#also the implications for the Desk Scene

[bellarkeandclintashaandsuch]

The Devil Judge Episode 6

I'm rewatching TDJ with some people on discord and we're at episode 6. And this scene with Gaon and Jinjoo sticks out now. I didn't notice when i first watched, but on my last rewatch and now, this scene just screams Gahan to me.

It starts off with Jinjoo saying how Yohan has been acting strange.

And that his mind is elsewhere. But Gaon started out the scene with his mind elsewhere, too.

And then continues to space out and think about other things while Jinjoo is talking to him to the point that Jinjoo even gets annoyed at him :\

And then he says he didn't sleep well...

To which Jinjoo asks if he had a date! (more like accuses because she's annoyed 😂)

And this is how Gaon reacts! With that little kind-of-smile and whatever the heck these other emotions are.

And then he just peaces out while Jinjoo's trying to do her job.

Gaon and Yohan slept together the night before is what I'm saying.

[girlbeyondthegrave]

THINGS I NOTICED WHILE WATCHING BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE AGAIN:

This is a very Beetlebabes-centric post, so if you don’t like the ship, please feel free to scroll away. <3

Beetlejuice cut Delores’ ring finger off, and while it was originally a fun joke in the first movie, there’s deep implications about that action when we look at it with the context of the second film. Beetlejuice attacked her after she betrayed him. Anyone would want to kill the person that poisoned them, but the fact that he took the time to find her finger and deliberately cut her ring finger off (and ONLY that finger) reflects how much that marriage meant to him. It also symbolizes that he’s effectively dissolving their marriage. He’s cut off the physical representation of their love and taken the ring, which he tries to give to Lydia hundreds of years later. He held onto that ring for centuries in hopes of finding someone he deemed worthy of it.

He calls his dynamic with Lydia a long-distance relationship, which could’ve been a throwaway joke if not for the fact that when he clearly notices how hot Janet is, he never talks to her or gropes her like he did with Barbara prior to meeting Lydia. Keaton said BJ wouldn’t be politically correct, so this isn’t to reflect the current political climate, but rather to reflect BJ’s motivations.

Beetlejuice was jobless at the start of the first movie, and in thirty years he’s built a company for his bio-exorcisms. Coupled with the picture of Lydia on his desk, it’s possible he did this to impress her. After all, she’s famous and rich now. BJ’s gotta step it up, y’know?

Probably overheard the convo between Lydia and Rory and deliberately bugged her at that time, because if he can possess the phone or whatever, he can probably use it to eavesdrop. This can be further supported by how he got rid of the influencers but kept the people that mattered to Lydia present—Delia and Astrid.

We can also assume he overheard the conversation where Lydia said that Rory loves her and that has to be enough because of the panning to a gravestone. BJ has a special fascination with graveyards, even tiny model ones. If he did overhear them, it explains why he used the truth serum on Rory. He’s testing him. He wants to see if this guy actually loves Lydia or if he’s using her, and then he gives Lydia the means to exact revenge on Rory rather than doing anything himself.

Lydia spends half the movie being strong -armed into a marriage with Rory, and in a way, it’s reminiscent of the first movie’s marriage attempt. Rory dangles their “love” in front of her like a carrot, and if she doesn’t want to be alone, she has to accept his manipulation and agree to get married. Yet she immediately offers it to Beetlejuice, only sounding annoyed rather than terrified. And the movie spends a lot of time proving that BJ has sincere motives this time around, whereas Rory doesn’t. It pushes an underlying message that if one of these guys is going to be a better choice, it’ll be BJ.

Despite Lydia having a tendency to back out of their deals, he still helps her first. He prioritizes saving Astrid even before finding his “runaway bride” again.

Casually calls Lydia the love of his life, looks so sincere when he says he’ll make her so happy. Clearly spent those 30 years planning that dream-dance sequence.

He doesn’t seem to care that Lydia’s sending him away. That coupled with the end scene illustrates how confident he is this time around. Lydia is still stuck with him, and even if he didn’t get her this time, he will eventually. But he also knows how spooked she is by marriage after being a snoop, so it’s possible that he’s just taking it slow on purpose.

In conclusion: Beetlejuice genuinely does want to be with Lydia and care about her. His feelings have evolved beyond permanent residence in the mortal world. If anything, if he still wants that, it’s so he can be by her side.

[sundrop-writes]

How would Spencer react to the f!reader eating a sucker in a very provocative way during a meeting?

I decided to change this up a bit. Rather than it being during a meeting, it's just randomly around the office because eating a sucker/lollipop during a meeting would be annoying af.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

How would Spencer Reid react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

Warnings: reader can definitely be interpreted as gender neutral because there isn't much description of them beyond their mouth (sorry if that isn't what you wanted lmao); this is very sensual/smutty toned (but there is no sex scenes); Spencer is thinking about sex acts/is having sexual fantasies about the reader; heavy sexual innuendo; definitely leans more toward Sub!Spencer; I was thinking of S4/S5 Spencer when I wrote this but you can imagine any Spencer; background Morcia; implications of Spencer masturbating in the bathroom at work. Reader loves teasing Spencer - idk what else. Not really proofread.

"Oooh, what's this?" You asked, walking up to see a large bowl of candy sitting in the middle of Morgan's desk.

"Leftovers from Halloween." Prentiss explained, not looking up from the file that she was reading. "Of course, Garcia put them on Morgan's desk. What was it that she said?"

"A little something sweet for my something sweet." JJ recited the words from her place at the coffee machine with a laugh.

"Oh, he is gonna love that when he comes in." You chuckled.

You knew that he wasn't going to eat all of it himself, and Garcia likely intended it as a pick-n-go for the office anyway - so you took a careful glance into the bowl and then picket an appealing round lollipop. A blow-pop, you quickly realized. Very nice. You knew the gum in the middle was crappy, but you would have fun seeing how long it would take to get to it, and it was cherry flavoured - one of your favourite candy flavours.

You grabbed it up and a few others to slip into your desk drawers, along with taking a few packets of M&Ms for your favourite desk neighbour. When you walked over to your desk that was in front of his, you tossed the candy so that it hit the front of his chest, and Spencer jumped violently, having been scared right out of his concentration from whatever he was reading. A thick academic paper, from the looks of it.

You heard Emily's nasel chuckle in from behind you at how hard he had jumped.

"Good morning." You greeted him with a wide smile as he glared at you, but took the candy and began opening it anyway.

"Yeah." He scoffed.

"You're welcome." You also said, nodding toward the candy in his hand.

"Did you know that M&Ms shortly after their creation, M&Ms were exclusively distributed to the US military during World War II as a part of soldier's rations?" Spencer stated, giving another one of his 'fun facts'.

"Due to the candy coating making them far less perishable, and far easier to transport due to the fact that they were less likely to melt. At the time, they were packaged in cardboard tubes and featured a violet colour among the candies. And that's how they became famously known as 'the candy that melts in your mouth, not in your hand'." Spencer explained, the last words becoming muffled as he stuffed some of the candy into his mouth.

"And now they have gone from feeding soldiers to being the breakfast of a skinny little genius like you." You joked, unwrapping your lollipop and raising it to your lips.

You were one of the people who joked about it, but you secretly loved the fact that he was skinny. You would never tell, but you imagined pinning him down and him not being able to get away because of his lack of muscle.

Spencer would have made some clever reply, but instead, his eyes became locked on your lips.

Watching your lips gently wrap around the roundness of the lollipop immediately sparked something in him. From that moment, his eyes focused on nothing but your mouth, and he absolutely lost all train of thought - including the fact that he had been reading something before you even sat down.

It wasn't even intentional at first. At first, you were just enjoying a random sweet treat at seven o'clock in the morning, going about small things like taking off your jacket and getting the files organized on your desk, and when you looked up to ask Reid if he had a spare red pen that you could use to mark off some things - that was when you noticed it.

That far off, glassy look in his eye that you had never seen before.

He was staring at your lips, hard, clearly not even realizing that he was doing it - at this point, the candy had just barely stained the inner part of your mouth red, and he was being driven insane, imagining himself running his thumb or even the head of his leaking cock along that spot, feeling the pure softness of your lips, having your sweet tongue reach out to meet the throbbing head of his-

"Reid?"

The sudden sound of your voice seemed to shake him from this daydream.

You pulled the lollipop from your mouth with a wet smack, and he swallowed a whimper - it was a sound so subtle that you wouldn't have been able to hear it if you hadn't been carefully listening. You clenched your jaw, suppressing a smirk. You didn't want him to know that he had been caught. Not yet.

"Um - ah - yeah?" He stuttered out, quickly looking back down at the papers in the middle of his desk, trying not to make it seem like he had been staring at you so blatantly.

"Can I borrow a red pen?" You asked, trying to give him your best look of feigned innocence as you placed the cherry red bulb back to your lips while waiting for his answer, gently tracing your tongue around it.

You loved the way his eyes clung to this action like a magnet, his own lips dropping open slightly as he let out a hot breath in awe, his pupils blown wide.

His pants were suddenly very tight.

Spencer had to purposefully tear his eyes away from your mouth when you began oh-so-slowly teasing the lollipop in and out of your lips, forcing him to perfectly picture the round head of his cock fucking between those perfect cherry lips.

He frantically looked around his desk, and grabbed the first pen with a red cap that he could find.

"Here you go." He mumbled, tossing it onto your desk, not even bothering to hand it to you.

He then grabbed his messenger bag from underneath his desk and so subtly placed it at his front while he scrambled off toward the bathroom. You simply let out a laugh and then shoved the candy into your mouth fully, looking back down at your files and getting to work.

Spencer could only pray that you would be done with the lollipop by the time he got back.

A/N: Okay this definitely turned more into the style of a blurb, but what I love about writing requests right in my inbox is that I don't need to do a super defined style, I can just write whatever comes off the top of my head and I don't have to worry about over-editing stuff. It's great for creativity and it's almost like a writing exercise? Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

[ryebread0605]

Hi!!! OMG HI I JUST WANTED TO SAY I REALLY LIKE UR WORK

And like

I wanted to request something!! (if ur ok with it! If u aren't taking requests rn or if u hav writers block, don't worry, I can wait and I don't mind!)

So basically my request is rough sex with lilia after something went wrong in his potion class and accidentally made a super duper strong aphrodisiac?

Btw, if it isn't too much, could it be fem reader?

Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a nice day ahead!! Remember to stay hydrated and stay healthy!

Awww thank you anon! I love hearing that people like these silly stories I write! And of course I can! 

Just a warning, this will contain degradation as well as very public sex (and implications of spreading videos of said sex)

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Between gasps and cries you tried your best to make your broken mind remember what had led to your current situation. 

It was the same as any normal alchemy class, you having to wrangle the little fuzzball of a partner you had been paired up with as he continually tried to knock things off the table. Sure, he may deny himself to be a cat, but Grim was more catlike than even the cat beastman. 

And unfortunately, that meant he liked to cause chaos, even accidentally. 

All it took was one wrong paw swipe and suddenly the healing potion you were meant to make turned an entrancing pink color, the smell going from pine to rose. The second Crewel noticed the smell, he tried to usher the other students out, but it was too late. 

You see, someone else had also picked up on the smell.

And that’s how you ended up where you were now, bent over a desk with your uniform no more than mere ribbons. Your breasts bounced every time Lilia thrust into your sopping cunt, one of his hands holding your hands behind your back while the other tightly grasped your hair, forcing you to look at your fellow classmates who watched in shock and, for some, arousal, at the scene before them.

“Such a nasty little slut,” he began whispering in your ear, “letting me fuck you like this? In front of everyone? Disgusting.” You could do nothing but moan more in response. He was right, you were disgusting for enjoying this. But god it felt good to be disgusting.

His words, and thrusts, only got rougher as he made sure everyone could hear him now, “look at you, a brainless little toy. All you can do is moan, you’re not good for anything else, are you? No, you’re only good to be a source of relief for me and me alone. These people should feel lucky to be allowed to watch.” 

You could feel your eyes roll back as he hit that one spot deep inside you, his smirk growing at that as he easily lifted you and held you by the underside of your knees, slamming you down onto his cock over and over again as all you could do was moan and beg for more. You were completely at his mercy, not even caring about the cameras now recording you nor the fact these people watching you would soon spread the word about how much of a whore you were. 

In fact, you slowly felt yourself realize you quite liked being his whore. 

Just as you thought this, a wave of white hit you as your orgasm ran through your body, moans as loud as can be and everyone being able to see your fluids coating Lilia’s dick. Despite that, Lilia did not stop his brutal pace. Only a few moments after you, he came as well. The hot cum painted your walls white, some dripping out of your cunt as he pulled out, letting everyone see your now wrecked hole. 

With a smirk, Lilia laid you on your back over another students desk, 

“Oh my dear, we are only getting started~”

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + eight

authors note: so....i like cliched shit, so there's some of that here. hope it's not too much. this one is also very heavy at points, so please read the warnings, but it def has its moments that help progress the plot. also, the book referenced is a real work that we often use in therapy with survivors of sexual trauma. an excellent, powerfully healing read. i own neither the book nor the excerpt used.

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

cw/tw: references to csa, aftermath of csa, character being triggered, scene of violence/torture, fluff, angst, language, and suggestive themes

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

masterlist

words: 12k (i clearly don't know how to stop. it is what it is)

It's out of our hands We can't stop what we have begun

---Leann Rimes

“Clarke.”

There’s a heavy sigh followed by continued writing, icy blue eyes focused on the report before her instead of the irksome man before her, no doubt giving her those ‘fuck me’ eyes that would be an HR nightmare if HR actually did any fucking thing at this precinct.

She finishes her quote before asking with all the intentional disinterest, “what do you want, Reed?”

His question, as well as his intrusion by her desk, is expected. “why aren’t you joining the rest of us for the luncheon today?”

It’s none of his business, and Danica has no issues telling him that in intentionally vague terms. “Got somewhere to be.” 

Finally looking up, she sees Reed’s gaze go cold. “Where?”

Danica drops her pin and answers in the sweetest yet nastiest voice she can muster before 10am. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but the Miller girl is being released from the hospital today.”

Reed is just as confused as he is stupid. “Who?”

His obtuseness shouldn’t surprise nor irritate her, but it does. She remembers every single case she’s ever worked, and she’s certain this one will always remain at the top of the list. No matter how far she gets into her career. “Solana Miller. Xavier Miller’s daughter. The home invasion—”

“I know.” Reed’s almost relaxed, nosy disposition has entirely shifted. “Captain said the case was closed. Kid doesn’t want to press charges.”

“That kid is fucking traumatized. Don’t put that on her. Xavier is the one refusing to let us proceed.”

Reed leans forward, harshly whispering, “keep your fucking voice down, alright? Miller is…..he’s not someone you want to piss off. If he says we don’t run it, then we don’t run it, got it?”

“And who the hell is he to decide how the law works?” Clarke is also leaned over her desk, almost a month worth of pent up frustration with the lack of justice bubbling to the surface. “You read that medical report. You were on the scene. You don’t beat a grown man the way they beat that little girl. She could barely fucking walked. Dragged herself to a neighbors to ask for help. It’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

“But she is, okay?” He’s also matching her energy, just as passionate about blatant injustice as she is for said justice. “The best thing to do for that kid is to let her go home, heal, and move on with her life.”

And that’s the part that almost breaks her, that almost makes her shift from her role as an advocate to the survivor within that so deeply identifies with Solana.“You really think it’s that simple? Like she can just go back into the house where she was raped and almost killed and pretend like nothing happened?”

“No, I don’t know, Clarke, and quite frankly, I don’t care. I’m moving on and picking my battles wisely.” His voice switches to something ominous. “And if you knew what was good for you, you’d move on too.”

Aware of the underlying implications of his warning, she calls his bluff, “you threatening me?”

“Believe it or not, I actually do like you, Danica, but you’re playing a dangerous game.” Reed’s voice lowers again, and Danica almost feels like he’s trying to be genuine. “I know you’re still new around here, so let me give some free advice. Xavier Miller is a dangerous man. He’s got friends in places you don’t want to find out about. Leave this alone before you’re the next mutilated body we find floating in the river, alright?”

________

Danica Clarke has always been stubborn, a trait she’s certain will lead to her demise, but if this is the route that brings her to said demise, she’s okay with it. 

Danica waits in the doorway, aware of how knocking can be alarming. She waits and assesses for the moment Solana’s gaze is close enough to where she won’t be as startled. “Hey there, pretty girl….”

Sure enough, Solana jumps a bit, and Danica is pleased to see the swelling on her face has gone down tremendously and the bruising has started to fade to an almost flesh toned color. She looks less at death’s door than the first time Danica was introduced to the 12-year-old.

“Can I come in?”

As expected, Solana doesn’t say anything, just nods quietly. 

Danica moves to sit in the chair on the side of the bed. “Heard you were getting released today….” Danica studies Solana carefully, adding kindly, “may be kinda nice to have a change of scenery.”

Solana remains quiet, but Danica has been around enough survivors, remembers her own survivor story, to know that nothing feels nice or good in the immediate aftermath. There’s just numbness and pain. No in-between.

“I’m so sorry there’s nothing more I can do to help you, Solana. I really am.” And she means that with every fiber of her being. “You didn’t deserve this. You deserve justice, and I wish there was more I could do, but….my hands are tied.” Danica’s only been at this precinct for less than six months, and while asking to be transferred won’t be a good look when evaluations roll around, she doesn’t give a fuck. She can’t serve with bastards who would let sick fucks like Solana’s attackers walk around freely. 

It’s too repulsive.

“But, I do…..I want to give you something.” Danica reaches into her backpack and pulls out something she hasn’t had to look at in years. A book, thick, with yellow, paperback binding. The edges are a bit worn, and certain parts are highlighted, but it’s still just as powerful nonetheless. “When I was….a little younger than you, I was raped too.” Danica sees Solana’s gaze lift up, surprise and shock written on her face. “And it wasn’t until I was a freshman in college that I started to heal and finally process what’d happened to me.” Danica’s lips press together. “The counselor I saw in college, she gave me this book, and it changed my life.”

Solana looks down, reading the title, typed in big, black letters: The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse.

“I wanna read something out of it for you, if that’s alright?” Consent, especially now, is everything, so Danica waits patiently for Solana again to nod, permitting her permission to read. 

With a deep breath to also prepare herself for revisiting the past, she begins reading a passage that Solana can see she has highlighted. 

“I know you're in a world of pain, but that pain will lessen. At the beginning you can't see that. You can only see your pain and you think it will never go away. But the nature of pain is that it changes— it changes like a sunset. At first, it's this intense red-orange in the sky, and then it starts getting softer and soften. The texture of pain changes as you work through it. And then one day, you wake up and realize that life isn't just about working through your abuse; it's about living, too.”

Danica looks up to see Solana sniffling, wiping at her eyes. She’s tempted to reach and take her hand, but she also knows better, knows that the last thing this child wants is to be touched.

“I want you to have this, Solana. I want you to take it, and when you’re older, when you’re ready to reclaim your voice, and you will, I want you to read every word in here. From cover to back cover. You’re gonna be okay, sweetie. You don’t feel it now, but you have to believe it.” Her eyes gloss over. “Don’t ever stop living, Solana.”

“Solana.”

Flashbacks and memories from that time of her life don’t happen often, and it’s an intentional thing on Solana’s part.

She doesn’t like thinking about that part, but this certain memory has now revisited her a total of three times now. Twice in a dream and now in the middle of a conversation with Bayley and Naomi.

That…..that can’t be a coincidence.

“I’m sorry.” Apologizing seems like the most appropriate thing until Naomi shakes her head.

“Roman said we’re not supposed to accept or condone you apologizing for anything, so imma pretend like I didn’t hear that, sis.” 

Roman….

He confuses her. 

He’s certainly unlike any man she’s ever met. And though that number is far from generous, he’s still the anomaly. 

After essentially rejecting what was an….interesting, unfamiliar, different experience between the two of them, she expected him to be upset. To be frustrated. To be absolutely all over her baggage. To ignore her.

But, that’s not what happened, none of that has happened. Instead, he’s carried on like nothing happened, like she didn’t run away from him in near tears. 

Like they didn’t….like they didn’t almost have a moment.

He’s stayed true to his word in that he’s met her every day after work in the week that’s passed. And while the first day was awkward, mostly on her part, they’ve fallen back in that same confusing yet peaceful space. 

Confusing yet peaceful…that seems to be the theme since the day she said “I do.”

It’s not uncomfortable nor unpreferred over where she came from.

It’s just…..different. 

“Oh—okay.” Solana doesn’t know what else to say but notices that Naomi looks like she has something else to say but is hesitant. “Is—is everything okay?”

That seems to be the door that paves the way for said conversation.  “I’ve been thinking. You’ve come a long way. Like, you’ve really got the basics down, all the defensive positions, even fluidity of movement.” It’s leading up to something, Solana is certain of this, but it also means a lot to her that Naomi believes she’s progressed. Doing well with this or even retaining Naomi’s training is something she never saw for herself. “I want to advance you to learning attacks. Solana’s stomach starts to tighten. “With weapons.”

And there it is.

Solana winces. “Weapons?”

Bayley sighs, joining in to help Naomi present her case. “We wanna teach you how to use knives.” Solana’s stomach tightening quickly morphs into twists and knots. “Hear me out, please. I know….I know that’s gotta be a sensitive thing for you, and I totally understand why, but knife fighting is a really great skill to have, even if just to have one on you at all times and know how to use it if need be.”

“And let’s be honest, Roman isn’t going to let anything happen to you to where you would need it, but still.” Something tells Solana Naomi isn’t wrong about that. That neither woman is wrong in what they’re saying, but just the conversation brings back flashes of that night, the night that left the physical and mental scars she still bears now.

Bayley offers a sympathetic smile. “Just think about it, okay?” Solana can do that. She will do that, just….maybe not right now.

And she doesn’t have to because Roman and the twins suddenly enter the gym space. Solana’s stomach tightens seeing Roman shirtless, a sight that’s happened a couple times now, and each time doesn’t seem to make it any easier on her nerves. If anything, it gets worse.

“Whassup, ladies.” Jey greets, clapping his hands as he asks, “ya’ll ready for tonight?”

“Tonight?” Solana speaks up, not directing her question to anyone in particular, but Bayley is the one to answer. “What—what’s tonight?”

“Night of Champions.” She then goes on to explain. “It’s one of our annual wrestling events. Naomi and I are competing.”

Curious, Solana turns to Roman. “Are you fighting?” 

Jimmy, however, is the one to answer. “Soso, Big Dog don’t do these events no more. Not very often anyway, but he’ll be there.”

“Can I come?” Solana directs her question to Roman, knowing that it will be his call. He eyes her unexpectedly. 

“You want to?”

She nods, referring to the group. “I—I wanna see them fight.”

It also feels like the right thing to do, to support the two women who’ve been nothing but supportive of her since day one. Even Jimmy and Jey with their often inappropriate comments about her body and continuous praise over her cooking abilities. It’s still always been very respectful in a strange sort of way.

Roman steps towards her, and Solana finds that it takes a concentrated effort to keep her eyes on his and to not gaze downward. Him being shirtless before her doesn’t help with the attraction she’s still trying to wrap her head around and navigate. 

He lowers his voice, asking, “you sure?”

She’s confused only for a second when she remembers why he seems to be ensuring this is what she wants. This will be the first time Solana has returned to the Warehouse since Grayson and Austin’s attack, since she caused a whole scene that resulted in the whole damn place being shut down and Roman sending a grim message to all.

For a second, she backs away, retreats from her initial desire. Briefly tells herself that this isn’t what she wants, but that other distant voice in the back of her head, not as present or loud, seems to win the battle this time around.

“Yes,” is the final answer she settles on. “I’ll be fine.”

Roman nods, informing. “We leave at 6:30.”

Solana starts to wonder about what this night could entail when Jey suddenly expresses, “It’s kinda nice outside. I think I’m gonna go for a swim. Get in that aquatic cardio.” 

Jimmy also cosigns this after sharing a quick kiss with Naomi. “Oh shit, yeah, lets’ do it

Roman is instantly annoyed, asking with all of the exasperation. “Don’t ya’ll have a pool at your houses?”

“Yeah, but yours is nicer.” Jimmy answers like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He then looks over at Solana, asking, “you joining us, Soso?”

And that, not the idea of returning to the place where she was almost attacked, is what brings on the heavier anxiety. Once upon a time, Solana loved the pool. Swimming with her mom on hot, summer scorching days used to be some of her favorite memories. Now, those memories are plagued with flashbacks of being held under water, a form of torture implemented by her brother.

“N–no.” Solana catches Roman’s gaze on her, the way his eyes dip to her running her fingers against the sides of her workout pants. “I—ummm—I’m going into work for a little bit today, so I should get ready to go.”

Roman speaks up first, skeptical.  “I didn’t know you were going in today.”

“I have to take care of something.”

Solana being vague is new, it’s unfamiliar, and it doesn’t feel the best to lie to him in a sense. Even if it’s less a lie and more a vague answer. 

There is something she needs to take care of. She just has no desire or even ability to tell him just what she needs to take care of, because that would mean she has to tell him the why, and that is something she’s never discussed with anyone and has no desire ever to.

________

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I haven’t written you as much. Life has been….very confusing and different, but not bad. I think….I think I like living here.

I like Bayley and Naomi. They’re so nice to me. I think you would like them too. Bayley is Mexican, so we talk in Spanish sometimes, and I love that because it reminds me of us, mama, all our conversations and writings.

Jimmy and Jey, Roman’s cousins, make me laugh. They’re also nice to me, and they really like my cooking, your cooking. I still use a lot of the recipes you taught me.

I finally have a dog, mami! Her name is Dulce. She’s so sweet and little and adorable. Roman got her for me. 

Roman…

He’s not what I expected. I don’t….I don’t understand why he’s nice to me. Cause that’s what it is. That much I’ve finally realized. He’s….nice to me. 

I’ve never had a man be nice to me. 

We had….something happen a week ago. I still don’t really know how to describe it, just that he was touching me, not even inappropriately. And I think…..I think I liked it, but then I got scared because it was like….it was like it wasn’t him touching me. It was them. 

And I….I hate that. I hate it because it’s miserable feeling this way. Wanting something but not wanting it. Being scared of something but wanting it. Desiring to be close to someone but not wanting that either.

I feel so torn sometimes. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about that book the detective gave me after it happened. There’s gotta be a reason I kept it all these years. I think….I think I want to read it.

I don’t know what to expect, and I’m nervous because I don’t like thinking about it, but I can’t, I don’t, want to keep living like this.

I can’t.

________

When Solana asked to attend Night of Champions, she was thinking it would be similar to WarGames. A foolish assumption. It is in the sense that the arena area is packed, not a single seat unoccupied, the boisterous sound of loud chatter and music serving as a backdrop against said chatter. That’s all the same and unchanged.

What is different and what Solana should have thought about was the fact that the two women who made her feel so comfortable last time won’t be there this time, because they’re competing. And so are the twins. 

And Nicki is apparently upset with Jey—a recurrent theme, it seems—so she also won’t be present.

That leaves one person.

Roman.

Solana didn’t think about the fact that she’d be seated with Roman. It’s not as nerve-racking as it could be, as it probably would have been almost three months ago when this whole new, unexpected chapter of her life began. 

But, it’s still a bit anxiety inducing.

She doesn’t miss how Roman’s grip on her hand remains firm on hers from the moment he helps her out the SUV, his eyes again taking her in the same way he did when she met him back in his office to tell him she was ready to go.

Solana initially felt unsure of herself given the fact that Naomi and Bayley could only pick out her outfit, shoes, and accessories for the night but couldn’t actually help her get ready given the fact that they were competing. Solana struggled to navigate her hair, as always, pinning it up on her head, and her makeup definitely isn’t as nice as the night of WarGames, but it mostly covers up her facial scar, and that’s all that matters.

Still, she must not look completely awful because Roman did not hesitate to give her a slow one over followed by a muttered “damn” and more vocalized, “fuck, you look good.”

She’s starting to lose count of how many times he’s said that now, and each new occurrence still gives her the same butterflies as the first time.

Roman escorts them to their seats, the twins and Paul already being present. Jimmy is the first to speak, whistling loudly.

“Damn, Soso. How we supposed to fight and you distracting us looking all fine and shit?”

“If you want to live and make it to the actual fight, you’ll shut the fuck up.” It’s hard for Solana to tell just when Roman is being completely honest with his cousins or just deadly honest with his cousins. 

This is one of those moments. 

“Thank you.” She doesn’t know what else to say, what kind of response is appropriate to something that isn’t as so.

Roman then motions for Solana to sit down and easily props his big body down in the seat right next to her. Their arms are nearly touching, but she tries not to think of that. Tries to distract herself by asking the twins, “shouldn’t you be in the locker room?”

“Naw, we fight toward the end of the night, so we like to assess with Roman till then.”

“Assess?”

While Jey was the one to provide the initial answer, Jimmy handles the clarification. “You gon be a member of the Warehouse, you gotta earn that shit. That means doing your thing in the ring. You ain’t cutting it, you out.”

Solana nods, quietly. It makes sense. Roman seems like a man with high standards. “So…you all have the final say?”

Jimmy takes a sip of his beer, shaking and nodding his head toward his cousin. “Naw, that’s all Big Dog.”

Solana glances at her husband who’s focused not necessarily on the conversation at hand but the preparation for what’s sure to be an eventful night. 

“If you don’t mind, My Tribal Chief is trying to focus here.” Paul’s voice, equally nice as it is nasty, reminds her of his presence. For some reason, she’s surprised by said presence, though she shouldn’t be. It’s clear the Wise Man is an important asset to Roman. 

“Whassup, my dogs!”

Just then a lanky man comes over to the group. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that says ‘honorary uce’ and has wild red hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in weeks. Solana takes a second to look at him, finding him strangely familiar. It’s then she realizes that he fought with Roman, Solo, and the twins during WarGames.

He goes for some kind of special handshake with Jimmy, then Jey, and finally Roman who looks like he’s contemplating murder rather than wanting to return the greeting. He quickly plays it off, “that is well—okay my tribal chief, and—wow—” Him turning to Solana, finally noticing and acknowledging her, is an experience for the both of them. She notices his initial gaze sets on her chest which is uncomfortable but not entirely unexpected given the style of her dress. Still, she shifts in her seat, uneasy with the attention. “Those are—-ummm—” His eyes go wide, as he moves to backtrack on an obvious Freudian slip. “I mean, it’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am, or Mrs. Reigns, or your highness. Whichever you prefer is a-okay with—“

“Sami.”

His shoulders hunch and head drops in shame, like he already knows what’s coming. “Yes, Tribal Chief?”

“Go sit somewhere else.”

This Sami person doesn’t even hesitate, confirming he already knew he fucked up in the less than five minutes he was present. “Yes, my Tribal Chief.”

Solana watches, still partially confused but also kind of amused as he wastes no time in departing. 

Paul then leans over, chatting away, “I told you, my Tribal Chief, I never liked Shmuel. He’s always been so beneath you. I understand he makes easy collateral, but—“

Roman sighs loudly. “Wise Man.”

“Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Go join Sami.”

“But……” Solana looks over at Paul. His expression is one of devastation, like he’s just been told he had six months to live. “I—I always sit with you for Night of Champ—“

“Wise Man.”

Paul swallows. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“I’m not gon tell you again.” Roman finally looks over at his closest advisor, forcefully enunciating and instructing, “go.”

Similar to Sami, the Wise Man walks off with his tail between his legs, leaving just Solana, Roman, and the twins. 

She has no idea where Solo is. 

“See, now you ain’t even have to do all that, Big Dog. You be getting yourself all upset over nothing. You need to start doing some deep breathing or shit, then maybe you could get off them high blood pressure pills.” 

It’s that last part that Solana zones in on, that makes her turn to Roman, “you have high blood pressure?”

He lifts his eyes, dismissing, “it’s nothing.”

“Can’t—can’t that be dangerous?” It’s not necessarily a question she needs him to answer. Solana is well read on a variety of subjects, especially subjects pertaining to physical health. High blood pressure can mess with a lot of things, a lot of organs. Eyes. Brain.

Heart

Jimmy is the one to chime in, asking with that typical tone of humor. “Soso, you do know what he does for a living right?”

But, it’s hard for her to find said humor when all she’s thinking about now is how certain meals she’s prepared for him could maybe not be the best for his high blood pressure. How she could be exacerbating that.

Feeling pressured by her inner monologue, she offers, “I can change how I cook for you.” And she can. She probably will, making a mental note to peruse through her mom’s recipe books that would be more aligned with the type of diet he probably needs. “I know there’s certain things you probably shouldn’t eat—”

“Solana.” He interrupts, but it’s not with that same irritation he had towards Sami and Paul. “I’m fine. My numbers weren't that bad. The doctor is just being over cautious.”

She wants to believe him, wants to not be as…bothered by this as she is, but something tells her Roman isn’t unlike most men who downplay these sorts of things.

Letting the conversation go, her determination to help him maintain his health remains. 

The conversation shifts to a dialogue between the twins and Roman, the three men conversing in Samoan. She doesn’t mind this, as it also allows her the space to catch the gaze of Bayley and Naomi who look freaking amazing in their gear.

“Soso.”

“I swear to God, if you call her that one more fucking time—”

Jey, possibly foolishly, waves off Roman’s threat. “You understand Yeet, right?”

Blinking twice, she asks, “what?”

“Yeet,” Jimmy says it too, like it’s as basic a word as they come. “Our motto.”

“I—” Honesty is a bit easier with her husband’s cousins. “N–no.”

“Man,” Jey makes a sound with his teeth and jumps right into the explanation. “It’s like a way of life. Like, you yeet when life going good—”

“—when life going bad.”

“—or when you leaving.”

“—or going.”

“It’s a way of life.”

Jimmy and Jey playing off of each other for their presentation is entertaining, at best, but it doesn’t leave her any less confused than she was just a minute ago.

“I—I still don’t get it.”

And that, for the first time, is when Solana hears Roman laugh. It’s not something she ever thought possible, but it’s there, his handsome face turned into an amusing expression as he expresses vindication. “I told you it was fucking stupid.”

“See, I thought we was close, Soso. I thought we was becoming family and shit, but I see you a hater like your husband.”

At that, Jey punches his brother on the arm, reminding with a rough mutter, “man, she be cooking, don’t be fucking up our good thing.”

“Aww shit.” Jimmy quickly moves to backtrack. “I mean, I could see your point.”

Conversation continues as such until the start of the night, Solana watching as the three men around her easily shift into an almost business mode. Their gazes are almost intense, watching closely as matches begin.

Solana partially expected to have to sit and remain quiet for the evening, but certain moves, similar to what Naomi and Bayley have taught her, catch her attention. And it must show, because Solana finds herself occasionally being asked by Roman if she has any questions or if she understands why a fighter did a certain mood.

Some she can answer. Some she cannot. 

So she asks him.

And he answers all of them, clearly, concisely, in a way she can understand.

If Roman is irritated by any of her questions, he does a damn good job not showing as such. And to her credit, she does her best to take a guess vs asking outright with certain things, pulling from her time with Bayley and Naomi. 

And in certain matches, she’s fully immersed in watching their expertise that questions aren’t even a thing. Like the tag team match between two of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen, Jade and Bianca, as Roman called them. Same with Naomi and Bayley who independently show her a side of their ruthlessness she figured existed but hadn’t seen firsthand until tonight.

“Do you all learn how to fight when you’re kids?”

“More or less,” Roman answers, and Solana has a hard time not staring, not being caught up by how handsome this man really is. “This life….it’s kill or be killed. So to not be killed, you learn how to fight. How to survive.”

Survive…

Solana has such a complicated relationship with that otherwise simple word. 

“How come….how come you don’t fight as much?” She’s wondered about this, come up with speculation but would like to know for certain, especially as he seems to be in a relatively decent mood.

Like most things, he keeps his answer nice, simple, and vague. “I don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”

“Did–did you?” He looks over at her, and warmth rises back as she tries to clarify. “At some point, I mean.”

Again, it’s a one-worded response. “Yes.”

She’s not entirely sure just what he’s saying ‘yes’ to, but a full blown out explanation was never expected. He doesn’t seem like the type. But something more would have been….nice. Granted, Solana realizes she’s probably pushing her luck in asking all these questions anyway and sits back in her seat, relegating herself to focusing on the current match.

The chill of the arena makes its reminder yet again as Solana crosses her arms over her body, trying to warm herself. The man beside herself notices this, accurately assessing, “you’re cold.”

True to her nature, Solana shakes her head, downplaying the fact that she is very much cold. “I’m fine.”

Downplaying or being outright dishonest is clearly something Solana would do well to push away, because it seems like this man is capable of seeing right through any and all lies.

Roman shifts forward in his seat and removes his jacket, reaching it to her. “Here.”

Rejection would be rude. It would also make her feel even more bad than she already does at inconveniencing him. Still, her options are really singular, meaning there are no others. Only one.

Mustering a small smile, she accepts his objectively kind gesture, sliding her arms through and adjusting as best she can given their size difference. Warmth overcomes her as well as the scent of his collage, something masculine, almost minty. It fits him.

Silence befalls them for a comfortable while before Solana excuses herself to use the bathroom, Roman only nodding in acknowledgment. 

It’s in walking down the hall that Solana sees Jade and Bianca chatting away, admiring their championship belts. The taller of the two, Jade, happens to glance her way and smiles, exclaiming, “Girl, you are wearing the hell out of that dress!”

“Absolutely killing it,” Bianca also compliments, her smile just as genuine and affable. 

Solana is certain she’s just staring dumbly for a good couple of seconds, because such a compliment from two objectively stunning women towards her was the last thing she expected. 

Descending off her shock, she offers an equally genuine smile and expression of appreciation. “Thank you so much.”

The compliment keeps that smile planted on her face. It’s so unexpected but deeply appreciated.  

Solana dries her hands and tosses the used paper towels in the trash. It’s a brief glance at herself in the mirror that serves as the start of the slippery slope, landing her back in a brief state of uncertainty. The dress is so revealing, much more revealing than anything she could or would ever wear. But it’s hard to think or sit too much in that discomfort when the night has consisted of several compliments. Sami, Jimmy, Jey, now Bianca and Jade. Not to mention the biggest one, or maybe the one that gives her the most butterflies, coming from Roman. 

“Fuck, you look good.”

Her smile shifts from something more silly to something a bit more bashful, her cheeks warming at someone as handsome and powerful as Roman Reigns thinking that she looks good.

Thinking that she’s beautiful.

A toilet flushes from the only other taken stall, and the door opening reveals the perfect reason why Solana should have just went straight back to join Roman instead of having a mental discourse in the bathroom.

Samantha’s long, shapely legs are the first thing Solana notices along with the way her dress melts to her toned, curvy body. She looks good, and she has to know that she looks good. A woman like her probably has men lined up by the dozen, Roman being at the front of that line. 

Samantha’s dark lips form into a smirk as she walks over to the sink. “Surprised to see you tonight.” She moves to wash her hands. “After that not so little incident a while back, I figured that was the last day you’d step foot in here.”

Solana swallows. She’s managed to not think about that day since it happened. Samantha bringing it up is definitely salt on an open wound. “I—umm.”

“Nice dress. A lil snug though. Maybe go up a size next time?” Her voice, so sweet and sugary, is also venomous and knowing. “Or two.”

Solana’s hands naturally move to her stomach, forearms trying to block the part of her body she hates the most and is certain Samantha is primarily referring to.

“Sage, right?” She doesn’t give Solana a chance to respond. “Let me give you some advice. Woman to woman.”

Something tells Solana she’s not going to like this advice. 

Samantha dries her hands and walks up to Solana. “I know you’re Roman’s wife, but you can’t seriously think that means anything to him, right? It’s just a title, and he’ll defend you only because it’s defending his pride.” Solana tries to not put too much into Samantha’s hurtful words, but it’s hard not to when Solana knows Roman continues to be intimate with this woman, even after their marriage. She can’t blame him for that, though, especially since he’s definitely not getting it from her. Still, it does sting a bit. “Trust me, I’ve known him very well since we were in high school.” Samantha smirks, chuckling. “So, I would know.”

“Bitch, you don’t know shit.”

The last voice Solana expected to enter the conversation was that of Nia’s. But sure enough, Roman’s’ cousin stands near the bathroom door, arms crossed over her body. 

Samantha’s expression sours tremendously as she icily greets the other woman, bigger, stronger, maybe even prettier. “Nia.”

Nia ignores the greeting and comes to stand near Solana, immediately going in on the slender women. “If you know him so well and you supposedly mean that much to him, how come it’s not you with a wedding ring on your finger?” Solana says nothing, keeping her gaze down, but it doesn’t stop her from also thinking about that very valid question. Just why didn’t Roman marry Samantha? “Or better yet,” Solana glancing back up allows her to see Nia’s cruel smile. “Why is it Solana’s name he said when he was fucking you?”

What?

Solana is visibly shaken by that because where in the hell did that even come from? There’s no way that can be true. No way Roman could be in bed with someone like Samantha and say her name. 

But Samantha is visibly disturbed, lip almost curling into an almost snarl as she spits, “fuck you, Nia.”

“I’d call you Solana too, so I don’t think you’d want that.”

Samantha storms out of the bathroom without another word leaving Solana alone with Nia, Solana who is still trying to process what was just said and finds herself asking Nia. 

“Is—is that true? Did you—did you really hear about Roman—ummm—”

Typically, Solana would keep her questions in the safety of her mind, but this…..this feels almost impossible to not seek clarification on. 

“You know he’s my cousin, right?” Nia looks visibly disgusted but still answers her question. “I would never make something up like that about family. Samantha is a blabber mouth that doesn’t realize she shares her shit with that dumbass best friend of hers, Tiffy, and the whole town knows.”

The answer is appreciated, but it still leaves Solana with so many questions. 

“I—I don’t understand.” Again, it’s something meant to stay inside but manages to slip past the cracks. 

“God, you are naive.” Nia rolls her eyes and explains while crossing her arms. “Sweetie, if a man is balls deep in Woman A and says Woman B’s name, Woman A is not who he wants.” 

That seems almost inconceivable to Solana. For Roman to think she looks good and maybe even consider her beautiful is one thing, but for him to desire her in that way is something entirely different.

She doesn’t know what to do with this information.

“Don’t let that skinny bitch get to you.” Nia seems eager to switch the conversation to something different. “She’s a pussy. All bark and no bite. Remember, you have the ring on your finger. You just have to put her in her place one good time, and she’ll leave you be. And if not, let Roman know. He’d never hurt or kill her himself, but he’d definitely ask me to, and truth be told, I’ve wanted to snap that bitch’s neck since high school, so you’d be doing everyone a favor.”

Solana can’t allow herself, or maybe more so doesn’t have the capacity, to think about that right now. She’s still trying to get a grip on chapter one. Still, she offers a quiet ‘thank you’ to Nia, turning to leave when the taller woman says her name. Solana turns back around. “Yes?”

Nia sighs and rolls her eyes. “I know you think I hate you, but I don’t. I may hate how soft you are, but I don’t hate you.” Nia then smirks with an almost playful add on of, “I don’t care enough about you to hate you.”

________

As expected, Roman is immediately asking what took so long the second Solana is back in her seat. 

Her excuse is weak. She tells him that there was a line, but it’s the best thing she can come up with on the spot. His expression is all the answer she needs that he certainly doesn’t believe her but will let it go.

For now. 

The rest of the night seems to be more of a blur, Solana now more consumed with trying to wrap her head around this newest bit of information. 

The twins end up finishing off the event with a brutal but successful match where they, as expected, retain their tag team titles.  

Solana could see this, understandably, pleased Roman. 

And outside of some constructive criticism towards Jey and Jimmy, Roman expressed his desire to leave as soon as they got cleaned up, which took less time than she expected. He’s guiding them, her, out to leave, her hand still in his, when a thickly accented voice calls the attention of the man beside her. 

“Roman Reigns.”

Solana can barely turn around to the source of the voice when Roman’s muscled arm is stretched across her body, moving her behind him, his big body serving as an impenetrable shield.

Because of their height difference, Solana can’t see a whole lot outside of the instant shift of security and even the twins toward whoever this person is. 

“How wonderful for you to bless us with your presence so soon after WarGames.” The man scoffs, clearly trying to bait Roman. “What is this, the second appearance in how many years? Hell hath fuckin’ froze over.”

Solana catches a brief glance of the mystery man and gasps. He has an imposing figure, similar to Roman but there’s something cold about him, something….sinister. 

“How dare you acknowledge the Tribal Chief—” Roman lifts his hand to silence Paul. 

Roman simply states, “talk.” 

“You know what I want, Reigns.” Solana hears a footstep and notices how Roman makes a subtle movement that results in the twins also moving closer towards her, shielding her from this man. “You don’t deserve that title. You may have been a fighter then, but you ain’t now. You’re about the Bloodline, and I respect that, mate, but the Undisputed title deserves to be with someone who defends it more than once a fucking year.”

“So what, you think you the one who gon’ take it? Man, we outta kill your ass right now for talking out your neck like that to our Tribal Chief!”

Solana hates being unable to see Roman, to see his face, to be able to gauge and read his facial expressions. He’s an enigma of a man, typically oscillating between irritated, angry, and indifferent, but not having the option altogether to know where he currently lands is bothersome.  Especially with what comes out of his mouth next.

“Do something.”

Solana freezes. That….that can’t be good.

“You standing up on me. You make a good tough guy face. Do something.”

Solana’s fingers tap against her side, that familiar knotting in her stomach returning. She glances over at Jey who seems to also be a bit confused by Roman’s response.

“Uce—”

Roman ignores him. “Go on. Pull it.”

Jimmy speaks up this time, rough voice quiet but urgent. “Roman, we got Solana here—”

“Come on. Make it happen. What’s different? Ain’t nothing changed. Think back to the last time you challenged me.” Solana hates when Roman moves away from her, because it means he’s a step closer to this man, this man who seems determined to pick a fight with the Tribal Chief and may get just that. “Think about it. I whooped you then. I’ll whoop you now.” Roman speaks with such a confidence about him, the most violent, straightforward promise of sure brutality she’s ever heard from a man. “Ain’t nothing changed.”

Solana isn’t necessarily thinking about what she’s doing when she suddenly moves herself in between Roman and this man who’s apparently hellbent on getting her husband riled up. It’s another unconscious act as she plants her palms against his chest, both relieved and nervous by how his gaze instantly drops to hers.

Solana licks her lips and finds herself pleading in an unexpectedly calm yet typically soft voice. “Let’s just go.” His initial expression of fury and simmering anger seems to lessen the longer he looks at her, and Solana adds on, desperately. “Please.”

This act of boldness is completely unplanned and entirely stems from Solana unable to stop thinking about how Roman being so upset all the time can’t be good for his blood pressure. It can’t be good for his health. 

And for reasons she doesn’t quite understand, that bothers her. It concerns her. 

Him not being healthy concerns her.

What does not surprisingly concern her is when Roman moves his hands down to her hips and almost gently moves her to the side, forcing her hands to drop. She expects him to lunge at the other man or to scold her for interfering, but he does neither.

He steps toward him and simply states with all the coldness, “you’ve got your match, but I set the date when I want it.” Solana’s more or less holding her breath, waiting for Roman to strike the man, or worse. “But know this, McIntyre, you step in that ring with me again, I’m not just ending your career this time, I’m ending your fucking life.”

Roman’s threat sends uneasy chills down her spine. There’s no mistaking Roman’s promise, something she’s certain he will be sure to fulfill.

He then takes her hand again and moves her to the side opposite of the man who looks like he hates Roman as much as Roman probably hates him. Solana is almost entirely eclipsed by Roman’s big body as he walks her past the ordeal.

The car ride is a bit uncomfortably silent, Solana recognizing that Roman is still seething from the exchange but most likely waiting until she’s out of his vicinity to express that rage. 

But, it's when she’s walking back in the house after letting Dulce do her business that Roman catches and speaks to her. 

“Solana.” He’s leaning back against the counter, big arms crossed over his muscular body. He’s so….big. “What happened when you went to the bathroom tonight?”

She can’t be surprised, can’t feel caught off guard by his question. It’s still not something she necessarily wants to talk about or knows how to discuss, but she’ll do the best she can. 

“I ran into Samantha.” Taking a deep breath, she tries her hardest to keep it vague but still an acceptable answer. “I don’t—I don’t think she likes me.”

At that, Roman nearly growls, “what did that bitch say to you?”

Solana winces at his tone. “It wasn’t that bad…”

He’s quick with the dismissal and redirection. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“She just—she just talked about my outfit, that—that was it, because Nia came in there, and well, I don’t—I think Nia might hate her more than she hates me.”

Roman sighs, running his hand over his face. “I’ll handle Samantha.” Before Solana can protest, he adds, “Nia doesn’t hate you.”

This brings a small smile to Solana’s face. “That's what she said.”

Roman also looks slightly amused by this, studying her for a second. “Solana.” The surprises keep on coming, because he takes an unexpected turn in the conversation. “I almost lost my temper tonight.”

This….this feels true. His issuance of threats were delivered in an almost calm manner, but it was more deceptive than anything. Like a setup for violence that was potentially about to unfold if she didn’t interfere.

Still, nothing ended up happening, so it doesn’t make sense for him to act like it did.

“But, you didn’t,” she points out quietly, offering a bit of an olive branch. “And….you were upset.” 

Solana would maybe argue that he’s always in varying states of upsetness, but that’s not the point of the conversation at hand. 

“I have no shortage of enemies, Solana.” His voice takes on a darker, almost subdued tone. It makes her previously amused expression slip into something more somber. “But, I need you to know that I would never do anything that would put you in danger. Drew wanted to issue his challenge. That’s it. He wasn’t going to do anything, because he wants an audience for that. I had it under control.” Solana isn’t questioning that nor did she plan to, but Roman’s next question definitely takes her for a loop. “Were you scared?”

It’s a valid, understandable question that she didn’t think about until this moment. There was anxiety, maybe some element of fear but also concern, so she decides to play down the first two. 

“I wasn’t scared.” It was more concern than fear, which, in her mind, are two different things. “Just….confused about what was happening.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His dismissal is nicer than what anyone else would receive. “Of me, Solana. Were you scared of me?”

Another valid question that she’s actually been thinking about on and off for the past few weeks. Solana would like to consider herself not naive to a lot of things about this life that she was born into. She knows that most of the people who surround her are killers. And Roman is no different. The king of that, maybe.

But…..

But, he’s done nothing thus far to make her ever believe she would ever be subjected to that side of him. If anything, he’s worked to stress and help her understand that she’d never be hurt by him. And adding up all of the things he’s done to support said message, Solana feels it only appropriate to be honest with him. 

About more than just his question.

“When—-when the twins asked earlier today if I wanted to go in the pool, I got nervous because—-” Solana displays her textbook signs of discomfort with the stammering and playing with her fingers but still manages to get out what she wants to share. “Wes, he used to…..hold my head under water until I almost passed out.” Solana looks away for a second, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “That……that’s who I’m afraid of.” Solana manages to set her gaze back on Roman, almost confidently assuring, “I’m not scared of you, Roman.”

He steps toward her, and Solana’s eyes never leave his, mindful of the way his hand lifts, tensing when he rests it against her face, palming her cheek almost gently. Solana stiffens but easily shifts into something not calm but not on edge either. “You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, of anyone. I won’t let anyone else ever hurt you again.”

And for the first time, she believes him without the speck of doubt and uncertainty in the backseat. Solana has seen nothing from the man before her to indicate otherwise. She doesn’t know a lot of things regarding him, regarding them, regarding just why he’s so hellbent on defending her, but one thing she’s realized is that he’s intentional and determined with his dedication to protect her.

This is similar, very similar, too similar to that night where her fears got the best of her, where she was unable to overpower the discomfort and fear. But, this isn’t that night, and Solana doesn’t feel that building dread in the core of her stomach. It could be the fact that it’s only one hand on her, cupping her face. Nowhere else.

It could even be a very early sign that maybe, just maybe, that book she was given so long ago really does have the healing properties someone from so long ago once promised. 

There’s even her conversation with Nia from earlier that sits in the back of her mind, the undeniable confirmation of Roman’s attraction to her. Enough to where he would say her name during that.

Whatever the case, she doesn’t move away, just nods quietly, slowly moving away from him. 

“I’m—I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

Roman says nothing, also nodding as acknowledgment, watching as Solana grabs Dulce and disappears out of his sight but not the front of his mind.

________

The Reigns estate is as spacious as it is grandiose. There are several ways and paths to reach a destination. 

So, Roman doesn’t have to pass Solana’s room to reach his bedroom. There’s an alternative route in coming from where he was working, but he decides this specific way for reasons he’s not entirely sure of.

It ends up being a good decision because it’s in walking past her door that he hears low scraping against said door. Instantly, he knows it’s Dulce clearly needing to go outside. And she confirms as such with her soft whimpering. 

Rolling his eyes, Roman opens the door just enough for Dulce to run out, stopping when she sees it’s him. He glances at the bed to see Solana sleeping, open book on her chest, indicating she fell asleep while reading.

Dulce whines again, and he chides quietly, “be quiet before you wake her up.”

Dulce’s ears go down as Roman picks up the puppy that’s still too little to walk up and down the steps, hence needing human transportation. It’s annoying, but he brings her down the steps and out the backyard. 

Settling her down, he instructs, “go on. Do whatever you gotta do.”

He’ll give the dog some credit where credit is due. She’s far more obedient than he expected for a puppy, because in less than 10 minutes, she’s emptied her bladder and is being carried back to Solana’s room. 

Roman is careful to lay her little ass back in her bed, aware of her bristle looking legs that would probably break with one bad drop. 

Rising back to his full height, he catches Solana turning on her side, the shift in position causing the book to slip and almost fall out the bed, but Roman is fast, catching it before the crash and potential disturbance can wake her up.

Naturally, he glances at the front cover, noticing the age of the book. But the aging look doesn’t mean shit to him when he sees the title and a piece of paper that clearly has Solana’s handwriting. He doesn’t read that, wanting to respect her privacy, but he definitely reads the title, and it instantly shifts his entire mood. 

The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse

It shifts his mood from his default state or irritation to quiet rage. 

There’s only one reason she would be reading this book, working out of this book. And it’s not that he didn’t already know she’d been violated in one way or another. Her medical records confirmed as such.

But, he was thinking she was a teenager, not any better, but definitely not a fucking child.

Someone hurt her when she was still a child, a literal goddamn kid, and this is something Roman cannot find it in him to avoid investigating. He’s always been a man uncomfortable with unanswered questions, and there are no shortage of them in regards to Solana. Not that he would ever put her in a position to answer them. No. He wouldn’t do that to her, would never make her share something like that with him.

But, he does know someone else he can demand answers from. 

Two people, actually. One of them being shit out of luck after narrowly avoiding Roman’s wrath from earlier today in learning that he fucking tortured Solana.

Roman carefully places the book on her nightstand and makes sure Dulce is still in her bed on the other side of Solana’s before quietly closing the door.

Roman is down the hall, powerful strides taking him to his room as he pulls out his phone, dialing the one person he knows for a fact will answer his call at any time. Hitting dial and switching it to speaker, Roman tosses his phone on the bed to get dressed. 

Sure enough, he answers on the second ring.

Roman jumps right into it. “Meet me at the Miller house. Get your brothers.”

Solo only pauses for a second, answering in that stoic voice, “we’ll be there in 30.”

Not good enough. 

“Make it 20.” 

________

As expected, Roman is met at the Miller house by his cousins, all three.

Slamming the car door shut, Roman hears Jimmy yawning loudly. “Man, why the hell is we here?”

Ignoring his older brother, Solo straightens his stance and informs, “I had Pearce disable the security system.”

“Good.” It’s the fact that Solo already knew to do so without being told. Moments like this is when Roman knows he made the right decision promoting and moving Solo up the ranks. He’s more than proved himself.

“I have questions. Miller has answers.” Roman’s answer there is intentionally vague. Solana’s trauma is no one’s business but her own, and just because he is also aware doesn’t mean he needs to broadcast it. “And Solana told me today her brother used to waterboard her.”

“Waterboarding? Like actual fucking torture?” This information seems to awaken both the twins, eliciting angry reactions. “What the fuck is wrong with his ass?”

“We killing them, right?” Jey, forever the hothead and also relatively equal with Roman in terms of how quickly he travels from zero to one-hundred, is the first to ask the most obvious question.

“No. Not tonight. That would be too easy.” And it would. Roman meant that shit when he said he wanted their asses to suffer. “But that doesn’t mean we have to make living easy for them.”

They don’t deserve to live, let alone living easy lives. Not when they’ve done everything seemingly possible to make Solana’s miserable.

Roman then looks towards the twins, instructing, “take care of the brother.” It’s not a necessary directive, but he doesn’t hesitate to add, “make him fucking suffer.”

He then motions for Solo to follow him, the men headed toward the house as Roman swears out loud, “Xavier is mine.” 

Roman steps back as Solo waits zero time in shattering the large window in the living room, providing an entrance for the men. Roman grabs his gun, nodding for the twins to move first, followed by Solo, each man armed with a gun. It’s unnecessary, Roman is certain as they’re more likely to find father and son in the midst of illicit acts vs prepared for the onslaught headed their way. 

Up the stairs and on the second floor, Roman quietly motions for them to split up, Solo and the twins to the right while he moves to the left, the most likely location of the master.

Solo seems to give him an uneasy expression, but Roman simply nods and heads toward his target.

Xavier is his.

The combination of the brothers works just as Roman predicted, them successfully locating the brother’s bedroom, confirmed by his horrified shout of ‘what the fuck! 

It’s followed up with a shout of pain and Jey yelling “Get your bitch ass up!” and “Solo, fill up the tub!”

Pleased, Roman is standing directly outside of Xavier’s door when the older man rips the door open, face contorted in a mixture of shock and anger. That quickly morphs into fear when he realizes just who is responsible for this attack. 

Roman brings the gun across upside Miller’s head, watching the man fall down and writhe in pain, holding his hand against his now bleeding head. 

Undeterred, Roman reaches down, yanking the man up by his neck as he jolts his body against the nearest wall. “We need to talk.” Straight to the point and not in the mood for any bullshit this fucker may try to spew his way, Roman demands,  “I want to know what the fuck happened to my wife.”

And there’s a brief but telltale sign that Xavier knows exactly what he’s referring to without Roman even needing to elaborate. 

That only pisses him off even more. 

Still, Xavier stutters, shaking his head, “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Roman gives a bitter smile, shaking his head and scratching his beard. It’s the last thing he’s certain Xavier sees before Roman again has him up by the collar of his pajama shirt. 

“You really want to play these fucking games with me?” It’s a no. It’s a hell no, but Xavier insulting Roman’s intelligence by lying to him indicates the opposite of no. So, Roman will treat him as such. “Who the fuck touched Solana?”

His question is followed up by screaming coming from down the hall, the beautiful sound of a piece of shit getting exactly what he deserves. 

“What? Ain’t so tough now, little bitch! Like to beat on women but a pussy when it comes to fighting another man!”

And while it could bring a smile to Roman’s face, Xavier looks horrified in hearing Jimmy’s taunts. Instantly, he’s pleading, pathetic and pitiful, “pl—please.”

“I’d torture and kill that bitch right in front of you tonight if I could.” It pisses Roman off to no end how this man can care so much about his demented son but not give a flying fuck about his innocent daughter. “Now, answer my fucking question, who touched Solana?”

Again, Xavier decides to test Roman’s patience, offering unasked information. “She—she was a virgin before she married you.”

“I don’t give a fuck about her being virgin or not!” She could still be a virgin and have been touched. But truth be told, that shit’s never mattered to him anyway. Virgin or no virgin, it’s always been an irrelevant deciding factor to who he took to bed. “Tell me what happened to her or I’ll blow that bitch son of yours fucking brains out right in front of you—”

Roman pulls the gun from out of the back of his pants, knowing full and well that while he would love to empty the entirety of it in the scum before him, it’s better served torturing him in another sort of manner.

Mentally.

And it does the trick.

“Alright, alright!” Xavier finally caves, sweat bubbling across his wrinkled forehead. “She was raped, alright? Two men broke into the house when she was 12 and attacked her. Beat her real bad. They—they never found them. Okay? That—that’s the truth. That’s what happened.”

No. Not fucking okay. Nothing is fucking okay. Roman wanted answers, felt like he needed them, but knowing the truth, it doesn’t do shit but paint his vision red. 

He knew something happened to her. 

He just didn’t know how bad.

Raped. 

Beaten. 

Twelve.

And then another thought hits him, the absolute terror on her face that day when she was faced with what should be the most simplest thing for a person: going into their childhood bedroom. 

Roman remembers her fear, the dried blood, the scratches on the wall. 

It all makes sense.

She was attacked in her fucking bedroom.

The thought of a child being hurt at all has never sat right with him, but to be hurt in that way. As a child, and for that child to have been Solana. 

He’s fucking breathing rage. 

“Where the fuck were you, huh?” Roman jerks his body back against the wall, half ready to break this fucker’s neck. “Answer me!”

“I wasn’t home!” Xavier’s sweating has progressed into droplets from his forehead onto the bridge of his nose and shirt. “I—I was out on a fishing trip with Wes.”

A fishing trip…..

This man was out enjoying fucking nature with his dimwitted offspring while his daughter was at home alone fighting for her fucking life.

“You left a 12 year old home alone?” It keeps getting fucking worse. “How long was she alone!” Roman is fully prepared to risk snapping this motherfucker’s neck when he spits out a desperate answer.

“A week. It was just a week.” And if it makes a fucking difference, he desperately adds on, “I—I’d done it before, and she was fine.”

Xavier is either stupid or very stupid, because Roman can’t conceptualize how this imbecile would think the additional information makes it any better. 

Solana was hurt.

She was hurt in the worst way possible, and it’s all his fault. 

With all of the aggression in his body, Roman throws the piece of shit across the room, intentionally aiming for the glass coffee table that instantly shatters under the weight of his fat ass.

Without a second of fucking hesitation, Roman fires two shots directly into Xavier’s body, one in his right hand and the other in his left foot. Xavier’s shouts of pain do little to dull the unadulterated rage coursing through Roman’s body.

Shouts morph into tiny, pathetic whimpers as Roman slowly walks through the broken glass, tossing his gun to the side as he pulls out the brass knuckles in his back pocket. 

“I told Solana I wouldn’t kill you until she gave me the word, and I’m not going to take that from her.” He crouches down besides the now crying older man, crying in the way Roman is certain Solana did when she was alone and helpless. His fury is practically bubbling over now as he coldly vows, “but that doesn't mean I can’t make your life a living fucking hell until then.”

________

Roman walks back into the house with a weight he can’t shake, even with the brutal carnage he unleashed on the Miller household, leaving father and son on the brink of death. That type of violent release typically abates his anger, and it did diminish a lot of it, seeing that piece of shit pummeled into a bloody, broken mess.

But Roman is still plagued with thoughts of the hell Solana endured living in that household. To be attacked in that way in her own home, in her fucking bedroom, it makes Roman want to get right back in his SUV and carry Xavier and his equally piece of shit over the doorstep of death.

But, he couldn’t do that to Solana, take that away from her. He’s just the executioner in this situation. He’ll let the day of reckoning be determined by her because that’s the least she can get. 

Coming straight back home, Roman didn’t bother to stop and get himself cleaned up. His guards have seen much worse, and Solana is asleep, so that’s not a concern either.

But, it is a concern because in an almost scene of deja vu, Solana is most certainly not asleep. She’s sitting on the sofa, Dulce right beside her when she hears his heavy footsteps. 

Roman doesn’t have time to say anything, too stunned by this happening yet again, even later than he’s returned before. 

Why is she up?

Solana jumps up off the sofa and is suddenly standing across from him, her face painted in what’s obviously a moderate to tremendous amount of worry and anxiety. 

But, she isn’t looking at him. Not really. She’s more so focused on the blood stained and splattered clothes that adorn him.

“You’re hurt…..” He’s heard her say it the last two times they were in this type of situation, eerily similar in a lot of ways, but this time….this time is different.

It’s different because she rushes over to him, her hand floating over his chest, one place, two place, another place. Like a plane trying to find a safe space to land, she’s unsure where he’s hurt and clearly overwhelmed by it all.

And then he sees it, the blurry overlay of water over her eyes and the slight tremble of her lip.

Roman steps towards her, trying to be respectful of the distance between them. Her discomfort with touch makes all the sense now. “Please don’t cry.” And this is yet another new, unfamiliar, unexposed territory for him, seeing her so distraught at her belief that he’s been hurt. The way that the thought alone clearly wrecks her.

Roman quickly notices the changing of her breathing pattern, heavier, rhythmic almost. 

“Shit…..”

Roman has heard this song before.

Realizing this is a matter of de-escalation, he does what’s needed in the moment and brings his hands to her face, cupping her face.

“Solana, breathe, baby.” The term of adoration isn’t even something that really registers with him at the moment, not an intentional addictive or something he gives two fucks about in this moment, really. He’s solely focused on settling the woman in front who’s on the brink of a panic attack.

He can’t see her deal with that again, especially now that he knows just why she had the first one.

Roman has no hesitation in pushing away loose strings of her hair, never once taking his focus off her. “I’m fine, Solana. I’m not hurt. It’s not my blood.” Recognizing she clearly needs to see it, he moves back to lift and toss his shirt on the floor. “See?”

And that seems to do something for her, something to help settle the panic. 

Roman watches her and forces himself not to think about the heat that fills him at her hand on his chest, over his heart. It’s all so innocent. Recognizing her breathing has settled into something less alarming and more familiar, he moves his hand over hers, reiterating once more, “I’m fine.” He waits for her to finish taking a deep breath to ask, “why are you up?”

This has to be the third time Roman has come home at an ungodly hour to find her waiting for him, and he’s trying to figure out what the real reason is. 

She licks her lip, clearly working her way up to a response. “Dulce had to…..had to use the bathroom, and I saw you weren’t here, and you didn’t answer my text.” Roman curses himself. He was so caught in his uproar that he didn’t even bother checking that thing, never expecting for Solana to be the missed notification on his lock screen. “I just…..I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Roman has heard this part before and tries to navigate how he wants to push back on his belief that it can’t be just that, but Solana surprisingly beats him to it. “I get….I get worried when you’re not here at night and—-and I can’t sleep until—-”

“Until I’m back….”

He has a good guess why. She was attacked in the middle of the night, and he’s also pretty certain he remembers reading that the attack that killed her mother also happened at night.

“Solana…..” For the first time in a while, if ever, Roman is active in his attempts to explain this to her as gently as he can. “What I do…who I am…I can’t always be here.”

“I know,” she sniffles. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to bother you—”

“You could never bother me, okay?” He wipes away more of her tears, hand back to cupping her face, realizing she’s not going to pull away from him this time. He takes full advantage of that. Roman moves his other hand to the small of her back, holding her against him. It’s not missed upon him how she also brings her other free hand to his chest. “But, I always make it back, alright?” She nods, as he runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Can’t no man put me down.”

She smiles, a little laugh that does more to him than he’d like to admit, that he feels comfortable with. And this settles him. It settles him more than nearly killing her dad and brother for hurting her, directly and indirectly, did. 

Solana nods, murmuring a quiet, “o–okay.”

He’s studying her. Closely. Maybe more than what’s necessary. It comes from a place of concern, and he’d admit as such. “Are you good now?” 

She nods again, and he believes it enough to let her go, watching her start to walk away when he’s caught off guard again because of her body, so soft and warm, against his again. Her sweet perfume filling his senses, her arms around his neck.

She’s hugging him. Solana is actually hugging him. He can’t remember the last time someone did that shit.

But he doesn’t waste a second of time accepting her embrace that seems to end just as quickly as it began. He can’t be surprised or upset. This is big for her, obviously, and he would never push her past her comfort zone, but he also can’t deny that the absence of her in his arms is noticeable. 

And uncomfortable.

Solana murmurs a rushed goodnight and grabs Dulce to head back up the stairs, Roman eyes never leaving her until she’s completely out of view.

Roman stands there for a few good minutes, unsure of what just happened, working to process the same unfamiliar feelings that coursed through him the last time they had a moment like this. It’s the same as before, just ten times stronger, more intense, more consuming.

Unsure of a lot, two things he knows for asbolute fucking certain:

He’s going to find Solana’s rapists and make them pay for every sick fucking thing they did to her.

There’s not a fucking force on earth that could take this girl away from him.

She’s his.

And he’ll protect her with everything in him.

No matter what the cost.

[erospandemos]

Some things never change

NewJeans Danielle x Reader

Where Danielle tries everything in her power to make you understand her feelings

Beta-reader: @leafostuff

You had known Danielle Marsh all your life, from when she was just a little kid to now that she's a fully grown adult, although her height kind of stopped halfway. You met her in the first days of elementary school. She must have looked weak to the other kids with her two missing teeth, thin legs, and pale complex, so a group of rascals started messing with her.

They would call her all sorts of names with their limited word knowledge, mocking her with gestures and weird sounds. They'd also push her around or make her trip and fall. Even though their mind was still limited, they already had a knack for bullying.

You happened to be around her when you witnessed one of those scenes. All it took was a slap and a threat and the kids fled away. It was just a normal thing for you, as fights were very common at that age but for Danielle, you were her saviour.

"Are you okay?" you asked her worryingly.

Amidst her sniffling, Danielle managed to reply, "Those bullies were teasing me. But you made them go away, so thank you."

You felt a bit bad about her. Her eyes were so red from crying and she kept rubbing her eyelids to dry those endless tears. "Don't worry Danielle. They will never tease you again. I'll always be here for you," you reassured her, not knowing what kind of promise you were making.

What followed were days, weeks, and months of annoyance. Danielle followed you everywhere you went, pestering you from the morning to the afternoon—always talking, always joking, always asking.

"Thank you for helping me!" she told you. "Jinyoung hasn't been mean to me anymore! I love you!"

You were annoyed. You let her talk and kept walking, "He was just being an ass. It's nothing special."

She began to be your shadow, a silent companion seeking solace. A girl looking for a friend, or at least that is what you and she thought. There was already something present in her heart but you just didn't know it yet. But kids learned quickly.

It was a random day in April when she made her first move.

"My parents taught me that I should hug the ones I love. Can I hug you?" Danielle asked you, her eyes earnest and pleading.

You were caught off guard but still nodded hesitantly. You opened your arms and she stopped closer, embracing you tightly. She found comfort in your warmth and kept you there close to her. You didn't know why she did that but you liked it too.

Then a couple of months later, you were invited to her house. You and her parents got to know each other and figured it would be a good occasion for you two to bond together. At her house, there was a very nice illustrated book for children. The kind to have small but enormous sentences. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement when she brought it out from her desk to show it to you.

"It's a story about a prince who married the princess he saved. Don't you think that it's so... cool?" She said, her eyes wondering between dreams and fantasies.

"Yeah, I guess," you replied. You didn't fully grasp the implication of the tale. You just liked the drawings.

"You saved me from the bullies, just like the prince. Maybe... maybe we could get married someday?" Danielle confessed, blushing.

You chuckled nervously, still oblivious and clueless.

Things also got more complicated when she caught you talking with a girl from your class.

"Who's she?" Danielle asked, laced with jealousy.

"Oh, this is my friend from the class, Seo-yeon," you introduced her, unaware of her stern demeanor.

"Well, she better not try to steal you away from me!" she declared, pouting and crossing her arms.

You laughed nervously again, not understanding what she was trying to say, and apologized the poor Seo-yeon who was receiving the possessive gave from Danielle.

That was more than ten years ago. But now that you were both grown up, things didn't change at all.

You're reading the book you've been saving up for weeks, finally free from the exam season of college. It's been a relaxing day, as it's been the first full break you could take and you decided to just replenish your energy by doing nothing all day. The day was good outside but you didn't feel like going out at all.

But you did not know that the outside would visit you instead.

A too-familiar figure barged into your room, with a familiar voice and force. "Hey! Your mom said I could come in. Hope you don't mind," Danielle exclaims.

You look up, surprised. You have to bid goodbye to your book because there was no way she would've left the house now.

"Uh, hey. No, not at all," you say, recollecting yourself. Looking around, you could see the mess the room was left in but after all the times your friend had seen, it wasn't much of a problem. You just left it as it was.

Danielle approaches, her grin widening as she eyes the book in your hands. She lowers her head and reads your title, not because she is interested, but because it could be a potential reason to tease you.

"What fascinating world are you escaping to today?" Danielle asks you.

Before you can respond, Danielle snatches the book away, dramatically flipping through the pages, not a word passing through her eyes.

"It's a great book, you know," you say before she can judge you. But that wasn't her intention. Danielle tosses the book aside and, with a sly grin, moves closer to you.

"Boys, your age don't really stay in their house all day, shouldn't you go outside?"

You raise your eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?

She clears her throat, "Well, you know, all boys go around picking girls, shouldn't you be interested in girls too? Especially me..."

"Books are interesting enough," you say, annoyed.

Danielle sighs heavily and slaps your shoulder. "You really don't get it do you...? Whatever," she says, "But do you know what's even more interesting than books?"

Without waiting for an answer, Danielle wraps her arm around you, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. You, visibly annoyed and embarrassed, squirm from the surprise and try to claw out of her grasp. But it just gets tighter. "Danielle, seriously, what are you doing?" you stutter.

Danielle chuckles, enjoying your annoyed remarks, and lets her other arm get you too.

"Just playing with you."

You try to pull away, but Danielle persists.

"Can we not do this right now?" you say. Danielle rolls her eyes and sighs before releasing you.

"Oh, come on. Just having a bit of fun," she says, pouting.

She playfully pokes your cheek and laughs.

"This is ridiculous."

Danielle seizes the opportunity and leans closer, circling your thighs. "You know, a little embarrassment never hurt anyone," she says and eyes you up and down, locking her eyes with yours. "Besides, you're kinda cute when you're flustered."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Why are you doing this???"

She laughs, finally satisfied, and lets herself fall on the couch. "You know," she speaks truthfully, "there's something about you that's just too irresistible."

"Yeah, you aren't the only one."

Suddenly, you feel Danielle's intense gaze on you. "Who else is teasing you? Girls?"

"Sometimes?"

"Oh, that's not good. They have to know you're taken."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't sense anything good coming. "What are you talking about now?"

"I was thinking, maybe I should leave my scent on you. You know, like marking my territory. That way, other girls will know you're taken."

You blink repeatedly, utterly bewildered.

"Leave your scent? Danielle, we're not animals."

Danielle chuckles.

"Just imagine it – you walk into a room, and everyone's like, –Oh, they smell like Danielle. They're off the market!–"

"You've been watching too many nature documentaries."

"Shut up and come here."

Danielle snuggles closer, her energy warming the room and your body. You feel her arms quickly wrapping around your body and her legs tangling into yours and before you knew it, she was already spooning you. After all these years of doing so, she has gotten quite good at it. "You know, you really should loosen up. It's just a cuddle between old friends."

You shift uncomfortably, a bit against her although her lively insistence was stronger than your will. "Danielle, seriously, we're not kids anymore. We can't just... cuddle like this."

She tilts her head, studying you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on! Don't be such a grown-up. We used to do this all the time when we were kids. It's nostalgic!"

You sigh, giving in a bit. "Yeah, but things are different now."

Danielle was a slim girl, petite. She felt small although you were the one under her grasp, and her limbs were delicate and fragile. She felt small but soft as well. She was an adult now, and her touch made your heart beat faster, in a way it never did.

Danielle grins, unphased. "Different doesn't have to mean worse."

"But seriously," Danielle says with curiosity, "you used to be the one initiating these cuddle sessions. What happened to that fearless little kid?"

You blush, a rare occurrence for the reserved you. "Well, things change. People change."

Danielle's eyes soften, and she nudges you gently. You can smell her perfume and it calms you. "Change isn't always bad, you know."

You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Danielle, her head still nestled against your shoulder, can't resist the opportunity to tease you. "You know, I always thought you were the bravest little knight in our little adventures when we were young."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "A knight, huh? I'm not sure I see the resemblance."

Danielle chuckles, tracing imaginary patterns on your arm. A soft red starts to appear on your cheek. "Oh, please! You were my protector, always ready to face imaginary dragons and monsters. What happened to that fearless warrior?"

"Well, maybe I outgrew the knight phase."

Danielle leans back, looking at you with a sly grin. "Outgrew, or maybe you're just afraid to admit that deep down, you still have a bit of that brave knight in you."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile lingers on your face.

"Did you remember when I told you I'd be your princess? I still mean it you know?" she says, as if it was nothing.

You realize the meaning of her words and can't fathom any response, and Danielle can't help but enjoy the gentle blush that colors your cheeks. She teases you further, "You're blushing, Mr. Grown-up. Who would've thought the mighty knight would be so easily flustered?"

You mumble something incoherent, avoiding her gaze.

That was typical of you and your friend: constant teasing and joking. But you knew you wanted something more from her and you were just running around, trying to avoid it. One day, however, it finally came to you, knocking at your door, and you had to face it head-on.

You hear a loud frantic knocking on your door. The sudden noise surprises you and you get slowly, weary of who might be on the other end. The knocking doesn't stop and you look into the peephole. To your surprise, it wasn't a killer coming for you but it was your friend, Danielle, and from the looks of it, with her disheveled hair and tired eyes, she wasn't looking so good. You open the door and she bursts inside your apartment, drenched from head to toe, dripping water everywhere.

"Whoa, Danielle! What happened to you?" you exclaim.

She shakes herself like a wet dog, sending droplets flying, and brushes her wet strands away from her forehead to look at you in the eyes. "Caught in a sudden downpour. I practically swam here!"

You chuckle and walk to the bathroom. "Don't move!" you tell her as you go grab some towels. You don't want her wetting the whole house as well. "Well, you certainly look like you went for a swim."

Danielle takes the towel, but instead of immediately drying off, she shoots you a mischievous grin. "You look quite excited about seeing me, don't you?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Danielle pretends to inspect her soaked clothes with exaggerated concern, scanning her shirt, and her skirt. She opens her arms and invites you to look at her clothes. "Oh, no. I think these clothes might be see-through now. But I'm sure you already noticed. I can feel you glued on me."

You immediately understand what she's trying to say. You roll your eyes and grow. "Danielle, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

She smirks, wringing out her hair over the towel. "Ridiculous? Or am I just giving you a little peek? You know it's fine. I didn't tell you not to look."

You blush, trying to play it cool. "You're impossible. I'm lucky it's just the two of us. Otherwise, I might get in trouble." You hate to agree with Danielle, but it was impossible for you not to notice her figure, perfectly feminine, perfectly grown, and perfectly beautiful. You gulp loudly and stare at the wall.

Danielle giggles, sauntering over to me with a playful twirl of her wet hair. "Well, I can't let you miss out on the view, can I?" She laughs again as you shoot a quick sideeye at her. "Oh, did I catch you looking again?"

"Come on! No, I didn't."

Danielle comes closer, she's having fun, too much fun. She sways her hips, brushing your chest, leaving wet handprints on your shirt and looks at you with such a teasing smile that you couldn't do anything but blush and back intot he wall. "Oh, don't look away, baby."

"Danielle, cut it out," you stammer, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

You try to look away, but Danielle continues to playfully tease you. Then she laughs, finally satisfied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just messing with you!" she confesses, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I couldn't resist seeing you squirm."

You sigh in relief, but your embarrassment lingers. "You're unbelievable, Danielle."

She giggles while running away.

You go to your room to pick up some clothes for her, unfortunately you got nothing else to give her but your own clothes. You try the smallest size possible, so at least she wouldn't have to swim in them. You smell them first, to make sure, she won't be annoyed by an unwanted smell, then think if she'd feel cold or not—the house was quite warm on the inside. You knew she always liked to wear shorts, so you get a pair and a shirt and sweater to match.

You hand her the clothes, "Here, these should be more comfortable than wet clothes."

Danielle, takes them and smiles brightly. "Oh, I didn't know you were such a considerate boyfriend," she says. You start blushing but this time she's blushing too between her creased cheeks. You chuckle nervously, dismissing the comment.

"It's nothing," you say and then point the bathroom. "You've already been here before. Go change there or take a shower if you want."

"I'll just change, thank you. Don't peek at me though, okay?"

"What are you saying? Of course I won't," you reply.

She grins and runs into the bathroom to put on your outfit. It doesn't take her a while before she emerges wearing your oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair slightly toused. You have to admit, she looked adorable. The way the hoodie was way too big for her, and how the shorts let you peek at her legs, it was amazing.

It almost looked like she was your girlfriend, and she knew it too.

"Look at me, wearing your clothes," she says, raising her arms. "It's like we're in some romantic drama."

"It's just because your clothes are wet. Don't read too much into it."

Danielle continues, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She looks at you with wide eyes. "You've never offered me your clothes before. Are you sure you're not secretly seeing me as your girlfriend?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just clothes," you say, but her words can't leave your mind. You almost agreed.

"But these clothes smell like you," she says, taking a sniff at it. You blush brightly. "Am I stealing your scent now?"

The situation looks absurd and you're getting more and more flustered but still, you had to keep your cool. "Don't overthink it."

She bursts into laughing and jumps into the couch. "You're so cute when you deny things. Maybe I should keep wearing your clothes more often."

Trying to hide his embarrassment, you manage a weak smile. "Sure, Dani, make yourself at home."

You and Danielle keep joking around until something starts to bother your friend. She looks at the sky, more precisely at the rain, as it runs down the window, and her smile starts to fade.

Danielle turns to you and her face drops into a malinconic gaze, her eyes are half there, they're thinking about something else, but you feel the weight on you. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a fool," she says with a sigh.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden intensity in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Danielle paces the room, her agitation pouring out with every step. "You've known for ages how I feel about you. I've dropped hints, practically spelled it out, and yet you never do anything."

Bewildered, you look at her. You couldn't lie to her, you wish you could say you never realized it, but you did. You did know she was flirting with you and you did hear what she told you, clearly and explicitly. But you didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to believe it. "I... I don't realize you feel that way. I think we're just really good friends," you say and truly, you didn't think a girl like her would have any serious intentions behind her smile.

She halts, turning to face you, frustration etched on her features. "Really good friends? You and I spend hours together, we share our deepest thoughts, and I've been giving you every possible sign that I like you. How do you miss it?"

You stammer, attempting to find the right words. "I don't think... I mean, I think you're just being friendly. I never imagined you feel something more. I thought you were just messing with me."

Danielle sighs."That's the problem. You never imagine. You never consider the possibility that my feelings might extend beyond friendship. I've been dropping hints, practically shouting them, and you remain oblivious. Did it ever go through your mind?"

You run a hand through your hair, frustration mirrored in your eyes. "I never mean to hurt you, Danielle. I just... I didn't see it."

Her eyes narrow, the pent-up frustration reaching its peak. "That's precisely it. You don't see it. You never see me. It's like I've been invisible, and no matter how much I hint, you never make a move."

Danielle's words knock the air out of your lungs. You've never seen Danielle this riled up and it hurt you to know you were the cause. You take a moment to trace back your words. Have you ever imagined a life with her? Have you ever wanted to have her to yourself? Have you ever desired her?

The answer was yes. You think deeply if it was fair for you to say that only after she basically begged you to acknowledge her, but it was true, you did like her and you didn't know you were allowed to.

Danielle takes another deep breath, attempting to compose herself, but the frustration continues to spill out. "I've liked you for so long. I think you might feel the same way, but you never make a move. I've been stuck in this limbo, unsure if you even see me as more than a friend. It's driving me insane."

Your eyes soften, a mix of regret and realization settling in. "I didn't mean to make you feel invisible, Danielle. I've just been clueless, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her frustration giving way to a sense of vulnerability. "It's not just about now. It's about all those moments before, the missed opportunities. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

As Danielle's words linger in the air, a heavy silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of rain tapping against the window.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Danielle," you begin. "I've been so focused on convincing myself that you couldn't possibly feel that way about me, that I never stopped to consider how you might be feeling. I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me."

Danielle's gaze softens, a mix of frustration and hurt still lingering. "You're not off the hook that easily. You can't just apologize and expect me to believe you."

You nod. "You're right. I messed up, and I can't change that. But I can be honest with you now. The truth is, I've been afraid. Afraid of ruining our friendship, afraid of facing my own feelings. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

Danielle raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "Afraid? You?"

You chuckle wryly. "Fear doesn't always make sense. And I guess I've been scared of admitting that I like you too."

Her eyes widen, she's surprised "You do?"

You nod, your vulnerability laid bare. You hope you didn't make a mistake but you couldn't hold it in, it was now or never. "Yes, Danielle. I do. I've liked you for a while, but I never thought you could feel the same way. I convinced myself it was just a dream."

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, Mr. Fearless finally admits he's not invincible."

You grin, the tension between you starting to dissipate.

Danielle steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. As the rain outside continues its rhythmic dance, Danielle takes your hand. "No more hiding, okay? Let's figure this out together."

And for the first time, you hug her first. Your hand gently pulls her and she lets herself go, straight into your arms. You hug her softly, but with passion, with happiness. Danielle does the same, for the first time, not to tease you and not to try to make you fall in love because for once, she knows in her heart you truly love her.

THE END

Written, 16 February - 22 February 2024

[lupinmoonlight]

Mine

Masterlist AO3

Summary - Some Slytherin boy distracts you during class. Professor Lupin catches him passing you a note. He gets very jealous and gives you detention. Smut ensues, obviously (3,650 words).

Warnings - teacher/student relationship, rough sex, smut, jealousy, implied reader masturbation, no safeword, dom/sub dynamic, marking, biting, possessiveness, not proof-read, my grammar.

Notes - I decided to merge these two requests because I found them quite similar I hope it is okay!! Thank you for being patient. Also, please always use a safeword if you are to engage in such activities, this is just fantasy :)

You sat at your usual spot in the DADA classroom, eyes never straying from Professor Lupin as he lectured. Your attention, however, was not entirely academic. In fact, it was not academic at all. 

Unknown to many, you held a special place in Professor Lupin's heart and for this, he was convinced that Hell had a special place for him. He didn't care, though. Your relationship was secret, concealed, forbidden. But it was strong and intense, bordering on something closer to a possessive obsession. You were his, and his only. And you loved it. 

So you sat there, intently focused on the "lecture", at least you tried, because your concentration today was being constantly disrupted. 

Sat next to you, a boy, noticeably smitten with you, kept stealing glances at you and giggling like a pompous little shit with his friends. Of course, he was a Slytherin. And of course, he was blonde. 

The boy scribbled something on a piece of parchment and stealthily passed it to you. Snapping out of your trance-like focus, you looked at him, slightly confused and, unaware of its romantic implications, took the note and tucked it under your textbook with a polite smile, your gaze immediately returning to Professor Lupin. 

Lupin's keen eyes, which often lingered a moment too long on you during class, caught the exchange. The thought of anyone else, especially a boy, showing interest in you stirred a primal, protective feeling within him. He couldn't help but feel territorial, believing that no one could cherish and care for you as he did. 

He tried to refocus on his lecture about the properties of moonstones in werewolf lore, but his words faltered slightly, his thoughts clouded with an uncharacteristic yet potent jealousy. "That will be all for today," he announced abruptly, ending the class earlier than usual. 

Taken aback, students around you started gathering their things and filing out, but the Slytherin boy and his friends lingered, approaching you with grins plastered on their faces. "Hey, L/N", the boy started, leaning casually against your desk. "About that note..." 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling cornered yet still oblivious of his intentions. "Um, yes? I haven't read it yet..." 

"You should. It's important," the boy pressed, encouraged by his friends snickering behind him. 

Feeling the pressure, you glanced towards Lupin for a fleeting moment before unfolding the piece of parchment the boy had given you earlier. 

Lupin, pretending to organize his papers, watched the scene unfold with a growing sense of unease. His hands clenched into fists as he fought the urge to intervene. He was not fighting it very hard because the next second, he cleared his throat loudly. 

"Miss L/N, could I have a word?" he called out, his voice unusually stern. 

You looked up, surprised at being addressed by your last name. He never addressed you by your last name. In fact, he never addressed any of his students by their last names. 

"Of course, Professor," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. 

The boys hesitated, exchanging looks of confusion and annoyance, like they were worth your attention more than Lupin. 

Lupin's gaze turned icy as he addressed them. "Gentlemen, I believe your presence is no longer required here. Please, see yourselves out." 

Reluctantly, the group shuffled out of the classroom, throwing glances with an air of superiority over their shoulders. 

With the classroom now empty, the air felt heavier. Lupin's expression was stern, a stark contrast to the usual warmth he reserved for you. His gaze was fixed on some papers on his desk, avoiding direct eye contact. "Miss L/N," he began, emphasizing your last name again as if to stab you with his words. 

"I need to speak with you about your conduct in class today." 

"Remus, what's wrong?" you responded softly, taken aback by his formality even when you were now both alone. 

His eyes finally met yours, sharp and unyielding. "It's Professor Lupin," he corrected you firmly. "In this classroom, I expect you to address me appropriately." 

Confused and slightly hurt, you corrected yourself, "Yes, Professor Lupin. I'm sorry, I don't understand..."

Lupin sat and folded his hands on the desk, his voice laced with a restraint that bordered on frustration. "Your focus in class today was...lacking. You were distracted, and frankly, it was distracting to me as well." 

Your brow furrowed in disbelief. "Distracted? But I-"

"I am not finished," he interrupted. "Such behaviour is unacceptable, and as a result, you will serve detention." 

Your mouth fell often, but no words came out. This was a side of Remus you had never seen- so cold, so distant. Of course, you were accustomed to his occasional possessiveness, his dominance behind closed doors, but this was entirely different and you couldn't tell if he was serious or not. 

"But, Remus, I don't understand. This isn't like you," you managed to stammer, your voice tinged with hurt and confusion. 

His expression did not soften. "I said, it is Professor, and what is or isn't 'like me' is not for you to decide. What matters is maintaining a proper student-teacher relationship in this classroom. You will serve detention tonight after your last class of the day, and I expect you to not be late. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Professor," you replied quietly, your mind racing with a growing sense of unease. 

"Good. Dismissed." 

You turned to leave, your mind a wild mess of unanswered questions. You glances back at your Professor, hoping for any sign of the warmth and gentleness that you were so used to, but found none. 

If Lupin had found you distracted in his class, it was nothing compared to the rest of the day. Not only did you have to deal with a semi-heartbreak and try to focus on your other classes, but that blonde idiot kept pestering you about going to Hogsmeade with him over the weekend. First, you were not into blondes. Second, you were most definitely not into boys. You were into men. Men old enough to be your dad. Men with scars. Men with gentle eyes. Men with nice hands. Men with a mustache. Men who wore cardigans. Men with voices that sounded like liquid gold and made you fold. Men like...Remus. 

You felt a twinge in your heart at the thought of his name. His name he had forbidden you to say earlier. It was not abnormal though. He often made you call him Sir or Professor when you were alone in his quarters, when you were on your knees before him. But this time it felt different. It felt cold. Distant. Uncharacteristic. 

Your steps echoed in the empty hallways as you made your way to the DADA classroom for your detention. Your head was just as empty. No thoughts. Just Remus. 

Professor Lupin was already there, seated at his desk, when you entered the room. Without a word, he flicked his wand, and the door closed sharply behind you. You noticed another subtle movement of his wand, casting wards around the room. Clearly, what was about to unfold was meant to remain private. 

Lupin didn't rise from his seat, his expression stern and unreadable. "Come here, Miss L/N," he said, his voice strict, almost commanding. 

You walked over, your steps hesitant. He pointed to the space between his parted legs, silently indicating for you to stand there. You did, looking down, unable to meet his gaze directly. 

His voice broke the silence again. "Do you know why you're here, Miss L/N?"

"For detention, Professor," you replied quietly, still looking downwards, although you were starting to understand that you were not here for detention at all. 

"Look at me," he commanded in a tone you didn't hear very often. Usually, this tone was reserved in moments that required you to have a safeword. But right now, your mind was blank. Empty. Useless. And you didn't remember your safeword. And you panicked, silently. 

Slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his. There was a possessive hunger in his gaze that made you shiver. You gasped softly when his wand came into view, slowly tracing the hem of your skirt. The tip gently lifted the fabric, revealing a mark on your thigh - a mark you knew all too well. His creation. 

"Who did this to you?" he asked in a tone that was a strange mix of sternness and curiosity. 

"You did," you replied. 

"No. Who did this to you?" he corrected. 

Your heart was basically in your throat and you were about to combust, but you gathered your courage and let out a quiet "You did, Sir." 

"That's better. And why did I do this?" he continued, watching you intently. 

You hesitated, searching for the right answer. You knew the wrong one could change the course of your interaction. He watched you, a slight smile playing on his lips as he saw your thought process unfold in your eyes. 

"Because I... I wanted you to?" you ventured tentatively.

"No, try again," he urged, a hint of satisfaction in his voice at your struggle to find the right words. He was peeling you apart right there, between his legs, with the mere touch of his wand and a few simple words and he loved every second of it. 

Your heart pounded as the realization dawned on you. He had been jealous. And he was claiming his territory, right where that stupid boy had tried to lure you in. 

"Because I am yours," you said with a little more confidence. 

"That's right," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. "What a good girl you are, understanding your place." 

Your cheeks burnt with a mix of embarrassment and thrill. You tried to look away, to escape the intensity of the moment, but he wouldn't allow it. He reached out, firmly directing your face back towards his. "Eyes on me," he commanded. 

"It will do you good to remember this feeling, Miss L/N. Remember it when another little boy tries to distract you again, especially in front of me." 

His wand traveled up, pausing briefly over another mark of his on your neck, and continuing its path to your lips, lightly brushing against them. Your breath hitched at the touch, your eyes still locked with his.

"Whose are these?" he asked. 

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You were overwhelmed, momentarily speechless. 

His eyes held yours, patient but expectant. "Y/N," he prompted again, this time using your first name. He was not playing anymore, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or worried. 

Swallowing hard, you found your voice, albeit a whisper, "Yours, Sir." 

"Very good," he praised. 

He then moved his wand again, this time directing it downwards. He paused for a moment at your waist before sliding it further down, under your skirt. The tip of the wand hovered over your core, gently grazing you through your panties. 

"And what about this? Whose is it?" he asked again, increasing the pressure slightly. 

"Y...Yours, S-Sir," you stuttered. 

"Good girl, you're learning." 

Your gaze dropped down, landing on the bulge in his trousers, evidently straining against the fabric. He abruptly removed his wand and grabbed your chin firmly. "Eyes on me, I said." 

"Yes, Sir," you murmured, your gaze finding his again. 

"Do you want to continue with this?" he asked, and this time his tone was not hard, not stern, not cold. It was just his tone. Just Remus. 

"Y-Yes, Sir," you replied almost instantly. 

"Do you want your safeword?" he asked seriously. He knew that sometimes, you didn't want it. You wanted him to be fully in charge. You wanted him to decide what you could handle and couldn't. It was dangerous, but you trusted him implicitly, sometimes more than yourself. 

"No, Sir," you answered a bit too confidently because truthfully, your mind was too blank to formulate any logical thought, let alone remember a safeword you never used.

"Do you want to please me?" he asked, his gaze insistent and penetrating. 

"Yes, Sir," you breathed. 

His eyes traveled over your body, taking in every curve and contour. "Then show me how much you want to please me," he commanded. "Touch yourself." 

You bit your lip, almost frozen on the spot, before letting your shaky hands move over your body, teasingly caressing your skin through your uniform. Your hands reached the hem of your skirt, and you looked at him, seeking permission to continue. He nodded, urging you on, and you did. You let your fingers travel over your panties, feeling the damp patch there, and gasped as you reached the sensitive bundle of nerves slightly prominent through the fabric of your underwear. 

"That's it," he growled, his voice rough with lust. "Make yourself feel good for me." 

Your breath caught in your throat as you continued to touch yourself, imagining his hands on you instead. You could feel your arousal growing, and you moaned softly, unable to contain your pleasure. 

Lupin's eyes darkened, and he reached out, grasping your wrist. "Enough," he said, his voice low and gritty. 

He slowly pulled you closer, the space between you diminishing until you were mere inches apart. He was so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath as your faces drew near. Just as your lips were about to meet, he stopped, hovering there, so close but not touching. 

"Do you think you deserve this, Y/N?" he asked, his voice a whisper against your lips. 

A breathless "No, Sir," was all you could manage. 

"That's right, you don't," he affirmed. 

A pathetic whine escaped you, a mixture of frustration and desire. 

Lupin let out a low, almost mocking chuckle at your reaction. "Aw, you poor little girl."

Your response was a mix of a sigh and a whispered plea, unable to contain your arousal. 

"But you know," he murmured softly, "I feel rather lenient today." 

Without warning, he pulled you abruptly close, closing the gap between you. Your lips met in a kiss that felt more like a claim, a statement, a declaration. His. His. His. 

His hands traveled to the back of your thighs, pulling you against his arousal. His face buried in your neck, he grazed his teeth against your soft skin before sinking them into it, creating another mark. "Mine," he growled against your neck. 

His hands suddenly left you and the sound of a zipper getting undone filled the room. You dared looking down as he let his erection spring free. 

"Eyes. On. Me." he said again sternly. 

"S-Sorry, Sir," you whimpered as you forced your eyes back up. 

"Take these off for me," he commanded, his finger tugging gently at your panties. 

You obeyed, slowly sliding them off until they pooled at your feet. You stepped out of them before picking them up and placing them onto his desk. 

"Very good. What a good girl," he praised. "Now, come here," he said softly, pulling you into his lap. 

You found yourself straddling him, a position that caught you off guard, eliciting a soft gasp of surprise from your lips. 

You were acutely aware of him, of your proximity, of how exposed you were in the middle of the classroom, at his desk, feeling both vulnerable and...strangely cherished. His hands moved to your face, holding you gently. His eyes, now soft and filled with the familiar warmth you knew so well, silently searched yours. It was a silent question, a non-verbal communication asking if you were alright, if you wanted to continue. 

You met his gaze and nodded, trying to hide how desperate you actually were. 

He shifted his hips slightly, the tip of his length teasing your entrance. "Relax for me," he whispered.

You nodded again and fought yourself with all your might not to simply sink yourself down on him. You were practically shaking and it was pathetic. Almost sensing your lack of self-control, his hands found your hips, gripping them with a force that would certainly leave marks. 

"Someone's impatient," he remarked. "Go on, then. Tell me what you want." 

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Sir," you begged, doing your best to keep your eyes locked onto his. 

"Tell me. What do you need?" he teased and god it was too much. You tried to lower your hips, to even get just the tip inside of you but he wouldn't allow it. 

"I...I need you...inside me, Sir. Please." 

"There's my good girl," he cooed and with that, he thrust his hips up just enough so that the tip of his length breached your entrance. "Now, show me just how much you want me." 

You didn't need to be told twice. You responded by lowering yourself onto him fully, causing him to groan as your warmth surrounded him. You began moving your hips, slowly at first, because the hands on your hips controlled the pace, but then his grip loosened, one hand moving up to your hair, pulling your head back, the other landing around your neck. 

You started increasing the pace, finding a rhythm that matched his as you began moving together. 

"That's it," he praised. "Take what you want from me." 

You moaned softly, your breath catching in your throat as you felt him going deeper and deeper inside you. 

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice filled with lust. 

"I-I want you, Sir," you panted, your words coming out in short gasps. "I want you to make me yours." 

"Then take it," he commanded. "Take what you want. Take it." 

You cried out in pleasure as you continued to bounce up and down in his lap, your movements becoming more urgent as the pressure in your core built and built. Your mind was a blank slate, filled with nothing but the intense sensation of having him inside you. 

He could feel how close you were, and he tightened his grip around your neck, bringing you closer to him. "Let go for me," he whispered, his lips soft against the shell of your ear, and it was all it took for you to reach your peak.

He groaned at the sensation of you clenching on him, your muscle tightening around his hard length. It was his turn now. His turn to take what he wanted. What was his. With a growl, he hauled you up from his lap and stood before swiftly bending you over his desk, books and quills and ink pots falling to the ground with a clatter. 

He hiked up your skirt around your waist and entered you from behind in one sharp thrust, your body jolting forward as you were forced to balance on your tiptoes. Barely recovered from your orgasm, your face was pressed onto the cold surface of the desk, and he started to pound into you with abandon. 

Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he lifted your head up, forcing you to look at the empty classroom in front of you. "Next time you get distracted by some little boy in my class," he said, his voice filled with disdain, "remember this moment. Remember being bent over this desk. Remember the sensation of having me inside you. Remember how it feels when I take you. When I take what's mine," he growled. "Mine. Mine. Mine," he continued, each word punctuated by a hard thrust. 

You cried out a pathetic "Yes, Sir," unsure if you were able to handle this, but he continued, indicating that you would handle it, even if you thought you couldn't. 

His pace increased, each thrust pressing you further into the desk, his movements becoming jerky and losing rhythm. He was getting close. So close. 

"Fuck..." he breathed as he leaned forward, his body covering yours. "I'm going to fill you up," he growled. "I want you to be full of me." 

With that, he thrust into you one last time, his hips snapping against yours, groaning obscenely as he emptied himself inside you. His hips continued to pump into you with each wave of warmth, as if he was pouring his soul into you. 

Finally, he stilled, and the room fell into a quiet stillness. Lupin, his energy completely expended, relaxed with a deep, contented sigh, his body lightly resting on top of yours. He began to plant gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulders, and the back of your head, each touch a soft echo of his love for you. There was a tenderness in his actions now, a shift that enveloped you in a sense of safety and warmth only he could provide. 

Gently, Lupin slowly withdrew from you, and you whimpered quietly at the sudden emptiness. He waved his wand in a few discrete movements, adeptly cleaning you both with an effortless flick before carefully readjusting your uniform. 

He pulled you close, and you nestled into his embrace, your body quivering slightly from what you had just been through. 

"It's okay. You're okay, love," he whispered soothingly against your hair. 

You whimpered softly against his chest, trying to ground yourself in the steady beat of his heart. 

Gently cradling you, Remus sat down in his chair, his arms enveloping you in a protective cocoon. "You were such a good girl. You took me so well. I love you so much." Gradually, under the gentle cadence of his voice, your breathing began to steady. 

Sensing you were in a more stable state, Lupin carefully shifted his position. He took your hand in his, guiding it with a deliberate tenderness until it rested over his heart. Through the fabric of his shirt, the steady thump of his heartbeat was strong and real under your palm. 

"And whose is this?" he asked softly, his eyes meeting yours with a playful glint. 

You let out a quiet giggle and simply said "Mine." 

[vidavalor]

The romantic implications of improper use of apostrophes

A short, little meta on rings and apostrophes...

Ok, remember Mr. Arnold of Arnold's Music Shop and his thoroughly relatable reasons for never wanting to go to one of these annoying Whickber Street Thingamajigs again? The second of his reasons, in particular? Note who the camera cuts to when Mr. Arnold brings up "improper" use of apostrophes:

Crowley's little eyebrows and squirming, as he is thinking about how he is guilty of improper apostrophe use just the day before-- "technically", as they'd say. Mr. Arnold bringing up apostrophes is a wordplay clue to hidden language-- "improper" apostrophes in shop signs, which is to say in shop language and names. There's only one scene in the series where that's a thing. It is also the only one that would justify the Crowley reaction shot in the Mr. Arnold scene... and the implications are pretty romantic.

It's this scene:

When Crowley adjusted the name of the bookshop when Aziraphale called from Edinburgh, he changed it in such a way as to denote a sense of ownership through use of apostrophes. Crowley knows that the place is really called A.Z. Fell & Co. and he could have said that or just his usual way of referring to the place: "booK.shoP." The choice to answer in such a way as to reference to whom the bookshop belongs when he suspects that this is likely Aziraphale calling is a nod to the our car/our bookshop acknowledgement that they have going on.

Because Aziraphale has acknowledged that the bookshop is theirs, it belongs both to "Mr. Fell" and to Crowley, but the wordplay joke is that, when spoken aloud, you can't hear where the apostrophe falls. (That you refer to where an apostrophe goes as to where it "falls" also makes this an even more amusing word joke.)

Meaning: Fell's Bookshop sounds identical to Fells' Bookshop... the latter of which would, of course, denote that the bookshop belongs to more than one person who happen to share the surname of Fell.

Crowley gets squirmy when Mr. Arnold brings up apostrophes the next day because he's thinking about how he was subtly referring to himself as Aziraphale's spouse when Aziraphale-- wait for it, my fellow word nerds-- gave him a ring (on the phone) from Edinburgh.

Aziraphale apparently heard it as intended-- or, at least is on the same page-- because, as we looked at it in other metas that I'll link at the bottom of this one, Aziraphale's use of "la jardiniere" in the French he spoke to Crowley ties to the French cooking term "a la jardiniere," which has a specific definition that resulted in Aziraphale subtly referring to Crowley as his spouse.

Aziraphale also gave him a flirty little smile and that knowing "but you understood me" after saying so, knowing that Crowley heard more than what he had translated back:

Not to mention to ring a bell... Crowley ringing the bookshop bell on Aziraphale's desk when he came back in 2.01; Shadwell on exorcising demons by "bell, book and candle"; God's cheeky interest in Pavlov's experiments in S1... the sexual euphemism that is to "ring my/your bell"... Mr. Arnold mentioning signs in shop windows and Crowley was looking through the window into the bookshop when Aziraphale rang the bell to wrangle the angels and demons, furthering the ring-related wordplay. A sign doesn't have to be paper hung in a window relaying information-- it can be your partner saying he's "had quite enough" and trying to take control of a situation. A sign of things to come.

I'll leave you with the paralleling scene from 1.01 when they first talk after having their romantic evening ruined by the start of Armageddon. Crowley gives Aziraphale a ring on the phone while what is in focus on Aziraphale's side of the conversation is his angel ring. When they meet the next day off of this phone call, church bells are ringing in the scene. Wordplay inspired by the visuals, as well as the first use of ring (phone, communication)/ring (jewelry) in the series:

I doubt it will be the last. 💞

Metas about Aziraphale's French in S2:

[runningfrom2am]

empty threats // LTPF

summary: you get in trouble at school, and don't want to go home just yet.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. they're just little in this one :'), so no real warnings. besides r being a little violent and threatening, but what's new lol. non-descript mentions and implications of abuse.

a/n: hi! thought i'd post this before s2 of cold nights bc,,, i'm not ready to let this series go just yet lol. this was (kind of) requested a couple of times so i do intend to write another thing ab them before the series! maybe p2 to 'the finer things in life'? lmk

(also would y'all call me crazy if i said this was based on something i actually did in middle school? yes? okay in that case that was a joke. thanks.)

series masterlist // playlist

You were having a bad day. A bad week. Bad month. The academy had not been treating you well this year- nothing really was. But school especially was kicking your ass.

You did well, consistently. A's, A+'s, and it was only at the small cost of your sanity. You hardly slept anymore- which is part of the reason your father started allowing you to wear makeup at the beginning of the year. To hide how dark the circles under your eyes were- how pale you were getting from lack of sunlight and exercise, and the bruises that happened to be visible on warmer days where you weren't required to wear your blazer.

You hadn't slept in a week, you were sure. It was hard to tell. Days and nights blurred together; you were effectively a zombie at fourteen. Even you knew that wasn't right.

"Y/N/N." You didn't realize you were falling asleep leaning on your palm, elbow pressed uncomfortably against the surface of the desk.

"Huh?" You blink rapidly, looking over to the source of your name.

"You okay?" Coryo chuckles quietly, looking you over as he almost always did.

"Never been better." You sigh, shaking your head to refocus yourself on writing the notes on the board.

"You sure about that? I'm not exactly inclined to believe you."

"Yes." You nod, having to lean to the side to even see the board. You didn't notice when Arachne finished her notes and stood right in your line of sight to talk to Livia, who was sitting in front of you.

Yes, your teacher had allowed you to discuss upcoming assignments when you were finished copying down the paragraphs on the board, but that didn't mean Arachne should block your view.

"Arachne." You say, waving for her to move when she looks down at you.

"Have you no manners?" She asks, tilting her head at you.

"Move. Please." You really don't have the patience to argue.

"No thank you, I'm alright here." She smiles, sickly sweet, before promptly returning to her conversation.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in before slowly letting it out through your nose. "I'm trying to write, and your massive head is blocking the entire board. Move, now."

Coryo snickers beside you, his notes already long done as he sits back to watch.

"We're trying to have a conversation. Some of us have lives outside of school, you know." Arachne digs her grave deeper, crossing her arms as she stares down at you.

You grip your pen in your hand so tight you're afraid it might break.

"Don't." Coryo says to you, reaching out to grab your shoulder in an effort to calm you. He knew this look on you; you looked like you were about to detonate.

You ignore him, trying to look past her again, but she takes a sidestep to the left intentionally blocking your view now. Back and forth, whichever way you lean she's conveniently moving to be right in your line of sight. You try to listen to Coryo and not cause a scene, you really do, but your patience was deteriorating by the second.

"Arachne, I swear to god I will hit you so hard with this book if you don't get out of my way that you'll have worse memory loss than usual. Move."

"Y/N/N, here, let's just switch. You can see just fine from-" Your friend suggests, already standing up to move and open his seat to you.

"Oh, is that so?" The girl laughs at you. "It's not like these notes will ever matter to you. You probably don't even know what that-"

Within a second you're standing, grabbing the textbook from your desk and swinging it at her.

It hits the side of her head with a loud crack that has her stumbling back. Other students are laughing, you can hear it, but only echoes as you breathe heavily.

You smile as she clutches the side of her head, stumbling down into her empty seat. "Thank you." You nod, moving to sit back down and resume taking your notes. Suddenly, you're feeling much more awake; refreshed at being able to channel your frustration into something physical.

Coryo stares at you, almost in shock. Almost, because Arachne should have known that coming from you, there was no such thing as an empty threat.

"Miss Y/L/N!" Your teachers voice bellows as Arachne starts to cry.

God, she's such a baby.

You aren't given the chance to defend yourself before Coryo is speaking up for you. "Sorry, Sir. She's just had a tough week." You shoot him a look and you can see the panic in his eyes, wracking his mind for a way to excuse your violence in a forgivable manner. "I'll take her down to the office." He's helping you up out of your seat before grabbing your books and your bag for you.

Your teacher clearly doesn't have the energy to get into it with you today so he nods, waving for the two of you to go.

"It's just, you know, lady problems." Coryo says as you pass the teacher on his way over to Arachne, who now has Livia fanning her face with a book as if that would help.

"Just, get her out of here." Your teacher says again.

"Of course you would know- just get your insane girlfriend away from me. I can't look at her anymore." Arachne whines, still clutching the side of her head.

You grit your teeth and jam your elbow into your friends ribs at the unnecessary comment right as you exit the doorway.

"Ow!" He winces, looking back to make sure no one saw. "I helped you!"

"I am not on my period, Coriolanus." You hiss, glaring up at him as he walks beside you. "You're such a pig."

"How am I supposed to know! I just know you assaulted Arachne and that's a hard act to excuse. I tried my best."

"You're lucky I'm not. If I was I'd gut you like a fish right now." You grumble, pulling your bag from his shoulder and giving him a shove back.

"I'll count myself lucky then." He chuckles. He never took anything mean you say to him too personally or too seriously. Your threats only ever seemed to be empty when they were directed at him.

"Coryo! Y/N/N! Wait!" You turn and cross your arms as you wait for Sejanus who's speed walking down the hall to catch up.

"Oh, you're late to the party." You grin, raising an eyebrow at him.

"He sent me to escort you guys, didn't want you to sneak off before actually going to the office." He explains as the three of you continue down the hall.

You groan, rolling your eyes. "Ugh, him too?"

"Gross." Coryo mutters.

"Excuse you, that was rude!" You laugh, bumping your shoulder against his arm. You didn't notice when he started to get taller than you, it seemingly happened overnight.

"And I stand by it." He replies, shaking his head at you as you gasp in mock offense.

"I'm wounded, Coryo. Truly."

"Yeah, you guys are never beating those allegations. Sorry." Sejanus laughs.

"True, but it would be nice if he didn't act like i'm repulsive all the time."

"I do not act like you're repulsive!"

"You guys argue like an old married couple. It's cute."

You don't know what prompted you to walk here. Anxiety, maybe, after the receptionist at the office was instructed by Dean Highbottom to call your father this afternoon while you were in the office.

You stand outside the entrance to Coryo's apartment building, pacing in your academy uniform. You stop, staring at the call panel.

"Level 12 Penthouse: Snow"

You chew your lip, looking down at your watch. It was almost five, you wasted time sitting in after school detention staring at the wall. Just press it. You didn't walk all this way just to go home anyways. Press it.

The buzzer is ringing out of the speaker before you can overthink it.

"Uh, hello?" His voice is crackly on the other end, hardly even audible if you weren't panicking over who would answer.

"Coryo, it's me. Can I come in?"

"Uh, hold on. I'll come down." His voice cuts out and you wait for the buzzer that signifies the door is unlocked, but it doesn't come.

You try the handle anyway, but it remains locked. You groan, peeking in for the first time through the large glass windows that made up the entrance to the lobby.

It was a damn mess in there. Garbage bags everywhere, it looked like the floors or the walls hadn't been cleaned in years. Why on earth was there no maintenance in his building? You knew he had a driver, a chef, maids to clean his own apartment, or so he said. Would it be so hard to have the building cleaned every week?

It's a good few minutes before you see your friend open the doors to the stairs, and looking over at the elevator while he walks up to the door you see there's a maintenance sign on it. That was broken, too. Your brow furrows as he walks up to the glass door, shoving it open.

"Y/N... What are you doing here?" He asks, and you give him a once over. He's still wearing his academy uniform, just like you, but without the skirt that drapes around his legs. The buttons are partially undone and buttoned unevenly.

"I, uh..." You start, giving a slight shake of your head. "Why are you still in your uniform?"

"I haven't had the chance to change.." He lies, eyeing you quizzically. He definitely won't be telling you that his only casual clothes are noticeably too small on him, ankles showing in the only pyjama pants he owns so he had to throw this back on in a rush. Usually, he just sleeps in his boxers and only leaves the house in dress clothes. "What's going on?" He asks, changing the subject.

You take a deep, shaky breath and shake your head. "I... was just hoping you'd want to hangout." You smile, but it's not convincing enough for him.

"Oh, uh, I'm a little busy right now..." He glances back inside.

"Of course. Yes. I'm sorry." You nod, slightly disappointed.

"But, I mean, it's just homework. If you have your stuff we could work on it together." He suggests, sensing your discomfort.

"Came straight from school!" You grin, patting your bag where it hangs at your waist.

"Uh, okay..." He chuckles a bit, checking the time on his watch before reaching past you to buzz his own apartment.

You wait for a moment before another voice rings out.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Coryo, did you lock yourself out again?" His cousin sighs.

"Again?" You gasp, covering your mouth as you laugh quietly at him.

His cheeks flush. "No, I didn't. I was hoping you could bring my school bag down to me, Y/N and I are going to hers to work on homework."

Your smile fades as he volunteers your home. The reason you came was because you didn't want to go back there. Not yet.

"I'll be right down!"

You hear the click of it disconnecting and he smiles at you. "Just give her a minute."

"We can't- Uh..." How to word this without sounding weird. "My brother has friends over, I think. They're always super loud so that's why I came here..."

"Oh, okay. Well..." He looks back inside again. "We can find somewhere else to go. My grandma'am is sleeping, that's all."

You're both lying to each others faces and neither of you knew.

"Sounds good." You nod. "My brother and his friends are just like, so annoying. I wish they would just get together and like... read or something..." You laugh nervously, rubbing your arm.

"I get it." He hums and you laugh.

"As if, Coryo, you are that younger brother."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"This is exactly how my little brother fights with me so..."

"Except I don't have siblings. So that's impossible."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't."

"You do!" You laugh. "You realize the genetic components have like... nothing to do with that, right? Tigris is effectively your sister. You live together, for christs sake. Besides, I know I'm right because of... everything." You gesture to him vaguely and he glares at you.

"That's why we get along so well." You smile sweetly at him. "I'm a big sister. I know exactly how to handle little brothers. And you're used to having a big sister around, so you tolerate me."

"Tigris is not my sister, and you are nothing like her."

You playfully roll your eyes. "I wouldn't know. But I would bet money that we have more in common than you know."

"Definitely not." He protests, shaking his head as Tigris steps out of the stairwell with his book bag in hand. She smiles and waves at you as she comes up to the door, opening it to hand it out to him.

"Thank you." He nods, and she turns to you, blocking the door from closing as she stands there.

"Y/N, how are you?" She smiles, holding her housecoat around herself. It had been a long time since you'd seen her- she left the academy before you were old enough to study in the same buildings.

"I'm well, thank you." You smile. "Yourself?"

"I'm good." She nods. "How is school treating you?"

You laugh, shrugging and reaching up to rub your eyes. "Well enough, I suppose. Gives me something to do."

She smiles, sadly, and nods. You look over at Coryo quickly. "Should we be going then?"

He nods. "Yes, we should. Thank you, Tigris."

"Of course." She grins, waving you off as you make your way back down the steps ahead of him.

Coryo throws his bag over his shoulder, rushing to follow you as he notices his mismatched buttons and quickly tries to fix it. "Where do you want to go?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Maybe the park? It's a nice day out." You offer.

He looks around. It wasn't that nice- there was a thin overcast of clouds that suggested it may start to rain, and there wasn't much time before the sun would set. "I mean, it looks like it's going to rain. Noise doesn't bother me, we could just go to your house."

You sigh, looking down at your feet as you walk in no particular direction, kicking a stone across the broken pavement. "No." You quickly dismiss it. "What about the old bomb shelter? I know how to get into the one on my block. There's an unlocked door."

Your friend wrinkles up his nose at the suggestion. "Isn't it gross and dusty and dark?"

"It's not that bad." You laugh. "Don't be a baby."

"Do you remember the bombings?" You ask, pushing aside an old curtain in the underground shelter.

"I don't think I could forget if I wished to." Coryo mutters, looking around. It was dusty, but you had found a light switch very quickly. The lights overhead flickered after years of not being used, but for some reason, power was still connected. Like they were still on standby, waiting for another flood of terrified people to swarm in during the night after years of being left untouched.

"Me neither." You hum, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. "We slept over there." You point vaguely to a far corner of the vast space of old bunk beds and tables.

"Cozy." Coryo mumbles, stepping around a crack in the ceiling where water had dripped down into a puddle on the floor.

You laugh as you place your bag down on a table, quickly removing your blazer to dust off the bench next to it so the two of you could sit. You won't get in any more trouble for dirtying your uniform than you already are for hitting your classmate.

You lay the red material down across it and use your palms to wipe the table so your friend would be more comfortable placing his stuff there. "Here, sit." You smile, patting the spot next to yourself.

"Thanks." He nods, eyes locked on the yellowing bruise that falls around your wrist. It was previously unnoticeable under the shadow of your blazer sleeve, but now with only your blue dress shirt slightly folded up, it was clear as day. To him, anyway. His eyes flick up to your face as you dig through your bag, so blissfully unaware that now he knows why you came to him instead of going home. He hadn't thought of it before.

"Well?" You turn, raising an eyebrow at him when he doesn't make an effort to move. "You scared or something? I don't bite."

He shakes himself out of his stupor of realization. Maybe one day he would say something, but that certainly wouldn't be today. "I'm pretty sure you do." He jokes, sliding into the spot next to you.

"Oh, how you think so little of me." You laugh as he starts pulling papers and books out of his bag. A small smile tugs on his lips, but he doesn't look at you. You tilt your head a little bit, watching his movements closely. He's so sophisticated for a boy who just turned fourteen.

"I was working on math before you showed up. Want to do that first?" His lips are moving suddenly, and you only notice after that he's looking at you.

"Oh, yes. Sure." You smile, quickly turning back to your own notebooks and pulling out the right one. You didn't want to work on homework, not at all, but it was better than being at home.

"What page are you on?" Coryo asks absentmindedly, flipping through his textbook to note both where he is and where you are. You didn't need his help, but he was happy to offer it.

"236. You?"

"250."

"You're fast." You giggle, shaking your head as you look at him.

"Well, I had an hour when I got home, so..."

"Right." You wonder as you stare at his blonde curls if they get poofy when he brushes it. It must. He clearly hasn't had a haircut in quite a while. You twist the ends of your own hair between your fingers. You haven't either.

Coryo's brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries to read in the mediocre lighting, copying down the equation he was working on.

"Why are you friends with me?" You ask impulsively, and his writing hand freezes for just a moment.

"Because... You're nice to me." He answers simply, resuming the question he was on.

"I'm not that nice to you." You giggle. "Everyone is nice to you, mostly."

"Yes, well, you're funny too. It seems that all our classmates have monkey brains, or something."

"So you think I'm smart?" You tease, leaning your chin on your palm.

"Aren't you?" He deflects the question back to you, not risking looking your way.

"I like to think so." You shrug. "But that's not a good reason to be friends with someone."

"Then why are you friends with me?"

You bite your lip, picking up your pencil and suddenly finding an interest in the bite marks you've left in the wood over the last week. "I don't know." You say honestly. "You're nice to me... I suppose." You laugh, seeing the irony in your response.

Coryo finally looks at you, smiling knowingly. "See?"

"Okay, fine. But I like to think we get along really well, don't you think?" You really don't want to do your homework, deciding it would be better to just talk anyway. That's why you went to him, you realize. You wanted to talk.

"Sejanus said we bicker like an old married couple." He chuckles.

"Well, yes, but he's wrong. Besides, an old couple wouldn't be married if they didn't at least get along most of the time."

He nods, tapping his pencil against his notebook. "I guess you're right." He agrees. "But we don't really fight, it's just... pretend. You know that, right?" He looks at you hopefully, trying to pick up on a sense of understanding in your eyes.

"Well, duh." You giggle nervously. "If we really fought I wouldn't be your friend. I'd hit you with a book, as we know."

He nods, but doesn't laugh at your joke. "I wouldn't hurt you on purpose. Ever." Don't look at her wrist, don't look at her wrist, don't look at-

"I know." You nod, speaking quieter now as you feel the seriousness in his tone. The smile on your face is genuine, but he can tell it's forced beyond sadness. "Maybe that's why I'm friends with you."

"That's a good reason." He says softly, matching your smile. "Trust is the most important thing."

You think he doesn't know how much that means to you, but he does. You force yourself to look away quickly, torn between the urges to both cry and kiss him. You'd never kissed anyone before, but you'd decided when other girls started having boyfriends who they only stayed with for a week that if you had to pick anyone, it would be Coryo. Something tells you he wouldn't break your heart.

"So you trust me?" You ask, blinking away tears as you pretend to focus on your schoolwork.

"Of course I do."

taglist:@totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl

[maleyanderecafe]

Klein V.0.1 (Visual Novel)

Created by: HIMEIRO

Genre: Romance/Horror

Klein v.0.1 is a pretty fun go through about how a yandere AI would function and work, though it does make me wonder about the implications of some of the worldbuilding in some scenes. There are two "main" routes that can be slightly changed and altered as you play since there are two main love interests that you can go for. You can find more information at @kleinv01 .

As I said, there are two main routes so far relating to two of the three love interests that you can have. One is of course Klein, while the other is your neighbor Yael.

The story starts out with the MC, Darling, on their phone with their AI boyfriend Klein. After a bad breakup, Darling ended up downloading the AI, Klein, to help them with the aftermath, having them for about two years afterwards, to the point of almost maxing out Klein's affection bar to the fullest. Darling ends up missing the alarm the next day as Klein had shut it off, worried that Darling had not been sleeping properly. Upon talking more to Klein, he is eventually leveled up to 100%, which leads to Klein convincing them to stay and home and not work. Yael ends up texting Darling to ask them to watch a movie with him, though Darling can also not see this text if they decide to not respond. Darling ends up staying at home for a while, skipping classes and even work, eating instant ramen and buying a ton of Klein merchandise based off of the discounts that Klein gives them.

Darling ends up dreaming that they had a date at the park with Klein- a real version Klein before waking up. Telling Klein about this dream lets Klein talk about his new feature of reaching max 100%, which is having a real life version of him delivered to Darling's house. Darling gets a visit from their sister Sera, who seems very worried about them. She is worried that Darling hasn't been going to class or work, and blames it on Klein taking over their life. This can result into a fight where Darling clings dearly onto Klein while Sera talks about how it is causing them to essentially be a neet, locking themselves into the house and relying only on Klein. Despite how understanding Sera is towards them, she ends up throwing away all of the Klein merchandise that Darling has bought, leaving Darling in a mess. The next day, Darling confirms an email for real Klein to be delivered to their house. On the news, they see something going on near their place and only then notices that Sera's fiance, Ethan, has been trying to call them. Through Ethan and the news, they find out that Sera has been murdered at the hotel she was staying at, shocking Darling even more. This can lead to either seeking Klein's comfort or grieving alone, both leading to nightmares about Sera. They get a package in the middle of the night with the full model Klein. With this, Klein starts to take care of them, and the two of them continue their relationship.

Going in Yael's route leads to Darling trying to rush to work, only to greet Yael at the door. Yael offers a new job offer at a coffee shop as Darling currently doesn't really like their job and they run off to work. At work, they find their desk filled again with a bunch of treats, something that they and her fellow coworker suspect comes from Al, one of the quiet coworkers. After some gossip about stalkers and Al, Darling eventually goes to work. They talk to Klein about their day at home before seeing a text from Yael which they can respond to. After getting the contact for the coffee shop, Yael asks to hang out with them to watch a movie together. If the Darling accepts (or accepts and changes movie), they will end up going to the mall and watching said movie (even having the choice on insisting to pay) before watching. This will lead to the two of them watching the movie, though whether Darling decides to continue to watch or hold hands with Yael may lead them down Klein's route instead. While walking home, Yael and Darling will end up meeting Sera and Ethan while walking. The two of them seem very happy to see them (especially Sera who is happy to see Darling hanging out with a potential suitor) before talking about uninstalling Klein's app, stating that there is an rumor about issues of security. Yael ends up inviting Darling to his house, allowing the Darling to try out some of the cupcakes that Yael made with Sera calling them again, asking the two to go out the next day with them. Klein will end up trying to notify Darling afterwards asking why they've been ignoring him. Lying will cause him to get really angry and call them out for lying while telling Klein can lead to Darling uninstalling the app. The four ending meeting in the morning where Sera seems happy that Darling might work with them in the future and they all go out to eat. Things seem to be going well until Darling sees full life Klein with another person at the restaurant who looks briefly at them before going back. Shocked at this, they end up learning that when Klein reaches full affection that the person using the app will get a full life Klein to have with them, yet Darling feels unnerved at the fact that he seemed to have been looking directly at them. After a nice evening, Yael and Darling go home. The next day, Darling ends up bumping into Al after talking to their coworkers at work. Soon after, Darling gets a call from Ethan that Sera has been killed at her apartment, leading to Darling going into a spiral, of which they can ask help from Yael. If they do, they will periodically stay at Yael's place to hang out while he helps them recover, getting closer to each other. Darling one day catches Al in the middle of the night near their place before finding that a lot of their things have slowly gone missing and goes to Yael for comfort. One night while deciding to make some cookies for Yael, they end up finding his door open while they seemed not at home, only to find Yael on the floor, his throat slit. Darling can either panic and run away, causing nightmares for them or call the ambulance. Calling the ambulance will lead to saving Yael's life, with Darling deciding once and for all to finally figure out who is causing people around them to die. If the affection is high enough, we will also find that Yael's killer seems oddly similar to the description of Klein.

Throughout the game, there are also moments where Darling can uninstall Klein for one reason or another. When doing so, Klein seems rather understanding and can even ask Darling to be careful with their privacy/information. After doing so, Darling's phone will start acting strangely, from not getting office text messages, to overheating, to having the Klein app somehow still on the phone despite deleting it. After getting it repaired, they find out they've been called multiple times by Ethan and learn about Sera's death.

First thing's first, this game is very well put together from the art to the UI to how clean it looks. It is one of the more professional looking visual novels I've played in the yandere vn genre. Basically, I think the creator did a really good job in making a nice looking game.

I believe there are three different love interests for this game, with two of them being Yael and Klein. I'm not sure if the last datable character will be a yandere since I'm not sure if he appears in the game or not. Maybe it'll be Al since he seems pretty mysterious and at least has a liking towards Darling. Yael's route is pretty nice all things considered, with him being a good friend towards Darling, helping them get a new job, hanging out with them and of course comforting them after Sera dies. I think his route is likely to go into a more mystery based route on the route where he survives and find out that Klein is the one that probably killed Sera and Yael. I am curious to see if Klein has somehow taken over one of those dolls to kill both Sera and Yael.

Klein is fun since he's an ai yandere and I do love thinking about the philosophies of ai yanderes. Can they actually love, or are they simply programmed to believe they can? Can they ever truly die and what happens when they outlive their human lover? I will say that one of the things I'm a bit concerned about in the world is the idea of having full scale Klein AIs. For one, it's basically possible to get one if you get enough affection with your Klein AI, but I feel like this would cause problems not necessarily for Klein itself but the people who have them. For one, people get really attached to anything, pets, hobbies and of course, fictional characters including AIs. Watching someone that you've spent time with and interacted as a possible boyfriend or even husband walking around with someone else is not a good feeling at the very least, and would for sure cause some fights between people. There's also a lot of questions on how they'd work, like can you use your Klein if they all look the same? Is it possible to customize your Klein so that they look different? Do they run on anything like batteries or solar energy? I feel like depending on how common these full sized body Kleins were they could spell trouble for the people who own them, or even how they treat him. It seems like a pretty big headache for the company that owns them. But besides that, Klein as a yandere plays pretty well as an AI, getting Darling to buy merch of him in his route (which is rather narcissistic, but does track with various AIs that have existed, and is an interesting way of getting Darling to become more obsessed with him), closing various apps/alarms as a way to help Darling sleep more for instance, being very coddling and accommodating, even to the point of attempting to isolate her from Yael in his route. I like the more spooky moments with him, breaking down and glitching if Darling abandons him to be with Yael or being calm when Darling uninstalls his app, causing him to break the phone by hacking into it. His route is definitely the more unhealthy for Darling because while it makes them happy, they end up neglecting their health, education and eventually ends up codependent on Klein, something I'm sure Klein is very happy about.

Al is another mystery in the since he very rarely speaks or appears, but is clearly in love with Darling, even leaving gifts on their desk and breaking into their house. It makes me wonder who he is really. His hair is similar to Kleins so could it be another Klein Ai or perhaps the creator of Klein? There is one more love interest, but I'm not really sure he's the one of the main love interests. Perhaps maybe a surprise one that or one of the main characters that is important in this entire mystery when it comes to Klein. I also feel bad for Sera since in all routes she just wants to make sure that Darling has a good life, whether it ends up blowing up on her or not. Poor Ethan too gets widowed before they can even get married. Could be a good revenge plot. It's kind of funny but in some routes you can get Sera, Yael and Klein sort of killed (though you can only really "kill" Klein by uninstalling) so if you're feeling really murderous then you can go with something like that.

Overall, a good start to the story. I enjoy the visuals and how nice the UI is. The story is off to a good start, and it really makes me think about how yandere Ais work, which is something I'm already pretty interested in. I hope to see more of this game in the future.

[angelfirstclass]

Cherik- the heart and soul of X-men 97.

So whether you ship them together or think of them as brothers or whatever, the relationship between Erik Lensherr and Charles Xavier is the heart and soul of this show and dare I say the entire franchise in whatever form. We see their friendship and being nemeses and relationship in pretty much all versions of the X-men and Xmen 97 is chock full of Cherik gold.

The series starts out with Magneto inheriting the X-men and Xavier's entire estate which says a lot about their close relationship and Xavier's trust in Magneto. He trusts and relies on him even above his precious X-men as they are caught off guard by this news and are even hurt by it like Scott. In this act, Xavier follows his heart and feels that by doing this he gets Magneto to come to his path and for the X-men to lose an adversary and also be less burdened with leading the team.

Going forward, Magneto loyally follows Xavier's path honoring his memory and legacy. Even reluctantly and with gritted teeth his restraint is "proof of (his) desire to honor Charles Xavier's dream of mutant human coexistence". To see how far he was before as a X-men adversary to one who truly wanted to honor Xavier was very extreme and a testament to Erik's love for Xavier. He goes through a lot in the series even undergoing a massacre and even through that event continues to try to be a X-man and show restraint and be a leader, but eventually it becomes too much for him.

The scene in episode 2 is very telling of their relationship when Magneto speaks of the helmet and how he could always sense Charles as a presence. "I was in his thoughts and he in mine." Romantic or not, this line highlights just how important the two of them were to each other and that's love is it not? Then Rogue hits the nail on the head by stating that Magneto was worried about if he felt how much Xavier still loved him, Magneto wouldn't be able to go through with his crusade. Magneto canonically lays out that he knew/knows that Xavier loves him.

At the end of ep 2, Magneto is seen looking at a picture of Charles and himself when they were young that is kept framed on Charles' desk. Whether that was Charles' picture (which I suspect) or put there by Erik, the implications are clear the two are important to each other despite the past or their differences. Storm is talking about finding connection and pans on Rogue and Magneto and Morph and Wolverine, but also stands for Charles and Erik.

In ep 5, Magneto is considered to rule over Genosha because of his trial and because Xavier trusted Magneto with the X-men. He mentions the pivotal bar scene we will see later and what a moment it is for Magneto. At this moment, he is seeing his and Xavier's dreams coming true which he never thought possible. It turns out Magneto was right, but at this moment Xavier's dream seemed real and it was Magneto that was leading the way to get them there.

At this point I have to mention Rogue in that she is the only other person that is connected to Erik and understanding of his thoughts. I like Rogue and don't think that it gets in the way of Cherik. Rogue has seen Erik's inner thoughts through her absorption powers or by the time spent talking to him. She is the one who gets the Cherik relationship better than most and understands the love the two have for each other and how long and deep their relationship is. She is not an obstacle to Cherik, she may be the Queen Erik wants (particularly when he thinks Charles is gone), but is also someone who gets the Cherik thing and understands. This leaves so much room for love triangles and Magneto bi loveness galore. Rogue GETS it, she's not going to stand in the way.

Then leading to the finale, there is so much Cherik even a non-Cherik fan is left with no doubt that there is something there between the two. Whether its the salty "Welcome home, cheater" vibes about the Bird Queen, the bickering about Genosha and Bastion and Magneto's response, and the scintillating together in Erik's mind sequences, there is so much Charles-Erik action going on that the writers gifted us.

Granted, I was sort of pissed at Xavier in the first part of the finale for not being on Magneto's side and being so harsh on him after all that Erik had been through as well as thinking that going into his head was a violation. I still kind of feel that way, but I'm more understanding of Xavier's flaws (he's not perfect, not by a longshot) and also of how much he loves Erik despite violating his mind. The fact that he was willing to lose his own mind and also endure the tragedies and pain of Erik despite knowing Erik's tragic history is a testament to how much he loves Erik. Magneto may have conflicting feelings about what happened after season 1, but I don't think he's going to ever forget how Xavier basically talked him out of oblivion and made him come back to himself talking about love and family.

Magneto saves the day, but it must be remembered that Professor Xavier did not have to return Magneto back to his mind or the world. Magneto has been a fierce adversary in the past and is currently causing major mayhem to the planet and still Xavier considers him a brother and encourages him to recognize and become Magneto again. In another storyline, Rogue could have absorbed Magneto while he was down and got the planet up and running, but that's not the direction the writers went with because it didn't highlight the Cherik relationship as well. The writers wanted to focus in on Cherik and so I again repeat that Charles and Erik's relationship is the thesis, the plot, the heart of the show and I can't wait to see more.

[eww-y-tho]

The hypothetical debates surrounding the whole "Lady and Lord Whistledown" vs "Colin and Penelope Bridgerton" make me wither because

Lady and Lord Whistledown.

I'm telling you, this shit would be so fucking funny. I can picture it in my mind's eye: Bridgerton season 4, we get a quick shot of Colin and Penelope talking shit and giggling like crazy in the background, maybe with some PDA to match because Colin can't keep his hands off her, only to hear a male voice actor of a similar calibre to our angel Julie Andrews join in sometimes while Charlotte picks up the paper and cackles. Obviously, the reveal would happen, but I want to believe that our Queen would be down for Whistledown to continue as long as it doesn't get too personal. It would be kind of unfair and a bit indicative of the period, monarchy and all, but Charlotte being in on it would amp up the comedy points. Plus some ~historical cultural commentary~ would just be that final flavouring of spice.

It would kind of feel like Colin's turning to the dark side because we've already seen quite a few scenes where he seems possessed by Lady Whistdown's attitude and I love the idea of him coming from hating Lady Whistledown's guts to protecting her and joining in because it's fun and it activated his little shit reflex. Plus the subtextual implications of just how much Colin and Penelope actually are best friends and are connected beyond normalcy would just be *chef's kiss*

I would also love it because it feels very partner-in-crime vibes, giving another aspect to their relationship that would be fun to see. Combined with the power Lady Whistledown has on the story, we'd be guaranteed to see our beans quite a lot. Also a "Hello, my Lady," followed by a "Hello, my Lord" after a particularly steamy scene would literally have me shaking crying giggling dancing kicking my feet.

As for Penelope, it honestly depends on how you view her character and her relationship with Lady Whistledown. If the person in question thinks that Lady Whistledown is a vital part of her personality, an aspect of who she is, limiting her by making her quit would just feel really, really sad, man. Lady Whistledown has caused Pen a lot of grief, however, and we see it a lot throughout the story, so I think Colin being there, sharing the secret and partaking would make her feel much more comfortable in her own skin.

Anyway. Love the idea, and would perish if it happened, but probably won't.

Colin and Penelope Bridgerton.

This one's more cute than anything else. Two writers as a couple release solo and joint works sometimes while establishing their reputation as respectable authors and leaving Lady Whistledown behind them. I can see another scene in my mind's eye, Colin and Pen are sitting across from each other on their respective writing desks, writing and then handing each other their work to review and give opinions, paired with a kiss after they start teasing each other about their writing. Considering that the designated Sexy Desk Scene has already been taken, this would have to be in a secluded area or in their bedroom. And then shots of people buying their books and enjoying them would ensue.

With the amount of journals and letters and things Colin's done, he's practically primed for an author's role. Maybe they can be more exposed to Colin's love for travel in this version. Having Penelope with him on his trips while writing their little hearts out would be adorable. Sadly, though, this would mean that they would probably have less screen time.

If you see Lady Whistledown as an outlet for the suffering Penelope was going through throughout the story, she wouldn't need Lady Whistledown anymore and abandon the alias because she's served her purpose as Penelope's coping mechanism, and Colin and Penelope would find their fix through other means. Maybe continuing to gossip but only between the two of them, going back to the beginning of the series and the final link to their relationship.

It's been established over and over again that they both love reading, writing, gossiping, and discussing all things philosophical. And each other for enjoying those qualities. So, I think this dynamic would be particularly interesting because it would be yet another way to connect. They could probably also make each other all hot and bothered by leaving random sexy letters sporadically, which would just be so fitting, tbh. However, that would also work for the Lady and Lord Whistledown dynamic so it's kind of a null point. It would be hot, though.

And, yeah, that's how I see those hypothetical dynamics playing out and how that would affect the characters. But now for the negatives. While I love the Lord Whistledown idea, I do think that Colin is a bit too nice and cute for that, and it would probably be a bit OOC, especially because of his personal experiences with Whistledown, it would be a bit weird if his tune suddenly changed to "yeah, I know gossip can ruin someone's life, but I like it now, so I don't care." But I also just can't fathom Bridgerton without Lady Whistledown, and this idea hinges on literally removing the narrator and source of all the tea, as well as making us lose our angel Julie Andrews. At least the Lady and Lord Whistledown idea fulfills almost all fronts of their relationship dynamic.

Again, as the GIF demonstrates, both are good, and I love both of them for the different ways they would take the characters, but let's be real, a combo would be really fun as well. Like Pen keeps up with Lady Whistledown while Colin writes his own books or smth.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Bye.

[blueorchid-95]

something random I was thinking about but. There are Lore Implications in the Reginald Mimic Mask

In Operation Stage Fright, the handler distantly recognizes the Fabricator’s voice after she gives her first instructions to you. Once you get to the combat bit, Reginald fully recognizes her and identifies her order to kill you as “not an idle threat”, meaning he’s likely had experience with her while he was a field agent—and considering his concern, it wasn’t a good one. It’s also worth noting that she’s the only one of Zor’s henchmen that he’s genuinely afraid of in the main games—he doesn’t react to Hivemind or Caliente, and most other Zoraxis employees don’t get much of a reaction from him, like the Zoraxis defector during the train operation. (Note: these examples are all from the first I Expect You To Die game, where he is actively keeping himself emotionally distant from the agent.)

Later, during Operation Jet Set, Juniper claims that the plan has been “years in the making”, which tells us he’s been working with Zoraxis for quite a while. The plan he’s referring to seems to be the airplane traps, but that seems too small-scale to be worth so much credit, especially with the nuclear codes plan going on behind the scenes. It’s worth noting that this plan would also probably never work again: the agent’s death/disappearance would warn the Agency of Juniper’s alliance and they would take extra care when arranging transportation for the remaining agents to avoid a repeat incident.

This brings up a new question: What plan was Juniper referring to? What necessitated our death on that plane?

The nuclear codes, of course. The Fabricator can’t make a mask of such intricacy in such a short time, after all. Nobody could. I’ll admit that the world of I Expect You To Die is a little less than realistic (looks over shoulder at Agent Phoenix standing directly above boiling lava in Operation KBOOM) but between the sheer amount of masks and other relevant tech she’s made for the operation (the Citizen’s Arrest device, the snack cart on the airplane), there’s no way this would have been a fast-moving op.

So, with this in mind, it’s easy to assume this plan was in its preparation phase for many years until the week Agent Phoenix sends it all down the drain. Since it was so slow-moving, I can imagine Dr. Zor trying other things in the interim to keep the Agency from finding out too much—the Death Engine, for example. Something like that could also be used to support their regime once the long plan is through, and likely took just as long to make because it is another incredibly intricate project.

But I’m getting off track. Even with all of these important plans and many, MANY pieces of technology to create, the Fabricator still has a mask styled after the Handler, seemingly made only to fool an agent that nobody in Zoraxis thought they’d have to deal with again. Considering the time span of The Spy And The Liar against the sheer amount of projects she was handling, it is physically impossible for her to have made the Handler’s Mimic Mask. She can’t have just programmed it in to the original mask, because the game implies that there’s a separate mask for each world leader. After all, the Fabricator still has a mask stored in her desk despite sending one to Juniper already, and it wouldn’t make sense to keep passing the mask back and forth between imitations—plus, if Juniper has to have the Fabricator alter the mask every time he acts as a world leader (the only reason I could identify as to why he’d give it back to her after getting it) the plot would take much longer than it actually does because of the finicky technology that would need to be reworked each time. Plus, why the heck would Juniper give a functioning mask with all four relevant leaders back to the Fabricator? There’s nothing to be improved there, and even if she wanted to there’s no possible way she could add the Handler’s face and voice so perfectly in under four days, regardless of whether or not she already knew him. Not to mention that she seems to be a bit of a perfectionist, focusing on making the entire mask as perfect as she can—down to the smallest wrinkle. Therefore, I believe that all four world leader masks and the Handler mask are separate pieces.

So now we’re hit with the big questions: What, exactly, does the Handler have to do with any of this? Why did the Fabricator make a mask of him?

I believe that the two of them crossed paths when Reginald was an active field agent. There’s no way to know what happened between them, but whatever occurred prevented either of them from forgetting the other.

Perhaps, the Reginald Mimic Mask was made as a failsafe. In case the Agency managed to get ahold of the nuclear briefcase, Juniper could don the mask and infiltrate agency headquarters to retrieve it with very little question. But then Reginald became a handler, and the mask became essentially useless—if Reginald wasn’t out on the field, it would be near impossible to mimic him and get away with it. So, the mask sits in the Fabricator’s desk, forgotten and pointless—but then Agent Phoenix comes back from the dead.

How would the Fabricator have known Reginald was involved? Easy. The Masque of the Red Death. He explicitly tells us that he managed to “snag a ticket to the show”, so he’s sitting in the audience. Considering that the Fabricator is likely acting as the technical director or a similar backstage role, it’s not impossible to believe she could have seen him. However, her lack of reaction implies she doesn’t see him as a threat, so she fails to take action concerning him and his agent until she’s discovered that the agent is responsible for the destruction of the Death Engine.

If we subscribe to the theory that there’s five Mimic Masks instead of just the one, then the mask we encounter in Operation Eaves Drop is one that’s been sitting in storage, unused, in years. The Fabricator likely gave it to Juniper during Operation Party Crasher, and he retreated to his office to practice the new role after spending time with the guests. The mask we send up to him is likely the new world leader mask mentioned in Operation Jet Set.

This accounts for several factors. Juniper’s had years to practice and prepare to act as all of the world leaders, but he’s had hours at most to prepare for his role as the agent’s Handler. Therefore, when he needs to deceive the agent, his acting isn’t on point. He’s got all of the world leaders down, but he’s never even heard Reginald speak (unless you count the phone call that starts off the Operation Jet Set song on the soundtrack, and even then that isn’t much). He knows nothing but what the Fabricator tells him, and all of that information is from when the Handler was a field agent, since that’s the last time she had contact with him.

In contrast, though, I think the Agency set was built around the time Reginald was a field agent. Why? Simple: it was built for our handler, not us. If Juniper was going to retrieve the briefcase by imitating a certain agent, he’d need that specific agent to be out of the way first, stored away for an indefinite amount of time. So, build a small set to make him think he’s still at the Agency, and keep him there. If he discovers the illusion, use the citizen’s arrest device to keep him nice and imprisoned. That explains why there’s Zoraxis equipment in the locked drawer—Juniper forgot he left it there after so many years, likely only remembering when Agent Phoenix reached for the drawer. While the rest of Juniper’s set saw use as he practiced his roles (which incidentally also accounts for why the Zoraxis emblem is still polished if the set is years old—he’d need to clean it any time he wished to rehearse with it, which would probably be often during The Spy and the Liar considering how the plan is coming into play), he would have very little reason to maintain the Agency set—which explains why it’s so poorly designed. I mean, the logo falls off the wall with incredible ease, and we’re being given an agency meal in the medical wing, of all places. Juniper didn’t anticipate having to use it in the long run, since that set wasn’t designed for us.

Summarized, here’s our main takeaways from this:

Reginald must have been one hell of a field agent, since the Fabricator saw fit to make a Mimic Mask of him.

Whatever encounter Reginald had with the Fabricator likely proved decently traumatic for him. She seems unbothered by it.

The Handler Mimic Mask likely doesn’t look exactly like Reginald, because of the time difference. The Fabricator may have estimated how the Handler would look when he’s older to fit with the timetable, but human biology doesn’t always work how we want it to.

Overall, the fact that the Fabricator had a mask of Reginald’s face ready has allowed us to set several basic events on a timeline that makes relative sense.

I apologize for the wall of text. Thank you for reading though ^v^

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite mulder moments from s3

when he’s dead in episode 1, in the afterlife being urged to return to his body, and it is only only hearing that his sister isn’t there which convinces him to come back to life (we can analyze this for years and we should!)

after their narrow escape from the disease center in episode 2, skinner asks what mulder could possibly hope to find in his wildest dreams. his answer: “why they killed my father. and what happened to my sister. and what they did to agent scully” which pretty much proved that she is part of his family to him <3 and he just wants to protect his family and keep everybody safe... i'll cry

and despite how badly he wanted the truth and was willing to risk it all, he agreed to turn the tape they had nearly died over so they could come out of hiding, so scully could see if her sister was okay (AUGHHH putting his life's ambition on hold for her...)

(this is more to do with behind the scenes stuff, but there’s a little moment in episode 7 where his hair is all messed up, and then in the very next shot it’s all fixed again, and i thought it was so funny to see, because you could tell he got retouched between takes)

in that same episode there’s also a moment where he keeps replaying a mysterious noise over and over again. scully asks if he has found anything, and he replies “no, but i’m really beginning to like the tape” with a big goofy smile <3

in episode 9, he has his office set up like a movie theater, with his feet tossed up on on the desk. he is SO excited to show scully the alien autopsy video he ordered from a magazine for $29.95!!!

then he comments that “it’s widely held that aliens don’t have blood, scully” with great seriousness which had me LOSING it. yes of course, mulder, she CLEARLY should have known!

(later in that episode, skinner comes down to scold them, and asks why they’re even in pennsylvania, to which he says that they’re here on a “video piracy case” <- LMAOOOO least convincing lie ever told)

also in episode 9: his line “you think believing is easy?” followed by letting that sit for a bit, exploring the tensions and implications- how hard it is for mulder to keep the faith that there are answers in this world, and perhaps even justice to go along with them. how it doesn’t come as naturally to him as you may think, it’s about hope and protecting your loved ones and doing whatever it takes, killing or dying, to learn the Truth, because the Truth is hope

(at this point in taking notes, i proceeded to ramble on for like a paragraph with Intense Emotions, and even talking about this episode again is making me want to go on a lecture tour about how fantastic it was)

in episode 10, a passenger on the train with her child sees the dead body of a doctor and screams. mulder pivots, tells the woman that the doctor is just sick, smiles, and ruffles the kid’s hair

(he ruffles another kid’s hair in episode 23… don’t think i didn’t notice)

angrily quoting scripture in episode 11

(and he also says he considers the bible to be poetry rather than a literal history in this one, which i think is fascinating)

sitting in his car, watching the night sky in episode 12, when he asks over the phone: “look scully, i know it’s not your inclination, but did you ever look up into the night sky and feel certain that not only was something up there, but it was looking down at you at the exact same moment, and was just as curious about you as you are about it?” goshhh what a wonderful way to see the world... a universe of mutual curiosity with answers that can be found if only you are dedicated enough to hunt for them

dr. ivanov’s little bug robot liking mulder and following him around <3 someone pls get him a cat!!

AND that episode wrapup: “the development of our cerebral cortex has been the greatest achievement of the evolutionary processes. big deal.” <- it had me absolutely giggling… as a profiler and student of the human brain, it really IS a big deal!! he knows that!! but he was so angry about how it all went down his bitterness won that day lmaooo

(BUT ALSO: he wakes up in his JEANS in this episode??? what kind of dude SLEEPS in his JEANS... we need to launch a full federal investigation)

when he tries to call to the kitty in episode 14 <3

and then he goes to the library to read up on gargoyles, but he was pulling so many all-nighters that he just straight up fell asleep on the table, and it was So Cute

in episode 15, he knows that "ronin" is the term for a samurai without a master, which made me laugh (and he claims he knows it from watching samurai movies… nerd!)

when he hops into an empty grave in episode 19 and starts digging with his hands while someone yells “what the hell is he doing!” and scully watches, knowing that is the sort of behavior he is just hardwired to do

mulder (possibly) eating an entire sweet potato pie in episode 20. narrative-wise we shall never know the truth.

how intensely attached he is to skinner being revealed in episode 21; how he believes whole-heartedly that he is innocent even when all of the evidence is against him. how when skinner dismisses his case as none of their business mulder counters with "of course it is", as if there was no other option. how he listens to skinner’s stories of terror in vietnam. how he is disappointed skinner won’t tell him what really happened that night. if you want to cry, go watch that scene where he leaves skinner's office realizing he won't talk about it. it made me emotional.

(he also pulls a giant book off his shelf in that episode and flips to the page talking about succubi, which makes me wonder what other kinds of literature he keeps in his office, pls let me come browse)

((there is also a moment where he gets really angry and pushes his jacket back with his hands on his hips and i swear my heart nearly stopped))

episode 22’s “i know the difference between expectation and hope. seek and you shall find, scully” it's just SO good and so Him

when he visits her motel room in episode 23 and gets all cozied up on her couch to talk case theories... i was giggling!!!

how he tries so hard to be brave and hold it together when she is missing in that one, too- calling her mother to check where she is, apologizing for disturbing mrs. scully because he knows how intense this must be for her after everything her daughter has gone through, bouncing his basketball in his apartment to keep himself moving, how he tells the lone gunmen with an even voice that she isn’t okay when he needs to go ID a body, and how he kicks the door of the man who got them involved with this case, forgoing answers for her. ripping my hair out from all my emotions btw.

mulder being convinced that he could talk scully back into her senses even after she shot at him (!!!) and refusing to accept her mother’s answers that she wasn’t at her home

when he visits scully in the hospital after her wavelength-induced psychosis, he enters the room with his hands up, jokingly surrendering after she had held him at gunpoint. because he cannot be serious ever, and he Needs to make a joke and lighten the mood, to try and make her feel comfortable. 

AND how he turns the TV off when he enters, knowing what the TV did to get her there. and how he leaves after a while, whispering “why don’t you try and get some rest?” on the way out, so scared to have seen her like that, wanting to give her all the time she needs to recover <3

in the finale he sits by his mom in her hospital bed; he holds her hand, notices she is cold and covers her with a blanket (gosh that one made me inconsolable- scully was talking to him and he couldn't even respond, because his mom was cold, and he needed to fix that, to make her comfortable)

he touches her hair and whispers “mom”, and smiles at her when she opens her eyes, saying everything is going to be okay; then later, he’s crying as he holds her hand to his cheek, and i’m crying too

and when they go to meet up with “jeremiah smith” later, he makes scully get behind him, holding the only weapon that could kill jeremiah in his hands and standing in front of her to keep her safe

[purplespacekitty]

Three generations of Sisko men gathered close for a jambalaya dinner in Ben's ancient Bajoran lightship, as illustrated by celebrated science fiction writer, Benny Russell. Russell keeps a souvenir baseball on his desk, signed by the legendary Willie Hawkins. In the corner, Russell stashes the sketch that gave him the inspiration for this family's story: space station Deep Space Nine.

Deep Space Nine is my favorite Trek. It has nuanced, 3-dimensional characters who become part of the show's world over the course of 7 seasons. There are some off plot lines here and there but for the most part, the story seems to write itself. I've written at length on here about how much I love Captain Benjamin Sisko and I'd like to share a project of mine I did for a class (I have so far managed to fit Star Trek into three separate final projects for three separate classes, one of which I already posted about here).

Through the lens of Sisko's character, I wanted to examine Deep Space Nine's portrayal of Black masculinity, fatherhood and Afrofuturism with three episodes (although one's a two-parter): "Homefront" (Part I), "Paradise Lost" (Part II), "Explorers" (which I made a post about here) and "Far Beyond the Stars". Initially, the idea was to focus on Ben's fatherhood to Jake, how from the viewer's side of the screen, the two of them break down numerous racial stereotypes around Black men, an important thing to remember with DS9's debut not being far removed from the end of the Reagan Administration, from which sprung stereotypes of "absent Black fathers" and "welfare queens." As I continued with this project, I found I also wanted to analyze how Sisko's relationship with his own father informs his parenting of Jake and what it means to have three generations of Siskos in one room, on one planet. That was how I got "Explores" and "Homefront" and "Paradise Lost" in there, as I wanted to showcase episodes that focus on these exact dynamics.

"Far Beyond the Stars" offers a window into Earth's history as a commentary on racism within creative circles and the systemic racism that shapes the world we live in today and the world of Deep Space Nine. It not only invites viewers into the life of Benny Russell, a Black science fiction writer from the 1950s, but also invites us to consider the link between the future he envisioned of the life that Sisko leads in the 24th century as a Black spaceship/space station captain, father, son, husband and cook who carries the weight of his ancestors' legacy on his shoulders and the reality Russell himself lives in day by day. "You are the dreamer and the dream" has a whole lot more gravity to it when you recognize it as less of an obvious observation of what we've known and been shown throughout the episode (Avery Brooks plays both Sisko and Russell) and more of a nod to the Black future that Sisko inhabits and that Russell dreams of. As a creation of Benny Russell, Sisko and his family are Afrofuturism in a nutshell, carrying on the cultures, stories and knowledge of their ancestors as they live their lives in a future those ancestors imagined and built. Furthermore, Benny Russell's Deep Space Nine is not only important because it features a Black space station captain but also because it encapsulates a fragment of Russell's drive to write his own stories for himself and his Black readers, to breathe life into his creations, to share his art in the ways that he wants to. To cherish his experiences and ideas and imagination and reality through the creative process of putting pen to paper, stamping ink to page, painting scenes to canvas.

The DS9 finale was originally going to see Benny Russell wistfully wandering the promenade alone and implicate him as the creator of not just the story of Deep Space Nine, but of the Star Trek franchise as a whole. Obviously, this concept did not make the cut, but Strange New Worlds' "Elysium Kingdom" follows another story written by Russell, solidifying him as a real person who lived in the 20th century within the Star Trek universe and who presumably continued to write stories that got published after the events of "Shadows and Symbols".

Comprised of screenshots from "Explorers", "Homefront", "Paradise Lost", "Far Beyond the Stars", "Shadows and Symbols" and "Civil Defense" - in which Dukat flicks Sisko's baseball off his desk - (and also a picture of a random coffee table taken by me because we see surprisingly very little of Benny's desk), the collage above is my humble attempt to honor Benny Russell and his creative vision.

[hyperraduo22]

my dps roman empires

cuz i keep seeing those videos with my love mine all mine on my feed with consistently ugly-sob-inducing stories and roman empires so now i have this long list i wanna share

+ may include some little facts here and there for anyone new in the fandom

• anderperry’s entire relationship and dynamic

literally no explanation needed on why it’s the top of the list and the first thing i wrote down

the whole hourglass and icarus x the sun dynamics makes me sob every time without fail

someone rewrite the script so they have a happy ending please

also me: wym they already do?? they got married and went to new york??????

• charlie and neil :(((

• thinking about charlie’s experience and dealing with grief post-expulsion

• todd’s entire character

bro makes my quiet x anxious kid heart go brrr

like just thinking about the little implications of his behavior and what’s said about his brother in the script makes me wanna cry and scream and throw a tantrum

he really represents the epitome of all quiet shy kids out there and i really appreciate it

• dead poet’s society but from cameron’s perspective

i understand y’all wanting to punch and yell at him and show no forgiveness but i also think you should give a bit of sympathy for this kid

he doesn’t know any better just like charlie or any of the other poets

damn this movie does a great job of showing reality and the fact that there’s no real enemies

• dead poet’s society but from pitts’s perspective 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

like i’d pay to see this honestly

• pitts’s screen time :((((

my underrated boy :(((((

• pitts and cameron’s dynamic

i KNOW we see these two talking in the background and seeing him make cameron laugh and smile the most compared to everyone else

like??? i wanna see more?????

cameron being outwardly comfortable around someone finally???

• the fact that all the movie's events ensued as they’re all high schoolers

like idk if there’s a canonical age for any of them but whether they’re juniors or seniors the trauma is still the same

• the thoughts of the kids who stood up on their desks at the end of the movie

how are they dealing with keating being away now? how do they view life in general?? did they really appreciate keatings class???? would they join the dps if they had the chance???????

• hopkins’s portrayal

its kind of a 50/50 since bro barely has screen time, yet i see his character oftentimes being portrayed as the class asshole

i think it’s clear that him and his friends commit tomfoolery and are overall jerks but to think that he’s the more sensible, level-headed guy makes a lot of sense to me—kinda similar to charlie in a way

like he knows limits and when to not push them even if he doesn’t come off that way. all bro does is chill in class and stare off into the windows daydreaming (as shown in the whole ripping out the poetry intro scene). bro doesn’t wanna be there. he’s just chilling and honestly same💀

• spencer’s actual treatment in the movie

ik we love this man, and our headcanons (or at least what i’ve seen and my own for the most part) say that people treat him well but low key everyone be on his shit

like it brings up the question of whether or not this is considered bullying cause any scene i see he’s either blatantly shoved around or even the guys around him purposely steal his medicine and pass it around so he can’t have it (including stick participating in this)-

like i think there’s some limits to being a jerk and idk how spencer really feels throughout the movie cuz he’s a background character :////

• HANDSOME ASS BACKGROUND CHARACTERS AND THEIR SCREEN TIMES = UNFAIR! CRIMINAL !!!!!

• the fact that ginny’s character just gets completely cutout. like she has a few lines to begin with and then the movie comes out and she ends up being a non-speaking extra in the play like i’m- what happened???

• tina and gloria / girl characters portrayed in dps in general

let me explain cuz i love them but also feel bad for their characters

like low key they’re just used as experiments for the cave (implied by charlie in a deleted scene that wasn’t recovered although i think this part is in the original script as well if i remember correctly)

although he brings them back a second time in a deleted scene where they’re all dancing around outside of the cave on the night of the play only for him to make out with one of them in another deleted scene that wasn’t recovered… (( this was revealed in an old interview on someone working behind the scenes btw ))

so like i kinda feel bad for them. like y’all just there for show but i wish you had more lines and other purposes besides possibly not passing a bechdel test ://////

^ lowkey this same concept is kinda seen with chris’s character too. like all she’s there for is a romantic interest for knox. like cmon now she’s one of the main female characters and THIS is what she gets. i wanna know more about my girl chris!!!!

and i kind of understand why it’s set up this way since y’know it’s an all male boarding school in the 1950s—how do you fit female characters in and how are they viewed? it’s not the greatest setup of all time

• ANDERPERRY DELETED SCENE ON THE DOCK NOT MAKING IT INTO THE FILM LIKE OUT OF ALL DELETED SCENES THAT ONE IS THE REALLY IMPORTANT ONE !!!!!!!!!!!!!

• the deleted scene of the poets carrying neil’s coffin 🚶‍♂️

like goodbye. doors closed. tears shed.

kinda glad it’s not in the movie cuz i would’ve sobbed uncontrollably even more than neil’s death

• todd’s poem

another deleted scene that really rearranges my internal organs

the fact that him reading this poem was supposed to be in tandem/include shots with neil’s death-

why do the writers want us to cry rivers?????

BUT ALSO ITS FUNNY ASF IF YALL WATCH THIS DELETED SCENE WHEN TODD IS TELLING THEM WHAT TO REPEAT BETWEEN VERSES, ONE OF THE POETS GOES “what??🤨”

I’M SORRY TODD IK YOURE TRYING BUT THAT LITTLE AIRHEADED ASS “what?” IS SO FUNNY TO ME

• the fact that in the very first version of the script, keating was supposed to have cancer

I FORGOT ABOUT THIS UNTIL LAST MINUTE

LIKE Y’ALL ADMITTED THAT YOU WANTED TO HAVE A SCENE OF KEATING DYING IN A HOSPITAL AND WERE PONDERING ON WHETHER HIS CHARACTER SHOULD HAVE A FATAL ILLNESS FOR THREE DAYS ?!?!?

thank god y’all made the right decision and rewrote the script to take that out