#if anyone has any questions just def ask !! )

[sossolei]

things I learned after shifting to Hogwarts ‧₊ ᵎᵎ⋅ ˚ △⃒⃘

SIDENOTE: hogwarts was not the first reality I shifted to ! this is a uni reality ! there is no war ! ask any questions you want !

.☘︎ ݁˖ BATHROOM. I’ve genuinely never seen anyone talk about this but ( at least in my reality ) there’s a bathroom on the Hogwarts Express and holy fuck??? On the outside it looks tiny asf but I went in there to change into my robes and it’s wayyy bigger than it looks on the outside. It works like the tents in Goblet of Fire basically. The toilets and everything look relatively new so I’m assuming they change it every couple years just to keep in good condition.

.☘︎ ݁˖ MUGGLES. Have you ever wondered exactly how the muggles don’t notice wizardry, or at least at the platform? In my personal experience, unless it’s magic very intentionally and obviously done in front of muggles, there will usually be a moment distraction where they don’t see the magic happening. In the sense of platform nine and three quarters, there’s usually a couple trains that arrive around the same time and blare the horn so everyone usually gets distracted by that. But a personal example of this happens when I was standing in front of the barrier getting ready to cross through the wall, a young child was watching me from afar and as soon as started walking forward, he tripped over the wheel of his mothers luggage and didn’t see me go through the wall.

.☘︎ ݁˖ THE GREAT HALL. The candles are never ending. They don’t drip. They don’t melt in any way. I just had to say that cause I legit stared at them for almost an hour trying to see if it would melt. You have to talk pretty loud to be heard at the front where Dumbledore usually gives his lil speeches, which means the students who sing have lungs for DAYSSSS it’s actually so impressive. The benches are uncomfortable, not unbearable but not recommended for sitting for a long time lol. There’s no menu or anything, the food rlly does just appear there but there’s always something for everybody. Some people even walk up and down the table looking for what they want.

.☘︎ ݁˖ OTHER SCHOOLS. I didn’t stay in this reality for very long but I was always asking questions ( sorry mcgonnagall ). Ilvermorny is currently trying to admit more Native American wizards into their school but Native American wizards (as far as I know) have their own kind of magic and legit do not want anything to do with Ilvermorny. Kind of similar issue in Australia and Aboriginals I’m pretty sure. There’s a lot of, like a fuck ton of wizarding schools in Africa. I know JK Rowling has like one wizarding school in Africa but geographically speaking, that never made sense to begin with and I wasn’t surprised when I found out there were different/smaller wizarding schools around Africa.

.☘︎ ݁˖ STUDENTS. I don’t know how many students are in Hogwarts but I do know that it’s never a surprise who comes to Hogwarts. The ministry genuinely keeps track of every single wizard who has children, and even hold records of wizards who have families without wizarding abilities, just in case someone pops out with it. Easiest way to think of it is that families like Ron’s are always kept track of as well as Hermione’s, so it’s never usually a surprise when someone turns up muggleborn cause they’re usually expecting it.

.☘︎ ݁˖ PROFESSORS. The professors are not as silly goofy as they are in the movies guy :( They’re not miserable or anything but they all just remind me of the standing emoji LMAOOO. But seriously, someone like Mcgonnagall is not as welcoming or “chill” as she is in the movies or towards Harry. But some definitely are more chill, especially the younger ones. Slughorn is my silly king but even he has his moments.

Since this is a uni, Snape isn’t as uh…violent (?) as he is in the movies. Neville is a grown ass man, Snape is def not his biggest fear but Neville in general has a strong urge to prove himself and it reflects in his relationship with Snape. Snape isn’t scary, he just demands lots of respect and has respect for people that have proven they are “worthy” of it, i.e., high marks, put together, confidence, strong willed, etc.

.☘︎ ݁˖ DIVINATION. Did you guys know that being a witch/wizard doesn’t automatically make you good at all forms of divination? I scripted Mattheo Riddle into this reality and me and him are soooo good at other forms of divination like tarot, coffee grounds, and even the the crystal ball, but Theodore Nott fucking sucksss at it. Hermione also didn’t do as well in the class as I know she could’ve done, but according to Treylawney, all forms of divination require open mindedness towards something you can’t understand. Someone like hermione, for example, wants to know everything all the time and doesn’t beat around the bush, so tarot isn’t her cup of tea because she doesn’t think it’s giving her exactly what she wants.

.☘︎ ݁˖ HOMEWORK. Homework can either be really fun or really time consuming. It’s just like regular homework where you recall everything you learned in class but homework isn’t very common the more you move up in classes, mainly because the magic you start to do becomes more hands on rather than memorizing. This doesn’t apply to Snape though. He loves homework.

.☘︎ ݁˖ UNIFORMS. THE ROBES ARE INSULATED. It’s very thick, good quality fabric and keeps you real warm during the winter but during the later hot months like September, it’s not uncommon to walk around with the robes open or in your hands, but you have to wear them in your body during class, no exceptions. They absorb stains??? This is one I wasn’t expecting but it’s a magical robe so…okay! I dropped cranberry juice on the sleeve and it just completely absorbed and it didn’t stink or anything. This doesn’t apply to the tie or anything else, those have to washed for sure.

.☘︎ ݁˖ REALITY. If you haven’t shifted yet, you’ll often hear people say “it’ll feel natural because you’ve already lived there your whole life” and while that is true, it’s also not because how am I supposed to be natural walking past Robert fucking Pattinson to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts???? In my mind, he’s always been Edward from Twilight and seeing him in the hogwarts robes just made me stop in my tracks and stare. Some things come natural and some things don’t but I embrace everything with open arms.

.☘︎ ݁˖ EXTRA. Draco is blonde as hell! Like Targaryen level blonde. I do think it’s natural tho cause Luna has the same platinum type of blonde going on. Harry’s scar is soooo much cooler in this reality, it’s thin but branches out on the side of his face and it’s much more noticeable than the one in the movie. Hermione has curly curly hair! I don’t know if she straightens it in the books but I know she does in the movie, in this reality she literally just got a better curl routine. She has a ton of products and really cares for her hair and she’s lowkey embarrassed cause it’s the one thing she considers “vain.”

There’s a “club” of sorts where a bunch of students get together and run around the castle at the crack ass of Dawn for exercise ( best believe they have NEVER seen the likes of me ). I was told there are wizards who are famous in muggle spaces, typically for music or art. The painting will warn people when the stairs are about to move lol. That whole house discrimination stuff doesn’t happen as often as it does in the movies/books, most people don’t actually care and Slytherins get along with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs well—however, Gryffindor does have the tendency to poke fun and Slytherins respond with dry sarcasm so sometimes it’s not a perfect fit! House discrimination was bigger in our parents age but as the years have gone by, the current gen doesn’t care fr.

That’s all I can think of atm, thank you for reading and yes I will be doing this with other places I’ve shifted to!

[norrisainz33]

New Girl || GR63

☆ summary: george has got himself a new partner and fans are obsessed but can’t seem to find her on social media

☆ pairing: george russell x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: yes!! thank you for taking the time to request 🤍

☆ part 2 here

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

F1Gossip has made a post

liked user1, user2, user3, user4, yourbff, user5, user6 and 15,637 others

f1gossip: looks like george russell has been getting cozy with his new partner over summer break! here’s what we know so far about gr63’s new girl: 1) her name is y/n, 2) she’s not famous (that we can verify), and 3) she has no social media. if any of you have any information, let us know!

view all 453 comments

user1: so it IS possible to be a wag and not be a famous model. there is hope 😫

user2: when is it my turn ?!!?!?!!!

user3: how is it possible she has no socials

user4: i went through all of george’s followers and can’t find a single one that looks like her

user5: i have dug through every pocket of the internet and can’t find her either

user3: honestly if we can’t find her then she def isn’t on here bc y’all are like the fbi

user6: oh to be a normal girl AND be george russell’s partner

user8: she’s living my dream

user9: if she goes to zandvoort one of y’all BEST ask her some questions

user10: or at least get some photos 😭

user11: i’m like 90% sure she went to uni with my brother - he says he recognizes her from one of his classes. so she MAY have gone to [insert university]

user9: obsessed with these CRUMBS

user10: y/n if you see this we accept u with open arms

user12: maybe just maybe george will hard launch over break so we can get more crumbs

gerogerussell63 added to his private story

view all story replies

alex_albon: georgie mate when am i going to meet this girl???

georgerussell63: she might be at zandvoort! we’re taking things a bit slow

alex_albon: says the man who has paparazzi photos of him and his girl sucking face

georgerussell63: alright alright fair point. y/n is just really shy and i don’t want to overwhelm her. maybe we do something low key together during break ?

alex_albon: i get it mate don’t worry!

landonorris: 👀

georgerussell63: 🤭

danielricciardo: oooo who is this?

georgerussell63: my girl ☝🏻

danielricciardo: thank you captain obvious 🧡

lilymhe: she’s so cute!! can’t wait to meet her 🤍

georgerussell63: you’re gonna love her. alex and i planned a double date for the 4 of us 😉

lilymhe has posted to her story

view story replies

user1: IS THAY GEORGE

user2: GEORGE AND Y/N SPOTTED??????

user3: this is the first time anyone has posted georgey/n that is NOT a gossip account ,, this is a huge day for annoying ppl (me)

georgerussell63: it was so good to see you both!

lilymhe: likewise! y/n is so sweet. you should keep her

georgerussell63: trust me, i plan on it

user4: thanks for feeding us georgey/n crumbs

user5: lily imma need you to spill the beans! i won’t tell a soul i promise

user5: ok i lied i definitely will tell people

georgerussell63 has added to their story

view story replies

user8: she’s hot i see why you’ve been gatekeeping

user9: the hard launch we’ve all been waiting for

yourbff: ok this is so cute 🥹

georgerussell63: she is the cutest

landonorris: ohhhh she made the non private story i see things are getting serious

georgerussell63: perhaps 👀

landonorris: you better bring her by mclaren in zandvoort i wanna meet her

georgerussell63: only if you promise to be normal mate

landonorris: when am i not?

georgerussell63: 🙄

user11: george russell when i catch you

user12: quick drop her @

user14: wow george i thought we had something special!

georgerussell63 has made a post

liked by yourbff, mercedesamgf1, alex_albon, f1gossip, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 567,347 others

georgerussell63: if only summer break lasted forever. off to the races we go! see you all in Zandvoort 💪🏻

view all 634 comments

user12: SHES MADE IT TO AN INSTA POST

user8: still no tags tho she must really not be on socials

user9: and honestly,, good for her

user12: i wonder what it’s like to not be chronically online

user13: omg y/n!!!!!

mercedesamgf1: looking forward to seeing you back out on the track!

georgerussell63: can’t wait 😍

user33: summer break george you will always be famous

lilymhe: omg look it’s my new best friend

georgerussell63: wow i’m flattered

lilymhe: NOT talking about you

user45: he’s made it insta post official

user56: oh to be on a boat with the george russell

lewishamilton: ready for a strong second half of the season!

georgerussell63: 💪🏻

user27: y/n is the blueprint fr

F1Gossip has made a post

liked user1, user2, user3, user4, yourbff, user5, user6 and 17,637 others

f1gossip: y/n attended her first grand prix! here are some photos of her from the weekend and an anonymous update from a fan who was at the gp: “y/n was one of the sweetest wags i’ve ever met. she was very shy and unsure of the all the attention but throughout all of the interactions with fans she was super kind and attentive in ways she definitely didn’t have to be. a few of us asked her some questions and this is what we got: she’s from [insert home country] which you can tell immediately by her accent, she doesn’t have any social media and her and george met while she was on vacation in barcelona ahead of the gp in spain.”

view all 324 comments

user22: oh my god shes so pretty wtf

user65: i’m so jealous of her,, she literally cracked the code

user99: i met her in zandvoort! she was so shy but literally so kind it was ridiculous. she told me she liked my george friendship bracelet so i gave it to her and you can see it in the first pic. she then proceeded to give me a bracelet she made 😭

user89: omg obsessed with her already

user77: wait this is so sweet?

user75: god i see what you have done for others

user47: brb booking tickets to monza and gonna walk around looking confused till i find myself a hot f1 boyfriend

user66: genuinely begging someone to get the story of how they met

georgerussell63: we were at a cafe in barcelona, i was in a rush and talking on the phone while grabbing a cup of tea (mistake) and i turned too quickly on my way out and ran directly into y/n making a complete and utter mess. she apologized to me for like 2 minutes straight even though i was the one who messed up and ruined her dress so i told her id buy her a new one after i realized i was talking to the prettiest girl i’d ever seen and the rest was history

user66: GEORORGE WHAT ARE YOU SOING HERE

user57: ohhhhhhh my god this is so cute

yourbff: can confirm it was really cute 🥹

user34: the meet cute to end all meet cutes wtf

user23: i also met her at zandvoort and i asked her how it felt to be living every tumblr blogs dream life and she laughed and said she knows she’s super lucky and won the lottery with meeting george 😫

user43: ok we stan tf out of her

user96: mother behavior

yourbff has made a post

liked user1, user2, user3, user4, yourbff, user5, georgerussell63, user6 and 8,657 others

yourbff: now that my bestie is a niche internet micro celebrity, here’s some pics from the infamous barcelona trip (don’t worry, she as approved the post and says hi to you all)

view all 297 comments

user1: two pretty best friends

user2: now we’re talkin , this is the sorta content we needed

user3: oh my god!!! it’s y/n!!!!! hi y/n 👋🏻

user6: quick someone convince her to make an account

yourbff: i’m working on it 😫

georgerussell63: i 🤍 barcelona too

yourbff: aww george 🥹 -y/n

user89: HELP SHES LIKE TOTO YSING SOMEONE ELSES WCCOUNT

user14: i’m obsessed with this

user39: hi y/n!! welcome to the wonderful world of being a mercedes fan 🫣

user40: everyone say thank you yourbff for the y/n post!

user98: thank you 🤭

user27: thank you mother

user76: making sure we are fed fr

user45: 📝go to barcelona to find hot bf

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated! still slowly working through requests

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[kxsagi]

Hear me out

Blue lock boys with an F1 driver or sports car racer gf

I feel like some of them (Shidou especially) would def find that sick as hell

“𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫”

a/n: formula 1 and sports car racing in general is so hot i have no idea how they do it

ft. shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, barou shoei

shidou ryusei

this man is your biggest, loudest, and most chaotic fan. he’s the type to scream his lungs out during your races, banging on the barriers like an unhinged menace. 

calls your car "our baby", despite doing nothing but exist while you do all the work. 

absolutely insists on getting a ride in your car, and when you finally take him for a spin, he's cackling the whole time, completely unfazed. "faster, babe! c'mon, is that all you got?" 

if any other driver tries to mess with you on the track? oh, he’s barking from the sidelines, ready to throw hands. 

posts videos of you overtaking people with captions like "watch my baby smoke these losers"

definitely tries to bribe your team into letting him drive your car. they have to physically remove him from the garage. 

itoshi rin

at first, he's skeptical. racing seems dangerous, and the thought of you getting into an accident makes his stomach twist. 

but the moment he watches one of your races? oh, he's hooked. you being the best at what you do? yeah, that’s rin’s love language. 

watches every single one of your races with his arms crossed, eyes sharp. never misses a detail. he knows your lap times, your rivals, your strategies, everything. 

refuses to admit that watching you dominate on the track turns him on, but you can see it in his eyes. 

if anyone talks shit about you, he will humble them. “you think you could do better? funny.” 

absolutely hates when shidou tries to hype you up in his presence. their fights get worse because now shidou has something new to clown rin about. 

itoshi sae

"hm. that's cool." he says, watching a clip of you overtaking someone in the most insane way possible. he's acting all nonchalant, but his ears are red. 

your career actually reminds him a lot of his own. the precision, the discipline, the high-speed decision-making – it’s something he deeply respects. 

secretly loves watching you race. he's the type to stay up at odd hours just to catch live broadcasts, even if he pretends it’s “just on in the background.” 

never says much about it, but when you win, you’ll find your favorite snacks waiting for you at home. if you look closely, he’s watching you with the smallest, proudest smirk. 

the only time you catch him openly impressed is when he’s in the passenger seat and you take a sharp turn at high speed. “not bad.” (he's actually fighting for his life). 

kaiser michael

he's already got an ego the size of a racetrack, but you being a literal racing champion? yeah, that just boosts his pride even more. 

calls you "my speed queen". constantly. 

insists that he could totally handle driving your car, even though he has no actual racing experience. the second he gets in, he’s gripping the wheel like his life depends on it. 

“baby, let me drive it just once.” “you’re not touching my car.” “you wound me.” 

customizes his soccer cleats with your racing number. tells the press it’s for “a special someone,” knowing damn well they’ll all go crazy trying to figure it out. 

watches your post-race interviews just to smirk at how effortlessly you handle the media. if an interviewer ever tries to corner you with weird questions, he will make a scene. 

isagi yoichi

at first, he’s just in awe. like, holy shit, his girlfriend is a professional racer?? that's insane. 

gets super invested in your races. he watches them the same way he watches soccer – analyzing strategies, predicting overtakes, yelling at the screen like he's your personal coach. 

"SHE'S GONNA TAKE THE INSIDE LINE – YES!! THAT'S MY GIRL!!"

definitely asks you a million questions about your thought process mid-race. "so when you overtook that guy, were you already planning it two turns ahead, or did you read his movements last second?" 

big on post-race analysis. if you ever lose, he’s watching replays with you, pointing out moments where you could’ve gained an advantage. 

but when you win? oh, he's losing his mind. posting clips, hyping you up, grinning so hard his face hurts. "look at my girlfriend, that’s MY GIRL." 

lowkey nervous when he rides in your car for the first time. he trusts you, but he's gripping the door handle at least once. 

“this is... fast. yeah. really fast.” nervous laugh 

totally has a custom jersey with your racing number on it. wears it to your races like the supportive bf he is. 

100% the type to dream about you winning a championship and running into his arms like athletes do in sports movies (he will deny this if you ask).

BONUS: will send death threats to anyone harassing you.

nagi seishiro

first reaction? “ehh, that sounds like a lot of work.” but the moment he watches you race? he’s mesmerized. 

loves watching replays of your overtakes in slow motion. something about the precision and reflexes you have makes him think "ah, that's kinda like soccer and games, huh?"

the type to fall asleep in your lap while you're watching old race footage. mumbles "you're so cool" before passing out. 

if you let him ride shotgun, he’s totally unfazed. doesn’t scream, doesn’t flinch, just vibes like he’s on a casual sunday drive. 

but don’t let that fool you, he brags about you constantly. “my girlfriend’s job is literally speedrunning in real life.”“huh? my driving? nah, i just let her take the wheel.”

definitely asks you to pick him up from practice in your race car at least once.

bachira meguru

oh, he's obsessed. you drive fast? he thinks that’s the sexiest thing in the world. 

if you let him ride along, he's laughing the entire time. “woohoo! go faster, baby!” 

gets way too invested in your rivalries. “ugh, i hate that guy, he cut you off last race. lemme fight him.” 

definitely forces you to teach him how to drift in an empty parking lot. 

will 100% challenge you to a mario kart race and then sulk when you absolutely destroy him. 

chigiri hyoma

finally, someone who understands the need for speed! 

he loves how both of your sports are all about acceleration and precision. he’ll actually analyze your races like he does soccer matches. 

insists on stretching with you because “reaction time is everything, babe.”

if you take him for a ride, he's cool about it, until you really push the speed, and then he’s gripping the seat. “okay, okay, i get it, you’re fast – holy shit.”

lowkey loves how fierce you look in your race suit. 

barou shoei

"hmph. a sport where all you do is drive? easy." 

then he actually watches one of your races and sees how intense it is, and now he has respect. 

refuses to admit that seeing you dominate on the track is attractive, but he gives you that one approving nod after a win. 

if you let him ride in your car, he crosses his arms and acts unimpressed, but his grip on the seat betrays him. 

threatens to crush anyone who even thinks about cutting you off in a race. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[angelesca]

d d d d dddd d DATING ANAXA HEADCANONS 🗣️🗣️🗣️ bc im proper insane, bonkers even (oh blimey she escaped the asylum again)

full art plug here😎

did i draw this and imagine a million scenarios during it? yes. yes idid. this post is the result. btw havent played 3.1 so here are my wrong headcanons (more mischaracterisation? love that) (w/ gnreader as usual!) bc i love my men bratty and smart. WARNING!! i broke my sfw rules for anaxa LMAOOO💔💔mix of sfw + NSFW ahead guys look OUT ITS NOT A DRILL THIS IS HAPPENING AAAAA😭🙏

starting off strong. i ant hold it in anymore ANAXA'S EROGENOUS ZONE IS UNDER HIS EYEPATCH🗣️🗣️🗣️ I HAVE SPOKEN MY TRUTH‼️THIS IS WHAT MADE ME QUESTION MY SFW STATUS I CAN FINALLY RELEASEMY DEMONS

i imagine he lowkey loves it when you have your finger under his eyepatch and. penetrate it. into his cosmos space thingy. and like he breathes really heavy, flushed cheeks, some tears, def some stifled moaning, and will hold your wrist to nudge your finger further in. basically bro is getting off to it. will clean your finger with his tongue after the session, but you have to help him walk around since his legs are deffo jelly after that DO YOU GUYS SEE WHAT IM SEEING PLEEEEASEEE SOMEONE WRITE THIS DONT MAMKE ME DO ITTT😭😭😭😭😭🙏🙏

EDIT: ANAXA HAS A "G-SPOT"/PROSTATE IN HIS SPACE CHEST🗣🗣🗣

WILL TAKE OFF HIS RINGS AND PUT IT ON YOUR FINGERS RAAAAAAAAAAH and he def teases you by sliding it on your ring finger, gauging your reaction as he smirks (that sly sod omggg)

"hmm, this finger looks a little lonely... i could change that."

interlaces his hand with yours to stretch it, like a massage. knows all the pressure points to help de-stress you

uses his wind powers to do fun magic tricks and play with you like imagine he only has to flick his finger and the wind pulls you closer to him HUUUUUUUUUUU SICKCCKKKK. will also blow a calm, soft breeze if you need to relax and take your mind off things.

literally gets a kick off of flustering you (it's his love language) every time you ask him why his response is: "so? don't like it?" mans not embarassed💔

if you have any texting habits, like sending cute stickers or kaomojis, anaxa will copy it bc he thinks its cute and amusing. always replying to your messages, although the same can't be said with the chrysos heirs who nag at him for ignoring theirs

anaxa: where are you? i've been waiting for ages ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ you: ??? that's my kaomoji??? anaxa: ours now anaxa: (҂` ﾛ ´)︻デ═一 you: ＼(º □ º l|l)/

idk why i feel this so strongly but anaxa just does many smaller kisses, like pecks to the cheek. kinda playful, fleeting but always returning. i also feel like he's a neck kinda guy, always brushing his fingers along it or placing kisses. will secure you in place with a hug just to kiss the nape.

even though you two are together, anaxa will still give you stinky side eyes. loves to hear your gossip for sure, he doesn't say it but he loves chatting shit about others. will be the quietest ever when you have juicy stories.

will flame anyone who has made you upset to bits and pieces. bro's mouth is like a machine gun

likes to tilt your chin, moving it so you face him whenever he wants your attention.

he likes it when you take control, that brat taming typa shiii brooo00 he likes it when you rough him up, always a cheeky grin on his face. prods you as well, like "is that it?", "c'mon, harder my love..."

loves when you give him hickeys, or any markings like scratches. its like staking your claim on him and he fw with that😎

one sure way to get him flustered is straight up telling him "i love you". it forces him to confront his feelings head on and anaxa can't deal with that. will lightly flick your forehead, or anything to stop you from staring at his reddened face.

a/n: so. this is what happens whne im menstruating. how we feeling guys. it was jsut a few very insane headcanons tbh, the rest were fine, bit of an overreaction looool this is tame in comparison to my ao3 works. my god i need my daily cuppa where is it. this reminds me of when i was a wee teenager and experienced akechi from p5 for the first time. changed my trajectory fr. thanks akechi goro u saved ruined me

[nanamiskentos]

going to a cafe with the jujutsu kaisen men a/n: (based on irl experience with a wide variety of subpar men) 😭 gojo's order being my order...aurkay!

gojo — def the type to walk in and push his sunglasses down to check out the place. his order def goes something like a venti caramel macchiato with almond milk, two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut, and a little caramel swirl at the top. smiles and is friendly to all the baristas, he's never rude to workers. tells the barista is gojo, with an o. whoever's unfortunate enough to be stuck next to him is doomed to hear him wax poetic about how coffee beans are the soul of the earth, and its 'really deep, you wouldn't get it lol'. if you order a black coffee, he'll ask if everything is okay at home. can't leave the cafe without ordering a $8.00 sweet treat and then wondering why all his purchases are adding up

geto — walks in as if he's a regular and tells the barista that he'll have his 'regular'. the barista has never seen him before. probably orders a flat white, double shot of espresso, no foam. he always says he doesn't have to pretend to like foam because he's chill like that. he'll ask for the wifi password, but only so he can show off how good he is at working in a cafe, but his ass is on coolmathsgames. will nod and pretend to care about whatever you're saying but he's still thinking about coolmathsgames. will also drop random metaphors like 'life is just like coffee. you either take it strong or with sugar.' you tell him to save the bad metaphors for his cult.

nanami — doesn't wander or hesitate when he enters the cafe. checks his watch every five minute. orders a black coffe, medium, and adds one packet of sugar. he's pretty good at ordering what he wants efficiently, and it leaves even the barista worried. he's here to relax so don't ask him any unnecessary question because this man needs a break. actually enjoys eavesdropping on people's conversations, and ends up tilting his angle to snoop on gossip better. avoids small talk like its another curse. you can't really make him react too much in a cafe, unless you spill coffee on his freshly pressed suit. will be passive aggressive and suggest that the cafe chooses better music. likes a good, dependable pastry. apple danishes are a favourite.

sukuna — prefers tea, without debate. but still orders relatively normal things. likes a good latte with chocolate syrup. but the king of curses kinda has to look cool, so he powers his way through a black coffee, with no sugar or milk. you swear his eyes are tearing up as he pretends to like it. after every sip of coffee, he sighs really loudly and it gets a bit annoying. even after you ask what's wrong, he says its nothing and continues to sigh loudly. nanami may be the one who eavesdrops, but sukuna is the one who interferes. will turn around in his chair to give unsolicited advice, but he genuinely thinks he's being helpful by telling schoolgirls to buy cleavers to chop their friends' hands off. is mildly offended when they move tables and give him weird looks. passes loud comments on other people and tells couples when he thinks they will breakup. attempts to connect to the wifi three times before threatening to burn the router.

toji — the barista asks if he wants a pastry with his drink and he asks 'do i look like the type of man to eat a muffin?' but if they're free, he'll take two. sits with his back to the wall like he's in a mob movie. god help anyone who sits too close to him, he really just doesn't trust anyone in his personal space. doesn't even acknowledge the existence of others until he's had at least three sips of his coffee. you could tell him his house is on fire, and he’d just mutter that he can't do anything about it now. types the wifi password on his phone with one finger like a caveman. tells parents to 'control their spawn' but entertains kids with coin tricks when no-one is looking. sometimes struggles to fit the lid on his go-to cup, and refuses to asks for help. wrestles with it for five minutes, getting increasingly annoyed before rushing out the door.

choso (this one is dedicated to pookie @creamflix) — frowns at the menu like it's written in an ancient language, like wtf is affogato. if someone behinds him coughs, he scolds them and says he's going as fast as he cans. spends 10 minutes deciding and then panics at the last second, tells the barista to give him whatever. if the barista asks any follow up questions (like milk preferences) he genuinely short circuits, "what kinds of milk are there?" he's genuinely baffled that there are options beyond 'cow.' he'll point at a pastry and ask what's in it. the barista explains and he replies with 'okay i trust you.' always ends up picking a wobbly table by accident and spends 15 minutes trying to fix it with folded napkins. if someone asks to share his table, he'll look like they just asked for his kidneys. if someone asks for his opinion on his pastry, its always a dumbass cryptic answer like 'its interesting.' uses his phone on full brightness and everyone can see him look up 'how to pronounce cafe au lait.' cleans up after himself because he's nice like that. if the staff get his order wrong, he never says anything even if it tastes like dirt.

[idontmindifuforgetme]

hi cianna sorry for the really broad question but it really smart and ur soul is beautiful and i think lowkey if i asked this irl people would get very worried so i’m asking u. any advice 4 a girl in her late teens who’s just now coming out of a 4-5 year long slump of wanting to kill herself real bad and now needs to be a functioning person and pass exams and go to university next year ect. ?

Hi this literally happened to me in my teen years!! I was not suicidal, but I def had a major slump I had to pull myself out of by uni. Here are some things I think could’ve worked better for me - feel free to disregard at your discretion/based on your circumstances :)

Get therapy!! Teenage me would’ve benefited from it so much. There are therapists who’d be happy to give you student discounts. You’ll be going through a lot of change - re learning how to take care of yourself, discovering your boundaries, battling regret for wasting time etc etc… it’s just better to go through it w a professional who would show you compassion but also push you to improve. It’s not a substitute for real friendships, but it absolutely helps

Ignore people who will tell you they peaked in hs (lol). This will be a lot of people btw. You’ll get major fomo bc you’ll be like?? I didn’t do any of that. I was too busy surviving. I won’t have things to look back at the way they do. But that’s where the uphill battle of saying no to fomo comes in - you have to remind yourself that you’re at the beginning of your life, that you could completely turn it around in college, and peaking in hs is like actually sad and that what matters is the life you make for yourself moving forward

People (family and teachers) want to help. So let them

Push yourself but don’t overcorrect. The antidote to not having friends is not overextending yourself and saying yes to everything and having no boundaries and burning out. Pace yourself. Trying to become someone completely different is also a sign you don’t like yourself very much

You have to aggressively combat the self hatred and re affirm to yourself day by day that you deserve good things and that you are enough and that you don’t need other people to imbue your life and give it dimension. They are a nice bonus but it’s all in you

Hot take but be careful w self help content. It preys on people in vulnerable stages (like you) and is easy to get addicted to

I don’t know where you stand w your phone, but decrease phone time. It’s very personal to everyone how they can accomplish this, so research all the different methods and apply what best fits you / what you think you can stick by best!

Cliche advice is true - getting out of the slump starts w things like a simple skincare routine and an outfit you feel good in

Say yes to things more often. Try to approach people more often, even if it gives you rejection sensitivity. I wish I did this more tbh - I think I did put myself out there but was inconsistent. No “social fuck ups” will matter at your age so just try to learn as much as you can

You have to contextualize this hard time period of your life as a learning experience that gave you a sort of depth that is rarely seen in most people. It wasn’t all for nothing — it shaped you into you

You’re defined by who you are and the values you have — not the person you used to be. The imposter syndrome in you might be like “everyone knows I was xyz girl who didn’t talk to anyone and could not even turn an assignment in on time,” but what are you now? Are you trying to befriend people now? Getting a lot better at managing your time now? Doing really good in school now? That’s who you are.

Unconventional advice but get a cute job at a library or a cafe or something. It will re introduce discipline into your system and acquaint you w people your age

Exercise really really really really really helps. It can start simple but it has to be started

Research programs you want to get into. Make a game plan in accordance to that. Talk to your advisor about it

Join clubs in college :) talk to people but don’t overextend yourself if they don’t reciprocate - you have plenty of time to make friends :)

Journal more. It helps!!!!

The world is not out to get you

Cliche but true - reading helps so much. Even just one book at a time at your own pace. Luckily I was reading so much in my teen years but I’m telling u this in case it’s not really part of ur palette

What’s the hobby that really speaks to your soul?? Aggressively pursue it

Romanticizing simple things helps tbh

Do not hate yourself into getting better!! You were just a child who did the best they can w the cards they were dealt. Now you’re saying enough to passive living and making active effort to get out of your slump — and that matters more than anything. You will experience the FOMO and the regret and the “why didn’t I do xyz when I was younger.” Everyone does, but for you it will be exacerbated bc you’ll feel like you wasted an epoch of your life everyone else romanticizes. This is where therapy and radical acceptance come in — and also just brutally reminding yourself of the facts, including how you’re so very incredibly young. Time is on your side and you can do anything you want

I’m so proud of you for taking the first step — which is understanding the problem!! I know I wasn’t that brave at your age. Good luck with everything xx

[rantaroamamifuturegf]

kokichi flirting with reader (who acts like kyoko) during class trials?

A/N: I'm back from my break!!. Thanks for requesting!! I hope you enjoy sorry if it’s short I ran out of ideas and of course spelling errors and yes I’m working on other request rn

Plot: Flirting with a Reader who acts like Kyoko

!!Female Reader!!

Character(s) being used: Kokichi Ouma

Help the people side eyeing him during the trial has me in tears😭😭😭

He won't constantly flirt during the trial but he'll random just something flirty to you and if anyone asks about it, he'll just brush them off or say it was a joke/lie

There’s times when you agreed to what he was saying and he’ll go like “(Name)? Are you flirting with me?”

Would get secretly annoyed if you kept ignoring him like to the point he’ll start mocking you just to get your attention

Won't let you been seen as a suspect but won't make you look either. Lowkey if people started suspecting you, he know that you'll be able to handle it on your own but still would say something that would make you either look suspicious or just make everyone confused

Def bugs you the entire time even if you ignore him, he'll continue even if people tell him to shut up. He'll brush em off

If people keep on questioning him, he'll lie and say that you're secretly asking for it but obviously knowing you they won't buy it

Would def fake cry in the trial if you don't react or not even give him a bit of attention, he’s just being annoying but needy

If you said a statement and it sounded most likely to the case he’ll agree with you and say that you always right and how everyone else is wrong (would get a little annoyed if he doesn’t get a reaction though)

If you start accusing someone, he’ll join in even if he doesn’t have any evidence and just say you’re right either way and was try to make cringe smooth ass flirty comments to you even if you don’t react to it he know other people will “Yeah that’s right baby you tell ‘em!” And he’ll say it so proudly too like 😭

The amount of side eyes are bring me to tears

Hope you enjoy - Manji

[spookyysinsanity]

dating castiel headcanons (fem!reader)

cw: sexual innuendos(not too bad) and tooth rotting FLUFF

after the first time he touches you(don’t be freaky with this) he never wants to stop. he never realized how touchstarved he was and he always just wants to hold you. whether is your hand in public, or holding you as you sleep, he just likes to be close to you.

remembers EVERY anniversary. he learned from dean that anniversaries are incredibly important and to never forget anything (dean is if u look at it canonically the type to def be bitchslapped for not remembering your 3 month anniversary) and so after a month of being with him, he just bombards you with gifts and food and flowers, and you sit down and explain that while it’s very sweet, he is more important to you than any tangible objects.(he’d still do it anyways)

he doesn’t like to say your dating, he doesn’t think it’s a serious enough term for what you are. he always says you’re his, but not in a bdsm way,.. more of a ‘souls intertwined and bound for all of eternity way’..

forehead kisses always

he likes to dress you…like putting on your shoes, buttoning your shirt, clasping your bra…

he likes to take you with him all around the world since all he has to do is snap, and you’re on a beach at sunset 🤷‍♀️

he always has a wing tucked around you even if you can’t see it. he would never let anyone hurt you

always calls you by your name, but isn’t one for pet names. he prefers to hear himself say your name very clearly, and vice versa. but, he won’t complain if in a softer situation, you called him “baby” or “angel”…cough cough wink wink

will sing or hum you to sleep, or tell you stories about creation

loves when you talk about and explain human behaviors. you’re the only person who is always patient with him and doesn’t feel embarrassed to ask you any and all questions

loves to wash and/or braid your hair for you oand loves watching you get ready

he literally won’t let you do anything he wants everything to be so simple and so easy for his beautiful human girl. will abuse his angelic abilities for you

will heal you before you even know you’re hurt

he loves to lay on your tummy or have you curled up in his lap. again he just wants to be close to you

_______________________________________________

a/n: thank you sm for reading!!! likes comments and reblogs are appreciated! if you like this pls lmk and i’ll write more!:) i’ve been drafting some nsfw headcanons… 😜

[ri-writes-if]

The Vez questions had me wondering...

As both their ruler and their friend/family, what does Vez think (when friendly with the MC) of each individual RO other than them getting together with the MC?

I'll answer considering the current circumstances in the story 👀

There's a layer of worry for all of them because of who the Oracle is and what it means for their future.

For Os, Vez doesn't want to influence their decisions in this matter, but they also can't stand aside because they're too concerned for their child. Vez will try to speak with Os about it. They won't persuade them to change their mind, but they'll ask whether Os is prepared for what is to come. If they aren't, this relationship might hurt Os and the Oracle more than if they let go of it before it gets too serious. Ultimately, Vez will let Os be, but they will make sure Os knows Vez is always here to support them.

For Laz, I think Vez is perplexed because Laz isn't telling them about the Oracle or what is going on between them, lol! Vez is curious and has been asking questions, but Laz refuses to slip up any piece of info. Vez doesn't know what to think and whether they need to be worried. So they're just scratching their head, trying to figure out if it's serious for Laz or not (and for the Oracle too, if friendly).

For Ash, they're concerned, but they don't feel like they have any right to put their nose into it outside of asking a couple of questions. Ash doesn't want to talk about it (it's a personal matter & Ash doesn't like when anyone tries to ask questions / interfere), so Vez tries not to push them. Vez also knows Ash can be stubborn, and they don't want Ash to think Vez is against their relationship with the Oracle or wants to change their mind or something else that might irk Ash. Ultimately, Vez believes Ash knows what they're stepping into & can handle themselves.

For Az, Vez is def very worried and even feels more protective than over the other two (except for Os; their child always takes priority). They don't think Az can restrain themselves even if they understand what a relationship with the Oracle will entail. They also think that if something happens to the Oracle, it'll hit Az pretty hard, harder than the others, and they're right about it. Again, it's not their place to intervene... but they might.

[forsaken-headcanons]

HCs for Elliot!! [yapping session nerd warning]

After seeing people hc elliots is a people pleaser, i got the urge and idea to do some people pleaser characteristics research. As a people-pleaser-on-a-fundamental-worrying-level myself, i thought of giving some headcanons about his people pleasing side

[This is probably me just projecting some traits that are considered as people pleasing according to some psychology websites]

Just to note, people pleasing isn't a medical term used by psychologists, more of a label

- People pleasers please people because they want to feel needed by people and will become the "handy reliable man" due to their low self- esteems

- Elliot has his cheerful, happy personality as a way to cover his low self esteems that he has, and also to serve customers with a smile (except 007n7 lol)

- He molded himself into one of the caregiver/parental roles from the survivors despite his young age (prob is in his mid twenties), with most of the other being older than him. This gives him pressure and stress to operate efficiently and take care of the others, while having little-to-no time for himself

- His selfless giving and caring are often taken up to others' advantages (mostly unknowingly)

^ Due to this, Elliot feels extremely burnt-out and hates his role he assigned himself to because it often feels like what he is doing is one-sided

He is an absolute peacemaker, trying to solve/fix people's problems for them and coming up with various excuses for people's bad habits

^Though lately, he has been tired from being the cover-up guy, so he almost stopped doing that

- Possibly due to his service for customers, he would keep his opinions humble and agree what the customer's says

- Elliot would often not speak his mind and just agree with people's opinions or find a middle ground between arguments even if he doesn't wholly agree with what he is saying

[This includes pineapplepizza. He likes it but wouldn't admit it]

^Even if somebody asked his opinion about smth small, he would still hold "do what you want" even if he has the strongest opinion about the question

- Man hates being the caregiver lately, since many don't even take his pizzas, but still contributes to taking care of some sentinels like guest 1337

^ def would contribute to smth he dont wanna do, like distracting the killer [this aint dandys world though]

- Saw hcs of him being the therapist that people can vent to, but wouldn't really talk about his feelings

[Though I can see g1337 being a dad and listening/ caring for Elliot's mental and physical being] <-Yo have any hcs on this mod？

People pleasing is mostly rooted from low self-esteem and wanting a sense of belonging, which could root from various long-term traumas, like neglect from parents of physiological and emotion needs, rather than a once event like an accident

I don't necessarily think Elliot's parents were abusive though, it's more that his parents had arguments about finance and business managing a lot that Elliot's and his sisters needs weren't often met and he had to take care of his sister with a "third parent role". There were definitely maids around but their parents mostly argued when there weren't anyone but their children around.

Probably Elliot was taught to be humble due to the family wealth status to a point when anyone compliments him for his pizza mkaing skills he would just down play it and say its no big deal or nothing big

Thats what I have for now

[And yes some-perhaps most- were projections]

I read that you hc Itrapped NPD AND BPD which is an interesting combo, def would do research on those and make some headcanons for ya mod

🔫🐟 anon

[omg a hc not about 007n7]

Why yes, I do have some headcanons for 1337 being a father figure.

He would father over all the younger survivors - Noob, Two Time and Elliot. He'd call them "kiddos" and spend most of his time in rounds protecting them.

More Elliot particular hcs - Guest would call him "Elli". Elliot gets hurt a lot during rounds and nobody is there to heal him (unless a dispenser somehow survives for longer than 2 miliseconds), but Guest is always willing to patch him up and treat his wounds. He has a lot of experience in doing so from his time in the army. He'd give him some advice that would help Elliot survive too. He's more than willing to listen to Elliot's troubles.

[sossolei]

my experience shifting to haikyuu/anime reality °‧🏐⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

DISCLAIMERS ! I only stayed here for a couple hours, everyone spoke English, I didn’t script anything because I shifted by accident, k that’s all. ANTI SHIFTERS DNI ! ! !

The first question anyone asks when you’ve shifted to an anime is “what did it look like” and in my personal experience, they just looked like regular Japanese teenagers I fear lmfaoo. I’ve seen posts about this one artist on Instagram who does like 3D renders of anime characters but that’s def not what everyone looked like when I shifted. Everything was just natural, it was regular Japan, with regular students, with regular unnatural natural hair. Everyone’s hair was natural unless it’s obvious that they dyed it, even Hinata’s!

I shifted during the camp arc? I don’t actually remember what it’s called here but that one weekend where some of the volleyball schools got together and trained together. I woke up on the Karasuno bus when were like 15 minutes away and was completely mortified cause I was drooling on Kiyoko’s shoulder while I was sleeping (sorry queen). She didn’t mind but…ugh. Anyways! I was definitely freaked out for a goooood five minutes but I just kept gripping the bus seats and looking out the window to “ground myself” or whatever.

Once it did register that this was all real, I kept doubting myself and then realizing that if this wasn’t real, or if it was a dream then I wouldn’t be able to see my feet or my hands, I wouldn’t be able to feel every bump the bus made or even accurately conjure up what Japan looks like considered I have never been there before. It was definitely weird at first but Kiyoko was very chill and didn’t question me lowkey losing my mind. She offered me some Japanese cookies and just listened to music for the whole ride.

Meeting everyone was the most confusing part emotionally because on one hand, I’ve already been going to school at Karasuno for months now and I’ve met these boys already once I joined the team but in o.r I had fallen asleep watching these people on a screen so it was trippy asf seeing everyone in the 3D.

The first people I spoke to besides Kiyoko, was Tanaka and Nishinoya cause they asked for cookies too and then Hinata butted in and it became this whole little fight oh god. Hinata sat a little ways away from me but he still tried to have a conversation with me which I lowkey appreciated cause it felt like a way to get out of my own head about shifting and just enjoy the moment.

Appearance wise, it’s like I said, everyone just looked like regular Japanese students, but the younger students definitely still have their baby fat. Hinata, yamaguchi, and even kageyama had slightly chubby cheeks and just look very young in the face. Tsukishima looks just slightly older but I definitely attribute that to his height. If you know any tall high school boys, you’ll know what I mean, he just has a baby face in a tall body. Also! Asahi is not as scary as they make him seem in the anime😭 he just has facial hair at a young age so people think he looks a lot older but he is not scary. To me at least, he looks a lil racially ambiguous cause of his tanner skin and his overall build is just bigger than most Japanese men, but I think he’s 100% Japanese.

Okay so during this time I was missing my Haikyuu phase when I was completely obsessed with Kenma, whole time y’all…. I barely even spoke to him that entire day LMAOOOOOOiwassadOOOOO! No but fr, I tried talking to him a couple times and he literally was just like this 🧍I kid you not. Kuroo spoke up for him sometimes but my little 2020 heart was so devastated guys. He was either always on that damn video game or focused on volleyball. I think he only spoke to me first one time to ask if I knew when we were getting food, and I BURNT THE BACON. I just stuttered a “I don’t know, you can ask coach” and he was like “ok thanks” and walked away. Oh my god I’m embarrassed again just thinking about it pls. Tsukishima was getting something from the vending machine when this happened and when I tell you he would not let me live it down! He stood up from getting a drink, pointed, and LAUGHED??!??!!! WOW, I’m done talking about this I’m getting embarrassed all over again LMFAOO

Honestly? It was kind of boring after a while. I mean yeah I was freaked out over meeting everyone from the other schools but I was lowkey just the water girl so I kinda just stuck by coach and Kiyoko the whole time. I looked through my camera roll to try to understand the reality more ( considering this was an accident ) and I mainly saw pictures of Hinata and Nishinoya stealing my phone, my cat, homework, and general scenery. And then in my text messages I had a group chat with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima that I definitely started, I have no doubt about that, and we’re closer friends than the others on the team I’m pretty sure we went to the same middle school. There was no TikTok or instagram on my phone, I think there’s a Japanese version of instagram and I was using that instead. I did have Pinterest tho!

Uhhh idk what else to add. I remember being absolutely STUNNED by Akaashi tho, he’s genuinely the definition of a pretty boy. The best comparison in my mind is like Sunghoon from Enhypen but they don’t look alike, they just have a similar aura. Kuroo was very nice and very tall, Daichi is very fatherly but Suga moreso, I now he’s considered the “mom” in this reality but their dynamic with the team is more like good cop and bad cop. Daichi is always good cop but Suga can flip in an instant when it’s time to lock tf in. I did accidentally teach Nishinoya, Tanaka and Hinata about “lock in” and “locking in” and they were just starting to get annoying with it before I shifted back so…sorry to the rest of the team!

Honestly, it was kinda humid that day and I had to keep getting up and down to help with things so as time went by, the fun started to wear off and I started getting really annoyed😭 I shifted back because towards the end of the day, I was just picking up a bunch of miscellaneous balls that were thrown around the court and somebody deadass SPIKED a ball that almost hit me in the fucking head, I screamed. I did. After that I dropped all the volleyball in the bin, sat on the floor with my head in my hands trying to figure out how the fuck to shift back?? So I just closed my eyes, repeated “i need to go back original reality” a couple times and woke up again here.

If I didn’t answer something you want to know, message me anyway you want whether that be a comment or a pm or the “ask me anything” thing, I will try to answer to the best of my ability! Just remember that just because I’ve shifted doesn’t mean I’m like the know it all, Albert Einstein of this, I’m still learning as I go so..yeah! BYE!

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ Cruel ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Dazai Osamu

a/n: follow-up from this fic, i hope i did ok! i really like writing pm dazai... also i wanna thank everyone who has followed me/liked/reblogged my posts. i really didn't expect to get any attention at all, so it means so much to me T_T and i will def get to writing ab the other characters soon~

genre: angst. so much of it. and the nasty.

content warning: f!reader. unrequited(-ish) feelings (but not rly). toxic ass relationship (like, RLY unhealthy), dependent relationship... i hope you don't find MC deplorable because personally i find her real af

MDNI! rough sex, choking, fingering, degradation both from dazai and self (bitch, slut), humiliation, trauma, bj (facefucking). dazai is rly rough with main character and not very communicative beforehand, but he checks up on character during. sex is consensual, but main character continues to force herself to do things she doesn't want to for the sake of wanting to please dazai (there is no pressure or coercion involved on dazai's part, to clear that up). if there's anything else you think i should add, please let me know.

summary: after failing to stop sleeping with the port mafia executive, dazai osamu, despite your unrequited feelings, you've come to terms with the fact that you can't bring yourself to leave him behind. but dazai's determined to show you there's nothing in him worth fighting for.

this place is all too familiar to you.

you’re bent over dazai’s desk and he’s towering over you from behind, pressed up against your body. there’s a haughty grin on his lips as he’s rucking up your skirt, grabbing your ass roughly and making you wonder when you began wearing short skirts all the time, if you’ve started doing it for the sake of easy access. after all, how many times in the past year that you’ve known this man has dazai actually taken the time to properly get you out of your clothes before fucking you, let alone gotten completely undressed for you himself? you could probably count it on one hand.

the thought makes you feel somewhat ashamed, knowing that you’re having routine sex with someone who won’t often do something as simple as strip naked for you. somehow the simple act of undressing feels all the more intimate, which makes you feel all the more distant from dazai, making him feel that much more removed in these fleeting moments you share. but of course, you don’t dare to mention it to him – not now, not ever. just let dazai’s hands roam where they wish, because more than anything, you want to please him. more than anything, you just want him to want you – whatever that might mean.

the last time you saw dazai, you had resolved to leave him for good, determining that your relationship was going nowhere. you were well-aware that dazai was only using you for sex, and that you were in the throes of an unrequited love with one of the most dangerous men in yokohama. but staving yourself off of a man like dazai, who could bring you in and out of heaven, was like trying to quit an addiction. you’ve never found yourself more attached to anyone in your life. it wasn’t long until you found yourself sleeping in his bed again. it was futile trying to fight it now.

“i said to look me in the eyes.” vicious words interrupt your thoughts, followed by an exasperated mutter of, “stupid bitch,” as you feel a few light slaps on your cheek. hands that once traveled up your skin so gently, caressing you and handling you like a fragile object, are now grabbing your neck and squeezing its sides, forcing you to meet his arrogant gaze. this is a different dazai than the one you know, a more cruel, more callous one. “ah, there’s my good girl,” he whispers coldly with a smirk, your jaw caught in his slender fingers as you now properly meet his gaze. “now, open your mouth for me… good. see how much prettier you are when you shut up and stop asking so many questions?”

he slips his thumb into your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before swiping your own saliva across your puckered lips.  “good… suck my fingers like the slut you are,” dazai murmurs erotically into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck as he dips his fingers in and out of your mouth.  “this is what you want, right? what you keep coming back for.”

his words are mean tonight, like he’s punishing you for trying to get too close to him. vengeful, almost. although it’s quite typical of him to get impatient and even indifferent, dazai’s not the type to bring this kind of demeanor into the bedroom… at least, he’s never shown this side of himself before. but tonight he is more than determined to bare it all to you, to show you what he is really made of – and teach you to stay away from him, for good.

as he looks into your big, trusting eyes, which have never gazed at him with malice, he bitterly reflects on his decision. the vastness of those eyes of yours have never held anything but pure intentions and righteousness. they represent everything that he is not… and they hold the same values that got odasaku killed. you are a mere civilian who threw herself into the port mafia’s radar by sleeping with one of its infamous executives. at this point, your name has snaked its way into the mouth of dazai’s underlings; his enemies have readied themselves at your door. dazai was selfish to think he can keep you all to himself, his precious little treasure.

this was bound to happen, anyway. better that it ends now.

before you fool yourself into thinking a man like him can amount to anything more than a killer.

before your hands get soiled with blood.

before you’re shot dead…

… and before he’s convinced himself that he has a right to any of this. a right to see you, a right to hold you, a right to one day love you.

that’s why tonight, he’ll push you to your limits until you cry out in pain and pleasure; and when you’ve had enough of him and tell him to stop, he’ll leave wordlessly and never return, so you’re left only with the memory of his callousness and utter disregard for you.

gazing into the expectant eyes that are staring into his, dazai hikes his hands up your shirt to palm your breasts only to be surprised to feel nothing but bare skin. “no bra? you really are a slut, huh?” he shakes his head with a dry laugh as he tugs your shirt over your head, discarding the article of clothing on the floor. “always so desperate to be fucked.” nipples hardening at the brush of his hand, you bite back a sinful moan as he teases you with fleeting touches that send pulses to your core. the sight of you so vulnerable in his arms makes him hard; you feel his erection pressing into your back as he plays with your nipples. before you know it, those beautiful fingers of his are reaching for where you want him most – between your thighs, pushing aside your panties and sliding between your slickness.

he gasps mockingly as if he’s surprised you’re wet for him, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips. his hands know you well, his fingers finding the spot that makes you feel the best and rubbing in agonizingly slow circles. you can’t help but let his name roll off your tongue and let him know who you belong to, a quiet prayer on your tongue. succumbing to his touch so easily feels almost like a sin, but if it’s dazai, you’d do it in a heartbeat every time. even if it meant going to hell for it.

intoxicated by his cologne and blinded by his touch, when you feel his lips traversing your neck, you’re thinking to yourself like a fool: yes, this is how it should be. dazai’s awfully gentle now. this is how it should always be. you’re starved for him, begging for him to want you.

begging for him to love you.

but this man will never love you.

because this man is the devil.

“get on your knees, pretty girl.” there are those sweet words of his – ‘pretty girl.’ that term of endearment that he’s whispered affectionately against against your neck when his arms are wrapped around your waist at night, when it’s too dark to head home and you find yourself tangled under the sheets until daytime – those words that have confused you, that have left your brain a muddled mess, that offered you a glimpse into the gentleness that could be. tonight, there’s not a trace of kindness in his unyielding voice – nothing to confuse for kindness. his hands are rough, reckless. tossing you over, he faces you with a look that’s condescending and rotten. “get on your knees, and remind me why i keep you around in the first place.”

you’ll take it.

you’ll take it all –

– even if he’s hitting the back of your throat and gripping your hair so tightly that you can barely breathe, that tears are welling in your eyes, that you’re choking on him. you can hardly keep up with his pace, hands clawing at the floor in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. you’re a distraught mess, lips swollen from his shoving himself into you, saliva dribbling down your chin, an undignified whore. but you’ll take it. you’ll take it all, if that’s what it takes to keep him even for a moment more. you’ll squash the feeling that this is so, so wrong, the awareness that he’s fucking you like an object, the knowledge that you’re nothing but a piece of meat to him.

if that’s what it takes to keep him, even if just for a little longer –

– you’ll take it all.

but when he sees those tear-stained eyes of yours, he just can’t bring himself to do it anymore. he pulls out of your mouth completely, leaving you coughing uncontrollably and desperately gasping for breath. a wave of guilt washes over him, knowing that he put you in this condition in the first place. “come here,” he says harshly, trying to keep up his façade as his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips. he tosses you onto the bed, the spring mattress squeaking under your weight, then you feel his body against yours from behind as he covers your eyes with one large hand until you see nothing but black. “don’t tell me you still like this?” he asks in a serious tone. he’s so close to you that you can hear his soft pants against your neck, feel the heat radiating from his skin; he must still be worn out from before.

but you say nothing, nothing at all, your lips sealed in a tight line.

he scoffs at your silence, his grip on your body loosening. “use your words. aren’t you going to tell me to stop?”

you turn to look at him, and your gaze finally meets his once more. your eyes are clouded with tears, your cheeks flushed, your lips trembling. but your eyes are unwavering. that grotesque look that he just can’t stand – those big eyes, still full of devotion, unconditional resolve. eyes that are full of nothing but righteousness. he’s the source of your pain, and yet you look at him with nothing but kindness. you look at him as though he can offer you some sort of salvation —

but this man can’t even save you from himself.

“i’m… i’m not.” your voice is meek, a sob escaping you.

you find your body shaking frantically, suddenly hyper-aware of your nakedness and the fact that dazai’s practically completely clothed.

he takes a seat next to you on the bed and wraps a blanket around you, deep brown irises staring into your eyes dubiously, as though he can’t believe a word that you’re saying. then, reaching out to cradle your face gently in his hand, he strokes your cheek with his thumb. his tender caress makes you sick to your stomach and you feel bile rising in your throat – you wish he would go back to fucking you senselessly and calling you names, if only just to make this cruel fantasy go away.

“don’t touch me like that anymore!” you suddenly blurt out of spite, shoving dazai away angrily. “don’t you know how confusing you’re being right now?” you cover your face in your hands like a child just to keep him from seeing you break down, as if you could possibly hide your stifled cries and the tears streaming down your stained cheeks.

“i see,” he says in a quiet voice, hesitating as he retracts his hand. there’s a grimace on his face as he withholds his words, resisting the urge to say something, anything, to ease the pain. but he knows there’s nothing he could say to take back all that’s been done. a tension hangs in the air, disrupted only by the sound of your shaky breath as you heave into the palms of your hands, pressed firmly over your mouth to silence your heartbroken cries. bending over in pain, there’s an empty pit in your chest as you crawl into his lap like a kicked-down dog. dazai makes no movement to get up, just lets you fall against him and hums softly to comfort you, stroking the tendrils of your hair like a wandering ghost.

when your tears finally subside, leaving nothing but your shattered memories, you glance up at him only to find he’s been gazing at you the whole time. on his face, there was a pained expression. something like regret for the past, or maybe even the future.

he looked as though he had been crying, too.

(c) BSDAWGZ Don't steal or plaigarize cos that's mean... and if you enjoyed the fic, please share! Remember, likes don't share my work, reblogs do! ^^~ Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + three

authors note: wow! omg, thank you all so much for the kind words of support for this story! it really does mean a lot to me, cause i know the content is pretty heavy.

also, if anyone has read the acotar series, i imagine the dynamic between roman and the twins to be a bit similar to the bat boys. and yes, we'll def see more of the twins moving forward.

in addition, if you want to be tagged, you have to explicitly ask as such. the last thing i want to do is tag someone i thought wanted to be tagged and didn't, and they end up triggered. :(

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

cw/tw: language, violence against women, trauma responses (nightmares/night terrors), hints at suicidal thoughts, references to traumatic past

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

masterlist

words: 9k

Roman doesn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, and he’s out the house again before the sun is even up.

Solana knows all of this because she doesn’t sleep that night.

It’s not for lack of trying. She spends nearly two hours twisting and turning before finally accepting that sleep isn’t in the cards for her. She instead finds herself sitting on the floor of her bathroom, door locked, writing away in her journal. No letter to mom this time, just pure word vomit, all of her thoughts and feelings about everything that’s transpired. 

There’s as many tears as there are words, and like always post–writing, she feels a tad bit better. The best and only release she ever has is in her written word, all of the things she could never say aloud, melted from her head and sealed into paper.

When she’s done writing, Solana opts to read a book in her Kindle Library. Doing so makes her realize that she still doesn’t have her stuff from back home. It’s not that she has a lot, but the items she was told to pack just for the first few nights will only last just that—for a few days.

But, Solana doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask Roman about that. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to ask him for anything, not after she’s clearly and understandably upset him. She’ll just….she’ll just have to make do until it's noticed she's essentially living out of a suitcase. 

And Solana has a thought, an idea, that getting up early to fix him breakfast could be a good thing, something to tame his anger toward her. It’s the least that she can do.

But one look around Roman’s massive kitchen indicates he’s every bit the stereotypical bachelor. There’s only a couple of ingredients, not enough of anything to make an actual meal. There’s also a lot of “meal prep” meals, which makes sense. She can imagine he’s insanely strict with his diet and fitness. One can’t look like Roman Reigns without an intense amount of focus and dedication.

It makes her wonder just what kind of dietary restrictions and preferences she’ll have to learn about him to make meals that he can actually consume. Another question she needs to ask but doesn’t know how or when considering he already has very little to no interest in having anything to do with her.

It’s another thing she knows she’ll have to figure out but tries her best to focus on anything else besides the fact that she’s now married to a man who can’t stand her, the same man her family wants her to somehow assassinate.

Yes…..other things is a much better seat filler.

Solana briefly wonders how she’s going to get to work considering her car is still back at her dad’s house, but just when she’s considering calling an Uber, she’s met in the living room of Roman’s massive estate by none other than his right hand man and cousin.

Solo Sikoa 

All he says is, “ready?” And she realizes that this is how she’s to get to work, that he is to escort her. Him and another set of large men, guards as she realizes. A separate set of guards, not the ones who roam and patrol Roman’s mansion. 

Being around so many men….it’s a different kind of experience. Leaning more on the side of uncomfortable than anything. 

But, she’s at least a bit more at ease when Solo only opens the door to the back of the SUV and doesn’t join in, instead sitting in the passenger seat.

She's grateful for that.

Solo is almost the same exact person as his cousin. Large, strong, stoic and scary as hell. The only difference is that she’s not sure Solo is capable of sentences that include more than 1 to 3 words.

It’s obvious he’s not thrilled about being assigned as her personal guard, and she can’t blame him. There can’t be anything exciting about watching her boring life and making sure nothing happens to her during said boring life.

But Solana can’t deny there’s a small part of her that feels a small sense of comfort at having someone to look out for her. Even if she partially questions his loyalty to said job. Something happening to her wouldn’t do anything to anybody. At all. 

She’d just….cease to exist.

And lately….that hasn’t seemed like the worst thing ever. 

But, it’s when she arrives at work, goes into her office to start to prepare for the work day only to find her brother already waiting that that comfort is obliterated.

“Sis.” Wes' smile is tight and inauthentic, his eyes darting between her and Solo. “Sorry to scare you. I was just hoping we could talk.”

Talk….

Wes never wants to talk to her, not unless it’s him berating and screaming while he beats the shit out of her. 

“Alone.” He gives Solo a faux sympathetic expression. “Family things….you understand, I’m sure.”

Solana doesn’t know if Solo understands or he doesn’t, but she does know that Wes' kind and friendly tone is all smoke and mirrors. She knows he’s pissed that he didn’t catch her off-guard, didn’t catch her alone, that he couldn’t corner her like he always does.

And for a second, Solana believes she’s safe, knows that Solo won’t let Wes lay a hand on her. It’s….it’s his job to keep her safe, right?

But just as that hope is present, it’s extinguished by the reality she knows is inescapable. Solo won’t be with her 24/7. She won’t be protected forever. She’ll eventually be around both Wes and her father alone. And the price she’ll have to pay for denying him in this moment….

It’s not worth it. 

Roman’s words to her father about not touching her are nice in theory, but she knows better. Xavier Miller does what he wants, regardless of what’s said and by who.

“O–of course,” Solana mumbles, fingers dancing at the side of her pants. She turns to Solo. “Please….give us a few minutes.”

For the first time since she’s met him, Solo actually shows some type of emotion. It still stems from anger, maybe a branch of irritation, but it's still something different. “Tribal Chief said I’m supposed to watch you, so that’s what I do.”

She swallows. This is going to require a level of assertiveness that’s almost foreign if not non-existent. “I–I understand, but….Wes is my brother. He—” It’s almost impossible for her to even get the words out. “He would never hurt me.”

Solana almost immediately wants to vomit. That’s all this man has ever done. 

At least since the murder of their mother. 

Solo is struggling but wavering, she can see as much, so she continues. “It’s okay,” she assures, even mustering up a small smile. “Please….just a couple minutes. I won’t—I won’t say anything to Roman.”

Solo still looks torn but eventually agrees, leaving her alone with one of two men who hate her most on this earth. 

The door is barely closed when Wes has her pinned against the wall, hand slapped over her mouth, a knife pressed to the base of her throat.

“You stupid bitch, don’t think for one second that being married to Reigns changes shit,” he snarls. “He doesn’t give a fuck about you. He just doesn’t like people messing with his possessions.”

Solana knows all of this, knows that anything Roman may do that seems to be for her benefit is just him asserting his dominance. She doesn’t need to be reminded of this. 

“Wes, you’re hurting me.” She suddenly feels so stupid saying that, telling him what he already knows. Of course, he is. That’s the whole point. Still, she stupidly believes she can plead to whatever humanity is left in him. If any. “P–please.”

“Shut up,” he hisses, shoving her head against the wall. Solana winces quietly, mindful of Solo who stands outside the door because of her. Because she told him to, because she welcomed this violence onto herself.

“Reigns told dad you won’t be available for a couple weeks, so I suggest you start doing what you need to do to change that. We need to be able to communicate with you.”

This startles her. Why would Roman say that? Did Roman say that? Wes is a master manipulator, and she doesn’t put it past him to be playing mind games.

“I—I don’t know what you want me to do.” And it’s true. Solana has no idea what to do in any of this, how she’s supposed to kill a man who’s more or less impossible to kill, how she’s supposed to win his favor when it’s obvious she already annoys him. It’s all so confusing and overwhelming.

“Did you fuck him last night?”

It’s a question she hoped no one would ask, didn’t believe would be asked because there’s no one who would care enough except for Roman himself.

And while Solana knows being dishonest with her brother won’t turn out well, in this moment, she doesn’t know how he’ll respond if she tells the truth.

So, she lies. She lies to live to see another day, for what reason, she doesn't know. It’s not as if any other day will provide her some sense of solace or security. But, it’s just what she does. 

“Y–yes.”

Wes looks understandably pleased. “Good.” She gaps in fear when he drags his knife against her skin, gently trailing it across, just light enough to avoid drawing blood. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for us for anyway.”

A frown falls upon her face. What….what does that mean?

“Just keep contact open, you understand?” No, she doesn’t, but she has no choice but to pretend that she does. Nodding, Wes shoves her into the wall one more time at an angle that causes her shoulder to take the impact. Wincing, she holds onto it as he releases her and walks out the door. “Don’t fuck this up, Solana.”

Easier said than done. Much easier said than done. 

It’s when he leaves her alone that the tears pool in her eyes. But, it’s when Solo walks in, studying her that she sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “I–I’m fine.”

She’s not.

She’s far from fine. 

————

The day ends up slightly, maybe even moderately, improving. It’s to be slightly expected though as it’s Monday, the day that Solana runs her reading club with the younger kids. It’s always a highlight to see their bright, smiling faces, answering all of their fifty million questions.

It’s a break from a very bleak reality that is her life, immersing herself in their world of pretend and minimal worries.

Sometimes, she finds herself a bit jealous. Jealous that they still have their innocence, that their view of the world hasn’t been painted in red and blood like hers.

But, it’s when Solana is in the back taking her break, journaling, that that improvement takes a deep dive. Because a single knock on the door is followed by the large intimidating frame of her husband entering her space. 

Naturally, her stomach knots. She hasn’t seen Roman since last night, since he helped and scolded her in the same brief timespan. She understands it though and doesn't entirely disagree with what he said.

She’s far from the perfect picture of mental stability. 

Swallowing, Solana stands up and opens her mouth to address him when his eyes go from her face to her wrist. Following his line of vision, she sees why. There’s a blueish/greenish obvious bruise starting to form, beyond that initial point of formation really. It's just a straight up, fully developed bruise.

Roman slowly walks over to her and reaches for her arm. Solana naturally tenses. He hesitates for a second but still takes her wrist, lifting it so that it's at her eye level but still close enough for him to assess. 

She closes her eyes and acts quickly to think of an excuse. “I—umm—”

“Who?”

His voice is quieter than she anticipated and as much as she wishes she doesn't know what he means, Solana knows exactly what he’s asking. She just doesn’t answer. 

“I’m only going to ask you this one time and one time only.” His brown eyes are burning into her as he perfectly enunciates each word. “Who fucking touched you?”

Solana winces at his tone but eventually answers. “Wes....”

Roman drops her hand, and Solana brings her arms to her chest, head dropped. 

He’s pissed. 

That seems to be the only emotion he experiences around her, because of her.

His nostrils are flared as he demands. “Where was Solo?” 

Making him wait for a response is clearly something that sets him off even more, so Solana does her best to answer in a timely manner. “I—I asked him to leave. Wes….Wes didn’t want him in the room.”

“Of course, he fucking didn’t. Why would you—” Roman pinches his nose. A day. It’s been less than 48 hours, only a day in, and this marriage shit already has him fucking stressed out. Being married to this damn girl is like having a fucking child to look after. “From now on, I don’t give a fuck what your idiot brother and poor excuse of a father tell you, you’re not to be alone with them.” Roman’s command is a lot easier said than done. Denying her father or brother has never done her any favors. Solana isn’t sure how to verbalize this to the man in front of her who’s already six different shades of annoyed. “I thought I made that clear to them at the wedding, but obviously, they need a reminder.”

Solana feels every bit the scolded child, murmuring a quiet, “I’m sorry…”

Roman looks at her, and for a slither of a second, maybe even less than that, he feels bad for her. Feels bad because it’s clearly not her fault that she’s so fucked up. With a dad and brother like Xavier and Wes, what chance did she have?

He then briefly wonders about her mother, wonders what the dynamic was like there. But that’s a short lived trail because his mind then goes to his own mother. 

And Roman can’t have that, can’t go down that road for a variety of reasons, reasons that may not be that different from Solana’s. 

“Send me your work schedule.” Redirection is always a good strategy. That and fucking. Obviously, only one is an option for the woman in front of him. 

Panic builds in Solana’s stomach. Why does he want that? Her mind starts to race, arriving at only negative conclusions. Does he want her to quit? That thought kills her. 

Working at the library is the highlight, the only highlight, of her days. She doesn’t know what she would do without that outlet. 

“It won’t get in the way of my duties to you.” Solana typically isn’t the one to advocate for herself. Ever. But this….she can’t lose this, and it scares her to think of what mental decline could happen if she does. Nothing good. That’s for certain. “I—I can get up early and–and make your breakfast and meal prep lunch. A–and I’ll make sure your dinner is ready too by the time you come home—”

Rubbing his temple, exasperated, Roman asks, “what are you talking about?”

She’s not above begging. In a pleading tone, she begs, “please don’t make me quit my job.”

Roman isn’t quite sure what to make of the fact that the most words he’s heard leave Solana’s mouth are practically her begging to keep her job. He can understand it though. He would bet that her only time away from her family was when she was at work. “You can work as little or as much as you want. I don’t care about that.”

His words create instant relief. “Oh–I’m sorry, I thought—”

Roman runs his hand over his face. “You don’t have to apologize for everything.”

“Sor—” Solana drops her head as he exhales. Loudly. It’s not even noon, and he’s already over and done with this damn day.

“What time do you get off today?”

Solana licks her lips, answering. “Three.”

“I’ll meet you then.”

He can see she wants to ask but has decided against it, most likely recognizing his irritation. “We need to get your stuff from that house.” 

And in the midst of her anxiety in this conversation, she finds a glimmer of hope. She’s thankful that this isn’t something she had to initiate to ask him about.  

Something tells her Roman doesn’t like being questioned a lot.

Or at all.

“O–okay.” Is the answer she finally settles on, not wanting to say too much, vowing, “I’ll make sure I’m done by 3pm sharp.”

On one hand, Roman enjoys and respects punctuality, but something tells him Solana’s is based more on fear than anything. “Whenever is fine.”

Nodding and pushing her hair behind her ear, Solana watches Roman walk over to the door, preparing to leave when he asks, “is your brother right handed or left handed?”

His question takes her off guard, and she doesn’t quite know why he’s asking this in the first place. “W-what?”

Roman clearly doesn’t like repeating himself, because his tone takes on an edge. “Is he right handed or left handed?”

Solana swallows. She’s made him mad. Again. “R–right.”

Without another question, he leaves. And once the door shuts, he snaps at Solo, demanding, “why the fuck did you leave her alone with him? I told you to watch her!”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that Solo is doing a brilliant job masking his embarrassment at his failure. “She said—”

“I don’t care what she says. You don’t answer to her. You answer to me. Understood?”

Solo keeps his head high, acknowledging, “yes, my Tribal Chief.” Roman wastes no time in exiting the library and entering the SUV waiting for him, slamming the door shut. He pulls out his phone, selecting one of his most recent contacts, hitting dial. 

Jey answers on the third ring, but he’s immediately yelling to someone else, “slam my door one more fucking time, Nicki, and see what happens!” Roman’s jaw clenches, another new source of irritation being presented to him. “Ayo, Uce, now’s not a good time—”

“I don’t care.” Roman’s hot headed cousin and his equally hot headed wife arguing is nothing special. The fight. They fuck. They make up. And do it all over again. It’s not pressing news or even news at all at this point. “The Miller boy. Send him a message. A clear message.”

“I’ve got—”

“Did you hear what I just said?” There must be something in the air or the water, because Roman having to repeat himself is fucking asinine. He speaks once, and everyone should jump immediately. The fact that that isn’t happening is only pissing him off more. “And his right hand…make sure it’s broken.”

Jey sighs on the other end of the phone. “Aight. Me and Jimmy will have it done by the end of the day.”

Roman ends the phone call before his cousin can feed him any more excuses. Head tilted back against the headrest, he tries to settle himself. This day so far has been nothing but inconvenience after inconvenience. 

There’s nothing that pisses him off more than having to repeat himself, having conversations extend longer than they should, and that’s all this day has been thus far. He’s had to over explain and reiterate himself more than Roman feels necessary. 

And the day isn’t even halfway over. 

He needs an outlet.

Roman switches apps, finding one of his more recent contacts and sending out a message. 

Roman: Come over tonight. 

As expected, her reply comes almost right away. 

Samantha: Lol. That didn’t take long.

Samantha: See you then.

————

Solana always struggles with a level of anxiety when entering the home she grew up in. For a myriad of reasons. Most, if not all, being completely valid. Nothing good has ever happened for her in that place. And more often than not, she’d barely be in the house for more than a couple of minutes before she was either being berated or beaten.

Usually both.

But this…..this is different. A lot different, because she’s not walking into hell alone, she’s walking along (behind) Bloodline guards and the 6’3, pure muscled leader of said Bloodline. 

Roman Reigns.

Who also happens to be her husband.

Playing around with the wedding ring on her finger, Solana tries again to remind herself that this is real, that she’s married, that she’s married to Roman Reigns of all people. 

The reality definitely hasn’t set in.

Roman is about to knock on the door again when it swings open. Solana naturally steps back, something Roman takes notice of.

Xavier looks pissed, his fiery gaze landing on her first, but just as quickly as it was present, it's gone, settling into an almost pleasant smile. Directed at Roman, of course.

“Tribal Chief,” he greets. Solana’s gaze is on the ground now, focused on her painted toes instead of the man before her who she’s certain would be unleashing hell on her if not for the multitude of much larger, much stronger men surrounding her. “I wasn’t expecting—”

“I don’t care,” Roman interrupts, voice reeking of indifference. “She needs to go get her stuff.”

“Oh.” Solana can only imagine the difficulty her father is having in not throwing a fit. “Well, we can arrange for it to be delivered—”

“No.”

She means more to think it than to say it, but that intention falls short, because she definitely says it aloud.

And most of her regrets it, but there’s a small slither that doesn’t.

Solana knows her father. She knows him very well. 

Roman has done nothing but piss him off from the very beginning of this whole ordeal, pushing and pushing him. And Solana has always been the object of her father’s anger, but Roman seems intent on making sure that doesn’t happen. 

That means he’ll have to get creative with his punishments.

If he can’t hurt her, he’ll go after the things she loves. 

The few items in that home that she holds near and dear, items that belonged to her mother.

She knows he would dispose of them all so that all that would be retrieved by the movers would be clothes.

And the thought of the only things she has of her mother being discarded like trash makes her sick to her stomach.

She can’t give him that opportunity. 

Looking up, she’s met with two sets of eyes on her. One indicating irritation and the other, curiosity. Swallowing, she stutters, “I’m sorry. I—”

“No.” Roman’s interruption is stark and to the point. “We’re already here. She gets it now.”

“But—”

“Move.”

Xavier’s jaw ticks, but he does as such, stepping to the side. Roman looks back at Solana, motioning for her to walk in. 

Instantly, she’s going to the key holder. She has to make sure she gets her mother’s stuff before anything. But, the key to the attic, the key that’s sat in the same spot since she was a girl, is suddenly missing.

Her stomach drops. 

Without hesitation, she turns to her dad, asking, “wh—where’s the key to the attic?”

Solana knows before he even says anything that she’s not going to like his answer. She just doesn't realize just how much she’s not going to like his answer.

“Oh, I put it in your old room on the dresser.” Solana’s chest is immediately tight, her stomach dropping. Xavier gives that sly smile and little shrug. “Figured there’d be some things you’d want to grab as well.”

It’s hard for Solana to not start crying right then and there, standing between her father and her husband. Two men who dislike her for very different reasons. 

And maybe dislike isn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling her father has toward her. Because one has to have an inhuman level of vitriol toward another individual to put her in the situation he just did.

That room….Solana hasn’t been in that room in years and planned to never enter it again for as long as she lived. And he knows that. Knows that there’s nothing in there she wants. Knows that she’d rather walk on burning coal barefoot than enter that space of horrific memories and unspeakable horrors. 

“I–I—”

“Is something wrong?”

Roman, watching this whole exchange closely, is instantly annoyed. It’s obvious something is wrong, there’s some story with this old room of hers, because she looks just as terrified as she did last night. And something about this pisses him off all over again, because this man is still trying to defy his orders, still trying to find ways to inflict his torture without lifting a finger. 

“Where’s the room?” 

Solana doesn't expect that question to leave Roman’s mouth, but it instantly brings on another layer of dread. He doesn’t know why she can’t go in that room, and he can never know, but that not knowing is probably going to result in him pushing her to hurry up so they can get the hell out of here.

But, that doesn’t happen. He steps towards her dad and repeats in a calm voice. “Show me.” It’s then she realizes that he’s asking so he can retrieve this key for her.

And that confuses the mess out of her because why? He doesn't have to, doesn’t need to. It doesn’t benefit him in the slightest. 

So why?

But for Roman, it’s simple. He’ll take any opportunity presented to piss off this son of a bitch, and undermining every attempt Miller takes to mess with Solana presents an opportunity for Roman to assert his dominance. 

And it’s obvious by the pure terror that crosses Solana’s face that, for whatever reason, she has zero desire or even ability to enter this room. It does cross him a bit strange that she would have such a reaction to her childhood bedroom, something that typically holds special memories for people.

Until he enters said room. 

Immediately, there’s a darkness about the aura, something heavy and unsettling that he can’t necessarily describe but most definitely feels. It’s a stark contrast to the design and decoration, lots of pink and girly shit, a couple of stuffed animals sitting on the top of the dresser. It’s on the dresser he notices a shattered picture frame that in picking up he sees a photo of a young woman, dark curly hair, beautiful, light eyes and a breathtaking smile. There’s something about her that reminds him of Solana. Her mother. This has to be her mother.

For reasons Roman doesn’t quite understand, there’s something suddenly uncomfortable by looking at this photo, a ghost, someone from the past. A person cruelly and violently ripped away from her family.

It….it hits too close to him.

Laying the broken photo frame down, Roman continues to assess the room and suddenly notices scratches on the door and the wall that holds the door. But, they’re not scratches that come from furniture being moved or kids being rough, they’re clearly nail marks. As if someone was dragged and the scratches a testament of their fight against whatever attack they were facing.

Snatching the key off the dresser, he then redirects his attention to the poorly cleaned splashes of dried blood on the carpet near the bed. He’s suddenly frowning of sorts. 

There’s a story here. A story that paints a dark, grim picture. One that makes Roman slightly curious about just what the hell this girl has really been through in this hellhole?

Not wanting to stay in that creepy ass room any longer than necessary, he walks back out into the living room and ignores Miller’s obvious irritation to reach Solana the key.

Accepting it, she offers the first smile he’s probably seen on her since their first meeting. “Thank you.” Her voice is the usual mixture of soft and quiet but also….grateful. She’s probably the only person in history to ever be so happy at being given something as simple as a key. But Roman isn’t stupid. He recognizes the deeper meaning. 

Nodding, he motions for a few of his men to follow her as she heads for wherever the attic door is located. 

That leaves Roman alone with his least favorite person in the world.

“She can’t take everything, you know.” Xavier shares. He reminds, “she has a brother. My son and I deserve to have something of my late wife to—”

“I don’t care.” And he doesn’t. He honestly, truly doesn’t. “She can take whatever she wants.”

“I understand that she’s your wife, but she was my daughter long before she became your wife. And you’re standing in my house.” Xavier doesn’t skip a beat to contend. “I think you should also remember that, Tribal Chief.”

To be fair, Roman would like to think he’s done a half decent job all day managing his temper. He’s yet to maim or kill anyone which is commendable for him, in and of itself. But something about Xavier pisses him the fuck off to the point where he doesn’t give a damn about controlling his temper. 

And that’s exactly what happens. 

In a matter of seconds, Roman has Xavier by the throat, pinned against the wall, squeezing so tightly he can practically feel the man's bones pressing against his fingertips. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Xavier’s eyes are nearly bugging out of his head as he helplessly grasps at Roman's grip, which only makes the Tribal Chief squeeze harder. “Don’t ever fucking forget who runs this. I run it all!” As much as Roman enjoys playing the long game with this bastard, there’s only so much he can put up with. Miller needs to know Roman is not his daughter, but he damn sure will dictate that any interactions with said daughter go through him. “You see Solana when I say you can see her. You talk to her when I say you can talk to her.” Intensifying his grip, Roman notices the color draining from Xavier’s face. And it’s probably the best thing he’s seen all day. “You live because I allow it. You’re still fucking breathing because I will it.” Recognizing Miller is at the door of unconsciousness, he finally lets the man go, enjoying the sight of him coughing violently, nearly laying on the floor. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that shit.”

Xavier, wisely, doesn't say much after that. And neither does Roman, who simply makes sure his men help Solana gather all she needs, which isn’t that much outside of clothes. He starts to ask her about her car, but something tells him it’s under Xavier’s name, which is why he decides against it.

He’ll just get her another one. 

Roman doesn’t want her to have shit to do with this family, largely because he doesn’t want shit to do with this family.

And he knows what the first step toward initiating that separation will be.

—--------

The Warehouse has always been Roman’s escape.

17,000 square feet of escape, completely revamped and redone by him in his early twenties. It’s a massive compound that serves as both a place to train and compete. The former of which being why he’s present and needing to speak to the one person who he has in charge of all the day to day workings of the Warehouse. 

But, that’s all she’s interested in outside of competing herself and only training those with some fire to them.

It’s why he’s not surprised when Nia takes one look at him, then Solana, and with a snort and roll of her eyes, simply says, “no.”

Roman isn’t an idiot. He knew his cousin would immediately decline, would know what he wanted to ask before it could even leave his mouth.

If only he cared about her objection. 

“Wait here,” he mutters to Solana who only nods, hugging the jacket around her body. Solo remains nearly inches away from her. She looks so out of place, a small part of him can’t blame Nia for declining.

Nia continues to walk the balcony, eyes clearly checking in on the various sets of people training. Roman does as well, just not nearly with the same amount of focus and attention. That’s what he has Nia for.

His blood cousin and close friend since they were kids, there’s few people in this world that Roman trusts, and Nia is grouped in that category. She’s a worthy member of the bloodline and a hell of a person to have alongside you in a fight. 

It’s why she's the perfect person for this task.

“Nia.”

“I said no, Roman.” She turns to him, smirking, taunting him in a way only she and his close family can. "You know, that word that you hate?”

It actually makes him chuckle, a speckle of amusement in a day full of anything but. “If you know I hate it, why are you saying it?”

“Because unlike the rest of the world, I’m not your bitch.”

It’s partially true. Nia has never been one to shy away from being completely and, often, ruthlessly honest with her cousin. It’s something Roman sometimes appreciates, enjoying the occasional challenge and differing perspective.

This isn’t one of those times though. 

He again reiterates. “She needs to be trained.” 

It’s abundantly clear that Solana has no backbone, and he can’t entirely fault her for that because it’s also clear that she’s never really had the chance to develop one. But, that’s no longer the case, because while he can deal with the stammering and quietness, her fragility has to go. 

She has to learn to stand up for herself.

She needs to learn how to fight back.

Nia turns around with a sarcastic chuckle. “You really think that girl can be trained? I saw her at the wedding. She looked terrified the entire time. You breathe too hard in her direction, and she’ll probably have a fucking panic attack.” Roman is briefly taken back to last night. Nia hasn’t the slightest clue how true her words are. “She’s not built for this life.”

Roman doesn’t entirely disagree. If there was ever a person who’d do well and significantly better in something cookie cutter, white picket fence type shit, it’s Solana. But she’s here now, this is her life, so they need to make the best of it. She needs to learn how to survive in this life. and he expresses as such. “Regardless, she needs to learn to defend herself to some extent.”

Nia shrugs, leaning back against the railing and crossing her arms. “So teach her.”

“I don’t have the time. Or the patience.” It’s almost entirely true. There are already so many hats that Roman has to wear. Adding on another one that includes teaching a traumatized young woman how to fight is not an option. Even more, something tells him that Solana would do better training with a woman. She seems most skittish around men.

Nia scoffs, pointing to herself. “And you think I do?”

“Nia….” As much as he enjoys sparring with his cousin from time to time, his patience has grown thin. His tone darkens. “I’m not asking you.”

While tempted to continue to push back, Nia isn’t a stupid woman. She can recognize when Roman is about to lose his cool. “Fucking hell….” With a heavy sigh and shrug of defeat, she accepts. “Fine. I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to like her.”

“I never expect you to like anyone.” He chuckles, adding. “And Nia…..take it easy on her at first.”

Nia curses, instantly accusing, “You think coddling her will help?”

“I know being too rough with her won’t.”

A hard exterior is built from experience and tolerance. Roman fully believes that. However, something tells him his new wife has had enough experiences that anything more could push her closer to breaking point. So approaching it almost gingerly would probably wield the best outcome. 

Nia is, justifiably, vexed. “Whatever. I don’t have time for your weak ass wife. I’ll have Naomi teach her the basics, and once she learns how to actually throw a punch without crying, I’ll take over her training.” 

Roman has no issue with this. Solana seemed to be fine around Naomi at the wedding, so it might actually be a good match. “Fine. Just keep me updated with her progress.” Roman adds, starting to walk away.

“Do I have a choice?”

Instantly, he answers. “Nope.”

Nia’s laughter behind him brings a small smile to his face. 

Rejoining the group, he finds Solana looking just as nervous as he left her. “Let’s go.”

He turns and so does Solo, Roman deciding he’ll talk with Solana about starting training back at the house. But, her small voice calling his name, the first time he’s heard her say as such draws his attention.

Turning around, he asks, “yeah?”

She swallows and starts that damn stammering. It’s hard for him to not snap at her to just get it out. He hates that beating around the bush bullshit. “Umm, can we—uhh, stop somewhere?” Roman does his best to hide his irritation. Where the fuck does she need to go? “I just—-I noticed you don’t have a lot of ingredients at the house, and—and I need some things so I can cook.”

Initially, Roman’s first reaction is to tell her no, that she doesn’t need to cook. He doesn’t need her to cook for him. He does just fine on his own, but that’s the thing that makes him pause. He’s not on his own anymore. She needs to eat too.

So, he agrees, “fine.”

“Ayo, uce!”

Jesus Christ.

Roman needs a vacation. A week long vacation, because the way the past 24hrs has drained him more than anything he’s experienced in the past year is criminal.

The twins jog over, exchanging what is an undeniably awkward acknowledgement to Solana. And he doesn't blame them. She’s so damn docile that they probably don't know how to interact with her.

“Let us catch that ride with you.”

Roman shuts his eyes. “Why?”

Jimmy is the one to answer. “You wanted us to debrief you on that thing from earlier, remember?”

Roman realizes they’re referring to the message he had them send Solana’s brother, which he does want to hear about but not necessarily now.

“She needs to stop at the store before we head back to the house,” Roman informs, hoping the twins will just take a car back to the house to meet him their to debrief.

But that’s too much like right, because they end up in the same SUV as him and Solana, seated in the back, while he sits in the middle with her. And it’s not missed upon him how she’s practically tucked in the corner of the SUV, notebook out as she writes away while his idiotic cousins go on and on in the back about whatever.

The old lady from the library wasn’t kidding. This damn girl is always writing. 

When they arrive at the grocery store, Roman reaches for his wallet, sliding out his black card and handing it to her. “Here. Use this.” 

Roman hadn’t thought about this until just now, thought about the need to make his money available to her. He makes a mental note to have his accountant add Solana to all of his accounts and have cards mailed out with her name. In the meantime, she’ll have to deal with using his.

“Thank you.” She accepts the card, quickly asking, “what’s my limit?”

“What limit?”

Her cheeks redden as she explains. “Like….like how much I can spend?"

“There is none,” he answers with a shrug. “Just get what you need.”

Jey suddenly leans forward, tapping Roman on the shoulder. “Ayo, Big Dog, lemme run this by you.”

“No.”

Of course, the word goes in one ear and out the other. “So, I’m trying to explain to her that it’s not what she thinks. I don’t even care about that bitch, but she’s not trying to hear me. Going on and go about how I ain’t shit, I don’t treat her right—you know, the usual—-and so finally, I just snap on her ass cause who the fuck you think you talking to—”

Jimmy agrees. “She acting like you ain’t got no options.”

Jey sucks his teeth, “man, that’s what I’m saying. Like, I ain’t gotta put up with that shit!”

“Hell naw!”

The idea of grocery shopping doesn’t appeal to Roman in the slightest, but neither does listening to his dumbass cousin complain about his marriage problems to his equally dumbass brother. So, it’s the lesser of two evils, really. 

“Fuck it,” he mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt, and opening the door. Solo and Solana’s eyes fall on him as they’d yet to enter the store. “I’ll go with her.”

Solana looks expectedly surprised as Solo simply nods and gets back in the passenger seat.

“I’ll make it quick.”

Roman says nothing, walking alongside her, still providing enough distance to not make her uncomfortable. 

As long as the twins are harping on and on about stupid shit, she can take as long as she wants.

Once in the store, Solana pushing the cart, Roman realizes she was writing down a grocery list that she uses to track the needed items as they peruse what feels like endless aisles. Granted, he hasn’t been inside an actual grocery store in probably close to two decades, if not longer, so maybe this is normal for a grocery store. 

It’s when they reach the produce section that she seems a bit stumped, chewing on her bottom lip, clearly perplexed.

He starts to ask her what’s wrong, but she walks over to one of the workers and takes him slightly by surprise when she starts speaking in a different language. Spanish, he eventually settles on. It’s also the first time he thinks he’s ever seen her smile. Outside of when he gave her the key And laugh. That one is definitely a first. Both small and quiet, but still, a first. She seems to know or at least be familiar with the worker who digs around the produce and reaches over a packaged bag of whatever produce it is. 

It’s when she returns to place the produce in the basket, continuing to walk, that he asks, “you speak Spanish?”

She looks up at him, but not for too long, as if doing so is forbidden, explaining. “My—my mom taught me. She was originally from Mexico.”

Roman figured as such from the picture he saw in her room that Solana’s mom was Hispanic or had some type of Central American ancestry. He’s also surprised by her answering with more than just 3 to 5 words, providing more information than he asked. 

It’s not something he necessarily cares about, but it doesn’t annoy him like it typically does when people give him a longer answer than what’s necessary. 

“Are—are your cousins always like….like that?” Again, she takes him by surprise, up until the point where she immediately goes into apologizing. “I–I don’t mean it in a bad way. I would never—”

“Yes,” he cuts off her rambling. It’s unnecessary because the answer is simple. “They are.” With a mutter, he adds, “they never shut the fuck up.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. That smile smile, this time conjoined with a small laugh that she does a decent job trying to suppress. And it’s like she catches herself, changing the subject as she asks, “umm, are you—like—allergic to anything? Or is there something you don’t like? I can learn—”

“I can eat anything.” It’s a simple, truthful answer. It also seems like something she’d been wanting to ask but only built the courage to do so at the end of their current conversation, even if brief as hell.

Solana doesn’t say much after that, and it confuses Roman when she tries to grab items on shelves much higher than what exceeds her reach. It confuses him because it would be significantly easier for her to just ask him to reach it. Granted, something tells him just her asking to be taken to the grocery store seems to be her daily quota for requests.

So he takes it upon himself, hand on the small of her back, ignoring how she tenses at his touch, to tell her to step aside as he easily retrieves the item. With a tuck of her hair behind her ear and a small “thank you,” she continue shopping but this time actually, still with that same irksome gentleness, asks him to reach items that she cannot. It’s not a lot, just a couple.

And it’s not long before she’s done, checking out with his card that she makes sure to give back to him immediately. He gets the sense that that’s something she thinks is important to him.

It’s not.

The worst he can see her doing is going crazy at fucking Barnes and Nobles.

Roman has his men load the trunk for her, something that also seems to take her off guard. Like she’s not used to the assistance.

And she probably isn’t. 

————

Samantha Irvin has been on Roman’s revolving roster of women since he was in his teens. The longevity being that It’s always been the easiest with her. Sexually, at least. Their compatibility in that one area, the only one he really (only) cares about, is astronomical. But lately, more in the past few months than anything, she’s dropped a comment here and there about wanting more. 

He’s ignored them everytime. 

Roman has never promised Samantha anything more than what they currently are: fuck buddies. She knows this, just like she knows she’s not the only woman he’s fucking. Nothing about that should indicate him wanting more with anyone, including her.

Well, other than the wedding band now on his finger.

Samantha’s gaze falls on that wedding band, a bitter chuckle leaving her mouth. “I still can’t believe you actually did it.”

“Yeah,” he mutters. Discussing his shitshow of a marriage is the last thing he wants to do and far from the reason he left Solana in the middle of the night to come see her, to come work off his frustrations.

The same reason he invited her over tonight. 

Last night was a dumpster fuck, without a doubt. But today with Solana was….decent. Not amazing. Not awful. Just some strange space in between. Even as they arrived back at the estate and she went straight into cooking, creating something he can’t pronounce but can honestly say was delicious, a meal she delivered to him in his office. There was something manageable about that, this level of she does her thing, he does his, and if their paths cross in the process, he can deal with that.

The intimacy though….that’s something he’ll have to figure out, have to navigate, just not now. Not tonight. 

Right now, he just needs Samantha’s talented mouth on him.

She moves her hands up his chest, biting on her bottom lip. “She’s just a little girl, baby. You need a woman who knows how to please you.” Roman knows the other side of what she’s saying or rather what she’s not saying. Another subtle, or not so subtle depending on how you look at it, hint that she’s the one he should settle down with.

In all honesty, he has, or had, zero desire to settle down with anyone.

Especially not with Sam. She’s the kind of woman that’s good for fucking and nothing else. As much as Solana’s extreme passivity annoys the shit out of him, he’d pick that over the bitching Sam would do. He just knows she’d be on his ass about stupid shit like fucking other woman and not paying her enough attention. Like she’d think she’s somehow above him doing who and what the fuck he wants just cause he put a ring on her finger.

Way too needy.

But at least he can actually fucking touch Sam.

Kinda hard to make a baby with someone who has literal fucking panic attacks just from being touched.

It builds up his frustration again, hence Roman grabbing Samantha by the back of her head, forcing it back. She hisses, both from pain and pleasure. It’s another thing he does actually enjoy about her. She lets him be as rough as he wants and needs.

“Why are you still talking?” There may be a slight dim in her eyes at his question, but she hides it well. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.” He releases his grip and shoves her to her knees. “Put that mouth to actual good use.”

If she’s hurt by his brusque tone, she doesn’t show it, simply bringing her hands to unbuckle his pants. “I got you, daddy…” 

She gets his zipper down when a scream sounds throughout the house, causing her to freeze in her motions as she shoots Roman a confused look.

“What the hell?” Samantha’s obvious irritation is the last thing he hears before adjusting himself as he heads out the room and down the hall.

For some reason, Roman already knows what to expect before he even reaches Solana’s room. Opting against knocking, he opens the door and finds her twisting and turning in the bed, eyes shut, chest moving up and down, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Yeah….just as he expected. 

Sighing, he walks over to the bed, sitting on the side. “Solana.”

“No.....” she’s crying in her sleep, clearly in the midst of a nightmare. Or night terror. “Mom, please…don’t leave me.”

Roman tenses. Immediately, he knows exactly what her nightmare is. He brings hands to her shoulder, shaking her. “Solana, wake up.”

“No…..”

He says her name again, a bit louder, firmer, “Solana, wake up.”

“No!” She screams again, shooting up from the bed, immediately fighting and pushing against his body. “Leave me alone!” She’s crying, clearly fighting against the demons one faces once in life but forever battles, even when they’re gone. 

It’s a permanent scar on the soul.

“Solana,” he says again, still stern, but somehow gentle. “You’re fine. You’re safe.” It’s the ‘safe’ word that seems to trigger something for her, mouth still ajar, painting heavily but no longer struggling against him. “It was just a bad dream.”

There’s a fleeting thought he has about pushing some of the flyaway hairs out of her face, but it’s gone before he can really process let alone act on said thought.

Solana looks at his hands on her forearm and immediately tugs them back to her body, hugging herself. She drops her head, eyes closing, “I’m—I’m sorry.”

His eyes take her in, studying her, “it’s fine.”

“I—I need some air.” She kicks the blankets off her body and swings her legs over the bed, hurriedly grabbing a notebook off the dresser and rushing out of the room past a smirking Samantha.

Roman shuts his eyes and runs his hand over his face, ignoring the strange array of emotions, or something like that, he’s experiencing.

He hasn’t been this exposed to this kind of behavior in years.

This may be more complicated than he realized. 

And it’s as he stands up from the bed, walking near the door that Samantha smirks. “Did she seriously say mom?”  His eyes snap to her as she runs her hands up and down his chest. “What a fucking child.”

Her words take him back, reframe things so that it’s not Solana the child crying for her mother not to be taken from her. It’s a young boy. Burned, bloody, and beat, fading in and out consciousness, the gaze of fiery flames in his peripheral vision, the smell of burning flesh invading his nostrils, the sound of wails and sirens all mingling together from the shock of it all. 

Roman catches himself, forcing those buried memories back where they belong in the very back of his mind. He then looks at Sam for a good five seconds before demanding, “get the fuck out.”

She pauses and then asks with an uncomfortable laugh, “what?”

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he repeats, shoving her hands off him. 

“What did I sa—”

“Get out!” Roman snaps, volume and tone making her jump. He probably scared her. He also doesn’t care. He just wants her gone. And she does as such, walking away without another word of protest. 

Left alone, he tries to gather himself, moving back to his room.

So much for a fucking distraction.

 —----- 

Roman finds her out back on the patio. 

He needed to clear his head, get back into his tunnel vision focus, and the gym he had included when he built the house is the perfect place to do that. Two hours later, recentered and showered, he readies to call it a night. But, he realizes he probably shouldn’t do as such until he makes sure Solana is at least partially stable enough to be left alone. 

And she is. 

She’s laid out, sleeping on the rattan lounge chair, a closed notebook tucked into her side. Roman recognizes it as the same one she was writing in that day at the library as well as the one she used for her grocery list just earlier in the day. 

He settles down on the chair next to her, studying her. Even in her sleep, she looks….sad. And for the first time in the midst of all these strange experiences with her, Roman understands. He understands her sadness, understands her difficulty, understands the memories that clearly haunt her.

The same way they used to haunt him. 

His hand goes to his tatted arm, intricate tribal tattoo hiding permanent remnants of that night of hell. The night that he once had the same kind of night terrors about. 

Noticing the breeze, he walks back into the house, grabbing one of the throw blankets on the sofa. Roman is careful to not directly touch her as he lays it over her body. A part of him is tempted to carry her back to her room, but he remembers these kinds of nights. The kind where it’s a challenge to escape the memories, let alone find a place and mental space to turn your brain off enough to just sleep.

So he leaves her alone, allowing her to enjoy the only escape she clearly has in this life.

[ladytauria]

and lets do a "Tim got turned into a cat" au

your pick who picks him up and takes care of him

didn’t expect this to be the one i finished first but i’m not complaining. anyway you get a small snippet plus uh. more than 5 points xD

yknow for as much as i enjoy reading them i don’t think i’ve ever written OR plotted one out before!

hmmm… 🤔

very tempted to go damian for this one bc i love the whole. ‘see a different side of someone’ trope with animal transformation & when it comes to tim i find that trope yummiest w jason & dami lmao

hmmm, am thinking…

Tim gets turned either on patrol or while researching an object. I lean more toward the latter bc I like the idea of them finding him at his apartment or in his nest, and while that’s possible with the first option it’s easier/more likely with the second. And I like the idea of him having been stuck there for a short time lmao.

Could also be fun if maybe he was on research duty bc he had a broken/twisted/sprained arm or leg, so little cat Tim also has an injured limb… Teeny Tim cat with a li’l cast on…

Anyway! Damian and Dick are on patrol together when Babs asks them to check on Tim bc he hasn’t reported in over 24 hours and she just wants to make sure he’s good. Dami is aggravated to be interrupted but also he IS a little concerned bc Tim is generally prompt about his check-ins. And ofc when they get there there’s no sign of Tim, just a little black cat holding one of its paws kind of weird.

They look the place over, collect any evidence, etc. Damian makes some disparaging comments both to hide his own worry but ALSO to distract Dick from his. Def takes charge of the cat, bringing him back to the Cave/Manor to get him some food and medical attention. Maybe says something about Tim’s carelessness, which bothers Tim, making him growl/hiss/scratch at Damian.

Obviously how he acts with everyone around vs just with the cat is different; he’s less prickly when it’s just him & Timcat. The main inspo for me picking Damian and writing all of this was a couple of lines of dialogue that popped in my head when I read this. Something like—

“Just between you and me,” Damian says, his voice low and almost conspiratorial, “I find myself worried for Timothy as well.”

Tim’s ears prick slightly, his head raising ever so slightly off of his paw. His body has turned liquid under the touch of Damian’s hand; gentle yet firm as it runs over the length of his spine.

“For all of his faults, he would not have left you alone. Especially not if you were injured.” Damian’s hand stills, settling just under Tim’s shoulder blades. It’s a warm, comforting weight there—almost as comforting as the words themselves. A soft rumble starts in his torso.

As much as he tries not to care what Damian—what *anyone*—thinks, it… bothered Tim, that Damian believed he could be so callous. To know that it was an act is a relief.

Though it begs the question of *why*.

Damian scratches lightly behind one of Tim’s ears, and his eyes close without his meaning to. He tilts into it, sighing; the soft rumble in his ribs turning louder.

His questions will keep.

Not sure how they ultimately figure out that Tim is the cat, only that I do want Damian to be the one to figure it out. I also want Damian to end up doing a majority of sifting through Tim’s files—lol, maybe taking over for Bruce or Dick bc he didn’t like how they were doing it, and Tim being surprised at how well Damian knows him/his system. (Bc Damian has been studying him.)

Oh OH, also want Tim to decide to take advantage of being a cat to learn more about Damian since Damian talks to him a lot? So he learns more about how Damian feels about him but also more about Damian in general. But then maybe it gets awkward bc Damian maybe starts talking about Tim being pretty and how that just makes his feelings (jealousy, admiration, guilt) even MORE complicated.

Final thought: I kind of want this to be pre-Alfred the Cat? So Damian doesn’t have a cat at all, and Tim gets him one after bc “he knows Damian will take good care of it” and “he always wanted a cat growing up so maybe he could visit it sometimes…”. Cat could maybe be an apology for Tim letting the ruse go on, though I am thinking he DID try to signal early on, they just missed it? But anyway.

[ send me an au and i’ll tell you (at least) 5 things i would have happen in it ]

[rewritingcanon]

What would you say are your more controversial opinions about the hp characters?

ohhhh okayyy. i feel like my opinions on a lot of the characters aren’t controversial because i dont feel super strongly towards anyone in any negative light but here are some i could think of at the top of my head:

i’m glad the malfoys faced more extreme backlash after the second wizarding war. a lot of people in the fandom seem to be very sympathetic towards draco and scorpius for getting dogpiled with the brunt of it (which yeah, it sucks, especially for scorpius) but the prejudice makes complete make sense to me. if i was someone who didn’t know scorpius’ character, and had someone from my family get killed in the second war due to death eaters or something— seeing the malfoys still be wealthy and walk around freely without any jailtime, i would be bitter too. they’re hated on but they’re still one of the richest families ever, so they’ll live LOL

another anon has asked about this and i haven’t responded to them yet but when i do i will link it here for my reasons. basically: the best character in the cursed child is harry potter. i think the way they wrote his character and ptsd carried the play. it was def his story, not albus’.

i do think dumbledore has some aspects of him that may be considered morally gray, but mostly i dont think he is. he does everything for the good of the world, and his complete selflessness leads him to sacrifice anything for it— even himself and the people he loves, when necessary. i completely understand why people wouldn’t agree with his methods though.

james potter isn’t a sunshine character he’s a dickhead. fans of him made him a golden retriever character to be more palatable for modern times. i like him the way he is: an asshole and then less of an asshole 👍 this is what true stanning looks like

pansy parkinson is racist and out of all the female side characters, developing HER is so questionable from fandom

harry had questionable descriptions about a lot of male characters to make people think he could be a little 🏳️‍🌈 there was bill, there was sirius, there was cedric. but draco is not a part of that list. harry was not feeling draco whatsoever throughout the series but drarry shippers cling to that one ‘obsessed’ line

furthermore, harry rejecting draco’s offer of friendship wasn’t a sad or a ‘what if’ scene. draco was being a classist piece of shit and harry didnt want to fuck with that, there isnt any way in any timeline he wouldve accepted draco’s friendship.

slytherin sucks just generally lol. people want so bad to pluck anti-heroes out of a series that was written specifically with the mind to make all the characters suck.

hermione and ron’s drama isn’t as toxic as people make it out to be. yes, this includes the time hermione sent birds after him. people act like its the end of the world but she was tackling puberty and the end of society soooo i give her a pass to tweak out.

mostly every harry potter character has horrific names. like literally mostly everyone. even the name harry potter 🙁

movie romione wasn’t that bad LOL

severus snape’s ‘redemption’ or whatever was so ass. he bullies kids for five years and then everything is chill because… true love? on harry’s mum? are you kidding me 💀

weasley family angst goes hard but people (especially percy stans and some ron&ginny stans) acting like they’re the most toxic family to walk the earth make me want to rip my hair out and eat it. molly loves her kids guys shes not evil. jesus.

genuinely trying to think of more but i can’t right now…. maybe i will reblog and add to it. i feel like most of my opinions aren’t that controversial though 😭

[simpforrooster]

falling for a girl in purple & gold.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader

summary: your brother convinces you to join him at his tailgate. you meet a gorgeous blonde, who happens to root for the opposing football team.

t/w: lots of mention of alcohol. she/her pronouns. cursing. instalovey.

a/n: i’ve been dying to write something like this. this fic is def based off megan maroney’s ‘tennessee orange’ and conner smith’s ‘orange & white.’ i left readers school pretty ambiguous until the verrrrrry end. i’m an lsu girlie 💜💛 so i needed a little self-service.

Stepping into the tailgate tent, nostalgia fills your body. You are transported immediately back to your time in college. Cheering on your alma mater with your sorority sisters. Hooking up with those random frat guys who definitely showed you a good time. You’d have to remember to thank your brother for making you come.

“Sis!” Speak of the devil. Your brother envelops you into a huge bear hug, as if he didn’t see you one week prior at your family’s standing dinner date. You return his hug.

“I am so glad you made it!”

Your brother began introducing you to several of his friends who were taking up space in the tailgate tent. If he doesn’t know them from his fraternity days, then he knows them from the Navy.

“Two more guys are planning to show,” your brother says. “Guys from my time in Miramar.” You understand this to mean from his time at TOPGUN.

Lucky for you, you’ve been schooled in all things naval aviation thanks to the burly guy you call a brother. There was no way he was going to have a sister have zero knowledge about the Navy.

His words, not yours.

Leaving you to ponder, your brother begins mixing drinks. He hands you his “special” after a few minutes. His special being vodka, with a tiny splash of sprite and cranberry juice.

You take the drink from him, raising your brows.

“It’s the first tailgate of the year, sis. Go big or go home.”

You’d much rather go home than consume a ton of alcohol in this heat.

“Well if it ain’t Bozo!” you hear a deep voice call, with a sliiiiight country accent.

“Hey guys!” your brother calls with the enthusiasm of a kid who just unwrapped a PS5 from under the tree. “I’m glad y’all made it.”

You turn and take in the source of that accent, and almost spill your drink. Your brother never told you he was friends with Adonis.

His blonde hair fans out at his neck, beneath a nice Stetson, like he’s skipped a few haircuts. A pair of jeans hug his hips, and across his chest, the school colors of the enemy.

University of Texas. You were sure that burnt orange wouldn’t look good on anyone, but this man is proving that notion wrong. Your eyes lock with his, and he makes sure you see his eyes trail down your body.

When those green eyes meet yours, he drops his right eye in a slow wink.

“Bozo, I didn’t know you colluded with the enemy,” you say to your brother, nodding toward the handsome blonde.

“Ah, well,” Bozo starts, rubbing his hand behind his neck, “not everyone is perfect.”

“What do they call you?” you ask the blonde, not being able to take not knowing his name any longer.

“Hangman.” He fixes you with a gorgeous smirk, and tips that cowboy hat.

“Hangman?” you question, cocking an eye brow.

Those eyes peer into yours. “Yes ma’am.” The way he says those two words has you thinking of all the instances he could say them in.

“What do they call you when you’re not flying a plane?”

“Jake. And your name, pretty lady?”

“Y/n.” You stick a hand out toward him. Jake reaches forward, taking your hand lightly into yours. The two of you stand there, shaking hands for what feels like an eternity. Neither one of you wanting to break the contact.

“Fuck, Bozo. You never mentioned how beautiful your sister is,” Jake says to your brother, but never taking his eyes off you.

“Because you’re a fucking playboy, Bagman,” he says.

“Funny,” Jake comments.

And you’d gladly let him.

“A playboy, huh?” You quip.

Jake shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe I just haven’t met the right lady yet.”

The way he peers into your eyes has you sipping your mixed drink in order to hold some of your sanity. This man has the potential to ruin you.

And you’d gladly welcome it.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him toward the beer pong table. “Be my partner.” You fix him with one of your award winning smiles.

“Anything for you, darlin’,” he drawls. Gah, that accent is gonna be the death of you. The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, beating your brother and another aviator, Rooster, effortlessly.

Jake holds up his hand for a high five. When your hand meets his, his fingers lace between yours. He pulls you into him. You can’t be sure if the vodka is making you lightheaded, or the way your body feels pressed against his.

“I’m having the time of my life with you, sweet thing,” he says into your ear. You giggle into his chest. You actually giggle. You’ve never giggled in your life.

“What would you say if I needed to kiss you?” Jake asks against your temple. Spying your brother working the makeshift bar, you grab Jake’s hand. You lead Jake down an alley situated between two class buildings.

“I’d say, kiss me, Hangman,” you say, grabbing his ugly, orange jersey to pull him toward you. One of his hands braces his weight against the wall, just outside your shoulder. He has you completely caged in, that strong body hovering over yours. Jake reaches up to pull his hat from his head. He casually holds the hat up, blocking anyone from seeing the two of you.

Between Jake’s kisses and your brother’s mixed drink, you’re feeling all kinds of good. Not wanting any of it to stop, you grip his jersey tighter, pulling him as close as you can get him.

A low groan escapes his mouth, and the fact that he’s seemingly affected by you the same way you are by him has you reeling.

“A gentleman would at least take you out first before kissing you like this,” he murmurs.

“Oh yeah?” you question, not really letting his words soak in.

“Mhmm. Too bad I am not feeling too gentlemanly, right now.” Jake deepens the kiss, and your hands leave his jersey and thread through his hair.

“Good,” you breathe.

Your watch buzzes, pulling you from Jake’s tantalizing kisses. Taking a peek, your brother’s name appears across it.

Where the fuck are you? We have to go into the stadium.

Jake pulls his phone from his back pocket. “Bozo,” he murmurs.

“Where are your seats?” You ask, still breathless from his kissing.

“Next to you,” he says, placing once more kiss to your lips. Pulling you from the wall, he plops his hat onto your head.

“Fuck, my dads going to be so pissed I’m falling for a girl in purple & gold,” Jake says shaking his head. “Lead the way, darlin’.”

masterlist.