#(but he then essentially said that he understands that I'm playing a part and that I probably hated doing that) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

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through your eyes + au 5

authors note: it's been so long. omg. i'm sorry. thank you to my bestie @prettypynklemonade for essentially making me update this 😭

masterlist

words: 6.7k

**gif by @dejameflorecer

warnings: some fluff, roman being possessive/borderline stalkerish, and smut

It’s just a date. Just a low, non-commitment type of date.

At least, that’s what Solana keeps trying to tell herself. Keeps trying to remind herself. Keyword being trying, because of course, she decided to go the route of self-sabotage and self-harm by keying in Rhea on just what’s been going on, and more specifically, who she’s going on said date with.

“Are you out of your fawking mind?” Solana sighs while Kayden does her eyeshadow for her.

The shorter woman snorts, working to blend in the crease color. “Well, that went as expected."

“Is this a joke? It has to be a joke?” She walks over to the two women, her tall presence alone demanding their attention. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

Kayden bites on her lip. “I—I don’t think it’s a joke.”

Solana sighs. “Rhea—”

“Sola.” Nothing about her voice indicates anything about what she’s about to say is going to be nice. “You can’t do this.”

“It’s just a date, Rhea.”

“Yeah, with Roman fawking Reigns.” Solana winces at the disgust imbued in his name. “He’s a sociopath. Why the hell would you even want to go out with someone like that?”

“He’s not….” Solana stops, unsure of how to word it. “I think there’s more to him than people realize.”

“Yeah, more evil,” Rhea harshly rebuffs. “Whatever you think you see in him, I promise, is an act. If he’s being nice to you, it’s only because he wants to fuck you.”

Another wince from Solana as Rhea more or less reiterates what Kayden first hypothesized when Solana confided in her best friend about the man.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Kayden speaks up, turning to Rhea. “Regardless of how we may feel, Solana is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”

“This isn’t a decision. It’s a big ass mistake.” Rhea’s gazes soften for the first time, her tone almost pleading. “Solana, please don’t do this. You’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and Roman Reigns is the exact kind of person who would hurt you.”

It’s strange. Just a month ago, Solana would 100% agree. Would not even be in this situation, because she would have found a way to cut Roman off, get away from him, even if it meant leaving town for a little while.

But, that was before she got to know him. Well, as much as one can get to know a mafia head who seems insistent on making her his, not excluding breaking into her home to ask her out on a date.

Solana is especially happy she decided to leave that part out of the story.

“It’s just a date,” is the final answer she settles on, not missing the disappointment in Rhea’s pretty blue eyes. “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

It’s definitely not the answer her friend was looking for, and Rhea doesn’t hesitate to make her disagreement known. As well as her boundaries.

“Well, I don’t want him here. This is your home, but it’s ours too,” she gestures between herself and Kayden. “And if you want to play with fire, I don’t want the flames anywhere near us.”

It’s a bit hurtful but fair. Solana nods. “I understand.”

She can’t allow herself to think about how the flames have already entered their humble abode, partially because of Roman’s lack of boundaries, but mostly because she’s continued to allow the lack of said boundaries.

Rhea’s gaze is assessing. “Your family doesn’t know, do they?” Intended as a question. Comes out as a statement.

Solana’s answer is quiet. “No.”

Another pointed look. “I wonder why that is.”

“Okay,” Kayden cuts in, nervous chuckling a contrast to the tension building. “Obviously, we don’t necessarily agree with Solana’s actions, but again, we listen and we don’t judge.”

Rhea scoffs. “Speak for your fucking self.” She kicks off the door, turning to leave when Solana calls her name. A blown out breath followed by her turning around. “Yeah?”

It feels wrong to ask, but Solana doesn’t have much of a choice. “Please…..please don’t say anything to anyone.”

A small smile sets on Rhea’s face, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “You know, Sola, the fact that you even have to ask me that should tell you how fucked up this is.” The smile is wiped away, replaced with the disappointment. “Don’t worry. I have zero desire to tell anyone about this.”

—------

“You wanted to see me?”

Roman lifts his eyes from the contracts laid out in front of him. Right away, he can see his sister is annoyed. Unsurprising. Rosalia looks and is irritable on a daily basis, but considering her activewear, he’d bet she’s even more irked with him because he’s interrupted her training.

Slamming the door behind her, she walks in and props down on the sofa closest to said door. “It better be worth my fucking time, too.”

Her comment doesn’t bother him. Roman sits back in the chair, responding in a calm but steel voice, “I’m gonna right to the chase.”

She glares. “As you should.”

Roman’s smile is small and wry. “You’re interfering in my personal business, Rosie.” The smile is dropped. “You know I don’t like that shit.”

Rolling her eyes, his twin couldn’t be more unbothered. “You mind telling me what the fuck you’re talking about? Not that I care, but—”

“I know you said something to Solana,” he interrupts, gaze cutting. “Something that upset her.” Something that made her try to push him away, and that’s the part that really pisses him off.

His words seem to trigger something for his sister. “That little girl from the fight?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “She’s even more sensitive than I thought.”

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing that wasn’t the truth.” Rosalia’s response is nonchalant as she casually admires her nails. “Just reminded her that she isn’t any different than your other hoes—”

Roman looks away, rolling his neck, doing his best to remind himself that Rosalia is his sister. She’s family. His response to her can’t be like it would to anyone else in this moment, where he’d already have pulled out his gun and lodged a bullet in their head.

He has to be…..mindful.

Running his hand through his beard, Roman manages a curt response. “Do me and yourself a favor, and stop fucking talking.” Because the more she does, the harder it will be to control his brewing temper. “Stay the fuck away from Solana.”

If he didn’t have her attention before, he most definitely has it now. “Excuse me? I don’t give a fuck about any of your little whores—”

He slams his fist on the desk, unable to taper his temper. “Call her out her name one more fucking time, Rosalia.”

His twin, however, is unbothered. Her eyes narrowing, assessing, studying. “Careful, brother, your feelings are showing.” Roman says nothing as his sister leans forward, head tilted. “You actually like this girl, don’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but he doesn’t answer the question, either. “As I said, my personal life is none of your fucking business.”

Not answering the question is a bit of a necessity, because he doesn’t really know how to answer it. Saying he likes Solana feels a bit too much. He’s intrigued by her, massively so, intensely attracted to her and fantasizes about the day he can fuck her senseless. However, all of that can be true along with the fact that he doesn’t actually care about or like her.

Again, it’s just the intrigue of it all. She’s the first of many, many, women he’s entertained over the years that hasn’t fallen at his feet. Who he is, the power he holds, and the wealth he possesses doesn’t make her bat an eye. None of that means anything to her. In fact, she’s most definitely the first woman he’s had to pursue in his over thirty years on this earth, and while that may seem irksome and not worth it for most women, Solana is different. He doesn’t know how, but it and she just is. Hence him needing to put his sister in her place before she fucks up just whatever this is.

“And I as I told you, I don’t give a fuck about your personal life and who you decide to fuck. She was just there, and I told her the truth. Not my fault she couldn’t fucking handle it.”

“Rosalia.” He closes his eyes, that damn temptation to snap on her at an all time high. He’d never hit his sister, not unless they were training together, but he certainly isn’t above cussing her ass out and screaming at her. Right or not. “I’m only going to say it once. Leave Solana alone.”

His twin matches, meets, and maintains the stare-off. Sibling against sibling. Alpha vs Alpha. Naturally, she is the first to walk away, not back down. Never that. Just recognizes it isn’t worth it.

“Whatever.” She dismisses, standing up, hands on her hip. “Anything else you need to waste my time with?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, turning on her heel. “Didn’t think so.”

Anyone else would receive a much different response, especially as his sister slams the door, but as already stated, this is his sister. Rosalia drives him insane, but he loves her. It’s always been the two of them, and it always will be. Immediate family, at least. He just needed to establish some boundaries with her, and that’s been done. Should she decide to test them and test him, well, he’ll cross that bridge if and when they get there.

He doesn’t have time to focus on that.

He’s got a date tonight to focus on.

—--------

“Oh my gosh…..”

Solana has been on her fair share of dates. Most of which take place at a restaurant, from regular ole Red Lobster to restaurants with names so foreign and fancy that she can’t pronounce. Though the latter only happened once, and it was a disaster, resulting in her sneaking out halfway through the date.

But this, standing on the dock in front of the most stunning yacht she’s ever seen, she's certain that this takes the cake.

Solana is prompted by security to move so they can escort her onto said yacht, and she's so consumed by taking in everything majestic around her that she ends up completely oblivious to when she’s taken directly in front of the man himself.

Roman

He’s dressed appropriately given the setting and weather. Nice, short sleeved beige shirt with khaki shorts and matching shoes. Expensive watch on his wrist. Gold chain around his neck. Smoldering gaze on her, drinking her in from the bottom of her heels to the top of her head where her hair is pulled up in a nice updo.

He licks his lips. “Gotta admit, I was hoping you’d wear red.”

She refuses to tell him she considered it. “I—I like pink.”

He makes a sound and offers his hand. Solana takes a second to accept it, gasping quietly when he tugs her closer. “I like it.” His eyes flicker with something. “I think I’d like you better in nothing instead though.”

Solana tenses, hating the way she’s hit with something other than discomfort and is immensely grateful when he smiles. “Relax, sweetheart.” He starts to guide her behind him to where she realizes a table is set up for them, a romantic, beautiful dinner. “I’m a man of my word.” Solana tries not to think too much of him pulling out her chair for her. “I said no touching.”

Damn.

Embarrassment fills her at such a betraying thought, because why should she feel disappointed at that?

Roman sits across from her, staring almost. “God, you are breathtaking.”

It’s hard not to look away when God Himself bestows such a compliment. “Thank you.” And she means it, something warm and almost comforting brewing in her belly, replacing the abundance of nerves. “You—you look handsome.”

He always looks handsome though.

And judging by the smirk on his face, he knows it. “Thank you.” His gaze is studying, as he admits, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Curious, she asks, “what would have happened if I didn’t?”

His smile is cheeky. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

She does. Solana knows this man would welcome himself into her home once more. Into her bedroom. And potentially, into her.

Thus, her showing up tonight truly was for the best, and the more she sits across from him, dialogue easy amongst them, something tells it was also the right thing to do.

Solana glances around, suddenly unnerved by him looking at her so much. It’s equally unsettling as it is flattering. “This is beautiful. You—you rented it out for us for tonight?”

He smiles again, but it’s more amusing than anything. “I own it.”

Her eyes widen. “You own it?”

“Bought it for tonight,” he answers, making her eyes widen even more as he reaches for the bottle of wine, popping it open and starting to pour some in her glass followed by his.

“Wait, you bought a yacht for our date?” Even saying it aloud sounds ludicrous. “An actual yacht?”

“Pretty sure I answered that already.”

“Roman, that’s…..” She trails off, unsure just what to say and make of that. “We—we could have went to a restaurant or something.” Solana would have preferred that over him spending an obscene amount of money for just one night.

He shrugs. “You said you wanted something private.”

“Restaurants have private rooms, Roman.”

His voice is dangerously calm and smooth. “But not a private bedroom.”

Oh, Jesus.

Solana shifts in her chair, looking away as he chuckles. “Are you always this wound up?”

“I’m not wound up” she replies, feeling an unfamiliar amount of defensiveness. “It’s just….you’re very bold.” And, you don’t take no for an answer.

“I see something I want, and I go for it.” Is his simple reply as he picks invisible lint off his shirt. “That’s extended to people as well.”

Solana doesn’t doubt that one bit.

Eager for a changing of subjects, she’s about to inquire about when the waiter—or whomever—will arrive when he takes her for yet another loop. “So, I was looking at your Instagram—”

“My Instagram?” She doesn’t mean to interrupt, but it’s hard not to. “H—how?” A valid question considering her page is private, and it’s been a couple weeks since she accepted any follow requests.

“I told you already. When I want something, I get it.” His answer objectively makes no sense but somehow answers her question. “I didn’t read your bio. Just looked at your pictures.”

Swallowing, she finds herself asking, curious almost, “and?”

His brow lifts, matching her curiosity. “And?”

Unsure why she's suddenly so nervous, Solana clears her throat, asking, “what did you think?”

The delay with his answer is the farthest thing from helpful with her anxiety. “I think there’s a lot more to you, Solana Miller, than I initially realized.”

Another almost vague answer that has her sitting forward in her seat, asking almost desperately, “is—is that a good or bad thing?”

The smile returns, and for the first time tonight, it doesn’t seem or even feel like there’s something underneath it. Just a genuine, authentic smile.

“Tell me the more, and I’ll let you know.”

Solana chews on the inside of her cheek, not wanting to mess up her lipstick by biting down on her bottom lip. "What do you want to know?"

His answer is instantaneous this round. "Everything."

It’s such a broad response, and off the top of her head, Solana is struggling to recall her posts. She’s shared photos of herself, obviously. Photos with friends and family. Photos of her bookstore and hobbies that include cooking, books, bible journaling, and even her horse, Rainbow.

But, all of that seems too much to dump on a man for the first date.

Maybe the last.

Thus, her settling on sticking with the major things.

"There's not much to me,” she answers with a shrug, taking a sip of her champagne before continuing. “I'm....I'm an RN, but I've been on sabbatical for almost two years now. I—" There's a type of sadness that bleeds into her voice. "I was working in the ER, but the things I saw...." She shakes her head. "I just needed a break, needed to not be surrounded by so much death.” An honest, truthful, almost vulnerable thing she’s grateful Roman doesn’t press her on despite the absolute intrigue in his expression as she shares pieces of herself.

A small smile falling on her face, she continues. “I've always found an escape in books and writing. Another passion I share with my mom, and we opened the bookstore and that....that's been it."

She’s not sure what she expected him to follow up with, but his question certainly isn’t it. "Does she work there with you?"

Ignoring the almost warmth that fills her at such an innocent, kind question, Solana shakes her head, "No, she's a cardiologist over at Central hospital." For whatever reason, even though he most definitely did not ask, Solana finds herself providing additional, unasked information, "she was a nurse back in Mexico, but when she married my dad and moved to the states, she went back to school and got her MD."

He sits forward, elbows on the table. "Did you ever want to do the same? Be a doctor?"

"I did, but...." Solana leans back in her seat, shrugging. "I was a gifted kid. I did all honors classes and a running start program, so when I graduated at 18, I already had my associates and was only in undergrad for 2 years. Did an accelerated program to get my RN, and by 20, I just felt burnt out from it all. I needed a break from school. Then I needed a break from nursing, and now I'm just....trying to enjoy the quiet."

An ironic thing considering there's nothing quiet about the man sitting across from her.

It’s what causes her to ask, voice soft, "Roman....what do you want from me?"

Because this can’t keep going on without her knowing just where they’re going. She needs some guidance, some insight into where his head is. Outside of the sexual aspect of this all.

That part is very clear.

Roman seems to really sit and mull over her question, his handsome face shifting into something serious and genuine. "Not sure, but I'm intrigued by you, and that doesn't happen. Ever. So, I want to see where this goes."

It’s an answer, so she can respect that much. But, the fact that specificity is lacking in his response bothers her. What about her intrigues him? Is it the fact that he’s been able to initiate some type of intimacy both times they’ve been alone? Does she seem easy to him? Because, if that’s the case, the line in the sand needs to be drawn here and now.

“Roman.” Solana is the one to take her time in figuring just how to word this. "You should know that I—I meant it when I said I'm not like that. I don't—I don't sleep around." Or at all, but he doesn't need to know that. Something tells her Roman knowing she's a virgin will only increase whatever interest he has in her. And, not in a good way. "I don't—”

His response arrives right away. “I know you don’t, and if that was what I was wanting, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” Something tells her he’s being honest. If actual, full on sex is what he was after, he certainly wouldn’t be with her right now.

And it’s his honesty that creates that bridge for her. “Roman, I know we’ve….done things.” More him doing all the things to her. “But, I mean it. I—I don’t want to have sex with you.” And before he can press her, inquire just what and why, she explains, “sex means something to me. It’s not just a thing you do. It’s a bond and connection, and I only want that with someone I have a bond and connection with.” And, I don’t with you.

Might not ever.

“I’m fine with….other things.” She doesn’t feel the need to elaborate on that. He should know exactly what the ‘other things’ are. “But….penetration is where I draw the line.” And just where the next quiet part comes from, she hasn’t the slightest clue. But, she says it, and she says it loud enough for him to hear, whether intentional or not. “For now.”

It’s a stupid additive. One that makes his brow lift and Solana swallow. If she didn’t give up her virginity to her fiancé of all people, what chance does Roman have? It doesn’t even make any sense. He’s the last person she can see herself going that far with.

“For now….” And of course he settles on that part. Solana hates herself right about now. “I don’t really agree with you. On sex, I mean. We clearly have very different views on that, but regardless, I respect it. I will respect it.”

Oh.

That….that’s not exactly what she was expecting.

At all.

“So what…what does that mean?”

Because now she’s even more confused than before. Because she was convinced the minute she made it clear she has no intentions on sleeping with Roman tonight, or any other night, he’d shut the shit down. Would pull away.

That’s clearly not what's happening though.

Roman’s answer is clear, concise, and assertive. “It means that doesn’t change what I said earlier.” He reaches his hand across the table, turning hers over, fingers tracing her palm. “I’m still intrigued and still want to see where this goes.”

Solana is quiet, sitting on each word that leaves his mouth, trying her best to process it. All of it.

What the hell is even going on? How did she end up in this position? Roman represents everything she hates about the world she was born into. People like him are the reason she’s done her best to stay away and keep her distance.

And now, as Rhea pointed out, she’s playing with the fire God himself.

Yet there’s been zero effort on her part to extinguish the flames.

Even as they threaten to lap and consume her.

—--------

For all intents and purposes, dinner is enjoyable and not just the meal itself. Conversation between herself and the Head of the Table is normal, casual, their banter almost something natural and organic.

And she finds herself just as interested in him as he is in her. Finds herself asking more questions about him, wanting to know more about the man who seems to not exactly be what she always thought him to be.

Like the fact that he can cook. Or rather, claims that he can. Or that he makes an effort every Sunday to watch football with his cousins, his “best friends” as he calls them. Or even his interest in photography he shares with her, even a couple photos from his phone.

And with each tidbit shared, the normalization deepens. Roman feels less and less like a thing and more and more like a person.

The staff have just cleared the tables, Solana wiping her mouth when he asks, “where do you want to go for the next date?”

For the twentieth time tonight, she’s taken off guard. “Next date?” The small smile on her face betrays her as she teases him almost, “who said I agreed to one?”

Roman chuckles, once again reaching for her hand, holding it this time. “You did the second you stepped foot on this boat.” Her stomach drops, chest tightening for reasons unknown. “Agreed to this.”

Her heartbeat is in the danger zone as she asks in a low voice, “and what is this?”

He doesn’t skip a beat or take his eyes off her, answering so confidently, “us.”

Solana is a mess. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

Shifting, she moves into a new space of trying to set more ground rules with the man who has her questioning almost everything she thought she knew about herself. “Roman, there’s no—”

“Come here.”

Two words. So simple. Also challenging.

“Roman….”

He sits back in his chair, legs spreading just enough. “Solana, come here.”

Here would be his lap. Here would be a place that she absolutely should not be. But, it’s also the exact place she finds herself moving towards. Barely in front of him, Roman doesn’t hesitate to yank her down on his lap. She’s sideways, face angled down at him, hands on his shoulders.

"Let me help you understand." Roman’s fingers dance up the spine of her back, adjusting her position on his lap, Solana having to ignore the sizable bulge underneath pressing into her ass.

Why is he hard?

An unspoken question that’s drowned out by the alluring sound of his deep voice. "You're with me now. That means if someone looks at you, I'll kill them." His hand eventually moves to the side of her breast, applying just the lightest pressure, but enough to have her squeezing his thigh. "If they breathe too hard around you, I'll kill them." Solana has to bite on her bottom lip to retain what's bound to be a moan when he slides his hand to the front of her body, fingertips massaging her exposed skin through the cutouts of her skimpy dress. "And if they try to fucking touch you, they'll wish I had killed them when all is said and done."

Completely stunned, she isn’t sure how to respond to that. Isn't sure what to say. Her response is truly something that spills out her mouth….”you’re crazy.”

Roman, however, just chuckles. “I’ve been called much worse, sweetheart.” He then sits up a bit, her eyes closing as he ghosts his lips over her shoulder. “Regardless, you still came tonight, stayed, and now you’re sitting on my lap. You know why?” Solana gasps when he moves his hand between her legs. “Because you like this shit. You like how I make you feel. All flustered and discombobulated.” She swallows, and he hums against her, asking, “wanna know how I know?” He easily slides his fingers past her soaked panties, grazing her wet pussy lips and lifting his hand to show her the proof of her body betraying her.

Roman presents the undeniable evidence. “This is how.” And if the situation wasn’t already erotic enough, Solana can barely contain herself on his lap when he sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking each off.

Her stomach is caving and twisting and doing all sorts of things. “Roman…”

This. All of this is the exact reason why Solana has wanted to stay far away from this life. Has wanted nothing to do with the mafia world. The violence. The carnage. The mayhem. And yet, her thighs press together at Roman's oath and his carnal act for reasons she can't decipher.

His gaze drops to her legs, and she curses inwardly. Once again, her reaction to him is out and in the open.

Roman smirks. "You're touch deprived...." His assessment is embarrassingly accurate. It's gross how Roman's inherently innocent touches seem to evoke more from her than her hand ever could. "I can't wait to fix that."

Solana swallows and taps into some deep rooted assertiveness as she asks, "what about you?"

Roman continues to lightly touch her through her dress. "What about me?"

Her stomach is doing all kinds of weird things, and her head clearly is several miles behind, because there's no logical basis for what comes out of her mouth next. "If—if I can't be with anyone else, then...then neither can you."

His eyes flicker with something akin to disapproval. “I can't fuck you, but you don’t want me fucking anyone else?” He makes a sound, finger moving circles around her thigh. “Doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

On one hand it doesn’t, but on the other, it makes sense to her. “You say…you say you want to get to know me, to see where this goes, well that’s….that’s my stipulation.” The only one she’s really set throughout this whole thing that probably shouldn’t even be a thing in the first place.

Roman is quiet for another good minute, finally answering. “Fine.” It’s painfully obvious he’s not excited about this caveat, but he agrees, nonetheless. “But, I meant what I said.” His voice and gaze darken again. “No one touches you but me.” His hand lifts to her neck, grasping just enough to evoke a gasp but not enough to restrict breathing. “Is that understood?”

Solana’s gaze is locked with his as she licks her lips, answering breathlessly, “yes.”

And just like that, the darkness settles into something easy. “Good,” he says it so simply, so casually, hand dropping from her neck.

Solana just looks at him.

It should be unsettling to her, at least a little, how easily he maneuvers between calm and charismatic and dark and intimidating.

But, it doesn’t.

It does a bit of the opposite.

Lord, what the hell is she getting herself into?

—-----------

After some coaxing, additional foreplay, and the reiteration of no penetration, Solana finds herself following Roman deeper into the yacht, headed toward the bedroom. The travel there is a nice distraction, Solana continuing to marvel at the luxury of it all. She wasn’t exactly raised poor, but this level of opulence is unfamiliar. But, something she most definitely could get used to.

It’s still up in the air if it’s something she should get used to though.

Finally arriving, Roman closes the door behind them and walks past her. Solana's eyes never leave him, especially when he starts to unbutton his shirt, discarding it to a nearby chair.

Her cheeks are warm and reddened watching him move onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard, legs spread just enough. She’s ready to remind him of her boundaries when he motions for her with his index finger. “Come here.”

Her chest tightens. “Roman…..”

He makes a sound. “I thought I told you I don’t like repeating myself.” He did. He most certainly did. “Come here.”

Solana swallows, partially unsure why she can’t stand her ground, can’t comprehend what causes her to pull her dress up her thighs just enough so she can crawl on the bed, over to him. Her heart races even more when he grabs her, positions her between his legs, back against his firm chest.

His lips hover against her temple. “Good girl.”

Her eyes shut, that racing heart of hers nearing dangerous territories. “Roman, wh—what—”

“Touch yourself.”

Solana’s eyes shoot open.

What did he just say?

And, she goes to express as such, “what do you—”

He moves his hands to her dress, dragging it up higher until her black thong is exposed. “I want you to show me how you touched yourself when I left that night.”

Immediate goosebumps sprout all over her damn body, her mouth dry, her brain struggling to process all of this. “Roman….”

“Because you did, didn’t you?” His taunts are accompanied by his hand slipping under the waistband of her thong, snapping it against her skin. “You fucked yourself thinking of daddy, didn’t you?”

Solana swallows, unable to answer. Horrified at just how he knows this. How he knows she most definitely laid up in her bed, using her hand and vibrator after he left her so flustered and needing a release.

Something freezes her more when an equally terrifying and erotic thought crosses her mind. Was he watching her?

“Roman, were you—” She’s silenced by his fingers dancing along her mons pubis, continuing to taunt and tease her, eager for compliance with his task.

“Shhh.” His lips are moving along the perimeter of her face as he travels his hand from downward to upward, palming her breast. “Too much talking.” She chews down on her bottom lip when his thumb flicks her pebbled nipple. Damn her for forgoing a bra. “Daddy’s ready to watch.”

It’s crazy. All of it. All of this. All of him. Solana should be running for the hills, should be seeing what resources she can utilize to disappear for a little while, just long enough for this infatuation he has with her to fizzle out.

But, that’s not what happens. What happens is quite the opposite. Lifting her lower half, she slides her thong down her legs, lightly tossing it on the other side of the bed, thus leaving her bare and exposed.

In more ways than one.

Almost nervously, her hand travels to that special space between her legs, a small moan leaving her mouth when she realizes just how wet she already is.

It’s not normal how aroused this man can make her with just words and light touches.

Three fingers gliding up her vagina evoke another moan from her and an almost grunt from the man behind her.

“Look how wet you are.” His voice is something of awe and intrigue, Solana moving her fingers back to her pussy, gathering more of her essence. “Just for me. Always for me.”

Her breath is ragged as she starts playing with herself, eyes closing, thinking back to that night. Thinking back to how good his fingers felt inside of her, working her in a way no man ever has.

Solana spreads her thighs, giving her more access to her swollen throbbing clit. “Oh, fuck….”

“That’s it,” he murmurs against her skin, slipping his hand into her dress, palming her breast. “Work yourself, baby. Show me how you take care of yourself when daddy’s not around.”

Solana’s head is thrown back against his chest as she moves her fingers from her clit, to her sticky, gushy opening. In and out, she thrusts her fingers in, all the while imagining it’s someone else touching her. Someone else making her thrash and moan the way she is.

And that someone else is the man behind her, the man whose name she finds herself moaning, “Roman…..”

“Hmmm.” Stll, that damn teasing voice of his, deep, baritone, and already knowing. “What do you need, sweetheart? Tell Daddy what his good girl needs.”

Oh, she hates him. Hates the way her pussy flutters every time he refers to himself as daddy. How her body responds in a way that defies all logic.

Same as her response.

“Touch me.” It’s embarrassing how needy and wanton she sounds in this moment, the way she nearly begs him, her other hand going to his thigh.

Solana would give anything to see whatever nonverbal response he has at this request. Something smug, no doubt. All knowing. Because there’s no way he can be surprised at such a plea with this situation they're in, how she’s finger fucking herself, leaned up against his chest, his big hands groping and feeling all on her titties.

The erotic of it all almost calls for his participation.

And his participation is exactly what happens.

“Oh my God,” Solana nearly jumps off the bed when Roman’s hand is over hers, his thick fingers gently moving hers to the side, the pad of his thumb hovering over her clit, two other fingers dipping inside her. “Shit, don’t stop.”

His deep voice chuckling against her nearly rocks her to her core. “Oh, I don’t plan to.”

Solana’s body moves in sync with his hand as he works her, so good, oh so good. Solana is a whimpering mess, her hand now on top of his, unable to move away, unable to do anything but sink into this all consuming hole of pleasure. “Yes. Oh my—just like that.”

“Look how needy you are. Fucking my hand like this.” His voice is deep, primal, laden with passion and sensuality that matches hers. “Do you have any idea how I’m going to ruin you?”

Yes. Yes, she absolutely does, because he already has. Just from his hand and mouth.

Roman’s ministrations are nearing the point of too much, Solana’s release right around the corner, something the man bringing her to heaven is clearly very privy to.

He practically growls, asking, “you gonna come all over daddy’s hand? Hmm?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, eyes clamped shut, hand moving to his wrist, squeezing when he quickens and intensifies his actions. “God, I’m gonna—ohhh.” She’s cut off by the orgasm that wrecks her body, her drenched cunt throbbing, body jerking against him, flashing, blinding white lights against her closed lids.

And minutes later, she’s limp, slightly panting, still holding onto him, still trying to settle herself.

Never has she come as hard as the man before her makes her come. It’s….overwhelming. In all of the right ways.

“You don’t think we’re done, do you?”

It’s that question that makes her eyes shoot open. What did he just say?

But before Solana can process anything, Roman is moving them, switching around their positions, and it’s when he goes to lift her, she realizes just what position he’s putting them in.

Trepidation consumes her. “Roman, I can’t—”

“I’ve been thinking about eating you out all day,” he groans. Solana hates how easy and natural it is for him to say and admit to the most filthiest things. “Come sit on daddy’s face, so I can suck that sweet pussy.”

And that’s exactly what he’s doing, positioning her, hiking her dress up even higher, holding it scrunched at her waist. “Roman—”

“Stop talking,” he murmurs, Solana finally straddling his face, her hands gripping the headboard. Roman’s eyes are entranced by the sight of her pussy, so wet and pretty, dripping and needing him. “Come here….”

“Roman!” She gasps, when his strong hands tug her down, his mouth completely covering her, his tongue thrusted inside her tight hole. “Oh shit.” Solana’s head falls against her forearm that’s across the headboard. She’s seen this position in porn, has heard her friends talk about it, but no one told her it felt this damn good.

And maybe it’s less the position and more the man.

Roman’s moan underneath her as he eats her out, feasting on her pussy like it’s his first meal of the day, seems to lean on the side of less the position and all the man.

There’s no concern in the world about suffocating him or too much of her weight bearing down on him when Roman’s grip on her thighs tighten as he pulls her even closer, his tongue circling around her engorged clit.

“God, it feels so good,” she moans, one hand reaching for her breast as she plays with her nipples, grinding down on his face. “Daddy….”

Roman’s groan underneath her is loud and unmistakable along with the way his left hand moves to her ass, giving a slap that echoes through the room and evokes another moan from her.

She’s not entirely sure what stamina is required for eating pussy, at least the way Roman does, but his seems above average. Because Solana is propped up on his face so long that she feels her thighs begin to cramp and tense, resulting in her sinking down farther on him. And for a brief second, she feels bad, worries that her weight is too much. But, it’s quickly shoved to the side when he once again tugs down on her, welcoming it, welcoming and wanting her cunt to completely suffocate him.

A torture he seems to be deeply enjoying.

It takes some time, what feels like hours, hours that are filled with nothing but pleasure and ecstasy, before Solana’s orgasm overtakes her. And once again, she’s a whining, moaning, writhing mess, coming all over his face and in his mouth. It’s too much, overstimulating in every sense. So much so that it’s Roman who has to carefully lift her from off his face. He moves her down so she’s straddling his lap, her hands going to his shoulders, head in the crook of his neck as she tries to settle herself.

And, it’s not helped by the massive bulge she feels pressing up against her ass.

Roman kisses her temple, applauding her, “such a good girl for me.” She feels it, every bit of it, even if nothing about this whole thing is good. The pleasure she’s getting out of it certainly is. “Look how you came for Daddy.”

And came she did, Solana can feel his damp beard scraping against her cheek, no doubt her essence being the cause of it. It’s better to focus on that feeling and sensation vs the strange sense of pride and accomplishment she feels at being his good girl.

It's just all so confusing.

She doesn’t know how to feel about this, about a lot of what’s happened since meeting a certain Roman Reigns. Or the way he just holds her, the way she holds onto him despite being fully descended from her orgasmic haze.

One thing’s for certain.

If Solana is in fact dancing with the devil, right now, in this moment, her only hope is that it’s a song that doesn’t end anytime soon.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 year ago

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Ex-Boyfriend John Price MiniFic

Thinking of your ex-boyfriend John Price seeing you again for the first time after a nasty break-up that essentially didn't go as planned by him.

You knew what you were getting into when entering a relationship with a man who was a workaholic. You knew it was always a priority but you never thought that it had to be an ultimatum between you and that, clearly you were an idiot to think you were more important.

If only you hadn't asked his friend, why was he prolonging his time with you if his decision was set to end it with you when he got the promotion? What exactly would change in that short amount of time?

That night ended in screams, no matter how much John tried to tell you he loves you, it fell on deaf ears. "Actions speak louder than words" was always the saying and you know what? That applies to this, it applies to everything he's ever made you felt and the lack of exchange.

You tried so hardly to not discredit the past, but maybe he just used you. He only tolerated your love like it's a minor convenience for him, you were already there, it's not like he could be picky on who chooses to take care of him.

But who cares right? That was three years ago and you two live separate lives now. John was out there doing god knows what with his colleagues drinking his nights away as he took another woman in bed every night in hopes to drown you out his mind.

If it wasn't for his friend's influence that one drunken night, John wouldn't have said yes to attending a black-tie event. Wasn't ever his thing really, fancy settings with stuffy clothes.

He tried to fit in as far as he could, pretending to stare at whatever painting or sculpture he can spot when in reality no thoughts or feelings except one thing.

He was never one to appreciate or understand what most art try to convey but he once knew someone who did. This was a place you would've thrived in and maybe some part of him wanted you to be there, some sick joke life was playing really.

His whole body froze right as he knew it. There you were, that silk baby pink dress that just made you glow paired with that white fur shawl that he remembers you showed off to him. How adorable you were telling him that it caught your eye and might be useful at a formal event.

Something he thought he'd only ever see in his dreams again.

Barely blinking as you stared at the painting mounted on the wall with this golden frame, you expression deep in thought yet your eyes were glassed with admiration.

What does he do? Without thinking, he stepped forward in hopes that his body would be strong enough to be able to approach you.

He was about to when.. a man approaches you, embracing you from behind. You were caught of guard but you quickly realize who it was and it was clear to John what your familiarity was with this man.

The image of the man burying his face on the nape of your neck was more than enough to cruelly twist the knife in his heart that's been lodged there for the past 3 years.

Those three words uttered by the man, loud enough for John to hear, the same one you'd always tell him but he rarely returned for a reason he himself is unaware of.

The sound of the camera clicks snapped Price out of his trance, paparazzi, who wouldn't want to capture an intimate, romantic moment between a couple who both happened to be rich?

He couldn't do anything to fix this even if he tried, for all he knew you were now in the arms of a influential, dangerous man who would destroy John's life if he wanted to. He gulps, not knowing what to do..

My CoD Masterlist

A/n: Was this inspired by that one scene from Twisted LIes?? Idk what you're talking about 👀 ALSO DON'T SPOIL ME, I'M ONLY HALFWAY THROUGH THE BOOK

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

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ryuzakistoe · 7 months ago

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Conflicted (Michael Kaiser x Fem!reader)

angst, fem!reader, arguing, and uhhh basically all angst, childhood friends, swearing

a/n: after this I honestly have no idea who to do next. I'm kinda in between Isagi again or someone else🤷‍♀️

I also got this as inspiration

BTW IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE

(omg I finally got it to work omg)

——

Experiencing someone you love deeply suddenly transform into a stranger can feel like the ground has fallen away beneath you. The trust you placed in them, the cherished memories, the laughter shared—all of it can vanish in an instant, leaving you grappling with an unbearable emptiness.

In the face of such devastation, some cling desperately to hope, convinced that the past can be reclaimed. They construct fragile illusions to shield themselves from the harsh truth, believing that everything will somehow return to the way it was. But these comforting lies only deepen the wounds, which lie temporarily closed, waiting to reopen with even more agony.

How long could you endure this torment? Some carry this weight for a lifetime, while others crumble under the pressure far too soon. For you, how long will you hold on, waiting for that moment when you perhaps see him again? How long until the heaviness of his “explanation” crushes you? In the end, when the truth finally pierces through the lies you've built around your heart, how will you cope with the devastation and lies?

Thats up to you.

…🥀…

Frequent moves were a normal part of your life, given that your father, a businessman, was always busy either supporting or establishing new companies. Over time, you became accustomed to the constant change, no longer feeling as upset or frustrated about leaving behind new memories and friends.

With your mother having sadly passed away, your father was the only family you had. However, his demanding schedule often kept him away, leaving you with too much free time. You would often wander aimlessly, your father always worrying since you were still so young.

One day, during one of these aimless walks, you noticed a boy around your age dressed in dusty, worn clothes, playing with an old, worn out soccer ball. You found yourself standing there, captivated, as he skillfully shifted the ball from one foot to the other. The fluid motion of his dribbling drew you in, sparking a sense of fascination.

Eventually, the boy noticed your quiet admiration.

"Can I help you, gnädige Frau?" he asked, his thick German accent coloring his voice as he stopped the ball under his foot.

Since arriving in Germany a few months ago, you had made steady progress with the language. Your father insisted you familiarize yourself with the formalities and learn a good number of words, as speaking German would be essential for getting by.

"I was just watching you play," you replied, mirroring his language and matching the casual energy in his tone.

He regarded you for a moment, as though sizing you up, before speaking again. "Do you know how to play? Fußball, meine ich," he said, his expression unreadable.

You hesitated briefly. While you were familiar with the basics and rules of football, you'd never actually played it. Your most significant experience with the sport had been attending a game with your cousin—an exciting memory, but that was as far as it went.

"I'm not sure how to play, but I understand the basics and the rules," you admitted, glancing briefly at the soccer ball.

"Only the basics, huh?" he murmured, flicking the ball up with the same foot that had held it steady. It flew in the air before dropping neatly into his arms.

The blonde boy began to walk toward you, his gaze fixed on you the entire time. Stopping just a few feet away, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Y/n L/n," you answered softly.

"Y/n L/n…" he echoed, as if testing the sound of your name on his tongue. His eyes drifted to the side, and he repeated your name again, his tone thoughtful, as though trying to commit it to memory or decipher some hidden meaning within it.

“And what's your name?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at his peculiar behavior.

The blonde boy seemed to snap out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting yours again. "Michael Kaiser," he replied.

Without warning, he tossed the ball toward you, giving you no time to react. It landed between your feet, and you glanced down at it slowly.

"Kick the ball," he instructed.

You looked back up at Kaiser, processing his words. Kick the ball? That sounded simple enough. You positioned your foot carefully, recalling how professional players did it, and swung your leg forward.

The ball rolled back to Kaiser with surprising smoothness, considering you had little experience with football.

Catching it effortlessly with his foot, Kaiser smirked. "Not bad for someone who doesn't know how to play," he remarked.

You weren’t sure if he was being genuine or just mocking you. "Thanks," you mumbled quietly, watching as he shuffled the ball between his feet.

He suddenly paused, then said something that caught you off guard. "Play with me."

You raised an eyebrow. "But I told you, I don’t really know how to play."

"I'll teach you," he responded almost instantly, his tone carrying a hint of urgency. There was a longing in his voice, and you could understand why. It had clearly been a while since he'd had anyone to play with.

Kaiser was always alone. The other kids avoided him, seeing him as an oddball because of his scruffy clothes, unkempt hair, and the bruises that covered him—marks left by his father. They treated him like an outcast, believing there was something wrong with him.

While they ignored him, Kaiser watched from a distance, wishing he could join in, longing for the kind of companionship they took for granted.

He would often imagine himself in the place of one of the other kids, letting his mind create a vivid scene of joining in and having fun. It was as if his consciousness played alongside them while his real body stayed behind, observing from a distance.

But now, he had a real chance to play with someone, no longer just imagining the experience.

Kaiser began teaching you everything he knew about football. You didn’t become an instant expert, but you quickly gained a better understanding of the sport. It started simply, with the two of you passing the ball back and forth while he explained the basics. Gradually, he introduced more advanced moves, each one more challenging than the last.

Before long, you had learned almost everything he had to teach, and Kaiser was genuinely pleased. Finally, he had someone to share the game with—a real companion, not just a daydream.

Day after day, whenever your father was busy with work, you met up with Kaiser. The two of you would play quick soccer matches, though Kaiser usually came out on top. It didn’t matter to him who won; having someone to share his favorite pastime with was all he had ever wanted as of right now.

You found yourself enjoying his company too. Since moving here, you hadn’t had anyone to talk to, spending most of your free time wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar places. Meeting Kaiser changed that. He had become an important part of your life, and you could tell that he felt the same.

The time you spent together brought you happiness, and the bond you shared grew stronger with each passing day. But then, a few years later, everything began to change.

…🥀…

Kaiser was well aware of his growing feelings for you. He wasn’t oblivious; he knew all too well the risks of letting them show. But that didn't stop them from deepening. It only made it harder to ignore.

After years of hard work, he finally secured a spot on Bastard München’s football team—a dream realized, and you had been there through it all. You were always by his side, ready to support him whenever he needed it. You were the person he could lean on, and that meant everything to him.

Over time, he came to depend on you. There were days when it felt like you were the only one who truly understood him, when he found himself seeking you out for solace. Your presence brought him a sense of calm that no one else could.

He began to rely on you.

It was inevitable, really. Being around someone as steadfast and caring as you, his feelings naturally began to shift and grow into something more.

He started to notice the way his gaze lingered on you whenever you spoke, how his cheeks would flush at the sight of your smile. He noticed how much weight your words carried with him, how the sun seemed to light up your skin in a way that drew him in. He couldn’t ignore the warmth that bloomed inside him just from seeing you.

He began to notice everything. And as much as he loved these feelings, he hated them just as much.

This was exactly what he was afraid of—this so-called "love" that threatened to unravel him. The thought of being vulnerable, of exposing that side of himself, terrified him. As his reputation as the "Emperor" grew, so did his fear of appearing weak.

His skills, his ego, and you—they had all shaped who he was and brought him to this point. He couldn’t afford to risk that. It was only natural that he didn’t want to gamble away everything he had worked for. Throwing it all away over a feeling seemed like the height of foolishness.

But was all the arguing and shared anger really worth it?

No, not at all.

…

"Y/n, is it really that hard for you to just listen to me?”

"But why…? Why now?"

The look Kaiser gave you was unfamiliar, his eyes now cold and distant. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

How did it come to this?

…

In the past few days, something had changed in him. The warmth that once lit up his face whenever he saw you had vanished, replaced by a faint scowl. The way he looked at you now—like you were just another bothersome fan—stung in a way you couldn’t understand. Sometimes he would just ignore your presence entirely, leaving you in silence.

"Y/n, I won't say it again. Please, for once, just listen and go. I don’t want to see you right now."

"But Michael! You still haven't told me why!" The desperation in your voice hung in the air, unanswered.

But It was as if Kaiser had just… snapped. Was it your endless questions? Your desperate pleas? Or maybe it was the look in your eyes each time he tried to brush you off.

"You want the truth, Y/n? Fine. Just looking at you makes me sick!"

His words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. What did he mean? Had he always felt this way? If so, for how long? Were you too much for him?

A storm of thoughts swirled in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last, as you felt the sting of tears welling up.

"Michael… what…?" you whispered, your voice trembling and barely audible.

"You make me feel sick, Y/n. Nauseous." His tone was sharp, laced with irritation, as if the very act of saying it exhausted him.

A couple of tears managed to form in your eye sockets as you quietly murmured, “Michael…but why? Why do I make you feel like this? Was it something I did..—”

Kaiser clenched his jaw, frustration and bitterness seething beneath his words. How could you be so clueless?

“Yes, Y/N, you did do something—no, you did everything!” he burst out. “Every time you smile, I can’t look away. Your stupid hair falls just right and it’s distracting. Your annoying voice—it calms me, like some kind of spell. And your eyes, the way they look at me… I feel sick because of the warmth you put in my stomach. I hate that I look forward to your presence, that you’re all I think about, that I’ve developed these feelings for you—I hate it all!” His fists tightened, a mix of embarrassment and anger rising to his face.

Your eyes widened. Was this a confession? Were these compliments or just veiled insults? What was he trying to say?

You stared at him, speechless, before managing to whisper, “Michael… you… you have feelings for me?”

Kaiser glanced away, reluctant to admit it. But there was no denying it—this was, in its own way, almost a confession.

Mind you, Almost, a confession.

"I wish I didn’t." His voice was low, almost resigned, and you couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips. Why would he want to bury something as powerful as this? It didn’t make sense.

"Michael… " you spoke, your voice barely a whisper. "Why would you wish these feelings away? I… I could feel the same way about you, you know…"

He shook his head slowly, as if each movement was a struggle. When he spoke, his tone was firm but tinged with something that resembled sorrow. "It doesn't matter, Y/n. Even if you do, I can't accept it. I can’t accept us."

His words hit you like a cold gust of wind. "You mean… you wouldn't be able to return my feelings?" Your chest tightened as you forced out the question, though deep down, you already knew the answer.

Michael's silence was answer enough, but still, you couldn’t let it end there. "Well," you began, the words stumbling out before you could stop them, "I guess that’s just too bad because… I really do have feelings for you." Your voice wavered slightly, betraying how hard it was to admit, but the truth had taken root too deeply to be ignored.

You had begun to realize it months ago, maybe even longer. The symptoms of love crept in slowly, almost imperceptibly at first—the way his presence made you feel more alive, the longing to hear his voice even when he wasn’t around, the flutter in your chest with every small gesture. Now, standing in front of him, all those little moments coalesced into something undeniable. Yet, here you were, offering your heart to someone who refused to hold it.

You found yourself looking forward to every visit with him, craving the moments you could be near. Even though you saw each other regularly, it never felt like enough. You often caught yourself inventing excuses just to stay a little longer, clinging to each second as if it might be your last chance to be close.

Your gaze drifted toward him, hoping to catch his eye and find some sign of understanding there. But instead of meeting your gaze, he looked away, his expression guarded.

"As I said before, Y/n, I can't," he repeated, his voice steady but distant.

Frustration surged within you, a knot tightening in your chest. Why couldn’t he just explain? Why was he so determined to keep you at arm's length? "Michael, for heaven’s sake, just tell me why!" you demanded, your voice rising with a mix of irritation and desperation. "Why can’t you? We could figure this out… it doesn’t have to be this way."

You were exhausted—tired of the same vague answer, the same unyielding response. "I can’t" wasn’t good enough anymore. You needed the truth, a real reason to justify the wall he kept building between you.

Kaiser noticed the edge in your voice, and frustration flared in his eyes as he responded, his tone sharper than before. "Because I can't risk everything I’ve worked so hard for, Y/n! I’ve fought so hard to get where I am now, and I can't afford any distractions—not even love."

Distraction?

You blinked, his words hitting you like a slap. He thought this—whatever was between you—was just a distraction?

"H-huh…?" you breathed, the word barely audible as it slipped from your lips.

Kaiser tilted his head back, a bitter sigh escaping him as his jaw clenched in obvious irritation. "Did you not understand what I just said?" His voice dripped with exasperation, as though explaining himself was an exhausting chore.

You felt your brows draw together in a scowl, his words twisting in your mind. Of course, you heard him loud and clear, but all you could focus on was how cruel and dismissive he sounded. This whole "distraction" excuse felt like nothing but bullshit—a convenient shield to hide behind, rather than an honest reason.

"Is that what I am to you?" you said, your voice quivering with anger. It seems as if this was just another excuse of his.

His answer left you both hurt and furious, a bitter mix of emotions twisting inside you. Sure, you finally got the explanation you’d been pushing for, but this? This was what he had to say?

"Love… a distraction?" you echoed, your voice strained as you struggled to keep your composure. "Michael, are you serious right now?" You could barely recognize the man standing before you; this wasn’t the Michael Kaiser you thought you knew.

"Do I look like I'm making this up, Y/n?" he shot back, his tone icy and unyielding. "I can’t let anything interfere. I've worked too hard for what I have, and I won't risk losing it all just to chase after some fantasy. I can’t afford to be blinded by ‘love.’ I can’t afford to be weak. Not now." He took a step closer, his gaze piercing into yours.

You stared into those familiar blue eyes—eyes that once looked at you with warmth and admiration. Now, they were cold and hollow, carrying only frustration and something far more unsettling: emptiness. It was like staring into the eyes of a stranger, someone who had shed any trace of the person you thought you cared for.

"I want to be the best, and I can’t do that with emotions weighing me down," he said, his tone harsh and unyielding. "I need a clear path, free from distractions. Do you even realize how much I stand to lose if I let the smallest thing pull my focus? I could lose everything. I could end up weak… and that’s something I refuse to accept."

His words felt like a cold slap, each one slicing through you. "I’ve sacrificed so much just to get where I am today. So there it is, Y/n. I won’t let these emotions derail me. Not even for you."

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, a silent testament to the heartbreak squeezing your chest. Was this really it? Was he just going to leave you behind because you didn’t fit into his perfect, distraction-free life? It felt like the ground had fallen out from beneath you.

"This is bullshit, Michael," you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "You’re just going to drop me like that? After everything? After all the times I’ve been there for you, stood by your side, supported you through every step of your soccer career—this is how you repay me? Do you even realize how messed up that is?"

Your voice rose, trembling with the frustration and betrayal burning inside you. "You can’t just cut me out because I don’t fit neatly into your plans. Do you even hear yourself right now?"

Anger flared in his eyes, and his voice rose, laced with frustration. "Yes, Y/n, I’m going to leave you! Didn’t you hear a word I just said? I can’t risk everything I’ve worked for. I’ve come too far to let ‘love’ make me weak—I’ll lose it all!"

"Why can’t you see that love won’t make you weak?" you cried out, your voice cracking with desperation.

"Tch. I already told you—it’s a distraction," he shot back, his tone cold and dismissive.

Each word felt like a dagger, piercing deeper as he repeated the same relentless argument, as if mocking the very idea of you. He was unyielding, his walls built so high that nothing you said could seem to reach him.

"So that’s it, then?" you murmured, your voice trembling as tears stung your eyes. "All of it? All of this—even me—it’s just a distraction?"

For a split second, something in his expression wavered. The guilt in his eyes betrayed him as he saw the hurt etched across your face. But just as quickly, he masked it, his pride and stubbornness locking him in place. He stayed silent, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out but refused to let himself.

The truth was, when you first told him how you felt, a spark of joy had flickered inside him—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. But now, with every pained word that left your lips, he buried that feeling deeper, forcing it down beneath the weight of his ambition. He couldn’t afford to let you see it. He couldn’t afford to let himself feel it.

It pained him to see you like this, knowing he was the cause. He never intended to hurt you like this—never imagined he’d be the one to break your heart.

Of course, his ambitions meant more to him than his "best friend." That was the cruel truth—his future outweighed everything, even you.

The silence stretched between you until you finally broke it, your voice trembling. "Is that a yes or a no, Michael? Please… just answer me."

His gaze softened at the sight of you, your face etched with desperation and pain. He truly felt bad—guilt clawed at him—but he couldn’t let it sway him. He believed this was necessary. He believed it was for the best.

"Yes," he said quietly.

The word hit you like a blow, and your head dropped, a broken breath escaping your lips. You never thought it would come to this—never imagined this was how the two of you would part ways.

Quiet sobs began to slip from you, growing louder with each passing second as tears streamed down your cheeks. Soon, the dam broke, and you were wailing into your hands, trying in vain to wipe away the endless flow of tears. Your heart ached with a hollow emptiness that spread through your chest—the same emptiness that Michael once filled, now torn wide open.

It felt as though a piece of you had been ripped away. You and Michael had been through hell and back together, always supporting and lifting each other up. Now, there was a cold, hollow place in your heart where he used to be, a void that felt unbearable.

After a moment, you forced yourself to look up, only to see him walking away, the distance between you growing with every step.

"Michael… mein Schatz… come back… please…" you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can't do this without you…" But he was already too far to hear, your pleas swallowed up by the empty space between you.

Kaiser kept his eyes on the ground, watching his own feet carry him further away. He didn’t dare look back. "Goodbye, meine Liebe…" he murmured softly, the words escaping like a breath.

a/n: so I actually kinda took my time with this so I hope its better 😐

Also I just rewatched aot, tell me why I forgot how FINE jean was in s4🤧😫 (and Levi)

ANDDD IM ROCKING WITH BLLK S2🤤

I'm going to lick his tattoos bro

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leclercsbunny · 2 years ago

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maybe if you loved me ♡ c.sainz

part two ♡ masterlist

F1CHAI the summer vacation not only brings dramatic shifts and shuffles among the current lineup, it also brings forth a new *rumored* couple. after a previous relationship that was rife with confusion and so much controversy, y/n has rose to the trends, this time, with daniel ricciardo headlining the event. their similar posts have sparked discussions all through out the interweb, prompting fans to speculate that they have spent their break together.

"haagen or ben and jerry's?" daniel hollers from the kitchen, and you raised your head to shout back, "both!"

you focused on the task at hand, picking the perfect movie or series to binge while munching on the junk food spread on the table. it was covered with all the essentials for a night in; chocolates, popcorn, fries and nuggets. you were wrapped in the fluffiest of blankets, and the felt the most comfortable you've ever been in a while.

daniel sat himself on your side, grabbing the other end of the blanket and getting cosy himself. you murmured a quiet thanks when he handed you the icey treat, leaning into him when he kissed your head with a welcome in return.

the aussie raises an eyebrow to his phone, seeing notifications flash after the other and feeling it hot under his touch. he chuckles, showing the barrage of mentions and messages he's recieved, "see, i'm not totally sure but i think they're saying we're on a holiday. together."

"me with daniel ricciardo?" you gasp for added effect, "i couldn't possibly."

"i know, where could they have gotten it from?" he sighs dramatically. "i'm woefully alone."

"and i'm utterly heartbroken," you touched your chest with a fake pout, "on a soul searching rendezvous."

"we're a bit pathetic." he tilts his head, a grin forming on his face. "but in-a-totally-chill way." you giggle.

"it's nice to be sad and pathetic together, though." he nods his head with a laugh, "ditto." you toast your respective icecream cups.

you both settle into comfortable silence, watching the generic comedy film playing on the television. daniel's arms felt comfortable around you, and you naturally fell into his embrace... he felt safe, and warm.

"thanks for being a friend dani." you mumble, on the prepice of sleep.

"... someday.." you were too incoherent to understand what he said in reply, only faintly registering his lips on the top of your head.

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 1,799,682 others.

carlossainz55 hace más calor en españa

*It's hotter in spain

username carlos thirst trapping his way back into yns life is so ex boyfriend lore 😭😭😭

username daniel fight back !!

username you won't even have to tell me twice

username yn i won't blame you🫡

username why would you say something so controversial and so brave???

username LOOK AWAY YN IT'S A TRAP

username let the girl move on damn

username 🚩 but he's a ferrari driver and this good looking so 10/10

landonorris 👀

username weren't you just making out with a random girl the other week?? 🤨

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,692,602 others.

danielricciardo i'm not worried💤

username he violated you carlossainz55

username the girls are fighting hold on💨😳

username YN AND DANIEL CONFIRMED ???

username CARLOS FUMBLED

username daniel just knocked carlos out with this one, 10/10.

username do not let these men back on track fia !!

maxverstappen1 cute

username netflix are you seeing this ??

username sprinkle sprinkle 🥰

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delicateperspective · 3 months ago

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Lyrical Analysis of "Sattelite"

If we analyze Satellite within the context of Harry’s House (played in reverse order), it follows a clear emotional progression:

In Love of My Life, Harry reflects on a relationship that was incredibly significant to him. He lost it, but has now found it again, signaling a reconciliation.*

In Boyfriends, he admits that despite their deep love, the relationship isn’t perfect—they’ve both made mistakes, but they always find their way back to each other.

Now, in Satellite, Harry explores the feeling of waiting. He’s finally ready to fully choose this person, but they aren’t quite ready to choose him—at least not publicly, not completely.

This song captures the frustration of being in love with someone who loves you back but is unable to fully commit because of external circumstances. It’s not unrequited love—it’s love that is being held back.

Lyric Breakdown and Analysis

You got a new life Am I bothering you? Do you wanna talk?

This immediately sets up a distance between them. Louis is on his first solo tour, stepping into a new chapter of his career. Harry wonders if he still has a place in Louis' life, if reaching out is even welcome. There’s hesitation here, like Harry is unsure if Louis even wants to have this conversation.

We share the last line

Many fans assume this refers to cocaine, but in this context, it’ could be referencing either One Direction, where they literally shared the last lines of their songs (such as when Harry closes Over Again with "all over" and Louis used to add "again") or Louis’ album, Faith in the Future, which he was actively recording at the time. (Some believe Harry’s voice can be heard as the backing vocals on the last line of That’s the Way Love Goes. Louis brought attention to this specific part during a fan chat on Twitter where he mentioned loving "the strings at the end".)

Then we drink the wall 'Til we wanna talk

They avoid the conversation. They numb themselves. They wait until they can’t ignore it anymore. This could hint at coping mechanisms—drinking, distractions, public relationships, anything to avoid the pain of not being together.

I go round and round Satellite

Harry is the satellite. He’s orbiting Louis, always close, but never fully reaching him. This is exactly what happened after November 2011—they were still together, still seeing each other, but never able to exist in the same way they did before.

Spinning out, waiting for you to pull me in I can see you're lonely down there Don't you know that I am right here?

He’s feeling lost, waiting, wanting Louis to finally choose him publicly. A satellite can’t pull itself in—it needs gravity, it needs the planet (Louis) to bring it closer. He knows Louis isn’t happy either. Louis might be the one who is physically distant, but Harry sees right through him. This is heartbreaking—Harry is saying, "I’ve never left. I’m still waiting."

I'm in an LA mood I don't wanna talk to you She said, 'Give me a day or two.'

He was filming Don’t Worry Darling in LA, but LA is also a symbol for fakery and PR relationships. Maybe he’s frustrated, maybe he’s tired of waiting. "She said, 'Give me a day or two.'" could be about his PR girlfriend at the time, OW. It could symbolize the artificiality of that relationship—like she needs Harry’s time, but only for the sake of PR. It also contrasts Louis, who Harry is actually waiting for.

Right here, right here Wishing I could be there for you

This is Harry’s core message in the song. He’s always been there, but he’s never been allowed to fully be there for Louis the way he wants to be. He’s waiting, but how long can he wait?

Analysis of the Satellite Music Video

The Satellite music video is essential to fully understanding the song’s meaning. While the lyrics alone convey a sense of longing and waiting, the video amplifies these emotions through the story of Stomper, a small, abandoned robot whose journey mirrors Harry’s feelings of isolation, patience, and the fear of never truly reaching the one he loves. When analyzed alongside the historical context of 2011, the significance of the Curiosity rover, and the heartbreaking ending of Stomper’s journey, it becomes clear that this video is not just a visual accompaniment—it is a metaphorical retelling of Harry’s experience of orbiting Louis for over a decade, waiting for the day they can finally be together.

The Opening Scene: A Calculated Choice

At the beginning of the music video, we see Harry backstage at his concert in pajamas when a staffer greets him. This seemingly mundane interaction is important because it establishes Harry’s normal routine—his life is moving forward, his career is thriving—but something is missing. Then, the camera shifts focus to Stomper, the small robot, appearing for the first time. At this exact moment, a TV screen in the background broadcasts the launch of the Curiosity rover from the Kennedy Space Center on November 26, 2011.

We hear a documentary narrator say: "Launched on November 26th, 2011 from the Kennedy Space Center, Curiosity was born on Mars. It has spent over ten lonely years roaming the surface of the red planet."

The choice to feature Curiosity, a rover rather than a satellite, is significant. If the song is about a satellite, why focus on a rover?

The answer lies in the date: November 2011.

November 2011 was a turning point in Harry and Louis’ relationship.

Before this, they were inseparable, openly affectionate, and constantly together.

But in October 2011, Eleanor Calder was introduced as Louis’ public girlfriend.

In November 2011, One Direction signed their U.S. deal with Columbia Records, marking their official expansion into the American market—a market that was notoriously less accepting of openly gay relationships, especially in boybands.

From this moment on, Harry and Louis’ interactions became more distant, more controlled, and more hidden.

The Curiosity rover’s launch in November 2011 is a direct parallel to Harry and Louis’ forced separation. Just as Curiosity was "born" on Mars, isolated and alone, Harry and Louis entered a new phase of their careers where they could no longer be publicly close. Curiosity has spent over 10 years roaming a planet it can never leave—just as Harry has spent over a decade orbiting Louis. This is why the Curiosity rover is the perfect metaphor for Harry’s experience.

Stomper the Robot

Stomper, the small cleaning robot in the video, is an extension of the Curiosity rover metaphor. Like Curiosity, he longs for connection, but he is stuck in a cycle of waiting, watching, and hoping.

Stomper starts off ignored, unnoticed, insignificant—this is a parallel to the main character in the Adore You music video. Both do not see their lives as worth anything and are quite miserable - until they meet that someone/something special. For Harry, I firmly beleive this was Louis, who showed him he was important and worthy of love.

As soon as he sees the Curiosity rover on TV, he feels a connection—just as Harry might have felt when seeing Louis. We know they were immediate friends. So much so that people have debated if they met before boot camp.

Stomper then breaks free from his routine and starts pursuing something greater, something he longs for. This moment in the video directly parallels Harry’s own journey—this deep connection is found and then they were both off on a life-changing journey and pursuing their dreams.

Stomper’s journey mirrors Harry’s decade-long orbit around Louis, always waiting, never fully reaching him. Inside the concert venue Stomper watches fans, longing for connection. Even through crossing the rainy streets, highways, and landscapes Stomper is determined to find Curiosity, no matter the obstacles. When he takes a moment to stare into his own reflection in a puddle it is a moment of self-doubt. He sees himself as small, insignificant—just as Harry may have felt at times throughout their journey.

The deeper meaning here is clear: Harry is searching for something he fears he may never find—Louis’ full, public commitment.

The most heartbreaking moment of the video is when Stomper finally arrives at the Kennedy Space Center—so close to Curiosity, so close to the thing he has been chasing the whole time—but his battery dies before he can reach it. This moment is devastating because it reflects Harry’s fear that he will never get to be with Louis the way he wants. He has waited for over a decade. He has watched from a distance, orbiting, hoping. But what if he waits forever and it never happens?

Stomper’s battery dying is symbolic of time running out, of patience being exhausted, of the fear that all of this waiting will be for nothing. As Stomper shuts down, alone, just inches away from Curiosity, the video leaves us with an open-ended question: What if Harry never makes it to Louis?

Why the Music Video is Imperative to Understanding Satellite

Without the video, Satellite can be interpreted as just a song about waiting for someone to be ready. But with the video, it becomes a deeply emotional and symbolic story of isolation, endless devotion, and the fear of waiting forever.

The Curiosity rover metaphor directly connects to 2011—the moment their relationship changed and they were forced into distance.

The opening quote highlights the theme of observing from a distance, just as Harry has had to do in his relationship.

Stomper’s journey represents Harry’s decade-long orbit around Louis, always waiting, never fully reaching him.

Stomper’s battery dying before he reaches his goal is Harry’s biggest fear—that he will spend his whole life waiting, only to never truly be with Louis.

The Satellite video is not just a visual accompaniment—it is the key to understanding the pain, devotion, and longing that define the song. It shows that love isn’t always about being together—it’s about the willingness to wait, even when you don’t know if the waiting will ever end.

The Larry of It All

When you piece together the lyrical content of Satellite, the music video’s symbolism, and the historical context of November 2011, it becomes increasingly clear that this song cannot be about anyone other than Louis Tomlinson. While Harry’s public relationships have often been used as a way to attribute meaning to his songs, Satellite does not align with any of the narratives surrounding his ex-girlfriends. Instead, it directly ties back to his decade-long connection to Louis, their forced separation, and the way Harry has continued to “orbit” around him ever since.

The lyric “We share the last line” is one of the most telling clues. If Harry’s vocals really can be heard on the last line of Louis’ song That’s the Way Love Goes, then this lyric is not just poetic—it is literal. This would mean that even after years of distance, Harry and Louis are still collaborating in quiet ways, still leaving traces of each other in their work. No other ex of Harry’s has this kind of musical connection to him. His relationships with women like Taylor Swift and Olivia Wilde were highly publicized, but neither involved the kind of hidden, intertwined songwriting that we see with Louis.

Then there’s the November 2011 connection, which is impossible to ignore. The Satellite music video opens with the launch of the Curiosity rover, explicitly pointing to that time period—the exact moment when Harry and Louis’ relationship changed forever. Before November 2011, they were inseparable, openly affectionate, and constantly together. But as One Direction’s career exploded and their U.S. deal with Columbia Records was finalized, they were forced into distance. Louis was given a public girlfriend, and their interactions became noticeably restricted. The rover metaphor fits perfectly with their story: Curiosity has spent over a decade roaming Mars, just as Harry has spent over a decade “orbiting” Louis, never quite able to reach him again in the way he once could.

This simply does not align with any of Harry’s public exes. His relationship with Taylor Swift lasted only a few months and did not involve years of waiting. His relationship with Camille Rowe ended on his own terms, and he has never given any indication that he was left in a position of longing. His connection with Olivia Wilde was highly visible and did not involve the kind of secrecy and forced separation that Satellite suggests. None of these relationships match the depth of history, restriction, and quiet devotion that the song conveys.

Ultimately, Satellite is not about a fleeting romance or an ex-girlfriend Harry willingly moved on from. It is about someone he has been tied to for over a decade, someone he has never been able to fully let go of, someone he has continued to orbit around despite the distance. The only person who fits that description is Louis Tomlinson.

Final Thoughts

This song isn’t about unrequited love; it’s about love that is held back. It’s about years of restriction, of external forces preventing them from fully being together. The music video reinforces this theme, using the Curiosity rover’s launch in November 2011 as a parallel to the moment Harry and Louis were forced into distance. The satellite metaphor perfectly captures Harry’s role in this dynamic—always orbiting, always near, but never quite able to land where he truly wants to be.

The fear that Stomper’s battery dying represents is one of running out of time. What if he waits forever, only to never truly reach the person he loves? This is why Satellite is so devastating—it’s not just about longing, it’s about the uncertainty of waiting.

Ultimately, Satellite is a song about enduring love, about waiting for the person you can’t let go of, even when you don’t know if they’ll ever fully come back to you. In the context of Harry’s House in reverse, it’s the moment of waiting that bridges the gap between pain and reunion. It’s about hope, but also about the fear that hope might not be enough.

#harry's house album #lyric analysis #album analysis #sattelite

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bitingdrivers · 3 months ago

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part two of Max with kitty ears - maxiel, 980 words

Daniel stirs awake with Max still soundly asleep on top of him. He carefully fishes his phone out of his shorts and checks the time – they've been asleep for no more than a couple of hours.

Slowly he extracts his other hand out of Max’s shorts, hoping it won't wake him. Max stirs and tightens his arms around Daniel's torso but doesn't wake up.

Daniel waits a few seconds then unlocks the camera app and takes about a dozen of pictures and videos of them together: of Max, cuddled to his chest, of Daniel's hand in his hair, petting the ears.

He saves all of them to his blackmail folder, along with pictures of Max making breakfast in their kitchen, wearing only Daniel's bright pink socks; Max, wine drunk, passed out in their bed, hugging one of his trophies; a selfie of them, Daniel smiling at the camera, covered in lipstick kisses, Max, hiding his blush being his hands in the background; a few nudes from their message thread.

Then he cards his hand through Max’s hair, scratching behind one of the ears – it seems to finally wake him up. Max grumbles and cuddles to Daniel harder, squeezing his ribs.

“Morning, sunshine,” Daniel murmurs, smiling gently.

Max yawns and his ears flatten back to his head. “It's 4 p.m.,” he groggily points out and lifts himself from Daniel's chest.

“It's morning somewhere,” Daniel shrugs and sits up too, rubbing his neck, it doesn't always agree with Daniel's love for napping on the couch.

“I'm hungry,” Max says, standing up from the couch and stretching, arms behind his head.

Ooh big stretch, Daniel thinks, but doesn't say, because he, not for the first time, gets distracted by Max’s stomach peeking from under his t-shirt.

Daniel follows him to the kitchen. “Alright, what do you want? Milk? Fish?” he pauses, “A mouse?”

Max looks at him, ears flat, annoyed expression on his face like Daniel is one of those journalists with stupid questions.

“Stop being silly or I will ask Jimmy and Sassy to pee in all of your shoes,” he threatens.

“You can speak cat?” Daniel gasps.

He always wanted to know what the two demons think when they sit and stare at a random corner. Or maybe they can finally ask the cats if they do actually feel sad when the bedroom door is closed, as Max always claims.

“No, but they will understand me anyway,” Max replies and hoists himself on the kitchen counter.

“Fair,” Daniel concedes and opens the fridge. Max’s ear flicks at the sound.

“How does it feel, by the way?” Daniel asks, taking out a can of Redbull and handing it to Max. “Having the ears?”

Max cracks open the can and takes a sip. Daniel decides to make sandwiches.

“Weird,” Max says, playing with the tab. “I know they are of course because of the curse, but sometimes I forget. It’s like I always had them,” he muses, rubbing one of the ears.

Daniel hums, moving around Max to take out the ingredients, a cutting board and a knife.

“Sounds are louder, that's the only difference I think,” Max says, stealing a piece of ham from the cutting board.

“You never told how they cursed you,” Daniel prompts, slicing the cheese. He cuts an extra slice for Max to steal again.

Max plops the cheese into his mouth, chews. “Because it's not very interesting. This girl sprinkled a powder on my head,” he explains before taking a sip of his Redbull.

Daniel doesn't know a lot about curses, but that sounds about right. Probably the reason it won't work for long. They are lucky that it was a fangirl essentially pulling a prank on Max, and not someone who actually wanted to harm him.

“Why cat ears anyway?” Daniel asks once the sandwiches are finished, and both of them are sitting at the dining table.

“The doctor said it's probably random,” Max shrugs and takes a bite. He chews a little and hums, pleased.

Daniel feels pride blooming in his chest. He's not the best at cooking, but the meals he does know how to make are good, or better than good, according to Max.

“What animal would I be?” Daniel asks after taking a bite too. “If I got cursed?”

“Hm,” Max hums, squinting at Daniel. He turns his head a little while thinking. Cute.

“I think a poodle, maybe?” he suggests with a smirk.

Daniel lets out an undignified sound. “A poodle?!” he splutters. “They don't even have ears!”

Max looks like he's about to explode. “Daniel, what? All dogs have ears,” he giggles.

All dogs have ears, but poodles have the most ugly ones, Daniel thinks – or imagines. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw one, or if he ever saw one. Regardless, that’s not the point.

“That's very insensitive, you know,” he huffs while Max laughs. “I thought you would say a honey badger. That's literally my brand,” he grumbles, defensive.

“Do honey badgers even have ears?” Max asks, cackling.

“Do they- Of course they have ears, Max!” Daniel says, exasperated. “Small cute ones, on their head,” Daniel explains, lifting his hands to his hair.

“Awww,” Max coos, the bastard. This is Daniel's brand they're talking about. If Max asked what ears he would get, Daniel would've said lion’s, a hundred percent. It's not like the answer would be wrong – a lion is just a big cat.

“Eat your sandwich,” he huffs, nodding at Max's plate. Daniel needs to come up with a revenge for this. Maybe it's time to use the blackmail folder.

“I love you anyway, Daniel,” Max smiles, settling. “No matter what ears you have.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. Fine, revenge can wait.

“I love you too,” he says begrudgingly. “Even after your cat ears are gone,” he smirks.

Max kicks him under the table and takes a bite of his sandwich.

#not gonna lie friends i absolutelly checked out with punctuation here. oh well. ive never been good with it in any of the languages lol #my writing #maxiel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #f1 fic #f1 #kitten curse max #using this au to write domestic maxiel. the kitten ears are not even the point on this part huh

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dixons-sunshine · 10 months ago

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Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons Part 5 | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word count: 592.

A/n: Focusing back on them before the apocalypse for now. And the last part personally had me giggling. Kids, huh? Anyways, I hope you like this!

Specially dedicated to my biggest supporter on this au, @ddamm.

★ Daryl bought his own motorcycle shortly after the two of you moved into your final apartment.

★ He had spent years saving up for it, even hesitantly accepting any money you wanted to add to the savings for his motorcycle.

★ He was hesitant to take your money because he felt bad. He didn't want you to “waste” money on him, money that you could use to buy yourself something nice.

★ However, you were adamant, and your contribution to the savings helped him immensely.

★ The day he bought his own motorcycle, he was ecstatic. It wasn't anything fancy, but he loved it, and therefore, you loved it as well.

★ You'd been with him for over a decade at that point. You knew practically all the lore surrounding the motorcycling community. Daryl took great pleasure in teaching you everything he knew.

★ It made Daryl happy to know that you took interest in something he liked. He could go on for hours about motorcycles and you wouldn't mind. You'd actively ask questions and ask him to explain something you didn't understand.

★ Daryl was even teaching you how to ride one. It wasn't quite like teaching you how to ride a bicycle, like you had joked when he had suggested teaching you how to ride a motorcycle, but you got better with time.

★ Soon, you were able to ride one on your own, though you still preferred to have the professional—Daryl—ride it instead with you on the back, holding on to him.

★ Going away from motorcycles for a bit, Daryl was also the one that taught you how to drive a car.

★ Merle had essentially given his truck to Daryl way back when, and the old thing surprisingly still worked years later, all the way to the start of the apocalypse.

★ That was the first thing—apart from a bicycle—you ever learned to drive.

★ When Daryl bought his motorcycle, he basically gave you the truck to go to and from work, the supermarket, basically anywhere you wanted to go.

★ During the earlier stages before he bought the motorcycle, he'd go and pick you up from work with his truck.

★ He once picked you up a bit later than usual due to the field trip you had taken your class on, and when you had gotten off the bus to greet him with a cheek kiss, the kids all collectively commented on it, eliciting chuckles from you and your husband.

★ “Ew.”

★ That's also how your class had gotten introduced to your husband. After that, they never stopped asking about him.

★ “Mrs Dixon, how'd you meet Mr Dixon?”

“Mrs Dixon, have you and Mr Dixon ever kissed with your mouths like my mommy and daddy?”

“Mrs Dixon, do you love Mr Dixon?”

★ You had also once gotten a question from one of the kids that had you choking and blushing.

★ “Mrs Dixon, do you and Mr Dixon play with your clothes off?”

★ You changed that topic of discussion very quickly. Nope, you weren't gonna teach a bunch of five year olds about sex.

★ It did make for some good comedy when you got back home. Well, for Daryl at least. When you told him about that, he couldn't stop laughing. He found the question hilarious.

★ “Well, what'd ya tell him?”

“I didn't say anything. I changed the topic.”

“Ya could've said yes. We do “play with our clothes off” a bunch'a times.”

“Daryl, I'm not gonna say that! Do you know how many parents would be plotting my murder?”

“I know. M'jus' messin' with ya, Darlin'.”

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emandemms · 9 days ago

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i just finished the iliad, so here's the last part of my "the iliad is a comedy too" list. this is a long one (say thank you book 23), i just couldn't help myself.

the following three parts are linked below!! i also might make a post compiling the whole list!

part one

part two

part three

- aeneas telling achilles to stop yapping on the battlefield when it was actually HIM who was in the middle of a good old homeric "this is my dad and this was his dad and his dad did this" speech.

- achilles damn near about to crash out when apollo kept protecting hector. this man tried to kill hector FOUR TIMES and apollo just yanked hector out of the way each time. achilles was like "oh, so apollo favors you? yeah, well, if any of the gods like me, next time i see you, i'm gonna FUCK YOU UP!!!"

- achilles beefing with a river.

- like dude, stop KILLING people in the water, you're clogging the river and that's just not cool. respect the environment, asshole.

- book 21 is really just "angry man yells at river before being swept away by the waters of divine fury".

- athena decking ares and aphrodite. she was really sick and tired of them at this point.

- posideon essentially calling apollo a little shit when apollo kept siding with the trojans.

- apollo sending achilles on a wild goose chase while disguised as a trojan. it's giving tom and jerry, i can't even lie.

- achilles beefing with apollo. just in general.

- this can also be extended to: apollo beefing with achilles. and we all know how that ends!!!

- hector being bamboozled by his own idea of trying to beg for mercy and understanding from achilles. he really was like "why the fuck am i trying to problem solve this, the guy wants me dead. ain't no way he's gonna listen to anything i say".

- a popular favorite that i think deserves a quick mention: hector and achilles running around troy three fucking times. tom and jerry part two????? except this is an alternate universe where tom catches jerry and it's not pretty.

- nestor giving antilochus advice on how to win the chariot race even though antilochus knows what he's doing.

- this is extra funny when antilochus turns around and cheats to get ahead of menelaus. an asshole move, but so incredibly real and i can't even say i blame him.

- apollo knocking diomedes' whip out of his hand during the race. out of spite.

- it's actually because diomedes had taken aeneas' horses in book 5 and diomedes was using them in the race, but still. petty and spiteful and i love it.

- athena immediately rushing to grab the whip to return it to diomedes. athena is playing favorites again and she's not even trying to hide it.

- lesser ajax and idomeneus bickering during the chariot race. SPECIFICALLY idomeneus telling lesser ajax "young man, you're real good at arguing and bitching, but man, where the fuck are your brains at?"

- the ONE TIME achilles is mentioned smiling is when antilochus is throwing a fit about not receiving his due prize and i think that's beautiful.

- achilles really saw his friend complaining and said "that's my bro how can i NOT give him exactly what he wants?"

- menelaus tearing into antilochus and shaming him for cheating during the race in front of everyone.

- mans really told antilochus to swear on posideon that he didn't cheat so of course antilochus is like "shit shit i can't make that oath because i did cheat and i am NOT getting on the shit list of any god".

- so antilochus is like "okay menelaus, my bad old man, i'm just so young and spry that i can't help myself sometimes".

- and then he just gives menelaus the mare that was the second place prize to avoid making an untrue oath while STILL managing to insist he won fair and square.

- smart guy.

- menelaus also being like "okay, i forgive you because you are usually pretty well behaved so let's just chalk this up to like, temporary insanity or something".

- AND THEN menelaus gives the mare BACK to antilochus.

- menelaus is a softie at heart and antilochus knew it and absolutely took advantage of it and WON. bro played the long game and it was so worth it. this whole sequence was so entertaining to me, can you tell?

- nestor, the absolute icon that he is, once again going off on one of his rants. everyone say "i heart nestor".

- the footrace between lesser ajax, odysseus, and antilochus.

- namely odysseus praying to athena to help him win the race, which she does, of course. she gives odysseus a little boost and she TRIPS lesser ajax, which causes him to fall face first into a pile of cow shit.

- it gets in his mouth and nose y'all, it's nasty as fuck.

- i also think it's funny that odysseus is the oldest of the three of them, and even without athena's help at the end he was right behind lesser ajax the entire time.

- of course i have to mention lesser ajax whining about the fact that athena dotes on odysseus like a mother.

- and odysseus not saying anything to argue because he knew lesser ajax wasn't really wrong about that.

- antilochus also saying that the gods have a habit of favoring old men.

- old man odysseus for the win!!!!!

- it also cracks me up at how obvious it is that achilles favors antilochus y'all, it's HILARIOUS.

- antilochus goes after the race and starts talking about how "odysseus is an old man, but boy, he's almost as fast as achilles!" and achilles is over here like "yeah, he totally is, you're so right. here, have some more gold for being my number one hype man".

#while achilles chasing hector around troy three times is kinda funny #i can't help but think that must've been absolutely terrifying for hector #like imagine being chased around the walls of your great city and your home by a man who wants nothing more than your head on a stick #and you know he's capable of doing so #scary as fuck don't even #will never recover from hector thinking that athena was really deiphobus either #like it was actually so sad when he realized that he had been tricked and led to his death #book 24 had me in shambles too #achilles and priam weeping together is all i'm gonna be able to think about for a while. the exploration of grief goes crazy #the iliad #iliad #odysseus #achilles #hector #antilochus #menelaus #lesser ajax #ajax the greater #aeneas

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yridenergyridenergy · 24 days ago

Text

Sukekiyo 2025/04/21 "Makoto, Ryougan Chishibaru" live report

-Setlist-

Candis

MOAN

Aishita Shinzou

breeder

Houmonsha X

Creeper

Sharara

Honnou okotowari

mystery na

Kashikomi Kashikomi

Frame out kara no

(session)

anima

-encore-

Kashikomi Kashikomi

I'm not really going to write much about Kirito's part. No one wants my opinion on his songs. He did nine or ten songs, and he was reading almost all the lyrics that were in Japanese. If there are any Pierrot fans reading this, could you please explain? The fact that he constantly had to look down at his memo sheets, even having to step back from the crate to make sure he could see the words well... There's something very wrong about this. Is it a lack of self-confidence, or something medical? We got a sheet for his tour this month and the next, so it's not like he has zero experience and practice. And I'm clearly sensitive to memory disorders myself - that's why I write these reports to begin with - but I've never heard of a singer reading so much.

Other than that, one major difference that I noticed between Kirito's band's presence on stage and Kyo's bands' is the lighting. The musicians were constantly lit up, even if there was a backdrop video. It definitely made the show a lot weirder and less submersive than Kyo's bands. Fans of Kirito probably get much better pictures, but performance-wise, there's nothing like being bathed in darkness, apparently.

Kirito did MCs. From what I gathered, he teased the fact that sukekiyo fans are referred to as "torii-chan". He said it was cute, like fragile. I think he had his fans shout in comparison, and it seemed to be mostly male voices hah. Kirito also said something about Kyo but I was totally confused with my basic level of understanding for verbal Japanese because he never added a suffix after Kyo's name... It seemed to be about the discussion on the title of the show.

Onto sukekiyo, what a fucking show! I'm so glad people are now at the level of physical excitement as I was two years ago, pretty much on my own hah. It was amazing, the crowd followed everything and reacted to the songs even if we didn't know at first whether we could clap, let alone cheer after the songs or even when the members walked on stage.

Yuchi wore a kind of tutu skirt, I think? With a weird protruding black bra on top of a white dress shirt. He had a spiky hat, beautiful makeup, black (fingerless?) gloves and goldej rings around his neck. Takumi's hair strands were mostly pink/purple but a couple were blue on his left. He had a kind of black and white suit, I think. Mika wore all black. UtA wore a black ensemble with buttons all down the front, like a school uniform. His hair was either blond or pink, slightly puffy.

Kyo wore two articles from Adidas:

I think he hiked up the skirt higher than the model in this picture, because it appeared puffy, and it definitely seemed like a lot of his thighs was showing. Due to how Club Citta is constructed, I have no clue what shoes he wore. He also had large glasses, like in the breeder PV, and he added a couple of blond extensions to the sides of his head, in bows.

Candis was awesome as usual, the extension at the start really enhancing the song. I can't get enough of Kyo's sudden knee drops in this performance! I hadn't known whether we even needed penlights for the show - Kyo usually warns us ahead of time. When I realized which it was and that it needed a penlight, I rummaged through my bag, but like a sign of life, one penlight started flashing out of the three: the right one!

It was my first time witnessing MOAN with the penlight. We essentially do our best to replicate Kyo's moves in the chorus.

Aishita Shinzou is kind of where we started being less stiff, I think. Kyo asked us to sing a few times, and he was jumping and dancing (the dance reminds me of North American Indigenous dances) a lot. Oh and he did the finger-in-his-mouth thing before jumping!

breeder came on and woah, the PV plays in the background but whatever, what a banger, as expected! Kyo at first asked us for a few "kill my mind", but near the end of the song, we were basically tasked with them all, essentially wrapping up the song ourselves. I think we also had to do one or two "how much am I worth?" At first, it was just Mika and Yuchi playing. Yuchi had this big bass placed vertically. Kyo looked at us and nodded, hopefully when he saw that many of us were excited for the song to be performed.

And you know what? To be honest, there's something to be appreciated with projecting a PV that doesn't feature Kyo behind him on stage. It's always weird when they show the PVs since Kyo is different and unique, so he has starkly different looks and he doesn't always move the same way on stage and on screen. Having some rando isn't distracting, in that sense.

At some point, Kyo briefly asked us, seemingly out of curiosity, if this was indeed a "Ceremony of Liberation", to which we cheered and understood that we could let loose completely.

In Houmonsha X, I found Kyo to move less than he did in the Jetblack Ceremony performances, but maybe because he compensated then for the fact that nobody else could move. Even the musicians were hella concentrated and immobile during the instrumental parts. At least now, we could dance.

I got to see Creeper live! The pot-stirrong at the beginning, all the little moves throughout this song! Kyo asked us to shout the "kaeru"s sometimes, and I seem to recall that Kyo pointed a lot to us based on the lyrics.

Before this point, maybe in Aishita Shinzou, Kyo walked over on the right side of the stage and he was teasingly chewing his index in his mouth with a grin while staring at us, as if considering who he'd ask out.

Sharara and Honnou okotowari were very nice, but I don't necessarily remember anything specific right now. Probably because it involved a ton of headbanging? I think Kyo might have moved sensually more at the end of Honnou okotowari than at the beginning, even though that's how the song sounds with his low singing? And it's lovely that Kyo changed the tone of the third or fourth paragraph in Honnou okotowari to ramble on in a high-pitched voice as though he's 'bitchly vexed' and disappointed.

For mystery na, I haven't heard the studio recording beyond the audio teaser that they added on YouTube a week or so ago. They kept the essential parts of it, but there's a weird kind of empty section near the end? We were also expected to sing a part that sounds like: "...smile" but hey, most of us haven't had the chance to listen to it yet, so it showed. Otherwise, I loved how Kyo rapped, and how he made a gesture from his chest to three parts of the crowd for the "ha haha haha" part after "Odoreeeee", as though he was distributing the wealth or some emotion.

Kashikomi Kashikomi played next and it's crazy how everybody in the band is super demanding of us even in this super short song hah. For some reason, there's an emphasis that the 🙏 be bumped upward, and since the song is about ditching the concept of sexes/genders, I must say I'm confused. When Kyo sings the "woman?" "man?" part, at least once he pointed to Yuchi for one of them, and UtA for the other, before going crazy growling the rest and leading us to the headbanging part.

Frame out kara no was as cool as I expected, even if Kyo didn't do the same "throwing his hands in the air and walking around mad" move like in the video I posted recently. There was a ton of gesturing of a camera frame, and Kyo adlibbing or again changing the tone of some lyrics to act really disappointed by the resulting photograph that he held so much hope for. And when he sings about stabbing, he goes straight to Yuchi, who has his back turned because of whatever instrument he plays then, and Kyo boldly gestures stabbing him, before retreating to his central position.

Sukekiyo then started playing an improvised session, with Takumi peoducing a simple melody on the piano at first. I can't remember all of Kyo's lyrics, but it was about finding someone, something killed, tears, etc. and it became very intense rather quickly, with him shouting out his emotions. At that time, a lot of hands at the front of the crowd got up and became really agitated, so I was thinking that they were vibing way too much with Kyo and believing that they were the ones who resonated with him the most, but no, I guess they were frantically pointing out that someone had a medical emergency right there. The band kept performing like professionals.

Anima then played and the credits rolled on screen, signaling that it was probably the last song. It was emotional, most people listened stoically, in silence. This time, we started cheering before Kyo had completely walked off the stage.

We clearly didn't get enough sukekiyo with just about a half-show, so we quickly chanted: "ske-kiyo-sama" and man, you gotta love sukekiyo's punctuality. They always start their shows earlier than Dir en grey does, with little delay for latecomers, they took less than thirt minutes to come on stage after Kirito left, and once we called them for an encore, they were back right away.

Kyo asked us, unbothered, if we could go on. He kept alternating between "Ikimasu ka?" and "Ikaremasu ka?", the lattet of which is a much more formal question that would mean ", sir" in another context but which is hard to translate here. He sometimes used a tone that was like that of a polite employee asking a patron for confirmation on their request. He had his hand on his head while asking us that.

Kashikomi Kashikomi was played with somehow even less restraint, more intensity. Kyo took out one, then the second of his ear monitors to hear us, and he headbanged with us a lot. At the end of the song, he promptly walked out while the musicians jammed like a real end of concert. They were all smiles. UtA came to the very end of the other side of the stage and basked in gratefulness at multiple points on his way backstage. Yuchi insisted on us maintaining the Kashikomi 🙏 as high as possible. Mika left promptly the second time, but he had waved broadly at us from behind his screens after the main setlist in acknowledgement.

By the way, when we entered the venue, the staff asked us one by one which band we mainly came to see, and they had a counter for each.

I haven't felt like wanting to run until I collapse and exhaust all this overflowing energy in a long time.

I am definitely not bringing any penlights tomorrow - this show is meant to be danced unhampered!

#京 #Kyo #sukekiyo #club citta #live report #Dir en grey #Kirito

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lilghostiequinni · 1 year ago

Text

Before

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Verstappen!female oc x Lando Norris

Warnings: None really, Fluffy(to me)

Part Summary: Before the people suspect anything, it was really what they wanted more than anything else. Wanted when life wasn't busy for either of them. Because when they first met their lives were hectic, but at least they had gotten each other out of it.

Prologue of the Wasn't Always series; prev. part & next part

Requested: NO / yes

A/N: This is essentially the prologue to the actual series and can be read as a stand-alone. There is no need to read this to understand the series.

2019 Australian Grand Prix

"Oscar, I can't be here. I'm supposed to be getting ready to leave." Kaarina said to her best friend as he basically begged her to go with him to the 2019 Australian Grand Prix.

"Come on. Please, Mom says if you go, I can." Oscar tries to convince her.

"No, she didn't. Your mom wouldn't care 'cause she knows where you are if you did go and if anything, she would be worried about you getting in the suitcase of a driver." Kaarina says with a look of suspicion on her face as she analyzes the younger boy.

"Please, you don't have to leave until Monday; it's only Friday," Oscar begged even more, and for the first showing her the passes he had gotten.

Kaarina looked at the passes and then at the excited Aussie, "Max put you up to this, didn't he?"

Oscar froze and that was all the answer that Kaarina needed as she nodded.

"Of course, he gave you passes on the condition of getting me there." It wasn't a question, but Oscar nodded.

"Fine, which team are you supporting? I'll play fake girlfriend for your real girlfriend because Max definitely only gave you two passes." Kaarina told as Lily walked into the room.

Oscar's eyes got wide as he realized the truth of the matter: he only had two passes, and Max didn't give him a third.

Lily chuckled, just hearing the end of what Kaarina said and then the look in her boyfriend's eyes and the apologetic look he got when he saw her.

"It's okay; Kaarina will take care of you; she does it any other time. I don't want to go, but you do." Lily says as she kisses Oscar's cheek and lets out a relieved sigh.

Kaarina chuckles at the two; while she is a couple years older than both of them, she is still really good friends with the two as she and Oscar met when she lived in Australia because their parents knew each other.

"You know, sometimes, I feel that it's not my best friend and my girlfriend, but my girlfriend and my girlfriend's girlfriend," Oscar says as he looks at the two in front of him.

The two just chuckle at him, making Oscar roll his eyes.

"Which team are we supporting, you teit?" Kaarina asks between the chuckles and giggles.

"McLaren." Oscar dead-pans as he looks between the two, and Kaarina nods.

Kaarina went to change out of the comfy clothes she had on just as Lily started speaking, "You know that is basically your girlfriend when I'm not around, to make sure everyone knows you're taken and mine."

"I am, but there is no need for that." Oscar points out.

"Nope, you can't convince me otherwise. Rina is the stand-in girlfriend when I'm not around. Just know that it's the same when you aren't around when we go shopping." Lily tells him before following Kaarina, and Oscar just looks after his girlfriend in confusion.

"So what was it my brother told you that you agreed to force me along to the race? Because I know it wasn't just the passes," Kaarina says as she walks next to Oscar in the paddock area, making their way around.

"He told me I could support any team; it didn't have to be Red Bull," Oscar said, then he looked over to his best friend, who had a very unimpressed look on her face, knowing that it was more than just that. "He also said he would get me to the next three races I was at, no matter how short the notice."

Kaarina just rolled her eyes.

"I still think you should have changed before we left," Oscar states.

"Why? What's wrong with my outfit? You said, McLaren," Kaarina says as she looks down at her outfit.

"Yes, but did you really have to put on the Max Verstappen Air Forces?" Oscar points out, looking at her shoes.

"Hey, I will support McLaren, but also my brother," Kaarina says as she pokes Oscar in the arm.

"Isn't Carlos McLaren?" Oscar asks her, even though he knows the answer.

"Yes, my cousin is in McLaren, and he understands; also, I am supporting him," Kaarina pulls up her sleeve and shows the beaded bracelets that she has either stolen or gotten from her brother and cousins to hold and just never given them back.

"Did you steal all of those?" Oscar accuses as they get nearer to the McLaren paddock which has the Red Bull paddock rather close.

"No, the three gave me a couple and just never asked for them back. Also, I bought like three," Kaarina answers a little defensively.

Oscar just shakes his head at her as he sees Max waiting rather close to McLaren for what is assumed as his sister.

"Wait here?" Kaarina asks as she sees her brother; Oscar nods and waits for Kaarina to get done talking to her brother.

"How come he can get you to come but not me?" Max questions as he catches his sister in a hug.

"Because he was bribed and really wanted to come, and no one else really did. Also, he can be very convincing when he wants to be," Kaarina says to her brother as she pulls away from him.

Max nods and then looks at his sister's outfit.

"You told him any team, and he chose McLaren. But I am supporting you," Kaarina said when she saw the expression that briefly crossed his face and then showed him her shoes.

Max chuckled at her again and just kissed her forehead as he saw his engineer wave him over, "See you later?"

"Yeah, I'll be here," Kaarina said, wishing he brother luck with a kiss on the cheek before returning to Oscar, who was joined by Carlos.

"Carlos," Kaarina acknowledges him and gives him a hug.

"Ah, McLaren today, yes?" He says, seeing the outfit she was wearing.

"Don't let the sweater fool you, Carlos; she has 33 Verstappen shoes on," Oscar points out to the Spaniard.

"That is okay, no one really looks at shoes," Carlos counters, making the blonde chuckle at her cousin.

Oscar rolls his eyes as he sees something making the Australian walk away from the two with a little pat on the shoulder to Kaarina as he walks that way.

"So, how's the new teammate?" Kaarina asks her cousin as she watches the Piastri boy walk off.

"So far, he has potential," Carlos says with a thoughtful expression.

Kaarina nods, she sees Carlos being waved to and points it out to him.

"Come," Carlos simply says as he makes his way over to the waving person.

"Lando, this is Kaarina Verstappen, Kaarina this is Lando Norris, the new driver," Carlos introduces the two.

"Like Max Verstappen?" Is all Lando can come up with and is cursing himself out in his head, 'That's it "like Max" really Norris.'

"Exactly, I'm his half-sister. We have different mothers," Kaarina tells him, as she holds her hand out to the newest driver.

Lando takes her hand and shakes it as Carlos starts talking again. After the two let go, Lando still doesn't let go of her hand.

"Don't you two share a birthday?" Carlos asked, but it was as though he just randomly, as the quiet settled in between the three, breaking the eye contract which was held by the younger two.

"We do?" Kaarina questioned, a puzzled look crossing her face as she looked away from Lando to her cousin.

Lando also looked away from the woman to Carlos, "What do you mean?"

"You were both born on November 13th, no?" Carlos asks, looking at the two, having no idea that they were not paying attention to what he was previously saying to them as they walked to and partially through the McLaren garage.

"Really? You were born on November 13th?" Kaarina asked with a smile spreading across her face as she watched Lando.

"Yeah, 1999," Lando says as Kaarina's smile gets bigger, making the British man smile, too, as he blushes at seeing the woman smile.

"Me too! Birthday buddies," Kaarina smiles even wider.

Lando smiles at her smiling face as Carlos closely watches to two who seem to have a staring problem.

"Oh, um... Carlos, Lando, I have to go. Time to see the other cousin, but I will be back," Kaarina kisses Carlos's cheek and gives Lando a side hug as she walks out of the McLaren paddock to the Ferrari one.

"You know she didn't have a boyfriend last I knew, but I would check with her friend, Oscar, or her brother, Max. But I guess you just have to ask," Carlos pats Lando on the back before going over to some fans he saw.

Leaving Lando alone to his thoughts.

Kaarina sat with Oscar as she watched the race, as always rooting for her brother or cousins, but now also rooting for the newcomer Lando Norris.

Her mind was distracted by the color of his eyes and the beauty of his smile. He just wouldn't leave her brain or thoughts.

A classic, he fell first and she fell harder.

Again, this, too, was mostly done before I accidentally posted it, twice. I'm just going to accept that I don't like how I end my posts because I'm not entirely happy with it, but I also think it makes sense for how I wanted it to go and how I want the series to go, but this doesn't need to be read to understand the full relationship in the series.

Tags: @samantha-chicago @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you.

#wasn't always #ln4 #lando norris #formula 1 #f1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x reader #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #f1 2024

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ari16bri · 3 months ago

Text

Political essay no one asked for from a white, middle class working mom with no qualifications.

Spoiler alert: I'm a socialist.

I was having a conversation with my left-leaning centrist father today. He was asking lots of questions, which he often does. He wants to understand everything, and he wants to have all the information possible so as to avoid alarmist narratives and unnecessary panic. It's a good way to live, in theory.

In my opinion, I told him, the grace that you afford certain groups in late-stage capitalism will be, and currently is being, used against you and your loved ones. When you ask the question, "but why would they want to ban transgender people if they didn't think they were a danger to society," "but why would they want to ban abortions federally if it will cause the deaths of women and children, if they don't truly see it as murder," "but why would they send undocumented migrants to concentration camps?"

My response was as follows.

"Because they are Nazis."

He doesn't like that response. He is concerned that it's drastic, not logical. And, in theory, it's not logical. He says he knows Nazis have existed before, so it makes sense that they would exist again at some point, but are the people in the American government Nazis? Really?"

I told him, very simply, "yes."

I believe that in a society like the one we exist in today, we all have our roles to play. All of them have their place in fascism. Fascists know that each of these roles exist, and they plan for each of them.

I think a very large percentage of American adults fall into the "uninformed" group. There are malicious uninformed individuals, and there are benign (in itself is malicious) uninformed individuals. There are also both sides of the "informed" group. Unlike the uninformed individuals, there also exists "progressive" informed individuals.

Today I posted on my facebook page,

"When capitalism destabilizes, fascists take over to protect their assets, à la oligarchy."

Unsurprisingly, I got a comment from someone I thought was a benign uninformed individual. Their comment was, "is this referring to the 150 year old people collecting SSI benefits?"

Now, obviously, she is a victim of disinformation.

But, that's not benign. That's malicious. That is her part to play in this fascist downspiral. It's a vital part to play, and they are counting on her to continue doing it. It's unfortunate, and perhaps she will live long enough to be able to regret the part she is playing, but she may also not even be capable of realizing it when it's all said and done.

My coworker couldn't give a shit about politics if she watched someone martyred in the street in front of her. Another vital part being played in favor of fascism, right there. "Benign" uninformed individuals who don't think any of this is "that deep," or they think it's funny, and want to see the world burn because they don't care about anything or anyone. They're not actively fighting the progressive cause, but the fascists don't need them to. They're perfectly content with them staying silent.

Silence = consent, in this case (and in this case only).

Back to my lovely father. I told him that part of understanding and adapting to this new society is to recognize that this society is new to us. It has been brewing under the surface for decades (and then some), yes, but it is quite literally the definition of a capitalistic society in collapse.

What happens when capitalism collapses?

Nazis.

He says he can't wrap his mind around the evil it takes to be that. He says, logically, he knows billionaires exist on the backs of wage workers (and, historically, slaves) and that there is essentially no moral way to be that rich, but how (HOW) could their goal to be even richer? How can the world's most rich and powerful want to be even more rich and more powerful?

I said, "because it is what it is."

Fascists want power and they want money.

They want women to get married and have babies and they want the mommies to read the Bible to the babies before bed every night so those babies grow up to be afraid of Hell and go to work and be good members of society, and buy shit, and get married, and have babies.

I said, "you think Trump gives a shit about babies? You think he believes in Jesus, or gives a shit what Jesus would do? He gives a shit about not going to prison. He wants money. He wants power. Elon, too. That's what Project 2025 is all about. It's not alarmist. It is happening. It's happening right in front of us."

The thing is, as of right now, he is playing his part in the fascist downspiral, too. He is grappling with the reality that the world truly is as insecure as our wildest nightmares, and the likelihood of greed to take control has always been there. It's not easy to grasp. We aren't meant to grasp that concept. We are also not meant to be paying to eat and shit and sleep.

We are living in a society and on an economy that is meant to collapse. That's why it happens time and again. We just happen to be living in the period of time that it's collapsing.

My dad is a good person. He is also a non-conformist. He doesn't want to be told what to do. He's an ally in all senses of the word. He just, unfortunately, is playing a part in their game; giving fascists the benefit of the doubt in hopes that no one can be that evil. But they are. And they're here. And it sucks.

In the 'market place of ideas' it is imperative, quite literally by definition, to exclude fucking fascism from the list of options worth considering. Fascism succeeding removes the 'market place of ideas,' and allowing it to be a fucking option will be the downfall of society.

I can't go to jail, I can't lose my kids, I can't do anything rash. Maybe it would be different if I had nothing to lose. So, my part to play is to be informed. I choose not to conform. I listen to my shitty punk music, and I dye my hair blue and purple, and I pierce my face, and I correct people who are saying stupid shit, and I political-post on facebook to piss my (maliciously informed) grandparents off, and I won't stop.

I was raised an anarchist by both parents. I have the privilege to be an anarchist with a lower likelihood of persecution because of my appearance and generational wealth (though I don't have direct, immediate access to it).

Now, imagine I didn't have rich white grandparents to help me buy my house and pay for my phone, or bail me out of jail if it came to that? Imagine I wasn't white and the trauma that is 'what has the world come to,' wasn't new to me? Imagine being black and knowing this was the case from the beginning- being afraid of cops, instead of actively rebelling them? Imagine I didn't have the privilege to talk back to cops when they stop me for stupid shit, or go out of my way to be loudly non-conformist for fear of being singled out and potentially hurt?

Lord, imagine knowing all of this to be true from the beginning only to be told by everyone with a shred of power in this country that I am over reacting, playing the victim, or that it is actually me who is ruining society, simply by existing?

If my white, wealthy conservative family members are playing the parts of the maliciously uninformed and maliciously informed, what part are those in higher risk communities playing? Cannon fodder? Trans people are in danger, actively. Anyone with a skin tone darker than peach is, too. That's been the case. But the danger has ramped up significantly, and we all see it. Anyone who is playing a part against the fascists, at least.

Those are my thoughts.

ACAB. BLM. Trans rights are human rights. Abortion is health care. Health care should be free.

FUCK Trump. FUCK Elon. FUCK fascists.

#fuck trump #usa #fuck elon musk #fuck meta #fucktrump #politics #trump #america #biden #captain america

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hannahbarberra162 · 9 months ago

Text

hOrnithology for Beginners, Part 6

on Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Note: there's a loose end I forgot to write into this chapter so I'm gonna do an epilogue.

I mentioned this elsewhere, but my work picks up a lot in the fall / winter. I'm still writing, I just have less free time. I liked writing this story a lot, I thought it was fun. Just a lil silly for some laffs.

Marco POV

“Marco, what the fuck.” Thatch was genuinely upset, which was a rare occurrence. Marco grimaced.

“I know, I know.” He put his thumbs on his temples, rubbing his forehead with his index fingers. He knew he was playing a dangerous game by not telling you that he was the Phoenix, but he didn’t think it would end like this.

“No, Marco, really. What the actual fuck?” Thatch was gesticulating wildly with everything he said and getting louder with every word. Marco needed to diffuse this situation before they got kicked out of the restaurant and caused even more trouble for Etta. She’d excused herself quickly after the scene unfolded, picking up your section to work them both. She was trying to hold herself together, but he’d seen some tears on her face. You’d all fucked up, but he’d fucked up the most and had to fix it somehow.

“Let’s go yoi, I caused enough trouble here.” Marco threw money enough to cover the bill down on the table and stood up, walking quickly out the restaurant. Thatch rose immediately, following Marco closely, continuing to berate him.

“That’s just evil, Marco, how could you? You knew that poor girl didn’t know who you were and you lied to her? Both ways? And you were going to her house tonight? That’s messed up, man. That’s low.” Normally Marco would have stopped Thatch’s rant, but he knew he deserved it. He didn’t know how to make amends, but he’d find you and try to get you to understand that he didn’t do it to be mean or spiteful. Things had spiraled and he hadn’t taken control of the situation to suit his own interests. He didn’t think you’d believe him, but he wanted to try. He had a good guess of where you’d go - he took off towards your waterfall.

Your POV

You quickly made your way to your house, grabbing only the essentials you’d need for a few nights out. You’d rather suffer in nature than sit in your house and brood. You couldn’t go back to that job and face the scene of your complete humiliation. Not only that, you really didn’t want to see Etta. Her betrayal had hurt worse than anything else. You expected pirates to be terrible, that wasn’t anything new. But to have your best friend double cross you made you feel like a bullied child again.

You grabbed your supplies, some food, a change of clothes, strapped your blow dart gun to your thigh and hit the road. You knew no one was coming to find you, but you wanted to be gone in case someone saw you on your way. You didn’t want them to get their last laugh while you were still upset. A few days by yourself and you’d be back to the way you’d always been - alone and aloof, but this time bitchier than ever. You walked past a building with wanted posters plastered along the side wall. You’d never really looked before, you didn’t care about any specific pirates. But glancing along the wall of wanted criminals, you quickly saw Marco, his picture showing him half transformed with wings instead of arms. He had a really high bounty - in the billions - he seemed like a big deal. All that meant was that everyone else but you knew he was The Phoenix and no one bothered to let you in on that little secret. You ripped it off the wall in anger. Fuck him.

Making your way to the waterfall, your mind kept returning to Marco’s face as you put everything together in the restaurant. He didn’t seem to have a “gotcha” look like you’d expected. He’d looked shocked, like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe he was a good actor, maybe he really felt that way. Ultimately it didn’t matter since he was the one who hadn’t told you he was a Zoan devil fruit user and let you think he was just some pirate and an unrelated phoenix. You set up your camp rapidly, going through the motions without thinking. You shoved your sleeping gear and food in the tent. You stepped into the pool, swimming towards the waterfall, going through the cascading water to the alcove behind the falls. It was large enough for a few people to relax, or you to wallow in your misery.

You’d chosen to go behind the waterfall for a few reasons. One, Marco wouldn’t be able to follow you, if he wanted to come rub his victory in your face. You weren’t exactly sure about Devil Fruits and water but he probably couldn’t make it through the pool and definitely couldn’t make it behind the waterfall. Two, the loud droning sound of the waterfall was relaxing and drowned out any other sound. Like the sound of crying. You hadn’t cried in years, you always felt that your life was okay compared to a lot of others in the world. You felt guilty crying over something small like your articles being rejected from ornithology journals again when there were people being enslaved the world over, birds being hunted to extinction, and children starving on every island. But in the back of the waterfall, hidden from eyes and ears, you finally allowed yourself to cry. You cried over your lost friendship, your romance gone south, and your memories of the phoenix being tarnished instead of the highlight of your life. You cried for your loneliness, your broken heart, and for finally realizing you’d never fit in anywhere. You sobbed, letting your tears fall while the waterfall concealed you and your sorrow.

You felt exhausted. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off and combined with your crying jag, you felt completely spent. You leaned back against the alcove, hugging your knees. You weren’t hungry or thirsty, you just sat there dazed for long enough that the sun started to make its descent. You thought about coming out from behind the waterfall but lacked the motivation to do so. It was so seldom that you allowed yourself to really dwell on your feelings that when you did it was all consuming. Even though the waterfall was loud, you could hear a little from behind. Loud sounds like shrill bird calls, monkeys howling, and one familiar voice.

“Where are you yoi? I know you’re around here, I see your tent. Please, I just…I want to apologize.” Marco was looking for you, which made you suspicious. You didn’t say anything, he could rot for all you cared.

“Please, I know what I did was wrong. More than wrong, it was cruel. I should have told you from the beginning. Please, let me make it right yoi.” You snorted, you couldn’t think of anything he could do to make it right. He just wanted to apologize to make himself feel better, not you. It was like when adults made kids say sorry, you knew it wasn’t really sincere.

“If you’re behind the waterfall, that’s really clever. I can’t get to you. But…I can outlast you yoi.” You looked towards the sounds as if you could see him. Outlast you? What was he planning to do? Lay siege? Confident in your ability to get him to fuck off, you stayed where you were. He’d get bored of picking on you and leave.

“I have to say, you have nice camping gear yoi. I could use a little rest. And I see you brought more pineapple for me. I’m going to enjoy it since you’re still hiding.” Hiding?! Marco was trying to use your anger against you and irritate you enough to come out so he could talk to you. Well, it wouldn’t work. You had good reason not to talk to him, even if your stomach was growling and you wanted your pineapple. “And you left your sketchbook here, I can finally see your drawings yoi!” You felt your blood boiling in your veins. He had the audacity to use your things and eat your food and look at your private drawings? After he set you up to look like an idiot? Well, you weren’t the only one who’d look like a fool.

“FINE!” you yelled angrily. You went back under the waterfall, heading towards Marco. He hadn’t been lying - he really was eating your pineapple and sitting on your camping chair, looking at your sketchbook. Such a dickhead, you thought to yourself. Coming all the way out of the pool, you stomped up to Marco, grabbing the sketchbook from his hands. You gave him a dirty look and crossed your arms over your chest, protecting your favorite possession. You walked back over a few feet away from Marco, putting space between you. You had nothing to say to Marco, so you just glared at him.

“I deserve everything you’re thinking and more yoi. You can let me have it,” Marco said remorsefully, hand on his heart. So you obliged him and did just that. You shot him with your blow gun.

Marco POV

Marco was a seasoned pirate. He had fought thousands of opponents and was the first Commander for an Emperor of the seas. Marco was known for his lethal fighting style and ability to recover from attacks, which was reflected in his billion Beri bounty. And yet, you had managed to hit him with your blow gun. To your credit, for a civilian you were incredibly fast. And he hadn’t been expecting you to attack him and was caught off guard. The dart itself didn’t hurt him much, but it didn’t feel great either. Marco yanked the dart out of his left thigh, looking it over. Something appeared to be dripping off the tip that wasn’t his blood. He started experiencing mild itchiness around the wound site but ignored it.

“Ow,” Marco muttered. “I deserved that yoi.” You were smiling like you’d won the lottery.

“You did,” you replied, pleased with yourself. “You might want to go home now,” you continued. Marco wasn't worried, he healed the puncture wound instantly.

“I’ll be OK, the dart didn’t hurt that much -” Marco paused as he caught himself scratching his thigh. It was true that he could recover from almost anything, but not quite everything . Marco hoped his intuition was wrong. “Was there anything on the dart?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Of course there was. Darts wouldn’t be an effective poaching deterrent if they weren’t poisoned.” You smiled even wider.

“Ah. It wasn’t that Peel Rhino venom, was it?” Marco secretly sent a prayer to every god he had ever heard of, trying to keep his fingernails from digging into his skin. You huffed.

“Even I’m not that cruel ,” you said, throwing his earlier words back in his face. You gave Marco an indecipherable look. “You’re going to have a rough time, but no, it wasn’t an aphrodisiac. If you fuck with me again, next time it will be. You’re going to have round bulls eye rashes that are hot to the touch and are incredibly itchy. Lasts about 8 hours. Hope you have zinc oxide and ferric oxide.” Marco was thankful you’d shared that information with him, he was already feeling more spots starting to bother him. He wondered if shifting would help but he doubted it. Like Ace had discovered, some toxins couldn’t be helped by Devil Fruits. He’d probably be able to clear it faster than 8 hours, but it depended on the specific toxin. Marco sighed heavily. This conversation would be uncomfortable physically and emotionally.

Your POV

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to be like this, I should have told you from the beginning. I wish I could go back and change things.” Marco was contrite, having dropped his act to irritate you. At least he had the decency to look remorseful for you, that was a nice touch. But he might just be more open to being nice now that you’d shot him. His hand kept drifting down towards his muscled thigh as the itching got worse. You’d accidentally pricked your finger once with the toxin and it had felt like ants were under your skin.

"Yeah, I don’t forgive you. Leave me alone” you interrupted. You didn’t give a shit what he felt, you wanted him gone and you thought the toxin would do the trick. Marco was powering through much longer that you expected him to. You were a little glad he’d stayed, getting your anger out felt good. He stood in front of you and you could almost watch the rash developing in front of your eyes.

“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness -”

“You don’t.”

“And I’m not asking for it. Can I please just apologize to you yoi?” You wavered a little in your mind, even if nothing in your expression or body language changed. Some small part of you wanted to hear him admit what he’d done and hear how it had hurt you. Not that it would make you forgive him, but it was rewarding to finally have someone admit wrong-doing after a lifetime of weak non-apologies.

“Say what you want, I can’t stop you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was the Phoenix. At the very beginning, I thought you knew yoi. When I realized you didn’t, I should have told you right away.” Marco scratched his thigh through his pants.

“Why didn’t you?” Thinking back to those times when you were with the Phoenix made you cringe. You’d swam naked in front of him, for quite a while. You had been feeling a little bad about the toxin but remembering that tidbit made you happy he was itchy again.

“I don’t know how to explain it exactly, the Phoenix is a part of me but it is also its own separate entity. It really likes you yoi. It liked the way you acted towards it, and I did too. I…it made me feel good,” Marco finished lamely. “But that doesn’t mean it was right yoi. I’m sorry. I regret making you feel -”

“Ashamed? Humiliated? Mortified?” you helpfully supplied for him.

“Yes. All of those yoi. I know you don’t want to see me anymore but I thought I could do one thing for you.” You narrowed your eyes as Marco scratched harder. What could he possibly offer you?

“You shouldn’t scratch it, that makes it worse. And I don’t want anything from you.” You did actually. You wanted him to hold you in his talons and fly in the sky. But he didn’t need to know that.

“You might yoi. I know you want to know more about the Phoenix. I’ll answer any questions you have and allow you to sketch whatever you want. You can publish the information as long as it doesn’t compromise my or my crew's safety.” You made no movements but inside you were freaking out. If you were able to find out information from Marco, maybe one of your articles would finally get published and you’d be able to join the Ornithological Society of the Grand Line. Joining the OSGL had been your dream for as long as you could remember. Marco transformed one of his legs into talons to scratch at the other as he waited for your answer. His control over his Zoan form was incredible, maybe you could…no. You didn’t want him to think you’d forgiven him. Before you could speak, Marco had sliced through his pants with his talons in an effort to scratch his leg.

“I’m afraid I have to leave yoi. I’m going to try finding ointment that can help. Think about it, I don’t need an answer now. I’ll come back here tomorrow at noon. If you’re interested, we can talk yoi. If not, you never have to see me again. Take care.” With that, Marco transformed his arms into wings and flew off into the evening air. He was still scratching at his left thigh in phoenix form. Served him right.

Even though you were furious with him, you still couldn’t look away from the sight of the heavenly bird.

You had the whole night ahead to decide what to do. After Marco left, you took out the Phoenix feather he’d given you. It had some kind of bio-luminescent properties and glowed in the moonlight. You ran it along the skin of your arm, enjoying the soft sensation. It didn’t feel like a normal feather, it felt like having your fingers near a tea candle. You could almost feel the warmth of the candle, but not quite, it was just out of your grasp. It made you shiver no matter how many times you’d run it over your skin. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it, no matter how badly Marco had hurt you. It was too beautiful, too precious and you didn’t want to squander such an invaluable item.

Deep in thought, you pondered Marco’s offer. Your articles had been rejected many times from the OSGL, no matter how interesting you thought the subject matter was. If you wrote about the Phoenix, your article would be accepted for sure, given how little information was known about mythical birds in general. And you’d be able to get reliable information out of Marco rather than relying just on your observations or theories.

On the other hand, if you accepted Marco’s offer, you’d tacitly be accepting his apology. Your ego still stung from the wounds he had inflicted. But…you doubted you’d ever get another chance like this. Marco had practically handed you a once in a lifetime opportunity, one that could catapult you into ornithological fame. It was a twist of fate that the same person who would be helping you achieve your dreams was the one who had crushed your desires. You stayed up late into the night, watching the stars, thinking of how to solve your dilemma.

At noon the next day, you were waiting in the spot Marco had indicated, holding a notebook and pen at the ready. You weren’t sure this was the right call, but your curiosity would only be satisfied one way. Marco arrived promptly, again half transformed. He had no visible rashes, but looked tired.

“You’ll answer all my questions?” you asked coolly. You didn’t want him to think he was off the hook just yet but you were bursting with questions for him. Once you had decided you were going to take Marco up on his offer, you wanted to go all in.

“To the best of my ability yoi.” Marco yawned. You gave him your meanest smile.

“Rough night?”

“Unbelievable yoi. I haven’t been that itchy and uncomfortable since…I can’t remember. Do you distill that toxin yourself? You could have a career in poisoning yoi.” Your smile turned a touch more genuine. You did make it yourself and it was a taxing process.

“I don’t have sympathy for you -”

“and neither did anyone else. My brothers were rooting for you to shoot me again today yoi.”

Arching an eyebrow, you continued “well, hopefully it doesn’t come to that. I do have a lot of questions for you. So tired or not, I hope you keep your end of the deal.” Marco smiled calmly.

“Have at it yoi.”

“What do the other colors you get from the phoenix’s cones and rods look like? And can you see them in human form? Or just bird form?” Marco appeared surprised.

“I’m not sure I follow yoi.” You rolled your eyes. He didn’t even know about his own biology?

“Birds have five types of cones, which support tetra-chromatic color vision and a double cone which is thought to mediate achromatic motion perception. Humans only have three types of cones in their eyes. Ergo, you can see different color spectrums when you’re in bird form. What does that look like? Can you describe it?” Marco’s eyes widened slightly.

“You know, I never looked up why my vision is so much more vibrant as the Phoenix yoi. That makes a lot of sense. I’m not sure I can describe it exactly, it’s like more shades and depth to the colors we already see.” You jotted down a few notes.

“I hope the rest of your answers are better than that, otherwise this isn’t going to be worth it. OK, next question. When you’re half transformed, are the transformed bones hollow? Can you feel the difference in weight when you’re flying between your hollow bones and your regular bones?”

Marco’s POV

Marco rubbed the back of his neck as you continued your interview. At times it felt more like an interrogation, but his Phoenix half was absolutely loving the experience. You stayed seated on your rock, writing Marco’s answers down at a furious pace. The Phoenix took all your interest as praise and was utterly charmed by you. If Marco didn’t control himself, the Phoenix would have broken out into birdsong for you. Your questions were precise and interesting, prompting him to think about things he hadn’t before. Marco found himself enjoying the discussion. He was used to answering the same questions over and over. Questions like, did he enjoy flying (yes, of course), how did he transform only some parts of his body (practice), can he understand normal birds (yes, if his head was transformed), did he lay eggs (no), things like that. No one had ever asked him if he molted (yes) and if so, if it was complete or partial (partial). He’d never given thought to the unnamed yearning he sometimes felt when he was on land for long stretches before you asked him if he ever felt compelled to migrate. Both he and the Phoenix were engaged and throwing themselves into the conversation, answering your questions fully. Of course Marco didn’t answer anything that could be used against him in combat, but your questions were so esoteric he couldn’t imagine the uses beyond pure scientific research.

You also had Marco pose periodically in various stages of transformation for you to draw. You took your time sketching the exact anatomy of numerous body parts. The Phoenix was in heaven, your undivided attention to every detail of its body giving Marco the chills. Marco watched you sketch, completely absorbed in your work. Your sketches were perfect, capturing the essence of the Phoenix with just a few strokes of your pencils. He wished he could keep some but he knew better than to ask for one. After a few sketches, you’d resume asking him questions. This process went on for hours, but Marco never tired of it. If anything, he enjoyed your company more and more.

“Finally, do you form monogamous pair bonds? And if so, for how long?” you asked without a hint of shyness. Marco was nonplussed at your bold question, especially given the situation between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m going to answer that one yoi. If the World Government found out that I had a pair bond for any amount of time, that person would never be safe.” Marco didn’t want to answer you, he was sidestepping the question. He knew that he and the Phoenix preferred a single monogamous partner but that was difficult when he spent so much time at sea. The Phoenix didn't care about the tension between the two of you and would have happily accepted a pair bond between you at this very moment.

“All right. Well, thank you. If you can get mail, I’ll send you a copy of my article if it gets published.” Marco was hoping you’d ask for him to take you flying. That would be a surefire way to get further back in your good graces. Instead, you offered him your hand. “I’m still a little mad but thank you.” Marco swallowed his disappointment and took your smaller hand in his own, shaking it.

“I know it will get published, yoi. If you write like you draw, you’ll be a famous scientist soon.” You gave him a small smile.

“Bye.” You started packing up your things. Marco knew this was it, his time with you was over.

“Thank you for letting me talk with you. I…wish I had done things differently yoi.”

“Me too,” you said quietly. “But it’s time for you to go. Bye Marco.” Marco took his cue, transformed and left. He turned his head and watched you marvel at the sight of him one last time.

~~~

Seven Months Later…

Marco came to the top deck of the Moby, he’d heard that Doug had brought a letter for him. The old, cantankerous news coo hated everyone, including Marco. Approaching the bad tempered bird slowly, Marco saw Doug had a large envelope in his satchel with Marco’s name on it. He could only think of one person that might like this uncooperative coo and use him as a mail courier. Marco reached for the letter, got bit by Doug, and took the letter from his satchel. Doug gave Marco the bird equivalent of the finger and flew off.

Opening the envelope, Marco slid out a heavy scientific journal with art of a Phoenix on the front cover. There was a short note taped to the journal, which Marco read with a smile. He quickly flipped through the lengthy article, scanning it with the intention to pore over it later. Still reading, he turned to go leave it in his room, nearly running into Ace.

“Watch it! What’s got you so focused?” Ace tried to read over Marco’s shoulder but Marco held the magazine high up in the air. With Marco being over a foot and a half taller than Ace, it was an effective strategy.

“None of your business -” Marco was cut off as Thatch suddenly grabbed the journal from Marco's hand. Ace was shorter than Marco but Thatch wasn’t. Marco loved his siblings but sometimes he wished he didn’t live on the world’s fastest rumor mill.

Thatch was looking at the cover with his mouth hanging open. “That’s you Marco! Who did this drawing? It's incredible! What the - is this whole article about you? It’s like 35 pages long!” Thatch was flipping through the journal. Marco knew better than to reach for it back - he didn’t want it to get damaged in a scuffle.

“Yes, it’s about me. Give it back yoi. Now. Unless you want a wound that won’t heal quickly.” Marco eyes flashed as he spoke. He hadn’t intended to sound so menacing but the Phoenix wasn’t playing around. It had been moping for months, hoping to reunite the lovely little ornithologist who doted on it. Thatch handed over the journal quickly once he saw how serious Marco was.

“Wow, didn’t know it meant that much to you. Is this from that one bird island? With that bird girl?”

“Yes, that’s her yoi. She published an article about the Phoenix. And it looks like she’s speaking at the Grand Line Ornithological Society’s annual conference.” Marco was proud of you, he hadn’t been joking when he said you’d be a famous scientist. Flipping to the information about the conference, Marco read through the details of the upcoming event. He suddenly felt a yearning to fly.

Your POV

You hadn’t expected your article to be so well received that you’d be published and offered to speak at a conference in under a year. You’d sent a copy to Marco via Doug, like you said you would. You loved Doug and thought he was the sweetest news coo you’d ever met. No one seemed to agree with you but that was neither here nor there. Standing backstage at the conference center, you fiddled with your jacket anxiously. You weren’t comfortable with public speaking, you barely liked to talk to people in small groups. Part of you wished Marco was here to charm the scientists and answer everyone’s questions so you wouldn’t have to. But that was just a pipe dream, you knew you had to do this alone.

Writing the article and finalizing the drawings had you thinking a lot about Marco and the time you’d spent together. Even though you now knew he was the Phoenix, you still had a lot of love in your heart for the bird. And you could admit that you’d had fun with Marco when you’d been bird watching together. But none of that mattered, he was long gone and you’d never see him again. You took in a huge breath and held it in, releasing it slowly. Your neck was aching from all the accumulated stress, even though you were also a little excited. You were the next speaker to present and your notecards for your speech were damp from your sweaty palms. You could do this, you’d spent so long preparing. You were the most nervous for the question and answer portion of the presentation, since that wasn’t something you could prepare in advance.

You heard your name being called and you walked out onto the stage to the restrained applause of the crowd. All of a sudden, the crowd started clapping louder, with some members even standing to clap and cheer. You were confused - you hadn’t spoken yet. You saw flickering blue flames in your peripheral vision.

“Thought I would join you yoi.” You looked up to see Marco standing next to you, resplendent in his half transformed form.

“I..I didn’t know you were coming,” you said while avoiding the microphone den den. Marco fully transformed into his human form, bringing the attention of the crowd off of himself.

“Surprise yoi. Now, let’s hear your wonderful speech.” Marco was collected and peaceful, which helped you calm your own nerves. You began by introducing yourself and Marco, though he needed no introduction. The audience was completely silent during your talk, held in rapt attention as you spoke about Marco and his Zoan form. At the end, Marco gave a demonstration of his complete transformation to the delight of the crowd. Surprisingly, the audience members had few questions that were directly for Marco. Instead, they focused more on your research and theories about legendary birds. Thanking everyone for their time, you hurried off the stage with Marco following you. You were elated, this may have been the beginning of your professional career. You gave Marco a quick hug around his middle.

“Thank you Marco. I'm glad you came. A heads up would have been nice though.”

“I can’t announce where I’ll be yoi. I’m a wanted man,” Marco teased gently. You supposed that was true, though this conference didn't have any World Government officials. It was all scientists whose area of expertise was of no interest to the WG.

“Well, I appreciate it anyway.” You felt awkward, you didn’t know what to do now. You were thankful for his help but weren’t sure how you felt or what he wanted to do now.

Marco leaned down to you and whispered into your ear, causing you to shiver. “I have one question for you, since you asked me so many. Would you like to go flying?” You felt like you’d found the One Piece. Flying had been your dream since you were a child, that was what had sparked your interest in birds. Maybe...you could relent and give Marco a little bit more of your time. You could take things as they came and enjoy the ride. After all, you were an ornithologist. It was your scientific duty as a researcher to spend time with this interesting, infuriating, attractive, funny, smart pirate. And you took your professional responsibilities seriously. Very seriously.

#bird watching with a bird #marco the phoenix #marco op #reader x marco #marco x you #marco x reader #x reader #reader insert

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