#I’m well aware I write too many songs about you

[finn-ickymentalstability]

I am so sad this doesn’t already exist (at least that I can find) but I need a Larry Stylinson edit to Fourth of July by Fall Out Boy. I know it’s two seperate sides of the internet but I’m really hoping there’s someone else who has interest in both of these things and has the ability to make edits because I think I would sob seeing this.

“Oh why do you get so emotional over Fourth of July by fall out boy? Just say that you’ve never had a weird gay situationship and move on!”

Tumblr please I am begging you have someone find this that is able and willing to deliver!

[larry-hiatus]

You said you cared and you missed me too

[cloveroctobers]

CUT TIES — Terry Richmond [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: There’s enough Terry to go around right? This is inspired by two things…OFC a song + taking another chance at writing something influenced by Love is Blind. Who saw that wasteful reunion?! Anyways that is what this is so get ready for angst.

WARNINGS: Reference to a intimate moment but a line at best?

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11:32pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I Need To Hear Your Voice…Can You Call Me?

Was the text message he sent you, which made you let out a long exhale.

11:43pm

TO: T. Richmond

I’m at work T [Deleted] Terry.

11:44pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I’m Aware. I’ll Feel Better When I Hear Your Voice…And I Know You’re Probably Saying That I’ve Got A lot Of Nerve To Say That To You Right Now…Yet This Will Always Be True, No Matter How Things Ended.

You were glad Terry can acknowledge that he did in fact have nerve requesting a call from you, when the both of you already had that final closure conversation weeks ago…however here he was back again, entering your life whenever he pleases.

Picking up your phone, after watching it ring for a while you debated about letting it go to voicemail honestly. You really didn’t need to hear many more angles about whatever situation Terry got fucked over in. Things seemed to be going well lately though, at least that’s what he tried to portray on social media…which was also new for him.

Always the type of man to be lowkey and out the way but after the exposure of being contestants on a certain love show, he stepped out just a little. It was never too much, Terry wasn’t the type of man to be in your face about his blessings but if things went south, then he had no problem stepping to you if common ground couldn’t be located.

“Hey,” He starts, his deep tone sounded as if he was ready to go to sleep, possibly lying down, whereas you were wired on your night shift, “Sorry for bothering you—

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but to let it slip through your lips, “Are you though?”

He hummed, “Nope, can’t say that I am, to be real with you.”

“Well, can’t ever say you failed at honesty.” You replied with a hint of sarcasm which made Terry chuckle humorlessly, “What’s up? What was so important that you needed to be on my hotline right now?”

It was Terry’s turn to roll his natural underlined eyes but he’s not trying to pick a fight or even think about you with someone else, “…the house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. The first person I wanted to talk to, to ease the loud silence…is you. I believe that’s how it’s always gon’ be.”

Not long after you called it quits, Terry closed on a house that he’s been eyeing long before he decided to go on the show. It was meant to be if they couldn’t get it sold. He of course talked to you about it once you were out of the pods, saying how some rooms needed Reno and asked your thoughts on if that could be your main home once married. Thankful that you already had your home that you owned at such a young age, You spoke about how much you already invested in your home and how you had no plans of selling just yet even if you two chose to get married.

Which isn’t something that he wanted you to do but questioned how this would work. He wasn’t down with sleeping in separate houses, although Terry knew it would take time to get everything right, the house he bought was livable and he wanted that with you.

Something that Terry always admired about you is, that you had your own mind and drive to do what you felt was best for you. He respected it, had to really learn how to when you said you two needed to put some distance between you after a final argument got too heated.

“…I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that.”

Terry listened to you sigh.

“I’m going to say something you won’t want to hear but I’m saying it anyway,” you start as you lightly flick your feathered pen back and forth at the desk, “You’re going to have to get comfortable being alone in that house, Terry. I know you’ve been used to being a lone wolf majority of the time…but you officially settled somewhere now and you’re building a life outside of the danger you once knew. Which I’m proud of by the way but you’re going to have to start finding comfort elsewhere or with yourself because I’m not going to provide that to you anymore.”

Terry was afraid that you were going to say this one day. Usually you both were good at having balance when your relationship was solid, giving each other the space needed and showing up when needed. Everything just took a turn once the chaos showed up again at Terry and his cousin, Mike’s business. This was the first time Terry ever lied to you and that came at multiple costs. It blew up in his face because leaving you in the dark and not communicating with his fiancée? led to being stalked and a home invasion that still haunted you.

Terry would always be sorry for that.

From bliss to passion to heat to closure to yearning. It was all stages of what this relationship was, for Terry it was the process of your love story whereas for you, it was part of your origin story.

“What if I say…I’m finding that’s not what I really want?” Terry speaks, “…That I don’t see much of a future without you in it? We talked through that hurdle, we wished each other the best after the reunion but what if that’s not enough for me? What if we’re each other’s best?“

This was another side you predicted would happen. One thing about you is, your mind was always turning just like the earth spinning on its axis. Which took another turn in your argument, speculating things that weren’t true once you found out that Terry lied about some new men targeting him. You predicted that once you both tried to move on and live without each other, the other would crack. It happened before, a month after the reunion when his aunt invited you to her forty-fifth birthday party. Your friends told you not to go and that night made you weak for Terry Richmond.

So weak you couldn’t feel your legs for days, Terry knew your body so well, had no problem burrying himself deep downstairs in his aunt’s basement, green hues trained only on you, while having your legs in the perfect V over his shoulders, and that man was a mountain.

A dangerous one.

Now it was your turn to fully stand on business and the year was coming to a close so you didn’t need Terry to find new ways in.

That was supposed to be understood but you both fumbled that at the party.

You had enough time to figure out what was best. Of course you experienced the what if’s yourself, been as loyal as they came but a structured life of constantly looking over your shoulder was just not it to you. To no longer feel safe with the man you thought you would grow old with. Now you had the world weighing in on what they’ve seen on their tv’s and online—you can handle challenges—you worked as a nurse on the oncology floor, however you have to be smart enough to realize when it was too much and that was enough to walk away.

“At a time we were,” you finally answered before reassuring, “Everything you’re feeling is valid. I hear you. I’ve been there and got through that. You will too.”

Terry’s silence was as potent on the phone as what he probably felt like the inside of his home was. The scratching of the branch that was too close to his bedroom window was similar to the clawing you were doing to his heart. He didn’t want to lose you for good, call him selfish but he didn’t want to just forget the unique connection you built.

Although he felt disrespected with the way you spoke (yelled) to (at) him during your breaking point, he was willing to come back and work through it but ultimately it felt like there was no trust there anymore. Terry did feel like you were looking for a way out because you two were “too” good together, unfortunately this was too big of a situation to come back from.

The stubborn one out of the two, Terry can sense that you already had your mind made up. Two tough conversations were had, one behind the scenes and another for streamers to dissect and formulate their own opinions on, should have been enough but Terry always kept his cards close. You were his most precious one, yet you were telling him how to store it away back into the deck for good.

“Is this really what you want? To fully walk away?”

A hint of annoyance hits you and could be felt as you start, “We went over this—

“So us going two rounds that day meant nothing?”

Sure it did.

“Terry that was goodbye, you had to have known that. The last hurrah. So let me make it clear this time without raising my voice because I know you hate that—and I’ve been working on it—I’m cutting ties.”

Half expecting the line to go dead, you still find yourself holding your breath as the quiet goes deadly silent. Until you hear shuffling on the other end, Terry’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, feeling a stress headache arrive right on both sides of his temples which then radiate to the back of his neck.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way…but I love you. I need you to know that.”

That was obvious but again, sometimes love isn’t enough.

“Don’t do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to find other angles to make this work. We tried after the big argument—that spark isn’t the same and would never be the same.”

Terry huffs, “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

Grasping at straws, was not necessarily in Terry’s nature. He also knew that statement was just not true. Both of you put your hearts on the line and this was something the both of you would have never taken so lightly.

“…don’t let your loneliness overshadow what can’t be managed. We been made our decision but this is me finally enforcing a boundary.” You inhale air through your teeth before continuing, “You are headstrong, very structured and lived a life that I know nothing about if it comes knocking at our door again. What happens if we brought kids into that? It’s not that I don’t believe you couldn’t keep us safe, it’s the fact that our lives would always be at risk even if it’s not something you intentionally brought to the table.”

“We take risks every time we step out the door. That’s what life is,” Terry tried to reason, “I tried to leave the life I lived prior behind me, which is why I like to keep to myself and not open up. You changed that. I know we’ve been over this countless of times…I just don’t know if I’m ready to completely cut the rope. To never have you around is…a scary thought.”

In a minute, it wouldn’t just be a thought.

“It’ll be as if before we met. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means but I’ve accepted the art of letting go. Ending access to each other for real this time, does not automatically mean we never loved each other or there isn’t any more love there. If we fell back into each other, it would be a repeat of all the pieces we wouldn’t want to live with. It’ll be hard to fake and deal with.”

“Deal with?” Terry echoed in a tone that oozed frustration, “I’d be willing to be a team.”

“Then why wasn’t that taken into consideration when those men shot up your business? Or me being stalked by one of those men at work? Then being followed home.” You felt your blood pressure rising at what you thought you forgave—but everything is a process, “Or when Summer and I went out to lunch, just to find out that she knew about the drive by before I did? Or how I almost got ran over on purpose in the parking garage at work? That didn’t feel like team work. I was in the dark when we needed to continue to be a piece of each other’s light from the damn sun rays. Being the last to know often, did not make me feel like a priority. I feel like that part of you, you wanted to shield me from all the time…so now I’m going to be a shield on my terms.”

Terry Richmond never wanted to be responsible for changing the trajectory of someone’s entire life in a negative way. Although you said the love shared wouldn’t just vanish, it did feel like you thought about it and had time to sit on it.

He could make this easy and give you what you wanted, should have and it was once something he actually agreed to. However people change their minds all the time and he never saw himself falling out of love with you.

It wasn’t about being trained, it was about being in love.

He clears his throat, “I had no intentions on making this conversation out to be difficult…I knew I’d get push back, it’s one of the things I love about you,” Terry says, “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, that your voice is actually what makes me feel safe and probably always will. And that I hope I’d get the chance to love you more in every lifetime. That was part of what I wrote to you in our vows by the way and I still stand by those words. If I had more time, those words would be actions. I’d make up for it, if you just let me.”

Him saying that over the phone, did make you feel a way. It made the back of your eyes burn but the shield was already in the works of being fully up. You didn’t need to hear this, you never doubted Terry’s love for you but it was over, you had the scissors slowly running along what kept you connected. Terry didn’t get the choice to go back on the agreement, yes people change their minds all the time but there was no time to compromise.

“There’s no use in crying over spilled milk, Terry.” Is all you can say, leaving each other to listen to each other’s breathing before the man is finally hit with the call ending.

He’s left holding on tightly to his phone, taking in the sound of autumn’s whipping air outside of his home. Tossing the phone behind him on the bed, Terry gets to his feet, determination shining his in his eyes while he begins to put his mind elsewhere opposed to holding onto you.

As you sat at the front desk, you snapped out of the dissociation that wanted to creep in, to place your phone on charge. Then grabbed onto some scissors returning back to the craft project you were working on to help decorate this level of the hospital for the holidays.

Snip!

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More autumn anthology prompts here.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + nine

authors note: i know i've said this before, but this one might be my favorite. there are a few subtle hints spread throughout as well.....

i also listened to the song i named the story after while writing most of this chapter, so maybe recommended listening?

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

cw/tw: fluff, angst, language, inebriation, character being triggered, references to past csa, and suggestive themes

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

masterlist

words: 12k (i can't be stopped, clearly)

And I see a girl Who is learning to trust

---Leann Rimes

In many ways, Roman is a simple man. The kind that believes obvious gestures, actions, or even lack of inaction should speak for itself. That there are some things that are just so clear as day, it doesn’t make sense for him to have to explain himself. 

For him to have to repeat himself. 

Well, that’s gone out the window as of recent months, because he’s constantly found himself having to do just that. And his day is starting off no different with a surprising and unwanted guest showing up at his office demanding to speak to him.

Bayley stands across his desk with her arms crossed and an almost glare on her face. “I’ve been texting you.”

The fact that she even has his number is an issue in and of itself, but he’ll tackle that another day. “I’m aware.”

The avoiding of said texts is that obvious thing that she seemingly doesn’t understand the why behind. 

Bayley nods, very visibly keeping in a comment she’s at least smart enough to not make to the head of the Bloodline. Friend of his wife, or not. “Well, I would like to talk to you.”

Roman rolls his eyes, moving up from his desk to his filing cabinet to swap out expense reports he was trying to review before her rude, unwanted interruption. “I bet you would.”

“Seriously?” Ignoring her once again is the plan, Roman hoping that’s all it takes so that he doesn’t have to lose his temper before he even has his first meeting of the day. “It’s about Solana.”

And that is what finally catches Roman’s attention. He’s quick to turn around, expression suddenly hardened. “Talk.” She has his full attention. “Now.” 

Bayley takes note of how easily it is to gather Roman’s attention with the simple mention of Solana. It’s surprising to say the least and telling as hell to say the most, but she keeps this little observation to herself. 

“We’re having a Cinco De Mayo celebration at my family’s restaurant tomorrow night.”

“What does that have to do with Solana?”

Roman watches her hesitate for a second. “I want to invite her.”

For a split second, Bayley thinks she may have hit a stroke of luck when Roman doesn’t immediately shoot down her request. He seems to actually be thinking about it. And then he asks the question she knew would be the nail in the coffin. “Will Escobar be there?”

She’d like to just say no, as it’s highly unlikely he will attend, Bayley unsure if her cousin is even in the country. But, lying to the man before her has never turned out well for anyone, so she answers as honestly as she can. “I don’t know. You know he pops up at random times—”

Roman doesn’t even need to hear the rest. “My answer is no.”

She can’t be too surprised. Bayley wisely anticipated getting Roman to budge would be damn near impossible, if not entirely impossible.

“Roman—”

“Why the fuck would I allow her to be anywhere around that son of a bitch?”

To be fair, Roman’s relationship with Santos Escobar is tamer than most. They’re not allies, certainly not friends, and he doesn’t hate the man. It irritates him a bit how Escobar is a stubborn bastard and refuses to pledge loyalty and allegiance to the Bloodline, but that anger is eased by the fact that Escobar gives an even bigger middle finger to the Nightmare Factory.

His loyalty is to himself and the Legado Del Fantasma. That makes him a wildcard and potentially dangerous.

Roman won’t have Solana anywhere where danger could be present.

“You know as well as I do that while both you and my cousin have this weird ass Qué en es más macho thing going on, there’s all but a ceasefire. You've never attacked one of his men the same way he’s never attacked anyone in the Bloodline. That’s not going to change overnight just because your wife is present at a chorcha.”

Roman isn’t too full of himself to admit when someone has made a valid point, but as this involves Solana, the standards are a bit different. He won’t give Bayley that much. “Why should I even take the chance? You want to do something with Solana, take her somewhere else that’s on Bloodline or neutral territory.”

“My family’s restaurant is on neutral territory.” Bayley is happy to have another point of his she can counter. “And contrary to what the average, ignorant American thinks, Cinco De Mayo is an important part of our culture and our heritage, Solana’s heritage. I think she would really enjoy herself, that it would….that it would help her feel close to her mom.”

Roman is excellent in the way he remains absolutely unreadable even at Bayley’s point that has him seriously reconsidering his prior answer.

He has no doubt that would help her feel connected with her mom, being around reminders and in a space that’s so representative of half of who she is, who her mother was. He can’t see her not enjoying herself, which is something that doesn’t seem to happen a lot in her life thus far.

Just as he continues to mull over the options, Bayley adds on another defense. “I get where you’re coming from with the safety angle, but I’ll be there and Naomi will be there. Between the two of us, no one will touch her.”

Roman easily reads between the lines and identifies her unspoken request. “You don’t want Solo there.”

On one hand, he can understand it. Bayley not wanting his Enforcer there. Solo’s presence could be seen as him potentially scoping versus the real reason of serving as Solana’s personal guard.

Bayley doesn’t seem to be backing down, reminding with all the confidence in the world of her capabilities. “Like I said, Naomi and I got this.”

Roman will give her that. Bayley and Naomi could fight on his team any day. They’re just as brutal as the men, if not more when pushed. He knows they’d be able to keep Solana safe if need be. It’s that realization as well as the concern of depriving her of something that could make her happy that brings him to a revised answer.

“Fine, she can go.” Roman is quick to add on as an ominous warning, borderline threat, “but if anything fucking happens to her while she’s with you—”

“It won’t,” Bayley vows. “She’s our friend, and she’s family to Naomi. We look out for each other.”

Roman believes that. Believes that Bayley has seemingly pledged a loyalty to Solana that matches that of Naomi, and while he’d never fucking tell her this, he’s grateful she has someone like Bayley to talk to.

At his fill of socialization with people he doesn’t like, Roman is quick with the dismissal. “If you don’t have anything else to discuss with me about Solana, you can get the hell out of my office.”

Bayley is actually surprised she made it this long without being kicked out, so it’s under her breath she mutters, “a true gentleman.” She’s halfway to his door when manners get the best of her. “Hey, Roman.”

He’s back at his desk, gaze as irritated as when she first stepped in. “What?”

With a nod of respect and appreciation, she simply says, “thank you.” Whatever his response, or lack thereof, is after that is unknown because Bayley is out the door and on her way to invite Solana to what is sure to be a night of fun.

________

“Man, I tell you every dish Solana makes seems to get better and better.” Jimmy is rubbing his stomach as he places the now cleaned plate on the coffee table. “Where she been at all our lives?”

Once upon a time, Roman had a nice, quiet house that was his and his alone. Now though, it’s shared with a wife who really isn’t an issue, two obnoxious cousins who need to start paying rent at this point, and a dog who’s currently at the sliding door leading to the backyard having a one-sided bark off with a squirrel.

“Why are ya’ll always fucking over here?” Roman’s question is said with all the irritation manifesting in his muscular body. At the same time, he stands up from the sofa to retrieve the puppy he doesn’t feel like yelling at to shut up. 

She might piss herself in fear or something.

“Come on,” he grunts, leaning over and taking up Dulce who is almost instantly quiet. “Making all that damn noise for nothing.”

Roman places Dulce in her bed in the living room and returns to his previous seat on the sofa when she hops up and walks her ass right over to lean up on the sofa to stare at him with her unspoken request.

Jimmy is the first to notice this. “I think lil Nacho Libre likes you, Uce.”

Jey chimes in between bites of whatever Solana’s latest dish is that she’s made for them. “She know English yet or Soso still got her only speaking Spanish?”

“Man, the dog can’t speak.”

“You know what I mean, motherfucker. Damn.”

Roman ignores the two imbeciles currently freeloading in his house and relents to just letting Dulce on the sofa. He’s not sure why she’s downstairs with them instead off on the second level where the girls are getting ready, but she’s already here now, so no sense in transporting her. 

Dulce seems satisfied with her placement right next to him. 

“I still can’t believe we weren’t invited.”

“I can get why they didn’t invite us, but they could have at least given Nicki an invite.”

Jimmy is quick with the obvious answer. “You know Nicki don’t fuck with Naomi like that, or Bayley, and definitely not Soso.”

“Cause she’s fucking psychotic.” Roman has zero issues with his cousin’s wife having little to no interest in getting to know Solana. It’s for the better. As he said, the bitch is psychotic.

“Once again, Big Dog, you ain’t gon keep disrespecting my wife like that.”

Roman is as unfazed by Jey’s threat as Dulce is. 

“I gotta agree with Uce on that one. Nicki ass crazy as hell. One minute she love you, the next minute she pulling a Left Eye and burning your shit.” That emits a chuckle from him. His cousin's sneaker collection being burned in the backyard that one year was pretty funny. 

“Look, that was during a rough patch. That’s all.”

“Damn bruh, ya’ll must got a whole goddamn quilt then, cause your relationship been nothing but rough patches since we was in high school.”

“So what, you and Naomi never have no issues, huh?” Jey lives up to his hotheaded reputation, jumping into defensive mode. “Ya’ll just got the perfect marriage, right?”

“Of course we got issues, man, but never to the point where she turned into a lil arsonist!”

Completely disinterested in hearing dumb and dumber argue, Roman grabs his phone and shoots out a text.

Roman: You almost ready?

Solana’s reply comes in less than five minutes later.

Solana: Just about…..is Dulce by you?

Roman: Yeah. Sleeping….as always.

Solana: Lol….sorry about that, I meant to grab her before we got started.

Roman: It’s fine.

Roman: I need to talk to you before you leave.

He’s not surprised by the longer time it takes for her to reply. He can imagine she’s reading too much into his text.

Solana: Okay....I can come now?

Solana: I just have to put my shoes on….

Roman: I’ll come to you.

Roman knows better than to ask the bumbling idiots to watch Dulce. Their attention span when they get this heated is almost non-existent, so he opts to just take her upstairs with him, figuring he can deposit her in her bed in Solana’s room and that’ll be it for the night. 

One down.

Two more to get rid of.

Roman is standing outside of Solana’s door ready to knock when it’s ripped open, and he’s met with an instantly smiling Naomi. 

She’s smiling at the damn dog, of course.

“There you are, Dulce.” Roman has no issue whatsoever with letting her take the puppy, talking to it in that weird ass baby voice everyone seems to use around Dulce. He doesn’t get it, but it’s not something he desires to try to get anyway. Naomi calls out over her shoulder, “I’m gonna take her out to pee.”

Bayley shouts from inside the room, “I’ll come with you.”

Roman also has zero issues with that as well. He wants to be alone with Solana before she heads out.

Naomi is heading to the steps when Bayley walks past him, throwing out a rushed, “tell her she looks nice.”

That’s a given, but he gives her a nod, easily stepping in and closing the door behind him. He looks around the room, eyes settling on the connected bathroom where the door is suddenly swung open.

“Guys, are you sure I should wear—” Solana stops when she sees that Bayley and Naomi are no longer present, just him. “Oh, sorry, I thought—never mind.”

Roman would call her out on her apologies, both in the text and just now, but his attention is on something entirely different. 

Solana is fucking stunning.

Her dress is orange, thin sleeved and hugs her in a way that makes his jaw clench and dick stiffen. It’s more low cut in the front than he knows she’s probably comfortable with, but if anything, it accentuates just how fucking nice her chest is. There’s a slight split on the side of said dress that shows off her thighs, thick and soft to the touch, he’d imagine. She also has her hair down, something he hasn’t seen in some time, makeup that covers the scar, and lips painted in a teasing red. 

Roman has to catch himself because for a brief second, he’s tempted to completely change his mind. She looks too good to leave the house, especially without him present because there’s not a single doubt in his mind that she’ll turn heads.

She always does. 

Finally, he’s able to get words to leave his mouth that aren’t as filthy as the thoughts he’s trying to keep locked in the back of his mind. “Jesus, you look amazing.”

Roman has noticed an increasingly difficult time in restraining himself around Solana, not in the sense where he’d completely ignore her trauma and try to touch her in a way that would trigger her. Never that. More so in the way he fantasizes about her in that way, dreams of having her in that way, solely because of his growing physical attraction.

Granted, it’s always been there. 

Anyone could see her beauty even in how she would dress down and try to hide her figure, but now that Naomi and Bayley have been encouraging her to be less conservative in her appearance, it’s increased that difficulty exponentially. 

“Thank you.” The makeup on Solana’s cheeks helps to mask her growing blush at Roman’s unabashed compliment. She suddenly looks down, nervously running her hand down the dress. “Is it….is it too much?” 

Not at all. He might not want anyone else looking at her, but Roman could see her dress like this everyday and never grow tired. Still, his approval isn’t needed nor should she ever look for it. “Do you think it is?”

“I always think it’s too much.” It’s an honest answer, one that’s followed up with a caveat he’s surprised but pleased to hear. “But….but, I do like it.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Solana’s smile does something to him. She looks even more beautiful when she’s smiling. “Look….” Roman steps closer to her, trying to ignore her perfume, sweet and soft, a dangerous combination that matches her perfectly. “You need anything tonight, you call or text me, alright?” 

She nods and asks. “What about Solo? Isn’t—isn’t that his job?”

It’s not a conscious in as much it is a unconscious thing when he steps even closer to her, moving his hand to the small of her back. Roman gently tugs her toward him, and to his surprise, she doesn’t tense under his touch. “You’re my wife, Solana. My job is always to protect you. He just guards you when I can’t.”

She looks like she’s trying to memorize this piece of information, storing it for future use as necessary knowledge. “Do—do you want to come with us?” Solana’s hand resting on his chest is as surprising as her question. “I could talk to Bayley.”

Roman has never been a social person. To say he hates most people isn’t necessarily an exaggeration. So, the thought of being around a bunch of people he doesn’t know or like outside of Solana and maybe Bayley—she’s not entirely awful—is not appealing as well. That doesn’t stop him, however, from considering the question at hand.

He’s tempted to ask her if she wants him to come, because Roman can find it in himself to withstand socialization for a couple hours. 

He’ll do it for her. 

But, there’s another part of him, a larger part of him that thinks she needs to do this on her own. That she needs to establish a life and something for herself that doesn’t include him. It’ll be good for her.

“No.” Is his final answer, delivered much gentler than if she was literally anyone else. Roman reaches and plays with a piece of her hair. “Not my scene. Too many people.” Not to mention that his presence would draw too much attention, potentially not good attention. He won’t do that to her. Won’t’ risk ruining her night. “Go. Have a good time.” Again, for good measure, he reminds, “but I mean it. Something is wrong. You call me.”

She nods, and he readies to remind her of his need for words when she answers, “okay.” She then adds on, “I already gave Dulce dinner, so she should mostly sleep, but if you could take her outside every so often….”

“I got it.” He’d much rather sacrifice the couple minutes it takes to bring her outside than risk her shitting or pissing somewhere in his house. Granted, he has to give credit where credit is due. She’s doing great with her potty training. Solana takes great care of her, but that’s not surprising. It’s obvious how much she loves the puppy. “You should be back by midnight, though.”

It’s more a strong suggestion than a demand. Solana is a grown woman. He’s not going to dictate what she does and doesn’t do. She’s had enough of that in her life. He had to give his approval for her to go with Bayley because of safety issues, but this, he wants to leave up to her as long as she understands the later she’s out, the riskier things can get.

After a certain time, only bad or not so great things can happen.

“Of course.” She seems to understand this clearly, but he’d also bet that’s her preference to be back earlier than later. Solana grabs her purse and walks towards the door, having to pass him in the process. Roman catches her, arm around her waist. 

She looks up, curious, and he makes note of how she again doesn’t tense under his touch. That’s happening less and less, it seems. 

He likes that. 

“Text me when you get there.”

She smiles, and Roman suddenly feels a layer of his irritation with his cousins melt away. “I will.” Solana gives him one more glance before walking out the room. 

Roman scratches his beard, a part of him wondering if he made the right decision to let her go alone. Granted, he knows he would have never even initially agreed if he didn’t trust Bayley and Naomi’s abilities. 

They’d defend Solana as ruthlessly and violently as any of his best men.

That helps to chip away some of his second guessing along with the fact that this is something she clearly wants, and he wants to give her that. Give her anything he can that makes her happy. 

She deserves that much.  

Granted, that temporary peace is short-lived with the shout from one of his cousins who are apparently still present. 

“Ayo, Big Dog, did you change the WiFi password again!”

________

Roman needs a new house.

Maybe have Solana let him know what she likes as far as interior designing goes and have something built with an impenetrable wall around it.

That seems to be the only thing that will keep his annoying ass twin cousins from being at his place so much.

Roman just knew that when the ladies left, they’d leave too. But no, that’s too good to be true, because they’ve been gone almost an hour, and their asses are still here.

Even Dulce is sleeping peacefully like the unemployed bum that she is in her bed kept in the living room. 

And as always with them, they’ve been talking damn near the whole hour. One would think Roman straight up ignoring them as he works on his laptop would be a clear sign they need to go the hell home, but that would be too much like right.

He either needs an Excedrin or for his cousins to leave, the latter being preferred most. It’s especially needed when they seem to be watching whatever dumb ass Tok or Reel video over and over again. 

“Wait. I know that song,” Jey announces, face scrunched up as he tries to recall the name. All Roman knows is that it’s in Spanish and repetitive as hell on top of being played on repeat. Annoying as hell too. “That lil freak from Miami I used to mess with used to have this shit playing at her crib all the time.”

Jimmy sucks his teeth, asking. “What happened to her?”

“Man, she moved.” Jey shrugs. “She went to go be a freak in Cali.” 

Finally, Roman snaps. “Would ya’ll use some damn headphones or something?”

Jimmy is the first to speak. “You might want to watch this, Uce.”

“I don’t care.”

Jey slaps Jimmy on the arm, knowing how to get his cousin’s attention. “Yeah, why would he want to see a video of Solana?”

At that, Roman lifts his gaze.

Jimmy smirks knowingly. “Naomi sent some videos. Check your phone.”

That would explain it. Why Roman was out of the loop. It wasn’t from Solana. 

He’d selected a specific text and ringtone notification for her, so he wouldn’t be unnecessarily checking his phone. Hence why he hasn’t checked it since she text that they’d made it to the restaurant.

Opening up the thread that has himself, Naomi, and the twins, he sees the set of messages and videos.

Naomi: Having a blast! Solana especially. I kinda feel like the odd one out cause clearly I don’t know none of these dances 😩 I kinda got the Bachata one, but Merengue and Punta are killing me.

Naomi: Bay and Solana keep trying to teach me, but it’s not going well lmao

Roman watches them all. Every video shows Solana smiling and laughing as she dances with Bayley and Naomi. One of the videos shows her and Bayley trying to instruct Naomi who seems to be failing miserably at learning what he’d guess are traditional Hispanic dances. There’s even a clip of her trying to help a little girl learn whatever dance they’re doing, and she looks just as patient as he’s seen her with the kids she reads to at the library.

She looks fucking gorgeous and happy.

He likes that for her. After everything she’s been through, she deserves all of the happiness.

But, it’s in watching the last video with the song that he kept hearing on loop from his cousin’s phone that he understands why they have it on repeat.

It’s a different kind of dance Bayley and Solana do together along with other women he doesn’t know or give two fucks about. What he gives a fuck about and focuses in entirely on is the way Solana’s hips and ass move, rhythmically, teasingly, drawing out an uncomfortable tightening in his pants.

Fuck. 

Roman does his best to push his erotic thoughts away, still trying to figure out how to balance his sexual desire for Solana with the knowledge of her sexual trauma. It almost feels wrong, to feel and want her in that way when he knows how traumatizing that subject is for her. It doesn’t stop the desire though.

“Damn, I knew it had to move, just not like that.” 

“Like water.”

It’s probably a combination of his pent up usual, general and sexual frustration, but the dangerously slow way Roman lifts his head and equally slow way he sets his murderous gaze on his cousins is all they need to see to know they’ve gone too far.

And they know it.

Jimmy is instantly on damage control. “I meant—Bayley—you know, cause she—she’s also thick.”

Jey coughs awkwardly, hitting Jimmy on the arm. “I think, uh, we should—we should head out.” And Roman is just as slowly rising from the sofa when the twins literally almost trip over their feet and make a mad dash for the door. 

It takes a couple minutes for him to calm down, and he too suddenly finds himself watching said video, casually commenting to Dulce, “about time they fucking left.”

Dulce barks in agreement. 

________

Solana laughs along with Bayley and Naomi as they plop down in their seats after an almost four minute song of full out merengue. All are reaching for their respective drinks as Bayley playfully nudges Solana. 

“Aren’t you glad you came?”

Just then, Juanita Escobar walks over, Bayley’s mother who carries the same dimple and friendly disposition. She places her hand on Solana’s back, reminding in Spanish, “you must come back and see us again!”

Solana smiles, agreeing, “I will.” She then looks over at Bayley. “If that’s okay?”

Bayley waves her off. “Are you kidding? With how soft and girly you are, you can come be my replacement any time” 

Juanita glares at her youngest, muttering to Solana, “maybe you can rub off on my Bay, hmm? Never wanted to do girl stuff. Always wanted to fight with the boys.”

Bayley chugs back some of her drink. “Hell yeah.”

Solana thinks she’d prefer the fighting too. Maybe then she could have defended herself better. Defended her mom even.

Juanita shakes her head, looking at Solana. “Yes, come again, child. You look so much like someone, but I can’t put my hand on it. I’m sure my husband would know. He knows everyone.”

That doesn't necessarily make Solana want to come back, meeting someone, a man specifically. However, if he’s anything like Bayley or Juanita, maybe…maybe it won’t be so bad.

And maybe…maybe she could ask Roman to come with her. That’d make her feel moderately to significantly better. Safer, even.

Juanita is soon pulled away from the table by a customer at the same moment Solana’s phone rings.

Roman: You good?

Solana: Yes. 

She bites down on her lip, contemplating if she should hit send on her message. It feels like a risky thing to say, but it’s also how she feels.

And he’s always telling her to be honest with him.

So she is. 

Solana: Kinda wish you would have came.

Her fingers nervously tap against the table as she wait for his reply that ends up coming almost immediately. 

Roman: That’s your world. Not mine.

Roman: Do you not feel safe?

Solana: No, not that. I guess…...Nvm.

Roman: Tell me.

Again, more hesitation, and she’s not entirely sure where this desire to be honest and almost vulnerable with him comes from, but she does her best not to push it away, almost welcoming the slight discomfort that comes with sending such a risky text.

Solana: Idk, I feel better when you’re around. 

He doesn’t reply after that.

Bayley and Naomi share a knowing expression, having watched Solana quietly for the past few minutes. Naomi ends up being the one to lead the conversation. “So how are things going with Roman?”

The question takes her off guard, Solana trying her best to think just how to handle said question.

Roman no longer confuses her. Not nearly as much as her feelings about him confuse her. 

She wasn’t lying. She does feel better when she’s around him. And it’s not even that she feels unsafe currently. It’s just that he makes her feel safe in general. That’s such a foreign concept. One she hasn’t experienced in such a long time. 

If ever.

Because the truth of the matter is that while Solana felt an indescribable amount of happiness with her mother, there was never really safety. Not with her father’s wrath always waiting around the corner.

So while this is new and unfamiliar, it’s also nice, and she finds herself enjoying his presence. She likes being around him beyond the safety aspect. The way he talks to and with her, like he genuinely enjoys their conversations. When he meets her for work and asks how her day was or finds her in the house to see how her day was, it makes her feel like he actually cares about what she has to say.

Like he actually cares about her.

It’s such a stark contrast of how she sees him interact with others. Always on edge, it seems. 

He’s never made her feel that way though. Maybe at the beginning, but that’s starting to feel less like anything he’s done and more like her own trauma.

Trauma….

That’s also been an interesting experience. For the past few weeks, she’s worked out of The Courage to Heal, reading every page as instructed. And it’s been….an emotional time, to say the least. Definitely tears. A lot of them. Mostly shed in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep or on the bathroom floor as she sits against the tub, reading and writing, Dulce right beside her, offering that unspoken emotional support.

It’s been therapeutic and challenging and awful having to confront her demons but also freeing in a strange sort of way. Especially the poems. The words of other victims who express so eloquently and hauntingly beautifully what she still cannot. 

One of the things she’s really latched onto and tries to remind herself of is that there are different kinds of touch. Because of the assault, her brain has naturally associated any kind of touch as dangerous, which isn’t always true. Especially in the past few months. 

So, there’s been a conscious and active effort to remind herself when Naomi and Bayley hug her or playfully bump her, that it’s safe. That she’s safe.

Especially….especially with Roman.

Especially with how touch between them has seemed to also increase over the past couple weeks. Or maybe less increase in levels and more in frequency. She’ll find his hand on the small of her back, or him taking her hand in his, and sometimes, if they’re close enough, Solana also finds herself reaching for him, for his hand, her hand on his chest.

It’s all so innocent in presentation but something much deeper for her. A level of comfort she’s developed with him that she never had in any prior relationship. 

She likes it.

She likes him.

“Solana.” 

Jumping at being pulled from her inner dialogue, Solana remembers the initial question being posed. 

She clears her throat, finally answering, “umm….good. It’s—it’s good.”

“He’s not being an ass to you, is he?” She asks, almost protectively. “I mean outside of the natural ass that he always is.”

Immediately, Solana is shaking her head, almost feeling a duty to defend him. “No. No. He–he would never. He’s….always nice to me.”

Bayley nearly spits out her drink. “Nice?” She coughs a bit, also shaking her head. “Are we still talking about Roman here? Roman Reigns? That man has never been nice a day in his life.”

Naomi shrugs. “I mean, she has a point. I don’t think I’ve seen him be cruel to her.”

Cruel….Solana also could never find it in her to use that word to describe Roman’s disposition towards her. Maybe others, but never her.

Bayley sits on Naomi’s point, suddenly sharing to the table, “you know what, now that you mention it, when I went to go ask him if I could invite you tonight, he was ready to bite my head off for bothering him. But, the minute I said it had something to do with you, he was all ears. Like an instant switch.”

Solana is also all ears, slightly intrigued. “Really?” Doubt and insecurity creeps in as she weakly suggests, “he was probably like that with Samantha too.”

At that, Bayley and Naomi laugh aloud, Naomi nearly in tears.

“Now that is funny. Solana, Roman don’t give a fuck about that girl. Not outside of sex.”

Solana must look unconvinced, so Bayley points out, “think about it. She’s been around for years, and it’s not her he took down the aisle, so…..” She then adds, “arranged marriage or not.”

The girls bringing up their points takes Solana back to her run-in with Samantha in the bathroom and Nia’s jaw-dropping information. 

An idea appears, and Solana is instantly torn on whether to pursue or pop it. Something tells her it’s a bad idea, that she should take his information to the grave, but there’s also that side that feels like she can trust Bayley and Naomi to keep it between the three of them.

Sitting forward, Solana decides to take a risk. “Can I—can I tell you guys something?” Nervously, she stipulates, “but it has to stay between us.”

They look expectedly worried. “Solana, if it has something to do with your safety—”

“No, no that.” Solana almost feels confident enough to say that she’d go to Roman if that was the case. She trusts that she could talk to him if it was something like that.

“Of course, then.”

“Solana, you can tell us anything.”

And for some reason, she knows this to be true. It’s why she battles against her trepidation to open up. “It’s—ummm. I….I found out that when….when Roman was…..having sex with Samantha, he….” There’s a pause caused by the discomfort of such a discussion, but Solana manages to push through. “He said my name.”

Both Bayley and Naomi wear shocked expressions, the former of the two whispering harshly, “holy shit, what?”

Bayley then asks, “wait, how do you know?”

“Nia told me.” Solana has zero desire to wholly revisit that night in the bathroom with Samantha, so she only provides the important part. “She said that Samantha told her friend, I guess. T something?”

“Tiffy.” Bayley rolls her eyes. “Makes sense. That girl can’t hold water.”

“I don’t get it then. He obviously was imagining it was you and not Samantha, so why go fuck her and not you?”

Naomi’s question makes all the sense, but Solana doesn’t really know how to tackle it. This conversation is already difficult enough for her. 

But her face must give it away, Bayley seemingly putting two and two together.

“You two haven’t slept together…..have you?” Solana simply shakes her head, unable to verbally confirm and slightly mortified that it’s reached this level of detail. 

Solana is certain they must have a million thoughts floating around their head, starting with the how and why. That part…..that part she doesn’t know if she is ready to discuss.

An ironic thing considering she’s just started the chapter in her workbook on sharing her story with trusted people. 

The irony.

But instead of invasive questions that heighten her anxiety, Naomi places a comforting hand on her arm. 

“Look, I’ve known Roman my whole life, and the guy has been a dick the entire time. He would never hurt a woman, I know that, but he’s also never given a fuck about any of them either. So for him to be the way he is with you when you two haven’t even had sex……there’s something there, Solana.”

“I agree,” Bayley cosigns, saying what Solana has struggled to admit even to herself. “I think he really does like you. In his own Roman sort of way.”

Solana can’t deny the fact that it’s getting increasingly difficult to push away that possibility, even if she still can’t understand the why.

Just what has she done to deserve him liking her? 

Maybe it’s not like. Maybe he just tolerates her better than he does others for some reason. Whatever it is, she can’t negate the fact that it must mean something if Naomi, who’s known him her whole life, believes that something is there.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Solana just needs to get away. Just for a couple minutes. This conversation took a turn she wasn’t expecting, and she needs to settle her emotions. 

Bayley seems cautious. “Want me to come with you?”

“No.” The rejection is paired with a kind smile. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

And before she can get any pushback, Solana makes her way through the dancing crowd and to the back restroom that she’s grateful to see is vacant. Closing and locking the bathroom door, she goes straight for the mirror.

Despite the unexpected amount of dancing and slight sweat, she still looks relatively the same. 

The same….

Same.

Even with the makeup and tight little dress, she’s still the same person. She’ll go home tonight, take off the makeup and remove the dress to find the same damaged, scarred girl who can never have something like what Jimmy and Naomi have.

Even if Roman does like her, it won’t last. 

She can’t please him. 

She could never make Roman happy, could never truly satisfy him, satisfy his needs.

She’s too broken for that.

It brings tears to her eyes.

Unable to withstand the sight of herself, Solana grabs a couple napkins to blow away her tears, tosses them out and heads out the bathroom. Instead of heading back to the table, Solana makes a beeline for the bar. 

She’s only had white wine, but white wine isn’t enough. She recognizes where her emotions are taking her, and it’s nowhere good. 

Solana refuses to ruin this night for Bayley and Naomi.

The bartender is a young girl, pretty, early to mid twenties. She asks in a friendly, deeply accented voice, “what can I get you?” 

Solana is naive to this, to the great array of alcoholic options that litter the counter before her, so she answers the best way she can. Thinking back to the few events she’d be forced to attend with her father and brother, the drinks she always heard people order before getting drunk.

“Vodka and Gin, p—please.”

________

Meanwhile, Bayley and Naomi sit at the table still partially stuck on this unexpected news. But also not entirely surprising. With how sittish Solana can be at times, they have a good, albeit depressing guess as to why sex hasn’t happened between them.

It does bring up a valid question though.

“Wasn’t the whole marriage for the purposes of giving Roman an heir? How is that—”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Naomi murmurs. “But, I think we both know it’s obvious Solana has some trauma. Touch is clearly hard for her.”

“I know.” Bayley frowns. “I guess I’m just surprised Roman of all people has been so….patient with her.”

“You and me too.” Naomi blows out a breath before again reiterating what she said to Solana. “He must really like her.”

“It’s just hard to tell with him. He’s so damn stoic, but….I think you’re right. I think she likes him too. She’s just…..scared.” Fear is also something Solana deeply struggles with, though Bayley and Naomi both can recognize the progress she’s making towards overcoming those fears.

With a gasp, Naomi grabs her phone, directing Bayley. “Get your phone.” 

Bay is confused but follows suit just as Naomi says, “I know who may know.” 

Less than a minute later, Bayley’s phone dings with a text notification from a new group she’s in that includes herself, Naomi, Jimmy, and Jey.

Naomi: Sooooo, Bay and I were just talking, and between the four of us, how do you think Roman feels about Solana?

Bayley: And please be honest.

Bayley quickly ensures. “We’re not going to tell them what Solana said, right?”

“Hell no. We could never betray her trust like that.” Bayley is relieved but also not surprised. 

Naomi values loyalty just as much as she does. 

Jey: Man, I think he really like ole’ girl. Bruh got her a dog, seems to drop whatever he doing when she needs something, and I don’t think I ever heard him say nothing bad about her.

Jimmy: He was definitely annoyed at first when Soso had her lil breakdown at the Warehouse, but that didn’t last long at all. 

Bayley: Plus Roman is always annoyed with something or someone.

Naomi: Except her 👀

Jey: Why ya’ll ask?

Naomi: We think Solana really likes him too but is scared to push on it because of her past and just don’t want to encourage her to give it a chance if he’s just gonna hurt her. Ya’ll know how Roman is.

Bayley: A certified ASSHOLE. And a hoe. 

Bayley: But, it seems like that’s not the case with her.

Jimmy: I would say he definitely likes her too. 

Jey: I mean they are married so….

Naomi: It was arranged. That doesn’t count. 

Bayley: Do we know if he’s still fucking around? Primarily with Samantha since she’s been his go-to the past couple years?

Jimmy: I don’t think so. Matter of fact, I guess she said some smart shit to Soso in the bathroom on NoC and Big Dog wasn’t having it.

Jey: He’s apparently planning to pay her a lil visit….with Nia.

Naomi: Oh my god, is he finally gonna let Nia kill her?

Jimmy: Naw, just fuck her up real good, I think.

Naomi: Damn.

Bayley: That’s wild for him to cut her off like that after all this time. Def sounds like he likes Solana to me too…..

Jey: Ya’ll really think he about to admit that shit though?

Naomi: No more than she is. He’s stubborn, and she’s so insecure.

Jimmy: Ya’ll thinking what I’m thinking? 👀

*Jimmy changed the group chat name to Operation RoSo*

Naomi: Bae, what is this damn title?

Jimmy: It’s our latest covert operation. We gotta get Roman and Soso to admit they like each other!

Jey: And just how the hell is we supposed to do that? Like Bay said, Uce is an ass sometimes.

Bayley: All the time unless you’re Solana….

Naomi: I mean, not to be vain, but if you look like Roman, you can kinda get away with being an ass. To some extent.

Bayley: You’re not wrong. He is gorgeous. 😮‍💨

Jimmy: He alright, I guess. His ears kinda big.

Naomi: Bae, I love you, but let’s not lie. Your cousin is an asshole, yes, but he’s also fine as hell.

Bayley: That’s not the only thing said to be big…..

Naomi: Girl….

Bayley: They can’t all be lying.

Jey: ANYWAYS!

Jey: What if they’re coming together at they own pace and we should just leave shit alone? 

Jimmy: 😐

Jimmy: That’s about the dumbest fucking thing I done heard all day. What next you gon say, huh? That they just magically gon fall in love on their own too? No! They clearly need our help!

Naomi: Maybe less help and more a shove in the right direction?

Bayley: A gentle push!

Naomi: Yes!

Jey: All I know is if shit backfires, I’m not taking the heat for none of ya’ll asses. Ya’ll gon have to deal with Big Dog.

Jimmy: Then we’ll just put Solana in front of us. He can’t hurt us then!

Jimmy: See…..I’m smart with this shit. That’s why Imma be the brains of this operation.

________

“What do you mean she’s drunk?”

Roman’s night suddenly went from uneventful and quiet, his preference, to unexpected and infuriating, all with a walk from upstairs to downstairs where he finds Solana awkwardly standing in the living room. Bayley and Naomi wait at the bottom of the steps with nervous expressions.

Good.

They should be scared shitless, because one glance at Solana, the gloss over her eyes, and he can tell she’s all but wasted. 

“You were supposed to be watching her.” Roman is fucking irritated. He knew it was a bad idea to leave these two in charge of Solana.

Bayley, however, seems unbothered by his anger. “She’s not a child, Roman. Were we supposed to stop her from drinking too? We had no idea she asked for something stronger.”

It’s an excuse, and Roman doesn’t do excuses. “What happened?”

Naomi answers this time around. “We don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” One. They’re lying, and Roman hates liars. Two. They’re lying, and Roman has literally killed people for less. Three. They’re lying, and he wants to know why. “You’ve both got less than a minute to give me the truth—”

“Look, we talked about some things, and we promised to keep it between the three of us, so I’m not telling you what exactly it was, but I can tell you she’s not in danger.” Bayley is smart. She must know that he’d literally torture the information out of her if it had anything to do with Solana’s safety. 

“It was just…some stuff about her past. I think it may have been too much, and she decided to get drunk to not think about it.” Naomi’s suggestion makes sense and pans out, but Roman can’t stop thinking about just what she shared with them. 

Was it the rape? But why? He remembers her terror in the locker room that day, the fear and pain in her eyes and voice as she pleaded with him to not make her talk about it. It doesn’t make sense why she would suddenly share it.

Even with how close she seems to them.

“Just leave.”

Roman will deal with them later. Right now, his priority is getting Solana settled.

They seem to know better than to push his patience, asking that he at least keep them updated on how she’s doing in the morning.

He neither agrees or disagrees. It’ll heavily depend on how fucked up Solana is. 

Once they’re gone, Roman walks into the living room to find her laid on the sofa, eyes glazed over from her drunkenness but that same beautiful smile on her just as beautiful face.

“Solana.” She’s so gone that it makes him wonder even more again just how upset she must have been. “I need to get you to bed.”

He needs sleep too, feeling the length and weight of the day starting to take a toll.

She’s protesting almost right away. “I’m not t–tired.”

“Maybe not, but you will be tomorrow.” Roman knows she’s in for one hell of a hangover.

“I don’t—I don’t want to sleep.” She’s almost pouting, brows caved together as she stumbles through more words. Solana suddenly stands up, and he naturally moves closer to her, noticing the almost sway she does onto the floor. “I just—have bad dreams and—and you’re just—just gonna leave once I sleep anyw—way.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks. Getting answers from a drunk person usually isn’t the best or smartest thing in the world, but something tells Roman that Solana is the type of drunk person who ends up spilling secrets. And he’s certain there’s a lot she’s probably still keeping in.

She then issues an unexpected accusation. “You—you’re—you’re gonna go be with Samantha—that’s who you want.”

Roman finds her question slightly ironic considering he’s been letting Samantha think she got away with whatever disrespectful shit she said to Solana on the Night of Champions. He’s letting her think she’s safe and waiting for the right moment to set her ass straight, Nia tagging along to deliver the physical message he can’t.

“Af–after all.” Solana continues, surprising him with her openness that’s most definitely fueled by her inebriation. “Why—why would you want me?” She points to herself, voice taking on a softer, vulnerable tone. “Why—why would anyone want me?”

He’s silent for a good minute, sitting on such a heavy question. “Is that really what you think?” It’s asked in a low voice, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s more him thinking aloud or if he genuinely wants to know if that is how she really views herself. 

She shakes her head, nodding in a way that further signifies how drunk she is. “It’s like you said, I’m mentally u–unstable.”

For a second, Roman’s confused, but he quickly thinks back to their wedding night, to his hurtful words to her. Words he’d give anything to take back now. 

With an almost frown, he acknowledges his fault. “I was wrong to say that to you, Solana. You are not that.” Truthfully, with all she’s been through, even if she was, he couldn’t fault her.

With a family like hers, she never had a fucking chance.

Solana seems almost confused by his apology, taking him back with the next thing that leaves her mouth. “Is it—is it true you—you said my name when you were with S—samantha?”

He definitely wasn’t expecting that, has no idea how she even knows that. Is that what Samantha told her in the bathroom? Why would she? It does nothing to make her look good. Regardless, drunk or not, Roman sticks with his word that he won’t lie to her.

“Yes.”

Even drunk, he can tell how shocked she is by his admission. Shaking her head, she says either to herself or him—he can’t really tell. “I—I don’t get it.” Before he can say anything else, she starts on this train of self-hatred. “She’s pretty and—and—skinny and—she’s not—broken like me.”

That does something to him, Roman moving closer to bring one hand to the small of her back and the other to her face. “You’re not broken, Solana.”

“Yes–yes, I am. You don’t—you don’t know what—what happened to me.” Her bottom lip trembles as she shakes her head, hands on his chest. “I can’t—I can’t do what—what she does—can’t—give you t–that.”

He shifts his hand to the back of her head, forcing her blurry gaze to stay on him. “Baby….” It tears him the fuck up hearing her acknowledge the lingering trauma he’s certain she’ll always carry to some extent, but even more to hear how lowly she really thinks of herself. “I don’t—”

“I can’t—I can’t because—” Her voice cracks, her eyes focused everywhere but him as she almost comes to this heartbreaking realization that her drunkenness briefly helped her escape these thoughts that have now returned. “—b–because they r–raped me, and now I don’t—I don’t know how—how to be with anyone.” She gasps and sniffles, shaking her head. “I should—should have f–fought h-harder—”

“Don’t you ever fucking say that, you hear me?” Roman’s voice somehow contains all the conviction yet gentleness he can muster. Hearing her even think that makes him feel something he can’t fully describe. It’s heavy as fuck though. “You were a child, Solana. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You were a kid.” He has to say it again, because that’s the hardest part in all of this, knowing how young she was. “You should have been protected, and you weren’t, and I’m going to make sure every son of a bitch involved in what happened to you pays for that shit. I promise you that. The same way that I promise with my life, I’ll never let anyone ever hurt you again.”

She’s clearly taken back by his words, by his vow. “I don’t—I don’t—understand w–why? Why—why would you do that?”

Roman isn’t sure he has an answer for that specifically, but he does have something else he can provide her, a small part of him knowing, hoping maybe, there’s very little from tonight she remembers come tomorrow morning. 

“Because someone needs to protect you.” Roman swallows, adding before he even realizes what he’s saying. “Because I don’t want Samantha.” He brushes his thumb over her cheek, intentionally wiping her tears. “I want you.”

And suddenly, it’s so much easier to say it aloud, to voice to her what he still doesn’t entirely understand, why he feels drawn to her in ways he doesn’t understand. There’s a connection almost, a connection of mutual loss that’s formed some sort of bridge Roman is unsure just when he started crossing 

She looks more stunned at his admission than anything else he’s ever said to her. Still, she seems to try to discredit him. “But—but she—”

“She’s not you.” His voice unintentionally softens. “No one’s like you.”

Selfishly, he hopes she doesn’t remember much or any of this conversation, less painful for her, more time for him to figure out what it is about this woman that he feels so deeply drawn to.

Again, she tries to downplay her worth. “I can’t—I can’t—give you what you need.”

And somehow he knows exactly what she means. What she’s referring to.

“I don’t need that from you.” Truth be told, he doesn’t want to need anything from her. Needing anything in general has never been his thing. He just knows that, for some reason, he wants her around.

He likes having her around him. 

She’s blinking again and places her hand against her head, sharing, “my h–head hurts.” It’s not an intentional deflection, he’s certain, but it’s appreciated.

This is a much deeper conversation than he anticipated having tonight.

“You need to get to bed. The sooner you can start sleeping this off, the better.” He eyes her skeptically, asking, “can you walk?”

He should have already known the answer, because the minute she tries to pull away from him to walk, she sways almost immediately, Roman going right back to holding her. “Come here.” He expects her to tense up as he moves to lift her up bridal style, but she doesn’t. She just continues to look confused, clearly overwhelmed with all of her emotions. 

Roman doesn’t say anything as he carries her up the stairs and doesn’t think twice about taking her to his room instead of hers. 

He needs to monitor her tonight, and that’s easier done with her in his room.

She looks around still confused but doesn’t say anything as Roman lowers her down on the edge of his bed. Naturally, he’s on one knee before her.

“I’m gonna take these off.” He refers to her heels which could largely be a contributing factor for her to inability to walk. She nods, and he quickly unstraps and tosses the heels to the side. “Do you want to change?”

She nods and then adds, “I don’t have—my clothes….”

Roman is at his dresser, pulling out a shirt that he reaches to her. “You can wear this for tonight.”

She accepts it from him, turning to walk to the bathroom, Roman relieved to see the removal of her heels helps her to at least make it without falling.

While she’s changing, he heads back downstairs to get Dulce.

He knows she’s used to sleeping with Solana and will probably throw a fit or spend the night crying if that doesn’t happen, so a small sacrifice is made as he also brings up Dulce’s bed from the living room and places it on the side of his bed.

One night of her sleeping in his room won’t kill him.

It’s then that Solana walks out the bathroom, changed out of her dress and her face free from the makeup. 

“I washed my face….hope that was o–okay.”

“It’s fine, Solana.” Roman is half expecting to have to instruct her to lay down, but she again stays with the theme of surprises tonight and walks over to the bed, pulling back the covers and climbing in. 

He’s again ready to explain that he’ll be in the guest room across the hall but will be available if she needs anything. He’ll still be checking in on her occasionally, regardless.

But, before he can explain as such, she asks in the softest, most vulnerable voice, “will you lay with me?”

It’s an extremely unexpected question with an easy answer.

Roman’s answer is to move into the bed with her, half expecting her to freak out in one way or another. This close proximity is so unlike her, a complete contrast to what she’s usually comfortable with.

However, what he doesn’t expect is the way Solana moves her body close against his, pressing herself into his side, arm over his stomach and head on his chest.

In a switching of roles, Roman is the one to initially tense. This is more physical contact than they’ve ever had, and there’s not a doubt in his mind that if not for the alcohol in her system, she’d have a fucking meltdown touching him this much.

But in her drunken, highly intoxicated state, that’s not an issue. She wants to be close to him, wants to be pressed up against him. 

She’s looking for comfort.

And truthfully, he wants it too. Roman likes the feel of her next to him, actually uses his other arm to tug her closer, noticing how she adjusts her head on his chest.

Her hand is planted against his chest, and he starts to tell her to rest, to encourage her to sleep this off. But, she once again beats him to it, asking yet another question. 

“Why—why are you doing this?”

To be fair, Roman only answers her truthfully because he’s betting on her being so close to the edge of sleep that the chances of her remembering this rare shred of vulnerability are slim to none.

“Because—because I know what it’s like to not have anyone.” There’s a sense of hesitation and discomfort as he verbalizes what he’s never once openly discussed with anyone. “Because I didn’t just lose my mom when I was ten. I lost my entire family. My parents. My aunt. My uncle. And all of my siblings. I—I was the only one who made it out alive that night, and I spent years not knowing why, why I was left alone.”

Roman doesn’t want sympathy, doesn’t want people feeling fucking sorry for him. He never has. But the way Solana lifts her head to look at him is a look of something else, something that likens understanding and compassion.

The latter of which is almost an unfamiliar concept. 

“I didn’t—I’m sorry.” She lays her head back against his chest, moving even closer. She then murmurs into him, almost reassuringly, “you don’t—you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Roman doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn’t.

He says nothing.

________

Waking up in Roman’s bed wearing only his shirt is the last thing Solana expects along with the fact that the minute her eyes open, she’s hit with instant throbbing of her head.

She winces, confused about so many things as she forces herself to sit up, mind immediately wandering to a single question.

Where is Roman?

Her question is easily answered when she spots the notebook on his nightstand. She reaches for it, squinted eyes reading over his words.

Solana,

I’m sorry I had to leave. I have a meeting with the Elders I, unfortunately, can’t miss. I’ll be back right after.

If not for that, I would have stayed with you.

You most likely won’t remember last night, but you got drunk. Very. You’re gonna wake up with a nasty hangover. Take the Aspirin. It’ll help. 

I gave Dulce her breakfast and took her outside. She should be fine. 

I also let your job know you’re not coming in today.

Rest.

Roman

There’s so much to process in such a straightforward letter. What did he mean by stay with her? Did—did they sleep in the same bed? 

For some reason, that’s not as anxiety inducing as she imagined it would be. She doesn’t know the why or how, but it doesn't bring that heavy weight on her chest.

The drunk part triggers brief memories of the night prior. Bayley and Naomi. The celebration. Dancing. Fun. Happiness.

A switch.

At some point in the night, her mood shifted into something else. Solana remembers asking for a drink, but she doesn’t remember much after that. Glimpses. An almost sympathetic look from Roman. His arms around her. Him holding her.

It makes for a confusing story she doesn’t really have the wherewithal to deal with. She instead reaches over and swallows the Aspirin. 

And she goes right back to sleep.

________

Roman finds himself completely bypassing his office, clearing his schedule, and moving his phone’s status to Do Not Disturb.

He’s not in the mood to deal with any of that shit today. At least not for a couple more hours. He needs to make sure Solana is situated first. 

Thinking about her resurfaces his earlier level of anger at how the meeting with the Elders ended.

“What of the girl?”

This was the part of the hour meeting that caught his attention the most. Everything else was trivial and, in his opinion, a waste of time. But, it’s when Elder Aleki brings up Solana that Roman’s focus is recentered.

“What about her?”

He’s not stupid. Far from it. Roman knows exactly where this is headed. It was partially expected. What he didn’t expect was the anger that’s already brewing at just how Solana was referred to as ‘the girl.’

Aleki is bold with his questioning, jumping straight to the point. “Is she still not pregnant yet? It’s been almost four months.”

Roman’s jaw clenches, and he finds himself squeezing the armrest of his chair as he does his best to keep his voice somewhat subdued. “I’m aware of how long it’s been.”

Another elder, Sione, decides to join in on this conversation that Roman is about to shut down in less than a minute. “Perhaps she should have another medical evaluation. By one of our doctors—”

“The hell she will.”

Rikishi shoots Roman a warning look, quietly, muttering an equally pleading, “language, Uce.”

Roman straight up ignores him. Rikishi still adheres to those outdated traditions that just because someone has more years on this earth than you that they automatically deserve respect. Fuck that. Roman gives respect when it’s earned, and Aleki and Sione have been on his shit list for years.

He’ll never forgive them for their behavior after the death of his family, their questioning of Roman’s birthright to the throne.

Aleki releases a heavy sigh, and Roman has to restrain himself from not bashing the old man’s head into the table. “All we’re saying is if she is incapable of producing a child to continue the Bloodline, then we have no use for her and should seek to find you a better—”

That’s when Roman has enough. To suggest Solana be examined again. which would no doubt be triggering as fuck for her, is one thing. But, it’s an entirely different thing for them to have the unmitigated gall to suggest he get rid of her.

Over his dead fucking body.

Roman shoots up from the chair. “My wife isn’t going anywhere nor is anyone at this fucking table going to make her do shit.”

Rikishi shoots more than just his subtle warning this time around. “Roman, please—”

Roman’s not trying to hear that shit from him, though. He’s not trying to hear shit from anyone. 

“Our marriage is nobody’s fucking business but our own. That includes when she gets pregnant. We’ll share it when we want to.”

Truthfully speaking, this isn’t something Roman has thought much about, an intentional thing. The fact that the marriage was originally and solely arranged so that she could give him an heir is irrelevant to him right now, regardless of what they think.

That’s not a priority. 

“You may be the Elders, but I sit at the head of the table.” The Bloodline has always been successful and profitable, but it’s no doubt exceeded any and all records and expectations since Roman became the head. That’s an indisputable fact. “Don’t fucking forget who made this table what it is today.”

The ending of the meeting is still playing in the back of his head like a bad song on repeat. If not for his semi level of respect and acknowledgement of their standing as Elders, he would have put a bullet in their heads the minute that disrespectful shit started leaving their mouths.

In no fucking universe is anyone taking Solana from him. He doesn’t give a flying fuck whatever the original reason was for their marriage. She’s his now, and nothing is changing that. 

Roman makes active efforts to calm himself before walking back into the house. After last night, the last thing she needs is to be unintentionally triggered. 

He finds her on the sofa, writing in her journal, Dulce right beside her sleeping peacefully without a care in the fucking world. Roman halfway expected her to be out back on the patio, a seemingly favorite spot of hers.

But the sunlight would no doubt exacerbate the remnants of her hangover he’s certain she’s still battling, so it makes sense she’s indoors. It’s when she looks up, noticing his presence that Roman also realizes she’s still only wearing his shirt. 

For some strange reason, he likes that. Likes seeing her in his clothes.

“Hey…”

“Hey.” Roman sits on the sofa opposite from her. He takes her in, watching her set her journal to the side and as he notices her hair is pulled up. “How you feeling?”

She shrugs, making a face that suggests some level of discomfort. “My head still kinda hurts, but I guess—that’s to be expected.” He starts to ask her if she’s drunk enough water, recognizing the importance of staying hydrated a night after heavy drinking, but she’s suddenly pleading with him almost. “Please don’t be upset with Bayley and Naomi. It’s not their fault.”

To be fair, he hadn’t thought about them until now. “They were supposed to watch you.”

“They did. I—I got back fine.” She seems almost worried for them, for their safety. He would never actually kill either woman. He’ll just probably never trust them to take Solana out again in life. But no murder would actually happen. Still, it’s the part where Solana says she got back fine that irks him. He does his best to mask that irritation though. 

“You weren’t fine last night, Solana.” She was far from it, more emotional than he’s seen her in some time, if ever. 

Her shoulders drop, almost in shame. “I don’t—I don’t remember much of it.”

He’s thankful for that. For the both of them. “You were upset.” It’s not a lie nor is it specific. It’s just the truth. 

She then asks with almost hesitant curiosity. “W–what did I say?”

Roman shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He doesn’t like being dismissive towards her, doesn’t like being dishonest, something he swore he wouldn’t do. But, she was an emotional wreck last night, and the last thing he wants is for her to go through all of those emotions yet again.

He doesn’t like seeing her upset.

But then she looks at him, studying him almost, a sad, almost tearful chuckle leaving her mouth. He watches as she brings her legs up to her chest and rests her chin against her knees. She asks, volume barely over a whisper, “I told you last night, didn’t I?” Roman realizes it’s less a question and more a heavy realization. “That—that I was raped. Didn’t I?”

It’s a bit of a lose–lose situation. Either he tells her no and risks her feeling bad for sharing something she didn’t have to or he confirms what she already knows and still feels not great.

They’re both shitty options, but he ultimately goes the route of honesty. “Yes.”

“It’s weird. I—” She looks away, eyes shutting for a minute before she unexpectedly explains, “I’ve been—I’ve been working out of this book for people who were…assaulted like me, and I’m–at the part where its recommended I tell at least one person because—because it’s not healthy to keep it to myself.” 

Roman knows exactly what book she’s talking about. It was the key that led to him figuring out just what happened to her. That still fucks with him. Still makes him fill with silent rage at her piece of shit family letting that happen to her. 

“You’re now the first person I’ve ever told.” Roman hates that even more.. Hates that someone like him is who she ended up breaking her silence with. He wishes it was either Bayley or Naomi. They’re much better at this sort of thing. The feelings thing. “I don’t—I don’t like talking about it.”

“You don’t have to.” He isn’t sure he’d be able to control his anger hearing details, hearing anything about it to be honest, not coming from her. His rage would be intractable. 

She nods, almost appreciatively. “That's why sex is—it’s hard for me.” He fully understands that, and a small part of him hates how he tried to initiate that with her on their wedding night. He figured her nerves were because of her naturally anxious personality. Never once did it cross his mind that it was because of something much darker. “And it’s not—it’s not like I don’t think about it sometimes, about being close to someone like that, I do.” This piece does surprise him, but he works hard not to think too much about it right now. He wants to be in this moment with her. “ I—I have. But, every time I try, I just—I get flashbacks, and I can’t.” She ends on an almost whisper, Roman’s stomach tightening as she quickly wipes at a tear. 

He doesn’t like seeing her cry. 

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Solana.” Not him or anyone else, for that matter. 

She doesn’t say anything for a good minute before asking, “what happens now?”

That’s a great fucking question, and he almost has the same towards a lot of things. He’s curious though what she’s specifically referring to. “What do you mean?”

Solana seems almost frightened as she asks, “are you—are you gonna send me back to my father?” 

Yeah, he could have never in a million years guessed that. “Why would you ever think I would do that?”

And he suddenly hates asking, hates seeing the way the emotion builds back up. “I’m not—not a virgin, and—” Her eyes close, her grip around her legs tightening. “You….you only married me because—”

“I don’t care about that.” This is his second time today having to face some level of this discussion, but this round is significantly gentler. Roman does his best to illustrate the conviction in his voice while also being mindful of her emotions. “What do you want, Solana?”

He has no idea what she’s going to say, but he does know for a fact he would never send her back to that hellhole. It would be like sending her to her own death. 

She seems to really think about his question, think about something he’s certain she’s never had a lot of. 

Options. 

Finally, after what feels like hours, she answers. “I want to stay here.” Roman’s unsure why he feels a small sense of relief at her answer, like anything other than that would have made him uncomfortable or upset. Solana wets her lips, continuing, “I like—I like living here.” And in an even smaller voice, she adds, “I like being with you.”

He doesn’t say anything, and neither does she. Roman is certain it’s because they’re both trying to process and register what this may mean, what this new piece of information means for them moving forward. 

Roman sits forward and motions with his index and middle finger. “Come here.”

He sees it instantly. The initial hesitation, the brief flash of fear, but it’s gone before he can offer reassurance. Solana lowers her legs and walks over to him, Dulce remaining sleeping and unmoving. Not once does Roman remove his gaze from her as he takes her hand, giving a gentle tug to guide her down on the sofa next to him. He slides his arm behind her, holding her body against him, his tattooed forearm across her stomach.

Roman watches the way her eyes close, recognizes that she’s trying to manage her emotions. He sees the little nod she gives herself, as if assuring herself that she’s safe. And he swears he sees her mouth as such.

Mouth the word ‘safe.’

Solana moves her hands to his forearm, as if holding onto him for some sense of comfort. 

He does his best to reassure her. “Relax…”And it seems to do something to help her, offering such a simple yet strong form of solace. “I’d never send you back there. Ever.” And that’s a fucking promise. “You’ll stay here. With me.”

“I’m—” Her voice is less emotional than before. It’s still there, but he can tell it's waning with each second that passes, her comfort level growing. “I’m supposed to give you an heir. What if—what if people start—”

“I’ll take care of it.” And he will. He already started with the Elders earlier today, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

She angles her head up to look at him. “But—” 

Roman brings his hand to her face, gently palming her cheek. “I’ll take care of it.” He moves his thumb over the apple of her cheek and part of her scar. “Alright?”

Solana nods with her acknowledgement but says nothing else as she lays back against him. He notices the absence of tension and discomfort. She’s fully relaxed against him, and Roman acts more out of instinct than anything as he presses lips against her temple for a brief kiss, still mindful of her comfort level. “I’ve got you…”

Everything happening in the past few minutes has been both unexpected and confusing, but there’s nothing confusing about the way Solana suddenly turns her body into him, laying her head on his chest. He watches her eyes close, signifying another layer of fear being peeled back. 

He sits there for who knows how long with her, holding her, noticing the slight rise and fall of her body against his, a sign that she’s fallen asleep. He lets her sleep, lets her rest, lets her stay close to him, under him, with him.

Roman thinks back on his question to her about what she wanted. He’s not sure what he would have said if she said she wanted to leave, because the truth of the matter is that Roman’s starting to think that he couldn’t let her go.

That he can’t.

Even if she wanted to leave. 

[stunie]

i was listening to after midnight by chappel roan and i just! imagined! tsubaki!

like imagine being out with a shitty boyfriend whose ignoring you at a bar and just

“i kinda wanna kiss your girlfriend if you don’t mind- i love a little drama- let’s start a bar fight” and just!

i’m so down bad for tsubaki it’s a problem 😭😭😭

-🥟

🥟 !!! this ask was such a vibe tbh i loved it this sm. you gave me a fun lil song (that’s now in my playlist btw) and a scenario anddd an awesome character ?? i had to write something :> thank u for dropping by !!!! tsubaki is such a lovely character <3 (u r even lovelier)

tasuku tsubakino (tsubaki) x f!reader. sfw. cw cheating (but ur technically not in an official relationship so…!?)

“he’s not with you?”

you’re perking up at the familiar sound of tsubaki’s voice, doe eyes locked on his figure as he slides into the seat beside you before letting out a heavy sigh.

“this again?” he gestures towards your boyfriend, the one who was currently on the other side of the room— over there with another girl.

you’re as quick as always to start shaking your head in denial, hands balling up into frustrated little fists as you press them further into your lap— because hearing things like this never got any less embarrassing no matter how many times you had heard them.

and now that you think about it, it seems like tsubaki was always the one who was catching you at the worst times possible. it was always him being there with you as soon as your boyfriend was leaving you all by yourself again.

and actually… could you even call him your boyfriend? he never officially asked you out.

you can still remember it as clear as day— the very first time tsubaki had asked you if you were seeing anyone. the pause in your voice before you were sputtering out the most confusing response he’s ever heard in his life was all he needed to understand your situation.

you hear tsubaki let out a knowing hum from beside you as soon as your lips are tugging into that pouty frown that he’s grown all too familiar with. that boyfriend of yours— he thinks to himself, what a fucking waste. a pretty face like yours should never be given a reason to frown like that.

it would never happen with him.

“want me to keep you company instead?” he’s giggling when your lips fall open in surprise, deciding to push that bubbling feeling of frustration away for a second and really take in that adorable look you’re giving him.

“i’m more fun, anyways.”

“…h-huh?” you stammer, and the sweet smile tsubaki gives you in response does nothing to rid of your clear confusion. “isn’t that… you know?” you’re quickly looking around before you lean in, as if whispering a dark secret to your best friend, “..cheating? that’s bad.”

oh. you’ve always been exactly like that from the very first day he met you. almost painfully sweet and so, so very oblivious.. because this alleged boyfriend of yours clearly had a much different idea of what you two were.

tsubaki knows this because he’s always kept an eye out for you. you might be too oblivious to notice the men who’ve been ogling at you this entire time, but he’s not.

if your loser of a boyfriend wasn’t gonna protect you, someone else needed to.

“hm?” tsubaki’s fingertip presses into his bottom lip, head tilting to the side, “well, you two aren’t official, no?”

your pout deepens at the implication.

“it’ll be me,” he points to himself, “and you,” he flicks his manicured finger your direction, and you’re suddenly much more aware of how pretty his lipstick looks on him when his lips are moving like that.

“and i’ll give you a little kiss.”

“hm..” your voice comes out quiet and murmured when his hand comes to cup the side of your cheek, thumb stroking the skin as he leans in a little closer, eyes softening as he patiently waits for your decision.

“o-okay,” you finally nod, and he’s letting out an small exhale he didn’t know he was holding to begin with, “…and this is gonna make him jealous?”

tsubaki gives you an eager nod.

“he’s missing out big time,” he smiles at you, eyes flickering towards your boyfriend for a moment— making sure he gets a clear look at this before he’s delicately tilting your head up, closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss.

your eyes are quick to flutter shut as the familiar heat rises in your cheeks, and you wrap your fingers around tsubaki’s wrist to keep him exactly where he’s at. he’s gentle with you, but the soft whimper that slips out of you from the way he’s moving his lips against yours has his heart skipping a couple beats, his free hand now wrapping around your waist to bring you even closer against him.

“good,” tsubaki whispers against your lips between kisses, sneaking a glance at your boyfriend— who was now staring at you with wide eyes, “let’s show him just what exactly he’s missing out on.”

[akookminsupporter]

ARE YOU SURE?!: SECOND EPISODE

MY IMPRESSIONS

Preface: This is not an analysis post, and honestly, I don’t want to overanalyse their interactions or everything they said and did—many others are already doing that. My intention with this post is simply to share my thoughts on the episodes, my impressions, and perhaps my conclusions.

I’m writing this as I watch the episodes for the second time.

The intro still feels too generic for a show featuring TWO SINGERS, but oh well. 

Jimin can never stop praising Jungkook for everything, even the most normal and small things Jungkook does—Jimin will praise him for it. 

I also love how Jimin and Jungkook always, not just on the show, make comments that confirm how well they know each other and how aware they are of everything the other does. 

Jimin and Jungkook really complement each other well, in everything. 

Jimin is more into making plans and wanting to go places, but he’s much calmer. Jungkook isn’t one to plan, but he’ll go with the flow. However, once in those moments, he’s super active. He does everything; he just doesn’t plan it. On the other hand, Jimin plans everything, but even though he participates in everything, he’d prefer to stay sleeping or do it more laid-back, hahaha. 

Seeing Jimin and Jungkook hiking reminded me of that episode of RUN BTS, where Jimin says that if he won, he’d make the loser hike a mountain (I can’t remember the name), and he and Jungkook couldn’t stop laughing. I still wonder what that was all about. 

Their conversations always seem so interesting to me and say a lot about their dynamic. They talk about mundane things and things that, without knowing how they are, wouldn’t make sense. The beautiful thing is that they follow each other’s flow perfectly. Another thing I love about them is that when they’re together, there’s a certain innocence about them and the way they’re gentle without being childish is just too lovely. They definitely have a tone of voice just for the two of them. 

Jimin has a great imagination, no wonder he writes such good songs, hahaha. 

Could Jimin really do a cover of Jungkook’s song and vice versa? Thank you. 

I’m just now noticing the difference in their clothing styles. Jimin really said, “I didn’t shave my legs for nothing!” Hahaha. But yes, black and white all the time, basically. 

When Jimin said he was also a member, Jungkook looked at him as if saying, “Babe, I didn’t mean you,” hahaha. 

The conversation about mosquitoes and Jimin’s blood is too funny. 

I had to look up what omakase means because I obviously didn’t understand what they were talking about, and now that I know, it makes sense. Jimin was absolutely right. 

Maybe it’s just that they really laugh at what they say, but seriously, many things they say and how they react to them make you think they mean something else. Like an innuendo that we’re not supposed to catch, hahaha. 

Everyone’s talking about what Jungkook said to Jimin when he grabbed his sweater, but I haven’t seen anyone talk about how Jungkook responded to it! God, that soft and low tone they use when talking to each other kills me every time I hear it. It’s so delicate and so... private. It’s a very good representation of their relationship in general. 

Jungkook actually said he wanted to try Jimin’s blood, and Jimin really said ‘bet,’ hahaha. 

I love how relaxed and slow the first episodes were. They weren’t there to entertain us; they were there to rest and enjoy their days off, with cameras filming them. The yacht trip was really just that, them enjoying a yacht trip. Nothing more. And I love that they enjoyed it so much. 

I LOVE how they kept saying they felt free or relaxed or incredible just being there. That’s all that matters, right? 

What is it with them and Titanic, seriously? 

Jungkook is so used to Jimin climbing onto his back that he doesn’t even flinch, hahaha. 

Okay, I suppose one of the reasons they said this show would be unfiltered is because of all the times they talked about Jimin needing the toilet, hahaha. Poor man. 

Jungkook searching for more mosquito bites on Jimin’s body is so... I’d like to say someone explain that to me, but I know no one can, or you’ll just say it’s Jikook being Jikook. 

Mate, the way they play-fight is so cute. Like, it’s so damn soft. Delicate. I think I mentioned something about this in my reactions to the first episode, but here it’s more obvious. 

Also, the way Jimin ends up on top of Jungkook and Jungkook acts as if nothing’s out of the ordinary? Okay. 

Something I love about all the members, in general, is how considerate they are of their staff. They always make sure their staff is okay, that they’ve eaten, or that they’re just doing well. That has always spoken very well of them.   The fact that they worked so hard before enlisting and left so much work behind was also a way of taking care of their staff and ensuring they still had jobs during this period of inactivity. The fact that Jin immediately started working, along with his/their staff, is also worth highlighting. 

I was so stressed when Jimin was complaining about his stomach one minute or was afraid to go to the bathroom and then the next minute HE WAS EATING GUACAMOLE AND TACOS WITH ALL THE SALSAS?! Like, my son in Christ, that wasn’t going to help you! 

Jimin always says everything Jungkook does is cute, but Jungkook also finds everything Jimin does cute. And it’s sweet how Jungkook always points out how well Jimin eats or how much he’s enjoying the food. 

Jimin and Jungkook knowing they dominate the charts does wonders for my ego as a fan, hahaha. 

I love how in many of their conversations, they speak in satoori. I hope as the show progresses, they speak more in satoori. 

Jimin validating that there’s nothing wrong with not writing your own songs and saying it’s efficient that way is the biggest FU he could give to Jungkook’s haters, and I’m sure it wasn’t even his intention. 

I really appreciate hearing Jungkook talk a bit more about the direction he initially wanted to go with his single, and I suppose with the album too, and not just that, but what he wanted to achieve with it. Jimin and Jungkook are not new to the industry, and I think both wanted to branch out a bit from what they knew. As Jungkook said, the goals were different. And it’s interesting how their experiences contrast with each other. Jimin wasn’t so used to writing his own songs, so it’s something he wanted to do and ended up enjoying. Jungkook, on the other hand, is someone who has experience writing his own songs, so he already knows the process, and he decided to focus on his voice this time. I suppose that’s why he “sacrificed” part of the process, which ended up being opting not to write his own songs and instead focus on his voice and how he could tell the story others wrote with it. At the end of the day, Jungkook just wants to sing, no matter what story he’s telling or who wrote it. And that’s respectable. 

Jungkook really is Jimin’s chef. Jin wasn’t lying. The fact that Jungkook was always willing to make whatever Jimin wanted to eat is just too cute.

I don’t mean to offend anyone, but I will always side-eye anyone who says they like Twinkies. I haven’t tried many Hostess products, but that is one of the worst, and I’m not going to argue with anyone about it!

Jungkook, I love you, but that’s not how you make authentic carbonara. I’m not Italian, and I still know that. Saying that carbonara requires sugar should be a crime, hahahah.

Jungkook apologising to Jimin for not being able to make the pasta exactly as he wanted is just too sweet.

Watching Jimin eat that pasta – which looked delicious, I won’t lie – was more stressful than it should have been, hahahah.

Jungkook, you were right; WHO ended up being HUGE.

Wait, was Jungkook in the room when Jimin was asking if he should sleep with him and if he did, would he hit him again? Also, I still can’t figure out what Jungkook threw on Jimin’s bed.

Okay, the part where they start “wrestling” while brushing their teeth. Something that stands out about that moment is the silence and their expressions; it’s as if they were holding back from saying something. Yes, I know they had toothbrushes in their mouths, but something similar happened on the yacht. Also, it’s obvious they do those poses we’ve seen before, like when Jungkook carried Jimin during one of their rehearsals – I don’t know if you remember which one I’m talking about. That’s why Jimin looked so comfortable when he climbed onto Jungkook’s shoulders and why Jungkook knew exactly how to lift Jimin, and Jimin knew what to do to make it easier for Jungkook. I’d bet all the money I don’t have that they have a complex of Cirque du Soleil members or something, hahahah.

When Jungkook initially goes to Jimin’s room, he wasn’t wearing a microphone. When he appeared in the kitchen, he initially still didn’t have a microphone on, but after a few seconds, it appeared.

Jungkook really loves eating… junk food, hahahaha. Eating doughnuts in the morning is crazy, hahahaha.

Oh, Jungkook didn’t take off the microphone before getting into Jimin’s bed; he faked putting on the one that was on the bed. So, was that his microphone and did he leave it there the first time he went to Jimin’s room? Or was that Jimin’s microphone and he thought it was his? I’m confused.

I don’t want to analyse that moment, but I think I will analyse that moment in their bed. Bro, the way they did all that in silence, with only grunts heard, was intense. The way Jungkook adjusts Jimin’s leg to snuggle up to it is too much for my cold heart. The way Jimin seemed to want to climb on top of Jungkook or something similar and then they pretended to “wrestle” in bed or whatever that was, is too much.

Jungkook spanking Jimin is… bro. The way Jungkook then buried his face in Jimin’s back, making sure to be as close to him as possible is… oh, my crazy heart.

Saying almost immediately after waking up that they needed to buy a sponge to wash the dishes is perhaps the most domestic thing those two have said. My Latina mother would be proud of them, hahahah.

Oh wait, was that actually Jungkook’s microphone?! Then why was it already on Jimin’s bed when he came in the second time?

I LOVE, LOVE how relaxed Jimin and Jungkook were throughout the episode.

Jimin and Jungkook’s light-hearted bickering during the two episodes was delightful. I love seeing more of that side of their dynamic.

MY CONCLUSION ON THE SECOND EPISODE:

I loved the second episode, maybe even more than the first one.

Here, Jimin and Jungkook were more comfortable. It’s as if, after a few hours or a day, they fell into the comfort of their relationship and everything after that was easy. I think they finally got used to the cameras more than anything else.

So, this second episode was about Jimin and Jungkook being domestic. The episode was about them enjoying the tranquillity of their trip. The domesticity of their trip. The slow pace, basically. And I loved it.

I saw some comments from people saying they didn’t like it and even that the episodes were boring, and look, I respect those opinions, but I do wonder what they were expecting to see. The difference with this show compared to other BTS content we’re used to is that there are only 2 people. In BTS shows, when one isn’t doing something, the other four are either doing something crazy or saying something funny. Obviously, it’s different. Besides, I think this is how Jimin and Jungkook are in their normal lives. This is them being themselves. This is them on holiday, and I think that’s something we, as fans, should appreciate.

Jimin and Jungkook are chaotic but in a different way. They’re not chaotic in the sense of doing a thousand crazy things in different places, but rather doing a thousand things in one place. They’re more homebodies. They’ve said that many times. And I think we’ll see a lot of that.

I think I’ve said this in other posts, this show is Jimin and Jungkook genuinely on holiday, only this time they brought several cameras with them.

The most interesting moments certainly were something. I wonder what was cut in the editing room because there were obvious cuts in those moments.

Jungkook saying they should do many more seasons of this is a good testament to how much he enjoyed it. This was confirmed by the interview given by the show’s director.

I can’t wait to see the rest of the episodes. And I REALLY want to see the behind-the-scenes of these first two episodes.

If you’ve made it this far, I’m sorry and thank you—I just couldn’t stop writing ajajajajaja.

[likeadevils]

talk more about taylor lying to make a cleaner story! i also find it hilarious but am only aware of a few examples (love story, i wish you would). are there others that you can elaborate on?

yeah! a lot of these are going to be splitting hairs a bit, and i understand her reasoning for all of these, and also this is by far one of my favorite things about her like i love every time she does this.

speak now:

famously, taylor said originally speak now being solo-written was an accident, because she was spending so much time alone in hotels and writing at werid hours of the night. this is not true, she's said many times she lied about this and did it to prove that she was writing her own songs and not getting pity credits or whatever

(THIS IS THE MOST SUBJECTIVE AND OUTSIDER PERSPECTIVE ENTRY ON THE LIST) back to december makes it seem like taylor had much deeper feelings for taylor lautner than she did. i dont think they were ever exclusive; she wrote both enchanted and ours about other people while her and taylor were ostensibly dating. i think taylor squared just went on a couple dates and when lautner tried to make it exclusive in december, swift turned him down

the secret message to mine is 'toby', which is the name of the guy who starred in the music video. i have heard persistent rumors that mine is about a college guy she dated in early 2010, and his name might be toby, but at the very least she's trying to trick us

red:

taylor told this to the la times: “I knew I wanted to bookend the album with 'State of Grace' and 'Begin Again' because they're inspired by the same person who inspired a few songs on the record. I wanted to start and end the album with the first and last song I ever wrote about that relationship." i can't definitively say state of grace wasn't the first song she wrote about that relationship (though she has said all too well is the first song she wrote for the album), i can definitively say she wrote wanegbt four months after she wrote begin again

taylor said this about red: "When I'm writing a record, I kind of don't listen to much music [...] the only artists that I really listened to were Snow Patrol and Ed Sheeran, and that's the reason why I wanted to collaborate with those people on the record." taylor gave many updates on what she was listening to throughout writing red, most notably the arm lyrics on the speak now tour. she gave occasional shout outs to what she was listening to on twitter and instagram into the spring of 2012, and various artists have talked about her complimenting recently relased songs at the time. this is one of my favorites like this made me laugh out loud when i first read it

the secret message for everything has changed, a song she wrote in may, is "hyiannis port", implying that it is about her relationship with connnor kenedy, who she met two months after writing the song

every single time she implied ikywt was about harry in 2013. i don't think it's a complete lie, but she did start writing the song about three months before she met him. finished it after the first time they broke up though

1989:

while taylor (as far as we know) did not have a long term boyfriend in 2013, she did go on dates (funniest one is with tom odell, who wrote this song about her), and it seems like some of those dates were with the intention of finding something more permanent (hence her disappointed "Dating is awful. Love is fiction/ a myth. I’m over it all.").

this and many, many interviewers where taylor says that she got the idea to make a 80s album after losing album of the year at the grammy's (she tells a lot of different stories about that night). bonus points if she says she had “accidentally” been incorporating 80s synths before that. it seems like taylor had the idea to make an 80s pop album around may of 2013 (to many little sources for this one, check my 1989 timeline), and taylor explicitly requested ryan tedder to make 80s pop for her before the grammy's where she lost album of the year.

taylor did not move to new york until after 1989 (at least non-tv) was finished

taylor didn't move from nashville to new york. she largely moved out of nashville to LA in early 2012, and spent a good portion of 2013 split between LA and rhode island.

reputation

taylor: "'I Did Something Bad' I wrote after Arya and Sansa conspire to kill Littlefinger." that episode aired in august of 2017. we have video proof of her writing idsb in october of 2016. now, filming for that season did begin in august of 2016 and lasted for another 6 months, so she could've been receiving insider information? but in the same article she said she was avoiding spoilers and she seems to be unaware of the upcoming events in season 8. i don't know what's going on here i love it

various sessioners have reported that taylor said she wrote all the songs on reputation for reputation, not years in advance. it seems like she had some lyrics for ready for it, dress, and new years day written years in advance. this is the most nit picky entry on this list and i’m annoying myself just by writing it

lover

taylor: "I posted [the seven palm trees] the day the I finished the seventh album." taylor did not finish the album in february, she definitely added death by a thousand cuts after april 24, and likely added london boy in july, something she knew at the time of giving the interview.

this interview about the making of lover (the song): "Interviewer: [Jack] was calling that the Paul bass, is that Paul McCartney? Taylor: Yeah. [Two seconds later] Jack: It's not a true Paul bass at all."

folklore and evermore

the statement that inspired this post, that folklore was the first time taylor wrote non-autobiographical songs! not true! large swathes of debut, fearless, and speak now are about made up scenarios! best believe taylor swift, born in 1989, did not meet bobby on the boardwalk in the summer of '45!

this interview with paul mccartney, where she says there is a song on folklore about "a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair" (ivy, a song on evermore), and when asked what books inspired her on folklore, named Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, the book that inspired tolerate it (another song on evermore).

edit cause i forgot: those joe credits on folklore are. so funny. no he did not. like i generally take taylor at something approximating her word but i'm gonna need some proof on this one. exile and betty i buy everything else is ridiculous. queen shit though

as for midnights-on, only time will tell. she also just does less interviews now so there’s less opportunities to catch her flubbing

[em1i2a3]

Twin Size Mattress (Bjorn One Shot)

Bjorn x fem!reader

Authors note: Hello! I am definitely new to this. I haven’t written in quite a few years, and just like many hobbies, when you haven’t done it for a while the skill dwindles. So I was hoping I could write something to share on here for the first time, to start dipping my toes back into the pool as most people would say. Like everyone else who is probably lurking these tags, I was pretty enamoured by Bjorn in Alien Romulus (I also went to watch it multiple times in theatres but that was not for Bjorn, I just have a hyper fixation on horror movies.), so I hope everyone enjoys!

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, DNI if you’re underage please, Smut, mentions of loss and grief, unprotected P in V sex (please be safe…you know the drill), swearing, some very light choking, some foreplay, and a hint of angst? I am hoping I didn’t miss anything because I rarely go back to read over my work due to being extremely picky with wording.

A p.s. from the author: I was listening to a lot of The Front Bottoms when I named this piece, and I thought this song would be fitting for the title.

Word count: 6,390 (yes. I know. I am wordy okay? lol)

On the ship, you never expected such limited space. You never expected to share a bed, and you certainly never expected to share a bed with Bjorn of all people. You hadn’t been on a trip with the team at all, you stayed on base most of the time, but when Tyler proposed the escapade, you thought a change of scenery would benefit you. The mines were beyond torture to you, and being able to leave that behind for an unknown amount of time was extremely tempting.

Now, somehow, you found yourself back to back with one of the people you despised most. He was not a fan of you either, but you were focused more on your distaste for him, you couldn’t care less what he thought of you, definitely not after you overheard him talking about you several times with the rest of the crew. He didn’t like your guts, or how you tried to fit in with the group without having any inkling of what they had gone through together. The crew was his found family and he saw you as an intrusion to that harmony. Not only that but Bjorn didn’t even care to give you a chance, so you had given up on trying to be friendly, and everyone was aware of the mutual hatred. Yet you still managed to get the least desirable spot in the ship.

You laid awake, staring at the wall of the room, listening to the low hum that the ship emitted, the vibrations gently shaking your face. Bjorn shuffled behind you, pulling the blanket that the two of you shared. They couldn’t even give us separate blankets, you thought as you gripped your side, protecting the surface area you had.

“Do you fucking mind?” He said through gritted teeth, “I’m cold.” He added, yanking on the blanket again.

“You can freeze for all I care.” You replied back, mirroring his actions by pulling the end that you were gripping.

“M’ Sure you’re used to the cold since your ‘art is the same temperature.” He said, trying his hardest to pull the knitted blanket over his exposed legs.

”Well if you didn’t dress like you were going into cryosleep you would be warmer. Now shut up and go to sleep before I kick you off the bed and make you sleep on the metal floor.” You spat back.

Before Bjorn climbed into bed he had stripped off his work clothes, leaving him in nothing but a white tank top that hung loosely on him, and a pair of sleep shorts that were a few sizes too big, you had noticed that he had to put on a belt to wear them when you had caught an unwanted glimpse of him taking off the clothing articles. For you though, you were smarter, you brought long sleeved shirts, woven sleep pants, and sweaters, to ensure that you were going to be comfortable throughout the night, knowing that some ships got cold when you were not constantly moving on them.

”Unlike you I want to be comfortable when I sleep.” He replied, pulling the blanket once more. Snapping the tension that was building in you.

”I swear to god Bjorn, stop fucking pulling the blanket!” You exclaimed loud enough for the crew next door to hear. A sharp bang on the wall indicated that everyone was fed up with the argument, telling the both of you to shut up without words. A pang of silence rang through the both of you, as a defeated sigh escaped your mouth, slowly letting some of the blanket out of your grip, allowing him to cover the rest of his body. No more words were exchanged that night, not even a thank you.

————

You were sitting at your mother’s bedside, watching her lay with her eyes closed, she looked like the colour of ash, her lips were blue, and chapped. Her lively appearance had been drained from her, and she was a shell of who you had known her to be. You hadn’t left her side since the medic announced the time of death. They had unhooked her from the machines as you sat there, crying, holding her hand, but you refused to go, it had been hours. She was all you had, and she was now just a vessel of bones. You were never going to hear her voice, or see her smile, or feel her arms around you ever again, and of all times you wished you could take back everything you had said to her, but it was too late.

You were so focused on memorizing your mothers face, you didn’t hear the sliding doors of the medical room open. You only realized another set of people were in there once they pulled you up by your work shirt. Your hand let go of your mothers, as they began to pull you towards the exit, mumbling something that was incoherent to you at that point, as you were now blinded by fiery rage. You screamed and begged at the top of your lungs to have them let you go, to let you be with your mother for a few more minutes, but they were having none of it. You had resorted to pushing back against them, pulling the opposite direction as the securities grip tightened on your wrist. You kept screaming and screaming until it all went black.

————

“Wake the fuck up!” Bjorn exclaimed, shaking you roughly. The scent of cigarettes wafting from his mouth as his hot breath hit your face with his words. You sat up quickly, almost out of a distinct reflex, luckily he had moved back in time before you forehead hit his face. Your chest was burning, and a familiar taste of salty tears coated your lips, as a bead of sweat dripped down your temple. You placed a hand on your chest, feeling the hard thumping of your heart against it. You tried to catch your breath slowly, not even acknowledging the feeling of Bjorn’s eyes watching you.

He had gotten out of bed just a few minutes before this whole thing, craving a cigarette. He didn’t leave the cramped room, he just sat off to the side, with his arms hanging over his knees, taking long drags and staring at your body rising and falling with increasing intensity. He thought that you were just an odd sleeper, but when you started screaming it sent him into immediate action, knowing that the rest of the crew would’ve automatically assumed it was his fault if he didn’t stop the gut-wrenching sounds. He hadn’t heard anyone scream the way that you were screaming, and he hoped that he would never have to experience it ever again, cause even through all the unfiltered hatred he had for you, he knew something bad must’ve triggered this sort of reaction from you.

He sat in silence, watching you as more tears streamed down your face, your hands reaching up to rub the dampness off your cheeks. He looked over at the mini fridge in the corner of the room, and got off the bed, retrieving his water bottle from the inside of it, returning to you and bumping your arm with the cold metal, grabbing your attention. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy, but there was anger behind them, until it softened once you noticed what he was holding out to you. He moved it in front of you, a silent offer. A glint of distrust appeared behind your stare.

”Don’t worry. Just water.” His voice was soft, almost like he was hurt that you thought he was going to give you something other than that, especially in this moment of all times. You reached out for the bottle, taking it gently out of his hands, avoiding his eyes once again, as you unscrewed the cap and drank, the cold metal touching your lips, and the refreshing water moisturizing your dry mouth. You pulled the bottle away, screwing the cap back on before attempting to hand it back to him.

”Thank you.” Your voice was hoarse, and the words stung your throat, raw from the screaming you had done moments before. Bjorn gave you a small nod, slowly sitting down on the bed in front of you. He didn’t take his bottle back though. The silence overtook you again, as you sniffed, trying to breathe through your nose. Bjorn rubbed his hands on his sleep shorts, watching the goosebumps start to rise on his pale skin which was now in your field of vision.

“Are you alright?” He broke the silence, clearing his throat. You didn’t respond. You felt like your body was reliving the trauma, even though it had been two years by this point, “Do you want to talk about it?” He added, trying not to push you, but curious as to what caused the screaming spell. You never heard Bjorn’s voice be so gentle before, it was uncanny in a way, the complete opposite of his cursing and loud demeanor he tended to display throughout the normal crew interactions. You found yourself somehow feeling warm towards the tone.

”I-I’m fine.” You responded, coughing from the mucus that was built up in your throat from the crying spell.

”Doesn’t look like it. And it certainly doesn’t sound like it.” He shivered slightly, not wanting to get into another fight about the blanket, knowing it was a bad time to ask for you to share when you were in this highly emotional state. He rubbed his rough hands over his biceps, generating some heat from the friction, as he kept his eyes on you, watching as you fumbled with the lid of his water bottle, rocking slowly, almost in a way to soothe yourself.

“Listen…I know we may not get along…But I’m genuinely concerned.” He admitted, now moving a bit closer to you, reaching his hands out to hold your shoulders, almost as if he was grounding you to reality. “Can you talk or are you going into shock?” You blinked slowly, shaking your head, now grasping his wrist into your hand, removing his cold touch from your body.

”I don’t need your pity Bjorn, just drop it.” His eyebrows knitted together, scoffing at the sentence that just dropped from your lips, his hands hitting his knees in frustration as he stood up from the bed, going towards his pile of clothes.

”Y’know what? You don’t deserve my pity. You don’t deserve anything actually. I-I try to help and you have to always make it seem like you’re the toughest person in the crew, when you’re just a scared little girl. You’re a fucking baby, and deep down behind that fake front you’re putting on you’re just a lost fucking person, just begging to be accepted.” He rambled, as he grabbed his sweater, putting it on over his head, fixing his red bandana in the process.

”If you even went through an inch of what I’ve had to go through Bjorn you wouldn’t be wanting someone else’s pity either. Who the fuck do you think you are, trying to fucking act like you suddenly are concerned about me. You’ve hated me this entire time, you couldn’t care less, you just fucking switch on a dime and act like a knight in shining armour, as if we weren’t just fighting over a blanket a few hours ago. Don’t you fucking dare talk to me about fake fronts. You know NOTHING about me, and you wouldn’t understand what losing someone is like, so go fuck yourself.” You shot back, venom filling every word that left your mouth. The last part in particular made him go rigid, his hands gripping the table in front of him. His knuckles turning white from the steel grip he had around the wood. It immediately registered with you that you struck a nerve, your breath hitching in your throat as his head bowed down. In a matter of seconds Bjorn spun around on his heel and threw something at you, clinking against the water bottle before falling onto your lap. Dog tags? You thought.

”Those were my moms spare ones. She always had backups in case she lost her usual ones in the mines. She died last year. Buried beneath the rubble. Never coming back. You think you know what loss is? You think you know grief? Imagine not havin a chance to say goodbye, then come on out and accuse me of not fucking understanding what losing someone is like.” The words hit you like a pound of bricks, as your brain took a few moments to process what he was saying. You put the water bottle down beside you, now holding the dog tags in your hands, feeling the engraving of his mother's name on it, with her standard issued number right below it. You looked up at him, watching him clench his jaw under your stare. A pang of regret echoed through your body, as your eyes softened.

”Bjorn…I…”

”Save it, I don’t want your pity.” He interrupted, twisting your words back to you, crossing his arms over his chest, as his crystal blue irises watched your delicate, scarred-up hands hold the dog tags, almost as if they would break under her touch, “Maybe It’ll teach you to think before you speak next time.” He muttered, your eyes flashing up to him, as his gaze broke away to look at the floor now. You slumped down into the blanket that surrounded you, the silence encompassing the room once again. You looked back down at the dog tags, releasing a small sigh while sliding off the mattress, your bare feet meeting the cold metal floor. Bjorn couldn’t help but peek through his lashes as he watched you stop in front of him, leaving a bit of space between the two of you. He could feel your warm breath fan his face, the sweet minty smell of your mouthwash tickling his nose. Suddenly he felt your arms wrap around his neck, and the cold metal chain touching his skin, the contact made him tense up, but he stayed still for you until a small click was heard. You adjusted the dog tags gently, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I should have never said what I said…I know how you feel Bjorn. I understand how it feels to lose a mom, and I should’ve been aware that I am not the only one who has experienced something like that.” You avoided looking up, knowing he was already looking at you. Even though you hated him you knew when the heat of his ice-blue eyes were on you, and you avoided looking back every time.

”Does the grief get easier?” He whispered as if he was asking you for top-secret information. You held the dog tags between your fingers still, licking your dried lips, and shaking your head.

”It doesn’t…But it becomes your normal. My mother passed away two years ago, and as you can tell I haven’t gotten over it.” You let go of the tags, letting them drop against the sweater he was wearing, taking the courage to meet his eyes, “The nightmares don’t come often, and hopefully one day, I won’t be haunted by that night anymore.” You closed your eyes, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, giving it a small bite, taking some of the dry skin off, drawing a droplet of blood from it, letting the metallic taste settle on your tongue.

Bjorn stared at you, almost enamoured by the way you worded your thoughts, feeling his heart tighten slightly at the sight of you biting your bottom lip. His hand instinctively came up to cup your cheek, his thumb running along the skin just below your eye. You tensed up under his cold palm, flinching back slightly, as your gaze fixated on his. Maybe it was the moment that preceded it, the genuine heart to heart you both were having, but you caught yourself melting into the touch, pushing your cheek more into his hand, holding the stare. Your eyes glistened under the dim lighting, beckoning him to come closer, to close the gap between the two of you, like a siren trying to entrap men at sea, and he was one of your victims.

Slowly he leaned in, trying to gauge your body language as he approached. You didn’t move a muscle, and you could’ve sworn you felt the air from your lungs hitch in your throat, his hot breath now fanning over your lips, pausing to test if you were going to make the final move. As you threw your common sense out the window you closed the gap, allowing the moment to take over, pressing your lips against his, a soft sigh escaping from both of you, like this kiss was somehow a long time coming.

Bjorn's hand left your cheek to hold the side of your neck, your pulse beating against his palm, while the other one was placed firmly on your waist, his fingertips digging into the clothed flesh of your hips. The kiss was sloppy, a feverish craving developing slowly as you adapted to one another’s movements. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself into him, a small moan being exchanged, both of you pulling away for a moment to look at each other. To give each other a final chance to realize what you were doing and who you were doing it with.

Red heat crept onto both of your faces, your hands now tangling themselves into his hair, pulling him in again to avoid thinking about the meaning of what you guys were doing, not wanting to put your actions into question. You pulled gently at the hair within your grip, a muted moan vibrating against your lips as Bjorn now had both hands placed on your hips, sneaking under your long-sleeved shirt to touch the soft skin beneath. Goosebumps slowly climbed up your skin, a shiver creeping up your spine, as he switched positions so you were pressed against the small table, entrapping you with his body. His hands slid down the backs of your thighs as he lifted you gently and placed your bottom onto the wooden surface. Your legs opened up for him, letting him settle between them.

You pulled back this time, opening your eyes to look at his face. His lips were already red and swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and you couldn’t help but reach out and touch the tender flesh, watching his icy blue irises observe you, as you dragged your thumb down the middle of his lip, to his chin. A soft moan escaped into the air as his hands desperately searched for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side.

“Oh my god.” He whispered, looking at your bare chest, your skin flushing beneath his gaze, holding back the instinct to cover yourself up. Your breathing escalated, and you felt the nerves begin to bundle and coil in your stomach. You did not know if this was a good situation, but you reassured yourself that you would take care of it in the morning. The cold air of the enclosed room hardened your nipples as Bjorn leaned towards you, his soft lips slowly kissing down your neck, with his rough, calloused hands running down your bareback. You could feel his teeth gently graze the skin of your collarbone, a small bite being felt, making you flinch in his hands at the sensation that crowded your consciousness, you could feel his lips form a small smirk against your skin, his eyes glancing at up at you briefly to witness the blush slowly invade your cheeks.

“You okay?” He asked, his hot breath sticking to the skin just above the mound of your breast, his eyes watching you closely for your reaction, trying to see if there was hesitance. His lips parted slightly, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive flesh, earning a soft sigh out of you.

“I’m okay.” You replied, “Are you okay?” Returning the same level of concern he had, as his lips took your pebbled nipple into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks to create a tense suction while the tip of his tongue collaborated with the pressure, a gasp emitting into the air. He pulled back for a moment, with a small pop.

“I’m on fire.” His voice was husky, his mouth returning to the same spot again, adding more saliva to the sensitive skin on your nipples, as your thighs enclosed around Bjorn’s hips, feeling the tenting in his shorts brush up against your core. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, as your brain focused on the sensations of his tongue, whilst also trying to find the bottom of his sweater with your hands. You tugged at the hem of the clothing, watching him pull off your nipple again to aid you in removing the top, throwing it to the side, and leaving him in his undershirt. Your eyes roamed over his exposed skin, now paying attention to the details you never noticed before, tracing the outline of the healed scars that glistened in the light, you assumed it was from the mines, knowing that the ricocheting rocks could give some pretty nasty scrapes. There was a pause, as the two of you exchanged momentary glances, before touching foreheads. He snaked his arms around you, pulling you up and off the desk, your legs wrapped around him out of instinct while he was making his way over to the small mattress. Your lips found his again, desire burning behind every action you took, feeling your back hit the bed, the mattress pillowing around you. His weight pressed down onto your body, his hands sliding down your bare torso, right to the tie of your pyjama pants, the two of you continuing to kiss hungrily, your teeth nibbling his bottom lip. He pulled away, holding himself up with one arm.

“Can I take them off?” He breathed, motioning to his hand on the tie. You nodded, lifting your hips off the bed so he could pull the pants down off your long legs, bunching them up and throwing them to the side, taking in the sight before him. His eyes roamed over the skin of your legs, smooth and unmarked, leading up to the green lacy underwear you wore, the last thing you had on. You felt his calloused fingers trace up your thigh, as you sat up taking his face into your hands, watching him close his eyes.

“Lay down.” You instructed, his eyelids fluttering open to meet your gaze, “But let’s take this off first.” You added, slipping the undershirt off his form, exposing more of his milky white skin, your hands running down his chest, feeling the thumping of his heart against your palm, your eyes glued to him as he listened to your instructions, laying on his back as you climbed on top of him, your legs straddling his waist, placing pressure on the tent that was formed in his shorts. He pushed his head back on the mattress, as his mouth slowly opened, his hands resting on your hips to press you down harder against the fabric adding friction to the area.

You could feel your arousal pool in your panties, as he dragged your hips forward and back against the outline of his cock. You can tell that he was well-endowed, which made you nervous. It wasn’t your first time having sex, but you had run into a dry spell, it had been a year and a half by this point - not that you were counting the days - and you feared that you possibly lost your touch. Now being aware of his size you had this innate desire to impress him, paying attention to the grip he had on your hips, feeling his fingers dig into your flesh with each movement. He looked up at you, lust filling behind the blue irises as he removed one hand from your waist, bringing his fingers up to his mouth, coating them in saliva, before sitting up, not wanting to stay on his back. His touch left a wet trail down your stomach, brimming the waistband of your underwear, silently asking to continue further. In desperation, your lips met his, wanting to be closer to him, hoping that this was a good enough answer for him to go on with what he was planning.

His hand slid under the waistband, feeling the wetness that was soaked into the cloth of your underwear, a light moan escaping his mouth. You pulled him closer to you, your hands roaming over his shoulder blades. He smiled against your lips, as his fingertips grazed over your clit, earning a sharp intake of breath from you that was a little louder than expected. He pulled back quickly, using his spare hand to cover your mouth.

“You need to be quiet.” He whispered, smirking at the way your face turned bright red, continuing to circle your clit in a slow and rhythmic motion. The wetness from his saliva allows for a smooth glide across the bundle of nerves, causing your hips to buckle slightly. Bjorn removed his hand from your mouth, placing it onto your breast, and giving it a rough squeeze. You closed your eyes tightly as his fingers continued working on both erogenous zones, synching them together so that when your hips ground against his hand his fingers squeezed your nipple. He leaned down, his mouth latching onto your free breast, sucking hard on the sensitive flesh, leaving a dark red mark, and moving to the other side to do the same.

Your brain was clouded, not knowing what to focus on, completely intoxicated by the attention Bjorn was giving you. You were surprised by how gentle he was when usually he carried himself like an unattentive jerk most of the time. His fingers suddenly stopped rubbing your clit, as his hand moved further into the slick wetness of your panties, dipping two fingers inside of you. Your mouth dropped open at the delicious stretch his thick digits provided, mentally reminding yourself not to make excessive noise. A small smile drew up on his swollen lips.

“God you’re so tight.” His words brushed against your lips, “I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He added, smirking at the way your eyes closed at the words he said, curling his fingers inside you, moving them slowly to build up the tension that electrified all your senses. Through your short gasps for air one of your hands made its way down his chest, undoing his belt and throwing it to the side, ghosting your lips against his before slipping your hand beneath the waistband, finding his hard cock in an instant. You couldn’t see it, but the outline didn’t prepare you for the thickness and length that you were palming at the moment. Precum was already dripping from the head of his penis as you started stroking, spreading the warm stickiness along the shaft. Now, just like you, he was taking in short breaths, the rhythm of his fingers being thrown off at the touch of your hand.

“Do I need a c-condom?” He asked, already thinking ahead so there was no delay once all the layers were off.

“I…Implant.” You shuddered, trying to speak without your words getting caught in your throat, “Got it r-replaced a month ago.” His lips met the marked flesh of your breast, giving light kisses on the area.

“You want me to fill you with my cum? You wanna be leaking me all day long? Hm?” His voice vibrated against your skin, his mouth leaving another purpled bruise over your breast. The sheer thought caused your walls to flutter around his fingers, which encouraged him to continue his quickened pace. You could feel yourself getting to the point where your legs were beginning to twitch from the sensation he was causing you, your orgasm building inside your velvety walls. Bjorn took the opportunity and added another finger into you, stretching you out as much as possible, the sudden intrusion making your back arch into him. He took advantage of the moment of weakness and flipped you over, so now you were at his mercy, a yelp escaping your throat at the newfound pressure of his body on yours.

“Tell me what you want….” He said, his breath hitting the shell of your ear, his full puffy lips ghosting the skin so delicately. His body shuddered as you began to stroke him with a little more roughness

“I want…You.” Your voice was hoarse, almost cracking at the desperation, as your free hand took his bandana off his head, throwing it to the side so his hair could fall in front of his face. He hummed, pumping his fingers in and out a few more times before removing them, bringing his glistening digits up to his lips, sucking the juices off them like it was honey.

“You taste so sweet…S-so delicious.” He murmured, getting every last drop before moving off of you, your grip leaving his hardened member. He grabbed the blanket placing it at his waist before beckoning you to come join him under the covers. You removed your underwear, watching him shuffle beneath the blanket, assuming that he was removing his shorts, the last thing that was hindering the finality of what the both of you were going to do. You knew things were going to change after this, there was no denying that, and it was slowly dawning on you that you didn’t know how you were going to handle this in the morning. Are you and Bjorn going to suddenly become friendly, and allow the people around you to catch wind of what happened? Or are you going to keep it your little secret? You had no clue, and it currently wasn’t the right time to ask, so once again, you pushed the thoughts away, settling in under the covers with him, his skin touching yours, setting the area ablaze, as the electric heat rushed up your body.

You turned onto your side, mirroring the position he was in, allowing yourself to look at him, allowing the silence to come between the two of you. A small smile appeared on his lips, his hand reaching out to push a piece of hair out of your face. The two of you took a moment to breathe, almost like you were trying to emotionally sync together. He could sense you were thinking too hard, the cogs in your brain turning about what was going to happen after this, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment to have a long conversation about the future, it wasn’t the right time.

His hand caressed your cheek, as you brought your leg over his hip to close the small space you mindfully left between the two of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Bjorn blurted out, he could see your eyes widen slightly, “I mean…I just don’t want you to wake up tomorrow morning hating me even more because we did this. I also don’t want to take advantage of our heart to heart…I just want to make sure…” He trailed off, looking at your lips turning up into a soft smile, your head shaking.

“I want this.” You replied, “And you’re not taking advantage of me, and I won’t hate you even more when we wake up.” You added, hoping that those confirmations were enough to give him the go ahead. He nodded, before his arm slid around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a gentle kiss onto your lips, placing his weight forward so he can have you laying on your back.

He settled between your legs, holding your neck with his hand, giving it a taunting squeeze, as he adjusted to the position on top of you, feeling the wetness between your legs against him. He pulled back, letting his free hand grab his cock, giving it a few strokes to spread the precum over the length. You watched him do this with your lip caught between your teeth in anticipation, his body leaning closer to you to let the tip drag down your folds to find your entrance. His eyes met yours, wanting to look into them as he slowly thrusted into you. Your mouth dropped open, as his lips met yours to swallow the gasp that almost made its escape.

The warmth surrounded him, your walls taking him in willingly, the stretch making you breathless, and leaving you feeling full, even though he wasn’t close to bottoming out. His breath was heavy as he continued to push, feeling his hips buckle slightly from the pure heat that was running through him, that held him. He squeezed your neck gently, pulling back from your mouth, a small whimper leaving your throat, desperately wanting his lips to be back on yours.

”Y-You feel so good Bjorn.” You managed to say quietly, your voice sounding like you were on the brink of tears, your hands sliding up from his chest, all the way up his neck, to now lace through his hair, as you continued to feel him push into you gasping when he bottomed out right against your cervix, his hips meeting yours. The hand that was on your neck slid to your cheek.

”You need to try to be quiet.” He said, knowing that it might be no use, even he was struggling to hold back at this point. You nodded, pulling him back down so your lips can crash against his again, the sloppy wetness distracting you for a moment, as he pulled out, so just the tip remained in you, before burying himself into you again, your moans vibrating between the two of you, trying to keep the volume down as much as possible. Slowly Bjorn found his rhythm, allowing you to adjust fully to his size before he picked up the movements. His lips pulled away from yours, as he moved to the side of your neck, peppering wet kissing against the sensitive flesh, before blowing on the damp spots, the cooling sensation sending shivers up your spine.

”B-Bjorn…I-I…” You couldn’t get any words out, the way his hips continued to meet yours in an agonizing roughness was too much for you to even think. The pleasure coiled inside you with each movement, and it left you breathless, as Bjorn pulled back to look into your dazed eyes. He felt pride knowing how speechless you were, watching you gasp as he teasingly pulled out to the tip only for him to push harder back into you, letting himself graze your cervix to add to the pressure that was building inside you. Your walls fluttered around him, as your nails dragged down his back, causing him to shudder.

”You feel so good…So fucking good.” He breathed, moving back a little so he was sitting up slightly, to watch himself go in and out of you, his mouth forming an ‘o’ as his head tilted back, eyes closing. “If only you could see how good your pussy looks when it’s taking my cock. It’s like a fucking dream…You’re a fucking dream.” His hands dug into the skin of your hips, as he pushed himself in harder, the sound of skin slapping on skin now echoing through the small room. The back of your head pressed into the pillow, your back arching up, breasts perking, as your body began to grind into his thrusts, adding additional pressure against your g-spot. The slight shift in position allows you to feel the veins of his cock drag against your walls, leaving you breathless.

“Jesus Christ Bjorn, please…Harder.” You begged quietly, feeling the coil in your core begin to burn, the tension building with each movement he made. His eyes roamed over your body, as his hands brought your legs up onto his shoulders, a loud gasp escaping your throat.

“I want you to come on me. I want to feel your sweet little cunt tighten around my cock.” He stated, kissing your calf, as his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing your hands down to pin them on either side of your head. You writhed under him as his thrusts became sloppier, his hips grinding against yours as the both of you chased the release you craved. His right hand released yours as he wrapped it around your neck, digging gently into your pulse points adding just enough pressure to make you lightheaded, your hand coming up to hold his wrist. The tension finally snapped inside you as you cried out, your walls clenching around him, your body shuddering at the ecstacy that flowed through you. Your hooded eyes looked up at him, pleading, feeling him slide your legs off his shoulders so he can press his body against yours craving the intimacy of the position.

“Please Bjorn. Please cum in me.” You begged, his lips ghosting yours, his head nodding, as his hard thrusts began to falter, slowing slightly until he pushed deeper into you, the tip of his cock pressing right up against your cervix as he filled you up with his hot seed, a soft ‘ahh’ escaping his throat, his hips bucking against yours as he rode out his high. His cock twitched against your overly stimulated walls, making sure every last drop of his cum had settled into you before pulling out, and letting go of your neck with a sigh. He pressed a soft, satisfying kiss against your lips, rolling off of you soon after, landing on his back. You pulled the blanket up over your chest, looking down at the marks that he had left on the tops of your breasts, then looking at him, seeing the spent look on his face, a small smile painted on his reddened lips.

”That…That was fucking amazing.” He said, his hand reaching over to interlace your fingers together, head tilting to meet your eyes.

“We should get into fights more often.” You commented, causing the both of you to laugh.

“Maybe we could arrange that.”

[cyberbrained]

Schwein Interview: Part 1 — Atsushi Sakurai / Rockin'F (June 2001)

There were different troubles, this time it was a fight with myself

Part 1 — Atsushi Sakurai interview Interviewer: Yoshiyuki Oono scans: tigerpal @ dreamwidth/livejournal

I thought everything would work out if I let my natural flavor spill freely in Japanese

Did you write the lyrics based on the compositions? Sakurai: That’s right. First, around last autumn, six compositions written by Sascha and Raymond were completed. The songs’ structure was well done, vocals and chorus were added. Although there were also vocals by Lucia [Cifarelli] in the song Porno, I was told “Please, Atsushi, add melodies and lyrics however you like here.” Generally that was the feeling. So, regarding the recording itself, from starting work on the songs, ideas came in more and more; times when we were told, “I’m entrusting you with everything,” increased. Hence, being given freedom in working, this became a collaboration.

Did you discuss the content of the lyrics with Raymond and co.? Sakurai: I did. Although I was told, “Please do whatever you like,” too many mental images were off so talking about the title and Raymond’s connotations gave me a hint for the lyrics.

This time unusual alcohol and women came up in the lyrics. Are those motifs Raymond held? Sakurai: Perhaps I should say it was simultaneous [between us]…

Like you recorded while drinking? Sakurai: There was that too (laugh). What Raymond said and the things I myself hold were rather close. “What can I do, I wonder?” When it was time to talk seriously, if I thought about what’s coming to mind, it was all things I like. Alcohol and women (laugh). But even though I liked the words that came first, I wondered what my specialty is. When there is time I would sugarcoat [my ideas] but this time around that kind of thing wasn’t needed. Working in a band up to now, sometimes I’d add things to myself that weren’t necessarily there [in me], so returning to myself like this allowed me to be myself.

Has there been an opinion among the members of Buck-Tick that “This Acchan now is very relaxed,” recently? Sakurai: This time, participating in this album, even though third parties could look at me closely, I was never aware of that. Regarding everyday life, I wasn’t thinking stuff like, “Let’s proceed calmly.”

This time there are lyrics coexisting in Japanese, English, and German. Were you worried about the distinction between each word? Sakurai: Frankly, I thought Japanese would be hard to fit in. I sang after Raymond did and there were times when things felt out of place. But if we’d stopped there nothing would have even started. Based on what I'm capable of doing, I thought everything would work out if I let my natural flavor spill freely in Japanese. My own singing, Sascha, Lucia, and Raymond’s vocals too, everyone’s sound would be captured. But it was definitely complicated because Japanese, which comes across direct, appeared suddenly.

What about the parts sung in German and English? Sakurai: Isn’t it brief really? I just did chorus and unison. Initially I didn’t think I’d be doing chorus in English, since there were a lot of people who could be entrusted with it. Symbolically, there were three people who could sing in English.

In Schwein there’s rap-like Japanese, German vocals have entered, that great sense of language is interesting, right? Sakurai: Sascha sang those. Basically, the lyrics he’d written were translated and then fitting lyrics were created [in addition]. I couldn’t get a precise conclusion from the translation, so I asked, “What atmosphere would it be?” and after that I started getting more mental images. That kind of feeling.

I had the conviction to work since “I’ve been given the other members’ compositions”

Isn’t it interesting how Schwein is reaping your style and everything you’ve done with Buck-Tick until now, like with Crown’s equalizing, Spank the Monkey’s part with the stacked double vocals? Sakurai: The engineers were first-timers; I could only give my abilities as a raw ingredient. There was an engineer called Russel [Kearney]; I told him, “Russel, you’re the chef. Handle it as you like[1].” After that we tried out many things, it was fun. There weren’t misses.

I listened to your vocals and there wasn’t anything out of place at all. Sakurai: I wondered if I could deliver in the gaps between the other vocals, but I wasn’t worried at all.

Then, what was your approach with Schwein? Sakurai: I had the conviction to work since “I’ve been given the other members’ compositions,” so there wasn’t any holding back. Raymond and Sascha’s experience and strengths brought out the best in me.

Who created the melody lines? Sakurai: Raymond and Sascha were in charge, Imai’s compositions are his own. With four people the melodies were well considered.

Conversely, how many songs did you devise the melody for?[2] Sakurai: Well, the one where I did things selfishly however I liked was Fantasia. I did the verse my way and the chorus’ melody came to me too… Then, Spank The Monkey’s chorus, Lard, Lips, Liquor’s melody, and for Organzola’s[3] duet part I was free to do whatever I liked.

How is your approach with Schwein different from that with Buck-Tick? Sakurai: Until now, although the composer had created the melody perfectly, this time whether it was the songs or the album as a whole, I couldn't easily imagine. Also, I wondered how far it would be good to go, how far I could go, but there wasn’t hesitation. That’s why, honestly, the feeling of collaborating and being free to do as I pleased with the melodies were first [in importance]. The singing itself was the same as always but regarding feelings I was able to keep the high tension for a month. There were different troubles and, thinking about it deeply, this time it was a fight with myself.

—

Notes:

[1]He called him コック, which means chef (in this case), because he did a pun on cooking in Japanese. I didn’t keep it in English out of fear it would sound unserious (of me). “Cook it up however you like” is what I would’ve gone with and in that case this note would read “Yes, he really said that.” Also...that word's other meaning had me loling hard at that bit at first glance.

[2]Sakurai isn’t credited with any compositions for Schwein. I suppose what they mean here is more along the lines of where his input was heavier.

[3]Re: Organzola as a title word (because idk when I’ll make it there with my speed): later in this interview (under Sascha’s part, which is the fourth and final part), it’s explained it’s a mashup of Organ, the English word + Gorgonzola, the Italian cheese, which apparently equals...g3n1tal organs. ...well, idk about you but I'm glad to learn this so many years later lmao

[adhdbisexualramblings]

I really like your Bill Regressor headcanons! Have you thought about a scenario where you describe the circumstances under which Ford was able to positively make him regress? I'd be curious to hear more about that!

Aaaaa thank you!! I’m glad people enjoyed them!

I have thought of that scenario, actually! And I will now give it to you in story form! It’s long so I’m putting it under the cut.

(The story takes place during The Book of Bill’s “drunk karaoke session” (spoilers by the way), meaning that there will be alcohol use and also regression while drunk (Bill has problems). As stated before, Bill’s regression is not typical. His regression is very subtle. I’m hoping I wrote it adequately. :) )

(I also got WAY too into the pre-regression part so apologies regarding that-)

(A quick note: I am aware the Bill and Ford are not great relationship-wise. This story isn’t saying that they are, only that they had good moments together. I’m writing this as a what-if scenario based on headcanons - do with that what you will.)

Title: What a Night

Another knight hops across the board to tear into a bishop with its newly acquired sharp teeth.

“Bill-!” The laugh in Ford’s voice couldn’t be clearer as the horse-shaped piece happily chews its opponent. “That’s not valid!”

“That’s a regular move in inter-dimensional chess! I think you’re just a sore loser.”

Bill swirls his glass and takes a sip himself before offering it to Ford, who takes it gratefully to drink a larger portion. The glass never empties.

“God, you mix a good drink.” He praises with a content sigh, slumping further into the comfortable velvet seat.

“They don’t call me the “universe’s best bartender” for nothin’, you know!” Bill blinks once and leans across the chessboard, knocking over a few pieces, “Wink!”

Stanford grins. He moves to grab a rook and jerks back when it snaps at his finger. He laughs joyously and retries.

“Well, I was Jersey’s best chess player for nearly a decade straight,” to the kids that would play against him, which weren’t many. Still, Ford boasts, “and I can’t assess your bartender thing - I don’t get out into the inter-dimensional bars too often, but you…your drink was…oh, boy,” he giggles, already feeling tipsy. Bill laughs loudly at that; it echoes through the Mindscape.

After many, many, chess rounds that ended in ties, the two companions are more wasted than ever.

“No, Bill, we’ve played We’ll Meet Again five times already.”

Bill pokes an accusatory finger at Ford, hogging their one microphone.

“Shhhut it, IQ. You - you just have terrible taste. ‘K?”

Ford huffs but lets the karaoke happen. He crosses his arms and waits on their couch while Bill slurs the lyrics, completely unaware of his  own volume level. Still, he seems to be enjoying himself. The music in the Mindscape stops. Bill droops in place as soon as it does, microphone dangling in his loose fingers. Singing his heart out to Vera Lynn each and every time probably wasn’t a great idea.

“…OK, I’m bored. Your turn.”

Ford catches the microphone tossed his way and grins widely. Bill replaces his spot on the couch, wiped out. He sighs deeply and adjusts his hat as Ford decides. All Bill needs is a little more pep, he’s sure of it. Hell, he’ll offer some to Fordsy, too. With a clunky wave of his hand, Bill’s “Myoclonic Jerk” appears in his hand. It wobbles in his lax grip before he grips it with both hands and chugs what would be the whole glass if the drink wasn’t infinite. A fuzzy feeling wraps around Bill instantly, and he’s too distracted to realize it’s more than the buzz of alcohol.

“Hey, Sixer!” He leans forward and holds up the glass double-handed like a trophy. Ford whips around from the handy little song selection screen. His eyes fall on the drink. He stumbles closer to the couch to take it.

“Hey, wo-oah, smaller sips.” Bill advises without much actual danger attached to it, clearly amused. He snaps his fingers, popping the drink out of existence after Ford’s share. Ford blinks at his empty hand in confusion, making Bill laugh again. It’s closer to a giggle this time. Ford gathers himself in time to glance at the selection screen.

“Oh, I picked som-something. C’mere.”

Bill floats up, finds himself unsteady, and conjures his cane to “help” him keep his balance despite the fact that the cane is no help at all. He stumbles some and giggles. Bill twirls the cane poorly, squinting at the screen.

“Disco Girl?”

Ford’s drunkenness doesn’t stop him from being self-conscious, it seems. He chuckles with a hesitant smile.

“It’s admittedly catchy.”

Bill crinkles his eye into a grin, bouncing a little.

“Hey, I’m stellar at keeping secrets, Fordsy!”

The song plays.

Saturday night is a night alright Time to groove till the morning light..

Bill knew of Ford’s guilty pleasure for the pop group, but the way he sang with such carefreeness for the entire three minutes had even the triangle surprised. Ford was similarly surprised and overjoyed when his companion also knew the lyrics.

At some point, Ford gets into the groove of the song and starts dancing along. Bill, also plenty giddy, follows suit.

Ford laughs between lyrics, a grin lighting up his features - the laugh booms around the Mindscape. It’s bright, hearty, and from the belly. Bill takes a moment to address the warm pit that laugh leaves in his body. He grins again and gets closer.

Their dancing stays separate for the most part, until Bill slings a hand around Ford’s shoulder and Ford grazes his hand long enough for Bill to feel it.

Bill freezes at the touch. Ford doesn’t, perfectly content. Slowly, Bill takes his hand away to stare at it with a wide eye. The part where Ford’s warm hand had touched his buzzes softly.

The fuzzy feeling from the alcohol and other factors increases. Bill blinks. An odd feeling wells up the longer he keeps thinking of the touch. He’s thinking so much that he doesn’t notice the song end.

“-Bill?” The voice calls.

The addressed demon blinks again - must’ve spaced out. He keeps his touched hand suspended and looks to Ford. The human stopped dancing a while ago and realized his companion had looked off.

Ford must have gotten concerned, Bill realizes. It makes Bill feel…nice.

He finds he wants something from Stanford. It’s not the portal or eternal servitude; Bill knows that’s not it. It ties to the fuzziness he’s been feeling. He decides to figure it out.

He grins and laughs, not fake in the slightest.

“Hah! Do that again!” Bill thrusts his hand to Stanford, the implication being clear as day in his mind, which is starting to feel even happier.

“…Do what?” Ford asks with an owlish blink. He looks down at Bill’s hand and looks to his own six-fingered one, gears turning. It finally clicks, “Hold your hand?”

Seeing nothing wrong with it and susceptible to suggestions, Ford fulfills the request and bring his hand to clasp it around Bill’s smaller one.

The warmth from Ford travels up Bill’s arm and only adds to the warmth in the rest of his body. Bill blinks silently again. Oh. Wow, that felt…comfortable?

Bill slips.

Without registering what he’s really doing, he leans into Ford and grips one of his fingers with his hand, moving to sit on his shoulder. Ford makes a little noise of confusion, to which Bill only giggles at. In a second, all the alcohol is figuratively flushed out of Bill’s system as his earlier excitement dies. Ford frowns.

“Bill? Are you alright?”

Bill gathers himself with a chuckle, “Pfft. Of course I am, Fordsy.” He lies.

Bill’s getting oddly sleepy. He was used to this tiredness, however; it went hand-in-hand with the fuzzy feeling. He squeezes Ford’s finger tighter, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Y’know what? It’s been a long night,” Bill starts, temping down the slight fog in his mind.

“…Has it?” Ford asks confusedly. Even intoxicated, he notices the behavior switch in his muse.

“O-oh, sure!” Bill finds that he’s unusually tired. It must’ve been the alcohol’s effect. He hopes his stammer isn’t noticeable, “I mean, this stuff’ll give ya a heck of a hangover.” He laughs falsely again, snapping his fingers.

Their couch immediately turns into a simple, cozy-looking, bed. Ford stares at it oddly.

Bill leaves Stanford’s shoulder but doesn’t let go of his hand. It gives him too much comfort.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s get you to bed.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bill physically pulls Ford toward the bed with impatience. Stanford stumbles at the sudden movement but follows anyway out of curiosity. He falls on the sheets, Bill falls after him.

It’s unsurprisingly comfortable. Ford had been low on energy, but hadn’t realized how tired he had truly been until now. Not bothering to take anything off, he sprawls out over the blanket.

Bill, meanwhile, lightly kicks his feet off the edge of the bed, sitting near Ford’s stomach. His feet don’t even reach the bottom. Bill stares at them swinging with attention and an oddly childish look in his eye. He giggles quietly before noticing that Stanford has already lain down.

Bill moves to hold Ford’s hand again and crawls closer to quietly lay next to him. Ford’s coat is made of fabric that Bill just found out is really comfortable. He snuggles closer to his side, making sure that the human’s sleep in the Mindscape won’t take him back to the waking world before Bill wants him to. He’ll let Fordsy wake up when he’s sober again. That sounded much better.

Ford doesn’t let go of Bill’s tiny hand - maybe he’s too tired to notice. Bill sighs quietly and flutters his eye closed.

In one movement, the karaoke in the Mindscape starts playing a slow lullaby on low volume and the blankets suddenly cover both Ford and Bill comfortably.

Bill turns his eye into a mouth and shoves his thumb inside, sucking on it soothingly. He squeezes a sleeping Ford’s finger tighter as he himself dozes off.

[tea-plantz]

Hello! I absolutely LOVED your yandere!Bill Cipher x reader headcanons! Can I please get a part two where the reader loves Bill back? I’m a huge simp for the Dorito man 💛💛

Si mi amigo, I can of course write that for you, love! I swear, I’ve gotten sooo many Bill Cipher request lately, so I just had to do some more Bill content!

Also, like mentioned in the request, this is sort of a part 2 to my other Bill hcs, so I would recommend reading that one first!

He/him for Bill

They/them for the reader

<Yandere! Bill Cipher x reader HCS, where reader loves him back>

The dream demon had kept you with him for quite some time now, always staying by your side. Now, you might have heard of something called Stockholm syndrome, which is basically when a victim starts forming and emotional bond, and starts feeling sympathy for their kidnapper. You can probably guess where I’m going with this.

You were well aware of the fact that Bill had abducted you, taken you away from everything you loved, but for some odd reason, you started… viewing him differently. The more time you spent with the triangle, the more you actually started caring for him, and in time, full on loving him.

When you first told Bill you loved him, he didn’t believe you. Of course he had told you that himself multiple times, and made you say it back, but you always sounded nervous when you did. Moreover, you’ve never voluntarily gone up to him and just blurted it out yourself so casually, without him demanding it. Naturally, he was suspicious. Was this an attempt to gain his trust to escape? Or perhaps you were just toying with him?

When Bill finally realized that you were genuine with your little love confession, he was absolutely over the moon! Bro was flabbergasted.

The person he loved and adored oh so much finally loved him back! And he didn’t even have to force you in any way! (At least not too much) Oh what a joyful discovery! He was so happy, floating around while giggling like a little girl.

——————————————————————————

After that, the dream demon showed you hella lot affection, we’re talking hugs, kisses, picking you up, petnames all day, playing with your hair, cuddles, constantly complimenting you, all that stuff. It was a lot easier too, since you didn’t push him away or act scared anymore, which just made him more enthusiastic. Thing is, in the start Bill loved your fear, but it got boring quickly. What he truly longed for was your heart (not literally), so when he finally got it, he was overjoyed!

When you suddenly returned the affection one time, he almost passed out. “Hey Bill, how’s it going honey?” “H-h-honey?!” *Bill.exe has stopped working*

You would expect someone to get less angsty and possessive once they got confirmed that the person that they care about shares the same feelings, however, this was NOT the case with Bill, per say. He got even more over protective than ever, if that was even humanly possible, craving to be by your side at all times, day and night.

The fact that you love him would definitely boost his already big ego A LOT! This man would feel like the most important person in the whole wide universe, including you of course~ He would also brag about his awesome and beautiful s/o all the time.

In my previous headcanons, I mentioned that Bill would play the piano for you. Well, now that he doesn’t need to force you to sit still, he would most certainly do music duets with you! Preferably with love songs. The demon finds them so enjoyable, plus you’re angelic voice drives him absolutely crazy! He craves to hear it at least once a day, and you can’t really say no to him, whatsoever.

——————————————————————————

Bill did ease off of the punishments, mostly because he didn’t really need to punish you anymore. Since your little escape attempts had finally come to an end, and you didn’t really cause that much trouble for him anymore, Bill felt no need to lash out at you. However, if you did do something he didn’t particularly like, he would still punish you, just less intense then the methods he used before.

The Dorito man would probably also get fewer anger tantrums. Don’t get me wrong, he still gets pissed of if you or somebody else rubs him the wrong way, but it’s a lot less intense then what it used to be.

He shows you off a lot to every single one of his henchmen, ALL THE TIME. Bill takes great pride in you, y’know?

Now that you have finally given in and stopped being so stubborn, you and Bill are able to rule together as king and queen/king/ruler of the universe for all eternity, at last. When the dream demon and his crew finally conquered Gravity Falls, he kept you proudly by his side, while showing of his powers to you *wink wink*. Bill even made you your own throne! And even though you hesitated a bit to actually sit in it (since y’know, it’s made out of actual people), he stared you down until you finally gave in. All with love of course! Bill really couldn’t wish for more, everything was just perfect! His dream finally came true, and better yet, it came true with you ruling beside him, just like he’s always daydreamt about!

Bill is definitely never EVER letting you go. If you thought he was a lovesick psycho before, he’s a literal monster now. All the affection that you provided him of, really made him lose it, and now he craves you more than ever. This triangle is going to keep you with him til the end of time, and there’s nothing you can say or do to get away. Not that you would really want to though, since Bill has finally managed to sneak his way into your heart! Forever…

[9w1ft]

Interested to hear your interpretation on Suburban Legends

first off the song and beat sounds so similar to mastermind and gold rush. particularly mastermind. listen to the opening seconds back to back! she sings through a lot of it similarly in my opinion

and it has some of the similar mechanics of mastermind in that it leads you to believe the song is going one way but then pulls a switcheroo on you at the end and the swell in the music aids that at the end which makes it a really sweet and emotional listening experience. i’ll get to that in a second.

i think at the beginning of taylor knowing or being aware of karlie (so like, your kitchen or mine times), this was very much the situation. karlie is in her peripheral vision (on her radar) but just as taylor described in gold rush, karlie seemed like something utterly unattainable. in lover as well we get the line “i’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you” and i think this fits with this description of karlie.

i didn’t come here to make friends echoes their entire conceit of mastermind, and a lot of the kaylor discography that uses the word ‘friend’ — another way to say “i don’t want you like a best friend” etc

also this is a sort of throwaway point but “i didn’t come here to make friends” was a 2000’s reality tv phrase that came into popularity via the show America’s Next Top Model. it was iconic and soon every competitive reality tv show under the sun had contestants saying it.. but it’s origins are from a show about models! of which karlie is one.

more importantly, the “you kiss me in a way that’s gonna screw me up forever” is like the follow up to the gold rush “eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting i almost jump in” language. it’s cruel summer’s “snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate” because falling in love with karlie lead to taylor wanting her complications too

mismatched star signs works because fire signs traditionally match best with air signs. also visually, stars mismatched fits in with mastermind’s “the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned” — things that weren’t in alignment coming into alignment.

there’s a bunch of story page chapter stuff throughout taylor’s discography, some of which makes its way into kaylor but i’d probably write for way too long so i’m just gonna skip over that for now

this part might be a bit tricky but i sort of blame it on many kaylors not talking that much about really early kaylor possibilities out of (a sort of unearned) respect and the one way street principle of staying in our lane but the idea of taylor saying “i know that when you told me we’d get back together and kissed me that you remember[ed] we were born to be national treasures” isn’t that too wild of a statement if you imagine them as maybe briefly connecting or talking at some point before taylor made her plans to make karlie hers. indeed, we know their paths crossed several times before they were first connected at the 2013 vs fashion show.

*for posterity, i included the apple music lyrics as the genius lyrics appear to be worded partially incorrectly

this is the part of the song which i just think is so beautifully done. in particular i love the “you don’t knock anymore” of it all

at first it sounds like she’s saying karlie doesn’t knock anymore because she come around anymore, or this idea of there having been a breakup or a period of not being together or something sad, which is matched by the tone of how she sings it for the first time. the waves crashing to the shore feels like a storm.

but at the end of the repetition her voice becomes more upbeat and it dawns on you, you’re like, oh wait karlie doesn’t knock anymore because she doesn’t need to knock anymore, she has a key! (“is that your key in the door?” anyone?)

and suddenly the waves meeting the shore is a pleasant image of unification and happiness. she closes with the thought “you don’t knock anymore and i always knew it” which makes it feel a bit more like mastermind’s “you knew the entire time, and now you’re mine” — always knowing they would get together, taylor always knowing karlie was the one. “and my life had been ruined” is sung in a sort of sweet resignation, one that i find throughout a lot of kaylor music, the idea that she knows its complicated but that its what she chose.

so yeah! that’s why suburban legends is a kaylor song to me 😌

[subskz]

i am deeply disappointed in skz

i have so many thoughts that i’ve been trying to put into words but to be quite honest they’re all meaningless anyway when there are much more important things to focus on right now. what i will say is this—one of the biggest things that made me fall in love with skz beyond their artistry and their direct involvement in everything they create, was their integrity. their ability to acknowledge their faults, to apologize to the ones they hurt, and always strive to be better people than they were yesterday, even within the resitrictions of the kpop industry. i have rarely found myself questioning whether or not their hearts are in the right place. but for them to be associated with zionist after zionist now of all times, when the genocide of palestinians is worse than it’s ever been for 7 months straight and more well-documented than it’s ever been in history, is something i can’t look past

i never have and never will shape my beliefs around celebrities, and i will never rely on an idol to serve as my moral compass, but i don’t think it’s so crazy to have expected better from skz. i’m well aware that a lot of this is out of their control, but if jype continues to make decisions like this, at what point does working with zionists in the midst of one of the most horrific tragedies our world has ever seen become the norm for skz? at what point do i stop looking away from it and wait for it to pass, only for it to happen again and again in the future? even if this goes against skz’s beliefs, which i hope with all my heart it does, i can’t in my right mind continue to support them when their projects uplift, praise, or have any connection to zionists. i can’t in my right mind continue to support them when they’re smiling in a photo next to a man who said he would make the most out of serving in the iof artillery. there are no words to describe the feeling of seeing them happily posing for pictures with zionists as gaza is being bombed in real time and over one million palestinians are being forced to evacuate rafah on foot as israel launches attacks on a supposed “safe place”

after 5 years of loving and supporting skz, i have to draw the line. so i will be stepping away from them for a while, which includes putting all writing for them on hold. if something about this bleak situation changes, if they say something like they have in the past, i may consider supporting them again. i want to believe in skz more than anything, but all the details surrounding this godforsaken song have just gotten worse and worse, and if this passes without them ever acknowledging it, i honestly don’t know if i can see them the same way again

either way, this isn’t about me or skz or kpop. more importantly than my feelings of disappointment, i’m going to continue pouring all of my energy into supporting the people who truly need and deserve it; palestinians. i urge you all to never stop standing up for palestine. to give up on them would be to give up on our very humanity. i will do everything i can until the very end, i hope you guys will too

[stjohnstarling]

Hello! Love 'What Manner of Man'! It inspired me to make my own vintage gay story myself!

But I'm having an issue with outlining, since outlining a novel feels more close-ended than a longer-form serial novel is.

Do you have any advice? Or resources, etc?

So you have no way of knowing this, but I am actually obsessed with story structure. It’s maybe the part of storytelling I’ve spent the most time consciously working with, so sorry in advance because I’m about to go on a dubiously helpful monologue. It’s a bit tricky for me to answer about resources, since the things I used when I was learning have been lost to the sands of time. That being said I have a couple pieces of advice:

If you don’t know what you’re doing, don’t be afraid to find a template. I wish I could link you a good one but I don’t have any on hand. When I was first learning to write novels, I actually found a few different standard novel structure templates and used them to outline a bunch of novels I never intended to write, as practice. Bad and silly ones that were just fun to play with, where there was no pressure to write anything I’d ever want anyone to see. My background is in music, so my instinct when I don’t know how to do something is to isolate that element and practice it on its own, and it’s never steered me wrong.*

But more than that - what you’re feeling as closed-ended is that you’re trying to write a story with structure, as opposed to one that is mostly improvised. I remember feeling this too, when I first started exploring writing novels, but this is one of those cases where limitations are actually what gives you freedom.

Structure is part of the artistry of storytelling - just like poetry has forms like sonnets and sestinas, and songs have verses, bridges, and choruses. You know intuitively the structure of a pop song, and that heightens the pleasure of listening to one as you anticipate the build up to the chorus. Stories are like this too. The structure is an important part of the audience’s enjoyment of the final piece, whether they know it or not.

I’ll give an example. Season one of AMC’s The Terror is a piece of fiction that is structured with some serious artistry, above and beyond just good craftsmanship, its structure is a crucial part of how it creates meaning. As a result a lot of what its fans do is analyze it for parallels in its storytelling. I don’t think many of them would articulate what they enjoy about it as “this is a well structured story,” but the structure is actually one of the main things the fandom engages with.

More than any writing resource, the best way to learn is to study and analyze stories you admire - why things are put in a certain order and why events fall at the points in the story that they do. When are you anticipating, when are you experiencing catharsis, where in the story do those things happen? Explore widely! You don’t have to limit yourself to novels! Movies are great for getting a basic understanding of how you can structure a story because the time and space requirements they’re subject to mean movies tend to be very rigidly structured. There’s no time to mess around like there is in long forms of fiction like novels.

I encourage you to embrace structure as a part of the art and a potential tool for expression and beauty! I can’t tell you how rewarding it is.

*I am aware that this advice does not work for a lot of people, so if it doesn’t work for you that is also perfectly fine! Everyone is different.

[enkas-illusion]

Games at the Fair

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Fluff – nonetheless, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 

Theme: Friends to lovers (more like situationship to relationship I guess??) ; non-sorcerer au

Content warning: fluff, jealous Nanami, flirty stranger Choso x reader, suggestive, mentions of smut

Summary:

You've been conflicted over your situationship with Nanami Kento ever since the two of you shared a moment two weeks ago. The elephant in the room has been left unaddressed so meeting your crush/friend for the first time in two weeks makes you feel some type of way. The stars align when a hot stranger named Choso tries to woo you at the fair, you decide to indulge in his advances a bit to force a reaction out of Kento instead of talking to him like a sensible adult.

Author's Note: Hello, this is my first attempt at writing a one-shot. Borderline giggling-in-your-bed, kicking-your-feet type fluff but love is cringe so it is what it is. All characters are in their 20s. If you enjoy it, feel free to like, reblog or comment. Open to criticism, just be kind about it. Thank you for reading! 

-Eren’s Birdie

Song dedication: Yes or No by Jungkook / Love Talk (English Ver.) by WayV

Your eyes wander to the cafe door once again when you hear it open. You think you're being sneaky with it but your desperation did not go unnoticed by a certain loudmouth.

"He'll be here, chill already! Kento is a man of his word," Gojo teases, making the rest of the group giggle.

"Yeah well... okay whatever." You reply curtly. Your gaze moves up from your coffee to look at your friends, only to find Satoru, Suguru and Shoko all looking at you intently.

"We were pretty drunk that night but not so wasted that we’d forget everything. We saw you two leave the club together and you're kinda painfully obvious about your infatuation... So what's up with you two?" Suguru inquires calmly.

Geto often swears he couldn't care less about gossip but he's annoyingly attentive when it comes to catching hints and linking pieces together when there's any sort of drama encroaching. 

You consider rolling your eyes but for some reason you feel like a criminal caught in an act... there's only so much one can evade before they gotta surrender. So you give in and lean forward towards the table but not before glancing at the door. Only this time, it's to make sure Nanami isn't the one walking in.

"Well, that night, if you guys remember, Kento was the only one who had decided to stay sober since he assigned himself as the driver-" You began, only to be interrupted by Gojo.

"Yeah and for what?! He booked an uber for the rest of us anyway when he left alone with you." Shoko smacks him on the head as if to shut him up. You side-eye him as you continue your story.

"Anyway... so, having had one too many shots, I was right up there with you guys. But when I started feeling a bit uneasy, Kento offered to drop me home and come back again." You realise you're fidgeting with the sugar packet on the table nervously but you stop the action as you look up to see all three of your friends leaning in, waiting for you to continue. It almost makes you laugh but you hold back because you know the odds aren't particularly in your favour with this story, and you’d hate to be teased for it by them later tonight.

"And then he drove me to my place. I invited him up for a cup of coffee-"

"At like 2 in the morning?" It's Suguru this time.

"It was the alcohol talking, okay?" You sigh and he simply shrugs, urging you to continue.

"We did end up having some coffee and we talked till like 4am? I’m not actually sure but it was late late. By that time, I was neither buzzed, nor uneasy. I was well aware of everything that was happening... and it just so happened that we kinda kissed and then he blurted out some excuse and left." You mumble towards the end of the sentence; so much so that if your friends weren't as invested in this story, they would've probably missed what you'd just said.

"HOLD ON- what do you mean kinda kissed and left?" Satoru almost yells. "Please elaborate." Suguru adds.

"Well, it just happened, okay? I don't know how to explain it, one minute we were talking and the next minute he held my face and pulled me in to kiss me so sensually, yet so softly that I honestly don't know what to make of it! But when things got heated, he excused himself cause he didn't think it was right to take advantage of me when I was drunk. I tried telling him I wasn't but he just left. He said he'd talk to me later but he has texted me about everything BUT the incident as if it never happened and do you know how annoying it is cause it's been TWO WHOLE WEEKS!" You sigh, out of breath, only now realising you could probably give Eminem a run for his money with how quickly you blurted everything out.

"Jeezzzz... that's bad. How can Ken fumble so badly?" Gojo laughs in disbelief. 

Shoko adds, "He clearly likes you, and it's obvious you like him too - yet both of y'all are pussies who are too scared to do anything about it. It's the most frustrating trope of all romances if you ask me."

"Well, what do you want me to do? He has to be the one to initiate it. He's the one who left me hanging." You state, matter-of-factly.

"Whatever it is, figure it out asap cause here comes your man." Satoru gives you a sly smile before waving and smiling at the door. You turn to look at Kento walking in. He's wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up halfway and you mentally slap yourself for instantly feeling aroused at the sight.

"Hi," his voice breaks your trance as you greet him back along with everyone else. "Sorry for being late, I had to wrap up some things last minute at work." He adds. Maybe you're being delusional but it sort of feels like he's directed it specifically to you.

"No worries Kennyyy, we've got our tickets right here, we can walk right in front of the line at each ride." Gojo waves the tickets proudly as Kento makes a less than pleasant face at his friend's stupid nickname.

"Thank you Satoru, what would I possibly do without you." Kento says it with a straight face, making you snort quietly. Your eyes meet for a split second when he looks at you and suddenly you're reminded of how nervous you're supposed to be around him.

"Let's get going? Would still hate a big crowd even if we had the premium passes." Suguru interjects as you all pay and leave.

You hand Kento a Matcha-flavoured cold coffee. Although it's common knowledge that it's his go-to drink of choice, he raises an eyebrow in surprise while accepting it. "Thank you." He gives you a quick smile as he walks out the coffee shop, next to you.

But wait a minute... Your brain goes into overthinking mode as you realise you seem too pliant. Bringing him his favourite drink, making those eyes at him, laughing at his jokes, seemingly ignoring the elephant in the room for his convenience.

And before you could rationalise with your own self, you clarify, "We knew the guys would want to rush to the fair as soon as you arrive so Shoko thought it'd be a good idea to order yours beforehand." 

Lies. Pure bullshit. But two can play this game so that’s exactly what you were planning to do.  

The carnival was a short walk away and Gojo generously allows everyone about 20 minutes to do their own thing before calling them to where the roller coaster is.

Suguru and Satoru had split from the rest to check out the Mirror house and Horror house. You lock arms with Shoko as the two of you seemingly share a single brain cell when you rush towards the candy stall. This stall in particular had been on your list ever since Shoko had heard that they had candy in every flavour imaginable. Nanami tags alongside with his hands in his pocket, comfortable with being left out. 

"Let's get the basics out of the way. The sweetest, tooth decaying batch for Satoru?" You wonder out loud.

"And half sour, half spicy for Suguru?" Shoko adds and the person attending to you suggests a few options. While you're busy choosing for the boys, you hear Nanami speak for the first time in what feels like forever. "What are you planning to pick for me?" 

"Kento you're never really picky about food so I don't really know what you enjoy… I'm the wrong person to ask…" Shoko says awkwardly. She was trying to give you an opening. He looks at you to check if you caught onto the fact that the question wasn't for her to begin with. 

"Hmm… since you're here, it'd be best that you pick whatever you like." You give him a half-forced smile.

He looks like he’s about to retaliate but his mouth closes as soon as it opens and it has you wondering what he’s fighting his own mind over so hard. Was it really that conflicting to decide whether he liked you or not? You push the unnecessary thought to the back of your head, not really wanting to dive deep into the feelings department at that moment.

Instead he turns around and picks a mixed bag of chocolates that ranges from pure milk to 99% cocoa. You would've picked the same for him and it kind of makes you happy that you know him so well. Maybe you were being a bit mean now, but nevermind - this is the plan, to rile him up so much that he has no option but to realise that some issues need addressing. 

Once you pay for the candies, you buy a few more snacks from other stalls before you see Gojo's texts on the group chat, calling everyone to where the roller coaster is.

Like Gojo had said before, the premium ticket really does push you to the top of the line. You barely have to wait for a few moments for them to do the basic machinery check before the group of 12 people that you're a part of is let in.

As if following an unspoken agreement, Shoko and Suguru sit together at the front but Satoru is too much of a dumbass to get the memo. As soon as Kento sits on one of the seats, Satoru climbs in next to him. You quickly sit behind Kento to avoid further embarrassment. 

Shoko turns around and her face almost looks murderous when she stares at Gojo. He only shrugs back at her. Seriously, how can someone be so smart yet so oblivious and clueless when it actually counts???

You're too busy to notice the person next to you. But you turn your head when you see their seatbelt being secured in place along with yours.

"Well if it isn't my lucky day," the guy says as he looks at you, "... sitting on a roller coaster next to a pretty lady."

You're amused by the compliment. You know this all too well — the easy to flirt, charming, hot guy who knows exactly what to say to get the girls swooning. The tattooed sleeve and dishevelled hair only feed into the fuckboy image and you know better than to be serious so you decide to humour him.

"And why might sitting next to pretty ladies be of any consolation? Don't tell me you're scared of a carnival ride." You feign shock.

"Nah, it's a relief. We get the hand holding part out of the way, and when this is done, we can move onto better rides." He winks at you.

"And who says I'm holding your hand?" You raise an eyebrow at him.

"And why wouldn't you want to?" He challenges you, copying your tone. He makes a waving motion over his face and body as if to present himself to you. It kinda makes you laugh as you visibly cringe.

"Alright, fine! We can go the usual route of dinner and a movie first!" He adds.

"My god, you're relentless!" You're fully laughing at how unserious this strange man is.

"Actually people usually call me Choso but I think I can get used to Relentless." He puts his hand out and you shake it briefly. 

"Hi Relentless, I'm y/n," you reply, smiling.

"A pretty name for a pretty lady," he says, repeating your name. You hear the first signal that secures the seatbelts in place. Choso puts his hand out and you look at him.

Your eyes briefly wander to the front to check if the stranger's words had any effect on Nanami. Even if it did, you're disappointed to see that he wasn't showing it at all.

"I don't remember saying yes?" You question playfully.

"Will it improve my chances if I say that I'm terrified of roller coasters?" He retorts.

"Are you? For real?" You ask, surprised.

"Nope." He snorts, still holding his hand open invitingly. You laugh before swatting his hand away.

"I don't hold hands till the 10th date!" You joke as another signal blares and the roller coaster slowly begins moving towards the drop.

"So does that mean I can hold your hand after 9 more dates?" He teases.

"Guess you'll never know unless you try." You tease him back.

Just before the dip, you swear you saw Kento look back to give Choso a quick stare down, but before your brain could note it for later analysis, the adrenaline overtook as soon as the ride commenced.

When it ends, you quickly say your goodbyes to Choso before you regroup with your friends. You'd stay here all night if you were to decipher each of your friends' emotions but more or less everyone made a what was that!? face, except for Kento. His face had pure annoyance written over it. You were almost surprised by how obvious his usually unreadable face was.

You change the subject to talk about random shit as you walk towards the games section. When the rest of the group starts chattering about whatever, Nanami pulls at your arm to slow your pace to let the group walk ahead. You slow down as you fall behind and he finally speaks up.

"Care to explain?" His voice is calm but laced with irritation.

"Explain what?" You frown.

"I thought we..." he trails off, as if he's unsure about the right words to use. You decide you’ve had enough of him wanting to say something yet saying nothing at all. So you decide to do it for him.

"Yes, I also thought we had something going on but it's okay, you take your time, ignore me for 2 more weeks if it suits you and run away again the next time something happens." You say, mostly calm but almost not. It's only now that you were letting your annoyance take control because you were upset. Clearly. The last two weeks had been awful, mentally playing a game of ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ each time he texted you.

Kento's eyes soften as he runs his hand through his hair, "I'm sorry, I should've reached out. I got busy with work after the weekend and later I figured I could just talk to you face-to-face when we met today." 

Excuses. Not good enough.

"You had plenty of chances to do just that in the last hour or so. I like you Kento... I don't know how many more hints you want. But I'm kinda disappointed..." you look at him. 

Nope this is enough, best not to take shit any further, you decide. But that's the problem with confronting someone, you always test the limits of how much you can poke a person till they burst, "I hate indecisiveness. At least Choso knows for sure what he wants and makes his move on time." 

The puppy eyes he was looking at you with up until a second ago fade away and his jaw tightens as he gulps whatever words he had on the tip of his tongue. Speaking of the devil, as if on cue, you see Choso near the games section, only to find him already looking at you.

"Date 2?" Choso grins at you, "Tell me sweetheart, do you like stuffed toys?" You nod.

You can sense the tension as Choso ignores Kento who’s standing right next to you the whole time. You walk further away from both the men, suddenly finding the display of the soft toys a bit too interesting. Shoko is looking at the stacked toy pyramid and you ask her what prize is for what game.

"The dolphins and elephants at the bottom are for whack-a-mole," she says, pointing at Satoru who's frantically trying to win it.

"The random tier above it, ugliest by the way, is for the ring hoop thingy," she points at Suguru trying his hand at the game.

"And the top tier with the fluffy teddy bears is for Target shooting," she points at the stall where you were just a minute ago. You turn to look at Choso and Kento both picking up rifles to begin shooting their respective targets.

No matter how annoyed you may be at him, you can never ignore just how beautiful the man is. His forearms look delicious as he adjusts the rifle to his shoulder. You peel your eyes away from Kento’s veiny arms with much difficulty and focus your eyes on the target.

Each person gets five shots. Five clean shots to win the teddy bear. And both the guys take their aims in tandem. It almost feels like watching two teams take penalties during a FIFA world cup finale, not knowing who's gonna win. 

You know Kento is competitive but he's always a good sport even when he loses a card or board game to you. Once again you’re surprised to see him groan out loud in frustration when he misses the last shot, whereas Choso gets a perfect score, winning the teddy bear.

Choso brings the big teddy and hands it to you, "Let's exchange gifts? My teddy for your number?" You smile at the soft toy in your hands. Before you have a chance to respond, you hear Kento’s stern voice coming from behind Choso.

"No. There’s no way in hell I’m gonna let that happen." he declares. Hell of an awkward situation to be in as Choso, you and Shoko all stare at Kento, who looks visibly angry.

Kento points at the Panda at the very top, the biggest prize of them all, "What the hell is that one for?"

"Oh... No one tries that ‘cause it's the hardest, Beat the bar challenge. You gotta hang onto the pull up bar for 3 whole minutes so it's basically an impossible prize." Shoko explains.

"Okay." Is all Kento says in return as he walks towards the man in charge of the bar challenge game. He gives the man a token and pulls up his sleeves even further as he grabs the bar.

You stare in disbelief as the countdown lights up on an LED display next to the bar as he hangs to it. It has you baffled that Nanami is doing this out of pure spite and jealousy but you'd be lying if you said you weren't turned on by the change in his demeanour, seeing him all worked up like this.

As he passes the two minute mark, without any sign of struggle, a sizable crowd gathers there to see if he really takes the panda home. Towards the end, Gojo and Geto start the 15 seconds countdown, hollering and hooting to cheer at their friend.

When Nanami's eyes meet yours, his cocky smile only grows when he sees you cheer on him as well. The tiny crowd roars when the 3 minute mark is crossed.

He half-yells a, "Just to be sure" as he does a muscle up with ease before jumping down from the bar. You're impressed but you still mouth a ‘show off’ as you roll your eyes at him jokingly. He walks towards you with the prize panda in hand. 

The panda is about three feet tall and extremely fluffy — no wonder it was the top prize.

Kento, not so politely, pulls away the bear Choso had won for you and instead holds his panda out in front of you. He looks to the side to find the other man and with a smug smile tosses the bear back at Choso, who catches it with quick reflex.

You're still processing the whole thing because you kinda want to memorise every moment - this is so out of character for the stoic man you've always had a crush on. You've liked him for how calm and composed he is but seeing him like this has almost multiplied your attraction to him tenfold. Guess you pressed all the right buttons.

He pulls you out of your reverie as he says, "Is this decisive enough for you?"

And before you can answer, he pulls at your waist with his free hand till you're flush against his chest.

His head leans down to your level as he kisses you more passionately than he did the first time at your place and you can't help but feel weak in your knees. You feel as if your brain is going to short-circuit any minute now but you kiss him back, relishing every moment of it before he pulls back.

"I'm going to assume that's a yes." You can't help but blush as you look down to avoid his eye contact. How can you possibly stay mad when he has so clearly declared his intentions with you in front of everyone. 

"Satoru, I take it you have your car this time. I’m gonna ask for a raincheck on drinks night." Nanami says to his friend. You feel dazed as you simply look at your three friends with equal amounts of embarrassment, shock and excitement.

Reading between the lines isn't hard. Kento might as well have said 'I'm going to fuck her and I cannot wait one moment for it' cause that's what his words seemed to imply.

“Why am I even surprised?" Gojo sighs.

Shoko punches his arm, "I'm pretty sure they couldn't care less about those drinks."

"Righttt," Satoru grins at you and says, "Have fun! Kenny has a really big penny. Saw it in the gym locker room once."

"SATORU!", you scold him.

"Hey dumbass, maintain some decorum." Suguru cringes.

"It's okay, she's about to find out anyway." Kento says coolly as he intertwines his fingers with yours and starts marching towards the gates.

You stare back to see you can't find Choso anywhere. Makes sense, you note to yourself. Then your eyes land on your friends and you grin with all your teeth. You turn your head to the front again as you look up at your man.

Up close, you notice the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead from all the exertion at the pull up bar. Holy shit, you wonder, everything about this night couldn't have gone any better... but you have a hunch, he's about to prove you wrong all night long.

[ishipmutualrespect]

“I’m well aware I write too many songs about you”

THIS

This moment right here 😭