#but it does explain why it is the most difficult to change
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Regarding this post
https://www.tumblr.com/discourse-by-candlelight/723340363792891904/regardless-of-your-stance-on-recent-discourse
I think people might do this because
1) they may still be pro tulpa while being anti tulpa terminology
2) the people who need to seriously consider their language the most and how it harms racial and religious minorities are the ones who frequent those tags
1. We promise you, regardless of their intent, it still hurts, just as the appropriation that happened seems to hurt Tibetan Buddhists unintentionally. That's the way of things, especially since tulpamancy isn't just another endo group, it's a unique and massive subculture with a history of it's own regardless of whether said history is good or not. In many ways it's impossible to be completely pro tulpa and anti tulpa terminology, because tulpamancy does not equal created system. Tulpas and tulpamancy are unique and shaped by a subculture, history, and practice seperate from the wider endogenic community's views, and being against the terminology is inherently taking from that experience for better or worse. This is also why none of the current proposed alternatives to tulpa will ever stick, they were made by the plural community and not with the subculture of the tulpamancy community in mind.
2. This could be argued for so many anti endo or endo critical posts aswell but those tags are still treated as places for them to be safe. If you can't be consistent in your choices don't try at all is what we were taught growing up. The endo community has plenty of things to syscourse and criticize over but people still don't like that happening, the same should apply here. We didn't ask that all the tulpa tags be clean, we asked specifically the pro tulpa tag, and other like it.
I'm not asking that you necessarily agree with these reasons, but I do hope you can understand them
#syscourse#tulpamancy#tulpa discourse#tulpacourse#there's nuance here#this is why cultural appropriation claims are always extremely messy#both sides have a history now with the word they want respected even though one side took it and changed it first#this doesn't excuse appropriation#but it does explain why it is the most difficult to change#and why it certainly won't happen over night or even a year or more#candlelight answers
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hello im the same anon as before i just learned about the new attack which was indeed premeditated. i thought the post was talking about what happened with the soccer fans. im very sorry!
tbh i considered ignoring this and obviously do not know who you are anon + i am leaving out the first message i got, because i do not want to drag any other blogs into this:
do not come into my ask box and tell me that i shouldn't reblog xyz's posts because they are a zionist
if the current posting trend on tumblr wasn't so particularly dire i'd use the "woman putting box on shelf meme" with the word zionist on it, but as it stands
i obviously do not vet all blogs in a reblog chain when i agree with the content of a post; i do not mind people coming to my dms/ask box to tell me that someone i reblogged from has posted heinous shit and that i should check whether i want to reblog them
however, that means pointing out that they actually said something specific (e.g. having no compassion for the people in gaza) and not just sending a dm with "btw blog xyz is zionist"
10 times out of 10, the people who contact me like that have first heard of zionism a year ago and have never done any reading beyond the english wiki since then +
any time i have seen posts like that on my dash they weren't even directed at zionists but jewish bloggers talking about the antisemetic bs going down on this website and in general
as for amsterdam:
it boggles my mind (not really) that people cannot comprehend that making fun of dead children in gaza is vile stuff but also doesn't justify people going on a 'jew hunt' in the streets.
i am beyond making presumptions, but i cannot help but feel that the activism in support of palestine by people who message me like this extends to just that - messaging me or others - and then never engaging in actual activism.
it is calling out racism and antisemitism when you encounter it, especially among your peers, giving money to organisations that actually try and provide help to people in gaza, it means calling and writing to politicians to make your voice heard (i've decided to mainly post on tumblr about the antisemitic attacks going on in europe etc. because i feel like some people on here do not want to accept the fact that antisemitic hate crimes are globally on the rise. as for the support for palestine: i do that offline, because i do not believe there is anything helpful i can achieve on this platform).
so, i reblogged that post not just because of the "new" attack, but also because of the attack from the day before.
#ctlyuejie writes#i/p#antisemitism#maybe deleting the additional tags but this is just bonkers#it should be easy to condemn the violence on part of the football fans without justifying ppl in amsterdam explicitely going on a “jew hunt#idk why i have to explain on this website that it is also not acceptable to collectively punish a group of people even if someone wants to#claim they weren't hunting jews but just retaliating against maccabi fans in general#how is this helpful in any way?#not the most fucked up thing but it is indeed exhausting when your own government has bs policies re: israel and palestine (hence me arguin#with politicians and ppl in my own party) but also exhausting that i was only able to join one protest for palestine because all the others#i checked out did chant blatently antisemitic slogans at one point or another#(e.g. i happened to be in the city when there was a protest in my hometown so while i considered joining spontaneously and googled the#organizers they started chants of 'burn down israel')#how is this helpful? does this help end the violence in the region? does this protect palestinians living here? does this help change#the minds of politicians who could actually pressure netanjahu? does this build a broad coalition that could sway public opinion and polici#s?#absolutely not#only made the sister chapter of my party hold a vigil explicitely for the state of israel and doing microaggressions in a groupchat#against a party member from jordan which in turn made me do angry phonecalls#like it is bonkers when it shouldn't be difficult to support palestinians without being antisemetic and support jewish people#without being racist#and i know that like clockwork i will get a message for some fundraiser in my askbox that is plain spam#this got much longer than intended
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Idk if you write about this topics since they are really sensitive, but it is something I’m currently struggling with and I would like to see how lando would react after finding out that the reader has been hiding a her struggle with mental illness and attempts of ending her life. Once again I know how sensitive this request is but I started reading your work and fell in love with it and thought that you would write this beautifully
Seasons change | LN⁴
💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── This was a pretty difficult one-shot to write, even though it's not very lengthy. I know that mental health is still a topic of actuality that we all deal with in one way or another. The only thing that I want you guys to remember after reading this, is that you are not alone. I know that it may sound like a broken record, but it's true. Each of us has a Lando in our lives who will care enough to stand by you without ulterior motives or conditions. And if you really feel like you don't, I can be him for you. My DMs and ask box are always open, so don't hesitate to reach out if you need someone. You matter in all your forms 🤍
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
☆ summary ──── He's been away for work for a while now, but when Lando comes home to find his girlfriend at her lowest, they have to learn the hard way that love is about sitting with each other in the dark, not just chasing the light.
☆ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader
☆ rating ──── mature
☆ category ──── F/M
☆ word count ──── 2.6k
☆ date ──── Jan. 11, 2025
☆ warnings ──── 16+, established relationship, soft!Lando, mental health struggles, depression, suicidal ideation, mention of alcohol consumption and pills, emotional distress, vulnerability, guilt and healing, non-sexual nudity (bathtub scene, including tenderness and intimacy).
Please, proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being. If you or someone you know is struggling, these are some of the resources I personally used for years now & I think (and hope) that it might help you at some point:
☆ MENTAL HEALTH APPS
Calm
7 cups
BetterMe
☆ INSTAGRAM ACCOUNTS
idontmind
thefabstory (also an app)
getreformative (currently inactive, but great resources posted there)
talkspace
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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
THE APARTMENT IS too quiet tonight. A space that once felt like a sanctuary, now seems to close in on her, the walls pressing closer with each passing hour.
To anyone looking in, her life might appear perfectly ordinary, even enviable. She has a stable job that she loves, a couple of friends who care in their own way, and Lando. Lando, with his boundless energy, his boyish grin, and his unwavering ability to see the good in her even when she struggles to find it in herself. But beneath that polished surface, there’s a darkness she’s been hiding for as long as she can remember.
She’s not really sure when it happened, or what caused her to lose her spark. Most of the times, she thinks that she’s always been like this, but that can’t be right. Although, at this point in time, it went on long enough that she learned to wear masks and mimic people’s gestures. It’s exhausting, but it’s easier than explaining why some days she can barely drag herself out of bed, or why her mind feels like a storm she can’t escape.
Lately, the same storm has been relentless. Lando’s been away for weeks, hopping from one race to another, his life a whirlwind of fast cars, tons of people, and flashing cameras. She’s proud of him, of course, but his absence leaves a void she can’t seem to fill on her own, no matter how many phone calls they share.
She knows it’s not his responsibility to fix her, but without even knowing it, Lando does it every time he looks at her. In those moments, pieces of her heart are welded back together, giving her hope that one day, maybe, it will be whole again.
Of course, things aren’t that easy.
She’s always been a loner, someone who enjoys her own company more than the chaos of others. This is why she doesn’t go with Lando to all of his races. Over time, they’ve developed their own rhythm, and it only works when they both put in the effort to be together. However, she knows that he often works for both of them. She also knows that it’s not right to let him do this, but she doesn’t know how to stop.
But being alone isn’t the same as being lonely, and lately, the loneliness feels like it’s swallowing her whole. She tries to keep busy, to distract herself with work or a new book, but the dark thoughts always find her; a cycle she can’t break. They usually creep in at night when she’s most vulnerable, whispering lies she can’t ignore.
You’re a burden.
He’d be better off without you.
Everyone would be better off without you.
In spite of everything, she knows she’s lucky, though. She has a roof over her head, food on the table, and someone who loves her. And, somehow, knowing that only makes her feel worse. Most of the times, the guilt is suffocating — a heavy weight that presses down on her chest until she can’t breathe. She’s tried to push the thoughts away, to drown them in work or meaningless distractions. She tried to be grateful. But tonight, like many other nights before, they’ve won.
When Lando steps into the apartment, the soft click of the door is echoing in the stillness. It’s late — later than he’d hoped — and he assumes she’s already asleep, because he texted her hours ago to let her know he was on his way, but there had been no reply.
Dropping his bag quietly by the door, he toes off his sneakers and glances toward the dimly lit living room. The faint glow of the city skyline filters through the curtains, casting muted shadows across the floor. He moves carefully, not wanting to wake her, with a simple plan in mind: slip into bed, wrap his arms around his girlfriend, and fall asleep to the steady rhythm of her breathing.
But something feels off.
On his way to the bedroom, he spots the balcony door slightly ajar. A cool breeze sneaks through the crack, carrying with it the faint scent of something acrid. He pauses, his brow furrowing as he approaches the glass door.
That’s when he sees her.
She’s out on the balcony, her back to him, legs dangling dangerously over the edge. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his mind struggling to process what he’s seeing. Then his gaze shifts, taking in the scene: some things are knocked over on the small table by the door, a small flacon of pills alongside a half-empty bottle of wine, and all the mess. The realization hits him like a physical blow, and his heart starts pounding in his chest.
But then, panic grips him as he slides the door open, stepping out onto the balcony. The sound startles her, and she turns her head slightly, her expression distant and unfocused. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and there’s an eerie calmness about her that chills him to the core.
“Hey, is everything okay?” asks Lando, his voice soft as he crouches beside her, careful not to make any sudden movements. “What… baby, what are you doing out here?”
She doesn’t answer immediately, her gaze drifting back to the city below. The silence stretches, each second feeling heavier than the previous one.
“Talk to me,” he pleads, his voice slightly cracking. His eyes dart back to the table, to the pill bottle and the wine, and he feels a surge of anger mixed with fear. “Is this—fuck. Did you take these?”
She shakes her head, a small smile curving in the corner of her mouth. “I’m so tired, love,” she whispers finally, her voice shaking over the hum of the city.
Her words hit him like a punch in the gut, and he’s suddenly aware of how fragile she looks, and how close she is to the edge. His hands shake as he reaches for her, gently gripping her arm. His heart beats so hard that he feels it throughout his body — his ribcage, in his throat, in the hand he tightens around her, to make sure he’s holding her with enough force.
“Okay. That’s okay,” he says, his tone soft but urgent. “Let’s go inside, yeah? I’m tired too, we can rest together. What do you say?”
“No… no, it’s not—” she tries to speak, but her brain is clouded by a mental fog, and everything around her moves too quickly for her to catch up.
“Come on, can you step back? Please. For me?”
His last question is what jolts her back to reality. For him? She would do anything for him. Lando knows that, and she soon realizes that he is using it to emotionally blackmail her. He always does that, and it annoys her.
She raises her head to look at him, her tired eyes meeting his, and for a moment, Lando thinks she’ll comply. But then, she pushes his hand away, a trace of betrayal crossing his face.
“No. It’s pretty out here,” she says, gazing down at the world that simply exists under her feet. The distance makes her stomach clench, knowing that all it takes it’s a small misstep for everything to end. Still, she doesn’t move an inch.
“I see that, love,” he agrees, “But I want to talk to you, and I can’t do that unless I make sure you’re safe. Did you… do this before?”
She nods slowly, refusing to look at him.
At that, Lando exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm the storm in his chest. He knows her enough to know when to push and when to give her space, only this time around, he’s met with a weird combination of both. Luckily, his body decides what to do before his mind agrees to it and, cautiously, he climbs up to join her on the edge, his hands gripping the cold railing as his pulse pounds in his ears.
Her head snaps toward him, her expression instantly shifting, panic flashing in her eyes. “No, what are you doing?” she whispers, her voice cracking.
“I’m with you,” he murmurs, his voice tender, laced with fear he’s desperately trying to hide. “If you’re staying here, then so am I.”
She blinks, her lips parting as if to protest, but no words come. Instead, her gaze softens, the wine-induced haze in her eyes clearing. Slowly, she lets out a shaky breath and sits down on the narrow ledge, her hands gripping the edge. Lando follows her lead, sitting close but careful not to crowd her, his knee brushing hers. He hesitates for a moment before gently reaching for her hand, and he exhales relieved when her fingers close around his, grounding both of them.
They sit in silence for a moment, the distant city lights flickering around them.
“I’ve missed you a lot, you know?” he finally whispers, his voice barely audible, breaking the quiet. “I never… If something happens, I don’t want to have to miss you all the time—”
“Lando, I know,” she cuts him off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she continues, staring at their joined hands. Her voice is small, guilt creeping into her tone.
He nods, looking at her, “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Lando says gently. “I know I’m away a lot, but if you need me, I’ll do anything.”
Her grip on his hand tightens slightly just as she turns to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeats, tears pooling but not yet falling. “It’s not your fault, Lan. It’s me. I… don’t even know. There’s nothing wrong, but at the same time, nothing’s quite right, either.”
He shakes his head, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Don’t apologize for feeling. It just makes me think now, because I thought you trusted me,” says Lando, his words cutting through her like a knife through butter. “I trust you,” he adds, almost like pointing it out.
She knows he does, her mind instantly replaying the moments in her mind, the times he’d come to her with his struggles. When a race didn’t go his way, and he doubted everything he’d worked so hard for. When social media was brutal, tearing him apart with words that left invisible scars. When he felt hated and couldn’t understand why. He always talked to her, shared his pain, his fears, his insecurities. He let her in, trusted her completely. And now, here she was, shutting him out when he was only trying to do the same for her.
“Don’t say that…” she starts, but her voice catches, and her breath hitches. “I’m trying.”
“I know, baby. I know,” Lando says gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Can we, please, just go inside?”
The tears she’s been holding back for too long finally slip free, carving hot, silent paths down her cheeks. She looks up at him, her lips trembling as she whispers, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
His expression softens, and without hesitation, he lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles, mostly to show her that she didn’t. The gesture is so simple yet so full of love that it sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over her.
Lando doesn’t let go of her hand as he gently helps her to her feet, guiding her back inside the apartment. The night air clings to their skin, but it’s the quiet inside that feels even heavier. He doesn’t say much, just keeps her close, his touch steady and grounding as they make their way to the bathroom.
A little uncomfortable now, she leans against the doorframe, watching as Lando moves around, carefully. He runs the water, testing the temperature with his hand, adding just the right amount of bath salts from the container on the shelf. The pale lavender-scented steam begins to fill the space, creating a safe bubble for both of them.
When Lando finally looks back at her, his expression is warm and inviting, somehow hopeful. He steps closer, reaching out to gently cup her cheek, wiping away the tear stains that remain.
“You’re everything to me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over her skin before his hands move to the hem of her hoodie.
She doesn’t protest as he carefully lifts it over her head, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving hers. For a moment, she stands there, feeling vulnerable under his gaze, but there’s nothing but love in his expression.
Her fingers tremble slightly as she reaches out to return the gesture, undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one. His eyes stay locked on hers, silently reassuring her, grounding her in the best way possible. By the time she pushes the fabric off his shoulders, the weight in her chest feels a little lighter.
They step into the bath together, the warm water enveloping them like a soothing embrace. She settles between his legs, her back against his chest, and his arms come around her instinctively. There’s no rush, no need for words. It’s just them, surrounded by the quiet hum of the water and the soft glow of the candles Lando had lit earlier.
He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment before he rests his chin on her shoulder. “Promise you’ll talk to me next time?” he asks, his voice small but steady. “I know things won’t change overnight, I don’t expect them to. But I need to know you understand that I’m here for you. That I love you enough to listen, and feel everything with you.”
The words settle in her chest, heavy but necessary, like the first raindrops of a storm. For the first time in what feels like forever, she sees beyond the swirling chaos in her mind. The weight of his love and understanding wraps around her like the warmth of the water they’re sitting in. And then it hits her.
How life itself is the changing of seasons, a constant push and pull — a constant chaos. Sometimes, the sun will break through, lighting everything in gold. Other times, it will rain so hard she won’t see the way ahead. But Lando’s right. It will get better again. Then worse. And then better again. That’s the way it is for everyone. A relentless tide of ups and downs, joy and pain, hope and disappointments.
As she leans back into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, she realizes the most important thing: it isn’t always black or white. Sometimes, it’s a hazy gray — a space where the lines blur, where the answers aren’t clear, and the path you find yourself on feels impossibly difficult to navigate. But it’s in that in-between, in the murky middle, that having the right person beside you matters the most. Not to pull you into the light or demand you leave the shadows, but to sit with you in the dark, holding your hand, letting you know you’re not alone.
She swallows hard, her throat tight, but not from sadness this time. “I promise,” she finds the strength to whisper. Her breath catches, and she turns her head slightly to meet his gaze, tears still pooling in her eyes. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I—”
“You deserve everything, my love,” Lando assures her, his lips brushing her temple, before placing a tiny kiss there. “And I’ll make sure you get it.”
His definitive tone sends shivers down her spine.
She closes her eyes, feeling the water ripple softly around them, and holds on tighter, knowing that no matter what storms may come, the most important thing is that they won’t lose each other’s touch.
And that’s everything to her.
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© trashy track tales, 2025
#lando norris x reader#lando norris angst#lando norris imagine#f1blr#x reader#f1 x reader#lando norris#ln4#f1 fic#trashy track tales#lando norris fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfiction#f1 fanfic#fan fiction#formula 1#f1#fluff#angst#requested#mental health#lando#lando x reader#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#lando norris one shot#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#mental heath awareness
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#GOD I STARTED THINKING ABOUT THEM AND HOW CRAZY THEY ARE AKDNSKDNKS#i said the whole family is difficult. without exposing mine or their lives let me give you some brief facts 😘#the father is SO SEXIST. has literally said the most cliche 'women are so emotional and thats why they're stupid and men are better'#CRAP ive ever heard. like think about the cliche sexist comments. ofc they're cliche for a reason people actually think those things#but idk??? ig i expect people to be a little more creative with their hatred??? amdnskdnmsn#the mother. is one of those 'oh dont bash gender roles! they work great for my family' but she does not mean#that her family naturally tend to fall into traditional roles and it's great for them and they have their lives figured out#she means. no dont make me uncomfortable by saying women dont have to be slaves to their husbands!!#bc that reminds her that she lives to please her husband!!#and actually. id feel bad for her if it was just that. but she also called my 13yo sister a bully to her face#with no proof. and never apologized#so i dont actually feel that bad!!#the older daughter. is very manipulative. and holier than thou. and does everything to impress other people#and you shohld know that shes better than me and everyone else everyone has to know that#and the whole secret boyfriend thing. i wont explain that whole mess. but she's only dating him bc she wants to date someone#and the younger daughter!!! shes the only one i actually feel bad for#she's got it rough being surrounded by all of them and she's always seemed to have more of a head on her shoulders than any of the others#but. she's getting older now. and starting to become like them. she attacked my sister for no reason.#it was mostly orchestrated by the mom but still. she seems to be changing and being more like them as she gets older#like?????? what is it about me and my family that we run into these kinds of people so often akdhskdnsk#WHY CANT THINGS BE A LITTLE NORMAL SOMETIMES#must i be surrounded by INSANE PEOPLE????? ALL THE TIME?????#anyway ❤
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Android Tim Drake AU:
Drake Industries announced they had successfully created realistic-looking androids that passed the Turing Test (and harder versions of it). They were planning to release commercial models to the public within twenty years.
To go a step farther, the Drakes wanted to ensure no one was skeptical of the androids' abilities to pass as human. Thus, Janet and Jack Drake had a healthy "human" baby by the name of Timothy Jackson Drake. The only individuals aware of this are Tim, Janet, Jack, and a small handful of engineers bound with a fuck ton of NDAs. They planned to tell the public when Tim was eighteen.
While Janet and Jack Drake are aware of Tim's ability to mimic emotions, they do not believe him to be capable of actually feeling them. This leads to Tim's childhood being lonely and neglectful. He is a robot.
At first, Tim is incapable of consuming human foods or using his touch sense. They fix his touch sense by the time he is four (and thus Dick is his first hug), and the food by the time he is six. He is constantly undergoing repairs to allow him to mimic the growth pattern of a child. It's when he is nine that he finally gets pain sensors to discourage and alert him to damage.
Tim is, for all intents and purposes, legally a human. When Janet dies and Jack gets into a coma, Tim stops receiving "growth spurts." He remains the same size even after Jack wakes up from his coma.
When Tim becomes Robin, he does not disclose his status with Bruce, Dick, or anyone else. Given that his parents treat him like an object, a machine, and incapable of feelings, Tim doesn't want to be subjected to that by his heroes either.
Instead, he gaslights the hell out of the Bats, villains, and other heroes whenever he gets hit.
["Tim! You got flung into a building. You are getting a medical exam."
Tim narrows his eyes as his eyebrows raise in surprise. "Bruce.... what are you talking about?"
"I saw you get thrown into a building. You're not getting out of this."
Tim glances to the side and then back to his mentor. He carefully places a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "B... Maybe we should have Alfred check you over."
Bruce blinks in shock as his brows furrow. "What?"
Tim purses his lips and shakes his head in pity. "It's okay, B. We'll figure it out. Whatever is going on, we'll fix it."
Bruce is so confused and concerned he doesn't ask Tim to get a medical check and agrees to be checked over instead.]
Tim becomes an expert at repairing himself because he can't explain to the engineers (most of who were let go after Janet died) how he got damaged. He spends a lot of nights alone in his room turning off his pain sensors (which isn't an automatic process and is difficult to reach)in order to fix the mangled hand, the gaping gash, the crooked foot, etc.
Kon, and conversely YJ, are the first to find out about his status (darn x-ray vision and super hearing). This encourages Tim to create artificial sounds within himself to fool Superman when they first meet. This also forces Tim to wear a long-sleeved uniform and a hood to hide from x-ray vision.
Tim finds comradery with Red Tornado.
When Jack wakes up from his coma, he originally treats Tim as he did before: an object. Dana, though, changes this. Jack can't explain why he treats his "son" that way and slowly morphs into becoming a good father.
It starts as only occurring when Dana is in the room and ends with a very bitter and antagonistic Jack when she leaves. He is initially disturbed by how much Tim is "faking" emotions, particularly because Tim learned to conceal his emotions from his parents as a coping mechanism (not that Jack knows this).
As they start spending more and more time together, Jack begins accepting the idea that Tim is capable of emotions. He starts caring and loving the kid as his own.
Because of this, Jack becomes fearful for Tim. When he learns that Tim is Robin, he is both jealous of Bruce's relationship with Tim and absolutely terrified for his son (what happens if people find out that Tim is an android? How would they treat him? Tim told Jack the Waynes don't know about his status. What if Tim gets injured too badly during a mission and they find out?)
This is why Jack initially forbids Tim from being Robin. There is way too much at stake for Tim if he continues (even though, theoretically, Tim can't die. Jack can keep saves of Tim and import him into a new body if necessary. They both don't want to do this, however, because Tim's body is his. It would feel weird and wrong to put him in another one).
While Tim is prohibited from being Robin, Jack bankrupts his company in the process of getting Tim rights. He bribes the hell out of judges, law makers, etc. to subtly put I'm rights for androids. He wants Tim to have full access to his inheritance, to freedom, and to everything humans can do. He doesn't want Tim to be without it.
Tim doesn't understand why Drake Industries is going under and is pissed at Jack for preventing him from being Robin. Robin is everything to Tim. It allows him to be treated as human. It connects him to so many people.
It's only afterwards, when Tim is finally allowed to be Robin again (and Jack has ensured he did everything he could for now for Tim's rights), that Tim fully understands how much Jack loves and cares for him.
Then Jack dies.
Tim is able to hide the fact that he's an android up until a Red Helmet asshole breaks into the Tower. While YJ whisk him away before the Bats can find out, Jason knows. Jason found out.
#tim drake#dc au#android au#good parent jack drake#eventually#jack drake loves tim#jack drake#i like to imagine janet learns to love her kid too but only after she dies#when jack meets her in the after life she's so proud of jack for being there for their son#i love jason todd y'all#this isn't hate on jason
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Character Sheet Template
Basic Information
Name (aliases, nicknames etc.): Explain the significance or origin of their name. Do they have a story behind a nickname?
Age: How does their age affect their worldview and behavior?
Gender: How do they identify and how does that shape their experiences?
Place of birth: How has their birthplace influenced their personality and opportunities?
Residence(s): Where have they lived, and where do they live now? What does their living space look like? Describe their present accommodations.
Ethnicity: How does their ethnic background influence their interactions and experiences?
Culture: What cultural values do they uphold? Have they faced any cultural conflicts?
Occupation(s) or specialties: What are the specific duties or skills in their job? How do they feel about their work?
Socioeconomic status: Has their economic background influenced their opportunities and personality? Has their status changed over time?
Appearance
Defining facial features: What do these features say about their character? How would a friend describe them? An enemy?
Height, build, body type: How do they feel about their physical appearance?
Mannerisms and gestures: How do they express themselves physically? Are these mannerisms a result of their background, or personal quirks?
Style: How does their style reflect their personality or status?
Dress: Do they dress differently for different occasions? How do they choose their clothes?
Accessories: Are there any accessories they never leave home without?
Other visual features: Do they have scars, tattoos, or other unique markers?
Personality
Defining traits: List of traits and attributes. What are the origins of these traits? Have they changed over time?
Personality type: MBTI, Enneagram, astrological sign, etc.
Archetype: Which common tropes do they exhibit?
Strengths and weaknesses: How do their strengths help them achieve goals? How do their weaknesses hinder them?
Flaws: How do their flaws affect their relationships and decisions?
Beliefs and spirituality: Do they believe in a higher power?
Morals and values: What events shaped their outlook on life?
Hopes and dreams: What steps are they taking towards these dreams? What obstacles stand in their way?
Skills: Which skills are they most proud of? Are there any skills they wish they had?
Interests or hobbies: How did they encounter their interests? How do others react to them?
Powers (if any): What are the limits and costs of their powers? How do they balance them with “normal” life?
Intimacy: How do they feel about physical intimacy? Emotional intimacy? Have they ever been in love?
Tastes and preferences: How do their preferences shape their daily choices?
Fears, phobias, or prejudices: How do they cope with their fears? Have they tried to overcome them?
Contradictions: How do they reconcile these contradictions, if at all?
Pet peeves: How do they react when annoyed?
Habits and quirks: Are their quirks known to others, or are they hidden?
Focus and obsessions: When did they acquire this focus? Do their obsessions cause problems or provide solutions?
Possessions of value: What sentimental items do they keep and why?
Health: Do they have any illnesses or conditions?
What they like about themselves: How do these positive aspects help them in difficult situations?
What they dislike about themselves: How do these negative aspects create internal conflict?
What they admire in others: What traits or worldviews do they consider positive? What makes them notice somebody?
What they dislike in others: What traits or worldviews rubs them the wrong way, and why?
Relationships
Family or guardians: How has their relationship with family members/caregivers shaped their personality?
Found family (if applicable): What binds them together?
Pets: What are their pet's personalities?
Friends: How did they meet these friends? What are their strongest memories together?
Allies and enemies: How did they gain allies and make enemies?
Past and current partners/love interests: Have they ever been in love? Describe any partners through the character’s eyes.
Mentors and confidants: How have these figures influenced their decisions and growth?
Heroes: Do they have idols, or someone to look up to? Which behaviors or traits influenced them the most?
Trust: How did they come to trust or distrust these individuals?
Background
Upbringing or parenting style: How did their childhood experiences shape their current behavior?
Formative memories: Which memories are most vivid for them, and why?
Education: How do they view their educational experiences? What subjects did they find fascinating, and which did they hate?
Major life events: How have these events redirected their path?
External experiences: Have any world events, conflicts or changes affected them?
Accomplishments: What achievements are they most proud of?
Failures: How have their failures impacted their self-esteem and future decisions?
Disappointments: How do they cope with disappointment? Have they learned from it?
Motivations
Goals: What short-term and long-term goals drive them?
What do they want?: How do their desires align with their goals?
How do they try to get it?: What strategies do they use to achieve their goals?
What happens if they do/don't succeed?: How do they handle success or failure?
Internal conflicts: What are their inner struggles and how do they manifest?
External conflicts: Who or what stands in their way, and how do they deal with these obstacles?
What are they trying to hide?: Why are they hiding this aspect of themselves? How would they manage its exposure?
How do they wish to be perceived?: How do they work towards this perception?
What are they proud of?: How does this pride influence their actions?
What are they ashamed of?: How does this shame affect their decisions and relationships?
What do they regret?: How do their regrets shape their present actions?
What is their legacy?: What impact do they hope to leave behind?
Communication Style
Language(s) spoken: How proficient are they in each language? Do they switch languages in different contexts?
Literacy: Are they good with words, or do they struggle to get their point across?
Accent: How does their accent influence others' perceptions of them?
Vocabulary and cadence: What unique speech patterns do they have?
Common turns of phrase or catchphrases: Are they funny, morose, profane, etc.? How do others respond to them?
Emotional range: How does their communication style change with their emotions?
Body language: What are their most noticeable non-verbal cues?
Visual cues or “tells”: How do others read their true feelings?
Style of humor: What type of humor do they prefer, and how do they use it in various interactions?
Emotional range
How do they display and react to...
Affection:
Joy:
Sadness:
Fear:
Surprise:
Anger:
Disappointment:
Praise:
Criticism:
Irritation:
Antagonism:
Attacks:
Sources: 1 2 3 4 Writing References: Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding
#character development#character building#writeblr#writing reference#spilled ink#dark academia#creative writing#template#original character#writing inspiration#writing ideas#light academia#literature#writers on tumblr#poets on tumblr#writing prompt#poetry#edmund blair leighton#writing resources
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❤︎ : MCL BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS !!
MCL BOYS . . . and little things about being in a relationship with them + habits they would have.
pairing. ot5 x f!reader
genre. fluff, little bit suggestive.
settle. established relationship ofc, this situates in mcl hsl since they´re teenagers in here.
content warning. mentions of sex in nath´s part but is way too subtle, kissing and the boys being whipped for you.
author´s note. i tried to make this as accurate and long as i could!! i love them so much :(
✧. - ̗̀ CASTIEL . . .
1. he would have such a SOFT spot for you, and it would be so obvious. you are basically the only one who can make him feel better when he is angry, and even though it may not seem like it, it is always very difficult for him to get angry with you. most of the fights you have are mostly in a joking way, mainly because he is way too patient with you, what makes it difficult for you to factually fight, and if it happens it has to be for a good reason. whenever he has a problem, or feels angry for some reason, he turns to you because he discovered that your presence calms him in some way, and he is more likely to take into account what you say about it than what other people say (literally does not care if someone tells him that something he´s doing is rude until you point it out). plus he can't help but give in to your attempts to make him smile when he's upset, which would bother him if it were someone else.
2. he would let you touch his electric guitar (which could result in homicide if someone else tried), he literally wouldn't care at all about trusting it to you. plus, I'm sure castiel would love to teach you how to play it, even if you understand absolutely nothing about music. from time to time he would teach you how to play easy melodies and tease you throughout the process, lovingly of course. it would be adorable to see him excitedly talking to you about something he likes, explaining in his own way how you should hold it, helping you by placing his hands on yours and smiling proudly when you achieve it. he wouldn't care if you couldn't do it, he'd really just enjoy spending time with you laughing when you hit the wrong note or when you forget what he was explaining to you. but it is true that he would be very excited to be able to share that with you.
3. so BOLD. i feel like all the time he would be saying the most out of pocket stuff that would make you blush intensely, and laugh about it because teasing YOU it´s his favorite thing to do. HE HAS NO SHAME, he wouldn't mind saying totally unexpected things in public or private just to see how your face immediately turns red. also would totally make dirty jokes just to watch your expression, also kissing you in public to fluster you would happen very often (i also feel like he wouldn´t do it in front of close friends, but would totally do it in front of strangers.) you could say that his main hobby is definitely embarrassing you.
4. SUCH A HEAVY SLEEPER, you could literally be shouting next to him but he would keep sleeping like a baby, not even MOVING the slightest. it´s funny because the only moment where he would actually wake up because of some movement, it would be when you pull away from his grip while cuddling for any reason. half awake he would simply mumble questions about why you moved, or just blink hard trying to see where you are so he can hug you again. his favorite way to cuddle would be spooning you, i don´t make the rules. he just loves feeling you snuggle against him and pull you closer. he woudn´t mind being spooned either if you liked it, but would prefer it the other way around.
5. he could be SO oblivious sometimes. like, for example, if you changed something in your looks he would take a good few minutes before noticing. or maybe with other things like you being mad. every time you would distance yourself from him because you´re angry, he wouldn´t notice. mainly because i feel like you two totally respect each other when needing space, but after you answering in a very sassy way he would just realize that maybe the reason of you distancing was something bothering you. he tries so hard tho to figure out these things 😭😭
6. used to dying his hair by himself since always, but it just takes a little insistence from you to let you help him. over time, it becomes a habit for both of you, so he always ask for your help whenever he´s about to start his hair treatment. it always ends up being a mess anyway, because he loves to get dye all over you whenever you do it just to annoy you a bit. (he also uses it as an excuse for you to massage his hair when washing it). and in case you would want to dye your hair he would gladly do it for you. but he just finds this moments so cute that he would do it so carefully and gently.
7. suddenly pull you into his lap to make you nervous, but actually enjoys a lot holding you. also loves to hold your waist, like, EVERYTIME. when you´re walking, hes already sliding his arm around ur waist. you two can be hugging and the first thing he would do is wrap his arms around your waist. the same when he´s kissing you, loves to pull you from the waist. would never admit how much he loves laying his head on your chest while cuddling, it soothes him.
8. for some reason i think castiel ignores EVERY message he gets. he´s just too lazy to answer, but only takes the time to answer yours. no matter the time, the place, or what he´s doing, he´ll type something back in response to whatever you sent. is also a huge hater on emojis, he would literally glare at the screen every time you send one. hate stickers too. ALSO HAS YOU AS HE WALLPAPER. would kill anyone who dares to tease about it. his phone has also a secret folder full of cute pictures of you. maybe sleeping, a blurry one walking, laughing, little videos of you two kissing, messing around, and he looks at every single one of them every time he misses you. he would be actually so shy if you ever saw it, he´s just so in love with you what can i say.
9. his kisses are the mos passionate thing ever. is just something about the way he makes you chase after him when he pulls away, the way even though he is normally unintentionally rough he completely changes when his lips are on yours. holding you so close to him by your waist, biting your lips from time to time, teasing you before actually kissing you, tracing the curves of your body while he deepens the kiss. he literally leaves you breathless every. single. time. the only way to fluster him is pulling him by his shirt and kissing him, he enjoys every time you do it even thought when you pull away you can see his blushing face.
✧. - ̗̀ NATHANIEL . . .
1. literally the most shy person at the start of your relationship. i think it would depend a lot when you two started dating. if it´s like in the game, he´ll probably won´t take long before actually being comfortable in the relationship. he´s been in one before, but the difference is that he never felt the way he does with you. i think he would anyway be so nervous to do almost anything. kissing, hugging, even expressing his love for you (which he does unconsciously anyways). he would wait for your consent before trying something like that until you literally have to explain to him that you´re totally fine with all of that.
2. he always find a way to help you anyway he can. it doesn´t matter what you´re struggling with, he will always be there to give you a hand. something i feel like something he always does for you, is remember the little things. i just think that nath is the kind of boyfriend who would be so attentive. he sometimes know you better than yourself, so he will always have your stuff prepared in case you need to go somewhere, he would bring you food he remembers you like, and would totally finish your homework for you when you´re too tired to do it yourself. he literally doesn´t care because he genuinely wants you to rest :(
3. SCARED of public pda. it´s not like a doesn´t want other people to know about your relationship or something, but he would never recover if someone saw you kissing, he´s just like that. anyway he´s totally fine with hand holding, you guys do it all the time. when he walks you home he always find a subtle way to graze his hand with yours until you get the hint (because he´s too nervous to ask you), and finally take his hand in yours. honestly, loves the intimacy it comes with it. loves to hold your hand under the table in a big group of people, while guiding you in crowds, while kissing, literally all. the. time. he takes hand holding even wen you´re both in bed, apart from the act itself, feels that holding your hand is a reminder that there are indeed feelings involved, gently intertwining fingers and gently pressing your hand from time to time in a loving gesture.
4. would love recommending books to you, and reading together. just laying in your lap while reading a book is all he needs to be happy. it´s okay tho if you don´t really enjoy reading, he just likes doing it in your company. in the case you like movies better, he would be fine watching anything you want, but secretly really likes romance movies. i strongly think that he randomly started reading to you at night whenever you stayed with him in his apartment. nath´s voice is so sweet and calm, that it lulls you to sleep almost instantly. also, he probably has the softest hands ever, and even softer every time he plays with your hair, so if you ever have trouble sleeping, you don´t have to worry about that anymore.
5. nath is mostly a light sleeper, and i think he is so prone to have nightmares. he sleeps better every time your next to him because you´re always ready to comfort him in case he wakes up scared. sometimes, when he´s alone and wakes up after having a horrible dream, he would think a lot about what to do since he just can´t sleep right away, the memories of the bad dream still livid. he would finally decide to text you something. if you´re up, he would like to call you and fall asleep while talking to you. if you´re not, he would just listen to your voice audios and try to regain sleep.
6. nath kisses are THE SWEETEST. he just adores kissing you when you´re alone. he always control himself when you´re in a public space, but in school would almost always wait for you both to be alone in the delegates room and would have a short make out sesh. he looks innocent, but he would be so passionate while kissing you. pressing you against the table, nibbling your lips, pulling you closer by the waist, the whole package. but the way he holds you is the purest thing i swear, so delicate and sweet that you get totally confused at the way he kisses you afterwards. he also loves staying there with you, simply hugging and pecking you in the lips form time to time.
7. loves back hugs. giving and receiving them. every time he´s stressed, you come up to him, and you just stay there, carefully squeezing his wait as you engulf him in a big hug. something about it makes him fell at ease, the closeness, the warmth, and the way your arms wrap around his torso and just stay there in complete silence, like you don´t need to say anything. when he´s upset, he does it a lot too and stays there like you´re some kind of charger. while sleeping is the exact same thing. i think we all remember that one episode in mcl where candy lays in nath´s bed and just hug him from behind. well, that´s exactly how i see them cuddling. no all the time tho, if you like being the little spoon is totally okay for him.
8. always sending you encouraging texts through the day: wishing you a good day, reminding you of something, sending some meme he finds funny, LOTS of stickers between texts, and stuff like that that totally brighten your day. also constantly likes to send you pics of his cat, calling you her mom all the time, which never fails to melt your heart. you´re the few people he trust enough to let you play with the little animal, hold her, feed her, and just petting it.
9. i feel like you two almost never really fight, just debate about stuff. but when something actually happens between i actually think nath would give you the silent treatment, in case you´re the one who messed up. also would give you that exasperated expression of him when he´s too stressed, and would be very petty. he would wait for you to come and apologize to him, which won´t long because he just can´t stay mad at you for too long. and if you´re the on who´s mad, in the first place he wouldn´t let you go, he would sit you down, wait till you´re not so angry, and talk about it while apologizing. he would try to understand you and give the time and space you need, still checking on you until you´re ready to forgive him.
✧. - ̗̀ LYSANDER . . .
1. the most romantic person in earth. he´s the kind of boyfriend who would LOVE to make handmade gifts for you. letters, crafts, and in general small details of things you like. dedicating love songs to you, most of the, written by him, leaving you notes throughout the day. i also feel like he would never forget to say good morning or good night to you, it's just part of his routine at this point. also has a lot of drawings of you in his note book, and is the most heartwarming thing ever. doodles of your face in his books, and some perfectly made drawings that would have him blushing if you ever saw one.
2. everything, but like, EVERYTHING reminds him of you. finds you in every single thing he looks at. it can be a cute picture, some object, a flower, a song. he always projects in the things he does, and mos of the time you´re the only thing he thinks about. i just feel like he he´s so whipped for you to a point where you won´t even understand. zones out all the time, mostly when he starts thinking of you (cough, cough, all day, cough).
2. castiel is TIRED. he talks his ear off all day about you, just ranting about every little thing you do for him. he literally knows so much about you two that he´s like the third one in the relationship at this point. he also notices how lysander always find a way to add something about you in every song. when it´s a song that they share, is very subtle, he just knows it because he probably mentioned it. but in the songs lys writes in his private notebook, they literally BASED on you.
3. LOVES to sing for you. his favorite moments are when you just lay your head in his lap and listen to his soothing voice whispering the lyrics of some song he wrote, which you instantly notice is about you. he doesn´t try to hide it anyway, but for some reason i feel like no matter how many songs he sang to you he just gets nervous every time. no because he thinks you won´t like it or something, is just that he talks about you in them in a way that is so disgustingly sweet and in love. also writes a lot of poems for you, and leaves them in your seat at the start of the day and loves watching your reaction while you read it.
4. stares a lot at you, in the most sweet way ever. actually so good at making eye contact (finds adorable how you´re always the first to look away blushing). his eyes literally shine the brightest when they´re focused on you, he doesn´t even blink for long seconds. his favorite past time is memorizing your features. this is why he know exactly how to read you. lys always know the exact face you make when you´re mad, the way you furrow your eyebrows when you´re confused or disagree with something, he know the exact color of your eyes, he literally knows your entire body language at this point, you don´t even have to talk because he already figured out what you´re thinking.
5. i feel like he´s the one normally initiating pda anywhere. he doesn´t really shows much affection in public, but would love having you sit on his lap while wrapping his arms around you and pressing his head against your back. lots of affection while passing by, just because he genuinely can´t keep his hands from himself. brushing his hand in your waist while passing, quick cheek kisses, lovesick smiles in the distance, instantly finding you in a crowded place and seeing him look at you with hearts in his eyes from afar, brief back hugs.
6. FOREHEAD KISSES. FOREHEAD KISSES. FOREHEAD KISSES. i think his main love language. he just finds forehead kisses something so sweet and intimate that he does it all the time. after a kiss he pulls away just to softly kiss your forehead. when he hugs you, he kisses your forehead or the top of your head because hes way more taller than you. while sleeping he does the same thing, since his favorite cuddle position is facing each other he kisses your forehead from time to time before dozing off.
7. his kisses are truly the most delicate thing ever. is just something about the way he pulls you closer, not even touching you, just placing his fingertips in your chin, tilting your face up to kiss you so slow, savoring the moment, tracing your jawline and carefully cupping your cheek after. and the way he pulls away makes you instantly chase after him. he´s so gentle, holding you like you´re made of glass, even sometimes biting so softly you just feel a little tingling sensation before he returns to kiss you sweetly.
8. loves taking care of you. every time you need help, just call, he´s there for you. you´re sick? he´s standing in front of your door with a bag full of food, your favorite snacks, and meds. you´re hungry? he doesn´t mind buying things for you, but prefers making the most delicious homemade meals (husband material fr). if you normally sleep late, he will totally scold you for not taking care of yourself and always makes sure you ate, drank enough water, and slept full 8 hours.
9. surprisingly good at giving advice, he just know how to say the right thing in the right moment, he doesn´t like arguments, so he normally hates fighting with you. he truly doesn´t mind who´s right and who´s wrong, all he wants is talk things out with you to fix everything. so he does the same thing when you fight to someone, he strongly believes the best way to make things up is giving each other and space and accepting your mistakes. also i totally know that it doesn´t matter how mad he is at you, he would never raise his voice or disrespect you. the way he still cares for you ad calls you cute names while subtly showing affection is the most heartwarming thing. he wouldn´t mess things up with you because of a temporary fight.
✧. - ̗̀ ARMIN . . .
1. can we all agree that armin and you are married, live together and raise your 4 children in sims? the moment you found about it was the literal most funny thing ever, he was casually showing you how he designed you two in his game and made a family in there, explaining everything with so much detail it actually seemed so real. YOU LITERALLY LOOK THE SAME IN THE GAME IT´S SURPRISING. he secretly wishes that his future with you looks exactly like that. it may seem like something he does for fun, but he literally aspires to have all of that with you.
2. gives you the most out of pocket petnames you can think of. both of you love to fight with each other who can come up with the most ridiculous pet names and just laugh your ass off while doing it. anyways it´s not so funny when he starts calling you his "pookie wookie bear" in public. he loves to do it tho because of how embarrassed you get. enjoys. every. second. hes totally unfazed when you do the same tho he genuinely finds it so hilarious. and if you call him an actually sweet petname, he´ll totally become a blushing mess so pls do it often, because he secretly screams internally every time you do.
3. you´re the only one who gets to touch his console. every time you two hang out in his house he lets you lay with him cuddling as you play together. so happy to share something he likes so much with you. he would also do things that he normally wouldn´t just to see your smile. he wants to share your hobbies just like you do with him, so all you have to do is say the word and he would do whatever you want, for example, going out. we all know he hates it but, for you, he would make an effort.
4. sucker for you playing with his hair. he finds it the most calming thing ever. it´s so funny how he randomly comes up to you, and lays his head in you thighs and you immediately know what he wants. literally vibrates from joy the moment your soft fingers start playing with his locks, softly scratching his scalp, and leaving kisses from time to time. also pls do it while you kiss him. his brain malfunctions every time you do it because he can´t take so much at the same time.i mean, your soft lips kissing his with so much love while you casually slide your hand through his hair, interlocking your fingers with it even pulling softly when he kisses you deeper? he melted. his kisses are so playful tho. loves to come up unexpectedly and steal kisses from you to make you flustered.
5. SO AWKWARD every time he comforts you. he tries so hard but even though he tries so hard to come up with something struggles so much to find the right words. it breaks him to see you cry, but sometimes its you who throws themselves in his arms before he clumsily wraps them around you and pats your back. he really wants to say something but he prefers to just hold you until you feel better. doesn´t pressures you to talk if you don´t want to, but is actually a very good listener and would silently stare at you while you rant about whatever is bothering you. also adds threats to whoever made you upset from time to time just to see your smile and chuckle about it.
6. he doesn´t mind about public affection. it´s not because he wants to make you nervous or anything, he literally doesn´t care who´s around. alexy for example doesn´t even care anymore because of how used he is to you two being affectionate. most of the time armin completely forgets where you two are, and just wrap his arms around you resting his head in top of yours, holding hands in front of everyone, unexpectedly kissing you whenever he feels like it. would GLARE if anyone dares to say something about it. i mean, he just loves affection, he hates staying away from you for too long so don´t expect him to be subtle. he also loves showing affection through little things like remembering little things about you.
7. LOVES horror movies. i just know it. normally uses them as an excuse to make you scared and snuggle against him every time something scary appears in the screen, and wrap his arms around you. anyway, he´s actually unfazed about everything he sees. i feel like it´s so hard to scare him. like, you have to pick a very good movie to make him at least flinch. definitely sleeps while watching 😭
8. loves to play silly jokes on you. can´t go a moment without making a joke, literally. loves to prank you every time he gets the chance, mostly scaring you for jumping out of nowhere because he finds the faces you make the funniest thing ever. also i feel like armin would sen you funny pics of him out of nowhere, a lot of memes, and random pictures he finds amusing.
9. SO unserious sometimes. this normally lead to both of you fighting a lot. i mean, you two would normally argue over a lot of stuff. not like actual fights most of the time, but the both of you are so petty that there is always someone who will be right and prove the other person wrong. worse when it's really something important and many times armin doesn't take it seriously, which usually happens because fighting stresses him out, and his way of dealing with it is by making jokes about it to lessen the tension. since this bothers you, you two end up fighting worse. in those cases, armin is initially convinced that he did nothing wrong and has no reason to apologize. it is almost always alexy who must intervene to explain to him that in fact, he is the one who is wrong and convince him (force him) to apologize, which he always does. anyway, over time, as he adapts more to the relationship and things get more serious, he learns to improve in that aspect, although you are almost always quite tolerant too.
✧. - ̗̀ KENTIN . . .
1. do i need to say that kentin is the most sweet boyfriend ever? i feel like hes the whole package. attentive, sweet, good listener, and SO PUPPY CODED. being with you literally makes him the happier person in earth, as cheesy as it sounds. he has no problem in telling you that all the time. he struggles a little but he out of nowhere starts ranting about how much he loves you, which you gladly listen to every time.
2. the most invested in physical contact. I think that kentin was always a loving person, but from the moment he discovered that specifically YOUR TOUCH is what makes him feel like he never had before, he also discovered that he hates being separated from you. he might even seem too clingy at times, since he literally sometimes feels his body ACHE from being separated from you for too long. he always seeks to touch you in some way, touching hands, hugs, kisses, anything that involves closeness.
3. kentin has no problem with affection in public, although generally you are the one who initiates it (in case you feel comfortable with that). however, the moment you show him in some way that it doesn't bother you at all, prepare to have him on top of you almost all the time. he doesn't really abuse it, but he does like to hold your hand and peck you from time to time, although he does blush if someone mentioned something about it. although he doesn't mind too much after getting used to it. his hold is literally the most soothing ever. its just something about the way his hands fit perfectly into yours, the way he gets lost in your eyes every time you two made eye contact, the blushing in his face when you´re the one kissing him first, and all the little gestures.
4. kentin kisses are literally the most breathtaking thing ever. he can never get enough of the taste of your lips in his. its just that he sometimes can believe the person he´s been dreaming about for so long is reciprocating his feeling, it sometimes gets too much for him. glossy eyes, faint touches, and loving caresses are the kind of things you can expect after kissing him (in private, of course). he just feels so vulnerable every time you cradle his face with your hands and get on your tiptoes to kiss him. i think he tries to be gentle, but ends up almost every time kissing you a little roughly, he just can´t help it sometimes. something he often does after kissing you, is pressing his forehead against yours just a moments before catching his breath and kissing you again.
5. he can be really insecure sometimes when it´s about you. he doesn´t find himself special to the point of deserving a partner so amazing like you, so, why would you even be with him while having so much other options? this thoughts get to him pretty regularly at the start of your relationship, because everything is so new to him and you´re just so important in his life that he needs a lot of reassurance during moments like this. he normally tells you about how he feels, but sometimes it gets a little hard for him to express himself. you know very well how to read him tho, he can be very transparent sometimes about his emotions. but after he gets more comfy in the relationship and starts maturing an realizing that you´re with him for a reason, this thoughts get almost inexistent.
6. can´t go a single day without cuddling with you. i think ken is actually very protective of you, which also shows in the way he likes to hold you. his favorite cuddling position his holding you securely against his chest, so he feels like protects you. and he totally does, because every time his strong arms wrap around you, pressing impossibly closer to each other is when you feel like nothing in the world can harm you as long as he´s there. but sometimes i think he wouldn´t mind AT ALL being held by you. there are those days where he feels like he´s just too tired and the only thing he needs is you, s he just lets himself relax in your embrace, calming himself by the sound of your heart beating.
7. loves hanging out with you. you guys see each other almost every single day. in high school, and then you both normally hang out a lot after that, normally going to the park, ken taking you on dates, taking a walk with cookie, making video call until late hours, and basically just coming out with any plan he can think of just to spend more time with you. you guys talk about a lot of stuff while chilling together anywhere you two decided would be a good place. talking about the future, where he always includes you.
8. LOVES making playlist for you and the sending them for you to listen to all the songs that reminds him of you. also, it normally ends with both of you blasting each one in your room while messily singing to the lyrics and laughing. i feel like he also loves to spend his time watching movies, and is totally the kind of person who wouldn´t shut up and would accidentally spoil you lol he always gets scolded by you.
9. kentin always does the impossible to avoid fights with you because he just can´t stand to know that helps the one upsetting you. if you guys fight over minor stuff he would apologize anyway, but he would be totally relieved you aren´t actually mad at him. but please never yell at him, or say something mean because kentin would literally cry. he actually does sometimes when the argument is serious and you just walk away out of anger. even if it hurts him he normally gives you space if you tell him (he would prefer not to because of his clingy ass but like, he gets it) but as soon as things cooled down, he would think of whatever he can do to fix things up (and just like lys, he doesn´t even care about who´s right). honestly, he just wants to make up as soon as possible.
©allmcl !
#amor doce#amour sucre#cdm#corazon de melon#mcl#mcl armin#mcl boys#mcl castiel#mcl high school life#mcl kentin#mcl nathaniel#my candy love#my candy love hsl#mcl fluff#mcl lysander#mcl hsl#fluff#headcanons#castiel fluff#nathaniel fluff#lysander fluff#armin fluff#kentin fluff
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The Weekend | Eren x Chubby!Reader
Summary; Eren and Mikasa have been “dating” and while reader originally had no interest in him, the way Mikasa’s been acting sure does make him look more appealing ;)
Warnings; Smut, “cheating”(they’re not explicitly boyfriend and girlfriend), College AU! P in V, cunnilingus, cum eating, slight breeding kink, Mikasa and Historia are pick me’s and terrible friends lol. Loosely based on the song by SZA(might make a part 2 idkk, not proofread) PART 2
It was a bit difficult making friends at your University. For the most part, everyone had their set friend group so you knew it wouldn’t be easy finding people to hang out with during this new semester.
That’s why you were glad to meet Mikasa and Historia.
They were both in your Sociology class at Eldia University and they were having a bit of trouble when you offered help. They were nice, though they could be a bit catty. They introduced you to their other friends so you thought they were nice enough, but you noticed a change when they were around the guys.
They would make offhand comments about your figure, your outfits, sometimes your attitude. It was off putting, to put it lightly. So, you’re thicker than the two of them, so what? It shouldn’t affect them. And while they may be comfortable suffering in silence, you were definitely going to speak up when you felt like it.
You were certain it was jealousy. The way they spluttered when you asked them to elaborate, the way they flustered when you mentioned that maybe they just couldn’t pull off plus-sized the way you could, had you feeling vindicated. And the way the boys always seemed to laugh at your jokes had them blatantly envious.
It was a bit pathetic to witness sometimes, the way guys would defend you from their “playful jabs” had thinly veiled sneers etching onto their faces.
— —
It was clear to everyone Mikasa had a thing for Eren and while you thought he was attractive, you could see him being more suited for her. And if the way he casually draped his arm around her shoulder meant anything, you’d say he thought the same. You were sure that she was his type, so she didn’t have anything to worry about.
That’s why it was such a shock when Historia told you she’d slept with him.
“I mean, if he really wanted her, they’d be together already, y’know.” She casually dropped the bomb when it was just the two of you. She was so blasé about it, applying her lipgloss as she made you promise not to say anything, throwing in a thinly veiled threat, “I mean, it’s not like anyone would believe you anyway. Plus, you don’t want to be by yourself, right?”
It wasn’t so much the threat that made you keep your mouth closed, honestly, you had more morals than that, it was more so Mikasa’s attitude toward the hypothetical.
Throughout your entire “friendship” with the two girls, they’d always seen you as a non-factor. When you’d go to parties, they’d flirt with whomever showed even the slightest bit of interest in you and whenever you’d bring it up, they’d just gaslight you. “If he was really interested, then he wouldn’t have gotten distracted, would he?” And for the longest time, you had explained away their behavior because, yeah, you don’t want a guy that’ll easily stray, but, fuck. If it didn’t piss you off.
You’d originally wanted to tell her in a roundabout way, asking how she would feel if one of her friends were interested in Eren. Her answer, however, caused an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach. “Like who? Historia doesn’t see him like that and no offense, but you know Eren wouldn’t like someone like you.” That got you to thinking.
They think I’m a joke.
You wanted to tell Mikasa. You wanted to tell her when she spent nights crying to you and Historia about how Eren doesn’t open up to her anymore, how she felt he was slipping away.
You wanted to tell her what Eren really thought of her. The way he spent some nights ranting about how he felt obligated to date her, that sometimes he thinks of her as a fucking nuisance, like a snake that keeps coiling around his neck, suffocating. The times he’d wished she’d just take a fucking hint and get that he didn’t see a future with her.
You wanted to tell her about all the times Eren flirted with you, told you not to listen to any of her comments because, yeah, she could never pull off looking as good as you do. The times when he’d purposefully walk behind you, gripping at your soft waist and brushing his clothed cock against your ass, making sure you can really feel the length of him.
You wanted to tell her that even though she might be “dating” him, he was always coming back to your dorm late at night, hiking up his shirt around your waist and pressing his face into your chubby pussy, tonguing at your walls and pulling wave after wave of pleasure from you. That even though Historia may have had him that one time, he’s with you damn near every weekend, playing house.
— —
You’re on all fours, your back arched perfectly to make the glide of Eren’s cock in your sopping cunt that much easier. “Fuck, baby. You’re g’nna make me cum.” He grits out, teeth clenched. You’re squeezing him like a vice, your pussy creaming around his dick so deliciously he can taste the orgasm on his tongue.
He’ll never get tired of this, he’ll never get over how perfect your pussy molds for his cock, the velvety feeling of your cunt clenching around him. He’s panting, sweat dripping from his forehead before landing on the deep arch in your back, trickling down. Fuck, he just wants to devour you all over again.
“‘Ren, g’nna cum.” You moan for him, fuck, your voice is so fucking cute, the way your voice gets all high and whiny, has his cock throbbing inside you. “Cum f’me, pretty. Make a mess f’me.” He groans out.
It’s embarrassing, the way your pussy squelches as he fucks into you. He fashions your hair into a makeshift ponytail before pulling, bringing your back flush against his chest. His hands are everywhere, groping and pawing at your soft flesh.
He picks up the tempo of his thrusts, cock slamming into your warm, gushy center. He’s whining in your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, but it’s not until you hear him mumble about fucking a baby into you that you cum around his cock for the nth time that day. Your orgasm triggers his and before long his cock is pulsing as he fills you full of him.
You’re both panting as you slowly come down from your highs, Eren slowly removing his cock from your abused cunt and the sight of your poor battered pussy has Eren feeling a bit.. peckish.
You’re too busy catching your breath to notice Eren kissing along your spent body, only letting out a surprised yelp when you feel his hands spreading your cheeks and licking a bold stripe up your center.
You gasp as he eats you out like a man starved, slurping up your combined essence before sucking on your clit. His hands grope the flesh of your ass, occasionally leaving a bruising spank to each side.
He’s practically making out your cunt, tonguing at the soft flesh and pressing wet kisses to your clit before lapping at the bundle of nerves.
It doesn’t take long before another orgasm washes over you, soaking Eren’s face in your arousal. When he finally comes up for air, he’s pulling you into a wet kiss, the taste of you dancing on his tongue.
He pulls back slightly, pressing a quick peck to your cheek before getting up, moving to get the necessary items for aftercare. He cleans you up, dresses you in one of his favorite shirts and slides on a pair of boxers for himself before sidling next to you. He pulls you flush against his chest, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead as he traces shapes down your back.
This is why you always feel slightly bad for Mikasa. You know she craves for this level of intimacy with Eren and you know that her heart will break when he breaks the news of your relationship to her on Monday.
*sigh* If only she didn’t feel like a 9-5.
— —
Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon
#x chubby reader#anime x chubby reader#anime x black!reader#x black reader#anime x reader#attack on titan x reader#eren yeager x chubby reader#eren jaeger x chubby reader#eren yeager x black reader#eren yeager x reader#eren jaeger x reader#aot x reader#aot x chubby reader#aot x black reader#attack on titan x chubby reader#attack on titan x black reader
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Finally managed to finish this fic 🧘🏻♀️ this one is for the members of Haku Gfs Club™️ @ghoulspaw @kusanagihaku and @pinkaditty
I just gave it a read so it's not properly edited – I apologize if there are too many mistakes in it ;-; I'm not super satisfied with this one, but I hope you guys like it <3 Also, it's a standalone, so there will be no continuation!
The title comes from a Florence+ The Machine song, Addicted to Love.
might as well face it
You never really knew why Haku didn't frequent Rui's bar. And honestly, you never thought of asking either. Among the thousands of secrets every ghoul always kept from you, that one seemed innocuous enough for you to ignore.
So, when Rui called you at 3am on a weekday, you would never guess he would ask you to escort Haku back to Hotarubi.
“Sorry, doll, you're the only one I can ask to help me with this.” Rui's voice sounded sincerely apologetic. “There's no one else here in the bar, I promised Lyca I'd help him with his homework – and you know how he gets when he's expecting something – and Subaru isn't answering his phone.”
You shrugged, as you changed out of your pajamas.
“I mean, it IS late at night and he’s way more responsible than us. But what happened to him?”
“Oh, you know.” You imagined Rui waving his hand dismissively. “Hakucchi can't hold his liquor very well. He's wasted.”
You pursed your lips, trying hard not to laugh. The thought of the most nonchalant and aloof man you knew tripping on his own feet amused you more than it probably should.
“And why can't he stay in one of the rooms like Haru does sometimes?”
Rui sighed loudly.
“He's adamant on going back to Hotarubi. I'm trying to keep him here for a little longer because I'm worried about him just crashing and sleeping in the middle of Obscuary's woods. Who knows, he could legit die on his way back.”
It was your turn to sigh loudly. A dull headache was slowly forming in the back of your head.
“Okay… I'm going.” You grumbled as you made your way outside of your dorm and into the chilly night. “He's lucky I wasn't asleep yet.”
“Thank you, cutie, I owe you one and Haku will owe you his life~” Rui made a sharp kissing sound on his end of the line, quickly hanging up before you could have any change of heart.
And after a hurried walk towards Obscuary and sincere apologies from Rui, you ended up trudging through the campus with a very much inebriated, heavy, limp-bodied Haku leaning on your shoulder – his sultry voice murmuring nonsensical things in your ear as you suppressed a shiver from going down your spine.
His breath smelled like one of Rui's sweet, sparkly drinks – the ones you drank when you didn't want to wake up the next day with a mean hangover.
Haku really was extremely lightweight, it seemed.
“You smell so good” Haku murmured, nuzzling your head as he leaned all his weight onto your body, feet dragging clumsily on the ground.
Not only were you struggling not to trip and fall headfirst onto the asphalt, bringing a grown man down with you; said grown man made the task all the more difficult as he kept on shamelessly flirting with you.
“Haku, please, can't you help me a little bit here? Try to walk a bit too, come on.” You grunted, pushing him away from you, only to have him throw his arms around your shoulders once more.
“But it feels so good like this.” He murmured way too close to your ear and you gritted your teeth, shutting your eyes tightly in order to keep your thoughts from going to places you really didn't want to visit.
Haku's breathy, silky voice had always been your worst and weakest point. Sometimes you wondered if he knew it, consciously or not. If he did, it would definitely explain how he always sounded just a little bit more husky, just a little bit more sultry whenever you two were alone.
“I can't carry you properly like this, though?! Look, we're already at Hotarubi. Try to walk just a little bit longer, please?” You huffed and puffed, the exertion and the warmth of his body overpowering the cold night and causing you to break a sweat.
“Hmm…” he hummed before rubbing his cheek against your hair, then sighed. “Okay… but just because it's you who's asking.”
Haku straightened his back as much as he could, slinging just one arm around your shoulder, and stumbled inside his dorm. You finally managed to breathe properly, relieved of all the dead weight he had been putting on your shoulder.
Still, you navigated through Hotarubi's slippery corridors quite poorly as Haku's head hung low and he blinked slowly, fading in and out of a drunken sleep while you dragged him to his room.
Once inside, you watched with an amused and exasperated look as Haku stumbled towards his futon, letting himself fall heavily onto it, face down, with a loud groan of someone who subconsciously knew he'd very much regret his choice to drink afterwards.
You wiped the sweat off of your forehead while you walked towards him.
“Sit up just a little bit. You can't sleep with your uniform like this.”
He shuffled on his bed, slowly propping himself on his elbows.
“Trying to get me out of my clothes, are you, Honor Student? How bold you are. Thought you'd ask me out for dinner first.” He murmured with a smirk and half-lidded eyes.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and pushing all of your confusing emotions away. You would not deal with your feelings right then and there. Not when Haku was so obviously out of his mind.
“You can't sleep with your blazer otherwise you'll wrinkle it. Unless you're a Frostheim bourgeois who has a whole collection of these expensive ass blazers. If not, you need to take it off.” you said, exasperated. You held out your hand, motioning for him to give you his clothes.
He raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly, as if you had said something incredibly wise. You very much knew how expensive those blazers were after seeing how careful Kaito was with his. You wouldn’t let Haku just ruin his uniform.
He clumsily took off his blazer and handed it to you.
“You know, rumor has it that I might have been, in fact, a Frostheim bourgeois.”
You were trying so very hard not to notice the scent of sandalwood that clung in his blazer as you hung it on a nearby chair, that you almost didn't pay attention to the little gem of information he seemed to be offering to you. Almost.
“Well... Were you?” you asked with one eyebrow raised.
He grinned mischievously, putting a finger on his lips and shushing loudly. You rolled your eyes at his drunken antics as you scooted closer to help him out of his vest and tie.
“Sit properly so I can help you out of this vest and necktie.”
He pouted, rolling his head back. The sharp pops of his neck made him grimace.
“I think… That you’re enjoying undressing me.” he smirked as his head hung to the side. “You can always do this, you know, you just have to ask.”
You fidgeted in your position and pressed the heels of your hands on your eyes. You rubbed your face, trying hard to erase the tingling feeling on your cheeks and ignore his unabashed flirting.
‘He’s drunk. He’s just fucking drunk’ you chanted in your mind and took a deep breath.
“I’m just trying to help you not ruin the most expensive parts of your uniform, you dumbass.” you muttered, avoiding eye contact.
Haku threw his head to the other side, placing a hand over his heart as if you had just physically hurt him.
“Oh, how cold, Honor Student.” he sighed, head still limp as if he couldn’t hold it upright, but began to shuffle in place as he sat properly on his futon.
You held your breath while you opened his vest as fast as you possibly could, ignoring the heaviness of his gaze. He blinked lazily, eyes scanning your face and your hands as you fiddled with his buttons and then moved to loosen his tie.
You tried not to notice how he licked his lips when you pushed the vest out of his shoulders, but the gooseflesh that pricked your skin was proof that you failed.
“Hey.” He called out to you, voice hoarse and low - the type of voice you had always imagined he would have during early mornings, right after waking up, when his golden eyes would still be glossy with sleepiness.
You shook your head, pushing the thought away, and got up to place his vest and tie on the chair, right on top of his blazer.
“Yes?” you asked, straightening imaginary wrinkles on his clothes only to avoid his eyes.
Haku paused for a moment, as if waiting for you to turn around to look at him. When you didn’t, he took a deep breath and leaned back on his elbows once again.
“I'm so in love with you.” He murmured with a lazy smile on his face and his eyes closed, as if he had just told you the most obvious thing in the world.
You closed your eyes as your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists, gripping the fabric of his uniform tightly and undoing all your efforts of keeping it pristine and straightened.
Despite yourself, you felt a giddiness bubble inside your stomach. You wondered how many nights you’ve spent imagining scenarios in which he would say that exact thing.
Scenarios in which you actually deserved him saying such things while sober and not an overly-affectionate drunk.
You were quiet when you kneeled besides his feet to untie his laces and take off his shoes and socks.
“You hear? I'm in love with you.” He repeated as he nudged you with his knee, opening his eyes for a moment to check if you were actually paying attention. You gritted your teeth, jaw visibly flexing.
“Huh. Is that so.” You answered, bitter and cold, but your dismissal seemed to have gone over his head as he closed his eyes and sighed with a dreamy look on his face.
“Yeah. I love you. So much.”
You shot up to your feet, as if his words shocked you like an electric current, and walked towards his desk to grab his water bottle. You placed it right beside him with a heavy, tired sigh. You really didn't need that at that moment.
“Do you have paracetamol so you can take it if you need it during the morning?”
Haku furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, nose scrunching in a way that he never did while sober. You cursed yourself for thinking he looked adorable.
“Aren't you gonna say anything?” He asked.
“About?”
“I love you.”
You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the leaps of your heart whenever he said those words.
“You're drunk, Haku.” You breathed out, looking at him with exasperation in your voice.
“And…?”
“You're spewing nonsense.” You muttered, dusting yourself off only to avoid his gaze and to keep your hands occupied. “Go to sleep and you'll feel better tomorrow.”
“You don't believe me?” Haku widened his eyes, a tinge of hurt audible in his honeyed voice.
“The alcohol is making you say things you don't mean. Go to sleep.”
“You don't believe me.” Hurt quickly changed to incredulity.
“Good night, Haku. If you need anything, you can send me a message.”
“No, wa-wait.”
Haku quickly tried to get on his feet, but the dizziness still clouded his movements and he ended up tripping, falling on his knees. You gasped and kneeled beside him, eyes trained on his knees that had hit the tatami floor with an uncomfortable thud.
“Are you okay?” You asked, hand hovering over his back.
Haku slowly turned his head towards you. His golden slitted eyes glinted with something you couldn't quite understand.
“Why don't you believe me?” He murmured.
You opened your mouth, then closed it – no words made their way out of your lips.
God fucking dammit.
How could you even begin to explain to him all the reasons why you couldn't believe in him – but mostly how you couldn't believe in yourself – no matter how much you wanted to?
“Do you think I would lie about something like that?” He narrowed his eyes, looking at you as if you had broken his heart.
“I don't.” You found your voice after long, uncomfortable seconds. “I just think you're letting the alcohol make you believe things that aren't true.”
He shook his head vigorously and you couldn't help but think that it probably made his dizziness a lot worse.
“I wouldn't let some alcohol make me confess my love for anyone else.” he grasped your hand with a lot more force than you were expecting him to have. You tried to pull it away, but his grip was that of steel.
“Please… go to sleep.” you felt your throat tightening and a pressure behind your eyes.
“I've thought of you every single moment of my days ever since I saw you. You don't get to dictate how I feel just because you don't feel the same way as I do.” his brows furrowed again, sudden aggravation taking up his features.
You almost gasped. Haku never got angry at you, not even when you were a lot to handle, nor when you made his life a bit harder. What an irony it was that the first time would be while he was confessing.
“That's not what this is about.” you shook your head.
“Then what is it?”
You felt your bottom lip quiver slightly. You quickly bit it hard, in order to keep your emotions at bay, ducking your hand down and shutting your eyes tightly.
You briefly regretted taking Rui's call. Opening the can of worms that was your feelings for Haku was probably one of the last things you wanted to do late at night, in the middle of the week. You had spent too much time closing that can very tightly, vacuum sealing it and stashing it in the depths of your mind, only to have all your effort ruined in mere minutes.
Haku placed his other hand on your cheek, gently tilting your head back up. You kept your eyes shut.
“It's okay if you don't love me.” He murmured, the same tinge of sorrowful acceptance in his voice as the one you usually heard when he talked about his family. “It won't change how I feel. I just want to know from your mouth.”
“Haku…” your eyelids fluttered.
“Just say you don't like me. Look me in the eyes and say it. And I promise I'll leave you be.”
You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. His pupils were blown out and you could barely make out the golden ring of his irises. He looked at you with an adoration that could genuinely make you sick.
“I can't.” you whispered and leaned into his touch.
“Then-”
“I can't just doom you, Haku. I can't take you down with me. You can find someone better, someone who deserves you. Someone who isn't cursed.” you blurted out, the words flowing freely from your lips now that the dam had been broken.
“Don't say that.”
“But it's true. I would… I would love to let you love me.” At that, his eyes opened wide and you could almost see hope forming deep inside them. “But I can't, in good conscience.”
Haku leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.
“Why?”
“It would be selfish of me. What if I die from my curse? You'd be hurt.” You gulped, shaking your head and backing away from him. “And worse, what if I hurt you if I become a monster?”
His hand, still gripping yours tightly, pulled you back close to him. His eyes were wide, wild, searching yours.
“And why would any of this matter?”
You blinked, confused.
“What?”
Haku scoffed, as if you were being absolutely stupid. As if you were the drunk one.
“I already love you. I don't need your permission to feel my feelings. Even if you kept me at arm's length, it wouldn't change how I feel.”
You were quiet as he grabbed your other hand and held both of them tightly against his chest. You could feel the loud and fast thump of his heart against your skin.
“And if you let me, we can look for a solution together. Worst case scenario, we'd be together for less time than I wished for. But any time with you would already be perfect.” He rested his forehead against yours once again. “Even if it was just a second.”
God. Zenji was right when he said Haku was a charmer. Your breath hitched in your throat.
“I wouldn't say this kind of thing to just anyone, though. Not sober, nor drunk. I can only say it to you.” he added, finally.
Your shuddering breath was the only sound between the two of you as you allowed his words to sink into your brain.
Deep down, you knew your hesitancy was never because of his drunken state, although it still kept you on your toes. As much as you were aware that your fears were the main source of your insecurity, a small part of you was still terribly afraid of him forgetting it all in the morning.
You felt his breath get heavier and deeper for a few seconds before Haku hurriedly shuffled onto his feet and stumbled fast towards the balcony of his room, which hovered just a few inches over Hotarubi's lake. You winced when you heard the muffled sounds of him throwing up.
After a few minutes, he dragged his feet back to his room, looking ashamed and terribly disheveled.
“Are you okay?” You asked, handing him his water bottle.
“I'm sorry.” He said, voice raspy after the strain. He took long, big gulps of water before sighing loudly.
“It's okay.” You chuckled, leading him towards his futon. “Go lie down and sleep. Please?”
Haku eyed you with utter indignation.
“We will continue our conversation tomorrow.” he stated, seriously, but finally relenting to your request. You nodded, sighing.
“Yes, yes, we will. Now go lie down, okay?” You pushed him gently, helping him as he tried to get on top of his bed.
“And I will repeat every word I said to you in the morning when I'm completely sober just so you can't say I'm lying.” He continued while you fluffed his pillow and helped him get under his covers.
“Even if I have a huge headache and feel like shit, I will repeat everything.” He muttered, eyes quickly getting heavy as you finished tucking him neatly into his bed.
You couldn't help but smile as his eyes so quickly grew heavy with sleep, while still mumbling incoherent things.
“Good night, Haku” you whispered.
Between long, heavy blinks, he turned his head towards you.
“I love you.” He whispered one last time, before finally letting sleep wash over his body.
Your heart twisted inside your chest – a mix of fear, apprehension and excitement bubbling in your chest and your stomach, that could make you scream. Instead, you watched as his breathing got deep and even, before gently pushing his hair away from his forehead.
You leaned in, placing a faint kiss on his forehead, inhaling the comforting scent of incense that followed him wherever he went.
Against his skin, you confessed.
“I love you too.”
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looking through your eyes + thirty two
authors note: we're nearing the end, folks. buckle up!
cw/tw: fluff, angst, and smut
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form
words: 12k
“Baby, look.”
Roman redirects his focus from the text reply he was formulating to Dwayne to glance over at his wife who’s angling her phone screen toward him.
Naturally, he’s confused by what he’s looking at, seeing a lot of colors, several words in different fonts/sizes, and what looks like fruit.
“What is this?”
Solana smiles and leans against his arm, explaining, “this is what our girls look like right now.” Realizing how that sounds considering she’s showing him a picture of actual fruit, Solana explains, “well, this is how big they are right now. The size of two Limes.”
And, it’s only when she says that, Roman takes the time to really look at the screen. To see that it in fact reads, “At 12 weeks, your babies are about as big as two lines” accompanied by a graphic of two limes as well as other things, one of them prompting him to point and ask. “And that?”
Solana’s smile deepens. “That’s what they probably look like.” Rubbing her belly, she clarifies, “it might not be an exact match, but pretty close.” She looks over at Roman, ready to explain more when she sees it. Sees the amazement. The surprise. The emotion.
“Shit,” he finally breathes, eyes still on the phone. “They….they’re growing fast.”
Solana nods, kissing his shoulder. “According to my app, their pituitary gland is producing hormones, and their bone marrow is making white blood cells, which will help them fight off germs.” Solana’s explanation is accompanied by her showing him her phone with the information displayed.
Roman scoffs, finally looking at her and asking, “how did you get this? Is it something the doctor gave you or—”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s just a pregnancy app. I’ve tried out a couple, but I really like this one.”
“How do I get it on my phone?” He asks, Solana partially taken back by his interest, though it makes sense when she thinks about it. Her husband is a man who likes to be in the know and have information readily available to him, and an app that allows him to track the growth of their unborn children seems like a great resource for just that.
“You can download it from the app store. It’s called What to Expect.”
Roman moves to grab his phone, tapping around, a scowl growing on his face. “Where’s that damn little box?” Solana leans into him, pressing her face into his arm to hide her amusement. “Why does it keep moving and shit?”
The struggle to withhold her laughter is real. “Baby, it’s not moving. They had another iOS update, so the layout changed again.”
“Another one?” She can’t help it. A giggle escapes, as Roman’s scowl deepens. “How many fucking updates are they going to do? I already can’t find shit half the damn time. Now they’re just making it even more difficult. Fucking hate this damn phone.”
Solana moves her hand to the back of his head, massaging the base of his neck, trying to calm him down while also having to push back the desire to fall out in laughter. Roman is easily the most intelligent person she’s ever come across, but his inability to work or understand technology will never not be hilarious.
She 1000% believes that if he wasn’t who he is, he would most definitely do well, and best, with a flip phone.
“Here, babe. Let me do it for you.” Roman has zero issues handing over his phone to his wife who in a matter of minutes has not only downloaded the app, but has set up the account as if it was her profile so he can follow along, just as she’s doing. “There you go. All done.”
“Thank you,” he mutters, and she leans up to kiss his temple. Solana allows him time to play around and explore the app, while she shifts to something different but equally important.
And, it’s when she stumbles across one that she likes, she draws his attention, once again showing him her screen.
Instantly, he’s confused, and he’s not afraid to express as such.
“What is that?”
Solana looks at him, initially thinking he’s joking, which is a strange, impossible thing because her husband doesn’t joke. But, judging by the genuinely confused look on his face, he also really doesn’t know just what he’s looking at.
“It’s a crib, Roman,” she answers, providing additional information when that one word also doesn’t seem to trigger anything for him. “It’s actually a 4 in 1 with a changing table and can also be converted to a crib and a toddler bed as they get older, so we wouldn’t have to buy new—”
“I don’t want them using old shit,” Roman’s interruption, despite the almost rude wording, is more informative than anything. “We’ll buy them new things as they need em’.”
Solana frowns a bit. “But, if we can find something so we don’t have to spend unnecessary money—”
“If it’s for them, it’s not unnecessary, Sol.” She rolls her eyes, as he asks with almost uncertainty. “So a crib….it’s like….a baby bed?”
She nods, her small smile returning. “Yes.” She motions to the screen that shows the pink and one number she finds herself really liking. “The rails on it keep them from falling out or even climbing out when their gross motor skills start to kick in more.”
“When does that start?”
“It depends,” Solana answers. “Every baby is different. They typically learn how to roll over at around 4 months, and their mobility just continues to grow and improve from there.”
Roman nods, clearly taking in all of this new information. “So does that mean they’ll need to sleep in the room with us?” His question is so innocent, borderline naive, that it makes Solana giggle. “Until they learn….how to control their movements and shit.”
She shakes her head, gentle grin on her face matching her patient tone. “No, baby. They don’t need to sleep in the room with us. We’ll just get baby monitors to put up in their nursery.” Sensing he’s still hesitant, she adds, “they have ones with audio and video.”
This seems to settle him a bit when he, in true Roman fashion, picks up on a single word. “They’ll have separate rooms.”
Solana rolls her eyes. “Maybe when they’re older, but as babies, they can share the same nursery, Ro.”
It’d honestly make things easier, too, as Solana plans to breastfeed, and just the logistics of it, changing them, rocking them, and other things, will be significantly easier if they’re feet apart instead of rooms apart.
However, Roman doesn’t seem to be having it.
“I want them to have their own space.”
She sits up a bit, looking at him, borderline shocked. “As babies?” She shakes her head, rubbing her temples. “Roman, they won’t even know what a room is, let alone anything about a space.”
“You don’t know that for certain.”
“Roman—” Solana has to stop herself. Lord knows she loves this man with everything in her, but he’s being impossible right now. Just like she also knows there can be no reasoning with him when he gets like this. “Okay, we—we can revisit this later.” Eager to get onto another similar baby subject, she asks, “how–how is this going to work?”
He looks at her. “What do you mean?”
Realizing her question was far too vague, she doesn’t waste any time clarifying. “I mean with the shopping portion. There’s a lot of things we’re going to need, and I can definitely get a lot of it online, but I’d like to be able to shop in person…and for you to go with me.”
The elaboration is helpful, Roman nodding, clearly understanding the true, unspoken concern in all of that.
In that how do they keep this pregnancy as under wraps as possible while still being able to enjoy it with little things like baby shopping.
“You just have to let me know at least a couple hours in advance if you want to go somewhere and where exactly you want to go, so I can have the stores cleared out.” Solana partially expected as such, given how he’s done the same every time they go grocery shopping together. Same with the empty doctor's office they're currently sitting in, waiting for the start of her three month check up appointment, Bautista and their security team patrolling the premises.
And, she’s not even showing yet.
But, it’s what he says next that she hasn’t really thought about. “And when you start showing, you won’t be able to go out much.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
Roman sighs, clearly trying to word it as best he can. A thoughtfulness always reserved for her. “Realistically speaking, there’s a chance, even if small, this pregnancy will reach the ears of people who don’t need to know. So, that means I have to eliminate their access to you—”
“But, I have security—”
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” A gentle but firm interruption. “My family had security that night, too, and look what still happened.” Solana’s shoulders slump, her heart aching seeing the flash of pain cross his handsome face. “The only way to ensure the safety of you and the babies is to cut off any access to you.”
She's following along, understanding where he’s coming from, but it’s not exactly what she was wanting and expecting to hear. “I….I won’t be able to leave the house?”
Roman pauses. “You will, just….on an as needed basis.”
Solana grows quiet, sitting on Roman’s words. They make sense, given who he is, what them welcoming children into this world will mean for them. Mean for him. Though she can’t deny a part of her is saddened at the fact that she won’t be able to treat this pregnancy like any other expectant mother would.
That she can’t be out shopping, bump displayed freely, without having to worry about who sees it. Dragging Roman from store to store as she tries to find matching outfits for their girls. Having him help her pick out furniture, while they consult with the sales associates for what is best. The normal things.
And Roman sees this, sees the sort of grief she’s experiencing at realizing some of that, maybe none of that, will be possible.
That at some point, she’ll be practically homebound.
“I know….” He trails off, Solana hating the regret that crosses his handsome face. “I know it’s not what you imagined or probably want, and I’m sorry it’s because of me, but—”
She shakes her head, completely shifting gears, unwilling to have him feel anything remotely close to bad. “I wouldn’t want this if I couldn't do it with you.” An easy thing to share, even if it seems to startle her husband. Solana sees the surprise, feels the way he’s almost moved by such a thing. “Ro….” Solana reaches across, taking his hand and settling it on her stomach, her hand atop of his. “There’s no one else I’d want to do this with, but you. If I couldn’t have you as the father of my children, I wouldn’t want children. It’s…..it’s you or nothing, Roman.” She smiles, eyes watering. “And if that means some of the traditional things I don’t get to do or have, then that’s just what it is.”
Because at the end of the day, the most important thing is doing whatever it takes to welcome two healthy babies into this world. Some things might be missed, yes, but she’s certain it’ll all be worth it the moment Lina and Leya arrive.
Leaning up, she kisses his bearded jaw, murmuring, “I love you.”
He repeats it back at the same moment the nurse comes out and calls her name. Solana takes Roman’s hand as they walk to the back, going through the same order of things as her last few appointments. Questions. Urine sample. Bloodwork. It’s all routine at this point, the most exciting part being when Dr. Sharmell walks in. She asks her usual questions, and Solana provides her honest answers.
Sometimes Roman chimes in with a question usually regarding what to expect at this point in her pregnancy, so he knows what to expect. It’s all so attentive and moving, how much he cares and how invested he is.
“Time for your favorite part,” Dr. Sharmell jokes as she moves the transducer over Solana’s stomach, searching only briefly. “Here’s Baby A.” The rhythmic beating is soothing and relieving, a big smile on Solana’s face as she looks over at the screen, immensely settled by the sound of her baby’s heartbeat. “Heartbeat just as strong as last time.”
Roman rubs his thumb over Solana’s knuckles as the doctor travels the transducer around a little bit longer this time around. “Baby B once again giving me a hard time.” She shakes her head, Solana holding in her smile at the thought that crosses her mind. A silly one, in some ways.
Lina.
Lina comes to mind. Glimpses of her spitfire and wild child spirit from her and Roman’s shared dreams, and how making her identification during a routine ultrasound difficult seems just so aligned with her personality.
“There you are,” Dr. Sharmell makes an ‘aha’ sound, the baby’s steady heartbeat once again filling the room. “And there’s Baby B.”
Solana’s eyes water as she stares at the screen, seeing her children, her babies. “They’re getting so big.”
“They are,” the doctor smiles, observing. “I see you’re still not showing yet, but I’d gather it’s only a matter of a few weeks until you’ll see a bump.”
Solana giggles, squeezing Roman’s hand, completely uncaring of what the emergence of a bump might mean for safety measures. Having a baby bump makes this pregnancy just that much more real.
Physical proof of the lives growing inside of her.
“Everything looks good?” Her husband asks, ever the concerned and wanting to stay on top of everything.
Dr. Sharmell nods. “Everything looks great. Babies are growing as expected at the three month mark. Stats look great,” she answers, going to wipe the gel off Solana’s stomach. “In fact, you don’t have to be on pelvic rest anymore.” The announcement takes both husband and wife by surprise, as the OB-GYN continues to explain, “your ultrasound has come back clear during your last three visits with no bleeding since the initial incident. I could have cleared you last week, but I just wanted to make absolute certain.”
Roman and Solana share a look, the former asking, almost skeptically, “are you sure?”
“Positive,” she reassures. She directs her statement to Solana. “You can resume all normal activity. Exercise, regular movement, sexual activity, the usual.” Dr. Sharmell moves to grab her tablet, tapping around and gasping. “Oh my goodness. I almost forgot. So sorry. Your NIPT test results came back, and it was also clear from any signs of chromosomal disorders for the babies.” A small smile grows on her face as she looks between the parents. “And there were no Y chromosomes detected in either fetus, which means—”
“Girls,” Solana finishes, eyes watering all over again. “We’re having twin girls.”
—---------
The sounds of the clips being unloaded is muffled by the earmuffs on her ears, the recoil force something Solana is able to withstand much better than the first time she fired, and it’s an improvement noticed by Afia.
“Nice,” Afia compliments, taking note of the continued improvement in Solana’s aim. She waits for the younger woman to remove her earmuffs before applauding, “you’re a quick learner.”
Solana smiles, appreciative. “Thank you.” She looks back over at the target, seeing holes all around the dummy’s abdomen and shoulder, the areas Afia has taught her to always aim for. “You’re a great teacher.”
Afia grins, dipping her head and winking. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
In the few weeks they’ve trained and hung out together at the shooting range, Solana has learned a lot about the woman who is technically her sister-in-law. Starting with the fact that Afia is actually a retired master assassin, a member of an elite group of female assassins in her home country of Nigeria.
Learned how from a young child, like Roman, Afia was taught one thing and one thing only.
Kill or be killed.
That she was molded and shaped into the nonpareil killer that she is. That she was.
Because the Nigerian woman also shared how she walked away from it all, turned her back on her sisters, was disowned by her “family” the day she decided to choose love instead of violence.
How instead of choosing to kill Matteo, her intended target and assignment, she ended up falling in love with the man. A love that has withstood a tremendous amount of trials and tribulations but has remained strong and resulted in three beautiful children.
Solana admires her in so many ways and truly appreciates all the help and insight she’s provided.
It’s helped her in ways she’s not quite sure how to explain.
Afia looks Solana over, acknowledging, “you’re small and have a kind aura about you, Solana, but make no mistake, there’s definitely one hell of a fighter in there, too.”
Words that Solana takes to heart, that maybe just months ago, she wouldn’t agree with. She wouldn’t agree that anything about or in her comes remotely close to a fighter. But, the truth of the matter is that Solana has always been a fighter. A survivor. Overcome more adversity than anyone could ever realize.
Been burned by the fire but survived nonetheless.
She is fire.
It’s been a long journey, largely aided to and due to her husband, due to Roman doing something as simple as making her learn how to train, how to fight, something she’s learned to love and will miss throughout this pregnancy, but something she still holds with her.
That fight.
“Kinda hard to not at least try to catch up when surrounded by so many strong people,” Solana says with a small smile as the two women to start removing their bulletproof vests, clearly ready for a lunch break.
Afia chuckles softly, soft eyes focused ahead, as Bautista quietly escorts them to the cafeteria. “You’ve always been strong, Solana. It just maybe took you a little longer to realize it. That’s the case with a lot of women who’ve been told what they can and can’t do, who they are, and what they are and are not.” She casts the shorter woman a meaningful gaze, “but the truth is that there is no stronger being on this planet than a woman. Do you know why?” Solana shakes her head as the two women reach the door that Bautista holds open for them. Afia chuckles and steps forward, answering clearly and with zero hesitation. “Because just as easily as we can create life—” Something dark and intentful flashes in her pretty eyes, the lingering remnants of the killer that will always lie within. “We can take it, too.”
At one point in Solana’s life, not even a year ago, such a statement would unnerve her. Maybe even scare her a bit, but there’s something about the transformative journey she’s been on all these months that has her in such a different place.
The fact that she has not only one, but two lives, growing inside of her. Two daughters. All of that has her in such a different place with a different mindset than she had just some months ago when talking with her husband about her fear of how badly she hurt Wesley. Her fear of if she unintentionally would end up killing him.
Of killing in general.
Then, Solana told Roman she didn't think she could live with herself if she ever did such a thing.
Now, she no longer feels the way.
She would prefer to never be in that situation, to never have to make that call, but the truth of the matter is that if she had to, if she had to kill to protect, she would.
For herself.
For Roman.
For her daughters.
Because not only has she made a vow that no man would ever hurt her again, she’s made the same for her girls.
For her family.
She’ll do whatever it takes to protect them, to protect their lives.
Even if it means taking someone else’s.
Afia and Solana continue to engage in discussion about topics regarding life and training when that damn nausea returns, prompting Solana to place down the last bit of her sandwich as she covers her mouth.
Afia is forever perceptive and notices as such, asking, “are you alright?”
Solana nods, mustering up a small smile and trying to play it off. “Yes. The food is just.....probably not agreeing with me.”
It feels like a good answer, a good excuse. And, it is, if not for Afia being who she is.
The other woman chuckles quietly, asking in a low voice that’s not necessarily required given Roman had the entire shooting range cleared just for the two women to train. Something he’s done since their first lesson and will continue to do.
Afia’s gaze is assessing. “How far along are you?”
Solana, to the best of her abilities, tries to hide the complete shock that shoots through her body at Afia’s cavalier question. But, it’s difficult, to say the least. “Wh–what?”
“Solana…..” Afia leans across the table, placing her hand on top of Solana’s. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but we’re technically family, if our stubborn husbands would set aside their pride and talk things out, that is.” Another bombshell as Solana is unsure if Afia is referring to Matteo and Roman as cousins or the half-brothers that they really are. “And, I know this is a rare thing in this world, something that’s almost non-existent, but I promise that you can trust me. You have my word. On my childrens' life.”
Such a strong, powerful statement that Solana doesn't take lightly. That she believes. Because if there’s one thing she’s learned about the woman sitting across from her, it’s that Afia does not play about her family. Especially her children.
She’d never include them in something like that if she didn’t mean it.
It’s why Solana finds herself asking in a quiet voice, “how—how did you know?”
“I’m a mother myself, Solana. I’ve been there before with the morning sickness, the light headedness, the headaches.” Solana continues to sit stunned as Afia lists off some of the symptoms the wife of the Tribal Chief thought she’d hidden well enough when they hit her during her trainings. “The pregnancy glow.”
At that, Solana’s eyes light up. “I–I have that?”
Afia nods with a warm smile. “You do.”
There’s something about that, about that acknowledgement from another woman, another mother, that means the world to Solana.
“I’m—I’m three months,” she finally answers, confirming what Afia clearly already knows. “It’s–it’s twins.”
It’s always been discussed that the pregnancy should be kept private and will continue to be kept as such, but Solana knows that if she talks with Roman, explains how Afia knowing transpired, that he won’t be upset.
The same way she wasn’t upset when he told her how he told Ava and Dwayne about the pregnancy.
Family.
Ava. Dwayne. Afia.
They’re family, and Solana can only count the days until she can share her big news with the rest of her family.
“Twins?” Afia gasps, face filled with awe. “What a blessing.” Curiosity brimming, she inquires, “do you know the genders yet or…..”
“Girls,” Solana answers, hand over her belly, overcome with pride. “They’re both girls.”
“Solana….” Afia’s laughter is light and so joyful. “Congratulations. You are going to be an amazing mother.”
A compliment Solana could never tire of hearing. Reassurance she needs in some ways. “Thank you.” Clearing her throat, she wipes at her eyes, sharing, “it’s….it’s nice to finally be able to have someone to talk to about this, about….being pregnant.”
Afia laughs. More heartily this time. “Well, I am an open book for any questions you may have.” She smirks, leaning back and crossing her arms. “I do have some experience with this, you know.”
And Solana is instantly filled with such happiness, such relief in some ways, because having only her doctor and Roman talk to about her pregnancy is fine, but not enough in some ways. Because her doctor can only help from a medical standpoint, and Roman’s knowledge is obviously limited.
So, Afia, another woman, another mother, being available to offer insight is invaluable.
In more than one way.
“Afia….” Solana is the one to sit forward, gaze focused on the woman opposite her. “You know Matteo and Roman are brothers….don’t you?”
She has to. Her wording basically confirmed as such.
“I do,” she answers. Nothing more.
It’s not needed though.
“Then….then I need your help with something else, too.” Because this family has already been so broken, so shattered, so unhealed. It’s time to change that. Solana is determined to make a better, cohesive, healed future for her girls and this next generation of children.
“I’m listening.”
Solana takes a deep breath, pushing aside any amount of self-doubt. “I want to help Roman and Matteo actually be brothers.” She explains, offering with just as much determination, “our children will be cousins, and I want them to have a relationship. I want them to be close, but I don’t know if that can happen if Matteo and Roman don’t form some kind of relationship.”
Form a brotherhood.
Afia nods, clearly taking in all of the information, Solana a bit unsure if she should have waited. If maybe she came on too strong, that doubt trying to creep its way back in. And then, Afia smiles, simply asking,
“Where should we start?”
—------------
Roman wasn’t expecting to see his wife again until later in the evening. They both had busy days, her with her training with Afia and work, as well as him with work. So, he’s more than surprised when she shows up at his office looking every bit as fine as she is in a sexy, little red piece. It’s far too easy for him to bark for everyone to get the fuck out of his office so that he’s left alone with said wife.
But, as the room is quickly cleared, he can’t help but wonder what brings her to see him. She’s always a sight for sore eyes, but he can’t shake the feeling there’s something behind this surprise visit.
Her smile is bashful, something similar to shyness, a bit of a thing she’ll probably always have around her husband. “Hey.”
“Hey.” His eyes move over her, a mixture of studying and admiring. Her body has always been divine, but the slight changes he’s noticed because of her pregnancy have only elevated her to a delectable category. “You alright?”
She nods. “Yeah, I just….I wanted to see you.”
Roman’s eyes flitter to something curious. “Baby, we just saw each other this morning.”
She shrugs with one shoulder and chews down on her bottom lip. “I know, but….” Solana looks around, focusing mostly on the door, almost expecting someone to walk in. To interrupt. Even though she has a feeling anyone with a brain knows not to interrupt the Tribal Chief when she’s around.
When his wife is present.
“Solana?”
Him calling her name pulls her from wandering thoughts. Solana redirects her focus back to him, trying her best to think on how to word it. In the car, on the way here, it seemed a lot more straightforward, but now standing here in front of him, it’s anything but.
“I…..” Solana breaks away from him, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it in one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. She feels his gaze never leave her as she hops up on his desk, ankles crossed. An intentional gesture. “Do—do you have a meeting soon?”
Curiosity gleams in his warm brown eyes as he walks over to her, a simple two steps with his long legs. “Define soon.” When she doesn’t answer, he skips right to the chase. “Solana, why are you really here?”
It’s not asked rudely, just something conceived from dire intrigue.
Solana leans forward, palming the edge of his desk for support. “You know I was…..I was cleared this morning,” she reminds. An unnecessary thing given Roman was right there next to her at her appointment this morning and heard that same things that she did. “I’m…..I’m not on pelvic rest anymore…..” Her voice slides into something quiet and unsure, similar to the way she’s looking at her husband. A husband whose face is filled with knowing and realization.
“Solana….” A pained, almost rough iteration of her name as he moves closer and lifts her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Why are you here?”
There’s something about how it’s asked, the heaviness and almost need in said question, the way Solana knows that Roman knows exactly why she’s here.
And she tells him just as much.
Just, in her own way.
Solana closes her knees together to force her husband a few steps back, and when he does so, she proceeds to lay back on his desk just enough to give her the room she needs. Sliding her dress up higher, dangerously high, it’s when she slowly spreads her legs once more and Roman’s eyes flint downward that she sees it.
Sees the way his jaw clenches, his eyes gloss over with an undeniable and unmistakable amount of lust.
“Fuck, Sol…..”
Her mouth slips into something similar to a smile. “Exactly.” She leans up just enough to reach for him, to pull her between her open legs that reveal her exposed cunt and the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear. Solana glides her hands up his chest, cupping his face, as she murmurs, “I want you…..”
Roman’s eyes shut, his voice strained. “Here?” He moves his hands to her hips, tugging her forward. “I would have come home….”
“We can do it again when you get home.” It comes out before she even really realizes what she’s saying, a shocking thing that takes them both back. Solana’s cheeks heat up as she clarifies, “if—if you want.”
“You know I always want that with you,” he assures, kissing the corner of her mouth. He looks at her, lust briefly replaced with all the seriousness. “Are you sure?”
It’s a question that doesn’t even require any sort of contemplation. “Yes.”
The ‘s’ has barely left her mouth when Roman smashes his lips over hers with a hunger that’s equally yoked. Solans moves her arms around her neck, pulling him closer, savoring the feel of his full lips on hers, the intimate, intricate dance of yearning and longing. Roman slides his tongue into her mouth, evoking a yawn as she tightens her thighs around his waist.
Roman groans and drops his mouth to her neck, Solana’s lips parting, her hands to the back of his neck as he sucks on her sensitive mouth and moves his hand over her breast, palming them. She moans and arches her back, oh so sensitive to his touch, a combination of it being far too long since they could be together in this way as well as the changes her body has started to undergo due to her pregnancy.
Solana moves her hands up to slide his suit jacket off, something Roman assists her with as he tosses it off in the distance, uncaring of how it falls onto the floor. He moves to kiss her again, Solana smiling into said kiss only to gasp when Roman nudges his hand in between her legs.
“You get so wet for me, baby…..” His tongue darts out and over his bottom lip, watching how the pleasure from just a simple touch has her head lolled back. “Lay back a bit for me, sweetheart.”
Solana doesn’t have to be told twice. Excitement fills her as she follows his request. Roman moves his hands to her hips, tugging her a bit forward on his desk as she rests on her elbows. Looking down at him, Solana watches his eyes gloss over with that returned lust, that hunger that always seems to fill him whenever they’re intimate.
“You have such a pretty pussy….” It’s the way he licks his lips and moves to his knees that has Solana’s nails scraping against the wood of his desk.
And, he hasn’t even touched her yet.
“Keep your legs open for me.” A soft, sultry command that doesn’t need issuance, Solana already adjusting her body and scooting down the desk. But, Roman quickly switches gears, deciding on something different.
“Fuck it.” Is the last thing Solana hears before her husband has his face buried into that sacred, dripping apex of her thighs.
“Roman,” she shouts, immediately biting down on her bottom lip to try to keep herself quiet, a difficult task as Roman sucks on her clit with all the urgency and need in the world. “Oh my…..” Her head falls back, her fingers moving to the top of his head. Solana moans as Roman adjusts her legs, one over each shoulder, heels falling off, her calves squeezing against his back.
His thick warm tongue working that magic over her most sensitive bud has her struggling to remain quiet, to not alert anyone outside of the safe space of his office just what carnal activities are transpiring.
He pulls away, and Solana just about loses it, “I wanna hear you, sweet girl. Stop being so quiet.”
Solana would love to look down at him, meet the dazed, lustful gaze that must fill his eyes, but head thrown back, chest heaving up and down from the sensations of it all make it hard to do so. The same way it’s damn near an arduous task to muster up a verbal reply. “It’s….your office….they’ll—shit—they’ll hear.”
Roman growls lowly and tugs her closer, Solana shooting up off the desk when he thrusts his tongue back inside her. “Ro!”
“Good,” he sounds, face immersed back into her pussy that has his beard soaked, her essence dripping and making a mess all over a $50,000 desk. “Let them.” He’s never been so unbothered. “Let them hear you’re mine.”
Solana whimpers and writhes as he continues to eat her out within an inch of her life, bringing her to kingdom come and back as she comes all over his face and into his mouth, the Tribal Chief lapping up every ounce of it like it’s his last supper. And Solana has truly gone too long without being intimate with her husband, because it’s almost naive on her part for her to think one is enough.
No. Roman has a minimum of two to three. Two to three times he has to make her come with his mouth, some assistance from his fingers but mostly that talented tongue of his. On several occasions, he’s made it clear, in several graphic ways, just how much he enjoys this. Enjoys going down on her, so much so that Solana has learned trying to push him away as she comes down from her orgasm only makes him pull her closer, as he starts his journey to bringing her to heaven all over again.
It’s too much and yet exactly what she’s been wanting. Been needing.
And it’s with that same need, she grabs him by the back of his head and presses their lips together, tasting herself on those same, talented, full lips when he’s finally and fully satiated.
Solana’s hands can’t move fast enough to reach for the belt, but she’s no match for the speed in which Roman has his pants undone and her perched on the edge of the desk, ready and waiting.
And the minute his thick mushroom head pushes into her, Solana grips his shoulders, the wince on her face more than enough to cause him to stop.
“You alright?” His voice drips with concern, Solana able to feel him pull back just enough, prompting her to shake her head.
“I’m fine,” she assures, holding him, pulling him closer. “It’s just….it’s been a while.” Too long. “Please—please don’t stop.” Because that’s absolutely not what she needs. She needs him, and she needs him now.
Roman still looks a bit reluctant, Solana silencing his doubts by pressing her lips against his and maneuvering her hand in between their bodies to reposition him. “Please….”
Roman obliges, Solana’s hand dropping and moving to grip his shirt as he carefully inches himself into her. She bites down on his shoulder, uncaring of the lipstick stain now on his shirt. “Oh my God…..”
It’s a bit of a burning sensation, somewhat painful, something similar to their first time, but it’s expected. Solana expected there to be some difficulty taking all of him again after such a long period of time. Doesn’t make her want him any less though. Want this any less.
He kisses her temple, asking. “You okay?”
A soft smile and sincere answer. “I’m okay.” Because it’ll never not move her with how attentive and caring he always is, even outside of their sex life, but it somehow seems more prominent in this aspect of their relationship.
Solana can absolutely tell and feel when he’s completely inside of her, an overwhelming sensation that’s been missed even more than she realized. She squeezes his shoulders, whining almost, “move….”
Again, always wanting to assess her comfort, Roman looks down at her, studying her face. Needing that reassurance, and the minute he receives it, Solana is already gasping, feeling him pull out just enough to slide back into her, the tip of his long, thick dick pressing that spot inside of her.
“Yes,” she moans, the pleasure easily and quickly overpowering any amount of discomfort. “Ro….”
His thrusts intensify by the seconds that pass, the slick feeling of her pussy, hugging and tugging his dick with all the need. “Like that, baby?”
“Yes.” She cries, overwhelmed in the best sort of way. “Just—just like that, oh—”
Solana moans when Roman moves his hand under her ass, lifting her up just enough to switch and change up the angle. God, he feels so good.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” Roman’s voice is heavy and deep with need, his mouth traveling the perimeter of his face. “Missed being inside this pussy.”
Solana feels numb, feels so many, too many things to say anything. Can only continue to lock her ankles above Roman’s ass as he fucks into her, his hips thrusting against and into her, driving her delirious in some ways.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Sol.” Roman tips her forward once more, eager and needing to dig into her, to continue to feel her come undone around him. “Good ass pussy gripping my shit like this.”
“You’re so deep.” It’s impossible how much he fills her, the fullness that consumes her, the pleasure that he brings her. “Mmm feels amazing, papi.”
“Fuck, Sol,” Roman curses, squeezing her ass, pumping into her harder, deeper. “If you weren’t already pregnant….”
Solana smiles as he buries his face into her neck, his mouth ghosting over the collarbone of her fully healed tattoo. The tattoo for him. A reminder of her love and devotion to him.
It’s that devotion that fills her and drives her to make him look at her, her hands cupping his face, “mine.”
His eyes shut, his forehead pressed against hers, vowing, “yours.” She clenches around him, both nearly coming in that same moment. “Always yours.”
Solana gasps, intakes sharply as he claims her mouth in a kiss that’s broken by her moan, loud and heavy. “I love you,” she whimpers, nails digging into his clothed shoulders. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, baby,” he murmurs, never once stopping his delicious thrusts, his determination to bring her over the edge, to take her to that wonderful place only he knows the way to is unwavering. And with each thrust, with each reminder of his love and devotion for her, Solana’s caring for who, if anyone, overhears dwindles.
She doesn’t care.
This is her husband.
The father of her children.
The Tribal Chief, and she, his wife.
His a faletua.
The Wife of The Tribal Chief.
She can do whatever she damn well pleases.
And she does, as she comes, still uncaring of anyone hearing her moans, of how vocal she is at how good her husband makes her feel. The way she savors in the way he once again buries himself into her neck, groping her big breast as he too reaches his climax, emptying his seed all into her. Solana clutches her legs around him, wanting all of it. Everything he has, she wants.
In all the ways.
She holds onto him, enjoying the feel of his big, strong body leaning, resting into hers. She kisses his temple, again reaffirming her love for him.
And after a few minutes of silence, he speaks, voice low with lingering need. “You need to come visit me every day.”
She giggles, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “I just might.” He’s still buried inside of her, growing soft, but she swears she feels his dick jerk at her reply. “My….drive has been…..high.”
Because, it has. Because while Solana has completely understood the need for pelvic rest and would do so for the rest of her pregnancy to keep her babies safe and healthy if necessary, the lifting of said restriction is something she’s also very much looked forward to the past few weeks. Especially as her sex drive has spiked ten levels. Another pregnancy symptom.
One she’s elated to no longer have to suppress.
The implication with her pronunciation of the word drive makes Roman look up, his gaze filled with desire and baseline level of excitement. “I can take care of that.”
She smiles, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips, whispering, “yeah?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, closing the gap between them, leaning over her body, laying her back on the desk. Solana giggles against his mouth, already feeling—in more ways than one—where this is headed.
Would be headed.
“....I keep trying to tell you, Roman don’t care if I go—OH MY GOD!”
Solanna’s scream of horror is just about what and what with Jimmy’s as he quickly scrambles to shut the door. Solana tries to hide her face into her husband’s chest, her husband who barks at his cousin to “get the fuck out!”
Embarrassment fills her as the two of them move to separate, Roman looking every bit as irritated—or enraged—as he feels. Solana’s hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with continued horror, the sound of Jimmy outside the door a soundtrack to this quite unexpected scene.
“Alicia! Get the bleach! And the Lysol! And the CDC! I need one of them yellow suits they had in Monster’s Inc!
—----------
Roman was in a decent mood after starting the day off with Solana’s OB-GYN appointment and was in an even better mood when his wife surprised him with a visit. A visit that resulted in them being intimate intimate again after far too long. But, that better mood was immediately squashed the moment his dumbass cousin interrupted them, the same cousin who sits at the same conference table as himself, Dwayne, Matteo, and the Wise Man, still going on and on about what happened a good two hours ago.
“Don’t make no damn sense,” Jimmy scowls, randomly spraying Lysol around him, setting the personal sized can on the table. “Ya’ll couldn’t go somewhere else?”
Roman’s expression is every bit as bored as his tone. “It’s my office, Jimmy.” He lifts his eyes, voice even as he reminds. “I’ll fuck my wife all over that space if I want to.”
It’s then that Matteo gives a look of understanding. “Is that what you’re so upset about?” He asks Jimmy, scoffing and sharing. “I’ve done the same with my wife plenty of times in my office. It’s normal.”
“And, I don’t have a wife, but Lord knows I’ve done some things in my office as well.” Dwayne smirks, leaning back into his chair.
Jimmy makes a face, mocking the two men. “This ain’t about ya’ll!” He dismisses them, pointing to himself. “This is about me. I am a victim!”
Matteo looks toward his brother and asks in Italian. “Is he always like this?”
Roman rolls his shoulders, answering in the same language. “Unfortunately.”
“I mean, that’s why they make bedrooms. Ya’ll could have done that shit at ya’ll damn house,” Jimmy continues to object, shaking his head, nose turned up. “It was like walking in on my little sister or something.”
Roman rolls his eyes, suddenly curious. “You really think we’ve only had sex in our bedroom at our house?”
At one point, the answer was yes. When they first started being intimate, Solana still growing into her comfortability with sex, yes. It was limited to the bedroom, as that was her comfort level. But now? Especially in the days and weeks following her return from treatment? Roman has easily made his wife come on every available space in that damn house.
A realization that has Jimmy just about ready to throw up. “You mean I been contaminated?” His eyes are wide and filled with horror as he lifts the can of Lysol, spraying much more than necessary, evoking a fit of heavy, violent coughs from the asthmatic Wise Man. “I’m suing!”
Dwayne and Matteo share a chuckle at the ever dramatic Jimmy, while Roman decides it’s time to switch gears.
It’s time to get to business.
He sits forward, asking in an unmistakably irritated voice. “Where are your brothers and dad, Jimmy?”
It’s a shift in tone and energy that makes all the men sit up straight, even Jimmy, who answers, “I don’t know, man. They knew to be here.”
“But, they’re not,” Roman finishes. He glances at the expensive watch on his wrist, frustration growing exponentially seeing they’re almost 15 minutes late.
Unacceptable.
“Wise Man.”
Paul stands up almost immediately. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”
“Call—” Roman’s directive is interrupted by the arrival of the missing parties themselves. In walks in Rikishi, followed by his sons, Solo and Jey.
All wear unreadable expressions with the exception of Jey who looks annoyed, and that only pisses Roman off more.
To show up late to a meeting called by the Tribal Chief is one thing. To show up late and deepen that disrespect by looking irritated is a whole other level of contempt.
Roman rolls his shoulders and tries to settle himself by focusing on the objective of said meeting.
Even if that same objective is most likely going to exacerbate an already tense situation.
Once everyone is settled, Wise Man naturally steps into the role of mediator.
“Gentlemen, thank you for your attendance today,” he starts out, Roman partially listening, mostly focused on how Jey is focused on the wall of windows across the room rather than the discussion that’s about to change everything. Like, he doesn't care.
It’s infuriating.
“Your Tribal Chief has called this meeting today for a very important reason given the….less than unfortunate events that have transpired over the past few weeks and months.” Unfortunate is one way to put it. “Now, please understand, your Tribal Chief has thought long and hard on how to proceed and respond to these events in a way that is fair and just, but still—”
“You’re all out.”
Roman’s interruption is short, blunt, and concise. A simple sentence with a hefty weight behind it.
Rikishi is the first to respond. He sits forward, removing his glasses. “Excuse me?”
Solo and Jey exchange confused expressions.
“You’re all hereby removed from my cabinet and relieved of any current, higher up Bloodline duties,” Roman continues his explanation, also sitting forward, studying the non-verbals of each man. “Solo, you’re also removed from Solana’s security detail. You and Jey will be joining the trainers and training new recruits. Rikishi, your primary task will be whatever the Elders assign you with. Just know it won’t be coming from me.”
“Is this a joke?” It’s the first thing to come out of Jey’s mouth as he looks over at Jimmy who’s also just as confused. An expected thing given this was a decision made between Roman, Dwayne, and even Matteo, given how closely connected he’s come to Bloodline business. Especially as he was privy to Jey’s latest and last outburst. “You gotta be fucking with me?”
Roman’s voice is even and challenging. “Do I look like I’m joking?” A rhetorical question to a stupid ass question.
“Roman, this is madness,” Rikishi objects, his voice also even as he looks between his two fellow ousted sons. “How can you—”
“You all have disrespected me, disrespected my reign, my leadership in one way or another.” He’s tempted to add in ‘my wife’, but ultimately goes against it, already knowing they’ll try to say this is personal. Even if, in some ways, it is. “I don’t stand for that shit from anyone.” Not even family. “I’ve killed for less.”
And, they all know this.
“Fucking training?” Jey sneers, slamming his fist on the table. “You demoting me to a goddamn trainer?”
Roman growls, reminding, “you’re lucky demoting you is all I’m doing.” The Tribal Chief doesn’t hesitate to remind his hot headed cousin of the straw that broke the camel’s back. “That shit you pulled at the party was fucking unacceptable, Jey. Acting a fucking fool on neutral territory in the presence of Escobar and his men? You should have fucking known better.”
Jey responds by jumping up out of his seat, chair falling back onto the floor. “This some bullshit, Roman, and you know it!”
Jimmy also stands up, moving over to try to calm down his brother as Dwayne breaks his silence. “Your temper makes you a liability, Jey. We can’t have that.”
“You either learn to control it, or it’ll control you,” Matteo advises, studying the way Solo remains surprisingly calm in the face of upsetting news. It’s….interesting, to say the least.
Jey growls, “man, you stay the fuck out of this! You ain’t even fucking family!”
“That’s enough, Jey,” Jimmy tries to advise, even though Jey is clearly past the point of conversing. “Roman, this ain’t…..this ain’t a forever thing, right?”
Roman feels all eyes on him as he answers without hesitation. “We’ll see.”
It’s only then Solo gives some indication of his true feelings. Rage. Slowly, he stands, and as he does so, Matteo sits forward, as if ready and waiting. But, Rikishi places a hand on his son’s shoulder. The two share a look before the Elder responds, “is this really what you want to do, Uce?”
No. Truth be told, it’s not really what Roman wants to do, because while he’s always butted heads with Jey at various points over the years, like he’d told Solana that one time, he knows—or knew—the twins always had/have his back. And vice versa. Knew they’d die for him the same way he’d die for them.
But, things have changed. Feelings have changed. Whatever lied dormant all these years has resurfaced, and Roman has no idea if, and when, it’ll settle.
And what he ultimately wants to avoid is the other alternative. The one that he and Jey utilized years prior.
Tribal Combat.
Something Roman was victorious in at that time, but not something he wants to have for a second round. Because the stakes are higher this round, much higher. Because while Roman was simply allowed to defeat his cousin and call it resolved the first time. The second time, he won’t be as lucky.
This time, with everything that’s happened, Jey’s public display of disrespect, Roman can’t just defeat Jey in combat.
He’d have to kill him.
It would be to the death.
And while Roman isn’t sure he could ever admit this aloud to anyone, not even Solana, it doesn’t negate the fact that deep down, he’s not sure if he could do it.
He doesn't know if he could kill Jey, and not because of lack of ability but lack of want.
He doesn’t want to kill Jey.
So, that’s why this route is the route he must take, and it’s why he answers calmly, “yes.”
And, it’s with that, his decision is made. Final and without appeal options. Roman motions for the Wise Man to see the now three disgraced men out of his office, his flushed face advisor moving to point and usher the four men out.
Jimmy leaves with his brothers and father.
It’s only when he’s alone with his cousin and half brother, Roman sees Dwayne nod, advising, “you made the right decision, brotha’.”
“You made the only decision,” Matteo agrees.
Roman looks away, silent and questioning.
Because while the satisfaction of knowing one problem has been handled should settle the Tribal Chief, the nagging feeling that another entirely different one has just been created is something he can’t push away.
—-----------
It’s a battle of senses. Roman’s sense of smell fights with his auditory system as he steps foot into the home. He smells the delicious aroma of whatever his beautiful wife has prepared for them this evening, and he also hears the music that’s playing through the speaker system throughout the home.
A small smile falls on his face as he walks gingerly toward the room where the music seems the loudest and the scent of dinner—and more—lures him.
Roman proceeds gingerly when he’s in the vicinity of seeing her, but her not seeing him. The smile is conjoined with a warm feeling that only she evokes as he realizes not only is she singing along—he loves to hear her sing—but she’s playfully dancing around the kitchen as well.
Roman maintains his safe distance to secure his ability to observe. To see the big smile on her beautiful face as she moves around the kitchen, one of those god-awful shirts Jimmy has made for him every Christmas on her frame that Solana stumbled across and has commandeered for herself ever since. And with her is Dulce, tail wagging, jumping up on her hind legs every so often as she “dances” with her mom.
But, it’s the way she occasionally brings her hand to her stomach, lovingly, protectively, that moves Roman the most. The way her eyes briefly close, clearly taking in this moment of pure bliss and long-deserved happiness.
A similar feeling for him as well.
This. This is what he needs. Her. Her light. Her love. The balm she is for him on even his hardest days, and today is definitely up there on the list of difficult times.
You got a fast car
Is it fast enough so we could fly away?
Still gotta make a decision
Leave tonight, or live and die this way
A brief thought crosses Roman’s mind, an idea that prompts him to step away and head for his office. Hitting the light, he moves over to the bookcase set where his Canon sits. Years of experience allows him to switch the lenses and adjust the settings in a matter of minutes, allowing him to return without alerting his wife of his presence.
He starts with photos, snapping and capturing this moment in still shots. But then, the desire to bottle all of it—audio and video included, fills him, prompting him to switch to the record option. Roman watches her through the viewfinder, admiration abundant.
So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk
City lights laid out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder
And I, I had a feeling that I belonged
I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone
Solana spins around and laughs at the sight of Dulce also spinning around, but it’s also in that moment she becomes aware of the fact that she’s not alone.
Solana shouts in a mixture of surprise and fear, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Roman!” It’s the initial shock of seeing he’s present followed by the awareness that he’s also recording. “No. Ro, I look terrible!” She tries to hide her face, prompting him to remind her of what he’ll gladly spend the rest of his life doing.
“You look beautiful.” His compliment grants him her dropping her hands just enough to give away the fact that she’s hiding a smile. “You always do.”
Solana doesn’t say anything, just nervously darts her eyes up and down, asking, “how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” Roman stops the video and lowers the camera to walk over to her. Solana leans up and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him, as he murmurs, "missed you today.”
Because, he has. Any moment not spent with her and instead spent dealing with bullshit just intensifies that ache and borderline empty feeling he has whenever she’s not around.
Her smile is wry and playful. “You just saw me this afternoon.”
Roman absolutely picks up on the fact that she’s teasing him from his response to seeing her this afternoon, prompting him to remind her, “I did more than just see you, baby.”
“Roman!” She squeals when his hand drops to her bountiful ass, giving a squeeze. “Stop it.”
He’ll do no such thing, but he will allow her to bring him over to the stove. One hand holding his, Solana uses the other to stir around whatever is in the pot. She then grabs another smaller spoon, scooping up some and lifting it to his mouth. “Try this.”
He does so, easily. It only takes a second for the taste to set in. “It’s delicious,” he compliments. “But, everything you make is good as fuck, Sol. You know this.”
Her cheeks redden, as she explains, “it’s a new recipe I was trying. Got it from Afia. It’s Nigerian. Something called Gizdodo,” she says the name with uncertainty, sheepishly admitting, “I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”
“Solana, I love everything you make.” He loves everything about her, including and especially her excellent culinary skills. “Except that damn soup.”
Solana rolls her eyes, taking the spoon to toss it in the sink. “Roman, don’t start with that.”
“It’s not that it’s not good,” he defends. “It’s good as hell. There’s just nothing to it, and I’m hungry an hour later.”
Solana rolls her eyes and moves over to him, hands on his chest. “Ro, you’re hungry an hour later even when I don’t fix you soup.”
“Yeah, but I’m hungrier when it’s soup.”
Shaking her head, she goes to take the camera from him, pointing out of the kitchen. “Go change, so we can eat. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Roman answers by kissing her temple and lightly slapping her ass, prompting her to giggle as she playfully pushes him away. Dulce barks from the floor, clearly wanting his attention as well. Chuckling, he kneels down and pets her. “Hey girl,” he gives her a brief belly rub before sending her to resume her stalking of Solana by the stove.
15 minutes later, he’s out of his work clothes, dressed in sweats and a short sleeved shirt, finding his wife still by the stove. He realizes she has the same song as before playing clearly on repeat.
Roman moves behind her, arms around her waist as she leans back into him, explaining softly, “my mother loved this song.” A quiet admission as he kisses her temple in a comforting gesture. “She—she used to play the original all the time while she cooked, and I used to dance with her, and in those moments, everything was fine. It was just….just me and her, and we were happy…..I was happy.”
Roman doesn’t say anything, just allows her to speak and share freely. He knows she's been working with Gail on processing her confusing feelings towards her mom and would never do anything to make her feel invalidated. Hate. Grief. Love.
It's all valid.
Her eyes shut, and she sighs heavily. “We’re not going to be like them, Ro.” Solana turns her head to look up at him. “We’re not going to be like our parents.”
It’s one of the easiest things he could agree to, and some of it, he can’t deny, is due to the conversations he’s had with Lita about the very same thing. “No. We’re not.”
She smiles, but it’s small, weighed down with memories of the past. He can relate entirely. “They’re gonna have a childhood.” She turns around again, so her head remains tilted back into his strong chest. Roman’s hand snakes down to her belly, protective placement. “A happy one…”
He’s in agreement. 1000%, but there’s something about her sentiment, a combination of all the conversations they’ve had the past few weeks that has him sharing something he’s gone from briefly contemplating to seriously considering.
“Sol….” She looks back up at him, expression expectant. Roman lifts his hand to her cheek, index and thumb gently tipping her chin. “Let’s move.”
Naturally, she’s confused, her smile almost reluctant. “W…what?”
“Not out of state,” he clarifies. Though, if possible, he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to that either. Away from all these damn people. “A new house.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “A new house?”
The shock in her voice makes him chuckle. He nods. “Yes, baby. A new house.” The hand on her stomach moves around in a small circle. “Let’s build something. You tell me what you want in it, and I’ll have it made.” Solana continues to look astounded, Roman adding in a small voice. “A nice backyard for them….”
Solana turns around, forcing his hands down and to her hips. “You’re….you’re serious?”
“Yeah,” he answers. Roman lifts his hand to the small of her back, further explaining as he looks around. “This place is mine, and it’s been mine for years. It’s yours too, but it’s got more me than you, and I want it to be us.” He moves to cup her face, asking gently, “does that make sense?”
Because this house has been solely Roman's for so long, holds so many memories and experiences that no longer represent the future he wants. This was his bachelor home.
And, that's not what he wants anymore.
He wants a family home.
He wants to give his wife the home she wants and his daughters the kind of home that they deserve.
“It does.” Solana slides her hands up his chest, locking them behind his neck, her lips curving into a wide smile. “We can really build our own house?”
He chuckles. “We can do anything you want, Solana.”
She giggles, scoffing in disbelief. “Then….” She bounces a little against him, a clear sign of excitement. “Then let’s build a house.” Roman smiles as she moves to hug him, gasping and asking, “wait, I can design my own kitchen?”
“I’m certainly not going to do it,” he answers, chuckling when she slaps his arm. He watches how delight fills her eyes.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she muses, sharing with continued elation. “I can have a kosher kitchen!”
“I have no idea what that means, but sure.”
Solana rolls her eyes and hugs him again, murmuring into his chest, “thank you.” And before he can remind her once again that she never has to thank him for anything he does for her, she peers up at him with those mischievous eyes. “Gotta start preparing for our six kids, huh?”
She’s quick to move away, giggling and opening cabinets to pull out plates. “Don’t start with that shit again, Solana.” Her laughter continues, a stark contrast to the serious expression on his face. He’s almost certain that one sentence alone has spiked his blood pressure. But, it pales in comparison to what his numbers must be when he catches onto something. “Did you just say six?”
—---------
His breathing is heavy, her fingers gliding up and across the sheen of sweat across his back. Roman continues to pulse inside of her, coming down from yet another shattering orgasm, every drop of his cum depleted inside of her addictive pussy.
Solana kisses his temple, evoking a contented sigh. Carefully, Roman lowers one of her legs from off his shoulder and removes himself from her, plopping down on the bed beside her. Seconds later, she’s moving on top of him, laying against him.
“Ya know…..” Solana pants, clearly trying to catch her breath. “For someone who claims he doesn’t want a lot of kids, you sure do love doing the thing with me that can give us all those kids.”
He scoffs, explaining, “you’re already pregnant. I don’t need to be careful.”
Curious, Solana inquires, “and when I’m not pregnant anymore?”
Roman shrugs, continuing to glide his fingers up and down her arm. “Then, we’ll be careful.”
A scowl falls on her face, Solana unwilling to hide her displeasure or her stance. “I’m not getting on birth control. I don’t want to.” And she knows he won’t make her either. Will respect that decision and her. “So we start using protection–
Roman is immediately shutting that shit down. “I’m not using condoms.”
Solana smiles knowingly, burying her face into his chest.
No condoms.
No birth control.
She’s certain she’ll end up pregnant again in a matter of months after the twins are born.
Roman will just have to deal with the “consequences” of them being so sexually active without any barriers to protect them from pregnancy.
He’ll be fine.
She snuggles even closer to him, dwelling in the comfort that always comes with being pressed against his body. He always makes her feel so safe when they’re cuddled together, but there’s something about this time that deters that. A feeling that nudges at her, prevents her from doing so, from getting comfortable, because it feels so obvious.
It’s why she sits up and looks down at her husband, asking, “what’s wrong?”
Solana is expecting him to deflect. She knows he’s been trying hard, working hard in therapy, to be more open with her, but it’s still a struggle. So, it partially surprises her when he answers, “I need to talk to you about something.”
And right away, she knows she’s not going to like whatever he’s about to share. “O—okay.”
Roman’s hesitation is visible and palpable. “I know….I know you want this pregnancy to be as normal as possible, and I want that too. I want to be able to give you that—”
“And you can,” she cuts in, anxiety rising with the way her chest is starting to feel a little tight. She thought they already discussed this. “You have.”
His eyes briefly dart to the side of the room. “Years ago, when there was….a protocol when the wife of the Tribal Chief was pregnant. She....she would spend the pregnancy….away.”
Yeah…..Solana knew she wasn’t going to like this conversation.
At all.
She sits up completely. “Roman, what are you saying?” His silence is damning. “Are—are you sending me away?”
“No.” A relieving answer preceded by a stressful follow-up. “Not…not unless I have t—Solana.” He stops mid-explanation as she kicks the sheets off and moves to get out of the bed. “Sol—”
“No,” she cuts him off, voice icy and slicing. Solana looks over at him, face filled with confusion and distress. “I can’t—I can’t believe you would even suggest that.”
Roman also sits up, running his hand over his face. He knew this wouldn’t be something she would enjoy hearing, but it’s something she needs to hear regardless. “Baby—”
He tries to reach for her, only for Solana to jerk away from him as she rises out of the bed. He ultimately decides to let her leave, closing his eyes when she slams the door to the bathroom.
“Fuck….”
Again, it’s not that he expected Solana to be thrilled about this, especially as they’d discussed just this morning just how excited she was about all of this. About experiencing this pregnancy with him, and he can’t deny that those confused feelings he was experiencing about said pregnancy at the beginning have started to gradually shift to something likened with excitement.
That there was a sense of joy that filled him hearing confirmation that Solana is in fact pregnant with twin girls. Just like their dreams.
Dreams that have slowly been becoming a reality, but there’s also a darkness to his reality. One that places Solana in a tremendous amount of danger once news of her pregnancy starts to reach the wrong ears.
And while there is some hint of decreasing that danger by “leaking” the fact that she’s carrying girls and not a boy, so not an heir, that’s something Roman could never be okay with. Nor does it take away the danger of her pregnancy being “public,” because her pregnancy, no matter how they could try to spin it, just puts an even bigger target on her head.
And, it’s that target that he finds him struggling with. It’s been there since the day she became his wife, but the fact that it’s even bigger, or will be, is unsettling to him. It’s why he’s found himself thinking of ways to minimize that risk, and the biggest, possibly best way, would be to have Solana spend the rest of the pregnancy in hiding of sorts.
He’d maybe even consider letting her go to Mexico. Let her be around with family. But clearly, she’s not okay with any of that.
At all.
And, it’s not as if he’s thrilled about it either, because while he’s still working through feelings about being a dad, there’s a small part of him that feels a sense of grief at possibly not being able to experience that with her. Her first pregnancy. Their first pregnancy.
But, that grief is largely outweighed by his desire to protect her. Protect them.
He’ll do anything to keep his family safe.
Anything.
The sound of the shower running alerts Roman to the fact that Solana won’t be coming back to bed anytime soon, which is why he finds himself kicking the covers back, finding and sliding on his boxers and stepping over to the bathroom.
He’s not surprised to find the knob unlocked, already knowing she just wanted space in the moment, not to not be around him at all.
It’s why he quietly closes the door behind him and walks over to the shower, seeing the backside silhouette of her nude frame standing under the running water. Roman removes his boxers and is careful, meticulous in the way he opens the shower door to join her without actually disturbing her.
Naturally, he moves to stand beside her, his arms around her, gently turning her around to face him.
“Shit.” Roman knew he upset her, expected as such. He just didn’t know how much he upset her, because the water droplets swimming down her face, trickling from her bangs can’t hide the fact that she’s clearly crying.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he’s immediately apologizing, kissing her forehead, eyes shutting. “Please don’t cry.” Because she’s the only person on this earth that he actually cares about upsetting. It’s the last thing he ever wants to do.
The sound of her sniffling is a punch to his gut, but not as painful as what fills him hearing her soft, quiet, desperate response. “Please don’t send me away.” He looks down, meeting her teary, scared eyes. She shakes her head. “I can’t—I can’t do this without you.”
Sentiments she’s expressed before, especially after her nightmare a few weeks back, but something she obviously feels the need to reiterate.
“I’ll—I’ll do whatever you want me to do, but—but not that.” She swallows, her voice shifting into something more determined, fierce almost. “I am with you. Always. No matter what.” She moves her hands up to his face, whispering, “to the end, Ro.” Head tilted, lips pressed together, she asks in a quiet voice. “Okay?”
Roman nods. He won’t risk further upsetting her. She can’t afford it. Not…not in her condition.
He leans down to kiss her before reaching for the wash cloth laid across the shelf and motioning for her to turn around so he can wash her. An act of love and affection that she reciprocates for him before they both find their way back to bed, Solana sleeping peacefully atop him.
But, it’s short lived sleep for Roman who eventually escapes the sanctuary of their bed and trades it for the seat outside on their balcony.
Something....something is off.
He can't put his hand on on it, but he feels it. The situation with Jey, Rikishi, and Solo could be it, probably is a large part of it, why Roman can't shake this uneasy feeling.
It could be Cosa Nostra related, because things have been quiet on that end. Perhaps too quiet. But, Dwayne and Matteo continue to reiterate that the few men they trust back in Italy continue to keep them in the loop, and nothing has raised alarm.
Matteo has even been ever transparent regarding the reports he sends back to the Administration regarding Roman's activity. All truthful. Nothing damning.
But, all of that is what makes it so difficult for the Tribal Chief, because a tangible issue is a solvable issue. An invisible one is nothing but a possibility that may be nothing.
Or may be something.
And Roman knows he would have to have something to justify sending Solana away. She would need a clear answer, an explanation as to why he's doing the very thing she begged him not to do. And telling her it's because he has a hunch that something is off simply won't cut it.
Roman sits there for a good half hour, thinking, overthinking, and something beyond that even. He goes over it all, from the moment he first met his wife to the moment just a few hours ago where he agreed to her request. He evaluates it all, not from Roman, the man in love with his wife, but from The Tribal Chief, the protector.
The warrior and fighter who recognizes the one and ultimate goal in this situation.
Protection.
Because he lost his family once before.
He won’t lose them again.
Eventually, Roman walks back into the room. He moves over to the side of the bed where Solana is on her side, sleeping peacefully, completely oblivious to the decision her husband has come to.
He crouches down beside her, watching her, studying her face before his attention drifts downward. To her stomach.
Wordlessly, he reaches a hand to place it atop the thin sheet, settling it atop her belly, those damn feelings intensifying all over again.
“I don’t know a lot about any of this.” Something he’s gradually coming to grips with with every day that passes where he learns something new about the two tiny human beings growing inside of his wife. Roma’s eyes fill with something that can only be likened to dedication. “But….one thing I do know how to do is how to keep you safe.” His voice is low, whispered, drenched with vulnerability that would never leave the sanctuary of this space. “And, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and her safe.” His eyes fill with a sense of dread, regret, and immense determination. “Even if she ends up hating me for it.”
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u and jude being in the same friend group and ur all together on a trip, though jude has been in love with you since day one and on the first night there u two sleep together, leaving u confused and wishing for more knowing things couldn’t be the same after the special night <3
no one knows - jude bellingham x reader.
quick sum: request above!
wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: hii!! ik i said this would be posted sooner but i got sidetracked (what’s new… also don't hate me i didn't proof read...) ANYWAYS... this does contain small bit of smut so minors dni! like always hope you enjoy 🤍
the soft waves of the hammock you laid on rocked slowly as you stared out into the almost night sky. the different shades of orange now purple and blue, tiny star appearing in the distance, waves hitting the shore making the whole atmosphere just at peace. it was a king day of travel, having missed your first flight due to a delay on the train.
you had arrived last, but it didn’t matter because you were finally with your friends, wanting to make most of the trip you had planned. you changed into a knitted crème color swimsuit, loving how it fit and hugged your figure, accentuating your curves and pushing up your cleavage just right.
everyone inside was asleep, but you couldn’t go to sleep without wanting to watch the night fall. you loved the beach, the smell, the feel of sand, how your hair went to its natural state, and the feeling of freedom. you quickly got distracted by the click of the door opening, footsteps approaching where you were.
“hi,” you squeak as you see jude lean against the palm tree pole, shirtless and wearing similar shorts as your bathing suit. “you okay? you were the last to arrive and your here alone,” jude asked softly not being able to hold back the gulp at how dreamingly your body looked under this ray and light.
“i’m okay… just can’t sleep for some reason,” you stifle a small laugh, “plus i haven’t seen a view like this in so long, i just wanted too see it, i mean take a look.” jude obliged, looking around in a daze at how the night sky looked now. “yeah you’re right… i feel at ease,” jude nodded.
“how come you’re still up? is everything okay with you?” you sat up, propping your elbow and the back of your hand resting on your temple, your full attention on jude. you couldn’t deny but feel a tad bit confused he was here. jude never really spoke to you an when he did it was short and simple. so you wouldn’t be surprised if he made small talk and left.
“jet leg i guess? you’d think after all the constant travel i’d be used to it but it’s always difficult to fall asleep after a long flight for me,” jude explained taking a seat on the wood chair that was by the balcony. you hummed in response, your hand dragging up from your thigh to your hip letting it rest.
you sensed he wanted to tell you more, his fingers tapping against his massive and toned thighs, his eyes adverting from you to the sea. jude wasn’t shy, quite the opposite, and he knew in this moment it was now or never. “do i make you nervous?” you ask slyly, standing and walking over to him. you hated feeling awkward and left out around him, and you needed to know the reason behind it.
jude was a complete different person in his games, in public, around your friends, yet, he treats you so differently which threw you off the edge. jude roamed your eyes from your tanned shiny legs, your curved torso and bust, his heart stammering against his chest as you looked so willingly and utterly beautiful. “or do you just hate me?”
“hate you? why would i hate you?”
“don’t know… you tell me. it’s like this every time we’re around each other. the tension? you can’t even look into my face? you barely speak a word to me? if i’ve done something to offend you, let me know so i can apologize,” you spoke dearly, following his exact movements by roaming your eyes on his figure. legs spread out begging to be touch, abs defined, with veins adorning his arms. jude was fucked, all he could think about was you in this damn bathing suit and the silly theory you made in your head.
hate you? that’s impossible.
“what if i told you it was the opposite? what if i told you i’m infatuated by you?” jude looked up, standing and over towering you, your gaze shifted from confident to shy. your eyes lowering as jude looked down at you. “that when i’m around you all i can think about is you. how you look, smile, talk and walk, smell… it’s so infuriating to be this madly in love with you and not being able to do a thing about it…” jude confessed, drawing the air out of your lungs, like the wind that breezed the night sea.
“i feel like you’re lying to me…” you couldn’t help but say. a hesitance of insecurity, and that’s there’s absolutely no way this man was in love or was confessing any sort of feelings when actions proved otherwise. “why would i lie to you hm? i’m being completely truthful here y/n,” god the way he said your name had you trembling your knees. “you can’t be jude. we’re so different-”
“that’s what you think, and it’s all in your head. tell me this second you don’t feel it? the magnitude sensation for me to approach you? i can see it in your pretty face darling. now it’s you who can’t even look at me? or yet talk,” jude inches closer to you, seeing your chest rapidly raise up and down.
“you’re everything to me… i’ve had to resist myself because i have no idea if you feel the same way. i’d rather love you from a distance than be embarrassed and you not liking me back…” jude traced with his fingertips along your forearm. “don’t you see it? everything i’ve done it’s because of you… i wouldn’t be here if you weren’t y/n. i just want you…” his pleading and vulnerability in his voice had you gulping a response.
“let me show it to you hm? how you make me feel… how you deserved to be treated,” you nodded feeling the heat rise in you. the familiar desire to be wanted, appreciated, touched by a man like jude. “please jude…” you said in a small whimper, looking up where jude had a hungry gazed, lips slightly open. “show me-”
you remembered how cool the wall was when he hit your back against it, kissing you deeply, so messy and hot. how his hands traveled from your side and around your spine, gripping your ass as he ran his tongue down from your jaw and pulse point. you could feel everything, how big jude was, how hot his skin was to your touch, how desperate the need was.
he had dragged you to his room, his lips never leaving yours any second. it was so vivid in your head, how your back pressed against his chest, how his fingers slowly traced your abdomen down to inside your bottoms, his fingers covered by you slick coat, adding the bit-test of pressure on you clit rubbing it in small circles. all you could focus on was the determination and how hot he looked like this.
jude untied the bows from your bottoms, freeing you completely. he felt like he would die any second, this was real and no turning back. he could’ve watched you all night like this. so sensitive with the smallest touch.the familiar burn in your tummy when he sunk into you with a forceful thrust, hips curling and rocking to pleasure waves of emotions, the heat between your legs as he talked you through it all. the flicker in his eyes when you moaned and begged his name, how your nails scratched against his back asking for more and more.
“you belong to me… don’t you forget that y/n…” he kissed you sloppy, pushing one last thrust and spilling into you. it wasn’t just one round, he made sure to take you against the wall, balcony, shower, and the small couch in his room, in many positions too. he wanted to savor the moment like he imagined. this was way better than his dreams and thoughts in his head. you were so tight, so wet, very much made exactly for him.
the heavy weight on top you made you wake up early. you were used to waking up this early, but not with a hot body on top of you. with one eye barely open you looked at the digital clock, showing just before 7am, the whole house quiet. you looked around before your eyes landed on a sleepy jude, tucked between your arm and head nuzzled into your neck.
your heart raced, not being able to control your confused and guilty emotions. last night was real then? not a sick dream in your head or a movie, it had happened here in his room. “oh shit…” you whispered, chest sinking down as your controlled your breathing. you had to get out, feeling a tad stuck and rushed in space. this wasn’t supposed to happen… even though it felt so right. so meant to be.
you had managed to sneak jude to his back without waking him up. his lips pursed and brown drawn in, breathing heavy. you changed quickly back to your bikini, leaving the room how you had remembered. you ran a hand against your hair, the need to throw water in your face to cool the warmth in your cheeks. you weren’t used to this. you never did one night stands or had friends with benefits relationships. if that’s even what it was.
you couldn’t help but think maybe jude was lying to just get into your pants. you had seen how jude was like when around other woman. but you weren’t other woman. you we’re y/n. the shy but outgoing, smart but naive, and overly patient y/n. you didn’t want it be like them, or seen like them either. all you could think of was him. his brown eyes and stupid gentlemen demeanor.
you avoided him anywhere he was or walked in. the only way you could escape and let go of things was this. you weren’t used to this and didn’t have much experience so you did what you were best at which was ignore jude. but even your friends had noticed you were off and that there was a glow to you. drawing attention from everyone and the person who caused it all.
a small part of you did have a twinge of faith… what if he wasn’t lying? what if everything he proved to you last night was exactly how he felt? what if he was madly in love with you? that you were the woman of his dreams? that it wasn’t just sex and there was raw emotions included?
the ghost feeling against your back made you shiver, realizing it was jude who stood behind you, locking you with both arms extending out to cage you in as you cut up fruit. “you left me this morning,” jude spoke into your ear, feeling your weight shift from one foot to another. “i didn’t want anyone to catch us,” you say shaky, making up a lie knowing part of it was true.
“you’re lying to me…”
“am not. let me go… i-i-i need to bring this outside.”
“you are darling, you think i didn’t notice? you can’t even look at me without talking to me, and you’ve ignored me the whole day thinking i haven’t realized that,” jude let you go but followed behind you speaking a little louder. “lower your voice! i haven’t said anything to anyone!” you hiss, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the pool room. “what is it you want from me?” you say pleading.
“i want you! i thought i made that clear last night. not just with sex, but with my confession? before we fell asleep? don’t tell me you forgot that,” you shook your head. “i’m just having trouble to process all this, jude… i feel like we’re making a huge mistake…”
“to whom? to our friends? or to you?” jude asked sincerely. you always seemed to put them first over yourself and jude noticed that. “why would it be a mistake? if at the end of the day what we have is real…”
“jude it’s been one night together between us! look at us now! i can’t risk our group falling if we don’t work out jude! it’s not fair to them, to me and you!” you tried to reason but jude shook his head. he stood up from where he leaned, his broad frame over towering yours again.
“why are you so adamant we won’t work? we’ve barely been given a shot here! you’re overthinking it y/n. they don’t have to know a single thing pretty girl, not unless you don’t want them too.but for once think of what you want and your heart desires. not what your friends say. forget them and for once think about yourself,” jude spoke, grabbing your hands.
“i want us to work more than anything y/n. i’m not lying to you and have never gave you the reason either. i’m a good man y/n. just let me in here,” he poked your heart, seeing a sad smile appear on your face. “we can’t be so quick to judge without even trying! why is it so hard to do that? i just want to be with you, i’ve suffered enough as it is already,” jude was pleading, wanting to do anything to keep you here with him.
“and if we do and i lose you jude? people have walked in and straight out of my life. what if we try and it’s going so well just for us to part? i can’t handle losing someone else i love,” you whimper, tears of exhaustion and pain let out. “imagine me now and then? i’ve always thought what’s best for myself and i’m just confused jude… why me?” your voice sounded strained and from another dimension.
“why not you? you’re perfect y/n. anyone who thinks other wise must have been dropped into their head. you have everything that makes me so drawn to you… your eyes… your smile… your way of being… your hair… your everything. you’re everything i want and i’m willing to prove that to you however you ask. just let me be the man you need pretty girl…” jude rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your jaw as you began to fall deeper into this new wave and world with him.
“no one knows. just me and you jude,” you kissed him feverently. the aching burn in your chest as he kissed you with such devotion and power. you shivered beneath him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him closer. jude let out a small groan gripping your hips and pushing you to his lower body. there was no self-control here, no professionalism. he quickly became your favorite taste, and feeling. just two humans brought together in the most correct and soulmate way.
two humans who had no idea what was ahead of them.
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"am i your wallpaper...?"
characters - ryomen sukuna x gn reader
synopsis - sukuna starts feeling unknown, scary emotions when he sees your lock screen wallpaper.
genre - fluff
warnings - sukuna might be a bit ooc, bc its so hard for me to write him...😭
from prompt special request (prompt #10) <3
"get off me, you insolent human." sukuna grumbled the moment that you threw yourself on his lap, whining about your exhausting day.
despite his harsh words, you still stayed in your place on the couch. you knew that man very well, and it wasn’t difficult to notice his smirk (though he tried really hard to hide it). that’s how you ended up with your head on his thighs, playing with the material of his shirt. in the meantime, sukuna was showing the not-so-obvious side of him—he was gently brushing his hand through your hair. even though he shows himself as an intimidating and fearful man, your lover has a soft spot for you. some people that are close with you could even say that you have him “wrapped around your finger," and that wouldn’t be a lie. right now, you’re just relaxing while the pink-haired man scrolls through his phone. he suddenly looks up at you when you start shifting and lift yourself from him.
“where are you going? i did not permit you to leave my side.” he complained, confused by your actions.
you rolled your eyes at his clinginess.
“i’m going to the bathroom; stop acting like you’ll die if i leave your sight, kuna,”you sigh with a smile. he was so cute.
you get up from the sofa and start heading towards the restroom. the moment you were away, sukuna’s smile widened. It was a brief while when he could show that he’s truly pleased by your closeness. suddenly, the king of curses hears something vibrating on the couch. he looks around in search for the source of the noise. that’s when he notices your phone lighting up. he squints his eyes, looking towards the device.
“no, that cannot be right.” your partner mumbles to himself, seeing the picture on your lock screen.
it looked like the one that you took after your last date, when you both were lying in bed. he can swear he’s seeing things, because why would you have this picture there? what was the purpose? sukuna’s chest is full of weird feelings; he’s shure he never felt before. why is he happy? Is that... the thing humans call “excitement”? ... no, that’s wrong. after all, he is the most powerful of all curses; he does not feel those trivial things, right? all of a sudden, he’s thrown out of his thoughts by quiet steps from the bathroom. your lover immediantly switches his attention from your phone to you. as soon as you see sukuna, you can tell that something is bothering him. you already know that he won’t tell you whats wrong, so you decide to bring it up yourself.
“hey, what’s got you so annoyed? you look like you just ate a lemon.” you try to start carefully and a bit playfully, but sukuna does not buy it.
“you, human. what were you thinking when you did that, huh?! i demand an answer.” pink-haired man ordered.
now you were seriously confused. you got him annoyed? but weren’t you just explaining to him that it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom, not a whole ass journey across the world? now you’re getting mad.
“the hell you’re talking about idiot?" you bark at him.
sukuna’s mouth opens but closes a second later.
“come on, spit it out already; you got something to say, then go on.” you force him to explain himself. your partner takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, like he’s bracing himself for an impact.
“am i your wallpaper...?” he almost whispers.
when you hear him, you almost choke on your saliva. what?! he acts all annoyed and everything because you have him on your lock screen?
“wha-...kuna, is that why you looked so dissatisfied earlier? i mean, i can change it if you want, but...”
“did I say I want you to change it?” he asks loudly.
now he looks at you like you offended him. this man is truly a confusing one.
“no, but...” you try to continue, but he doesn’t let you.
“so be quiet. can’t listen to your rambling” sukuna cuts you off. you can’t help but start giggling. your man’s face is all red from embarrassment. he—ryomen sukuna, the king of curses—is blushing because his partner has him on their wallpaper. you jump back at the couch beside him, taking his face in your hands and squeezing his cheeks. his eyes widen at your action.
“you...how dare you... insolent human, you have the audacity...” he stutters, and you laugh more at him.
“you’re so cute, kuna… so incredibly adorable.” you teased and placed a soft kiss on his lips. when you pulled away, the curse man still had pink cheeks, but additionally a smile on his face.
“i like that picture.” he whispers.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
hi, hello, it’s me again! this is my first work from that prompt special request 🤍 i tried really hard to write sukuna as much in-character as i can, but it’s reallt hard for me to do it correctly 🥹 feel free to leave reviews! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
and thank you for reading this ~
#⊹₊⟡⋆ kirarasworks#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk sukuna#sukuna fluff#sukuna x you
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Why Optimus being a good person in upper class/ Megatron being an angry rebellious lower class is a great and meaningful plot
Recently, with TFOne coming out, I’ve learned that the new movie made changes to Optimus and Megatron’s backstories and instead of giving them different backgrounds, like coming from different classes (like in tfp or idw1), they’re put in the same class as colleagues in mines. I’ve already seen people celebrating this as “an innovation/ something new” and an uplifting of Optimus’s character, because as the lower class he gets to rebel, therefore Megatron’s character aura won’t overshadow his. But actually, I am quite disappointed at this change. I think such arrangement is a worse one, not a better one, especially to those who love character depth and realist plots.
First of all, I want to argue that Optimus and Megatron carry every different roles in all transformers shows in general. By this I mean no matter how the plots change, the foundation of their motivations are different—maybe only except for Shattered Glass, where their roles are exchanged. Megatron’s foundation of motivation is: war/chaos. No matter how much his actions are justified, Megatron is still a bad guy, because he sticks to a path of violence and destruction rather than peace and negotiations. In contrast, (I put Megatron first because Optimus’s motivation is clearer if compared with Megatron) Optimus’s underlying logic (the foundation of his character motivation) is: peace/order. No matter how brilliant the battle scenes were, no matter how much he talked about “stopping Megatron at all costs”, Optimus’s final goal is to seek peaceful solution to the conflicts he engaged in, and find a way to resume order. That is also the basic logic of every transformers show, and how the playwrights justify autobots as the good guys, decepticons the bad guys. (This can be easily understood through series that give Megatron and decepticons fully justifiable motivations, like tfp and idw. They started the war because they were angry at the unjust treatments, and became villains because they eventually became a source of ongoing chaos and destruction)
With this premise, it is not difficult to see how brilliant and intelligent it is to put Optimus and Megatron in two different classes. Because people’s thoughts vary with very different experiences. In the past successful shows like tfp, the conflict between Optimus/Megatron is perfectly explained with an idealist/realist contrast.
Being an idealist advocate of freedom and equality is a successful way most Optimus(es) are portrayed. Under this premise, Optimus is basically a good person with strong sense of morality. He is aware of the problems in his system, seeks a change, but because he is from a more “privileged” class, or to say, closer to the power holders, he tends to develop an idealistic view of solving problems with milder approaches: handing in proposals, talking with congress members, or growing his own influence and trying to persuade the congress. In any of these cases, Optimus’s ideas are in line with his background. And like any well-written character, he is limited by what he can see in the class he belongs to.
As we’ve analyzed at the very beginning, Megatron’s characterization mainly revolves around “war and chaos”, one clever way (tfp and idw) playwrights used to make him more than just an evil stage prop is to make him more of a realist, in contrast with Optimus’s idealism. This usually comes with the backstory of Megatron coming from the bottom of the society, rebels with violence against social suppression he could not endure— at the same time, he also has a natural tendency to seek radical solutions. With this disadvantaged background, Megatron’s violent behaviors and refusal of peace are not groundless actions. It is a clever way to reflect the reality and increase plot depth. In my opinion, explaining “why the villain does evil” is the key to a successful story.
Another thing I want to argue is that, I don’t think giving Megatron and decepticons a justifiable backstory is diminishing/ “overshadowing” Optimus’s character. Because as we analyzed above, Megatron and Optimus have different roles to play. One overthrows the old system, the other rebuilds the new system. One raises the question, the other spends more efforts to find a feasible solution. Optimus and Megatron are two sides of the same coin. The depth of Megatron’s motivation actually decides how brave/noble/meaningful Optimus is in the act of “defeating” Megatron. For example, If Megatron’s “evil” is flatly portrayed as a bad-tempered child throwing a tantrum, Optimus’s “act of justice” is merely an older child calming the naughtiest kid in class.
Some believe that “not being able to stand up and rebel against suppression (like idw Megatron did)” made Optimus somehow “uncool” compared to Megatron. But he’s not. In fact, Optimus’s journey is not a bit easier compared to Megatron.
Instead of “suppressed class rebelling when there’s nothing to lose”, Optimus’s growth arc follows the route of a compassionate upper class who can look beyond where he stands for, and resonate with people who’s living under him and away from his life. Compared to Megatron’s “outward rebellion”, Optimus’s rebellion is “inward”: he has to fight himself to reach the higher ground— fighting the urge to step back into his conventional ways of thinking, fighting his self-doubts and inborn modesty to step back from leadership (very well presented in TFA and TFP), and by the end of the war, in most Megop fictions, Optimus has to fight back the urge to continue the war as he is used to, and step forward to “see” and “move” Megatron— understanding him, reaching out to him, loving him. Many people take “fighting on with the villains” as a braver, manly act, but actually stopping the conflict takes more courage and wisdom. And in the long run, it’s always a superior choice.
In short, I still think writing Megatron as the rebellious lower class and Optimus a compassionate upper class is a genius idea beyond comparison. They’re bound to be different, and there’s no harm in creating separate backstories for them. Like I’ve read in an early megop novel that has become a classic: “I’m here to do things you wouldn’t, so that you can do what’s right.” (Megs to OP)
In my own impression, Megatron is a radical revolutionary, and Optimus is an idealist reformer. The two carry different aims and functions in the plots, their values contradict and supplement each other, and so when they’re finally united, sitting down and listening to each other, their unity is incomparable.
#transformers#megop#tf one 2024#tfp#tfa#tf idw1#megatron#optimus prime#maccadam#analysis#character analysis#Alice’s analysis#my thoughts
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He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.
Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?
But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.
Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?
He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.
~***~
What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?
~***~
It hurts.
Why does it hurt?
He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.
If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.
Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-
~***~
“Fucking bees.”
~***~
He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time.
He feels safe. And alive.
He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.
It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.
He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.
He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own.
When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.
The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?
“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.
“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.
Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.
Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long.
“Thanks,” he says.
The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”
He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.
“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”
The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.
“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”
Ah, so -
“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”
“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”
“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.
“So…what?” the man prods.
“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”
“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”
Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”
“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”
Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”
The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”
It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.
“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”
Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”
The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.
“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”
“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.
There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all.
Together.
part 1
part 2
part 3
also now on ao3!
#911 abc#911#911 on abc#the ally and the beast#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#bucktommy fanfic#tevan#kinley#kinkley#firepilot#jules writes
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strangers | leah williamson
pairing: leah williamson x reader
a/n: longest fic yet. enjoy pls, i kind of love this. slight warning it does touch on the grief that one feels after a big breakup including (briefly) the awful physical symptoms of breakups. if that's sensitive for you i wish the best and advise that this might not be the fic for you x
summary: reader and leah are together for years before breaking up due to long distance. after a couple of years reader moves back to england and sees leah, and all the love comes flooding back. angsty, but fluffy.
word count: 3.3k
Your life changed when you were eighteen, not only because you signed for Arsenal, but you were in love for the first time in your life. From your early encounters with Leah, you could already feel yourself falling for her. You found her endlessly endearing, drawn in by her quiet confidence and warmth off the pitch, and her fiery commitment to every game she played.
Even though you were too scared to confess your feelings to anyone, you somehow found yourself one evening telling Leah how much you adored her. You told her about how you had felt a connection with her since the first time you met, and how it had only proved itself since then. And she reciprocated every single word of your rambling romantic confession.
From that night, you two were together for almost six years. For the most part, it was the best time of your life. You were playing at your dream club, with the perfect girlfriend, and you were happier than ever. Things always ran smoothly for you and Leah, it was just the way your personalities complimented each other. Conflict resolution came easy to you both, and you were able to talk to each other through anything that was troubling you.
For years it felt like you two were growing at the same pace, and that was why you were able to be together for so long. You both had the same visions for your future, and you had really planned on staying in London with Leah by your side for the rest of your life.
But that was all before you got the offer from Bayern Munich. You never imagined being away from Leah, and maybe you were naive in thinking long-distance would be easy for you guys. So you made the difficult decision to leave Arsenal, to leave London and Leah, and move to Germany.
After your move it became clear very quickly that proximity was important for you both. When your were living several countries away from each other, your connection which you thought was strong enough to withstand the world ending had started to be put to the test. You were talking and understanding each other less, and fighting more about stupid, trivial things. You saw a new, jealous side of Leah who would accuse you of spending too much time with new teammates, and not making time for her anymore. And you yourself were questioning Leah's attraction for you, as you couldn't feel that daily love and affection you'd been so accustomed to through the phone.
It all got to the point where you were struggling to even get yourself to training because you felt so drained by your inability to make things work with Leah. Your teammates at Bayern had noticed and had created a space where you felt safe enough to confide in them. After talking it through with some of your teammates who provided you with their objective opinions on the situation, you made the hardest choice of your life.
Leah's voiced was raised to the point where her it was almost breaking, "Six years Y/N, does all that mean nothing to you?"
"Leah, I will always love you. I just don't think as long as I'm in Germany we can be together. It's not good for us darling, we've been fighting more than ever, and I don't want to feel this resentment towards you... I don't want you to feel badly about me either," you had tried to explain, but it had come out much less clearly through your own tearful voice, punctuated with short breaths as you gasped for air.
"You can't do this Y/N. You can't give up on us," Leah had begged you, but you had remained firm in your decision and it was the last proper conversation the two of you had. Other than a couple of Champions League games where you avoided each other, and one brief trip back to London where you collected all your things from the apartment you shared, you hadn't seen Leah since.
The breakup was something you'd tried to forget, and even though it's been two years since then, you still often question whether or not you made the right decision that day. What stuck with you was the empty aching you felt every time a thought of her passed through your head. In spite of your best attempts to put it behind you and to move on, you will never forget how much love you felt for Leah, and how much grief and sadness you felt the instant you ended things.
Every week that has passed since then you have wondered what your life would be like if you and Leah had made the long-distance thing work. But now you were thinking about it even more because after a few seasons at Bayern, you were going back to play in the WSL.
When Man City approached you, your first instinct was that you absolutely could not go back to England. Because to you, England was Leah. Every memory of your time in England from when you moved at 18, to when you left at 23, is connected to Leah. As much as you loved your time in the country, you never thought you could go and live there again without her by your side. It just wouldn't feel right. However, after several meetings with your manager and calls with City, it became an offer you couldn't turn down.
At least you weren't going back to London, you thought. The distance between the capital and Manchester was just enough to feel like Leah wasn't completely within reach. Of course, it had been different once you were actually living back in England, playing with City, and having to face the reality that you and Leah would be on the same pitch again, but this time as virtual strangers.
You'd heard through the grapevine that over the last couple of years Leah had done her fair share of dating around, but you also were aware that she hadn't been in any serious relationship since you two broke up, and it was the same on your end. How were you supposed to move on when you still thought about your ex every day?
One night you were cooking dinner at your flat for yourself and Georgia Stanway, who had become a close friend of yours since her arrival at Bayern. You two had hung out a bit when you and Leah were still together, but even though Leah was one of Georgia's closest friends, she had never uttered her name around you or asked you anything about your relationship since she transfered to the German club. Not until you two were talking about how you felt about moving back to England and what it would be like playing for City, and you mentioned it first.
"It feels kind of wrong," you said honestly, "I still can't imagine not being an Arsenal player. And you know, being there without Leah."
Georgia looked at you sympathetically, "Do you miss her? I can't imagine how hard all that was for you both."
"I miss her every day, Georgia," you sighed, smiling just to ease the pain, "But I just have to keep telling myself it was the right decision, otherwise I think I'd just live in misery."
She gave you a hopeful smile, "I hope you two can work it out one day, even just as friends. I've never seen two people make each other so happy."
"Yeah I hope so too," you agreed, though the voice in your head told you that you could never make up with Leah after the way you ended things.
You had finally moved back to England after a tearful goodbye to your teammates at Bayern, but you knew it was for the best. Your first week in Manchester you were reminded of how much you loved living in England, mostly because of how different it was from where you grew up. Stepping outside always felt like stepping onto a film set. It was nice too, to catch up with old friends. It was already so much easier to organise trips into London to visit old teammates.
It was on a weekend that you were down in London, when you saw Leah for the first time. You should have known better, walking around St Albans, expecting that you wouldn't see anyone you knew. It wasn't a big enough city to get away with that.
It was still August and the League hadn't started yet, so you were free to make a trip down to London for the weekend to visit Caitlin and Katie, friends you had missed so much while you were living in Germany. You missed everything about Arsenal, but you knew there was no way you could go back there after the way things ended with Leah. It would be much too painful to even try to be friends after everything. There was too much history there that would have been impossible to set aside.
In the morning you had told Katie and Caitlin you would walk into town and buy some bread since they were out, and it was on your way home that you found yourself looking into the face of the person who you once loved more than anyone. It took a moment to register that she was actually there, getting closer as you kept walking.
"Oh my god," you said out loud, finding it extremely jarring to see her after all this time.
You both slowed to a stop in front of each other and Leah, who had always been the more talkative one, was left speechless. Looking at you her heart was both beating for you and breaking all over again.
After a few beats of silence you shook yourself out of your state of shock, "Hi, how are you?", you said.
"I feel like I'm dreaming," Leah said, finally smiling a little as she also moved away from the initial shock of seeing you again. The sound of her voice and the smile on her face brought you instant comfort. She looked different, in the best way. She looked older, which surprised you since she always had such a baby face. But now she looked mature, she looked her age, somehow so different from the 24 year old version of her you last knew.
"Me too," you agreed, laughing slightly at how awkward you were finding this to be. You'd imagined this moment endlessly over the last couple of years, but now that it was really happening you were at a loss.
"What are you doing here?" Leah shook her head, trying to make sense of seeing you.
"I'm staying with Katie and Caitlin for a couple of days," you explained.
"Oh, they didn't mention anything," Leah said, though she knows that people avoid talking about you around her. They know it's still painful for her to hear your name. Just like how Georgia never mentioned her around you.
You realised then that your transfer hadn't been announced yet by the City, and that Leah must know nothing of the news.
"You probably haven't heard, but I've actually moved back here," you say tentatively, knowing that the only reason you two weren't together was because you were living apart. But now you were closer than you had been in two years, and you had no clue what that meant, or if it had the power to change anything.
"What, to London?" Leah said quickly, her voice raising an octave in shock.
"No, I'm up North now. I've actually signed for City," you explain.
"Wow," she says, nodding her head and processing the news. The way she is looking at you doesn't give much away. Her face actually looks quite blank, as if she doesn't know at all how to feel about this.
"Yeah," you say quietly.
"Sky blue will suit you," she says simply and you smile, grateful for the playful comment.
"I don't know, I'm still struggling with the fact I'm not going to be back in red," you say, more meaning held in those words than you intended. Because not being back in red also for you meant not being back with Leah.
"I expected you to stay in Germany for a lot longer," Leah says and the feelings of guilt rush in. You'd thought about this a lot when you decided to come back to England.
The main reason you had called it quits with Leah was because you thought Germany was going to be your home for at least another five years. You couldn't do that many more years of distance, of short phone calls, of fighting and miscommunication. But of course you never thought after just a couple of years you would be coming back to England. And if you had, you might have been able to stick things out with Leah.
"I really did too," you say sincerely, hoping that she knows you wouldn't have done what you did if you knew you'd be back so soon.
Leah runs her hand roughly through her hair, and you can almost see the cogs turning in her head through the look in her eyes.
"This changes things then, doesn't it?" She asks, voicing the thoughts floating around both your minds.
"I suppose it does," you nod imperceptibly, afraid to admit it.
You stand in silence now, looking at each other trying to work out exactly what this changes.
"I miss you so much," Leah says, her voice thin and wavering.
"I know. I've felt sick without you," you say, voicing things you'd never voiced to anyone. You have genuinely experienced the most physical forms of grief for Leah. The first few months after the breakup you were nauseous everyday, throwing up even when your stomach was completely empty. It just felt impossible to go on without her.
Leah just nods, having been through the exact same things.
"I'm so sorry," you say finally taking the opportunity to apologise for the thing that you've felt so much guilt and remorse about.
"It's okay," Leah assures you, but you shake your head instantly.
"It's not, I don't know what I was thinking Leah," you say honestly, feeling the emotions all over again. Your eyes well up and Leah is quick to embrace you, allowing you to let it out in her arms.
"You were right about everything but," she says, "Things weren't working."
"Yeah, but I should've tried to work through it," you voice the things you'd been thinking over for the last two years, trying to compose yourself with deep breaths.
"I wasn't making it easy for you, I was so hard on you. I feel really bad about the way I treated you when you left," Leah reflects on her own behaviour.
"It's okay," you tell her now.
You stand in the middle of the footpath in St Albans, holding each other, both unable to believe that this was real.
"You don't absolutely hate me do you? Because I'd understand if you did," you say, stepping back to look at Leah, trying to ease some of the tension.
She laughs, "I tried hating you," she says, "But that lasted about a minute and then I just went on trying to love you less."
"And how did that go?" You ask hopefully.
"Yeah not very good," she says.
"I couldn't really get the hang of not loving you either," you say.
Leah is smiling, but you can see the reservation in her eyes. She knows that everything has suddenly changed, but still, nothing is the same as it once was. You feel it too.
"What do we do now?" She asks.
You shrug your shoulders, "I've got to deliver this bread back to Katie and Caitlin, do you want to come?"
"I'll come," she nods, "But what happens after that?" Leah says.
"After that," you sigh, "We are about two years overdue in catching up on each others lives, so I'd say we'll have a nice long chat."
You are stepping forward now, beginning the journey back to Katie and Caitlin's, and Leah is by your side.
"Best start now then," Leah says, and the two of you fall deep into conversation immediately. It warms you heart how at home you feel, even after all this time.
When you knock on the door back at the girls flat, Katie answers with a look of absolute shock on her face.
"What are you doin here!?" She looks right at Leah, as if she was an intruder.
"Well I bumped into this one in town and she invited me over, is that alright?" Leah explains.
Katie takes a moment to process the words before nodding and stepping back to let you both inside.
"Oh my god, what are you doing here?" Caitlin echoes when you all walk into the living room together.
"We've just bumped into each other," you say, "I thought I'd drop off the bread before Leah and I go and catch up."
"Cool, cool," Caitlin says, trying to mask her shock while Katie looks on, stunned into a very uncharacteristic silence.
"God, you two look like you've seen a ghost," Leah says.
"I feel like I have!" Katie stresses, and you feel the exact same way.
"Alright, let's go down the park," you suggest to Leah, a place where you two used to walk around in circles, chatting for hours. It seems like the perfect place to go.
"Perfect," she nods, "Bye you two," she looks between her teammates.
"See ya, have fun," Caitlin says.
"Don't kill each other," Katie says and you scoff.
"We won't," you roll your eyes.
You and Leah step out the front door you share a moment of laughter about the interaction.
"Did I hide my shock better than those two when I saw you?" You ask.
"Absolutely not, I believe your words were oh my god," Leah laughs.
You two end up at the park, walking around at first, talking about how you are going to be playing for City now and your time at Bayern. Leah gives you the big run down on what's been happening at Arsenal since you've left, telling you about all the new players. It's like seeing an old friend, and you're just so glad that she hasn't spent two years hating you.
After what must be over an hour, you two sit at a bench. Same one you would always find together on your morning walks.
It's weird being so physically close to her again. You want to reach out and hold her forever, but you think it might be too soon. Leah feels the same though and she shows it in the way her hand reaches out to find yours.
"Can I be honest with you?" She asks.
"Of course you can," you say with a squeeze of her hand.
"I haven't felt this..." she pauses trying to find the word, "Happy? Peaceful? I don't think there is a right word to tell you how right this feels to be with you again," she says, healing all the cracks in your broken heart.
"It feels the same as I remember it feeling," you say in agreement, "Like this is just how it's supposed to be."
"Would it be absolutely crazy of us to try to pick up where we left off?" Leah suggests.
"People will definitely think we're crazy, but I don't have a problem with that," you say.
"Is this really what you want?" Leah asks, using her free hand to gesture between you both.
"Yes," you say without missing a single beat, "I don't want to ever go without this again."
"Good. We're on the same page then," she nods finally.
Not wanting to wait any longer you ask her a question you've been dying to ask, "Can I kiss you, please?"
Without even a word Leah just smiles, leaning in to kiss you. Somehow it's a goodbye kiss, and a hello kiss, an I missed you kiss, and an I'm sorry kiss. It's everything you wish you could've said to each other in once simple gesture.
"I haven't stopped loving you for a minute, I hope you know that," you say quietly, as you pull apart.
Leah smiles, looking at you with all the love in the world, "I've spent years dreaming that one day we'd see each other again and you'd say that."
"In my dreams, you say it back," you joke.
"Sorry," Leah shakes her head, "I love you."
#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#awfc#woso x reader#lionesses x reader#arsenal women#woso#woso community#lionesses
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Writing Notes: Backstory
Backstory - the history of the character.
It addresses the following:
Who the character is
Why the character is the way he or she is
It’s an origin story, pure and simple.
The most comprehensive backstories start from the very beginning of the character's life and ends the moment that your novel begins.
It’s generally in chronological order, but not necessarily written in narrative form.
It can be a collection of data, such as keystone events, names and dates.
The backstory doesn’t always need to be shared
Most backstories are just for your eyes only.
You can create a complex, rich, hauntingly beautiful backstory for your characters, but that doesn’t mean it should be in your novel.
Far too often, authors try to insert a compelling backstory into their novel. The result? It weighs down the story and slows pacing to a grinding halt.
Resist the urge to add your backstory to your novel unless it’s something that the reader truly needs to know.
You reader probably doesn’t need to know the names of your character’s parents, or other mundane details— but you do. You need to know everything that the character knows. This is how you can write from the character’s point of view effectively.
Otherwise, you’re phoning it in and writing from sketch, not from portrait.
Depending on the scope of your novel, it may be a good idea to inject some of your backstory into the main story. You’re never going to give everything you know to the reader.
If you dump all of those facts without the benefit of context, it will overwhelm the reader and make it difficult for them to see the story.
As the writer, you take all of the facts you know, carve them into a beautiful work of art, and make the moral of your story obvious.
That’s what makes you the artist, and the editor an essential partner in the process.
Start with a present day character sketch
Even before you start writing, you already have a vague idea of who your character is currently.
Maybe he’s a crusty, old curmudgeon. Maybe she’s a optimistic, but naive, teenager.
No matter who your character is, start with what you know already and go back from there.
Ask and answer the following questions to start crafting a solid backstory:
What is this character’s biggest flaw? What’s the origin of this flaw?
Where is the character from?
Where are the character’s parents from? How did they come to have a child and under what circumstances? Was it a happy union or a chance encounter?
What is the character afraid of? Trace the answer back to the character’s childhood and explain why.
What makes the character happy? Trace the answer back to the character’s childhood and explain why.
What does your character believe about himself and how did he come to this conclusion?
What are his goals? Why does he have these goals?
Pinpoint a life changing moment
Everyone, your characters included, have select moments in their lives that completely alter their choices.
These times are rarely announced with fanfare.
Example: It’s not the wedding day that changes your character’s life, it’s the moment five years earlier when your character meets her spouse-to-be in the line at Burger King.
Thanks to the 20/20 vision of hindsight, you can see how the character’s present day life was shaped by seemingly random encounters and events that took place years ago. Remember that all of her previous choices take place in, and are a reaction to, her backstory.
Those choices made her into the person your reader meets in your novel. How did her life’s experiences shape her into the current character?
Explore the gray
No character is completely good or completely bad.
Resist the urge to paint any character as all evil or all angelic.
Even a villain is the hero of his own story.
Remove your black and white filters and look at the character as someone who exists in shades of gray. If he has experienced kindness along with pain, then your backstory should reflect that.
Use it as motivation
The backstory should always motivate the character - positively or negatively.
The character either stands on what he knows and has experienced, or he’s running away from what he knows and has experienced. Either way, it can make a compelling plot for your novel.
Creating a backstory takes time and thought, but you’ll find that the quality of your writing will improve. Knowing your characters inside and out will make them more real to you and, as a result, more real to your readers.
Source ⚜ Writing Worksheet: Character Backstory Writing References: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character
#writing notes#character development#backstory#on writing#writing tips#writing advice#creative writing#writing reference#spilled ink#writeblr#dark academia#light academia#writing prompt#writing inspiration#writing ideas#fiction#michael whelan#writing resources
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