#it's because he's vulnerable and for no other reason

[demi-god77]

BYLER GATES: A GUIDE

(Explaining all the different theories, for anyone who is also lost with how many there are)

THE BIG 4

Flickergate: This theory involves a lot of time shenanigans and is connected to the Will having powers in s5 one (possibly manipulation of time or electricity). Theory claims Will and Mike will kiss in the UD, specifically outside Mike's garage, paralleling 1x01. Will is going to tell the truth at the same time his s1 self is ("it was a seven"), causing the garage light to flicker on Nov. 6th 1983.

Birthdaygate: This theory suggests that the Duffers didn't actually forget Will's birthday is March 22nd (the day of the rink-o-mania incident). It claims that Vecna is actually manipulating the characters' memories (possibly even Will's), making them forget his birthday in the process, maybe in an attempt to make him feel excluded/lonely and making him vulnerable. (Similar to the beginning of Harry Potter and the chamber of secrets, which happened to be on the inspo board for S4)

But also the Creel murders themselves happened on March 22nd.

Churchgate: More UD kiss related theories! This one claims Will is going to get Vecna'd or possessed in the Upside Down church (and that he's going to hurt/choke Mike in the process). With a crazy amount of religious symbolism, Mike would be the one breaking him out of his trance, through a kiss or a confession.

(More thorough explanation here.)

Lettergate: This gate's truthers believe that Mike did actually write to Will in the time period between s3 and s4, but never sent the letters. Said letters (signed "Love, Mike") are going to make an appearance in s5, revealing his true feelings. (Great post that has to do with this gate here)

Also related to:

OTHER GATES

Pocketgate: Very connected to Lettergate™️, this theory has to do with Mike's infamous triangle shaped pocket in S4. It suggests that the letter signed Love, Mike is hidden in said pocket throughout s4, since it very closely resembles an envelope. Triangles have also been used in ST as a queer symbol (with Robin) and Mike's pocket consistently points to Will like an arrow.

Phonegate: Kinda similar to the previous two, this gate claims Mike did actually call the Byers in Lenora. For some reason, the calls didn't go through, either because of Joyce's telemarketer job OR because of Vecna manipulating things again (cough, birthdaygate, cough).

This is backed up by one of Dustin's lines, saying that the Byers' phone line is always busy and Mike won't stop complaining about it. We know he must have been calling WILL, since the whole reason he was communicating with El using letters is that they couldn't talk on the phone.

Loverslakegate: Related to Lovers' lake (obviously). The lake is shaped like a heart, tying into its name, but it was split in two after the gates opened, now resembling a broken one (and Mike is ofc referred to as "the heart" so it could be a reference to him).

According to this theory, Mike and Will are going to kiss/become lovers near said lake/Reefer Rick's house.

Heartgate: To put it simply: Heart reflections EVERYWHERE. This one is better explained through pictures:

Also: Different heartgate but really interesting

Colorgate: I don't think I have to explain this one tbh but anyway

Blue meets yellow in the west.

Mike and Will have been HEAVILY associated with blue and yellow respectively since the beginning of the show (even wearing eachother's colours in both of their arguments). There's an insane amount of evidence that backs this one up.

It's speculated that the Russian code in s3 was foreshadowing for s4 ("The silver cat feeds when Blue meets Yellow in the west") Silver cat: Vecna who started killing when Mike (Blue) met Will (Yellow) in the west (California, literally west of Indiana)

Curtaingate: "They don't spent their lives trying to get a look at what's behind the curtain [...] They like the curtain. It provides them comfort, stability, definition" -Murray 2x05

Mike and El are pretty consistently framed in front of CLOSED (and more often than not, yellow) curtains, or ones that have closed blinds. According to this theory, closed curtains represent not being honest with one's true feeling. So, the truth about Mike's feelings is beyond the curtain and in s5 he will open it (and come out)

Motelgate: This one has to do with the dreaded two day time skip at the end of S4. Theory claims the Cali crew stayed at a motel during that time skip and the scenes were cut for time, but we'll flash back to them in s5. It's based on a photo a production assistant posted from the New Mexico filming, as well as some bts pics of the Cali Crew playing board games in a motel.

Shoegate: In S4, we see a pair of Will's shoes in his bedroom. In s5, Mike seems to be wearing that exact pair. This, in addition to the fact that they wear the same shoe size (a 10 according to their rollerskates from 4x02), lead people to theorize they will share clothes/shoes in s5. More importantly though, this theory suggests Mike is figuratively being put into Will's shoes (maybe pining?). Also, both of them wear the same shoes they wore in s2. Interestingly enough though, even though the design is the same, the colors are reversed (so their roles will be reversed too).

Possessiongate: This one runs DEEP so I'm going to link a bunch of posts

To put it VERY simply: this theory claims Vecna somehow attached himself to Mike (maybe when the vine grabbed him by the leg in the S2 tunnels- right before he started acting weird in s3 and s4) and he has been influenced/possessed for some time now.

He's not the dungeon master anymore, he's not in control. Both in s3 and s4 someone ELSE is the DM when they play D&D (Will and Eddie respectively)

More here and here

Victimgate: Very closely related to the previous one, this one suggests that MIKE was originally supposed to be Vecna's 4th victim instead of Patrick. Since Max escaped the first time, SHE ended up being the last victim but the original plan was for it to be Patrick. However, Patrick's curse doesn't fit the theme of all of the previous ones. We only see one of his visions, he gets cursed for ONE DAY, as opposed to the other 3 that are cursed for almost a week and we also know very little about him, even though we gradually knew more about the previous victims. Chrissy (no relation to main characters) -> Fred (friends w/ Nancy) -> Max (main character who we've known since s2)

More thorough explanation here

Twelvegate: This one is not really Byler related but i wanted to include it anyway

Theory claims Will was one of the lab kids (specifically 012) and him and El are actual twins. There are mentions of Will and El looking similar since s1, and a lot of twin imagery.

This theory obviously ties in with the Will having powers one and some people believe he wasn't 012, but him and El have a deeper connection/may be actually related. It could theoretically explain Henry's connection to Will, as well as things like El seemingly recognizing him in s1.(Alternatively called rainbowshipgate, because of the rainbow ship drawing Joyce mentions in s2 and the rainbow room)

Eightfifteengate: Again, not explicitly Byler but it's quite crazy.

TL;DR: The time 8:15 seems to have great significance in the show and it's mentioned all the time, if not by the characters themselves, (Eg. "It's 8:15, you're late"- El s2) then by small details in the background. There's even a whole track named after it.

Will left the Wheelers' house at 8:15 and it's the EXACT timestamp of his disappearance in 1x01. It's also the time in which most of the UD related weirdness happens and so it's very likely the UD is stuck on 8:15. (Also you know, 15-8=7)

Radiationgate: Related to the previous one! Clocks in Chernobyl are stuck on 8:15 and Hiroshima has been described figuratively as being frozen in time. Henry has burns identical to Chernobyl victims and almost all of his + his victims' symptoms can be explained through radiation exposure. As this post explains, for radiation levels between 8.3-11 Gy (SI unit for absorbed radiation), symptoms start with headaches and disorientation, move on to unconsciousness and bleeding (the exact symptoms of his victims) and finally, death happens at around 7 days (which is about how long Vecna's curse lasts AND how long Will was in the UD for)

Whiterabbitgate: The song "White Rabbit" is the first song in the show and it plays when we first get a sense of El's powers. Theory suggests it will also be the last song in the show (coming full circle) with either Will using his powers, or Willel using their powers together.

In general though, ST has a lot of similarities/parallels to Alice in Wonderland. The white rabbit constantly being late (Mike is late to something at the start of every season), great significance to clocks/ticking/time, a lot of hallucinations/visions, the overall similarities between the Upside Down and Wonderland. Henry's sister was literally named Alice Creel and there is SO much rabbit imagery throughout the show. There are also direct references to AIW with set pieces and paintings.

Soundtrackgate: This one has to do with the Stranger Things OST and the overall insane musical symbolism throughout the show. A lot of different theories talk about the show's soundtrack, but this one talks about 3 tracks in particular: Being Different, The First Lie, The First I love You

To put it briefly: "The First I love You" plays in both Robin's coming out scene and El's kiss with Mike at the end of s3 (Already a weird parallel). The three tracks not only share the same melody, but they also sync up perfectly. "Being Different" (s4 van scene) and "The First Lie" (Nancy and Jonathan's kiss in s2) especially, match up together to create an entirely new track, completing eachother. The scenes featuring those three tracks also share very similar themes at their core. (This post goes into a lot of detail!)

Playlistgate: Character playlists! At a certain point, every character's official playlist on Spotify was deleted, except for three: Mike's, Will's and Billy's. Songs were seemingly being added/deleted for no reason to the Mike and Will ones and people were struggling to make sense of it all.

Also, Mike's character playlist in particular is VERY interesting (so many byler coded songs, as well as "Smalltown Boy" a gay anthem, about a young gay boy forced to leave his home town to escape from their disapproval and homophobia.) There are three playlists on Finn's spotify that are very incriminating. "Love songs" (That has "BOYS DON'T CRY" on it, a song that Will literally has a poster of in his room), "drive" and the most recent one "STurn". These playlists feature songs like "Let her go", "Angst in my pants", "Me and Michael", "Gay thoughts" just to name a few. Basically a lot of the songs on all four playlists seem very relevant to some complicated feelings about Mike's relationship with El/Will but also with himself and his sexuality.

Scriptgate: Oh boy. Here we go.

On August 5th 2022, the byler fandom got #bylerscript trending worldwide on Twitter while waiting for the 8flix account (run by Nick Runyeard) to release some supposed s4 scripts (that people PAID for, mind you). These scripts dropped on August 8th, featuring lines like: "I hate who I am" from Will in the van scene, "His mouth dry, like a California summer" from the bedroom apology scene and also, Will seemingly recognizing Brenner at NINA, despite never meeting him in canon.

These turned out to be fake and the community was in shambles. Nick started calling people psychos, the Stranger Writers tweeted that everyone got scammed, Nick privated his account and the authenticity of some released s2-s3 scripts was questioned. This post explains the entire situation in detail.

Breathgate: This one is also script related and specifically about a Mike/Max parallel.

In the official van scene script, when Mike sees Will's painting "his breath catches." Then, when Lucas asks Max to the Friday movie date, "(her) breath catches" as well. People caught on that parallel very fast and since the latter is obviously a romantic moment, it boosted their confidence for both Byler and Lumax endgame.

Piggybackgate: This one refers to two different situations/theories.

One, the seemingly deliberate framing of Mike and Will inside the little bubble in El's piggyback drawing (and it referening to Byler). The framing is especially suspicious, because the bubble drawing was drawn two separate times (it's different from one shot to the other). In the second shot, they're framed directly inside of it.

Two, Mike in his monologue essentially piggybacking off of Will's van confession. His monologue was going off of El's feelings, but since they weren't actually El's, the speech was based on Will's feelings. It also ties in with the parallel/foreshadowing between the monologue and Suzie's house, with Will being paralleled to the "director" kid, directing a "choking" Tabitha and their dad (more thorough explanation here).

THE SILLIES

(aka the joke-theories/memes)

Miniongate: Mike and Will are secretly minions. (Because you know, minions are primarily blue and yellow)

This information will be revealed to us in s5 and they will have a magical girl-esque transformation where we see their true minion form. (Original post here)

Localvillagegate: Related to the leaked Mike and El rooftop scene.

Basically, a mlvn used AI to lip read the scene and try to figure out what Mike is saying (and then posted the video on Twitter).

According to them, Mike was telling El they were going to leave the local village (AKA Hawkins) together and travel to a beautiful faraway land with "like, three waterfalls or something" (and also that she has to "improve her motivation", whatever that means).

People thought it was hilarious and started making a ton of memes based on it.

Parrotgate: This is directly connected to localvillagegate™️ and it was created by @cloudycleric in one of his streams.

Basically, the parrots are gay and represent Will and Mike, who in s5 will kiss under the three waterfalls depicted on the image.

Backgroundguygate: People making headcanons and creating backstories for random extras. The star of this gate is Barrett, an extra from the Lenora high school, who wears a barrette, bright red pants and a shirt that says "Hell".

According to this gate, he's actually gay and in love with Will. He has a goth best friend named Claire who is a lesbian and in love with El.

Chancegate: The theme of shipping Will with random extras continues on strong

Chance is one of Jason's friends and part of the basketball team. People thought he was attractive and somewhere along the line started making headcanons for him and shipping him with Will (Bychance). Basically, they're gonna date and Mike will be jealous.

Mikhailgate: More shipping Will with randoms! (I'm beginning to see a pattern here)

Originally created by @paladin-n-cleric

Enzo in S4 mentions his son, Mikhail Antonov. Mikhail is the Russian name for Micheal.

People started making jokes that Mikhail would arrive to Hawkins from Russia in s5 and shipped him with Will (Willhail), since he's like Mike but Russian and cooler. They made fanart, edits and posted pictures of Finn as Boris in "The Goldfinch" claiming it's Mikhail.

@will80sbyers then begun to ship Mikhail with El and thus the ship "Jail" was born.

Baldmikegate: Did you know Mike is actually bald and is bullied for it? Well, now you do.

In 2022, a cult was born and the byler tag was filled with edited pictures of Bald!Mike. Terrifying honestly.

Some people made posts about how the rest of the party feels about Mike's secret baldness and some even wrote FANFICS.

Gridgate/whiteboardgate/pixelgate: The Stranger Writers posted a picture of a pixelated/blurred whiteboard that had the entirety of s5 mapped out. People were desperately trying to decode it and figure out what was written on it.

On the space for episode 7, there was a "big black hole" that people went crazy trying to make sense of, only for it to be revealed as a pen holder.

Babygirlgate: The babygirlification of Mike Wheeler. That's it. That's the gate.

I think pretty much every line Will has ever said to Mike has been posted with the word "babygirl" replacing his name (it's hilarious and I love it)

Some examples here and here

Mattduffersbasementgate: Finn and Joe made up a third Duffer brother named Pete, who has no hair for some reason and is the actual writer of Stranger Things, while Matt and Ross are just the faces of it. Pete lives in a shed/Matt's basement and that's where he writes all of the scripts.

Finn and Noah are both also being held in Matt's basement however, and they're not allowed to leave so that they don't spoil byler endgame.

I definitely missed some gates, but omg this took SO LONG

(this post is for you @felix-fathoms @bibylers)

[3motionally3xhausted]

Redesigning the Fentons!!

Hi yes this is for yet another Danny Phantom AU of mine it has nothing to do with the Apprenticeship AUs but unlike that batch I actually wanna turn this AU into a fic eventually once I get through a few other big projects I have *sobs*

Anyway individual files for each character under the cut along with my obligatory rambling about all the choices I made ;)

Jazz! Honestly, when I was a kid, I always thought she was 18 not 16 so it was kind of a shock when I started rewatching the show about a yr ago and heard that. Anyway, she's 17 in this AU but already moved out to college on a scholarship bc living in FentonWorks is kind of hell and she has that Older Sibling Guilt for leaving Danny there. For her clothes, I wanted it to be a mix of tactical and preppy.

Danny! (Fenton) The effects of FentonWorks hell is much more visible on Danny than Jazz because she got out of there as soon as she could. Because of that though, a lot of the chores in the lab got pushed onto Danny, without passing on many safety tips, like replacing the ecto-filtrator, cleaning contaminated tools, organizing ecto-weapons, etc. And because he doesn't know any better when it comes to safety, he has many symptoms of radiation poisoning: visually, this comes through in the discoloration/scarring on his skin (Jazz has some slight scarring on her face and hands as well), the cataract on his left eye, as well as burst blood vessels in that eye. For his clothes, I wanted them to look a bit ragged and worn through ripped seams, tears in the jeans, & duct tape around his shoe.

Danny! (Phantom) I don't actually have a lot to SAY about my choics, but I am really happy with it. There are still a few things. I wanted his hair as Fenton & Phantom to be different but still reminiscent of the simplistic rendering of the original show: Fenton is kind of timid so his hair falls over his face, & Phantom is more active/aggressive so his hair is pushed upward. The only other thing I want to comment on is his skin: it's kind of about how I usually stylize Phantom (and I mentioned this when I redesigned Dani a while back) but a "healthy" Phantom in my style would have more bright cyan skin and an unhealthy Phantom has a more dull/zombie green. And lastly, as a ghost, the radiation poisoning kind of cleans up into more neat scarring rather than the muddy/bleeding look as Fenton.

Maddie! Now, I'm gonna be honest, real vulnerable here,... I hate Maddie's canon haircut. It's ugly, I'm not sorry. But I can modify it, so it's fine: now it's curlier, a bit darker, and has a few grey streaks bc she's a genius and constantly pulling long working hours. And, it didn't come across as much as I wanted, but she's got some biceps, strong lady. Now, I'm not really sure why, but I wanted to shift the color of her and Jack's jumpsuit, making hers much more desaturated.

Jack! Big guy. I don't have many thoughts about him either, but I did give him glasses and some stubble for a little bit more dad energy (?) I mainly changed the color of his jumpsuit bc Orange is an extremely hard color for me to render for some reason, so now it's the classic Hazard Yellow. Finally, the most notable difference is the coat I put on him for a bit more scientist energy but my main reasoning for it is the potential visual of him being an absolute tank jumping from overhead with the ghost gauntlets and his coat flapping behind him. Also, I generally like the idea of him presenting himself as a big, dumb teddy-bear, always smiling, but completely unhinged below that facade: dropping the smile or not while towering over you in shadow. Wild imagery.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Do not count on any actual steps towards creating this fic in the near future, it's just on my mind right now, but I NEED to finish my other projects first 🙏🙏🙏 That said, I will (eventually) get around to a handful more character redesigns for this AU including: Vlad, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Paulina, and maybe Lancer & Dash

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + eighteen

authors note: this one gets pretty heavy and violent at points. please read the cw/tw's carefully in order to make the best informed decision regarding your mental ability to handle such heavy topics.

cw/tw: angst, violence, torture (gore), (light) fluff, ptsd episode, character being triggered, and references to childhood sexual assault

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

masterlist + story playlist

words: 10k

Solana knows Roman well.

She knew to start off the letter the way she did, asking for him to be open minded, because she knew exactly what his answer would be. 

No.

It’s the same answer he still has even after her logical explanation. It’s a selfish thing. He’s a selfish bastard at heart because despite her being vulnerable about her mental state and making a solid point, he still wants and plans to say no. 

Still plans come and take her home in a week.

And while he has his reasoning, believing that she can continue her healing outside of some mental facility, it’s also for his own good. He just wants her home. He wants to not have the house be so quiet and empty. To not have to be reminded of her absence in everything from the lack of the aroma of her delicious cooking to Dulce yelping and whimpering whenever he walks in the door home from work without Solana beside him.

He just misses her, and he wants her home. 

He understands where she’s coming from and agrees she could benefit from continuing to talk to someone, to definitely stay on medication. 

But, those things can continue without her being away from home.

There’s also the matter of safety. Yes, Roman went above and beyond what was probably necessary to ensure she has a copious amount of protection, but that’s still not as safe as her being with him.

And he’s almost certain that the facility she’s talking about is the same one Stratus mentioned to him. The place that’s an hour away.

That’s too fucking far.

From their home, Roman can make it to the hospital in ten minutes, if need be. 

Solana being an hour away from him just isn’t a fucking option.

He needs her…..she needs to be close to him.

He’ll just have to help her understand that. 

But, all of that is easy. 

What’s not easy is the other major takeaway from her letter.

I love you, Ro.

In all of his thinking, perhaps overthinking, regarding his thoughts and feelings about his wife, never did it really occur to him that she could feel the same. He knew she cared about him. She’s said as such to him before. But, for whatever reason, he never allowed himself to imagine that she could love him.

And that she could love him without expecting anything in return. Because she believes him incapable of loving her because of his own trauma, and that’s not entirely wrong. 

He does love her.

Fuck, he loves the living shit out of her.

But, he can’t act on it.

Even with this unexpected twist. Her loving him, which fucks with his head too. The why of it. 

There’s not a lot to love, if he’s being honest.

He protects her. Keeps her safe. Gives her that safe space. Beyond that, there’s not really anything else. 

Her standards must be so low. 

Regardless, Roman can’t allow this new piece of information to change or impact his decision.

He can’t openly reciprocate her feelings.

Even….even if he sure as hell feels the same. It’s too risky. Too dangerous. 

He just can’t.

Roman may love her, but he can never tell her he loves her.

It just has to be this way.

________

Ryan Alexander

Tyler Hawkins

Two men whose lives have been intertwined in various ways in the almost 60 years they’ve walked this earth. It started with a meeting in college, both men playing for the same baseball team, having a few of the same classes together, even pledging to the same fraternity. 

They would end up in the same graduating class and go on to open up their own private security company that offered protective services for upscale clientele. Celebrities, athletes, even politicians.

But…..for the right amount of money, they could do more than just protect lives.

They could take them too. 

The company easily and quickly made its name  known through the right or maybe wrong places. Information falling in the lap of parties who were less interested in safety and more interested in murder.

It’s how Xavier Miller got in touch with them. How Solana’s father hired them to take out his wife and daughter after learning of her plan to run away and steal his children away from him, more his son than anything. He really didn’t give a shit about Solana.

Never did. 

It was why when the hit failed to take out both Nina and Solana, Xavier was able to negotiate so that instead of paying the remaining debt due after the deposit. He got them to agree to slash it in half, leaving him owing 250k. The problem was as it always has been though. Xavier lacks vision, lacks long-term vision. He didn’t think about how finances could change for the negative between the time he made the deal and when payment would be due.

Because when that day arrived, he lacked the sufficient funds. But while Xavier may lack good financial and investment knowledge, he makes up for it in craftiness. 

He formed a new deal. One that truly gave all three men a win-win. Xavier’s debt would be cleared, and Ryan and Alexander would be able to enjoy indulging in one of their favorite sexual pastimes. A privilege they can usually only pursue when traveling overseas where child sex slavery runs a lot more rampant and unregulated. 

By luck though, they got their fill domestically in the form of an innocent, 12 year-old little girl. 

A virgin. 

Xavier’s daughter.

Solana Miller

Now known as Solana Reigns, the wife of the infamous Roman Reigns. The same man who Ryan and Tyler have no idea has been behind the absolute hell they’ve been through in the past almost two weeks. Kidnapped in the middle of the night, subjected to an unauthorized but ultimately approved (by Roman) beating by Jimmy and Jey before they were reunited with Xavier’s ain’t shit ass who had also received a long overdue beating from both Roman and the twins.

That beating, however, was nothing compared to the beginning stages of their demise, a version and level of hell only few experience, but something these fuckers have front seats for. 

Roman is methodical with his torture, and this might be the most determined he’s ever been to maximize pain. 

He’s going to ensure they only take their last breath when he feels it’s time, when he’s exhausted any and all ways to extend their life in order to extend their suffering.

And while many would think it started with the beatings, that’s far too simple, too easy. And Roman is neither of those things. He’s calculated and borderline sadistic when the occasion calls for it, and there’s not been a more deserving occasion for him to act on his dark, evil impulses than this. 

So, it was only fitting that all three men, the rapists and the son of a bitch who organized it all, know exactly what it’s like to experience what they put Solana through. 

And that’s exactly what Roman organized. Having all three men dumped and left defenseless in a maximum security prison. Whatever happened, fucking happened. 

And judging by the battered, stunned, borderline traumatized expressions on their cut, brusied faces, exactly what Roman wanted them to experience is precisely what they fucking got. 

For almost two weeks straight.

Jimmy and Jey toss the three men down on the ground before Roman before moving to stand behind him on either side. 

“Ya’ll like fucking little girls, don’t you?” Jimmy sneers, Roman not even needing to look at his cousin to know he’s livid. “So what’s the big fuckin’ deal?”

“Don’t like it when your assess the ones on the receiving end, huh?” Jey taunts. Fitting. 

But, now…..now it’s time for the real pain to begin. Roman lifts his hand to signify his desire from silence. The twins go quiet almost immediately. 

The Tribal Chief turns up his nose as Ryan spits up blood onto the concrete floor. Granted, it won’t make much of a difference. When Roman is done with them, the room will be bathed red. 

He steps forward. 

“August 7th, 2005 and September 8th, 2007.” Roman shrugs and asks the men, “what’s significant about these dates?” When he doesn’t receive an answer, he takes his gun and aims it for Tyler, emptying the bullet into his knee. The man howls in pain and begins to cry. Roman scowls. Pathetic bitch. “I aksed a fucking question.” 

He gaps,, forcing out through closed eyes. “I–I don’t know.” 

Roman crouches down in front of them, ignoring the stench of piss and perspiration emanating off their pathetic bodies. “August 7th, 2005. A mother and daughter were attacked. Stabbed. Mother died trying to protect her daughter. Daughter survived. She was ten-years-old.” Roman looks away at the adjacent wall, jaw clenching a bit as he recalls the next part. “”September 8th, 2007. Two men break into the house and spend hours gang raping a child in her own fucking bedroom before beating her half to death and leaving her for dead.” Dead fucking silence. “She was 12-years-old.” He turns his empty, stoic gaze back onto them. “Sound fucking familiar now?” 

“You carried out the rape,” he gestures to the set of crying rapists and then a numb looking Xavier. “And you arranged it.” Roman shrugs, rolling his big shoulders. “Seemed only fucking fair you three got a taste of what you put her through.” He then chuckles. “Now, I am a fair man. A fair Tribal Chief.” In a matter of seconds though, his disposition completely shifts, changes into something cold, heartless. “But, you don’t get that. You don’t get that fairness. You don’t fucking deserve it. You tortured her. You made her life a living fucking hell.” 

“But you know where you really fucked up?” He reaches his arm out, pointing toward the sledgehammer, one of the twins placing it in his hand. Roman stands up and kicks Tyler backwards, hesitating not a second as he brings it down to his knees, one by one, effectively and immediately shattering both. “You did it to my wife.” Roman taunts over the sound of the man crying. He then moves to Ryan, aware of the knee he already shot, sticking with one to avoid too much blood. Can’t have the bitch bleeding out just yet. “That twelve year-old girl was my wife.” When he gets to Xaveir, he exerts a special amount of energy to strengthen the impact of his blow as he demolishes the older man’s knees. “That ten year old-girl was my wife!” 

Roman tosses the sledgehammer to the side as someone has the audacity to utter out a pained, “p–please.” 

That infuriates Roman more than what should be humanly possible. “Please?” He sees the word came from Tyler. Snarling, Roman jumps over the man, raining a blow so heavy that it breaks his nose, the sickening crack sounding through the air. “Is that what she said when you fucking held her down and raped her!” 

The thought alone results in Roman continuing to punch the man until his fist is painted red and Tyler is clearly on the verge of losing consciousness. 

Standing back up, he huffs, speaking to the rapists, “17 years. She’s suffered for seventeen years because of you.” He points to a barely there Xavier. “And 29 years because of you.” Roman’s  upper lip curls a bit as he swears, “if I could torture you all for that long, I fucking would, but I can’t, so days will have to suffice.”

He’s filled with another level of rage when the cries and pleads for mercy intensify. “Shut up!” He then forcefully demands of the twins, “bring him in!”

Jey, he thinks, disappears for a few minutes only to return with an also bruised, battered Wes. Roman scoffs with disgust as Xavier looks horrified at the presence and sight of his son.

He coughs out, ribs probably broken or at least fractured. And if they’re not, Roman will make sure they are before the end of the night. “Pl—please don’t do—”

Roman has heard enough. This piece of shit has the fucking audacity to beg and plead for the life of his son but couldn’t even protect his own fucking daughter?

Fuck that.

Fury fills and controls the Head of the Table as he yanks up a barely conscious Wes and throws him against the brick wall, the impact loud enough for the sound of his shoulder popping to fill the room. Roman then grabs the sledgehammer again and rains it down on not only his knees but his hands as well, effectively smashing them, resulting in grotesque hairline fracture, bones protruding from his skin.. 

Xavier cries out and begs Roman to stop, which only fuels his tirade even more. Drives him to continue his brutal assault. Roman slams his fist onto Wes’s face, breaking his jaw before Roman squeezes the fucking life out of Wes’s neck and slams him again against that same brick wall. 

And without second thought, as Wes fights to remain conscious, face almost unrecognizable at this point, Roman reaches for his eye, using his middle and index finger to gouge out his eyeballs one by one, ignoring the horrified screams of both father and son. 

Xavier is full on sobbing but practically screams when Wes body drops to the ground like a ragdoll, and Roman tosses the bloody eyeballs toward Xavier. 

“Waterboard him!” Roman directs to the twins who don’t hesitate to drag a crying Wes out of the room by his limp arm, most likely broken in the midst of Roman’s vicious beating. Breathing uneven, Roman flips his hair back that had come out of his bun and turns his attention back on the three older men. 

“I’m going to make you all suffer the same fucking way you made her suffer,” he vows, every intention on maximixing pain in a way he’s never done before. “You’ll be wishing for something as fucking nice as hell when I’m done with you.”

________

Roman has just finished skinning a patch out of Ryan’s abdomen, the chunk of skin joining that of Tyler and Xavier’s slab of skin and other dismembered body parts. 

Wes is up next on the list.

The fucker strapped to the chair has gone unconscious, but his pulse is still relatively strong, so Roman continues. He’s done this too many times to be deterred by someone tapping out.

Tossing the bloodied knife and saw to the side of the room with the rest of the blood stained tools of torture, he grabs the drill and starts to navigate which drill bit to use when the door opens.

Right away, he’s tempted to use the object in hand on whoever was stupid enough to interrupt him.

Roman turns to see none other than his aggravating ass cousin holding a phone. Of course. Attention back to the task at hand, he bites out, “I told you not to fucking bother me. Whoever it is, I’m busy.”

Jey is about as moved by Roman’s tone as he is by the bloody, gory scene before him. Indifferent but still eager to leave, he instead provides the additional information that he knows will absolutely snatch Roman’s attention.

“It’s Bautista.” Sure enough, Jey can see his cousin’s big shoulders go still. “He—”

Roman stands up, tossing the drill to the side and quickly removing the gloves that are caked in blood, skin, and other anatomical matter. He stalks toward Jey, issuing his harsh demand,“give me the phone.”

Jey does as such, sucking his teeth when some of the blood flicks on him. “Man, that’s nasty as hell.”

Roman doesn’t comment, just walks out the room for privacy and demands to the man on the other end, “what happened?”

Bautista doesn’t hesitate and is quick with an easy response. “She wants to talk to you, sir.”

There’s only a slight decrease in concern levels that Roman experiences in hearing that Solana wants to speak to him versus Bautista having to inform him that something has happened. She’s conscious. That’s good. “Put her on.”

Bautista doesn’t say anything, but Roman hears what sounds like slight movement and hushed voices. It’s followed up with a quiet sniffle and even quieter, “hey….” Another sniffle as her volume increases ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, it’s—it’s so late.”

Roman has no idea what time it is nor does he care what time it is. He just wants to know why she’s crying and who he has to kill. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She takes a shaky breath and follows it up with an even shakier answer, weighed down with the heavy emotions she’s clearly struggling with at this moment. “We—we—we talked about my…my rape in therapy today, and I’ve never—I’ve never actually spoken about it to anyone, and I thought—I thought I was fine, but now…..”

His chest suddenly tightens. “Are you thinking about—”

“No.” Her answer is the firmest he’s heard in the conversation so far. Serious and solid. “Not that. I just—I can’t sleep because now I’m thinking about….about it, and I just….I wanted to hear your voice, and I’m sorry—you were probably asleep.”

No. No, he wasn’t. Far from it. And even if he was, it wouldn’t matter.

She comes first. 

No matter what.

“I’m gonna come see you.”

“No.” The sniffling resumes as does her tendency to try to make herself as less of a ‘problem’ as she can, no matter how many times Roman tries to explain she never has and never will be anything of the sort. “I’ll–I’ll be okay.”

Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, he’s not taking the risk because Roman cannot physically handle hearing her crying, hearing her so upset and not be able to do anything about it.

“I’m coming, Solana. Give me a half hour, okay?” He’d head there straight away right now, but the idea of coming to her after spending house torturing men, blood, bone, and other unidentifiable matter splattered all over him, is the last thing she needs. “I’ll be there.”

There’s another delay, and he’d bet any money it’s her trying to hold back the tears as best she can. “Oh–kay.”

He swallows, asking, “can you put Bautista back on the phone?”

Again, more shifting on the other end. “Hello?”

“Don’t take your fucking eyes off her.” Roman’s tone is hardened and leveled. “I’ll be there shortly.” He doesn’t wait for a response, doesn’t need to provide instructions on how to make sure his wife is kept safe.

Bautista already knows what the fucking deal is.

Roman can’t get cleaned and showered fast enough, ridding his body of all of the telltale signs that he’d spent the majority of the day torturing his wife’s family and rapists. She doesn’t need to know that. 

He’s impatient for the drive that feels much longer than the twenty minutes it actually is. A large part of that being that he just wants to get to Solana. 

She’d called him. She’d reached out to him.

The same thing he wishes she had done that night. Something he still feels strangely about but will learn to sort through later. Not now. 

Now his focus is on just making sure she’s alright.

That she’s safe.

Roman walks in with purpose, uninterested in Bautista’s short briefing, which is essentially more or less him just confirming that Solana hasn’t been left alone, another guard watching her as Bautista escorted Roman into the premises that’s otherwise locked down given it’s almost midnight.

Not that he gives a fuck.

Roman finds Solana sitting on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest. But, the minute her teary eyes land on him, she’s moving up from said bed, rushing over to him. Naturally, Roman catches her, holding her as she silently cries into his chest.

He’s gonna rip that fucking therapist a new one. 

“I’m sorry—” Roman hates hearing her apologize. He hates seeing her upset, but the fact that she’s apologizing for feeling the way she does is a different layer of irritation. It reminds him of how she used to be. Makes him realize just how much and deep this regression has been. “I just—I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

He’s just about to once again remind her that she has nothing to be sorry about when her last statement snatches his attention. Alarms him a bit. “Solana….I need you to be honest with me—”

And she must know where he’s headed, because she pulls back, holding his gaze as she shakes her head. “I don’t want to hurt myself. I promise. I just….I just don’t want to be by myself.” 

It makes sense, and he believes her. Somewhat. There’s still that part of him that’s skeptical. He’s not sure if that part will ever go away either.

Solana swallows and licks her lips, asking in that tentative voice, “will—will you stay with me tonight?”

It’s an easy answer. Something he already decided the minute he heard her crying on the other end of the phone.

“Yes.” She looks so massively relieved by that one word. “But not here.” And before the confusion fully sets in, he clarifies, “I’m taking you home.”

As expected, she looks surprised and torn, “Roman, I—”

“You get released in three days, Sol. I’ll bring you back tomorrow afternoon, but tonight, you need to be home. You don’t need to be here.” Roman isn’t a fucking professional, but he knows his wife. Knows that what she’s looking for is the feeling of security. There’s no more secure place than with him in their home. And even with Dulce.

Solana seems to be on the same page, nodding and offering no further protest. “Oh–okay.”

As she’s barely allowed any personal items, it takes less than twenty minutes for her to be ready to go, Roman directing Bautista to handle any issues that arise regarding her departure.

Roman is sure Stratus or even Gail will have issues with his decision. He’s also 100% sure that he doesn’t give a flying fuck. 

Solana needs to get away. 

She needs to be home.

She needs to be with him. 

And, he’s proven correct, because the minute she walks into the house, she’s looking over at Roman, asking, “where is she?”

“Our room.”

Solana can’t seem to move up the stairs fast enough, Roman behind her, partially eager to see this long awaited reunion. He’s not sure who will be happier: Solana or her puppy. 

It’s about a tie though, because the minute Solana moves over to the side of the bed where Dulce is sleeping and gets on her knees, carefully petting the puppy, Dulce’s head snaps up.

And instantly, she jumps at Solana. 

They’re both crying, Solana holding onto Dulce who is a mixture of whimpers, licks, and that tail of hers excitedly wagging. 

Solana says something in her to Spanish, something Roman can’t make out, but he doesn’t need to make it out. It’s obviously something moving. 

Something healing almost. 

Solana looks up at him, laughing and crying as Dulce tries to lick her face. Her voice cracks a bit as she says to him, “thank you.” 

Roman nods, that same, warm, unfamiliar emotion building up. Fucking feelings.

Nodding, he says nothing, watching as she continues to hold onto and cuddle with Dulce. 

Yeah…..

Definitely the right decision.

________

Roman lifts his eyes from the phone that he just put on Do Not Disturb to set his gaze on Solana. Out of the shower, she’s wearing only one of his shirts. Nothing else. He can tell by the way the cotton almost outlines her nipples. 

Placing the phone to the side, he’s slightly taken back when she moves onto his lap. “I—” Her eyes drop downward, her hands grasping at his shirt. “I need a distraction.” He’s confused, but it’s only temporary as she trails off with the specific distraction she’s looking for. “Can we….”

He doesn’t need to hear more. Roman understands just what she’s asking for.

And his answer is simple.

“Solana, I don’t think…..” He has to phrase it correctly, word it so that it doesn’t sound like he is rejecting her. He is, but it can’t come across as just that. “You’re not—”

“I feel dirty,” she interrupts, eyes closing, mouth moving around as she does her best to balance emotion with verbalization. “I—I don’t want to feel that. I want—I want to feel you. I only ever want to feel you.” Solana opens her eyes, pleading almost. “Please.”

Something is telling him to tell her no, to find a way to decline without hurting her feelings or making her feel rejected, because that’s the last thing he wants. 

But, it feels almost impossible. She’s upset. He doesn’t want her to feel the way she’s feeling, and if she believes being intimate tonight will help her, then he’ll give her that. 

Roman nods and gently taps her hip, partially surprised when she moves off his lap, taking his hand as she lays back on the bed, pulling him on top of her. 

Roman’s lips hover over hers as she breathes, “I just want to feel you.”

It’s taking a painful amount of self-control on Roman’s part to refrain from taking here right here and now. Because while he’s mentally conflicted, there’s no denying the hardness that’s growing in his pants by the minute as she lifts her thigh and grazes it against his hip. There’s no properly explaining how much he’s missed this.

He kisses her, tentatively almost, letting her take the lead as she moves her arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Roman’s hand goes to palm her breast through her shirt which makes her breathe against his mouth.

He shuts his eyes for a minute. He’d almost forgotten the sweet sounds she makes, fodder for his growing desire. He moves his mouth to her neck, sucking on the spot he’s learned makes her writhe under him, her nails scraping down his taut back. 

And then, the shift.

Roman feels it only seconds before she acts on it, the way she starts to tense underneath him, the growing unsteady pattern of her breathing, the fear. But before he can pull away, she’s pushing him away, letting out a ‘no’ that comes from a different place, a different time. It comes from her trauma.

Her push is strong, but it’s not enough to get him completely off of her. Roman does that much all on his own, watching as she sits up in the bed and covers her face.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes into her hands. “I—I’m sorry.” Her shoulders tremble as the apologies melt into the bleeding of emotions she tried to mask away with intimacy. “I’m sorry—” Solana falling into a full out crying session, the third or fourth time she’s done as much tonight, is more than enough for Roman to motion her over to him.

“Come here.” 

He’s at least grateful she lets him pull her onto his chest, letting her cry on him as he lays them back in the bed, his protective arms around her. For a second, he berates himself for taking her from the hospital. If they were still there, he’d wake up whoever the fuck he needed to wake up to give her that medicine she was prescribed for moments like this.

Moments where she just needs more.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, crying subdued a bit. But Roman is unsure what he dislikes more: the fact that she’s so upset or the fact that she thinks she needs to apologize for being so upset.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” is all he says. His hand is on the small of her back, moving in comforting circles. “Nothing at all, okay?”

She doesn’t say anything, just continues to cry into him, Roman wishing he could do more to settle her. It kills him to see her so upset. 

A few minutes later, her tears having almost entirely subsided, she murmurs, “I’m sorry we couldn’t….”

He takes a deep breath, willing his voice to remain calm. “Solana, I told you before I don’t need that from you—”

“But, I wanted to. I just…..”

“It’s okay.” He cuts her off, kissing the top of her head. “I never expected that from you tonight anyway.”

He already knew she wasn’t in the mental space for it, but he didn’t want her to feel rejected either, so he went along with it. There’s a bit of regret, maybe more than a bit, but Roman also knows he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Still is. 

“Rest.” He instructs, grateful when she simply nods against him, tucking herself closer into his body. And he watches her closely and intently, an infinite amount of pleasure rising within him when he feels the steady rise and fall of her body, confirmation that she’s finally drifted off into sleep.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep with her. He would actually prefer to stay up and watch her, but the weight of the day, mentally and physically, takes its unavoidable toll. And not too long after she succumbs to sleep, he does the same.

________

“Daddy.”

Roman’s eyes shoot open at the both familiar and unfamiliar voice. Looking down, he sees Solana sleeping peacefully on top of him, her hand atop his chest. But to his right, he finds sad eyes, tear stained cheeks, and a deep frown. 

Naturally, he frowns a bit as well. He hates seeing any of this family upset. “Bad dream?” 

She nods, holding onto the teddy bear in her arms. He’d gotten it for her a couple years back while he was away on business, and it’s become her comfort animal ever since. 

Roman is careful in prying Solana’s arm off him, grateful when the extent of her stirring is simply her turning over on the other side. Over the years, she’s gotten better with not being as easily disturbed or woken up.

And he’s especially thankful for that in this moment.

Moving the blankets down and off, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and rolls his shoulders. She shifts the bear in her arm to one side and reaches up for him to pick her up. “Come here.” Roman does as such, pulling her up as he stands from the bed. 

She lays her head on his shoulder while  he quietly walks them out the room, cracking the door behind him. Roman takes her downstairs into the living room and hits the lamp on the side table before grabbing the remote off the coffee table. 

Sitting down, she adjusts herself in his lap, holding onto her stuffy while he loads up the animated show with the creepy blue looking thing that kids apparently love, his included. 

Especially the twin on his lap. It’s like her comfort show.

“You wanna pick the episode?” It’s a preference. 

She nods and accepts the remote from him, selecting the same episode she’s watched the last 10+ times this has occurred. She almost always starts with this same episode, like she has to or else she can’t watch it.

A repeat and increasing thing, he’s noticing. 

As the opening credits roll around, Roman gently rubs her back, asking, “you wanna talk about it?”

She keeps her focus on the TV while shaking her head no. An expected answer given the fact that she never really likes to talk in general, but as Roman thinks about the increase in how often this is happening, he’s starting to wonder if it’s past the point where she gets a choice in the matter.

For the past few months, every so often, or more often now, he’ll be awoken in the middle of the night by his youngest daughter. Upset and clearly crying, she’ll ask him to sit with her, to stay with her until she falls asleep again. Though at some point, the addition of letting her watch an episode or two of her show seemed to aid in not only calming her down but eventually lulling her back to sleep.

And every time Roman tries to get out of her just what these bad dreams are, she remains quiet, forcing him to wreck his brain over what could be bothering her so much.

The unknown of it all is starting to mess with him.

He can’t help her if he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Sissy?”

Both Roman and the daughter on his lap look over to see her twin rubbing her sleeping eyes as she walks over and climbs onto the sofa, the two adjusting so they’re both seated on top of him. “Did you have the bad dreams again?”

At that, Roman’s brow furrows. Did she talk about them with her sister?

He asks as such. 

“Do you know what they’re about?” Roman and Solana suspected that she’d confided in her sister, her true confidant, but they also didn’t want to risk putting a rift between the sisters by making one feel like she has to ‘snitch’ on the other.

However, an unspoken communication of some sort is exchanged between the twins. The quieter of the two reluctantly nodding as the outspoken one shares, “sissy has bad thoughts…..”

Roman takes the remote and turns down the volume versus pausing as he notices she’s still trying to watch. To some extent. And it’s clearly helping to calm her, so he won’t deprive her of that. But, he does have to ask, “what kind of bad thoughts?”

That could be and mean so many things. And if the situation was different, he wouldn’t be too concerned. The level and standard for ‘bad’ that he has compared to his kids is vastly different. But given how upset his daughter has been getting, there’s gotta be something more severe to the ‘bad’ this time. 

His twin, in more than just looks and demeanor, seems to hesitate for a second, Roman ready to encourage her that it’s okay to be honest with him. He needs that honesty at this point. “She—she has scary thoughts about something happening to you and mama. And—and bad dreams that something’s gonna happen to you when you go on your trips.”

Roman does his best to hide his surprise. And his concern. He wasn’t expecting that. Turning to the youngest of the two, he asks, “is that true?”

She looks down, tightening her hold on her bear as she nods slowly.

Roman closes his eyes and takes a second to gather himself. Comfort now. Process later. It’s become a bit of a routine for him.

Needing both of their attention, he takes the remote again to hit pause. 

“Girls….” Roman has to remind himself to keep it simple and at a level they can understand. “I’m never going to let anything happen to your mom. Or to you. Or to your brother. And nothing is especially going to happen to me.” Seeing the emotion especially present in his youngest, he kisses her temple. “I’m always going to come back home to you guys, okay?”

And that’s a promise.

Come hell or high water, nothing could separate him from his family. 

Especially his kids. 

“Told you, sissy.” She then smiles a little, adding on with a toothy grin. “Daddy’s like a superhero.”

Roman chuckles. Far from it. But whatever helps them. 

Taking over the duty of being the parent, showing that while she has many of her father’s interests and some of his temperament, she also has her mother’s caring nature, she asks, reaching for her little sister’s hand. “Wanna try to go back to sleep? You can sleep in my bed.”

The offer to not have to sleep alone as well as having some one on one time with him seems to be enough to be enough to coax her back  to bed. He watches as the girls climb off his lap, the oldest taking the youngest hand, as she also handles the parting words, “goodnight, daddy.”

He offers a small smile. Their bond is something special. “Night, girls.” Hands still locked, they walk away, heading back up the stairs. “Love you.” He calls out after them. 

An almost synchronized response is what he’s met with. “Love you too, daddy.” 

It brings that warmth back to him, Roman blowing out a deep breath when it’s just him and the paused screen on the TV. He takes a couple minutes to sit on the weight of the conversation. 

He doesn’t like knowing that his daughter is struggling with thoughts. Hates that they haunt her in the form of dreams. He knows better than anyone how difficult that can be. How exhausting.

So does Solana.

Thoughts of his wife and wanting to get back to her before she notices his absence and wakes up, Roman shuts off the TV and starts heading upstairs.

Walking back into their bedroom, he’s only partially surprised to find Solana awake, sitting up against the headboard, their son on her chest for one of his nightly feedings. 

She gives him a sad, knowing smile. “Another bad dream?” 

Roman nods and goes to sit back in the bed next to her. “Found out what they’re about.”

Solana’s eyes widen a bit. “She told you?”

He shakes his head. “The other one did.” He frowns a bit, sharing, “she’s having thoughts and dreams of something happening to us. Me especially.” 

Solana’s frown is deep and concerned. Valid. “What? Where—Where did that come from?”

“Don’t know.” Roman answers. He’d have loved to been able to ask more questions, but it’s also the middle of the night and just getting some kind of answer is a huge win in and of itself. “But, I wanna schedule an appointment with her pediatrician. If something else is going on with her, we need to know.”

Roman has an idea of what it could be, now starting to put different pieces together. Her particular way of doing things, rituals of sorts, thoughts she can’t control. But, he wants to be sure.

“Of course,” Solana agrees. “I’ll call in the morning.”

Good. 

Roman chuckles after looking over at the clock on the nightstand. 3:59am. He glances at Solana, “and you really wanna do this all over again?”

He’s still partially stuck on the fact that even with three kids, Solana is still wanting more. 

The thought alone brings out a heavy sigh just from tonight’s events.

All three of their kids up and in need of something in the middle of the night like he and his wife don’t have work in the morning.

He can’t even really picture an additional child—or two–added into the mix. 

Solana, however, only smiles, rocking gently to help soothe their son. “Only with you, papi.” A beat. “Only with you.”

________

“No!”

Roman is awakened by movement and volume. Both of which effectively deter and distract him from yet another strange dream, a fantasy of some sort.

Or…..something more. 

Regardless, he has neither the time nor energy—nor desire—to think about that. Not with the woman violently stirring beside him. A nightmare. It’s obvious Solana is in the middle of a nightmare.

“No….” Twisting against the mattress, Roman sees the light sheen of sweat on her forehead. He frowns. How long has she been in the middle of this nightmare? “Get off me….”

At that, he stills a bit. With Solana’s extensive trauma, it’s pretty impossible to know just what specific traumatizing incident haunts her dreams and interrupts her sleep. But this….this one is pretty obvious. 

And it guts him.

He moves his hands to her shoulders. “Baby, wake up.”

She starts crying, and Roman isn’t quite sure how much worse and useless he can feel. “No. Please—please. You’re hurting me.”

There’s a heaviness in his chest as Roman deepens his voice and shakes her a little harder. “Solana, wake up.”

It seems the more he says it, the more she writhes and cries, trapped in the throes of trauma. Roman doesn’t want to be physical with her, doesn’t want to exacerbate an already difficult situation, but he can’t just sit here and watch her suffer. 

He moves his hands to her arms, restricting her just enough, raising his volume yet again. “Solana, it’s just a nightmare. Wake up.” He’s not entirely certain if it’s his escalation or just the natural progression, but she shoots up, eyes opening for the briefest second before slamming shut. 

And then, the climax.

Roman is taken back when she starts pushing and shoving him, but that surprise is easily weighed down with sympathy when she starts talking again. 

“Get off of me!” She cries, never once letting up on him.

He takes it all, her fists really of no consequence to him as he continues to try to break her from this torment. “Solana, please—”

“No!” She’s the one with the increased volume, Roman biting back a hiss as a sharp almost burning pain throbs in his shoulder, the area where he was shot. But, it’s irrelevant. His focus is on Solana and nothing else. 

“Baby, it’s me.” He’s no longer restraining her, letting her let it out on him as much as she needs to. Whatever she needs in this moment, he’ll give it to her. He’s not sure what else to do besides that, to be honest.

But, it’s when Roman manages to cup her face, again, repeating the hopefully calming, settling words, “it’s me” that seems to help break through to her. Blinking, wet eyes open, filled with fear. He studies her, watching her focus on him, as the fear starts to diminish. Replaced with recognition. “R–Roman?”

He nods, his own concern settling seeing her anxiety lessen. “Yes. It’s just me.”

She releases a shaky, emotional breath, clearly coming to grips with what just occurred. But, her gaze settling on his shoulder seems to bring back that previous level of horror. “Oh my god, I—I hurt you.” She slaps her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He looks down, realizing she must have ripped his stitches when she was hitting him, blood trickling down his skin. Roman is entirely unbothered. “Solana, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t seem to be hearing him, too focused on the unintentional thing she caused. “I hurt you…..” 

He lowers her hands from her face, kissing her inner palms. “Baby, it’s fine.” 

“I–I’m sorry. I–She closes her eyes, taking deep breaths, asking him in an unexpected calmer voice. “I—I need to stitch it back up for you.”

Roman shakes his head. “I can do th—”

But, she cuts him off, sounding a little bit more stable and a lot more desperate. “Roman, please?” 

Not wanting to risk upsetting her again, he shakes his head, allowing her to take the lead as she grabs his hand and guides him into their bathroom. Roman sits on the toilet and watches her silently move around, gathering the medical kit and other needed supplies. 

His eyes don’t leave her as she works carefully and tediously to stitch him back up, Roman partially thankful her focus is on something else versus the horrific memories that seemed to have been tormenting her the past couple hours. 

He wants to say something, do something to help her feel better, to especially rip away the guilt evident in her eyes at ‘hurting’ him.

Solana may be the only person on this earth capable of doing as such, but it could never be physically. 

Ever.

“I’m not crazy. I—I promise.” Her voice is shaky, unsteady by understandable emotion as she finishes up, starting to put the supplies back. “I just—I don’t know—”

Roman takes her hands in his. “Sol, I know you’re not crazy.” Feeling an unfamiliar sense of openness and vulnerability, he asks her, “do you know why I was able to help you with your panic attack that night?” Her eyes are lit with confusion as she shakes her head no. Roman’s jaw clenches. He’s never once told a soul what he’s about to share with her. “It’s because I used to have them.” 

Her reaction is exactly what he would expect from anyone to hear such words coming from him. 

“Wh—what?” 

Roman’s eyes divert to the wall beside her as he powers through the discomfort. “It was….it was after my family was killed. I’d have nightmares about it and wake up freaking the fuck out.” Just like her. “That’s when they’d happen.”

“But, I couldn’t tell anyone, because they were already questioning if I would be fit to lead.” He scoffs, “I had to be perfect. I couldn’t let anyone know how fucked up I really was from what happened.” 

He can only imagine that the softness in her voice matches the expression on her face. “Roman….” 

“But, I couldn’t keep dealing with the shit either, so I found this book at my school’s library about mental health and whatnot, and it had a section on panic attacks and how to cope with them. So, I studied and learned them. It’s been fine since then. Haven’t had one in years.” Though that similar budding feeling of panic that used to be present before they’d occur is something Roman’s noticed having versions of for almost the past two weeks.

Since he found out Solana tried to kill herself. 

She lifts her hand to his face, and he closes his eyes. He can feel it. Can sense it. Her sympathy or maybe something different. Maybe empathy. Regardless, he doesn’t want or need it. The point was to not bring attention to his fucked up past but rather help her reduce some of her self-judgment. 

He stands up, forcing her hand to fall down as he instead cups her face, looking and speaking directly at her. “You’re not crazy.” Far from it. And he needs her to know that. “You just….you need help.” His voice shifts into something softer. “And I’m going to make sure you get it.”

Her gaze also shifts. Something both hopeful and sad. “I–I can go?”

Roman only hesitates for a second. “Yes.” 

The answer he gives her is in no way indicative of how he feels about it. He still hates it. Hates the idea of her not coming home for good in three days and instead going to yet another treatment facility. This one longer and farther away.

But, if there’s anything the past few hours have taught him, have shown him, it’s that Dr. Stratus and Gail were right. 

And so was Solana. 

She’s not ready to come home. 

She needs more help.

And he can’t, won’t, be selfish. Won’t be too consumed by his own want and desire to have her back with him. Not when it directly contrasts what she needs. 

And what she needs is continued professional help. 

So, that’s exactly what she’s going to get. 

“I’ll talk to Stratus about what we need to do.” And that’s more so in regards to location solely, so Roman can get a head start on working on safety precautions for her. He’ll keep Bautista with her. That seems to be a good fit. 

Solana, however, is bubbling with emotion again. From a different source. For a different reason. 

She pushes herself into his chest, Roman easily dropping his hands to her waist, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.” It’s as he holds her, her face buried into his chest that she murmurs those three, sacred, terrifying words. “I love you.”

He closes his eyes. 

It’s one thing to read it but something entirely different to actually hear her say it. 

He doesn’t know how to respond, how to react, what to say. 

Even if does feel the same way. 

So, he says nothing. 

________

“You took her out of the hospital.”

“Sure fucking did.”

Roman has never been so unbothered while sitting in Dr. Stratus office as she paces across, visibly and audibly stressed the fuck out by what occurred. 

After agreeing to let her continue treatment at the other facility, Solana was finally able to get some sleep. Roman as well. Not a ton, of course, because he woke up to her spot in bed next to him vacant. Dulce missing as well.

And if not for the note left for him that read ‘fixing us breakfast <3’, he might have even panicked a bit. Just a smidgen. Of course she would spend time doing something for them rather than herself. It’s such a Solana thing.

Regardless, he enjoyed breakfast with her but hated to see the saddened expression on her face as she said goodbye to her puppy, Dulce’s ears dropping and the whimpering returning as she also picked up on the pending separation.

She’s also felt and been impacted by Solana’s absence. 

But, it’s a necessary absence. 

Solana needs help. 

And it’s that, that oh-so important reminder, Roman keeps repeating to himself as this blonde bitch continues to berate him like he’s a fucking child. 

“Who the hell are you to make that decision?” She continues, pointing at him. “You do not get to remove my patient from my care without speaking to me!”

“I did what I had to do for my wife. She needed to get the fuck out of here.” Roman is a man who doesn’t believe in explaining himself, but given the situation, he makes a small exception. For Solana. Only for her. “But, if you don’t lower your fucking voice, you won’t have to worry about her, or anyone else, being your patient because the dead can’t be fucking psychiatrists.”

Dr. Stratus closes her eyes and shakes her head. “At the very least, you could have just texted me what was going on.”

“Keeping you briefed wasn’t my priority.” At all. “Keeping my wife alive was.”

She opens her eyes, asking, “was she suicidal?”

“She said no.” Roman still isn’t entirely sure he believed her. She could have been telling the truth, but she also could have been lying for a lot of different reasons. Still, that’s not something he feels the need to share. “She said she talked about her rape earlier that day in therapy and was having….flashbacks.”

“Flooding,” Dr. Stratus informs. “It’s when a survivor experiences intrusive thoughts, images, and flashbacks of their trauma.” She then looks at him, almost surprised, “she called you?”

Roman nods. “Said the coping shit wasn’t working.”

The doctor plops back down into her seat, saying more to herself than anything. “Well, I suppose that’s a good sign. That she reached out to you versus….other things.” That’s exactly how Roman feels. “Regardless, in the future, at least let me know what’s going on. I would have told you to give her the Hydroxyzine. We could have seen if it’s helpful.”

Roman doesn’t disagree with her there. The thought of one of her medications potentially being helpful definitely crossed his mind. But, he’s not about to tell this woman that.

He’s got other things he needs to discuss.

“The facility you were telling me about….” Roman looks away, not eager to have this conversation but knowing he needs to. For Solana. “Tell me more.”

________

A loud, guttural, almost animalistic growl leaves Samantha’s mouth at the same time the glass plate is tossed against the wall, shattering and spilling into tiny little pieces all across her kitchen floor.

Not that it makes a difference.

Punching the fridge, she ignores the throbbing in her fist and ineffectively tries to manage her nerves, dissuading the burning urge within to scream. It’s been less than 24hrs since she regained the ability to speak, her jaw finally healed enough and no longer wired shut.

But, now she’s left with nothing but pent up emotion all directed toward one person.

Solana

That fat bitch ruined everything. She stole Roman from her. The man who she’s been with since she was a fucking teenager. The man she always imagined would be her husband and father of her children, who would make her his Queen of the Bloodline, but none of that will happen now.

It won’t happen because of that slashed face whore.

Because Roman chose her over him.

Which brings up unfamiliar feelings towards her former lover.

Roman is an asshole. Always has been. As long as she’s known him, he’s been a dick, so his cruel behavior at times toward her never really bothered her. That’s just his personality. She never took it personally. 

Not until now, at least.

Because now, it’s not just his wife she’s mad at, it’s Roman too.

Granted, her fury toward the troll is significantly worse.

She’d kill the bitch if she could.

“Rough day?”

Samantha nearly jumps across the room at the sound of another person’s voice. She instead is braced against the refrigerator as she lands eyes on the last person she expected to find in her place.

“Seth?”

It takes another second for her to register that it truly is the once friend of her former lover. He sits on her sofa wearing at least three different types of animal print that are all outlined in some kind of bling, hair looking as unkempt as his mental health. 

She’s sly in trying to move closer to the knife set on the counter.

Seth, however, is as perceptive as he is insane. She stills when he casually pulls out a gun. “Ah ah. I just want to talk to you. That’s all.” He makes a face, playing with the gun.“Word on the street is that you got dumped.”

Samantha’s eyes narrow a bit. How does Seth freakin Rollins of all people know about her ‘breakup’ with Roman? Only those close to Roman would know that, and there’s no way anyone close to Roman would be speaking to Seth……

Right?

“Who—”

“You’ll find out about the members of this little crusade once you agree,” he explains, placing the gun on the sofa beside him, casually viewing his nails that are painted a hideous green. Like the color of slime from Nickelodeon back in the day. “Can’t risk snitches, of course.”

More interested than anything, Samantha asks, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh, that’s right.” He giggles, standing up and pulling a flask out of what seems like nowhere. “We’re gonna kill Roman Reigns.” Seth takes a swig as Samantha’s eyes widen, before he adds on, as if he forgot. “And his wife, Sadie.”

“Solana?”

Seth shrugs “Yeah, she can get killed too. Why not?”

Samantha finally laughs, crossing her arms. “You’re even crazier than I realized. You can’t just kill, Roman.” It’s damn near impossible. Does he not know the mountain of bodies that have tried and failed at the very same thing he’s suggesting? “And there’s no way in hell he’ll let you get even close enough to kill that bitch wife of his.”

“Oh, that’s a lot easier than you think.” Seth takes the flask to his mouth again, voice teasing yet malicious. “The Bloodline is full of traitors.”

Samantha goes quiet, wondering how much of this is madness and just how much is true. It seems too asinine to be true. 

But, there’s also the fact that the only way Seth could have known about Roman leaving her was if someone within the Bloodline told him, which would most definitely make them a traitor. And even that feels almost impossible. Roman’s family is notoriously loyal. Who would want to betray him?

The plural form of the word ‘traitor’ is also something that catches her attention. 

Could there be more than one traitor?

Seth meanwhile seems to be in a sense of imaginative blood lust, practically squealing, “the infamous Roman Empire is going to be coming to a gloriously bloody, gory end, and we’re trying to see who all want to be a part of our little murderous, traitorous gang.” 

Again, she’s caught off guard, realizing just now he’s clearly referring to more than himself. “Gang?”

Seth tilts his head, pouting as he says almost mysteriously, “we both know your former lover has no shortage of enemies.”

That is dangerously true, but what’s even more dangerous is this suicide mission Seth is proposing.

“How is this supposed to be any different from any other time people have tried to kill Roman?” As much as she would love to see Solana’s life drain from her ugly ass face, Samantha would rather not lose her life in the process. 

Seth is way too excited to answer. “Because this time, the call is coming from inside the house.” Her eyes widen. “With a little….Nightmare help as well.”

There’s so much to process in that one bombshell of a sentence. “Someone in the Bloodline is orchestrating this?” Not to mention whatever role the Nightmare Factory is playing. That’s just salt on an open, gushing wound. 

This type of betrayal is bound to crush Roman.

Samanth smiles. 

Oh, revenge is so so sweet. 

“I’ll join, but on one condition.” Seth’s brow lifts, a sign he’s ready to hear out her caveat. “That I get to stab and kill that bitch Solana myself. I get to be the one to take her from Roman.”

At the vision alone, Seth’s mad smile grows followed by that crazy ass laugh. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.” He claps his hands together, nodding. “You got yourself a deal, curly.”

Samantha nods, pleased with the arrangement. 

Whoever previously took the knife to Roman’s little wife, causing all those ugly ass scars, failed to get the job done. 

Samantha won’t. 

She does have another question, shrugging. “So who all is a part of this shit anyway?”

She’s especially curious about who the traitor is.

Or traitors. 

Of course, it’s just more mental edging with the self-proclaimed visionary. “You’ll get to meet the gang soon enough, but we’ve got one more person to recruit.” Samantha’s curiosity is evident, prompted by Seth casually tossing the flask up and down with a wicked gleam in his empty eyes. “Can’t take down Roman Reigns without inviting his good ole’ pal Brock Lesnar to join in on the fun, now can we?”

[aesthetictarlos]

I don't think Buck has realised how much Tommy hides behind that confidence and coolness and smoothness he shows. Of course he knows there's a story there, knows about Gerrard and that Tommy doesn't talk to his parents but he doesn't know about his insecurities, about his past, yet.

Doesn't know that Tommy's fucking terrified because he might not have abandonment issues like Buck does, but a lot of people left him behind. He doesn't know that Tommy's still learning how to let someone in, how to let someone take care of him, how to be vulnerable. Doesn't know that Tommy still has nightmares from his time in the army, doesn't know that he's the first person to make Tommy feel like he matters, like he's worthy of love. Doesn't know that Tommy still struggles to show his emotions because no matter how many therapy sessions he attended, sometimes he still feels the need to bottle everything up and shove it down. Doesn't know that Tommy's insecure, too, that sometimes he looks at himself in the mirror and sees the asshole he was a few years back.

He's not being naive, it's just that Tommy's so cool and funny and sarcastic and he always knows what to say, what to do and they're still in the honeymoon phase and things are great and their bubble is so nice but then one day something bad happens and he would like to help, to be there for his boyfriend but he realizes that Tommy's holding back, because that's what he's used to doing. He takes care of himself, he hides and licks his wounds, because he's never had someone like Buck before.

Buck doesn't know what to do when his boyfriend clams and shuts down and barely talks to him. He doesn't know what to do when Tommy's distant but still looks at him fondly, doesn't know what to do when he wakes up in the middle of the night to Tommy's quiet sobs. He just reaches a hand out and brushes his palm up and down Tommy's back, soothing him as best as he can, and when the next morning Tommy crumbles in the middle of his kitchen while Buck is making them breakfast, Buck is right there, holding him up and holding him close.

He tells Tommy that he can be vulnerable with him, that he won't leave, that he wants everything, the good and the bad, and patiently listens to Tommy telling him that he doesn't know how to be vulnerable, because he never had someone picking up his pieces before. He listens as Tommy finally tells him about his father and his heavy hands on his tiny body, tells him about the screams he heard at night when their parents fought, tells him about the group homes he lived in because no one would want to foster or adopt a ten year old, tells him about the army and that one time he watched his co-pilot bleed out on the cold sand of the desert. Buck listens as Tommy tells him about Gerrard, and his early days at the 118 and the guilt that still eats him alive sometimes. Buck listens as Tommy tells him about his disastrous dates, about the first guy he hooked up with, a guy that wasn't as patient and soothing and delicate as Tommy has been with him when they had sex for the first time. Buck listens as Tommy bares his soul to him, crying his eyes out and handing him parts of him he kept hidden for years.

Buck listens to him patiently, and holds him, murmuring promises into his ears. I love you, all of you, even those parts you hate. I'm not going anywhere, I'll take care of you, I'll show you how much I love you every day. You are everything I've always wanted. I'm here, I got you, I have your back. I love you. I love you.

For the first time, in that kitchen, with Tommy still crying into his arms, Buck realizes that yeah, Tommy handed him the missing piece of his heart but he did the same for Tommy. He realizes that they healed each other, and there's a reason why it never worked with anyone else before.

[joelsgoldrush]

wip wednesday: "epiphany" (worst!logan x fem!reader)

third time lucky because i posted this twice with different passages and none of them seemed to satisfy the overachieving monster i am 👹 but let's forget that detail.

this fic is making me crazy... in a good way. i'm enjoying the whole process even though imposter syndrome's hitting harder than ever </3

thank you @moonlight-prose for tagging me 🫂💗

also tysm to @lubdubology because she’s an amazing beta (sorry for tagging you again and again 😭 don’t mind me)

He thought that not seeing you for a week would snuff out his feelings. That by next Wednesday, every thought tied to your name, every urge to uncover the last of your secrets, would be extinguished. That's what time usually did: it diminished dangerous desires that couldn't afford to be voiced, and buried those longings that had no place in the light of day. Logan now figures he’s been underestimating the spell you cast on him with just a few glances and the intensity of your eyes. He’s seen you animated, angry—both defiant and vulnerable. Each of your gestures feels like a memory he can’t quite place. The way you laugh, the right corner of your mouth lifting just slightly higher than the left—he swears it isn’t the first time he's seen a smile brighter than the sun. Still, he convinces himself it’s all in his head. He must be the one losing his mind, the years finally catching up to him. It’s the only reasonable explanation for the thoughts that consume his every waking moment. He’s wrong—you’re right. He’s seeing things where there are none—you’re simply too kind. Too kind. Too young. Too damn clever for your own good, with your books and that sharp mind of yours. He wonders how you see yourself. Do you like the reflection in the mirror? Are you content with the way your life has turned out? Do you, too, lie awake at night, the bed stretching endlessly, aching for a touch that never comes? The walls in this place are paper-thin. When darkness falls, and the moon rises, the big, scary Wolverine can’t close his eyes.  Instead, he listens.  You play the same movie on repeat—a romantic comedy that lasts exactly one hundred and twenty minutes. For two hours straight, he’s privy to your laughter, your commentary at the characters on the screen. He hears you cry when the lead couple drifts apart after a terrible argument, but they always find their way back to each other, and you watch every second until the credits roll. None of the other films you pick ever ends in heartbreak, he realizes. They all have happy endings—the kind you wish for yourself.

no pressure tags: @zloshy @princessanglophile @hauntedhowlett @wlwloverwrites + whoever wants to post sth they´ve written

[arctic-hands]

“We’ve got a problem, and the problem is that way too many people in Zone A aren’t listening,” said Bob Gualtieri, the sheriff in Pinellas County, which encompasses Clearwater and St. Petersburg, in a Thursday morning news conference. “We’ve been out there this morning, there’s just way too many people in the area.” Other local and state officials, including Gov. Ron DeSantis, warned residents to leave vulnerable areas before the massive storm unleashes a barrage of life-threatening conditions, including flooding rains and winds potentially as high as 131 to 155 mph Thursday night.

"If you're in an evacuation zone or you've been told to evacuate, you do have time to do it now – so do it. But don't wait another six hours, seven hours," DeSantis said early Thursday. Gualtieri said that while the county won’t face much danger from rain and wind, the barrier islands and low-lying coastal areas face 5 to 8 feet of storm surge. “This is dangerous. No question about it and it’s not something we’ve seen recently,” he said. “They’ve got to get out, and there’s going to reach a point where you’re on your own because we’re not going to get our people killed because you don’t want to listen to what we’re saying.” While nearly every county along the western coast of Florida has ordered evacuations, four of them, including Franklin,  Taylor, Liberty and Wakulla have ordered all residents in the county to leave. "This will not be a survivable event for those in coastal or low lying areas," Wakulla County Sheriff's Office Sheriff Jared Miller said in a Facebook post. "There has not been a storm of this magnitude to hit Wakulla in recorded history." A.J. Smith, the sheriff in Franklin County, said he's never seen as many residents evacuate before a hurricane as he has in recent days. He said, however, there were still people who decided to stay for various reasons. "I've said publicly that when the storm comes in and the weather's so bad that the first responders can't get out, you're on your own because we can't get to you," he said, adding: "If I wasn't sheriff, trust me – I wouldn't be here."

If you chose to stay or can't evacuate in time, might want to write down your information in sharpie on your arm so you can be identified if help can't come

[myobsessionsspace]

https://www.tumblr.com/myobsessionsspace/762706692393795584/hello-now-that-weve-seen-all-eight-episodes-and?source=share

I agree with your thoughts here, especially the end paragraph. It’s not about affirming their romantic bond (bc actually that’s private) but just how important they are to each other, and whilst I would call that a ‘soft launch’ (though I dislike the term), and I do think that’s what they are doing, I get what you mean too.

I guess I don’t view it with a Korean lens, mainly bc I don’t consume any Korean content outside of BTS. I don’t value or pretend to understand how they view pretending to be queer acceptable, but it’s not acceptable to be actually queer. It’s outrageous. However, how I did view it was through an Army lens. If I was an Army who didn’t pay attention to them as a duo, because they are hardly lauded over, what is this show? And my take away is that they are the closet. I know Army see it, it’s why we see so many cultists and shippers spiralling right now. I also watched it with friends and my partner and they all saw the closeness and my partner (who doesn’t know them bc I don’t usually talk to them about bts) is sure they are together, just from watching episode 4 and later on 8 (they thought it was gay porn at one point but I digress).

I think that’s their intention, i am sure of it, it’s been building since chapter 2 and before, but yes, we as supporters see all of it. Their history. But the turning point to me from chapter 2 is firstly the book, the documentary, letter, their linked concepts and then the show and finally the enlistment. It’s a culmination of things that highlight them, just them two, as a duo, as something more than just two members of a 7 member band. The documentary highlighted this the most at first, given they were the only two featured together, it seemingly important for JK to be with Jimin whilst he told his story, the way it was edited amongst other members showing their homes and how they live alone. It was interesting at the time, then the travel show made it clear.

It’s the why of it, not just that it makes sense for it to be them who does the show. But why they did it (beyond wanting to spend time together) because although it does allow them to hide behind everything you’d said about what’s out there in SK anyway, it was still incredibly brave of them to make themselves vulnerable by showing their bond in such a way.

The main reason being they just cannot hide their intimacy, and anyone with a brain or experience of relationships can see this. It’s not necessarily the naked times in the hot tubs, it’s the small things, the domestic nature of their relationship, the intimacy is clear there, it’s how they care and how they are with each other, and yes they don’t have to say it with words, you can see it. It’s show and not tell, and I do think they knew this and wanted to be seen. And maybe Koreans themselves won’t see it bc they are blindsided but a lot of I Army are, bc we are all fans and they know this reaches all who want to see it, I think that’s why the first trip is in the US too, bc they were allowed to be themselves there, anonymous almost and they chose LGBT friendly places for a reason.

Then the enlistment also speaks volumes to me, it was obvious it was incredibly private to them (bc they didn’t say why they did it) but that’s the point, this is their real life we are talking about. They aren’t in in there as JK and JM of BTS, they are Jimin and Jungkook of Busan, fulfilling their duty as SK citizens. And they have gone together because they are each others safe space and home and this is what the show showed us, the why. Why they have done what they did. It lays it out for when they return, hopefully explains it to those who didn’t know or see how truly close they are, and hopefully they will be respectful of that.

That was my take away.

in response to this

Omg Yesss

Thank you lovely, for taking the time to put down your thoughts 🤌

💜

[birdiebirdjay]

Correct me if I'm wrong but Severus Snape was an abused, vulnerable child who was harassed by the 'good guys' for a large part of his life and joined the Death Eaters likely because there was nowhere else for him to go. He turned away from the dark and back to the light because of his love for his dead friend/almost sister, but that doesn't make his sacrifice any less heroic, does it? I mean he was a 20(?) year old who basically sold the rest of his life away in devotion to the light side.

Regulus Black was a kid from a rich, aristocratic blood purist family who was proud and happy to join up with the death eaters at 16. He was a misguided child, yes, but he went through with it happily when he had different options (going with Sirius) and probably did a whole lot worse than call someone a mudblood. I'm pretty sure he had a whole fangirl poster of Voldemort in his room or something, but I may be misremembering that. The only reason he betrayed Voldemort was because Voldemort hurt his house elf, and when it comes down to it, he died a pretty worthless death. His heart was most definitely in the right place and he did what he could, but there were... smarter ways to go about things, to say the least. In canon, this is more or less all we know about him. He was loved and adored by his parents, and for all we know, he never changed his views on muggleborns and muggles.

Why is one of them creepy and obsessive and weird for their love, while the other one is a 'soft baby' who is adored by Marauder stans?

[prettygirl-gabi]

I'll be home soon

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Hiii every thank you for reading this mini series I hope you all enjoyed. I wanted to do something for Jeonghan going to the military I wasn’t going to do so, but I felt it in ny heart that it needed to be done. Our sweet, beautiful angel 😇 will be waw front us for two years but it's for a good reason (he doesn't go to jail).... he's serving his country and we will continue to love and wait on him because he and the members deserve to be loved and waited on... as each member go on their journey it'll only be a short while before we are truly whole again!

"It will be okay... Like the hands on a clock, it will find its place again after going in circles."- Seventeen's Circles

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Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, sadnesss through and through, happy ending

Category:F/M¹³

Fandom:Seventeen (SVT) (boyband)

Relationships: !idol S.coups x f reader, !idol Jeonghan x f reader, !idol Joshua x f reader, !idol Jun x f reader,!idol Hoshi x f reader, !idol wonwoo x f reader, !idol woozi x f reader, !idol dk x f reader, !idol The8 x f reader, !idol Mingyu x f reader, !idol Seungkwan x f reader, !idol Vernon x f reader, !idol Dino x f reader.

Summary: Seventeen doesn't want to say goodbye, you dont wanna say goodbye. None of us do but it's Jeonghan's time for his mandatory enlistment.

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Hey everyone! Welcome to the 2nd bouns installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

I wake up to the feeling of warmth pressed against my back. The soft hum of breathing fills the air as I shift slightly under the covers. I know without opening my eyes that it’s Mingyu. His arms are wrapped securely around me, and even though he’s fast asleep, there’s a quiet reassurance in his hold. It's like he's trying to tell me that everything will be okay, even though nothing feels okay right now.

I glance at the clock. 6:15 AM. Jeonghan leaves in forty-five minutes.

The lump in my throat swells as I turn to look at the other side of the bed. Jeonghan’s not there. The space where he usually sleeps is empty, the sheets cold. A small sigh escapes my lips as I quietly slip out from Mingyu’s hold, careful not to wake him. I make my way out of the bedroom, the sound of my feet padding softly against the floor.

The living room light is on.

There, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, is Jeonghan. His hair falls over his face, hiding the tiredness in his eyes that I know is there. He’s been dreading this day for months. Hell, *we’ve* been dreading it. Every time the topic of his military enlistment came up, the atmosphere between us would shift, turning from light-hearted conversations to heavy silence.

"Hey," I whisper, not wanting to startle him. He lifts his head and gives me a small, tired smile.

"Couldn’t sleep," he mutters, his voice hoarse. I walk over to him, sitting down next to him on the couch. The space between us feels suffocating, like it holds every unsaid word, every unspoken fear.

"Me neither," I admit, reaching for his hand. His fingers intertwine with mine, squeezing just a little too tightly, as if he's afraid to let go.

“I don’t want to leave you all.” His voice cracks, and the raw vulnerability in it makes my heart ache. He’s always been the one who held us together, the one who teased us, made us laugh, and softened the edges when things got hard. But now, the cracks in his armor are showing, and I don’t know how to fix them.

"I know," I whisper. "I don’t want you to leave either."

He lets out a bitter chuckle. "It's not fair, is it? Just when everything is perfect…"

Perfect. It feels like such an impossible word right now. I think about the nights spent curled up in bed with all of them—Seungcheol’s steady presence, Joshua’s gentle kisses, Wonwoo’s quiet affection, and the rest of them who made my heart feel so full it might burst. And now, Jeonghan, a crucial part of us, is leaving.

I feel the tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to let them fall. I have to be strong for him. For all of us.

“You’ll come back,” I say, trying to sound reassuring, though the words feel hollow. “And we’ll all be here, waiting for you. You're our home and we're yours.”

Jeonghan leans his head against mine, his breath warm on my skin. “Two years is a long time.”

“I know.”

A long silence stretches between us, the weight of the next two years heavy in the air. We’ve talked about this before, about how we’ll all stay connected, writing letters, video calls whenever he can. But it won’t be the same. The empty space in our bed, the missing voice during movie nights, the absent laughter during game nights—it’ll be felt every single day.

“I’ll miss you,” I whisper, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay composed.

Jeonghan turns to face me, his eyes searching mine. “I’ll miss you too. All of you. More than you can imagine.”

Before I can respond, I hear footsteps behind us. Mingyu, followed by Seungcheol and Joshua, walk into the living room. They must have woken up when I left. Mingyu looks at us with a tired, pained expression, his eyes red from lack of sleep. He sits down on the other side of Jeonghan, wrapping an arm around him in silence.

“I hate this,” Mingyu murmurs, his voice barely audible. Seungcheol sits down on the floor in front of Jeonghan, looking up at him with a steady, reassuring gaze.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” Seungcheol says, his deep voice full of conviction. “We’ll get through this together. Just like always.”

Jeonghan lets out a soft laugh, though it’s more of a breath. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” Joshua says softly, taking Jeonghan’s other hand. “But we’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

We sit there together for what feels like hours, even though it’s only minutes. No one says much, but the weight of everything unsaid hangs heavily in the room. I try to memorize every part of this moment—the warmth of their bodies close to mine, the sound of their breathing, the way Jeonghan’s hand feels in mine, strong yet fragile.

And then, too soon, it’s time.

Seungcheol helps Jeonghan to his feet, and Mingyu grabs the small bag he’s packed. The silence is deafening as we walk him to the door. Jeonghan turns to face us one last time, his eyes scanning over each of us as if he’s trying to take us all in, to remember us just as we are.

“I’ll come back,” he says, his voice strong but laced with emotion. “I promise.”

Mingyu lets out a quiet sob, and I can feel my own tears finally spill over. Jeonghan steps forward, pulling us all into one last hug. The embrace is warm, tight, and filled with a desperation none of us are willing to admit.

“I love you,” he whispers, and it feels like the words are being carved into my heart. “I love you all.”

“I love you too,” I manage to choke out, and the others follow with their own murmurs of affection.

And then, just like that, he’s gone.

---

The next two years are hard. Some days are better than others. There are moments where I can almost forget the hole Jeonghan’s absence left behind. But then there are nights where I wake up, reaching for him, only to remember that he’s not here.

We keep in touch as much as we can. Letters, video calls when his schedule allows. But it’s not the same. It never will be.

But we get through it. Seungcheol, Joshua, Mingyu, the others—they make it bearable. We lean on each other, finding comfort in the small moments, in the knowledge that we’re all in this together.

And then, one day, the wait is over.

It’s a quiet afternoon when the front door opens, and there he is—Jeonghan, standing in the doorway, looking exactly the same and yet somehow different. My heart stops for a moment, and then I’m running toward him, throwing myself into his arms.

He laughs, the sound warm and familiar, and suddenly, everything is okay again. The others join us, and soon we’re all piled on top of each other, a tangle of limbs and laughter and tears.

“I told you I’d come back,” Jeonghan says, his voice full of warmth and relief.

“Yeah,” I say, burying my face in his chest, feeling his heart beat steadily against mine. “You did.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the people I love, I know that everything is going to be okay.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Posting my tags in a previous post (although I meant to say “colors emotions doesn’t make him underestimate killer or stop him from defending himself” so basically color wont pull a swap and take killers “crying” and pretending to give up fighting at face value enough to be stabbed in the eye like swap was) here because I wanna hear the people’s thoughts.

killers control or be controlled concept of relationships, the difference between conditioned vs willing submission due to trust and the struggle for control & avoidance of vulnerability vs the growing realization of a desire to be cared for deep down and struggling with to understand if that makes him weak or not, the difference of wielding and use of strength and power.

the way killer would likely resist against the willing submission at first—unable to understand or trust those urges, and likely experiencing derealization even when color is taking care of him because it feels good and he can’t trust it or accept that it’s real or genuine and happening for no other reason than because color cares and struggling to get his body’s reactions back under control—not wanting color or anyone else to see that. but even the dissociation is like a pleasant, hazy dream—a good dream.

can see him slipping in and out of the haze—because colors touch is grounding him but also is too gentle, confusing and disorienting him—blinking and shaking in his head like trying to fight off sleep. and of course color would notice and would probably ease up on being too overwhelming too much, probably pull back and focus on healing killer.

[iguessitsjustme]

I don't think Diew is getting enough credit for how good of a communicator he has been this entire show. I know God is upset right now because he thinks Diew is just going along with him and isn't saying when he doesn't want to do something, but we have been shown time and time again that Diew does not do things that he does not want to do.

From the very beginning, Diew has had no problem establishing firm boundaries. It's the main reason that we all call God a giant green flag. Because some of Diew's boundaries could have been ignored and called ridiculous, but they never were. God went out of his way to make sure he did not see Diew face to face because he knew Diew was not ready for that. And he knew Diew was not ready for that because Diew had clearly communicated and established his comfort level.

We even see it outside of their relationship when Diew tells Jane no. Even after being pressured by her. Even after she bullies him. He tells her no. He also tells her that he does not view friendship the same way she does and he's perfectly happy with the few close friends he has.

Diew and God had a wonderful conversation last episode when God was making Diew uncomfortable with how he was treating him while on their vacation. Diew waited until an appropriate moment when they were alone to bring it up and God sat and listened. Even if he felt a little defensive because no one wants to be the reason their loved one is uncomfortable, he listened, he apologized and he fixed it.

Which is why it was so painful to see Diew incapable of communicating to God when it came to Dr. Pee. We all watched those flashbacks and know how poorly Diew was treated by that man. But I think the most telling thing for how badly it affected Diew and how much he still struggles with it is that he did not tell God. Not because he didn't want to, but because that hurt is still so deep that he could not.

God has every right to be upset. Not only does he have Pee telling him falsehoods about Diew and how Diew just goes along with whatever which tugs and one of God's insecurities, but God also does know that Diew lied about how Pee was to him. That one little lie that Pee was just a senior opened the door for God to believe what Pee told him. Despite all of the communication that those two have had, one little worm of doubt found it's way into God's brain and now he doesn't know if he can trust Diew's feelings for him. God still fully trusts Diew, but he doesn't know if Diew truly loves him or loves Pee. We all know, but God does not. And when God gave Diew the opportunity to say anything and Diew did not, the worm buried itself deeper. Then buried itself deeper still when God called out Diew on his lie and made assumptions about the bracelet and instead of telling him anything, Diew left.

What I love about this conflict is there is no right or wrong person. They are both flawed human beings that are hurting because they love each other but they don't know how to approach this issue yet. Because Diew is traumatized by Pee and is shutting down whenever he has to be vulnerable because of Pee but God has no way to know that. So it just seems like Diew is shutting him down and shutting him out. Were there ways that both of them could have avoided this conflict? Absolutely. Diew could have said "This is a hard topic for me to talk about. I want to tell you but I need time to be ready." God could have not made assumptions about the bracelet being given to Diew by an ex. But that's not who they are. They are both flawed and beautiful and in love and sometimes being in love makes things certain things harder and makes people behave irrationally.

But I fully believe that these two can get through this. Please don't break up. And once they make it through this conflict, they will have a better understanding of each other and will know exactly how to handle similar conflicts going forward. Because that's the thing about this conflict. They need to work through it as a team. As partners. And if any couple can do that, God and Diew can.

[hwnglx]

Do you think idols lose their sense of identity specially those who got into the industry in a young age. Can they make out on who they were before becoming an idol? Or not?

love this question! thing here is.. if they enter the industry at a very young age; it's highly likely for them to not even have a set identity in the first place. one of the (many) reasons why i get uncomfortable seeing minors debut.

i just don't think the industry is the right place for them.. at all. they're being shoved into an adult world, forced to somehow not lose themselves in the harsh and draining pressures and expectations the industry just descends onto them.

think about it; you're in the midst of developing your personality, so you're extremely vulnerable to people's opinions of you -> you basically see yourself through the eyes of others.

many of the younger or more impressionable idols will absorb people's, so often completely superficial and subjective, often just groundless, opinions of them, and subconsciously turn it into their identity. and therefore get obsessed about avoiding disappointing people. i also think the harsh conditions of being a kpop trainee at too young of an age can get immensely unhealthy on their mental state.

someone like jk, literally dedicated so much, if not the entirety of his most precious years for self-identity development, to being this “perfect” idol who had to work twice as hard as other kids his age, that he naturally started feeling like he needs be at level 10 all the time. he is a double virgo, so it comes to him very naturally. but i still see a lot of his past experiences as a young trainee shaping him into almost too extreme of a hard worker, who doesn't know any else..

someone like ni-ki, still can struggle knowing himself outside of work-mode, because that's all he really knew since he was a kid. he's so business-minded, incredibly professional for his age. but he can still feel awkward when not working, he's essentially still getting to know himself outside of that.

idols who started at an older, more stable and developed age, for sure can have an easier time with this. they had a personal life as teens or young adults before idol-life, therefore know themselves outside of that role. they're better at separating their idol-self and “real” self behind the scenes.

[markantonys]

considering i've become an avid galadriel/adar shipper when they've only had a few scenes together all told, it's interesting to look at them to pick out the key ingredients of what is most likely to get me hooked on an enemies-to-lovers and specifically a hero/villain ship. yes you guessed it, i'm gearing up for a compare/contrast with mat/tuon, who had abundant screentime and yet sucked absolute ass throughout all of it in my opinion. i AM an enemies-to-lovers & hero/villain shipper at heart, so honestly a writer has to actively try pretty hard to make me dislike one, and boy did RJ put every ounce of his effort into the task lmao

anyway, some of The Key Ingredients Of Compelling Hero/Villain, To Me (many of which i remember discussing with @butterflydm during her queen of attolia read, since gen/attolia are also a well-done example of hero/villain and hit on a lot of these same ingredients, though i'll keep this post to comparing just the other 2 ships for the sake of not yapping even more than i already am)

1. equal power balance

whether it be in terms of rank, influence, physical fighting abilities, intelligence, whatever, i like it best when the Hero & Villain we're shipping can go toe-to-toe with each other, and when they take turns holding the power in a given situation. among galadriel and adar's few scenes, we've had a good mix between galadriel having the upper hand and adar having the upper hand. we've even had scenes where who has the upper hand switches mid-scene (such as galadriel holding adar captive but then adar verbally getting under her skin and unnerving her).

by contrast, tuon ALWAYS has the upper hand over mat in all their scenes. always always always. RJ had a weird aversion towards letting tuon be put in a vulnerable position or letting her be genuinely challenged, and so all the time they spend together is tuon treating mat like a pet dog and mat going along with it because he's desperate to win her favor (contrary to all his established characterization). this does not make for a compelling, narratively tense hero/villain ship buildup; it's a boring, static dynamic that gives you secondhand embarrassment for mat and his utter lack of self-respect. what makes it even worse is that the natural dynamic SHOULD be an equal one, because pre-COT mat is just as clever as tuon, just as stubborn, just as strong (physically and mentally), and because tuon holds the cards when they're on her turf in ebou dar but mat should logically hold the cards when they're on HIS turf in the roadtrip. but for whatever reason, RJ just........ignored all that and made tuon bizarrely infallible and butchered mat's characterization to make him tuon's yes-man and rob their dynamic of all its natural balance and conflict and push-and-pull tension.

2. mutual respect

this goes hand-in-hand with point #1. when you start with a pair of enemies who hate and oppose each other, the best ingredient to use as that first foundation layer to begin building romance off of is a grudging mutual respect. adar and galadriel may hate each other, but they take each other seriously and consider each other a force to be reckoned with, which ties back to them having an equal power balance.

and on a more personal level, adar does seem to have some true respect for galadriel, seen in moments like him greeting her formally in elvish and being surprisingly polite to her and serving her up a nice dinner (though of course he's also trying to butter her up so she'll confide her plans in him; still, there is an element of genuineness in his behavior, it's not all manipulation the way sauron's interactions with everyone are). and sam has said in interviews that adar respects her and in some ways craves her respect too since she represents his lost place among his fellow elves.

not sure if galadriel has any respect for him haha but his s1 line "i'm not the only elf who's been transformed by darkness" really hit her hard and their s2 convo about sauron added to that, so that she does see how he holds up a mirror to her, i think, and in that, there's sooome amount of, if not respect, at least recognizing common ground (more on that in point #4). she also may have gained some respect for him in this week's episode after seeing him at the orc funeral (more on that in point #3). and i'd say that to me, Villain respecting Hero early on is more important than the reverse, especially if we're gearing up for a "Hero inspires Villain to be better" version of hero/villain romance rather than a "Villain makes Hero worse" version. (for me the latter version feels better-suited to tragedies or dark romance stories or fanfic, whereas the former version is more thematically and tonally appropriate for an in-canon romance in something like ROP or WOT, stories that at their core are about hope and light triumphing over darkness. thinking more about mat/tuon on this point since obvs adar/galadriel isn't and will never be an actual in-canon romance, but mat/tuon is and thus it should feel thematically and tonally compatible with the overall canon story.)

anyway, mat and tuon do not have mutual respect. tuon considers him a joke and a toy for a looooong chunk of their acquaintance, only realizes "huh maybe he's an actual person with a brain?" when she sees that he has a big army willing to follow him, but even then, this does not change her behavior towards him in any way and she continues to treat him like her lapdog who will never even think of disobeying her. and mat IS that lapdog who will never think of disobeying her, because RJ decided to remove his spine between WH and COT. mat does "respect" tuon but only in a warped sense of "i need to appease her at all times or else she might enslave me" (and that's on his good days; on his bad days he genuinely buys into the "the empress is inherently superior to lesser mortals" bullshit). mat's "respect" is borne from fear and author contrivance and OOC writing, and tuon doesn't respect him at all. and so the power imbalance and the respect imbalance sets us up perfectly for a "Villain makes Hero worse" version of a hero/villain romance, aka the opposite of what would feel thematically and tonally appropriate with the story of WOT.

3. witnessing each other's vulnerability (especially Hero, and audience, witnessing Villain's vulnerability)

bold, star, and underline this point because it is ESSENTIAL. in order for Hero and Villain to start viewing each other differently, they MUST be allowed to see each other be vulnerable. they must be allowed to see the walls come down and gain a new understanding of the other person from it. otherwise how could they ever have a reason to second-guess their hatred and start changing their opinion of their enemy?

once again, adariel passes with flying colors in only a few brief scenes. a lot of stuff gets laid bare in their conversation about how sauron hurt both of them (even if they're both being careful in what they choose to say or keep hidden), but the moment that made me most insane was this week when galadriel is sneaking through the camp and, unbeknownst to adar, witnesses him crying over fallen orcs and partaking in a tender funeral ritual. the "unbeknownst to adar" aspect is so key, because unlike their sauron convo, adar isn't putting on any masks or curating what he wants her to see or hear. it's just his pure, unfiltered vulnerability which galadriel gets to see, and we can see that it really surprises her and gives her pause, and perhaps does a little something to change the way she sees him and orcs more broadly.

and once again, mat and tuon fail spectacularly. it comes back to RJ's aversion to letting tuon ever be placed in a position of vulnerability. mat never gets to witness her as anything but the cool, controlling empress. he never gets to see behind her mask. and the audience doesn't really either, because even in her own POV, even in her own head, tuon is constantly masked-up and rarely reveals vulnerability. so we aren't given evidence to suggest that tuon is a real person under the mask and might be worthy of loving and being loved, and we CERTAINLY don't see MAT being given any evidence to suggest that. he just randomly decides he loves her for no reason when all he's ever seen from her is arrogance and coldness and shitty treatment of all the people around her including himself.

4. some point of emotional connection/common ground that transcends the battle lines they've drawn with each other

galadriel and adar have both loved and then been hurt and used by sauron. for galadriel especially with the pain being so fresh, all season we see how hard it is for her to cope with and we see that no one around her really gets it, not even her closest friend, but the convo with adar - she's having her pain understood and validated and shared for the first time, and that's huge. as the actors have said, it's also a very depressing and fucked up point of commonality to have as the thing tying them together haha but having that initial trigger for an emotional common ground is important in making it possible for the relationship to evolve into something less hostile. (which does not happen in canon, but it's easy to see a path where it could.)

i feel like mat and tuon enjoying playing stones together and bonding with olver is RJ's attempt to do this, but considering how incredibly vast the ocean between them is and how polarly opposed each is to everything the other stands for, those points of commonality are way too shallow to create a connection meaningful enough to begin bridging that gap in a believable way. because TRUE emotional connection has to come from vulnerability, and RJ never lets tuon be vulnerable!

that's all i've got for now! thankfully, most of these problems are not hard to fix and i have faith wotshow will do so, given how good it is at characterwork and relationship development and emotional stuff. also, worth noting that a big factor in my galadriel/adar shipping is simply that the actors have amazing chemistry (it never occurred to me to ship galadriel and joseph's adar even though they acted brilliantly opposite each other - their barn scene was my favorite moment of the season - but i INSTANTLY shipped galadriel and sam's adar because they just have a different sort of spark between them), and so casting alone could do a heck of a lot of legwork for mat/tuon. donal!mat is sooooooo charming and shippable, i truly look forward to seeing a tuon who sparks really well off him!

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

People don’t listen to warnings.

It’s a thing.

For a while I became obsessed by a video recorded on the day of the 2004 Southeast Asian tsunami. It shows an older white guy, probably a tourist, standing on the beach in Thailand watching as the water recedes and the tsunami comes into view. As people run, as the wave grows, he just stands there. People start shouting at him, desperately pointing to the wave, trying to warn him. The wave grows, rushing closer and closer. Even now when I watch this video I still think he’s going to move. Of course he never moves. He doesn’t move an inch. The wave comes ashore and swallows him. —Nate Bear, “Staring at The Tsunami”

Every time a hurricane hits, some people choose to stay even if they have the resources to leave. In fact, research indicates that 35-50 percent of residents leave during mandatory evacuation warnings. During Hurricane Ian in 2022, about 62 percent of residents evacuated. Evacuation orders only increase someone’s willingness to evacuate by about 4-6 percent. When governments aggressively enforce evacuation orders in dangerous areas, 90 percent comply.

The rest of them stay.

According to one study, about 60-70 percent of those who don’t evacuate have said it’s because they don’t have anywhere to go and can’t afford a hotel. That group includes the unemployed, the homeless, and the vulnerable. During Hurricane Helene, thousands of inmates have been left behind.

What about the ones who can leave?

These numbers line up with the rest of our problems. Time and again, about 60 percent of us listen to warnings. Many people want to listen but don’t have the resources to protect themselves. About 10-20 percent have the resources, but they refuse to take warnings seriously.

They’re the hurricane headbanger, but not as famous.

I’ve got a feeling that the hurricane headbanger can take care of himself, but there’s a large portion of the population who thinks they can take care of themselves when they can’t. This group routinely shrugs off warnings. When things get really bad, they soak up resources that should go to the ones who really need them, the ones who can’t evacuate, the ones who can’t protect themselves.

We’re not here to make light of natural disasters. We’re here to understand why, as we face an increasing number of devastating threats, a growing number of people don’t want to take them seriously. There’s a range of theories, including what Neil Weinstein called unrealistic optimism, the notion that people routinely believe bad things are more likely to happen to someone else.

Here’s another theory:

A psychologist at Duke University named Jack Brehm figured out this problem in the 1960s. He called it reactance. He published a handful of articles about it followed by a book titled A Theory of Psychological Reactance. His book inspired 60 years of research on the topic. It even informed the popular psychological trick known as reverse psychology. Brehm discovered something you've seen a lot over the last few years. When you try to influence someone's actions, they resist. When people feel a threat to their perceived independence, they get angry.

They try to restore their freedom.

They might ignore the warning. They might make fun of you. They might pitch a fit. They might punch you in the face.

It depends.

Reactance means that the ones who don’t listen to warnings perceive the loss of their freedom as the greatest threat of all.

They protect it at all costs.

Everyone has their own reactance scale. It lives on a spectrum. At one end, you have collectively minded people. They tend to focus on the greater good. They're more likely to give up certain freedoms if it means avoiding death and destruction. On the other end, you have rugged individualists who see almost every warning or suggestion as a threat to their personal freedom.

Here's the weird part:

An individualist will get angrier if a friend or relative tries to influence their behavior in a way that threatens their sense of personal freedom.

They're also more likely to resist advice or information coming to them through anyone promoted as an expert or authority figure. You'd think the opposite would be true, that individualists would be more inclined to listen to people among their ingroup. Nope, their thinking isn't rooted in logic.

It's rooted in narcissism.

The harder you try to influence them, the worse it gets.

They only become more aggressive.

Brehm found that you can't even do a favor for someone on the extreme end of the reactance spectrum. They feel pressure to return the favor.

They hate that.

People can also feel vicarious reactance.

In other words, they'll get angry if they see someone else getting angry about perceived losses to their personal freedom. They'll defend someone else's right to do something stupid, simply because it's their right.

Censoring or restricting someone's freedoms can often enhance the attractiveness of that freedom. It's the forbidden fruit at work. Take something away, and that's suddenly all they want to do. Tell them to wear a seatbelt. Tell them smoking is bad for them. Suddenly, it's the cool thing to do.

You can trigger someone's reactance overtly by using controlling language. But you can also trigger it indirectly, even accidentally. If someone happens to associate a request or a warning with something negative in their life, like a controlling spouse, then they're less likely to listen.

A lot of people get a real kick out of ignoring warnings. They enjoy disregarding advice from experts. They love harassing and ridiculing those of us who do take threats and warnings seriously.

It elevates them.

Individualists only tend to take warnings seriously when a threat becomes absolute. They wait until the volcano erupts. They wait until the waves crash ashore. They wait until the flames lick their skin. Only then do they react, and it's usually a panic-driven response to save themselves. They don't do anything to help anyone else, and their panic causes problems for everyone else.

There's a cultural component.

You see less reactance in more collectivist societies. You see more reactance in individualist societies. I think we can all agree that western countries, especially the U.S., pride themselves on their individual freedoms. Every single day, Americans celebrate their right to act stupid and do dangerous things.

It's getting to be a real pathology over here.

So, what can you do?

The research suggests you have to be as indirect and neutral as possible when trying to influence someone's behavior.

Even then, you might fail.

Again, it depends. You can be direct with some people. And with others, there's pretty much nothing you can do. You just have to leave them alone. We've seen how well neutral, indirect attempts work at getting individualists to change their behavior. Maybe you'll avoid making them angry, but they'll likely just ignore you, even laugh at you. So as we stare down more threats, along with all the other consequences of an overheated planet, don't be shocked at all the reactance you see. Don't be surprised when you see people wanting to cuddle with birds and drink unpasteurized milk, simply because someone told them it's a bad idea right now. By trying to help someone, you triggered their reactance. I wrote the first draft of this post a year ago. Since then, as predicted, sales of raw milk jumped 21 percent after reports of bird flu in milk samples earlier this year.

If there’s no hope of convincing some of these people, then we have to do the next best thing. We have to push back. We have to limit their influence on others, to try to contain the damage. We live in a society that spends far too much time platforming, rewarding, and catering to the reactance crowd. We give them too much credibility, which they’ve used to virtually destroy our institutions.

People don’t listen to warnings.

It’s a thing.

[goddamnitlopori]

ALZ-113 immunity in the world of KotPotA, a ramble

If some humans are immune to the ALZ-113, then it would stand to reason that some apes would be too. Plus, normal/speaking humans born to feral humans and feral humans born to normal humans.

After so many generations and speaking apes forgetting their roots, a regular ape as we know them might be assumed to be learning disabled. "This is our son James, he's a little slow, only knows very basic signs" *perfectly normal gorilla who irl humans today would revere as impressively intelligent*

This hypothetical gorilla has nothing wrong with him, he only stands out because everyone around him has humanlike intellect. Throw him into a typical gorilla group and he would thrive.

These genetic anomalies, human or ape, are normal for what they are, but the environment would be working against them. An immune human born to ferals would go through a tarzan situation, not really given the means to live up to their potential. And if they don't find speaking humans, they would be better off raised by speaking apes! A feral human born to normal humans would get on fine with other ferals, they're just another type of person.

Would regular apes end up forming their own groups elsewhere? Or, maybe, in the immediate years following the virus' initial spread, lack of knowledge about life in the wild would've killed them off and so they would be selected against in future generations. UNLESS: they are cared for by the speaking apes, as a vulnerable class. Given easier jobs that sort of thing. Maybe much less likely to reproduce with speaking apes, they wouldn't be as attractive. But with eachother? Maybe.

I assume some remote wild populations had never caught the virus in the first place. Making first contact with a speaking ape, a few centuries in would be a life changing experience for both of them. Especially if the speaking ape assumed that immune apes had a condition, outside the norm. But here are a whole healthy population of them, going about life as normal! Having children! Who likely just as freaked out by the speakers.

That's it that's my ramble.

[dracomalfoy7]

Sore Loser

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Y/N comes back to the dorm to see Fred who just lost a quidditch team to her house.

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Kissing, Sexual Activity Implied (18+) sorta?

A/N: You guys if I could I'd write the smut you deserve. P.S Request are open!

The dorm was eerily quiet as you made your way through the dimly lit halls of the castle. It was late, and most of the students were either still celebrating in the Slytherin common room or had turned in for the night. You could hear the muffled sounds of cheers and laughter echoing through the walls from the victory party still raging below, but it didn’t interest you. You had your own reason to celebrate, and it wasn’t in the common room.

Fred.

The image of him, his face tight with frustration, flashed through your mind. He had taken the loss hard—harder than you expected. Quidditch matches were always intense between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but this time, the stakes had been higher. Both houses had been tied for the House Cup, and now, thanks to Slytherin’s victory, the Cup was yours.

Fred was proud, competitive, and a Gryffindor through and through. He hated losing—especially to Slytherin, especially to you. The two of you had always had a tense rivalry on the field, but that rivalry spilled into something else off the pitch—something fiery and uncontrollable.

As you pushed open the door to his dorm, you found him exactly as you expected—sitting on the edge of his bed, shoulders tense, his head in his hands.

“You’re here,” he muttered without looking up, his voice low and edged with frustration.

“I am,” you replied, closing the door softly behind you. You took a tentative step closer, trying to gauge his mood.

Fred finally looked up, his eyes dark and filled with a mixture of anger and something else—something deeper. “Came to rub it in, did you?” His words were sharp, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in them, the kind that only you ever saw.

“I didn’t—”

“Because if you did, you can leave,” he interrupted, standing abruptly. His height and presence loomed over you, but you didn’t flinch. You had faced him on the Quidditch pitch before, and you weren’t going to back down now. Not from this.

“I’m not here to rub it in,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “I’m here because I wanted to see you.”

Fred scoffed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Why? To tell me how brilliant your Seeker was? Or how my Keeper was shite today?”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the tension radiate from him. His heart was pounding beneath your palm. “No, Fred. I’m here because I knew you’d be upset. I just wanted to be here with you.”

He looked down at your hand on his chest, his jaw clenched. “I hate losing to you,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still filled with that same frustration.

You smirked despite the heaviness in the air. “I know. But you’ll get over it.”

Fred’s eyes snapped back to yours, the tension between you crackling like electricity. “You think it’s that easy?”

“No,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest slowly, teasing. “I think it’ll take more than a few minutes.”

Before you could say anything else, Fred’s hands were on you—rough, desperate, pulling you closer. His lips crashed against yours in a heated, bruising kiss, all of his anger and frustration spilling out. You kissed him back with equal force, your fingers tangling in his hair as you let him take control.

Fred’s hands roamed your body, gripping your waist tightly, like he was afraid to let go. The kiss deepened, becoming more frantic, more needy. It was the kind of kiss that came after a fight—the kind that was filled with anger, desire, and a need to feel something other than the pain of losing.

He pushed you back against the bed, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the heat between you growing. You didn’t care about the match anymore, about the rivalry between your houses. All that mattered was this moment—him, you, and the way he made you feel.

Fred pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath heavy. “I should hate you right now.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers as if trying to find some hidden truth there. And then, without warning, he kissed her again.

This time, it was softer, slower, but no less intense. His hands slid up her sides, pulling her closer until there was no space between them, until she could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as she pressed herself against him, her heart racing as their kiss deepened.

Fred groaned softly against her mouth, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. His hands moved to her lower back, pulling her tighter against him, his grip almost possessive. Y/N could feel the intensity of his need in every touch, every kiss, and it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

But she wanted more. She wanted all of him.

She broke the kiss, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were dark, filled with a hunger that mirrored her own, and for a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other, the air between them thick with tension.

“Are you sure about this?” Fred asked, his voice rough, his hands still resting on her hips, but looser now, giving her the space to pull away if she wanted to.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’ve never been more sure.”

His lips curved into a slow, almost predatory smile, and in that moment, all the hesitation, all the uncertainty seemed to melt away. He pulled her back into him, his lips finding hers once more, more insistent this time, more demanding.

Y/N’s body responded instantly, her hands moving to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his head. Fred broke the kiss just long enough to help her, his hands moving quickly to discard the fabric before pulling her back into him.

Her fingers roamed over his bare chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the rapid rise and fall of his breath. He was all hard muscle and rough edges, and the sensation of his body pressed against hers sent a surge of desire coursing through her.

Fred’s hands were everywhere—her waist, her back, her hips—pulling her closer, guiding her until her back hit the wall behind them. Y/N gasped as the cold stone pressed against her, but the sensation was quickly forgotten as Fred’s lips found her neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat.

Her breath hitched as his hands slid beneath her shirt, his fingers brushing over her skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She arched into him, her body craving more, needing more.

“Freddie,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders as he kissed his way down to her collarbone.

His only response was a low growl, his hands moving to her hips, lifting her up against the wall with ease. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed himself against her, his mouth returning to hers in a fierce, heated kiss.

It was all-consuming. His touch, his kiss, the feel of his body against hers. Y/N was lost in him, in the intensity of the moment, in the heat that seemed to burn between them. She could feel the weight of all the emotions they’d been holding back—the frustration, the tension, the desire—and it was like a dam had finally broken.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it all slowed down. Fred pulled back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her waist, holding her up.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his eyes dark and filled with emotion. “I don’t just want this. I want you. All of you.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his words. There was a vulnerability in his voice, in the way he looked at her, that made her chest ache. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as she met his gaze.

“I’m yours, Freddie,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside her. “I’ve always been yours.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. And then, with a soft, almost reverent kiss, Fred pulled her closer, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.

You both knew that when the sun rose, the rivalry would still be there. Gryffindor and Slytherin. Winner and loser. But tonight, none of that mattered.