#hopefully this clarifies at least something

[littledesertfox]

Kinda thinking about whether I should post some of my art on here should I find the time to draw again ... on one hand I think it'd be nice to share it, but on the other hand I'm worried that somehow, people who know me from my regular account will stumble across this one and recognise my art style, and I'll be called out/cancelled because they probably won't understand this community🤐

[conhex]

ok so switched medications and now im less filled with hatred (^^)

[gideonisms]

Job app person -- I've spent time applying for multiple jobs but never a whole month one single job application?? I'm sincerely confused about what your poll is asking and was trying to ask for clarification, sorry if it seemed rude :(

Oh no, it didn't seem rude! Hopefully my response didn't either, I was just delighted to think there might be someone in this world who didn't have to go through the 9 rings of hell to get a job

[leadendeath]

mental health problems and art rant who giv a shit

i've done toony styles before throughout my long time in doing art, and i really want to continue drawing toony styles now.

i feel like i have to strive to make my art look as good as possible, but that's a sisyphean task. i haven't been having fun with art, it's a chore.

i feel like it shows i've been trying too hard. with furry side of things, i've been trying to learn to draw lots of different species- all which takes time. and different body types- which takes time, too- mainly muscle, which is really hard to make it look right, and i think you need to actually learn in-depth anatomy and study equally in-depth diagrams n stuff to really succeed. sucks when you can't draw something you like ://

i've been trying to get better at all these things for 2-3 years, and i haven't seen progress. it's not exactly encouraging.

but when i stop trying with those things? it's like a relief. maybe in more time i'll find a balance between what i call "technical" (meaning muscle, basically) and "toony".

am i being lazy? probably. i can't help but feel like i am. but i'm actually having a good time now. so i don't know if i care :)

[cowboybeepboop]

Love your stuff! You are such a good writer!

Could you write something about Scott and reader being in a secret relationship and she's javis little sister and every guy on both teams have been told she's off limits. Reader is more Innocent and sweet so javi is super protective of her Scott and the reader didn't listen and have been seeing each other and at the hotel one night they were making out in the truck and javi catches them and him and Scott get in fight where Tyler and Boone have to break it up. Things are said bw the reader and javi and he storms off. Scott and the reader go to her room and she cleans up his cuts from the fight and they say their first I love yous and decide no matter they are staying together have a romantic night of love making making❤️(maybe since the reader is sweet and innocent she can be a virgin thats up to you)

Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader

Genre: Romantic smut, fluff at the end

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: Secret relationship, arguing/fighting, p in v sex (unprotected), shower sex

a/n: The virgin idea is completely up to the reader bc I never clarified. Also I lowkey went off the rails with this one, but hopefully this lives up to your expectations <3 thank you for the request and your compliment 🙏

As Javi’s little sister you’re used to his overprotective antics, starting from the day you began going to school with him. He’s always been very extreme in making sure no one gets their hands on you. Which is infuriating, to say the least.

So once you started chasing storms with him and his team, it truly was no surprise that he made sure to make it known that you were strictly off limits. But unfortunately for him, you caught the eye of his extremely tall, handsome, and romantic friend.

Scott isn’t as big of a dick as he pretends to be, which you found out after running into him at your brother's place a couple months ago. Scott had caught you coming back from the bar alone and walked you to your room. He made sure you got inside okay, he helped you change clothes, get into bed, and then even stayed until you fell asleep because you didn’t want to be alone.

He’s a total sweetheart, but you’re the only one to see that side of him. That fact is what drives you closer to him. I mean being the only person to get his princess treatment, that's enough to make you crazy for him. You’ve been secretly dating him for the past couple months since you met each other.

A soft knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts as you begrudgingly slip out of your warm bed. Opening the door you see your older brother and audibly sigh. “Javi, it's too early.” You whine.

Scott stands behind Javi and smirks, he crosses his arms and leans against one side of the doorframe. He chuckles when he hears your whining, he always did get a kick out of how cute you are when you’re half asleep. Scott looks you up and down for a moment, letting Javi speak first though.

“Come on we need to head out soon,” Javi gives you a cheesy smile while your eyes drift to the man behind your brother, your secret boyfriend. Your body straightens as his presence wakes you up instantly.

“Right okay, give me a minute.” You quickly slam the door in their faces as a blush creeps up your cheeks. Scott was the last person you expected to see, especially while looking like this.

You quickly throw on a pair of jean shorts, a little shorter than necessary, and a pink baby tee. Brushing your hair as you check your appearance in the mirror. You put on a little bit of red lipgloss and mascara, hoping that your outfit will catch the attention of Scott and finally lead to something more than a few heated kisses.

When you open the door both Scott and Javi are still standing in the hall in front of your room. Scott’s eyes widen when he sees you come out of your room, his heart rate picks up at the sight of your exposed skin. Javi on the other hand, rolls his eyes and shakes his head at the outfit you’ve picked.

“Are you really going to wear *that* today?” Javi says with a hint of disgust in his voice. Scott, on the other hand, is struggling to keep his eyes from wandering over your body.

“Why? What’s wrong with my outfit?” You cross your arms over your chest as your brother hands you his flannel.

“Cover up, Y/N.” Javi’s voice is firm as he clenches his jaw, stepping between you and Scott. You roll your eyes as you slip the red shirt on annoyed at his antics.

Scott can’t help but stare as you slip on Javi’s flannel, he can literally feel himself drooling while he watches you do up the buttons, covering up your baby tee and short shorts that he was enjoying a minute ago. “Jesus…” he mumbles under his breath as he tries to snap himself out of it.

“Whatever Javi, are you gonna force me to wear pants too?” You slam your door shut and lock it before he can agree to your suggestion. Walking past the two men as you head down the stairs.

Javi rolls his eyes once again at your stubbornness and follows after you down the stairs. Scott stands still for a moment as he watches the way your hips sway with each step. He sighs before slowly following after Javi and you, his eyes not leaving his view of your backside.

“It’s too hot to be fully covered.” You murmur to your brother with a soft glare, “I don’t see why you have to insist on me covering up all the time. I’m an adult you know.”

“I don’t care, I know how men think, the less skin they see the less they’ll think of you.” Javi snaps back as he follows you out of the motel and towards the parking lot. Scott watches from behind you both, not saying anything but secretly agreeing with Javi in his head.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes. “I’m not riding with you today. I’d rather go with Scott. Or anyone else.” Your words are slightly more venomous than intended but it’s just because you’re irritated with his attitude.

Scott smiles at your comment, Javi however, is not happy about the fact that you chose Scott over him, groans as you brush past him. “Why do you always have to be so difficult?” Javi mutters irritably.

Scott walks over to the passenger side door and opens it for you with a soft smile. You slide into the seat, excited to spend some more alone time with him. Javi shakes his head as he walks off toward his truck, clearly annoyed with you.

Scott shuts your door behind you and strides around to the driver’s side, still with a smile on his face. He gets in and starts it up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you defy your brother like that before.” He says with a chuckle, “I’ve never seen him so pissed off either.”

You glance over at Scott, your expression softening. “It’s about time I tell him the truth, he’s so frustrating sometimes.” With a sigh, you buckle up. “Plus it means we can spend the day together you know,” you smile at him while beginning to unbutton the flannel.

When you unbutton the flannel, Scott’s heart immediately skips a beat, his mind going back to the previous sight of your baby tee and denim shorts. “You better stop before you get us in an accident,” he mutters through gritted teeth, keeping his eyes on the road even though it’s extremely hard not to just stare at you.

A blush paints your cheeks as your hands fall from the shirt. “What do you mean?” You say softly with widened eyes.

He lets out a little laugh, “You’re going to give me a heart attack sweetheart. Wearing those damn shorts and then unbuttoning the flannel right next to me? I swear you’re trying to kill me.” Scott gives you a quick glance, his eyes wandering over the shorts that were still exposed.

“Well, I’m glad you like it.” biting down on your lip, “I tried to dress so I’d catch your eyes.” You murmur, letting your gaze wander out the window.

A low growl leaves his throat, his hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter as you mention dressing up for him. “Jesus Y/N, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?” He says with a hint of irritation and lust in his voice.

Reaching over you move your hand over his, “I didn’t think it would work this well,” you giggle softly as your fingers interlock together.

A small shiver courses throughout his body before he shakes it off. He lets out a breathless chuckle, “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how badly I want to pull over right now.” He lifts his hand up that you’re holding and kisses your knuckles.

Your face reddens with the implication of his words and the warm feeling of his lips against your skin. “I’m sure Javi would have something to say if you did,”

“Please do not mention your brother right now, his name is a total mood killer,” he says with a smirk as he brings your hand into his lap, his thumb gently stroking the back of it as he drives.

—————

After chasing the storm and getting all of the intended data you find your way back at your brother's side. The group is bustling with conversation as everyone discusses the data they collected so far. Scott, however, has a one track mind, and it centers around you.

Watching as you talk to the others, he can’t help but stare at you. He’s always been the most observant man, but right now, he wants nothing more than to take you away from the others and keep you to himself. Your eyes flick over to Scott as you give him a sweet smile.

Scott returns your smile with his own smirk, he watches as you turn your attention back to the data reports you and everyone else collected.

He then slowly crosses over to you, standing close behind you as he listens in to your conversation. You intentionally take a step back, pressing your body against him softly.

Scott tenses when you press yourself directly against him, a small gasp leaving his mouth before he has a chance to hold it in. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, the feeling of your body against him has his mind going a mile a minute.

“Okay guys why don’t we head back to the motel? We can review the data some more later.” Your brother's voice breaks up the chatter.

Hearing Javi’s voice, Scott snaps out of his daze. He clears his throat before glancing over at him, watching his expression as he looks from you to Scott and then back to you.

You give your brother an innocent smile before walking back toward Scott’s van. Javi narrows his eyes as he watches you walk with Scott back to his van, his lips pulling into a tight line. He can’t explain it, but the way Scott is acting with you is making Javi’s skin crawl.

Scott tries not to walk too quickly, but he’s honestly just trying to get you away from the others. He opens the passenger side door for you, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. You smile up at him as you buckle the seatbelt.

For a brief moment, Scott’s gaze flicks down to your lap, his eyes lingering on your smooth legs before going back up to your face. A lump forms in his throat as he shuts your door, his mind wandering with thoughts of what he wants to do to you.

He quickly walks around to the driver’s side and gets into the van, letting out a huff of air and muttering, “Jesus Christ, this is torturous.”

“Torturous?” You question while glancing over to him, a confused expression finding its way on your face. Scott starts the van up, the low hum of the engine filling the awkward silence for a moment.

“It’s torturous to be so close to you,” he says with a slight growl in his voice, “and not be able to put my hands on you the way I want to.”

Reaching over you grab his hand, guiding it to your thighs as he follows the rest of the team's trucks. “You *can* touch me Scott.” Your voice is quiet as you flush once again.

A guttural groan escapes his throat when you guide his hand to your thighs. His heart rate picks up as you give him permission to touch you in the way he had been craving for months.

Scott’s hand grips the soft flesh of your thigh, his fingers digging in just slightly. He feels your smooth skin against his rough hand, his palm heating with every inch of contact.

You lean back in your seat, moaning softly at his calloused touch. Scott’s breathing becomes heavier as he hears the quiet moan you let out. He squeezes your thigh in response, his hand slowly inching higher and higher.

“Sweetheart, the things I want to do to you right now,” he says with an almost pleading tone in his voice, “You have no idea how much you’re killing me.” You grasp onto his arm softly.

After Scott is finally able to pull his hand away, he grips the steering wheel tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning white. He takes several deep breaths, trying to regain his composure.

Scott takes a glance over at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed skin, the way you’re looking at him. It takes everything he has to not pull the van over and have his way with you

“Scott? What’s wrong?” You look at him with a slight pout, unhappy with the lack of his touch. Scott lets out a shaky breath as he parks the van and shuts it off. He shakes his head, trying to get his mind back in the right place.

He looks over at you, your pout making his chest ache with desire, “Please sweetheart, don’t look at me like that right now,” he groans with desperation in his voice, “I’m trying my best to take things slowly with you, but your making it incredibly difficult.”

The rest of the team heads toward the motel as you and Scott stay put in the van. Unbuckling your seatbelt and leaning closer to him you sigh out “Scott… who said we have to take things slow?”

When you unbuckle your seatbelt, he can’t help but tighten his grip on the steering wheel again, his muscles going rigid at your words. He looks at you with eyes darkened with lust as your face inches closer to his, but he stays in his seat.

“I-“ Scott’s voice is low and hoarse, he swallows hard. “I don’t want to rush into things with you, I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for,” he groans softly.

“Scott,” you let out a breathless sigh as you pull him by his collar pressing his lips to yours. All the willpower Scott has left snaps at the feeling of your lips on his. He groans into the kiss, his hand instantly going to the back of your head, holding you close.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips and into your mouth. “F-fuck…” he mutters between kisses. Your hand reaches up, cupping his cheek as you lean into him.

Scott’s head spins with the taste of you, you’re so sweet it’s almost overwhelming. He slowly moves his hand to the nape of your neck, his fingers gripping your hair and pulling you even closer. He lets out a low moan of your name as he kisses you desperately, needing more of you.

Before you can go any further, Scott is ripped out of the van and slammed into the ground. Your eyes widen as you see the fury in your brother's expression. “Javi?” You mutter, rushing out the vehicle you try to stop your brother.

Scott lands on the ground with a heavy impact and is met with Javi’s furious face looking down at him. Every ounce of Scott’s being wants to beat the shit out of Javi right now, but instead he stays put as you rush to get in between them.

Scott gets up with a grunt, spitting a little blood from his mouth “What the hell Javi?”

“Y/N, move.” Your brother's voice is cold as he rolls up his sleeves. “I told you to stay the fuck away from her and you couldn’t listen.” Your feet stay planted on the ground.

When Javi tells you to move, Scott’s eyes instantly land on you. He can see the determination in your face to stay between them.

His hands ball up into fists at the sight of Javi moving closer towards him. “She’s a goddamn adult, she can make her own decisions and I’m not letting her brother boss her around,” Scott says with an equal amount of coldness in his voice.

“It doesn’t matter what *you* think she’s my baby sister.” Your brother pulls you back despite your resistance and throws a punch to Scott’s jaw.

Scott’s jaw snaps to the side with the force of the punch. He winces at the pain, but turns his head back and looks up at Javi through a split lip.

His mind is a million miles a minute, a part of him wants to fight Javi, to put him in his place. But the other part of him is worried for you. “Stop Javi,” he grunts out, “this isn’t about what I think or don’t think, Y/N is old enough to choose who she wants.” Scott swallows. “And she wants me.”

His words fill your brother with more rage as he stalks forward, not letting up on his stance. You try to hold your brother back by his waist.

“Javi stop it, please.” You try to plead with him but he just tells you to stay out of it, peeling your arms away from him.

Scott doesn’t want to fight Javi, but he can’t just sit and let him attack him either. He throws punches at Javi, landing a few in his gut and in his face, bloodying his nose. Every punch he throws is filled with a mixture of anger and worry.

“Stop Javi, this is insanity!” he mutters between clenched teeth. Tyler and Boone come over with confused expressions as they separate the two.

“Javi? What’s going on here?” Tyler questions as they successfully separate the two. Scott glares at Javi through the blood on his face, breathing hard from the fight. When he sees Tyler and Boone, his eyes flicker over to you, checking to make sure you’re okay.

Javi has bloody knuckles and a swollen lip. He points at Scott with his bloodied hand. “He was disrespecting my sister,” he growls out.

“He wasn’t disrespecting me Javi!” You step in front of your brother, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re acting like a child. I’m allowed to make my own choices.” Your voice is harsh.

Javi’s expression hardens as you speak, standing at his full height and towering over you as you step in front. He scoffs at you as you tell him you can make your own choices.

“I’m trying to protect you! He’s only going to break your heart. He’s not good enough for you,” he practically snarls at you.

“I don’t need your protection.” Your eyes narrow, “Javi I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to protect me anymore.”

Javi’s expression darkens as you say you can take care of yourself. He shakes his head, letting out a scoff. “Why are you so hellbent on defying me all of a sudden?” He glares at you. “Do you seriously think I’m going to just stand by and let him break your goddamn heart?”

You let out a frustrated sigh as Boone and Tyler release the two other men, noticing their less aggressive demeanors. “Javi just stop it, please.” your eyes soften as you look at him.

Javi’s expression softens as you look at him with pleading eyes, his shoulders drooping at the sight of your look.

“Fine.” He mutters before walking past you, “But I’m only backing off because you asked…” He storms off to his motel room and shuts the door behind him.

You let out an exhausted sigh as you thank Tyler and Boone, apologizing for your brother's outburst. They both assure you that it’s okay and understand that your brother is just looking to protect you in his own way.

Scott stands off to the side, watching the whole time and trying not to interfere. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his lip and chin. Everything is quiet for a moment before he speaks up. “Sweetheart..”

You turn to him with worried eyes, “Are you okay?” your tone is soft as you brush a hand over his bruised cheek.

Scott’s expression softens at your question. He lets out a small sigh and reaches up to gently grasp the hand you’re using to touch his cheek. Scott leans into your touch, his eyes studying your face.

“I’m fine,” he replies in a quiet voice, “I just can’t stand seeing you caught in the middle like this.”

“Don’t worry, I’m used to him being so hot headed.” You murmur softly. “Come, let’s go to my room. I’ll clean you up.” teeth clamping down on your lip as you gaze up at him.

Scott nods silently, a small smirk forming on his cut lips. He reaches down to grab your hand, intertwining his calloused fingers with yours as you lead him to your motel room.

“You sure your brother won’t kill me when we go in there?” he teases, referencing the earlier fight. You roll your eyes playfully while pulling him behind you.

“Just forget about him Scott,” you unlock the door leading him inside. Scott lets out a quiet chuckle as he follows you into the room. He runs a hand through this messy hair as he stands by the bed, suddenly realizing how disheveled he must look. The blood on his face is starting to dry and the bruise on his jaw is starting to purple.

Grabbing your first aid kit you turn back to him pressing a hand to his chest as you push him down onto the edge of your bed.

Scott can’t help but let out a soft gasp as you push him back onto the bed. He looks up at you, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing in his chest.

“You going to play nurse for me, sweetheart?” He teases. You brush an alcohol wipe over his lip, cleaning up the blood.

“Mhm,” your eyes focus on his wounds, “after all I’m the reason you got beat up.” Your touch is gentle as you slip between his legs to get a closer look.

Scott’s hands rest on your hips as you clean the blood from his face. He watches the expression on your face as you tend to his wounds.

He can’t help but notice how beautiful you are as you focus on him, your face so close he can almost feel your breath on his skin.

“You’re the reason I got beat up?” He mutters with a slight smirk, “Not really. Pretty sure that’s your pain in the ass brother’s fault.” You sigh quietly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect him to see us…” your voice trails off as you cup his face.

Scott leans into your touch, nuzzling against your palm as you cup his face. He looks up at you with the same gentle look and sighs.

“Your brother knows how to pack a punch, I’ll give him that, but don’t be sorry sweetheart.” He mutters, speaking softly.

Scott’s heart stutters in his chest at your soft voice and the way you’re looking at him. He swallows hard, his heart aching with the words he wants to say in reply. “Y/N, I love you.”

Your eyes widen at his sudden confession, “I love you too, Scott,” you practically whisper in response.

The words you speak make Scott’s chest tight with elation. He couldn’t fight the way his lips turn up into a soft smile, eyes watching your face intently.

Scott reaches up to cup your face in his large, calloused hand. His fingers brush against your skin as they slip into your hair. “Say it again.” He mutters.

“I love you.” You slip onto his lap, your arms moving to his neck as you press a delicate kiss to his bruised lips. Scott’s arms instantly wrap around your waist as you settle on his lap, pulling you as close as possible. He lets out a soft moan against your lips as you kiss him, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

The feeling of you on his lap ignites a fire in his chest. As you kiss him, he groans against your lips, pulling you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against him.

He nips at your lower lip and deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You pull away from his lips, gasping for air as you whisper into his ear. “Scott.. I want you,”

You feel Scott shudder slightly as the breath of your whisper caresses his ear. He lets out a low groan, his grip on your waist tightening.

"What are you trying to do to me, sweetheart? Are you purposely trying to drive me mad?"

Scott moves his attention to the sensitive skin of your neck, placing soft kisses and nips along the skin there. You moan desperately as your hips move against his.

“Scott please,” you gasp softly as he flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours.

The sound of you moaning his name is almost too much for Scott to handle. His heart thumps in his chest as his body presses yours against the bed. He gazes down at you as he hovers above you. Scott can see the way your chest rises and falls rapidly as you breathe.

He lets out a low growl as he grinds his hips against yours. “Please what, sweetheart?” he mutters, his lips millimeters from yours.

“Please..” your eyes squeeze in embarrassment as you groan out, “touch me, anywhere, everywhere, please.”

All the air leaves Scott's lungs as you say those words. His eyes rake over you, taking in the sight of you lying beneath him, breathless and begging for him to touch you. Scott's body feels like it's on fire, he's burning from the inside out, and knowing he's the one who's made you like this only sends him further into a frenzy.

He leans down and presses his lips against your neck. “You have to be more specific,” he whispers against your skin. “Where do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?”

You bury your face into his neck, “Scott, don’t make me say it…” you sigh, your body trembling slightly against his.

"It's okay, baby," he whispers, his voice as tender as a lover's caress. "I'll take it slow, just show me where you want me to touch." His hand moves to the hem of your shirt, his touch feather-light as he starts to peel it up, revealing your smooth stomach.

You gasp, your body arching slightly as he presses a gentle kiss to the soft skin just above your navel. His eyes never leave yours, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. He's determined to make this moment perfect for you, to cherish every inch of your body like it's the first and last time he'll ever touch you.

With trembling hands, you grasp Scott's wrist and guide his hand down the length of your body, until it rests at the apex of your thighs. His eyes widen with understanding, and you nod shyly, silently begging him to touch you there. His fingers trace the fabric of your shorts, feeling the heat and dampness emanating from you.

His eyes never leave yours as he gently presses against the seam, eliciting a whimper from your parted lips. The warmth of his palm sends waves of pleasure through you, and you squirm beneath his touch, desperate for more. Scott's eyes darken with desire as he slowly begins to rub the spot that's driving you wild, his thumb making delicate circles that have you biting down on your bottom lip to stifle the moans escaping your throat.

His touch is electric, sending jolts of pleasure to every corner of your body, and you can't help but arch into his hand, silently urging him to continue his sweet torment. Scott's eyes remain locked with yours as he slowly pulls your shirt over your head, his gaze lingering on the way your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath you take. He takes his time, his calloused hands moving with surprising gentleness as he unbuttons your shorts and slides them down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your lacy underwear.

You watch him, your heart racing as you feel his breath against your skin, his hands roaming over you with a mix of reverence and hunger. He leans down to kiss you again, his mouth moving from your lips to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. With trembling fingers, he traces the edge of your panties before his hand settles back between your legs, his touch setting your nerves alight.

You gasp as he gently presses against your dampness, his thumb making slow circles around your clit. The room seems to spin as the intensity of his touch grows, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate for more. His mouth finds yours again, the kiss deepening as his hand works its magic, his thumb applying just the right amount of pressure to send you spiraling towards the edge of pleasure.

"Scott, please," you whimper into his mouth, your hips bucking against his hand. "I need you inside me." Your voice is shaky with desire, your eyes pleading with him to take the final step. His own passion flares up at your words, his eyes darkening even further. He leans back slightly, his hand moving away from your underwear, making you whine in protest.

But he only does it to pull off his shirt, revealing his broad, muscular chest, marred slightly by the bruises from the fight. He reaches down to his belt, his movements jerky with need. "Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. You nod fervently, unable to form coherent words. He smiles, a smug look crossing his face as he undoes his pants, his erection straining against the fabric.

He pulls his boxers down just enough to free himself, his cock standing tall and proud. You bite your lip, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him. He reaches down to touch you again, his fingers slipping under the fabric of your panties, and you arch into his touch, desperate for more. He groans against your neck, his hand moving to the back of your head, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply.

His other hand hooks into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. You're fully exposed to him now, and the vulnerability makes your cheeks flush even redder. But Scott's eyes are full of love and want, and you feel safe, cherished. He kisses you once more, then pulls away, his gaze dropping to your bare skin.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice full of awe. "And all mine." With that, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes in, inch by torturous inch, carefully filling you completely. You cry out, your nails digging into his back as he starts to move, his hips setting a slow, steady rhythm that has you seeing stars.

Each thrust is heaven, his body moving in sync with yours as if you were made to fit together. Scott kisses along your neck as he moves his hand down to cup your cheek, holding you in place as he takes you in. His eyes never leave yours, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but all he sees is the love and desire reflected back at him. His cock stretches and fills you completely, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

He’s so careful, so tender, as if he’s afraid he might break you. His movements are slow and deliberate, each one designed to bring you closer to the edge without pushing you over it too soon. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding back, trying to keep control.

But it’s not just his body that’s on the edge—it’s his heart too. He’s never felt this way before, never been this in love, and he’s afraid of losing you. So he takes his time, savoring every second, every gasp, every shiver that runs through your body as he makes love to you.

As he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, you know that this isn’t just a fling or a fleeting moment—this is something real, something that’s going to last. And for now, all that matters is the feel of him inside you, the sound of his breath in your ear, and the love that’s growing between you with every beat of your heart.

Scott's eyes darken with need as he watches you come apart beneath him, feeling your inner walls tighten around him. He can't hold back anymore. His strokes become more erratic, more desperate, as he chases his own climax. His teeth clench and his hips piston into you as he whispers your name against your skin, his whole body taut with tension.

You're so close, so incredibly close, and the sight of you like this, lost in pleasure, is almost too much for him to handle. He feels your orgasm building, the way your breath catches and your body tenses, and he knows he's not far behind. With one final, powerful thrust, he releases himself inside you, groaning your name as he fills you completely.

The world fades away as you both ride the waves of pleasure, lost in the intimacy of the moment. For a brief second, there's nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing and the feeling of his warmth spilling into you.

With a final, lingering kiss, Scott gently pulls out of you and scoops you up into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling boneless and utterly satisfied as he carries you into the bathroom. The cool air of the room contrasts with the heat still radiating from your bodies.

He sets you down on the edge of the bathtub, the sound of the water filling the small space. He then carefully picks you up again and steps into the shower, holding you tight against his chest as the water cascades over the both of you. The warm water mixes with the sweat on your skin, washing away the evidence of your passionate encounter.

With a sudden surge of desire, you pull Scott closer to you, deepening the kiss as you crave more of his touch. Your hands roam over his slick, soapy back, feeling the contours of his muscles and the warmth of his skin. His own hands move to cup your breasts, kneading gently as the water rains down on you both. The steam in the shower envelops you like a warm embrace, amplifying the sensations as your bodies press against one another.

Scott's kisses become more urgent, his tongue dancing with yours as the warm water runs down your faces. You moan into his mouth, feeling a renewed energy as your passion reignites. He lifts you again, your legs wrapping around his waist, and you can feel his hardness against you. The slickness of the soap makes it easy for you to slide against him, teasing and tempting.

Your breath hitches as he breaks the kiss, looking into your eyes with a fiery gaze that speaks volumes of his love and need for you. "I can't get enough of you, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You whimper as Scott enters you once more, his movements measured and precise. The cold tiles of the shower wall press against your back, sending a shiver down your spine that only adds to the exquisite sensation of him filling you completely. Your legs tighten around his waist, urging him deeper as he starts to move, his hips rocking into yours in a steady, rhythmic motion.

The warm water falling over your bodies mingles with the heat of your passion, creating a steamy cocoon around the two of you. His hands move to your hips, holding you in place as he picks up the pace, his eyes never leaving yours. The love and intensity in his gaze only serve to fuel your desire as you begin to move with him, your bodies in perfect harmony.

Each stroke sends a bolt of pleasure through you, and you can feel yourself inching closer to the brink of ecstasy once more. Your breath comes in short gasps as you lean into him, your mouth finding his in a desperate kiss. His tongue tangles with yours, mimicking the motion of his hips as they drive into you, over and over again.

The water runs in rivulets down your skin, mixing with the slickness of your arousal, creating a symphony of sensations that threaten to overwhelm you. As he deepens the kiss, you can feel his love, his need, his everything, all wrapped up in the tender way he holds you, the possessive way he claims you with every thrust.

Your moans become louder, echoing off the tiles as the pressure builds within you, your orgasm looming just out of reach. And when he finally brings you to the edge, you let go, moaning his name as you shatter in his arms, the warmth of his love surrounding you like the water that drenches your bodies.

Scott’s body tenses, and with a final, powerful surge, he cums into you, his head resting on the tiles next to your neck. The warmth of his release fills you, and his breaths come out in heavy pants against your skin. You hold onto him tightly, feeling the tremors of his climax as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. His arms wrap around you, supporting your weight as your legs slowly unravel from around his waist.

The water from the showerhead runs down your bodies, mixing with the passion that lingers in the air.

Scott's hands are gentle as he helps you clean, his touch tender as he runs a washcloth over your body, removing the stickiness that lingers from your love making. His eyes are filled with a soft adoration that makes your heart flutter in your chest. As the water rinses away the soap, he kisses you again.

The quiet of the bathroom wraps around you, leaving only the sound of your breaths and the occasional drip of water as you stand there, lost in each other's embrace.

The tempest of emotions inside of you only grows stronger as you realize how deeply you've fallen for him. The way he looks at you, the way he touches you, it's all so real, so raw, and so beautifully overwhelming. You can't imagine ever wanting to leave this moment, this cocoon of love and passion that you've created together.

Scott reaches for a towel, wrapping it around you with the same care he's shown since the moment he first touched you. His eyes are filled with a softness that makes your heart swell, and as he dries your skin, you can feel his love in every stroke. His touch is gentle, his gaze lingering on every part of you as if he's memorizing every curve and freckle.

You stand there, soaking in the warmth of the towel and his affection, feeling cherished and desired. The motel room outside the bathroom is forgotten, and it's just the two of you, in this intimate space, sharing something so profound that it feels as if nothing else in the world matters. Each time he wipes away the water, it's like he's also wiping away the stress and the worries that have clung to you, leaving you feeling lighter, cleaner, and more alive than you've ever been.

His hands move over your skin with a tenderness that makes you shiver, he takes his time, ensuring that every inch of you is cared for. When he's done, he wraps the towel around your body and pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he's afraid to let you go. His heart beats against your chest, a steady rhythm that matches the beat of your own heart, reminding you that you're not alone in this, that he's there with you, loving you with everything he has.

And in that moment, you know that no matter what Javi or anyone else might say, you've made the right choice in giving your heart to Scott. You lead him back into the room laying down on the bed with exhaustion.

He lays next to you, pulling you onto his chest. As you lie in Scott’s arms, you feel his hand gently caressing your bare back. The motel room is quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the air conditioning mixed with the soft sounds of your breathing. Scott’s thumb rubs small, soothing circles along your spine, the touch both comforting and sensual. You can feel the firmness of his chest against your cheek, the steady rise and fall of his breath syncing with your own.

The silence is comfortable, a testament to the bond that has grown between you two. You feel safe, cared for, and loved.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty one

authors note: foreshadowing? planted seeds? twists? who knows.

cw/tw: angst, fluff, and drama

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

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“You know we should probably be getting up soon.”

“Probably.”

Solana waits for him to move. He doesn’t, but neither does she. “Ro?”

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t moved.”

He makes a sound, hands shifting just a bit, clearly trying to be mindful of the Saniderm still covering one of her new tattoos. “Neither have you.”

Solana opens her mouth to protest, but she can’t, because he’s right. They’ve been in this position for a good hour now, him laying on top of her, in between her legs, hugging her, head resting comfortably on her chest as she plays with his hair that’s down, free, in its natural state. 

It’s comfortable, to say the least. She enjoys being laid up with him, being close to him, but she also knows that they have a long day ahead of them, a day that can’t start as long as they’re still in bed together.

Even Dulce who snores quietly in her newest princess bed.

“True,” she agrees. “But, I can’t move unless you move, so….”

Roman grunts quietly, adjusting himself on top of her. “I’m not moving.”

“Ro…..”

“How have you been feeling?”

Somehow, Solana knows exactly what he’s referring to despite it being a general, almost vague question. 

“The morning sickness has gotten a little better.” Thank God. That constant feeling of nausea as well as having to vomit every morning was becoming borderline unbearable. “No bleeding….” Her voice lowers. Solana doesn’t really like talking about that situation. Regardless of everything being, hopefully, okay now, it was still a terrifying experience that she’d rather not revisit. 

And something tells her that her husband feels the same way. 

“Good,” he murmurs, hand moving to the side of her, finger moving in absent, shapeless motions. When he says nothing, Solana finds herself giggling, small smile growing on her face. 

“You’re really not gonna move, are you?”

A second of delay. Like he’s really considering it. Like he’s actually going to move. “Naw.”

Rolling her eyes, Solana once again is reminded that as big and strong as her husband can be, he most definitely has his “big baby” moments.

And speaking of baby….

“So, I’ve been thinking—”

“Yes?”

“Until we go public with the pregnancy, or start telling people, if I start to get sick—”

At that, he lifts his head, gaze focused on her. “Sick?”

“Morning sickness,” she clarifies, keeping her hand in his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp. “I need to be able to tell you without….ya know….telling you.” 

He nods. “I agree.”

“So, I came up with something. At least…at least for tonight.” Because keeping this pregnancy a secret for at least the next 2 or 3 months will most likely continue to be a challenge that they have to navigate together. “If I sit on your lap—”

“I like it already.”

She rolls her eyes, ignoring his sly remark. “—and I squeeze your thigh—”

He makes a sound, dipping his mouth to kiss the top of her chest. “I really like that—”

“Then I’m starting to feel sick, and we need to leave.” She bites down on her bottom lip, suddenly unsure if what she’d come up with makes sense. “Is—is that okay?”

Roman chuckles. “Baby, you had me sold at sitting on my lap.” Of course, she did. “Are you sure you want to do this today?” 

This refers to two things. One being meeting and speaking with her biological father, and the second being her informing the rest of her maternal family of their kinship.

She's nervous as shit about both, but she also knows that she needs to do this.

For herself.

"I am," she answers, nodding to herself. "I have to."

He doesn't say anything, and she's grateful. Grateful that even if he doesn't outright agree, he's still being supportive, because that's just who he is to her. A support system.

And it's one of the man reasons she loves him.

When the silence continues, Solana decides to switch gears a little. Take advantage of this time they have together. “Well, since you still haven’t moved….” Her voice is initially teasing before slipping into something more serious. “I know you don’t want me training during this pregnancy, and I agree, but I don’t—I don’t want to stop learning altogether.”

He sighs. “Solana—”

“I want to learn how to shoot,” she cuts him off, unsurprised when he lifts his head to look at her. “I’ve been texting Afia, and she—”

“Afia?” Finally, Roman sits up and moves off her, but it’s not for the reasons she was hoping. “Since when do you talk to her?”

“Ro…..” She’s careful with her words, trying to be respectful of Roman’s boundaries but also recognizing her autonomy. “She’s your brother’s wife. My sister-in-law….” Solana’s hand drops to her stomach. “Their kids will be the girls' cousins. If you….if you aren’t ready to try to build a relationship with Matteo, that….that’s fine, but—I like Afia. She’s nice, and we get along well. And she’s been going to the shooting range, and I wanna go with her.”

Roman looks away, and Solana readies to say something else, but she stops when she sees that he’s clearly deep in thought. Most likely trying to combat logic with emotion. Trying to find a balance between what he wants and what she wants. 

“I don’t know, Sol. I don’t know her well enough to trust you with her.”

“That’s why you’ve gotta trust me,” is her soft response. Solana scoots over to him, holding onto his muscular arm. “Trust my judgment.” Eager to help him further consider her perspective, she points out, “not being able to train at all is going to be hard for me, Ro. I need something.”

It’s already been hard for her. Solana has gotten used to the routine and empowerment that comes with feeling herself grow stronger, psychologically and physically. And sure, once her pelvic rest restrictions are lifted, there’s a small chance she could continue to train, just in a different capacity. However, she doesn’t want to take any chances, and she knows Roman feels the same way.

Thus, this feels like an appropriate substitution. Because truth be told, being his wife, and not even knowing how to properly hold a gun, let alone use it, feels almost like a crime. Solana doesn't like weapons, especially guns, but it feels naive and almost irresponsible to not at least know how to use one.

Even if she prays that day never comes. 

“What if I teach you?” He suddenly suggests, eyes almost hopeful. “If you want to learn, it should be from the best.”

Solana doesn’t doubt that. She’s heard people talk about as such. Not only does Roman excel at hand to hand combat, which she’s seen for herself, his aim is impeccable.

He never misses.

“I’d be okay with that,” she agrees, voice trailing. “But, I want to learn from Afia as well.”

He sighs. “Solana—”

“Just like training with a woman is different from training with a man, I think…I think learning how to shoot might be the same.” Perhaps. She’s not entirely certain, but it leads into her next point. “And, I would just feel better learning from the both of you.” She kisses his shoulder, a small smile forming on her face. “But, if it helps, I really want to learn the spear from you. Only you.”

Solana is relieved to see his small grin as well. “You still on that spear obsession?”

She pouts, defending herself. “It’s not an obsession. It’s just….it seems effective. Like…like a finishing move, almost.” 

When coming from her husband, at least. She’s certain she could never inflict nearly as much damage as he could, largely because of the differing experience. Mostly because Roman is fucking huge. 

Almost 300lbs of pure muscle coming at someone with all that weight and speed?

Yeah….recipe for disaster. 

Or worse.

The thought pattern cause her to ask something she’d heard but hasn’t had a chance to inquire about. “Is it true you ruined someone’s career with a spear? Brock something?”

It’s not missed on her how he tenses a bit. “Yeah. Old college football rivalry that bled into the ring.” Roman scoffs, his hand moving to her knee, thumb caressing her skin. “I’ll admit. Fucker was the most physically challenging opponent I’ve ever faced.” Her eyes widen at that. Roman being challenged by anyone in that way seems and almost feels impossible. “We went at it a couple times, but the last one, I speared him, he went down badly on his right leg, the dominant one, and fucked it up real good. Ended any chance he had at going pro.”

Solana nods, taking it all in. “He wasn’t….he wasn’t in….ya know, the business?” For some reason, it feels almost strange asking about that. Asking about someone’s affiliation, membership, or lack thereof, in the crime world. Mostly because Solana was always left out of these conversations by Xavier, her preference at the time. 

Not necessarily, anymore. 

Roman scoffs, shaking his head. “He tried, but he was a dumbass farm boy who didn’t have the mental capability to make it or be successful." She winces, partially feeling bad. 

Curious, Solana inquires, “whatever happened to him?”

Roman shrugs, answering, “last I heard he bought a shit ton of land and does farming. I don’t know beyond that, and I don’t really fucking care to be honest with you.” Fair and expected for her husband. “What I care about is you and keeping you safe.”

His smooth redirection back to the conversation at hand is impressive, but as is the case with most things Roman Reigns related. “I will be safe, Roman. I just….training also helps me to feel safe, so I need something else to help me with that in the time being.” And when he looks at her, partially concerned, she already knows what he’s thinking. “You always make me feel safe, Ro. The safest I’ve ever felt in my life, but I—I also need to be able to provide that for me. Learning how to fight and defend myself has been so good for me. Please….please let me keep it going.”

Solana watches and waits quietly, allows and prays her words settle into her overprotective husband. She can understand why this could be hard for him, but she hopes his faith and trust in her overpowers any mistrust he might have in Afia.

“Alright,” he acquiesces. “If this is really what you want—”

“It it,” she speaks up, excitement growing at the possibility of his approval. “It really is.”

He runs his hands through his hair. “Then you can do it.” Solana giggles and holds his arm, hugging him. “But, I want Bautista with you at all times—”

“Of course.” An easy thing to agree to, Solana readying to ask Roman why and if Solo will ever return to being included in her personal security detail when he transitions the topic.

“Since we’re talking about shit…” Roman moves off the bed, Solana frowning and watching him walk over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, pulling out two letters that she focuses on as he climbs back on the bed. Handing them both to her, she reads her name on both letter as he shares, “these are for you….”

The confusion grows, weighing down her furrowed brows. “What—what are they?” Her question is premature as she notices the sender. 

Pacific Life

Her frown deepens. 

“What…..”

Roman nods gently. “Open em’.”

Solana still has so many questions, but they’re questions that clearly can only be answered by opening said letters. 

And, that’s exactly what she does.

Solana has always been a quick reader, so it doesn’t take long for her to come to some level of understanding. Pacific Life is clearly a life insurance company, and said letters both say the exact same thing, with the main difference being the names listed on each.

One is Xavier Miller, and the other is Wesley Miller.

And both include checks. 

“Oh my God…..” Solana’s hand slaps over her mouth, her eyes widening as she takes in the amount. The same on both checks.

$15,000,000.00

Wide eyes darting up to her husband, she drops her hand, mouth ajar. “I dont…..what?”

Roman moves his hand to her cheek, voice as gentle as his gaze. “I settled Xavier’s debts to keep them from coming after you—”

Solana’s stomach flips. “Roman—”

“And clearly, Xavier had Wes as his beneficiary for his life insurance policy and vice versa for Wesley. With them both dead and you last of kin, that makes you the beneficiary of both policies."

Nothing he’s saying is any different from what’s included in both letters outside of Roman paying off Xavier’s debt, something she both hates and loves. Hates her husband did anything for that man but recognizes and loves that he did it for her, did it to keep those debts from being sacked onto her.

But, regardless, there’s something so mind-blowing about opening two letters and finding oneself is now thirty million dollars richer.

“I don’t—I can’t—” Her words are choppy, similar to her many, fleeting thoughts. “I don’t want anything from them.”

Roman sighs, his response calm and supportive. “I figured you’d say that, and I respect it. I’ll respect whatever you decide to do.” It’s obvious there’s more, that he has additional thoughts, thoughts that he goes on to share. “But Sol, they put you through hell. You deserve this and so much more. It doesn’t change what happened, but maybe with this, you can do something good.”

Solana listens to him. Listens to the valid points he makes. This money most definitely doesn’t take back any of the horrors she experienced at the hands of those men, but the money….the money could be used for something, as Roman pointed out, good. 

A thought crosses her mind, as she suggests almost tentatively, “Like starting a college fund for the girls?”

Roman’s smile is small and slightly amused. “I don’t think we need to worry about paying for college, Sol.”

Fair. Sometimes, Solana forgets her husband is an actual billionaire.

A similar thought arises. "Or what about my schooling?"

"No." He shoots that down almost immediately. "I'm paying for that for you." Which makes sense, yes, but if she can afford it now with all this money, why not?

Roman shakes his head. “Just take some time and think about it,” his encouragement is gentle. “That and what you want to do with the house, too….”

Her eyebrows furrow. “The house?” Roman says nothing, but the way his expression softens almost sympathetically is all the answer she needs.

“Oh…..” 

The house she grew up in. The house that holds so many memories. Good. Bad. Some unidentifiable space in between. 

Yeah... she most definitely has to think about that.

“Okay.” A quiet, single word of agreement. Roman leans forward and kisses her temple, his hand settling over her stomach. 

His conciliatory touch is conjoined with a gentle, “let’s get ready.”

—----

The meeting with Darnell takes place at a restaurant. One Roman had cleared out just for this reason. A meeting she's instantly regretting the moment she walks in, her husband close by her side.

Her eyes land on the table where the other man sits, nervously bouncing his leg up and down. She takes a brief second to search his face, searching for any signs of similarities.

Nothing stands out to her.

And when they're close enough to him, Darnell also stands up and sets his focus on her, his eyes widening and instantly softening as he takes her in, studying her from top to bottom. Solana diverts her gaze and unconsciously leans into Roman’s solid, protective frame.

“Wow���.” He finally speaks, volume barely above a whisper. “You….you look so much like her.”

Solana says nothing. What once would be considered a compliment is now a thing that only further confuses her muddled emotions. 

He moves to take a step forward, but Roman is already on it. “That’s fucking close enough.”

It’s appreciated, the parameters being set for her as Solana continues to go back and forth with herself regarding if this was a good idea or not. 

The answer changes from moment to moment. 

Disappointment flashes in his face, but he says nothing, simply nodding as he retakes his seat. 

It’s only then Solana speaks again, not to her biological father, but to her husband. Turning around, having to remind herself to be mindful of her interactions with him, she simply states, “I’m okay.”

Roman’s fierce gaze switches from Darnell to herself. An unspoken ‘are you sure?’. She nods, smile small but voice firm. “I’ll be okay.”

Bloodline security surrounds the place. Bautista is right outside the door. Darnell would have to be an idiot to try anything. 

Especially with Roman present. 

Roman’s disagreement is noticeable, Solana opting to place her hand on his chest, quietly repeating, “I’ll be okay.”

And it’s on this final reiteration that it locks and settles in for him. Roman gives her a small nod of acknowledgement, then turns his icy stare on Darnell, an unspoken threat and promise of violence should he try anything.

“I’ll be outside,” Roman informs. She offers him a final, small smile before he disappears, leaving her alone with Darnell. 

Solana takes a deep breath and sits down in the chair opposite him. She doesn’t say anything, and neither does he. Not for a good five minutes at least. 

“How?” It’s a practical whisper followed up with a firmer, “how did you find out?”

Solana looks away, partially unsure why eye contact is so difficult. “I found…I found a letter she wrote me explaining….explaining things.” She’s tempted to say everything but ultimately decides against it, as everything has not been explained, hence why she’s sitting across from the man in front of her.

He nods, eyes searching and studying her. “What—what exactly did she tell you?”

A lot. So much. More than one person should have to process and deal with at any given time. 

Still, Solana does her best to answer his questions, despite the fact that she only asked for this meeting so she could ask her questions. “How….how she met…..Xavier. How…how she met you…..the….the plan—”

“To leave, right?” All she can do is nod, finally looking over at him to see the devastation painted all over his face. “I never—I never found out…how….how he learned of the plan—”

One of her questions suddenly answered without her even asking. It’s not, however, the answer she was looking for. Granted, it’s obvious someone betrayed them. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that much.

“I have to admit. This….this isn’t how I imagined this conversation going.” A quiet admission filled with undeniable sadness and regret.

Curious, Solana inquires, “how—how did you think it would go?”

He shakes his head. “Not like this.”

Silence

"I've waited....waited so long to meet you, to meet my daughter—"

"Please—please don't call me that." A whispered request, one that makes his countenance dim but something needs. It's bad enough she already feels unwell about this whole thing but him referring to her as that, even if true, it just....it feels too soon.

Continued silence until he speaks again, shattering it.

“Solana…..” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “I—” He stops, pulling out his phone, clicking around, turning it so she can see. One look at the screen, and Solana knows right away what she’s looking at. 

Who she’s looking at.

The resemblance is strong and striking. The same smile. Same brown eyes they clearly inherited from her mother. Similar complexions.

This is her brother. 

“This….this is Shawn,” she lifts her gaze from the phone to Darnell who wears a small smile. “This is your brother.” Her eyes shut, as he continues to explain what she most definitely has not asked about. “He’s in his second year of residency. Working to become a pediatrician. He just got engaged—”

And because she can’t take it, can’t hold it in any longer, Solana asks. Has to ask. “Where were you?”

If she was looking at him, she’d see the quick and unmistakable way his smile shifts back into a frown. “What?”

From some place, a place unknown, Solana starts to find her voice. Starts to tap into the reasons and emotions that drove her to schedule this meeting in the first place. “You—you knew about me, right?”

There’s an undeniable sadness in his eyes. “From the moment your mother told me about the pregnancy.”

For some reason, that doesn’t help her to feel any better. To settle the influx of emotions rising within her. “And you—you knew that—that the plan failed, that….that she was killed.”

His eyes shut, and he looks away. A quiet, pained, “yes.”

“But that….that I survived, that….that I was still with him, in that—in that house.” Emotion betrays her, stirring and rising, resulting in choppy sentences that somehow manage to alert the man across from her just where she’s going with this. 

“Solana—”

“So where were you all these years?” A devastating question that needs, deserves, an answer. “Where have you been?” Betrayal paints her face as she issues her next icy question. “Or were you too busy being a dad to the child you wanted?”

There's a good, solid minute of absolute silence as Darnell clearly works to choose the right words.

“Solana, I always wanted you. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in all these years that I haven’t thought about you, thought about trying to get you, but…..sweetheart.” Solana's nails scrape against the table. Something about that nickname doesn't settle right with her. “There was no way for me to try to take you from him that didn’t put you in danger. If he found out who I was, about me, he’d have no doubt either killed me or you. And then what?” A rhetorical question as he shakes his head. “I couldn’t save you without risking—”

“So you just left me there with that monster—”

“I didn’t have a choice, Solana—” His voice is desperate, eyes pleading. “I—I always hoped he would marry you off to someone, and then maybe I could reach out, and he did, but it was to that other monster Roman—”

And that is when Solana's anger reaches a dangerous level.

Her voice is unwavering and borderline threatening. “Don’t you dare talk about my husband.” She points to the door. “He is the first and only man in my life to not hurt me. To protect me. He protects me the way you should have—”

“Solana—”

“But, you didn’t. You left me to the real monster, and then you want to show up after all these years, showing me pictures of the sibling that I never knew I had, the sibling who I’m sure you gave a good life to, meanwhile, I spent over twenty years in hell—”

“Sol—”

“Do you know how bad it was for me?” Her throat is heavy and chest feels weighed down. “The things—the things they did to me—” Solana's voice breaks. “The things he let people do to me—”

“Sweetheart...." To be fair, Darnell looks sympathetic, but his explanations somehow contrasts that. Seems invalidating. Justifying. "I couldn’t risk losing you, too." He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "If I tried to take you from him, he would have killed y—"

“Being dead would have been better than being in that house!” It’s a dark, heavy thing to say, but it’s how she feels. Or, maybe it’s how she feels in this moment. To be fair, she’s feeling a lot of things. A lot of confusing, conflicting, overwhelming things. It’s too much. 

This is all too much.

She thought she was ready. She wanted to be ready, but it’s evident by the way her face is warming up and her chest is tightening that she was wrong.

“I can’t do this,” she finally announces. Solana looks over at Darnell whose shoulders drop at her exclamation. “I—I can’t do this right now.”

Solana moves to stand up, but so does he. He also reaches across the table, his hand just centimeters away from touching her. “Solana, please—”

“I—I can try on a different date, but—but—this—it’s too—it’s too much.” She shakes her head, closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a deep breath. It’s only then she recognizes where this is headed. She’s on the path to a panic attack, and for so many reasons, primarily the two lives growing inside of her, she has to get the hell out of dodge. 

Darnell circles around the table and finally makes contact, grabbing her forearm. Solana is taken back by the fact that she doesn’t panic or jump at the action, that him touching her doesn’t elicit another layer of anxiety.

Still, she requests, “let me go.”

His voice is dripping with desperation. “Ten minutes. I’m just asking for ten—”

“—let me go.”

“—please. I’ve waited for so long—”

“Let me go.”

“—if you—”

“Roman!” 

It practically defies logic and the science of how time works, because one minute she’s shouting for her husband, a natural thing that comes to her in the space of this fear, and the next, he’s back in the room, roughly barking at her father to get away from her. Solana reaches for Roman, grabbing his arm, redirecting his attention back to her instead of Darnell who’d stepped back, hands up in a defensive manner. 

“I just wanna leave,” she whispers, Roman moving his hands to her face, clearly assessing for any sign of injury. “P–please.”

Roman nods, ushering her out of the restaurant, but not before he issues a cold, steel warning to Darnell. 

“Stay the fuck away from her.”

Solana doesn’t know if she agrees with that. If she wants, overall, for Darnell to leave her alone. There’s still so much for them to discuss, but as of right now, mentally, it’s not something she’s ready for. Not something she can handle. So, for now, distance is the best thing.

Only time will tell if that changes. 

—-------

Solana is dangerously close to calling off the whole thing. From backing away from the plan to inform the rest of Bayley/her family of the kinship. The meeting with Darnell messing with her so much that Roman has to stay with her for the rest of the afternoon given her spiked anxiety. He’d asked if she needed him to call Gayle for an appointment, but she turned it down, leaning on her coping skills learned in therapy as well as his support.

She’s not entirely sure what she expected to hear or how the meeting would go, but her reaction and how deeply it impacted her definitely took her by surprise. And, if she’s being completely honest with herself, anxiety isn’t the only emotion that came out of that meeting.

Jealousy.

Jealousy is something she also left with, jealousy that a sibling, her twin, of all people got to live a normal life. Probably got to do all of the normal things that kids should be able to do. Darnell probably taught him how to ride a bike.

Xavier once pitched hers into the street and rolled it over in front of her because she didn’t clean the house “good enough.”

He probably got to have playdates with friends.

Solana went to maybe one or two, each one ending with Xaxier screaming at and beating her mom for allowing her to do so.

He probably went to homecoming and prom.

Solana spent both of those in the ER from injuries sustained from Xavier and Wes’s beatings.

He’s a doctor.

Solana is just going for her bachelors at 29.

There’s just so much unfairness. Her twin lived the best life while she was stuck in the depths of hell.

And no, it’s not his fault, because he was a child just like her. But, that doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s jealous that this sibling received the life she deserved and angry at her father for not saving her and giving her that same kind of life. 

“Hey.” Bayley’s kind voice and soft voice pull Solana from her inordinate thoughts. “You still thinking about that meeting?”

Solana nods. Hard not to. “It just….it wasn’t what I hoped it would be.”

Bayley presses her lips together before offering. “I get that, and I hate that for you, too, but just because that didn’t go well, doesn’t mean that this won’t.” She places down the brush she was using to set Solana’s face with powder. “Solana…” Bayley joins their hands, eye contact unwavering. “You are family. They’re not going to be upset or deny you or turn you away. They’ll have questions, maybe, sure. But, it’s not going to be this massive, hurtful thing. If I had any feeling it would be anything but accepting, I would be trying my damn hardest to talk you out of this. But, I don’t, so I’m not.” Bayley lifts one hand to touch up an unruly strand that’s shifted from the bangs she cut for her cousin not even an hour earlier. "Everything's going to be okay.”

The words are helpful. Immensely. And so greatly appreciated. More than Bayley could ever know. Especially following the day Solana has had.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Solana also manages a smile. “It—it means a lot to me.”

Bayley makes a sound. “Don’t mention it, prima.” Bayley grabs the brush once more, dusting it over Solana’s nose before assessing her work. “I must say, while the canvas is breathtaking, I do some damn good work.” She steps to the side allowing Solana a final view of the finished product. “What do you think?”

Solana thinks and feels a lot of things looking at her reflection.

Different.

It looks and feels like a different person. The bangs framing her forehead, brushing the top of her eyebrows and somehow highlighting the beautiful gold eye look Bayley did for her. Bayley’s magic continues and spreads from the highlight atop her cheek, the red lipstick on her full lips, even to the red, floral dress Solana is wearing. Initially something she thought a bit too revealing but something her cousin talked her into.

The emotion is undeniable as she finds herself almost unable to look away from herself. “I love it.” She turns to Bayley, standing up from the chair and pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll invoice that rich ass husband of yours.” Bayley’s comments makes Solana laugh and helps her to push back the tears. She can’t ruin this stunning face. “Speaking of….”

The two break apart, and Solana sets her gaze on her husband who’s just walked in. 

Naturally, she studies the way his eyes widen slightly when he sees her. “Damn…”

Giggling, Solana walks over to him and moves her hands to his chest, asking almost nervously, “do you like it?”

She hadn’t told him about the plan to modify her dyed hair yet again by cutting bangs, wanting to surprise him. He just thought she was going to Bayley’s salon for the two to get ready together. And while that definitely happened, this happened as well.

“I love it,” he finally answers, his eyes sweeping her over. “You look beautiful, Sol.” It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, it never gets old. Never fails to make her heart swell and stomach flutter. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and turns her head when he goes to kiss her, reminding with a giggle, “don’t mess up my makeup!” 

He makes a sound and kisses her neck, murmuring, “I’d mess up a hell of a lot more if I could.” His big hand snakes down to grab her ass, prompting her to lightly push on his chest. 

“Behave,” she scolds, unable to deny there’s a part of her that feels the same. Pelvic rest is absolutely necessary, at least for another week or two, but the lack of that type of intimacy between them, the inability to have it has been….something, to say the least. 

Needing a distraction, she turns to Bayley while speaking to Roman. “She did an amazing job, didn’t she?”

However, it’s only then Solana sees the way Bayley rolls her eyes, not at her statement, but at Roman who is also now looking with utter boredom. 

Shoulders dropping, Solana realizes it’s time to address this issue. 

“Guys.” She pulls away from Roman, crossing her arms over her body. “This has to stop.” She looks between them. “I love you both, and I know—I know what happened was hard, and I’ll never stop being sorry for putting you two in that position, but—” She looks at Roman, “Bayley is my cousin,” she then switches her gaze to Bayley, “Roman is my husband.” She shakes her head, asserting, “neither of those facts are going to change. Ever. So, I want, I need you two to drop this. I need us all to be family.” Realizing that may be too much, at least for now, she compromises, “at least be cordial.” An assessing gaze between the two of them reveals some crumbling of steel resolve, prompting her to pull out that card. “For me?”

That does it, both Bayley and Roman looking away, revealing her final play’s success. “Fine.” Bayley is the first to speak. “I’ll try to be nicer to him.”

Roman looks like he’s almost in physical pain as he forces out a steel, “same.” 

Bayley scoffs. “Like you know how to be nice to anyone other than Sol—”

“Don’t fucking push it—”

“Guys,” Solana cuts in, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please.”

Muttered, reluctant ‘sorry' from both of them as she shakes her head. There’s still a ways to go, but it’s a start. 

One issue tackled. Sort of.

Another major one left to go.

—------

Sitting in front of them shouldn’t be so intimidating. Shouldn’t have her tapping her foot on the floor, her attention briefly diverting to thoughts of Roman. To wondering if she should have had him stay instead of standing outside. Solana does her best to remind herself of why she initially told him that. She can do this and is capable, and she doesn’t need her husband right beside her to feel his support.

Especially when she’s got Bayley right next her.

“Thank you for—for meeting with me.” The second meeting of the day, this one, hopefully, going much better than the one from earlier. “I—I don’t know how much Bayley told you.”

Juanita offers a small smile. “Just that you needed to speak with us about something….in private.” She gestures around the vacant restaurant, the only other bodies present are the ones back in the kitchen, preparing for the night’s event.

Santos says nothing, his gaze watchful and studying. Bayley’s recommendation for him to be included and invited to this “reveal” was something she was unsure about, Roman definitely against, but something she eventually agreed to given Bayley’s valid points. He’s technically Solana’s cousin too, Melina’s partner and the father of their child, not to mention the tension that exists between him and Roman. With all the connections they share, prior to even officially meeting, it makes sense to start easing into that transition now. 

And truth be told, from the moment Santos walked into the restaurant and shook her hand and just from the little she’s seen, Solana can see why he and Roman don’t get along. It’s probably the same reason Roman is indifferent, borderline hostile to his brother. 

They’re too much alike. 

Santos exudes a strong, commanding, almost mysterious presence similar to her husband. But, there’s that almost charismatic element to him that reminds her of Matteo. 

She can only hope the three of them being under the same roof tonight won’t bring about anything bad. 

Returning to the conversation at hand, at Juanita’s statement, Solana nods and nervously clears her throat. “I’m sorry if it was any inconvenience—”

“Not at all,” Bernardo dismisses with a wave of his hand. “We are curious what this is about though.”

A fair statement. One Solana knows only she can handle.

She takes a deep breath. “I—I love to write. I—I always have. It’s—it’s something I inherited from my mother. We used to—we used to write to each other all the time.” Solana prepares to take another deep breath when Bayley places a comforting hand on her knee. Solana offers a small, appreciative smile. 

It’s the subtle, non-verbal reminder she needs. 

She nods to herself. “It’s—it’s a long story, but I was….I was sorting through her journals and putting them away in my library at my home, and I—I came across a letter she wrote me before—” Emotion catches her, Solana’s voice wavering slightly. “Before she was killed.”

Her fingers taps against the exposed skin on her thigh, as if going to reach for the letter. A letter she opted to not share in its entirety. Just the portions that confirm her mother’s true identity. 

Solana then moves to grab the papers out of her purse, handing them over. In a low voice, she directs, “you—you can read for yourselves.” 

All three wear confused expressions, but Bernardo is the one to accept the two pages, Santos and Juanita nearing closer to also gain visual access. 

Meanwhile, Solana goes to pick at the material of her dress when Bayley shifts her hand, placing it over hers. Another nod of support, her warm brown eyes converting every bit of, “it’s going to be okay.”

Solana squeezes her hand, telling herself the same thing. 

It’s going to be okay. 

A minute or two passes before the first sound of response. 

“Mio Dios…..” It’s Bernardo, and he has a closed fist covering his mouth as his wide, emotional eyes lift to Solana. “You’re Alma’s daughter?”

Juanita gasps, eyes watering. “She had a child?”

Santos looks between her and the letter, as if trying to make the connection. “How? Is it—is it just you? Are there any other children she had?”

It’s difficult to breathe, let alone respond, but Solana finds it in her to do so. “I—I apparently have a twin brother—” More gasps of shock, as she explains, “I don’t—I didn’t know until the letter. There’s a lot more in there, and it’s all so confusing, and I know it’s a lot just what you read, so if you need time—”

“No.” Again, Bernardo is the one to speak, his tone firmer. “For years, we’ve wondered what happened to my niece. Ricardo—he died of a broken heart after losing your mother, he died not knowing what happened to his only daughter. We’ve all lived with that grief, and now here you are, have been here all this time….” He stops, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry we didn’t—we couldn’t do anything to help her. To help you.”

It’s an unexpected ending that has her eyes watering. Solana replies with just as much emotion. “You—you didn’t know.”

“But, we know now,” Juanita says, wiping at her eyes. “And now that we have you, that we know who you really are….” She stops, laughing a little, “well, I can’t even call you newfound family, cause you’ve already become that for us.” Solana sniffles, not even realizing she herself has started crying. Juanita's eyes widen as she looks over at her husband. “Paloma—”

He closes his eyes, going to speak again. “Your grandfather, my brother, is no longer with us, but his widow is. Paloma—”

“I know,” Solana interrupts in a quiet voice, unsurprised at their shocked expressions. “My–my husband took me to Isla Mujeres for my birthday a couple months ago, and I—I actually met her.” Her voice breaks again, Solana blotting at her eyes as Bayley hugs her from the side. “I—I haven’t told her because—because I’m scared, and I—I didn’t know if you guys would accept me or believe me.”

“Accept you?” Bernardo echoes. Solana watches as he stands up from his chair and walks over, extending a hand. Unconsciously, she stands up, Bayley releasing her, as Solana accepts it. He gives a small squeeze. “Solana, you are family. My great niece. Mi familia.” 

What happens next is unexpected, and months prior, could have easily sent Solana spiraling and triggered the absolute hell out of her.

Bernardo pulls her into a hug, holds her, his hand cradling the back of her head. And Solana doesn’t panic, doesn’t freeze, doesn’t feel triggered. She feels safe. The comforting, almost parental, fatherly embrace is all so unfamiliar but nice.

It’s such an interesting dichotomy. With Darnell, Solana found explanations. With Bernardo and company, she’s finding empathy. Sympathy. And it’s not really until this moment that she’s realizing maybe she wasn’t looking for answers from her biological father as much as she was looking for comfort. For validation. 

For this.

Pulling away, she wipes at her eyes, laughing when Juanita pulls her into a hug that’s even tighter. 

Motherly.

Releasing her, Juanita blots at Solana’s eyes as Santos crosses his arms, taking in the sight.

“So, the great Solana Reigns all my family kept raving about is actually also family,” he says with a small chuckle. Solana turns to him, lips pressed together, listening and watching closely. “Well, welcome to the Escobar family.” His eyes narrow just a bit. “You know what this also means, right?”

“No.” Solana gasps, turning around to see her husband whose intense gaze is on Santos, Bayley standing not too far behind him with her arms crossed. She'd clearly went to get him, to invite him back inside. “Tell me.”

Naturally, Solana walks over to Roman, holding onto his arm, his gaze never once leaving Santos. 

Bayley's cousin, err, Solana’s cousin, however, doesn’t even bother to look Roman’s way. “You’re an Escobar. That means you're under the protection of the Legado Del Fantasma. The Cartel as well.”

Solana frowns. She’s heard through Bayley and even brief mentions from Jimmy and Jey about the Legado Del Fantasma, but the Cartel? That’s…..news to her, to say the least. But juxtaposed to her confusion is Roman’s anger. 

Solana has to subtly tighten her grip on his arm as he moves forward, growling, “Solana is Bloodline.”

“She’s Bloodline by marriage,” Santos corrects, swiftly. “She’s Del Fantasma by blood.” 

Bayley steps forward, breaking her silence and also the pending standoff. “So basically, Solana has protection on both sides. Through family and marriage." 

It’s such a strange thing. To go from being unprotected and subjected to all kinds of horrors for years into this space where the protection is abundant. Being told she is under the protection of two of the most feared crime syndicates in this hemisphere, maybe the world, is….something, to say the least. 

“She doesn’t need your protection,” Roman cuts in, his voice steel, Solana wishing she could do more to comfort and calm him right now. “I don’t need anyone’s help to keep my wife safe.” 

Thankfully, the role of peacemaker is taken up by her tía.

Juanita speaks up. “Let us not do this right now. This is a happy occasion. I won’t have it ruined by ego and pride.” She looks between Roman and Santos. “We will have a nice, celebratory night.”

It’s the ‘celebratory’ that reminds Solana of her stipulation, if you will. “I—I’d prefer this…this stay between us.” She motions around the room, adding, “until I—I can tell Paloma.”

Bernardo nods, agreeing. “It shall remain between us, sobrina nieta.”

The term. Great niece. It warms Solana’s soul, returns the smile on her face.

Familia. 

Family.

—--------

Roman feels out of place.

Truth be told, he’s always felt a bit out of place. But, especially in this setting, because as guests arrive and as Solana socializes and speaks with what she now knows to be her family, he just sits at the table, watching and surveying. A normal thing for him, especially considering none of these people are his friends and family. 

Except then Jimmy and Naomi arrive, Naomi invited by Bayley and Jimmy naturally tagging along. And that initial exchange is awkward, but Jimmy reminds Roman that while he has his moments, he knows when to leave shit at the door.

“I know a lot is going on, but tonight ain’t about that.” Was Jimmy’s “surrender” statement of the evening. 

Before he went to go see what food he was ordering. 

Some things never change.

Regardless, Roman feels a bit better seeing Dwayne, is slightly surprised to see Ava, who’d he previously spoken to and settled his issues with regarding her interference. But, it’s when Matteo arrives with his wife and children that it really hits Roman.

Two boys and a little girl. His biological niece and nephews. And Roman hasn’t a single fucking clue how to feel about that, doesn’t know what to feel seeing the way Matteo is attentive to both his wife and kids while still maintaining that dangerous aura about him.

He smiles and even laughs with his little girl, slaps his wife’s ass, and high fives his sons all while never coming across as weak.

He balances it all so well from the outside looking in, something Roman feels at a complete loss to.

Especially as he watches his wife. Solana, kind and loving, is all smiles and laugh. Matteo’s children seem to naturally gravitate to her, same with the other children in attendance. Like Melina and Santos son. Another business man who manages to tend to his family while maintaining his reputation. 

Meanwhile, Roman can’t even think about fatherhood without feeling all fucking weird.

It’s miserable.

And, it’s not even just them, even fucking Jimmy is going around the restaurant calling people “cousin this” and “tia that.” People he met less than an hour ago. Is singing some Selena song on karaoke with Bayely and Solana even though he doesn't know a lick of Spanish and sounds like Lucille fucking Ball.

Still, he just blends. 

They all do.

Jimmy.

Matteo.

Dwayne and Ava even, striking up conversations with people.

And Roman is just…..there.

And that’s when the overthinking hits him. Is this how it’s going to be for him as a father? This emotionally unavailable person who can’t even connect with people on a basic level. Who has to rely and depend on his wife to fulfill his kids; emotional needs, cause Lord knows he can’t.

Solana even tries to get him to dance with her, comes to sit on his lap and talk with him for a few minutes. And he declines in the subtle way he must use to avoid giving off any indication of what she means to him. And she understands, he knows she does, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 

Especially when he sees Matteo dancing with his wife, sees Solana playfully interacting and dancing with his biological niece. People she just fucking met and is already almost bonded with. 

Something Roman is starting to think he can never have or achieve.

Even with his own children. 

Stepping away is a bit of necessity. He needs to not be surrounded by it all, by the taunts and reminders. 

Reminders of what he can never have. 

Roman stands outside, in the back patio portion of the restaurant, leaning against the brick wall, thoughts all over the damn place. 

“I know your ass is getting old, and I’m just over the hill, but even I know all the fun is happening inside.”

Dwayne’s voice, playful and teasing, pulls Roman from his thoughts as he looks over at his cousin who sports a beer in one hand. 

Roman chuckles, looking off over the terrace. “You know this isn’t my setting.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Dwayne assesses, knowingly. He steps closer, asking, “why?”

An easy answer. “You really think I was about to let her be here by herself? Around Escobar?” 

That’s another thing sitting on and weighing on him. He’s happy Solana has discovered her family. She deserves that. He’s just unsure how he feels about Solana suddenly belonging to and, rightfully, having protection from an organization he can’t control.

He’d heard whispers that Legado Del Fantasma was rooted in the Cartel, that there were connections there, some even being through Santos father. But, the Cartel has always been notorious about keeping identities for certain factions and members a secret. Helps them keep an advantage. 

Similar to the Bloodline. 

But, hearing it confirmed is something different, and Roman is now wishing he’d have not pushed off those meetings with Cartel representatives to see about forming an alliance or something of the sort.

It sure as hell would be helpful right about now. 

Dwayne makes a face. “According to Jimmy, that’s her family though.”

At that, Roman’s gaze hardens. “What?” 

Dwayne chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “Don’t worry. He told me not to tell anyone.”

“I’m trying to figure out how the fuck he kn—” Roman stops himself, pinching his nose. It’s always something. “Yes, turns out Solana and Bayley are—”

“Cousins, right?”

Ava’s voice cuts in at the same moment Roman’s blood pressure skyrockets. 

“How the fuck do you know?” He asks, already knowing the damn answer. 

Ava shrugs, also with a beer in hand. “Jimmy.” Roman looks away, absolutely needing to count to ten to keep from killing his damn cousin. “But, don’t worry, he told me—”

“Not to tell anyone. Yeah, I know.” Roman runs his hand over his face, needing to count to ten, something Lita had brought up to help when his anger starts to rise. It sounded stupid as hell at the time but may be necessary at this moment.

 This is why he fucking hates people. 

Ava rolls her eyes. “Look, I’m only out here cause Solana asked me to check on you.”

Dwayne makes a sound. “She asked me, too.”

Hearing that somehow calms Roman a bit, reminds him of why he needs to get his shit together. For Solana. Tonight is supposed to be about and for her. She doesn’t need to be worrying about him, especially in her condition. 

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Ava and Dwayne say in sync. Roman rolls his eyes. The two of them at one time is a kind of stressor he doesn’t need right now. He appreciates them both, but he’ll always appreciate solitude more. 

Especially when he needs to think.

Especially….especially when he doesn't have Fetu to talk to any more. 

“Just thinking about shit,” is the answer Roman settles on. It’s not very telling. At all. But, it’s an answer nonetheless. 

“Well, can’t say we didn’t try.” Ava shrugs, sipping more of her beer as she lowers her voice. “Hey, what’s the update on the…..ya know?”

No. Roman doesn’t know, and he asks as such. “What?”

Ava sucks her teeth and punches him on the arm. “Don’t be a dumbass. You know what I’m talking about.” His face must indicate his continued confusion as she murmurs something in Samoan. “For Solana?”

At the same time, both Dwayne and Roman are clued in.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Dwayne says first, rolling his shoulders. “You still gotta let me know the dress code.”

“Anything but white. Duh.” Ava suddenly second guesses herself, looking over at Roman for approval. “Right?”

Roman’s answer is multifaceted. “I don’t know.” And before his annoying ass cousins can get on his ass, he clarifies. “I don’t—I don’t know if I’m still doing it.”

Both wear shocked expressions, but Dwayne is the first to comment. “The fuck you mean you’re not doing it? You have to, brother.”

Ava’s expression softens. “Roman, you know….you know it’s what Fetu would want.”

Roman looks away, knowing. Knowing that Ava is right. Fetu was so excited to attend, to be a part of it, and while her absence will kill him, he also knows his aunt would probably take a break from terrorizing people in the afterlife to haunt him if he doesn't go through with it. 

“I will. I just….I think I have to change the timeline.” 

“Change the timeline?” She shakes her head, protesting. “No. Roman, the dates you chose are literally perfect. What’s better than Christmas and Valentine's Day?”

Dwayne gestures to Ava with his thumb. “She’s right. Women love that romantic shit.”

Roman closes his eyes, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he mulls over what he’s about to say, if he should. He knows what Solana said, but something tells him she wouldn’t care in this moment. That she’d be okay with it.

Which is why he goes on and says it. 

“Solana’s pregnant.” 

A loud gasp from Ava and dropped mouth from Dwayne. “Oh my God, seriously?” Ava asks in a voice of almost awe. “Holy shit, Roman, congratulations.”

A strange sense of pride fills him at the response, a stark contrast to the confused, conflicting feelings he has towards everything else regarding this pregnancy. 

“It’s about goddamn time,” Dwayne claps him on the shoulder, pointing out, “was starting to worry you were going to fuck up our family’s reputation for being fertile as fuck.”

Roman rolls his eyes. “This coming from the man who swore off kids.”

Dwayne shrugs. “Ehh. My offspring are better served swallowed.”

Roman cracks a small smile as Ava looks utterly disgusted.

“I fucking hate men,” she spits, glare switching to something inquisitive. “How far along is she?”

“Two months,” Roman answers. Solana is closer to three months than anything, but that specific of an answer seems unnecessary. “But, I don’t—I don’t know if she’ll want to do that while pregnant.”

Ava seems to be doing the math Roman himself did when coming to his decision. “I mean, if she’s two months now, she’ll be due in May, and if you do it in February, that’ll put her at like, what, six months?” Ava shrugs. “She’ll definitely be showing, but—”

“It’s—” Roman cuts in, unsure why his voice is low, weighed down with something indistinguishable. “Twins. She’s—she’s having twins.”

Ava’s eyes double in size. “Oh shit, okay.”

Dwayne makes a low whistle sound. “Two at the same fucking time? Your ass is about to be knee deep in baby shit and piss.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Ava dismisses, voice switching to something more serious again. “I can get why you’re thinking of putting it off, but honestly….I think you should still stick with the original plan and timeline. Pregnant or not, Solana is gonna love it, regardless.”

He says nothing, trying to push away the negative, doubtful thoughts. When the idea first came to him, while he was trying to figure out what to do for her birthday, he was certain of it. Certain that it would definitely be something she’d appreciate. And as he worked out the specifics, bouncing ideas off Fetu, even Ava, navigating the logistics with Dwayne, it all seemed to be coming together almost perfectly.

And then things started to fall apart and unravel, and while they’ve been working hard to put everything back together. There’s still work to be done, and progress to be made. 

A pregnancy.

That’s really the biggest thing that’s had Roman second-guessing himself. If Solana would still be as happy and appreciative if he were to do this while she’s with child, and there’s always going to be some doubt, but Ava’s words help to settle some of the indecision. 

A lot of it, actually.

“I’ll think about it,” is the answer he settles on. “You already know this shit—”

“Stays between us,” Dwayne finishes. “Well aware.” There’s a gleam in his eyes, something similar to concern. “Are you sure you’re al—”

“Hey.”

The cousins are interrupted by another voice, another person. Matteo. 

And he looks irritated.

“You might want to get in here.”

There’s something about Matteo’s expression and the almost concern in his voice that makes Roman the first to head that way, his cousins shortly behind him. 

His stride is purposeful, the Tribal Chief heading back into the restaurant where he immediately sees and knows why Matteo called for his attention.

“Son of a bitch…..”

Roman is focused solely on his wife, on the way she's almost sandwiched between Naomi, Afia, Bayley, and now Ava, all of the women watching closely as Jimmy stands in front of Jey, arms up as if trying to block him from entering farther into the restaurant. 

And it’s as Roman gets closer, he can see why Jimmy is trying to restrict his twin. 

The smell of liquor radiates off Jey’s frame. Once in the vicinity, Roman doesn’t have time to acknowledge his wife who he can feel looking at him. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Jey?” Roman’s question is calmly and coldly delivered, his fist at his side clenching and unclenching because what the fuck?

Jey’s glazed eyes fall on him as he makes a sound. “Ah,h shit, there he is, Mr. Tribal Chief himself.”

Jimmy glances at Roman. “I got this, Roman.”

“Obviously, you don’t,” Roman snaps, refocusing on Jey. “You need to leave.”

Now. Immediately. He shouldn’t even be there in the first damn place.

Jey makes a sound and snatches his arm away from Jimmy. “Man, I ain’t going nowhere. This some b–bullshit. Ya’ll tryna—tryna ice me out and shit!”

“Jey.” Roman turns to see Solana has stepped forward, Afia and Bayley both watching Roman's drunk ass cousin the whole time, as if wanting to see if he’s going to do anything. Protectively, almost. Naomi, however, just looks so frustrated with it all. Understandably so. “That’s not—”

“Oh look!” Jey’s volume increases. “It’s—it’s the queen herself! The one who—who started all this shit!” He smiles and laughs, Roman rolling his neck, sensing Matteo and Dwayne who now stand closely behind him. Also protectively. “Shit, Soso, I used to think—to think me and you was—was cool.”

“That’s enough, man,” Jimmy’s stern voice is conjoined with him once again trying to guide his brother out the restaurant. “This ain’t the time or place.”

“It certainly isn’t.” Santos joins in, Roman not missing the men that move behind him, clearly ready and waiting. He looks over at Roman, nodding, “get him out of here, or we will.”

It’s a threat. Obviously. Clearly. And Roman can’t even be upset with it. Jey coming on neutral territory trying to start some shit is unacceptable. 

Embarrassing

“I ain’t going n–nowhere—”

“The hell you aren’t.” Roman turns to see Dwayne walking past him, bypassing Jimmy as he aggressively grabs Jey by the collar of his shirt. “You’re fucking embarrassing yourself, Jey.”

Jey’s inebriation is even more evident as he goes to take a poorly aimed swing at Dwayne who easily dodges as such, instead taking the opportunity to spin Jey around and start pushing him out. “Let’s go,” he barks, Jimmy moving behind him, trying to talk some sense into his hotheaded twin.

“Man! Fuck ya’ll! I got something for all ya’ll asses!”

It’s that last sentence that makes Roman’s jaw clench. Whatever leash Jey had on his temper all these years has clearly been dropped. Roman hasn’t seen his cousin this reckless since they were in their twenties. 

But, as soon as Santos steps forward, inches away from Roman, Matteo moving to stand directly beside his brother, Roman already knows what’s about to be said. “Anything fucking happens on this territory—”

“I’ll handle it,” Roman asserts. He’s pissed, livid, and not even at the man before him. Santos is doing what anyone in that position would do. Reminding a potential enemy what potential consequences await should anyone be stupid enough to try anything.

Someone stupid like Jey.

Santos simply nods, saying something in Spanish causing his men to disperse. 

“Jey’s becoming a problem.” Matteo speaks in Italian, clearly wanting the umbrella of privacy. Roman turns to look at him. “This can’t continue.”

Roman hates being told what he already knows, but there’s something in this that makes him simply agree. “I know.”

“Roman.” He looks down to see Solana now on the other side of him, realizes she’s holding onto his arm, looking up with eyes that give away what she wants before even saying anything. “Let’s go. home”

And just like that, the anger slips into guilt. Guilt that what was supposed to be a nice night for her has turned into this shitshow. Looking around, he sees the crowd has dispersed, Naomi nowhere to be seen as Bayley and Afia talk amongst themselves. The band resumes the music, and it appears as if they’re trying to resume like nothing happened. But, something did happen, and it’s ruined whatever enjoyment Solana was having.

Fuck.

“Solana—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupts, voice low and almost subtle. God, he fucking hates this. “Let’s—let’s just go….please.”

It’s that last word that pulls him over. “Alright.”

She gives a small nod of appreciation and turns to walk away, clearly to tell everyone goodbye, starting with Bayley and Afia and the latter’s kids who have come hovering near their mother.

“So….” Matteo speaks again, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you going to handle this?”

Roman just looks at him and says nothing. 

He says nothing because he has no idea. 

He has no idea how he’s going to handle this. 

—----------

The drive home is mostly silent, not much conversation transpiring between husband and wife. Once in the safety of their humble abode, Solana works to get Dulce settled as Roman heads straight to the shower, eventually finding himself sitting outside, wanting, almost needing the distraction of the beautiful night sky.

But, it’s after Solana has also showered, she finds and joins him on the balcony of their master bedroom. Wordlessly, she climbs onto his lap, hands to his face, her eyes and voice pleading. “Talk to me.”

Roman closes his eyes, saying nothing, prompting her to clarify, “and don’t try to say it was the Jey situation. You….you were off before that even happened.”

“It didn’t help,” he mutters. An honest thing. Roman needs to figure something out, because Jey’s behavior tonight was unacceptable. It was embarrassing. Embarrassing to him, but more importantly, embarrassing to the Bloodline.

And as the Tribal Chief, Roman can’t have that. Thus, he needs to find a way to resolve this shitshow. And fast. 

He opens his eyes, looking directly at her. “Solana—”

“Roman.” Her voice is firmer, her gaze never leaving him. “The truth.”

It’s difficult to lie to her. Always has been. It was just what he felt he needed to do at certain points, but in this moment, in a stark contrast to prior ones, he almost doesn’t want to. He wants to get this off his chest. 

So, he does.

With a heavy sigh, Roman does his best to explain all of the many things he’s been feeling the past few weeks. “Solana, I don’t—I don’t know how to do it.”

She frowns, her thumb brushing over the apple of his bearded cheek. “Do what, baby?”

His jaw tightens. “Be a father.”

Roman sees it. Sees the way her shoulders drop, sees the sadness in her eyes. “Ro….”

“I watched you tonight. I watched how you…..you connected with everyone. Connected with the kids. It’s—natural for you.” Roman closes his eyes, the words continuing to roll out almost autonomously from this place of rare vulnerability. “You’re a good person, Solana. You—you have a heart. A big heart. You were made to be a parent. A mother. I don’t—I don’t think I was made to be—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, her voice a perfect mixture of emotion and conviction. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that, Ro.” Her eyes are watering as she gives him an emotional smile. “Roman, you have a heart, too. A big heart. You just….you’re not allowed to show it as much as I do, not in public at least, because of who you are. But, I see it all the time, I feel it all the time when we’re together.” She shakes her head, moving her hand to push back some of his hair. “I always feel so loved with and by you, and that’s exactly what our girls are going to feel.”

He swallows. “Solana—”

“What kind of father are you in your dreams?”

A valid, fair question that takes him back. Roman starts to protest, starts to push back on her, but there’s a fiery determination in her gaze that tells him doing so won’t do anything but make her push back on him even more.

He thinks about it, finally answering, almost reluctantly. “Fine.”

“Bullshit.” Another taken back expression. It feels almost wrong to hear his sweet, innocent wife curse, but she does so without hesitation. “They adore you, don’t they?” He says nothing, sensing she’s not done. “Always want to be around you, and Lina wants to be just like you, huh?”

Right away, he’s hit with flashes of scenes from the collections of dreams he’s had. Smiles. Laughter. Love. All things from two small children who are the perfect combination of himself and Solana. 

Twin girls. 

Their girls.

Catalina and Cataleya Reigns. 

But as quickly as that arrives, reality sets in.

Despite the turmoil within, his hand on the small of her back continues to rub soothing circles that do more for him than her. “Solana, those are just—they’re just dreams.”

“No.” She shakes her head, voice softening to another level. “They’re visions. Visions of our future. Of the lives we’re going to have. Of the family we’re going to have. Of the father you’re going to be.”

“I should feel something though, Solana,” he stresses. “You’re pregnant, and I don’t….I don’t know how to feel about it. I’m not upset, but I’m not….I don’t feel what you do.”

It’s a sad, almost scary, embarrassing thing to admit. To tell his wife that he doesn’t know how to feel about a pregnancy she’s ecstatic about. But, he does. Because he owes her that much.

Owes her honestly.

“That’s okay, Roman.” The surprises continue, because her response, the tone of almost sympathy, are most certainly not what he was expecting. “I know feelings are hard for you, and I know this is a new experience for you. That’s….that’s okay. What’s not okay is you thinking or even believing you can’t do this, because you can. And you don’t have to do it alone. We’re going to do it together.”

Roman inhales deeply, trying his best to let her words penetrate his strong exterior. 

And then she continues to show her sainthood, continues to show just how she’s far too good for him. “Roman….” Her eyes shift downward, and so do his. Only then does he realize while one hand is on her back, the other is planted on her stomach. Her hand over his. “I’m—I’m carrying them, so I think….I think that makes that bond stronger, easier even.” Roman doesn’t say anything, but it’s impossible for him to not think about how that’s exactly what Lita had said to him.

“What if I can’t connect with them?” A quiet, almost hushed escapee from that deeply embedded box of fears he keeps tucked away. It consists of only a few things, very few, and that most definitely happens to be one of them. “If I can’t—bond with them like you?”

“You won’t bond and connect with them like I do, because I’m their mother. That relationship between mother and daughters is always going to be different from that of father and daughters. There’s something….something special about that. Something you’ll have with them that I can never have because it’s just different, but I promise you, Roman. It’ll be there, baby.” Solana shifts her body on his lap, leaning into her chest, hugging him, laying her head in the crook of his neck. Naturally, Roman holds her, kissing her temple, thankful for her words, for her support, for her belief in him, for her.

“And maybe…maybe it won’t be now.” She moves her hand up and down his chest, a comforting gesture. “Maybe it won’t really hit for you during the pregnancy, and that’s okay, because I know, the minute you hold them for the first time, it’ll click. You’ll feel it then. Feel that love.”

Love.

Once something that was unfamiliar and foreign to him, now something that overwhelms him with its depth and weight whenever he’s around this woman. And it’s that thought, that thought of how Solana managed to completely turn his life around in the best way possible that convinces him maybe, just maybe, she’s right.

“Thank you.” Another whispered thing that emanates from the deepest part of him. “Thank you, Solana.”

She makes a sound and kisses the underside of his bearded jaw. “Never have to thank me for loving you, Ro.” It’s a natural thing for her at this point. Something that feels like it was always meant to be.

They were always meant to be.

—-------

Blood. 

So much blood. 

Too much blood.

She has to save him.

Spewing, streaming, bleeding from open, gaping wounds. So many wounds, the blood saturating the dark, bulky armor that he wears. Armor that, no matter how much she tries, she can’t get off him. And she needs to get it off to treat him, to help him, to do what no one else will.

Because no one else is there.

It’s him, and it’s her, and she has to save him. 

There is no one else to do so.

But try as hard as she can, for all of her efforts, Solana’s hands and clothes continue to stain red from the blood that continues to pour out of him at an alarming rate, much quicker than anything she’s ever seen, which is how she knows there are several bullet and/or stab wounds

She has to save him. 

Her mouth opens, words of desperation and pleas tumbling out as works endlessly to treat him, begs of mercy to God, to whomever, to anyone, to hear her cries. Blood soaked hands that intermittently go to shake him, to keep him from drifting, but she knows this scene. Knows it all too well. 

Has seen it play out before.

And, it guts her.

“Stay with me, okay?” She gasps, her chest feeling like it’s about to explode at any moment. “Just—just stay, okay? You’re—you’re gonna be okay.”

He says nothing, has said nothing, just continues to lay there, rendered silent to his injuries. Injuries he’s slowly succumbing to. 

“I’m gonna s—s–ave you,” she promises, going back to trying to remove the goddamn armor for him only for it to not bulge once more. She shouts out in frustration, gasping violently, using her forearm to wipe at her eyes. The tears blurring her vision serve as a barrier she can’t afford. “It’s—Roman?” Breathing halts. Time stops. Existence ceases. “R–Ro?” A trembling hands digs through the material covering his neck to feel for his pulse, Solana immediately gasping and snatching back her hand. “N–no.” Solana shakes her head, moving to shake him. “R—Roman, wake up. Please—please wake up—” Her please of mercy are a stark contrast to the empty, vacant look in his eyes. A look she’s only seen once before on the only other day of her life where it all ended.

The day her mother was killed.

The sob escapes from the back of her throat, as she moves her body over his, still trying to shake him awake, refusing to lose him to the devastating grips of fate. “W–wake up!” Her cries echo in the void of the abyss that surrounds him. “You–you can’t leave us. W—wake up!”

“Solana!”

Solana shoots up with a violent gasp, immediately hyperventilating, eyes wide and forward and focused on nothing in general. Not at first, at least. It’s only when Roman hits the light on the nightstand and moves his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, Solana starts to come down from the shock and into the hysterics.

She moves her hands to his bare chest, feeling around, needing to feel and see for herself.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice finally registers, as she realizes he’s been trying to talk to and calm her down this entire time. “Solana—”

“It felt so real,” she cries, unable to shake the violent imagery away. “You were—” She can barely get the words out, something Roman seems against as he tries to settle, seeing how talking is even more distressing for her. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t save you.”

It’s only then he seems to understand why she’s so upset, knows the content of her dreams, “baby, I’m fi—”

“I can’t lose you,” she gasps, moving her hands to his forearms, holding him. “I can’t lose you, Roman.”

“You’re not going to, Sol,” he vows, hand cradling the back of her head. “Baby, I’m fine. Nothing is going to—”

Solana continues to shake her head, one hand dropping to her stomach. “I can’t—I can’t raise the girls without you.”

“You won’t,” he promises, expression sympathetic. “Solana, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Promise me.” Her voice is sudden and desperate, her eyes wide and filled with tears. “Promise me nothing’s going to happen to you.”

There’s hesitation, only for a second, but not enough to draw her attention. “I promise nothing’s going to happen to me, Solana.”

Words. A sentence. But, it does something for her. Clearly and visibly decreases her spiked anxiety. Solana nods, closing her eyes and moving herself into Roman’s chest as he guides them so that they’re laying back down, her body pressed into his.

Unaware that at the same time Roman tries to comfort his wife, elsewhere across town, various notifications arrive. One a text, the other an answer. 

One of departure from one group. 

*Jey Uso has left the Operation RoSo conversation*

One informing of arrival into another.

Jey Uso: I’m in.

[brucewaynehater101]

Well i think that way too skinny tim is part of the problems with the babyfication/infantilization of tim.

Tim is very efficient and would take care of himself almost strictly. It all started with taking the role of one of bruce's caretakers. He couldnt let himself have a sick day when Bruce could be having yet another breakdown. Also realistically with his duty as vigilante he wouldn't let himself go thin.

But in the tall tim drake au. While still going through the growth spurts he would totally go even leaner. As he is not used to eat as much as food, i think in those months Tim would do the cryptid thing just to scare the bats. After he finally stops growing he would bulk up. (Def nothing like Bruce or Jason) more like Dick's type of physique. (Smth like jacob elordi / jack champion irl).

His team would help him with the amount of food he should get. And Tim would grt tired of being treated like a little child who cant go to play if he doesnt finnish his meal.

Anyways how do you think his family would react at Tim going tall as a tower? Especially Jason & Bruce reactions.

Og post here

Hi again!!! I think Tim being way too skinny and not taking care of himself can play into the infantalization. However, I also hc Tim to be the type of person that really struggles to put on weight or muscle mass. I've had some friends/loved ones who ate a fuck ton and still remained bean poles. That's kind of where I'm basing it at.

Tim struggling to put on muscle mass could also play into him not being a natural at Robin's physical skills/needs. Basically, him working really fucking hard to meet the same physical goals as Jason and/or Dick.

For the tall Tim Drake AU, I imagine he wouldn't bulk up quite as much as Dick. At the very least, he'd struggle to obtain as much muscle mass as Dick and maintain it. Jacob Elordi does seem like a good fit for Tim, though. A more lean muscular type but still muscles (Dick's got some huge fucking shoulders. Ripped as hell back).

I'm also down for his muscle mass needing to catch up with his growth spurt. Maybe it takes up to a year for his physique to fully settle after he stops growing taller?

He would be hungry *constantly* though. Poor Tim :'( He'd probably come up with some nutrition plan based on his blood sugar and shit to adequately fulfill his needs. He'll be hella annoyed, though, at all the changes and increased need for nutrients. YJ would definitely be roped into it too.

As far as the Bats...

Alfred: *drops his tray*

Damian: *shocked pikaku face*

Bruce: *mental calculations lady*

Jason: *"nopes" out of there*

Babs: *knew all along*

Dick: *sobbing on the floor*

Steph: *instinctively throws something at Tim*

Cass: *sprints towards Tim to tackle hug him*

EDIT: I did not clarify enough on when specifically Tim's struggles with eating may transfer into infantalization territory.

One, nothing wrong with needing support and help with maintaining adequate self-care. I personally struggle with eating and greatly benefit from someone helping me with this.

Two, I bet all of the Bats, at some point, have needed extra support in self-care matters. Particularly, Dick, Bruce, Babs, and Jason, but I imagine the others have had their times as well.

The issues stem from either a narrative of Tim being "incapable" of caring for himself or a restriction in his autonomy. While Tim may benefit from someone reminding him to eat, preparing meals, leaving him snacks, etc., this doesn't mean his own desires should be ignored. If he doesn't want someone butting into his life to help him with that, then so be it. He's capable of making decisions for himself even if others would disagree with his decisions "for his own good."

Hopefully, that's clearer ^^

[celtrist]

Hazbin & Helluva Vs. Aromanticism

(Aka: I have a problem with the Spindlehorse team about this, not shippers.)

(Also this is mainly about Alastor but can go for Octavia and Mammon too.)

Alright, so I've cleaned up this uh... rant, to make things a little more clear hopefully. But to summarize here, this is about the team's lack of commitment when every other character is allowed full confirmation of their orientations but these (potentially) aromantic characters aren't.

While I have no beef with shippers (I think you can ship whoever with whoever you want, I ship Alastor too on occasion), there is some conversation about how the fandom might be a bit of a reason WHY they "can't" be confirmed as aro. But again, my main problem is more with the showrunners than the fandom at this point about this.

I'll also be getting into why it's "important" and the double standards against characters being aromantic.

This is not an attack, ship however way you wish (again, I do it myself). My intent isn't really to stop the shipping, that would be ridiculous. But more so to give my thoughts on why it's BS characters like Alastor can't be confirmed as aromantic when other characters are allowed confirmed orientations.

I will start off by saying I don't mind the shipping of Alastor. While it's NOBODY'S business but mine, I suppose it's important to clarify that I'm someone who does currently identify as aroace. I might be wrong but who cares, it's how I think of myself now at least to some degree (I do after all still have fictional crushes. Real-life romance is not an interest for me though, don't like 'em).

I'm gonna get what I don't think people talk about enough on both sides of being for and against shipping Alastor, and then I'll talk about the shippers as they're (I realized) not my main issue at this point.

A little history: So Alastor has been long time confirmed as an ace character. He hasn't been confirmed as being sex-repulsed or anything, but I can personally say I don't mind either flavor of him being repulsed or favorable (though I imagine the series will lean towards the former to counter everyone else's sex-favorable attitude and for jokes). This statement was initially taken VERY poorly by fans who, at the time, were shipping radiodust and radiobelle/charlastor, one more than the other. Care to take a guess which? The answer will not surprise you.

But then people realized "Oh, asexual doesn't mean he COULDN'T get with someone" and people even went further to "Being asexual doesn't mean he CAN'T have sex", both very true statements. So shipping was back on the menus boys! And his asexual was certainly blurred a bit (to the point where it wasn't even him being sex-favorable asexual as much as just not asexual, something that still happens but certainly not as bad). But overall, people were taking his canonicity as asexual with as much grace as a duck.

So here's where MY problem comes in. While I have some gripes with shippers, I had an epiphany that "Oh. It's not really the shippers I have a problem with. It's the people WRITING THE DAMN CHARACTER". Which, might I just say, is so much worst.

The shippers, while they got annoying at some points and certainly can be still, are just having fun. Because shipping just happens to be the way most people like to interact with characters in the media they're into. Hell, I am no different. I just have the misfortune of only really getting into rarepairs most of the time (curse you my bizarre tastes). I've even shipped with Alastor, I like AngelicSmile/radiojoy quite a bit.

Back on track. Now, what do I mean by my main problem being with the writers more than the fans with this? Well, queue this darling of a clip about the topic (this is the only clip I've found of the live stream, feel free to watch the whole video but just wanted the clip here).

This. Single. Clip. Infuriates me.

Vivzi, while I'm sure not meant to, pretty much implied "Alastor being aromantic and 'non-shippable' would ruin people's fun". I'm sure she meant it as a way to keep others from policing shippers (which didn't work, it still happens), it really just reads as "a character being aromantic is not a fun character". Like there's something wrong with being aro.

Not to mention some other things that would contradict this statement:

Viv in the past said "fans are allowed to ship outside character orientations", so... what makes that so different here with confirming Alastor as aromantic?

It being confirmed is not relevant to the plot. Great, so is every other orientation not relevant. Why can't Alastor be confirmed as aromantic but Vaggie can be confirmed as a lesbian or Vox bi? What does Vox being bisexual have to do with the plot? Neither is relevant to the plot, but one can be confirmed but not the other?

People were gonna ship him ANYWAY. Like, there's really no point in pretending. They were going to anyway because of the first point I already mentioned, but also people ship against canon orientations ALL THE TIME. It's just gonna happen and there's nothing wrong with that in of itself.

You've kind of just implied it's canon by not wanting to say specifically him being aromantic is canon or not. If Viv had just said "I don't wanna confirm his romantic orientation because...", then this statement would be fine and fair I suppose. But she had to call out him being aromantic specifically. And I mean, he COULD be something else (he was slated to be a couple with Mimzy originally after all), but the context doesn't seem like that would be the case. Plus, would she really feel the need to hold back from saying "Alastor is homoromantic" or biromantic or heteroroman- actually yes for that last one probably.

So riddle me this, with these points, why the FUCK would it be so wrong to confirm Alastor as a canonically aromantic icon and help get MORE REP for this very very very VERY underrepresented orientation? And I've thought of a few reasons to this, one of which being to avoid the same backlash that they got for Alastor being ace. Which, DID HAPPEN WHEN THE VOICE ACTOR AND SOMEONE ELSE ON THE SHOW CONFIRMED ALASTOR AS AROMANTIC BUT BACKTRACKED ON THE STATEMENT.

To which, fine. THAT'S on the fans (especially as no one would've complained if he was confirmed as homoromantic, which is a double standard VERY PRESENT in this fandom, but also many others quite honestly). But I can see another reason is to avoid others policing shippers about it.

Which, if that's the case, shit luck it's happening anyway.

To cower away from this orientation because of fans being upset says a lot, both about the fans and the creators. There is a whisper of "Alastor isn't allowed to be aromantic". That "being aro isn't allowed or appreciated".

We live in a world that at this point has a lot more lgbtq+ characters than ever before. At this point, there's just a lot of gay/lesbian and bi characters, and that's wonderful. But, there's barely a handful of aroace characters. And when they are, nobody wants to pay attention to that part of the character. So why can't the deer man be aromantic? I would imagine it would honestly make things a little better ship wise because ship wars wouldn't occur seeing as, well, there's no ship to be fought for. None of them could be canon.

So you might see where I'm leading into this, but I can only really think of one real reason Alastor being aromantic just "can't be confirmed" where as everyone else's orientations can be.

His popularity. Like, that's weird but walk with me here. Alastor is the most popular character in the fandom. There's honestly no denying it, he just is. And what do people do with the most popular character?

THEY SHIP THEM OFF IN A LOVEBOAT.

But wait, if he's aromantic, he can't be on a love boat. THIS IS BS-

And then... the outcry. And we HAVE seen this happen. I mentioned before, he was stated to be aromantic on two occasions by two people who work on the show, one of which is his voice actor (which I'll be fair, I personally don't think VAs always know the characters they play the best, that's the writers). But they had to backpedal because people DID complain. People WERE upset. So it's kind of shown just aromantism isn't really welcomed, at the very least not for a character like Alastor.

And that's the key: "Not for a character like Alastor". But if it were say, Niffty or Mimzy who are either overlooked or just not very popular, THEN it's probably more than okay for a character to be aromantic. Because no one wants to ship with them much, so they can be aromantic all they want.

AKA. The aro community is allowed the scraps but not the dinner.

At this point, you've probably noticed I switched gears from the creators to the fans because I DO think they could be a reason why Alastor "can't" be confirmed as Aromantic. I'll give credit, I'm pretty sure it's mainly on twitter and wouldn't be surprised if it was a "loud minority" thing going on, but the people have spoken. They vehemently cannot STAND the idea of Alastor being aromantic.

But I don't have a problem with these people quite honestly- I mean I kinda do, but my main issue is the lack of commitment when the other characters are allowed confirmed orientations. Why can't aromantic people get confirmed rep? Because "it'll ruin people's fun?" That's such a crappy reason because it's just saying being aro is bad on some level or isn't okay. Why can't the aromantic community get the dinner this ONE TIME? It's one character in a pool of many others that are canonically gay or bi, so why can't the aro community have this ONE popular character?

I'm not even asking for people to stop shipping him, I think that's perfectly FINE. It wouldn't change the canon. I'd appreciate more LOVE given to the aromantic identity (and I'm talking about the far end of it, so absolutely NO interest in romance as many have used aro Alastor but it still comes off as just normal shipping, but that's just me). There's such a double standard to the treatment of aromantic characters to the other characters in these shows (because Octavia and Mammon are in the same boat here), and the reasons given are so crappy that they sound more like off-hand excuses.

Again, I don't MIND people shipping Alastor, or Octavia, or Mammon who is randomly shipped with Adam the most. Let me repeat:

YOU. ARE. ALLOWED. TO. SHIP. THESE. CHARACTER.

But what I have a problem with is that these characters aren't allowed to be OFFICIALLY aromantic. How would it feel if this was a gay character? That they didn't want to confirm it but there's been indications with past statements and even in-universe stuff indicating so? I WANT Viv and her team to STICK with what route they were gonna go with.

And some might argue "what's so bad with nothing being confirmed?" Other than the fact every other character's orientations are allowed confirmation and Viv's crappy way of putting it in not confirming anything. There's, by all technicalities, nothing wrong.

However, if I may pose a counter, why is it fair for people to demand or ask for gay representation or confirmation but not aromantic? Because it's "not ruining anything"? If that's the case, I'm inclined to say that may be a bit aphobic. Because how is it that a character being aromantic can "ruin" the character or something, but a character being gay DOESN'T "ruin" the character. It's a double standard that I don't think most people realize or want to say because you don't want to be dissing on gay stuff.

But WAKE UP SHEEPLE. The gay stuff has PLENTY of things by this point. Whether through fan works or official media, it is growing and it is growing rapidly. And we should be HAPPY about that. But alternatively, Aromantic (and asexual) rep BARELY gets any attention in either fan works or official media. People would be UPSET if a ship like Angel Dust X Vaggie or Stolas X Verosika got into one of the top most popular ships. But Alastor? Nah, it's fine.

Again, while I don't mind the shipping itself, hopefully, you can understand how it might feel to see one of the most popular ships involve a character that goes against their orientation and it's YOUR orientation. It doesn't. Feel. Great.

And not everyone who ships Alastor even would LIKE him to end up with who they ship. Some people just like it staying in fanon. I have met SO MANY nice people who ship Alastor with characters that I personally don't really like him shipped with. But it's clear that I don't think THEY'D mind if he was confirmed aromantic because it doesn't change their life. They'll still keep shipping him because that's fun for them and that's FINE. People explore themselves through characters with confirmed orientations and they don't always line up with canon, and that's FINE. I don't think people should be policed on shipping with the deer man, they're just having fun. Would I appreciate a little more love for the aro identity? Sure (I mean just look at Alastor's ship weeks activeness vs. his aro week activeness), but if that's not how people have fun they shouldn't be forced to do stuff with it.

But Alastor being seemingly "not allowed" to be confirmed as aro has set a precedent that there's something wrong with being aromantic. And personally, it makes me feel a tad unwelcomed sometimes.

It's the precedents. Again, why is every other character's orientation allowed to be confirmed but Alastor's isn't? What is so wrong with him being aromantic? Hell, he might not even BE aromantic. But at least I'd KNOW instead of floundering around hoping upon a star for some aromantic representation.

It's okay to be gay but- WHOA HOLD YOUR HORSES THERE. WE'RE GONNA HAVE TO PUT A PAUSE IN THAT ARO BUSINESS YOU GOT THERE.

A character's worth is in how shippable they are. And if they're aromantic, they're not shippable. And unfortunately, there are just enough people to throw a hissy fit about it that Viv doesn't want to confirm it.

Because apparently being aromantic would "ruin" things.

[rosyhoneydew]

As Long As You'll Have Me

My entry for day 3 of @bucktommywhumpweek - "You act like you’re expendable. But you’re wrong." | Prompts: Abandonment issues // Forced to leave the other behind

This is pretty brief whump but hopefully it still fits the prompt :)

"Are- Are you going somewhere?" Buck asks, there's a hollow kind of deja vu setting in when he steps into their bedroom to see Tommy packing a small duffle. "You're home!" Tommy says, startling and turning to face Buck. "Yeah, Ravi picked up the rest of my shift. Said he could use the extra hours." Normally he'd walk right up to his boyfriend, kiss him hard, maybe show him exactly how much he missed him during his shift. But right now Buck can't move from the doorway. Because Tommy's packing a bag. "I, uh, thought you'd be a little while still," Tommy says, something like a guilty smile on his face. And Buck... he's not exactly sure what's going on here but he can feel his face getting hot and his heart rate speeding up. He thought things were good with them. Is Tommy not happy? Did he miss the signs? Again? "Hey," Tommy says, "you okay?" "Are you leaving?" Buck asks in lieu of a response. It comes out a little harsher than he planned, but he's focused on not doing something like crying and begging his boyfriend to stay. Tommy sighs. “I wanted to surprise you,” he says, expression softening a bit. “You remember that I call I had up near San Bernadino?”  Yes. A hiker’s mom called in when her daughter didn’t check in along the trail. She’d been out there for a few days at least. Buck remembers the look of relief on his boyfriend’s face when he got home that night, the girl dropped off at the hospital, safe and sound.  “Turns out her mom’s got a place in Big Bear and she thought it would be nice to let me vacation there for a few days, as a thank you.” “Vacation?”  “It was supposed to be a surprise,” Tommy says, smiling and making his way toward Buck. His lightly grabs Buck’s arms, about to lean in for a kiss before he stops. “Is everything alright?” 

“Y- yeah, just…” Buck takes in the room before looking back at Tommy. “You’re not leaving me?”  “Leaving you?” Tommy seems genuinely shocked by the prospect. “No, Evan, no. Why would you think that?”  “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Buck says, shaking his head like he can dislodge the thoughts that way. Tommy rubs his arms and presses a light kiss to Buck’s cheek, seemingly content to wait until Buck is ready to talk. He takes the moment to let the pounding in his heart return to normal. He's not leaving, he's not leaving, he's not leaving. “You remember my ex I told you about, right? Abby?” Buck starts. Tommy nods. “That’s how I found out, when she was going to leave you know? I came home - I was living at her place then too - and her stuff was all in suitcases.” He pauses for a moment, remembering how he had believed her when she said it was just a trip. That she would be back for him. “At the time she had planned to come back, you know? Then she, umm, she didn’t.”  Tommy’s looking at him like his own heart is breaking, and, shit, the last thing he wants is for Tommy to feel bad when he was just trying to plan a surprise for his boyfriend. 

"I know you're not her," Buck clarifies quickly. "I just- I think I saw you packing and I didn't know where you were going and it kind of took my brain a second to catch up."

“Evan, I am so sorry,” Tommy starts. “I had no idea this would stir up those memories for you.”  “Don’t apologize,” Buck says. “Of course you didn’t know. You were just doing something nice.”  Tommy reaches up to rest his hand on the nape of Buck’s neck, softly brushing his thumb there and leaning his forehead against Buck’s.  “I am not leaving you,” he says. “I will never leave you.”  Buck huffs a little laugh at that, because, well, “You say that now.”  Tommy leans back a bit to look Buck in the eye, “Evan,” he says, “I love you, and so long as you’ll have me, I will never leave you.”  Oh. He means… is he saying… Buck lunges forward to wrap Tommy in a kiss, passionate and full of feeling. Tommy's right there to catch him, arms wrapped around him, letting Buck set the pace but never faltering at his intensity. “Let me try this again,” Tommy says with a smile when they part. “Evan, would you like to spend the weekend together in Big Bear? Just the two of us.”  “Yes,” Buck says, only able to peel his eyes away from Tommy’s lips for a moment to say, “I love you.”

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

B-u-c-k-y? Bucky

Pairings: father!Bucky Barnes x child!reader, featuring Steve Rogers x child!reader and Tony Stark x child!reader (all platonic)

Imagine: The beginning of your relationship with your father and a glimpse at the progress

Warnings: angst, fluff, mention of Hydra, mention of child mistreatment, mention of experiments, reader describes as tiny to clarify more that hydra treated them bad, mention of medical equipment such as syringes, not proofread, if you find anything else please tell me

A/N so don’t know where this came from but I haven’t been able to write something in months so I’m just happy to be able to write again hopefully, don’t know if I like it or not but here we go anyway enjoy

Kinda short, dunno about 2000 words or so

might make more parts to this

Sparks lit up the dark corridor as Bucky and Steve walked down the stairs to be met with red lights flashing above each door as the alarms blasted their annoyingly high pitched sound that made your ears ring afterwards. One look at each other, they gave a nod and split up as they took one side each of the corridor.

The first room Bucky opened was filled with cabinets made of plastic and in each was different kinds of test tubes with what looked like some kind of poisonous liquid. Syringes were spread out over the desks neatly. Bucky felt chills run down his spine as he saw the hospital bed (or more like a table with white a quilt?) in the middle of the room. Handcuffs made to restrain a person laid neatly on the bed. Blood covering the sides of the bed and his mind went back to 1945, when Arnim Zola experimented on him. Which had coincidentally also been at a hydra base. His gun raised as he searched the room for any kind of lifeforms, when he found none he went on to the next door.

This continued for at least five more doors, some of them being lab rooms and some what looked like prison cells fortified with extra protection, meaning whoever had once been inside couldn’t have fled on their own.

When he opened the sixth door, Bucky scanned the room and had it not been for the red lights flashing once in a while and the lamp that flickered out a dull light he would've missed the tiny child in the room. Knees pressed to their chest. Hospital gown clinging to their skin from blood and cold sweat. The room had cold chills and even for Bucky who tolerated the cold more than others he could feel the freezing temperature in the room. He lowered his gun and put on the softest expression he could muster during these circumstances. Bucky glanced out the door and yelled out with a soft voice (to not startle the child) once for Steve, Bucky’s gaze not soon after fell back to the quivering child, that was you, who stared at him with wide scared eyes.

Bucky took a careful step towards you as he kneeled down slightly to put his gun onto the floor. He gave you what was supposed to look like a kind smile but looked more like a grimace as he thought about what you must have been through. As soon as you saw Bucky coming closer he watched as dark blue smoke covered your tiny frame and not a second after you were gone. Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked around the room for you. His eyes fell on the coroner farthest away from him. You had covered your ears with your hands and your eyes were shut. Your body was tense and knees still pressed to your chest as you quivered further into the corner. Bucky stayed in place not knowing entirely what to do. At that moment he saw Steve walk through the door sparing a glance towards you before back at Bucky his shield raised as they both heard people run their way. With a sigh from Bucky they both left you for the time being as Hydra soldiers started to fill the end of the corridor.

As soon as you heard the sound of shots (your hands not able to muffle out the sounds that came right outside of the room you resided in) die down you opened your eyes. You watched with curious eyes as Bucky (not that you knew his name) walked into the room once more. Like before he put his gun down and gave you a kind smile, this time his hand slowly reached out for you. He watched as you pressed yourself girder into the corner as you stared at his hand.

“hey, hey, okay, it’s okay” Bucky raised both his hands into the air to show he meant no harm as he cautiously took another step closer. “I won’t hurt you” Steve watched from the door opening as Bucky interacted with you. His gaze shifted to the metal objects (or what looked like toys for children) in the room that had started to slightly hover over the ground, including Bucky’s gun.

Bucky’s eyes glanced towards the hovering objects and was a tiny bit glad that you hadn’t done anything to his left arm. “What's your name?” he let out a sigh as you didn't answer knowing you probably wouldn't answer anything he asked you, hell he didn’t even know if you could understand him. His head tilted slightly as he took slow steps forward until he knelt in front of you. The metal objects (except his arm) are rising higher into the air.

“are you alright, you hurt?” He said clearly as he watched you start to pick at the side of your arm where blood was running down onto your hospital gown. He watched as you picked at multiple wounds, some of them he could clearly see were from syringes and his eyes saddened. Both Bucky and Steve watched as you pressed yourself deeper into the corner, as you tried to hide the many bruises that littered your body.

“can I-we help you, can you let us help you out of here?” Bucky gestured with his hand to him and Steve as he said the word us. Once more he didn’t get a verbal answer but instead he got you to move out of the corner slightly. Bucky held his hand out to you once more and watched as you carefully placed your tiny hand in his much bigger one. He couldn’t help but to give a soft smile once more towards you.

"Can you walk?” And yet again there was no answer. Bucky looked at you with an uncertain expression as you stood up. Your body swaying from side to side. He carefully and slowly to make sure you could stop him if you wanted to, took you into his arms. Making sure you wouldn’t fall he stood up straight and started to walk towards Steve who smiled slightly at Bucky as he watched you shut your eyes and bury your head into his chest. The metal objects all crashed to the ground with a loud clatter of noise in various directions.

This had all been four months ago and Bucky had finally started to get you to trust him enough for you to let him teach you how to talk, write and read. By now you also trusted the rest of the avengers enough so that you wouldn’t try to hide from all of them except Steve (excluding Bucky). Tony would most days let you sit beside him as he made new iron man suits and at some time along the way he’d let you help him by using your powers to bend a metal the way he wanted it to be. This would in the end result in you running up to Bucky proud of your accomplishments and for Bucky to ruffle your hair and tell you how proud he was. These interactions with Tony also led to you having more control over your powers at least one of them. You still tended to teleport yourself unintentionally to the other side of the room if you were scared.

Today it just so happened that Bucky held another lesson with you to help you speak. So far you were able to say yes and no and some other basic things such as “hungry” and “tired”. However even though you were starting to learn you still most of the time stuck to being nonverbal and only shook your head yes or no or shrugged your shoulders when you didn’t know.

At this moment Bucky had tried to teach you to say his name and so far your tries had been good but as he knew you were a slow learner which he realized the first time he started to teach you, he knew you wouldn't be getting his name right in a while. For Bucky however this was just a minor setback as he felt he had to teach you everything after all as it so happened he was your father.

As soon as you had gotten to the Avengers base they tried to find out if you had any family that had filed a missing child’s report and to know what your name was as you refused to speak (them not knowing you didn’t know how to). Bucky had to promise you that he would be there for every test they did to you to make sure you were as healthy as you could be at that moment for you to let them be near you with any medical devices. As it turned out Hydra had somehow created you from Bucky’s DNA meaning he was listed as the father in the old Htdra records they found at the Hydra base they had attacked. They had also found out that you were around 8-9 years old. There wasn’t a specific date listed anywhere on when your birthday was, only what year you were born. This had shocked all of the heroes as they by the way you looked were way younger. All the more information they gained only made Bucky feel more guilty. Even if he didn’t know about your existence he still felt guilty over the things you had suffered with Hydra. The fact that you looked so much younger made him feel more guilty as it showed how poorly they had taken care of you. If he just looked at you he would assume you were around 5-6 years old and maybe your powers helped your appearance look younger but it still made him feel guilty.

Bucky had to shake himself out of his thoughts as he watched and heard you try to pronounce his name correctly.

“B-b-a-b-a-ck-y” You fumbled over the words as you hugged the Iron Man plushie Tony had given you a few days prior after he saw you holding a Captain America plushie. Ever since you hadn’t let go of the new plushie, much to Bucky’s demise and Tony’s ego.

Your father couldn’t help but to smile at you, it had been a long time since he smiled as much as when you came into his life and he hoped that maybe you could heal the part in himself that he found to be broken.

“not A” he pointed to the letter a in the book you held in front of you “sweetheart, it’s b-u-cky” Bucky pointed at each letter as he said them. He had originally wanted to teach you to call him dad first but as you had no idea what that word meant yet and only ever heard people call him bucky that's what he went with to for now to not make you confused.

“ba-cku?

Bucky chuckled slightly and remade his actions as before. He pointed to each letter as he said them. “b-u-c-k-y, bucky”

“B-u-c-k-y?”

“That's right sweetie, B-u-c-k-y” Steve spoke from beside you as he took the other seat next to you as he brought you a plate with different types of sliced fruit as they were still trying to see what you liked to eat.

You took fruit from the plate and tasted it. Munching on it you smiled slightly up at Bucky. “Bu-cky, Bucky? Bucky”

Both super soldiers let out encouraging smiles as you repeated Bucky’s name as if it was a chant. Bucky’s smile held more pride than the others who had heard you as he ruffled your hair. He smiled more brightly as he watched you stand up and ruffle his own hair mimicking his actions. With that he let out a small laugh and kissed the top of your head as you sat down once more, ready for Bucky to teach you other words.

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! :D y'all voted and fought neck and neck for this SO- heres the first entry into our little cooking journey of J. R. R. Tolkeins fictional food for his fictional little guys he puts in fictional turmoils for our enjoyment and awe!

 Before we get started i wanna say i owe my heart to all the LotR fans who upkeep the wiki, debate the cannon, and create their own versions of the foods mentioned. Both because of my love for people who LOVE (passionate people)(passion about anything) and because my own knowledge of this series is a little dusty. I've never seen the movies but I did read the books growing up. I'll be learning and remembering things from a fairly newbie standpoint, so no worries if you yourself arent familiar with the series! (and if you are familiar, hopefully youll forgive me!)

We will be making Lembas ('waybread') today! If you've made your own version of this please feel free to share it, similarly if you have any ideas for what we make next!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Lembas?” YOU MIGHT ASKWell so the funny thing is we kinda dont know. At least not entirely? The elves are dicks like that. But heres what we'll be using in ours-

Butter

Self-rising flour

Granulated Sugar

Raisins

A small dried fruit of your choosing

Almonds OR Pecans

EGG

Whole Milk

Heavy Cream

And if you would like for dipping-

Blackberry jam

To the extent i understand this is kinda like hardtack from the bri'ish military, but a fantastical version of it that actually tastes really good. Hardtack was a military provision with the texture of a brick that took a long time to spoil and could be easily carried with soldiers. So the texture we're going for is super dense, packed full with nuts and fruits (haha just lik-), but perhaps not that dense. We want something closer to a dog biscuit than actual tack.

I remembered something about corn being mentioned, thankfully the wiki clarified that no actually the british just referred to any grain as corn back in the day. Thank Fuck! Although I would like to try a version of this using masa in the future.

AND, “what does Lembas taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Took a few tries but eventually got it perfectly chewy and dense

The raisins cook-in like little beads of flavortown sweetness

Cant speak for other fruits but for dried apple it softened up nicely, kinda matching the raisins in the end

Im a big pecan slut, pecans fuck on anything especially here. Crumble them on top after you coat the dough with the egg-mixture for some visual appeal

Somewhat flakey outside

The jam was my idea, it was nice but might be too sweet for some tastes

Would pair very well with a kiwi flavored drink

Or mead

I can see why this would a travelling provision. Its both sugary (a good thing when expending energy) and filling (also a good thing when youre travelling) while not being overwhelming with flavor (if youre prone to motion sickness. Horse sickness? Do get motion sickness on horses?)

Its like how if you're going hiking you want a good mix of sugars and salts, to balance your intake of water.

. If you wanna make it like the illustrations or the movie, use a cookie cutter for either triangles or squares . If you don't have a cookie cutter, an apple cutter also works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . try to keep the board you'll roll the dough out onto chilled before you use it, it seems better for the texture of the food though i dont entirely know why

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So from beginning to end, it took about an hour and half for the first attempt. Down to about 40 minutes for the second attempt. These are a real simple recipe because its not like a croissant where the margin for error is nonexistent. Middle-earth be damned my boy can work a grill.

I'd recommend storing in a tubberware container, but if you're deadset on using leaves please rinse and dry them first, and wrap the bread in either wax paper or saran wrap underneath. We dont have mallorn leaves in real life (as far as we know) but most salad greens should work, or as Marie Porter says (linked in the reblogs!) a banana leaf.

I really enjoyed the process of making this recipe, itd be really easy to batch-bake these en masse, and the process of eating said recipe. Like all jokes aside, i think this would be a great substitute for trailmix. Its not going to get smushed and even if it breaks a bit it wont affect the taste. It wont keep you fed for a whole day but pair it with some pickles or a salty snack and yeah itll keep your motor running.

I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Let me know if you think I got something wrong, or if you ran into issues with the recipe. We're off to a strong start, lads!

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

6 TBSP butter, chilled

2 cups self-rising flour

1 TBSP granulated sugar

½ cup raisins

½ other dried fruit (strawberry slices, oranges, etc.), chopped

Handful of almonds or pecans, chopped

1 egg, well beaten

½ cup whole milk

4 TBSP heavy cream

Method:

Preheat your oven to 400 f.

Cut the butter into slivers/small pieces. With your hands, combine the butter into the flour in a mixing bowl until the mixture resembles coarse sand.

Chop your dried nuts and dried fruit until it feels right.

Mix in the sugar, raisins, nut, and dried fruit of your choosing

In a seperate bowl, beat the egg until combined, and then mix in the milk until combined. Keep a bit of this mixture to brush the tops of the bread.

Stir while adding the egg/milk mixture and the heavy cream into the flour. Mix just until combined into a soft dough.

Knead the dough until firm on a floured surface.

Roll into a half inch thickness and cut with a square or leaf shaped cookie cutter. (...or in my case, an apple corer).

Place on a lightly greased baking sheet, with about an inch of space between each piece. Brush the tops of the lembas with some of the mixture you saved earlier.

Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until it turns a soft gold and the inside is chewy.

[itsgrimeytime]

When he loves you... || Rick Grimes (TWD)

When you love him (prequel)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

Alexandria. It was like a breath of fresh air, despite everyone still being skeptical -clean showers, clean houses, a home-

You were pleased, very pleased -even with your own doubts, you knew such a place was a miracle.

What you had noticed, however, was the wear and tear on your leader -he was stretched thin with every responsibility, and you knew he wasn't taking it well. Especially with Judith and Carl to take care of-

That's why you were here, at his doorstep, far past dinner. The sun set and the chill of the night dusting across your arms, you knocked.

You knew a long time ago that you were in love with Rick. It was more complicated then, with a wife and a baby and the loss- Some would argue it was less complicated now, with you a staple in his kid's life and his own.

He leaned on you like a rock, a friend, sure, but his rock. You weren't sure it was healthy on your part, honestly, but you loved him. You'd do anything to help him.

Once again, hence you being on his doorstep late in the night. Well, not late late, but you knew he wasn't asleep.

He wasn't sleeping, you knew that too, so-

The door swung open, and there he was -newly shaven and clean jaw. You hadn't seen that yet.

"When did you-" you motioned around your chin, it came out like an instinct -the beard was one thing, but now.

"This mornin'," he answered like it was normal for you to be at his doorstep -which it kind of was. You'd been gone all day on runs, you led a lot of them now -another thing to help Rick, now that you realized.

"Looks-" you cleared your throat, awkwardly, "-Looks good, Rick. Haven't seen you like that since-"

"The farm," he answered, smiling a little at what you weren't sure. It was nice to see, though.

"Well, yeah," you agreed, before shaking your head out of the stupor (stupid jawline-), "-Wait, I have a reason for showing up, actually."

"Don't need one," he hummed, offhandedly -opening the door more to let you in.

"I do, though," you echoed, something swirling in your stomach at the words -you stood squarely on the porch, "-Look, let me take Judith tonight."

"What?"

"I said-"

"No, no," he clarified, "-I know what ya said. Just... why?"

You stood your ground, a little intimidating but you always were with his health, "I know you haven't been sleeping."

"And you want to-"

"Help," you finished, "-I can stay here if you want, but I thought I'd take her a night, so you could at least try to sleep. I know you're busy the rest of the day, so-"

"I love you," he breathed out like it was a fact -as simple as the sun setting.

You froze, your tongue heavy in your mouth -your heart stilling in your chest. Did you really hear that right? Did he-

"Let's talk," he spoke, like his words were as normal as 'how was your day', and he nudged open the door even further -inviting you in, "'At okay?"

"Uh, yeah," you answered, a bit on instinct -your brain was running a mile a minute, all you heard was those words bouncing around your brain, 'I love you.' Had he really-

He guided you to the couch, motioning you to sit where you want -you chose on the far left, hopefully far enough to take a few breaths. Calm down-

Rick sat right beside you, your knees bumping into each other -his side pushed into yours. So much for a breath-

"Rick," you echoed, a little lost, "-did you-"

He sighed, a big loud one, and you were startled into silence, "You know I know all ya do for me, right?"

"Yes," you answered decidedly.

"Bringin' me a plate from Carol's, leadin' on runs, hell you even volunteer for baby duty," he laughed, "-No one wants baby duty."

"Well," you stammered, "-you haven't been sleeping, I just-"

"You care," he hummed, turning to face you, "-a whole lot. Always have."

"Well-"

"You deserve to know people care 'bout you, too," he echoed, now wrapping your hands in his, "-a whole lot."

"You-" you started, slowly.

"I love you," he confessed, like it was as easy as breathing, before laughing and adding, "-a whole lot."

Your mouth ran without thinking, "I love you too."

"I know," he smiled, a twinkly sort of one and you realized now he was just smiling at you.

You opened your mouth to ask how, but he cut you to the chase.

"Like I said, no one wants baby duty."

[liliths-missing-pen]

hii!! This probably sounds weird but im gonna try making it sound better😭😭

I would like to request floyd, idia, azul, and lilia (or malleus instead of lilia) with a bitey s/o! That sounds weird but i mean- an mc who bites them, but not too hard,, almost playful, and friendly (?) I would like to clarify that theyre not a child, just a really bitey 18 y/o😭

Can be platonic or romantic! Tysm for even reading this, and writing this even tho it sounds so, so weird, and silly😓😇 (honestly not sure if ure even gonna write this but hopefully nlng,, thankyu po😇)

Floyd, Idia, and Azul with a S/O Who Likes To Bite Them!

I hope you don't mind that I made it kind of like impulsive thoughts that the mc actually goes through with. But oh my goodness I had this request sitting on the bottom of my inbox and drafts because of school... I also had no clue what to write for Lilia or Malleus so I apologize. I hope you enjoy it though!

Masterlist

Floyd Leech

Okay but like let's be honest here. Floyd is biting you back lmao.

The first time you bit him he was probably confused but probably giddy just from excitement.

I can see Floyd being a bitty child as he grew up just trying to bite anyone he could. Yes, Floyd has at least tried to bite Azul once when they were children. This would be an expression of him being happy, content or protective of a friend Floyd.

So when he realized you liked biting him, he was excited he could regain his bitty habits, much to Azul's dismay.

If you ever bite him whether it be in public or private be ready to be bitten back.

"Oh, Shrimpy wants to play today?~" Floyd stated as he gave you a toothy grin. You laughed nervously, glancing up at the 6-foot lanky eel. "So what if I do?" You joke, turning your heel to head to the VIP room which Azul had called you to previously in the day.

Floyd wasn't having it though, gaining a tight grasp on your wrist and pulling you back to see his heterochromatic eyes staring down at you. "Nuh uh uh~ Shrimpy want to play, so I want to play too!" He said gleefully as he went to nibble on your ear, making you shriek.

"Floyd we're out in public you can't do right now," you scolded him. "Big talk for a shrimp who bit me first,~" he slyly smirked at you as his grasp on your wrist loosened but as you started to walk away into the Monstro Lounge's VIP room you knew that this incident wasn't going to be dropped when you visited Floyd later.

Azul Ashengrotto

Once again I headcanon that Floyd was a biter as a child. This means that Azul has had his encounters with people who seem to not think exactly before they do something

Not saying that you were exactly like Floyd but it does give Azul flashbacks when he feels your teeth on his supple skin.

He has and will yelp if you catch him off guard. Depending on whether you're in public or not he will shoot you a glance saying "Stop, people are watching."

He's learnt how to deal with you and your... Biting tendencies and he loves you for it. He's begun to tease you for it at times as well when he's bold just to see that red hue creep up on your cheeks and that adorable embarrassed face you make.

However, he won't be as pleased if you and your impulsive thoughts bite him when he's in an important meeting for the lounge...

Ever since you and Azul got together, it became normal to see you sitting in his office, sometimes even during his meetings. In the dimly lit room chatter amongst the two parties, "Mr. McCo, I understand there's been a recent storage of chickens but that's no reason to jump the prices by 10 dollars by the pound."

"Mr. Ashengretto, that's just how it works there's been a much more scarcity of chicken that I must make this price jump."

You were just sitting beside Azul not paying too much attention to the bargaining at hand and instead the light on the ceiling. Your eyes wandered till you saw Azul's shoulder. You wondered how it would feel if you just..

CHOMP!

Well, there goes that business deal.

Idia Shroud

Congrats, you broke him.

Okay but seriously though, Idia has never really had confidence and this concept bled into his thoughts about his appearance. He has flaming hair and sharp, shark-like teeth due to his family curse. Anything related to it he despises with all of his being.

I could see the two of you petty bickering about something, probably game-related and it morphs into something else leading to his appearance. Off-handedly mentioning how he's "scary and could eat you with his sharp teeth."

You can imagine at that goes over, the two of you bursting out in laughter at the stupidity.

Then suddenly, CHOMP!

You jokingly made an attempt on his arm.

Idia yelped at the sudden movement you made on him pulling back his arm. "What- What was that for?!" He exclaimed, "There's more than one person who can bite." You snicker, and in return, Idia stares at you in horror.

"I- What the hell is wrong with you?!"

---

Yeah... Maybe don't bite Idia lol

I take commissions!

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for @qwertynerd97 behind the cut. If I had a nickel for every time an unethical billionaire cloned the superhero archnemesis he's obsessed with, I'd have two nickels. Which is not a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

They really do get to Amity in, like, surprisingly good time, all things considered? At least Tucker’s surprised, anyway. If nothing else he would’ve expected a random ghost attack he’d have to teach Superboy how to fight ghosts really quickly during to happen, given . . . literally everything about his entire life since the age of fourteen, pretty much. Or maybe a supervillain or something, since Superboy’s in the mix right now and all. 

Mind, Tucker definitely did go over how ghosts work and all on the flight over and also during they two convenience store snack/pee/walk breaks they took, since he would personally like to avoid the demi-Kryptonian whose DNA he desperately needs free access to getting overshadowed. And also, like, it’s just a dick move to take anybody to Amity Park without mentioning the ghosts and how to deal with them. 

There are just . . . so many ghosts. So many. 

So, so many.

Superboy hopefully actually listened to at least most of the “Amity Park: Ghosts, Spirits, & Not Getting Your Ass Spectrally Kicked By Either 101” speech and didn’t just tune him the frick out for infodumping on him too hard and talking his ear off, but it at least seemed like he was listening? Like, he asked some questions and stuff and seemed to be following along okay, more or less? Mostly? 

Tucker really, really hopes Superboy listened to the ghost speech. 

“Okay, so like, avoid anybody too glowy for right now, maybe?” Tucker says as Superboy lets him down on the sidewalk just down the block from FentonWorks, which Superboy is currently squinting through his sunglasses at. Which, like–fair, Tucker figures. Definitely fair. “As in let me deal with anybody too glowy for right now, that’s probably just for the best right now. Like I’ll tell you who’s cool and who I’m gonna have to soup and who we need to flee from in a blind panic, yeah?” 

“‘Soup’?” Superboy repeats skeptically. 

“Thermos thing,” Tucker clarifies. “Remember the Thermos thing? We call it souping, sometimes. Also I mentioned we need to not say anything whatsoever to Danny’s parents, right, like I definitely mentioned that being a thing?” 

“Seven times,” Superboy says. “One of which was a seventeen-minute rant about their shitty tech skills.” 

“They don’t test! They don’t even have any basic safety protocols in place!” Tucker hisses. “Literally they got one of their kids literally killed via a portal to the Infinite Realms with no safety locks on it and didn’t even notice! Like I’m not this liminal because the Fentons have safety locks or literally any basic shielding or food safety knowledge! Which, on that note, don’t eat anything they offer you, if they offer you anything. Probably they won’t, they’re not really the type to think about basic human needs or general human politeness, but yeah.” 

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on the whole ‘liminal’ thing,” Superboy says. “The liminal thing is confusing.” 

“So are literally our entire lives,” Tucker replies frankly, making a mental note to get him a mini-primer or something. Maybe some notes or a spreadsheet. Like just whatever Superboy can brush up on while they’re poking at his DNA or whatever, basically. There is no such thing as knowing too much about ghosts, as far as he’s concerned. “So anyway, yeah, just lemme take the lead with the Fentons. Actually any Fentons? Just–let me take the lead in general, for right now. Like–uh. Please?” 

Probably Superboy is not gonna be down with that, actually, because he’s–actually Tucker’s not sure, is he an emancipated minor, or . . . ? Like, dude makes his own money, obviously, and he does his hero work solo, plus it’s not like he called any parent/guardian about leaving Hawaii on basically a whim, so . . . yeahhhhh. 

“I’m down with that,” Superboy says with an easy shrug, spreading his hands. “Your stomping grounds, man, not mine.” 

Tucker stares blankly at him for a moment, then decides not to look that gift poltergeist in the mouth. 

“Cool,” he says. “Uh–thanks. Uh–this way?” 

“Oh yeah?” Superboy asks, cocking an eyebrow at Fentonworks’ whole . . . Fentonworks-ness as he looks at it over the top of his sunglasses. Tucker boils in embarrassment, and also boils in renewed bewilderment about how pretty this dude’s eyes are. Just–pretty. So pretty. Tucker just came out to rescue Danny’s clone-sister/daughter/cousin and he is honestly feeling so attacked right now? “Good thing I sprung for the local tour guide.” 

“In my defense, this town is so much weirder than you know,” Tucker says. “Just–so much weirder.” 

“There’s this eternal party in space I just go to whenever I’m bored,” Superboy says. “Got a teleport thing that takes me, it’s kinda sick.” 

“. . . okay so your opinion of ‘weird’ is not universal, is what I’m hearing here,” Tucker says after a moment. Danny would friggin’ love that, if they weren’t all freaking out about Dani right now. 

“That’s what they tell me,” Superboy replies with another easy shrug. 

“I’m definitely making the mistake of assuming you’re a normie, yeah,” Tucker says, which is definitely a mistake he keeps making, for whatever reason. Probably, like, habit from interacting with literally every other living being he’s encountered in his life up until two years ago, he guesses. “Alright, yeah anyway, Fenton parents, threat level . . . orange, I’d say? Like not full red, but we’re getting there. So, uh–follow my lead, and please don’t maim them if they try to net you. Or shoot you. Or shoot you with a net, that’s also a–uh. Yeah.” 

He spares a moment to suffer in mortification over the way Superboy’s pushed his glasses up into his hair to squint at him, then flees–strategically retreats–towards FentonWorks. 

It is just very clearly time to strategically retreat, is all. 

Or, uh, time to figure out how to handle Danny’s parents, Tucker mentally amends with a wince as he gets close enough to see their stupid van haphazardly “parked” more on the sidewalk than the street. Parts of it are actively smoking; the rest is dripping bubbling ecto. 

“Trippy,” Superboy muses, floating up a few feet to peer over the top of his sunglasses at the top of the van. Tucker dives forward and automatically grabbing the guy in an attempt to yank him down out of the air before anyone mistakes him for a ghost. They very much do not have time for that right now, especially right outside the Fentons’ place. 

Unfortunately, his yank less yanks Superboy down than it yanks himself up, which is officially the closest he’s ever gotten to doing a pull-up, so he guesses that’s cool or whatever, but also not helpful. 

“Did I mention how you shouldn’t fly around here?” Tucker asks, maybe a little bit dangling off Superboy’s waist right now. Like, just a tiny little sort-of bit. “Because if I did not, that was a serious oversight on my part. So, uh, please come back down here, dude.” 

“Says the dude who’s climbed up here,” Superboy snorts, but does, mercifully, actually settle back down on the sidewalk. 

“I would not describe that as ‘climbing’ so much as ‘failing’, but you do you,” Tucker says. “C’mon, we’re going in. Try to look, uh . . . less like a superhero.” 

“I am literally incapable of that one, buddy,” Superboy says dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. “On account of how they made me in the literal exact image of the superhero.” 

“. . . yeah alright, that wasn’t a fair ask,” Tucker admits with another wince. Well–Danny’s parents aren’t that observant when they’ve got a distraction distracting them, and obviously they need distracted, so . . . it’ll probably be fine? Probably? 

. . . . . . maybe they should just sneak in Danny’s bedroom window, actually. Maybe that would be the smarter play right now.

[books-and-strawberry-tea]

I don’t normally comment about booktube here. But I’ve just seen a video and I have to get some comments off my chest.

This video was about e-readers. And while the person has a huge collection of books behind them, goes on to explain that e-readers are so unnecessary, cause they are expensive. And if you are going to buy an e-reader, just buy an iPad cause they are similar in price….

I’m sorry but in what world is an iPad and an e-reader the same price?? (Or yk other tablets of a similar nature).

This person goes on to talk about how e-readers can’t install apps like Libby etc…are we just going to ignore the e-readers that run on android?? That function like a regular phone just with an e-ink screen??

I honestly gave up watching this video cause this person just sounded like they were pretty single minded on the topic. So here’s my two cents.

Pro’s for an ereader: (at least in my case)

1. E-reader’s are amazing for portability. Physical books can get very heavy, and although I love them, I hate taking physical books out with me cause I’m terrified of damaging them.

2. Books in my country, are incredibly expensive. You can go to the bookstore, and end up spending $50 AUD and get 1-2 books depending on what you get. Hard covers are usually $40+! Paperbacks can range between $17-$40 also. And if it doesn’t get printed in Australia?? Good luck. The only way I could get Hunting Adeline was to pay $65. Because whenever I ordered it from Amazon at $35, from America, it would come absolutely obliterated because they don’t package it in anything but a basic plastic mailer bag. No protection at all.

3. E-readers are much better for your eyes and don’t have constant distracting notifications and people trying to ring you. I have weak eye muscles. Always have. I wear glasses for this. And I used to read on my phone cause it’s what I have with me while I was out. But once I got an e-reader, I realised just how bad my eye strain was from my phone. E-readers have seriously improved my reading stamina especially since mine has the orange light feature. It’s not like we all don’t have an internet or phone addiction anyway. At least according to statistics I’ve seen in the past. Majority of us are trying to spend less time on our phones and more time doing what we love. And e-readers absolutely help with that. (Much better for my ADHD too honestly.)

4. I live with roommates, I have very limited space. So big book collections is just not something that’s possible for me. I’d love to, but again, space and money.

5. E-readers have given me the opportunity to read books that I’d never be able to get. Because of space reasons, money reasons, and the fact that Australia just does not get the wide selection of books that other countries do. We miss out so much. Some books, we have to wait YEARS for, while everyone else gets them on release dates. My e-reader has been such a huge investment for me, as well as an opportunity maker to give me the option to read books I’d never be able to get other wise.

I will clarify this by saying yes, I do have an iPad. But that was a gift. I didn’t buy it for myself. My mother very graciously bought it for me with her inheritance money. She went out of her way to make sure I had a good working device for university. That iPad was over $2,000 aud. My e-reader?? $250!!! HUGE price difference. And it has helped me save so much money in the process. Cause if I read the ebook, and don’t like it, that’s okay, refund. If I do??? Then I can absolutely go out and hopefully track down a physical copy. If that’s not possible?? I still have the digital version. That I can enjoy over and over.

No, I’m not ignoring the cons to do with DRM, and companies censoring ebooks, not at all. But I feel like either way there is still more pros then what this person was giving e-readers credit for. She sounded privileged honestly, she may not have a use for e-readers. But to be saying that you don’t need one, and that they are completely unnecessary….its just incorrect.

I haven’t even touched on how e-readers help others with disabilities to be able to access books. I have a friend for example that has been very unwell for many years now. And because of this, she has fatigue and strength issues. She at one stage could barely hold a book. But once she got her kindle, she was so over joyed cause she could finally enjoy books again. Kindles are so light, they have stands etc. It honestly reminds me of the people that say audiobooks arnt counted as reading and you shouldn’t do it. Sure, let’s just alienate all the people that can’t read or have vision impairment right? (For clarity, I’m being sarcastic.) Or how about all the cultures that past on the culture, history, legends etc all by word of mouth?? For centuries, way before anyone invented written script. But that’s a whole other tangent I can go off about later.

If e-readers arnt for you, that’s totally fine. But to say no one has a need for them, because physical books exist, is just closed minded. Just because you have the privilege of a huge book library and may not have use of an e-reader, doesn’t not mean that other people don’t have a great use for them.

Anyway, that’s my rant. I don’t like ranting online. But this just frustrated me so much. No hate to this person personally, I just think they weren’t open to the possibilities of how these devices are used and fulfil needs for other people that live differently.

If you read this, cool! I hope you have a good day. And enjoy reading what you are currently 💝

[bloggingboutburgers]

I think everyone will benefit from properly tagging posts. xreader fics abd ship fics ONLY include the relevent _x_ tags but none of the character's name on its own, allowing all the usual fanart, theories and such to stay on the main name tag and not be crowded out by horny fanfiction (I say this as someone who very much enjoys very horny, very smutty xreader fanfictions. I want to be able to search the fics I want directly without having to trawl through headcanon posts, fanart, unrelated ship posts, etc.).

No one really has a tailored experience on the internet (I'm glad tumblr is at least a little more user dictated than advertiser algorithm based), but I do get the frustration and discomfort that comes from the abundant hornyposting feeling inescapable.

It's tempting to take offence to persistent cries against xreader stuff. I like special POV episodes of shows for the same reason I like xreader fics. My favourite characters WERE the company I kept, my only real form of companionship (albeit simulated) for many many years. Not because I am allo, basically. I sought something to meet my social needs growing up where I was unable to find community or companionship in real life.

Unfortunately, because they are usually sexual in nature I just came to associate a need for human connection with sex (so am I allo or just conditioned to blend sexual, platonic and romantic feelings and actions together?). I was just happy to feel like I had someone to hang out with. I knew they weren't real and that I needed to find real people to connect with (not for lack of trying, kids are just cruel. Finally made friends as an adult, yay).

Didn't intend for any of that to be so sad or pathetic, but hopefully it gives context for the prevalence of xreader fics. Alongside the varied reasons people write / read them (no just blind allo horniness), especially in light of the widespread loneliness epidemic over the past decade.

It's still more than ok to not want anything to do with them either (be it due to being aroace or not - I know plenty of allos who find xreader fics cringe).

Something I need to clarify here – we get it. Well, we don't fundamentally get it, but trust me, we've been told time and time again why people would write/draw/be into xreader content (it's all part of the package of "aroaces MUST put themselves in allo people's shoes at all times"), and we know they're perfectly legitimate reasons, and we don't find it sad or pathetic, or cringe. At the very least I don't at all. That's not what it's about. It's not something as surface-level at that.

The thing is... The same kind of understanding effort is VERY rarely put forward in return for us. And the fact that we're perceived as naysayers is symptomatic of this. We're not crying against xreader content. People are free to do whatever they want. We just want it to be tagged to keep ourselves safe, and so we can appreciate some variety and find fandom content we can properly connect with with the identity we have.

The issue isn't that there is xreader content, or heck, that there's lots of it. It's that, as @kaoruko-han put it, "everyone is assumed to be into this", and that you can't express something as simple as "I'd rather read something else" without being finger-pointed as a villain.

Yeah, no one has a tailored experience online, but there's still a very clear lack of balance on what is acceptable to tailor to or not (and for us, that includes tumblr). And trying to find fan-content while being sex-repulsed? Bruh, you'd better pray on your lucky stars and be ready to trudge through an ocean of stuff that's loaded with the very thing that makes you scared, uncomfortable or downright triggers a feeling of sickness in you, because a lot of it ain't tagged. An alarming amount of people don't bother, because why would people like you exist, right? There's only ever them, and puritan bigots. It's that black and white in a lot of people's heads.

Here's the difference though: we, too, want people to be able to vibe to whatever fan content they want. We just wish "people" included us properly in this case. As it stands now, trying to find fan content that won't give you an uncomfortable feeling as a sex-repulsed person feels kinda like this (I'll try to illustrate that to the best of my ability as a vague comparison, please no one take that as a clear parallel, I'm literally just trying to explain how it feels in a way people who have no idea how it feels might understand): you're not into gore at all, you don't wanna look at it, but your streaming platform keeps recommending you those series that are loaded with gore. You try to filter it out, but no matter where you go, you keep being recommended those series. And no one ever gets your discomfort and you're being branded as nothing but a wet blanket for not wanting to see gore. It's kinda like that.

At this point I admire sex-repulsed or romance-repulsed people who still TRY to find anything at all in fandom spaces. I've stopped reading fanfic altogether and I've largely stopped engaging with the large majority of fandom spaces for those reasons. And that wasn't an easy choice, or one that I find fun because it feels incredibly lonely, but it's the result of years of exhaustion and strain on my mental health trying to navigate something that's so hostile to me at its core, even if it's unintentional.

So... Yeah. We know the reasons, just like the content itself, they're kinda impossible to ignore. But we are largely being ignored in this, and it's not just something at an "ick" or "picky" level ; for a sex-repulsed person, being spammed with sex entails much more than that. It's not even frustration anymore at this point, it's downright despair a lot of the time. So... Yeah, like you said, everyone would benefit from stuff being more properly tagged. For us it'd be so huge to know our safety is taken into account – that we're taken into account at all. Thing is, we're not, and we're so invisible in this and most other things that at this point, I don't have much hope. Sex-related controversies allo people can understand would sooner create a change than anything done for our sake.