#i think it's also my issue where i have my comfort zone and i like my wordings but theres much more grammar to use and

[smollsmule]

Ok my queue spit this out after I saved it for later, so let me add some nuance here. Because this is a very importand issue, actually.

Of course nobody is prohibited from readin the books they enjoy. Hell, I like me some easily digestible fluff too! Some of my favourite book series are ya (and genuinely great books despite being “easy to read”).

There is something to be said however about limiting yourself to only engaging with that level of difficulty in reading. And before you come at me, I know that many people don't read at all and to many others reading is simply a hobby to unwind after a long day, where they just wanna turn their brain off and have some fun. Which is a totally fair reason to read. BUT. Reading (or more broadly, literacy) will never be just that. You live in an age of (mis)information and you WILL be confronted with texts (speeches, video clips, what have you) that are hard to dissect. Especially the ones that don't seem like it at first glance.

Media literacy is not only about how quickly you can summarise a paragraph or being able to pull quotes to show how maybe a character could be read as queer (although both of those things are a very good indicator of having advanced literacy). It's the VITAL skill of filtering and assesing information presented to you before so you can make an informed choice to internalise or discard it. It's being able to understand the information in the first place by grasping a complex thought presented to you in writing or in a speech because the simple truth is that not all truths are simple.

Media literacy gives you the ability of identifying that someone is trying to make you believe something and parsing why they're doing it by identifying the tools they are using. Which means you also need to know the tools they have at their disposal. It also means being able to connect points brought up before in the same or different texts to see if there is inconstencies or leaps in logic or if the argument someone is making only looks good because they use big words and a sentence structure that “feels” smart, but actually falls apart as soon as you poke at it a little.

Forgive me sounding alarmist, but if you can't read at that level people who have these tools WILL have power over you and you won't even have the tools to notice that they do. Even if people are not actively trying to harm or manipulate you, if you're unable to engage with their ideas you will get left behind in certain vital discussions and that not only feels like shit because everybody gets it but you, but it also again makes you incredibly vulnerable to those who do have bad intentions!

Now does that mean you only get to read Proust from now on? Of course not! I still do believe that a piece of literature can directly and fundamentally change your life. I know it has for me. However, that is a personal opinion and it doesn't mean I can force anyone to engage with deep philosophical manifestos on what it isto be human in this world. And even less that I want to do that, despite me thinking that literally ANYONE could benefit from reading that kind of thing. But you NEED to be able to read complex texts outside of your comfort zone for honest to god survival. I am so fucking serious.

And, hey! The good news is that this is not some secret mystical power you either get blessed with or not. It is a skill you can train, by reading challenging material. Books with more complex sentence structures, more nuanced ideas or arguments. Books that force you to think about them. I hate to say it but the only way to get better at reading is to read. It doesn't have to be fiction but i will be very real with you, I doubt that - if you're putting down a book because it's unreadable to you based on the chosen perspective - you'll be the type to pick up scientific essays or anything like that.

Don't cut yourself off from vital skills by locking your mind in a box. You are capable to handle those more complex texts, and I'd wager you'll even enjoy it once you find your niche (yes! you still get to have preferences!). You just need to give yourself a chance to learn.

[cosmojjong]

crazy to me how i perceive my korean vs how others perceive it

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[novy2sirius]

random astrology notes volume 4

༄ ҉ tw: trauma and abuse - please do not read this post if you’re sensitive to any of these subjects and understand that astrology does not guarantee anything

༄ ҉ these notes are based upon isolated placements and aspects, so take these with a grain of salt and remember that the entire chart matters

☁️ every taurus i’ve met has been super shy in the beginning but then once i get to know them they’re one of the craziest people i’ve ever met. i think it’s crazy when i see people call them boring. if you think they’re boring it usually means they haven’t come out of their comfort zone around you yet. what i love about them is that they can be really fun but at the same time have a good balance of knowing when to be serious/chill as well

☁️ cancer suns are often good at understanding peoples emotions and if evolved this can be a good thing because they will have a sweet and caring nature. if unevolved though this could manifest as them trying to emotionally manipulate others and use their weaknesses against them

☁️ i’ve heard people say leo’s or sagittarius’ have the biggest egos but from my perspective it’s the pisces suns. i believe this to be true when they’re unevolved because the sun is associated with the ego and pisces is ruled by both jupiter and neptune. jupiter represents abundance and neptune represents delusion which means having an abundance of ego and extreme delusion in regards to your identity/self

☁️ libra suns daddy issues aren’t talked about enough. the sun is associated with the father and it’s in fall when in the sign libra. 7h suns can also have a hard time forming a close bond with their father because of this since the 7th houses natural ruler is libra, or they could have a father who was abusive in some way

☁️ pisces tend to do this thing where they try to heal everyone around them and have this mentality of “i can fix them”.. trust me you can’t fix everyone. it’s best to be with people who bring out the best version of you and help you grow as a pisces

☁️ everyone i know with a gemini moon in the 9th house is fucking hilarious. like i die every time i’m with them. they’re also just really friendly usually and i feel like i learn so much random things when i’m with them. some of these things may not even be useful but it still fascinates me

☁️ gemini/sagittarius risings typically have lots of hobbies. they usually dabble in everything and are happiest when they’re constantly doing something or learning new things. when they sit still for too long or isolate themselves they usually spiral into a depression from what i’ve seen

☁️ every person i know with a capricorn rising or capricorn rising degree (10°/22°) talks in such a classy and intelligent way. for example: ariana grande, olivia rodrigo, jenna ortega, etc. they come off as old souls to me. a lot of them have dry humor as well

☁️ gemini/virgo placements make really good mental health advocates and are good at relating to others and making them feel like they’re not alone. especially if these signs are in their big six

☁️ everyone talks about mars/pluto in 1h people coming off as intimidating but chiron in 1h people be scaring me too sometimes. i don’t know what it is. some people say chiron has no effect on appearance but when in the 1h i’ve noticed it does make someone have an rbf and seem like they’re judging everyone when they’re not

☁️ venus at 27° can indicate being attracted to really intelligent and spiritual people. the downside is sometimes it can bring challenges in your love life due to numerology. 2 doubles the energy of any number it’s next to and 7 is the most challenging number when it comes to romance. this isn’t because anything is wrong with people that have this placement but because people with this placement are often extremely misunderstood by others. even when it comes to their platonic connections

☁️ placements that are at 1° in your chart can show areas in which you may be more immature or have a lot of growing to do. someone having more than two of these degrees could indicate anger issues and having a big ego if the person is at a lower vibration in life

☁️ the sun/uranus at 5° can indicate someone who’s a daredevil and loves having fun and doing a lot of crazy shit. random but they always have the weirdest kinks also

☁️ chiron can tell about your traumas. for example: having it in the 9th house can indicate having deep spiritual wounds involving religious trauma

☁️ juno to jupiter synastry is not ideal in my opinion considering jupiter (zeus) in mythology cheated on juno. more ideal marriage asteroids would be orpheus (3361) to eurydike (75) synastry because orpheus in mythology literally crawled into hell for his wife eurydike. if these asteroids are conjunct, sextile, or trine in synastry it can be very beneficial for a relationship and indicate loyalty as well as the man’s willingness to do anything for the woman

☁️ the fama asteroid (408) tells the specifics of someone’s fame and what it’s like for them as well as drama they tend to get into when famous. for example: hailey bieber and justin bieber have fama to venus synastry and they’re a famous couple but there’s lots of drama surrounding their relationship as well

☁️ venus in the 12th house in composite is so underrated. i see such beautiful couples with this placement. it typically indicates a couple having a deep spiritual connection and possibly knowing one another in multiple past lives. there is the possibility of an obstacle involving delusion in the relationship if there’s harsh aspects to this placement though

☁️ hot take: if you think 6th house energy in synastry or composite is boring it’s likely because you enjoy toxicity or crave someone who acts uninterested in you (at least a little bit). 6th house energy creates the desire to constantly be doing things for one another and helping each other. it makes you want to constantly improve the relationship together. at worst it usually only means being judgmental or critical of each other, but this is typically for the sake of wanting improvement to occur in the relationship or having concern for the other person about something

☁️ a 10th house stellium in composite isn’t always related to being work partners, doing things for the public, or being famous together. the 10th house is also associated with responsibility and stability. this stellium can create a long term relationship/friendship where two people bring out the more humble and responsible sides of one another because of this. at worst it could create a dynamic where one person feels like the other is too bossy and acts like their parent

☁️ having your venus in the 10th house in a relocation chart can mean being more likely to gain success and wealth in that specific location. you could possibly meet lovers through work as well or socialize a lot more in that area. you could even possibly become famous there for something involving the arts such as acting/theater, singing, dancing, painting, etc

☁️ in my personal opinion i think sun lines really are the best lines to live under in your astro world map. there isn’t a lot of cons to them besides maybe having an ego death or obstacles involving the ego in general. other than that these lines can show locations where we’re happiest, attract success, feel most confident, and can gain lots of popularity or even fame

☁️ living under your sun and pluto line in your astro map at the same time will cause you to have lots of ups and downs with happiness. one day you could feel on top of the world and the next you could feel like you wanna reincarnate into a rock instead of going on

☁️ living under a moon zenith on your astro map can be challenging emotionally if your soul is at a lower vibration at the time. you could experience lots of depression or feel more sensitive in a location with a moon zenith. if you’re at a higher vibration this zenith can bring lots of creativity and help your soul grow emotionally though

☁️ your D9 chart in vedic astrology can give hints about what your spouses name will be

☁️ in 2026 people born under the horse vietnamese zodiac will have a beneficial year or learn a very important lesson that helps them in the long run. since it’s a 1 universal year people born under the horse year are especially likely to become more confident this year and have lots of important new beginnings in their life

☁️ in 2027 people born under the ox vietnamese zodiac should lay low. this is because it’s their enemy year and typically in our enemy year either bad karma strikes or we must learn really challenging lessons. as long as you’re a good person this isn’t a negative thing though

☁️ in 2027 people born under the goat vietnamese zodiac will have a beneficial year or learn a very important lesson. since this is an 11 universal year people born under the goat are especially likely to becoming more spiritual this year or gain fame during this year

[leandra-kinard]

I can see your point that there's a clash of intention/topic here from your perspective. However, for me it was an opportunity to make a connected/related "counter" point (also not solely aimed at your original post but the added screenshot as well), because I also feel posts like yours could - under certain circumstances and through certain readings - be adding to a general harsher rift between the two factions than necessary. I'm definitely not saying that was your attention, but personally it's something that, let's say, slightly miffed me about this whole conversation a couple of times now, in a variety of posts.

I do understand why you think I should have made my own post on it, rather than adding to yours. But then again, I do enjoy a conversation and polite debate rather than just "ranting to the void". I believe it can be very beneficial to those engaging in such a debate in good faith and the ones reading it. But that's my POV. So I guess this is where we both clash in our preferences on how to add/debate or not debate/add to such posts, and that is fine.

Regarding the main points you made, you know how you meant it and what context you brought it up from - so in that regard it's fully valid - but some people may take it as "Ah look, this person, too, says the Buddies are homophobic (in general/often)". Tumblr reading comprehension and all, you know?

I am also definitely not saying you are erasing anyone's experience. I'm just saying, in general, this tendency to point to homophobia sometimes does that - albeit unintentionally, I assume. It is a bit of a slippery slope, imho, because sometimes the people expressing their wishes for a specific type of queer story (like what they imagine Buddie could have been like) are queer people who have made those very experiences or similar ones themselves - lesbians who fell on love with their best friend and finally gave up on comphet behavior, or people who believed themselves to be straight and realized they were bi after all (not dissimilar to Buck). I know you're not saying these people all come from a place of homophobia, but I personally see a risk of it being read that way. Of people falling into that mentioned trap of dismissing ANY pro-Buddie sentiment as homophobic /otherwise problematic.

So, regarding the last statement you quoted, this was meant more generally to the Bucktommy fandom and not per se you or your post. We are not having a private conversation here, we are doing it in front of an audience who will approach both what you and I are saying with highly individual biases and viewpoints.

There is no issue with the things you said per se, but imho the risk of certain takeaways that I have already seen expressed callously by other people, e.g. "Most of the Buddies are straight women who are deeply homophobic" or similar.

The whole Silken debacle is cringe AF, and embarrassing for the whole 911 fandom. And we really do not have to talk about some of the much more vile and toxic things that were said and done. I am in absolute and full agreement to call those instances out and, like you, am disappointed to not see enough of such calling out from the Buddie fans. That is highly regrettable and cowardly.

I also understand (through posts like yours even more deeply than I already did before, as a 44 year old queer woman who lived with a gay guy for many years and has known many gay men), that many especially young shippers have a sort of watered-down image of the "ideal gay relationship" that isn't reflective of reality. There's nothing wrong with having certain preferences when it comes to reading and writing fic, but there IS something wrong with painting things outside of that comfort zone as icky or bad (like all that shitty discourse on Tommy being predatory and similar stupid takes).

In years of shipping and engaging in fandom I've seen takes that were bordering on or veering into (unintentional) homophobia, or rather bigotry towards gay men in particular, because so much of it is based on a sexually/romantically inexperienced and predominantly female perspective. There's a difference between how lesbians and gay men live out their sexuality and love life - at least in tendency - and it's important to acknowledge that and, as you said, read up on gay culture if one isn't too familiar with some things. Or to simply acknowledge that many preferences and approaches are valid and good, and, as you said, here's not a limit to what kinds of queer representation should be present in popular media.

Anyway, I also appreciate that you replied calmly and in good faith. Just to make it clear again, I do not disagree with the things you said or with pointing out these particular examples. I just personally think it is important to also remember (and remind others - the "audience" of these debates) not to generalize as a takeaway from these very valid observations.

the more and more time i spend on tumblr and come across insane Buddie takes and behavior, the more and more i am convinced that the small, vocal, toxic subsection of shippers who don't know how to behave are, how shall i say it?

homophobic

they don't seem to actually like gay men. the situation with richard siken is an example of that. what they appear to like is their made-up version of what gay men are like and what they do. there's no concept of nuance or an actual understanding of queerness that informs their ship.

and i don't think you do need to understand it. sometimes you can just enjoy something without looking into it differently. but if you're going to be out on main talking about Buddie this and Buddie that, then you absolutely need to do the bare minimum and inform yourself on gay culture and gay issues so you don't, you know, go after a gay poet because you didn't like his tone.

sorry, there's a reason gay men of his demographic don't take shit. it's because they took so much shit that a large percentage of them died. the ones that survived don't owe you a tone when you act like an idiot.

the internet is free. wikipedia is free.

use a search engine and educate yourself, just a tiny little bit, and stop fetishizing while holding onto homophobic attitudes

[fungateshortcakes]

Fight or flight (Logan Howlett x Reader)

Summary: Your sister invited you and your husband Logan to her wedding! Too bad that the wedding was held in your hometown, which was days away from america if you drove by car. There was no other option than to use a plane - Logan wasn't exactly thrilled about it.

Warnings: implied sexual themes (Blowjobs, anal fingering), flight anxiety, possible spelling mistakes bc english Isn't my first language, overall just comforting fluff

Wordcount: 1.1k

Authors note: Does anyone want to peg Logan? Or have some sub!Logan stuff in general? I would write something like that because I have seen so little fics of it, but that makes me wonder if that’s even something people want :/ #JusticeForSubLogan

__________________________________

Logan hated this, he was only doing it for you. Your sister was getting married tomorrow and invited you and Logan to take part at the ceremony. Very nice of her, that also wasn't the issue. The problem was - she was getting married in your hometown, which was days away from america if you drove by car.

So that's why Logan found himself in a plane that was just about to take off.

You had booked a three-seat row to be a bit more comfortable on the eight-hour flight. You could store your bags on the empty middle seat between you and Logan to have free range of motion for your feet and legs. While you sat at the window, he was the furthest away from it. He couldn't bear to see the ground thousands of feets below you, it made his skin crawl.

He had fastened the seatbelt to the point where it was noticeably too tight against his abdomen, but it gave himself a sense of security. That and his right hand clawing at the arm rest while his left hand was crushing squeezing yours as if he was pushing out a baby. He certainly breathed like that was happening right now.

"Relax, the plane hasn't even started to move yet" you giggled softly, wincing at his strong grip. It definitely was a sight to see your husband all tense and stiff next to you, his chest heaving like he had run a marathon. It was amusing and pitiful at the same time.

He gritted his teeth and huffed, trying to calm himself. "We're gonna crash" he pressed out, looking down to his feet. "We are not gonna crash" you told him, squeezing his hand in reassurance. You knew about his past regarding planes and flying in general, that it was traumatic for him. Not to mention his fear of hights that made him feel anxious like nothing else. He felt sick to the stomach, like he was about to throw up. His chest was thight and he couldn't help the laboured breaths escaping him. You weren't doing this to see him suffer, but you weren't about to travel for a week by car and boat just to be at your sisters wedding for a day and traveling back for a week to america.

You lifted his hand up to your lips, kissing his knuckles soothingly. "Nothing will happen to you, nothing will happen to me. I promise"

He scoffed. "I hate you for putting me through this"

You nodded your head and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I know" you cooed. "Don't think I am doing this for fun. But at least she is my only sister to get married, so when we are back in america, you won't have to set foot in a plane for a long while, okay?"

Your words only did a little to sooth his nerves, but he nodded his head anyway. It was one, sharp nod followed by a thick swallow. Logan jumped as the plane started moving suddenly, getting out of his parking spot and heading to the departure zone. He pressed his eyes shut and held his breath, mumbling something to himself you couldn't make out.

You rubbed your hand up and down his arm, softly shushing him. You felt a bit useless in this situation. You wanted to help him, but there was no way you could. Nothing you would say would take his fear and anxiety away, but you were determinded to make it better.

The closer the plane got to the departure zone, the faster was Logans breathing. A few flight attendents passing through had been worried about him, asking if he needed something. But he was so scared he couldn't even answer nor look at them.

"First time flying" you lied awkwardly and asked for a pair of earplugs for him. They were brought to you shortly before the plane was starting to become faster, speeding down the lane and picking up the pace. Logan was busy doing some breathing excercises so he wouldn’t completely pass out. That would have been a better option though, because the second the plane took off and gained more and more distance from the ground, his ears ached like a dagger had been rammed into one ear and went out the other. He hissed deeply at the change of pressure, his grip on the armrest nearly cracking the plastic. For others, the pressure gave them a mild headache, but with his heightened sense of hearing, this was torture, like his skull was slowly ripping apart at the seams.

You shoved your bags on the middle seat under your feet and put the armrests up between the seats so you could pull Logans head closer to you. You twisted the earplugs into his ears and held his head against your chest, one arm looped back over his shoulder and covering his eyes, the other on his chest, feeling the strong and erratic thumpthumpthump of his heart. You kissed the crown of his head, your hand moving from his heart to his arm, softly rubbing and squeezing. He whined softly in your grip at the pain the change of pressure brought him. It was still there, but not as bad.

"Shh, I know. It's gonna be over soon. I won't ever take you on a plane again, I'm so sorry" you whispered to him. "Once that wedding is over and we get to the hotel room, I'm gonna make you re-live our own honeymoon. Gonna make you feel good, I'm gonna make you cum so much to make you forget this experience. I want to make it up to you, baby" you cooed into his ear, your quiet voice only muffled, but he heard you anyway. The image of you handling his cock flashed across his mind. When you were really into pleasuring him, nothing could pull your mouth off his dick. You would be busy devouring him, a few fingers loosening up his tight hole while your tounge circled the throbbing, angry red tip of his cock, making him cum his brains out by just pressing the pads of your fingers against that delicious sweet spot inside him. And you wouldn't stop until he only remembered your name.

He shuddered in your grasp and only a small smile pulled at his lips. Well, at least there was something to look forward to. And he was sure you'd pamper him for fighting through this.

As the plane was at it's desired height, his headache lessened and you were able to let him go to sit up straight again, but not before he gave you a soft, thankful kiss. He was a bit calmer now, not as rigid anymore. All thanks to you. He could do this...but only if you continued to hold his hand and smile at him as if there was not a single thing to worry about in this world.

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Part 4 - Part 5

You heard footsteps approaching, which made you wake up immediately, but when you felt hands on your shoulders, that's when you opened your eyes.

When you saw Jimmy sitting on your bed with his hands on your shoulders, you were surprised, although he also looked surprised to see you awake.

Jimmy: "Captain... I need to tell you something."

"...Is it so important that you had to wake me up in the middle of the nigth?..."

You sat down and turned on the light to see his face clearly, you didn't feel comfortable at all in this situation.

Jimmy: "I was thinking if we open the cargo, maybe we can find something useful there or gain access to some part of the ship that could help us-"

"Couldn't that really wait until morning? Did you have to come into my room?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out, he just took your hands and bowed his head, avoiding your gaze.

Jimmy: "I want to be helpful..."

You pulled your hands away from his and patted his head a couple of times.

"Alright, but let's wait until tomorrow, go get some rest, it's not good for you to be awake at this hours."

He nodded with his head still down and got up to leave your room, but you stopped him at the door.

"How... Is Curly doing?"

Jimmy: "Haven't you asked Anya?"

"She always tells me the same thing... I need to know his condition, I don't want to cling to false hope."

Jimmy: "Of course, she's going to tell you it's fine... Do you want the truth?"

You nodded at his question, preparing for the worst.

Jimmy: "I don't think he can hold on much longer, he's agonizing in the state he's in, his body is useless, he can't move, he can't speak, he can't even open his mouth on his own and can barely swallow. It's a dying dog waiting to be euthanized."

You covered your mouth upon hearing that, the harsh reality your husband was suffering.

You jumped out of bed and grabbed him by his uniform.

"You know the code, you can go see him. Take me there now!"

Jimmy: "I can't, the captain hasn't authorized it yet."

"He can't speak! Can't move! With that logic, I'll never be able to see him! It's an order!"

The man looked at you in silence and with seriousness, soon you let go of his uniform and ran your hands through your hair.

Jimmy: "Just imagine that he's already dead, maybe that way you can work with a cool head, captain."

Those were his last words before leaving your room.

You looked at your empty bed for a few seconds before sitting on it.

"He... is dead... like the cat of Schrödinger..."

You sighed and turned off the lights, trying to go back to sleep, too tired to keep thinking or to notice the unbuttoned buttons on your shirt.

Swansea: "No way, they told us to stay away from the cargo, it's completely forbidden."

"Do those rules really matter right now? Maybe we'll find something there."

Anya: "Maybe there are meds... We are running low..."

Daisuke: "It's not going to kill us to take a look!"

"Here we go"

You sighed as you headed to the cargo hold, the entire crew following you. You entered the code to open the door, and it slowly opened, revealing its contents.

You ventured into it, ignoring the boxes scattered around, more interested in finding something useful to bring you back to Earth while the others checked the cargo.

A light caught your attention, and you could see that there was a screen showing the ship's trajectory; there was a warning alert because they were moving away from the delivery zone. 

You looked closely and tried to figure out where they were going, your face lit up for a moment when you realized they were heading to one of the Pony Express stations.

You did the calculations to figure out how much they would reach.

That place was like a service station, where they could stop if they had any issues with the crew or the ship, but normally it was much faster to make the delivery than to go to one of these, which were too far from the delivery points.

"Maybe the asteroid changed our route and brought us closer to the station before the delivery point... Making the autopilot take us directly there... three months! In three months, we'll be there!"

You gave a small jump, excited about what you had discovered, soon going to the others to be able to inform them.

But just as you were about to reach them, there was a collapse of boxes in the aisle you were passing through.

You could hear their screams and how they called you, you felt a great weight on your body and it was extremely painful, your chest was crushed and you couldn't breathe.

You knew very well that those boxes were strategically placed to avoid damage, so you were sure that someone intervened to make them fall that way.

You let out a sigh, immediately spitting blood, trying to pull your hand out from between the boxes and the mouthwashes on you.

Until you were left with your hand raised and your eyes closed.

.

.

.

.

.

You jumped up with your breath quickened and clutched your stomach as you felt a sharp pain.

"I'm going to kill him"

You didn't take another second to get out of bed, clutching your stomach feeling the pain, but your anger was bigger.

When you were about to leave the nurseary, you heard a groan.

You slowly turned to see that man, or what was left of him, lying on that table.

[homunculus-argument]

Some people are oddly offended by the idea that you can naturally assume that if something feels like it should be easy to do, but nobody is doing it, then one can assume that it does not work, and that it isn't necessary to try it out for yourself to verify this. I have no problem looking at a supposedly obvious solution and going "if I can think of this, then surely someone smarter than me has already done so, too. And if someone smarter than me has not managed to do it, then neither will I. And I know that they did not succeed in it, because otherwise everyone would be doing it."

I think the people who mainly get offended by me saying "no, that won't work, because if it worked, it would be widespread" are the ones who don't believe that there are people smarter than themselves. If they have a genious solution that isn't already widely implemented, then obviously the only reason for that is because nobody else has been so smart before. And in cases where the solution is possible to execute, but it often goes terribly wrong even in the hands of experts with experience, then naturally that's a skill issue on them.

And they don't like it when I aknowledge that yes, technically speaking it could be possible to produce a home grown substitute for one of my three daily regular medications while living on an off-grid homestead. But the ingredients can't be grown at home nor sourced from nature, the process is complicated and highly risky even in experienced hands, and this kind of things are not only outside of my sphere of knowledge, but also far out of my comfort zone.

And ultimately, it simply wouldn't be very cottagecore to own and operate a meth lab.

[hot-astrology]

The Aqaurius Mind: Pluto in Aquarius, Age of Aqaurius, and 2024

The recent events surrounding Katt Williams have stirred my interest, though this event barely scratches the surface of the cosmic workings. The year 2024 portends a great unraveling, as deciphered through its numerology (8) : the influence of Pluto looms over this year, with its placement in Aquarius.

This year's fixed energies signal transformation (Aquarius and Scorpio) and raw power (Taurus and Leo), with Uranus and Jupiter in Taurus and Pluto in Aquarius. The impact of the fixed signs will be significant and profound.

Saturn's presence in Pisces heralds a great awakening. ;I am reminded of my own natal Saturn in the 12th house, which imbues this area of spirituality with discipline and authenticity.Saturn brings discipline and realness to this area of spirituality. And this is what we will see happening for those who are already tapped in. For those who are not this is another great chance similar to 2020 to awaken.

Turning to Vedic astrology, Saturn is positioned in Aquarius this year. In 2020, this was such a huge alignment the only difference is there won't be a great conjunction. But I could see similar potency already. With certain things being spoken about, and if you haven't heard. It's because the government (Saturn) is trying to hide (pisces) a lot of this information away from society. We are fully in the age of aquarius, and things will only continue to get exposed. And no matter how much certain authorities try to hide or stop it. It won't stop until the FULL truth is revealed. No matter how many people are killed, and etc. More and more will keep popping up until the mission is done.

Now switching to tarot, because this is how I connect a lot of my dots. The 21st card (The world card); This card consists of a lion (leo), an eagle (scorpio), a human (Aqaurius), and a bull (Taurus) We see all of these energies being pulled towards us. The world card is the very last card in the tarot deck and represents completion. Now, I would like to turn this over to venuz because he knows more about the cycles and years and stuff. But, I do, I want to also talk about the 10th card in tarot. This is the wheel of fortune. This card signifies karma, destiny, and fate. The cycle of life. This card also resembles the world card but not in a way where things are ending. It shows how life goes on & on. This card also has The Lion, The Bull, The Human, and The Eagle. The four corners of the world/ The angels of the four directions. We see how that number 4 is so significant. These are cycles, and fixed is the last stage. Beyonce was right, America really does have a problem...... The Seal has been broken. ☺ Now, to you venuz.

Cycles......Yes, cycles! Everything evolves in cycles and changes, it's only so long you can stay in the same scenario or comfort zone without chaos knocking at your door. Aquarius is all about change and revolutionizing its surroundings and its people. This energy is at its boiling point. Every 20 years there's a recurrent cycle of same-aged groups with specific behaviors that change. So, if you add 3 more cycles to that it will be a 4 cycle switch, which every generation would affect the other. When the 80-year mark comes around it is a crucial period. Everything is done in cycles, it doesn't matter what it is. Saturn in Pisces will materialize everything you think of, or focus on. This will also bring about what you have been hiding, and not speaking. Thoughts of your subconscious will be brought to the surface, and some will have to face those fears. For Example, Katt Williams has known all of these lies, secrets, backstabbing, cheating, phony, and false allegations, so it's being materialized. All his thoughts, dreams, and deep-rooted issues about other comedians came out to the forefront without any care. As he spoke and exposed their behaviors in front of millions (mass 11th house) and demanded a change (pluto). This calls on the energy of Pluto in Aquarius.

Pluto in Aquarius loves erratic behavior and unexpected scenarios. Pluto comes with a punch and is at full throttle here. Many people are outspoken now and about change and freedom. Aquarius is all revolutionary and Pluto is a generational planet so change is bound to come. This is just the beginning of this world being destroyed and reconstructed into a new and profound system that isn't in line with these new powerful souls. This makes an 80-year period. 10 more years from now will make 90 years which is energy 9 which will be the completion of a major cycle. 8 is just the transformation period and reconstructing period, everything and everyone who wasn't living in their own essence and misusing their fortune, fame and financial abundance in a non conducive manner will reverse roles and be exposed for their inequality.

Like gorgeous Moon Devi said they're trying to hide what they're up to but Saturn in Pisces is revealing everything they have been hiding. So everyone wakes up to all those lies, takes off the rose-colored glasses, no more fantasy land, and is in a delusional state of mind. Pluto in Aquarius will allow everyone to have a voice and speak up, change what's not right, and stand for something even if you never did your whole life. If you were born in this era or if you were born to still be alive in this era get ready for the showdown. If watched in Living Color, this movie promises to be a captivating experience, delivering the answers to long-standing questions and revealing hidden truths. It has the potential to evoke personal fears, making them tangible and forcing introspection. It's a crucial time for everyone, not just celebrities or elites, to focus on self-healing, purification of the soul, and actualizing personal aspirations. Astrologically, the influence of Aquarius, which rules the 11th house of hopes and aspirations, and Pluto provides the necessary impetus to transform negative situations into positive ones, for oneself and the greater good.

However you envision your world to be, you will get the results in this transit. Imagine yourself as a kid at the art table, and you have a box of crayons, an blank piece of paper. The teacher tells you to draw your new world. How would you create it? Would it consist of peace, prosperity, and love? Then she says," Stand up in front of the class, and explain what your world looks like." You say it out loud in front of the class with conviction and power. Then you close your eyes and watch it manifest right before you, VOILA!!! 

From two aqaurius/uranus dominant spirits, ~ Prinz Venuz & Moon Devi

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔: 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐳 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢

[starsworldd]

⁂ astro observations pt. 8 ⁂

take with a grain of salt and only take what resonates <3

☆ the expression ��don’t follow your feelings” does not apply to cancer rising/sun. when these natives follow their true genuine feelings (not feelings out of spite, revenge or other intentions alike) it leads them to great happiness and success

☆ don’t mess with aquarius and cancer risings. that martian (aries and scorpio) ruled 10th house isn’t for nothing y’all!

☆ scorpio moons could struggle to get into relationships because of the intimacy issues

☆ moon conjunct mercury and ranting all the time (although if it’s in scorpio the effect is lessened i find)

☆ saggitarius suns tend to have well-to-do fathers they don’t necessarily have to have rich fathers but these people may find a lot of opportunities through their father

☆ mars-lilith aspects are some powerful people, seriously don’t mess with them

☆ scorpio moon x scorpio moon relationships don’t really work in my experience😭

☆ i don’t care how many times it’s been said leo risings are so magnetic, people tend to obsess over natives with this placement

☆ more on that, leo rising is the most different out of 5th house/leo placements. 5th house/leo placements tend to be more energetic and outgoing but then leo rising i think tend to be more laid back and people naturally flock to them

☆ 7th house synastry is giving enemies to lovers

☆ saggitarius moons tend to embody that happy-go-lucky, optimistic attitude more than the suns

☆ people who have uranian influence on their rising tend to have extreme heights (ex: ariana grande is really short, she has uranus conj. asc., taylor swift is really tall, and she also has the same aspect)

☆ the way that people are obsessed with cancer moons because of that approachable, relaxed demeanor

☆ virgo mercuries are blunt but not blunt like saggitarius, aries, or scorpio mercury

☆ mercury conjunct jupiter people find opportunities through the people they talk to and their communication style (like saggitarius mercuries, these people are also blunt)

☆ people who have venus retrograde tend to be more on the quiet side, but they can also be really funny when they do have something to say

☆ it is really important for people who have seesaw shaped charts to master the axis in which the seesaw is happening in (e.g, 1st-7th house seesaw have to master confidence and diplomatic values and learn when to use both or 3rd-9th house axis seesaws have to learn how to balance having experiences with others within their comfort zone vs outside their comfort zone, etc..)

☆ natal saturn in 2nd house shows someone who doubts their abilities/skills often not just their self-worth

☆ something with taurus mars and biting people …

☆ if someone’s rising falls in your 12th house, you may feel as if you don’t get to see the rising in-person that often

☆ scorpio in your chart shows where you’re powerful but also where others will try and tear you down

☆ lilith can show where we feel/are the bad guys? im not so sure about this let me down below what your thoughts are!

hope you enjoy!

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + six

authors note: i really like how this one came out. hope you guys do too.

i use some psych terminology, so just as a lil glossary: pt=patient, dx=diagnosis, hx =history, fx=functioning status (mental stability, essentially) and hopefully everyone can understand the rest with context clues.

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

cw/tw: fluff, language, medical report following suicide attempt, discussion of sexual abuse, mention of torture

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

words: 10k (i don't know how to write short chapters, clearly)

The last thing Solana expected to wake up to is a handwritten note left for her in the same journal she deposited on Roman’s bed despite her better judgment. She was filled to the brim with anxiety regarding that bold decision, asking him to do something she’s certain is miles outside of his comfort zone.

She expected him to ignore her. 

What she didn’t expect was for him to reply.

Reading over his words, Solana struggles with the ease of his acquiescence. He indicated it could be short term, but she’ll take that, because it’s a hell of a lot easier for her to talk to this man if it’s through written word.

And the last part. 

There’s nothing you can’t tell me.

There’s actually a lot she can’t tell him. A lot he can never know. No one can know, but the sentiment behind it…..it has her puzzled. He has her puzzled. 

Solana grabs the journal and scans the kitchen for a pen when a thought crosses her mind. She bites down on her bottom lip, forever battling with the idea of something vs the actuality of carrying out the plan.

In a plot twist, she sides with the plan and pulls out her phone, searching for Roman’s contact.

She types, deletes, and does so again at least three times before settling on a text that really could have been conjured and sent in seconds vs the solid ten minutes she takes to issue it out.

Solana: Hi. Thank you. Do you think we could text too? I know that writing is my thing, but I can text if that’s easier for you too….thanks.

Solana nearly tosses her cell phone on the large slab that is his granite kitchen island and moves around to figure out what she’s going to fix for breakfast. The perfect excuse for her to not think about the knots in her stomach at her message. It doesn’t stop the overthinking though.

What if she’s asking too much? Pushing him too far out of his comfort zone? It doesn’t take long for her to regret her decision, wishing it was still within the time limits to unsend her message.

And then her phone dings.

Solana nearly drops the egg she was about to crack over the skillet. Swallowing, she places it back in the bowel as her feet slowly carry her to the phone that has now dinged a second time. Her fingers dance against the sides of her pants, stretching and scratching the cotton. 

Lifting her phone, she unlocks her phone and heads straight to his thread.

Roman: Yes.

It’s a simple response that makes sense for him and is beneficial for Solana who sighs in relief at his agreement. She stews on how to respond, eventually settling on a simple thank you as well as answering his question. The least she can do. 

Solana: Thank you…

Solana: And I don’t work this weekend. 

Solana: Can I ask you something?

Solana again starts chewing on her bottom lip as she mentally berates herself for bombarding him with messages when he’s probably in the middle of working.

But even so, that doesn’t stop him from replying almost instantly.

Roman: You don’t have to ask if you can ask me something, Solana. Just ask. 

It’s hard not to imagine the frustration on his face at answering her question while also having to remind her of what he’s already stated at one point or another. 

Solana: Okay…

Solana: Where are we going?

She’s unsure if he will respond and has accepted that he may not, which is okay with her. He’s already being more responsive than she initially anticipated he would. And Solana is barely able to put the skillet on the fire before her phone is buzzing again.

Roman: You’ll see.

His answer makes her frown. It’s not what she wanted to hear, but it’s also not a complete disregard or verbal lashing for asking a simple question.

Solana prepares to leave it as is when Roman’s voice is in the back of her mind, nudging and reminding her of his desire for her to communicate with him more.

Nervous fingers type out an expression of said nerves.

Solana: Okay….surprises just make me nervous. 

She doesn’t have time to put her phone down when those three dots appear, indicating he’s typing.

Roman: It’s nothing bad.

Roman: I wouldn’t lie to you. 

And for some strange reason, Solana believes that. Roman doesn't seem like a man to lie in general, because he’s too blunt for that. 

Unless….

Unless it’s one of his mind games, because he is notorious for that. Still, she can’t find a reason why he would waste his time playing one of those with her. 

Solana: Okay. Sorry to text you while you’re working.

Roman: You’re apologizing again.

Roman: And I don’t care. 

Roman: I’d rather talk to you than listen to the twins bullshit.

Solana tries to not put too much into his words, into him saying that he wants to talk to her. It’s not that he directly wants to speak to her, more she’s the lesser of two evils. Nothing to get into her head about.

Solana: They’re kinda funny….🙈

Roman: You’d feel differently if you had to deal with them all the time. 

Solana: Fair.

The exchange is so in the moment, back to back, that she doesn’t put her phone down again until her last message. She then returns to preparing her breakfast. 

Solana is frying her eggs, adding in seasoning when her phone dings again. Wiping her hands on her apron, she expects a message from Bayley or even Naomi.

Especially Naomi. She needs to talk to her about what happened, apologize for putting her in what must have been an awkward situation.

It’s neither of them.

Roman: How’d you start writing?

Roman continuing or prolonging the conversation isn’t something she saw coming. But, the message is right there in white writing against that gray background.

Solana briefly debates how honest to be in her answer, deciding to step a bit out of her comfort zone in offering more than just her usual three to five word responses. 

Solana: My mom. She spoke English, but she wasn’t fluent, so she’d write letters to me in Spanish, and I’d have to respond in English so we both could learn.

Solana: My dad wouldn’t let her teach or speak it around me and Wes so that was the only way I/she could learn.

He stops replying after that, and Solana feels stupid for being so open, for not just giving him a simple answer with all of the unnecessary verbiage.

And then her phone goes off.

Roman: Not surprising. 

When he doesn’t say anything else, Solana debates on whether to end it there or follow up with another question given that he asked one first. It feels like returning the favor or reciprocating manners.

Hence, she decides on texting him again. 

Solana: What is that language you speak to the twins sometimes?

Roman: Samoan. I’m fluent. Italian and English as well. 

That’s not entirely surprising. Roman is obviously a well educated, well rounded man. 

Roman: You’re more perceptive than you let off.

Solana: Maybe. But no one ever cares what I have to say or think, so it doesn’t make sense to share it. 

He stops replying after that.

And Solana tries to not think too much about her disappointment, moving around the kitchen to finish fixing breakfast as a distraction.

A poor distraction, because not even twenty minutes later, she’s ready to check her phone again even if it hasn’t made the special sound that makes her belly flutter. However, the sound of the doorbell pulls her from that premature excitement.

Solo comes to meet her in the kitchen informing matter-of-factly, “it’s Naomi and Bayley.” 

Solana stills. That’s definitely not someone she expected to see so soon. Neither of them.

“Invite them in?” Solo’s voice tinges with borderline irritation, which she can understand.

Cheeks reddening, she apologizes. “Yes. Sorry. Of—of course.”

Solana hears Bayley before she sees her. “Damn. This is how it’s like to live as the Tribal Chief's wife? Maybe shit isn’t so bad after all.” The two walking in wearing friendly smiles brings back Solana’s grin.

“Hey there. We wanted to come check on you.” Naomi introduces, the first to ask, “is it okay if we hug you?”

Solana doesn’t hesitate as much as she would expect herself to. “Yes.” 

Naomi also doesn’t hesitate and steps forward, hugging Solana in such a sincere way she’s not sure she’s experienced in years. Since her mom. 

And Bayley does the same, maybe even a little tighter.

The three of them sit down at the kitchen island as Bayley asks in a sympathetic tone. “How you doing, lady?”

“Better.” It’s an honest answer, and Solana can’t help but think about the additive that it’s largely due to Roman. But, she keeps that part to herself. She looks at Naomi. “I’m so sorry—“

Naomi lifts a manicured finger to silence her. “Girl, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I’m sorry I didn’t know what was going on. You could have told me too, but I get it must have been hard for you.”

This part had Solana deeply nervous, the part where she’d have to ‘face’ Naomi after causing such a scene and getting the whole place shut down for an entire day, So, for the woman with the penchant for bold colors that look delightful against her complexion to be so understanding and empathetic, it means a lot to Solana.

It means a lot that Bayley would also even tag along when she wasn’t even part of that chaotic ordeal.

“Just know you can tell us anything. We’ve got your back,” Bayley affirms, adding with a smirk. “And clearly your big bad husband does too.”

We’ve got your back.

Solana doesn’t even know where to begin comprehending and swallowing that. 

Thankfully, she doesn’t have too long to be in her head, because Naomi starts talking again. “That was wild,” she comments with a shake of her head and then looks at Solana. “Oh shit, you probably don’t know, do you?”

Solana’s stomach does the opposite of butterflies, the uncomfortable clenching and twisting that accompanies anxiety. “Know what?”

There’s no delay with the answer.

“Theory and Waller are dead.” Solana wasn’t sure what to expect to hear Naomi say, but even if she tried to guess, that would have never been one of her options.

Confusion is painted all over her face. “Wha—what?”

Dead.

The two men who just yesterday caused her to breakdown and revert back to her teenage years where dissociation was her coping mechanism, the men who’d been sexually harassing her with zero regards for her as a human and even more, as Roman’s wife….are dead.

It feels almost impossible to be true. 

Bayley backs up Naomi’s assertion, adding, “yeah, he had their bodies, or what was left, displayed at the Warehouse this morning.”

Chills travel up her spine. “W–why?”

It’a a word aimed towards a lot of the questions Solana has unanswered. Why are they dead? Why did Roman kill or have them killed? Sure, she expected there to be some form of punishment, merely for the simple fact that messing with her was a clear sign of disrespect toward him, which the Tribal Chief would never tolerate. But, for them to be killed, in such a what sounds like a gruesome manner, and their remains to be left for all to see?

Why?

Bayley answers with a shrug of her shoulders. “To send a message.”

Solana is surprisingly fast with her follow up. “W-what message?”

Naomi is quick with the answer, but in general, she seems to be knowledgeable about a lot of things Bloodline. “You’re Bloodline now. No one messes with us. And you’re Roman’s wife? Yeah, he’s making sure everyone knows what happens if they even think about fucking with you.”

It lines up, Solana reflecting back on Roman’s departing declaration the night before.

“I told you. No one lays a hand on you. I’m gonna make sure everyone understands that shit from here on out.”

She just never expected such a….big message. 

“Honestly, they were fucking creeps anyway.” Solana cannot and does not disagree with the first part of Bayley’s statement, the second part, however, is iffy for her. “They got exactly what they deserved.”

Solana neither agrees or disagrees with that.

“I’m thinking we do your training from here for a little while,” Naomi suggests. While her initial response is to apologize for any inconvenience this may cause Naomi, Solana can’t deny the fact that just the thought of walking back in that building right now makes her physically ill. “I know Roman got a state of the art gym here and that massive backyard of yalls? This will do just fine.” 

“Oooh, I gotta see this.” Bayley then asks, “Solana, are you working today?”

“No, I called out.” Solana needs at least a day to get her mind right, hence taking today off.

Bayley then suggests, “Naomi and I were gonna go shopping. Why don’t you come with us?” 

It's an interestingly timed question given one of Solana’s text exchanges with Roman not even an hour ago included him informing her that the stack of envelopes on the kitchen island earlier were her new set of cards, all linked to his accounts. 

And he made sure to reiterate again that there is no limit. For any of them.

Bayley then decides and declares, slapping her hand on the island. “Matter of fact, we’re not asking. We’re telling you that you’re going shopping with us.” That is something Solana is familiar with, never being asked, always being told.

It’s just rare, if ever, it’s something that isn't entirely bad or terrible she’s being told she needs to do. 

“I’ve been wanting to take you shopping for forever anyway. Because as sweet and great as you are, Solana, you dress like college freshman meets Billie Eilish.” Before Solana can ask what exactly that means, Naomi explains. “So much neutral and dark colors. And everything is oversized. I can tell you’re kind of insecure about your body, but you literally have no reason to be because you have an amazing shape.”

Solana doesn’t say anything, but her hand naturally goes to one of the scars on her arm from that night. 

Naomi notices this and advises in a gentle voice, “we all have scars, Solana. Some you can see and others you don’t.” Solana has both, and it’s a miserable experience. “That doesn’t mean you have to hide them and be ashamed.” 

“Naomi is right.” Bayley agrees, and something tells Solana she’s going out shopping today whether she wants to or not. “We are going to help you learn to embrace your curves one better fashionable choice at a time.” 

________

Solana can probably count on one hand how many times she’s gone shopping in person over the past couple years. Maybe longer. She mostly sticks to online shopping when she is in need of a couple new pieces, always sizing way up so she can assure that it fits. More so drapes over her body, but that’s always been the preference.

She’s also never shopped at stores where the price for a single item can be upwards to three to four figures, which apparently isn’t the case for Bayley and Naomi.

Cause one of the first items they pick up for her is a single blouse that reads $650.00 on the price tag. Solana nearly faints when she reads that. That’s probably the entire cost of her wardrobe put together. 

She’s starting to regret telling them about Roman adding her to his accounts. Naomi especially seemed thrilled at that, and she seems to be the one piling the cart with more and more items. Bayley also offering her fair share of contributions.

All the while Solo keeps a safe but comfortable distance, wearing that infamous stoic expression, Solana can’t help but wonder how he must be feeling about this, about having to spend his time watching her while she shops. It can’t be enjoyable for him at all. She feels sort of bad. 

“Oh my god, you have to try this on.” 

Feeling bad for someone else morphs into feeling bad for herself, to a certain extent, when Solana sees the dress that Naomi is holding up for her. 

In all interactions, Solana does her best to be polite and kind, to never invite a volatile or mean response. “Ummm, I don’t—I don’t think that’ll look good on me.”

It won’t look good for a lot of reasons, the main one being it’s too small. Solana can see the thin sleeved dress is intended to be form-fitting—another major red flag—but even with that, it’s obviously a size, or eight, too small.

Naomi makes a sound. “Girl, that’s just how it looks. It molds to your shape, and with all your curves, I know it’s going to be a killer look.” She then pushes it in Solana’s direction again. “At least try it on. You never know unless you try.”

But Solana does know. She knows this dress is going to draw attention to all of her flaws. The rolls, the pudge of her belly, her big arms, and those damn scars. But, she also doesn’t want to be rude, so she agrees, disappearing in the dressing room before emerging a couple minutes later, never once checking her reflection before doing so. 

She walks to where the ladies are waiting, asking with an awkward shrug of her shoulders, “well?”

Naomi gasps. “Holy shit, that looks amazing on you, Solana!”

“Of course it does. You see that body?” Bayley joins in on gassing her up, adding, “it really does look good, Solana. We wouldn't lie to you.”

Huh. That’s the second time today Solana has been told that. 

Bayley then instructs her to look at her reflection in the full body mirror of the dressing room, a dreaded task but one she makes herself complete. 

Solana does her best to try to be as neutral and not negative towards her appearance, but it’s hard when she keeps honing in on the scars on her arms, the one on her face, not to mention her weight and how, to her, it just seems too much. 

Her father’s sharp and consistent criticism starts to return to the forefront of her mind when she notices Naomi snap a photo. Turning on her heel, she asks with a level of nervousness, “w–what are you doing?” 

“Helping you to realize how bad as hell you are.” Naomi says it so casually, so calmly, turning her phone toward Solana. “See.”

It’s a thread, a group chat, and along with the picture Naomi just snapped, there’s an accompanying text.

Naomi: Solana is being stupid and thinks she looks bad in this dress. Please prove me and Bayley’s point. 

Solana’s eyes go wide when she realizes just who is in this group text. Jimmy, Jey, and Roman. 

Her stomach is twisting all over again. “Naomi, I—I don’t think—”

Naomi’s phone chimes, and a smile grows on her face as Bayley moves closer to Solana. 

Naomi starts laughing and then smirks as she flips it so Solana and Bayley can read. “I rest my case.”

Jey: Damn, Soso 👀 Hell yeah, she look good. Goddamn! 😫

Jimmy: I GYAT to start coming over to ya’ll house more, Uce. 🍑

Bayley makes a wolf sound, playfully shoving Solana whose cheeks are reddening by the second after reading the surprising response from the twins. She definitely either expected no response or an either kind or unkind disagreement. “We told you, girl. You look amazing.” Bayley then comments, directing her statement to Naomi. “Man, you and Jimmy definitely have a strong ass relationship, cause I’d be ready to kick his ass.”

Naomi shrugs, simply responding. “We trust each other. I know it stops at just looking for him. Same for me.”

Her phone makes a sound, and she reads whatever the latest incoming messages are, instantly rolling her eyes. “Roman is such an ass sometimes.”

Solana’s ear perks up at the mention of his name as she asks, “what did he say?”

Naomi turns her phone again so Solana can read for herself, her stomach twisting with anxiety when she reads his trenchant reply.

Roman: Shut the fuck up.

Roman: Unsend this shit, Naomi. Now.

But before Solana can panic about his response, her phone dings and she pulls it out to see his name on her lockscreen. Instead of delaying the inevitable, she unlocks to read his response, anticipating the worst.

Roman: You look good.

Roman: But you always look good. 

Solana has to read his text a couple of times before it actually registers. He thinks she looks good. Roman thinks she looks good. Even more, he thinks she always looks good. Solana doesn’t know how to take that, even though there really is only one way to take such a message.

Bayley and Naomi being the bit of nosy Nancy’s that they are, sneak a peek at Solana’s phone and also read his text. Bayley is the first to speak, displaying that knowing dimpled smile. “Ha! See. The Tribal Chief himself has spoken.”

Naomi and her share a laugh as Solana finds herself also with a small smile. Roman had told her the night of WarGames that she looked beautiful, and she hadn’t really known how to take that either, chalking it up to the face full of makeup and fancy updo.

But this photo Naomi snapped and sent shows her without a lick of makeup on, hair messily pulled back and out of the way. It’s literally just her in a dress, a dress she normally would never dare to brave, but something Roman apparently thinks she looks good in.

“Does…..does he really think I’m beautiful?” It’s a question she never intended to leave the safe confines of her mind, but it’s a rebel, sneaking its way out and landing on the doorstep of the two women before her.

Bayley, as per usual, is the first to speak. “Is that a serious question? Of course he thinks you’re beautiful, because you are. You’re absolutely stunning, Solana. You have to see that.”

“Most of the men at your wedding kept commenting on how pretty you are. And your boobs, of course, because men have no couth.” Naomi rolls her eyes but continues. “And as someone who has had the displeasure of knowing Roman literally since we were in elementary school, I can tell you that you’re 1000% his type.”

Solana doesn’t believe that Naomi has reason to lie to her. Bayley either. And as Naomi has been around the family for so long, her word has to be true. But, Solana has a hard time separating the fact that Roman, who has someone as beautiful and unflawed like Samantha, in the same vein, could think someone like her is beautiful. 

Samantha is beautiful, and someone he can actually touch.

Because regardless of how he views her, it all comes down to that. Physical intimacy. One of many things that Solana can’t give him.

But Samantha can.

Samantha does.

That’s why she was in the house that day, doing what Solana should but can’t because she’s too fucked up, too damaged, too broken. 

Bayley reaches over with a comforting hand, switching to Spanish. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t. You’re beautiful, Solana. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Fuck anyone who’s ever said different.”

Solana isn’t quite sure how to describe how grateful she feels in this moment, to have such support, to have people be so genuinely and sincerely supportive. She hasn’t had that in so long, she’d almost forgotten that it was possible.

Emotion thick, she responds in the same language, “thank you, Bayley.”

“Okay, now that’s just not fair. I wanna know what’s going on too.” Naomi’s protest and almost childlike pout makes Solana smile, a nice break from the heavy emotional experience going on in her head. 

“Just some girls supporting girls shit.” Bayley shrugs and claps her hands together. “Okay, now let’s see what sexy little red pieces we can find for you….”

________

Texting and writing with Roman on and off for the rest of the week was never on Solana’s agenda, but it’s exactly what’s been happening. 

And she has no idea what to make of it. 

Every time there’s a delay with his response, she assumes that’s it. That’s the end of the conversation. Only for her phone to buzz with not only a response but usually a follow up question.

It’s almost as if he wants to keep the conversation going, but that can’t be it. She can’t see why he’d want to speak with her.

Even if he literally stated that he’d prefer to talk to her than listen to his cousins bicker. Still, his entire day can’t involve their presence. There has to be some separation at one point or another. 

But even with that, he’s consistent with eventually replying, acknowledging her messages even if the responses come hours after her first one was sent. 

And for the life of her, Solana cannot find a good or logical reason as to why her stomach flutters with a modicum to medium level of excitement every time her phone dings. 

Because she thinks it’s another text from Roman.

Because she’s enjoying speaking with him. Because she seeks out opportunities even while working to check her phone and see if he’s text her. It’s not traditional communication, and she’s certain there’s no way in hell she’d be able to talk to him this freely, this comfortably if it was verbal. 

Not a chance.

But in texting, she finds a level of ease that makes it significantly easier to get to know him. And maybe that’s what it is, she has some level of desire to get to know him more. If this “marriage” is to last, whatever that looks like, it feels like she needs to know more about him other than that he’s big, strong, and a killer.

Those traits more than speak for themselves, but there’s gotta be more, and there is. Like her now knowing he speaks three languages fluently and would like to pick up another someday if he ever has the time. Or that he works out at least twice every day and doesn’t feel right if he can’t get in at least one workout.

Similarly, Solana finds herself reciprocating his sharing of information, small facts that aren’t major but make a smidge of difference. Like her love of books and words. The few shows she enjoys. She especially doesn’t understand where that comes from. The sharing on her end. It’s something similar like her growing relationships with Bayley and Naomi. 

But that’s different, so so different, for a variety of reasons. One, they’re women, and while anxiety is something she struggles with in interactions with all individuals, regardless of sex, it’s much easier with them than men.

And Roman is not the average man, far from it.

He scares her.

Or does he? 

Solana has been struggling to make sense of the fear that often cripples her and the behavior he’s shown her thus far. They don’t add up. Sure, he’s expressed irritation and a level of anger towards her, but both were more than warranted. And even in those moments, there was still a level of control and composure. He didn’t scream at her. Didn’t belittle her. Didn’t hit her. 

And his words from earlier that week circle back around to the front of her mind.

Even that day at her job.

He’s made it clear now two times that he has no plans or desire to ever hit her. Initially, that didn’t mean anything to Solana, because she’s never known a man in her life to never beat on her. The second time, it made her start to wonder if he was telling the truth.

And now, in a week of genuine and okay interactions, maybe even good interactions, that wondering of the truth is gradually meshing into believing.

Especially because something tells her Roman’s not a man to lie, not unless he’s playing one of his infamous mind games. And what reason would he have to play a mind game with her of all people?

She’s nobody.

But not enough of a nobody for him to end the conversation, which she’s expected all week but yet to see happen. Even more, a part of Solana feels like he’s also wanting to keep the conversation going, matching her with the questions vs just responding and leaving it as is. 

And Solana appreciates it a lot, maybe even to the point where she’s gradually starting to appreciate him.

If she doesn’t already.

It’s why she doesn’t mind waking up earlier than she already does to fix breakfast and get ready for work to do something for him that she hopes he views as nice while he gets in his morning workout in the home gym.

Finished and almost too nervous to stay around for his response, she grabs the notebook, leaving a quick message before heading up the stairs to get in at least another hour of sleep as there’s still leftovers from yesterday’s breakfast.

Roman,

I noticed you tend to start off your breakfast with a protein shake. I saw how you make it, so I figured I’d just make it for you. Less for you to do.

Hope that was alright.

Solana

________

Roman didn’t plan to text and write Solana as often as he has. It just…..happened.

She was right in that communication does seem smoother and even easier through this channel. It’s also nice to “hear” her communicate without all that damn stuttering and stammering. Her texts and letters read so much better than actually listening to her speak aloud.

Not that her voice isn’t pleasing to some extent. It is. Soft and almost melodic, minus the fucking stutters. 

Roman is in the middle of reviewing income spreadsheets when Jimmy walks into his office and

drops a stack of paperwork on top of Roman’s desk. He then plops down in one of two chairs opposite his cousin. “Solana’s medical records.”

Roman is pleased, thankful to the Wise Man for his promptness regarding his request.

“There is something you should know though.”

Instantly, Roman is annoyed, because he recognizes that tone of Jimmy’s. The tone that lets Roman know he’s not going to like what he’s about to hear. “What?”

“Apparently, information is missing.”

“What do you mean it’s missing? Find the fucking hospital that has them. I want all of her records.” Roman’s orders were clear as day, and he fucking hates when even with comprehensible issuance, there’s still a fucking problem. 

“That’s all that’s available. Paul said the records indicate shit was deleted or something. Like cleared out of the system.” Before Roman can express his dissatisfaction and suggestions, Jimmy explains, “He said he consulted with Pearce to see if he could retrieve the files, but even he couldn’t get them. Something about systems changing over time and not being compatible. You know, all that tech shit Pearce be talking.”

Roman was right. As always. He’s annoyed.

Because he knows exactly who would have had a hand in something like this.

Xavier.

He expresses as such. “It was Xavier. Son of a bitch probably had it deleted somehow.” Roman knows Miller has hands and ties in the medical community as well as social services, though that power and leverage has definitely dwindled over the years due to Miller’s mounting financial problems. However, around the time Solana was a kid was very much the peak of Miller’s paltry empire. 

“What exactly are you looking for, man?” Jimmy asks, trying to get a read on his cousin, never an easy feat. If at all possible. “I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s obvious Solana been through some shit. You really need to know all of it?”

It’s a sound question that Roman isn’t certain he has the answer for. Knowing just what Solana has been through could be helpful in helping him understand her better, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t know why he’s even bothering with that. Why does he even need to understand her better?

“I mean, just what happened to her mom could be the reason for a lot of her….struggles.”

“That’s part of it.” Roman’s certain of that, but he also knows there’s more. “Her father and brother were abusive.”

At that, Jimmy appears shocked. “What?” His expression quickly turns into a scowl. “That’s why you had us handle up on ole’ boy? You should have said that was why. Would have broke that bitch left hand too.”

“I’m going to kill them both before all is said and done.” And that’s a fucking promise, an oath. Their days are numbered. “But until then, I’ll keep them away from her.”

“That must piss them the fuck off.”

“Exactly.” Beyond making sure they don’t fucking touch Solana, Roman recognizes flexing his power and authority by cutting off all contact between them is something Miller and his boy must find infuriating. They’ve clearly thrived on controlling and torturing Solana, but that shit is over. 

Solana is Bloodline now.

No one fucking touches her.

“Well.” Jimmy blows out a big breath and shrugs his shoulders. “I just hope you know what you doing, Big Dog.” 

“Don’t I always.” Roman mutters, opening the manilla envelope to start going over the files. “Jimmy.”

“Yeah?”

“Have Naomi continue to do Solana’s training from the house.”

“Come on, man, my girl is already on that. She said Soso’s been getting better and better too. ” Jimmy answers, explaining, “I think she and Bey should be over there right about now anyway. Feels like they always over there these days.”

Roman wouldn’t entirely disagree. He gets regular updates from security regarding any and all happenings at his home, which includes a list of visitors, and Naomi and Bayley have been consistent on that list. 

Roman also understands now why Solana hasn’t replied to his latest text.

Not that it bothers him. A lot, at least. He has shit to do anyway. 

A couple minutes later, Jimmy leaves, and Roman is left alone to venture into the next task on his to-do list. 

As expected, Solana’s medical records consist of a lot of emergency visits for accidents. Sprains. Broken bones. Fractures. Endless bruising, hematomas even. The visits eventually die down, but Roman suspects it’s not because the abuse stopped or paused. More likely they stopped taking her and she tended to her wounds herself.

But, the largest section of her records is the most telling.

Subjective: PT is a 16 y/o mixed race female currently admitted following SI attempt. PT was reportedly found in bathroom by family maid and transported to ER by ambulance where she was formally admitted. PT does not appear fully oriented to person, place, and time. PT offered minimal responses to questions and would only speak when prompted. PT denies auditory and visual hallucinations. PT reports wanting to be with mother who is deceased. PT reports no will to live. PT indicated yes with a head nod when asked about hx of sexual trauma. PT observed to become teary eyed following this acknowledgment and would not speak on nature of trauma. PT began to cry and moved into fetal position after being asked reasons for attempt. PT was heard repeating the question, “why didn’t you let me die?” PT became unresponsive after this exchange.

Assessment: PT presents with flat affect and depressed mood. Presents with poor insight and impulse control. PT’s wrists medically wrapped. Faded scars and bruises observed on PT’s arms, legs and partially faded bruise on left eye. PT also has scars on both arms and face, reportedly from knife attack during childhood.

Objective: PT does not appear stable enough to be released from care. Fx is severely impaired. I suspect a long history of complex trauma, confirmed sexual abuse, and suspected physical abuse. Medical records from client’s initial admission indicate “numerous” pre-existing cuts on PT’s inner forearms, indicating repeated incidents of self-harm. I deem PT to be an imminent danger to herself and suspect a release would result in another SI attempt.

Plan: I strongly recommend client be transferred to an adolescent residential facility or kept inpatient at hospital where she can be monitored and placed on medication regimen as well as participate in intensive individual and group therapy to assist in mood stabilization.

If released and left untreated, it is my belief and professional opinion that PT will eventually be successful in efforts to end life. 

Diagnosis: F43.10 Posttraumatic Stress Disorder w/ Dissociation 

Roman keeps reading over this section of the file, but there’s one part that stands out the most.

PT indicated yes with a head nod when asked about hx of sexual trauma. 

That’s the part that Roman can’t seem to move past. He’s read it all. Every fucking word. And it’s all horrific. But, it’s that one sentence, that one damn sentence that confirms what he’d started to suspect, had gradually started to put the pieces together to see the much larger, darker picture.

She’d been touched. He doesn’t know to what extent, but regardless of the specific nature, at fucking sixteen years old, she’d already been violated.

A single swoop of his big arm across the desk sends all of the items once neatly situated sprawled across the cherry wood flooring. Roman stands up and slams his fist down on the table, head down as he tries to calm his suddenly shot nerves.

Livid. He’s livid.

The Bloodline is a lot of things but that has never and will be one of them. It only took one time for some fucking piece of shit to even suggest the Bloodline enter the world of Human Trafficing to increase their reach and profits even more for everyone to know that’s where the line in the sand is drawn.

Roman’s never put a fucking bullet in someone’s head so fast. 

The same urge he has currently.

An urge that’s almost instantly lessened by a small amount when his phone lights up and a name appears across his lock screen.

Solana

Eyes shutting, Roman runs his hand over his face and snatches the phone, unlocking it to view her text.

Solana: What time will you be home tonight?

Instantly, Roman feels a lessening of his anger, reading her message, almost hearing said message in her gentle voice. It’s a distraction but both a reminder of why he’s all upset. Solana’s softness doesn’t equate with the violence she’s experienced, the violation, the pain. Especially as a fucking child. Roman has never understood and has always been especially infuriated by violence against children. There’s wrong and then there’s immoral. 

That’s beyond immoral.

Roman will never deny he’s committed his fair share of sins, earning a VIP spot in hell when that time finally comes, but that is something he could and will never get behind.

Solana: Just so I know what time to have dinner ready by…..

Her follow up is typical, always explaining what she doesn’t have to. 

Roman gives her the best reply he can muster up at this moment in time.

Roman: Not sure. Don’t worry about that. Probably won’t get in until late.

And he truly doesn’t know, because going home in this state of anger won’t do her any good. He told her he’d try to be mindful of his temper around her, and this is just that. He doesn’t want to scare her. 

He needs an outlet.

But, here lies the fucking dilemma. 

Since he was a teenager, Roman’s outlet has always been sex. He’s the type to fuck away his feelings. Working out also helps, but sex always took the cake, helped out sometimes just a smidge or a shit ton more. 

And in a different kind of world, he’d do just that working out with the same woman he finds himself infatuated over. His dick stiffens in his pants thinking back on the picture Naomi sent and wisely unsent to his disrespectful ass cousins. 

But not before he could save it to his camera roll.

Roman has never and will never deny his physical attraction to Solana. She checks every box for him in that category, but she’s not an option. He can’t touch her. He can’t touch her because some fucking piece of shit did just that to her when she was essentially a child, and now she can’t stand to be touched because of it.

Roman finds himself returning to his previous level of rage. 

He needs to work this off him.

And he knows just how.

Grabbing his phone and switching from Solana’s thread to hers, he shoots out a simple text.

Roman: I’m coming over.

________

True to his word, Roman gets back late after an…..interesting visit to see Samantha. Somewhat worth it, but mostly now just another irritating thing he has to handle. Not that her being upset bothers him in the slightest.

She can fuck off and ride off into the sunset for all he cares. 

Granted, the non-asshole side of him, more a small section than a side, can understand why she was upset with him.

He just can’t find it in him to give a fuck.

What he does find, however, is something else.

Roman steps into the living room and sees none other than Solana sleeping on the sofa. Confused, he quietly moves closer in her direction and sits opposite of her on the sturdy, mahogany wood coffee table.

And he watches her, studies her sleeping expression, wondering if she had another nightmare. The possibility drags him back to his earlier disposition, the reason he didn’t allow himself to come back to the mansion at a more reasonable time.

He didn’t want to expose her to that. To that side of him.

Without much thought, he reaches for her face, fingers gently caressing the smooth skin of her cheek. She feels so soft, a stark contrast against his roughness.

In more than one area. 

He’s not sure if she felt his gesture or, like him, is just a light sleeper because her eyes slowly start fluttering open. He waits for her to become more aware and cognizant, and she does, whispering, “hey.”

He matches her low volume. “Hey.” Roman studies her, asking, “you alright?”

She nods, gradually sitting up, and he tries not to notice how instead of wearing the type of baggy shirts he’s noticed she likes to sleep in, she’s donning a thin sleeved top that accentuates her chest. “Yeah, I—” She closes her mouth, and he can tell by the way her brows furrow slightly that she’s trying to figure out how to word whatever she wants to say. “You seemed off. I just—just wanted to make sure you were okay, but I guess I fell asleep….”

It’s Roman’s turn now to not quite understand or make sense of what he’s hearing, so he asks, still in that subdued voice, “you waited up for me?”

Roman can’t recall the last time anyone cared when and even if he made it home. He doesn’t know how to feel about this. At all.

With a sheepish expression, she nods, “tried to, at least.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” And it’s the truth. He doesn’t know why she would in the first place anyway. “It was just….a long day.”

Solana nods, “I get that.” He also takes note of the fact that she’s not stammering as much, doesn’t seem as jittery as he’s used to seeing her. “I should—I guess I’ll go to bed now.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just sits back so she can stand up without him being too in her space. He especially understands now why that’s such a big thing for her.

But, it’s when she stands that his gaze seems to travel to her inner forearms, faded scars now having an even bleaker meaning as he now has the full story.

Another sentence from her medical report whizzes back to him.

If released and left untreated, it is my belief and professional opinion that PT will eventually be successful in efforts to end life. 

He should write it. Roman knows this. Knows that she’d probably respond better and be more comfortable writing, but he also knows it makes him feel almost physically uncomfortable with having to wait to get a response.

He’s much too impatient for that shit. 

He needs to say this shit now.

“Solana.”

She’s halfway to the staircase and turns around, “yes?”

Roman’s never been one to beat around the bush, so he gets straight to the point. “You used to cut, right?”

Always perceptive, Roman sees the shock in her face at his question, the unease that brews as she nervously runs her hand along the side of her cardigan pajama pants. “I—yes, but—not since….it’s been a long time.”

He half expected to have to ask her about the last time she actually did it, though he can tell by how faded the scars are that it has been quite some time, so he believes her. Knows she’s telling the truth.

Still, he needs to make something perfectly clear.

“Any of those thoughts come back, you tell me. I don’t care if you have to paint it on the fucking wall. I want to know.” His intense expression is set right on her, needing to make sure she understands what he’s asking of her. “Understand?”

Solana looks just as confused as he feels as to why this is suddenly important to him, important that she knows she can come to him if those dark thoughts and urges occur. But still, she agrees, acknowledging in that same small voice.

“I understand….”

________

The breeder is only about a half hour out from the mansion, allowing for a drive that’s on the shorter side than what Roman was initially anticipating.

Just like he successfully anticipated Solana’s nervousness throughout that entire drive. She keeps looking out the window, most likely trying to navigate where they’re going. And if not for the unexpected but necessary business call he had to take that lasted almost the entirety of the drive, he would have tried to calm her nerves.

He’s realizing he doesn’t like seeing her so on edge.

When they arrive, Roman is the first to exit the SUV, circling around to open the door for her. She offers a nervous smile and steps out, Roman’s eyes darting to her ass, the sway of it in her yoga pants as she moves a bit away, taking in the average two story house in front of them.

She looks back at him, and he redirects his focus to her eyes, big, brown, and just as innocent as the rest of her. “Where—where are we?” 

Paul also steps out of the car, almost immediately coughing and waving at some flying insect that whizzed at him. “In the middle of nowhere.” He then sets his cautious gaze on Roman. “My Tribal Chief, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I have terrible allergies—”

“I don’t care.” Roman cuts him off, speaking to Solana, gesturing with a nod of his head. “Come with me.”

A part of him wonders if she’ll hesitate, freeze up on him, maybe even refuse. But she instead moves closer to him, walking along his side as he leads them up the steps of the porch. He reaches for the doorbell and is almost instantaneously met with the sound of barking. Interestingly enough, one glance down at Solana and he sees a spark of excitement that chips away at her nerves. 

A couple seconds later, the door opens revealing a middle aged white woman wearing an inauthentic smile. The kind of smile someone forces for a business meeting or possible transaction.

“You must be Mr. Reigns?” She correctly guesses, eyes then landing on Solana. “And you must be the Mrs?”

Roman places his hand on the small of Solana’s back, noticing how she initially tenses but, surprisingly, relaxes just a few seconds later. “My wife, Solana.”

Solana offers a small wave and polite hello but nothing more.

“I’m Beverly.” She introduces, but Roman doesn’t care. He doesn’t need to know shit about her except whatever her price is. She steps aside, motioning for them to come in. “Please.” He allows Solana to walk in first, followed by himself. When Paul doesn’t also follow suit, Roman turns around. “Wise Man.”

Paul, complexion starting to become pinkish, politely declines. “I’ll just wait here—”

“Wise Man.”

“Coming, My Tribal Chief.”

Once all three are inside, Betty or whoever, offers something to drink which all three decline, shortly after which the woman asks, “so, are we looking for—”

“It’s for her.” Roman motions to Solana who looks at him still wholly confused as a teenage girl, who looks like the spitting image of her mother, descends down the stairs. “Whatever she wants.”

Betty’s eyes light up as she directs the teenager. “Honey, can you take her outside to see the puppies?”

“Sure.” The teen’s voice is annoyingly preppy, like nails on the chalkboard, like a fucking cheerleader or something. “Follow me.”

Solana again looks at Roman, as if for guidance, but he only nods, encouraging her to follow. She’s still reluctant—he can see as such—but ultimately follows the blonde out the backdoor. 

As soon as she’s out the door. Betty starts with the irritating sales pitch, talking to him about the history of Pomeranians, the benefits of that breed, dietary guidelines and other things he couldn’t give two shits about. It’s why he doesn’t hesitate to take the business call the minute his phone rings and instead advises Paul to listen to the woman talk. 

He moves to the front of the house, securing another layer of privacy and doesn’t even hesitate to walk right past a wheezing Paul to head out back where Solana is once the call is over.

Roman finds her outside in the spacious yet somehow closed in yard. She’s sitting in the grass, legs open as a tiny dog, a puppy, moves back and forth between sitting in Solana’s lap and running in a circle before coming right back to her. Roman realizes she’s playing with the freakishly small animal, but beyond that, she’s smiling.

And laughing.

Roman can’t recall the last time, if ever, he’s seen her do the latter of the two. Even her smile is much larger, much more genuine than he’s seen her offer in the short time he’s known her..

“That one.” The woman, Bonnie, who came outside at one point with Paul, moves toward Roman. “She wants that one.”

Bonnie steps forward and frowns, slapping on that disingenuous smile he’s learned how to read all too well with years of experience working with people. “Oh no, that one’s not supposed to be out there. My daughter must have forgotten to pull her.”

Roman really does try sometimes with people, but they always end up fucking annoying him one way or another. “She wants that one.”

The woman stutters. “I–I’m sorry, but that dog is already under contract.”

Rolling his eyes, he asks, surprisingly calmly, not wanting to necessarily cause a scene in front of Solana. “How much?”

“Pardon?”

Roman does his best to hide his irritation at having to repeat himself. “How much?”

Betty releases a nervous smile, crossing her arms across her badly built body. “I—I can’t sell you a dog that’s already under contract, sir.”

Politics. It’s all politics. Roman knew the second Betty’s smile grew as her eyes landed on his Hublot watch that she saw this as a great, unexpected windfall. And she’s not entirely wrong. “Everyone has a fucking price, lady. Name yours.”

She stutters again. “Sir, I—I appreciate the interest, but that dog comes from a champion bloodline. The buyers intend to show her, so they’re paying a pretty penny.” She throws out casually, as if he can’t tell what she’s trying to do, the deal she’s trying to see if she can score. “They’re paying $10,000—”

There it is. The sin of greed that gets us all at one point or another. 

Without second thought or guess, Roman states, “I’ll give you $20,000.”

As expected, her eyes nearly bulge out of her head, the expression highlighting excessive crows feet no doubt caused by unnecessary time spent under this scorching sun. “$20,000?” He doesn’t even have to counter again. “Well, I suppose I could offer them another puppy—”

“Good.” Roman knew right away “negotiating” with this woman wouldn’t take much. She’s in it for a clean, high profit, which is fair considering one could say that for all business owners. But, if all else failed, he had…..other strategies. But those are much messier, and he’d rather just throw a stack of cash her way so they could be on their merry fucking way. “Wise Man.”

Paul steps forward, pudgy cheeks reddened and eyes watering. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Pay the woman.”

Paul swallows. “But, my—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s cheeks redden as he nods and motions to the house. Roman doesn’t need to say anything else. “I will handle the sale. Shall we?”

As Roman allows his counsel to handle the closing of the deal, he walks over to Solana who looks over at him with that same smile. He crouches down near her, observing, “she seems to like you.” And it’s the truth, seeing how the other puppies are content with playing with each other, this one is sticking with Solana.

She looks at Roman, petting the top of its head carefully, looking back down with that happy smile.“Thank you for taking me—”

“She’s yours.” 

Her head snaps in his direction, right as the dog climbs into her lap. “W–what?” Solana blinks, face painted in plausible confusion. “M–mine?”

Roman chuckles. “It’s certainly not for me.”

“Really?” Roman watches the hairy ass creature stand on its legs, as if demanding her attention. Attention whore ass.

“Yes, if you want her—”

“Yes,” she answers almost immediately, suddenly. And true to her nature, she’s already backtracking. “I mean—“

“You want her, so she’s yours,” he reiterates his previous statement, but there’s a tone of finality that lets Solana know he’s not open to a discussion or debate.

It’s a sure thing. 

“She’d be your dog. Not mine.” He clarifies. Solana can tell it’s also his way of telling her he’s not doing shit to help her take care of this dog, which is more than fair since Solana would bet he had no plans to purchase a dog anytime soon.

So why is he? 

She just has to ask again. “You don’t—-you really don’t care?”

It feels unreal. Too much like not an option. Not a reality. Why would he allow her a pet? Buy her a pet? 

He eyes the animal that’s seemingly already taken so well to Solana. “She’s so damn small I’ll probably forget she’s there half the time.”

There’s that laugh again, and Roman finds himself with a small smile of his own, not as big, nor as genuine, but a smile nonetheless. But just as quick as it’s there, it’s gone. Clearing his throat, he asks, “what are you gonna name her?”

Solana looks down at the puppy in her lap, nestled so comfortably against her stomach, eyes fluttering close like she’s about to fall asleep. With a soft smile and gentle caress of her coat, she answers. “Dulce.”

Roman’s thick brows arch together as he asks, “is that Spanish?”

She nods, glancing over at him just long enough to answer. “It means sweet.”

He makes a sound. That lines up. For both of them. 

The dog's eyes then land on him with as much disinterest he feels about it, quickly focusing back on Solana. “I suppose we’ll have to get supplies and shit for her.”

Roman doesn’t consider himself having a childhood, so he refers to what most call just that as his ‘formative year.’ And during those formative years, he never had a pet, so this is new to him as well, outside of just the common sense parts of owning a dog.

She’s petting the sleeping puppy “Aren’t you busy today?” 

Yes. Always. Roman’s to-do list is on subscribe and save, constantly delivering him new shit when he’s still working on the old shit. It’s just a part of the job though.

“No,” he answers. “It can wait.”

________

A couple of stops at different stores to pick up all of the shit Solana needs for Dulce along with getting the first vet appointment scheduled for the puppy takes just under three hours, which still grants Roman plenty of time to head into the office. Not until, though, he makes sure Solana is good to go, good with being left alone with the dog.

He meant it when he said it was her dog and he wouldn’t be helping out and shit, but given it’s the first day, he can see how there could be some nerves there.

But, there’s not. She’s good to go, hence his okayness with leaving for a little while to get some work done.

She doesn’t text him as much during the day, a noticeable thing that he understands is because she’s spending time with the dog. 

But, he does come home for lunch to get in a workout where he finds an entry in the notebook.

Roman,

Thank you so much. 

I promise I’ll take care of her and keep her out of your way. Paul’s too. I’ll keep her in the room with me when he’s over.

I always wanted a dog, but my dad hates them, and even if he didn’t, I was always too scared Wes would do something to it or worse….just to hurt me. He hates me, if you didn’t notice….

Solana

Roman doesn’t take much, if any time, to reply. He’d prefer to talk to her in person, but Bayley and Naomi are over, the three women in the backyard playing with the dog. So, he allows her that time, settling for a written response. 

Solana,

You’re welcome. 

Don’t worry about Paul. He won’t fucking die from allergies, and if he does, oh well.

I noticed. It’s why I’ll never leave you alone with him or your shitty father. Ever.

Why does he hate you?

Roman

Solana is partially upset when she realizes she missed Roman coming home for a workout, not that she wanted to bother him, just maybe….see him. Maybe even talk to him. Possibly tell him thank you again in person vs writing it in the notebook, but after Naomi and Bayley are gone and she’s fed Dulce her dinner, Solana sees Roman replied, leaving the notebook on her bed this time.

Most likely for privacy.

The first part of his note makes her laugh, even if she doesn’t enjoy Paul clearly suffering from his allergies. The second part, however, Solana struggles with.

She doesn’t know how honest to be with Roman, doesn’t know where she should draw that line in the sand. However, it’s not missed upon her that everything she’s shared with him, he’s been surprisingly okay with. Never having such a major reaction that it made her second guess her sharing.

And the man just bought her a fucking dog, something she’s always wanted. For no apparent reason.

Maybe….maybe she can be a bit more honest, a bit more forthcoming, even if it is a somber truth.

Roman,

I don’t want to inconvenience Paul. That’s not fair to him….

Wes blames me for our mother’s murder, says it was my fault.

And he’s not wrong.

She is dead because of me.

Solana

The minute Solana brings the notebook to Roman’s room, she regrets it. She regrets opening up, regrets being so vulnerable with him. Just because he answers her questions and bought her a puppy doesn’t mean he gives two shits about her trauma.

She’s so tempted to sneak into his room and take the journal back. It keeps her up, makes her toss and turn as Dulce sleeps peacefully in her pink dog bed beside Solana’s. 

But, it’s when Solana wakes up at 4am and notices the notebook on her nightstand, her anxiety reaches another level. Instead of avoiding it until morning, she sits up and snatches it, flipping to the page they’re on.

And her stomach achieves a new level of butterflies when she reads his response. 

Solana,

It’s not your fault.

Also, you were wrong.

I care what you have to say and think.

Roman

[clownalley]

okay fellow autistics & people who have sensory issues or trouble eating specific foods: hear me out.

I’ve been trying my best to eat more fruits & vegetables & more generally “healthy” food (I don’t think we should label specific foods as “good” or “bad” because food at all is better than no food etc, but that’s besides the point) & I’ve realised something.

If I pretend to be a specific animal while eating a certain food, it can be marginally easier to eat. HEAR ME OUT, OKAY?! Put away the reactionary part of you that goes “wow, that’s cringe”, because this genuinely helps me. I don’t care if you laugh, grow up.

For example, if I pretend I’m a bunny rabbit while eating celery or lettuce, it sort of becomes fun! It turns into me playing a part in my head, kind of. I also do this with sultana bran/raisin bran kind of cereal, where I’m like “hehe this looks like bird/rabbit food” & it becomes easier!

I just thought I’d share this trick in case it helps anyone else. It’s alright if it doesn’t help you, but I’m proud of the efforts you’re making to get better at eating certain foods, it’s not easy. & if you’re finding it hard to start trying foods out of your comfort zone, I’m proud of you as well 💕💕

[chaussetteblanche]

I had this idea in my head for a while; With Kit Connor x gf reader, where she comforts him when he was pressured to come out

thank you <3

pairing : kit connor x reader summary : you are by kit's side as he deals with being forced to come out word count : 900 words warnings : swearing

note : the fact that some so-called "fans" watched the show and had the nerve of accusing him of queer-baiting and pressured into coming out when he was only eighteen is just disgusting to me, check yourselves y'all

You'd been dating Connor for a while. Being an actor, you'd met at some party he had attended with the Heartstopper cast. You'd met Yasmin first, and had immediately hit it off. She was unbelievably funny and down-to-earth. She had introduced you to the rest of the cast, and, naturally, you'd been drawn to Kit. You had exchanged numbers through shy smiles and shaky hands, the rest was history.

Dating someone in the acting world was both a blessing and a curse. As an actor, Kit understood and could relate to your struggles with roles, management, fame, social media... just the industry in general. You bonded over similar experiences as bisexuals who could pass as straight and who didn't always bother with labels or clarifying their sexualities. But as an actor, he was also often on the move, filming thousands of kilometres away from you or in a different time zone altogether.

But even with all this, being with Kit was easy. You both clicked, you just worked. You communicated your feelings and needs and even though you'd had your fair share of arguments, you loved him more than anything. He made you and your life so much better.

So you can imagine that when people he started being accused of queer-baiting and being pressured by people who missed the meaning of the show entirely to come out, you didn't take it well. You loved Kit with all your heart and would tear the world to pieces just for him.

"I just can't believe these people! How dare they? How can they just- sit there and demand this of you!" you'd ranted one night. "You're eighteen for Pete's sake! You don't owe them or anyone anything! Fucking cunts, it's just ridiculous that they think so!" Kit watched you from where he was sitting on the couch, running a hand over his face. You sigh, licking your lips as you trudged over to him. "I'm sorry," you speak softly, standing in between his legs. He looks up at you, shaking his head. "You've got nothin' for apologize for, luv," "But I shouldn't go off like this, it's not fair to you, this negative energy..."

He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. Your hand immediately goes to his hair, gently scratching his scalp as the other wounds itself around his shoulders. "I would make them vanish off the face of the Earth if I could, I swear, I-" "You did all you could, my love, it's already more than enough." He meant the countless posts you'd made concerning his situation as well as other actors', speaking up on the issue in many interviews... He was right, you'd done everything in your power. But it still wasn't enough. And it was killing you.

"But it's not, though. They just won't stop! Where is their bloody decency? And you don't deserve this, any of this. It's so unfair." "I know," He lifted his head up to look at you. Your hand cupped his jaw before you kissed him deeply. "I can take it," he assured against your lips. You pulled away, frowning. "But you shouldn't have to. It's so unfair. I wish we could just shut them all up, tell them to fuck off." "But you've done that already, haven't you?" he chuckled. "Yes, but clearly the message didn't get through." He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "Stop worrying about me. I'll take care of it." "What will you do?" "I don't know yet, but I'll figure it out."You'd seen the tweet before you'd seen him. He was supposed to come over to your place for Halloween, you were planning on attending a party together, dressed as Shaggy and Velma. You were halfway through getting ready. You had your outfit on and were just getting started on your makeup when your phone started blowing up. Confused, you picked it up, seeing Kit's tweet everywhere. You slapped a hand over your mouth, scrolling down Twitter. Even though you were furious at the people who had brought him to this, you couldn't help but feel proud of him for taking control of the situation and coming out on "his own terms", if they could be qualified as such.

Your doorbell rings and you all but run to open the door. Outside stands Kit, looking absolutely beaten. You bite your lip, eyebrows furrowing. "I just saw," you breathe. He walks in and pulls you into a big hug, sighing shakily into your hair. You rub his back. "Oh, baby," you coo, "I'm so sorry, you don't deserve any of this,"

You usher him to your couch, closing the door and start making some tea. You set both your cups down on the coffee table, sitting down next to him. You take his hands in yours, caressing his knuckles. "How do you feel?" "I- I'm just disappointed, I guess. I thought people, especially after watching the show, would be more understanding, empathetic... just- more human, I guess." "Yeah, people are disappointing." "But I wanted to be the one to say you, you know? I didn't want that taken away from me, I didn't want to be outed." "And you were totally right, you took control of the situation and I'm so proud of you. You changed the narrative." He gave you a small smile.

Kit laid his face in your lap, hugging your thighs. "It still sucks, though," he spoke, voice muffled. You nodded, running a comforting hand up and down his back. "Yeah, it sucks. Do you wanna stay here tonight and watch some scary movies?" "Yes, please."

[daskolas]

PAC: HOW WILL YOUR REST OF 2023 GO.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Ask yourself questions "how will my rest of 2023 go" and see where your intuition is taking you.

This is a general reading so it may or may not resonate with you

Pile-1 , pile-2, pile-3

PILE - 1

Hii, welcome to your pile. I hope 2023 has been treating you well. Here is your reading:

SEPTEMBER: You're trying to get your life structured this month. You are making a timetable or anything to get organised or even just try to devote time to things like doing workout everyday, spending time with yourself. Some of you could be waiting for someone's text and are not able to sleep because of that. So don't worry about it. Whether you receive that text or not, it will depend on fate. You sometimes have to let things go. Rest of you are overthinking about your future a lot so remember that overthinking won't take you anywhere, put efforts and take care of your health. You could have some issues with someone about how they want different things than you. For, some of you, it is internal (especially for people whose initials are R, T, A, N). Expect something to change and it will be fruitful.

OCTOBER: this month is more about reaping benefits of the seeds you sow. You will be dating someone. That person will be flirtatious and dramatic. Plan your steps with an eye to the long term. Don't make decisions quickly, analyse pros and cons according to the long term. Have some patience because you never know when you will receive something good. Learn to understand when you have to listen to your heart or mind. This will come very handy this month. Do not feel trapped because you will be longer stuck in that situation. Plan what to do next step carefully. Trust your intuition. Especially, do some chakra meditation. This month is about making decisions, thinking and falling for someone.

NOVEMBER: you will be leaving a bad habit behind. That habit which was holding you back and making you feel trapped. It can even be a person. Try to bring fun into things. Do not do them as some chores but make them fun. This month you really need to believe in yourself and have some self love. A lack of self confidence can keep you back from getting what you want. You have to realise that you are powerful and you can take back anything you want. A journey is now complete. You will also get success. I am not getting a lot for this month but learning to love yourself is the main highlight.

DECEMBER: you will have a financial windfall in December. Expect to receive money and some person who will support you. What I am getting is that, carry a notepad with you and write down whatever ideas you are having. You will have to learn how to communicate effectively. If you are getting some good ideas then implement it. Review your past and present and see how far you have come. Do not hold yourself onto certain standards or judge yourself, do whatever you feel like and however you feel like. You can also go to someplace or even purchase a vehicle. You will realise your dreams and will go after them this month. You will also try to come out of your comfort zone and feel more optimistic.

This was your reading pile 1. I hope it resonated.

PILE - 2

Hii, welcome to your pile. I hope 2023 has been treating you well. Here is your reading:

SEPTEMBER: you are not seeing something clearly this month. It seems like you are trying to ignore or take granted all the things you have and wishing to have other things. Many people who chose this pile are trying to manifest something important. If you will be focusing on what you don't have, you will not be able to manifest. Show some gratitude and see how fast things come for you. And also someone needs to hear this " A bright future is manifested through hard work and creativity." You will also feel satisfied from the work you have done. Many of you are afraid to take action even though you have plans and everything. So, take this as a sign and take some action. It will be great for you, if you will be fearless and pursue your dreams.

OCTOBER: you will get a friend with whom you can share your feelings with, without feeling any sort of judgement from them. You can feel a little powerless this month but if you realise how wonderful you are, then you will be easily able to overcome challenges. Leave people who are no longer serving you and align yourself with people who have high spiritual ideals. This month you will need to come out of your box and consider new and creative modes of accomplishing your goals. But you will be looking at the future with hope and optimism so that hope will make you do hard work. You might also question your plans but you will also come to the conclusion that your plan is not wrong but something else is.

NOVEMBER: expect to receive some good news. And you will also be able to be successful in your work. It doesn't matter if you are working or school but this month is great for you. If you are required to make some career decisions, then follow your passion. BE THE BEST AT WHAT YOU DO. you will also be able to stop procrastinating and put efforts in your work. If you have to make decisions, then do not overanalyze it as you will be more confused by this. Reach out to others when you are required to do. Take advice from people. Some of you will feel like they are leaving some things behind so know that you are on the right path.

DECEMBER: I see that you are still carrying things which you should have completed in November itself. But listen to your brain when you have to find some solution to anything. There can also be some unexpected change like you have to move to another state or something but it will be sudden only. You will also be ignoring the information which is presented right in front of you because it will not be exactly what you want to hear. Don't be deterred by challenges. Know that a challenge is something which makes the things worth doing. You will also be able to manifest something and make good progress in some endeavours

This was your reading pile 2. I hope it resonated.

PILE - 3

Hii, welcome to your pile. I hope 2023 has been treating you well. Here is your reading:

SEPTEMBER: you are going to take control of your life. Some of you are going back to school or even deciding to. You are trying to show more gratitude or forgiveness to other people. It's like trying out a new thing where you basically change your life maybe by doing different manifestation challenges or something. You might also do some more self- care like doing skincare, working out, eating healthy etc. This month is going to be great for you as you will be able to come in contact with your inner child.

OCTOBER: you are moving into a new direction. Maybe you are planning to start something new or following something which you always wanted to do. October is going to be great for you to take action as this month is about moving forward. But you could also question yourself, if you should move forward with this. You are planning things for a bright future and hence comparing traditional vs modern methods. You will also receive some good news. If you are doing something creative for free, then expect to earn something from them. This month will bring you lots of happiness but it will also require you to work very hard.

NOVEMBER: the good news which I mentioned above, looks like you are going to have a celebration in November because of it. You also are going to be cutting off toxic people or those people who are no longer matching your energy. This will make you feel alone and constantly overthinking about it. You could also be starting to question your decision, if that's the right thing to do. You might focus on worst-case scenarios. You are also becoming a lot focused on your career or education this month. It looks like you are taking back the control which you needed. You are also recognising all the blessings and being grateful for them. For some people, some person in your family might get married.

DECEMBER: you are going to be in touch with your spiritual side much more. Like you could start meditating for balancing different chakras especially the third eye. You are going to listen to your intuition or even feel more confident in that side. You are also going to give yourself proper rest like hibernating. Some self-reflection will really help you so much this month. You will also be hanging out with your small group of friends or the people you trust most. In October, i said about overthinking. Looks like you are going to let go of all the fear and worry this month.

This was your reading pile 3. I hope it resonated.

[sthavoc]

Hey so Idk you will like this idea cause it has some angst in it but...

What about a fix where enzo was planning a special date but then enzo and the reader have a big argument because of the rumours of him and atiana cause the reader has trust issues caused by a past relationship and it does end up in a break up but he goes and chases after her. BUT the thing about the date was that...

He was going to propose to her.

౨ৎ⋆˚ 💍 𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: with all the rumors about enzo and aitana you were having trouble with your trust issues, before the both of you headed to a special date enzo couldn’t wait for, you both got in a fight that didn’t end up well, but enzo won’t leave without a fight.

·˚ ༘ warnings: angst, cussing, trust issues, happy ending y’all(I don’t feel like being that cruel for my first angst)

·˚ ༘ note: angst is totally okay if u guys want some! I’m so dramaticcc 😭 I’m so sorry for the wait but I hope you guys like it!! I hope I didn’t miss any grammar mistakes

Trust. What a thing to ask from someone when all they’ve experienced their whole life was lies, lie after lie fills the bottle of trust. Can’t tell the truth because they prefer to have everything instead of one. Can’t tell the truth because they don’t want to hurt your feelings. Can’t tell the truth because they started with a small lie and then got carried away.

For you, trusting a partner takes time and patience. It’s not easy considering most of the few relationships you’ve been in are full of lies. Just bad luck you think, and for some reason you thought it would be different with Enzo. Was it because your heart told you so? Or was it his actions? Who knows. Though you were starting to question it, and it all started when the rumors of him and Aitana began, the pictures of them, the fans asking around if they were a thing.

Reminiscing thinking if anything he ever told you was true, thinking if all was a lie. Your heart would tell you everything was true, but your mind would tell you another. You were tired of it, but you were also tired of hurting Enzo with your issues.

“Dale hermosa se nos hace tarde.” Enzo’s voice snapped you out of your zone. With deep in thought it sounded as if he had called you multiple times.

You didn’t give him an answer and continued to sit on the chair from your vanity. You had finished getting ready, Enzo wanted you to dress up all fancy for a dinner reservation he had made, very special according to him. With your reflection in the mirror, your lips were a shade of red, your dress was white, and your hair was down. All you needed were your shoes.

“Estoy ansioso, espero que te guste.” He beamed. He had been planning this dinner for weeks, plenty of techniques for you not to see anything coming.

“Hm.” was your answer.

Everything was getting to you. Hitting you like a brick wall and bringing down your trust in your boyfriend, and you didn’t want to. You wanted to trust Enzo, but it was absolutely hard when all you ever saw were pictures of him with another woman and comments that only filled your overthinking. It made you think that the people you end up caring for the most are the ones who let you down the hardest. You didn’t want to be there again.

“¿Todo bien?” He halts his movement buttoning up his shirt to shift his attention towards you. Instead of being excited like you usually were, you seemed bummed down, it was worrisome.

“Sí. Todo bien.”

Enzo remained silent for a moment, but the man knew that not everything was fine, he was noticing the signs. You were quiet and distant, and that was your usual answer when things were not fine.

“¿Que pasa?” He used a softer tone to make you feel comfortable. So you could know that if you wanted to talk about something you could.

“Nada.” You decided to keep your words short, and you added a glance spotting that he was staring at you.

He was starting to push your buttons, by any time you were sure to explode or ask him the question.

“Nena, en serio llevas así casi todo el día.” And he was right. You’ve been shutting him out for the whole day, and instead of talking it out you decided to keep it to yourself, but it was maybe time to talk about it. This topic was simply eating you alive and just thinking about it makes your world sink, your stomach turn, and your heart break into a million pieces that won’t be fixed easily.

“¿Tienes algo con Aitana?” The words came out quietly, afraid.

“¿Como?” It wasn’t that he didn’t hear you the first time. He was merely confused as to why you would be asking such a question, and also on such an important day.

“Que si tienes algo con Aitana.” Your voice appeared a little louder than it did before, this was getting you irritated already.

“No-no. Claro que no nena. ¿Per por qué me preguntas eso?” He chuckled trying to come closer to you to hold you, but you didn’t let him. You didn’t feel like letting him hold you in the moment.

“Las fotos de ustedes están por todo el maldito internet, Enzo. Salen muy cerca y-y las fans se preguntan si son algo, ¿que se supone que ahora me pregunte yo?” Your expression had ascended with a hint of wrath in your last sentence.

“Nada. Se supone que no te debes de preguntar nada.” Enzo moved closer and his words emerged with an offensive tone, he tried strengthening his cool, since out of the two he always did. “Y además son solo fotos que están sacadas fueras de contexto.”

“Sí, claro.” You chuckled sarcastically earning Enzo to furrow his brows in disarray. His next questions followed—

“¿Que insinúas? ¿Qué te estoy engañado?”

“No lo sé.” Was your retort.

You didn’t know, truthfully, you yearned to believe that it was just your brain making a mess with you, and not that he could actually be cheating on you. That would be the end for you, and technically it was getting hard for you with how public he was becoming. But you loved the man and you tried for those thoughts to not keep burning you.

“Por Dios, T/N. ¿Que no confías en mí?” That question.

Your eyes glistened with tears that you tried to hold back, you kept telling yourself, “to not ruin the makeup”, but you just didn’t want to cry. “Enzo, sabes que no se me da lo de la confianza.” You blubbered. “Trato pero, me gana el cerebro y juega sus putos juegos conmigo.”

“Lo se pero solo te pido que me creas. Yo te amo.” He strived to grab your hands but you pulled away, and he didn’t make an attempt, understanding that you needed your space. “No te estoy engañando.”

.“Las fans no ven eso, Enzo.” You looked him in the eyes, feeling the burn in your throat. “Las fotos rodeando todo el internet. En ves de que sean de ti y de mi son de ti y Aitana.” your words were starting to increase in volume once again.

“¿Que importa lo que digan?” His eyebrows furrowed as his words showed a hint of anger.

“!No, es que no lo entiendes. No sabes que es lo que se siente al saber que sepan que tienes novia y aún así se pregunten si estás con otra persona, Enzo. Y que suban fotos de ustedes!” you hollered in anger, you felt how the bump in your throat kept getting tighter and tighter, it was even starting to hurt every time you swallowed.

Your words left him stunt at the sudden rise of volume. “Pero si vos y yo sabemos que solo somos los dos, carajo.” He was losing his cool with how his words were starting to rise.

“¿Es en serio?” You sounded with sarcasm. “No solo lo tenemos que saber los dos. ¡Todos lo tienen que saber. Por eso decidimos hacer nuestra relación pública!” Your hand came in the middle making him step back, during this you felt one tear drop onto your cheek. The seconds passed, and with the pain in your voice, you spoke once more, this time more quietly. “Enzo yo no se si podamos seguir juntos.”

Your words stung him like the prick of a flower when you place your finger against it. You meant everything to him, and just the thought of losing you paralyzed him, making him unable to move or speak.

You thought it was for the better. To let him go, for you to leave. Past relationships have taught you and made you think you were the problem. This was the only thing you thought was right.

“N-no chiquita no me digas eso por favor.” He wiped out the barrier grabbing your hands, but you kept on pulling away.

“No. Enzo.” You tore away. “Ya. Te aseguro que estarás mejor sin mi.”

“No digas estupideces por favor nena. Claro que no voy a estar mejor sin vos.” His proclamations were filled with bitterness and frustration, he wasn’t sure what to do to make you change your answer.

“Enzo por favor. No quiero que sigas lidiando con esto que tengo, y yo ya no quiero dudar de ti.”

“Hermosa por favor. No me dejes, podemos arreglarlo.” You could see him get on his knees, hugging you from your hips. His force made you unable to move, and you tried to push him away but it was no use. He was stronger than you.

“¡Enzo ya! Se acabo.”

When you said those words you grabbed nothing but your phone ready to leave. You weren’t sure where you would go, but anywhere else that wasn’t where he would be. Right now, being close to the man you thought you would continue to have a life with hurts, hurts more than a cut would. Were you just destined to be alone? or were you just immoral at choosing guys?

When you stepped out of the apartment you felt droplets of rain, the sky cried with you while you rushed towards your car. Soon, a pair of words stopped you, hollering words you weren’t sure you would hear.

“¡¿Sabes que iba a hacer en la cena?!” Enzo called through the rain, it made you turn towards him, while he walked closer. “Te iba a pedir que te casaras conmigo.”

His words made everything around you stop. You had always painted the picture of getting married to Enzo, you just never thought it would happen, or that it ever crossed his mind as well. He wanted you in his life, not just temporarily, but forever.

“¿Casarme contigo?” You hoped you heard correctly and it wasn’t just the rain that made sure you heard what you cared for to hear.

Until Enzo dug into his pocket and took out a navy blue box. New tears began to fall on your cheeks, watching him open it and reveal the silver, diamond ring. You glanced at him, with his hair wet and his tuxedo damped.

“No me puedo imaginar una vida que no sea con vos. Verte sonreír es mi forma de vivir, me dijiste la primera vez que salimos que tenías problemas con confiar. Me pediste no lidiar con eso, pero yo quiero. Quiero lidiar contigo por el resto de mi vida.”

You could have trouble with anything, could have a sickness that takes away his free time, and yet, Enzo wouldn’t go. He would choose you for breath because you are his oxygen, his heaven. He would give up anything to keep you close, to hold you forever.

“Enzo—” You stood speechless and interrupted by thoughts that were all over the place. “No quiero que tu amor por mi desaparezca por culpa de mis problemas. Siento que con el tiempo me dejarás de amar, todos lo hacen.”

“Pero yo no soy todos. Yo doy todo por vos preciosa, eres mi luz. Yo te prometo que voy a hacer que tus dudas desaparezcan, y que no te quede ninguna de que te amo y que de verdad eres la única. La única que quiero en mi vida.”

Having Enzo in your life has been a hell of a rollercoaster, but you can’t also imagine a life without him. Having him around was the best and he always managed to make you smile and feel loved even though you had trouble. So not becoming his fiancée was not an option.

“Sí quiero.” You blurted. It made Enzo confused as to what you meant, but he caught up.

“¿Como?” He just wanted to hear it from you.

“Sí me quiero casar contigo.” The lump in your throat broke the chords of your voice as the tears began to fall. This time out of happiness.

“no juegues conmigo chiquita.” He felt his knees go weak at your answer.

“No.” You laughed with the tears in your eyes. “Enzo, se que soy difícil, pero te amo, y yo sé que tú me amas. Aunque el cerebro juega conmigo, mi corazón sabe.”

Enzo wasted no time in putting the ring on your finger, as his face painted one of the brightest smiles on his lips. His tears were covered by the droplets of rain but the redness above his eyes was yet visible. The man didn’t know if he could hug you or even kiss you, so what you did was pull him by the collar and kiss him with the passion that grew from the depths of your heart.

“Te voy a hacer la mujer más feliz del mundo.” He whispered under his breath with his hand under your cheek, the water slipping between the two. “Nadie te va a amar como yo.”

“Eso ya lo haces.” You giggled pulling him back for a kiss.

In every relationship, there are bound to be challenges. Sometimes, people may choose to part ways for the sake of their own happiness. However, those who stay through thick and thin are the ones who have found true love.

[allsadnshit]

It's so informative to watch how quickly my digestive problems start the second I make plans that are outside my comfort zone - like even if it's just a twenty minute catch up a friends, sometimes even a PHONE CALL, my stomach will on cue just start telling me I have food poisoning levels of cramping and pain and then when the situation passes it slowly goes away

And it makes me realize so much how even though what you eat and definitely does effect your stomach (obviously), so much of digestive issues can be emotional, mental, and spiritual and cannot be healed just by cutting out foods or being a meticulous eater.

For so long I cut out more and more stuff and I've tried gluten, gluten free, dairy, dairy free, meat, vegetarian, and really no matter what if I am stressed then my stomach WILL go crazy. And although I am still figuring out what my body likes food wise and I see improvements in other areas with diet change like my skin and hair health, my emotions, my energy levels, etc.... ultimately I do not think my stomach or my relationship to it can heal until I am in a peaceful and safe place for a LONG time and I can truly rewire the brain settings that become stuck over years of extremely stressful life events to becoming nurtured and healthy again.

This is something my traditional Chinese medicine practitioners have told me for a long time but I think it can be hard to truly and deeply process beyond just "oh yeah that makes sense" but to like really understand you cannot get better where you got hurt and sometimes that's a place and often it's also a way of existing.