#{ VERY FUN OPPOSING THOUGHT PROCESSES
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[ Wish ] “ Ah, Nanna, was it? It's been quite some time, ” Pelleas calls out to the princess. “ I remember last time we met, it was at the Ethereal Ball too. Though obviously, it was under very different circumstances... ”
Despite this, the situation that brings the two together carried a similar connotation. This year, countless stars streak across the sky— the open invitation to make a wish.
“ Last time, you gave me your wish, saying I was in need of one. Do you still forfeit your wish this year? ”
He says it with a bit of challenge, but in contrast to that, he takes one of his white feathers and holds it out to her in offering.
“ A wish is a thing that might need wings to sprout. Or perhaps I made that up to justify giving you my brooch decoration in return for your flower last year. Who could really say...?”
"My! Sir Pelleas, it has been quite some time! Your furred cape is so elegant, I must say." He was and always had been a fascinating one. There's a touch of something more, like a tartness to an Albinean fruit that comes after its sweet pang. She didn't quite know where to place it, but she appreciated his line of thought whenever it was offered to her. "Circumstances change, but we are the overlap, are we not?"
There are enough wishes for everyone this year, streaks of stars blazing through the velvet expanses of the skies. He asked if she was to forfeit her wish, as though her precious action was a repeated measure, a similar verse. It's a curious turn of phrase, one of which nearly sounded like a challenge, if her ears did not mistake it. Her teeth are bared—a boyish grin in place of her usual gentle demeanor. "I am a young woman who finds great joy in giving. Be it last year or this year, only two factors remain the same. You and I." She unfastened a black feather from the blooming ribbon that kept her hair up.
"To you it may be forfeiting, or relinquishing a right to what is mine. But to me, it is a symbol of prosperity. A motion to start a relationship, and to preserve its fresh roots. This year and the last, I will gift you a wish--"
She exchanged his white feather for her black one, though not before clasping his hands very lightly between both her own. Much like holding a bird that has looked down the shaft of an arrow and survived.
"Knowing you would come to me again one day. Just like today."
Her demeanor softened like a brush of feathers running over a chalk drawing, as she let out a quiet laugh. Tilting her head to the side, as her bangs curtained over one ear, she grinned from ear to ear.
"I am very glad to see you, Sir Pelleas. My wish is yours. From this year onto the next."
#{ your son may have every disease but my daughter frankly likes to take a challenge by the hands and roll with it#{ VERY FUN OPPOSING THOUGHT PROCESSES#pirrhyc#toaball2024
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A fun way imo to develop characters is to look at them and ask, "what does this imply?" This unfortunately only works if you already have a character concept in mind, but it's always been useful for me when I need to create some interiority for a character who feels a little flat.
As previously stated, literally all you're doing is looking at a character and performing a rudimentary analysis of them based on what you've already developed. A good example of this is my character Mordred, who early on in his development was conceived of as a sickly looking teenager wearing a full suit and bowtie. This is because I thought there was a lot of potential in this image. "What kind of teenager goes to school everyday wearing a full suit and bowtie?" Probably a kid who takes himself very seriously and has some interest in looking "polished" -- perhaps he even views himself above his peers for how he dresses. And, how might this visual extend to other aspects of him? Is he always someone who goes against the grain? Does he actually have an interest in men's wear, or is this a symbolic image for how he stands against his peers? I bet he has strong opinions on society. Did he buy the suit himself, or did his mom buy it, because one or the other also implies some stuff about the nature of their relationship, if his mother is supportive of his oddness or not, etc. etc. etc. A lot of stuff that you can find out, just from looking at one small aspect of a character! The same kind of process can spiral from anything - a character's actions, a character's thoughts, their beliefs, a line they say, a face they make, a hobby they have... all can be a good starting point for developing them further and figuring out more about them.
In a similar vein, I know that people recommend filling out character charts and stuff, but usually I find it more useful to think of a character in terms of a "scenario" or a "description" than in terms of their traits. "This character is smart" vs. "This characters complains to the teacher when the test has a question that isn't in the book" ; "This person is stubborn" vs. "This is the kind of person who'd rather starve than order food if they said they weren't hungry." Figuring out a character through something like this gives me a specific image of how they might act in a story as opposed to more broadly-described traits. Being as I tend to think up characters with story ideas and scenarios, it's much more helpful for me! "Ah, but how do you do this, Gert?" Easy: you stare at a wall for multiple hours until you have a revelation about a character. This is surely what everyone is capable of [nodding sagely]
#wow im rereading this and this advice is really bad. anyway [posts]#i also generally think of characters in terms of their role in a story/develop them in conjunction with a plot#which makes like 90% of online character development advice worthless to me :(
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Bzzzzt.
"Hey," I said, a little hesitantly. "I don't want to pry or anything, but is something going on? Your phone has been going off all evening."
"Hmm?" My girlfriend glanced up absentmindedly. "No, it's just that butch I met last week. You remember me telling you about her, right?"
I nodded, but didn't say anything. I was a little jealous, I could admit. Things hadn't been the best between us, lately. I wasn't really feeling up to topping, and she had never really liked taking the lead, so we had stalled out a bit. I trusted her, of course, but I felt bad for not being the hard domme that she sometimes wanted me to be.
Bzzzzt.
She smiled at her phone again, then placed it face down on her desk and turned fully to me.
"Babe, I was thinking." She started, "Can I tie you up? Like, now?"
I blinked. "Are you sure? You almost never-"
"Yes." She cut me off, her gaze weirdly intense.
"Should I go shower and shave? It's been-"
She shook her head. "Just go lie on the bed while I grab the ropes and stuff?"
I gave her a look of surprise. "And stuff? Someone's in the mood."
She glared at me. I laughed and walked over to the other room, taking off my shirt and bra and tossing them over to the dresser.
I shimmied out of my pants and hopped onto the bed, taking the moment to stretch out my arms and legs.
I had barely waited long enough to feel cold when my girlfriend bustled in, her arms filled with restraints of black faux-leather and fuzz.
"Lie back," She commanded.
"Puppy," I said, and saw her visibly shiver in pleasure. "I don't want you to force yourself. What's going on?"
She shook her head and grabbed my wrist, wrapping a cuff around it and pushing it down. She clipped it to the bedpost, then repeated the process with the other arm.
I shrugged, as much as I was able. "I trust you," I told her, as much to mask my nervousness as to reassure her.
"Ugh," she said, then grabbed my jaw and gently pushed the ball gag into my mouth, my lips parting without any conscious input on my part. "Just be quiet."
The blindfold was next, and everything went dark. I felt her hand trail down my body, caressing my tits and lingering on the nipple for half a moment before twisting sharply. I gasped, and the pain stopped immediately.
I tensed, expecting another pinch, but there was nothing but the sound of footsteps. I tried to frown around the gag.
A gust of wind from the fan made me shiver, reminding me that I was very much naked and exposed.
I heard the sound of the apartment door opening, and tried to lift an eyebrow. I wasn't opposed to abandonment play, but it was a little unexpected.
The murmur of voices from the other room nixed that idea, though. I tried to imagine what she was doing, but none of the ideas jumped out. She could have been ordering a pizza? Maybe there had been someone at the door? She wasn't into netorare, was she...?
The number of possibilities slimmed rapidly as I heard two sets of footsteps approach, one much heavier than the other.
"Hey, what's going on?" I asked.
"Mm, mm mmm mm?" My girlfriend repeated, her tone not quite mocking, but unexpectedly harsh.
"So," an unfamiliar voice asked, "This is the gal, huh?" I felt someone heavy sit on the bed next to me. "Sure is a cutie," she said, and her hand rested softly on my exposed neck.
Jesus, I thought, as she started to tighten her grip, ever so slightly, her hand is huge!
My windpipe was barely constricted for a second before she let go, but that was enough to have me gasping and panting through the gag, a reaction that elicited a chuckle.
"This is gonna be fun," she said, then got quieter, like she was talking to someone else. "If you wanna go get ready, I'll get started."
Breath tickled my ear, and I heard my girlfriend whisper. "I've been waiting for this alllll week."
A pair of large hands lifted my hips, adjusting them so my legs were spread and I was even more exposed.
Something cold and wet pressed against my butt, and the suddenness of the sensation made me arch my back.
"C'mon..." my girlfriend pouted. "I want to hear your noises."
"What do you think?" The butch asked, "One finger or two, to start?"
"Start with two," my girlfriend replied. "If we try to work all the way up then we'll be here all night."
Her lubed fingers slid in, forcing me open. I gasped or moaned - maybe both at once. The sensation of her fingers pushing inside me, slowly, gently, filled my mind.
"-already leaking," I heard, the first part of the conversation lost.
She started to withdraw her fingers, and I made a soft moan of disappointment, instantly morphing into ecstatic pleasure when she pulled out with a pop.
I felt my girlfriend's hot breath in my ear. "I'm such a bad dog," she told me, "I loovvvveee hearing your noises." Her breaths were heavy enough that I didn't doubt her.
"And when she told me she was lookin' for the type of woman that could break her owner in half, well..." The butch chuckled darkly. "I ain't gonna say no to a two for one deal like that."
She stuck her fingers back in me, but kept moving this time, punctuating her words by driving deep into me and making my hips buck.
"You can go ahead and start touching yourself, sweetheart, I'll tell her about the deal," she told my girlfriend, then turned her attention back to me.
I tried to focus on her words, over the sound of my puppy furiously masturbating right next to my face, and the sensation of the butch's fingers pounding me.
"See, your girl told me that you've a thing for collars, yeah? And it just so happens I've got one in my back pocket right now."
Her free hand caressed my bare neck, and I couldn't contain a moan. "But I ain't the type to let my dogs off leash." She laughed. "Just good manners."
A third finger slid in and my brain went blank.
"Back with me?" she asked, "Good. So, come morning, if you ain't interested, I walk out of here and neither of ya'll see me again. Understand?"
"Mmmm," I said, as calmly as the situation allowed.
She hummed appreciatively. "Puppy over there is right, your dumb little moans ARE cute. Now, if I can convince you before then to put this baby on, then I get both of you. Sound fair?"
"Well," she said after a moment of consideration, "Don't really matter what you think, huh. Good luck on holding out!"
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✫𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆, i can see you.
✫ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fighting, swearing, tristan being an asshole, breaking things (not too graphic promise LOL) ✫ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | hey yall, i'm back! i hope everyone enjoys! also i tagged everyone who seemed interested, i'm sorry for the VERY late update. i'm back, mwahhh. also planning a nate archibald series, who'd be interested? lmk! ✫ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @colbybrocks @weepingwitchofthewest @shady-writtingtalk @zulpix-blog @wheelerslover @dogmom600 @damnhati @remussbitch @yourmumstoyboy2-blog @1-800-starkindustrie
The front door opened suddenly and she whipped her head to make eye contact with... Tristan Dugray? Oh, so that's where she's heard that name!
Y/N couldn't control as her mouth flew open. She also couldn't control the words that came out of her mouth as she saw him. "Oh, you've gotta be shitting me."
After Y/N had locked eyes with Tristan she whipped her head to face her father. "You're engaged to Tristan's mother?!"
Her father and Kristan looked surprised — they both exchanged glances before they looked back at her. "Yeah, I guess I am?"
His answer sounded more like a question rather than a straight up reply. He didn't know why she was now seemingly opposed to the idea of him being engaged to Kristan simply because of Tristan.
Y/N looked shocked, her jaw practically on the floor. "You're engaged to Tristan's mother." Instead of a question, it sounds more like a statement.
Before any of them could reply, Tristan spoke. "Oh, hello step-sister." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. He was enjoying see your shocked expression. Tristan's smug remark only fueled your growing frustration and utter disbelief. You shot him a glare that could freeze lava before turning back to her father and Kristan, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.
"So, this is what you meant by wanting me to spend time with my old 'friends'?" Your tone was laced with sarcasm as she addressed her father. "You conveniently forgot to mention that my 'old friend' is now my soon-to-be stepbrother?"
Her father shifted uncomfortably under her accusing gaze, realizing he had failed to properly prepare Y/N for this bombshell. "I... I thought it would be best to tell you in person."
Your frustration mounted with each passing second. "Well you thought wrong, Dad."
Kristan interjected, her voice gentle yet firm. "I understand this is a lot to take in, Y/N. But we're all going to be a family now, and I hope we can find a way to make this work."
Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes at Kristan's attempt to diffuse the tension as she gave her a sarcastic smile. "Right, a family. How convenient."
Tristan leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed with a smirk still playing on his lips. "Well, this should be fun. Welcome to the family, stepsis."
Y/N resisted the urge to launch herself at him as she shot daggers with her eyes. "Don't call me that."
Kristan shot a glare at her son as she turned to you once again. "We didn't realize it would be such a shock to you,. We should have handled this better."
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. You knew you couldn't blame her father entirely, but the whole thing still felt like a betrayal. "I just need some time to process all of this," Y/N muttered, her voice tinged with resignation. "Excuse me."
"I thought that went great." Tristan mumbled as his mother shook his head, your father pulling her in closer.
You turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving your father, Kristan, and Tristan as your retreated to her old bedroom, you couldn't shake the feeling that your carefully constructed world was crumbling around you, and you had no idea how to pick up the pieces.
You stepped out of the car, dramatically slamming the door as you took in the school: Chilton Prep School, where she would be going to school from now. She heard footsteps from behind her, she already knew who it was.
"Welcome home, Cromwell." Tristan's voice rang. You gritted her teeth at the sound of Tristan's voice behind you. You turned slowly, fixing him with a glare that could cut through steel.
"Save it, Dugray," you snapped, your tone dripping with disdain. "This is hardly my idea of home."
Tristan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Well, get used to it. Looks like we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other from now on."
Tristan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Feisty as ever, Cromwell. I'm just offering a friendly welcome to our new classmate, no need to get all... bitchy."
You narrowed your eyes at his remark, resisting the urge to roll them. "I'll take that as a compliment, Dugray. And I don't need your welcome. I know my way around just fine."
Tristan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you. "Oh, come on, Cromwell. Where's that famous New York charm? You're going to need it to survive in this stuffy place."
"I'll manage just fine without your help," you shot back, your voice dripping with determination. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and listen to your bullshit."
You turned away from Tristan, walking into Chilton. You already hated it, everyone looked so pretentious and elitist, just like Tristan. But you weren't going to let that intimidate you. You had faced down Manhattan's elite, and you could handle a bunch of snooty prep school kids. You had grown up with these kids, they couldn't be that hard.
As you made your way through the halls, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. The students eyed you with curiosity, whispers following in your wake. But you held your head high, refusing to let them see any hint of insecurity.
Chilton was a far cry from the bustling streets of Manhattan, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were in for a rough ride. But you were Y/N Cromwell, and you didn't back down from a challenge.
With a flick of your hair and a confident stride, you made your way to your first class, ready to show Chilton Prep that Y/N Cromwell was a force to be reckoned with.
"Where are you two going?" You popped a grape in your mouth as you watched Kristan grab her purse from the chair as your father tightened his tie.
"I told you earlier, we have a date."
You raised an eyebrow at your father's response, a hint of skepticism in your voice. "A date? You two are acting like lovesick teenagers."
Kristan chuckled, smoothing down her blouse as she shot you a warm smile. "Well, your father does know how to sweep a lady off her feet."
You rolled your eyes as Kristan and your father shared glances. You all knew what that meant, you had to be left alone with Tristan. You had barely managed to tolerate his presence since arriving at your father's house, and the thought of spending an evening alone with him was enough to make you want to crawl out of your skin.
"Well, have fun on your date," you forced out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
With a quick goodbye, your father and Kristan headed out the door, leaving you alone, turning around and seeing Tristan in the spacious living room. He caught your gaze and his lips curved up into a smile.
You felt a shiver run down your spine as Tristan's gaze met yours, his smirk sending a wave of irritation coursing through you. You knew exactly what he was thinking – that he had you right where he wanted you, trapped in his company for the evening.
Suppressing a sigh, you turned away from Tristan, refusing to let him see how much he was getting under your skin. Instead, you busied yourself with anything that would distract you from his presence – flipping through a magazine, checking your phone, anything to avoid acknowledging him.
But no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, Tristan was a persistent presence in the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his smug smirk burning into the back of your skull.
Finally unable to take it anymore, you turned to face him with a glare. "What do you want, Tristan?" you snapped, your patience wearing thin.
Tristan's smirk widened, his gaze flickering with amusement. "Just enjoying the view, Cromwell," he replied casually, as if your irritation was nothing more than entertainment to him.
You let out a bitter laugh as you shook your head. "Real classy, Tristan."
Tristan's smirk only widened at your remark, his amusement evident in every line of his face. "Oh, come on, Cromwell," he said, his tone teasing. "You can't tell me you're not used to being the center of attention. You were in New York for five years and you're telling me you didn't have the boys throwing themselves at you?"
You narrowed your eyes at Tristan, refusing to let his words rattle you. "I don't need validation from boys like you," you retorted, your voice dripping with annoyance. "Unlike some people, I have more important things to focus on than relationships."
Tristan's smirk faltered slightly at your cutting remark, but he quickly regained his composure. "Touché, Cromwell," he replied, his tone laced with amusement. "But don't act like you're immune to a little attention. I've seen the way you strut around like you own the place."
"And you don't? Please, I see the way every girl at Chilton looks at you. And I know you well enough to see how much that strokes your already, inflated ego." You paused, your voice laced with sarcasm as you leveled a pointed gaze at Tristan. "But hey, who am I to judge? If you want to bask in the adoration of your fan club, be my guest."
"Oh, I will, Y/N." Tristan let out a laugh as he watched you get all heated. He continued you watch you as you scoffed, turning your head back to the magazine.
You could feel his eyes on you, his amusement practically palpable. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. You weren't about to let him see how much he was getting to you. With a determined flick of your wrist, you closed the magazine and stood up from the sofa, shooting Tristan a glare.
"I have better things to do than sit here and listen to you," you declared, your voice laced with determination. With that, you turned on your heel and marched out of the room, leaving Tristan behind with his smug smirk and his insufferable ego.
You refused to let him drag you down to his level – you had bigger things to focus on than his petty games, like actually getting back to Manhattan where you belonged.
As you walked away, Tristan's amusement turned to frustration. He wasn't used to someone challenging him like this, especially not someone like you. With a determined stride, he followed after you, catching up just as you reached the hallway.
As you stormed out of the room, Tristan's smirk faded into a scowl. He watched you go, frustration bubbling up inside him. How dare she walk away from him like that? Without a second thought, Tristan followed after you, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he caught up to you just as you reached the foyer.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Tristan called out, his voice sharp with annoyance.
You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him with a glare. "Away from you," you replied sharply, crossing your arms over your chest. "I can't stand being around you for another second."
Tristan's jaw clenched, his own temper flaring. "Oh, please," he scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Like you're any better. You're nothing but a spoiled brat who thinks she's better than everyone else."
The words hit you like a slap in the face, igniting a firestorm of rage within you. "At least I'm not a narcissistic asshole who gets off on belittling others," you spat, your voice rising with each word. "You think you're so much better but you're not."
Tristan squared his shoulders, meeting your gaze head-on. "I want to know what your problem is," he replied, his tone angry. "You've been acting like you a complete bitch when I'm all trying to do is be your friend."
You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Oh, spare me the act, Tristan," you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "We both know that's not what you're after. You just want to play your little games and stroke your own ego."
Tristan's jaw clenched, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what about you, huh?" he retorted, his voice rising in anger. "You act like you're too good for everyone, like you're above it all. Well, let me tell you something, Y/N – you're not as special as you think you are."
"You know what, Tristan. I don't care about you or your stupid games because all I'm trying to do is get back to New York. All this shit is just a rock in the road," you spat as you turned around, walking away.
"Oh really? What about your obvious drinking problem, that's why your mom sent you away, right?"
You stopped in your track as you took in Tristan's words. Fury was etched across your features as you spun around to face him, your fists clenched at your sides. "How dare you," you seethed, your voice trembling with rage. "You stupid asshole!"
You pushed him as hard as you could, causing him to trip and fall into a table. You heard a loud shattering and both of you just stared at each other before looking down to see glass everywhere.
"Shit, that's my mom's vase." Tristan's eyes widened in shock as he glanced at the shattered remains of the vase on the floor.
Your chest heaved with anger as you glared at Tristan, your fists still clenched at your sides. "You deserved it," you spat, your voice thick with venom. "You had no right to say that."
"Y/N, this vase is like two grand. It was my mom's favorite vase," Tristan scoffed as he stared down at the ground. "She's gonna be fucking pissed, idiot."
You stared back at him with anger but you knew that you needed to figure something out. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you clenched your jaw and met Tristan's gaze head-on. "I know I messed up," you admitted begrudgingly, your voice tight with frustration. "You shouldn't have been a bitch."
"Well you shouldn't have pushed me, like an psycho." Tristan's voice was sharp, but there was a hint of surrender beneath his irritation. He knew that pointing fingers wouldn't solve anything, but he couldn't help but feel defensive in the face of your accusation.
"Well I'm not apologizing-"
"Y/N, we need to figure out what to do before they come home."
And right on cue, the front door opened, revealing your father and Kristan, who froze in shock at the sight of the shattered vase and the two of you standing next to it.
Your father's expression hardened as he took in the scene, his disappointment evident in his eyes. "What in the world happened here?" he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.
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looking through your eyes + five
authors note: soooo, i both hate and love this one. can't tell if i'm just being super hard on myself, but it feels flat and a bit boring, but i also know if i keep messing with it, i'll never feel wholly satisfied, so here is the best version i could come up with!
it does include more of roman's background though so....there's that at least lmao
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: sexual harassment, language, violence, ptsd episode (dissociation, avoidance, breakdown), torture
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
words: 8k
Solana has come to the realization that training isn’t entirely awful.
Or maybe it’s the fact that along with training, she’s allowed the chance to socialize, to be around other people and learn to not be so nervous all of the time. Naomi is a great person for that, bubbly and naturally personable. She’s created such a welcoming space that has left Solana feeling less and less nervous.
A couple weeks into training, Solana also feels like she’s growing more comfortable in her learning. It’s still the very basics, a lot of focus on flexibility, but it feels good. It feels almost relieving to be able to learn certain skills and tips that she can use to maybe one day defend herself.
To maybe one day be able to take care of herself.
Or maybe some dreams are just too big to wish for.
It’s the end of her session with Naomi, and Solana is in the women’s locker rooms, having just finished her shower. She’s in her head a bit, mentally going over what she’s going to make Roman for dinner.
He’s been gone more often than not the past couple weeks, and she’s torn on that. On one hand, it’s nice not to be around a man who she’s supposed to be figuring out a way to kill, a man whose presence alone creates an additional layer of anxiety on top of the pre-existing baseline that is her everyday anxiety
But…..
But, there’s also a part of her that….that wouldn’t be too opposed if he was around more. Being alone in the big house also creates a space of anxiety. If…if he was present more, maybe she could learn how to interact with him.
Could learn him.
It’s this strange thought process that’s so confusing and almost overwhelming for her that it keeps her from noticing the pending danger lurking just steps away.
“Hey, Solana.”
Solana gasps loudly, spinning around, her eyes widening at Austin Theory who stands before her with that same predatory smile. She opens her mouth to scream, but she’s too slow.
Austin backs her against the lockers and slaps his hand over her mouth. His other hand moves to pin her hands over her hand. Instantly, her heart is beating out her fucking chest, an intense weight of dread anchoring her down.
Solana feels paralyzed. She is paralyzed.
“Always so damn jumpy. All we wanna do is get to know you....”
It’s almost perfect timing when another man appears, Grayson. But, it’s when he sees Austin and Solana that he frowns, walking over, “man, what the hell are you doing?”
Austin rolls his eyes, laughing. “Come on, don’t be a little bitch. It’s just a little fun.”
“This isn’t funny, Austin. If Reigns finds out—”
“What the fuck is he gonna do, huh?” Austin scoffs, gaze returning back on Solana who has her eyes clenched shut, tears threatening to spill over. “And you’re not going to say anything to him anyway, are you?”
Solana gasps, breathing uneven as Austin lowers his hand to tug on the knot of her towel just enough to loosen it but not enough to undo it. Regardless, it’s that one act that truly immobilizes her because she’s no longer standing before this man as a grown woman.
She’s that 12 year old little girl completely unaware of what night of horrors is about to be unleashed on her, the way an unspeakable act of evil perpetrated on an innocent child is going to lead her down a dark, depressing path.
And she’s frozen, frozen in time, forever stuck in that state of suffering.
Grayson’s eyes fall on Solana, seeing that she’s almost no longer present, dissociating, and that seemingly freaks him out even more. He tugs on Austin’s shoulder. “You had your fun, mate. Let’s fucking go.”
Austin has never been one to listen to others. Ever. But in a testament to his cruelty, Solana’s lack of reaction, lack of struggling and displaying helplessness in front of him wanes the enjoyment. He doesn’t get off as much, doesn’t feel as empowered as he does by making people feel small.
So with a scoff and not an ounce of influence from Grayson in his ear, he releases her, stepping back with a smirk as she instantly moves her arms over her chest.
“Relax, Mrs. Reigns.” She’s anything but, and it brings a smile to his face. It’s so fucking easy to get her unnerved. “Just messing with ya, that’s all.”
There’s more distant talking, snickering and combatting with someone speaking quietly but urgently. Solana can make out part of that as she gradually returns to a state of awareness. Enough to where she’s eventually cognizant of the fact that they’ve left, that she’s alone, that they no longer pose an immediate threat.
But, they do. They do, because what if they come back?
Chest still tightening, breathing still erratic, Solana rushes over to the door, shaking hands managing to shut it closed and locked. But, it’s not enough to just be alone, to know that no one can come in and try to hurt her.
Because she still feels it.
Still feels hands on her, restricting her, bounding her, and it makes her sick.
Hand over her mouth, Solana does her best to push back the nausea, rushing over to the showers, turning the knob so that it’s at full strength.
And heat too.
Shoving the towel off her body, she steps under the scalding water and grabs the soap, immediately scrubbing at her body. It’s unnecessary force, unnecessary heat, unnecessary altogether, but it’s the only thing that gives her a faux sense of comfort. She needs to wash the feeling of them off of her, scrub until her skin starts to look wrinkled and raw, her complexion tinging with redness from the heat of the water.
Eventually, the scrubbing stops feeling like enough. Nothing feels like enough, and she falls back against the wall of the shower, sliding down as she pulls her knees to her chest.
And she cries, the water blending seamlessly with the tears that filter out the drain in a way she wishes the heavy feelings wrecking her body would melt away.
Safe.....
It's a dream that she'll never achieve.
A wasted hope.
A lie.
—-----------
“The RKO proposal is pretty decent.”
“But not good enough.” Roman’s dismissal is swift and to the point. “I want 75% of all profits.”
Rikishi presses his lips together, calmly reminding, “that’s gonna be a hard sell.”
“Orton is desperate. He’s an imbecile who uses more products than he moves and is running Bob’s legacy into the ground.” Roman is a man who prides himself on always being on the up and up. He makes it his business to know what’s going on with all competitors and even partnerships. “He should consider my offer fucking mercy. 75% or nothing.”
Rikishi sits back in his chair, a proud smile growing on his face. “I’ve taught you well, Uce”
There’s a modicum of truth to his cousin’s words, but for the most part, Roman has learned more on his own than anything anyone could have ever taught him.
“What’s the status of the imports from Columbia?”
Jey leans forward, answering without pause. “Scheduled to arrive just on time, assuming nothing goes awry.”
“Who’s managing?”
“Tama.”
Roman nods. “It’ll be fine.” His distant cousin, Tama Tonga is a bit on the……eccentric side, but he’s never failed to see a successful shipment through from beginning to end.
“If…..” Paul’s low but firm voice enters the conversation, Roman’s lazy gaze falling on the man. “If I may, my Tribal Chief?” With the nod of approval from the Head of the Table, Paul clears his throat. “By my calculations, there’s a way for us to improve on the total time it currently takes for us to move product by over 40% with some minor….changes.”
Jimmy, who sits almost bored at the other side of the table, feet propped up, asks in a suspicion tone. “What kind of changes?”
Paul clears his throat. “If we were to have access to the Eastern harbor—”
At that, both Jimmy and Jey land eyes on their cousins head counsel. Jey is the first to speak though. “You know that’s Nightmare territory, correct?”
Paul’s voice is surprisingly calm. “I do.” A nervous set of blue eyes settle on the man who sits at the head of the table, the primary one who needs to be convinced of the possible benefits of what he’s about to suggest. “If we would just consider—”
“No.” Roman’s rejection is loud and echoes throughout the conference room. “How could you even fucking suggest that shit?”
“My Tribal Chief, if you could please hear out my—”
Roman’s fist banging against the table sends an alert to all members of this current meeting that the Tribal Chief word is final and unchanging. “I said…..no.”
Rikishi shakes his head, thankful that a stern rejection is the extent of his cousin’s reaction. He can’t believe Paul could even be stupid enough to even suggest such a thing to Roman. Perhaps he could be swayed over to see the business and financial benefits, but Roman…..no, that history runs too deep and bleeds too much red for Roman Reigns to ever consider some sort of ceasefire or let alone alliance with The Nightmare Factory.
“Well, that shit got awkward real fast,” Jey mutters, uncomfortable with the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Even if it makes all the sense in the world. “How about that marriage life?
Roman shuts his eyes. It’s jumping from one annoying topic to another. “What?”
“Man, Big Dog living good over there,” Jimmy’s smile is wide as he rubs his hands together. “Lil Soso can cook her ass off!”
“Stop calling her that.”
“Speaking of ass, she pregnant yet?”
This is why Roman didn’t want to get on this subject, because he knew where it would lead to, another road he’s not trying to go down right now.
Rikishi chimes in, “their delivery is trash, but the question is still fair. Is there a chance she’s pregnant?” A sly smile falls on his face as he teases, “I know you well enough, Uce, that I don’t need to remind you of the importance of trying.”
Jey snorts. “That ain’t never been a problem for any of us. Especially Roman. Man, I still don’t know how you don’t have a gaggle of lil mean mugging ass kids running around here.”
The answer is simple, and Roman expresses as such. “Because I know how to fucking use a condom unlike you idiots.”
“Hey. I don’t know what you talking about. All my kids by Nicki.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
At that, Jey jumps out the chair, Jimmy rolling his eyes as Paul shakes his head and sighs heavily. “Ayo, you the Tribal Chief and everything, but you not gon’ keep disrespecting my wife like that, aight?”
“Where did you sleep last night, Jey?” Roman’s tone is both bored and knowing, especially as Jey’s gaze drops the same way his ass does right back in his seat. “That’s what I thought.”
“Just…” Rikishi’s voice is louder, allowing him to realign the conversation. “Keep us updated, Roman. When she does get pregnant, you’ll need to up her security.”
“I’m aware.” Just like he’s aware of the fact that unless this girl is the virgin fucking Mary and will have an immaculate conception, there’s no need to worry about that right now.
Or ever.
His business phone lighting up with a familiar name across the screen is both a welcomed surprise as well as distraction for Roman. Without hesitation, he answers, watching the TV anchored on the wall light up.
Roman’s shoulder straightens as he leans back further into the soft Italian leather of his chair. “Dwayne.”
“Roman.�� Dwayne removes the stereotypical dark glasses Roman always grew accustomed to seeing his cousin wear in any interaction. His smile beams. “Long time no fucking see, cousin.”
Roman shrugs, answering honestly, “been busy.”
“I saw that. Congratulations on the marriage. An invite would have been fucking nice.”
At that, Roman chuckles, calling out his bluff. “Like you would have come.”
Dwayne’s laughter echoes through the office. “Fair.” He then greets the rest of the men present, though it’s a surprise to no one that his initial exchange is solely with Roman. They’ve always had a great bond, even better business partnership, hence the position Roman has placed him in. “You know why I’m calling though”
And there goes the ‘fun’ while it lasted. Straight into business with his big cousin. He respects it immensely though. Dwayne is all about profit and efficiency and ensuring the smoothness of operations. “The same reason you always reach out, cause it’s not that often.”
“It’s been a couple years, cousin….”
“I’m aware.”
And he is.
6 years, to be precise.
“You need to fly out here.” Dwayne isn’t saying anything Roman doesn’t already know, hasn’t already heard. “They need to see your face.”
“They have you.”
Dwayne snorts. “They hate me almost as much as they hate you.” They being that other side of Roman’s family, the side that he could go on with the rest of his life without seeing or speaking to. The side that probably feels the same about him and his Tribal tattoos, long hair, and skin that is not like theirs.
Yeah….hate is definitely the right word.
“Do you care?”
“Hell no.” The answer is surprising, unlike Dwayne’s next statement. “But, I do care when shit starts to get more openly disrespectful.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re becoming bolder with questioning your leadership. Less subtle. More direct.”
At that, Roman’s attention is fully captured. He sits up in his seat. “Is that so?”
The twins, Rikishi, and Paul all exchange knowing glances, having been wisely quiet to allow the Head of the Table to conduct business as he sees fit. But this, they all know where this is going.
“Maybe it is time I remind them who the fuck is in charge here.” As much as Roman loathes the idea of having to be around and interact with these fuckers, nothing vexes him more than having his authority challenged.
Like he’s not the one, the two, and the three they’ve been looking for.
“I’ll see about flying out within the next week.”
Jey speaks up for the first time. “I can’t just leave on that short notice—”
“Did I say I needed you to come with me?” It’s a bit of a rhetorical question. “I can handle this on my own.”
As is his preference with most things, because in Roman’s opinion, most things are handled better and in the way that most pleases him when he does it himself. His expectations can only be set and maintained or exceeded by him.
“At least take Paul with you, Uce.” Rikishi suggests, and in the moment, it’s last thing he wants. Paul’s already pissed him off enough for the day. “They need to be straightened out, not taken out. Paul can help you keep that balance.”
Roman isn’t obstinate enough to disagree with that. Paul does have his uses, one of which being his ability to talk Roman down when the preference is to just kill motherfuckers the second he deems them annoying.
And that’s not the goal for this trip.
Not yet, anyway.
“Fine. Wise Man and I will go.” There are far too many other things on Roman’s plate for him to push back on a plus one. This is immaterial to the larger picture. “Dwayne, start the preparations.”
“You got it, brotha’. I’ll keep in touch.”
The screen goes dark as Dwayne ends the call. Roman reclines back in his chair, a mixture of muddy, dark, bleak emotions. The idea of having to be around his maternal family is quite literally sickening to him. He hates those sons of bitches almost as much as they hate and despise him.
But on another hand, the idea of getting away from all this, from this Solana dilemma, there could be some benefits. He’d be gone for a couple of weeks, perhaps even a month. Maybe in that space he’ll come back to a different kind of woman. A woman who knows how to fucking stand up for herself instead of being so scared all the time.
And as if reading his cousin’s mind, Jimmy breaks the silence, asking, “Ayo, Roman, you sure you should be leaving—”
A knock on the door seems to only exacerbate the tension as Roman snaps. “What?”
Alicia, his secretary, easy on the eyes and effective in what she does, opens the door just enough to stick her head through. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Reigns—”
“So why are you?” It’s well known that Roman is a man who hates interruptions, especially when he’s in the middle of a briefing meeting, and she knows this well. Might be time for a new secretary.
Alicia swallows and calmly explains, “your cousin, Nia, is on line one. She says she needs to speak to you immediately.”
“She can wait.”
“With….all due respect, sir, it sounds like an emergency. She’s been blowing up the lines all morning.”
Curious, Roman turns his personal phone over and sees his lock screen littered with missed calls, texts, and a voicemail all from one person.
Nia.
With a heavy sigh, Roman dismisses Alicia. “I’ll handle it.”
Quietly, she closes the door and he unlocks his phone to return the call. Nia never makes such an effort to get in contact with him. Some shit must have went down, though his mind still wonders what level of bullshit could have occurred that even she can’t handle.
Phone laid on the table, he dials and places it on speaker.
“It’s about fucking time, you asshole!” Her introduction is unsurprising. “I’ve been trying to call you for almost an hour.”
Roman is already tempted to hang up the phone and block her until further notice. “What do you want, Nia?”
“You need to get down here now.” He’s still not hearing anything that would warrant him moving an inch. “Your fucking Princess Peach wife—”
But at that, Roman’s interest is piqued. He sits forward in his chair. “What about her?”
“I don’t know, she had a mental breakdown or something and has locked herself in the locker rooms. We can’t get her to come out—”
Right away, Roman gets to blaming and accusing. “What the fuck did you do to her?” Nia can’t respond before he asks the next important question. “Where the fuck was Solo!”
“I didn’t do anything, Roman! And Solo can’t be with her in the fucking women’s locker room!” Nia’s defense is as sharp as his imputation. “I told you that girl isn’t made for this life. She’s a fucking problem! Come get her now, or I’m going to blow the damn doors off myself.”
Highly vexed with Nia’s smart ass mouth as well as the nature of the situation, Roman slams his finger on the end button and stands up from his chair, rolling his shoulders. “Fucking hell.”
Jey, just as confused as everyone else, decides to be the sacrificial lamb, asking, “Roman, what was that—”
“You two come with me. Wise Man. Rikishi. Finish and send out the response to Orton’s proposal.” Roman issues out indisputable commands as he marches out of the room, the twins not hesitating to hop up and follow suit. Confused or not, they know better than to question their cousin when he’s in one of these moods.
They don’t even say anything for the beginning portion of the ride to the Warehouse, a rarity for them considering they always have something to say. But this time, they wait for Roman to break the silence, and he eventually does, still just as angry.
“I don’t have time to be dealing with this shit!” To say Roman is pissed would be an understatement. He’s livid. For a lot of different reasons, really, maybe even mostly at the fact that his head counsel had the unmitigated gall to even utter Rhodes name around him.
Roman would see the entire empire go up in smoke and flames before he’d ever agree to any sort of alliance with that son of a bitch.
That only adds on top of the fact that the Italian faction of his empire seems to be questioning his ability to lead, as if the data doesn’t clearly support that business has never been better. The cash flow is endless. Numbers don’t lie.
But, Roman knows the real reason for their insubordination.
It’s because of his father, the Samoan blood that runs through his veins. His being afakasi. Mixed. They believe that following that night, the alliance between the Bloodline and the Guild, an alliance sealed by the marriage of his father and mother, should have been dissolved. That someone from his mother’s side, a full blooded Italian, should sit on that metaphorical throne.
But, that’s not the case.
Roman assumed power because it is his by birthright, and he’ll be damned if he lets some ignorant fucks try to take it from him.
So yes….there are a lot of different reasons for his anger.
But, it’s a lot easier to blame it on the reason he’s in an SUV now, heading to a place he didn’t even plan to attend today.
“I’m not going to keep dealing with this shit with her.” He’s not even entirely sure who he’s speaking to at this point, or if he’s directing his statements to anyone in particular. Just needing to vent and get it out.
“What do you mean keep dealing?” Jimmy is the first to pick up on his cousin’s wording. “Something like this happen before?”
The twins look between each other and then back at Roman who runs his hand over his face, realizing that if there’s anyone he can trust to keep this between them, it’s the twins. Annoying and sometimes dimwitted, they’re notoriously loyal and can sometimes provide sage advice.
“She had a complete meltdown on the wedding night. Panic attack, wouldn’t stop crying.” Roman conveniently leaves out the part of him talking her down from a panic attack. They don’t need to know that.
No one needs to know that.
“After ya’ll….”
“No.” He answers, honestly. “We didn’t even do it. She was too hysterical.”
“Wait a minute.” It doesn’t surprise Roman that Jimmy is the first to put two and two together. “So you ain’t even fucked her yet? But you said—”
“I know what I said.” He doesn’t need to be reminded of anything. Roman’s memory is long and sharp. “I also know what I do and don’t feel like dealing with right now.”
“Uce, the only reason you even married this girl was so that she could give you an heir. How the hell is that supposed to happen if she won’t even let you touch her?” As much as Roman wants to snap at his cousins, he can’t. He can’t because they’re right. It’s something he’s thought about on and off since the wedding night.
It’s painfully evident to him that Solana’s mental state is….fragile, to stay the least.
He doesn’t need fragility.
He doesn’t do fragility.
The same way he apparently can’t do her.
“Maybe you need to just annul the shit and cut your losses while it’s still early.” Jey suggests, and Roman can’t deny the idea has a level of appeal to it. Until the next part leaves his cousin’s mouth. “Send her back to her family.”
“No.” That’s an easy no. He’s not entirely opposed to the idea of annulment, but what’s not an option is sending her back to that house of horrors. The only way he can see himself doing that is if he’s put a bullet in both her brother and father’s head, which technically, is the plan anyway.
He would just be making some…..timeline adjustments.
“I won’t send her back there. That’s a death wish.”
Maybe set her up with some money and a house. Let her live out her days with her damn writing, reading, and cooking, the only three things she seems capable of doing without fear. But even thinking that, Roman wonders just how capable she is of living on her own.
Xavier kept the girl so damn sheltered. He’d have to keep a security detail on her at all times. Maybe keep Solo with her. She seems to have grown somewhat comfortable with him.
The same with Naomi.
Or, so he thought. People who are moving in the right direction don’t lock themselves in public fucking locker rooms.
Jimmy also points out, validly, “well, you obviously can’t keep her around if she literally can’t do the one job she has.”
“Let’s not be irrational, alright?” Jey, in a twist of faith, tries to be the voice of reason. “That girl can cook.”
Jimmy’s eyes light up. “Oh shit, I forgot about that.” Sure enough, he switches his tune. “Man, Soso ain’t even that bad, uce. You just gotta be patient with her.”
The change of tune doesn’t surprise Roman, but his suggestion is almost comical. If not for the fact that he’s already in a sour ass mood. “Do I look like a patient man?”
“No, but you do look like a man who could benefit from learning how to be patient,” Jimmy’s rebuff is quick and sharp. “That’s why you and Jey on high blood pressure medication right now. Both ya’ll hotheaded asses be getting yourselves all upset over nothing. Probably why you’re going gray too.”
There may be some element of truth to what he’s saying, but it’s also irrelevant to the issue at hand.
“I’ll figure something out,” he mutters, and it’s the truth, because that’s what Roman does. He figures shit out.
He always figures shit out.
The SUV is barely parked when Roman flings the door open, slamming it shut behind him, not knowing exactly what he’s about to walk into.
“What happened?” Roman’s demand is accompanied by his powerful stride into the Warehouse, Nia immediately rolling her eyes and pointing to Naomi.
“Ask her. She was the last one to interact with her.”
Naomi is unsurprised by both Nia throwing her under the bus as well as Roman directing his fury in her direction.
“What the fuck happened?”
As someone who’s been involved with the Bloodline and their family members for over a decade, she’s used to both Roman’s anger as well as being on the receiving end of said anger. So, her response is calm and to the point. “Like I told Nia, we trained, and she was fine. She actually did well today. I had another training session after her, so we agreed on the next date, and she left for the locker rooms. That’s it.”
Naomi’s answer is unhelpful, but he believes her. Knows she’s being honest. It’s just that her honesty doesn’t do shit for him.
“Clear the place.” It’s directed to Nia even if his focus is still on Naomi.
Nia steps forward, irritation undeniable. “Roman, seriously? We have matches lined up—”
“I don’t care. I want it cleared now, Nia.” She’s about to protest again, but he lifts his hand, warning, “I’m not in the mood, so don’t fucking test me.”
Nia isn’t stupid. She might be able to teeter the lines some days with her cousin, but this clearly isn’t one of those days. Grumbled protests stay within the confines of her inner dialogue as she turns on the edge of her heel to start emptying the Warehouse.
The twins step forward, asking, “what you need us to do?”
Nothing. He doesn’t want anyone to do anything aside from leaving him the hell alone, but that’s not an option. So, he moves quick to find a task for them. Naomi as well. “Check the cameras. Something happened, and I want to know what.”
“What if—”
“Check the cameras.” At this point, Roman’s about to kick them all out if people keep questioning him like he isn’t the fucking Tribal Chief.
Control has always been a big thing for Roman.
When one doesn’t have much, or any, as a child, they overcompensate, and then some, as an adult.
He recognizes that fully.
As all parties move to follow through on his orders, Roman heads toward the locker rooms, ignoring the complaining of the gym goers having to prematurely leave against their own volition. He’s not focused on that, just on the panel near the doors, a panel he’s never had to use until this day.
A panel only he can operate and use as its his biometrics and only his. Again, a man who likes control.
It takes less than a minute for him to gain access, the door automatically opening. Roman steps in and closes it behind him.
“Solana.” He’s certain she won’t answer him, won’t magically do a 180 and feel well enough to step out, but he does feel like at least making his presence known to her will minimize her fear and surprise.
Because one of the first things he notices and hones in on is sound, listening for any and all sounds that could lead him in her direction, and it’s a bit on the easy side considering there’s only the sound of running water coming from one area. And if he had to guess, one specific shower stall.
Carefully, his steps take him from one end of the room to the other, moving in the direction of the woman he needs to find.
And he does find her.
He finds her sitting on the floor of the shower, naked, enclosed in the corner, her legs pulled up to her chest, staring like she’s in a state of shock, like she’s not aware of where she is or what she’s doing. Like she’s not aware of the heat of the water bearing down on her body.
“What the hell?” Roman’s first reaction is a modicum of shock, the heat from the steam alone almost instantly suffocating him. Naturally, he moves toward her, to cut it off, but her scream of terror stops him prematurely.
“No!” It’s been a while since Roman has heard that level and depth of fear in someone’s voice, in the hefty depth of their sorrow. She’s petrified. “P–please don’t.”
It’s for that he actually hesitates, doing his best not to shout at her because that’s clearly the last thing she needs. “Solana, I’m not gonna fucking touch you, but you’re burning yourself!”
While he does his best to keep his eyes focused on non–inappropriate areas, he can already see the reddening of her arms and back. If she already hasn’t burned herself.
Again, he tries to reason with her, which is such a strange experience. Roman doesn’t negotiate with people. He does whatever the fuck he wants and cuts down anyone who has something to say about it. But this, this is a completely different experience he’s not entirely sure he knows how to navigate in a way that won’t fuck this girl up even more than she already is.
“I’m just going to shut the water off.” Announcing his intentions seems like the next best thing, even if it seems to do little to calm her. So, he bites the bullet and moves fast enough to where she can’t protest until it’s already done.
Which is exactly what happens.
“No! I—I need—I need to get clean. I need—” She starts crying again, hugging her legs closer to her body. “I can still feel—their hands—”
“Did someone touch you?” Interrupting her isn’t a good idea, especially with the way anger naturally floats into his tone. It’s almost impossible for it not to. If someone fucking touched her….“ Solana….what happened?”
She gasps, shaking her head, pleading almost. “Please….please don’t m–make me t–t–talk about it.”
There’s a distant look in her eyes, one that’s both uncomfortably but extremely familiar to Roman. He knows what it looks like for someone to be physically present but mentally elsewhere. That’s what Solana is right now.
She’s not talking about today but something else, something much darker that whatever happened today only triggered.
Roman slowly starts to crouch down in front of her but she jerks back. “I’m not going to touch you, Solana,” he again reiterates. “But you can’t stay in here.” He starts to remove his jacket, reaching it over to her. “We have to go back to the house.”
Again, she’s panicking, protesting. “I can’t—I can’t go out t–t–there.”
“I had the place cleared,” he explains. “There’s no one out there except for the twins, Naomi, and Nia.” Truthfully, he’s starting to wonder if he should have asked them to leave too. He didn’t know she'd be this frazzled.
“Come on," he encourages.
Eventually, she accepts his jacket, and Roman stands back up to his full height, turning around and allowing her the privacy he’s sure she’d want. She steps forward, Roman seeing she’s hugging herself keeping his jacket covering her body.
She keeps her head down, obviously still shaken up, still messed up from a lot of things. He honestly doesn’t know where the trauma stops and ends with this girl.
Roman directs her. “Get dressed. Meet me outside.” He looks down at her, needing some level of acknowledgement. “Okay?”
Solana surprises him by glancing up, nodding softly, walking away to what he would guess is the locker where her clothes are.
Pleased that she’s at least well enough to be left alone to follow through on a simple task, Roman exits the locker room. He approaches the desk, the twins immediately standing up. It’s not lost upon him that Naomi and Nia are nowhere to be seen. If he had to guess, Jimmy sent Naomi home, not wanting her to bear anymore of Roman’s wrath. And Nia left to avoid unleashing her wrath on Roman, neither of which he’s entirely upset about.
He has no interest in seeing either of them right now.
Jimmy speaks first. “We found something.”
“Send it to me.” Roman is smart. Always has been. It’s not difficult for him to connect the dots to see that someone clearly fucked with Solana. And he’s almost certain whatever footage the twins found will confirm and show exactly how she was fucked with. The same way he’s entirely certain that managing his anger seeing as such is damn near if not wholly impossible.
And she doesn’t need that right now. She’s already a hot mess. Being exposed to his explosive temper will only exacerbate that, so being sent the footage for him to view when he’s alone and can respond as violently as he wants is the best route.
Especially with his next order.
“Whoever it is, bring em’ to Asylum.” He adds, as if it needs to be specified. “Tonight.”
Jey nods, and Roman notices there’s an edge to his voice. The same way there’s an edge in Jimmy’s expression. They seem pissed. “You got it.” And for some reason, Roman has a burning guess that it has to do with whatever they found rather than it being directed toward him.
Waiting for Solana to exit the locker rooms, Roman blows out a deep breath and scratches his beard. This day has been a shitshow for a variety of reasons, but this reason in particular, this thing with Solana, it ranks pretty high up there.
He hasn’t a clue what he’s doing to do with this girl.
“Jimmy.”
“Whassup?”
“Text Paul. Tell him I want Solana’s medical records. All of them.”
Roman knows now he needs answers, specific answers regarding exactly what he’s dealing with. And Solana is clearly in no position to share these things with him, not that he’d even want her to.
She’d probably have to be admitted somewhere if he tried that shit.
Jimmy looks understandably confused but affirms, “I gotchu.”
And with that, Roman also pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts, selecting the thread and typing out a message he doesn’t really think twice about.
Roman: Dwayne. Change of plans. I’ll come when I can, but now’s not a good time. I have shit here I need to handle first.
Roman: In the meantime, take my name out their fucking mouths.
————
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
And just like that, Solana knows that he knows what happened. Knows about Austin and Grayson.
And it turns her stomach.
Roman took her back to the house. He left her alone, giving her time and space to come down from her breakdown. And even in sitting in her room, writing out her feelings about the day's events, she knew. Solana knew that it wasn’t that simple. That Roman wouldn’t just leave what happened today at that.
That he’d want to know what happened, what triggered it, but naively, she tried to convince herself he’s too busy of a man to deep dive and find out on his own. To push her for answers.
She’s wrong.
She’s wrong because that’s the first thing to leave his mouth when he finds her in the kitchen.
Roman’s question, however, is valid and understandable, even if just the thought alone of having this conversation makes Solana physically uncomfortable.
Still, given everything that’s happened today, she can’t blame him for wanting answers.
She just doesn’t have them to give.
Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I—I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” His tone is full of mockery and frustration that she also can’t blame him for but physically finds herself feeling unsettled. “Bullshit. I want an answer, Solana.”
Her skin feels hot, stomach starting to knot. “I just—I don’t—”
“I can’t handle problems you have if you don’t fucking tell me that you have a problem in the first place.”
“I’m sorry—”
At that, Roman snaps, unintentionally, but also a build-up from all of the day’s events. “Stop fucking apologizing!”
What he doesn’t expect is for her to jump back away from him, so much so that she falls to the floor and hurriedly moves back against the cabinet, as she shouts in a panic, “I’m sorry!” Her arms are crossed in front of her body, a defensive position, like she’s waiting, bracing.
Waiting for him to hit her.
Roman’s been in this position countless times. Standing before people as they begged for mercy, begged for him to not enact his vengeance, to rule out his judgment as judge, juror, and executioner. And it’s always been a thrill for him, a boost to his ego, a reminder of his power.
And not once has he ever felt bad for causing such a reaction.
Not until this moment.
With slow, careful movements, Roman also moves to the floor, one leg outstretched, the other hiked so his foot is planted on the ground. His arm casually resting on his knee. “Solana….do you remember what I said to you that day at your job?”
She's still waiting for the inevitable, waiting for him to lash out, for him to hit her. But, she’s confused by the fact that instead of him doing so just yet, he's sitting on the floor opposite of her. And somehow, she finds it in her to focus on his question. He said a couple of noteworthy things that day, but somehow, she knows exactly what he’s referring to.
“My…..my clumsiness.” Clumsiness he told her she wouldn’t have to worry about, but she’s been more than worried about it, more waiting for it, expecting it at some point or another.
“And I meant that shit.” His head is leaned back against the cabinet, and Solana suddenly feels even worse. He seems so stressed out from all of this, from her. “You’re my wife now. I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you. Not your dad. Not your brother. Not fucking Theory and Waller.” There’s a bit of a pause as he adds, almost quietly, “and especially not me.”
Solana is unsure what to make of what he’s saying to her. Not sure how to process and take it at face value. It’s hard for her to digest the fact that one of the most dangerous and violent men in the country wants her to believe that he’d never put his hands on her. That he’s not someone she needs to be scared of.
And she doesn't understand it, can’t comprehend how he can not be like every other man in her life. “W–why?”
“Cause unlike your piece of shit family, The Bloodline has morals. I’m not a good man, Solana, and I don’t pretend to be. But, I’ve never hit a woman, and I never will.” Roman never pictured himself having to explain to a woman why he has no desire to beat her. Yet, here he fucking is. “Real men don’t do that shit.”
Solana doesn’t know what to say to that, is still not sure what to say to any of it. But then, Roman is speaking again.
“It’s no secret. I have a temper, and that’s not going to change. I’m not going to change. Not for you, not for anyone.” Solana knows this, knows this very well, and understands it just as much. She would never expect him to change his ways, especially for the likes of her. “But, I—I’ll try to be mindful of it around you.”
That…..throws her for a loop. Why? Why would he do anything for her? What has she done to make him even feel like he should? Except stress him out and cause him unnecessary problems.
Roman continues, asserting, “but, you’ve gotta start fucking telling me shit. I need you to meet me halfway here. I need you to communicate with me. You can’t spend the rest of your life writing what you refuse to say out loud.”
She licks her lip, a nervous action, replying as best she can, “I’m not—I’m not used to—” She’s not used to people caring about her, caring about her wellbeing, and maybe that’s too strong and too inaccurate to describe what Roman is saying. It’s certainly how it feels though. “I—I’ll try.”
He seems pleased by this, probably not fully satisfied but enough for him to drop the subject. And she appreciates that, and is thankful for it. This day has already been a lot, too much. She’s so fucking tired.
Roman says nothing else, not that she needs him to, not that he needs to. But, as he stands up, turning to leave, she finds herself asking him, “where—where are you going?”
His answer is simple but ominous. “I told you. No one lays a hand on you.” He grabs his jacket off the sofa, sliding it on as he vows, “I’m gonna make sure everyone understands that shit from here on out.”
—-------
Asylums, historically, have been places of horror. Where the lives of so many end in cruel and undeserved ways. Screams and pleas falling on deaf ears, memories of terror forever etched in the walls and halls of a building that’s only seen suffering.
It’s a fitting name for Roman’s location for interrogation.
Torture. Because there is no being interrogated by the Tribal Chief. It’s just straight up, unadulterated torture. And truth be told, it’s a bit of a last, or maybe second resort. Killing someone in the moment is much easier, preferred. A shot to the head, a knife across the throat, even the snap of a neck. All much easier than methodical, drawn out ending of lives.
But some instances, some circumstances call for something more, something sinister, something lasting.
And that’s exactly what Theory and Waller are going to get.
By the time Roman walks into the building, sliding and tossing his jacket to the side, the twins have done a decent job roughing them up. One of them—he could never tell the difference—nor did he care or will it matter in a few hours, has a black eye that’s swollen shut. The other’s nose is crooked and bleeding, most likely broken. Their clothes are already stained with sweat, blood, and dirt.
They’re both tied down by their wrists and ankles that he can see have started to dig into their skin. Their chairs are situated opposite each other. Good. That’ll make this even better. Calmly, Roman walks over, snapping his finger as Jimmy and Jey step back, visibly pleased with their warm up.
He crouches down between them, looking back and forth between both with a smirk. “Gentleman, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” One of them, the taller of the two looks scared shitless while the other is glaring with idiotic defiance. Like he clearly thinks he and his friend are going to leave this building alive.
They’ll leave.
Just in pieces.
“I’m Roman.” His voice is slick ice. “Roman Reigns.” There’s a rush of adrenaline that soars through Roman’s big body seeing the fear flash in both sets of irises. Good. They should be fucking terrified. “But, I do know someone you have met.” His voice goes cold again. “My wife.”
“Actually, I saw you meet my wife, but you didn’t just meet her, did you?” Roman smiles, shaking his head. “Naw man….ya’ll did a hell of a lot more than that.”
Roman doesn’t need to have footage of just what happened in that locker room. He can paint the image all on his own, and it’s an image that makes his blood go cold. The footage of them in the hallway was damning enough. “You cornered her, didn’t you? You waited until she was alone and vulnerable and you harassed her. You sexually harassed her. My wife.”
Roman shrugs, looking between the two. “What ya’ll think should happen?” Their mumbled and grumbled voices are incoherent against the gags in their mouths. Laughing quietly, he continues, “now, now, I’m a fair Tribal Chief.” Roman stands up, walking over to the wall of tools and weapons laid out. He settles for the hunting knife. “So here’s what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna let you tell me which body part goes first.”
He motions for the twins to remove their gags and upon that removal, the defiant punk is the first to speak, “what the fuck is wrong with you!”
The other one, however, is damn near in tears. “Pl—please. We–we’re sorry.”
“Shut up, Grayson! He–he’s bluffing.” Theory, he thinks, decides to prolong his torture even longer by reiterateing, “we didn’t even fucking touch her. The bitch is ly—”
Roman sees red, again, most likely a buildup of the day's events. But, it’s pure rage that fills him as he slams the Buck 119 down against Theory’s left hand, cleanly slicing off four of his fingers.
Theory’s screams fill the room as the twins chuckle, Jey taunting, “who’s the bitch now, huh?”
Roman grabs his chin, vowing, “I’m gonna make you suffer the longest.”
“We didn’t hurt her, I swear.” Grayson is now crying, clearly ready to beg, plead, and whatever else it takes to get him out of this hell. “Austin just—he had her up against the locker, he–he pinned her, but we didn’t rape her. I swear!”
Grayson unintentionally paints a picture in Roman’s head of what he already figured is what happened, what he figured is what sent Solana into her traumatized state.
Big mistake.
Roman brings the knife down on both of Grayson’s thighs, intentionally aiming for near the top of his knees, his quadriceps, effectively rendering him permanently paralyzed. His screams of pain are music to Roman’s ears. Roman grabs him by his jaw, screaming, “who the fuck do you think you are! She’s mine! You hurt her and think I’m not gon break every bone in your fucking body? You don’t ever fuckin touch what’s mine! You understand me!”
The younger man is practically hysterical at this point. “Please….” Roman looks down, hit with the stench of urine, seeing that the one with the accent has pissed himself. Disgusted, he backs away, hitting the pathetic son of a bitch with a blow across his cheek that sends teeth flying out his mouth.
He turns back around, eyes focused on a now teary eyed Theory. “I was going to be fair, let you decide in which order I dismember you, but now…now I’m just gonna make you watch as I kill you both, piece by fucking piece."
He looks over at his cousins who seem completely unaffected and almost indifferent to the gruesome scene unfolding before them. “Jimmy.” Roman doesn’t hesitate, a sadistic smile on his handsome face. “Give me the saw.”
—------
Blood is such a pain in the ass to get out of almost everything.
Roman showered a good twenty minutes before leaving the Asylum, and he can still see specks of dried blood, or maybe it’s bone, or flesh.
There’s a sense of satisfaction that fills him though, that almost calms him as he imagines the look of pure terror and fright on their faces as he methodically took their lives, piece by piece. Well fucking deserved in Roman’s opinion.
And he’d do it all over again if he could.
Minus the blood and guts and shit, because that's just fucking annoying. Roman readies to take another shower, hitting the light switch near his bedroom door when he immediately notices the brown journal sitting in the middle of the bed.
There’s a second to pause and another second for him to realize he’s seen a similar book before. Solana. He’s seen her writing in one very close to the one on his bed.
Less apprehensive, Roman walks over to see it’s open to a page filled with neat writing he knows must belong to Solana.
Lifting it, he reads what she’s written.
Roman,
I know you don’t want me saying sorry anymore, and I know you want me to talk to you, but it’s really hard for me. I’m not used to this. I don’t know how to talk to you.
And I know you said I can’t write, but writing has always been the only way I can express myself, so I will try to talk to you more, but….until then, can I just write?
Solana
Right off the bat, Roman’s first and initial response is no.
Because why the fuck would he write like something out of a damn movie when she could just fucking talk to him?
But, that’s the thing, that’s exactly what she’s trying to express to him, that she can’t, that it’s too hard for her. Right now, at least. Because there’s also a promise, a promise to try to transition to more verbal communication, Roman’s preference.
Granted, he hates talking to most people in general, but it’s preferred over writing damn letters like the 1700s.
And then he thinks about it, recalling earlier today and the pure terror in her voice, the fear wracking her body so much so that she didn’t even realize she was this close to third degree burns. He has to be realistic here, realistic about what she is and isn’t capable of.
As frustratingly slow as it is, she is trying, in her own way. He can’t fault her for that.
Regardless of how he feels about it, this is the best she can do. For now. And he’ll hold her to working towards that, because growth doesn’t happen in comfort zones. She has to get used to being uncomfortable with new things. That’s just how it is.
But this….he can meet her halfway.
Grabbing a pen out his nightstand, Roman writes out his response, taking and laying it out on the kitchen island for her to see first thing in the morning.
Solana,
I recognize communication is challenging for you. If this is what works for you, I’ll do it. For now.
Do you work this weekend? If so, call off.
I’m taking you somewhere.
Also, there's nothing you can't tell me.
I promise you that.
Roman
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What are your best tips for making an OC? (IT'S ME AGAIN MUAHAHAHAHA)
I actually have some tips over here for fleshing out a character! :) Well it's more for fleshing out a character physically but the tips can be applied to general creation. Here are some more that might be helpful to think about:
🤯 ACTUALLY, DONT THINK TOO MUCH
This might seem like contradictory advice (because wait don't you HAVE to know everything about your charac?? Eh???) but what I mean by this is; if you have to really force something onto a character then it wasn't for that character to begin with. This applies to anything - names, likes, actions etc. The more you force, the more stiff and unnatural your charac is going to be, because at that point they will be less of an organic charac and more of a personal dress up doll you keep throwing things at. You and your audience are going to notice this.
Let things come naturally, if possible. If you have a thought and you're like "actually yes this is so my charac", that's exactly the type of feeling towards details you are aiming for.
📝 If you're feeling like something DOESN'T work, put it on the backburner and come back to it later to see how you feel about it. If you're still 🫤 about it then it's most likely not for that charac.
📷 KEEP IT REAL
I mentioned this in my other post and I'm going to mention it again because it is actually the best tip - pretend they are an actual person. What is important to them as AN ACTUAL PERSON? What would AN ACTUAL PERSON WITH THEIR PERSONALITY do in [x] situation? How would you describe this ACTUAL PERSON THAT YOU KNOW? You don't need an entire checklist but you should at least know the general gist of them.
When you do this, you naturally flesh out your charac and make them believable. You're also more likely to avoid the pitfall a lot of creators tend to trip into which is THIS TRAIT = ENTIRE PERSONALITY*.
*This means that a creator takes ONE element of their character and...makes it the entire character. For eg if the charac is gay, then everything else about the charac becomes secondary to the fact the charac is gay. This makes for very flat characs, as the thought process behind them then becomes "what would a GAY character do?" as opposed to "what would THIS character do?". Ideal for if you're legit trying to create an extremely tropey charac though I guess...
📝 Write elevator pitches for your characs and story. Elevator pitches distill the main essence of your characs and/or story into one succinct sentence.
💭 PICK A FEELING
If you're really stuck when developing your charac, it can be helpful to think about how you want your audience to perceive them, and how they need to be in order to achieve those feelings. The key concept of this tip is that you need to step back and look at your character from an audience viewpoint, and not from your own "this is my baby" rose-tinted lenses. Are you portraying your quirky character as fun and quirky to the audience or are you portraying them as annoying? Is your sassy character actually cool and sassy or are you portraying them as a raging jerkass bitch?
This helps in balancing your character so that you don't accidentally make a "likeable" protagonist that people actually hate or antagonists that are simply straw men.
📝 Get honest feedback from your friends about the kind of personality etc they think your character has. Does it correlate with your view/your intended perception of them?
#character design#ref#character design tips#mariemariemariemariemariemarie#sorry i dont have any art for this lol#sz#long post
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Breaking Barriers*
Summary: Y/N is in her mid-twenties and still a virgin, but she decides she no longer wants to wait for marriage as the tension between her and her best friend rises.
Pairing: Bestie!Harry x Virgin!Y/N
Word count: 9.1K
Warnings: Protected sex, smut, p in v, deflowering, virginity talk, first times, oral f receiving.
Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗
Support my work by joining my Patreon!
A/N: Welcome to day 8 of posting daily! Ayooo, this was requested multiple times and I actually think it turned out sooo stinking cute omfg.
Being in her mid-twenties and a virgin is something not many people can say, let alone be proud of. It's something that Y/N chose and could have changed at any time. She could've given it away and tossed it to the next attractive man who looked her way but she didn't. She decided to save herself for marriage, even if it seemed stupid and cliché to some people.
For Y/N, her first time was important. It was a milestone in her life. Her body is a temple. It is to be cherished, worshipped, and honoured. Like most women, she wanted her first time to be something she wouldn't forget. She wanted it to be special and done with someone she loved and trusted.
So, Y/N waited. And if waiting for marriage meant skipping out on hook-ups? Then that was just fine by her. No sweat off her back. It took a while, but she was sure when she met the right guy it'd all be worth it.
Now, she wasn't opposed to making out and getting frisky. Y/N is as attracted to men as the next person and isn't afraid to have some fun with it, it just doesn't go much beyond hands. She sees kissing and touching that isn't penetrative to be healthy and normal.
Getting a partner, however, was the tricky bit. Most of them want to go all the way and have sex before they even get to know each other and the rest either take her for granted or have this kink about it, they like the thought of fucking a 'treasure' that no one's ever had or touched before.
Either way, she usually ends up losing interest in the relationship quickly. It seems the right man to spend the rest of her life with was a rare find. She didn't know if it was possible or if her expectations were too high. Or perhaps, being picky was the problem.
Eventually, she accepted it would take time for her to find someone. A time that she was willing and able to give. And right now, it was just a waiting game. To meet the guy whose arm she'd want to loop with hers for the rest of her life and create a beautiful life together in the process.
Just as Y/N was nodding off to sleep, a series of notifications on her phone rudely interrupted her sleep. Furrowing her brows, she sat up and lifted the device from her bedside table.
The screen lit up and showed who was texting her. It was her best friend, Harry. She slid her finger across the screen and a mess of messages appeared.
Harry Hi! *drunk selfie* So are we playing Scrabble tomorrow? I miss you and want to see you
Y/N If you still remember tomorrow and want to, sure.
Harry Sweet. Whatcha up to?
Y/N At home. About to go to sleep
Harry Oh sorry. You were probably sleeping
Y/N You're fine. I only just got into bed.
Harry What are you wearing, love?
Y/N Don't make me block you
Harry Ow ;( Why?
Y/N I'm too sober to have this conversation with you.
Harry *picture of him and Y/N* Look at us all cute, drunk out of our minds.
Y/N Very cute. Goodnight, Harry.
Harry Hey, one more question before you dooooooze
Y/N Go on.
Harry What are you wearing?
“Idiot.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself. With a few quick button presses, Y/N replied with a picture of her in her silk pyjamas, and then sent an audio message: “I'm fully clothed, in bed, covered with my duvet, about to sleep and dream of ways to torture you.”
She puts her phone down so she can actually catch up on her rest. Just as her head hits the pillow again, she gets another message from Harry. Pouting, she swiftly opens the message and swipes up the audio.
“Aww, you'll dream of me?”
For some reason, Y/N can hear a smug smirk in his voice and decides to just ignore it. Putting her phone on silent and plopping it back down on her bedside table, Y/N yawns and snuggles deeper under the covers.
Just as her eyelids begin to shut for good, something within her is stirring that makes it hard for her to sleep. Y/N feels hot all of a sudden, making her shimmy and pull the duvet up further.
What had happened in those final moments of her text conversation with Harry, who was now busy scrolling through pictures of the two together and rereading their texts? Well, it seemed it's woken up a side of her she wasn't too familiar with. Resting her hand on the front of her silk shorts, Y/N could feel she was wet and aching for some touch.
“For fuck sake.” She cursed and closed her eyes. Why now? She thinks as she pulls her hand away, afraid to do anything. She knows why, but doesn't want to admit it.
It's because of Harry. His ridiculous flirting skills have managed to push a few buttons. This has never happened before. Why is he suddenly affecting her? She blames his goofy but heartfelt selfie. God, those hazel eyes looked perfect paired with that signature golden brown fluffy mop of hair, the stupid look on his face and the two fingers up in the air.
Y/N can't deny she is attracted to Harry. What wasn't to be attracted to? When it came to his personality, she was rather fond. He has always been sensitive, goofy and yet extremely smart and serious when needed. And, of course, she couldn't forget to mention how lucky he is. That boy was drop-dead gorgeous. From his curly locks to his biceps, she can go on and on and on about what she liked about him.
His looks definitely played a factor in his reputation with women and it was no surprise their friendship became somewhat of a hot topic with his fans. If only they knew the truth. There was nothing going on between the two other than a strong friendship.
Harry is an absolute gentleman to her. He took care of her in a way that set her standards very high when it comes to men, maybe that's why she still hasn't found a man. However, the sexual tension that had been building up lately between the two was another story.
It was no secret that Harry is a good kisser. The amount of stories she has heard made her feel a twinge of jealousy every time. She remembered thinking how nice it would be to feel what his lips were like on hers, how soft they would be and how they would taste. He's always bragging about the tongue action that gets women all hot and bothered. Then, she wondered how good he would be using his mouth elsewhere and- No. She can't think like this. Stop. It's creepy and weird. So just, stop.
Then, her phone beeps again in her hand, indicating another message coming from Harry. A rush of warmth spread through her stomach and Y/N noticed she was tense again. Biting down on her bottom lip, she opened the message.
Harry *drunk selfie on the side of his bed* I'm home, goodnight love
She stares at the picture, her stomach dropping. Heat swells through her body and the feeling overwhelms her, making her squirm against the soft sheets. Swallowing, she holds the phone up higher and glares at the picture intensely, the area between her legs clenching. It's not as if he looks amazing. No. He looks grumpy, his brows furrowed and a blank stare in his eyes. He just looks so cute, kissable even.
“Enough.” She whispers under her breath and shoves the device back down onto the nightstand. She gets up and goes to the bathroom, turning the faucet and splashing cold water all over her burning skin.
Tomorrow is going to be interesting. Seeing him after her fantasies of him invading her thoughts would be an interesting development. Hopefully, it will fizzle away quickly and everything will go back to normal. Y/N thinks, getting back into bed and fixing her pillows just so. With a drawn-out sigh, she puts out the lights and shuts her eyes. ***
In the morning, there was only one thought running through Y/N's mind, and that was seeing Harry. Even after she woke up, went about her day, she couldn't wait to text him to see if he even remembered the arrangement for her to come over and play Scrabble.
With each message sent, she left an expectant eye trained on her screen, waiting for the three little dots to bubble up and indicate a response. Meanwhile, she paced back and forth between her couch and the kitchenette, tidying up without knowing why. Everything was already spotless. She straightened pillows, fluffed rugs, sorted candles, and shuffled trinkets, anything to distract herself and keep from pestering Harry.
After a few hours of constant upkeep, she finally gets a response.
Harry Sorry I missed your messages, kinda had a wild night lol Are we still playing tonight? I have wine, you got the Scrabble?
Y/N We're playing but the question is... will you be in a fit state for it ;)
Harry Ha-ha. Funny.
Y/N Always. See you later. X
Harry See you. I'll leave the front door open for you. Byeeeee
And that was it. The brief conversation between the two fuelled her emotions. On one hand, she was completely thrilled to be seeing her best friend again. To be in his presence and enjoy a wonderful game night is very exciting.
On the other hand, she felt a wave of dread overcome her, her heart racing at the thought. She brushed it off. Ignored it. Why should she be dreading seeing one of her best friends? That's absurd.
Scrapping her plan of getting all dolled up to go visit him, Y/N finds herself only comfortable enough to get changed into leggings and a t-shirt. Although Harry has seen her in her casual attire, she is feeling oddly self-conscious right now. She doesn't know why and it's getting rather irritating.
He is her best friend for God's sake! If anything, she should be feeling as comfortable and confident around him as possible because he will always accept her for the way she is.
Shaking her head, she gets ready to make her way to his house. Despite it being 3 pm, Y/N grabs a bottle of her favourite white and puts it in her bag and with that, she is out the door.
Upon arrival, she reaches for the door and opens it. Peering around the door frame, she manages to catch sight of Harry stepping out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
He is humming under his breath as he tousles his damp curls with the towel. Strolling across the room to his bedroom, he disappears behind the door.
“Hey, Harry!” She calls out to him as she enters. Smiling brightly, she drops her bag on his countertop.
“Hey.” He calls back. “Give me a sec. I'll be out in a minute.”
Y/N nods, despite him not being able to see it, and makes her way to his sofa, taking her usual spot at one end. Closing her eyes, she rests her head back and takes a deep breath. She already feels exhausted from the many random things she has done throughout the day.
“Do you want to eat first or play first?” Harry finally walks into the living room, wearing a grey sweatsuit.
Peeking through an eyelid, Y/N says. “I'm not hungry. It's still early“ while her inner-self cheered at his appearance, making her giddy.
With a nod, Harry pulled two glasses from the kitchen cabinet placing them on the coffee table. Sliding down next to her, he opened the bottle and poured their drinks. While he set up the board game, she relaxed and casually looked him over. He looked gorgeous as ever, and always put together even if he was barely dressed.
Green eyes flicking up to catch her gaze, Harry chuckles softly before asking. “Nervous?”
“Huh? Why would I be nervous?” Her mouth corners turn up, her heart fluttering.
“Last time we played you weren't very happy.” He shrugged, reminding her how he completely beat her at the game.
“Right. But this time, I'm going to beat you.” She confidently nods and picks up a bag of letters. Harry leans over with a smug smirk on his face as he pulls his own bag.
“Hmm, so confident.” He snorts, lining up his tiles.
“Mhm.” Y/N straightens out her tiles.
Quirking a brow, Harry wonders “Famous last words?”
With a sharp nod and a cheeky smile, she places her first tiles down on the Scrabble board. “Nah, you're going down.”
Harry chokes on his drink and starts coughing, his eyes burning a hole into hers. Staring back, Y/N raised a curious brow. Once he could speak again, he cleared his throat and let out a hearty laugh.
“Alright, so what if I am?” Harry's thick accent cut through as a deep dimpled grin blossomed on his face. She found her heart rate increasing and had to look away, willing her red cheeks to go away.
Swallowing, she began her game. The opening word of DOUBLE wasn't too promising for Y/N, seeing that that was her highest scoring word but she wasn't giving up just yet.
Over the first few minutes, they managed to put down a few good words and Y/N was ahead with a more than decent lead.
“Shit.” Harry breathed, leaning forward to assess his words. His eyes flickered around the board before sighing and ruffling his tousled mop. “I'm fucked.”
Y/N chuckles and rolls her eyes, taking another sip from her glass. Glancing over to Harry who was deep in thought, Y/N reached up and scratched the nape of her neck with one hand, her gaze drifting around the room. As she turned to face him again, she was caught off guard when their eyes immediately locked. Her heart stuttered.
Tearing her eyes away from his gaze, Y/N shifted uncomfortably, then decided to lean forward to select a letter at random. As she placed it on the board, she looks at him once more to find that the corner of his mouth curled upwards.
'Shit' she thought, Harry wasn't playing fair. Surely, he knew that looking at her like that made her drop focus. Attempting to save her dignity, she bit her bottom lip, suppressing a shy smile before raising an eyebrow.
“Is this your strategy to beat me?” Y/N challenged. “Suck me into your sexiness and take my turn? How lame.”
Harry spluttered, taken aback by her comment. He didn't really know how to respond, seeing his best friend make an unashamedly flirtatious comment for the first time. Looking away, he fiddled with his hoop earring.
“Wait. Was that... was that supposed to fluster me, Y/N?” He playfully scoffed. As Harry turned to look at her, he was surprised to find an amused grin playing on her lips. He thought he would find at least a small glint of guilt in her eyes for her playfulness, and was surprised when he didn't find anything other than playful curiosity.
Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it looks like I've got the upper hand now.”
“You wish.” Harry stared back at her for a moment longer, a playful glimmer in his eyes. A mischievous smirk curled up on the corner of his lips. She was aware that the lighthearted banter had led to a bit more, making her senses go crazy.
Y/N decided it's best to end the conversation there and start her round. Scanning the board, she's looking for a spot to place her letters. Wanting to lean a bit into their flirty banter from before, she decides to continue their tension with a bit of teasing.
Sifting her hand into her bag, she pulls out a few letters. Placing them onto the centre of the board where they intersect, she spells out 'erotic' and draws four points from the tile rack.
Erotic was an interesting word to play, for sure. Especially when it's put into the context of the new sexual tension between the two. So far, Harry has been trying to fluster her with his smouldering looks and cheeky grins, but Y/N is unrelenting. She takes pride in her willingness to fight back against the flirting and his attempts to get her distracted.
She sits back in satisfaction, proud at what she has accomplished. Glancing over to Harry, she felt herself swell with self-pride to see his face light up with surprise, making him actually speechless for a change.
Clearing his throat, Harry gathers himself and sits up. “Hmm.” he hummed, rolling the idea around in his head. With a smug grin, Y/N could tell he's thinking of a response; a comeback. After a few seconds of consideration, he moved his body forward and added three letters to the word. Using the letters he had received on the double letter area, he spelled out 'climax' using the c of her word.
A slight shiver went down Y/N's back at the addition to the word. Laughing and rolling her eyes, she fished out a few letters and added another word. Subtly shifting a little closer to him, she placed her letters down on the right-hand side of his spelling, close to his hand. After putting down her 'desire', she snatched her eyes away from the scrabble board and fixed her stare on him.
Both of them stay awfully silent while their bodies are almost touching. Y/N is tense, trying hard not to breathe too heavily. Meanwhile, Harry was in complete silence, not knowing what to say or do. He is aware of the tension between the two of them but he also wants to respect Y/N's boundaries and maybe tone down his feelings a bit. There's an inevitable tension and she's showing no sign of easing off. Harry was only further proven by her gentle voice in his ear.
“Now whose turn is it?”
Unable to meet her eyes just yet, he focuses on the dizzying words on the board and releases a slow, staggered breath. It was so hard not to put his arm around her, tug her in close and inhale her beautiful scent. Or run his hands along her arms, giving them a gentle squeeze, he craved the touch so badly. He finally took a breath and peered down at his letters, trying not to get too distracted by the growing sexual tension.
Y/N couldn't deny the feeling of warmth that had settled in her stomach since their game began, the warmth that made her tingle between her legs. She felt tempted to reach out and touch him, make contact and hopefully send a good buzz all the way down to his lower body.
Harry's fingers fiddle through his letters, barely paying attention to the little pieces in front of him. His eyes glance at Y/N, then move back to the Scrabble board. He thinks of his next word to play, something that is a little more suggestive.
“Umm...” Harry holds up a little tile, rubbing his fingertip over the surface as he thinks, his dimples pushing into his cheeks. Then, they sink right back out. He shakes his head and returns to sifting through the multiple letters in his bag.
Throwing one piece back into the depths of the bag, his index finger picks up another tile. The corner of his mouth turns up and he is finally confident with what he wants to spell out on the Scrabble board, so he gets to work. He needs an outlet from the fluttering of his chest when she's this close.
Quickly placing down the letters, he spells out the word 'horny'. Biting down on his bottom lip, he feels satisfied by the suggestiveness of his word and glances at Y/N.
Pursing her lips, Y/N tilts her head and gives a disbelieving smile. Harry looks taken aback by her quiet response.
“What? Did I read the room wrong?” He chuckles nervously, brows furrowing.
Looking at his face, she has to bite back a grin. She can read the mixed emotions all over his face. He's afraid to scare her away and reveal his true feelings, especially after the intense game of teasing. He's right. But she's also very pleased with the growing tension.
With a cheeky chuckle, she shakes her head. “No, I guess you read the room correctly.” Biting her lip, she quickly leans forward, adding letters next to his word on the right to spell out the word, 'Fuck'. Harry looks from her to the board, biting back a smirk.
“Is this your way of suggesting we play strip Scrabble? Should I get ready to lose my pants?” he jokes, nudging her shoulder, fighting the urge to break his boundaries. Not able to cope, Y/N just lets out a forced chuckle.
“Shut up, H.” Her voice broke. All she wanted was to feel his hands on her and bury herself into his chest.
Neither of them is paying attention to the score or to the other's gaze, they just lock their eyes together and absorb the heat, trying to predict what happens next. Harry didn't know what to say, nor did he think Y/N would, yet again, follow suit and gently lean forward.
After breaking from their little intimate session, Y/N looks at the board, wondering what their next move should be. She has to admit, these last few moves were very suggestive, and she is slowly catching Harry's point of wanting to touch her and have some alone time.
“Are you going to be mad at me if I do this?” Y/N muttered.
“Do what?”
Staring at him, Y/N ignores the thought and puts her tiles in a new spot. Only this time, she's adding all the letters remaining in her tile bag. There is no going back now, considering the board was almost completely filled up now.
She spells out the word 'wet' next to her first word. Shooting Harry a nonchalant, calm expression and staring at him for a reaction, she saw his reaction immediately. His eyes dropped to the board, then shot back up to her face. Heat, lust, and want flashed across his eyes.
An amused, surprised noise escapes his throat, then his lips tilt up into a shit-eating grin. “For real?”
“Yeah.” Y/N laughs in a rush. “I guess my dirty mind kicked in.”
“Your dirty mind, huh?” A glint of excitement flashes through his eyes and he begins to eye her body up and down. He can't deny the growing urge to touch every inch of her but he can't break her boundaries. Trying to erase those thoughts, Harry grins playfully, then adds a few of his own letters alongside her tiles to play a different word even though he knows he already lost the game.
Giving her a mischievous look, he reveals the word 'boner' and Y/N inhales sharply. They sit in silence for a moment, then Y/N cracks and breaks the silence.
“Oh fuck.” She laughs, the deep seated sensation between her legs not fading. Her eyes scan down to Harry's crotch, attempting to see if what he said is true. It's getting increasingly obvious that Y/N and Harry aren't actually playing a game anymore. Harry places his hands on his lap, covering his crotch from her wandering eyes. He laughs nervously, avoiding her gaze.
“I'm sorry.” He mutters, afraid of her response and of what she thinks.
Y/N bites her lip, unsure of how to respond. He waited anxiously for her reaction. One thing was for certain, the sexual tension has grown to unimaginable levels, the game forgotten. Finally, she glances back up at him, and she couldn't keep herself in control any longer.
Leaning closer, Y/N rests her forehead on his. He is taken aback, not moving a muscle. Shutting her eyes, she leans in to kiss him. Their lips connect and they close their eyes, relishing the moment. After a couple of seconds, they pull back, not sure whether that was the right decision. Her insides tell her to keep going, to taste him more. So with half a mind, her arm reaches forward to grab his shirt, wanting him closer and craving the touch. She looks up at his face and goes in for a much longer, sensual kiss as she straddles his lap.
For a moment, Harry looks at her questioningly before diving back in. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, it deepens the kiss as they feel electricity course through their bodies. His arms make their way down her sides and he squeezes her thighs as she unconsciously grinds on him. One of his hands run up her back, gripping her hair lightly while the other hand grips her waist. A quiet moan escapes Y/N's throat at his grip on her, further adding fuel to his fire. He gives a low growl before breaking the kiss and trailing his lips down her jaw to her neck, leaving love bites down her skin.
“God, you're killing me, Y/N. Do you know that?” He groans into her, making her giggle a bit. Harry's heart burst with joy when he heard her laugh, she's the only person who could make him happy. He pulls back and grins at her then leans back in, kissing her sweetly and lifting her up. Y/N grips his shirt tightly, not wanting to be apart from him. Placing her on her back, he carefully gets on top of her, supporting his weight so he doesn't squish her, and his hands started roaming her body. Suddenly, she pushes him off of her a little and sits back up, feeling dizzy and wanting to gain her composure. Their hearts beat in synchrony and their breaths were heavy.
Harry is concerned by her quick push back, worry in his eyes. “I'm sorry, did I do anything wrong?”
“Are you kidding? That was great. I just... I..” Stuttering over her words, Y/N can't help but giggle as she ruffles her hair and leans against the throw pillow behind her. Harry is now assured that she is okay. Leaning forward, he kisses the side of her head, trying to soothe her so she'd be comfortable enough to tell him. “I want more.” She finally utters.
There was a beat of stunned silence. He shakes his head as his lips curve up into a small smirk. She mimics his expression. Lifting her chin up with his fingers, she meets his gaze. Both of them look down at her plump, red, and wet lips. Then he captures her lips with his, but not with so much restraint as before. He kisses her more passionately, hands cupping her face as he tasted her, kissed her harder, swiped his tongue against hers.
“Are you absolutely sure, Y/N? There's no going back from this.” He breathes against her lips.
Looking into his soft eyes, she can't think about anything else but him and his touch. Deep down, she always knew there was more. As she tilts her head to the side, she bites her lip and runs her hands through his hair. The feeling is a sweet relief, it is exactly how it looked and felt, just like in her dreams.
“I know. I think I've always known it was you. You're too captivating. You make me crazy.” She chuckles, blushing. “Also..” Placing her hands on his chest, she continues. “If I wasn't interested, I wouldn't be doing all this right now.” Y/N breathes, making him grin from ear to ear.
“What about waiting until marriage though? Are you sure you want to do this?”
Giggling, Y/N nods her head and bites her lip, wanting more. “Screw that.”
A shocked expression flickers across his face. Shrugging his shoulders, he leans closer. Y/N's breath hitches as Harry gently pushes her back down on the sofa, propping his forearms on either side of her head to support his weight, and placing his legs between hers. They felt each other's breath as their chests rise and fall with each in-take, anticipating what would happen next.
“Is this okay? Are you really sure, because once we start, I won't be able to stop.” His face inches closer, scanning every inch of her expression, her beautiful eyes and lips before stopping halfway.
Giving him a quick kiss, she nods and runs a hand through his hair again, then bites her lip while gazing at his seductive eyes. Her body trembles with excitement and nervousness. Trying to catch her breath, her mind is drowning in lust. She's just happy that they're alone and, after many years of dreaming about this day, the second it is finally here she is loving it.
“I'm very sure. In fact, why don't we go somewhere more...comfortable?” She whispers into his ear. Dizzy and sweating, Harry feels the bulge in his pants tightening, pressing against the fabric of his boxers as he smirks in agreement. Hastily lifting her in his arms, he crashes his lips to hers, missing their intoxicating touch.
Without pausing for thought, Y/N wraps her legs around Harry's waist as he supports her with his strong arms and makes his way towards his bedroom. Tossing her on the bed, she yelps playfully.
“Are you okay?” Harry's worried face appears in front of her. Shocked and caught off guard, Y/N bites back a smile as she pulls his shirt to collide his lips with hers again. She found herself breathing hard, unable to control it. He pulled back, meeting her eyes.
Y/N sat up slightly, reached down, and began slowly pulling Harry's shirt up his torso. The material bunched up under his arms and she broke the kiss, to slip the material off. With her pulse increasing as the intimacy heightened, she raked her eyes up his smooth, lightly bronzed, chest and torso. It was a beautiful sight. Pulling her eyes back up to his gorgeous eyes, his darkened with desire as he raised his brows in question. Instead of replying, Y/N pushed lightly on his chest, telling him without words to lie back on the bed. With his gaze never leaving hers, he lay back and waited.
Keeping the eye contact, Y/N pushed herself up and straddles over Harry's lap. His hands automatically came to rest on her thighs, the touch sending bolts of energy through her. Harry was such a tease and the way he touched her and glanced up at her was enough to get her off right there. All it would take is one little touch.
With excitement, Y/N pulls her own shirt over her head, exposing her bra for the first time to him. Of course, he had seen her in a bikini before. But the lace see-through fabric of her bra is completely different and it gets him wild. Harry watches carefully as Y/N bites her lip and leans down. Connecting their lips, she can feel his erection pressing against her.
Straddling his hips to meet his arousal, she begins to run her hands down his arms, squeezing firmly and drawing a low sound from his lips. Her body rubs up against Harry's erection and he gives a deep, low groan. Not once breaking the kiss, their hunger intensified for one another.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N presses her chest up against his and his hand slowly roams around to grab her ass, giving it a soft squeeze, making her moan. His hands then reach a bit up, sticking his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and pulling the fabric over her ass. Y/N arches her hips a bit, allowing her leggings to come off a little further.
Harry lets his hands roam up her back as Y/N nibbles on his bottom lip, slowly grinding her sex into his. His hand nudges against her thigh, motioning for her to get off of him so he can take the leggings all the way down her legs. He slides the fabric down Y/N's thighs and knees and her leggings pool at her ankles. Seeing her bare legs, he can tell just how wet she is right now. She hastily kicks off the leggings, letting them fall to the floor.
Watching her closely, his eyes scan her body, taking in the full view. She can't deny how happy she is to see Harry admiring her, appreciating what he sees, loving all of her. It's exactly what she wanted, a man to worship her, to feel loved. And Harry makes her feel those exact things and so much more.
Pushing his hips up, he quickly gets rid of his own sweatpants before he guides her back to straddle him again. One of Harry's large hands glides along Y/N's thighs to her hips before snaking around to her lower back, where he applies a slight pressure, encouraging her to grind against him.
“You're going to be the end of me.” Harry chuckles, bucking up slightly to meet her grinding hips. The feeling drives her wild as the fabric of his boxers brushes up against her lace panties.
“Harry.” Y/N moans, letting herself move in sync with Harry's perfect thrusts. Feeling Y/N's wetness seeping through her panties and onto his boxers, the friction building between their heat is burning, and he needs more of her. But he wants her to set the pace. His lips part and their eyes stay locked together. Their heart rates are picking up and their movement speeds up. The slow build was like a torture, but Harry looks so damn gorgeous and lustful, making it worth it.
“We're really doing this.” Y/N whispers out with a giggle.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“Yes.” She mumbles, smiling. Y/N pushes herself up a bit, hands bracing on his chest, and spreads her legs a bit more so she can angle her center more. Then she slowly grinds into him. His teeth capture his lip and his eyes shift to take in the movement of their bodies. Harry's hands leave Y/N's hips and he grasps her ass, holding her as she rides him. Grinding harder and faster, Y/N is enjoying the sweet sensation it's giving her. Little sounds leave her mouth as she swivels her hips.
Sitting up and pressing her chest into his, Harry grabs her hips tighter and pulls her down, bucking his hips up for friction and creating a delicious burn. Looking up to her face, she has the hottest expression he has ever seen. If she keeps staring at him like that, he thinks he might burst. There is no way he's going to last much longer, which is why he needs to take care of her first.
Slowing down the pace, Harry slides his fingers up her back and takes a hold of her bra clasp. “May I?” He asks in a hoarse voice. A light glaze shines in his eyes as he keeps the eye contact with her.
“Yes.” Y/N smiles, nuzzling her face into his. Leaning down, she carefully kisses him before sitting back. “I want you so much, Harry.” She admits, to his surprise.
“Oh fuck.” Harry swears, bucking his hips up for friction. Groaning and rubbing his erection as well as he undoes the clasp of her bra and it loosens around her body. Slowly slipping it off, the fabric slides down her arms, exposing her breasts. Harry stops breathing for a moment, admiring the view and absolutely loving it.
“You're absolutely gorgeous, Y/N. I couldn't get you off my mind if I tried.” He confesses, meeting her gaze, causing the girl to blush immensely. Moving his hands up her sides and sliding them up her stomach to her boobs, her mind begins to race as she feels herself getting more and more wet.
Harry's calloused fingertips brush over her hardened nipples, his lustful eyes still gazing into hers as her jaw goes slack. Grinding her hips faster and moving them to a steady rhythm, the both of them pant as their desire grows, aching for more. Throwing her head back with a moan, Harry's lips suddenly latch on to one of her soft nipples. Her hand cups the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair as she sucks.
“Harry, I need you, please.” She whimpers, begging him. The desperate tone of her voice makes Harry shudder, a familiar hot tightness coiling inside him, threatening to unravel as she rides him. He is swift to lay her down on his soft bed, her head on his pillow, then gets back to her breasts, sliding a hand down to her panties. Harry kisses a trail of butterfly kisses down her body, leaving marks down her abdomen as he does so. Her fingers go back to grasping his hair and pulling lightly as he makes it to the top of her panties.
“Can I take these off?” Harry pants, yanking the waistband a bit. He slips his fingers inside and gently strokes her pubic bone over her panties, teasing her. Y/N eagerly nods her head, pulling his hair slightly and guiding him lower. He bites his lip and tugs her underwear down her thighs as she helps kick them off. The sight before Harry made his jaw drop, leaving him breathless.
Y/N is incredibly wet, her fluids are dripping down her thighs, no hair blocking the way for him. Harry inhales sharply, running his finger through her folds and collecting her juice. Raising his hand to her face, he shows her. Feeling incredibly timid all of a sudden, she blushes and squeezes her legs shut.
“Hush now. You're perfect, so beautiful and bare for me.” Harry insists and peppers her knees with kisses. She parts her legs a bit wider for Harry. “Good girl, Y/N.”
Licking his lips, Harry traces his thumbs up her inner thighs and kisses her exposed clit. A spark flows through her body as Harry closes his eyes, getting lost in the exquisite taste of her arousal. The feeling is completely new to Y/N, she's not sure how to respond or what to do. At the same time, everything he does feels so good. Harry licks over her folds, running his tongue from the bottom to the tip. Her hands turn into fists, tugging at his brown hair as she draws a sharp breath.
A little too shy to make any noises as Harry teases Y/N's clit with the tip of his tongue. Her legs start to shake and she quickly covers her mouth with her hand as she lets out a needy moan. Harry grasps her wrist, pulling it away from her mouth.
“Don't be afraid. I want to hear you.” The thought of Y/N covering her mouth or muffling her sounds and keeping quiet bothers him a bit. Y/N lets out a little gasp and nods quickly. Without breaking eye contact, Harry presses his flattened tongue against her clit and licks until Y/N's vision starts to swim.
“Harry.” Y/N moans as Harry flattens his tongue, licking up her slit while he inserts a finger.
“Keep telling me how you feel. It's incredibly sexy.”
“Feels... Incredible.” She manages to get out before she squeezes her eyes shut. Harry responds by wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking gently. Inserting a second finger, he curls them against her G-spot while he twirls and flicks his tongue quickly.
“Y-yes.” Y/N cries out when Harry discovers her sweetest spot. Harry smirks and presses his fingers deeper while he continues using his mouth.
Keeping up with the swift motions of his tongue, his nose rubbing her clit a bit, Y/N's toes begin to curl and her heels dig into his mattress. Harry can't help but let out a low growl as the girl in front of him moans at a high pitch.
“H-Harry.” She whimpers between quick pants. Her stomach suddenly tightens as a ball of warmth spreads, soon making her go weak in the legs. Flicking his eyes up to watch her orgasm, he lets the heat spiral through her. His thrusts slow down as her insides pulsate, and he gets dizzy, feeling pretty smug. It feels like an explosion between her legs, so Y/N can't stop herself from grinding on his face to prolong her pleasure.
“See how gorgeous you are when you come for me?” Harry breathes after she catches her breath, gazing deep into her eyes and rubbing soft circles on her clit with his middle and pointerfinger.
His eyes were soft, but dark with lust, the expression in them shifting slightly as she stared at him. She could see his hardened nipples and defining tent of his boxers. Still on cloud nine, her cheeks feel hot and her body is radiating immense pleasure.
She wants to initiate the next move but she simply doesn't know where to start. Instead, Harry decides for her. Getting rid of his last piece of clothing, Y/N watches closely as he reveals his completely naked self. He kicks off his boxers and climbs back on the bed, hovering over her.
“What do you want to do next?” He asks in between kisses. Biting her lip in nervousness, she places her hands on his chest and kisses him.
“I don't know. Do you want me to return the favour?” She suggests with a sheepish smile, but Harry shakes his head.
“I want you to feel good. No favours you need to return unless you really want to.” He returns her offer with a gentle smile. She feels herself blush as his words run through her.
“Do you think...” She pauses and Harry swallows hard at the sound of her timid voice. “Do you want to try it?”
For a moment Harry is confused before her words begin to sink in. She wasn't very specific but there was no need for that. With his heart about to jump out of his throat, he understands right away and nods.
His eyes catch hers, and they smile in relief, happy to enjoy each other. Her mind runs wild as he kneels up for a moment to retrieve a condom from his nightstand. When he does so, her eyes run down his abs and back to his dark gaze. He tears the foil and puts the condom on his erection, the sight of him doing it making her want him even more.
“Are you absolutely sure?” He wonders, adjusting her on the bed so they're both comfortable. Swallowing hard, she nods, wanting this to happen. He asks her over and over to make sure she's sure of what she wants. She admits she's a bit nervous to do this for the first time, but she's 100% positive she wants to go through with this.
“Tell me to stop and I will, I promise.” Positioning himself, Y/N feels his breath on her lips as she gives him an enthusiastic nod. Smiling down at her, Harry pushes into her tight hole, going at a very slow and gentle speed so he doesn't hurt her. She was nervous, but his touch and actions helped keep her calm. He pushes his hips forward slightly, making Y/N whimper. Reaching up to caress his cheek with a sigh, the intimate contact giving him the strength to push into her as carefully as possible.
Being incredibly gentle with her, he hovers over her, eyes looking deeply into hers and soft sounds coming from his mouth, staying like that for a long time. Burying himself deep within her, Harry is completely still for a moment. The feeling of fullness and the sudden pressure is the best she's ever had. Finally able to fully relax, Y/N presses her lips against Harry's.
“You can move.” She breathes, to his great joy. The feeling of the heat of her pussy enveloping his erection sent a shiver down his spine. Gradually sliding out slowly, she feels her body moving in rhythm. Inch by inch, he eases himself back into her with a low hiss.
Harry clenches the sheets beneath them as he slowly builds his pace to a smooth rocking, groaning with her when his cock hits the end of her, causing little electric sparks up her spine. Harry sits up and grabs hold of her hips, her arms flying up to cover her chest in the process.
“Jesus, your pussy's so tight, feels so good.” Harry comments in a strained voice as he holds her hips tighter and guides her to rock into his thrusts. Y/N moves her arms back down, her hands trying to find something to grip as her walls clench tightly, making Harry thrust a bit harder. Squeezing the sheets, Y/N moans again.
“H-Harry. Oh! Please, faster.” Picking up the speed, Harry begins to shake as he pumps his hips harder. She rolls her head back, mouth wide open as the sweet build of an orgasm starts to rise in the pit of her stomach.
Grasping her hips tighter, he's practically spilling out all kinds of wonderful things as she cries out again and again. The lust takes over, sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through her body.
His hand reaches down to rub her clit. Biting on her lip, her walls convulse and her breathing becomes heavy. They both stop breathing altogether when she arches her back sharply, getting in on their rhythm, pounding harder into her core. The warmth keeps building, coursing through her veins and through every cell.
“Oh, Harry. I'm gonna...”
“I know, baby.” He interjects as she writhes beneath him. Hitting that sacred spot inside her with each thrust, she doesn't think she'll be able to hold it in much longer. She wraps her legs around his waist, creating a deeper angle. It's absolutely amazing. She never wants it to end. Her toes curl and her eyelids flutter, taking it all in.
“I can't... Harry.” She exclaims breathlessly, and then screams out, repeating his name.
“You can, Y/N. Look at me. Let go and come for me.” Hearing his raspy voice and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, combined with the sound of his encouraging words drives her even more crazy, almost at the edge. She knows she'll fall down into a complete state of bliss any minute now. Grinding her hips harder, holding on for dear life and digging her nails into his back. She's squeezing him with her walls, everything seemed to melt together into an incredible cocktail of pleasure as she shouts out his name and comes on his cock. He keeps fucking her, keeping her orgasm going even after it came to an end.
When she regains the control over her body, she lowers her legs from around his body.
“Oh, Harry, that was amazing.” A lazy smile spreads across his face and their eyes lock, the both of them panting from her height.
“Do you want to try another position?” He inquires, leaving Y/N with a curious yet excited look on her face. Y/N nods with a faint “Yeah.” and the corners of his mouth tilt upward. With that, he pulls out, an unexplainable sense of emptiness filling Y/N, and she watches as he pushes her onto her stomach, taking a hold of her legs. Harry nuzzles his face into her neck, whispering sweet praises in her ear as he eases her into their next position.
Leaning up on her hands, he raises her onto her knees and steadies her position. He lines his cock up with her entrance from behind. Harry rubs the tip between her folds, he easily glides into her. Kissing her shoulders and down her spine, he doesn't hold back this time and she didn't mind because his wilder thrusts felt unbelievable, not to mention the sounds he kept making. Pounding his hips up against her ass with determination, his curses get louder and his moans turn into the most beautiful sounds she's ever heard. He's close. Y/N knows it.
“Y/N.” He manages in between hot pants and deep groans.
“Yes?” She asks.
“Where do you want me to...” She only had to think about it for half a second and nearly moaned at the mere thought.
“Keep going.” A fierce thud echoes through the room, matching Harry's skin slapping against hers as he rubs her clit once again and gives his final thrusts. Harry tightens his grip and Y/N can feel every muscle in his body get tense as he fills the condom. He's still for a moment, the throbbing of his cock noticeable inside of her.
Leaning up over her, he wraps his arms around her waist and her chin, tilting her head up towards him for a breathtaking kiss. Their tongues slow dance as Harry pulls out, carefully sitting the girl on the bed.
Harry leaves the room to his ensuite to toss the condom and clean up. He brings a damp washcloth and wipes her down, cleaning up the clear mess between her legs. Getting to her chest, he is gently and thoroughly meticulous. Doing everything as painstakingly slow as possible, Y/N closes her eyes in serenity.
While being touched so delicately, she lets out a small sigh and places her hand on his. Bringing her knuckles up to his soft lips, a faint smile plays upon his gorgeous lips. The intensity and lust in Harry's eyes are nowhere to be found, only adoration lingers now. He dresses himself in a clean pair of boxers and turns around to speak up.
“You're staying right?” He questions, slightly chewing his lip as Y/N makes direct eye contact, the thought of staying and sleeping beside him becoming increasingly tempting.
“I'd love to.” She responds hazily, the sleep already starting to take over her body. Harry chuckles at her clear exhaustion.
“I'll get you a shirt and a pair of boxers then. If you want.” He stutters in a nervous way, his confidence fading into a shy demeanor all over again.
“That would be great, thank you.” Sitting up on the bed, she watches as he opens the bottom drawer of his wardrobe, pulling out an oversized Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of plain black boxers. Harry hands the garments to her and heads out of the room.
She throws his Rolling Stones shirt over her frame and glances down, making a mental note to take this shirt home tomorrow. After slipping on the boxers, she lets out a heavy sigh, crawling into the bed and plumping the pillows behind her back, getting ready to put in her best effort to stay awake until Harry returned.
Entering the room with two mugs in his hands and a cautious expression, he can't help but smile at the sight of her body so carefully protected by his bedding. The overwhelming joy floods his body as he sits down next to her, gently handing her a mug, full of tea. A sincere smile spreads across her face as she accepts the mug, sipping the warm liquid and pulling the bedsheets up higher.
“Thank you. Do you usually bring tea after sex?” She jokes, Harry letting out a light-hearted giggle and grinning before replying.
“I just thought it could help you relax, or calm you down.” The honesty in his voice catching her off guard for a moment as she quickly recovers.
“Relax or calm me down?” Raising his eyebrows, he nods slowly.
“I know how intense and strong the emotions that are inside of you can get. I wanted you to have a tea that would help soothe your mind know you.” He explains, placing his hand on top of hers, rubbing circles as she nods. Placing the hot tea down on the nightstand, she turns back to him with wide eyes.
“That means a lot, thank you.” She whispers, pressing her lips to his ever so gently. The cup of tea feels like a confirmation that she made the right choice to give herself to Harry. He cares for her, makes her feel cherished and comfortable. That's a great thing in Y/N's opinion.
Snuggling up closer to Harry, they sip their hot tea. Harry asks her if she's feeling alright, to which Y/N answers that she feels fantastic, and Harry can't help but think back to the few hours ago when they danced around eachother, making his heart ache. He kisses the top of her head and caresses her face as he stares into her eyes.
“What are you thinking about?” He voices, cupping her face in his large hands.
“About how I wanna do all of that again with you.” She blurts out innocently, making the man laugh for the umpteenth time tonight and making her wish he would keep laughing forever.
“You're not the only one.” He says, setting his empty mug of tea next to hers. All of that tension, all of the stolen glances and awkward moments leading up to what happened tonight felt completely worth it. They both got some stress out and finally found the right times. Being held by the best person in the world, Y/N finds it easy to shut her mind down. Everything is good and she believes their friendship has grown into something far deeper. Maybe she finally found love, she thought before she surrendered to her heavy eyelids and drifted off, pressed against Harry's warm skin.
Sighing with relief and pure admiration, Harry lets his mind wander as he looks down at the most stunning girl he's ever laid eyes upon. He closes his eyes, pulling the blankets higher so her delicate form won't get cold in the middle of the night and lets himself indulge in the feeling of her soft skin brushing his. Not being able to believe what just happened between them, his body relaxes more than it had in months, maybe even years. Admiring her features and carefully placing a chaste kiss on her temple before he too drifts off to sleep.
#harry styles#allthelovehes#harry#styles#harry smut#fanfic#smut#imagine#one shot#fanfiction#harrystylesfanfiction#harryxreader#harry x reader#harry styles x reader#harry x you#harryxyou#harry x yn#harryxyn#best friend#writing#hot#best friends#besties#bestfriend!harry#famous!harry#virginity#deflowering#first time#protected#wrap it before you tap it
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Okay so I've got this weird question (fun to ponder tho)
How do you think Rafal would react if Sophie slapped him?!
(Both the prequel Rafal and the TLEA Rafal.)
And perhaps the prequel Rhian too. Although I'm mainly curious about Rafal (since he has more of a connection with Sophie, I think.)
Ahaha! This is absolutely a fun one on this very fine day, Anon. Here goes—
Because prequel Rafal most likely wouldn't have a connection to, a care in the world about, or any feelings toward Sophie, she could just be another student to him. And if she slapped him, a blatant show of disrespect to her School Master, I think his first impulse would be to send her to the Doom Room, or to react explosively, retaliating with sorcery. Maybe, he'd slam her to the wall. We've seen that happen with the pirates and he has a short fuse.
If he stopped to think about why she'd slap him, if he were in a more tolerant state of mind, say, as Fala in his disguise, he might be able to reevaluate whatever he said to her to have earned that slap. (Probably, he would have said something about how she's worthless as an unconventional, Everish, and superficial Never, who only cares about appearances, who is a disgrace to her side because she wants to find True Love, and who'd never amount to anything, I'd imagine.)
And, maybe, just maybe, she'd actually break through the ice with the slap, or by following it with some critical yet truthful jab about him, thereby reaching his humanity and inspiring some self-reflection on his part.
Yet, I do not believe Sophie reaching him or succeeding in cuing him into recognizing his flaws would be the most likely outcome. I'm not sure what other fault-finding he'd do with her, and we know he just loves disproportionate retribution, which is why I'm most inclined to say: torture it is.
⸻
TLEA "Rafal" is the more uncertain answer.
He does have feelings for her and has exhibited sadistic and masochistic traits. (Remember the moment when they kissed after Sophie returned? He seemed to actually enjoy his bleeding lip for some reason.)
So, this may seem controversial, but he might redden and could potentially feel aroused and/or disoriented/dazed and be unable to react, frozen in place, considering that she opposed his authority, and that he hasn't been contradicted by anyone in about 200 years.
Besides, regardless of whichever of these would occur, I don't think he'd be able to keep a clear head in this particular instance.
If that aroused thought process happened, I think he would try not to lose his cool or get flustered, and would flee the scene abruptly, leaving Sophie to wonder how he took the slap (and unfortunately, worry for her life and what could possibly be in store for her, if he came back).
I'm not sure if her slapping him (probably due to his daily proposal ritual, him telling her to address him as "Master," or something equally controlling and irritating to her) would change their power dynamic. But that possibility does exist.
If their dynamic changed, maybe he would yield to her more often than he already did in canon, or could involve her in more major wartime decisions because slapping him definitely would've exhibited even more of her force of will and agency to him.
If their dynamic went in the opposite direction, he might become paranoid that she lifted a hand against him at all, and try to monitor her more than he already did, exercising his authority over her more oppressively.
Another fairly realistic option would be their having a verbal argument or a shouting match. But, it could be one-sided, if Rafal just decided to endure some kind of berating from her.
He might just allow her to get away with yelling at him while he either defends himself, calmly, maintaining his composure without yelling. Or, he could take everything in stride, or at least silently, and listen to her, seemingly unperturbed or perhaps, wincing the whole time at her sharp tongue? Internally, he could be very pained by all the horrible, hurtful things she's saying, that he would probably deserve. Another route is that he could, strategically, agree with her and yield to her, to regain her favor, but that could be too transparent of him.
Eventually, Sophie would run out of fuel for her vituperative fire and halt her tirade against him, and she might be a little remorseful or blush, but he'd let it slide because it's her. And he needs her.
He'd probably accept any apology, half-apology, blame-shifting, or non-apology from her, just to stay on her good side. And if he were able to swallow his pride, he could give his own speech as he's wont to do, appear to understand and even empathize with her societally-oppressed, downtrodden Evil soul and heart, and apologize himself, like any good Evil "activist" would.
(Personally, I like to interpret TLEA Rafal as The Ultimate Evil Activist™. So, er, take that however you want.)
I think he'd hold himself back from violence against her if it crossed his mind because he probably has the self-control to know that aggression would only worsen his chances with her, no matter what satisfaction it could bring him in the short term.
Alternatively, he could seize her and initiate a kiss against the wall in the same forceful way Sophie did to him once.
If not that, shock is another option I can go back to. He knew, to an extent, that she viewed him as "all-powerful" even though he wasn't. Maybe, he'd be impressed by how brazen she was to slap him at all. He'd never admit that to her, I think, but he'd probably glow inside about the fact that he's (why not credit himself?!) influenced her enough (ahem, provoked her enough) to become more violent, even if it backfired against him. Plus, he could harness that violence of hers during the upcoming war and redirect, train, refine it, towards a more productive cause. Their victory. Because, that violence is also an indicator that his plan for her to embrace Evil wholeheartedly is succeeding, even if his parallel plan to court her is simultaneously failing. (Picture mental fist-pumping, like: yes, yes, yes, basically.)
So, there's a chance he'd remain expressionless. However, he could display shock on his face if he weren't able to control his emotions, or he could grin like a pathetic, love-sloshed idiot, much to her disdain or ire at not being taken seriously.
Whether or not he'd recognize and agree that he was in the wrong due to whatever he'd done to earn himself the slap, he could also try to make it up to her, whether his apology is sincere or not. I'm sure that in either case, he'd resort to personally bringing her (or materializing from afar) more and more opulent gifts—because, what more does he know about her that he could use to his advantage? Not a lot, to be fair.
Maybe, the gifts would appease her while he temporarily stays out of her sight, so she doesn't get mad at him again?
The least likely scenario, in my opinion, would occur if he truly didn't know whether slapping were a thing that "normal young people" did while "dating," and he took the slap as a sign of things going regularly, if not badly.
To be fair, he's watched Ever courtships for years (and he surely must've observed Agatha punch Tedros in the eye over the Gargoyle debacle), but this is Evil's Love—something unheard of, something never before seen. Should it be held to new standards? If so, what standards? What should he expect? What should he set, if the standards are up to him to determine? Should he really hope to imitate the Evers' love on every front? He's had zero successful past relationships, so how could he know?
If this happened, I bet he'd obsess over the meaning of Sophie's slap.
He might have to process it and puzzle over what exactly went wrong for days before he returned to set things right with Sophie. And if he did that, he'd potentially inadvertently abandon her in the tower for those several days, leaving her to wonder if she's going to starve there as her punishment, or die from "the plague," assuming he forgot about everything else and his obsession took hold of him.
(And leaving her alone could be a strategy itself, whether intentional or not, so she would begin to crave his presence again.)
This would also mean, he'd have deal with far more external complications because the assumption that he'd desert Sophie for a short period, the way he did to Rhian for six months in the prequels, would mean he'd also desert his war-training responsibilities, leaving the Old and New students to fend for themselves, and perhaps, to devolve into anarchy—if he's not quick enough to return, provided that his Deans failed to maintain order and discipline during his absence. In fact, I could see Aric actively undermining Lady Lesso's efforts, and encouraging vicious hallway brawls and overall barbarity with Rafal gone.
Also, his love was never "enough" for his brother in the past—that could easily spiral into self-doubt, even if his ego would protect against it. Then again, he's likely more sensitive to rejection if it's from her specifically since he actually values her opinions of him. I feel like he'd just brood in the no-longer-Blue Forest, sit there and do nothing but cycle that thought around and around, because, his plan, his plan that he's had for 200 years, his last hope, is currently falling through all around him, all due to one slap, and what if that means all hope is lost!? All that work for nothing. A terrifying prospect. What then? He'll have nothing if he doesn't have Sophie by his side.
I think he'd know better than to think that so quickly though. Dramatizing things just entertains me.
⸻
Now for Rhian.
Rise Rhian could easily say something about the inferiority of Evil, and that could've insulted Sophie indirectly because I don't believe he would, while still Good, stoop to insulting her directly.
He'd probably just assign her a benign punishment, like dishwashing duties, or confine her to her dorm, given that she is a student and technically one of his wards, even if she's a Never because in this case, she acted against him, not the Evil School Master. So, perhaps, it wouldn't turn out like it did in book 1 with Lady Lesso. If he had no jurisdiction over the Nevers though, the punishment could be the Doom Room, if the decision fell to Rafal. And Rafal would not give a student preferential treatment if they slapped his brother!
Now, if Rhian were sympathetic enough to Sophie and her ongoing suffering in Rafal's School, he could cover the incident up and spare her. Let's face it: while Good, he seems like the lenient, bleeding-heart sort. Maybe, to him, it'd be the right thing to do because she seems kind of fragile and vulnerable. And she's Everish, which could appeal to him emotionally.
Then again, Rise Rhian has poor judgment, so maybe he'd stall and overthink deciding on any course of action, and wouldn't know what to do with her. He might not even feel like he could bring himself to discipline her, and might just continually obsess over it, as the indecision eats away at him. And, in the moment, maybe, he'd just flush red and tear up a little because she's been so cruel to him!
Fall Rhian, on the other hand, would probably insult her and do it so scathingly well. If she slapped him... she'd probably be a dead girl walking at that point. Could he incinerate her? Very possibly.
Midway through Fall, Rhian might just assign her a demanding punishment or task, really, of the same nature (and severity?) as Midas'.
⸻
And that is all I have for now. If there are any outcomes I haven't thought of, feel free to tell me what you think!
#school for good and evil#rise of the school for good and evil#fall of the school for good and evil#sophie of woods beyond#rafal#rafal mistral#rhian#rhian mistral#sge#sfgae#the school for good and evil#tsfgae#rotsge#rotsfgae#fotsge#fotsfgae#the last ever after#tlea#sophie x rafal#rafal x sophie#raphie#rophie#sofal#safal#my post#my analysis#my theories#my predictions#slap
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SOLAR RETURN: The Year You Meet Your Spouse & Move Countries
This is the sr chart of the year this person met their boyfriend (now spouse) and moved to NYC.
You may use this chart to find similar indicators in your own chart. Of course, it won’t manifest in the same way due to natal being different but you may still find this helpful.
INDICATORS SHOWING A BIG MOVE:
SR ASC in Virgo & Ruler (Mercury) in 9th H:
ASC in virgo can be a year when one is typically focused on: routine & managing. Their approach to the year can be critical and analytical.
9th house shows foreign travel. This year this person spent a lot of time in NYC. It was a big and expensive move. A lot of time was spent deciding where exactly in NYC they would want to live.
SR MOON Conjunct PLUTO in 4th House
For this person, this is conjunct their natal Uranus. This person decided to move to NYC after meeting their spouse (than boyfriend). This was a sudden and shocking choice to her family as they had just met. Although, they were not opposed.
Uranus brings this shocking & sudden aspect.
Pluto brings the huge transformation.
Moon&4th H show it being connected to their home and family.
SR North Node in Natal First House
This connects to home since their natal NN is in 4th House. This shows the focus of home being brought to the front of their focus.
It shows a fated event being triggered in regard to self and home. This is further supported by Vertex being in 4th House.
SR IC conjunct Pluto
This further supports that a huge transformation was going to occur this year.
SR 4th House in Sag with Saturn
Sag is the sign of travel, education/knowledge. In 4th, it can show travelling or moving around a lot. This is a very small indicator but when backed up with the above it further supports that this person was going to move this year.
Saturn’s influence shows it wasn’t going to be a small trip as this person originally planned. They met their spouse, dated long distance for most of the year. Making the best move for their career & this relationship, they say they decided to begin the process for a permanent move.
Meeting An Important Romantic Partner:
SR Venus conjunct Venus
This is one indicator of romance being highlighted for the year.
In this case, this is in different signs but still in very close conjunction. SR Venus is in 10th, Natal Venus is in 9th. This person experienced a lot of blessings in their career this year too. This was a good year for business and romance.
Romance isn’t always the case with venus conjunct venus. However, this person has multiple indicators of a relationship.
SR Jupiter transit Natal Jupiter’s House
This isn’t conjunct, however it is still prominent. Like venus conjunct venus, this alone would not indicate romance. When paired together with even more relationship indicators, it shows a very important relationship forming.
For this person, they met their spouse through a friend they were visiting in NYC. Jupiter can show where you will meet the spouse. In 11th, through friends/social network.
This person’s SR Jupiter conjunct part of fortune. This further shows this person experienced feeling lucky and blessed in abundance. They say everything went perfect this year - in business, romance, family, etc.
SR Uranus conjunct Mercury in 7th H
This shows meeting was going to be sudden and surprising. This person was not looking for a relationship when they went to NYC. They truly thought it would be a short and fun visit to their friend’s place.
SR South Node in 7th H
This alone can sometimes indicate less focus on relationships. And this was true at the start until they met their boyfriend.
The other relationship indicators this person had shows it was inevitable this would change.
This can indicate they have a past life connection with their spouse too.
#astrology observations#astrology#solar return venus conjunct venus#solar return observations#south node in 7th house#north node in 1st house#solar return ascendant in virgo#moon conjunct pluto#jupiter in leo#solar return jupiter in leo
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Hi! Hope you're doing well. I was reading a fantasy webcomic with some Deaf characters and was wondering: what adjustments to the language creation processes would a conlanger have to make for creating a sign language? Thanks!
The short answer is relatively few. Sign languages are languages and do all the same things with a different phonology. So long as you understand the phonology of a sign language you can create a sign language.
The long answer is here. That's a thing I wrote up called SLIPA (Sign Language IPA). Due to the fact that the potential for iconicity with gesture is greater than with sound there's a lot more onomatopoeia in a sign language than in a spoken language. To explicate, onomatopoeia in spoken language is a word that imitates the sound of the referent (splash, crash, plunk, boing). In a sign language, it's a sign that imitates the look of the referent (ASL TREE, for example). Since it's possible to be more iconic, sign languages take advantage of that fact. Consequently, you don't find sign languages that DON'T take advantage of it and are purely abstract. There are also things that are hard or impractical in a spoken language that are simple in a sign language simply due to the medium (e.g. full number incorporation in the ASL words for WEEK and MONTH). Finally, there are a lot of "on the fly" verbs that are created that have no obvious analog in a spoken language. It's something like the sentential words of a polysynthetic language combined with imitative sounds in a spoken language to describe a body in motion.
In other words, because there are things you can do in a sign language simply due to the medium that you can't do in a spoken language, sign languages often do those things. It would be strange (i.e. non-human) if they didn't. If you're aiming to create a secret sign language, perhaps you intentionally don't take advantage of those things. It's possible to create a purely abstract sign language, but it would be a fairly obvious construct the way Ithkuil is very obviously not a plausible human language (i.e. it could never have evolved naturally to be the way it is). This might be a fun thing to do for a fictional setting—a totally non-iconic sign language created for secret communication. This is, essentially, what I did with the Atreides sign language in Dune (as opposed to the other sign language I created for the first film that wasn't used). Even that one, though, takes advantage of iconicity in a way that a truly abstract sign language need not. This is because part of the secrecy of the language is the way it's used. Others aren't even supposed to see it—and if they do, they're supposed to dismiss it as hand twitches. You could make an obvious sign language (i.e. it's obvious these characters are signing to each other) but with really, really weird associations—like pointing to your interlocutor means "sky", where eveyrone looking on will think it means "you".
Anyway, just some thoughts. This is an underexplored area of conlanging, but due to the simplicity of video creation and sharing nowadays, it's something that's worth exploring. Back in 2006 when I wrote up SLIPA it wasn't practical to take videos and upload them. It was possible, certainly—we had high speed internet and websites—but we didn't have smartphones, I don't think YouTube existed yet, most frontend UI didn't have video embedding as a feature of its platform, etc. We were lightyears ahead of the internet as we understood it in the 90s, so 2006 would be much more familiar to the people of 2024 than the people of 1994, but smartphones and social media (and its infrastructure) really changed the nature of capturing and sharing video. Conlangers have taken advantage of that in every way EXCEPT creating, documenting, and sharing CSLs (created sign languages).
Like (I don't want to go off on a tangent here) you can have an entire YouTube account that is just a dictionary. ASL already does this. Go on YouTube and type "ASL sign for [whatever]". There are tons of videos that are like 10-15 seconds long that are just demonstrations of a single sign from different angles, all made by Deaf signers. And the videos don't need sound! You don't have to worry about audio quality, microphones, etc. You can actually use YouTube to document an entire sign language. No one's done it yet. Why not?
Anyway, those are my thoughts. Hope this helps.
#conlang#language#ithkuil#sign language#deaf#csl#slipa#youtube#language creation#video#dictionary#deaf sign language
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How did you come up with roleswap Elfilis' design? It's really cool!
Hi! Thank you so much! :D I'd love to share my thought process! Gather round the armchair by the fireplace, friends! It's story time!
I've said before that the Forgotten Land Roleswap started off as a doodle that swapped Dedede and Bandana Dee's roles as Player 2 and the Brainwashed Beast. But when I realized how fun that one little change was, how about EVEN MORE changes? That's how my one-time doodle turned into the full AU story. I swapped Meta Knight and Kirby, Clawroline and Leongar, and Sillydillo and Gorimondo- and because the story is so Waddle-Dee centric, I promoted Dedede to "Player 1" since the stakes would be higher for him as their King.
So now I had a story that had a lot of opposite traits to canon and I wanted to explore that further! When it came to the matter of Elfilin, I thought he would probably behave too similarly towards Dedede and Meta as he did to Kirby and Bandee. He'd be friendly and trusting, communicative, optimistic, knowledgeable, and cooperative. So how about providing them a travel companion who is defensive, has trouble communicating, a little wild, uninformed about themselves and the world around them, and has a bit of a temper?
But working with all these opposite traits didn't feel in-character for Elfilin anymore. So my natural next step was to swap Elfilin with Elfilis and make a new version of the Forgotten Land's lost little pup!
Enough yapping about the context behind my decisions, tho. How'd I come up with Roleswap Elfilis' design?
I see you out there, Fecto Forgo fans. Maybe somebody out there's thought, "Roleswap Elfilis does not look like them! Why not? That's what the other 50% of the Ultimate Life Form looks like! I demand justice for the angry glowing rat fetus!"
Maybe nobody has ever thought this. But I wonder sometimes lol
Your feelings are valid, friends. Please lemme explain my reasonings.
This fella, to me, is the abandoned wet specimen left to float in a jar for who-knows-how-long after a forcible physical and mental separation via spatial teleportation shenanigans. And I think part of their appearance is due to their role as the trapped and forgotten half.
The role of the half that got away fully formed his own body and inherited some traits from the complete being-
For Elfilin in canon, he got ears that are proportionally huge compared to the rest of his body, blue eyes that sparkle with the light of a thousand destroyed planets, a tiny bit of pink fur for his adorable blushies, and a really long fluffy tail. Maybe becoming a being free of chaos gave him those sweet eyes like Kirby and the Waddle Dees have.
My reasoning is that whichever half ends up escaping the Lab and fully forming their own body, they would carry the major physical traits the other wouldn't inherit.
Anyway, that left Elfilis with the horns, colorful and expressive eyes, whiskers, beige chest fluff, opposable thumbs, and pink tummy fur.
Elfilin gets the long tail in the bodily divorce so Elfilis has a short stubby little cotton tail like a bunny. Like if he ended up with just the very tip of the Ultimate Life Form's tail.
Behold this diagram above I came up with two years ago! Disclaimer: the canon Elfilin is the one in the chart. And I draw him a little differently these days lol. I ain't showing anyone how he ended up in the Roleswap yet tho!!!! >:0
But Roleswap Elfilis is more than just "baby version of the Ultimate Life Form..."
All the differences in the Forgotten Land Roleswap from canon stem from one event in the timeline. One change that I added to the events that were already supposed to take place. It's why the Ultimate Life Form split differently. Why the Beasts have different roles and aesthetics. Even why the portal took Bandana Dee and Kirby before Meta Knight and King Dedede.
How did that saying go again? The flap of wings somewhere can influence a bunch of huge changes somewhere else down the line...? What was the name of that theory again....? Hmm. Not important, I guess.
Anyway, the end!! You sly dog, you got me monologuing!!1! /lighthearted
#roleswap ask#Thanks for reading today's episode of Jojo's monologues HEHEHE#I really do put a lot of thought into these things and I can't help spilling whenever I'm asked!#I'm just really happy and excited about all of this building I'm doing!#And of course most of this is my own personal theory and conjecture#in no way am I saying “MY THEORIES ARE THE ONLY RIGHT ONES”#or claim that my roleswap au about the Forgotten Land game can be the only one just because I thought about it a lot#I love seeing different conclusions and interpretations in this series. especially if they're wildly different than mine#it's why the Kirby series feels so special to me. I genuinely just want to have fun and experience others' fun too :3#roleswap scraps#elfilis#elfilin#forgotten land roleswap#headcanons#ALSO I'M SORRY ANON it's been literal months since this ask.#I'm sorry for the person that I am lol sometimes it just takes a long time for me to get these things out#I love asks and questions and cherish them! I promise <3
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Let's do a quick analysis of this new short video "The Sides Need a Nice Day" which is clearly meant to be mostly for fun, but there's definitely some hints and easter eggs to pay attention to that I'd like to explore a little further.
I'll address this in three parts in separate posts, the first for Patton and Logan, the next for Virgil and Roman, and the last for Janus and Remus.
Let's start with the first part, about Patton and Logan.
Patton's initial approach, as we can see, was flawed despite his good intentions. He wants to do something nice for Logan, he thinks out ideas based on what he knows Logan enjoys, and he likes to see Logan actually having fun. These are all very emotion-based notions and motivations, which we can expect from Patton. He's inspired by his own emotions in response to seeing the videos online, and takes matters into his own hands to give Logan in particular a special day.
Why Logan? Because Patton's very in tune with emotions and can recognize that Logan has been having a tough time lately. He empathizes with this a lot (considering it's kind of his thing) so he wants to do something that he'd like someone to do for him if he was having a bad day - do something to cheer him up!
This is very sweet and he clearly puts a lot of thought into this idea...but it's not an immediate success because he only really puts the emotional concept and vision into it, and didn't think practically or make his decisions with logic in mind.
Wonder who could have helped with something like that...
First, he approached Logan about making a quick decision, which is not something Logan is ever known to do. Logan resists this right away by questioning him for clarification and is already annoyed to start because Patton is being vague and trying to get Logan to play along without giving consideration to Logan's need to understand a situation and weigh his options before deciding anything. Logan takes no action lightly and always thinks his actions through first, as opposed to Patton, who prefers gut instincts and impulsive action. He doesn't bother to offer Logan the information and time to make a more informed decision, all because he wants to hurry up and get to the fun part!
Patton (like Roman) is someone who is able to envision what he wants, but Logan is someone who actually figures out the steps needed to make that a reality. Without the steps, that vision is but a dream, and without the vision, the steps are just work with no purpose.
These sides need to learn to work together to accomplish goals, not just do things on their own, and this part of the episode gives us a hint towards that notion.
The peculiar way that Patton then explains the situation to Logan is also interesting, as he states that whichever option Logan chooses will be something Patton wants to do, and because Patton wants to do it, Thomas will want to do it, meaning Logan gets to do it, too.
This, by itself, is such an alarming concept to drop into this video, especially with Patton saying it so cheerfully.
In case it's not clear, Patton is implying that he has so much power and sway over Thomas' decision-making process that he can have Thomas do something just because he, Patton, wants to do it. None of the sides should have that level of influence over Thomas, but Patton not only has that power but also knows that he does.
(And to clear up any confusion, this is not the same as Janus saying during his part of the video that he's convinced Thomas to lean into certain thoughts for the day. Patton is suggesting that if he wants something, Thomas will do it, as if it's automatic and doesn't require convincing. That may be Patton oversimplifying it a bit, but it's still indicating his status above others in that sense.)
In this case, he's using it to give Logan a nice day by doing (read: permitting Thomas to do) things he knows Logan would enjoy...but in other context, that's a very dangerous situation, especially since Patton has been shown to make bad or skewed judgement calls in the past due to his biases as well as making some very impulsive, emotionally-driven decisions.
But he recognizes this status that he holds and is attempting to use it for good, so at least there's that?
The next and more obvious part of this section shows that Patton is rushing Logan through the activities chosen, talking over him or cutting him off when Logan questions Patton about this, and Logan grows more annoyed by this as time goes on.
He is not quick to anger, even when he was initially forced into deciding something with very little information, and it takes a few times of being pushed and talked over before he even shows his frustration at all.
It's important to notice this because Logan's anger is not just born of nothing. It's valid because it's a natural reaction to the situation he's in not being properly catered to him.
This is something we see in episodes of the series a lot, and when it comes to the specific moments where Logan has truly gotten angry enough to show it, it's never out of nowhere, even if it may seem that way. If you are properly paying attention, you will see the gradual buildup, where Logan keeps holding himself back, staying calm and collected as long as he can, before the emotion bursts out and he acts rashly (and then regrets it).
Logan's anger has been shown to appear after moments where he is repeatedly cut off, spoken over, and ignored or disregarded completely. Being silenced and skipped over so often, it's a wonder Logan keeps trying at all, but he does. At some point, the last line is crossed, and he explodes with that anger.
While the resulting behavior may be inappropriate or rude, the feelings motivating that behavior are extremely valid, because he's being pushed to this breaking point by others. Anger serves the purpose of making it known when someone's boundaries have been crossed and when they have been wronged, so it makes sense for Logan to experience it at these times.
So, in this short video, Patton is trying to do something nice for him, and Logan can recognize and appreciate Patton's intention, but the execution is filled with the same mannerisms that build Logan's anger - being cut off, spoken over, ignored. It's not that he doesn't enjoy these activities, either, but he's not being given the chance to enjoy them with the way Patton is presenting them to him. It's a recipe for disaster because Logan's needs and boundaries aren't being respected despite the whole point being to do something nice for him.
This is also a tough situation for someone to oppose, by the way! When someone does something nice for you but you honestly hate it, how do you begin to tell them that? You don't want to hurt their feelings because you know they were trying to be nice and meant no harm, but if you don't speak up about the issues you had with it, your boundaries could wind up violated over and over again and the other party would be none the wiser.
Logan must voice his frustration. He has to explain why he's upset. And, thankfully, in this section of the video, he does!
He starts by stopping Patton directly, hand out and everything. He speaks calmly and clearly, using the same tone he used when speaking to the others during DwIT to get them to chill out and not be so impulsive. Logan is using what he knows to work to make his case here, and he tells Patton that he appreciates what he's trying to do. But then, he raises his voice and informs Patton what's annoying him about it, that he can't enjoy these activities because he's being rushed through them. This is a direct communication of the issue at hand and why it's bothering him.
Patton then pauses, reflects, realizes his mistake and where he had messed up, and then alters his behavior to fix the issue.
It's so simple and succinct that Logan, while still annoyed, seems confused that Patton actually listened to him and by how easy it was to find that resolution.
And I think that's our next piece of foreshadowing, as well.
Logan has been holding back about his genuine anger and frustration over how he's treated by the other sides and Thomas. He feels ignored and only utilized as a tool, as if he were a book rather than a person (or the metaphysical manifestation of one, at least).
These are not feelings that have only sprung up recently, either - this has been happening for a very long time without Logan ever addressing it.
Until he does, the others won't realize the impact their words and actions truly have on him. He needs to speak up and the others need to listen and adjust accordingly.
With the way Patton responded in this part, though, perhaps this shows that they may have an easier, calmer solution in store than one might initially anticipate, but we shall see.
Speaking of foreshadowing, during the times Logan is shown in the library throughout this part, he is reading a book titled A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles. Knowing past easter eggs and hints, it's likely this is not a coincidence.
Having read the book myself, I think it's very possible this is a potential nod to something that may occur soon within Logan's upcoming arc (whenever that may happen), as the book happens to deal a lot with the concept of imprisonment and finding ways to live through adversity.
In the book, the main character is put on house arrest in a bustling hotel in the city, but he's relegated to a cramped attic space and had left all of his books away from home so he cannot access them, because if he dares to leave the hotel, he'll be shot dead. So he stays inside, and he self-reflects because he now has a lot of time to think. He gets to know the people who work and live in the hotel, how their lives are so different than his own had been and continues to be. For quite some time, he feels the true punishment of his stay there, how the whole world outside is moving on so fast, but he is stuck inside, removed from it. He becomes effectively useless, unable to be or do anything for others (outside of giving amazing wine pairings for meals, of course), but he stays true to himself despite it all. He remains his charming and intelligent self, he makes new friends, he finds ways to be happy despite being trapped there.
The most popular quote from the book is one that says, "if a man does not master his circumstances then he is bound to be mastered by them." And while the main character in that story manages to make the best of his life and circumstances, we know that Logan is still struggling with his fate right now, being trapped within Thomas' mind as someone who cannot fully explore his own interests, who has less and less purpose since Thomas left college, and feels less respected and listened to every day.
Logan has to find a way to obtain happiness despite his circumstances, because he can't change his situation, but he can change how he responds to it.
This book may be a clue as to how he finally figures out how to do that.
The outcome of this part of the video with Logan and Patton is a satisfying one. Logan expressed his frustration, Patton listened and was able to correct the issue, and Logan was able to have a nice day after all, which is what Patton had set out to accomplish. There were quite a few bumps along the way, but it was successful in the end!
Now, onto the next part...
#sanders sides#sanders sides analysis#patton sanders#logan sanders#ts spoilers#long post#orbs thought bubbles#I'm posting part one for now and I'll post part two and three later on because i have two jobs back to back today and tomorrow so I'm busy#pfft but i won't make anyone wait for too long i promise
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I know you’re not working on any askblog things but will the sparklecare askblog ever return?
i've thought about this a lot, semi-recently. sorry for long post, i had a lot to say
see, the issue with asksparklecare is the fact it's supposed to "go along with canon events" and a lot of the time, the arcs will just abruptly end or change with no real connection between them. haunted was sort of my first attempt at putting a "story" on there, then again with the kissmas comic from 2021.
when i started cometcare for example, i wanted to take the generic "ask blog" format and turn it into a coherent, cohesive connecting story that just had interactive elements to make it engaging with readers as opposed to just making people ask the characters questions aimlessly. the main ask blog never really had that entirely, it was just sort of the classic 2010s-style ask blog, this is apparent in basically every arc on there.
it's stumped me quite a bit because now that i have this very different style of ask blog storytelling, the original ask blog feels weird to go back to and i don't feel the same passion or connection with it that i once did. it's a little bit frustrating. i tried to do an arc about the side patients but as you guys saw, i never even did it because i felt so out of touch with that old format of ask blog posts and i couldn't bring myself to work on it at all.
cometcare and darkermatters both have Stories to them, and each arc has a plot that is moved on by readers- even if i already have it written out, there are little things people can influence through the asks and it's a good way for introducing new characters or expanding on characters who we've already met. several times cometcare will return to specific characters to relay information or new details or exposition or something that their initial introduction didn't have.
it's a much more fun process for me to write actual stories in my AU blogs, instead of just....making the characters talk. and another thing- going alongside the main comic has problems, because sometimes there's information i can only reveal in the comic itself, and it's hard to keep up with it in general.
i enjoyed doing the kissmas comic because i got to do a "story" even if it wasn't interactive. i had fun repeating the concept on cometcare last december with help of the crew.
i'm sort of at a loss of what to do with the main ask blog at this point. as much as i miss doing stuff like that for main comic, i just don't find it FUN to do it that way anymore, i've become too attached to the storytelling aspects of my other ask blogs and it just doesn't feel the same exciting experience of watching people react to events and such.
if anyone has suggestions about what i should do with the main ask blog to solve this problem i'm open to hearing them, it would be nice to have some ideas because i'm really not sure what i want to do with it.
there was a time i had the idea of doing a backstory ask blog as an alternate main canon interactive story that followed similar mechanics as cometcare and darkermatters, but idk if everyone would be interested in that. that would probably be a separate thing if i ever did it.
thoughts, opinions, suggestions and ideas are all welcome in the replies or my inbox, i would love to have your guys' input since im making content you all would be engaging with after all
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My favorite thing with Relativity Falls is trying to wrangle Dipper and Mabel’s gender with the identity theft. Are one of them trans? If so, which one? If they don’t have any siblings, that means one of them is Stan and Ford’s grandparent. Is the remaining twin pretending to be the other or are they honest about being a different one? There’s a lot of fun combinations:
I flip flop on which twin works better as the author, but I really love Grauntie Mabel so if I ever made Relatively Falls fanfic I’d probably have Dipper be the Author with Mabel running the shack. I also really like the secret identity angle so I fully support Mabel impersonating her brother. To solve the gender issue you can either go the trans route or the crossdressing for 30 years route. The most “natural” feeling one, at least fanon wise imo, is that Dipper is transmac but fell into the portal before transitioning. But the dipper as transmac headcanon bugs me for reasons not relevant here, and I like Grauntie Mabel too much to make her crossdress as a man for 30 years; so I actually prefer transfemme dipper who fell into the portal after transitioning (I am also definitely not impartial, I am a trans woman lol). That also ties into Dipper feeling like a weird outcast who would study cryptids a la Ford, as opposed to him just being a mystery loving nerd with a constellation birthmark (of course, that’s if you make Dipper study the same things as Ford, which lots of people don’t).
Of course, that line of reasoning leads to all sorts of interesting questions as a result: who is the McGucket analogue? I usually see Candy or Pacifica, but if you wanted to mirror the show (and lean into the queer angle/a relatively falls fiddauthor), Wendy works pretty well. That also helps put Fiddleford in the shack so he can go on adventures with Stan and Ford. And Shermie? Oh god, Shermie.
Shermie is his own can of worms. If he’s Stan and Ford’s brother, is he older or younger? Is he there with them over the summer or is he back with Filbrick and Caryn? Maybe he’s still the unseen grandpa, making him Dipper and Mabel’s brother and sidestepping which one of them is the grandparent. Imo, Shermie works best as Stan and Ford’s older brother adventuring with them. Maybe even as a Soos analogue.
As for who the grandparent is, I dunno! Maybe Soos is, making him Dipper and Mabel’s brother. Maybe Mabel was, making the fact she faked her death and impersonated Dipper all the more tragic and gut punch-y (and very different from Stan, who Alex Hirsch thought never would do that). Maybe Dipper was, and so Mabel is pretending to be a grandparent. If it was Mabel or Dipper, who’s the spouse?
I like swapping Soos and Aubelita too much to make Soos Stan and Ford’s grandpa (though it’s a fun idea I don’t see anyone do). So then one of the mystery twins has to be the grandparent. I don’t think Mabel would abandon her family, so Dipper as the real grandparent has to happen via process of elimination (meaning until Not What (S)he Seems, Mabel goes by “grandma mabel”). Who the other parent is up in the air; Wendy or Pacifica are already popular ships with Dipper, and also potential McGucket analogues. If you wanna get really weird with it, Bill is, imo, a valid choice given the implied romance between him and Ford.
And that snowballs into dealing with Bill. Does he get swapped? If so, with who? Gideon kinda makes sense, especially if you want to keep the Hand that Rocks the Mabel(Ford? Stan?) plotline (as opposed to Stan x Bud which… okay that’s actually funnier). But Dream Demon Gideon sounds kinda stupid to me, even if it fits oddly well (I actually think that works better if Mabel is the author). Do you swap Bill with Euclid and Scalene? Then there’s two dream demons and baby bill running around, but Bill’s parents are kinda nothing burgers of characters. Why do they want a portal? You can also just keep Bill as Bill. I mean, the Book of Bill indicated that there’s a Bill for every universe. I dunno where I stand there, but I lean towards keeping Bill as himself. But swapping any obsessive ex tendencies of his from Ford to Dipper for obvious reasons.
I dunno if I’ll ever write anything, and that’s obviously not all the questions this AU raises (if Pacifica is swapped with Preston, how does Double Dipper play out? Does Boyish Dan work at the shack or is he the estranged son? Who do Candy and Grenda swap with? Are they the Rico and Jorge of Mabel’s backstory? How different is Mabel and Dipper’s backstory to a Tale of Two Stans?) but this AU is probably my favorite and every time I reblog art or an idea about it I get more and more drawn in. It’s really thought provoking.
#relativity falls#grauntie mabel#how do Blubs and Durland get swapped?#are they the teenagers now?#oh god does that mean Robbie is a cop?!#he’d have to be the undertaker though right?#maybe Thompson is a cop#that makes just as much sense#wendy's posts#gravity falls AU
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Lando Norris - Ophelia
Requested: yes via wattpad
Prompt: ophelia by the Lumineers
Warnings: none
Lando sat with his eyebrows knotted in confusion listening to the same song for the ninth time in the last hour. You, a music student had to uncover the meaning behind a song and of course, you chose a song that was shooting around your head. Ophelia. It baffled Lando how the hell you were getting all this information from a three minute song but he watched you and stayed with you nonetheless. "So what is it about again?" he asked, wanting to understand. "It's about falling in love with fame. 'Ophelia' is a metaphor for fame. For example, he says in the song that when he was younger he fell in love with Ophelia, remember this is the idea of fame but now he knows how laborious fame was at the time but now that he does know, he should have known there were consequences to fame."
This hit Lando deep down. He got it completely with his own struggles with his fame but what he still couldn't grasp was how the hell you managed to get that. "So I get that Ophelia represents fame but how did you get all that from a name?" he asked. Lando loved listening to youu talking. If he could, it would be all he would listen to. "Well think about it Lando, from a very young age he dreamed of this Ophelia. He continues on to say that Ophelia is now his girlfriend and he feels like she is on top. I think this means that when he was first in this relationship of sorts, it was amazing. Fame was exciting but as he continues on, he realizes that fame isn't all that its cut out to be and wishes he could leave but he can't." You explained as simply as you could. "Or he could have had a crush on his babysitter and learned about the harsh reality of love?" Either way, this song was really sticking out to Lando as a relatable song. You see, Lando was in fact immensely in love with you but of course, you didn't know as all the signs flew over your head. "So what does 'The Flood' mean and why is it important?" he asked once again. "What makes you think it's important?"
"Well you have it underlined and circled." he replied, pointing at the notebook. You didn't want to admit it, but you couldn't understand what the flood was. What was the purpose of it? "You don't know, do you?" Lando laughed. You shook your head, slightly embarrassed. "Well, you said all this has something to do with fame right?" You nodded your head again and Lando continued on. "What if the flood is referring to when the band finally got famous or something like that. A swarm of support suddenly." It clicked in your mind. Lando was right. You squealed and jumped into your friend's arms. "Lando Norris! You genius! I could kiss you right now!"
"Well I wouldn't be opposed to that idea." You almost froze as his words registered onto your mind. You looked up at him, not exactly knowing what to expect. "What did you just say?" you asked. "You know what I said." he responded quietly. You sat up properly and looked at him with mixed emotions. "Lando, talk to me. You know what happened last time you didn't talk to me." you told him, rubbing his hand with your thumb. "I think I'm in love with you." he muttered. You couldn't form words into your mouth. He loved you? Was he being serious? By the looks of it, he was. Now what do you say? What does one do after something like this? "You aren't joking are you?" you asked him, slightly worried that you were being mad fun of. "I'd never joke about something like this, you know that."
"Yes Lando, but I'm just after finding out my best friend loved me back." Lando's shoulders slumped until he realised what you said. 'loved me back'. These feelings weren't one way? "So you love me too?" he asked, a glimmer of hope sparkling in his eye. "Of course I do! I thought I was making it obvious." The two of you just sat awkwardly for a few moments, still processing what happened. They both confessed how they felt. Okay, cool, cool. Now what? "Lando?" He looked over to you and hummed. "Why would you pick me?" He was taken back by the question. There were so many things but he had to tell you something. "You're absolutely gorgeous." he replied, almost breathlessly. You scoffed. "As if. I think you need glasses." Lando didn't know what came over him, but he cupped your cheek and brought your head around to look at him. You gazed into his eyes and felt instantly relieved and at home. "Y/n, you're beautiful. You may not be a model but to me, you are perfect. You're smart, you just figured out an entire storyline of a song by listening to lyrics that make it sound like a love song. You're funny, your smile is contagious, you will actually listen to me, you are perfect. You just need to let me show you that you are. Please just give me that chance."
You felt your heart flutter. He was genuine. You could tell by his tone of voice and how he was acting. He genuinely meant it. "Lando-" Youu were cut off by a small peck to your lips. Your eyes widened as you and Lando just shared a look. Did he just kiss you? Oh my god, he did! "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Lando rambled on about how sorry he was that it didn't even give you any time to comprehend what happened or even come up wotth an answer. "D-don't worry about it." was all you could come up with. Lando blinked atv youu a few times. "So you aren't mad?" he asked, a bit unsure. "Mad? Why on earth would I be mad?" you asked through a laugh. "Well I don't know, maybe because you might have had second thoughts in the last five minutes." You laughed for a while. "I love you Lando Norris. I really, really love you." Lando felt everything finally piece together. "And I love you too." he smiled. "Well then, that settles it then." You said. "Be a darling and grab me a cup of tea. I'm parched." and with that you returned to your work. "I'm your darling. Of course I'm going to make you some tea." Her darling. He liked the sound of that. He wondered how long he could stay as her darling for and the only answer that was acceptable for him was forever.
#f1 blurb#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#lando norris one shot#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris imagines#lando norris
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Got one about the ask about personalised sexy content on Cybertron: I wanted to share something that came to mind :D
Where would Soundwave fit in this since he's a communications officer most of the time?
hc that Soundwave has the Decepticon base intranet under his monitoring, like a moderator of sorts. He knows about the "hidden" channel perused by the other cons (names all anonymised as well) to share past saved content. He maybe ponders taking it down a few times at first, but lets it stay since he'd be wasting energy to repeat the process countless times. He infiltrates the channel as a lurker. The content shared does spring forth a few fond memories (he finds some of his old likes being shared there), he's also being introduced to other creators and he pretty much expands his tastes.
Some point later on, Soundwave finds out the following:
A portion of the Decepticon soldiers are actively making new content centred around the sexy pinups etc and sharing it within that very channel. There's expected discussion here and there about the content.
The one who made the channel in the first place has made splinter channels for specific-themed content. Well everybody is broke so stuff goes online for free.
High Command is unknowingly made the subjects of such content. Soundwave doesn't want to admit, their mechs are good at taking things out of context. And quite a few have good optics for photography as made clear by their capture's composition and timing (OP usually gives a caption describing the subject matter or how they got the shot)
Soundwave finds out about the cross-faction section: it is a lot bigger than he thought and also carries more discussion about where those former creators are now. A handful of mechs are also sharing plans to capture newer content featuring the Autobots - Soundwave makes a mental note to keep a close optic on them.
Soundwave suspects Reflector might have been dragged along one too many times to get some of the photos taken.
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...and that's how far I got along with it!
I am thinking some of the bots and cons we all know may have some kind of experience with the OF scene before the war. It just so happens each faction later on has maybe at most, a handful of the content creators still online. How do you think each faction handles knowing their fellow bot who made the very material they overload to is fighting alongside them? On the flipside, how about discovering their favourite creator is now on the opposing faction?
Oooh this is fun. To answer your questions:
1. I don't think there's ever gonna be a situation where more than 2 or 3 people are in the same room as one of their old favorite adult stars. Its just not very statistically likely. Individual rxns depend on the person themselves, but most range from "respectfully pretending not to know" and "flustered if they think about it too much but trying to play it cool and not bring it up." They're not actively doing sex work these days so it'd be rude or weird to bring it up unless they're close friends
2. Favorite creator being on the opposing faction just means they get some fresh new cross-faction fantasies to get off to. Good for them, I say
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