#also a lot of you who have a lot of shit to say about the legend of korra

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotoge you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey/highkey Yandere Sukuna behavior, lots of drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club lowkey a front lol) hints of Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, blow jobs, cunnilingus, fingering, masturbation, teasing and eventually violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- Oral (M recieving) cum swallowing, dirty talk, drug use and masturbation- WC-6k

Based on Stripclub Owner Sukuna - IDK how many parts this will be, thinking four to six? That mobster art in the banner is by Sketch B on X- CHECK it- LINK

Playlist - Part Two>>>(soon)

Part One

“There you go, baby.” Toji murmurs to one of the pretty strippers, who is sitting right on his lap as he laps up salt off her breasts with his tongue, before taking the tequila shot she holds between them and downing it.

“Mr. Sukuna, are you ready?” Another dancer asks him, sitting on his lap, he proceeds to the same thing, licking her skin, moaning as he does, the tequila burning down his throat as he gulps, feeling it burn a trail down, he hisses at it, smacking the stripper’s ass when Toji lights up a blunt.

“Got a new girl comin’ in, Sukuna.” Toji mutters, inhaling and exhaling the puff of smoke, Sukuna takes the thick blunt and inhales the smoke into his lungs, feeling the effects of the alcohol and weed mingling as he watches the cloud of smoke release from his lips.

“Our best girl just left, I hope she’s good.” He hands the blunt back to Toji, who leans forward just a bit, blowing his smoke right into one of the girl’s mouths, she coughs and Toji snorts in laughter.

“She’s gonna make bank, plus she’s a friend of a friend, m’tryna help her out some.”

Sukuna bursts out in laughter then, throwing his head back. “You’re tryna help her out? With what, your dick?”

Toji scowls, lips set in a firm line. “Think I don’t help out friends, shithead?”

“Shithead?” Sukuna stands now, fists clenched. “The fuck you say, Zenin?”

“Ya heard me.” He grins as he stands too, the girls ooh and ahh at the two huge men clenching their fists.

“Wanna get some more scars on that mug of yours?”

“Ya act like you’re getting a hit in-”

“Is that the new girl!?” One of the strippers whispers, but loud enough for Toji to turn and grin.

“Lemme get her prepped.” Sukuna rolls his ruby eyes, ‘prepped’ sure, but he can’t help but be intrigued when Toji is so eager to go to her. He shrugs, however, he has a business meeting to get going with Gojo in about an hour, he has many, many profitable businesses that the government surely doesn’t know about.

Sukuna runs many, many things, up to and including running coke, and Gojo is a big player in that, the strip club although profitable is a bit of a cover for it, the girls all make extra bank to sell packs of it with each lap dance. And Sukuna and Toji, although they sometimes like to just beat each other up for fun, are actually decent partners at it.

“Candy, get the good shit for the meeting, hmm?” He says to her then, she nods eagerly, bending down to kiss Sukuna on the cheek.

“Of course Mr. Sukuna!” She runs off, in nothing but a thong, her ass jiggling nicely. Sukuna has to admit, life is pretty good for him.

Something feels empty, but nothing women, coke, weed and liquor can’t fill, along with beating up assholes here and there. No need for bouncers with Sukuna and Toji, though they had security but it was more for themselves, and rivaling members that loved to come try to fuck with their game or get a piece of it, but they were realizing something.

Sukuna is the King of this city.

He thinks he has this all figured out too, he has anything and everything he wants, filthy rich in fact now, and people fear him, or want to be with him, and that’s what he’s worked towards. As Candy gets back with the finest cocaine, he takes a line right off her inner thigh as she holds one up for him, her platform heel propped on his knee.

He chuckles as it hits him, and he can feel her heat, Candy is his favorite, but then he pauses, blinking as if he’s having some stupid insane vision when he sees the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Something about the girl in the silver bikini makes him crave her like a drug, like anything he can fucking imagine, to the point his mouth drops open and he shoves Candy aside.

Just who is this girl?

Sukuna needs her, and needs her now.

He needs you.

You’re standing there, as Toji has you by an arm, shivering just a bit in your silver outfit, one he had borrowed from one of the girls so you could dance tonight. The lighting is low and seductive in the club, the music reverberating off the walls, a kaleidoscope of crimson, emerald and sapphire that bounces off the dark, polished wood of the floor.

There are rooms with red velvet drapes, and a mix of modern furniture and items that look vintage, including the red sofa with one of the just… largest men you have ever seen? Toji was already a huge guy, this man, his long lanky thighs, his broad shoulders, he takes over the entire room, and when he stands, staring at you with ruby eyes, it’s intimidating.

Toji you’ve known for some time, but even he couldn’t really compare to this man, towering over everyone in the room, shocking pink hair and tattoos all across his neck, a fancy three piece business suit but no tie, just an unbuttoned black dress shirt. You notice lipstick mouth prints down his neck, notice girls all over him before he literally shoves them out of the way to just stare.

You panic then, you are a mom, you have a couple stretch marks and maybe wider hips than before when you danced, but you think the outfit is flattering enough!? Toji told you you didn’t even need to cover up, his dark green eyes had devoured your body hungrily with a ‘ya look fuckin’ fine, doll’ so you at that point felt okay stepping out in this.

But the way this man - Toji said his name is Sukuna - is staring you’re unsure if he hates you on sight or something is just bothering him!? You stand there, nervously, knowing he’s an owner too, and wanting to make a good impression. “Hello… Mr. Sukuna, right?” You tell him your name softly, and he steps a little closer, your head falls back to look up at him.

“She’s the new girl?” He asks Toji, his voice deep and husky.

“Mmhmm, she’s a little rusty at dancing but she’ll catch on quick, won’t ya doll?” Toji slings an arm around your shoulder.

“Yes, I can pick it back up, I promise.” You say eagerly, Sukuna’s ruby eyes narrow, you inhale the scent of cannabis mixing with… a cologne or scent Sukuna has, so woodsy and musky it damn near lures you in, then Sukuna steps impossibly closer, eyes slowly draping down your body.

“I’ll see what you can do.” He smirks at you, trying to feign ease, as if he doesn’t wanna drag you in his office and fuck you right on that desk then and there, you look down shyly when he brushes your hair back, watching how the lights hit your pretty face. “Gonna show me?”

“Y-yes, of course. Can I just… practice a little?”

“Mmhmm.” He says, stepping back now casually, sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, you can see how the material of his slacks stretches over his thick, muscled thighs. He looks at you under his lashes, taking a glass of whiskey and sipping on it.

“It’s um… nice to meet you.” You say softly, as he struggles not to openly stare, hiding the swirling storm inside his gut, as he eyes your body, your every curve, how your tits sway, how you turn, how you move.

Sukuna says nothing, and Toji’s rough palm touches your waist. “You’ll do good, just go watch a couple of the girls for a few.”

“Thank you, Toji.” You say with a smile, and then Toji watches the pure thirst written all over Sukuna’s face, chuckling.

“You got the hots for her, huh?” Sukuna scowls at Toji as he sits back down, eyeing one of the bags of coke and taking a little bit of it up his nose, sighing.

“Who is she?” Sukuna asks gruffly, eyes the sway of your hips and how your body moves when you slowly circle the pole with the girls.

“She’s a family friend, got a kid and shit. Single mom, thought I’d bring her here, she’ll make plenty.” Sukuna hums to himself, eyes narrowing.

You’re a mother?

Your eyes catch him across the room, lowering shyly. “She seems too… shy and shit? Ya sure she’s stripper material, maybe a bartender?”

“She will make way more dancing, and she’s danced in the past. Can’t take you eyes off her, huh?”

“Shut it.” But he can’t take them off you, and as clientele start coming, he’s fucking furious that they’re even able to see you.

“She’s not an easy fuck, Sukuna, so don’t anticipate it.” Sukuna smirks, leaning his head on his hand as Toji sips on his drink, a girl dancing on him.

Sukuna doesn’t even take the next dancer who wants to be on him, too busy watching you, knees on the polished marble floor, garters on your thighs already full of bills, your pretty little smile, eyes that are just… hiding something. There’s something about you that’s making him insane, and he’s said five words to you, so enthralled he barely notices when Gojo comes in.

Wearing sunglasses in a dark strip club he grins at Sukuna now, before looking in his direction, whistling. “Oh mommy.”

“Jesus.” Sukuna rolls his eyes as Satoru eyes you.

“Shit, she’s new huh?”

“Mmm.” Sukuna glares as Satoru takes off his glasses, eyeing you up and down slowly, too slowly.

“Can I just… go to the stage first?”

“Sit the fuck down, Satoru.” Satoru snorts as he looks at Sukuna and Toji, who is snorting in laughter himself.

“Possessive of the new girl, hmm?” Satoru sits between Toji and Sukuna now, as Candy starts cutting three lines for them.

“Shut the fuck up.” Sukuna grumbles, some guy is sliding his fingers up your thigh, and you’re tensing, brows together. “Hey, no touching the girls, fuck face.”

“He’s down bad, huh?” Gojo mumbles, as Sukuna is standing, gripping the guy by his collar.

“Since the moment he saw her.” Toji looks at Sukuna’s line, then at Satoru. “Shit let’s split his line too.”

Satoru and Toji are busy snorting Sukuna’s coke as he proceeds to fling the man out of the club, and you’re staring wide eyed at him, the grown man looking like a little boy compared to him, dangling in the damn air. You nervously clean the pole, before stepping down, coming over to Sukuna then and touching his arm, he jerks, looking at you like you burned him.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, easing your hand down, nervously fiddling with your fingers in front of you. “Thank you.”

“What!?” He demands, leaning low, hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“For that. Thank you, it wasn’t… I told him to back off. But I appreciate it, you are looking out for me.” You touch his chest now, it feels so natural to touch him, feeling his heart beat thumping against an apparently insanely strong chest, looking up at him under your long lashes that you put on for the night.

“I…” He can’t think of what to say then, you’re so sweet it should make him sick, but now he’s just feeling more want, more need. “You can dance for me tomorrow, then, show me what you got.” He manages gruffly.

“I absolutely will.” You say with a shy smile.

A shy stripper?

Who the fuck are you?

“I don’t have any other outfits yet, but I’m going to get some soon. Is it okay if I just wear this tomorrow?”

“Pshh, I’ll have some ordered.” You blink in surprise.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s nothing.” He pokes around on his phone for a few, eyeing your body up and down, lip turning up at the corner. “I bet I get your exact size.”

“What- how?”

“I’m an expert at tit size. Body size. Women.” You feel your cheeks heat up as he studies you, one of his dark brows raising, it has slits and this barbell in it that just make him more fucking attractive, doing erratic things to your mind.

“Well you can take it out of my-”

“Keep your money.” His gruff words and dismissive wave of his hand gives off the vibes that it’s nothing to him, but it’s a sweet gesture even if he’s acting as if it’s not one. “Come in early and dance for me, would ya. I wanna make sure Toji picked a good replacement.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You saying Sir makes him immediately think of painting that pretty ass with his big handprints, then drizzling his cum all over it, so lewd his cock throbs with need. What the fuck is wrong with him, he sees naked women constantly, why are you already irritating him like this. He glares, confusing the shit out of you.

“Tch.” Is all he says, then he walks away. You blink in confusion, shaking your head before looking at the time, realizing you have to leave if you wanna relieve the babysitter tonight.

Rushing into the locker room to change back into normal clothes, you’re shivering as you catch Sukuna outside, about to step inside a limo, when he looks at your surely silly clothing. You’re just in jeans and a hoodie as the chill of the air is out, even as he’s in a car full of girls in pretty dresses, surely you look silly to him you think as you wave goodbye.

But Sukuna is instead thinking of how someone could make a black hoodie look so delectable, picturing fucking you in just that. He ignores the girls in the car as he, Gojo and Toji head out to the club, for more negotiations. He ignores anyone and everything, instead you’re wrecking his mind.

How annoying.

*****

You are exhausted the next morning, as you spent the day with your little three year old, but you’re so blessed because just one night at the club and your fridge was full. Despite his father being rich, he did nothing to help you all out, and not just that he got you fired from your last job, by refusing to pick him up just once, and your boss had enough of you always being late or leaving early.

Your family tried to help out but you were pretty stubborn and wanted to take care of her yourself, also they weren’t dripping in money, quite the opposite in fact, they were struggling and also lived pretty far. You’d been so dumb, you think now, running off with him like that, so blinded by everything that he was saying to you, everything he was making you believe.

You were an idiot.

And not only was he a piece of shit in many aspects, he was dangerous, very dangerous, running with the mafia, things you learned quickly when men showed up at your home with guns. After a furious fight, you’d forgiven him (also like an idiot) but what you couldn’t forgive was also the constant cheating, the making you feel like it was your fault he had to.

After the third time of finding him with someone, you finally packed and left, taking all you had which was barely a thing with your baby boy. He’d threatened you over and over to come back, but you absolutely could not do so. The pain of being with him was too much, especially as he became darker and darker, as he downed you more and more.

Your mind keeps whirling to Sukuna, for some reason the very way he looked at you did shit you haven’t felt in years. You felt excited and nervous, as you even tip your sitter that evening, getting your little boy settled, brushing back his soft hair. “You don’t have to give me this much, babe.”

“Please, you’re a lifesaver!”

“He literally sleeps and I watch Netflix.” She says, and you sigh.

“I know but really, I should be making way more to pay you.” She smiles softly, shaking her head.

“Go on now.”

You’re hastily running inside the locker room, pouring out some makeup from your bag when Sukuna strolls in, tilting his head as he sees you. “Shit, I’m sorry I know I look…”

You look fucking beautiful, bare faced, but Sukuna’s words get caught in his throat. Instead he smirks, opening a locker and handing you a combination. “Got you a few things.”

“Oh thank you so much!” You peer then, at the slinky material, the glitter and mesh outfits, blushing at how much they reveal. “These are so pretty.”

“Just had one of the girls order some shit.” He brushes it off, as you look up at him like that, driving him insane with need for you, you’re in some hoodie and a messy bun again and he doesn’t think that he could find you more attractive, thinking of lifting your hoodie up and sliding inside you.

His thoughts make his head spin, which makes him scowl at you now, why do you have to do this to him? You blink a bit, frowning. “Something wrong?”

“Tch, no, just… get ready. You’re late as fuck you know.”

“I know, Toji said-”

“He givin’ you a hard time, Ma?” Toji saunters in now, and Sukuna glares over at him.

“No, not at all, he bought me outfits actually.” You say softly, holding one up, some little plaid strap of a skirt and a plaid tie. “Ooh this is so hot.”

“Buying girls outfits, Sukuna?” Toji asks curiously, Sukuna rolls his ruby red eyes, shaking his head.

“She didn’t have shit, you should’ve thought to, idiot.”

“Wanna take this out-”

“Hey, hey… I’ll totally pay you back, Mr. Sukuna.”

“No.” Is all he says, as you’re yanking off your hoodie and then your shirt, and you’re just… bare to him, but not just him, to Toji, who he wants to smack for even looking at you. You try on the little outfit, all giddy and giggling, the way your pretty tits look almost take him out. “I have… shit to do.”

Toji snorts, and you look on curiously at him, as you now take off your jeans and hook the little skirt on. “I can’t tell if he likes me or hates me.” You mumble, earning Toji’s laugh.

“Oh he likes ya alright, alright doll, go get ready, it’s about to get real busy in here.”

“Got it.”

Soon you’ve got your wig on, a pink silky one, and glitter dusted all over your skin, you’re getting ready to do a set, nervously spinning around the pole, your muscles are not what they used to be, so you can feel the pull, can see where the floor will be bruising your knees. You’re bending over as men throw bills at you, but you keep catching them, those glinting red eyes of his.

His eyes make you feel like he’s touching you, with those big tattooed hands, you try to shake it off but when he watches you it truly is like he’s touching you. As you meet his eye and rest a hand on the pole, moving your hips in a figure eight motion, you see him through that cloud of smoke, over his glass of whiskey, watching.

After your set is done you come to him, knowing it’s time to show him your dance moves - which you’re not sure are any good anymore. Sukuna tilts his head, and spins a seat on a smaller stage off to the right, eyes raking over your body hungrily. “Time for the show, hmm?”

“Y-yes.” You’re shaking damn near, so close to this man, he just does things to you by existing that you can’t really explain, and now you’re on your knees before him right on that stage, as he hungrily drinks you in. He’s puffing on a blunt, holding it up, but you shake your head. “No thanks.”

“A shy stripper who doesn’t even smoke, huh?” You swear he can see your blush even in the dark room, with the neon lights bouncing off your glittery skin.

“I mean I have before.” You move your hips now, rolling them, turning around and arching up your ass, knowing he can likely see the wet spot in your panties as you do, caused by his very presence.

Sukuna exhales, leaning closer, smoke blowing right against you almost, you feel the warmth and have to bite back a cry, as you shake your ass for him, and he’s thinking of railing you right there. Fuck he wouldn’t even give a shit if anyone saw, actually, as he watches you look back at him, smiling just a bit, so shy and sweet.

“A shy ass stripper, how’s that gonna work though?” He asks, and you’re slinking onto your tummy, he sees it then, the wet spot forming, making him want to rip those panties off and fully see that pretty pussy, so hungry it’s sucking your panties right against your lips.

“Is there no appeal in shy strippers, Mr. Sukuna?” You tease, turning back around, spreading your thighs, pulling at the damp material as he damn near crushes the blunt with his fingers.

“Hmm. So what made you come here?” He asks, voice gruff when you sit back up, breasts right in his face only covered with thin white gauze, he can literally see your nipples tighten as he smokes the blunt again, blowing the smoke up and over you both, cock straining against his boxers.

“To make money?” He smirks when you sigh and take the blunt, inhaling it and coughing all cute, your eyes watering.

“Took a pussy ass hit.”

“I tried!” You glare now, fuck you’re cute.

“Yeah, yeah. Heard Toji say you got a kid.” You pause now, eyes locked on his, heart racing in your chest.

“Is it a problem I do?” You whisper, and he grows serious, shaking his head now, making you exhale in relief.

“Lots of the girls do. The dad not around?”

You laugh without humor. “He sure the fuck isn’t, but he somehow still is, if that makes any sense.”

“Messy?”

“Mhm. This way I get to see him all day and make money, I couldn’t afford full time childcare, my friend is helping for a few hours at night.”

“Ah. Get up there for me.” He murmurs, and you stand, spinning in a slow circle, he notices stares of other men even though you’re off to the side, temporarily thinking you’re just with him instead. “Fuck…”

“Is it okay? I’m rusty and a little out of shape right now.” You say, as you slide back down, coming to your hands and knees, Sukuna takes in every pretty inch of you that’s on display, including a couple stretch marks along your skin that just make you sexier. When you see that you pull up the skirt a bit, nervous. “Shit, sorry…”

“For what? They’re sexy as fuck.” You are blushing furiously, overheated as his thumb brushes over one, the first contact you’ve damn near had with him, shooting desire straight through you.

“You’re being nice to me.”

“I’m not nice.” He says with a bark of a laugh, and then eyes some of his business partners coming in. “These men will pay good, why don’t you just dance for them?”

“Won’t the other girls get upset?” You ask, and he shrugs a broad shoulder.

“Really don’t fucking care, I run this shit.” He puts the blunt out into an ashtray, leaving you with goosebumps, as a strip club owner makes you feel sexier than you ever did with your ex, making your mind race.

Just who was he?

*****

The next week goes by, and every time you’re on a shift, Sukuna is there, he’s always got eyes on you, until it becomes damn near an obsession. If anyone even comes near you the wrong way he’s kicking them out, he puts you in every perfect time to make bank, he’s constantly watching you dance, looking at every pretty outfit he’s buying you.

Soon, Sukuna can’t help but start stroking his cock after your dances, locked in his office, picturing pressing the tip between those plump lips of your pussy, dying to fully see it. He’s got a big hand wrapped around his veiny length at least twice during your shift, and instead of fucking Candy or any of his regulars, he starts ignoring them all, because he needs you.

Sukuna goes so far as to take your panties, you must be curious where three pairs have gone, but he can’t help it, he loves to put them against his face, to stroke his cock with them, until he’s busting a nut all on your panties. He’s irritated, infuriated at this change of events you’ve brought, and he’s short and terse with you, but he still looks out for you even so.

It’s why you can’t help but run to his office, when you see him, your ex is right in the club, and you know he’ll recognize you. Terrified, you're quickly striding into Sukuna’s big fancy office, only to pause at the sight of his huge cock in his hand, gulping as you shut the door, looking away.

“I’m so, so sorry… I…” You turn around, you can’t help but watch the pearls of white precum pumping out of his reddened tip, his tattooed hand pausing his movements, frozen as he eyes you. “It’s my ex, I didn’t want him to see me, shouldn’t have just…”

“Want me to beat him the fuck up? Kick him out?” Sukuna asks then, huffing as he strokes his cock up and down while you step closer, the sight so erotic, as you’re even closer you see it, a little piercing on the underside of his cock, tempting you so badly to take it in your mouth.

“You would do that?” You whisper, leaning over him now, while he twists his fist from the base to the tip, so casual, as if this is a normal conversation, while you wonder if you could even take that much dick.

Shit you’d try.

“Just say the fucking word, I’ll end him for you.” You shake your head now.

“No, you’re already so good to me, Mr. Sukuna.” Your voice is soft like a caress as you eye him, watching his cock jerk in response.

He laughs harshly. “Am I?”

“Why don’t I be good to you?” Sukuna’s brain short circuits when you gently take his hand, sucking the precum off his fingers, wearing nothing but a mini skirt and fucking tassels, he moans at the sight of your cheeks hollowing as you taste him.

“Fuck…” He has been with plenty of women, no one has ever left him speechless like this, just with that little movement. He takes those fingers then, slipping up your inner thigh and shoving your thong to the side, sinking them in, you gasp out, a sexy little whine from your throat destroying him. “Gonna be good to me, huh?” He asks huskily, as he curls his fingers.

You’re gushing down them, nodding and taking his enormous cock in one hand, bracing yourself with the other, barely able to cover a bit of him, stroking him with your soft hand instead, he moans, eyes laser focused on your pretty face. Your pupils are so enlarged he can barely see your pretty eye color, your lips parted when he presses that spongy spot in your gummy little walls.

“Wanna suck me brat, hmm?” You nod now, and he’s trying to keep it together, but when he’s sucking you off his fingers, his cock twitches, oozing more cum when you’re on your knees, looking at him under your lashes.

He yanks your wig off then, letting your hair loose, gripping and pulling while you swirl your tongue along his tip. Sukuna’s never felt like he’s going to bust from a lick, but here you are, ruining him, a mix of him wanting to beat the shit out of anyone who has ever touched you, and wanting to fuck your pretty throat, and your pretty pussy, until you’re drooling.

“Want me to fuck your little throat?” You nod, unable to speak or think, you don’t just do this, but you’re aching, cunt throbbing around nothing as You take as much as you can, breathing through your nose while Sukuna fucks up into your throat over and over, choking and gagging on him, pussy drooling past your panties. “Oh my f-fuck… right there.”

“Mmm.” Is all you can manage, when his big hand is entangled in the nape of your neck, bobbing your head up and down his cock, feeling your tongue swirl around his tip, as he pictures fucking into that pussy he tastes on his fingers again. Picturing burying his face inside you.

What are you doing to him?

He’s losing it further as you suck him as deep as you can, tears in your pretty eyes, so eager, he’s sucking in a breath at feeling just a hint of your teeth hit him, just a nipple on the tip as you take a breath of your own, licking at his piercing. “Look at you, doing such a good job, aren’t you? Slutty lil fuckin brat.”

You really should not like hearing it, but you’re wetter now, so wet you reach down to find your clit, moaning around his length, close to cumming just from how he’s ruining the back of your throat. It burns and stretches as you’re sucking him deeper and deeper, his thrusts hard, fucking your mouth now.

“That’s it, want me to fuck this pretty face, huh? That all those goddamn looks you give me- fuck… y-you… oh my… shit, slow down…” You’re sucking harder though, even when he pulls on your hair, even when he yanks your hand off your clit, sucking your little fingers. “Wanna fucking wreck you, ruin you, god…”

You’re sucking him harder, feeling the piercing roll on your tongue as he sucks you off your fingers, until he’s gasping, and you swear you hear this huge man with a good nine inches whine. Yes, that’s the sound that comes out of those vermillion lips as he shoves your head down, until you’ve got him all the way in the back of your throat, busting inside it.

You’re choking on salty but somehow sweet cum, drinking it all down as you exhale through your nose, mascara leaking down your cheeks as you take him all, and Sukuna literally can’t even see for a minute. He’s crying out like a little bitch all because you’re somehow psychotically good at sucking him!?

“Fuck… you brat… didn’t wanna bust-fuck!” He’s groaning now, yanking you off finally, and looking at those mascara trails on your pretty cheeks, at your fucked out expression and swollen lips.

“Didn’t think I’d swallow before I got a kiss.” You whisper, voice hoarse, and he yanks you up now, having you straddle his lap, cock still hard, just a little softer, but Sukuna on soft was still huge. You look right at him, your breaths coming in little pants as he studies you, moaning softly, brushing a thumb over your lip.

“Ya want a kiss? So fuckin’ sappy, huh?” He demands, and you smile just a bit, leaning closer, your lips a breath away.

“You so badass you don’t kiss girls, Sukuna?” It’s the first time you’ve just called him that, and the way he can almost taste his cum on your lips ends him, but he sure won’t show it, instead he’s gripping your tits, watching your face scrunch up in pleasure, smirking up at you.

“Wanna kiss me so bad? Want me to fuckin’ fill you?” He whispers, and you whimper then. “Pathetic.”

“Please.” Is all you whisper, and he’s kissing you then, when he kisses you he thinks he likes it as much as busting in your damn mouth, if that’s even possible, his tongue drippy and messy as it wars with yours. He’s drinking your cries, pulling your body so close against his.

“Shit…” He mumbles, he’s never felt anything like this, yeah he kisses because it’s kind of hot to, but you do something, something in his tummy clenching right along with yours, you feel it, that energy, as your puffy cunt presses on his again hard cock, and he’s biting your lower lip so rough.

“Sukuna…” You whisper, whining out, forgetting your ex completely, forgetting anything right now, and he looks at you under sooty pink lashes, making your pussy throb in need.

Sukuna kisses you hungrier now, his hands all over you, rough and hot and brutal, when suddenly the door opens, and Toji whistles. “Damn, okay… I got no chance, huh?”

“Toji get the fuck out.” Sukuna grumbles, but you panic then, remembering who you are. You have a kid and you’re just… on your knees sucking this man’s dick, about to fucking ride him.

It’s one thing to dance, but how are you losing yourself so quickly in him? It was like every problem faded, but it’s stupid, so stupid.

“I should go, I’m sorry…” You’re running out then, and soon you’re getting ready to leave for the night, when Sukuna corners you against the wall, the wind blowing through your hair as he bars you on either side with big muscled arms. “Sukuna…”

“You just ran, the fuck?” He grabs your chin, making your eyes meet his. “Come over tonight.”

You gasp then. “But… you got off.”

“And you didn’t, what kinda man are you taking me for, hmm?” His words make that ache return, as he’s got a thigh between yours, hissing. “She wants to cum, doesn’t she?” You nod weakly.

“I’m… I don’t do this.”

“And I don’t ask to do this.” He doesn’t beg either, but he’d beg for you, god he would. “Come let me take care of you.”

“I can’t…”

“Stop thinking and-”

“No, I can’t, I have my kid.” He pauses then, falling back just a bit, despite having this obsession with you, he still does not know enough yet, about your life, about you. He finds himself enamored as his lips part, and he studies you, the light from the moon glowing and casting a million diamonds off your still glittery skin.

God you’re so beautiful.

“When are you free?” He asks, and you sigh.

“Maybe tomorrow night? I’d have to pay my-”

“I’ll pay whatever extra.” He cuts you off. “Just… make sure you have a night.”

“Okay…” You never spend much time without your kid, it makes you just a little nervous, but something about him is luring you in, drawing you closer. “I mean he’s asleep anyway at night so I should be able to have the sitter stay.”

“He? A son?” He murmurs, and you nod, smiling a bit as he now is walking you to your car, the way you light up is so pretty, as he eyes your shitty ass car. God he can’t wait to take care of you, he thinks, have you dripping in money.

“Yes, a son. He’s my everything, it’s why I’m here.”

Sukuna wants to be something to you. He sighs then, seatbelting you in, a gesture caring and sweet, Sukuna is an enigma you realize, as he cups your face, eyeing your lips, and you wonder wildly if he will kiss you, but he just hovers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hmm?”

“Yes. Goodnight, Sukuna.” You whisper, as he shuts your door, watching you drive away.

You will be his, there’s no choice really.

Okay I know this isn't like my other storieesss but it's been killing me and I need to get it out. Hope it's not too crazy lol? Sukuna is gonna be even more Yan as we go lol

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[grumpydragontea]

Let's also address the bullshit excuses I've seen trotted out to defend this.

"It's a roman salute!" - The roman salute, also known as the facist salute was first attributed to known fascist Benito Musolini, who took a lot of inspiration from the Roman empire. It was then used liberally by Hitler and the Third Reich. Said gesture was inspired by PAINTINGS and has no ancient historical basis. I checked. Go ask a historian.

"That's not what a nazi salute looks like" - Actually it is. There's side beside comparisons and it's exactly the same. Chest thump, stiff downturned hand and all.

"It's out of context!" - The context is the world's richest man, whom many suspect directly interfered with the recent US election, who has familial ties to known nazi sympathisers, who's wealth comes from an Apartheid emerald mine, who has bought every position and bit of renown, spent years on twitter interacting and re-tweeting white supremacist bullshit AND has backed the neo-nazi party in Germany threw a Nazi Salute TWICE at the US Presidential inauguration. Also added context, this shit was blurred OUT in Germany, Austria and Australia. Cops that shits illegal here. Cos it's nazi shit.

FYI he also told said German neo-nazis that it's time to "let go of their guilt" on the anniversary of Auschwitz's liberation. I hope I don't need to spoon feed you what guilt he's talking about.

"He said he throws his heart out to the crowd!" - And Adolf said his heart beats for Germany while doing the same thing. Your willingness to take bullshit like candy doesn't change the fact that it's bullshit.

"He's autistic" - Bitch, so am I and I've never felt the urge to seig heil in my fucking life. And my family came to Aus from Germany. If I can't use the tism to excuse flat tone and resting bitchface, he sure as fuck can't use it to justify nazi shit.

"It was a mistake." - He did it twice. On stage. Will full feeling. You apologise for mistakes. He hasn't.

"He's jewish" - No he's not. The closest I could find is him saying he's "jewish by association" after visiting Auschwitz.

"But Waltz/Kama/insert democrat here did it!" - I heard this and checked and every example is a screenshot of said democrat gesturing, waving or doing something else. Funny how context only matters when it's in the defence of a man doing nazi shit huh?

This is nazi shit. If you defend it, you are defending nazi shit. If you do it, you are doing nazi shit. And people will likely assume you are a nazi. Also if you do it, film it and join the growing number of morons that have gotten fired for doing nazi shit.

Thankfully there's a lot of people who can see this for what it is and know the historical precedent for dealing with nazis.

Take it away Hellboy.

what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?

would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?

[kaisentine]

imagine rin snitching on you to sae about your little crush on him.

“…that was 11 years ago, sae.”

“you wanna watch big bro again?” the black-haired boy groans out in annoyance. “uh-huh!” you gleam out while smiling—flashing him with your braced teeth. you’ve been asking rin that question a lot recently and it’s starting to irk him a little bit. he isn’t stupid, he can put two and two together to compose a theory about you having something a little more than friendly feelings for his sibling. however, he can’t deny the fact that he does want to see his brother play too. that’s what brings you to the neighborhood’s field to watch the muddy-red-head kick around some stupid ball. it looks like sae didn’t seem to care about the two pairs of eyes watching him—it makes you question whether he even remembers rin shouting to him 30 minutes prior. “girl, you don’t even like soccer.” he deadpans next to you with this hands shoved into his jacket’s pockets—that is a very true statement—and the fact you don’t know anything about the sport other than playing against other people to shoot a ball into a goal. you stay silent to contemplate the answer (you’re lowkey just distracted by the way sae moves are so languid). “hey, i watch you play too!” you retort, suppressing the urge to punch his shoulder. “that’s because i ask you to,” so he’s doubling down and admitting he actually forces you to watch him play? “but last time i checked, i don’t see big bro asking you.” he finishes before sticking his popsicle back into his mouth. there’s no arguing with that so you don’t respond any further.

rin is very observant—he can tell your body stiffens whenever sae comes onto your radar even just for a second. the way you stop mid-conversation to hold your breath when he asks rin (and you but you do nawt speak) what you guys want for dinner when you stay over. rin can’t contain his laughter when his brother leaves the room. “what are you laughing about?” you sound annoyed and flattened after holding your breath—he has to hold his hand up to signal you to just wait until he’s done laughing. “what the heck was that?” he says in between chuckles. you catch onto what he means by that… you aren’t as sneaky as you think you are, are you? “it wasn’t that funny!” you finally get to punch his shoulder in embarrassment after he makes it very apparent that you are quite obvious. despite the fact you haven’t ever actually vocalized to him that you like sae yet, you basically already have. but he’s like an ongoing court case—everybody is innocent until proven guilty.

it’s the way you refuse to go anywhere in the itoshi house unless you’re with rin. he thinks you’re insufferable when you have to insist there’s a ghost who doesn’t allow you to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water—good thing rin is an exorcist! he begrudgingly leads you downstairs only to lean against the wall to wait for you to finish getting your water. oh but if sae is also there? you crawl your way back up the stairs with rin following close behind you, whispering displeased questions. “you just said you were dying of thirst!” he whisper-shouts the moment he closes his bedroom door—he’s getting real annoyed of your antics. “not anymore…” you’re pathetic, making him do a lot just to become a scaredy-cat? “i’d rather not drag a dead body out of my room.” he alludes as if you were actually going to die of dehydration.

you can’t just (basically) live at the itoshi household without interacting with sae at least once. panic begins to set in your stomach when you hear shuffling from behind rin’s bedroom door—is it a robber? is it a murderer? oh no, it is much worse—it’s sae! you hear the doorknob twist and it’s too late for you to hide under the bed or maybe the closet… aw shit—he’s already standing there in all his glory with rin’s training bag. “oh, it’s you.” he says in sight of seeing a familiar figure on his younger brother’s bed. “where’s rin?” he asks and cocks an eyebrow when you don’t respond immediately. why did he have to go looking for him at the worst time? (which is all the time) “h-he’s in the bathroom…” bruh wtf goes through your head which you mentally slap in absolute cringe at your stutter. “oh okay, i’ll leave his bag here. bye.” he drops the bag on the floor before taking his leave—without closing the door! you’re too flushed to care about the gesture. when rin eventually does return to his bedroom, he’s met with the sight of an open door and his friend looking traumatized on his bed.

or that one time where you accidentally clung onto sae after getting an adrenaline rush from a horror movie rin really wanted to watch. you didn’t understand why sae insisted on sitting next to you on the couch when there was a perfectly open spot beside rin. “…and i’ll blow your house in!” a crazed man wielding an axe says before hacking the white door in-front of him the scene was the equivalent to actually being chased and you subconsciously gripped anything beside you which turned into full on hugging. “uhm…” there’s a voice beside you that brings you back to reality. you look at the direction of the voice then hesitantly look up to whatever you’re hugging. oh. my. word. you are clinging onto sae’s arm. safe to say rin was in the middle for the rest of the movie viewings.

“can you just admit it?” rin grumbled after a match with another school. “no idea what y’er talkin’ ‘bout!” you sing-song happily while extending your hand to give him the water-bottle he asked for. his movements halted, the towel on top of his head being left there to rot. he looks at you like he hates you for saying that, he snatches his water-bottle like it’s a crime for you to even be holding it. the man in-front of you is absolutely tired of your bullshit that he has tolerated for at least 3 years. “admit it right now.” he’s a lot more serious and anticipating an answer—more than any other situation he’s asked you in. “legit, no idea what you’re talking about.” there’s a lot of things you do need to admit, like how you still need to admit that you’re the one who added the vinegar in his soy sauce… “you like big bro, don’t you?” he bluntly states. “w-what makes you think that?” you stutter like the one time sae directly spoke to you. “everything.” it’s disturbing how much rin means to you that you actually finally admit your feelings.

it’s like you’re the 3rd child of the itoshi family, being at the airport to watch (the love of your life) sae depart for another country. there were tearful goodbyes which you wanted to relate to but you couldn’t because then it would out you for liking him because you never really talked to him anyway. he was exchanging goodbyes with each of his family members—his dad, then his mom, lastly rin. okay… why’s he looking over to you… “it’s okay to cry over this, i know you’ll miss me.” he winks, his stupid bangs actually looking good for once—it feels like every blood cell in your body is rushing to your cheeks and ears. “why’d he say that…” you turn to rin who is beside you after sae turned his back towards everybody for who knows how long. “i told him.” he blurts out. “RIN!!!!”

your feelings were definitely not resolved that day. you still have silent beef with rin for him outing you, you didn’t even know he snitched until he told you! the last time sae was in the country other than for u-20, he had a really bad comeback with rin—making you ice over your affections (not an effective way for getting over somebody btw).

“so?” he’s condescending. the absence of his bangs make you realize how much more grown he looks now. however, the thing that you really take note of is his eyes. sure, he’s grown more into his face but the way his eyes are half-lidded and no longer the bright annoyed ones make you really question everything.

gosh—literally every time he speaks to you, you just can’t make up the words. that ‘that was 11 years ago, sae’ was probably all your confidence for the next 11 years to come. “a lot can happen during a decade.” you push through to retort, clutching the bag that hung lazily over your shoulder. out of anywhere, he chooses to confront you like this—after a game?

“i didn’t even say it myself, that was rin!” you defend yourself, not letting yourself give into his advancements. he steps forward and you know he’s shorter than rin but fucking hell… “i changed a lot, didn’t i?” it’s a rhetorical question—he knows you can tell. it’s like he was testing the waters because when you don’t respond but you don’t react violently either, he continues, “i’m not stupid either. you don’t think i couldn’t tell?”

which event was he referring to? what if he was referring to when… oh not now. “okay, so what if it was true? that doesn’t mean i like you anymore.” you scramble around your thoughts to find words. “too bad, i still like you.”

ugh, i waited this long.

ALSO I JUST WANNA THANK EVERYONE 🙁🙁🙁 thank you guys for 100 followers :)

[waytootiredstudent]

Why the CDU/CSU can go fuck itself

Time for another one of these. a quick(ish) summary for all the non-german speakers about why we're freaking out and the state of our democracy.

Spoiler. its not...good. Not catastrophic (yet). But the alarm bells are very, very loud.

Tl;dr: The CDU, party currently prognosed to win the election, has basically worked together with the afd to get a migrationbill to pass that is very strict. The afd are the nazi party that is getting backed by Musk. This might forshadow a cooperation between AFD and CDU. That would put the far right in power. The current response from the general public are demonstrations against that. Like. there are a LOT of protests currently.

Alright grab a drink and lets go.

First, groundwork: Who are parties and who is the guy we currently all want to punch in the face?

on top: Careful, risk of confusion. on the left: on the board of a sleazy cooperation. not interested in the enviroment. Real. On the right: on the board of a sleazy cooperation. not interested in the enviroment. comic figure.

This guy here is Friedrich Merz. no, not the guy on the right. the guy on the left. I know. Easy mistake to make.

He's an asshole. He's also the current boss of the CDU and their chancellor candidate. He's very likely to win according to recent polls.

The CDU has a complicated history, but to simplify it: They were in charge for sixteen years before the now broken apart Traffic-light goverment and are responsible for a lot of shit that we're currently dealing with. Like crumbling infrastructure for example. They were more interested, as a party, to preserve the status quo at all costs, than to invest anything. You could argue that a lot of the enviromental issues we are facing and the reason why Germany is currently pretty stagnant, can be traced back to the one and a half decade the CDU was in charge. They are conservative, not a fan of migration and like to throw around 'tradtional values'.

They are, generally speaking, or better were, center right. More on that later.

The other party that is going to be a major pain in the ass to outright fucking dangerous, is the AFD, short for 'Alternative for Germany'.

this is Alice Weidel, she's the current chancellor candidate for the afd. here is her wikipedia article and lets just say her 'controversies' part is longer than her 'political positions' part.

Those are the, to put it bluntly, Nazis. They are dangerous but also a fucking mess. Like, to just list a few of their hits: They've been getting money from dictators (different ones btw, not just one), infigthing is a sport to them, they try to glorify the nazi-regime, the german intelligence agency is watching them because they are officially considered radical right-wing and a threat to democracy, there is a petition to ban the afd and that is a high bar to cross, the demonize immigrants, hate queer people, you know, the usual. Also of course political correctness has gone too far and climate change isn't real and we need to leave the EU. Elon Musk, you know the rich guy who did the Nazi-salute, also has been appearing and is actively supporting them. Just in case we were unclear before on where they all stand.

(btw the whole 'elon is supporting them' thing is pretty scary bc you could argue the reason that the afd is able to win so many votes is bc, frankly, they're good at social media. Do i need to elaborate why that is a dangerous combination.)

to put them into perspective: The afd is too right for the other alt-right parties in the EU parlament. There is a coalition in the EU Parlament for the right, made up of all the right wing parties from other nations and the afd is too right for them. So. yeeeeaaah.

that should do it as background information.

Now. back to current events. where both of these parties are getting more and more support.

For a short history of why we currently have a non-functioning goverment, i made a post about that. Be aware that it was made as a product of its time and doesn't have all the information. For example back then we didn't know that FDP had actively engineered that break up and wanted it to happen for a while. Yes. They wanted to topple the goverment they were in. on purpose. It's been a fun time over here in Germany as well.

anyways, lets get to the meat of things. Since we don't have a functional goverment currently, Merz has introduced a harsh migration bill. This has been in the wake of an attack with two murders, where the current suspect is a migrant. while this is a tragedy, its getting brutally misused by all out rightwing parties to scream about how we need stricter migration laws and that migrants are a danger. Which to be so fucking clear about this, is such bullshit. It's been proven so many times how that is bullshit. I'm gonna be real and not even bother. They're just the newest scapegoats everything can be blamed on.

But because nobody has a majority, all attempts at governing so far have been pretty stalled.

(our goverment currently)

Quick information from the past:

in 2018 the CDU basically stated they wouldn't, in any sort of way, cooperate with the AFD, declaring basically a Brandmauer (fire wall). This basically means that yes, the afd had been given seats in the parlament, but nobody would give them any power whatsoever.

This has been the position of the cdu. It is why people still considered them center-right.

Merz has repeatedly said he didn't care who voted with him. now with a slight majority, 348 to 344, the cdu has won, with the support of the afd. Many see this as the fall of the Brandmauer. It's not good. Merz has more and more talking points that sound exactly like the afd and that is SCARY. There is still a vivid memory alive here about why having a far-right goverment is dangerous. There is a reason why there are currently a lot of massive protests all over the country loudly proclaiming that 'never again is now'.

This also puts for many the cdu from 'center right' to 'right'. There are calls from inside the cdu to 'stop demonizing the afd'. This is scary. This could mean that we get not just a conservative goverment in a few weeks, but a rightwing one. One who is comfortable cooperating with radical right wingers if it suits their needs. To cooperate with a party that even our own intelligence agencies consider a threat to our democrazy.

So. that is why your german mutuals sit there like

Now. To another part. What exactly is that migration bill merz had wanted to pass so desperateldy?

Well first of all it calls for a national emergency, using the beforementioned murder as reasoning, for the danger of immigration. It calls for closing and controls at the borders permanently, not temporary as is curently the case. They want for people without valid ID to be refused entry, even when they are searching safety. People that are already in Germany but need to leave should be thrown in jail until they actually leave.

Which. just to be clear about this. this what the bill they had, that had the support of the afd, says. This is not a wish list. This what they want to be law.

But to be also clear, lots of this is against our current law, against Basic EU law and principle and also a pretty big violation of our constituation.

Which is what makes this situation so fatal. This bill is going to be fought. In court, in politics, with demonstrations on the streets. this bill is controversial. Merz knew that. he knew that a lot of this wouldn't pass. This is a publicly stunt. This is testing the waters. How much will the public allow? how far can he push? Is cooperation with the afd possible for him? How does everyone react?

It was never about immigration or that bill. All the people this is going to impact, all the lives that are going to be lost because of this shit they are pulling - this is to them all just collateral. Its testing how much is possible, tolerated even. The chances of this bill making it law is slim. It needs to pass again in a different body of the goverment with a two thirds majority and that is nowhere in sight.

Also, lets take a look at who voted what:

it was about four votes. So my german friends who also read this - look at this and be aware of who voted what. Who abstained to vote and gave up the four votes it would have taken to stop this. who accepted that to get what they want they would need to get the support of the afd, no matter how much Merz now claims that he still doesn't cooperate with the afd and that there were no talks between them. Look at the numbers. Look how and with who they voted.

To be frank, i am pretty pissed off. I don't think much about wallowing in self-pity and despair. i am pissed off about what is happening. i am pissed off that these people don't have a spine, i am pissed off at the FDP for enabling this in the first place, i am pissed off that we have Nazis in out goverment, i am pissed off that we have people who are willing to cooperate with them. I am pissed off that i need to settle for damage control instead of being able to see something finally move forward.

Now here we come to the less depressing part of this whole thing. And i want you to pay attention to it.

People are protesting. loudly. And in the thousands. There have been ten to a hundred thousands of people all over the country in the last week, protesting against the rise of faschism and the far right. Its all over the country, in different cities. Where the afd appears to talk, so do the protesters. There are 35 afd people to 1300 protesters. People loudly say 'never again is now'. And they show up to back that claim up.

This shit is vile, yes, but it's not going to be unopposed.

I know this all reads as depressing as fuck but do not give into the temptation of falling into despair. This is far from over. Yes those are the alarm bells and they are ringing loudly. But there is still things that can be done. Don't let the afd lure you into thinking this all pointless anyways. It's not. This is all not good, yes, but no reason to fall into blind panic. The bill isn't law yet. Merz is facing massive backlash for his little stunt. This is not a hopeless situation. It's just a shitty one.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty two

authors note: we're nearing the end, folks. buckle up!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and smut

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

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Baby, look.”

Roman redirects his focus from the text reply he was formulating to Dwayne to glance over at his wife who’s angling her phone screen toward him. 

Naturally, he’s confused by what he’s looking at, seeing a lot of colors, several words in different fonts/sizes, and what looks like fruit.

“What is this?”

Solana smiles and leans against his arm, explaining, “this is what our girls look like right now.” Realizing how that sounds considering she’s showing him a picture of actual fruit, Solana explains, “well, this is how big they are right now. The size of two Limes.”

And, it’s only when she says that, Roman takes the time to really look at the screen. To see that it in fact reads, “At 12 weeks, your babies are about as big as two lines” accompanied by a graphic of two limes as well as other things, one of them prompting him to point and ask. “And that?”

Solana’s smile deepens. “That’s what they probably look like.” Rubbing her belly, she clarifies, “it might not be an exact match, but pretty close.” She looks over at Roman, ready to explain more when she sees it. Sees the amazement. The surprise. The emotion.

“Shit,” he finally breathes, eyes still on the phone. “They….they’re growing fast.”

Solana nods, kissing his shoulder. “According to my app, their pituitary gland is producing hormones, and their bone marrow is making white blood cells, which will help them fight off germs.” Solana’s explanation is accompanied by her showing him her phone with the information displayed. 

Roman scoffs, finally looking at her and asking, “how did you get this? Is it something the doctor gave you or—”

She shakes her head. “No. It’s just a pregnancy app. I’ve tried out a couple, but I really like this one.”

“How do I get it on my phone?” He asks, Solana partially taken back by his interest, though it makes sense when she thinks about it. Her husband is a man who likes to be in the know and have information readily available to him, and an app that allows him to track the growth of their unborn children seems like a great resource for just that.

“You can download it from the app store. It’s called What to Expect.”

Roman moves to grab his phone, tapping around, a scowl growing on his face. “Where’s that damn little box?” Solana leans into him, pressing her face into his arm to hide her amusement. “Why does it keep moving and shit?”

The struggle to withhold her laughter is real. “Baby, it’s not moving. They had another iOS update, so the layout changed again.” 

“Another one?” She can’t help it. A giggle escapes, as Roman’s scowl deepens. “How many fucking updates are they going to do? I already can’t find shit half the damn time. Now they’re just making it even more difficult. Fucking hate this damn phone.” 

Solana moves her hand to the back of his head, massaging the base of his neck, trying to calm him down while also having to push back the desire to fall out in laughter. Roman is easily the most intelligent person she’s ever come across, but his inability to work or understand technology will never not be hilarious.

She 1000% believes that if he wasn’t who he is, he would most definitely do well, and best, with a flip phone.

“Here, babe. Let me do it for you.” Roman has zero issues handing over his phone to his wife who in a matter of minutes has not only downloaded the app, but has set up the account as if it was her profile so he can follow along, just as she’s doing. “There you go. All done.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and she leans up to kiss his temple. Solana allows him time to play around and explore the app, while she shifts to something different but equally important. 

And, it’s when she stumbles across one that she likes, she draws his attention, once again showing him her screen. 

Instantly, he’s confused, and he’s not afraid to express as such.

“What is that?”

Solana looks at him, initially thinking he’s joking, which is a strange, impossible thing because her husband doesn’t joke. But, judging by the genuinely confused look on his face, he also really doesn’t know just what he’s looking at.

“It’s a crib, Roman,” she answers, providing additional information when that one word also doesn’t seem to trigger anything for him. “It’s actually a 4 in 1 with a changing table and can also be converted to a crib and a toddler bed as they get older, so we wouldn’t have to buy new—”

“I don’t want them using old shit,” Roman’s interruption, despite the almost rude wording, is more informative than anything. “We’ll buy them new things as they need em’.”

Solana frowns a bit. “But, if we can find something so we don’t have to spend unnecessary money—”

“If it’s for them, it’s not unnecessary, Sol.” She rolls her eyes, as he asks with almost uncertainty. “So a crib….it’s like….a baby bed?”

She nods, her small smile returning. “Yes.” She motions to the screen that shows the pink and one number she finds herself really liking. “The rails on it keep them from falling out or even climbing out when their gross motor skills start to kick in more.” 

“When does that start?”

“It depends,” Solana answers. “Every baby is different. They typically learn how to roll over at around 4 months, and their mobility just continues to grow and improve from there.”

Roman nods, clearly taking in all of this new information. “So does that mean they’ll need to sleep in the room with us?” His question is so innocent, borderline naive, that it makes Solana giggle. “Until they learn….how to control their movements and shit.”

She shakes her head, gentle grin on her face matching her patient tone. “No, baby. They don’t need to sleep in the room with us. We’ll just get baby monitors to put up in their nursery.” Sensing he’s still hesitant, she adds, “they have ones with audio and video.”

This seems to settle him a bit when he, in true Roman fashion, picks up on a single word. “They’ll have separate rooms.”

Solana rolls her eyes. “Maybe when they’re older, but as babies, they can share the same nursery, Ro.”

It’d honestly make things easier, too, as Solana plans to breastfeed, and just the logistics of it, changing them, rocking them, and other things, will be significantly easier if they’re feet apart instead of rooms apart.

However, Roman doesn’t seem to be having it. 

“I want them to have their own space.”

She sits up a bit, looking at him, borderline shocked. “As babies?” She shakes her head, rubbing her temples. “Roman, they won’t even know what a room is, let alone anything about a space.”

“You don’t know that for certain.”

“Roman—” Solana has to stop herself. Lord knows she loves this man with everything in her, but he’s being impossible right now. Just like she also knows there can be no reasoning with him when he gets like this. “Okay, we—we can revisit this later.” Eager to get onto another similar baby subject, she asks, “how–how is this going to work?”

He looks at her. “What do you mean?”

Realizing her question was far too vague, she doesn’t waste any time clarifying. “I mean with the shopping portion. There’s a lot of things we’re going to need, and I can definitely get a lot of it online, but I’d like to be able to shop in person…and for you to go with me.”

The elaboration is helpful, Roman nodding, clearly understanding the true, unspoken concern in all of that.

In that how do they keep this pregnancy as under wraps as possible while still being able to enjoy it with little things like baby shopping.

“You just have to let me know at least a couple hours in advance if you want to go somewhere and where exactly you want to go, so I can have the stores cleared out.” Solana partially expected as such, given how he’s done the same every time they go grocery shopping together. Same with the empty doctor's office they're currently sitting in, waiting for the start of her three month check up appointment, Bautista and their security team patrolling the premises.

And, she’s not even showing yet.

But, it’s what he says next that she hasn’t really thought about. “And when you start showing, you won’t be able to go out much.”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

Roman sighs, clearly trying to word it as best he can. A thoughtfulness always reserved for her. “Realistically speaking, there’s a chance, even if small, this pregnancy will reach the ears of people who don’t need to know. So, that means I have to eliminate their access to you—”

“But, I have security—”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” A gentle but firm interruption. “My family had security that night, too, and look what still happened.” Solana’s shoulders slump, her heart aching seeing the flash of pain cross his handsome face. “The only way to ensure the safety of you and the babies is to cut off any access to you.”

She's following along, understanding where he’s coming from, but it’s not exactly what she was wanting and expecting to hear. “I….I won’t be able to leave the house?”

Roman pauses. “You will, just….on an as needed basis.”

Solana grows quiet, sitting on Roman’s words. They make sense, given who he is, what them welcoming children into this world will mean for them. Mean for him. Though she can’t deny a part of her is saddened at the fact that she won’t be able to treat this pregnancy like any other expectant mother would.

That she can’t be out shopping, bump displayed freely, without having to worry about who sees it. Dragging Roman from store to store as she tries to find matching outfits for their girls. Having him help her pick out furniture, while they consult with the sales associates for what is best. The normal things.

And Roman sees this, sees the sort of grief she’s experiencing at realizing some of that, maybe none of that, will be possible.

That at some point, she’ll be practically homebound.

“I know….” He trails off, Solana hating the regret that crosses his handsome face. “I know it’s not what you imagined or probably want, and I’m sorry it’s because of me, but—”

She shakes her head, completely shifting gears, unwilling to have him feel anything remotely close to bad. “I wouldn’t want this if I couldn't do it with you.” An easy thing to share, even if it seems to startle her husband. Solana sees the surprise, feels the way he’s almost moved by such a thing. “Ro….” Solana reaches across, taking his hand and settling it on her stomach, her hand atop of his. “There’s no one else I’d want to do this with, but you. If I couldn’t have you as the father of my children, I wouldn’t want children. It’s…..it’s you or nothing, Roman.” She smiles, eyes watering. “And if that means some of the traditional things I don’t get to do or have, then that’s just what it is.”

Because at the end of the day, the most important thing is doing whatever it takes to welcome two healthy babies into this world. Some things might be missed, yes, but she’s certain it’ll all be worth it the moment Lina and Leya arrive.

Leaning up, she kisses his bearded jaw, murmuring, “I love you.”

He repeats it back at the same moment the nurse comes out and calls her name. Solana takes Roman’s hand as they walk to the back, going through the same order of things as her last few appointments. Questions. Urine sample. Bloodwork. It’s all routine at this point, the most exciting part being when Dr. Sharmell walks in. She asks her usual questions, and Solana provides her honest answers. 

Sometimes Roman chimes in with a question usually regarding what to expect at this point in her pregnancy, so he knows what to expect. It’s all so attentive and moving, how much he cares and how invested he is.

“Time for your favorite part,” Dr. Sharmell jokes as she moves the transducer over Solana’s stomach, searching only briefly. “Here’s Baby A.” The rhythmic beating is soothing and relieving, a big smile on Solana’s face as she looks over at the screen, immensely settled by the sound of her baby’s heartbeat. “Heartbeat just as strong as last time.”

Roman rubs his thumb over Solana’s knuckles as the doctor travels the transducer around a little bit longer this time around. “Baby B once again giving me a hard time.” She shakes her head, Solana holding in her smile at the thought that crosses her mind. A silly one, in some ways. 

Lina. 

Lina comes to mind. Glimpses of her spitfire and wild child spirit from her and Roman’s shared dreams, and how making her identification during a routine ultrasound difficult seems just so aligned with her personality.

“There you are,” Dr. Sharmell makes an ‘aha’ sound, the baby’s steady heartbeat once again filling the room. “And there’s Baby B.”

Solana’s eyes water as she stares at the screen, seeing her children, her babies. “They’re getting so big.”

“They are,” the doctor smiles, observing. “I see you’re still not showing yet, but I’d gather it’s only a matter of a few weeks until you’ll see a bump.”

Solana giggles, squeezing Roman’s hand, completely uncaring of what the emergence of a bump might mean for safety measures. Having a baby bump makes this pregnancy just that much more real. 

Physical proof of the lives growing inside of her. 

“Everything looks good?” Her husband asks, ever the concerned and wanting to stay on top of everything.

Dr. Sharmell nods. “Everything looks great. Babies are growing as expected at the three month mark. Stats look great,” she answers, going to wipe the gel off Solana’s stomach. “In fact, you don’t have to be on pelvic rest anymore.” The announcement takes both husband and wife by surprise, as the OB-GYN continues to explain, “your ultrasound has come back clear during your last three visits with no bleeding since the initial incident. I could have cleared you last week, but I just wanted to make absolute certain.”

Roman and Solana share a look, the former asking, almost skeptically, “are you sure?”

“Positive,” she reassures. She directs her statement to Solana. “You can resume all normal activity. Exercise, regular movement, sexual activity, the usual.” Dr. Sharmell moves to grab her tablet, tapping around and gasping. “Oh my goodness. I almost forgot. So sorry. Your NIPT test results came back, and it was also clear from any signs of chromosomal disorders for the babies.” A small smile grows on her face as she looks between the parents. “And there were no Y chromosomes detected in either fetus, which means—”

“Girls,” Solana finishes, eyes watering all over again. “We’re having twin girls.”

—---------

The sounds of the clips being unloaded is muffled by the earmuffs on her ears, the recoil force something Solana is able to withstand much better than the first time she fired, and it’s an improvement noticed by Afia.

“Nice,” Afia compliments, taking note of the continued improvement in Solana’s aim. She waits for the younger woman to remove her earmuffs before applauding, “you’re a quick learner.”

Solana smiles, appreciative. “Thank you.” She looks back over at the target, seeing holes all around the dummy’s abdomen and shoulder, the areas Afia has taught her to always aim for. “You’re a great teacher.”

Afia grins, dipping her head and winking. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

In the few weeks they’ve trained and hung out together at the shooting range, Solana has learned a lot about the woman who is technically her sister-in-law. Starting with the fact that Afia is actually a retired master assassin, a member of an elite group of female assassins in her home country of Nigeria.

Learned how from a young child, like Roman, Afia was taught one thing and one thing only. 

Kill or be killed. 

That she was molded and shaped into the nonpareil killer that she is. That she was.

Because the Nigerian woman also shared how she walked away from it all, turned her back on her sisters, was disowned by her “family” the day she decided to choose love instead of violence.

How instead of choosing to kill Matteo, her intended target and assignment, she ended up falling in love with the man. A love that has withstood a tremendous amount of trials and tribulations but has remained strong and resulted in three beautiful children. 

Solana admires her in so many ways and truly appreciates all the help and insight she’s provided.

It’s helped her in ways she’s not quite sure how to explain. 

Afia looks Solana over, acknowledging, “you’re small and have a kind aura about you, Solana, but make no mistake, there’s definitely one hell of a fighter in there, too.”

Words that Solana takes to heart, that maybe just months ago, she wouldn’t agree with. She wouldn’t agree that anything about or in her comes remotely close to a fighter. But, the truth of the matter is that Solana has always been a fighter. A survivor. Overcome more adversity than anyone could ever realize.

Been burned by the fire but survived nonetheless.

She is fire. 

It’s been a long journey, largely aided to and due to her husband, due to Roman doing something as simple as making her learn how to train, how to fight, something she’s learned to love and will miss throughout this pregnancy, but something she still holds with her. 

That fight.

“Kinda hard to not at least try to catch up when surrounded by so many strong people,” Solana says with a small smile as the two women to start removing their bulletproof vests, clearly ready for a lunch break. 

Afia chuckles softly, soft eyes focused ahead, as Bautista quietly escorts them to the cafeteria. “You’ve always been strong, Solana. It just maybe took you a little longer to realize it. That’s the case with a lot of women who’ve been told what they can and can’t do, who they are, and what they are and are not.” She casts the shorter woman a meaningful gaze, “but the truth is that there is no stronger being on this planet than a woman. Do you know why?” Solana shakes her head as the two women reach the door that Bautista holds open for them. Afia chuckles and steps forward, answering clearly and with zero hesitation. “Because just as easily as we can create life—” Something dark and intentful flashes in her pretty eyes, the lingering remnants of the killer that will always lie within. “We can take it, too.”

At one point in Solana’s life, not even a year ago, such a statement would unnerve her. Maybe even scare her a bit, but there’s something about the transformative journey she’s been on all these months that has her in such a different place.

The fact that she has not only one, but two lives, growing inside of her. Two daughters. All of that has her in such a different place with a different mindset than she had just some months ago when talking with her husband about her fear of how badly she hurt Wesley. Her fear of if she unintentionally would end up killing him.

Of killing in general.

Then, Solana told Roman she didn't think she could live with herself if she ever did such a thing.

Now, she no longer feels the way.

She would prefer to never be in that situation, to never have to make that call, but the truth of the matter is that if she had to, if she had to kill to protect, she would.

For herself.

For Roman.

For her daughters.

Because not only has she made a vow that no man would ever hurt her again, she’s made the same for her girls.

For her family. 

She’ll do whatever it takes to protect them, to protect their lives.

Even if it means taking someone else’s. 

Afia and Solana continue to engage in discussion about topics regarding life and training when that damn nausea returns, prompting Solana to place down the last bit of her sandwich as she covers her mouth. 

Afia is forever perceptive and notices as such, asking, “are you alright?”

Solana nods, mustering up a small smile and trying to play it off. “Yes. The food is just.....probably not agreeing with me.”

It feels like a good answer, a good excuse. And, it is, if not for Afia being who she is. 

The other woman chuckles quietly, asking in a low voice that’s not necessarily required given Roman had the entire shooting range cleared just for the two women to train. Something he’s done since their first lesson and will continue to do.

Afia’s gaze is assessing. “How far along are you?”

Solana, to the best of her abilities, tries to hide the complete shock that shoots through her body at Afia’s cavalier question. But, it’s difficult, to say the least. “Wh–what?”

“Solana…..” Afia leans across the table, placing her hand on top of Solana’s. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but we’re technically family, if our stubborn husbands would set aside their pride and talk things out, that is.” Another bombshell as Solana is unsure if Afia is referring to Matteo and Roman as cousins or the half-brothers that they really are. “And, I know this is a rare thing in this world, something that’s almost non-existent, but I promise that you can trust me. You have my word. On my childrens' life.”

Such a strong, powerful statement that Solana doesn't take lightly. That she believes. Because if there’s one thing she’s learned about the woman sitting across from her, it’s that Afia does not play about her family. Especially her children. 

She’d never include them in something like that if she didn’t mean it.

It’s why Solana finds herself asking in a quiet voice, “how—how did you know?”

“I’m a mother myself, Solana. I’ve been there before with the morning sickness, the light headedness, the headaches.” Solana continues to sit stunned as Afia lists off some of the symptoms the wife of the Tribal Chief thought she’d hidden well enough when they hit her during her trainings. “The pregnancy glow.” 

At that, Solana’s eyes light up. “I–I have that?”

Afia nods with a warm smile. “You do.”

There’s something about that, about that acknowledgement from another woman, another mother, that means the world to Solana. 

“I’m—I’m three months,” she finally answers, confirming what Afia clearly already knows. “It’s–it’s twins.”

It’s always been discussed that the pregnancy should be kept private and will continue to be kept as such, but Solana knows that if she talks with Roman, explains how Afia knowing transpired, that he won’t be upset. 

The same way she wasn’t upset when he told her how he told Ava and Dwayne about the pregnancy.

Family.

Ava. Dwayne. Afia. 

They’re family, and Solana can only count the days until she can share her big news with the rest of her family.

“Twins?” Afia gasps, face filled with awe. “What a blessing.” Curiosity brimming, she inquires, “do you know the genders yet or…..”

“Girls,” Solana answers, hand over her belly, overcome with pride. “They’re both girls.”

“Solana….” Afia’s laughter is light and so joyful. “Congratulations. You are going to be an amazing mother.”

A compliment Solana could never tire of hearing. Reassurance she needs in some ways. “Thank you.” Clearing her throat, she wipes at her eyes, sharing, “it’s….it’s nice to finally be able to have someone to talk to about this, about….being pregnant.”

Afia laughs. More heartily this time. “Well, I am an open book for any questions you may have.” She smirks, leaning back and crossing her arms. “I do have some experience with this, you know.”

And Solana is instantly filled with such happiness, such relief in some ways, because having only her doctor and Roman talk to about her pregnancy is fine, but not enough in some ways. Because her doctor can only help from a medical standpoint, and Roman’s knowledge is obviously limited. 

So, Afia, another woman, another mother, being available to offer insight is invaluable.

In more than one way.

“Afia….” Solana is the one to sit forward, gaze focused on the woman opposite her. “You know Matteo and Roman are brothers….don’t you?” 

She has to. Her wording basically confirmed as such. 

“I do,” she answers. Nothing more.

It’s not needed though.

“Then….then I need your help with something else, too.” Because this family has already been so broken, so shattered, so unhealed. It’s time to change that. Solana is determined to make a better, cohesive, healed future for her girls and this next generation of children.

“I’m listening.”

Solana takes a deep breath, pushing aside any amount of self-doubt. “I want to help Roman and Matteo actually be brothers.” She explains, offering with just as much determination, “our children will be cousins, and I want them to have a relationship. I want them to be close, but I don’t know if that can happen if Matteo and Roman don’t form some kind of relationship.”

Form a brotherhood. 

Afia nods, clearly taking in all of the information, Solana a bit unsure if she should have waited. If maybe she came on too strong, that doubt trying to creep its way back in. And then, Afia smiles, simply asking, 

“Where should we start?”

—------------

Roman wasn’t expecting to see his wife again until later in the evening. They both had busy days, her with her training with Afia and work, as well as him with work. So, he’s more than surprised when she shows up at his office looking every bit as fine as she is in a sexy, little red piece. It’s far too easy for him to bark for everyone to get the fuck out of his office so that he’s left alone with said wife. 

But, as the room is quickly cleared, he can’t help but wonder what brings her to see him. She’s always a sight for sore eyes, but he can’t shake the feeling there’s something behind this surprise visit. 

Her smile is bashful, something similar to shyness, a bit of a thing she’ll probably always have around her husband. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His eyes move over her, a mixture of studying and admiring. Her body has always been divine, but the slight changes he’s noticed because of her pregnancy have only elevated her to a delectable category. “You alright?”

She nods. “Yeah, I just….I wanted to see you.”

Roman’s eyes flitter to something curious. “Baby, we just saw each other this morning.”

She shrugs with one shoulder and chews down on her bottom lip. “I know, but….” Solana looks around, focusing mostly on the door, almost expecting someone to walk in. To interrupt. Even though she has a feeling anyone with a brain knows not to interrupt the Tribal Chief when she’s around.

When his wife is present.

“Solana?”

Him calling her name pulls her from wandering thoughts. Solana redirects her focus back to him, trying her best to think on how to word it. In the car, on the way here, it seemed a lot more straightforward, but now standing here in front of him, it’s anything but.

“I…..” Solana breaks away from him, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it in one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. She feels his gaze never leave her as she hops up on his desk, ankles crossed. An intentional gesture. “Do—do you have a meeting soon?”

Curiosity gleams in his warm brown eyes as he walks over to her, a simple two steps with his long legs. “Define soon.” When she doesn’t answer, he skips right to the chase. “Solana, why are you really here?”

It’s not asked rudely, just something conceived from dire intrigue. 

Solana leans forward, palming the edge of his desk for support. “You know I was…..I was cleared this morning,” she reminds. An unnecessary thing given Roman was right there next to her at her appointment this morning and heard that same things that she did. “I’m…..I’m not on pelvic rest anymore…..” Her voice slides into something quiet and unsure, similar to the way she’s looking at her husband. A husband whose face is filled with knowing and realization.

“Solana….” A pained, almost rough iteration of her name as he moves closer and lifts her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Why are you here?”

There’s something about how it’s asked, the heaviness and almost need in said question, the way Solana knows that Roman knows exactly why she’s here.

And she tells him just as much.

Just, in her own way.

Solana closes her knees together to force her husband a few steps back, and when he does so, she proceeds to lay back on his desk just enough to give her the room she needs. Sliding her dress up higher, dangerously high, it’s when she slowly spreads her legs once more and Roman’s eyes flint downward that she sees it.

Sees the way his jaw clenches, his eyes gloss over with an undeniable and unmistakable amount of lust.

“Fuck, Sol…..”

Her mouth slips into something similar to a smile. “Exactly.” She leans up just enough to reach for him, to pull her between her open legs that reveal her exposed cunt and the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear. Solana glides her hands up his chest, cupping his face, as she murmurs, “I want you…..”

Roman’s eyes shut, his voice strained. “Here?” He moves his hands to her hips, tugging her forward. “I would have come home….”

“We can do it again when you get home.” It comes out before she even really realizes what she’s saying, a shocking thing that takes them both back. Solana’s cheeks heat up as she clarifies, “if—if you want.”

“You know I always want that with you,” he assures, kissing the corner of her mouth. He looks at her, lust briefly replaced with all the seriousness. “Are you sure?”

It’s a question that doesn’t even require any sort of contemplation. “Yes.”

The ‘s’ has barely left her mouth when Roman smashes his lips over hers with a hunger that’s equally yoked. Solans moves her arms around her neck, pulling him closer, savoring the feel of his full lips on hers, the intimate, intricate dance of yearning and longing. Roman slides his tongue into her mouth, evoking a yawn as she tightens her thighs around his waist.

Roman groans and drops his mouth to her neck, Solana’s lips parting, her hands to the back of his neck as he sucks on her sensitive mouth and moves his hand over her breast, palming them. She moans and arches her back, oh so sensitive to his touch, a combination of it being far too long since they could be together in this way as well as the changes her body has started to undergo due to her pregnancy.

Solana moves her hands up to slide his suit jacket off, something Roman assists her with as he tosses it off in the distance, uncaring of how it falls onto the floor. He moves to kiss her again, Solana smiling into said kiss only to gasp when Roman nudges his hand in between her legs. 

“You get so wet for me, baby…..” His tongue darts out and over his bottom lip, watching how the pleasure from just a simple touch has her head lolled back. “Lay back a bit for me, sweetheart.”

Solana doesn’t have to be told twice. Excitement fills her as she follows his request. Roman moves his hands to her hips, tugging her a bit forward on his desk as she rests on her elbows. Looking down at him, Solana watches his eyes gloss over with that returned lust, that hunger that always seems to fill him whenever they’re intimate.

“You have such a pretty pussy….” It’s the way he licks his lips and moves to his knees that has Solana’s nails scraping against the wood of his desk. 

And, he hasn’t even touched her yet.

“Keep your legs open for me.” A soft, sultry command that doesn’t need issuance, Solana already adjusting her body and scooting down the desk. But, Roman quickly switches gears, deciding on something different. 

“Fuck it.” Is the last thing Solana hears before her husband has his face buried into that sacred, dripping apex of her thighs. 

“Roman,” she shouts, immediately biting down on her bottom lip to try to keep herself quiet, a difficult task as Roman sucks on her clit with all the urgency and need in the world. “Oh my…..” Her head falls back, her fingers moving to the top of his head. Solana moans as Roman adjusts her legs, one over each shoulder, heels falling off, her calves squeezing against his back.

His thick warm tongue working that magic over her most sensitive bud has her struggling to remain quiet, to not alert anyone outside of the safe space of his office just what carnal activities are transpiring. 

He pulls away, and Solana just about loses it, “I wanna hear you, sweet girl. Stop being so quiet.”

Solana would love to look down at him, meet the dazed, lustful gaze that must fill his eyes, but head thrown back, chest heaving up and down from the sensations of it all make it hard to do so. The same way it’s damn near an arduous task to muster up a verbal reply. “It’s….your office….they’ll—shit—they’ll hear.”

Roman growls lowly and tugs her closer, Solana shooting up off the desk when he thrusts his tongue back inside her. “Ro!”

“Good,” he sounds, face immersed back into her pussy that has his beard soaked, her essence dripping and making a mess all over a $50,000 desk. “Let them.” He’s never been so unbothered. “Let them hear you’re mine.”

Solana whimpers and writhes as he continues to eat her out within an inch of her life, bringing her to kingdom come and back as she comes all over his face and into his mouth, the Tribal Chief lapping up every ounce of it like it’s his last supper. And Solana has truly gone too long without being intimate with her husband, because it’s almost naive on her part for her to think one is enough. 

No. Roman has a minimum of two to three. Two to three times he has to make her come with his mouth, some assistance from his fingers but mostly that talented tongue of his. On several occasions, he’s made it clear, in several graphic ways, just how much he enjoys this. Enjoys going down on her, so much so that Solana has learned trying to push him away as she comes down from her orgasm only makes him pull her closer, as he starts his journey to bringing her to heaven all over again.

It’s too much and yet exactly what she’s been wanting. Been needing. 

And it’s with that same need, she grabs him by the back of his head and presses their lips together, tasting herself on those same, talented, full lips when he’s finally and fully satiated. 

Solana’s hands can’t move fast enough to reach for the belt, but she’s no match for the speed in which Roman has his pants undone and her perched on the edge of the desk, ready and waiting. 

And the minute his thick mushroom head pushes into her, Solana grips his shoulders, the wince on her face more than enough to cause him to stop.

“You alright?” His voice drips with concern, Solana able to feel him pull back just enough, prompting her to shake her head. 

“I’m fine,” she assures, holding him, pulling him closer. “It’s just….it’s been a while.” Too long. “Please—please don’t stop.” Because that’s absolutely not what she needs. She needs him, and she needs him now. 

Roman still looks a bit reluctant, Solana silencing his doubts by pressing her lips against his and maneuvering her hand in between their bodies to reposition him. “Please….” 

Roman obliges, Solana’s hand dropping and moving to grip his shirt as he carefully inches himself into her. She bites down on his shoulder, uncaring of the lipstick stain now on his shirt. “Oh my God…..”

It’s a bit of a burning sensation, somewhat painful, something similar to their first time, but it’s expected. Solana expected there to be some difficulty taking all of him again after such a long period of time. Doesn’t make her want him any less though. Want this any less.

He kisses her temple, asking. “You okay?”

A soft smile and sincere answer. “I’m okay.” Because it’ll never not move her with how attentive and caring he always is, even outside of their sex life, but it somehow seems more prominent in this aspect of their relationship.

Solana can absolutely tell and feel when he’s completely inside of her, an overwhelming sensation that’s been missed even more than she realized. She squeezes his shoulders, whining almost, “move….”

Again, always wanting to assess her comfort, Roman looks down at her, studying her face. Needing that reassurance, and the minute he receives it, Solana is already gasping, feeling him pull out just enough to slide back into her, the tip of his long, thick dick pressing that spot inside of her.

“Yes,” she moans, the pleasure easily and quickly overpowering any amount of discomfort. “Ro….”

His thrusts intensify by the seconds that pass, the slick feeling of her pussy, hugging and tugging his dick with all the need. “Like that, baby?”

“Yes.” She cries, overwhelmed in the best sort of way. “Just—just like that, oh—”

Solana moans when Roman moves his hand under her ass, lifting her up just enough to switch and change up the angle. God, he feels so good.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” Roman’s voice is heavy and deep with need, his mouth traveling the perimeter of his  face. “Missed being inside this pussy.”

Solana feels numb, feels so many, too many things to say anything. Can only continue to lock her ankles above Roman’s ass as he fucks into her, his hips thrusting against and into her, driving her delirious in some ways. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Sol.” Roman tips her forward once more, eager and needing to dig into her, to continue to feel her come undone around him. “Good ass pussy gripping my shit like this.”

“You’re so deep.” It’s impossible how much he fills her, the fullness that consumes her, the pleasure that he brings her. “Mmm feels amazing, papi.”

“Fuck, Sol,” Roman curses, squeezing her ass, pumping into her harder, deeper. “If you weren’t already pregnant….”

Solana smiles as he buries his face into her neck, his mouth ghosting over the collarbone of her fully healed tattoo. The tattoo for him. A reminder of her love and devotion to him.

It’s that devotion that fills her and drives her to make him look at her, her hands cupping his face, “mine.”

His eyes shut, his forehead pressed against hers, vowing, “yours.” She clenches around him, both nearly coming in that same moment. “Always yours.”

Solana gasps, intakes sharply as he claims her mouth in a kiss that’s broken by her moan, loud and heavy. “I love you,” she whimpers, nails digging into his clothed shoulders. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too, baby,” he murmurs, never once stopping his delicious thrusts, his determination to bring her over the edge, to take her to that wonderful place only he knows the way to is unwavering. And with each thrust, with each reminder of his love and devotion for her, Solana’s caring for who, if anyone, overhears dwindles.

She doesn’t care.

This is her husband.

The father of her children.

The Tribal Chief, and she, his wife. 

His a faletua.

The Wife of The Tribal Chief.

She can do whatever she damn well pleases. 

And she does, as she comes, still uncaring of anyone hearing her moans, of how vocal she is at how good her husband makes her feel. The way she savors in the way he once again buries himself into her neck, groping her big breast as he too reaches his climax, emptying his seed all into her. Solana clutches her legs around him, wanting all of it. Everything he has, she wants.

In all the ways. 

She holds onto him, enjoying the feel of his big, strong body leaning, resting into hers. She kisses his temple, again reaffirming her love for him.

And after a few minutes of silence, he speaks, voice low with lingering need. “You need to come visit me every day.”

She giggles, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “I just might.” He’s still buried inside of her, growing soft, but she swears she feels his dick jerk at her reply. “My….drive has been…..high.” 

Because, it has. Because while Solana has completely understood the need for pelvic rest and would do so for the rest of her pregnancy to keep her babies safe and healthy if necessary, the lifting of said restriction is something she’s also very much looked forward to the past few weeks. Especially as her sex drive has spiked ten levels. Another pregnancy symptom.

One she’s elated to no longer have to suppress. 

The implication with her pronunciation of the word drive makes Roman look up, his gaze filled with desire and baseline level of excitement. “I can take care of that.”

She smiles, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips, whispering, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, closing the gap between them, leaning over her body, laying her back on the desk. Solana giggles against his mouth, already feeling—in more ways than one—where this is headed.

Would be headed.

“....I keep trying to tell you, Roman don’t care if I go—OH MY GOD!”

Solanna’s scream of horror is just about what and what with Jimmy’s as he quickly scrambles to shut the door. Solana tries to hide her face into her husband’s chest, her husband who barks at his cousin to “get the fuck out!”

Embarrassment fills her as the two of them move to separate, Roman looking every bit as irritated—or enraged—as he feels. Solana’s hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with continued horror, the sound of Jimmy outside the door a soundtrack to this quite unexpected scene.

“Alicia! Get the bleach! And the Lysol! And the CDC! I need one of them yellow suits they had in Monster’s Inc!  

—----------

Roman was in a decent mood after starting the day off with Solana’s OB-GYN appointment and was in an even better mood when his wife surprised him with a visit. A visit that resulted in them being intimate intimate again after far too long. But, that better mood was immediately squashed the moment his dumbass cousin interrupted them, the same cousin who sits at the same conference table as himself, Dwayne, Matteo, and the Wise Man, still going on and on about what happened a good two hours ago.

“Don’t make no damn sense,” Jimmy scowls, randomly spraying Lysol around him, setting the personal sized can on the table. “Ya’ll couldn’t go somewhere else?”

Roman’s expression is every bit as bored as his tone. “It’s my office, Jimmy.” He lifts his eyes, voice even as he reminds. “I’ll fuck my wife all over that space if I want to.”

It’s then that Matteo gives a look of understanding. “Is that what you’re so upset about?” He asks Jimmy, scoffing and sharing. “I’ve done the same with my wife plenty of times in my office. It’s normal.”

“And, I don’t have a wife, but Lord knows I’ve done some things in my office as well.” Dwayne smirks, leaning back into his chair. 

Jimmy makes a face, mocking the two men. “This ain’t about ya’ll!” He dismisses them, pointing to himself. “This is about me. I am a victim!”

Matteo looks toward his brother and asks in Italian. “Is he always like this?”

Roman rolls his shoulders, answering in the same language. “Unfortunately.”

“I mean, that’s why they make bedrooms. Ya’ll could have done that shit at ya’ll damn house,” Jimmy continues to object, shaking his head, nose turned up. “It was like walking in on my little sister or something.”

Roman rolls his eyes, suddenly curious. “You really think we’ve only had sex in our bedroom at our house?”

At one point, the answer was yes. When they first started being intimate, Solana still growing into her comfortability with sex, yes. It was limited to the bedroom, as that was her comfort level. But now? Especially in the days and weeks following her return from treatment? Roman has easily made his wife come on every available space in that damn house. 

A realization that has Jimmy just about ready to throw up. “You mean I been contaminated?” His eyes are wide and filled with horror as he lifts the can of Lysol, spraying much more than necessary, evoking a fit of heavy, violent coughs from the asthmatic Wise Man. “I’m suing!”

Dwayne and Matteo share a chuckle at the ever dramatic Jimmy, while Roman decides it’s time to switch gears. 

It’s time to get to business.

He sits forward, asking in an unmistakably irritated voice. “Where are your brothers and dad, Jimmy?”

It’s a shift in tone and energy that makes all the men sit up straight, even Jimmy, who answers, “I don’t know, man. They knew to be here.”

“But, they’re not,” Roman finishes. He glances at the expensive watch on his wrist, frustration growing exponentially seeing they’re almost 15 minutes late. 

Unacceptable. 

“Wise Man.”

Paul stands up almost immediately. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Call—” Roman’s directive is interrupted by the arrival of the missing parties themselves. In walks in Rikishi, followed by his sons, Solo and Jey. 

All wear unreadable expressions with the exception of Jey who looks annoyed, and that only pisses Roman off more.

To show up late to a meeting called by the Tribal Chief is one thing. To show up late and deepen that disrespect by looking irritated is a whole other level of contempt.

Roman rolls his shoulders and tries to settle himself by focusing on the objective of said meeting.

Even if that same objective is most likely going to exacerbate an already tense situation.

Once everyone is settled, Wise Man naturally steps into the role of mediator. 

“Gentlemen, thank you for your attendance today,” he starts out, Roman partially listening, mostly focused on how Jey is focused on the wall of windows across the room rather than the discussion that’s about to change everything. Like, he doesn't care.

It’s infuriating. 

“Your Tribal Chief has called this meeting today for a very important reason given the….less than unfortunate events that have transpired over the past few weeks and months.” Unfortunate is one way to put it. “Now, please understand, your Tribal Chief has thought long and hard on how to proceed and respond to these events in a way that is fair and just, but still—”

“You’re all out.”

Roman’s interruption is short, blunt, and concise. A simple sentence with a hefty weight behind it.

Rikishi is the first to respond. He sits forward, removing his glasses. “Excuse me?”

Solo and Jey exchange confused expressions. 

“You’re all hereby removed from my cabinet and relieved of any current, higher up Bloodline duties,” Roman continues his explanation, also sitting forward, studying the non-verbals of each man. “Solo, you’re also removed from Solana’s security detail. You and Jey will be joining the trainers and training new recruits. Rikishi, your primary task will be whatever the Elders assign you with. Just know it won’t be coming from me.”

“Is this a joke?” It’s the first thing to come out of Jey’s mouth as he looks over at Jimmy who’s also just as confused. An expected thing given this was a decision made between Roman, Dwayne, and even Matteo, given how closely connected he’s come to Bloodline business. Especially as he was privy to Jey’s latest and last outburst. “You gotta be fucking with me?”

Roman’s voice is even and challenging. “Do I look like I’m joking?” A rhetorical question to a stupid ass question.

“Roman, this is madness,” Rikishi objects, his voice also even as he looks between his two fellow ousted sons. “How can you—”

“You all have disrespected me, disrespected my reign, my leadership in one way or another.” He’s tempted to add in ‘my wife’, but ultimately goes against it, already knowing they’ll try to say this is personal. Even if, in some ways, it is. “I don’t stand for that shit from anyone.” Not even family. “I’ve killed for less.”

And, they all know this. 

“Fucking training?” Jey sneers, slamming his fist on the table. “You demoting me to a goddamn trainer?”

Roman growls, reminding, “you’re lucky demoting you is all I’m doing.” The Tribal Chief doesn’t hesitate to remind his hot headed cousin of the straw that broke the camel’s back. “That shit you pulled at the party was fucking unacceptable, Jey. Acting a fucking fool on neutral territory in the presence of Escobar and his men? You should have fucking known better.”

Jey responds by jumping up out of his seat, chair falling back onto the floor. “This some bullshit, Roman, and you know it!”

Jimmy also stands up, moving over to try to calm down his brother as Dwayne breaks his silence. “Your temper makes you a liability, Jey. We can’t have that.”

“You either learn to control it, or it’ll control you,” Matteo advises, studying the way Solo remains surprisingly calm in the face of upsetting news. It’s….interesting, to say the least.

Jey growls, “man, you stay the fuck out of this! You ain’t even fucking family!”

“That’s enough, Jey,” Jimmy tries to advise, even though Jey is clearly past the point of conversing. “Roman, this ain’t…..this ain’t a forever thing, right?”

Roman feels all eyes on him as he answers without hesitation. “We’ll see.”

It’s only then Solo gives some indication of his true feelings. Rage. Slowly, he stands, and as he does so, Matteo sits forward, as if ready and waiting. But, Rikishi places a hand on his son’s shoulder. The two share a look before the Elder responds, “is this really what you want to do, Uce?”

No. Truth be told, it’s not really what Roman wants to do, because while he’s always butted heads with Jey at various points over the years, like he’d told Solana that one time, he knows—or knew—the twins always had/have his back. And vice versa. Knew they’d die for him the same way he’d die for them. 

But, things have changed. Feelings have changed. Whatever lied dormant all these years has resurfaced, and Roman has no idea if, and when, it’ll settle.

And what he ultimately wants to avoid is the other alternative. The one that he and Jey utilized years prior. 

Tribal Combat.

Something Roman was victorious in at that time, but not something he wants to have for a second round. Because the stakes are higher this round, much higher. Because while Roman was simply allowed to defeat his cousin and call it resolved the first time. The second time, he won’t be as lucky. 

This time, with everything that’s happened, Jey’s public display of disrespect, Roman can’t just defeat Jey in combat. 

He’d have to kill him.

It would be to the death.

And while Roman isn’t sure he could ever admit this aloud to anyone, not even Solana, it doesn’t negate the fact that deep down, he’s not sure if he could do it.

He doesn't know if he could kill Jey, and not because of lack of ability but lack of want.

He doesn’t want to kill Jey.

So, that’s why this route is the route he must take, and it’s why he answers calmly, “yes.”

And, it’s with that, his decision is made. Final and without appeal options. Roman motions for the Wise Man to see the now three disgraced men out of his office, his flushed face advisor moving to point and usher the four men out.

Jimmy leaves with his brothers and father.

It’s only when he’s alone with his cousin and half brother, Roman sees Dwayne nod, advising, “you made the right decision, brotha’.”

“You made the only decision,” Matteo agrees. 

Roman looks away, silent and questioning. 

Because while the satisfaction of knowing one problem has been handled should settle the Tribal Chief, the nagging feeling that another entirely different one has just been created is something he can’t push away. 

—-----------

It’s a battle of senses. Roman’s sense of smell fights with his auditory system as he steps foot into the home. He smells the delicious aroma of whatever his beautiful wife has prepared for them this evening, and he also hears the music that’s playing through the speaker system throughout the home.

A small smile falls on his face as he walks gingerly toward the room where the music seems the loudest and the scent of dinner—and more—lures him. 

Roman proceeds gingerly when he’s in the vicinity of seeing her, but her not seeing him. The smile is conjoined with a warm feeling that only she evokes as he realizes not only is she singing along—he loves to hear her sing—but she’s playfully dancing around the kitchen as well. 

Roman maintains his safe distance to secure his ability to observe. To see the big smile on her beautiful face as she moves around the kitchen, one of those god-awful shirts Jimmy has made for him every Christmas on her frame that Solana stumbled across and has commandeered for herself ever since. And with her is Dulce, tail wagging, jumping up on her hind legs every so often as she “dances” with her mom.

But, it’s the way she occasionally brings her hand to her stomach, lovingly, protectively, that moves Roman the most. The way her eyes briefly close, clearly taking in this moment of pure bliss and long-deserved happiness. 

A similar feeling for him as well.

This. This is what he needs. Her. Her light. Her love. The balm she is for him on even his hardest days, and today is definitely up there on the list of difficult times.

You got a fast car

Is it fast enough so we could fly away?

Still gotta make a decision

Leave tonight, or live and die this way

A brief thought crosses Roman’s mind, an idea that prompts him to step away and head for his office. Hitting the light, he moves over to the bookcase set where his Canon sits. Years of experience allows him to switch the lenses and adjust the settings in a matter of minutes, allowing him to return without alerting his wife of his presence.

He starts with photos, snapping and capturing this moment in still shots. But then, the desire to bottle all of it—audio and video included, fills him, prompting him to switch to the record option. Roman watches her through the viewfinder, admiration abundant. 

So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights laid out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder

And I, I had a feeling that I belonged

I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

Solana spins around and laughs at the sight of Dulce also spinning around, but it’s also in that moment she becomes aware of the fact that she’s not alone.

Solana shouts in a mixture of surprise and fear, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Roman!” It’s the initial shock of seeing he’s present followed by the awareness that he’s also recording. “No. Ro, I look terrible!” She tries to hide her face, prompting him to remind her of what he’ll gladly spend the rest of his life doing.

“You look beautiful.” His compliment grants him her dropping her hands just enough to give away the fact that she’s hiding a smile. “You always do.”

Solana doesn’t say anything, just nervously darts her eyes up and down, asking, “how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” Roman stops the video and lowers the camera to walk over to her. Solana leans up and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him, as he murmurs, "missed you today.”

Because, he has. Any moment not spent with her and instead spent dealing with bullshit just intensifies that ache and borderline empty feeling he has whenever she’s not around.

Her smile is wry and playful. “You just saw me this afternoon.”

Roman absolutely picks up on the fact that she’s teasing him from his response to seeing her this afternoon, prompting him to remind her, “I did more than just see you, baby.”

“Roman!” She squeals when his hand drops to her bountiful ass, giving a squeeze. “Stop it.”

He’ll do no such thing, but he will allow her to bring him over to the stove. One hand holding his, Solana uses the other to stir around whatever is in the pot. She then grabs another smaller spoon, scooping up some and lifting it to his mouth. “Try this.”

He does so, easily. It only takes a second for the taste to set in. “It’s delicious,” he compliments. “But, everything you make is good as fuck, Sol. You know this.”

Her cheeks redden, as she explains, “it’s a new recipe I was trying. Got it from Afia. It’s Nigerian. Something called Gizdodo,” she says the name with uncertainty, sheepishly admitting, “I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“Solana, I love everything you make.” He loves everything about her, including and especially her excellent culinary skills. “Except that damn soup.”

Solana rolls her eyes, taking the spoon to toss it in the sink. “Roman, don’t start with that.”

“It’s not that it’s not good,” he defends. “It’s good as hell. There’s just nothing to it, and I’m hungry an hour later.”

Solana rolls her eyes and moves over to him, hands on his chest. “Ro, you’re hungry an hour later even when I don’t fix you soup.”

“Yeah, but I’m hungrier when it’s soup.”

Shaking her head, she goes to take the camera from him, pointing out of the kitchen. “Go change, so we can eat. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Roman answers by kissing her temple and lightly slapping her ass, prompting her to giggle as she playfully pushes him away. Dulce barks from the floor, clearly wanting his attention as well. Chuckling, he kneels down and pets her. “Hey girl,” he gives her a brief belly rub before sending her to resume her stalking of Solana by the stove. 

15 minutes later, he’s out of his work clothes, dressed in sweats and a short sleeved shirt, finding his wife still by the stove. He realizes she has the same song as before playing clearly on repeat.

Roman moves behind her, arms around her waist as she leans back into him, explaining softly, “my mother loved this song.” A quiet admission as he kisses her temple in a comforting gesture. “She—she used to play the original all the time while she cooked, and I used to dance with her, and in those moments, everything was fine. It was just….just me and her, and we were happy…..I was happy.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just allows her to speak and share freely. He knows she's been working with Gail on processing her confusing feelings towards her mom and would never do anything to make her feel invalidated. Hate. Grief. Love.

It's all valid.

Her eyes shut, and she sighs heavily. “We’re not going to be like them, Ro.” Solana turns her head to look up at him. “We’re not going to be like our parents.”

It’s one of the easiest things he could agree to, and some of it, he can’t deny, is due to the conversations he’s had with Lita about the very same thing. “No. We’re not.”

She smiles, but it’s small, weighed down with memories of the past. He can relate entirely. “They’re gonna have a childhood.” She turns around again, so her head remains tilted back into his strong chest. Roman’s hand snakes down to her belly, protective placement. “A happy one…”

He’s in agreement. 1000%, but there’s something about her sentiment, a combination of all the conversations they’ve had the past few weeks that has him sharing something he’s gone from briefly contemplating to seriously considering. 

“Sol….” She looks back up at him, expression expectant. Roman lifts his hand to her cheek, index and thumb gently tipping her chin. “Let’s move.”

Naturally, she’s confused, her smile almost reluctant. “W…what?”

“Not out of state,” he clarifies. Though, if possible, he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to that either. Away from all these damn people. “A new house.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “A new house?”

The shock in her voice makes him chuckle. He nods. “Yes, baby. A new house.” The hand on her stomach moves around in a small circle. “Let’s build something. You tell me what you want in it, and I’ll have it made.” Solana continues to look astounded, Roman adding in a small voice. “A nice backyard for them….”

Solana turns around, forcing his hands down and to her hips. “You’re….you’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he answers. Roman lifts his hand to the small of her back, further explaining as he looks around. “This place is mine, and it’s been mine for years. It’s yours too, but it’s got more me than you, and I want it to be us.” He moves to cup her face, asking gently, “does that make sense?”

Because this house has been solely Roman's for so long, holds so many memories and experiences that no longer represent the future he wants. This was his bachelor home.

And, that's not what he wants anymore.

He wants a family home.

He wants to give his wife the home she wants and his daughters the kind of home that they deserve.

“It does.” Solana slides her hands up his chest, locking them behind his neck, her lips curving into a wide smile. “We can really build our own house?”

He chuckles. “We can do anything you want, Solana.”

She giggles, scoffing in disbelief. “Then….” She bounces a little against him, a clear sign of excitement. “Then let’s build a house.” Roman smiles as she moves to hug him, gasping and asking, “wait, I can design my own kitchen?”

“I’m certainly not going to do it,” he answers, chuckling when she slaps his arm. He watches how delight fills her eyes. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she muses, sharing with continued elation. “I can have a kosher kitchen!”

“I have no idea what that means, but sure.”

Solana rolls her eyes and hugs him again, murmuring into his chest, “thank you.” And before he can remind her once again that she never has to thank him for anything he does for her, she peers up at him with those mischievous eyes. “Gotta start preparing for our six kids, huh?”

She’s quick to move away, giggling and opening cabinets to pull out plates. “Don’t start with that shit again, Solana.” Her laughter continues, a stark contrast to the serious expression on his face. He’s almost certain that one sentence alone has spiked his blood pressure. But, it pales in comparison to what his numbers must be when he catches onto something. “Did you just say six?”

—---------

His breathing is heavy, her fingers gliding up and across the sheen of sweat across his back. Roman continues to pulse inside of her, coming down from yet another shattering orgasm, every drop of his cum depleted inside of her addictive pussy. 

Solana kisses his temple, evoking a contented sigh. Carefully, Roman lowers one of her legs from off his shoulder and removes himself from her, plopping down on the bed beside her. Seconds later, she’s moving on top of him, laying against him.

“Ya know…..” Solana pants, clearly trying to catch her breath. “For someone who claims he doesn’t want a lot of kids, you sure do love doing the thing with me that can give us all those kids.”

He scoffs, explaining, “you’re already pregnant. I don’t need to be careful.”

Curious, Solana inquires, “and when I’m not pregnant anymore?”

Roman shrugs, continuing to glide his fingers up and down her arm. “Then, we’ll be careful.”

A scowl falls on her face, Solana unwilling to hide her displeasure or her stance. “I’m not getting on birth control. I don’t want to.” And she knows he won’t make her either. Will respect that decision and her. “So we start using protection–

Roman is immediately shutting that shit down. “I’m not using condoms.” 

Solana smiles knowingly, burying her face into his chest. 

No condoms. 

No birth control.

She’s certain she’ll end up pregnant again in a matter of months after the twins are born.

Roman will just have to deal with the “consequences” of them being so sexually active without any barriers to protect them from pregnancy. 

He’ll be fine. 

She snuggles even closer to him, dwelling in the comfort that always comes with being pressed against his body. He always makes her feel so safe when they’re cuddled together, but there’s something about this time that deters that. A feeling that nudges at her, prevents her from doing so, from getting comfortable, because it feels so obvious.

It’s why she sits up and looks down at her husband, asking, “what’s wrong?”

Solana is expecting him to deflect. She knows he’s been trying hard, working hard in therapy, to be more open with her, but it’s still a struggle. So, it partially surprises her when he answers, “I need to talk to you about something.” 

And right away, she knows she’s not going to like whatever he’s about to share. “O—okay.”

Roman’s hesitation is visible and palpable. “I know….I know you want this pregnancy to be as normal as possible, and I want that too. I want to be able to give you that—”

“And you can,” she cuts in, anxiety rising with the way her chest is starting to feel a little tight. She thought they already discussed this. “You have.”

His eyes briefly dart to the side of the room. “Years ago, when there was….a protocol when the wife of the Tribal Chief was pregnant. She....she would spend the pregnancy….away.”

Yeah…..Solana knew she wasn’t going to like this conversation. 

At all.

She sits up completely. “Roman, what are you saying?” His silence is damning. “Are—are you sending me away?”

“No.” A relieving answer preceded by a stressful follow-up. “Not…not unless I have t—Solana.” He stops mid-explanation as she kicks the sheets off and moves to get out of the bed. “Sol—”

“No,” she cuts him off, voice icy and slicing. Solana looks over at him, face filled with confusion and distress. “I can’t—I can’t believe you would even suggest that.”

Roman also sits up, running his hand over his face. He knew this wouldn’t be something she would enjoy hearing, but it’s something she needs to hear regardless. “Baby—”

He tries to reach for her, only for Solana to jerk away from him as she rises out of the bed. He ultimately decides to let her leave, closing his eyes when she slams the door to the bathroom. 

“Fuck….”

Again, it’s not that he expected Solana to be thrilled about this, especially as they’d discussed just this morning just how excited she was about all of this. About experiencing this pregnancy with him, and he can’t deny that those confused feelings he was experiencing about said pregnancy at the beginning have started to gradually shift to something likened with excitement.

That there was a sense of joy that filled him hearing confirmation that Solana is in fact pregnant with twin girls. Just like their dreams.

Dreams that have slowly been becoming a reality, but there’s also a darkness to his reality. One that places Solana in a tremendous amount of danger once news of her pregnancy starts to reach the wrong ears. 

And while there is some hint of decreasing that danger by “leaking” the fact that she’s carrying girls and not a boy, so not an heir, that’s something Roman could never be okay with. Nor does it take away the danger of her pregnancy being “public,” because her pregnancy, no matter how they could try to spin it, just puts an even bigger target on her head.

And, it’s that target that he finds him struggling with. It’s been there since the day she became his wife, but the fact that it’s even bigger, or will be, is unsettling to him. It’s why he’s found himself thinking of ways to minimize that risk, and the biggest, possibly best way, would be to have Solana spend the rest of the pregnancy in hiding of sorts. 

He’d maybe even consider letting her go to Mexico. Let her be around with family. But clearly, she’s not okay with any of that. 

At all. 

And, it’s not as if he’s thrilled about it either, because while he’s still working through feelings about being a dad, there’s a small part of him that feels a sense of grief at possibly not being able to experience that with her. Her first pregnancy. Their first pregnancy.

But, that grief is largely outweighed by his desire to protect her. Protect them.

He’ll do anything to keep his family safe.

Anything.

The sound of the shower running alerts Roman to the fact that Solana won’t be coming back to bed anytime soon, which is why he finds himself kicking the covers back, finding and sliding on his boxers and stepping over to the bathroom. 

He’s not surprised to find the knob unlocked, already knowing she just wanted space in the moment, not to not be around him at all.

It’s why he quietly closes the door behind him and walks over to the shower, seeing the backside silhouette of her nude frame standing under the running water. Roman removes his boxers and is careful, meticulous in the way he opens the shower door to join her without actually disturbing her.

Naturally, he moves to stand beside her, his arms around her, gently turning her around to face him.

“Shit.” Roman knew he upset her, expected as such. He just didn’t know how much he upset her, because the water droplets swimming down her face, trickling from her bangs can’t hide the fact that she’s clearly crying. 

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he’s immediately apologizing, kissing her forehead, eyes shutting. “Please don’t cry.” Because she’s the only person on this earth that he actually cares about upsetting. It’s the last thing he ever wants to do.

The sound of her sniffling is a punch to his gut, but not as painful as what fills him hearing her soft, quiet, desperate response. “Please don’t send me away.” He looks down, meeting her teary, scared eyes. She shakes her head. “I can’t—I can’t do this without you.”

Sentiments she’s expressed before, especially after her nightmare a few weeks back, but something she obviously feels the need to reiterate. 

“I’ll—I’ll do whatever you want me to do, but—but not that.” She swallows, her voice shifting into something more determined, fierce almost. “I am with you. Always. No matter what.” She moves her hands up to his face, whispering, “to the end, Ro.” Head tilted, lips pressed together, she asks in a quiet voice. “Okay?”

Roman nods. He won’t risk further upsetting her. She can’t afford it. Not…not in her condition. 

He leans down to kiss her before reaching for the wash cloth laid across the shelf and motioning for her to turn around so he can wash her. An act of love and affection that she reciprocates for him before they both find their way back to bed, Solana sleeping peacefully atop him.

But, it’s short lived sleep for Roman who eventually escapes the sanctuary of their bed and trades it for the seat outside on their balcony.

Something....something is off.

He can't put his hand on on it, but he feels it. The situation with Jey, Rikishi, and Solo could be it, probably is a large part of it, why Roman can't shake this uneasy feeling.

It could be Cosa Nostra related, because things have been quiet on that end. Perhaps too quiet. But, Dwayne and Matteo continue to reiterate that the few men they trust back in Italy continue to keep them in the loop, and nothing has raised alarm.

Matteo has even been ever transparent regarding the reports he sends back to the Administration regarding Roman's activity. All truthful. Nothing damning.

But, all of that is what makes it so difficult for the Tribal Chief, because a tangible issue is a solvable issue. An invisible one is nothing but a possibility that may be nothing.

Or may be something.

And Roman knows he would have to have something to justify sending Solana away. She would need a clear answer, an explanation as to why he's doing the very thing she begged him not to do. And telling her it's because he has a hunch that something is off simply won't cut it.

Roman sits there for a good half hour, thinking, overthinking, and something beyond that even. He goes over it all, from the moment he first met his wife to the moment just a few hours ago where he agreed to her request. He evaluates it all, not from Roman, the man in love with his wife, but from The Tribal Chief, the protector.

The warrior and fighter who recognizes the one and ultimate goal in this situation. 

Protection.

Because he lost his family once before.

He won’t lose them again. 

Eventually, Roman walks back into the room. He moves over to the side of the bed where Solana is on her side, sleeping peacefully, completely oblivious to the decision her husband has come to. 

He crouches down beside her, watching her, studying her face before his attention drifts downward. To her stomach.

Wordlessly, he reaches a hand to place it atop the thin sheet, settling it atop her belly, those damn feelings intensifying all over again.

“I don’t know a lot about any of this.” Something he’s gradually coming to grips with with every day that passes where he learns something new about the two tiny human beings growing inside of his wife. Roma’s eyes fill with something that can only be likened to dedication. “But….one thing I do know how to do is how to keep you safe.” His voice is low, whispered, drenched with vulnerability that would never leave the sanctuary of this space. “And, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and her safe.” His eyes fill with a sense of dread, regret, and immense determination. “Even if she ends up hating me for it.”

[unpretty]

what is damian like in the sorrowverse if he is in the "doesn't resemble canon at all because i think canon events are stupid and i'm not doing all that" zone? all of your batkid characterizations are so goddamn good even when (sometimes because) they diverge heavily from canon i am willing to accept anything you put in front of me. i would gladly wait years to see how you would portray damian. and cass cain.

the thing about me is that the first time someone mentioned Damian to me i was like, "wait, the guy from The Kingdom? Ibn al Xu'ffasch? the guy who dismembers his grandpa? that guy?" and at no point have i really shaken the idea of damian as a guy who shows up as a whole adult man with his own thing going on. r'as al ghul wanted a batclone and talia went along with it for personal reasons before going on the run. and then they stayed on the run. for like twenty years. damian ends up a lot like what bruce would be in a world where martha survived, which is to say an insufferable mama's boy who can kill you. bruce is going to be an old-ass man before he has to deal with that trauma because i want to kick that can down the road for as long as i can.

i'm not really into writing batman stories that involve no-shit child soldiers and the accompanying horrific trauma so i prefer to just. not deal with all that. for similar reasons i wouldn't even know where to begin with cass cain and have not touched her at all.

there's a lot of characters with backstories all wrapped up in big dramatic crossover events where gotham is stolen by joker bats and turned into a hunger games battle royale where everyone kills batman and then there are six batmen and they all team up to fight the joker batman until finally the real batman shows up to reveal he faked his own death like daddy warbucks after FDR died. a talking gorilla is there and he dies tragically when gotham goes back to normal because no one wants to deal with the talking gorilla but it turned out at least one writer really liked the talking gorilla so they bring him back five years later as a robot that looks like a sexy boy and also he's visibly catholic now. and meanwhile i'm over here writing a fic where batman takes harley quinn grocery shopping. it's difficult to bridge the gap there sometimes, is what i mean.

[tainbocuailnge]

the thing with "rendering" and "polishing" and "cleaning up" your art is that the human brain actually loves it when there's some ambiguity in an image to use its pattern recognition on. years, decades, centuries of artists joking and complaining about how the sketch looked better than the finished thing, all because the sketch had that sweet unpolished ambiguity.

"rendering" is a tempting thing to chase because it is very easy to identify and quantify, including and especially for people who don't know all that much about art. "realism" in visual art is a metric that people grasp pretty much instinctively. you can tell the amount of detail something is rendered in regardless of if you can tell whether rendering this amount of detail meaningfully contributed to the work.

and i think the relative commercial popularity of "realistic" "clean" "polished" styles is because statistically a lot of people just don't engage with art all that often or intently, so their looking-at-art skills aren't developed enough to see how and why something more stylized or abstracted or indeed "unfinished" would be interesting or impressive. the amount and realism of the details rendered is easier to identify and quantify than the composition and color use and movement and so on. this is why we keep being presented with video games with ultra HD textures and hyperadvanced ray tracing and so on that look like shit, too. these are visual qualities that have numbers attached in a way that "style" does not.

that other post mentioning that specifically fanartists seem to often fall into this trap of exchanging a dynamic loose style for a stiff and polished one is, i think, because these fanartists are hobbyists, amateurs if you will, who at some point stop further developing their ability to look at art, and thereby their ability to quantify their own progress as an artist. technical skill is the easiest measure of quality, and if you don't develop an eye for the more abstract aspects of art, you won't be able to see your skill or lack thereof at employing those aspects. if your primary engagement with visual arts is looking at images of the guy from the show, then you don't necessarily /need/ a better eye for art to get your enjoyment, but without it you won't become better at making art either.

also, you can talk about "making weirder art" all you want, but that "weird" art is inherently in conversation with "normal" art by virtue of being called weird. what does it mean for art to be "weird"? if "normal" art is this type of technically skilled but visually uninteresting art, does that mean "weird" art is technically unskilled? there exist plenty of painstakingly rendered surrealist works. does it mean that any art that is visually engaging is "weird"? extremely traditional schools of art, the kind of classics that most anyone can agree are "real" art, the baseline of what should be considered art, are classics for a reason. what are you really saying when you call art "weird"?

thinking about all of this is, of course, a surefire way to become a pretentious elitist.

[non-un-topo]

Yo I'm sorry, not to be all "kids these days" yet again, but why are >20 year olds so immediately rude to each other and their peers? I work with this age range, because I work at a university, and I have older friends in uni as well who are always around students this age range, and it's just a constant back-and-forth of insults but with "I'm kidding haha!!" added on the end. Like a tiktok comment section, they're so quick to make fun of someone and call them bestie in the same sentence.

I know it has something to do with social media being a barrier when talking to people, it's easier to be mean / you can't gauge people's emotions or tone properly / peer pressure to "jokingly" bully people, etc etc I've heard it all.

I do feel like instagram is notorious for this kind of behaviour. Every comment section I open is just so fucking mean for zero reason. Someone will post a reel about a random topic and almost every comment is just people immediately making fun of their appearance or voice or what-have-you. I don't know when cyber-bullying became unserious.

And I know it's not just >20 year olds. I know that. I can't just blame the youths. But also, that's what I'm seeing. I'm just commenting on what I'm seeing with my own eyes.

It's not fun or really funny for anyone. Fucking be nice to each other, you little assholes.

[whiskis]

Monster smash (part 2)

A/N: Hi lovelies! Welcome to this new-ish blog, I thought a good way to move was to post part 2 of this story y’all loved so much.

Multiple monsters x fem!reader || sfw, funny situation

You wake up to the sound of voices. Many voices, some grumbly and some other very deep, inhumanly deep. But there’s also clicking sounds, like the ones little forest creatures make when you get too close. You don’t even remember what happened. Did you faint?

“Honey… Are you all right?” A deep voice asks as your eyes flutter open, they feel incredibly heavy. There’s a lady with too many teeth in front of you… She’s scary enough that you close your eyes instantly, breathing hard as you try not to panic. And then the memories come back rushing through your mind.

The monster smash!

The person in front of you with thousands of pointy teeth is… the grocery lady! Shit, shit, shit… What did you get yourself into? Your brain is running so fast you feel almost dizzy, your body threatening to shut up again, but you breathe through your nose until you feel calm enough to re-open your eyes. The lady is not there anymore, but the tech dragon from your building is.

They are staring down at you with slow blinking eyes and a tiny smile, their nostrils flaring as if smelling your emotions. Can they do that? Can dragons smell emotions? Shit, what if they can? What are they able to smell? Can they smell your fear? Shit, could they smell that you didn’t shower for a week back when you had a big project at work? Oh, shit… Now you have to rethink about all the encounters you had with all of them.

“Pull back, you big dragon, let the lad have some space!” Someone else reprimands, pulling the dragon away with a chuckle. You only see a big gray hand but you can’t see who it belongs to, they move too fast to be caught by human eyes. What the fuck?

How can this be possible? How the fuck did you find yourself in that situation? Surrounded by monsters in a speed dating event… For fucks sake what was even your life anymore?

You try to sit up, but your brain is not agreeing with that decision and you fall back. You brace for impact, but you don’t land on the hard floor, but a soft surface that reminds you a lot to somebody’s lap. You look behind you and stare into thin vertical pupils that make your blood run a bit colder. That’s, that’s…

“You are a lizard woman!” You say a bit too loud if the flinch of everyone around you is any indication. But you don’t care, your confusion and hint of fear are rapidly replaced by indignation. You know that face, you know those eyes. You know them very, very well. “We shared tea many times and you didn’t tell me you were a lizard woman!?” Your tone is almost as angry as Bella Swan when she discovered Jacob named her daughter like the lake Ness monster.

Shit, was the lake Ness monster real? Was Twilight based in real events?! You have so many questions your brain can’t stop spinning.

“Darling, I-” Your friend from 4B tries to argue, but you are not having it. You sit up straight and get help from your landlord to get up, the minotaur landlord. The minotaur landlord that has no shirt on and has a very hairy chest you lowkey want to bury your face in. Focus, you remind yourself.

And the realization hits you like a brick.

You live in a monster building.

All your neighbors are monsters.

The one you considered your best friend is a lizard-woman.

What the actual fuck?

A/N: Reminder that you can read all my other stories back in @monstersflashlight (all organized in this masterlist), thanks for reading!

[genderqueerdykes]

I have PCOS and I’ve heard conflicting things about whether I can call myself intersex. I’ve seen people say that since it’s just a hormone thing, it’s not really intersex and since I wasn’t given surgeries as an infant about it, I’m not really intersex. I don’t want to step on people’s toes but I’ve also heard that since because I have hormone things that a majority of cis perisex women (I’m transmasc but all stuff online talks about cis women so) don’t have, I would be considered intersex. Sorry if this is weird, I’m just worried that if I started calling myself intersex, I’d be appropriating a label that doesn’t belong to me

PCOS is an interesex variation, you're all good! i also have PCOS :)

long winded ramble here but i haven't posted much about this before, and i have some thoughts

people who try to separate intersex variations between "hormonal" and "biological" conditions are gate keeping. that's another needless binary- many, many intersex conditions affect hormones in specific. you do not have to have mixed or ambiguous genitals to be intersex. hormone imbalances are more than enough. people who think that there's a difference between "hormonal" and "biological" intersex variations don't know what the word "biological" means, so you're free to disregard conversations like that

a lot of people are very misogynistic & intersexist and think that because there are women who pass and don't show any signs of their PCOS outwardly that they're "basically" or "just" perisex women. it really just comes down to misogyny and for some reason. idk i've met people who are... jealous of intersex people ? i used to know someone who was SO upset that they weren't intersex that they would go on long rants about how THEY should be able to call themselves intersex but not perisex women who "pass as perisex" because those people are "just perisex women and not real intersex people".

the ENTIRE REASON THIS PERSON WAS BEHAVING THIS WAY was because they wanted to call themselves a hermaphrodite. that was it. they wanted to use a slur they couldn't reclaim and were so fucking upset about it that they would bitch and moan about how a perisex cis woman with an internal teste who doesn't "LOOK" intersex shouldn't be able to call themselves intersex, but they should be able to do it because they "LOOK INTERSEX". like absolutely fucking unreal

like let's be real, this specific behavior is about misogyny, NOT caring about intersex people or furthering our rights & acceptance. people getting butthurt over PCOS being considered an intersex variation are raging misogynists & intersexists and its time we called it out. you can be intersexist if you're intersex. we are not immune.

like i've seriously seen people get so fucking upset that they can't use the term intersex for themselves that they take it out on other people. i've seen people who want to call themselves hermaphrodites so bad that they'll literally mock and harass intersex women who don't "look" intersex. it's disgusting. idk why people think intersex is like this Cool Exclusive Club but it's not. you're not stepping on anyone's toes by identifying as intersex if you have PCOS, a literal intersex condition, don't worry! OTHER PEOPLE are stepping on YOUR toes. you are intersex. i'm glad you took the time to ask! i just want to let you know that you do not have to take people's shit over this. PCOS is an intersex variation. people gotta learn to cope.

[cullenssweatyballsakk]

People make mistakes and say unsavory things. It happens. Its part of life. If you expect everyone to be absolutely perfect, everyone will fall short.

Cancelling someone who has one distasteful video or take is counterproductive at best and just downright stupid at worst.

It gets even worse when reasonable people are cancelled over small things, when they would have taken criticism/correction very well and actually learned from that moment.

Since some of you niggas continue to be intentionally dense, let me spell this shit out.

A child points out that someone's teeth are very yellow.

Their parents beat the shit out of them for the small offense, and do not explain why they beat the shit out of the child.

The child is confused, as they point out the colors of things they see during their day with their parents all the time. That person's teeth just happened to be yellow and they pointed out what they saw, not understanding that it may hurt the other person's feelings.

Instead of pulling the child aside, explaining as to why what they said was not appropriate, and moving on, the situation was blown out of proportion over something small and/or harmless.

Children are naturally very intuitive, and most children would learn from that and not do it again.

Now replace children with one singular person and the parents with the general public.

When you explain things and communicate, things go a lot better. But if you crucify someone for saying something considered insensitive or unkind without giving them the chance to learn and grow, it becomes unproductive to the larger movement in question.

If I'm fighting for the right to be as I am, I don't give a fuck if the guy who's protesting next to me once said something somewhat right-leaning. If he's in my side, and genuinely has my back at that moment I DON'T CARE.

I can talk to him about that shit later. Persecuting him for it is actively taking away from the cause in question, and if anything, I've done more of a disservice to myself and the other of the cause.

Y'all got too used to screaming and wailing when someone did some shit you don't like. Some shit you have to let roll off of your back and you have to LET. IT. GO.

Stop compromising our fights over some people not being perfect. I'm not perfect. I'm a hypocrite. We all are in our own ways. Some shit you just have to get over and push on.

I've met some reasonable, easy to talk to, and even pleasant right wing people. I've met absolutely UNBEARABLE left wing people. I've also met unbearable conservatives and pleasant liberals.

Some of the most thought-provoking, eye opening and deep conversations I've ever had were in my own house with my uncle who is conservative leaning, and my mother who is more left-leaning but hates to be categorized by the left/right. I would consider myself to be quite radically on the left.

There were times when it was my uncle who was the most reasonable person out of all of us, and talking with them made me realize that everyone has their own set of valuable opinions which need to be considered. My uncle has said some things I wholeheartedly agree with, and my mother has said things I thought were absolutely bogus.

Both of them taught me that listening solely to your own views in an echo chamber is unproductive.

Please learn to keep focus on the actual issues instead of stupid non-issues that can be resolved at a later time.

[venomwrites]

So, I felt conflicted about everything in the last chapter. Which I think is a good thing. I get Cait should have talked with Vi about her decision. But I also understand her need to do something for herself. And I've loved that Cait went and did it regardless but also in the end gave Vi a choice to be a part of it. Plus the reconnect of intimacy with the dropped badge was a nice touch because Cait actually recognized Vis trauma.

And I feel for Vi. I do. That is some fucked up shit that happened on that bridge. And not her fault. And Cait should have been more mindful of that. And I need that to be recognized. But here is the kicker: I understand Vis conflicted emotions but I also understand Vander's anger.

Because: Vi is not responsible for her trauma. But as you said: She is responsible for working through it. And what she went out of her way to do is hurt Cait. It's a trauma response. And it makes sense to lash out. But it's no excuse to do it. It's no excuse to go out and hurt ppl. And she did so deliberately. And it's conflicting in the best way. Because on the one hand, the person Vi cares about so so much, who kept her alive, goes off to join the force who hurt her deeply. But on the other hand Vi goes out of her way and maybe only temporarily to hurt Caitlyn who fought hard to keep them alive in a way traumatizing her in return.

It's a great thing! I was conflicted writing it!

I really love what you said at the end because one of the things that really drew me to exploring this AU was how Vi and Caitlyn would experience the Bridge. And we know Vi's trauma, but imagine being Caitlyn who gets tear gassed in her living room. And we see that trauma affecting them as they grow up. Caitlyn has now experienced a taste of the brutality but for all her resources she can do nothing except try to make this one Zaunite a bit less miserable. And Vi grows up filled with anger towards Piltover but also aware that there is at least one Piltover person keeping her alive.

I tried to plant this seed that Felicia, Vander and everyone else thought Vi's soulmate was someone in Piltover with resources, but no-one considered it was the Kiramman's. Vander even says to Cassandra that he wondered why she called off the Enforcers on the Bridge. So Vi's Soulmate is both directly responsible for her survival and very connected to her parents death. I think it leads to a lot of complicated feelings for Vi regarding her Soulmate even though Caitlyn did not do any of those things directly.

Vander doesn't want Vi to make his mistakes. He doesn't want he poisoned by the anger that poisoned him. That's why when he sees her being deliberately cruel to Caitlyn with the face tattoo, he calls Silco. It's almost past the point of whose right or wrong, it's kind of forcing Vi to see that she can have the anger but it's going to cost her a lot. It's almost an echo of the 'who are you willing to lose' scene in the show.

That's why I loved that scene where she finally says to Caitlyn you really hurt me instead of lashing out. And I think that's what lets Caitlyn say Vi hurt her too. The violence turns from physical lashing out to words. They grow past their predecessors because they don't descend into the same violence. Even though it would be justified. When I was a kid learning to cross the street, my mother used to tell me you can have the right of way and still be killed by a car.

Now for the acknowledgement of the trauma, this came up in my other fic but Caitlyn actually takes off the bandage. She has the VI tattoo in her official Enforcer's license. She does it so every time she takes it out she remembers what Enforcers did to Vi and her family. It's a reminder to consider her actions in the line of duty.

And then when Vi becomes an Enforcer, their licenses match.

Also. yes I loved the dropped badge. Especially in the wake of Vi deciding to go with the other Soulmates (which Cait didn't even tell her about to spare her from it). I love that when Vi decides something is more important than her anger, Caitlyn shows her she's always been more important than the badge.

[alpaca-clouds]

A Reminder of the Fact, that Billionaires are not Real

I know. I know. Most people right now expect me to do more historical write ups. But please listen to me for a moment. This is kinda important. Because with Trump trying to make himself a fucking god emperor or some shit, I need y'all to understand this one thing.

This is a reminder: Billionaires are not actually real. As in: There is not a person who has a ten-figures amount of money on their bank account or anything like that. Nobody. Not Elon Musk. Not Jeff Bezos. Not Zuckerberg. Nobody. They are valued in the billions, but they are not actually billionaires. In fact some of them might not have so much as a million on their bank account from all we know.

So, why are they billionaires?

Because they own assets. Everyone who is really, really rich does not own money, but assets. Those assets are:

Real Estate and land

Luxury vehicles, yachts, private jets etc.

Art

Investment portfolios

Shares in companies

Stuff like mines and natural ressources

Patents and Copyrights

General stuff Marx would call: "The means of production"

The "net worth" that gets thrown around is just what people estimate the stuff those people own is valued at. But again: Very for of them have more then a few million actually on their bank accounts. And this also is the reason why right now we have so many billionaires.

Because since the entire bullshit in 2008 (for those who just turned 18: The real estate bubble burst and what not - watch "The Big Short" for more context) something has been happening called "the asset inflation". Basically the worth of all those assets has shot up in price BY A LOT, which made people who had been "just" multimillionaires before into billionaires suddenly.

But what you need to understand is, that this is just... It is fictional. It is a mirage. And if we all could just agree on that, they literally would have nothing. Because you cannot eat a yacht. You cannot eat company shares. You cannot do shit with any of that. You cannot even buy something with that.

You know how billionaires buy stuff? They go to a bank and go: "Hey, look at all this shit I have. I want to buy XY, so if you give me the money to do that, I will tots pay you back. And if I don't, you tots can take some of my shit, fair?" And the bank will go: "Yeah, whatever. Here. Have 20 billion fantasy dollars."

But all of this just works, because everybody agrees that if the billionaire or the bank sold whatever assets the billionaire offers up to someone else, they would actually get the money.

I wrote about this before: This is why we cannot get away from fossil fuels. Because right now everyone who has the money to invest in energy has not actually real money, but just valued assets - and those assets are oil pumps, and coal mines, and gas plants. And if we all agreed that we no longer want oil, gas and coal, those would be worthless - and those investors would no longer have money. Because their "money" is just the worth that those mines, pumps, and plants have.

And that is also, why they are so much against the "capital gains tax". It is more than it appears to be on the surface. See, a capital gain is, when those assets you hold gain in value. Which currently happens at an alarming rate. Some of them gain literally 20 or more percent in value each year. So if you implement proper capital gains taxes, those "billionaires" would have go give some part of the theoretical monetary gain they made each year from the inflation of those assets - and obviously newly gained assets - as money to the government.

Just look at our most hated billionaire: Elon Musk. In 2023 he had a net worth of 180 billion, in 2024 he ended the year on 410 billion. That is a gain of 230 billion. Almost all of it falls under "capital gains taxes". Now, let's say we implemented a really, really soft capital gains tax of just 5%. Which is nothing in terms of tax. You and I pay more taxes on our salary. But 5% of 230 billion is 11.5 billion. And because you cannot pay taxes in assets, Elon would need 11.5 billion to actually pay his taxes. And he does not have that. Nobody does. Again, I doubt that there is really anyone who has more than a billion in liquid assets (= actual money or anything that can be used as flat payment). In fact I doubt that most billionaires have actually a billion in liquid assets. Some might have several hundred million, sure, but nothing more. Again, this is basically monopoly money.

And if they would implement a capital gains tax this entire fantasy construct would come down. Because, yeah. Nobody actually has the liquid assets to pay the taxes. And they would have to admit that.

Right now their influence is build mainly on the fact that most people do not understand how "rich people economics" work. Which is why you need to understand it.

They do not have money. They have just assets. And those only are worth billions, because people let them get away with claiming this.

You know. We can just... adjust for that.

[maxdibert]

@petals2fish sorry but your friend block me so i can't answer properly your post but i want to say some things about your statement:

And basically are here:

A classist excuse that ignores the social and economic conditions of a person in a situation of vulnerability and danger of social exclusion. You blatantly disregard all the material conditions surrounding a person from an extremely poor environment with no family support, only to find themselves in a school environment where they are constantly persecuted and harassed. You also overlook what it means to be embraced by a specific group of people promising to help them out of the misery if they follow them. Basically, you disregard all the international analyses and statistics linking young people at risk of exclusion as prime targets for sectarian and far-right political groups precisely because of their social conditions. But well, one can overcome classism too, especially when one reads books and not just fanfics and Tumblr posts.

The only Weasley he openly dislikes is Harry’s friend, nothing to do with the rest of the Weasleys, honestly. And despite not having money, the Weasleys are still pure-blood, which means they maintain a superior status over him in the wizarding world. Blood status in the wizarding world has clear parallels with the concept of classical European aristocracy, and in Europe, you can be completely broke, but if you're an aristocrat, you’ll always be considered socially above those who aren’t, even if they’re wealthier. So if you’re trying to establish some kind of power dynamic between the Weasleys and Severus, honestly, you’re going about it the wrong way. You should put a little more effort into understanding how structural class differences work in certain societies rather than pushing a neoliberal, American-centric perspective.

And yes, obviously, he distanced himself from his poor origins because they reminded him of being marginalized, excluded, and abused at home—just like many people from the same social background do as a response to trauma. It’s also true that he served and gave his life for "the good guys," who always treated him like absolute shit, always distrusted him, humiliated him, and marginalized him, while he turned his back on those who, at the very least, treated him with some degree of sympathy “for the greater good.” And I think you’re deliberately and conveniently ignoring this.

On another note, I don’t understand why Severus should have any intention of saving the life of a guy who stripped him against his will in front of the entire school, publicly suffocated him, and made his life hell for seven years. A pure-blood guy, from an important family, disgustingly rich, with far more social and financial power than he ever had. Like, I wouldn’t expect anyone to save their abuser’s life—I’d actually ask for them to be tortured until they begged for their own death. I don’t know what kind of utopian fantasy world you live in where you can hold it against someone that they don’t give a single shit whether the person who abused, humiliated, and traumatized them for life lives or dies. Some of the nonsense you lot come out with is just... wow.

Yes, Snape had self-hatred and internalized classism. And failing to understand where that comes from, failing to recognize how power structures operate when it comes to vulnerable people at high risk of social exclusion—who are pushed by their environment into becoming prime targets for grooming and brainwashing—is classist. But that’s not internalized classism; that’s overt classism. It’s looking at everything from a morally superior stance shaped by a society incapable of empathizing with or comprehending how certain sectarian groups operate and how they primarily target vulnerable youth for radicalization. It’s pretending to ignore how drug cartels recruit underprivileged children and teenagers to work for them, how nationalist terrorist groups focus on young people to indoctrinate them, how religious cults prey on kids with troubled homes or social environments to manipulate them more easily. It’s refusing to see beyond your privileged nose and your complete lack of real-life experience with people who’ve actually faced serious problems, choosing instead to spew moralistic monologues without having the slightest clue how the world actually works.

[gen-is-gone]

#FFS fandom#I mean I am very torn about this#because at heart fanfic is about the writer and the reader too#and we're already fucking around with canon to get the ships and storylines we want in most cases#so if it heals your little heart to have your fave say 'I'm a lesbian'#even though she wouldn't say that#and Lesbos doesn't exist in her universe#then I'm not going to judge#...but I may or may not want to read your fic because it does jar#and if you start to claim fic writers OWE it to readers#or to The Cause#to have characters identify in the 'correct' ways#then I wish to smack you (via @doomhamster)

Yeah and like when you're writing a character who's from 'our' universe and not even necessarily *that* much older, there’s this sense that maybe for *this* character, finding the words a few decades down the line might clear a lot of shit up, genuinely, and maybe make them a little more comfortable with themself but also. Bear in mind that even if the terminology did technically exist fifty years ago, it prooobably wasn't known outside of lesbian bookshops and gayborhood coffeehouses in Ptown and the Castro, y'know?

Just because we have evidence that some people somewhere were using the word 'asexual' in an orientation sense (the X on Kinsey's famous scale) in the 70s doesn't actually mean that every person who would identify as a-spec in the 2020s had any concept of the term as we would use it now. I mean Star Trek notably used the word 'bisexual' to describe parthenogenisis in tribbles in 1967.

he would not fucking say that but it’s he would not fucking talk about his queer identity like he was reading out of a college campus lgbt center brochure

[chasedeys]

Oh thank you for that thorough response!! Are there any other Joemarr lore moments I should know about as a new fan? Any sources you recommend I look through?

oh sure no problem!!! 🥰🫶 not that thorough really akdjfjfk BUT yeah pretty crazy articles to drop lmao

um not to like self-promote (???? is it) lmao but may i direct you to my first ever insane ass long answer to an innocent joemarr ask of my fav joemarr moment that definitely need to be updated with the 2024 season 😮‍💨 you can definitely scroll through my joemarr meta tag too which is like where i store all my bullshit joemarr long answers! you can skip reading the long-winded analysis if you’d rather like form your own thoughts on them but there are dozens of linked moments there you can scroll through so i’d recommend that for sure 😊 oh and maybe my fav tag too! not necessarily joemarr but i usually keep my fav posts there that really catch my interest!

and heavilyyyyyy recommend scrolling through @cementcornfield's joemarr (joe’marr) tag toooo she says her organization's a mess but ive literally learned all there is about joemarr the first few weeks through her blog so 😔🫶 a staple tbh lol and you can branch out all the other blogs that post bengals content too!! soooo many now really it’s kind of wild i can’t keep up at times 😭 here is her post on it if you'd like to see more recommended blogs!

oh and some essential lore mention!! lets see several big ass mentions um

the clothes saga and the entire post-sb loss coaxing out of bed for like a vegas date maybe

kc game shove

lakers date

their pinky shake

lsu natty game ball and ja’marrs bratty ass bragging of it

joe wearing ja'marr's game-worn jersey (top 3 moments btw)

the refusal to play without each other

the ufc fights

that’s my qb not theirs (yeah...)

them being neighborssssss this is truly insane read through carmen's tags no really it’ll drive you insane. what the fuck. no really the fuck.

the whole article is kind of crazy but like the boat thing in particular. 'we did a lot but not on a boat'. okay ja'marr. it also birthed my favorite delusional babble of like. ja’marr choosing to stay in ohio for joe in the future but not being sure of verbalizing it.

DONUT INCIDENTTT with a little handsy moment beforehand (so many angles of the donut incident i cannot possibly link them all sorry)

oh this helmet slam celly vs this helmet slam celly when you take in account how these were their first long touchdowns since joe's wrist injury and like compare it to their first nfl touchdown celly Thoughts truly Thoughtssssssssss 😮‍💨 (the first td celly loooook at joe grippinggg at his waistttt holy shittttttt)

joe on ja'marr's rookie preseason drops (the first link is another angle and longer clip of the first td celly btw where you can see joe finally pushing ja'marr away god the fuck is wrong with them i adore that clip truly top 10 moments and alsoooo the presser with the pinky shake of all times as a fuck you to all those reporters and haters top 5 pinky shakes moment btw)

the lsu staring saga

the lsu warm skin recount

joe's first griddy where their account was nearly the same word for word and ja’marr was severely biased and joe was all ‘i just saw you and i got to’ okay.....

also id link like the whole qb1 pat who thing but i cant be assed to search chiefs anything anywhere else rn sorry 😭 but ja'marr's thing with the chiefs is honestly ripe with joemarr and like joe as his qb1 etc etc

etc etccccccc im sure im missing a lot lmao but like. truly if you do a deep dive of their lore it's crazy they've got 6-7 years of this shit (real quote btw: ja'marr has said so. i've been with him what. 6-7 years? i've lost count.) so like. if you have the time and vigorous enough obsession you can definitely catch up with their entire thing 😔🤚 i wish you the best lol.

anyways hope you enjoy scrolling watching reading through all these moments!! (if anyone else wants to rb and add moments go right aheaddd btwwww please do!!)