#the fact that none of the character songs seem to have anything to do with this either does not fill me with confidence

[accirax]

Charles Tawaki: a DRDT Crack Theory

(Spoilers through DRDT Chapter 2 Part 1. Also for Star Wars Episodes 4 and 5, somehow???)

So… I know this sounds crazy (it is), but hear me out, okay?

After rewatching all of DRDT for a second time (as you do), I was left puzzled by Teruko’s final conversation with Veronika before the Chapter 2 motive reveal/body discovery. Y’know, the one about prosopagnosia.

Because, under my current understanding of the case, Teruko’s possible face blindness is completely irrelevant.

Now, I know my comprehension of the crime is nowhere near perfect, and that many popular theories include a culprit either dressing up as or swapping places with Arei. The person who makes the most sense for this is obviously J. She’s the same height as Arei, they’re both girls, and they have similar eye and skin colors. Additionally, J has one extra advantage that no one else does: her talent. J is the Ultimate Effects Artist, specializing in practical theater effects as opposed to digital post production.

Out of everyone in this cast, if someone was going to disguise themselves as Arei, J would have the best chance at being able to use makeup to disguise her face. Maybe her history with actors would even give her a better shot at acting like Arei, if worse comes to worse.

However, there’s a major problem with this premise at its base: even if Teruko is face blind, not everyone in the cast is. If Veronika can see the similarities between Teruko and the actress, wouldn’t she also be able to tell the differences between J and Arei? Moot point, Veronika could notice and still choose to conceal that because it would make the trial more interesting. But, Whit is still a pretty observant guy when he wants to be. Arturo has a particular eye for people’s faces, and has spent a lot of time with J specifically. Rose has a photographic memory. While it’s possible that Teruko wouldn’t be able to see through a disguised killer, between the twelve-or-so other innocent students in the rest of the case, it feels like it would be impossible for the killer to actually get away with dressing up as Arei for any meaningful amount of time, or in front of a meaningful group of people.

But this conversation with Veronika is so suspicious!!! The fact that DRDT’s creator chose to give Teruko prosopagnosia, or at the very least to suggest it, means that it has to be relevant to the story in some way, right? That’s, like, mystery writing 101.

So, I have an alternate theory as to how it could come up: if Teruko has failed to notice that her long-lost missing brother is amongst this cast.

And, that that brother was someone who was present for this very conversation: Charles.

Sound unbelievable? Well then, let me start off with some of my best evidence to get you more on board. That being, their character designs.

Charles and Teruko have pretty similar faces, all things considered. Their eyes are both pretty narrow, and upturned at the end. They also have really similar hairstyles: two bang spikes in the middle, with two longer pieces framing the face. The side opposite their long ponytail has a tuft of hair overlapping the side of the hanging piece, while the other side is more plain. Charles and Teruko also have really similar skin tones, with Teruko’s skin only being slightly redder and darker than Charles’.

Obviously, the two of them have different eye and hair colors. However, as Veronika already pointed out, that doesn’t matter:

(Teruko brings up skin color too, but it’s treated as secondary to eye and hair color.)

Inadvertently, Veronika is telling us that if two people have different eye and hair colors, they can still look similar as long as they have other similarities. Thus, while having different coloration can throw us off the scent, Charles and Teruko can still look similar, and remind us of the other.

Speaking of which, the personality similarities between Charles and Teruko have been highlighted in the story multiple times before. The most obvious one in my memory occurs at the end of the scene where Charles entrusts Teruko with the secret he received, right before Teruko decides to use a Monocredit to get rid of him.

Here, he calls Teruko out for her hypocrisy, directly pointing out that Teruko holds the same apathetic attitude that he displayed in Chapter 1. Beyond that, I think it goes without saying that both Charles and Teruko have displayed some majorly antagonistic qualities throughout the story. Both are intelligent, guarded, and a little sassy. When they banter, they’re able to trade similar insults.

Also, they both have a particular fondness for cacti.

Obviously, siblings do not need to have the same personality, especially if they didn’t even grow up together. I bring this up more to say that these are ways in which the author is intentionally drawing parallels between Teruko and Charles, showing us that they are similar and connecting them in our minds.

Now, let’s take a look at what we know of their backstories. As previously shown, Teruko was an orphan who lived at an orphanage with her brother. When she was five, her brother was adopted, and she was not. She had a pretty rough life after that, with “no family to speak of” while sneaking into schools to get an education, forced to choose between food and rent. Very unlucky, but not particularly relevant to this theory.

Charles’ life, on the other hand, seemed a lot easier.

Charles claims that both of his parents are alive. Additionally, while I don’t think it’s been confirmed, the fact that Charles doesn’t know how to cook or do his own laundry implies that either his parents are very caring and attentive to his needs, or he comes from a rich enough family that they have some sort of housekeeper to take care of their chores. My money is on the latter based on Charles’ overall demeanor, but that’s just speculation.

However, anyone who’s read Charles’ secret knows that his past wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.

While Charles believed he had no siblings, in truth, he actually had a brother who died when he was young. Many characters, including Charles himself, also connect his forgotten past to his fear of blood and dead bodies. That means that whatever happened to his brother, it wasn’t pretty.

So, that’s great, right? Another similarity between Charles and Teruko: both of them have a brother! Except, really that’s more of a problem than anything. If Charles and Teruko are siblings, then Teruko should remember having two brothers, and Charles should believe he has a sister. However, there is a way to get out of this.

Here’s my proposed theory for Charles and Teruko’s intertwined backstories. Charles and Teruko Tawaki are born to the same parents, likely as twins, given that they appear to be in the same year in school. While it’s a little odd that Teruko only said she had a brother as opposed to a twin brother, it’s possible she doesn’t remember the details herself, as she doesn’t cite the brother as older or younger, either. Anyways, at some point, their parents die, and the two of them are sent to the orphanage.

Then, when Charles and Teruko are five, Charles is adopted by the Cuevas family– a mom, a dad, and an older brother. I can’t speculate as to exactly why the family would adopt only Charles and not Teruko, but considering that Teruko getting left behind is a canonical plot point no matter who her brother is, clearly the author believes it’s possible. Once Charles is adopted into the family, tragedy strikes, and his new older brother dies in a terribly bloody accident. This event forges Charles’ phobia of blood and bodies. And, in a desperate attempt to save itself, his brain wipes his memory of his older brother… as well as his adoption and his twin sister, too.

Even if Teruko seeing a dead body happened after she left the orphanage, it’s clear that her past was pretty bleak. Having your parents die and being sent to an orphanage at such a young age must have been a traumatic event. So, if Charles was already in the process of developing childhood amnesia about the trauma of his brother’s death, I think it’s possible that his brain could have decided to shut out the trauma of being adopted, too. It’s childhood amnesia. Obviously he didn’t forget enough of his childhood to concern him or tip himself off that something was wrong, but who has super crisp memories from age 5 or prior anyways? And, if Mr. and Mrs. Cuevas simply hadn’t chosen to tell their son that he was actually adopted (possibly for fear of triggering him by reminding him of his adopted older brother), Charles could grow up thinking he had an exceptionally normal childhood.

Thus, while it requires a bit of creative interpretation, I think it’s possible for Charles and Teruko’s backstories to fit together. And, once you clear Charles’ brother dying, the two of them never saw each other again until the killing game began, so anything that happens afterward can still fit under the siblings theory.

This includes their secrets, as well. While we don’t know Teruko’s secret, I’ve gone on the record saying that I believe that hers is “How could I even select what secret to make your motive? Just about everything you’ve done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault”. This secret isn’t specific to one event, so Charles being her secret brother would still totally fit. It’s a little weird for Charles that they wouldn’t roll the other half of his forgotten siblings into the secret. But if they wanted to limit it to one secret per person for the sake of fairness (for instance, not having Whit’s secret be that he omits the death of his mother AND that he’s bisexual), I could see them cutting it out.

And that’s not even operating under the theory that Teruko could be the mastermind. In that case, she could have A) chosen to not talk about that secret because it mentions herself and her past, or B) not known it herself, and therefore not have been able to make it Charles’ secret.

From a meta writing perspective, I don’t know how the creator would tell us that Teruko and Charles are twins now that the secrets motive has passed, but I believe they could come up with something.

So, have I convinced you at all that it’s possible yet? I would hope at least slightly, if you’ve gotten to this point in the theory. Sadly, however, that means it’s time to discuss some of the… large potential holes in this theory that almost prevented me from writing it in the first place. Here we go.

Let’s go back to Charles and Teruko’s similar appearances, my “strongest point.” Well, Google tells me that the last name “Tawaki” is most commonly found in Japan, while “Cuevas” is Spanish in origin. Thus I, as well as likely many others, have assumed that Teruko is Japanese, and Charles is Hispanic. If Teruko and Charles are twins, that would mean that Charles’ ethnicity is actually Japanese, and he only gained the Hispanic last name “Cuevas” after being adopted by the Cuevas family. Through the magic of anime stylization, Charles and Teruko might look the same to us. But, in reality, if Charles was the only Asian looking member of a Hispanic family, wouldn’t it be pretty easy for him to realize/remember he was adopted?

While it’s a bit of an uninformed cop out, I did come up with a solution. If Charles and Teruko are both mixed race, specifically Asian/Hispanic, it’s possible nobody could have remembered. Charles could have been born a Tawaki, taking his Japanese parent’s last name, but when he was adopted, his Hispanic heritage amongst his new fully Hispanic family caused him to forget his Japanese roots. Like any child, some mixed race people look more like one parent (or therefore, one parent’s race) than the other. For example, as a mixed race person, I believe this is true of myself. I also think this is true of Whit, who appears to be Asian and white, but passes more as a white person.

(Obviously, it’s a little hard to tell exactly how white passing Whit is when he dyes his hair and we live in multicolored anime land, but the point stands.) So, this theory could be especially viable if Charles happened to look more like his Hispanic parent, while Teruko looked more like her Japanese parent.

Additionally, this could be a bold (mis?)characterization of the Cuevas family, but it is an explanation of why Charles could have been adopted while Teruko was not. If the Cuevas family was Hispanic, they may have wanted a child that “looked more like them,” so they only took the more Hispanic looking kid of the pair. If true, that would also potentially be another reason why Charles’ parents wouldn’t tell him he’s adopted.

For what it’s worth, I also do think Teruko is an American. While she was initially wearing a Japanese school uniform, and MonoTV confirmed she’s been to Japan, the fact that she “hasn’t been in years” makes me think that she currently lives in the US, where it really seems like the series is based. It would make sense if she now resides in the country in which she was born, and she’s never mentioned being a foreigner. She also speaks perfect English with no accent, which implies that she grew up in an English speaking country. If Charles is Teruko’s twin, and Teruko was born as an American, it would make it much easier for Charles to wind up in the United States.

Again, I don’t love this point, as it is extremely speculatory (what about this theory isn’t), but it is an answer. If Mr. Ultimate Chemist could take a DNA test for me real quick, that would be extremely helpful.

Point of contention #2: the existence of Charuko.

Speaking of which, please please please do not let this stupid theory stop you from shipping Charuko. There’s a 99.9% chance it is not true.

Anyways, Charuko is a big problem for this theory, given that I doubt the creator wants to incorporate incest into their story. While it obviously isn’t canon, Charuko is a decently popular ship, and that’s likely because of how their relationship is presented in the story. What was previously cited as sibling-like banter could easily be read as flirtatious teasing, and their similarities could be showing how compatible they are. But obviously, it could be totally platonic as well!

…Okay this is kind of a problem.

Even as more of a CharWhit enjoyer myself, I can’t deny that this is a particularly shippy moment. If you don’t recall, in this part of this scene Charles details how he likes talking to Teruko because she’s never pitied him, blushing all the while. The biggest blow to the theory is the sprite choice in this particular scene.

He has a version of this sprite with no blush. And yet, the creator chose to use the blushing version.

Now it is true that blushing can just be a sign of being flustered, which Charles often is. He could be embarrassed by merely complimenting Teruko at all, especially to her face. However, as any Owl House fan could tell you, blushing is often used as a shorthand for one character experiencing attraction to another. And, if Charles and Teruko are secretly siblings, I can’t understand why the creator would decide to imply the possibility that Charles could be crushing on Teruko. If the creator is a fan of… well, anything, they could probably expect that two of their most relevant characters have a possibility of being shipped together. They wouldn’t need to add any fuel to that fire– if anything, they would need to be throwing the firewood into the trash.

To be honest, I don’t really have much of a defense for this one. More than anything, this is what convinces me that this theory couldn’t be true. Really, all I can come up with is another example of something like this happening before, point at it, and say “if it happened there, it could happen here too.”

Said example is found in Star Wars, with Luke and Leia. At the end of the first movie, they kiss, but in the second movie, they learn that they’re actually twins, and cease romantic relations. Especially if this theory is true, I doubt Teruko and Charles would get to the point of sharing a kiss, but it would be a similar plotline to Star Wars.

Of course, I’m not the biggest Star Wars fan, but I’m pretty sure that when George Lucas wrote the first movie (in which Luke and Leia kiss), he didn’t know at the time that the characters were siblings. Meanwhile, if Charles and Teruko are twins, I would have to assume that it was in the creator’s plans the whole time, similar to Charles’ phobia of blood.

On that note of confidence, the final issue I could come up with: so what?

You’ve just spent 2.8k words+ trying to convince me that Charles and Teruko are siblings. Who cares? What does that actually have to do for the story? How would it ever become relevant?

Good points. Truly, I struggled with this myself. Like many others, I fear that Charles will die in Chapter 3 (after all, he was already pronounced dead at that time). And, given all the other drama that’s already going on with the other characters, and all the additional drama that the end of the second trial may cause, I wasn’t sure that a Charles/Teruko sibling reveal could really fit in that time. Even if Charles makes it past Chapter 3, I wasn’t sure how or why it would make sense for the story. But I did come up with a couple of ideas.

First of all, it could give Teruko another character to trust.

Charles is probably already the character that Teruko trusts the most (yes, even despite the above knife), but if she learned that he was her brother, she might feel even more connected to him. Or, she could pull a classic Teruko, and back even farther away from him in fear that she would come to trust him. At the very least, it would give Teruko an interesting dilemma. It would be interesting for Charles, too– he just learned he had a sibling that he lost, so how would he feel if he had a second sibling who was trapped in this killing game with him?

If Charles dies as an innocent victim, too, Teruko would have to face the loss of another person who’s important to her, but in a situation where he did absolutely nothing to betray her. This could happen even if Charles isn’t her brother, too, but I digress.

Secondly, it could force Teruko to talk about her past.

Given this scene, we know that there are aspects of Teruko’s past that she’s hiding from us, the audience inside her head. And, if she’s not telling us, then she definitely doesn’t want to tell other people.

But if Charles somehow learns that Teruko is his twin sister from a past he has no recollection of, after just receiving his dead brother secret, he would almost certainly want to start pressing her for answers. Although Teruko puts up a tough front, she has had moments of breaking down and showing “weakness” in the face of things that catch her off guard. It’s possible that if Charles genuinely came to her seeking answers about his own life, she would feel obligated to at least tell him something. And in that something, we could find some info relevant to the plot at large.

That is, if she actually knows anything about the situation. If she doesn’t and, say, MonoTV is the one who had to tell them about their siblinghood, part of Teruko’s backstory could also be rolled into the way that MonoTV would tell them that fact. That could be interesting, too, if Charles alone is privy to extra information about Teruko’s life beyond what happened when she was 5.

And, that’s about all that I have to say. As I’ve hinted at throughout this theory, despite being the one who came up with it, I really have my doubts that this theory is true. However, with the apparent lack of face blindness in this case, I can’t help but speculate as to how it could apply to something in the story in later chapters. I feel like I might be onto something, even if “Charles and Teruko secret siblings” isn’t it.

I would love to hear what anyone has to say to bust or support this theory, or if it inspires any other similar crack theories in its stead. Despair Time is a crazy enough series as is, so I wouldn’t be surprised if one of our shots in the dark makes it close to a target.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hazbin Hotel x Sick!Reader

A/N: Hey guys! I wanted to do some more x reader headcanons just because they’re so fun! I love the idea of the characters caring for you when you’re sick, it’s just so cute. I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Hazbin Hotel x Reader

Warnings: None (if you don't count tooth-rotting fluff) 

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

Essentially hides you away in his room: wants more than anything to take care of you, but refuses to expose this “softer” side of him to anyone else. If anybody knew that you were the Radio Demon’s only weakness, not only would that put him in danger, but you as well.

Will prepare any food that your heart desires - his mother brought him up to be an excellent cook! His recommended feel-good food is his mother’s jambalaya, but you absolutely love when he makes etouffee!

If anybody dares to try and disturb your well-needed sleep, he broadcasts their screams to remind them just why the hotel has a radio tower… 

Will suggest that you take advantage of the bayou-side of his room for the fresh air, but of course will not force you to do anything against your complete comfort.

The best thing that he knows to do is what his mother did to him whenever he was sick: Sit in bed with him and tell him Creole folk tales. They always enamored him, and just the fact that he was allowing you to see this personal side of him made you feel better. 

At the end of the day, Alastor would take advantage of the beautiful setting that the dark bayou side of his room provided and conjure up a lovely scene of fireflies, all while softly playing his piano and singing his favorite songs to guide you to sleep (You are the only person he will let hear his singing). While Alastor may seem heartless from afar, you wouldn’t trade this demon for all of the money in the world.

🗝️😈Charlie😈🗝️:

Would definitely notice that you were sick before you did and insisted that you get plenty of bedrest. When you refused, insisting that you were ok, she would monitor you until you finally accepted that you were sick and let her take care of you. She would say, “I’m not saying I told you so, buuuuuut…”

Takes care of you to the point where some tasks of the hotel were neglected, but to be honest, it was a win-win for everyone in the hotel. She was happy that you were being taken care of, and everyone else was happy that they didn’t have to participate in trust exercises. 

She would crack open her book of the story of Hell - it always calms her down during an extermination, so hopefully it could calm you down as you try to sleep. 

If she absolutely had to leave the hotel to do/get something, she would most definitely buy a little keepsake and bring it back for you.

She would use her love for singing to lull you to sleep, singing sweet lullabies that her mother used to sing to her as a child.

You have to constantly remind her to take care of herself as well, as she will literally remain at your bedside, not caring to eat or sleep, until you get better. She often gets so caught up in caring for others that she forgets to care for herself! You tell her that it would genuinely make you feel better to see her taking care of herself as well.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Gets more defensive over you than usual, which honestly scares everyone. Nobody wants to so much as speak to you wrong in fear of Vaggie literally attacking them. Having Vaggie around is the definition of scary dog privileges. 

She’s honestly extremely dramatic when it comes to you getting sick, which may seem ridiculous, but think about it: she was thrown away by her “family” in heaven, and now you’re the only person that she truly has. You confide in her, you allow her to let her guard down. If she lost you, she doesn’t know how she could even exist. So whether you have a cold or something more serious, she will automatically jump to the worst conclusions and get worried as Hell.

As tough as she seems, Vaggie loves to cuddle. She will literally lay in bed with you all day, not caring if she gets sick as well. You’re the only person that she can be vulnerable with, and if you have to be in bed all day, you better bet she’ll be right there next to you. 

Her love language is absolutely telling you about all the things that she would do to defend you. She will go into immense detail about the things that she would do for you, and you will always listen in awe. She has been through so much, and this is the only way that she knows how to express her true love for you. 

The last thing she wants is for somebody to feel abandoned in their struggle like she did when she fell from Heaven, especially you. She will make sure that you know how much you are valued and loved, not just by her, but by everyone at the hotel.

When you’re finally ready to get out of bed and start participating in hotel duties again, she monitors you the whole time to make sure that you’re not over-exerting yourself.

🕷️💖Angel Dust💖🕷️:

Is very upset and on edge - Valentino forces him to work everyday, no matter the circumstances, and not being at the hotel to care for you or at least watch over you makes him feel horrible. 

Basically forces you to sleep as much as you can, even better if it’s in his room so he can see that you’re okay immediately when he gets home.

Encourages you to cuddle with Fat Nuggets - he’s essentially a cute and cuddly heating pad. (He actually gives Fat Nuggets this adorable pep talk about how he needs to take good care of you while “dad” is at work)

He wholeheartedly believes in the power of comedy, so he essentially treats your bedrest as a stand-up comedy show for him to perform in order to make you laugh. He’ll tell stupid jokes, put together horrible dances, or even just hide in places and scare you in hopes that making you laugh will help you forget how bad you feel. 

Loves talking to you after work. You’re essentially the only person that he takes off his hypersexual mask around, and he knows that he can be himself around you, that you would never judge him. So, sometimes he will get home to find you already asleep and get in bed with you, holding you tight, whispering all of the things that he wanted to tell you about today, hoping that at least some of his words wiggle their way into your dreams. 

Loves sappy rom com movies and will 100% force you to watch them with him. He claims it’s because the “good vibes” of the romance will make you feel better, but to be honest, he just wants someone to watch his dumb movies with.

♦️🥃Husk🥃♥️:

Will blame himself for your sickness, claiming that he shouldn’t have let you drink so much over the past couple of days (He literally cannot comprehend the idea that people can be sick NOT from being hungover lol).

When you insist that it’s not his fault, he’ll ease up. He’ll use some of his bartending skills to make some sort of juice mocktail for you and will definitely sneak in some vitamin C to heal you faster.

Everyone - specifically Angel - will wonder why the fuck the bar hasn’t been stocked in days (It’s because Husk has been chilling in bed/taking care of you nonstop).

This is the only time that he will completely surrender to the idea of being one big stuffed animal to cuddle with. I mean, he’s warm, soft, and he purrs! What’s more therapeutic than that?

This is also a great time to get uninterrupted talking time with Husk. He’s a great listener, so you’ve always opened up to him, but it took him a while to open up to you too. He had told you that you were one of the only people that he trusted enough to confide in, but always seemed to air on the side of caution when sharing his personal struggles because it always seemed that someone would just pop up at the bar asking for a drink whenever it happened. This was one of the few times that the two of you could be completely open and vulnerable with each other without the risk of outside judgment. 

Given the fact that he was such a gambler, Husk has a knack for all sorts of card games. If you get too bored, just give him a deck of cards and the possibilities for entertainment are endless. Want him to teach you how to play poker or rummy? Done. Want him to embarrass himself while he tries to relearn some card tricks that he used to flaunt? Done and done.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

The second you told him you were sick, he would waste no time in finding one of his many inventions that could help you in some way. He definitely has some complex medical screening device hidden somewhere that he could use… he just has to remember where he put it. 

If you complain about being sore, he will insist that you snuggle up next to him. Because he’s a cold-blooded reptile, his body is one big ice pack! On the other end, if you feel yourself coming down with some feverish chills, he has you covered! His bedroom ceiling is essentially one huge heat lamp, so feel free to chill under there, too!

Has assigned himself as your personal nurse and will provide anything that your heart desires. If it for some reason cannot be found within the hotel, he will travel to any ring of Hell necessary to make sure that you are well taken care of. This man is DETERMINED.

You can tell that he’s taking this seriously because he actually neglects his “evil duties” for a couple of days. The airship isn’t even mentioned until you heal (unless, of course, you feel that taking a ride on the airship would make you feel better. Then, of course he will set it up for you!).

Despite literally voicing his complete and utter devotion to your every flight of fancy, this man is still as awkward as ever. He will still struggle to ask you if you want to cuddle, quite literally fluttering around the subject until you bring it up for him. 

At the end of the day, though, Sir Pentious is probably the sweetest sinner you could’ve ended up with as your caretaker. He may be awkward, but boy, does he love you!

👹👼Lucifer👼👹:

While you are resting in bed, he will conjure up the most delightful images of anything you request (his favorite, though, is a group of ducklings waddling through a golden lake together 🫶)

Being the King of Hell, he has so many interesting stories to tell you if you’re willing to listen. He will gladly tell you stories as you lay in bed with him, slowly lulling you to sleep. (His daughter clearly got her love of storytelling from him).

He loves that you trust him enough to let him take care of you - he doesn’t often have people around, let alone people that he truly loves. Just your presence in his room truly fills him with so much joy.

He didn’t want to annoy you with his ramblings about his many rubber ducks so he was ecstatic when you asked him to give you a tour of all of them. This man was telling you each and every duck’s name, backstory, etc. and honestly, it was adorable. When he quickly glazed over one of the ducks anxiously, you asked why. He then shyly revealed that it was, in fact, a rubber duck that looked just like you. 

His love language is definitely gift-giving. This rubber duck would lead to him showing the many, MANY gifts he has created for you in his free time. He always has a ton of downtime, so making gifts for people is his favorite hobby. These gifts include, but aren’t limited to: various duck items, binded storybooks, music boxes, paintings, etc. This man is TALENTED, to say the least. He just hopes that looking at these will distract you enough from being sick. 

Also, his room is by far the comfiest to sleep in while you’re sick… the mood lighting that is naturally provided from his glowing light shows is simply unmatched.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + eleven

authors note: i'm telling ya'll right now. this one will probably leave you with a certain number of questions. that's expected. all will, eventually, be revealed and make sense. don't be freaking out on me, por favor. 😭

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

cw/tw:  fluff, angst, language, suggestive themes, and scene of victim blaming/justifying dv (from character's pov, not the authors)

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

masterlist

words: 13k (i need help)

The moment the cotton round soaked in hydrogen peroxide makes contact with the largest cut on Roman’s face, a slash across his eyebrow bone, is the first time he visibly displays any sort of reaction. The first indication that he is in fact in pain.

And he’s immediately regretful.

Nakoa, his father, a tall man of muscular build, a thick salt and pepper beard, and dark eyes that seem almost black in dim lighting, is before him with a previously unreadable expression that has now morphed into something different.

Something Roman hates to see on his father’s face.

Disappointment. 

“Tell me what happened.”

Nakoa Reigns is a man who only needs to speak once, his deep, baritone voice emanating a level of power and authority that requires no repeating of anything. The first is the only.

Despite the sting of his cut and the bruising of his body, Roman sits up straight, all 78lbs of him and lifts his chin. “I—”

“He was trying to help us, fath—”

Nakoa lifts his hand, effectively silencing the voice of one of his older boys, Pika, Roman’s half brother. 

“I asked your brother.”

Pika recognizes his fault and shares a brief look with his other brother, Tane, before both drop their heads, rendered to silent shame.

Nakoa brings his gaze back to Roman as Viviana continues to work on heeding to her son’s wounds.

Roman swallows and answers as evenly as possible. “They were talking about you.”

“So you attacked them?”

Roman quickly debates leaving out unnecessary details then easily remembers nothing gets past his father, and honesty, while uncomfortable, is the best route. “Pika and Tane did first, and then I joined them—”

“You were defending my honor.”

Nakoa’s tone, something of almost pride, takes a young Roman by surprise. Yet, he shows nothing, recognizing that can and typically does change with his father. “Yes.”

It’s a wise decision, because Nakoa’s tone instantly shifts to something chilly. “And yet you lost.” Roman winces again, and it has nothing to do with the dabbing of the hydrogen peroxide against another cut. “Tell me, son, where is the honor in that?”

Knowing that there is no excuse, Roman’s shoulders slump a bit. “There is none, father.”

“If you are to defend this family, you will do it to completion. There is no room for failure. Ever.” It’s a tale as old as time, a lesson Nakoa has drilled into all eight of his children, but especially Roman, the youngest and smallest of the bunch compared to his other sons. “Pika. Tane.”

The older boys stand at attention as their father, The Tribal Chief, turns his disappointed gaze towards them. “You have also failed me. Your brother is small, but you are not. There is no excuse.” His gaze sharpens. “If they disrespect you, then they disrespect me, and if they disrespect me, then they disrespect our entire family. Does this sound acceptable to you?”

Pika, the older of Tane and Roman, is the one to answer. “No, father.”

“Exactly.” Nakoa’s large, intimidating frame is stepping away from them as he instructs. “Come. We will fix this. Today.”

As usual, Tane and Pika fall in line, walking in silence behind their father until only Roman and his mother, Viviana, remain in their large kitchen. 

That is when she finally speaks. Her fingers move under his chin, forcing him to look up, her icy blue eyes meeting with his light brown ones, a trait inherited from his father.

“Did you hit your head?” He shakes his head no, and she drops her fingers. “Good.” She studies him, lifting his shirt to see the purple bruises forming. A heavy sigh escapes her mouth as she moves across the kitchen, opening up the cabinet and grabbing the Children’s Tylenol. She pours the appropriate dosage into the medicinal cup and offers it to him. “Here. Take this. It will help with the pain.”

He’s immediately shaking his head, shoulder length hair brushing against his face. “I must pay for my failure.”

“You will learn nothing by suffering unnecessarily.” She again motions for him to take the medicine. Roman hesitates but obeys, downing the red liquid in a matter of seconds. She takes back the cup, rinses it, and puts it away before returning to finish tending to his wounds.

“Never pick or involve yourself in a fight you can’t win, Roman.” Viviana switches to Italian, an intentional tactic to ensure privacy as well as continue to push her eight-year-old son to better his fluency. He's advanced for his age but still not where she would like him to be. Where she needs him to be. 

“Should I have done nothing, mother?” Viviana hears it. The edge in his voice, the hint of challenge to her authority. 

Again, she grabs his chin, forcing him to look at her. “You should have been smart.”

“Pika and Tane—”

“I do not care about them.” Her dismissal is immediate and bitter. “They are not my sons. You are.” Roman is smart for his age. He’s always picked up on his mother’s dislike of his half–siblings, the five sons born to his father by his late ex-wife. No. His mother has only ever cared and focused on him and his two older sisters, Nesi and Sili. “And you are smarter than them.”

Viviana suddenly gives another sigh and places the cotton round on the counter. She crouches down in front of Roman, taking his hands in hers. “Do you know why your father and I are so hard on you?” She didn’t expect him to reply, verbally or nonverbally, and is therefore unsurprised when he does nothing. “It’s because you are not like your brothers and sisters. You are different. You come from two worlds. You are Bloodline, yes, but you are Cosa Nostra as well. That means you belong to the two biggest crime families in the world. It is your birthright to lead both of them.” Had he been looking up, he might have seen the almost sympathetic shift in her expression. “But the road ahead of you is not easy. They will challenge you. They will hate you. They will reject you, because you hail from two worlds instead of one over the other.” Any sign of sympathy quickly morphs into something determined and hardened. “That is why you must be better. You must be better than all of them. Faster. Smarter. Stronger. There is no room for you to be weak, Roman.” He lifts his head, mindful of maintaining and showing no sign of emotion, no indication of feeling. “You will show them, brutally, ruthlessly, and with no mercy who you are, and then, only then, you will rule them all.”

Roman straightens again, his posture representative of the alignment provided by his mother. By the reminder of his mother why he must always be the best and failure is never an option. He can succeed or he can succeed. There is no second option.

“Never forget, Roman.” She points to his chest, to his heart. “This is what makes you weak. It will distract you, it will deter you, and it will cost you everything.” Viviana speaks with almost sorrow to her, an almost unhealed scar from a time long ago. “But this….” She lifts her hand to his head, pointing to his brain. “This is power. This will bring and keep you on top. It is your greatest strength.”

Viviana presses a kiss to her son’s forehead and stands back up, motioning to the first aid kit. “Finish tending to your wounds, and go do your training.”

Roman is quick to hide his surprise, to hide the disappointment at still having to complete his daily combat training. He tries to be grateful though, thankful that his father, or mother, did not tack on additional training for his failure. 

But it’s when Viviana leaves and he moves to grab the gauze, a new voice interrupts.

“Boy, I thought she’d never leave.”

Instantly, Roman’s spirits are lifted in a way only his tina matua can provide.

Her warm eyes are on him, a frown falling on her face as she sees the cuts. It’s unsurprising and one of many fights he’s already been in at such a young age. But, it’s because he’s a protector. She can already see that is one of his defining traits: his strong urge and sense of duty to protect the ones he loves. 

To protect his family. 

She grabs the supplies and starts finishing the cleaning and bandaging of his wounds. “Those boys got you some good, huh?” She shakes her head, cursing in Samoan. “Don’t you worry. In a couple of years, you’ll be bigger and stronger than them, and then you can get your receipt.”

Fetu Reigns is unsurprised when her nephew says nothing. She knows his small size is a deep insecurity he struggles with, especially when all of his brothers have exceeded expected height and weight. She knows he sees it as a hindrance. 

“Did you know that your father was the smallest of our other siblings?” That is when Roman looks up and actually allows himself to show an emotion: surprise. His tina matua has always been the only person he can do as such with.

His parents would never approve, and his brothers would never let him live it down.

“It’s true,” Fetu discloses, adding. “And it bothered him too. Then one summer, he went through a growth spurt and suddenly the scrawny little boy we all teased towered over everyone.”

Fetu can see the continued struggle he has between the words she’s saying and the reality he’s living. She puts down the supplies and gently cups his face.

“Roman, I know there is pressure on you, my sweet boy. In this house and out. And you do carry a burden your brothers and sisters do not, but you also have something else, something they don’t have because your parents haven’t extinguished it out of you yet.” She lays her hand over his chest. “You have heart, Roman, and it does not make you weak. That is what makes you strong. A good leader, a great leader, leads with both his head and his heart.”

She hopes her words can penetrate the deep armor of stoicism that her brother and sister-in-law seem to want to bestow upon the child who already carries such a heavy weight at a young age.

Her heart aches for him a bit. 

She then informs him, hoping it will lift his spirits, even just a little, “Rikishi brought the twins over.”

And it pleases her to see the way his eyes light up. For a brief second, he’s just a little boy who wants to play with his cousins. But, it’s just as quickly gone, his shoulders straightening. “I have to do my training for today.”

She’s briefly disappointed but quickly reminds him of the ‘completion’ of that task. “but you did, remember? You got up early this morning to get it done. I was there watching you.” She gives him a wink, and Roman smiles. The first of the day.

“Thank you, tina matua.” He starts to run off when she calls his name, forcing him to look back at her.

“And where is my hug?”

Still smiling, he runs back over, hugging her tightly, soaking in all of the warmth she provides in his dark world.

She kisses the top of his head. “I love you, Roman.”

And his eyes shut, because at the end of the day, when all is said and done, he’s still just an eight-year-old little boy who needs the space and time to just be that innocent little boy for however long it can last.

“I love you too, tina matua.”

“Roman.”

Solana’s almost worried expression is the last and least wanted thing Roman expects to find as he’s ripped away from a memory so long ago that it almost feels unreal. There’s a moment of adjustment, a brief delay as he returns to reality. 

“Sorry.” It’s a bit gruff, a bit on the harsh side, an unintended side effect of resurfaced, previously buried memories he’d prefer to keep six feet under instead of at the forefront of his mind.

Solana steps forward, her hand on his forearm. “Are—are you okay?” Her frown deepens. “You’ve been kinda off the past few days.”

He can’t and won’t deny it, an inconvenient result of still trying to navigate just what the hell he’s supposed to do with information that feels almost too painful to sit on and do nothing about. He can’t march over and rip Xavier apart with his bare hands no matter how badly every fiber of his being wants him too. He can’t do that because he promised Solana he would let her make that call.

And now, more than ever, that’s the least he can give to her.

But the knowledge, the truth about the two events in her life he has no doubt sent her on that dark spiral, feels like something she should know.

It also, however, seems like something he feels could destroy her. And not even just the tremendous progress she’s made, but destroy her altogether.

“Just work shit.” There’s also that, but that’s nothing new nor noteworthy. It’s also insignificant compared to everything else. 

He doesn’t know if it’s her naivety or his adept skills of persuasiveness, but she seems to buy it. “Okay.” He hates this. The lying to her part. Shit fucking sucks, but he also still has no goddamn idea what he wants or even needs to do, so it’s all he has. “I know—I know there’s probably nothing I can do to help—”

“You can.” It’s an obvious surprising statement to her judging by the shocked expression on her face. Roman moves towards her, hand reaching for the small of her back as he pulls her into him. He watches as Solana bites on her bottom lip but still lays her hands against his chest. It’s a great sign of progress, as he’s always noticed the way she seems almost uncomfortable around him when he’s shirtless. “I want you to think about something for me.”

She answers almost immediately. “Okay.”

He locks his gaze with hers. “Moving into my room.”

Solana is clearly taken back by his offer, the way her eyes widen almost instantly only to settle into something that’s an almost mixture of a smile and a frown. “Really?”

He nods, fingers dancing across her back. “If you want us to eventually have a sex life, then sleeping in the same bed seems like a good place to start.”

Solana is quiet, listening to his words but also still in a bit of shock. She knows he’s indicated a desire to be with her, to want her in that way at least, but she never really imagined he’d be okay with her being in his space like that.

They’ve shared a bed on roughly two occasions now, but those were both by unplanned circumstance. Something that he was okay with because of how they came about. But now, it seems he’s okay and maybe even wants it to be a regular thing.

And when she thinks about, thinks about his offer, there’s no anxiety, no fear. There’s just…okayness.

A state of peace, almost.

“Dulce has to come with me.” She chews on her bottom lip, nervous about this being a possible dealbreaker. “She’s used to sleeping with me now.” 

He instead just shrugs. “She seems to keep finding her way in there anyway.” Dulce has also taken on the same squatter mentality of his twin cousins with her having walked her little ass into his room at various points in the middle of the night the past few days. It’s honestly a miracle he hasn’t stepped on her. “So, you’ll think about it?”

“No. I—” She gives a small shrug of her own, answering almost confidently. “I’ll do it. I’ll—I’ll move in.”

His eyes light with something that’s almost similar to excitement. “Good.” Her eyes shut when he dips his head, preparing for him to kiss her only for him to ghost his lips across hers, murmuring, “like you close to me.” He gestures down and adds with his gaze lingering on her chest a bit longer than what’s probably necessary. “I really like this outfit too.”

Roman’s noticed a shit ton of benefits from Solana being friends with Naomi and Bayley, which is a major reason why he didn’t rip them a new one for allowing her to get so shit faced drunk that night. Why he didn’t find a reason to justify keeping them apart. And one of the major benefits has become her change in wardrobe.

The baggy clothes have been swapped out for more form-fitting attire, outfits that accentuate her curves and showcase her beauty. He can also see the relationship between her wardrobe and self-esteem, specifically regarding her body. An increase.

And he likes it.

Happiness and confidence look good on her.

Roman kisses her, gentle at first, almost tentatively, just like most of their kisses. Like he’s always initially assessing her comfort level. And when she doesn’t push back, doesn’t tense, he deepens said kiss, tugging her close against him, their chests touching. Solana bites back a smile, giggling against his mouth, “Roman, you’re still sweaty from your workout.”

He’s unbothered, commenting suggestively with a wink, “you better get used to that, baby.”

Instead of discomfort, there’s only a strange, uncomfortable yet not feeling between her legs that’s unfamiliar but still….welcomed. It’s a hard thing to explain, and she’s thankful for the glance at the time on the microwave that provides her an out.

Still smiling, she informs him, “I’m gonna be late for work.” Solana is certain her cheeks are painted red judging by the heat that’s floating through her core. 

He’s unbothered. “And?”

Rolling her eyes, she pries herself away, asking, “are you still going to meet me when I get off?”

He taps her hip, hand close to the side of her ass. There’s a brief slice of anxiety that’s quickly pushed back by her daily reminder. Safe. “Of course.” 

Pleased, she leans up, kissing his cheek and backs away before he can pull her back for another kiss. She’ll definitely be late for work then. “Bye.”

He calls out bye after her, and by the time she’s outside, Solo is waiting expectedly by the SUV with that typical scowl. She expects the usual silence but is caught off guard when he observes as she climbs into the truck, “you’re late.”

Confused, she looks over at him, almost struggling with a reply as she reverts back to her overly apologetic state. “I’m sorry, I was—I was with Roman.”

He makes a sound and rolls his eyes. “Of course, you were.”

Her mouth dips into a frown. What’s that supposed to mean?

Before she can ask, or even consider asking a follow up question, he closes the door shut.

Literally and figuratively.

________

The work day seems to go by significantly faster when there’s something to look forward to. And for Solana, it’s being able to spend time with Roman. The more time they interact, the closer and more comfortable she feels.

There’s something so calming being around him. A strange dynamic, she recognizes, considering just who he is and the fact that his name alone strikes fear through most. 

But that’s not who he is to her. 

He’s….he’s a lot more than that, and though she still doesn’t quite know how to describe and label it accurately, she’s becoming less and less focused on the why and more focused on just allowing whatever this is between them to continue. To grow.

And that includes the intimacy portion, hence their current position, later that evening, laid out on his bed making out after being distracted in the midst of moving her items into his room.

Roman’s big hands are careful to remain in the safety zones of her body. The side of her stomach, the width of her shapely hips, the span of her back. It’s an intentional caution, she’s certain, one she’s appreciative of.

A boundary almost. 

But, it’s a boundary she’s currently in the space and range to play around with. 

Solana breaks their kiss, Roman instantly checking for her comfort level. “You okay?”

“Yes. I—” She’s not sure how exactly to word it but does the best she can, regardless. “You—you can touch me.” It sounds and even feels a bit weird leaving her mouth, maybe a tad bit uncomfortable too, but Solana knows that a lot about this whole thing will be uncomfortable at first. She just has to trust him. 

Trust herself. 

And when it dawns on her that a boundary within the exploration can be set, she stipulates, “just….just not there.” She doesn’t want to say it outright, a maybe silly sort of avoidance considering it’s what they’re eventually working up to, but for now, her comfort level is in the category of vague. “I can’t….not that. Not yet, at least.”

“Of course.” Roman looks at her with almost uncertainty. “You sure?”

She nods, fingers brushing through his hair that’s down instead of up like usual. She thinks she prefers it down. It makes him look…almost angelic. “Yes.”

His fingers dance across her back. “Can you lay down?”

Solana answers by allowing him to shift positions where he’s on top of her, hovering over her body. She closes her eyes when that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach forms. It takes a second to redirect herself, to recenter herself to where she is and who she’s with. 

And Roman helps with that, his lips brushing over her jawline as he reassures her, “it’s just me, baby….”

She nods, moving her hands to his face, resuming their kissing as Roman carefully navigates this newfound ability to explore her. His hand moves up her stomach in a way that makes her sigh and moan into his mouth. His touch is something that does something so different to her. It’s a combination of nerves but also something else she can’t describe nor label.

But it’s when he moves his hand to her breast, kneading them almost gently, her back arches on an accord of its own. And she exhales deeply, fingers clawing the soft sheets underneath him. “You’re so sensitive to my touch….” He’s peppers kisses against her neck, mouth opening as he sucks on her soft skin, murmuring, “I fuckin’ love that shit.” 

She’s never felt this before, and while there’s a constant battle in her head to push away those dark thoughts that would rip her from this moment, there’s a growing level of almost pleasure that’s so unfamiliar. 

But she likes it. 

Solana reaches to touch him, her fingers lightly gliding across his stomach.

He hisses against her and says something she can’t make out before smashing his lips back onto hers with an elevated sense of urgency that she finds herself matching. Her arms move around his neck as she tugs him closer to her, Roman’s big hands continuing to explore her body, respecting her request that he stay away from the sensitive space between her legs. 

And it’s okay. It’s a level she’s okay with outside of some anxiety.

But then it’s over. 

Roman pulls away from her, almost suddenly, like he’d been zapped with something. Frowning, Solana sits up, panting, lips swollen. “What—what’s wrong?”

She watches with continued confusion as he lays on his back, eyes closed, chest moving up and down. “We have to stop.”

She shakes her head, hand moving to his forearm. Solana notices his jaw clenches at that interaction, a strange response. “But—I’m okay.” And she is, though this is broaching new territory, having his big hands explore more of her body, she feels a layer of protection at the fact that she’s still fully clothed. Her outfit is more revealing than what she would typically wear, but it’s another step she’s hoping continues to move her in the right direction.

If the goal is eventual sexual intimacy, then that most likely includes being naked in front of Roman. Working her way up into wearing more revealing clothes around him feels like a way for her to ease her way into developing that level of comfort. 

When he still says nothing and Solana finds herself almost wanting to continue, she urges, “really, Roman, I’m—I’m okay. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

“It’s not you,” he finally says, eyes still closed, voice almost strained. 

Now Solana is just stumped because if it’s not her, what reason would he have for stopping? Was he…..was he not enjoying it? It certainly didn’t feel like it.

She shakes her head, growing a bit self-conscious. “I don’t—I don’t under….” The trailing off of her words coincide with the way she trails his body, ceasing when she finally realizes why he stopped. “Oh.”

Solana’s cheeks are practically burning. She can only imagine how reddened she must look, and it has nothing to do with the intense makeout session from only minutes ago and everything to do with Roman’s very visible bulge.

He just makes a sound that’s equivalent to a “you get it now?”

“I’m—” She has no idea what to say, no idea how to respond. How did that happen? They weren’t even doing it. She voices her confusion. “But—but we were only kissing.”

Roman chuckles almost darkly. “You still don’t get how attracted I am to you, do you?”

She bites down on her lip, eyes briefly darting to his erection, quickly snapping back to anything but that. “I think—I think I’m starting to.” He smiles, and she asks, “do you….do you want me to leave?”

She may have no healthy sexual experience, but she knows enough to know that there are ways men tend to take care of….that kind of thing when actual sex isn’t an option. And Solana has no desire to be present for that. That’s just too much at this point.

Maybe at any point for her.

“No.” His answer surprises her. “Stay. Just….talk.”

“Talk?”

“Distract me,” he encourages. She has no idea how the hell she’s supposed to do that, how the hell her talking will help that to go away or go down. For her own mental wellbeing, she doesn’t even acknowledge the size of his bulge.

Being intimate with him is one thing, but realizing Roman is just a big human all over is something she’ll save for when that time comes. Another problem for another day. 

Suddenly feeling on the spot, she blurts out without much consideration. “I—I bought a bathing suit.” It feels so random, but she doesn't know what else to say, so she continues on this maybe not so great distraction. “I—I also want to try to get in the pool, but I didn’t have a suit, so I bought one. It’s a two piece, and I—I don’t usually like wearing those, but Bay and Naomi said it looked nice.” She thinks about the colorful two piece bikini that shows off more skin than she’s ever shown in public. She’s not sure she could ever wear something like that in public, but maybe around Roman. “The top is…it’s more revealing than I’d like, but I—”

“Solana.” 

“Yes?”

He sounds like he’s in some level of pain as he informs, almost kindly despite the suffering, “baby, that’s not helping.”

Her frown returns at hearing his tone, and another glance in his direction reveals why. “Oh. I’m—I’m sorry.” She can most definitely see why now. “I—I should just go.” 

He doesn’t protest this time around, just nods, and Solana doesn’t waste any time climbing off the bed and walking out the door, making sure to shut it all the way. She almost wishes that she could lock it too.

Solana finds herself trying to settle her own body as she makes her way down the steps and into the living room where Dulce is curled into a little ball sleeping away.

She closes her eyes and blows out a big breath, a small smile falling on her face. It’s the little things. Like being able to make out with her husband, his hands on her with only a small to medium level of anxiety being generated during the act that brings on the smile. Not even four months ago, they’d been in an eerily similar position with an entirely different outcome. She’d had a panic attack, and while he’d helped her through it, she was also left alone to navigate her big emotions on that even bigger day.

It feels almost like night and day how far they’d come. How far she’s come because this time around, Solana liked the feelings of his hands on her. There was still some uncertainty, but his gentleness with her, the way he kept reminding her that it was him and not them….it made a difference.

It makes a difference.

She finds herself reaching for her airpods, plugging them in her ears as well as the sketchbook on the coffee table.

Years. 

It’s been years since she picked up a sketchbook and pencil, years since she escaped in the form of art. Writing has been her main outlet for years, but once upon a time, she had writing and art.

Passions she shared with her mom. 

And in moving through her workbook, one of the exercises inquired about passions that died following the traumatic event, and in doing the hard work, Solana realized that the last time she drew was before she was raped.

It was a favorite hobby at one point, and she’d love to tap back into that. Even if just for the connection with her mom.

And it’s something she finds herself fully immersed in, so much so that she misses it when Roman rejoins her until she jumps a bit, pulling out one of her airpods. “Hey. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

He doesn’t say anything, just sits down on the sofa next to her, arm moving around her. Naturally, she moves into his side. “Are you umm—okay?” Thinking about her outfit, she offers, "I can change."

He chuckles. “I’m not a teenage boy, Solana. Seeing you is not going to make me hard.” He dances his fingers across her upper arm as he explains, “it’s just touching you like that….it’s hard to control myself.”

She swallows. His words don’t unnerve her, just make her realize yet again just how attracted he is to her. Still a bit of a hard pill to swallow given that she’s never seen a man as beautiful as Roman. And yet he wants her. It still blows her mind. “Can I—can I do something to help?”

His eyes take in her body. “Not a damn thing.” She smiles as he then focuses on the book on her lap. “Did you do that?”

She looks down, realizing just how far she got in her drawing. A lot farther than she realized, that’s for sure. She looks up, nodding. “Fuck, you’re good.”

It seems like Roman is full of compliments when it comes to her, and it feels good. The more they come, the more she’s starting to believe it. Believe that she’s beautiful and talented and the exact opposite of everything her father and brother ever tried to make her believe about herself.

“Thank you,” she then goes on to explain. “I—I haven’t done it in years, but—but I used to love it.”

He nods as well, facial expression indicating he’s storing this information for later use. “Do you do any other kind of artwork?”

She has to think about it for a second. “I used to paint too. My….mother taught me.” The ending portion quiet, her pencil dragging along the eyes of the unidentified woman.

Roman notices though, asking, “is that her?”

With one glance, without even needing to think about it, she answers, “yes.” 

Her mom.

“You know the part I hate the most?” Her voice is still quiet, low and weighed with emotion. “I can’t—I can’t remember what her speaking voice sounded like. I’ve tried—tried to remember, but I can’t.” Her tone shifts to something else, something more of a bitter and remorseful nature. “But I still remember the sound of her screams every time he beat her.” Solana remembers more than that, feels more than that. But revisiting those painful memories to that extent is something she doesn’t feel mentally equipped for. “I used to be so scared. Praying because…because I thought he was gonna kill her.” Had she been looking at Roman, she’d have seen the flash of guilt in his eyes at her soft admission. “And sometimes I wanted him to, so at least she didn’t have to suffer anymore.”

Wetness pooling in her eyes alerts her to pending tears. She sniffles, quickly wiping away any sign of the impact of revisiting those dark days. “I’m—I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that.”

“Because it’s the truth. Because it’s how you feel.” Roman’s voice is soothing, soft, a stark contrast to everything anyone else has ever seen with him. It’s a different, almost caring side. And it’s everything she needs at this moment to feel safe. 

She nods, struggling to keep the tears at bay. It’s a failed mission at this point. “I just—I miss her. So much.”

Roman tugs her closer to him, as she angles her body toward him, crying silently into his chest unintentionally creating yet another layer of complexity for the man struggling already as to whether or not the information he’s sitting on could help her finally close a chapter of suffering with the finality of truth. 

Or bring her right back to the apex of trauma and suffering. 

________

Solana shoots awake with a violent gasp and heavy panting. Immediately, she looks to her side, hoping to see Roman only to find an empty space and ruffled sheets. 

Sniffling, she wipes at the tears and tries to regulate herself. Memories are one thing, but the memories that haunt her when sleep should overcome her have always been the hardest. They weigh heavier, leaving behind an emotional stain that’s hard to scrub out.

She wipes away the slight sheen of sweat on her forehead and kicks the blankets off her body. One glance at the ground, and she sees Dulce sleeping peacefully in her bed. 

Solana hugs herself, ready to find Roman. For what reason, she’s not sure. It’s not like he can do anything to take the remnants of the nightmare away. She just knows that she wants to be around him. 

A swish of a cool breeze brings her attention to the ajar double doors that lead to the balcony attached to his room.

She dabs at her eyes, doing her best to hide the tears before walking out to find him. Solana doesn’t necessarily want him to know the specifics, just needs to be near him.

He’s sitting back against the chair, eyes on the full moon and stars that blanket the night sky. But his gaze quickly shifts to her the second he’s alerted of her presence. He frowns almost. “Shit, did I wake you?”

She shakes her head, doing her best to muster up a smile that doesn’t give away the truth. “No. I just….can’t sleep.”

But, she should know better than that. Better than to think that this man can’t see through any lie thrown at him.

He motions her over. “Come here.”

She makes her way to him, unsurprised as he pulls her onto his lap, keeping her face forward so she can recline back against his strong chest. Solana’s hands rest on his forearms that are almost protectively around her.

Her eyes shut briefly when he brings his lips to her temple, asking, “what’s wrong?”

“Bad dream” she murmurs only to feel a sense of regret at her answer. He’s also obviously up in the middle of the night for a reason too. It’s not just about her.

But in a surprising flip of the roles, Solana feels Roman almost tense underneath her at her answer. “Solana, if us trying is triggering you—“

Her eyes widen almost as she works to assure him. “No. No. It’s not—not that. I haven’t—I haven’t had one of those in a while.” It’s been at least a few months since she’s had a nightmare about that. A far cry from when she would have them at least a few times a week. “It was about my mom.”

He seems to settle a bit, asking, “do you wanna talk about it?”

The answer is easy but also gently supplied. “Not really.” She then angles her head to look at him, asking almost cautiously. “Do you wanna talk about what’s bothering you?”

He chuckles, fingers tapping against the side of her stomach. She tries to focus on his words and not the action, knowing she’ll get too into her head. Her stomach has always been one of her biggest sources of insecurity. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

The rejection, albeit cloaked in vagueness, is a good distraction. She gives him a small smile. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.” For all that Roman’s been for her in the past few months, she would feel remiss if she didn’t at least attempt to be a safe space for him. 

It’s the least she can do.

He looks at her, and she can tell he’s trying to navigate his words. “Solana, I’m not—I’m not used to talking about my problems. I keep that shit to myself, and I figure it out.” 

She doesn’t deny that one bit, knows that he’s a man who carries the weight of the world but makes it seem like a tennis ball. “I get that.” She doesn’t want to push him. Again, it's more to make him aware that should he ever want to, she’s here. “I just…..I know how lonely it can be not having anyone to talk to.” There’s a hesitation but eventual follow through as she offers quietly, “I don’t think I said it at the time, because everything happened so quickly, but I'm so sorry about your mom.”

He’s tense under her, replying almost stoically. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t matter,” she points out gently.  “You—you never get over that kind of loss. Not—not really.”

She would know.

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and for a second, she berates herself. Chides herself for being too pushy, for bringing up memories that must be painful. Just because she’s venturing down trauma lane, doesn’t mean she has to drag him with her. 

Solana swallows. “I’m so—”

“I have to go out of town tomorrow.”

It’s deflection but almost maybe a genuine notice that’s much shorter than she likes. Regardless, her head snaps in his direction, big eyes on him with a mixture of confusion and shock. “What?”

“I have….I have something I need to handle for work.” That feels like an oversimplification, and she has no doubt it is. Knows that there’s so much about his work and what he does that there’s not enough time and space in the world for him to catch her up on. Not that she would even want to know the full truth, to be honest.

Some things are better left unknown. 

“How—how long will you be gone?”

Solana hates the way her mood has just taken yet another turn in a downward direction. She doesn’t know why it saddens her to know that he’s leaving, to have this sense of anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach at the knowledge that he’s leaving. 

He answers it so calmly, so easily. Like it’s the most simplest thing. “A couple days. No more than a week.”

A week.

The anxiety is slowly trickling into something deeper and heavier. It shows in her face and body language. 

Roman notices this and asks, “what is it?”

She feels silly even saying it, but there’s also a small desire to just be honest with him. To not hide anything. Even if she does feel a bit embarrassed saying so. “It’s just…I haven’t been away from you since the wedding.”

Solana hates that she’s making this moment about her, that she’s redirecting attention onto herself, but at the same time, she can’t ignore her anxiety at just the thought of Roman being gone. Roman is her protector. The one who has made it so nothing bad has happened to her since they exchanged vows. Even with the Theory and Waller situation. That only happened because she hadn’t made him aware. There’s no doubt in her mind now that had she told him from the beginning, he would have nipped it in the bud. 

But for the first time in months, she has to think about something unfamiliar. She has to think about being without his protection.

Her right hand moves to her pajama shorts, pulling at the cotton. Roman sees this telling action and brings his hand under her chin, lifting and making her look at him. “Talk to me.”

It’s suddenly a difficult thing, because she’s not sure she knows how to describe it exactly. So she just asks him instead, voice small, “will Solo still be here?”

And it’s in how he looks at her, how something flashes in his eyes that she knows he knows. “You’re scared.” It’s more of an assessment than anything, and she can’t deny it, no matter how badly she wants to. 

Because no matter how far she’s come, the steps and strides that she’s made, there’s still this deep down fear.

Fear of her dad and brother.

Fear of their anger and punishment for how she’s been made completely out of reach and contact with them.

Fear of their threat from what feels like so long ago.

“Either you kill Reigns, or we kill you.”

And suddenly the fear shifts from what they could do to her and entirely to what they could do to the man before her who suddenly looks like he’s engaging in his own internal dialogue. 

“I figured you would be.” She’s listening, but she’s also worrying, mind starting to race with thoughts about Roman and his safety. “Yes, Solo will still be here. And I asked Bayley to stay at the house with you till I get back.”

“Are the twins going with you?”

He looks taken back by her question, and her stomach drops when he shakes his head. “No. I….I need to handle this on my own.”

Her stomach is a resting stop for daggers. Sharp and swift slices of pain circulating. Solana sits up, angling herself so she can see him better. “You’re gonna be alone?” The scenarios could be in the millions now, her chest starting to tighten, matching the knotting in her belly. “But—but what if something happens? Who’s gonna look out for you—”

“Hey.” And he’s sitting up, one hand on her face, the other on her waist. “Solana, where is this coming from?” That only makes her anxiety spike, her eyes watering at horrible, dark thoughts that involve her losing the first person since her mom who’s ever made her feel wanted. “I’ll be fine. I won’t be alone. But even if I was, I’ve been looking out for myself for a long time. It’s nothing new.”

But that looking out for himself probably almost always involved a sense of knowing what to look out for. He can’t look out for her dad and brother if he has no idea they even have their grisly sights set on him. He doesn't know because she still hasn’t told him. Hasn’t been woman enough to be honest with this man when his literal life is at stake. 

It turns her stomach for an entirely different reason. Her sudden sense of self hatred. 

 Her internal strife must show as he gently moves his thumb across her cheek. “You worry that much about me?” It’s another statement, borderline realization, and he’s not looking for an answer.

She does. She really, truly does. Solana admits with all the emotion and vulnerability, both from his leaving and the inner turmoil at sitting on such a secret, “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

And yet, she can’t bring herself to mouth those words, all of the various, horrible ways he could respond rushing to the forefront of her mind. He’ll be angry. Angry at her. He could….he could lose his temper.

He could lose it on her.

And she couldn’t even blame him, couldn't be upset at him because she would deserve it.

She’d deserve whatever punishment he saw fit. 

“It won’t,” he says, tone promising and convincing. It briefly brings her back to the main conversation at hand vs the debate going on in her head. “I been doing this a long time, Solana. I know how to keep myself safe.”

She believes it. Knows he’s capable of unspeakable acts in the name of protection and execution. Still, it does little to abate her nerves.

She whispers, “Roman…my father…” She feels physically sick, the weight of it all making it difficult for her to properly express herself, explain to him the real reason behind her concern. “He….he’s dangerous.”

Roman’s expression is unreadable, but she can’t tell if that’s because she’s so in her head or he’s put back on that mask that the rest of the world sees. That obscured countenance that’s no doubt deeply aided in all of his success. “Solana, I told you before, I’m not a good man. I’ve hurt more, killed more, tortured more people than you can ever imagine.” He’s not trying to scare her. She knows this. Just trying to remind her of who the fuck he really is. “That son of a bitch has no idea what dangerous is.”

“I just—” She’s able to simplify it all to one basic word that carries so much more than what he probably realizes. “I’m scared.” 

Roman sighs, disposition softening a bit. “I figured you would be…” He matches her gaze, almost needing her to look at him directly as he speaks without an ounce of indecision. “Solana, I would never leave you if I thought danger was present. Nothing’s going to happen to me or you.” He brings his mouth to her shoulder, pressing a kiss. “Solo will guard you, and I asked Bayley to come stay here at the house with you until I get back.”

The last part is what gives her the most pause and a small slice of comfort. “R–really?”

He nods. “I’d have asked Naomi too, but that means Jimmy be over here, and the last time his ass was here while I was gone, I had to redo the whole damn fireplace.”

She smiles and laughs a little, a much needed respite from all of her big emotions. There’s a story there. She’d love to know, but timing is everything. Maybe another day.

His lips linger on her temple, vowing, “everything’s gonna be fine.”

Interestingly enough, even in all of the confidence of his delivery, Roman is secretly wondering the same thing as Solana.

Will it?

________

The house feels strange without Roman.

Yes, he’s typically gone the majority of the days and makes it back late in the evening, but there’s still his presence at some point or another.

The past few days, however, have not provided that.

And while Solana is deeply grateful for Bayley’s presence, it’s still not the same.

It’s not Roman. 

She sits across Bayley and Naomi in the living room, Dulce snuggled up next to her as the three women chit chat about any and everything. Solana does her best to be as deeply immersed as possible. It keeps her from checking her phone to see if Roman has replied to her text.

In the time he’s been gone, their communication has been sparse. He always replies, eventually, but she’s noticed that she’s the one who’s initiated most of it. It makes her feel like a bit of a nuisance, like she’s bothering him. 

But, it’s the only thing that keeps her anxiety grounded. To be able to maintain contact with him. To know he’s okay.

Naomi notices this, sees the way she keeps glancing at her phone as if that’ll make it light up with a certain five letter name. “Don’t take it personal, girl. Roman does this every so often.”

At that, her attention fully switches from the phone to Naomi’s statement. “What do you mean?”

“He disappears for a few days. No more than a week. Goes completely off the grid. No contact with anyone. Not even Paul. Does it every couple months, sometimes more frequently.” She says it like it’s normal, like it should make sense. “He’s done it for years.”

“Despite the Bloodline being pretty family oriented, he can be a bit of a loner.” Bayley chimes, throwing some popcorn in her mouth.

Solana frowns, confused and slightly troubled by this information. “Where—where does he go?”

Naomi shrugs. “I don't know. Only the twins do, but they’ve never said shit and never will. They all might annoy each other on a daily basis, but the loyalty among the three of them is unmatched.”

Solana’s mind is racing. She can see someone like her husband wanting and maybe even needing time to be by himself. But the fact that it’s a regular thing, not to mention such a secret thing, has her mind racing and wondering just where does he go? What does he do while he’s gone?

Something Naomi said makes Solana clarify. “We’ve been texting since he left. Not…not as much as we usually do when he’s here, but he’s communicated with me.”

Naomi’s eyes widen. “Seriously?” Solana nods, almost unsure. “Damn. That’s a first then. He never talks to anyone when he leaves like that.”

Solana is quiet. Unsure of what to make of that either. Confused as to why Roman would break ‘tradition’ for her. And then she’s embarrassed, frustrated with herself for not being respectful of him and his time.

He doesn’t have all the time in the world to deal with her and her neediness.

Grabbing her phone, she sends out two texts and puts it face down, determine to not check again until later in the evening.

Solana: I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you while you’re trying to work.

Solana: I’ll leave you alone. Just please be careful.

Bayley is looking over in Solana’s direction when her eyes land on something. “Holy shit, is that what I think it is?” Solana frowns, confused as Bayley’s mouth slips into a shit eating grin. “It is. Damn, how did I not notice that before?”

And before Solana can ask, Bayley hits Naomi on her arm, pointing to Solana’s neck. “They must be having a good ass time over here.”

That’s when Solana realizes what she’s referring to. Her cheeks start to burn a bit as she places her hand over the courtesy of a certain husband of hers hickey.

Naomi is also smiling cheekily. “A very good time.”

But, it’s this conversation that paves the way for something else. That reminds Solana that these two ladies are her friends, her confidants, and also a lot more experienced in a certain area where she most definitely is not.

“Can I ask you guys something?” Naomi and Bayley both turn to Solana at the same time with Bayley being the first to speak. 

“Come on, Solana. You already know you can ask us anything.”

“Yeah. That shouldn’t even be a question.”

That was the easy part, the harder part comes with unveiling the nature of her request. “It’s umm—it’s about sex.”

While she initially expects some type of discomfort, she only receives an increased level of intrigue. 

“You can most definitely ask then.” Bayley quips, pulling her legs up under her on the sofa. “What’s going on?”

Solana starts to ask them to keep it between the group, but it feels redundant. She’s learned to trust that their conversations remain private and confidential. “Roman and I—umm—” Yup. this is definitely the hard part. “I asked him if we could….if we could work up to eventually, umm, having….you know.”

Naomi makes an ‘o’ with her mouth and then nods, almost reassuringly. “Okay.” She seems to be thinking on how she wants to ask, “are you—would it be your first time?”

Solana shakes her head, gaze dropping to her lap. “No. I—umm—” She presses her lips together and briefly closes her eyes, sharing in a quiet tone, “I was raped when I was younger.”

There’s such a mixed, jumbled bag of emotions at saying it aloud. At acknowledging her trauma without allowing that fact to overwhelm her. It’s only the second time she’s said it to anyone other than herself, but there’s also this space that feels a sense of relief at not having to hold it all in anymore.

That part of it….it’s liberating.

Naomi, however, looks distraught. “Oh my god, Solana, I’m so sorry. I didn't know—”

“No, no, it’s okay. How could you have known?” Solana knows they mean no harm, that Naomi was asking out of genuine interest vs trying to get her to divulge her trauma. She also appreciates how neither woman looks at her with an overwhelming sense of sympathy. Like they feel bad for her. Solana doesn’t want that anymore. 

Doesn’t want to be seen as a victim anymore.

She takes a deep breath. “That’s why touch is hard for me, but I’ve been—I’ve been using this workbook for people who were assaulted, and it’s—it’s been helping a lot.” That feels like putting it lightly. Solana has felt life changing differences from working through that book. “But now, I—I want to try to have…that with him, but I don’t—there’s a lot I don’t know about….about pleasing a man.”

Bayley again exchanges looks with Naomi before taking over the conversation. “Does….does Roman know about—”

“He does.” She nods, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “He….he was the first person I told.”

And she doesn’t regret it. Maybe regrets that she doesn’t recall how exactly it came out, but she’s happy he was the one to be there with her in that moment of release. 

“Okay.” Bayley seems relieved at this knowledge. So does Naomi. “And I don’t mean to make you feel like you need to tell him. That’s your truth. You tell or don’t tell anyone you want, but I do think him knowing could help him be….I don’t know, patient?”

Solana nods, explaining with all the truth and sincerity, “he’s been really great with that.”

Because he has. Roman has met her every step of the way of this journey, ready and willing to give her whatever she needs. 

“Good.” Naomi also appears genuinely reassured by this piece of information. “But also, Solana, it shouldn’t be about you pleasing him. It should be about him pleasing you.”

Solana shifts in her seat, shrugging slightly as she admits, “I don’t—I don’t even know if it could be…could be pleasing for me.”

That’s the part she struggles with. Tries not to think too much about it for fear of it hindering her progress. If the trauma of what she endured permanently ruined that for her. 

Naomi, however, is quick with the rebuttal. She shakes her head. “Trust me. With the right partner who knows what he’s doing, it can definitely be pleasing.”

“I guess that’s what worries me too. He’s….he’s so experienced, and I’m—I’m not.” She frowns, sharing and unveiling a layer of vulnerability. “I don’t want it to be…..to be bad for him.” Solana has heard and learned enough by now to know that her husband is a person who likes sex, who’s tumbled in the sheets with more women than she’d probably care to know. And that part doesn’t bother her as much as the comparisons component does. It’s hard not to think about how he’s well versed and probably has high expectations that she’s almost certain she could never exceed, let alone meet.

It’s a bit discouraging, to say the least.

“Fuck him,” Bayley suddenly exclaims and then clarifies. “Not literally, but like, girl, this really is about you. This is….this has to be a big thing for you, and the fact that you’re even willing to try it makes me think Roman must be doing something to make you feel comfortable enough to try it with him.”

That’s an understatement. A small smile falls on her face, just thinking about the measures he’s taken to ensure her comfortability. “He is….he’s really good to me.”

Naomi jumps in. “And that just blows my mind because he’s never been with any woman the way he is with you. He’s never given a damn about them, but he clearly cares about you. And that also makes me think he’ll also be all about making you feel good versus you getting him off.”

That gives Solana a slice of comfort. The fact that he seems to be going against his preferred sexual nature to meet her exactly where she is. He hasn’t given off any indication this is something that bothers or frustrates him. At least none that she’s seen yet. 

Bayley suddenly shifts gears a bit, seeming a bit awkward as she struggles to get out her sentence. “I will say though, there are….rumors that….well—” She turns to Noami, advising. “Might want to cover your eyes.”

She instead rolls her eyes. “Girl, he’s family by marriage. Not blood. I’m listening.”

Bayley laughs as Solana continues to look on a bit confused. “There are a lot of rumors that Roman is….well, he’s big all over. Like….everywhere.” She gestures to her crotch area. “You get my drift?”

And though her cheeks are painted red to match the heat inside at this conversation, Solana nods. “We….we were kissing the other day. Well, maybe more making out, and he….well, he became…..he got hard, and it was….noticeable.”

Solana feels a bit mortified at sharing such intimate details of her interaction with Roman, but Bayley and Naomi seem almost vindicated. “Oh my god, so they are true. I knew it.” 

Naomi is fanning herself as she points out. “also, sis, if he’s getting hard just from kissing you, then he’s definitely gonna be all about you when you guys finally go there. His attraction to you is insane.”

Solana can’t find it in her to deny that.

Because her attraction to him is just as intense, if not more.

Bayley practically squeals but clears her throat, switching back to a more serious tone. “But back to the initial topic, because he’s well endowed, it may hurt a bit at first. It’s a matter of learning your partner, and your partner learning you. Communication is also key. If something isn’t right or doesn’t feel good, let him know.” Solana internally winces at the comment about it hurting. That’s a part that makes her nervous, that pain bringing on flashbacks of her assault. But, that’s also when she knows she has to remind herself that this isn’t that. That Roman isn’t them. 

He’s not trying to hurt her.

Naomi gives her gentle shove. “But, once you get past that pain, it really can be a wonderful thing.”

It makes Solana smile a bit. That’s what she’s hoping for.

“Especially with Roman, cause I mean this with all the respect in the world, Solana, but that man is fine as hell.” Bayley lifts her hands in a surrender motion. “Don’t worry, I don’t want him like that, but I’m not blind either.”

“It wouldn’t make a difference even if you did, cause baby, he is all about Solana.”

Solana’s blushing is on level 10 as she looks down, shrugging with one shoulder, “he’s….he’s really great. I—I’ve never had a man be so nice to me before.”

Naomi shakes her head. “That’s because you’ve never dated a real man before. Hell, you’ve never been around real men until now. Because real men don’t do what your shithole ass brother and father did to you. And probably your ex’s too. Cause I feel like you mentioned an ex.”

Solana nods, gently disclosing some details of her last relationship. “He used to…he used to talk about my weight.” One of many things, but that seemed to be his favorite talking point. “I think I tried to make it work because…well, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because he never tried to make me do anything with him. He…he used to say that I—that I was too fat for him to want to fuck me.”

Four months ago, talking about this would maybe have Solana in tears. But now, it just somewhat upsets her that someone could be so cruel, that she ever believed that. That she ever believed she was so unappealing that no man would want to be with her in that way.

Meanwhile, Naomi looks like she’s contemplating murder. “Girl, please give Roman that man’s name so he can fuck his bitch ass up.”

“Fuck that. I’ll fuck him up myself because what in the actual hell?” Bayley seems legitimately pissed off too. “Like bro, if your dick is small, just say that.”

“Solana, on a scale of 1 to 10, how attractive was your ex?”

She has to think about Naomi’s question. At the time, the score might have been higher, but now, it’s much lower due to well learned common sense. “Maybe a 4.”

“And on a scale of 1 to 10, how attractive would you rate Roman?”

That’s probably the easiest thing she’s been asked all day. “A 10.”

“Exactly, so if a fine ass man like Roman sees how equally fine you are, you do realize your ex was just an insecure prick, right?”

That’s also a surprisingly easy answer. Solana shakes her head. “I do now.” He was never good enough for her, and she never deserved to be spoken to so cruelly. These are facts she cannot and will not dispute.

“Good.” Naomi sighs with relief, leaning back into the sofa. “God, I hate the male species sometimes.” She takes a sip of her wine and is back on track, “but anyway, back to you and Roman, just make sure you stretch real good.”

“Oh my god, Naomi.”

“What? We can’t have her out here not prepared.” She defends and advises, “If you’re on top, and I don’t know, that may be better for you so you feel more in control, moving your hips as if you’re spelling your name will make any man come in under a minute. Guaranteed.”

Bayley adds on, “yeah, but you also gotta have strong legs if you’re riding. I be getting cramps and shit.”

Solana is trying to sit on this information, a strange yet pleasant feeling pooling in the small of her stomach at some of the things being said as well as a brief glimpse of those things coming to fruition.

She shifts in her seat. 

Naomi then unintentionally provides a nice detour of the conversation. “But wait, I have to ask just how well did your date go with Roman because ya’ll seem to have jumped hurdles in such a short time?”

Just thinking about their surprise date has her smiling all over again. “The date was really nice, but—but you guys didn’t have to go through all that.”

Bayley chuckles. “Not according to Jimmy.”

“Jimmy?” Her frown is back. “What are you talking about?”

Naomi is the one to answer, explaining, “he said when we went to see Roman the other day at his office, ya’ll were arguing. It’s why he rushed to have us set up that dinner. Said it was a bad fight.”

“Arguing?” Solana shakes her head. “No. No. We—we were kissing when he walked in.” And the blush is back again at the memory of his soft lips on hers for the first time. A first she’s certain she’ll never forget. “Roman was irritated because we were interrupted. Not…not at me.”

“Lord Jesus, I swear my husband is lucky he’s fine because the way this boy really had us all thinking ya’ll were about to get divorced or something.” Naomi is rubbing her temples. “So, you’re both good?”

Solana nods. She’s not sure she’s ever been more happy in her life than she has been the past couple weeks.

Not since her mom was alive. 

The women continue to chat it up, switching gears and topics when Jimmy and Jey arrive, both heading straight for the fridge to grab the containers of food she had ready and waiting for them.

It’s when the group is trying to settle on a movie or something to watch when Solana finally checks her phone to see her lock screen littered with notifications.

All from Roman.

She immediately unlocks it, reading over the messages.

Roman: Solana, you never bother me. 

Roman: Where is this coming from?

Roman: Answer the phone.

It’s only then she sees she has a missed FaceTime call from him as well. 

Solana untangles her legs and gets up from the sofa, laying Dulce in her bed so she doesn't try to jump off the sofa. 

She attempts to let the group know of her brief absence. “I’ll be right back. Roman called me.” 

Bayley sort of nods in acknowledgement, but the other three seem stuck on trying to pick between a comedy and a thriller. 

Solana taps at her phone and hits the call button as she moves through the kitchen to go out the backdoor.

Roman answers almost immediately. 

She slides the door shut behind her, opening up with a textbook apology. “I’m sorry, I was talking to Bayley and Naomi, so I wasn’t checking my phone.”

He doesn’t waste a second in jumping right to the point. “Why do you think you’ve been bothering me?”

Solana takes a minute to get situated on the sun chaise, setting up the phone so it’s propped against the back of the chaise while enjoying the excuse to not have to give him an immediate answer. 

“I don’t know.” She finally answers, gaze on her crossed legs instead of him, an intentional deflection. “I was looking over our texts, and I didn’t realize just how much I’ve been texting you.”

“Solana…”

“I just didn’t mean to be messaging you so much when you’re trying to work.”

“Solana, you should know me by now to know I don’t do anything I don’t want to fucking do. If I didn't want to respond to you, I wouldn’t have.” He says it so confidently that she almost doesn’t feel like she has the right to not believe him. “I would have left you on delivered just like everybody else. But you’re not everybody else, so I responded.”

Solana looks up, noticing that he’s sitting outside as well, on a patio of some sort. Same as her.

“I know something else triggered that for you, and I’m gonna find out what it is, but I’ll let it go for now.” She’s thankful for that too. This doesn’t seem like a FaceTime type of conversation anyway. “How you feeling?”

“Good.” It’s an accurate answer. Him being home would make things even better. “Having Bayley here has helped a ton. Thank you again for asking her to stay with me.” According to Bayley, it was less him asking and more of him telling, but Bay stressed that she was more than okay with it, hence Solana not feeling like she was inconveniencing anyone.

“I knew you wouldn’t want to be alone.” And she’s appreciative of that. That he’s seemed to learn her well enough to know that even with Dulce, it would be an uncomfortable thing for her. “You said Naomi’s there?” She nods. “Fuck, Solana tell me you didn’t.”

And it’s interesting to her how she already knows where this is going. A small smile growing on her face. “They’re your cousins.”

He ignores that, straight up asking. “Did you let them back in the house?”

Feeling a bit emboldened, she throws it back at him, asking. “Did you ban them from the house?”

Solana was wondering why the twins hadn’t been over since Roman was away, only for Naomi to inform her that they’d been getting denied entrance at the gate to Roman’s property.

A directive from Roman himself prior to him leaving. 

And he doesn't even try to deny it. “I sure fucking did.” 

Solana shakes her head, but she can’t help the smile on her face. His relationship with his cousins is so comical to her. “Roman, that’s mean.”

“Solana, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a nice person.” She starts to push back on that, push back on his belief that he’s somehow not a good person when he’s one of the best people she’s ever met. “I like you, tolerate them, and hate everyone else. Matter of fact, they asses are about to be grouped into the hate category too.”

“They’re not that—” And before she can finish her line of defense, a loud sound, a shattering of sorts cuts through that attempt. She frowns and turns toward the house.

“Man, what the hell did you do!”

“Aye, it ain’t my fault! I told you the shit couldn’t hold your weight!”

“See, now ya’ll breaking shit in Big Dog house! This why he don’t be wanting ya’ll over here!” Jimmy’s voice becomes louder and clearer followed by the sliding door opening and Dulce running out, jumping at the chaise for Solana to pick her up. 

She does as such, noticing that Dulce is shaking, most likely in fear. “Jimmy, what—”

“What the fuck did ya’ll break now?” 

Roman’s voice catches everyone off guard, even Dulce whose ears perk up and tail starts to wag as she sees him on the phone screen.

Jimmy looks a shade of anxious asking in a harsh whispered voice. “Damn, SoSo, why you ain’t tell me ya’ll was still on?”

“Fuck! I stepped on glass!”

“I told your dumbass to put shoes on!”

“Ayo, Bay, watch ya’ fucking mouth, alright?”

Jimmy chuckles almost nervously, moving near Solana to be in frame of the camera. “Whasup, cuz. Nothing. We just, uh, was watching a movie.”

Roman looks even more irritated at the obvious lie. “Ya’ll got ten minutes to get the fuck out of my house—”

“Damn, Uce, I hear Naomi calling me. I’ll see you when you get back!” And Jimmy doesn’t even wait for Roman to reply, no doubt the continuation and issuance of a threat anyway.

But it’s as he runs back into the house, bickering continuing between him and Jey that Solana rethinks her initial stance. “Maybe….maybe you have a point.”

“Do you see what I’m saying?” Roman looks at Dulce who continues to look at him through the screen, barking occasionally. She’s so excited to see him. “Look, even the damn dog don’t like em’. Ain’t that supposed to be man’s best friend or something?”

Roman’s irritation is felt through the screen, but it doesn’t scare her, doesn’t bother her. Her smile grows again as she asks, “are—are you still coming back Sunday?”

His answer comes on the end of a long sigh, his anger naturally melting away. “yes.”

An instant wave of relief washes over as she asks a follow up question. “So you got everything figured out?”

He hesitates, looking at her for a bit before answering. “For now.”

Solana wants to ask more, because she knows there’s more. He’s saying just enough to answer her questions, and while she normally would leave that alone, there’s a part of her that worries. Something was clearly bothering him before he left, and he suddenly feels or at least seems better. She can’t help but wonder what was bothering him, what helped him to feel better.

Or who.

Because she can’t stop thinking about the information she received from Naomi. It’s not uncommon for Roman to disappear every couple months, sometimes more frequently, okay. But just where does he go and why is it some big secret?

“You’re overthinking something.” Even however many miles away he is, Roman is still exceptionally adept at reading her. “What is it?”

Lying to him isn’t an option, but the full truth isn’t either. “Just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m good, Solana. I promise.”

She wants to believe him, but it’s hard. She just does her best to not feed too much of the anxiety. 

Studying his face, she has to force herself to get past his attractiveness to recognize the dark circles under his eyes. “You’re probably tired.” Not to mention, she feels bad for pulling him away from whatever he was doing. “I should go help them clean up.”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of talking to you.” Her stomach flutters with all the butterflies only he can seem to give her. “And no, they broke the shit. Let them clean it up.” He easily adds on, “besides, I need to run some things by you.”

This gives her pause, as she stammers a bit. “O–okay.”

“One. I need to know what you want and want to do for your birthday. Two, there’s a Gala next week I have to attend, and I want you to come with me.”

Two major things, the first of which she didn’t realize was coming, the second she doesn’t even know how to think about. 

And maybe it’s less she didn’t know her birthday was coming and more it’s been so long since she’s acknowledged her birthday. Since anyone around her acknowledged her birthday. It feels almost foreign just the idea of doing anything.

Finally, she answers more of his first question than the first. “Nothing. I don’t—I’m not big on birthdays.”

She hasn’t been since her mother’s murder. 

That was the last year anyone ever told her happy birthday.

Roman, however, doesn’t seem to find this as an acceptable answer. “No, your pussy father and brother probably barely acknowledged your birthday, but I’m not them. We’re doing something. Preferably something out of town, because if my fucking cousins interfere in any way, I’m killing them.”

Her smile returns, soft and slightly amused. “Roman, you don’t have to. I just—just come back home, and I’ll be fine.”

And it’s the truth. Just him being back will be more than enough.

Again though, enough for her, but clearly not him. “I’ll handle it then.”

She shakes her head. “Ro—”

“What about the gala?”

Something tells her his mind is made, and when that happens, there is no room for negotiation. So she redirects her focus on the next topic. A gala sounds fancy, uppity almost. It doesn’t seem like his setting, but something also tells her it’s more an appearance he has to attend as leader of the Bloodline vs a preferred outing. 

But, there’s only one main question at the front of her mind. “Will you be with me the whole night?”

“Of course.”

There’s an instant wave of relief as she agrees. “I’ll go.” As long as he’s with her, she’s okay. And if he has to be there, she’d like to at least support him in any way she can.

“Good.” He seems pleased by this, adding on coyly. “Selfishly, I just want to see your fine ass all dressed up.”

Solana giggles as Dulce barks. A comfortable silence settles over them as something flutters in her chest, a warm, almost fuzzy type of feeling. 

Happy. 

She feels happy.

But….but something else. Something both warm and cool, different but familiar, pleasing but scary. A perfect yet imperfect balance of feelings. 

Lips parting, she tries her best to ignore the thumping feeling in her chest. “Roman, I–”

“Ayo, Soso, ya’ll got a fire extinguisher?”

________

“Still nothing?”

It’s the first thing Xavier asks as soon as his son steps foot in his hospital room. It was only a few days prior that Wes was released, finally cleared and recovered enough from his injuries sustained from the Bloodline.

Xavier, however, has not been as lucky. Age and a body already riddled with health issues has prolonged his stay. However, this has only given him time to think, time to plan, time to really evaluate the actions that got him here.

His son answers with a cold, "no."

But while Xavier has schemed, Wes, however, has only stewed. Sat and become overcome with feelings of rage. All directed to one person.

Solana

Just thinking of her makes him snap as he punches his still healing fist into the closest wall. “That little bitch betrayed us!” 

Xavier is used to his son’s violent outbursts, so he has no reaction other than a knowing smirk. “Maybe not.”

Wes looks at his dad, wondering if he’s so high on morphine that he has no idea what he’s saying. “Have you spoken to her? Cause I sure fucking haven’t. She was supposed to keep in contact!”

“She was supposed to earn Reigns trust.” Xavier corrects calmly. “And it seems she has.”

Wes calms down a bit, interested in where his father is going. “What are you talking about?”

“Think about it.” Xavier thinks highly of his son, recognizes his potential for greatness. But there’s still some room for growth. Wes can often be blinded by his own hubris. “That level of rage Reigns had….that wasn’t his usual. It was personal.”

Wes is still stumped, not following fully. “What do you mean? That smug bastard is always like that.”

“No. He came after us specifically for her. Because he was upset about whatever she’s told him we’ve done.” Xavier doesn’t waste the opportunity to bestow a lesson upon his son. He asks, challenging his critical thinking skills, “why do you think that is?”

Wes is quiet, thinking carefully on not only what occurred but what can be inferred between the lines of what occurred. And as realization sets in, so does his vile grin “He cares about her.”

Xavier smiles wickedly. “Exactly.” He rests against the pillow behind his back, ignoring the pain that just that slight movement causes to shoot through his still healing body. Damn morphine must be wearing off. “It seems our little beauty has enchanted the beast.”

Wes nods but then points out. “But how can we be sure? It could very well just be him being possessive. Feeling disrespected only because he sees her as an extension. What we see as personal could just be pride.” 

Another smile befalls Xavier’s still bruised, cut up face. “You’re learning.” He nods, grabbing his phone. “That’s exactly correct. We must know for certain before making any moves.” He flips his phone showing the exclusive invite to William Regal's annual gala. “But, I know exactly how we’re going to find out.”

[homunculus-argument]

Hey you know what's a quick way to bring a sense of depth to the world of your story?

Stereotypes and clichés.

Specifically, in-story stereotypes and clichés. If you're writing a story, or worldbuilding just for fun, you're probably the creative type of a person, so it's easy to have a blind spot on the fact that most people don't really put all that much value on originality, or don't care to go out of their way to come up with something unique and creative when it comes to things like naming places, children or animals, so they don't really see it as a skill worth honing in its own right.

So don't be scared of including people like that in your story. Just because you came up with everything in it, and put a lot of work and pride into coming up with new and original ideas, nothing drives home the sense that none of this is new to your world than letting there be characters who haven't had an original idea in their lives no matter how hard they try, or even actively disapprove of coming up with anything new not only because they Honour The Traditional Way, but because their own attempts at doing something original were laughed out of them in their youth and they don't like anybody else having the freedom to come up with their own things, if they couldn't have that.

Let there be stereotypical people. Specific songs that Somehow Always Get Played At Weddings, the kind of magic that middle-aged women who have never dappled in magic before always seem to pick up whenever they do, two separate families who named their daughter who was born during a storm after the heroine of the same poem of a woman who was born during a storm.

A newly graduated dragonrider who hastily just changed the name of his grey-with-black-markings dragon from Storm to Stratagem on the spot because the people he just met have spent the past 15 minutes making fun of newly graduated dragonrider boys who get a grey-and-black dragon and predictably always name them "Storm", and he panicked to save face.

[hyesk3y]

nobody gets me (you do)

Lee Heeseung x reader

synopsis : Little did you know that you would be the ones to save each other.

w.c : ~10.9k

warnings : comfort fic! mainly fluff with brief mentions of drugs, alcohol and sex, slight angst, mentions of side character death, mild kissing and some skinship, lmk if anyth else!

song rec🪽: nobody gets me - sza

----------------------------------------------------------------

Getting here wasn't a breeze, the hardships you endured just to be able to be call Lee Heeseung your boyfriend would have been enough to drive anyone else away. After all, he did have a certain reputation. Having to bear with the countless rumours that left you crying yourself to sleep at night, the countless encounters with the girls obsessed with him in the girls' bathrooms. The number of times you've both argued and fought just because you "caught him cheating" after seeing pictures of girls in his lap at a party, or when people told you he was hooking up with someone behind your back, when in reality he was in fact not interested in anybody but you, rejecting every other girl without a thought, shoving them away, and flipping them off. This barely even suffices to highlight how much you have gone through because of him, but still you stayed. Why? 

{more under the cut}

Park y/n, a name that everyone in Decelis Academy knew. It was the name that was at the top of every grade report. Regardless if it was for the most useless subjects like physical education, or if it was for the subjects that would determine if one would even graduate. You were known for always being so on the ball when it came to your studies. Never one to really associate herself with anyone else besides your best friend, Sunoo. A "goodie two shoes" they said.

Lee Heeseung, the boy who'd earned himself a permanent spot at the bottom of the grade report for his year. The boy who seemed to have a never-ending line of girls waiting for a chance to get with him, the boy whose life revolved around parties, alcohol, drugs and sex. 

One would question how in the world he managed to get accepted into the most prestigious and exclusive academy in the country with a lifestyle like his. He was the typical bad boy from a wattpad story, the epitome of delinquency. He always stuck with the same group of friends- doing all the illegal shit together, as if it were the activities of a typical person at that age. Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon were Heeseung's closest friends. Though many thought that the only reason the 4 hung out together was to create trouble, party and get high, they were simply misunderstood. They knew each other's darkest secrets, ones they’d carry to their graves, and they would have done anything to protect each other. They were all each other had, as thick as thieves, inseparable. 

Heeseung liked to make himself think that he had all he needed: money, popularity, good friends. But he’d always known that deep down there was one thing he yearned for the most. Hell, it kept him up some nights, some nights it's what helped him fall asleep when he wasn't high. And it was the desire for someone who could love him for himself, flaws and all. Someone to fill the void in his heart.

He knew the effects of his reputation, the kind of people it attracted. And none of them could have been that person who really understood him. 

So why did you stay? Because you knew him. Not the whole "high all the time and couldn't give a fuck about anyone but himself" persona. But the persona of the broken boy behind all of his facades that managed to fool everyone but yourself. The boy that you found on the school rooftop one day, smoking a cigarette while the traces of tears on his cheeks dried from the sun, grieving the death anniversary of his mother. 

You too had your fair share of problems and were trying to escape them. You had received your report card and to your absolute dismay, not only did you fail a subject  for the first time since you were 14, you failed multiple. miserably. 

You never had a good relationship with your parents who wanted absolutely nothing but perfection from you, in all areas. To any other parent, you would have been a star in their eyes, their trophy child. But to your parents, you were nothing but disappointment. Nothing you did was good enough for them. Absolutely nothing. And when you looked at that piece of paper, you wanted to die. You thought that maybe even death would be less painful than the punishment you were to receive from your parents. You wanted to run away. From them, from the expectations of the world, from yourself even. But you found him. 

Despite being the boy everyone sought after for his good looks and sex-appeal, Heeseung's life wasn't all that, either. He had lost the only parent that genuinely cared about him not long before practically getting abandoned by the man he once called "father", who had grown sick of his delinquent lifestyle, miserable grades and the people his son surrounded himself with. It’s not like he cared about him anyways, always doting on his other son who was the exact opposite of Heeseung. Even while Heeseung’s mother was around, it was as if Heeseung didn’t even exist in his world. Her passing only allowed her husband to completely write himself off as Heeseung’s father. 

His father had cut off all personal contact with Heeseung, leaving him with a penthouse apartment in the city to live in, a nice sports car to drive and a bank card which he said that he would deposit money into every month. This didn’t really bother Heeseung, at least it meant being away from the man that he’d grown to despise, but what really ate Heeseung alive, was the loneliness and longing for affection that only his mother had been able to provide him with. 

She had been the one that stopped him from truly hitting rock bottom, the one who showed him the value of life. But now that she was no longer around, he was truly left alone and he no longer saw that value. 

Yes, he had his friends that would have dropped everything to help him, that were undoubtedly there for him. But that didn't seem to be enough to stop him from slipping into habits much worse than what he was already accustomed to. All he wanted was for someone to save him from his misery. From himself.

That was until you came along. That day changed both your lives. You both sat on that rooftop for hours, talking to each other until the sun had set. You didn’t even realise when you started telling him about your worries until you saw him holding out his arms, offering a hug. You couldn’t possibly describe the emotions you felt stepping into his embrace. It just felt so safe. And eventually the emotional floodgates opened once again, and you began to sob more. 

If you asked Heeseung, holding you in his arms reminded him of the times he would be consoled by his mother after being beaten up by his father. And from that day, he swore to himself that he would do his best to be your place of solace in this evil world. He had even briefly shared about his own worries, barely scratching the surface of them. And after hearing what he had to say, you found yourself crying even more, holding on to him tighter as if he’d disappear if you didn’t. You two got significantly closer after that day, but you couldn’t help but feel entitled to be there for Heeseung the way he had for you.

It took much more effort and time to get to know Heeseung, because of the number of walls he had up protecting his heart. It was not easy, considering that even his friends struggled and are still somewhat struggling to do so. But you were more than willing to go the lengths to gain his trust. He was terrified. Terrified that once you got to know the person under it all, that you would leave him and hang him and his worries on a platform for all to see. 

But you never did. You were the only person that was successful in trying to get to know the person under all the walls he put up around his heart. From the day you found him on the rooftop, You stuck with him through it all. Despite his problems, his reputation and his less than legal habits, you never once left his side. 

He never left yours either, fighting for you against your own parents, holding you as if you were made of thin glass when your emotions got the best of you. He understood that under your own facade of being a top- student, someone who had everything under control, there was a girl who longed for validation and affection, just as he did. 

He would do anything under the sun, just to see you happy. Whether it’s just his mere presence, or buying you the most expensive gifts. To him, you were the one that hung the stars in his dark and empty sky. 

Eventually, his nights of getting high and drinking til he was black out drunk turned into late night study sessions with you, one night stands with random girls he’d just met turned into movie nights in his living room with pizza he had ordered in for you both, sleepless nights turned into sleeping soundly with you in his arms. He never thought that he’d reach this point, where he would finally be able to say that he was happy with where he was in life. Everything seemed to have fallen into place. He finally had good grades, he was able to have genuine fun with his friends without being intoxicated, he’d gotten rid of his delinquent-playboy reputation and most importantly, he’d found the person he yearned so long for. 

And you had never felt happier. Being with Heeseung taught you so many things, like what it felt like to truly be loved by someone, what it felt like to have someone to lean on. You were even able to finally move out of your toxic household, and into your now shared apartment with Heeseung. And as much as he taught you, you retaught him the meaning of life, showing him the value of it that he had lost sight of.

So much had happened, but you would both go through it again and again, if it meant being able to be where you were now. 

“Angel, you're zoning out. What’s going on in that precious head of yours, hm?” Heeseung says, shaking you from the daze you were in. You were lying in bed with him, supposedly watching Big Hero 6 for the umpteenth time. You sat up slowly, readjusting your position so that you were now lying on his chest facing him. “You know, I’m so glad we found each other. I’d go through everything again if it means I can spend every lifetime of mine with you. I’m just so happy,” you say softly as you put your ear against his beating heart. “I know, angel. I would too. I had never felt so misunderstood and alone. I thought I was happy, doing all the things I did, but really all I was doing was just distracting myself from the pain." He paused. "But in the end, we found each other didn’t we? We are here together now, and that's all that matters.” You lift your head once again to face him to see him already looking at you, a smile tugging at his lips. You feel his hands cup your face, thumb stroking your cheek gently as he connects your lips in a soft kiss, one that reassures you that he isn't going anywhere anytime soon. 

Later that night, when he thought you had already fallen asleep, he placed a kiss on your temple, saying something so quietly it was almost inaudible, and as if you had heard him, you snuggled closer to his chest in response.  “Nobody seemed to get me, but you do.”

a/n : hi everyone! hope you guys like this one, its the first long fic, and my first post on enhablr so i don't really know what to expect...soo, if you guys liked it do interact by reblogging and leaving a like!

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

okay so TENATIVE predictions for season 4: it looks like they're going to be playing into the mandela effect. half the universe remembers the umbrella timeline, half the universe remembers the sparrow timeline, and the ONLY thing both groups remember is Ben.

I've been praying since day one that Ben will have memories of both lives in his head, and judging by the fact he appears to be Going Through It in the trailer I assume that'll be the case.

since Ben is at the center of the conspiracy, I almost want to say he's who they're supposed to be rescuing? like, maybe instead of One Ben Two Lives, it's Two Bens One Cup. I don't think they'll do that, though. They're probably trying to rescue Jennifer. HOWEVER I do think it would be really sexy if Nick Offerman and Megahn Mullally weren't playing a couple but were instead playing the same person from different universes (hence being named Gene and Jean), and they somehow found each other and that's why they're leading this conspiracy.

Mystery Jennifer is stressing me out. obviously by the glowing she's got something going on. I'm thinking there's a possibility she was erased from the family's memories after Ben's death- the trailer makes it seem like Reginald made Allison rumor them after the fact. there's probably a decent chance they all knew her, she lost control of her powers, Ben died, Reginald locked her away and erased all traces of her. maybe in the sparrow timeline she died instead, or maybe she was always locked up there and Ben was drawing her from memories that were already starting to leak through from the og timeline, but either way probably in trying to uncover how Ben died they figure out they have to save her. idk!

also, six is like. a random number of years I'm sorry. why wouldn't they just say five years later? maybe another thing to do with Ben bc umbrella Ben was number six? I'm probably reading too much into that one.

I'm truly SO scared they're gonna reveal none of them have spoken during the time skip. Five doesn't deserve that 😭😭. in my perfect world him and Viktor have an apartment but the show writers 100% forgot they said those two were best friends when they were kids judging by the rest of the series rip. when the Gene and Jean characters were first announced I thought maybe Five got stuck in the foster system and they took him in, and that could still be the case (maybe that's how they noticed the universe is a lie in the first place, the boy loves to Yap) but I think it's less likely now idk

if Diego and Lila's daughter isn't named Gracie....what was this all for. what was this all building towards. what's the point. LMFAO I know the popular fanon one is Anita (personally in my head I've been calling her Poppy and I Don't Know Why) but like Gracie is the only name that makes sense, Diego is Too Much of a mama's boy to accept anything else.

this one isn't a prediction it's just a demand- I DEMAND a white violin icon moment set to extraordinary girl by green day. they can 100% get away with just doing an instrumental version since Viktor's not a girl lmfao, but it literally Haunts Me that they didn't do that at the end of season 1 (or at LEAST play the opening of letterbomb when Viktor was in the basement hallucinating) so they NEED to make up for that. it's the last season. play the fucking song oh my God.

there might be too much going on to bring the sparrows back in any meaningful way, but like! I liked them! I especially wanted more Marcus last season, he and Viktor had good chemistry. and Fei was an icon. Why Are We Hiding Sloane Tho. I considered maybe they were rescuing Sloane, but like, Luther just seems a little too happy for that to be the case? that's why I also think Diego and Lila's kid isn't the one being rescued like I saw some theories suggest- Diego is so excited and Lila's grinning in the car scene. can't imagine their 5 year old is missing.

Five is absolutely gonna die. like I'm sorry since episode 1 there's never been a believable outcome where everything's okay and he lives. HOWEVER I think there's a very strong chance the series could end with the timeline is finally saved and set right, and grandpa Five died- but then right at the end 2002 baby Five shows up and gets stuck in the safe timeline. Five has been a walking paradox the whole series. it'd be bittersweet to lose the Five we love, but know that he's still technically getting a happy ending because he doesn't have to live through the apocalypse and become an assassin. I think that's like the best outcome we can hope for.

I think it'd be EXTREMELY funny if Reginald is just super nice now that Abigail is back. like the entire excuse for 30 years of insane behavior was that he missed his wife. bestie there are better ways to cope than abusing superpowered kids </3 but lmao I'm intrigued by him and Viktor being together in both trailers! I've always gotten the feeling that Viktor is one of his 'favorites' (to the best of his ability anyway), and from the brief childhood flashbacks we see that he had baby V acting as an assistant for him, so I'd like to see their relationship expanded a little bit. honestly I just want a lot about Reginald cleared up- he does give off the distinct impression that he actually cares about his kids, even though he's abusive. I'm assuming the explanation will be something along the lines of 'well I always planned to bring you back and safe in the New Universe', that he was approaching it as a 'they have to suffer now to save the universe, and then they can be happy' mindset. that would be interesting. but I'm also a little worried they'll wave his behavior off with 'oh he's an alien he just can't understand how he affected them', which, would suck writing-wise.

I'm worried about Allison- I'm sure they're gonna want her to have a full redemption by the end of the series, but what she did to Viktor and Luther last season...like I just don't know that they'll pull off a meaningful redemption, to where it's believable that they forgive her (other than the fact they're both softies and push overs). not with the shorter season, anyway! I *think* the person Viktor was punching in the trailer was Allison. but I'm worried that instead of actually fixing the issue the writers will just have her do a sacrifice play. especially since, bless her, she's the least sacrificial person in the family, so I could see the argument that it'll be a meaningful character growth moment, but like...if they don't actually have her believably fix her mistakes it'll just feel like a lazy writing move. also, I love her and I don't want any of them to die. as I said, the only death I'm willing to accept is Five's WITH the promise of baby Five getting a happy ending.

I want the Handler to come back, even if it's only for one scene. sorry, I think her absence was one of the low points of season 3.

I think if Grace appears in this season at all it won't be the robot version we're used to, but an older version of her human self that Diego met in the 60s. could be very bittersweet. I just don't think the robot exists in this universe bc honestly if my husband revived me from the dead but then I found out he's been living without me just fine, but made a robot copy of a pretty young fling he had after my death and seemingly can't live without her. I'd be a little pissed! sorry! lmao that said I also have personally been headcannoning that Grace is actually a cyborg and not a robot this whole time, the kids just don't know because of all the insane protocols Reginald set up, so if they do something with that instead I'll be really excited.

Diego and Lila's daughter deserves powers<3

alright I think that's all I got for now. but I wanna hear more theories!!

[lampiridaes]

HIIII

Your finally open again 🫶🫶🫶

Can i request a tsukasa, rui and nene x reader (separate) and the plot is something like the song “something stupid” more specifically the verse “ the time is right your perfume fills my head the stars are read and oh the nights so blue, and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you “

Thank you xxxx I’ve missed youuu

♬ now playing: "i love you..."

-> saying you love them so suddenly, so unexpectedly... are you trying to give them a heart attack?

★ — chars ; tsukasa , rui , nene

★ — notes ; HELLO H :333 finally writing this. VERY SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!! lowkey got rlly excited to write this then BAAM. SCHOOL WORK EVERYWHERE.!!!! also listen to the song on loop as i was writing (michael buble's cover ft reese witherspoon bc i LOVE michael buble's voice) and it got me in the mood!!! I HOPE U LIKE READING THIS AS MUCH AS I LOVED WRITING IT!!!

★ — warnings ; open endings for all of them (nothing rlly insane lol) , otherwise none!

★ — taglist ; @asherenjoysart , @nogenderbee , @akitosheart , @nenes-numberonefan , @mintchocaur

affiliated with @virtualbookstore ★

★ track one: tenma tsukasa

the day before, tsukasa had invited you to go with this festival with him. there'd be lights, games, prizes... just about any other regular festival.

and yet, here you are with him. people around you are chattering, 'you won!' sound effects can be heard blaring around the entire area.

... surely, if you dropped the 'L' word, he wouldn't hear it.

"...i love you, tsukasa."

a soft yet sad smile can be seen on your expression. you really just said that for no reason, didn't you? how silly.

well, that was what you thought until tsukasa turned back at you, with this bright red blush on his face. yep, definitely heard you.

"...you do?"

this might be the most quiet you've heard from the boy. you were surprised he could even say something like that in such a meek voice.

it's all up to you now. do you want to admit it, change your friendship with him, or would you rather deny it and go back to square one?

★ track two: kamishiro rui

like every other day, you go hang out with rui as he's working on robots for a future show. as always, he appreciates your company. you're a good friend to him, and you also don't touch his works in progress without letting him know.

... also, you tend to ask him questions as he works. not too many to distract him, of course. he finds that rather cute, whether you believe it or not.

he also finds you keeping him company endearing, making sure he doesn't feel lonely... and it seems like you have similar feelings.

"i love you."

is what you thought you thought to yourself, but when rui looked back at you with a startled look on your face, you suddenly realize that you, in fact, said it out loud.

"i meant- i meant your inventions! your work... it's really impressive, rui."

great save there. he totally believed that. especially with how much you stammered.

"oh, that's disappointing. i was about to say the same back to you."

rui had that signature smirk of his, though this one... you could easily tell he lacks the regular cool, level-headedness it usually has.

whatever his intention was, it ended up making you blush in the process. this guy is really going to be the death of you, isn't he?

★ track three: kusanagi nene

you really can't shut your mouth, can you? the original plan was to simply help nene memorize her lines, making sure everything sounded smooth.

yet now you found yourself gazing at her adoringly. one thing led to another, and you just had to tell her that-

"i love you."

it was as if time stopped. you cover your mouth with your hand, gasping with surprise. nene wasn't any different—she was in total disbelief. and if that wide-eyed look on her face told you anything...

"...it's the next character's lines. i'm just... trying to help, yeah?"

the awkward smile on your face didn't make your words any more believable. not to mention, nene has already scanned over the script, she already knows what the actual line is!

"...i love you too."

... that wasn't nene's line. mostly because that wasn't even the other line to begin with, but when nene said that...? oddly suspicious, in the best way possible.

when you finally have the courage to gaze at her once more, you can even catch a glimpse of her subtle yet gentle smile.

"that's my line, after yours."

in a way, she wasn't wrong.

[ironmandeficiency]

the hobbit + hozier songs

characters included: kíli, bilbo, dwalin, thorin, nori, bofur, ori, fíli, dori, tauriel

word count: 1166

a/n: the amazing and precious @wordbunch inspired me to write these bc of her lotr/th characters as taylor swift songs posts & i couldn't be more excited to finally post this labor of love!! thank you bestie for listening to me scream abt this for nearly two months lol

kíli: foreigner’s god

he loves outside of his race and this fact causes undue scorn to be thrown at his feet. it’s unheard of for almost any dwarf, let alone one from the line of durin, to do such a thing. this does not deter him - it empowers him; if his heart could go against the traditions forged into his bones, molten in his hot blood, how could it not be true? the strength of his love is what helps him ignore the doubts shouted by the prejudice plaguing those who know nothing of his heart. that, and the sound of your laughter at his antics, the soft smiles only given to him when he’s being a little too charming… he could go on.

bilbo: like real people do

as much flack as bilbo gets from the company for not being conventionally tough, he’s not weak by any means. he’s familiar with the pain of loss, and how the ways one tries to rise above the grief that follows aren’t always savory. he knows there’s a respect to be found in the absence of prying questions, choosing simply to coexist in the feelings and allow answers to come in their own sweet time. he’ll put some tea on to cook and scrounge up some leftovers from the previous meal, sitting beside you and letting the comfort flow naturally, his soft lips soothing the most tender aches.

dwalin: work song

just looking at him, you wouldn’t think dwalin a sap. but with his insanely strong sense of loyalty and stalwart dedication, he can’t be anything but. he’s faced down innumerable evils in his time, braved the fiercest of storms that many of his comrades didn’t; none of them even come close to keeping him from you. your arms welcome him home without question after each fight he braves, and your letters tucked into secret compartments in his armor keep him warm between embraces. he’ll read them by the fire every night when he’s away, every gentle word carrying his mind away from thoughts of the day’s turmoil.

thorin: sedated

this sweet, sad man doesn’t think he deserves good things in life. this, unfortunately, includes having someone love him despite his flaws and past mistakes. he couldn’t resist admitting his feelings for you and was ridiculously shocked that you reciprocated & allowed him to love you. on nights when he feels his failures deeper, he’ll try to convince you that he doesn’t deserve you. vitriol will escape from worried lips and terrified heart, piercing you in the way only a lover knows how. a soft kiss, gentle words, and a few strokes through his hair will soothe these wounds from him for a time and allow him some of the peace he’s fought to find, but doesn’t always believe is earned.

nori: it will come back

it was decades since the last time nori thought of love, even longer since he believed himself worthy of it. meeting you only solidified his disbelief; how could someone look at him and see someone that deserved such a pure thing, after everything he’s done in his life? he’s stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to survive (and sometimes not for mere survival). his attempts to spurn you away from him only increased your determination to break through the fortress he built around himself. he could only be strong against your advances for so long before he crumbled, reluctantly accepting the love and peace and safety you offered so freely.

bofur: nobody

bofur’s done a lot in his time. he was born in the blue mountains, a colony that never seemed to find the prosperity needed to do more than simply survive. he is a brother, uncle, cousin, friend, toymaker, miner, member of the great company that reclaimed erebor. but through all his adventures and hardships, he never lost his playful streak. he wants to have fun with who he loves, wants a little bit of mischief to make his laugh louder and brighter. bofur is a fun-loving soul who, despite his wandering past, will always choose you over anywhere that you’re not.

ori: francesca

ori’s life has never been a peaceful one. being raised by dori and being followed by the whispers of his late amad’s reputation (not to mention nori’s) without a mountain to call home, it weighed on his shoulders. even his craft, the pride of every dwarrow worth their beard, happened to be one seen as miniscule in importance compared to smithing. every moment spent with his one, doing anything or nothing at all, eases the burden he carries and makes every moment of strife worth it just to be with the soul made to mirror his.

fíli: i, carrion (icarian)

your love for him seems almost too good to be true, the remnants of stories told in dusty tomes written by those with far more eloquence than he can claim to possess. that being said, he is definitely not one to look a gift boar in the mouth. he relishes in each tender moment, every second spent in your presence that carries him far beyond the constraints life has placed upon him. but he recognizes that life isn’t always so simple, retreating into your arms and wishing that everything around you both just disappears. there’s always reality, waiting patiently outside of your chambers for one faulty misstep to throw you both askew. that’s why he dedicates himself to showing you that if life does what it does best and deals harsh blows, he will be there for you through it all.

dori: shrike

dori never had time for love; he had two brothers to protect, one more wily than the other was young. his focus was on getting his brothers through the days, putting food on their plates and the semi-frequently used stash of bail money well-stocked. he allowed his feelings for his one to fall to the wayside in the name of preservation. he ignored their call for decades and braved out the pain that came with such a silence. he begged for his one’s forgiveness every time they called for him. but once the mountain was reclaimed and his brothers safe, he yearned for what he could have had. he would approach his one with much regret and sorrow for the time lost, but a pure hope that they could find forgiveness in their heart for him.

tauriel: unknown/nth

to earn her love is a feat unlike that which the world has known for a long time. being seen as worth all these mortal struggles and painful toils in the eyes of an elf, let alone one as fierce as tauriel, is quite the achievement to anyone outside looking in. to the red-haired warrior in question, though, giving her love to you has the same unthinking ease as breathing; it’s beyond instinct to do and just as necessary to her survival. you’re worth every century spent alone, every moment after knowing you spent away from you.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Taylor Swift Can't Write- She is not a serious or important writer. She is blatantly normalizing cheating in her music.

Let’s talk about Taylor Swift’s honest attempt at coherent narrative -  

Just to be clear, the songs in question: Betty (2020), August (2020), and Cardigan (2020). 

In these songs, Swift, of her own insistence, makes a clear attempt at drafting together a coherent storyline. I, however, found her work lacking while considering it against the many thousands of other short stories I have read. It lacks any sincerity in giving the moment in which the characters experience self-reflection, or "Epiphany" moment, and growth.

An Epiphany is defined as a sudden spiritual manifestation- and it is this I would posit as something that Swift clearly lacks in her writing. She lacks the spiritual, or emotional, depth to accurately tell a so-called "coming-of-age" type story in which the main requirement is that the character has an "Epiphany" about the nature of life to signify them growing up.

I will explain:  

A short story- which I am analogizing to the multi-song arch from Swift- is typically meant to have an epiphany moment in which the main character finally calcifies the main point or the moral of the story. Without the impact of this moment within a short narrative- there is no arc, no moral, and therefore no real story.

Afterall, what is a story, but a coherent subsistence of writing aimed at identifying some universality of human existence (eg.) a moral, a point, or the main message? If I want to get philosophical about it (and I always do), narrative is the act of creation through which the particulars become implicit to a universal experience. Thus, it is a necessity of storytelling- to include the thematic message- or moral backbone of the work.  

Swift’s three song arc is intrinsically incoherent, so it becomes difficult to pinpoint exactly what each character is thinking or feeling. I would, however, suggest that through lines like “slept next to her, but / I dreamt of you all summer long” (“Betty” 2020), and lines like “I never needed anything more/ whispers of ‘Are you sure?’ / ‘Never have I ever before’” (“August” 2020). Therein builds an internal tension between the three characters, James seems to be lamenting his choices to sleep with August and ditch Betty for the summer; whereas August is honestly expressing the fact that this is her first time, so it becomes obvious this means a lot to her. First, we see James's apologizing to Betty saying that the other girl, essentially means nothing by saying he was dreaming of Betty all summer even while with August. We also get the other perspective of the other girl losing her virginity to James during the same summer in which he is thinking about Betty every night.

Already, all the characters are set up to be dislikable- which is not always to the detriment of storytelling. However, it is to the detriment of her storytelling that at no point Swift makes use of external POV, or internal POV, to show any form of personal growth or condemnation of the intuitively morally corrupt actions of James here. Thus, there is no real story- according to the theory of “short-story” telling I laid out above.  

It is her lack of condemnation towards cheating- and the immature irreverence James treats August with- that solidifies this arc as being a rather poor attempt at coherent narrative. Simply, Swift is either an inept storyteller- or she is blatantly normalizing cheating while also treating “the other woman” like a placeholder. (Clearly, Anti-Feminist rhetoric, btw). It’s especially bad that this storyline reaches no “moral of the story” since it is so obviously August’s first time. 

The closest we get to any kind of meta-narrative commentary on thematic point, from Swift as the external 3rd person POV, is with this line “A friend to all is a friend to none/ Chase two girls, lose the one/ When you are young, they assume you know nothing” (“Cardigan” 2020). Again, her use of POV is rather amateurish- because she returns to internal 1st person POV with use of the word “you” in the latter half of the line- which leads me to believe she really doesn’t know how to inculcate the different POV’s into her writing. She’s an amateur- and there's is nothing inherently wrong with that, however, if we could all stop lauding her as literary genius when she is so clearly not that would be “awesome.” Thanks.  

She continues the rest of the song back into Betty’s 1st person POV. The poignant nature of this line about "losing one girl" doesn’t land because the rest of the song is about how James is returning to Betty. Swift writes, “I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired/ and you’d be standing in my front porch light/ And I knew you’d come back to me” (“Cardigan” 2020). Beside the fact that this line is internally incoherent held up against the setting of “Betty” which is broad daylight, so James would not actually be in the porch light if the sunlight suffices, it is also quite obviously the culmination in which Betty is taking James's back. If there is any thematic message here- and I can only loosely believe this is an actual message here- Swift is saying that cheating is Okay as long as the girl, you actually respect and want, is willing to forgive you.  

And I’m supposed to enjoy this arc? People are supposed to be impressed with Swift because she came up with this garbage?  

She clearly has no grasp on Narrative coherence, no grasp of utilizing POV switching to make narrative more emotionally impactful, and no grasp on how to embed a good moral of the story into her work. So, she has none of the markings of actual great writer.  

The effect of all this is a subterfuge of lackluster emotional appeals- and a toxic love triangle that never resolves into personal self-reflection or growth. The story devolves into blameless banality with no personality or literary value whatsoever- just a reiteration of self-centered egoism that enables James to act without thought to the feelings of others. This is what Swift propagates as good storytelling? Is this morally sound story telling?  

Let me further drive my point home by dichotomizing this pitiful attempt at narrative coherence with the work of a literary genius, James Joyce.  

Has anyone here ever read “Araby” (1914) by James Joyce? (Sidenote: If you love when Hozier talks about issues of British colonialism in Ireland- you will most likely enjoy James Joyce as well- if you love critique of both organize religion and its sociohistorical ties to colonialism- you'll love Joyce).  

My critique too- ties into Joyce, where he showcases the blissful ignorance, or naivety, of youth in pursuit of love, Swift showcases no such thing. She is often praised for her juvenile writing schema- yet in her most overt attempt at writing a youthful romance she fails to interject the most important aspect of youth- Naivety versus painful realizations. In adulthood, when we all reprise the past, and trace back into our memories, we often speak fondly of the naivety of youth- with a little knowing twinkle in our eyes as young people around us make the same mistakes we did. It’s so beautifully human to reflect like this- and Swift manages to add nothing of this universal human experience into her work, even though it is often said that her only saving grace is the ability to capture “teenage petulance” and the proclivities of youth. In other words, I’m saying she’s not even doing the thing she’s known for well enough. She writes this love story like they’re all a bunch of bitter adults, not kids stepping into thoughts of love for the first time. There’s no simple wonder at love- instead, she writes about cheating and feeling jaded. Ditching people for the summer only to come back to the first girl with an "I'm sorry" and "she meant nothing."  Where is the personal growth in a story like that? In which James gets away with saying "she meant nothing," and August is not shown having any agency or reclamation of self after James essentially uses her. Then, to top it all off, Betty most likely gets back together with James. There is no growth to speak of in any of this- it does not qualify as a "coming of age" story- nor does it particularly qualify as a story at all.

This is like English Creative Writing 101 class- btw. It's strange that Swift does not grasp concepts I've taught to college freshmen before. If the freshmen can handle learning it- surely Swift could also be able to learn and improve the thing she does as a job? Right? No?

 “Araby” is a story of a similar predicate to Swift attempt at narrative. So, I thought it most apt to include here as an example which also employs use of Epiphany in short story telling.  

In quick summation, “Araby” is the story of a young boy who has a rather intense crush on a neighbor girl. He promises this girl that he will go buy her something at the market, and in doing so sets off a sequence of events which leads to his ultimate disillusionment with the ideals of youth and love.

Early on in his character development, we see a boy who has an overly romantic view on life, with lines like “All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: ‘O love! O love!’ many times” (“Araby” Joyce). He is so clearly caught up in the longing for this girl- that he truly forgets reality for a moment. His senses slip from him, and he is fully immersed into the lost revery of his little crush on the neighbor girl. Then, like magic, she speaks to him for the first time the next day. She asks him if he will go to the market, and he responds eagerly- Yes. He promises to buy her something.  

The conflict of the story happens at this point- the young boy meets every obstacle in life preventing him from getting to the market on time. He struggles to find money and then he struggles to find the time in the midst of his other obligations to his family. Joyce is clearly showcasing how our romantic visions of life, of everything going perfectly and romance being easy, can so easily be disrupted by the realities of poverty and the responsibility we all bear for family or others.  

The end of the short story outlines the “moral of the story” in which the young man, now nearly too late for the market and without enough money to actually buy anything, with the last refrain that “Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger” (“Araby” Joyce). Thus, Joyce drives home the "epiphany" moment, or the self-reflective moment of character growth, as it pertains to the fruitless endeavors of youthful vanity in romance. Stating, essentially, that people only dream of overly romantic scenes to bolster their own perception of reality as something that should go perfect for them. Life is not perfect, nor is it ever fair, and nothing happens as fantasy suggests it should- this is the hardest, and often the first, life lesson young people ever face. Anguish and Anger. What a beautiful phrase to remark upon- as this poor young man realizes life is comprised mostly of being “a day late and a buck short.”

This intensity- this moral backbone is what brings the story to life. The way this story enumerates the youthful hope- to the burgeoning adult reality- as something full of anguish -allows readers to bridge empathy towards others as WE all grow up in a difficult world. This is the "Epiphany." This appeal universal human experience, through particular circumstances like that of a young man in early 1900’s Dublin, is what is missing in Swift’s work. She gives us nothing but her own selfish refraction of immoral behavior without any appeal to greater human impulse or discovery.  Her work rings hollow in the face of actually talented writers like Joyce. She lacks the same depth, sophistication, and ability to actually make the story into a narrative arc.

She claims to write about teenage, coming of age-esque, discovery yet lacks any ability to actually showcase, with empathy, the ways in which anguish at their own naïveté presupposes teenage petulance.  

She writes out the most shallow- surface level depiction of some b-plot from a bad fanfiction and wants to pretend that she is a literary genius. Yawn. 

Addendum- I am aware that “Araby” is also a story predicated on ideas of Freedom vs Colonialism. To those of you who know the story well, I hope you don’t mind I choose to focus in on the “coming-of-age" part of the story in order to more clearly connect it to Swift’s work. I am not, however, ignoring the real sociohistorical implications of poverty, colonialist attitudes, and human rights thematic points in the story. I know.  

“Araby” by James Joyce is free at The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dubliners, by James Joyce  

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: Girl on Fire

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Everyone is together, everything is complete.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!

Extra warnings for chapter: Pregnancy, breeding kink, violent sex, domestic violence on a man, gunshots, references to murder,, death, torture, all the horrors. The end was disturbing even to me, so read with caution. If you find the end was too much, just ask me what happens and I'll tell you. not super plot important but like it was pointed out, the sex is how we see dynamic shifts. Mentions of mpreg fantesy but no mpreg will happen bc they arent actually god, just insane.

3.7k words

A/N: Some pov shifts. Madonna, Jonah, Rey, Santi all get POV's.

A.N2: context for song quote, Alicia wrote girl on fire after the birth of her son.

Support writers! Reblog and leave comments!

"She's on top of the world Hottest of the hottest girls say Oh, we got our feet on the ground And we're burning it down Oh, got our head in the clouds And we're not coming down This girl is on fire" ~ Girl On Fire, Alicia Keys

“It’s okay, you’re gonna do great.” Rey assured her, sitting on a table in the dressing room despite a chair being right there. His lanky legs liked to dangle, you noticed, or sometimes perch up in high places. He reminded you of a bird sometimes, lithe and graceful and seemed to float on his feet.

“What if they don’t like me? What if something happens? What if there’s another uprising or someone wants revenge on me because of my dad-”

“The people love you, and they were going to love you even more with this announcement. Jonah’s not going to let anything happen to you, you know that.”

Your face grows warm at the mention of Jonah. He had acted distant with you since the instance of Frankie and you on the horse, and wouldn’t let you see his face when he showed up the next morning with bruises. In fact, you’d hardly seen him at all. Rey was your primary guard, and Will had talked about moving your room to one with an attached room for Reyansh so that he could stay with you at all times. It seemed everyone knew Iris and Rey were an item, or at least they understood Reyansh was not a threat. You had begged Will not to switch around rooms. The reason given was that you liked your room, but really, you were hoping that you’d be moved into a room with one of your husbands. You weren’t visited by the incubus the night they all slept in your room.

Still, Jonah looked out for you. Under your dress right now was his bulletproof vest. 

A knock on the door.

“Come in.” Iris called to the door, still working on your hair.

Will entered the room. “Are you ready, Madonna?”

Before you opened your mouth, Iris replied. “You could use her real name, you know.”

Will didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes on you. “Her name is irrelevant, her position is everything.” When he turns and sees Reyansh, Will frowns. “What are you doing in here?”

Iris was quick to answer his unvoiced question. “He only came in after she was dressed.”

He instructs Reyansh to ready the carriage. Once he was out, Will turned to you with a smile. “You look stunning, Madonna.” Your heart swells with love for your handsome husband, dressed in his loose white shirt. In your hair, small white flowers adored you, carefully placed and worked in by Iris’s hands. She was incredible, making your dress too. It was colorful, with a color representing all four of your husbands. Under it, a bulletproof vest. No one in delta outside of guardsmen was allowed guns, but he wanted to be safe.

“Wow…” Will whispers, taking you in. There was just the slightest swell of a bump, you wondered if it was just weight gained from eating more these few months. Will took you into his arms kissing you deeply and feeling your stomach. Iris mumbles close enough as you’re pulled away. He turns back to her only a moment. “Make sure everything is ready when we’re back, please.”

Iris sighs, “It always is, Mr. Miller.”

*

Jonah cocked his gun. “Same as last time, honey. Anything happens, you come with me. Those guys can handle themself. I get hurt, do not stop for me. Just run. Someone will come find you, you just keep yourself alive, got it?” His brown eyes were on you for the first time in a long time, and you relaxed. Jonah’s eyes always calm you. It’s scary, knowing you were responsible for not just you, but someone else as well. The priestess stood at the balcony to the side, your husbands flanking you. Pope to your right, Francisco to your left, Ben to his left and Will to Popes right. Just as you were married.

“Men! Women! Children of Delta!” She shouts to the crown. “I present your Gods and your Madonna!” The crowd erupts into screams, and your heart fills with love for your people. “And!” A hush falls over the ground, waiting breaths quiet as they wait for the news. “I present to you, THE SAVIOR!”

The sound was deafening, a noise that shocked you and made you stumble back. To your surprise, Pope was behind you. It was a greater surprise when he rucked up your skirt.

Immediately your hands, out of instinct, go to bring the material down but his fingers quickly dig into your skin, warning you to behave. So, you stand there, humiliated, left hand gripping Francisco’s tighter. Pope loved you, he loved you and he’d never do something just to humiliate you! How stupid of you for feeling that way. This child was long prayed for, they and your body belonged to your husbands, belonged to Delta. Pope lifted your dress over the small bump,exposing your underwear to the crown. No one outside of your husband, a few house motherns and prefects had seen you in your underwear, so this was difficult…

But then Pope kissed your neck, and the worries melted away. Will, Francisco and Ben come to you, each placing a hand on your stomach as the priestess shouts, reaffirming that the savior’s parentage was of all four, that each of your husbands fathered this baby. You were called the vessel for their seed.

Then, you were placed on a tour. On a sitting carriage with all 4 of your husbands, you were paraded around to cheering people, the faces of women from your dormitory and even your room recognizable in the crowds. One woman whose bed was next to yours shot you a deadly glare as you passed by. She was mean, frequently detailing her escapades with Ben and throwing your own lack of attention in your face, but who was laughing now? Ben choose her for a short term fuck. You had a greater purpose.

When you reached the mansion again, the gates were crowded with people reaching out for you, and although there was fear as the mass of the crowd grew, there was also power. The savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned lay in your holy womb, you were the bringer of life. YOU were the divine mother.

The gunshot brought you back to reality.

*

“WILL!” You scream as your husband is shot backwards, stumbling into his brother’s arms who he shoved out of the way of the bullet. Jonah didn’t care about Will, however. He didn’t care about Ben falling at him brothers side under the weight. He didn’t even care about Francisco scrambling to grab at Ben in the chaos, and he certainly didn’t care about Santiago dragging Frankie away.

He cared about, sobbing in his arms desperately trying to get to your fallen love. Jonah wrapped an arm around you and pulled you away into the riotous, scampering crowd. You needed to get away from the shooter. 

“NO!” You bawl loudly. Howling that he’s dying, that you need to be with him, but Jonah didn’t give a shit about that prick. He calls to Reyansh, who jumped out of the carriage the second the gun goes off. It was intentional, having Rey at the helm with him; only Rey would care enough about you out of all the guardsmen that Jonah could depend on him. Into the madness, you wouldn’t stop screaming and that rainbow dress of yours was not helping the situation. 

“Rey! The tunic!” Jonah had to spin you around to disorient you enough to make you stop fighting in your hysteria, forcing your arms up while Rey slid a long, brown standard tunic over your body, making you blend into the neutral tones on the crown. Jonah clamped down over your mouth and pulled you away as the center of the shooting grew further away, Reynash covering you both. Once at the posting for a guard, Rey held you as Jonah mounted the steed and pulled you up, riding off with you.

*

You hadn't stopped sobbing for hours. Reyansh watched in concern, wanted so badly to comfort you lest the heaving and thrashing harm the baby or yourself. Rey loved children, he couldn’t wait for a day he could take Iris away and raise a family together, to finally be with her intimately and live a life with her. 

Even if children weren’t in the picture (Iris wanted one in theory, but was hesitant to bring one into this world, understandably.) he’d cherish a life growing old with his lover. Maybe they’d some orphaned child; Iris had a soft spot for children in need. Her maternal instincts are why, despite not wanting to be friends or even really know her, Iris took care of the girl. Iris had ten years on the naive child. Continuously, she had warned him about keeping his distance, not raising suspicion that anything was happening between him and the girl, but it wasn’t his fault she was damn delightful. However, despite her obvious beauty, talents and sweet demeanor, nothing compared to Iris.

Reyansh could wax poetry about her all day long, and often did. He barely had any free time, most of the pockets of time he had, Rey liked to help Iris with her Herculean tasks, the laundry and dishes like Sisyphus and the boulder. He couldn’t take away the fact the next day would be filled with more dishes, more wall washing, more cooking, but he’d gladly sacrifice an hour of sleep so she could gain one. With him at all times, however, was his notebook and pen. As he sat at a mount or perch Rey liked to try his hand at poetry and writing. 

Sometimes it was about the beauty of nature, the flowers he planted and gardens he kept, how they gave him joy during difficult times. Sometimes it was about the complex nature of family, of Iris and Jonah, Santiago and what he knew of Beatriz, which wasn’t much, the strained love and hatred between Will and Ben, or his own desire for fatherhood. Sometimes he wrote about the 5 lovers, the girl, the men who claimed to be gods, how each individual relationship strengthened them and weakened them in their own ways and how the girl changed things for better or for worse. Mostly, he just wrote about Iris, the prettiest flower he had.

He caught a glimpse of Jonah at the window, motioning him to come out. This safe house was his idea. Apparently, he and Marcus used to escape here sometimes.

Rey tries to tell you he’s stepping outside but you aren’t listening, curled up in a ball on the bed sobbing. He makes his exit.

Once outside, Jonah offers him a sip from his flask but Rey declines.

“I was going to ask how she is, but I can hear my answer.” The sound of you wailing penetrates the walls.

“How Will?”

“He’ll live, unfortunately.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Jonah sighs, lighting a cigarette. “Wish those fuckers would just die.”

There was a long pause, Reyansh thinking hard before saying what he was thinking. He didn’t defy or talk back to Jonah, he respected him as his superior and, for all intents and purposes, his father in law. But Jonah was flawed. “You’re the one with a gun, Jonah”

Jonah inhaled a long drag before answering in a puff of smoke. “We’ve been over this.” He walked into the safe house.

They had talked, several times. Rey wanted Iris out but he didn’t have much power and knowledge. Jonah had the gun and a hundred reasons not to. There was no way to kill all 4 because everyone was armed. The community would riot. There was no where safe to go. A failed attempted would end Iris’s life. All these may be true, Jonah did have 4 decades of guard experience… but really, Rey thought he was just a coward, and maybe he cared for Pope and/or Francisco more than he’d like to admit. He’d been with those two since infancy, helped raise them, been a father figure most of their lives… it was understandable.

When he walked into the house, it was to crying but this time, relieved. He must have told her Will would be okay. You had your arms wrapped around his neck and he held you close to him, rubbing your back.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, everyone’s gonna be just fine.”

*

Ben was changing Will’s bandages when you walked in and it made you nauseous to see the blood. Jonah said the bullet went straight through, that he’d be okay he just needed to rest, but the sight was disturbing.

Will groans. “Baby, don’t want you seeing me like this.”

Benny flicks his brothers arm. “Let her be, she was worried about you.”

The older Miller grumbled, but allowed you to kneel his side. He thumbed away a tear, “Don’t cry for me, beautiful girl.”

“What happened?” You sniffle, looking between Benny and Will.

“A girl from the dorms, she took the gun off a guard and tried to shoot-”

Ben interrupted. “You, Madonna.” He looked to his brother. “Melody, your old roommate, she tried to shoot you out of jealousy, she wanted to be with me. Will pushed you aside, took the bullet.”

You blink at that. Melondy wanted to shoot you? She wanted you dead? And Will. was he even standing by you? “But… I don’t remember being pushed.”

“Oh sweet girl…” Will cood. “Do you not remember? Poor thing, it was probably so traumatic-”

“No, I remember-”

“Your brain probably blocked a lot of it out, repressed it to protect you.”

Yeah, yeah that made sense. Memory was fragile. Will winced and Ben finished cleaning him and you took his hand as a new packing kit was applied. “Thank you for saving me…” You kiss his hand, feeling the rough knuckles warm skin. “For saving our baby…”

You fell asleep beside him that night, laying on his chest. He was warm, firm, inviting and protective. Nothing mattered more than the fact your husbands and your baby were safe.

Melody was dead. After the first shot missed, she approached where the four men had gathered intent on finding you, but Ben said Pope shot her square in the forehead, that he protected you while Jonah and Reyansh took you to safety. Ben said he had stood in front of his brothers and you, fearless, brave and bold. Pope loved his people, but he loved you most of all.

When you awoke, it was lae evening and although you wanted to go back to sleep, after some tossing and turning you realized you could. Not wanting to wake Will, you check his pulse and breathing, both strong and head out of the room to see if anyone is up. You know they dont like you wandering around the mansion without protection but you weren’t a child.

After Jonah and Rey had taken you back home, you were desperate to see William, but Pope demanded your presence with Francisco, both holding you tightly and checking you over again and again, tell you how precious you were, how loved. Pope knelt in front of you, hands on your belly, kissing it. You were thankful to have such loving and protective husbands. Despite the horrors of today, you felt blessed beyond measure 

You came to the kitchen first seeing a light on. Sometimes Benny liked late night snacks. Instead, you see Iris and Reyansh slow dancing in the kitchen. Iris was actually smiling. No doubt Rey was fearful of his own women’s safety being forced in the cabin with you for so long after a riot broke out right outside where she was. Silent, you step away from the cute lovers and allow them their time. Rey helped save your life today, you needed to thank him, and thank Iris for all she did for your family, you were lucky to have them both.

You try to see if Pope is awake next. When you approach his room, the grunting sounds make you stop, peaking through the slightly cracked door. Pope was on top of Francisco, fucking into his ass with his legs bent up into a press. It was a position he used on you many a time. Francisco was a puddle beneath him, his curls stuck to the sweat on his head. He looked incredible. The way Pope kissed him so deep… You couldn’t help feeling warm inside. How lucky you were that your husbands loved each other so much.

Ben was found in the gym. For a moment, you merely watch him. Shirtless in his red shorts and throwing punches at a punching bag. He probably had so much energy in him after everything today, watching his brother bleeding in his arms. She knew they didn’t always get along, Ben holding anger for Will so often and over what, you couldn’t yet discern. Maybe this tragedy would bring them back together. You admire his body, carved out and chiseled in perfect form. 

You loved the bodies of all your husbands, in each and every different.

Will was largess; tall, muscular, wide everywhere. Everywhere. His body consumed you just as yours consumed him; he was like a shield, metaphorically and now literally.

Santiago was softer. A small belly that was only noticeable when he was bent over, plush though and a moon shaped ass. He was all curves, from his nose down to his calved you had massaged so ardently.

If Pope was soft, Francisco was a pillow. Heavy weight surrounded him, the broad expanse of his shoulders to the fat at his waist and you just wanted to bury your face into it, you want to bite, nibble, and worship the pudge that spilled over his pants.

Ben was lean, the tallest of them and slim hips under rippling muscles. Golden God, beholden before you and it was as if his glory radiated off him. Despite the strength he was light on his feat. He could have been a boxer in another life.

“How are you feeling?” His deep voice breaks the tranfiction of the way his body moved, stilling the punching bag.

“I’m good, just woke from a nap with Will.”

Still looking away, Ben nodded. His mood matched the storm clouds out the window. After wiping his face, Benny chugged water and then finally made his way over to you in long, quick strides. His eyes flashed with the lightning outside.

*

Pope fucked Frankie with a fury he couldn’t recall in years. Frankie had defined him, ignoring his orders to leave but no, he wanted to stay with Ben. 

“You don’t think I wanted Ben and Will safe too?” He growled in his lovers ear. 

“I know!”

“You’re more important!”

He almost lost Will, Ben, the savior, and most importantly Frankie today. The girl would pay, fuck she’d pay. He couldn’t do anything Madonna might see, she thinks she’s dead already… no, a gunshot was to quick for someone trying to harm his family, but he’d make her suffer.

His anger toward Francisco wouldn't be helped when today, when he went to make love to Frankie, he found him in Ben's arms, cumming on his hand.

*

Ben had you pinned against the wall, fucking into you with your legs hitched around his narrow hips. The wind outside picked up speed, displaying his anger, his frustration, his love and his lust. You let him take you, fucking into your pregnant womb with his face tucked in your neck. You felt as if you were floating, like you were the center of the world right now. The sun God orbited you. Someone had tried to take you from him, a women he used to claim as his own but she had been cast aside for a reason. In her jealousy, she though she could regain her place at his side but that was foolish. Ben would never have loved her the way he loved you, the way he loved his husbands. Will, Francisco and Pope could never love her. 

She was not the Madonna.

She could never carry the savior.

She could only ever have a bastard.

*

“Gonna fill you up, Frank.” Pope grunted, breath hot against Francisco's cheek, mouth to mouth, lips to lips. “Gonna fill up this tight little hole of yours until you’re pregnant with my baby, you got that?”

Frank’s eyes went wide. “Santi, wha-” But he stopped when Santiago slapped him. This shocked Frankie, Santi didn’t slap him, he didn’t hurt him like that…

“Take it!” Santiago screams, tears of anger blurring his eyes. He chose Ben over him. He’d rather stay in danger with Ben than safety with him. “Your mine, under stand?!” When Frankie didn’t answer right away, Pope gripped his jaw and felt a warm tear fall down his cheek. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

*

Long fingers gripping your asscheeks, digging into the sensitive skin.

Firm abs rubbing against your body.

Hips stimulating your clit.

A finger fucking into your asshole. 

Everything was better than your wildest dreams. No incubus, a child on the way, friends and family. This was a life your father tried to take from you, but you were like gold that’s tested in fire.

Ben came inside when the thunder cracked, lightning still flashing and illuminating him with light. He muttered Francisco’s name.

*

“YES!” Francisco shouted in pain, face grimacing. “I’m yours! I’m yours Santi, fill me up! Make me-” He swallowed, tears forming at his long lashes. He gritted his teeth. “Make me p-pregnant!”  Francisco was saying anything that'd make Santi stuff, just to make him cum and end this. He just wanted it over. All of it. He didn't understand why he wasn't allow to be happy, to feel safe, to have peace. Instead he had to submit to Santi's whims just like Beatriz.

Santiago tucked his face into his lovedrsneck, biting him as he came inside. Whimpering, tears streaming wildly down his face, Santiago bit into Frankie’s tender flesh: neck, then shoulder, till finally he just continuously bit into the skin on his large arm, drawing the blood and bruising the skin. It hurt like hell, Frankie's head thrashing back and forth on the pillow trying to take the pain and bare it. Santiago's tears mixed with blood as he finished cumming, thrusts slowing into a lul.

Francisco didn’t know where his body ended and Santi’s began.

He wanted Ben, to be held and protected by him. To be touched gently, with love. To be not possessed but show off so that he knew Ben was proud of him, proud of what they had, not what the fuck Santigo was doing to him. He wanted Madonna with her sweet kisses and open adoration. He wanted Will with his healing nature, tender hands on his arching, bleeding arm. He wanted anything but Santi’s touch right now.

Santiago curled behind Francisco. His hand rested on Frankie’s stomach.

***********

This disturbed me writing the end asdfghjkl

Madonna crying Reminds me of tww bonus chapter where little one thinks joel is dead and is just ugly sobbing

Madonna has... a lot to process today, and absolutly no therapy and no one she can be honest with about what she's witnessing.

I hope you all enjoyed... or .... something....???

Thoughts on Santis episode, Benny having a fit because he wanted Frankie but had to take madonna, will being shot, madonna is pregant, rey's thoughts!!!!! Jonah protecting madonna, etc.

UUUHHHHH poll?

love you all dearly <3 I hope to get at least one more tf fic for the triple frontier anniverary evnt before the end, and maybe something else like a TWW bonus chapter i've been wanting, but no gurantees. next week is spring break and i have 10k worth of commissions to write so il be busy! I wanna get the last chapter of my handmaids tale au out though, end that baby <3

also if you havn't yet, consider following me on my main @romanarose because im like 20 followers away from 2k and once i do, ill be open to writing stuff for a celebration!

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

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[hobiebrownismygod]

Let's talk about Desi representation again!!

I don't talk about this stuff often but when I do, I have some strong ass opinions

and yes I'm gonna be talking about none other than Pavitr Prabhakar at the end cuz he's just special to me &lt;3

Hollywood is lagging behind on Desi representation

You'd think one of the biggest film industries in the world would be able to represent us properly, considering the fact that we make up the largest group of South-Asian Americans and the second largest group of Asian-Americans in the US, but instead-

Western Television forces Indians to conform to harmful stereotypes

Some of the most popular Desi characters on screen are Raj Koothrappali from the Big Bang Theory, Devi Vishwakumar from Never Have I Ever and Kelly Kapoor from the Office.

Indian men are almost always portrayed as robotics engineers and computer whizzes, but with terrible social intellect, making them seem like awkward nerds.

Indian women are almost always portrayed as "whitewashed", or wanting to appear more western, with zero understanding of their own culture or language along with an unrelenting need for attention from white friends/colleagues.

These are both based on stereotypes that Indian culture is "toxic" and "too traditional" and that Indians are only interested in studies.

Most Desi characters in western media have stories that are solely based around their ethnicity and/or racial stereotypes.

British television actually showcases a lot more representation than Hollywood does

I was watching Polite Society, a movie starring two Pakistani characters as the main leads, and there was a dance scene where both the leads are wearing traditional desi attire. My mom turned over, looked at me, and asked, "Is this Hollywood? It can't be."

And she was right. It's a British movie with British-Pakistani actors.

The reason she didn't believe that it could've been Hollywood was because the dresses the two leads were wearing were traditional and beautiful and the song playing in the background was authentic Hindi music, not some random westernized DJ version of it.

A Hollywood movie would've never dressed up their Desi actors in actually flattering attire (*cough cough the Patel twins from Harry Potter) or have used real, popular Desi music in the background.

You see my point?

It is so uncommon to see well-thought-out Desi representation in TV nowadays, where to see real diversity we have to watch movies made by the same country that colonized us.

Ironic.

British movies/shows with desi leads have far better South Asian representation than anything I've seen in Hollywood recently.

The Hollywood movies starring Indian leads, like Slumdog Millionaire or Bend it like Beckham were filmed in the UK, and because they were filmed in the UK, they had fantastic South Asian representation.

Not only does Hollywood refuse to create shows and movies about real problems that South Asians face, but they also don't cast South Asian actors in good roles.

When's the last time you saw a South Asian actor playing a character that wasn't a walking stereotype? When's the last time you saw a South Asian actor playing a character that was a genuine part of the story rather than just comedic relief or a random smart kid in the classroom?

Not often, right?

Me, personally, I didn't grow up with a lot of South Asian characters or actors in shows/movies that I watched. In fact, every time someone even close to my skin color showed up on TV, I was on the edge of my seat because it was just so rare to see it.

This is why representation matters.

You've heard about all the young girls with braids being so excited when the new little mermaid with Halle Bailey came out. Well, us desi kids wanted that too.

I wanted to see a Telugu speaking girl with wavy hair and dark skin who would wear traditional clothing to Desi get-togethers and parties, go to the temple with her family, eat vegetarian Indian meals, etc...

I wanted to see a character who was a representation of me and my experiences as an Indian-American. I wanted to see a character that was at least a representation of Indians or just South Asians in general.

Instead, we were given characters that ridiculed their own culture, were extreme stereotypes and furthered the existence of casual racism in western society today. So many Desi kids experience small acts of racism on a daily basis because people have been so desensitized to the existence of these stereotypes.

Telling South Asians that their culture is a joke and feeding non-asian children media which pokes fun at other cultures is harmful, not only to us South Asians but also communities that could end up being targeted next.

Pavitr Prabhakar; Representation Matters

If you've been following me or if we're mutuals, you probably know I have a tiny obsession with Pavitr Prabhakar. But why?

Because of all the reasons I just listed.

There are few South Asian characters us Desis can look up to these days, and Pavitr Prabhakar is one of the maybe two or three characters who have great writing, magnificent representation, and overall a fun vibe.

He's likable, funny, smart and best of all, unapologetically Desi.

He's just like all the other side characters, with a little bit of his own culture mixed in. He's not being shoved down our throats to further an agenda about fake diversity, he's not a walking stereotype and best of all, he was designed by Indian creators.

He's refreshing and exciting to follow in a world full of a demand for half-hearted representations and the people who created him were obviously putting their hearts and souls into it.

He's awoken a love for Indian culture amongst, not only Desi children themselves but also among westerners who, prior to this, had thought of India as a "3rd world" country, because that's the agenda that Hollywood pushes onto many South Asian countries today.

WE LOVE PAVITR PRABHAKAR!!

This was kinda all over the place but I just had to get this off my chest &lt;3

Sources:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2021/06/10/discrimination-against-indian-americans-happens-more-than-you-might-think/

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hi India. I feel really bad for asking this but I wondered if there is an explanation. I always see Larries say 'anyone but Louis' because if Harry is being romantically linked to men then Louis is always excluded when it's very obvious that something went on between Harry and Louis during 1D. Whether it's Harries or the odd time the media they never bring up Louis. So I always see this 'anyone but Louis'. But I noticed that Larries won't accept Harry with any man but Louis. They would prefer him to be straight than with a man who isn't Louis. Isn't this a similar thing? Anyone but Louis vs no one but Louis. Or am I missing a point? Thanks!

Um, it’s very late where I am, so I’m gonna try and be as coherent as possible.

Personally, I believe Harry and Louis are together, and have been for the last 13 years, and the reason I believe Harry has been with “no one but Louis” as you put it, is absolutely not because I would “rather Harry be straight than be with someone else”. It’s literally because I’ve never seen Harry (or Louis) look at anyone else the way they look at each other.

I say this, time and again: to me Larry isn’t a ship. Larry is not me playing with two dolls and making them kiss each other. Neither part of the couple is “swappable” with any other “character” no matter whether man or woman, no matter what level of attractiveness or wealth or fame, no matter how many pap pics are taken of them walking side by side shirtless and in silence or fake kissing next to a car or dancing on a yacht, because none of those things equate to being in love.

What convinced me of Larry isn’t the amount of time they spent together, or how handsome they both are, or what a cute couple they make (even though they are hella cute). It’s literally everything else. It’s their body language around each other, it’s Harry’s stupid little nose scrunch and how it’s disappeared now that they’re never seen together, it’s the way they always seem to reference the same documentaries and albums, is how they dance their little pointy-pointy victory dance that I’ve never seen anyone else do, its how they speak of England as home and LA as work, its the fact that their deep-seated values are so aligned, it’s the entire discography of songs that tell two perspectives of the same love story, it’s the way they describe success with insanely similar verbiage that you can imagine them discussing it laying next to each other in bed…

For me, it’s Harry for Louis and Louis for Harry not because I won’t accept anything else. It’s because I’ve never seen anyone else even come close to being on the receiving end of the way they look at each other. If I see either of them acting that way towards someone else, I’ll consider changing my mind.

I think what people don’t get is that this isn’t really a point of pride for me. I don’t ‘get anything’ by believing in Larry (in fact, there are many times I wish I could spare myself the heartbreak of knowing so much about celeb closeting and just forget about it) or by convincing other people to believe in them. I literally just believe it. And maybe one day there will be enough evidence to change my mind, and then I won’t believe it. It’s just… today’s not that day. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[quibbs]

if its ok to ask do you have any recommendations, of like, songs, movies, tv shows, books, comics, webcomics,,,, like. literally anything of the sort. and similarly, if its ok to ask, what inspired soil that binds us?

ok sorry this took me so long to answer! i just kept thinking about it instead of writing about it. a problem that is common for me, lol. anyway i think pieces of media that tend to have the strongest effect on me tend to be bittersweer, have a particular focus on interconnectivity between everyone involved, and are character focused/character dynamic focused. that's what tends to wring the most inspiration and joy out of me. i also really love pieces of media that are bad but are made with so much sincerity and passion that it does NOT matter to me how bad it is- i also find those pieces of art UNFATHOMBLY inspiring.

so: soil that binds us i think spiritually had 4 influences that shines above the rest.

-NARUTO [sincere, long form, teen-oriented, shonen energy, the power of love and friendship will save us, action scenes and BLOOD, the fun matters most for a lot of it],

-HOMESTUCK [exceedingly complicated, irreverent, balancing vulnerable and invulnerable in a clinically insane way, emphasis on the protagonists psyche, interconnectivity as a priority, kind of expecting you to get lost along the way, the fun matters most]

-THE LAST OF US [a game that inspires literally everything I will ever do forever, inspired me to be more vulnerable, character driven, post-apocalyptic, finding light and tenderness whilst trapped in HELL through your relationships with others, excels in the feeling of bittersweet, etc]

-anddd DRAGON AGE [another game that literally inspires everything i do, interconnectivity, character focused/character dynamic focused, sincere, good balance of gritty and silly, the first thing i turn to to analyze characters for because none of those characters have ever left my head after 15 years .]

those are my biggest media inspirations for soil that binds us but, especially as a teenager, music shaped what directions i took the characters like playdough. a lot of what defined my characters came from this playlist as i was writing them. i always started with the feeling first (which songs are good at) and then expounded upon the feeling i found in the song in written form. highly reccomend it!!! music is so inspiring and i always turn to it when i'm stuck.

as for tv shows/movies- despite the fact that he is (rightfully) extremely clowned on now, a lot of joss whedon works shaped my skull. buffy the vampire slayer and it's less good spin-off show angel DO live in my brain forever and in a special little hall of it's own. i'm pretty sure it inspired a lot of dragon age, too, so there you go.

i wish i had more comics/books to recommend you, but i actually don't read a lot of them these days!!! which is ironic, i know. i just keep losing time. I think maybe the closest written thing i can think of that is similar to my comic is the locked tomb trilogy- and that was a series that was ALSO heavily inspired by homestuck. same with undertale. so maybe look out for anything homestuck seems to have inadvertently given birth to!! i wish you luck on your hunt for comics that scratch the itch for you.... i know they're out there, and if they're not, give it a few years haha. homestucks reach is very far. GOOD LUCK!

[stupid-fucking-storm]

Watched Cinderella’s Castle and had a very underwhelming experience. Review and LONGGG rant under the cut.

Minor spoilers.

First of all, I thought the pacing was really, really bad. I also thought the tone of the story was really weird??

Obviously it’s Starkid, they love putting things in odd tones, but there was not one song or moment that really made me feel anything for these characters. In fact, the most I felt for any of them was Lauren’s throwaway cousin character, who was killed pretty much immediately.

This was not at all the fault of the performers, who were doing The Most with the script they were given. Performance-wise, in fact, it was very good. Aside from Jeff Blim, who honestly made me completely dislike him due to this show. I’m sure he’s a fine guy, but he constantly writes music for his falsetto which he seems very proud of but is …never… on pitch. I’ve grown increasingly bored with his score and lyric writing through Nightmare Time and this show was the embodiment of that.

The absolute worst part of the show was the incessant background music—something they carried over from Nightmare Time as if we enjoyed that. I certainly didn’t, it made Nightmare Time a tough watch for me. Plunky little notes like synth improv, absolutely separate in tone from the dialogue, plague every scene. This is especially bad in the second act to the point that I actively stopped trying to understand or care about the scene because the background music was suggesting that I shouldn’t. Keep in mind this was during what I think was an important exchange between Bryce and Curt’s characters. Honestly, I could not tell you. I don’t watch musicals with subtitles on so I can be surprised by dialogue and make it more akin to watching the performance live. This was a mistake. This was a long stretch of dialogue, too, completely nullified by the dumb background music. I mean, think Nightmare Time improv synth but with none of the recognizable motifs. That’s what it was. For almost the entire show.

As I mentioned, the music was again by Jeff Blim. I was worried when this was announced because of how boring, same, and uninspired his stuff has become, but I wanted to give it a chance. When it was announced as a pop rock musical, I got more pessimistic. I was unfortunately correct.

There are about 2 songs that I enjoyed, and one that was very good for the first 15ish seconds. Almost every song’s tone was completely wrong for the scene/what they were conveying. And not in a fun, we’re-doing-something-unconventional way, which Starkid has done really well in the past.

Angela fucking killed as the stepmother, but her singing range is very limited. Everyone knows this and that’s fine!! I’m begging Jeff to stop writing music for her that’s outside of her range. It’s not like they didn’t know who they would cast. I think it’s been stated that Starkid still have to audition for their roles, but with such a small cast I’m sure Nick/Jeff/Matt have an idea when they’re writing.

Mariah and Lauren did great performances as the stepsisters. I wasn’t expecting Lauren’s elf voice and thought that was a little off the mark. She still slayed, it’s Lauren.

The problem is, these characters had so little depth that none of them really had an arc at all. There was not much for the actors to do or build on to make me care about them. Let me be crystal clear: I LOVE STARKID. Fucking love it. Even I couldn’t give a fuck about anyone’s character in this show but Lauren’s throwaway character and Angela’s villain—and probably mostly because I’ve grown very fond of Angela’s acting and performance recently on Smosh.

I’m not saying anyone did a bad job. They did their best with what they had. My issue is entirely with the writing, the music writing particularly, and the pacing, which was god-awful.

Now, the puppets.

This was the part of the show I was most excited for. Starkid hasn’t done puppets for a while! And I loved the Starship puppets! Horror/weird looking puppets?? Sign me up!

Unfortunately, this also left a lot to be desired. I enjoyed the puppet for Crumb and the frog, and Joey is an especially EXCELLENT puppet actor. But the troll puppets were really lack-luster. Seeing the actresses so clearly beneath them, still in their elegant dresses when they were supposed to be fully these ugly monsters, was very immersion-breaking. Even attaching a dark cloth to them to hide their bodies and a screen over their faces would have done A LOT. This was really disappointing. So was the weird voice effect on Angela’s troll. Only because she was already doing a voice, and it was delayed just long enough for it to be jarring and disrupt my ability to follow what she was saying. (Fyi, I do not have any sort of processing disability or disorder.) Still, her performance was really great and I’m happy to see her in a main role.

I didn’t find James’ character charming or funny, which may be an acting thing or may be a writing thing, I’m not sure. I’ve never been a huge fan of his, and I found his interpretation of the character to be pretty bland and literal. I would have liked to see some hints of a real person under all the crude jokes the prince makes—but this is likely due to writing issues/tone issues.

Curt was great, there was not a lot for him to do. Kim SLAYYYYYYYED her song and it was the only one I really liked. But she did not act in this show and was really underutilized, as probably the most vocally talented person in the cast. JLB was not in this show, which I didn’t realize and was saddened by. I think she would have brought a great energy to it. Jon’s performance was sweet and he was obviously having a good time. Let the man sing more often. Bryce slayyyed the vocals but the acting was ehhh. Again, not a lot of depth. Her whole thing felt really rushed due to writing and pacing. The fact that I can’t remember if anyone else was even in this, without looking, is a little sad.

Overall I’m very disappointed. The tone, pacing, and background score were quite bad. The set design, music, and characterization was bland. The costume design was good—I found myself commenting on the outfits frequently. Some of the puppets were good, others confusing. After watching it, I’m really, really not excited about “The Lands That Are” and am terrified for another Hatchetfield wearing out its welcome.

In conclusion: To watch this for $15 is fine but I’m certainly glad I did not fly to see this in person, which I had considered doing. I will always support Starkid, but if they keep hiring Jeff for the music, I am going to continue the decline in passion I have for it, which started when Nightmare Time did. I’m hoping that they’re able to mix the background music to non-existent or extremely quiet in the YouTube version after enough feedback, and that the next musical is more inspired and—GOD—not fucking pop rock again.

[sometipsygnostalgic]

We've been watching star wars, lots of it.

The other day we were discussing music. How the original trilogy is full of bombastic, magnificient tracks, and the prequels have these smashing epics, but the sequels have opted for more ambience, and there are only two leitmotifs to speak of, one only nine notes long (Kylo Ren).

See, I'm not alien to the creation of leitmotif without a whole song to go with it. This is how Marvel's been doing it for a little while now (since they were annihilated by a youtuber 8 years ago for their bad music apparently).

It's also how She-ra does it. This seems to be the compromise between the "in the background" scoring modern directors ask for and the "in your face" scoring musicians want to perform.

But here are a few differences even in that (rather bland) category of music:

She-ra is constantly taking advantage of its leitmotifs. That 11 note She-ra motif? You are damn aware when it's in your face, and it always shows up when She-ra is doing something magic.

Entrapta's theme is 7 to 14 notes long and it plays a lot, whenever she's doing something, whenever Hordak is thinking of her. Can be silly, loud, or very quiet depending on the mood of the scene.

Catra has a theme for when she's being evil. It is in fact She-ra's theme played in a different key. It sounds completely different so it's not obvious, which is brilliant in my opinion.

Hordak and Horde Prime... don't have a theme, but they have a specific chord that plays when they're on screen. Effective if forgettable.

Best Friend Squad has a theme. I associate it with Glimmer because it's very sparkly and used in action scenes. It repeats enough that I'd recognise it if I heard it.

And finally that complete banger of an opening, and all those whole, complete soundtracks you get in the end credits of some episodes (such as Light Hope). Those pieces of music in particular are memorable despite not being leitmotifs (mostly).

The star wars themes, you have Rey's theme which to be fair is great, and Kylo Ren's theme which only exists as 7 evil notes. You don't get all those themes from OT and Prequels which went so hard. You get a score which sounds like Star Wars Music, but none of the tracks stand out whatsoever. And none of the other characters seem to have any memorable music, none of the scenes, the intro music is the same as it's ever been. The trailer music was always remixed stuff from the Original Trilogy, never anything new.

I wonder what happened. It's possible Disney rejected any better compositions from Williams. It's possible that he was phoning it in at this point because he was called back into star wars yet again. It's possible the source material was not all that inspiring? Who knows. But while the sequels have John Williams and a bunch of OT musical references, they don't seem to have a Star Wars score.

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

literally so done with rhaegar antis at this point. we know practically nothing about this character besides all the good things other characters say about him and the fact that robert baratheon hates him and says things about rhaegar that ned disagrees with. and robert baratheon is a pos so being hated by him only does favors for rhaegar’s character imo.

but somehow all these characters who think well of rhaegar are just lying. even though almost all of the characters who have spoken/thought well of rhaegar come from different families and have different allegiances. make it make sense. explain it to me like i’m five. what do jamie and ned have to gain by thinking positively about rhaegar? what about jorah? and barristan?

seriously. stop with the “prophecy obsessed freak” and the “rhaegar was mad” bs. none of this is supported in the books.

for 1) the prophecy is real! this is a fantasy series! and it’s very likely that jon snow (his likely son) is one of the azor ahai/prince that was promised figures! the other completely certain azor ahai figure is his own sister! so yes this prophecy seems to be centered around rhaegar’s family.

2) rhaegar being “mad” is not supported whatsoever. prophecies and magic are very real in asoiaf. so believing/trying to figure out prophecies is not an act of a madman. if anything, we should praise rhaegar for having the foresight to be actively concerned about this world ending threat! he was right. and one mention, if not the first mention, of the song of ice and fire comes from a vision in the house of the undying… from rhaegar. please remember what the title of this series is…

now, it is fair to criticize rhaegar for how he treated elia at the tourney at harrenhall. he was wrong there and that was a terrible thing to do to elia. however, saying that rhaegar was awful to elia throughout their whole marriage is not supported. and saying that rhaegar was awful to his children is not supported at all.

also, getting angry at a fictional character for needing a son to secure the succession to the throne is hilarious, especially since it was necessary for not just rhaegar, but also for elia to secure their own positions at court. they both needed a male heir, but elia needed to have a son more than rhaegar to secure her position. so why are people so mad that rhaegar and elia had aegon? andal tradition says that a son comes before a daughter and a daughter before an uncle… but aerys had viserys to threaten rhaegar with because aerys was king and had the power to change the succession. having aegon was very important for both rhaegar and elias futures and protected rhaenys position as well. just look at what happened to alys karstark when all of her male brothers were gone. she was almost usurped by her uncle. do you really think aerys would let the throne pass to a girl? aerys??

anyways, we don’t know enough about rhaegar and elias relationship to actually make any concrete statements about them, but, from danys house of the undying vision of rhaegar and (likely) elia, their relationship seemed fine and they seemed open with each other. not every marriage of duty ends in nedcat and five kids, but their marriage was clearly far from the robert and cersei nightmare.

another thing rhaegar antis love to harp about is how he is a pedophile. i’m literally so sick of it. rhaegar, someone who seemingly struggled with some form of depression, finally found some joy outside of a marriage of duty. the author himself called rhaegar a love struck prince. ned never thinks ill of rhaegar, even though if the stories robert baratheon would have us believe were true then ned would be the first character who thinks rhaegar is some sort of monster. but ned doesn’t. back to the pedo argument… anyways i have issues with the age gap as well. but i know where to lay my criticism. with george. he’s weird about ages and it pisses me off. however, i won’t let this change the way i see a character, especially since westeros doesn’t have any age of consent laws.

god just criticize george already.

but to be clear, rhaegar, a tragic character who died trying to protect his family, who’s daughter hid underneath his bed for protection, is not some monster. he was born in grief, lived in grief, found some joy, and died whispering the name of the woman he loved. that’s sad. and it’s horrible that he’s blamed for his family’s deaths even though he fought and died trying to protect them. and then robert baratheon sat on his throne and drunk and whored the realm into debt. thank you mr. boar. and good riddance. cersei slayed with this one.

now if you want to blame someone for the war and what came after, then blame aerys for his cruelty. blame brandon for his foolishness. blame robert for his warmongering. blame tywin for his monstrous actions. blame gregor and amory for their terrible violence.

stop blaming the guy who died trying to protect his loved ones.

and tbh, we literally have so little knowledge of what happened before the rebellion and after harrenhall. we just don’t know what happened between rhaegar and lyanna besides what george has told us and whatever small scraps we get in the book. we don’t know if it was a rash decision or if there was some plan in place when rhaegar and lyanna ran off. we just don’t know.

so please stop treating your headcanons like canon facts. especially when your headcanon isn’t supported anywhere in the books! it’s so tiring to see! i get it! you hate this character! whatever! but stop acting like what you’re saying is canon!

rhaegar is simply a ghost haunting the narrative. but his legacy lives on in dany and (likely) jon. and both of them are saviors fighting the good fight. and based on the descriptions we have of rhaegar, i can say that he’s likely very proud of his sister and son.