#nothing can make me hate you jimmy

[ellouchi]

I can relate to Jimmy's worst qualities like jealousy, low self esteem and tunnel vision but I can empathize heavily with the want to be a better person. For yourself, and for others. To be loved, respected and looked up to. Wouldn't that be great?

There's are several reasons why Jimmy uses Anya's words, but he really does believe in them even if it's to make himself feel better. He's not completely blind to his screw ups, he has the ability to recognise where he did wrong (to an extent yk). And he feels guilt and remorse, so he tries to "fix" what he has done. It's not perfect — it can hardly amount to anything but that's enough for me. I've always been a sucker for such character development. People can say Jimmy is a monster and pure evil but I'll never believe it.

[the-somwthing]

…

[phemiec]

A Mouthwashing (and How Fish is Made) fansong, unfortunately from Jimmy’s POV mostly, sorry. 🐴 Music and lyrics by me, PhemieC

NOTE: this is my first fansong in five years, and sad to say but my voice has been decimated by illness in the last few years, so please don’t go into this expecting it to sound the same as my old stuff.

That being said, I have released an instrumental version, and I would LOVE to hear covers from other vocalists! Feel free to post and sell if you make a cover as well. <3

LYRICS UNDER CUT

[verse 1] Momma bird sleeping and her nest is empty Pretty and clean I feel the crease of envy Cutting a line right through the sky above me Healthy and green just like a good tree should be Momma bird leaving now her eggs are lonely Out from the underbrush I creep so slowly I’ll lay my own, her home is sound and safe, he’s Grey like a stone among her round blue babies She’ll never tell if she’s a few shells lighter Quick cracking clever comes my little fighter  Babes that feel safer they hatch so much slower Thrown down below then by my own fast grower Momma returns to feed her only child he Smells like a stranger and he cries so loudly Drinks of his fill while I look up on proudly Picking away at the discarded bounty 

[chorus] What hides inside has the skill to thrive Do you have the will to decide to survive? A parasite needs you alive To feed their growing appetite 

[verse 2] Thing crawling thirsty, shared flesh, a blessing Drink of my stagnancy, the taste refreshing Carry a part of me and keep on climbing  Top of the ladder’s just a place for dying Dread in your gullet, ignore it, buddy Lead in the bullet, it’s harmless, mostly Let me consume you, let you defend me Curling protector, my friendly fresh meat Im in control now and I like the feeling I’ll play the role of every wound you’re healing Follow the leader was always my thing Swallow your pills and lay still, unwrithing Master of puppets is my one objective Real apex predators can be selective Relay your message, it won’t stop the spread if I replace your tongue when I open your head up

[chorus] What hides inside has the skill to thrive Do you have the will to decide to survive? A parasite keeps you alive To feed their growing appetite 

[verse 3] My stress relief, she keeps asking questions I can’t believe she thinks I’ll learn her lesson Nothing outside of me will ever get in No mocking birdie with an unblinking grin Four beating hooves, I hate to hear them thunder Trample the metal tomb I’m buried under braying beast, neighing in the womb inside her Breaking its legs to glue you back together

[chorus] What hides inside has the skill to thrive Do you have the will to decide to survive? A parasite needs you alive To feed their growing appetite…

[birdyisthewordyy]

HELLOOO this is my first request.. 😔

Like can you make a thing where the reader (please make it a fem reader for this one) is mascular fem reader and how the mouthwash crew will be react or be with the reader😻

if you can do this pleasee do it!! This has been just on my mind..

(I'm sorry if I couldn't describe it pretty well but I hope you understand it👅🙏)

a/n: I went ahead and combined two asks because they were pretty similar I HOPE THATS OKAY!! ANYWAY I love these askS MUSCULAR WOMEN FTW

Tulpar crew with a muscular! Fem! Reader

Curly

He can still lift you up easy peasy

Loves doing weightlifting with you

Brags on you

“My girlfriend can bench press 400!”

When you get sore he runs a hot bath for you

With rose petals and Epsom salts

Watches movies with you and gives you massages

Anything for his girl

You two have a friendly competition to see how much you can lift

The gym hates to see y’all coming

Or loves to

You kind of brighten up the atmosphere with your mushy couple junk

Y’all are matched in arm wrestling

You try every day

Never works

You just stay there with your arms shaking

Lol

He’s ecstatic to have another workout buddy though

Especially one that doesn’t take it as seriously as Jimmy

Jimmy

Speak of the devil himself

He’s jealous

Right off the bat he’s jealous of you

Because he could never achieve that physique

His metabolism is too fast

And it pisses him off

He eventually comes around

Makes underhanded comments sometimes though

Meanie

He might weightlift with you

You’re a good spotter he has to admit

Encouraging and all that

Despite how jacked you are you are pretty feminine

Which he enjoys

He likes that you dress up and do makeup and all that

And if you’re not he appreciates how…

Eugh

“Drama free” you are

One of those guys

Yikes

You love him though

Swansea

Swansea didn’t grow up in a generation where women could just pick up a weight and start growing muscle

Despite this he thinks it’s badass

He’d never say that but he does

Appreciates your commitment

Maybe even attracted to it idk

An excellent cook so he makes things for you if you’re hungry after lifting

Makes banger soups

He’s pretty strong himself

But doesn’t work out too often

Just enough and if he feels like it

He’s got a bad back so nothing crazy

Take this man to a chiropractor

If you use protein powder he doesn’t understand it

“Back in my day we had to work for what we got!”

You try to explain it’s not like steroids

But he is NOT having it

Sometimes you go overboard though

And he does worry for you

“Just…be careful, alright? Don’t want you exhausting yourself on me.”

Daisuke

Daisuke is also just a little bit jealous

He gets over it though

He buys you one of those giant water bottles that have words of encouragement on the sides

Says it’s like he’s there with you

You love this boy

Would be like

“Oh yeah? Can YOUR partner do 50 pushups? (Name), show em!”

Makes you personalized playlists

Eye of the Tiger is definitely on there

Along with Wheels on the Bus

He giggles when he hears it coming from your headphones

You just look at him like WTF

Would be your spotter

Very encouraging

“You can do it! Two more!”

Fists in the air

Tries to fist bump you

You are exhausted I fear

Would sit on your back while you do push-ups

To prove a point

What point? Idk

Anya

Anya has tried working out in the past and never really got into a routine

She’s a little bit out of shape so she’s at least happy that you know what you’re doing

Buys you sweatbands with pretty little designs on them

Also makes you protein shakes in the morning

Without you asking

May try to work out with you

Gets extremely sore though

Anya with a ponytail is cute tho

She can’t do push-ups

Like physically she just collapses

It’s not even that she’s weak

She’s actually quite strong physically

And mentally too but that’s not the point

She almost beat you once in arm wrestling

She just gets tired easily

Little chubby

Totally not projecting again

Hee hee

[dombottom]

His laundry bag was right in front of me. I told myself it wasn’t weird or sexual. I just need to sniff his underwear to make sure I hadn’t accidentally grabbed anything clean. I pulled his neon briefs to my nose. Christ. They reeked of his young sweat. It was musky funky and their was a potent note of syrupy sweetness where his balls had stretched the pouch. It’s not weird I told myself. I just…love him. That’s all. Mom’s talk about love the way a baby’s head smells. Maybe dad’s love smells too. Yeah nothing weird. Or sexual at all. The raging hardon in my pants was unrelated. There was no way smelling my 18 year old’s puberty sweat aroused me. “Fuck” I whispered when my nose ended up in the spot it always did. The spot where he left the most mouthwatering-cock dribble inducing-head spinning sent of ASS. I closed my eyes and huffed. He wasn’t dirty he was just so damn musky. I hated myself for it, but I was obsessed with the boy. Head over heels in deep lust with my son. I’d never act on it ever! No matter how hard the smell made me or how easy it was to cum sniffing his ho— the greedy monster that made me do these heinous things made me wonder if I could get an even fresher set. Maybe they’d still damp. I always jerked off immediately if I could get still wet from his hamper. I’d shoot so had from his fresh sweat. I strolled to his room, “Hey Bluejay? You got anything you want me to throw in the wash?” I said. Fuck bad idea. The whole room reeked off him. Dear god he wore his lucky socks. Never washed, always rank. They were nasty and crunchy. At least once a week I bust a nut sniffing those foul socks.

I waited for him to acknowledge me. He didn’t get up or turn. “Dad. Do the words regional champion mean nothing to you? You do understand how fucking epic today was right?” He said. I paused because I was gawking at the beauty of the boy. Savoring the scent of his sweaty athletic body… wanting to drag my tongue the the crack of his little round as-NO! SON! WRONG! PERVERT! I scolded myself mentally. “No no I’m so proud of you! But it really reeks in here. Today you can enjoy the big win but tomorrow, clean this place up.” I said. It’d be easier to ignore how much I wanted him if he didn’t smell like sex 24/7. He flopped over propping himself up on his elbows. Smirk on his naturally bright pink lips. How two fuck ups like me and his mom managed to make the single most attractive boy on the planet was beyond me. His wavy brown hair hung into his impossibly blue eyes. We’d named him James after my grandpa, but when James just didn’t fit, and neither did Jim or Jimmy…the color of those eyes got him the nickname Bluejay. It fit. Just like he’d fit so perfectly in my arms… I wasn’t winning the whole -don’t fall in love son- battle. My only comfort was that I at least had the decency to hate myself for wanting him so bad. Jerking off to the boy was wrong. I knew it was. And if we could get rid of the nest of tasty smells in his room, maybe I’d be able to cut back on how much I beat my dick thinking about my boy. “Dad. Breath it in! That’s the smell of a champion. An award winning athlete. What do you want it to smell like in here, loser? Besides I like it. A lil musk makes a boy feel good about himself, you should get a closer whiff,” he said. He broke into an earth shattering smile. I could’ve sworn his legs opened a bit more. He threw his arms up behind his head. His pits smelled delicious. I felt a wave of blood rush to my dick and then another. I needed to get out. “I can smell you from here, and don’t clean ok whatever…any clothes?” I asked. “Just these,” he said. He picked up a pair of electric yellow briefs and wiped them through each pit and then flung them in my face. “Bluejay what the fuck that wasn’t very ni—oh. Oh fuck,” I said unable to keep it in. They were rank. His sharp teenage funk was all over them. To my horror, the mix of all his scents on his small briefs made my dick pop up fully hard. “That’s what I thought,” he said. He was up on his feet walking towards me. Was he hard to? No of course not what was I thinking. He stood in front of me and slapped my hardon playfully. “Pervert,” he said laughing. I covered my face in shame. “Bluejay I’m so sorry I’m just pent up it’s unrelated I swear I’m so embarrassed.” I said horrified. “No it’s not…that hardon is for me. I think it’s because of my butt. I think you like it. A pervert hard for his son’s butt. Thinking about anal sex with his boy!” he teased. I wanted to combust on the spot. I was about to beg and plead and apologize when he sprang.

In two quick movements he spun me and knocked me onto his bed. I didn’t have time to think. He jumped on top of me pinning me arms. God he was strong. “You really don’t know how to take a fucking hint Dad,” he said. His voice dropped an octave and became raspy. I’d never heard him sound, well, sexy. “Bluejay I’m-this is wrong. I just-I got carried away or something” I said. “Shut up.” He said flatly. He spun himself around so his back was to me and his ass was in my face. HIS ASS WAS IN MY FACE. I felt the heat. I could smell his hole so close to me. I’d never understood the meaning of the word desire until that moment. I tried to my push my face into his cheeks but he was just out of reach. “Aht-aht! Not til I say.” He gave me two playful slaps. “Now, let’s play with that big dick of yours,” he said. He fished me out of my lounge pants and started squeezing rubbing and groping. He was muttering under his breath “Big fuckin Dad cock and he wouldn’t give to me mmm I’m fuckin gonna ride it this mine now” I moaned as he played with me and kept talking nasty about his dad’s cock. He leaned down to sniff the base. He said fuck. He was feral after smelling my dick. He reached his hands back. He ripped open his singlet. “Oh god! You ripped it!” I said in shock. “Relax. You’ll buy me another one.” He said. I could smell his body. See the soft fuzz that trailed in and out of his perfect ass. “Tongue out.” He said sternly. I obeyed my boy. He lifted his hips and pushed back dragging his hole down my tongue. My whole body trembled as he groaned in pleasure. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting your big fucking dick? Mmm the veins look tasty. He said still pawing my meat. I started to feel a weird sense of pride from deep within. “Dad? I’ve been watching you play with your cock for years do you know that? I watch you shower almost every morning. I secretly hoped you’d catch me looking and touching my self. All hot for my Dad. I wanted you to make a move. but obviously you were never taking the first step. You’d rather just beat off sniffing my sweaty underwear.” He said coyly. I was filled with terror and embarrassment. “Bluejay I’m sorry I don’t even know what to say” I rambled while I caressed him. His pretty fuzzy cheeks. “Yeah that’s great is there any particular reason why you’re yapping instead of eating my sweaty champion ass?” Bluejay said pushing his perfect butt further back into my face. I pushed my nose into his crack. I sniffed till my lungs were full. He smelled like a mixture of old and fresh sweat. He was sticky from the ass sweat from round after round. I took a slow lick trying to make my tongue wide as possible to have a deeper taste. He was salty and sweet and the funky smell of his butt seemed to remain no matter how much I licked. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d felt this happy. I couldn’t tell you how long I ate him out. Maybe 20 minutes, maybe two hours. I fell into a trance licking his butt. My son’s butt. The most perfect boy in the world. I was licking his meaty and muscular but still soft glorious boy ass. Tasting my little winner.

He was up and spun on top of me. He opened the nightstand drawer. A half empty bottle of lube was in the drawer. My eyes rolled back thinking imaging him masturbating. I was finally giving myself permission to fantasize, crave him, think of him sexually. My love for him got even deeper. He started lubing me up. It brought me back to reality. “Woah woah Bluejay the first time might hurt and I’m kinda big so maybe we should do that next time” I said. Rubbing his leg. His perfect leg. Have you ever been in love with every inch of a person? Because I was. “Dad you’re fucking adorable. First time? I’ve been fucking for the last 4 years. I’ve fucked men, women, and at least 3 they/thems. Fucking is fun if the girl is fun. Guys are my favorite but they can be so sleazy no connection during the sex. If you’re with an nb you might as well invite as many people as you can. Anyway you’re actually very big but that’s what I want. If it doesn’t hurt when you’re getting stretched out what’s the point?” He said lubing up his hole. Dear god light brown hairs were all around his pink hole. Seeing him touch himself made my dick jump. He reached back and lined me up like a pro. He started to push and I cried out in ecstasy. “Hey why don’t you just put it in the newspaper that we fucked…keep it down.” He said. I popped into his hole. Right as I was about to scream out again. His foot still in his nasty lucky sock smashed into my face. “Shut it. Sniff it. Only champs stink like that right? I’m gonna keep it on your face as long as I want Dad I like making you smell my stinky socks. You can’t do anything about it.” He said as he began to rock his hips adjusting to the size. I took deep sniffs groaning as he started a slow bounce. “How’s that smell Dad? Talk about my stinky feet.” He said maintaining a steady bounce. “Oh god they smell so good Bluejay I’ve sniffed them to beat off before but having your feet in there makes it smell fucking amazing! Sour and sweaty so nasty I love it. I love you. Oh Oh you feel so tight” I said worshipping him. “Hey. You’re only talking about feet. Open your mouth let’s see how much champion you can swallow.” He said rolling his hips making my head go back. I opened my mouth and he jammed his foot far back enough that the rough fabric made me gag and cough and my whole body heave. “Ungh that made it swell inside me. Keep gagging Dad.” He said. The order was unnecessary because I wanted it in my mouth down my throat. His nasty socks were as tasty as they were stinky. Salty with sweat. “Do you even understand how long you made me wait for this dick? I just had to watch you frustrated trying to get a nut. I was right there presenting ass. Waiting for you on my knees…but this is how it has to be. Going forward, you do what I say. Do you understand?” He said. He got up into a squat and started long up and down strokes. “I didn’t know you wanted it. I felt like a perv. Oh god. I love you so much. I can’t believe this is happening. You’re so beautiful. You my biggest pride.” I said. He came down and started grinding. His eyes rolled back and he was wincing as he stirred his hips. “Oh god I’m definitely not done punishing you for keeping this dick from me. OH uhh it hurts so good Dad. Today is gonna be quick. Ok grab my cheeks spread them as wide as you can. And start fucking. Fast. And I mean fucking fast. I wanna hear the plop plop plop as your balls slap my butt. I’m ready to nut. Remember FAST,” His pale cheeks were flush, making his blue eyes look bluer. His bangs were stuck to his sweaty forehead. I looked at him. He was the most beautiful boy I���d ever seen. “You are just the hottest person I’ve ever seen. I’ve never had sex this good. And if we never do this again, this is the best night of my whole life.” I said in awe. He leaned down he smelled like sex. His natural ass funk had filled the air. I never wanted to breath air that didn’t smell like my boy’s butt. It was the best ass I ever smelled my dick had never been so hard before. It felt like it was still growing inside him. “Imagine my view.

“I’ve wanted this since I realized I like men. You look good under me dad. I like being in control. Now. I told you to fuck me FAST.” He punched me in the pec as he said fast. The impact made me want more of him. More ass, more nasty socks, more fucking punches! I grabbed his cheeks pulling as wide as I could. Just feeling my fingers digging into his asscrack made fall into stream of desperate needy affection. “Oh god I fucking love you Bluejay I can’t believe how perfect you are I love you so fucking much you have the best ass I’ve ever licked baby you are the most beautiful thing on the planet you have the best hole I’ve ever felt I’m in love with you every thing you’re my boy and I’ve always wanted to do this I’ve only beat off to you fuuuuck” I rambled as I quickly pumped in and out. “I said FUCK-ME-FAST!” He punched my chest with each word. Each hit made me go harder and faster. “Pick up the fucking pace dad! You have a big dick USE IT!” He said continuing to punch. I went faster than I ever had. No one had ever let me go that hard. That deep or at a full stroke. My cock reacted to the new sensations I didn’t know anything could feel so good. “Oh that’s it. Keep it up. Do that for your son. Just be a dad fucking your kid in the ass! Oh keep going here it comes! Hurt my asshole Dad, make it sore for me.” I did what he said I went hard. So fast he started whining on my dick. His hand went to his perfect dick. He started jerking in rhythm with me. He only stopped to punch my pecs so hard I grunted with each one. “That’s for keeping the dick from me! That’s for not making a fucking move! And that’s for making my lil butthole hurt like that yes keep going! Hard Dad keep going hard! I love you I love you oh GOD STRETCH IT DAD THAT BIG COCK IS MIIINE!” Somewhere between the punching jacking and fucking he shot one long spurt across my belly. “Don’t fucking stop!” He said slapping my face. I was instantly back at pace. I was sweating from every pore. My muscles burned and I was out of breath. But I didn’t let up. He spurted three more big ropes across my stomach and chest. He put his hand on my knee slowing me down to a full stop . He breathed heavy his lids hung halfway closed. He’d had that sheen that comes from sex. “My love let me lick your ass so I can cum. You got all sweaty again. Delicious. I wanna taste my baby all opened up. Your ass’s natural smell makes me crazy.” I said looking at him with hunger in my eyes. He collapsed onto me mixing sweat spit cum and god knows what else mixed as I pulled him close embrace. He kissed me tongue eager and curious as he explored what felt good. I was desperate to get back inside him. Feel his tight hole squeezing the sides my dick . Smell his special body odor. “I need ass in my face again. I wanna cum while I worship Bluejay’s butt. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been beating off to your pretty cheeks. Now I got to taste the real thing.” I said and he stared down at me with his usual glowing smile. He gave me another deep kiss anything he did made my cock pulse. He looked in my eyes and said, “that’s the thing Dad… you’re not gonna cum. The last thing I need is you getting post nut clarity. Making you get weird over the fact that we’ve started fucking. That it’s wrong. You understand? Not letting you cum keeps you obsessed with fucking me. Now as I recall, you have laundry to do, a new singlet to order… I hope you’re sorry for getting me so horny that I tore my champion singlet.” He wagged a finger at me. “I’m sorry Bluejay. I’ll listen to your orders more carefully next time.” I said feeling. “I like this Dad. I meant what I said when I came. Your dick is mine. Soon you’ll be all mine Daddy… Alright. We’ll play more when asshole stops buzzing from that fast fuck. Don’t you dare put on clothes. Naked chores so I can see how hard you stay for your son. And I can look a you without hiding.” He said as he sprawled out for a nap. “I love you so much.” I said. “Dad. Order me a pizza too.” He said. “Anything you want Bluejay.” I said. “Kiss it before you go.” He lifted his ass.

I kissed it. “Ok so go start the wash and come right back. That cycle takes 46 minutes to clean my clothes. So you will have 46 minutes to lick my ass clean. I want it so clean that if I run a finger through my crack my finger doesn’t smell like my 2 day old ass funk. Ha! Giving you orders makes me horny. You might be in my ass again sooner than you thought. My Dad has to do whatever I say. Cause he’s in love with me and desperate to dick his boy down. We’ll use the dryer cycle for licking my feet. Go drink water. Bring a bottle. I don’t wanna hear that your tongue is dry.” He ordered. “I love you so much. I need you. I want you controlling my dick. You’re right. Not cumming has made me more obsessed and needy for you.” I said desperate for him. “Good” he said.

[evangelineenjoysdaisuke]

WHO TFK IS THIS GUY?

Daisuke x F!reader

Warning: language, eventual smut, jimmy and everything that comes with him (lol). y/n smokes weed!!

a/n: y/n is a therapist on the tulpar! (not my original idea, @/-Mairibby on wattpad) the fic series wont be mainly about y/n and daisuke, its more about everyone, but daisuke and y/n get together eventually, yk? things may or may not go on plot due to me not giving a fuck lol. remember that this is from y/n's point of view, so not everything she says or thinks will be correct. but this fic is mostly getting familiar with the dynamics between y/n and the others, enjoy! ALL OF MY CONTENT IS FOR ALL READERS. PERIOD. EVERYONE IS SAFE HERE!

PT 1.

You were afraid of heights and elevators…so what the fuck are you doing in space? You questioned, looking at yourself in the restroom, and looking down at your scratchy material uniform…pony express…yay. Only a year left, bigger yay.

You were the only girl aside from anya on the ship, which didn't bother you much. You were known for keeping things positive and whomever you had a conversation with, it would always end in a laugh. So you went on ship as a newly licensed therapist. After graduating college, you'd come across a flyer stuck on a light post with a cute pony on it. You said hm, then in a week, you started your new job.

You didn't know any of these people, really. Curly, the captain, Jimmy, sketchy dark guy..usually your type, but co-captain. Anya, the nurse, Swansea, the mechanic, and daisuke, the idiot intern. Things are going smoothly, the food wasn't your favorite but there wasn't anything salt and pepper can't fix (god, you wish you had cajun seasoning. You made a mental note to bring some next time) you managed to smuggle your weed pen and a zip, knowing in order to be the best therapist you can be you have to be the least stressed. You hid it under your pillow, they make comments about the smell and know someones carrying it between all of you, but can't find it. They point fingers at daisuke, but don't attack him since they cant confirm it.

If anyone needed to be attacked, it was Jimmy, the nasty cigs that laid between his lips as you all sat around the table playing card games or just simply talking, the smell was louder than Swansea playing a game of poker. You didn't know why you paid so much attention to him, his aura was alluring. You liked how dirty he looked, like he has no shame. But there was just something….off. Like he isn't fit to be co-captain, but he never gave you a reason or showed why he shouldn't be.

Conversations with curly were light, conversations with him were easy. He's a good man, takes responsibility. You make sure to let him know. Only lord knows what would happen if he started doubting himself, and no one wants to even take the risk.

You sigh and collect yourself, take a long hit of your weed pen and walk to the lounge. Picking up the clipboard to do evaluations. You and Anya switched off time and time. She discussed with you that she felt like she was here for no reason with nothing to do, she wanted to feel needed and like she was part of the crew. It didn't matter to you, though. Not like she gets part of your cut.

Looking around and seeing everyone, you'd wonder who would be your first victim. They all equally hated the evals, only being cooperative because Cap says so. You wince your eyes and see who's less busy. The side of your lips turn up and you look at swansea. You walk towards him, and it's almost as if you're his 6th sense, you can see how disinterested he is and it was really obvious when he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. It made you laugh.

“When are you going to register in your head that I am too old to be going crazy on a ship, y/n. These aren't-” “necessary, i heard you the first time..and all the other times. But protocol is protocol, relax, okay?” you sat in front of him on the couch and he lifted his head to look at you. “Have you been able to complete your mandated tasks as a mechanic efficiently and to your fullest capacity?” your eyes lifted from the clipboard. “The ship hasn't broken down has-” “swansea” you cut him off and sharpen your eyes. “Do you need me to-” “yeah yeah- i got it. Yes i have” you chuckle at his response and drop your clipboard in your lap. “You know that you make this 10 times harder and longer? Or do you just like giving me a hard time?”

“Honestly both, I try to get as many minutes away from daisuke. He makes the vein in my forehead pop out” you laugh at that and point at him with your black pen, “now we're getting somewhere” you cross your legs and continue the eval until it's over. Swansea reminded you of a bitter grandpa but secretly wants to see you succeed. You see how he cares for daisuke, even when he cusses him out. He cares enough to cuss him out. It's something to admire from afar.

Daisuke and swansea were the best duo in here. Curly and jimmy were kinda boring considering it was the grumpy x sunshine trope. You just wondered how jimmy had so much…power. Though he was co-captain, whenever he had a conversation with anyone, it's almost as if they just let him do what he wants to without consequence, like he's a toddler. You see how Anya instantly lowers her head and just submits to him, but you haven't asked or said anything, not only because it's not your place, but also since Anya just doesn't really talk to you.

You took note of how you've caught her watching from afar. You didn't wanna label her as envious, she was just shy, while you laughed and fit right in. you didnt want to feel bad for anya, it's not what she deserves. You'd wish she'd just put herself out there more and know that she's safe with you, and you wanted a bond with her- absolutely, but there was some kind of tension that you just couldn't grasp on.

She also had a conversation with you about how she didn't feel comfortable doing evaluations with jimmy. She told you about the disturbing comments he makes, and asked if he told you them to. He did. But most of the time you're too high to even pay attention to what he's talking about and end up just labeling good on all of them. Anya ended up furrowing her eyebrows and just walking away, you watched as she did so, she covered her face and her posture lowered. She cried.

“Daisuke! Eval. Are you ready?” you smiled and walked into the sleeping quarters. “Ah!” he exclaimed, fixing his pillow before fluffing his hair and standing up with an awkward smile on his face. “Uh..yeah sure” he said. You smiled and lifted your eyebrows “i thought i was the only one hiding things on this ship” “you are” “ha, ha” you tilted your head, “we can sit on my bed and do it, if you wanna” he offers, you let out a hum and say okay before sitting on the bed, your knees touching but you didn't put too much mind into it.

You dropped the clipboard on the side of the bed and he furrowed his eyebrows and gave you a puzzled look. “Aren't you gonna ask me questions?” “I'm starting to feel like it's just not needed. Not saying your not important or anything, but you are an intern. What tasks do you really have?” you let out a laugh, but looking at daisuke, he didn't like your answer. It was actually very clear he took offense to it. You bit your lower lip and crossed your legs, no longer touching knees with him. You clear your throat and widen your eyes for a split second before raising the clipboard. “Have you been able to do your mandated tasks as intern?” an awkward wide smile on your lips. “And what mandated tasks do i have?” he said. Petty. You thought, you let out a breath, “im sorry, daisuke. I apologize, I didn't mean it like that. Please forgive me”

“Show me what you're hiding,” he said, out of the blue. You give him a puzzled look. “How is that an even trade? I made a comment. We get outta here in a year, you'll lose track of time and forget it in 3 days. What I'm hiding can get me in trouble for the rest of my life ""do i look like a snitch to you?” he crossed his arms, you laughed, “Fine”. To that he smiled, you stood and went to your spot, lifting the pillow and revealing the goods.

He bit his lip and looked at you before squinting his eyes. “So you really fucking hate me, huh?” you cock your head back at his comment, confused you look at him, silently signalling for him to elaborate. “First you say I'm useless here, and now I found out that you're the one carrying the weed on the tulpar and they've been saying slick stuff to me. Wow, y/n. You're an asshole” he laughs. “Shit..fuck, youre right. Im sorry” you felt like a complete bully and an idiot, you put your palm on your face to hide your embarrassment. He shook his head, “you at least gonna share? The least you could do” he let out a small laugh, in an instinct you pulled out your pen and gave it to him, avoiding eye contact. “How does this even work?” he asked, holding it up and scanning it.

“You're joking…rich kid, I imagine you have all the friends in the world and have parties, and possibly have done something worse than this” he glared at your sentence, but you scooted closer to him and held the hand that was sticking up the pen. It was pink and bedazzled, “see this button right here? Press it while you suck- or breathe in whatever from here” you said, before looking back at him. He nodded his head and bit his lip, you let go and allowed him to take a hit from the pen. He awkwardly pulls it up to his lips, you watched as he wrapped his lips around it, silently cursing to himself in regret, not because he was taking a hit, but because he wrapped his lips on it not around it. The wetness from his mouth from the lord knows where is now on your pen that you will continue to hit. Not that you minded, his lips were soft and pink, he carried around a coca-cola flavored chapstick and used it, mostly when he was nervous.

You cocked your head to the side and watched him take the hit. “Dont kill yourself” you laugh, pulling it slowly from his lips. He immediately coughs, and you groan to see the wasted hybrid smoke enter the air, you sigh and wave so it disappears. “You gotta work on that” you mutter as he dies, falling over onto your pallet and banging the floor, his mouth open as he coughs. You laugh and pat his back, trying to help him out. He collects himself, “what the hell is going on?” curly asks, stepping in, your eyes widen and you cover the stash with the pillow before turning back to the captain.

“Choking on his spit, ha, you know how daisuke is” you do an innocent smile and he squints his eyes looking at daisuke. He only raises a thumb and scratches the back of his head. “Swansea said he wants to show you how to fix the vent, and if you make him wait any longer he's gonna ignore you for a month straight” “that's my cue, see you y/n. And I forgive you” he smiles and stands, walking past curly.

Curly eyes you, “done jimmy yet?”. “Don't think I want to, maybe you should?” “Of course” you smile at his acceptance, and hand him the clipboard as he walks to you. “Thank you cap, you're the best” you say with a genuine smile, he only smiles back before walking away. Everyone was doing their only thing so you decided to lay off and keep your pen and your copy of “Interview With The Vampire” by Anne Rice from some company.

[yurinabluu]

🔹2. Honey-comb icecream

synopsis- Break-up of the it couple of the university was surely shocking for everyone but yu jimin didn't care. She knew it was right to do as she was in love with somebody else. Precisely her ex's bestfriend.

[A moment from the past when Ryujin and Jimin were dating]

“Do you like the taste? This place is particularly renowned for it’s ice-cream. I tried the raspberry one with Y/N few months ago and loved it so much. Though Y/N liked the honey-comb more. I had a bite and trust me when I say how bad it was. God knows how she likes it so much.”

Ryujin chuckled lowly and took a bite from her ice-cream.

While Ryujin was busy in talking about something, Jimin couldn’t help but motion her orbs onto the woman who had stolen her heart without even her realizing the moment it happened. She had convinced her broken heart that you did not feel the same about her , which led her to accept Ryujin’s proposal.

She thought this would help her to move on but boy how wrong she was. You were so pretty , so kind and so gentle. How can she ever move on from you?

Jimin was not a fool. She knew about her popularity. She was aware how everyone in the university adored her. Everyone except you she assumed. Nobody knows how many times she had prayed that she was wrong. Maybe you felt something for her. She did not mind if it was friendship or anything less . She just wanted to be near you and admire you for the amazing woman you were.

“I want to try another flavor.”

Ryujin looked up at Jimin before replying,

“Yeah? Tell me the flavor . I’ll go and buy for you.”

“The honey-comb one”

Ryujin looked at Jimin for a second before nodding and head towards the counter. Jimin gave her a small smile before her eyes moved back to you again. However, the smile which was gracing her beautiful face got replaced with a frown when she noticed a girl standing close to you which was more than enough to disrupt Jimin’s whole self.

She hated this feeling. She felt her gut wrench and stomach churn in a way she had never experienced before. It was an unfamiliar painful feeling and Jimin despised it. She never wished to feel like this again.

[Present time]

“Jimmy, are you fine?”

Minjeong asked her , her eyes mirroring the worry in her other two friend’s, Aeri and NingNing eyes.

Jimin’s eyes were fixed on you, particularly on your arm which was being held by Yunjin, the famous cheerleader. Yunjin was one of your admirers except for the fact that she was hell bent to make you hers. Everyone knew of her liking towards you and the efforts she has been putting in since freshman years to please you, which only resulted in earning a polite rejection from you.

Jimin knew you would reject her again like you have been doing since before , not to her but to everyone who’d dared to confess their feelings to you.

But the similar feeling always haunts her every time something like this happened.

“Do you think Y/N will accept Yunjin this time?”

“Maybe. I mean Yunjin has been trying for so long.”

“Really? I don’t think so.”

“Wanna bet?”

Having enough of the chatters, Jimin got up from her seat and left the cafeteria immediately. Jimin was a strong and resilient woman but she was nothing but powerless when it came to you.

Your eyes wandered on the screen in-front you while your hands were busy in jotting down the notes Mr. Lee was displaying. You had an important test coming up soon and needless to say you were lacking behind a lot due to volleyball practices. You loved the sport more than anything else but this test was important and covered an important part of your grade. Not to forget, the project which was going to be announced today held the similar importance. God it was extremely stressful but it something which was needed to be done.

“I just hope my partner will be useful. I cannot do all the work alone.”

You muttered under your breath when you noticed a presence beside you.

“Hey!”

You looked up at the source of voice when you felt your breath stop at the sight. Jimin stood beside you with her laptop and essentials in her hand, adorned in a white sleeve-less tee with a matching sky blue jeans , looking at you with a small smile. You were speechless. You never had a proper conversation with her before. You had no idea on what to say.

“Uhm hey..”

You mumbled nervously before Jimin sat down beside you making you even more surprised. You noticed her putting the materials down on the table gracefully before her eyes met your wide ones again. She let out a small laugh before speaking to you,

“We are partners….. y’know for the project.”

“Oh!”

You were cooked. Undoubtedly. You don’t know about God’s favorite child but you swore you definitely were the least. Before you could speak anything, Mr. Lee’s voice filled the classroom.

“Now that your partners are announced, I need you all to prepare a thorough and detailed presentation on the topic you like. Make sure to counter all the expected areas of the topic you choose along with your partners and discuss each other’s findings daily for at least an hour for a month before concluding it. Strategize your schedule for a month accordingly and remember this project is important for your grade. So better take it seriously.”

You cursed internally thinking about how you were going to survive a month being that close to Jimin. You just hoped that you won’t do anything stupid. Making Jimin uncomfortable was the least thing you ever want to do. And God knows how you were going to explain this to Ryujin. You cannot imagine what was going to happen during this whole month but things will definitely be taking a turn.

For good or for bad… only God knows that.

“So I was saying…” , Jimin looked at you giving you all her attention. You released a breath you did not realize you were holding before speaking,

“Should we exchange numbers?”

Jimin raised a brow at you in surprise which made you even more nervous if it was even possible.

“I mean since we are now partners, sorry project partners and Mr. Lee said we need to discuss our findings daily. So to decide the timings we need to chat and of course we cannot do that without having each other’s number. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It did not mean that. Trust me I am-”

Placing her hand on your shoulder, Jimin gave you a light comforting squeeze while having a teasing smile on her lips.

“I did not know you could get nervous Y/N.”

Jimin spoke making you look away from her with blood rushing in your face, making your ears and cheeks turn red. She laughed looking at your flushed self before handing her phone to you and asking you to hand over yours to her. Jimin returned your phone back to you after saving her number making you do the same.

“Let’s have a good month together Y/N.”

A genuine smile graced your lips mirroring hers before you spoke,

“Sure Jimin.”

_________________________________________

Taglist(open) - @saysirhc , @1luvkarina , @myouiiiiiiii , @nasyu-kookies , @gayforalll , @yuyuy90 , @hooneysugarh , @spidrgamer , @sunshinez4 , @hwm1hyun .

[t4coyaki]

Mouthwashing x Undertale

BECAUSE NOTHING IS STOPPING ME FROM COMBINING MY INTERESTS 🗣️🗣️🗣️ (more details below, copy pasted from my tiktok lol)

ive had this idea for a bit and i wanted to get it on paper— does this count as an au?? can u guys tell i have a terrible obsession with these franchises i could talk sm abt it HERES ALL THE MAIN DETAILS

jimmy+curly: parallels to frisk and chara… player characters… actions and consequences… morally grey/complex character being influenced by an evildoer… being forced to watch the other commit terrible atrocities…

i actually considered assigning curly the soul of patience (bc how do you deal with jimmy everyday smh /lh) but i didnt think the props matched (curly in a tutu…) and then my brain made the frisk-chara jimmy-curly connection

-

swansea: soul of justice!! he doesn’t make the best decisions and can be quite harsh but he does what he believes is right (SIGHH he shouldve been given the gun rather than the axe)

-

anya: soul of perseverance!! if she sets her mind on something, she always sees it through. she keeps going despite the odds (her continuing to try and pass her exams despite failing 9 times, keeping curly alive post crash, etc.)

-

daisuke: soul of kindness!! THE IDEA THAT STARTED IT ALL!!! obviously he’s very empathetic, cares for everyone on the ship, sees the good in everyone, and tries his best (DAISUKE THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU DAISUKE)

-

i tried incorporating the items into everyone’s design, but also had some mouthwashing details shine through (e.g. daisuke’s apron having hibiscus flowers, anya’s book being about nursing, curly having his cowboy boots…)

AND HRGRGRG THE LINE “*You feel your sins crawling on your back.” IT FITS SO WELL??? SHOWS UP DURING THE SANS FIGHT (after practically murdering everyone in the underground) AND IT (somewhat) MIRRORS JIMMY BEING FORCED TO CONFRONT THE CONSEQUENCES OF HIS ACTIONS AFTER BASICALLY CAUSING THE DEATH OF EVERYONE ELSE— (guys am i cooking)

-

i jokingly made polle the sans equivalent here (it kind of fits…???) but i think he’d just be a normal monster… he fits right in. WHO DOES HE REMIND ME OF….

…

aaron and burgerpants…

anyway, if you read all of this (wowie!!) i hope you enjoyed my crazed ramblings!! here’s a cookie for you!! 🍪

[soneybeee]

Sweet

Summary: Privacy is hard to come by on the Tulpar. Daisuke and the old porn magazine he found while cleaning a storage closet are harder.

Sub!Daisuke x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+! Very minimal plot. Sub!Daisuke, needy!Daisuke, fem!reader, Daisuke is very sexually frustrated, Daisuke jerks off to a model that looks like reader, little bit of hair pulling, some degradation + praise, oral (F receiving), face sitting, kind of thigh riding?, male masturbation, choking, premature ejaculation, slight overstimulation, use of "good boy", cum play?... I think that's all!

Daisuke flips through the pages of the stupid magazine he found. At least half of them are ripped out - Whoever left it in the storage closet must have kept the ones they liked. That doesn’t leave much material for Daisuke. He’s left with half-dressed, bikini-clad, censored models. He has a good imagination, but not when he’s trying to jerk off! He just wants something to look at for fuck’s sake!

The very last page is the jackpot. She’s naked except for her panties - Daisuke can work with that! It helps she has similar features to you. Really helps.

Really, really helps, apparently. He’s already leaking precum when he gets his dick free, smearing a glob on the inside of his boxers. He shudders and curses under his breath, wrapping a shaky hand around his throbbing cock.

“Fuuck…” He groans, holding the magazine tightly enough that it bends in around his fingers. “Y/N…”

He bites down on his lip. He can’t be making any noises right now. His quarters don’t have a lock. The very last thing he needs right now is someone walking in - Especially you. If you heard him saying your name while he jerks off, you would not only hate him, but you could report him! His career would be over before it even began, and he’d be outcast on the Tulpar for the rest of the mission. Even Jimmy would hate him.

Daisuke lets his eyes shut so his imagination can take over. The model who looks like you is posed with her legs spread, her underwear covering her vulva but her tits out, ripe for viewing. He tries to imagine you sitting in front of him like that, your perfect boobs and your warm pussy just inches away, on display just for him. He would bury his nose in that thin, damp cotton and just breathe you in for as long as you’d let him. He would pull the fabric aside with his teeth and lick your slick away until it’s all replaced with his saliva. 

If you’d let him, he would fuck you. Oh, he would fuck you. He hasn’t had sex in a couple years, but he thinks about it constantly, especially since he boarded the Tulpar. It’s been torture being trapped in space with no privacy and no material. This magazine was supposed to be his saving grace, but it’s just not doing it for him.

Imagination just isn’t enough for him. He needs some porn or something, something where the plot is already there for him to enjoy. He’s not good at coming up with it on his own! 

He huffs out a frustrated breath. This is so not fair. He’s basically still a teenage boy, he shouldn’t be subjected to this kind of torment. It’s painful, truly painful. 

He tries to stroke faster, squeeze harder, fuck up into his own fist. It doesn’t do much. He just needs something more.

“Daisuke?” A voice calls from the hall. There’s only two women on board, and that’s definitely not Anya’s voice. Daisuke’s eyes go wide with panic. He crumples the magazine in his hand and tries to pull his pants up as quickly as he can.

He’s not fast enough.

“Daisu- Oh! There you are, I’ve been looking for you!” You only spot his face at first. His guilty, flushed face. That expression makes you look him over, from head to toe. “Oh.”

He swallows, trying to subtly cover his unzipped fly with his forearm. “Hi. Hello. You were looking for me?”

“Uh-huh…” You narrow your eyes, unconvinced by his innocent act. “Yeah, I was… What’re you up to?”

“Um,” He looks around aimlessly. “Nothing.”

“Right.” You step into the room and close the door behind you. Daisuke tenses. His dick twitches in his pants. “Nothing.”

He nods weakly, his eyes locked on you as you walk closer. And closer. And then you’re right in front of him, cocking your head to the side as if you already know everything he was doing.

“Nothing,” You move his arm out of the way, planting a knee down between his thighs on the creaky mattress. He tries to move it back, cover up the tent in his pants, hide the evidence, but you don’t let him. “You weren’t doing something dirty, were you?”

He lets out a shallow little breath, a failed attempt at a laugh. “N-No. Of course not.”

You move your knee higher up between his legs, letting it press against his bulge.

“You sure?”

He whimpers. Truly fucking whimpers. It’s pathetic and guilty and so inviting. 

“Thought so…” You murmur, grinding your knee into his clothed cock, watching the way he starts to squirm. “Did I interrupt?”

“I wasn’t…” He tries to deny it - It’s a real, honest attempt - But it’s no use. You know. “Yes…”

“Oh, you poor thing,” You coo, resting your hand on his cheek. He leans into your palm like a cat. “Were you close?”

He shakes his head. “No… Can’t do it…”

You smirk, tilting his head down so he’s watching you knee his dick. You press your forehead into his so you can watch as well. “Aw, you can’t? Do you need some help?”

His groan is more than enough of an answer. He looks up at you, his head still tilted down. It’s the prettiest fucking thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Please.”

It’s the prettiest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. 

Your hand wraps around his throat, squeezing gently at the sides. You can tell by the way his lips part and his eyes unfocus that he likes the feeling. 

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” You whisper, moving your other hand down to his pants. You only have to pop open the button and tug the denim down. He’s straining in his boxers and started soaking through the fabric. 

But you don’t take his dick out. Instead, you start to take your own pants off. Daisuke is half expecting (and hoping) you’re wearing a strap-on or something - The way you take control is making him think of things he’s never considered before. If he was gonna let anyone peg him, it would be you. 

But there’s no silicone instrument under your pants. Just a pair of blue underwear, which is even better right now. Daisuke wants to lick you.

And then your underwear is on the ground and Daisuke really wants to lick you.

“Y/N.” He mumbles, his eyes locked on to what he can see of your cunt. He feels spit pooling in his mouth. If he opens it again, he’s sure he’ll drool.

“Daisuke,” You climb onto the bed on your knees and slowly push him down onto his back. “Are you gonna be a good boy? Gonna lick my pussy?”

Oh, fuck. He whines, shifting impatiently on the bed. His hands have a mind of their own. They find the back of your thighs - God, your thighs - And urge you up towards his face.

“Sit on my face,” He pleads softly, feeling desperate. He’s never felt so foggy before. All he wants is to taste you, feel your thighs around his head, breathe you in. “Please.”

You thread your fingers through his hair, holding his head in the right position. You slowly crawl up towards his head, setting your knees on the shitty mattress on either side of it. You don’t sit down just yet.

“Make me come,” You tell him, no room for disagreement. Not that he would ever dare to pass up an opportunity like this. “If you don’t, we’re never doing this again.”

He tries to lick you, lifting himself up as much as he can before you pull his hair and guide him back to how you want him. 

“Did you hear me?” You sound stricter this time. 

“Yes, yes…” Daisuke shuts his eyes, frustrated. “I’ll be good, I’ll make you come. I’ll be a good boy.”

“Mm… that’s what I like to hear.” You purr, slowly lowering yourself down onto his face.

His mouth is ready. He’s licking messy stripes up your cunt before you’re even down all the way. The round tip of his nose bumps your clit. You can tell he’s going on passion alone, but it makes you feel good, much better than you were expecting.

You don’t tell him that, though.

“C’mon,” You chastise, voice breathless. “I know you can do better than that.”

He whines into your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue across it until you moan. He’s proud of himself for getting that reaction out of you, laving his tongue down your folds until he’s at your hole. He pushes his tongue past the pulsing muscle, his eyes rolling back as he gets a good taste of you. You’re heady and sweet and so fucking delicious.

“That’s it…” You tighten your grip on his hair, absentmindedly rolling your hips against his face. “Good boy.”

Fuck, that gets to him. He feels his hips buck up off the bed, his cock twitching, achy and leaking. 

He could stay between your legs forever, lapping up your juices and nuzzling your clit for hours on end. If you’d let him. Maybe you would. You are letting him do this, after all.

All of his focus is on making you come. He’s never made a girl finish before, admittedly. Not for lack of trying, but simply lack of skill. But he feels confident this time. What he lacks in skill he makes up for in sheer need.

He wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling you further down onto his face. He can barely breathe, but he doesn’t need to breathe. He needs to get you off. Needs to prove to you that he deserves your attention, your touch. That you should let him do this again - Everyday, if he can.

It’s actually embarrassing how quickly Daisuke gets you off. It feels like almost no time has passed when your legs start to shake, your back arches, and your thighs tighten around his head. He makes a noise, a high-pitched keen, almost a squeal, but you barely even notice it as you come. You gush onto his tongue, into his mouth. He’s squirming under you, lapping your wetness up and kissing your damp skin as much as he can. 

You lift yourself up onto shaky legs, holding the headboard to keep yourself upright. Daisuke is panting under you, trembling even more than you are.

“Did you come?” He whispers, looking up at you pleadingly, his pretty eyes genuinely worried that he failed.

“Mhm,” You brush his hair out of his face. “You did… so good, honey…”

“Tell me I’m a good boy…” He licks his lips, and then around them, trying to get his tongue to reach his chin and nose. 

“You’re a very good boy,” You coo, wiping your slick off of his face with your thumb. He eagerly sucks your thumb into his mouth. “A very good fucking boy… Jesus…”

You sink back onto your butt, trying to catch your breath. It’s then that you let your eyes drift down to his boxers.

His soaked boxers. 

You push your palm down, feeling the cum stick to his dick under the fabric. He twitches and gasps, sitting up onto his elbows.

“Oh, honey,” You purr, smearing his cum around in his boxers, ruining the cotton and coating his cock in his release. He’s not fucking real. He came from eating you out. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He mewls, his legs squeezing together and bending at the knee, trying to push your hand away from his sensitive bulge. “Y/N…”

“Alright, alright,” You smile, taking your hand off of his boxers. You give his thigh a comforting squeeze and feel him relax under your touch. “Next time.”

Maybe Daisuke won’t have to worry about being pent up anymore.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + seventeen

authors note: this chapter covers the aftermath of solana's attempt in the previous chapter. please heed to content warnings in order to make an informed decision regarding reading this chapter.

i'm going to handle solana's experience in the hospital as realistically as i can, but there are creative liberties taken as well. and don't come for me for the ending either. :/

cw/tw: angst, discussion and coverage of the aftermath of a suicide attempt, mental health discussions.

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

masterlist

words: 15k

Roman has a long to-do list. He always does and always will. But, this is by far one of the last things he wants to do. 

He’s going on 24 hours of no sleep, which isn’t the first time he’s done as such, but it’s the first time he’s done as such and actually felt the impact of the sleep deprivation. And truth be told, deep down he knows the exhaustion that he feels is more mental than anything.

It’s the result of the toll that finding out Solana tried to kill herself has taken on him. 

Is taking on him.

But, he can’t deal with that shit right now. He can’t deal with it because he’s got his Wise Man, Rikishi, Solo, Jimmy and Jey all sitting around him, wearing various levels of confused expressions. Which only irritates Roman more because Rikishi and Paul are the only ones who should be confused. The twins have been with him dealing with all of the shit the past 24 hours. 

Solo too.

Rikishi is the first to speak, studying Roman. The Tribal Chief is more than sure he noticed the grimace on Roman’s face as he went to roll his shoulders, remembering yet again of the wound that probably won’t heal as quickly as predicted given the fact he’s done the complete opposite of ‘taking it easy.’

“You gonna tell us what happened or—”

“There was an assassination attempt on Solana’s life last night.” Roman’s sentence is matter-of-fact and to the point, nevermind the fact that his right hand forms into a fist at just saying as such. 

Rikishi and Paul share shocked expressions, Roman’s older cousin being the one to ask, “is she—”

“Bullet hit me instead. Didn’t lodge. I’ll be fine.” Roman only adds that last part because of the horrified look on Paul’s face, already knowing his Wise Man will bombard him with questions about his injury. “Xavier Miller and his boy were behind the attempt. I’m handling them now.” 

“But sir, why would Miller want his own daughter dead?”

Roman closes his eyes and rolls his neck, working to settle his rising temper. He hates talking about this shit. It only spikes his eagerness to get his hands on Miller and rip him apart limb by limb. “Because she didn’t go along with his plan.”

Rikishi speaks up again. “Plan?”

Roman’s jaw clenches. “He wanted her to kill me.” 

The rest of the men look equally shocked, Paul gasping loudly, asking, “she’s a traitor?”

If looks could kill, Paul would be six feet under. Roman has to mentally restrain from acting out on his suddenly murderous urges. “She’s my wife.”

Rikishi, however, seemingly tosses his longtime friend a lifeline, trying to reason with his younger cousin. “Uce, that doesn’t mean she can’t be both—”

“What I’m hearing….” Solo surprises the men around the table as he sits forward. “—is that she can’t be trusted.”

Roman isn’t sure just how much of his anger and rage at the accusations being slung against Solana is showing, his Solana, but it must be enough for the twins, of all people, to try and de-escalate.

“Come on now, this is Soso we talking about.” Jimmy is the first to kick off peacemaking. He looks at his father, “pops, you was there when we first met her. She was nervous as shit. Ain’t nothing about that girl dangerous.”

Jey chimes in, handling Solo. “And you of all people should definitely know that’s not Solana. She would never hurt nobody, let alone kill nobody.”

Solo, however, simply scoffs. “Like she ain’t hurt her brother?”

“What was she supposed to do? Let him beat her?” Jimmy is the one to snap, shouting back with a suck of his teeth, “man, that bitch deserved it!”

Rikishi jumps in, defending his younger son. “I think what Solo is trying to say is that it proves she is, in fact, capable of hurting someone if she wanted to.”

“Why would she want to hurt Roman? That don’t even make no—”

“Enough!” Roman’s fist slams down on the table. “The next person to say one more negative thing about my wife is getting a bullet in their fucking skull.” There’s a blanket of silence, all of the men knowing that Roman would absolutely carry through on this threat. A promise, really. 

Roman swallows, both from anger and something else he can’t pinpoint. “Solana tried to kill herself last night. What in the fuck about that presents a danger?” He doesn’t care enough to observe the reactions of that news. Doesn’t give a fuck. “The only person she’s a danger to is herself.”

Paul is the brave soul, or perhaps just stupidly and naively asking, “is she—okay?” 

“I said tried, didn’t I?” Roman snaps, forcing the pudgy man to recoil back in his seat. Roman clenches his jaw yet again, directing his statement to the next older man. “Rikishi.” He runs a hand over his face. “Meet with the Elders. Tell them about the assassination attempt. That it was Miller. Nothing about the plan. And leave it at that.”

Rikishi removes his glasses, sitting up at the table. “Roman, the Elders should know—” 

“The Elders know what I want them to know, and I want them to know that someone tried to kill my wife, and I’m handling it. That’s it.” Incapable of dealing with any more of this shit, Roman stands up from the chair, turning his back on the rest of his family. “Wise Man, let’s go.”

The obese man also shoots up from the chair, nearly tripping over his feet as he wordlessly follows Roman out of the room. 

Left alone is just Rikishi and his sons, the patriarch asking, “she tried to kill herself?”

Jimmy and Jey wear similar frowns, recalling the horrific truth they learned about their ‘Soso’ just hours prior. Jimmy shuts his eyes, unable to push away the memory of a hysterical Naomi throwing herself into his chest at the memory of finding Solana unconscious. 

“It’s….it’s a long story,” Jey answers in a low voice, wanting to be respectful. Aware or not, Solana’s story is hers to tell and hers only. 

Truthfully, he’s slightly surprised Roman even disclosed that part of the past 24 hours. 

“Yeah, there’s a lot of the story that Roman left out,” Solo suddenly finds his voice again, sharing directly to his father and brothers. “Like the fact that Roman took that bullet for her.”

“What?” Riksihi asks, shock stamped all over his voice. 

“I was right there. I saw the whole thing. He pushed her out the way.”

Jimmy shrugs. “He protected his wife. What’s wrong with that? We all would have done the same.”

Jey nods in agreement. Rikishi looks torn. 

Solo continues, pointing out. “But, Roman ain’t like us. He’s the Tribal Chief. He needs to act like it.”

“Careful, son,” Rikishi cautions, seemingly breaking from his conflicted state. “Your Uce sits at the head of the table for a reason. His ways may be unorthodox at times, but his reign won’t be questioned. We won’t disrespect him.”

Solo scoffs. “But you’ll disrespect the other Elders by lying for him?”

Jey jumps in, chiding, “man, what’s up with you tonight?”

Solo scoffs, pointing to himself. “Me? I’m not the one whose judgment is clouded. We all know if this was one of us and the roles were reversed with our wives, Roman would want them executed. He’s not thinking straight.” Solo looks around the room, noticing there’s a brief second of silence. “Ya’ll see it too. I’m just the only one who’s willing to say it. Roman is losing focus—”

“That’s enough, Solo.” Rikishi raises his voice, firmer, that of a father. “You’re out of line, son.” 

Solo looks around the room, halfway waiting for his older brothers to jump to his defense, to agree with what they have to know is the truth. But, when that doesn’t happen, he also shoots up from the table, rocking it in the process, leaving the room without another word.

Once gone, Jimmy motions with his thumb. “Man, he is tripping.” He shakes his head, asking his father, “you want us to talk to him?”

“No.” Rikishi answers almost immediately, sighing heavily, running his hand over his face. “I’ll do it….you all just….watch Roman.” He stands up, as Jey mutters something about having the hard job. “And sons….this conversation doesn’t leave this room, understood?” Jimmy and Jey look slightly confused and taken back, Rikishi explaining, “I know you’re both closer with Roman. But, he’s just your cousin. Solo is your brother. He’s definitely tripping, but he’s still your family too, and there’s nothing more important than brotherhood, alright?”

________

Roman awakens with a heavy sigh that’s followed by his eyes closing. 

His sleep has been shit the past few days, and it’s been solely because his bed is cold and empty on the other side. Because he’s sleeping alone, something he once cherished but now can barely tolerate. He didn’t realize just how much he enjoyed Solana’s soft body pressed up against him, the satisfaction he felt waking up to her every morning.

Now, he just awakens to silence or the sound of Dulce whimpering or barking. 

Dulce’s whimpers on the side of the bed remind him of the fact that she’s still sleeping in his room. In their room. On Solana’s side.

Her empty side.

Moving the blankets off, Roman swings his big body over the side of the bed and walks over to motion for her to follow him. “Come on.”

He knows she has to empty her bladder, but he’s grateful for a reason to leave the space that reeks of Solana, a constant reminder of her absence. 

It’s….an experience, to say the least. 

Picking her up, he carries her down the steps, through the house, and out the back sliding door by the kitchen. Roman places her in the grass, letting her do her business as he goes to sit down on the edge of one of the chaise lounge.

He closes his eyes.

Love. 

Suck a weird fucking thing. Something he’s never really understood. 

Or felt. 

Not….not in this aspect at least. 

He’s always been confounded by the emotion that makes people act so outside of their character, clouds their judgment, and seizes their brain in crippling ways. He never saw the appeal in it. Never wanted it.

And then came Solana. 

If someone had told him four months ago that he’d not only be married to a woman he actually cares about let alone would end up loving, he’d probably knock them flat on their ass. Harshly criticize their stupidity at the very least. 

Falling in love with Solana was never the plan. He never wanted this for himself. He just needed to marry to create an official heir. And that was it. She would do her thing, taking care of the kid and whatnot. And he would still do him, continuing his life of commitment free sexual relations with whoever was his flavor of the week. Or day. 

And yet all of that, just the thought of it, sours his expression. 

He doesn’t want anyone other than Solana. Doesn’t desire to be intimate with anyone other than her. It’s her he wants to wake up to every morning, her he wants to make happy. He just wants her. Nobody else.

Because he loves her.

And it’s a shocking, life changing realization he finally stumbled into while sitting at her hospital bed. An epiphany he’s certain was heavily transitioned from subconscious to conscious given the events that transpired that night.

She almost died, was almost shot, and there’s not a fucking part of him would do anything differently. He’d take that bullet and any other bullet for her anytime. 

Because he loves her.

He stood between her and her piece of shit father, not thinking twice about it, only knowing that decision would forever negatively change her life. Thinking how he promised her he would never let her end up in that position. 

Because he loves her. 

And he sat at her hospital bed, holding her hand, pouring his heart out to her because the second those infamous words left Jey’s mouth, his world nearly collapsed. He couldn’t think straight as he rushed to the hospital, uncaring and uninterested in anything except being with her, holding her, catering to her. Whatever she needed. He just needs her to be okay. 

Because he loves her.

Roman’s head tilts back, the weight of all this lying on his chest. 

He can’t deny it. Can’t deny he loves her. Not to himself, at least. He just doesn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

There’s…..there’s no room for love in his life. No place for it. Love is weakness, and Roman has never and can never be weak. He’s the Tribal Chief. The Head of the Table. The leader of the Bloodline and Cosa Nostra. There is no space for weakness.

Or love. 

And yet….it’s there.

It’s there for her. 

Dulce walking over to the chaise lounge that Roman realizes is usually the one she sits on when she’s writing brings him back to the sadness that creeps in at her absence. Dulce must feel the same as she lays down, ears also down, whimpering.

Roman beckons her over, watching as she slowly walks over to his feet, ears still down as he picks her up and places her on his lap. It’s something not even a week ago he would probably do. But, that was then, and this is now. 

And now, he almost feels a sense of duty to Solana’s puppy. 

Because it’s this same puppy, he’s learned, that barked nonstop at Bayley and Naomi, running over to Solana and starting to cry, effectively alerting them that something was wrong.

Very wrong.

With an uncharacteristic level of emotion, Roman gently strokes the top of her head. “You saved her life….” For his own mental sanity, Roman chooses not to think about what the alternative could have been. What his reality would be if this small, five pound animal didn’t have such a close, protective bond to her human. “Thank you.”

Dulce whimpers in response, laying her body on his lap, staring at the empty pool chair. 

Roman sighs, eyes shutting again. 

The emotion is undeniable as he acknowledges in a soft voice. “I miss her too..”

This shit is much harder than he realized. 

________

Roman: How are you doing? 

Solana glances at her lock screen at hearing the familiar, personalized notification sound. The sound she set specifically for texts from her husband. Her smile is already set on her face but settles into something deeper as another message slides in.

Roman: Do you need me to come home?

Placing the pencil down on the nearest surface, she swaps out her task at hand for a brief break to respond to the question she anticipated would be proposed at some point in the day. 

Just not this soon, perhaps.

Solana wipes one hand on her shorts, the other unlocking her phone to open his thread. Preparing to reply, her gaze shifts over to her sweet baby boy, sleeping peacefully in his infant pillow. Low, relaxing music plays from her Alexa on the nightstand, lulling and keeping him in his slumber. Similarly, Dulce lays peacefully in her bed on Solana’s side of the bed, curled into a little ball.

The smile somehow grows deeper.

Solana: I’m okay. You don’t need to come home, really.

Solana quickly snaps a photo of the baby and includes it with her next message.

Solana: We’re good. :) 

Solana brings her finger to gently caress her son’s cheek. He has such a calm disposition about him. Even at 6 weeks. She can just see he’s taken on more of her demeanor than his dad’s. Granted, she also noticed the same thing about her oldest twin, only for her to gradually be morphing into the female version of her father.

Roman hearting the photo captures her attention once again followed by his reply, which seems to be the result of long distance mind reading.

Roman: He’s been a lot easier than the girls were. But, time will tell. 

Roman: Where are they?

She giggles, imagining his elongated sigh as he considers what could be in store for them once their son starts to get bigger and older. Can move around and get into things with his sisters. It’s more likely than not bound to happen.

Solana: In their playrooms. They’ve been surprisingly quiet too….for now. Lol

Solana knows her girls well enough to know silence with them, mostly when they’re together, isn’t usually long lived. The quieter of the two is very much like Solana, able to stay and keep to herself just fine without making much or any noise. Her sister, however, older by 6 minutes exactly, is not.

She is rambunctious and loud and loves to be moving. And when they’re together, that adventurous nature rubs off on Solana’s twin, usually resulting in them getting into something. More often than not.

Roman: I talked to them last night. Reminded them it's important they listen and help you out.

This is something she already knew, having overheard as he put them to bed while she catered to their newborn. He’s done that a lot since the birth of their son. Really taken over as much as he can with helping the girls, when it’s something he can do. And if he can’t do it, like them wanting to do art with her or bake something, usually the youngest vs the oldest, he’s on baby duty. 

Whether he realizes it or not, he truly is great at being a dad. Though something tells her, always has, that even three kids deep, he struggles with that insecurity at not being good at it.

Not being good enough.

Roman: I still think it was too early for me to come back to work and leave you alone with everything.

And there it is. What Solana already knew he was thinking but is happy to see him finally admit. Roman’s been working from home the past six weeks, since the birth of their son. And while she’s appreciated having him home, helping her out with managing their growing family, it was time for him to return back to the ‘office.’ 

She knows he worries about her, worries about her feeling overwhelmed, but she’s been good the past few years with being open with him. That hasn’t and won’t change. 

Solana: You were going to have to go back eventually, Ro. I’m okay, really. The girls really don’t cause me any issues. And he’s easy.

Solana: Outside of when he’s groping and squeezing the mess out of my breast. 😅

Breastfeeding has never been much of an issue for Solana. And, while it was definitely a bit of a challenge breastfeeding twins, there was never a pressing enough problem for her to not consider doing the same for her third child.

Granted, unlike the girls who, at most, felt around her breast while getting their fill, her son is more handsy. His little palms often slapping, squeezing and even scratching with his nails she makes sure to try to keep cut low. 

She chuckles, thinking about how this could very much be another small sign she’s in store for yet another energetic child. It lines up though. Even when he’s sleepy, little scowl on his face, she sees Roman. In all of the children, really. But with him, the way his little lips dip and light eyebrows cave into a look of unmistakable disapproval, usually when she takes too long to pick him up or feed him, that’s all Roman.

Roman: Smart kid. 

She giggles, sending out a reply that’s a result of years of growing more comfortable with teetering the lines of risque topics and innuendos.

Solana: Your kid, clearly. 😅

Roman: Damn straight.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she keeps the conversation going with another risky text. 

Solana: Just two more weeks until I’m….cleared. 

Over the years, and as she’s continued to heal, Solana has found herself with a sexual appetite that’s nowhere near her husband’s nor most women her age, but it’s there. Coming and going. Ebbing and flowing. And lately, it’s been on the flowing side.

Roman: We should wait longer. 

Roman: I’m not taking any risks.

She sighs at his reply that’s not entirely unsurprising. He absolutely would want to go past the recommended 8 weeks that she was told by her doctor that they would need to wait to resume intimacy. An extended period of time than the usual 6 weeks due to the second degree tear she sustained while birthing her third child. A thing that can happen during childbirth and wasn’t anything too serious, but something she knows her husband sees as just that.

Thus him wanting to not ‘take any risks.’ 

Solana: I understand.

Understanding is different from agreeing, but she won’t push him on it. 

Solana: Besides, don’t want to risk another baby.

Solana: Just yet anyway….

Having this conversation over text probably isn’t the way to go, but she has no doubt he’ll talk with her about it more in person when he comes home tonight, after all three kids are down for bed.

That doesn’t mean they can’t start it now, at least, though.

Roman: Seriously? You really want another baby?

Roman: He isn’t even a year yet.

Roman: You forget I’m 10 years older than you. I’m getting too old for all these kids, Solana.

It’s true they just welcomed their baby boy not even two months ago. And Roman is aging. He’s older, the gray in his beard spreading by the day, but he’s still just as active and fit into his forties as he was when they met years prior. Thus, he’s exaggerating. 

Solana: No, you’re not.

Solana: And that wasn’t a no…..

His reply comes in a bit quicker than she was anticipating. 

Roman: It wasn’t. 

She smiles. Solana has learned her husband well over the years. Knows him well enough to know that if there wasn’t a part of him also interested in maybe having another child, he would be clear about his standpoint. He would express his disagreement. 

So his comment would suggest he’s not team no. That he’s open, and his following texts confirm as such.

Roman: But, this would be it. Four is more than enough.

She smiles, knowing that this definitely will still be discussed in person tonight but happy that he’s unwilling to deny himself. Solana’s love for him has only deepened since seeing him step into the role of fatherhood. 

She just wishes she could get him to see how good he is at this. The girls wouldn’t adore him as much as they do if he was bad at it, per se.

But, he’s not.

If only he could see it. 

Solana: Unless we get another set of twins….😅

Roman: Jesus Christ 

Solana giggles, imagining the look he must have on his face. Probably similar to when they found out about the girls. She wasn’t entirely surprised given how strongly twins run on his side of the family.

But, he most certainly was.

A quiet knock pulls her from the conversation as she lays her eyes on the twins who are waiting by the door with hesitant expressions. She waves them over, placing her finger over her mouth to remind them to be quiet to avoid waking up the still sleeping baby.

They tip toe over to her, moving to her side of the bed, leaning over and looking at him. The oldest is the one to ask, whispering, “why does he sleep so much, mama?”

Solana chuckles. “That’s what babies do. They need a lot of sleep to grow big and strong.”

The quieter of the two of them deviates from her usual silence to predict, “he’s gonna be big and strong like papa.”

The oldest, however, doesn’t hesitate to reiterate. “I’m still gonna be the tribal chief though.”

Solana has such a torn reaction she does well at hiding. As much as she loves how much her technically first born admires Roman and wants to be just like him, she also has no idea just what it is that Roman really does. The true weight that comes with wearing the Ula Fala. 

Or the fact that by his family’s laws and traditions, their son is the true heir to the Bloodline. Granted, she also suspects it’s those same laws and traditions Roman will fight tooth and nail to change should their daughter, even after knowing the truth about the Bloodline, still want to pursue taking his place when the time comes for him to step down.

Roman would do anything to give her just as much a chance to the keys to the kingdom as her brother.

But, that’s so far down the line, and Solana doesn’t like thinking about it too much. She just wants to enjoy her children as they are now, innocent and oblivious.

Ms. Quiet stays on her talking streak, asking quietly, “can we still go to aunt Bayley’s house today?”

Solana nods. She briefly forgot about that, but it’s still very much doable. “Of course.” 

The girls gasp and look at each other, Solana already knowing another request is about to follow. Roman’s little twin ends up being the one to ask, “mama, can we go see papa at his office before?”

She shouldn’t be surprised. One of their favorite things to do is stop by and see Roman while he’s at work. Something she hasn’t done in some time, not since the birth of her son and even then, it had been a few months.

Solana starts to text and ask him if he’s busy, but one look at the happiness on the girls’ faces at being able to see their dad, and she knows she doesn’t need to.

She knows there’s no way on God’s green earth that he would turn them away, even if he stopped or canceled a meeting just to interact with them.

That’s just the kind of father he is.

His kids come first. 

With excitement bubbling in her stomach at seeing her husband, Solana takes a glance at her son, smile growing as he stirs, clearly just as ready to see daddy. 

She then looks back at her just excited girls, sharing, “time to go see papa.”

“Time to get up.”

Solana has to blink a couple of times to reorient herself, almost entirely due to the shocking nature of her dream. A dream she’s now had every night since being admitted to the hospital, glimpses, and what feels like peeks, into the future.

Her future.

But, at the same time, it’s a distant thing that seems unattainable and unrealistic given where she is now. On a legally mandated psychiatric hold after attempting to die by suicide.

“You up, sweetie?”

Solana nods and sits up in the bed, accepting the water and pills in the small medicine bowl. She doesn’t hesitate to swallow all three, offering a small smile to the nurse who’s been assigned to her, making sure she takes her medication as prescribed.

The nurse, Carol, she thinks, reminds, “breakfast starts in twenty.”

Solana nods, pushing back some of her hair, waiting for the older woman to leave before she lays back down on the bed. 

She shuts her eyes. 

The past few days have been…..an experience. An emotional ride unlike any she’s been on in years. The last time she can recall struggling and feeling as heavy as she was was when she woke up from her coma and had it confirmed that her mother was dead. Something she knew but held onto the invisible string of hope that Nina somehow survived. 

Even though Solana still recalls the moment she heard and saw her mother take her last breath. 

It’s a weight that’s lessened tremendously over the past couple of days, since she woke up yet a second time, less irrational, not as hysterical. Part of her reaction was most definitely due to still feeling suicidal, still believing that being dead would be better for everyone. But her reaction was exacerbated by the fact that two male nurses moved to restrain her as she tried to move from the hospital bed. Having male hands on her like that was triggering and made her emotions that much more difficult to manage in an already tense situation.

But the second time she awoke, Solana saw nothing but women. Truth be told, she’s only had women on her care team since being admitted. It’s made such a big difference. 

All of it has.

Being in this space, so separated from the outside world. It’s been both difficult and welcomed. A nice escape from a recently draining reality but also a heavy separation that she’s brought up a couple times now in her individual therapy sessions with her therapist, Gail.

That is the difficulty in being separated from Roman. It’s a dichotomy. As much as she wants to see and talk to him, she wants to hide and avoid him. She wants to explain yet also never have to discuss it again. An avoidance behavior that is typical for survivors of suicide attempts, another thing she’s learned in therapy thus far. 

But more than anything, Solana just wants to talk to him. She remembers from when she was admitted as a teen following her first attempt that communication is typically cut off from the outside. She just didn’t realize it would be the same protocol as an adult. 

Something intended to avoid patients from being re-triggered. She gets that, but it doesn't make her miss him any less. 

This is the first time they’ve been separated from one another since before the wedding, and it’s not a fun experience. 

But yet….

It’s not a horrible experience either.

No one wants to be in the hospital. And no one definitely wants to be in the hospital on a legal hold because they’ve been deemed a danger to themselves and thus needs 24/7 supervision.

That part sucks, but what hasn’t sucked for Solana is being able to be as honest and vulnerable as she needs to be. To cry and fully acknowledge the extent of her feelings, to be as raw as she’s been in her therapy sessions thus far with Gail. The woman whose kind smile, non-judgemental and self-disclosure of also being violated has created such a safe space for her. 

Solana knew, knows, that she can talk to Roman. That he’s made it clear there’s nothing she can’t discuss with him. But, there’s something about speaking to another woman, someone who’s also sadly been through something similar that’s….that’s healing, almost. 

Knowing Carol will be back for another reminder about breakfast, Solana pulls from her thoughts and leaves her bed to start her day.

Everything in the hospital is planned, time cut out for everything from meds, breakfast, group therapy, individual therapy and more. There’s only so much time in the day that’s reserved as ‘free time,’ though being hospitalized doesn’t present a ton of options for one to choose from during said ‘free time.’

However, Solana has always been able to occupy herself and keep herself busy, and this is no different. 

Later that day, she’s in one of the common areas, utilizing her free time with one of her favorite coping mechanisms. One she’s recently revisited and brought back to lean on. Pencil in hand, Solana uses the sketchbook she was given by Gail. No particular drawing in mind, it’s not missed on her how the bare bones outline of the face she’s drawing has very similar features to that of her husband.

“Hey.”

Solana lifts her head from the page, landing on two women who she’s seen in passing and up close in her group therapy. Both are brunette with similar heights yet different builds. The shorter one looks like she keeps herself in the gym, slender muscles visible even with the hospital provided clothing they all wear. The other is a few inches taller and curvier, her breast stretched against the material. The shorter one is the one who spoke. One looks amenable, the other does not. The one who spoke is, unfortunately, not the one with the friendly expression.

Solana swallows, gaze somewhat traveling as she sees one of the orderlies already watching the interaction. Closely. He’s a big man whose size looks disproportionate to the job he holds here, and she’s noticed him watching her a couple of times. Yet, it’s never been a predatory gaze. Almost…..protective.

“Solana, right?” She nods as the two women plop on the other sofa adjacent to the one Solana sits on. “I’m AJ, and this is Candice.” She gestures to the other woman with her thumb, the brunette waving and smiling almost giddily. Before Solana can say anything else, AJ is leaned over, asking in a low voice. “You’re Roman’s wife, right?”

Solana tenses. For some reason, that rubs her the wrong way, sends an unfamiliar chill up her spine. Something in her tells her to lie, but it’s no use in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

AJ snorts and sits back, arm lazily lounged up on the top of the sofa. “Well, I was gonna ask you how’d you end up here, but I guess that’s an obvious answer.” AJ laughs darkly, making her comment to Candice but directing it towards Solana. “I’d try to off myself too if I had to be married to that son of a bitch.”

Clearly, Solana has not been in a good place recently, hence her current situation. Her emotions have been all over the place. That’s why she chalks up her next actions to the fact that she’s still coming down from her relapse. 

Closing up the sketchpad, Solana sits up and doesn't stutter as she states clearly and concisely to AJ, “you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, so why don’t you just shut up and leave me alone?” 

Candice's shock matches that of Solana’s, but the former doesn’t back down. Doesn’t suddenly regret her statement. Maybe it’s adrenaline. Maybe it’s the fact that Solana feels the anger stirring inside her at even the insinuation that Roman could ever be the cause of her trying to end her life.

When he’s the one that saved it. 

AJ, however, doesn’t look shocked. She looks pissed off.

And then she’s smiling. 

“Oh, sweetie, you have no idea who you’re messing with.” AJ starts to stand up, Candice following suit though she looks more confused and dumbfounded than anything. Like she’s there but not here. “Your psychopath husband isn’t here to save you—”

“You lay one hand on her, and I’ll snap your fucking neck like a twig.”

Three sets of eyes land on the figure who’s way too big for them to have not heard his footsteps, but that’s exactly what’s happened. The orderly who Solana has noticed watching her since her admission is standing almost protectively beside where she still sits on the sofa. His gaze and voice are hard as steel, focused on AJ and Candice. “I suggest you leave. Now. And stay the hell away from her.”

Solana looks between this man who, for some reason, is defending her and AJ, who still looks more amused than anything. She scoffs. “Of course.” Frowning, Solana is still stuck on the fact that this orderly who’s working in a psychiatric wing for women who’ve tried to kill themselves just threatened to kill another woman when AJ simply turns to walk away, Candice hot on her heel.

And as soon as they're out of the vicinity, the man steps back, as if wanting to grant Solana space. He then exclaims, further deepening her shock, “you’ll be safe here, Mrs. Reigns. You have my word.” 

Mrs. Reigns…..

Solana is suddenly taken back to her birthday trip, the way she was addressed by the pilots, the chef, and anyone else that Roman hired to assist them on their vacation. And that’s when it hits her.

“Bloodline…..” It makes so much sense. Why he’s always seemed to be around when she’s not in her room, the way he’s watched her almost nonstop since she arrived, the way he intervened just now. “You’re Bloodline.”

“Dave.” He offers a small, respectful smile that’s all the answer she needs. “But everyone calls me by my last name, Bautista.”

________

“Hey.”

It’s interesting how a simple word can bring on such a reaction.

Just yesterday, the same word was said to her and followed up with a not terrible but strange interaction.

She can only pray this time around is different. 

Solana takes a second to pause and shut her eyes before she looks up from her inner arm where she works on the assignment given in her first group therapy session.

Her eyes land on three women, all familiar faces because they’re all in her group. However, she’s never directly spoken to them prior to now.

Solana swallows and offers a small smile. “Hi….” 

Solana studies all of them, different in skintones, builds, hair colors and even facial expressions. The one who spoke first pushes her raven hair over shoulder and clears her throat, asking, “is it—is it true that your husband had the orderlies and security replaced with Bloodline members?”

The question takes her back, Solana unsure of how to respond, not because she doesn’t know the answer. She does. Baustista indirectly confirming that he was sent by her husband to watch over her has made Solana realize that it’s not just him who she catches watching her whenever she’s not in her room. It’s other men as well. Big, strong, much too in shape for a job like this.

The only logical thing that makes sense to her is that Roman is, once again, looking out for her. As he always does. 

“That’s pretty fucking cool. If so.” Another one comments, her brunette pulled to the side of her neck as she sits down on the sofa opposite Solana. “It was even better seeing AJ put in her place.”

Solana swallows, quite unsure just how to respond to that. “I—I don’t want to cause any problems.”

The first woman scoffs, also sitting down next to the other lady. “You might not, but AJ does. I honestly don’t know why they don’t put her in the other wing with Victoria.”

“The other wing?”

The third woman breaks her silence, explaining, her voice quiet and typical for her equally unassuming demeanor. “There’s two psychiatric wings here. The one we’re in and another for more….severe cases.”

“I.e. the really crazy bitches.”

“Melina!” The woman with brunette hair shakes her head, smiling a little as she formally introduces everyone. “I’m Mickey. This is Melina, and that’s Cameron, but we call her Cam.”

For some reasons, the names fit all of them, Solana moving to the side as Cam gestures to the space next to her and takes an almost apprehensive seat. 

“Solana—”

“Oh, everyone knows who you are, girl.” Mickey snickers, leaning back into the sofa and crossing her legs over one another. “You might just be my new favorite person.”

Solana frowns, completely lost at this seemingly random title. “I don’t—-I don’t understand.”

“AJ thinks she runs shit around here. Her and that dumbass friend of hers, Candice Michelle.” Melina explains, shaking her head. “AJ definitely should be in the other ward with Victoria. She’s the psychiatrist that runs it. Doesn’t put up with shit. Almost polar opposite of Dr. Stratus.”

Solana doesn’t know much beyond what’s being said, but something tells her she’s most definitely in the better of two places. Even if just getting to have Dr. Stratus manages her meds. She really likes her. 

However, this conversation brings up a very valid question that Solana doesn’t exactly know how to word very well but finds it in her to ask. “So you all….you’ve been here before?” 

It’s obvious, given the fact that they’re all so familiar with each other and dynamics. Same with this AJ and Candice person, but Solana doesn’t want to assume.

There’s a silence that falls over the women, and Solana instantly feels bad, feels silly for not recognizing how invasive that question is. However, before she can apologize, Cam is the one to speak up.

Shrugging, her smile is tight and undeniably sad as she says so simply, “demons are hard to kill.”

And just like that, Solana has never related to something more.

Feeling overcome with an almost duty to share, her eyes drop to her arms, the intricate outlines of butterflies camouflaging the scars that will never fully go away. “I get that……I really do.”

Looking up, Solana feels the set of understanding gazes on her, instantly knowing without any of them needing to share specifics that they just get it. They understand the specific and tragic ways one can end up in a place like this, oftentimes due to demons beyond their slaughtering capabilities. 

Mickey clears her throat, gesturing to Solana’s arm. “You’re really good.”

She glances down at her still unfinished art, a small smile falling on her face. “Thank you.” An idea crosses her mind as she notices each of them attempted to follow through on the assignment as well but clearly struggled. “I can—I can help, if you want?” 

Cam gasps, obviously excited by the idea of it. “Really?”

Solana’s smile grows as she explains, “I—I love art.”

Mickey squeals almost and pulls out a black sharpie from her bra, shrugging with a playful smile. 

“We were kinda hoping you said that.”

________

“You’re quiet today.” Gail’s assessment continues as she asks in a gentle voice, “are you nervous?”

Nervous is an understatement. Solana fidgets on the sofa, running her hands down her sweats. “I—I haven’t seen or spoken to him since….you know.”

Gail presses her lips together, nodding. “You don’t know what to expect.”

Solana nods, eyes starting to water. “I don’t—I don’t want him to be upset with me.” 

It’s officially been a week since Solana has been admitted into the psychiatric ward. An interesting experience, to say the least. She’s made enemies, made ‘friends’, worked through and started to process with a professional so much of her trauma, and more. And while her longing for seeing and speaking to her husband has only continued to grow by the day. The day finally being here where she’s allowed a visitor, where he will come to see her this evening feels almost….it feels too soon.

She’s just so nervous, unsure of what that reunion is going to look like. 

Gail sees the thoughts brewing in her client’s head as she asks in an attempt to redirect, “are you responsible for his emotions?”

“No, but….but I—” When she struggles to get out a coherent response, Gail presents a thought provoking question.

“Solana, based upon what you know about Roman, what’s more likely? That he’ll be upset with you or that he’ll just be happy that you’re alive?”

It’s such a good question, one that has the emotion bubbling in the back of her throat, emotion she shows as silent tears begin to fall. “I—I want him to be happy, but…..”

“You’re still struggling with feeling like a burden to him….” It’s an assessment by her therapist that is wholly correct, but one Solana can’t verbally comment on, only offering her agreement with a silent head nod. “Do you remember the exercise we did a couple of sessions ago about faulty thinking? About the ways your trauma influences your thinking.” 

Solana reflects back on that session, so heavy yet so helpful. It provided her such insight on just how deeply her experiences have painted her view of so much. Of everything, really. Including how she so lowly views herself sometimes. 

“I want you to think about that and compare it to the thoughts that you’re having now……where are they coming from?”

Solana closes her eyes and blows out a breath. “My…my fear.”

“And if your fear was a living, breathing entity sitting opposite beside you right now, how would you combat it? Think about the cognitive challenging we discussed.”

Keeping her eyes shut, Solana travels back to that session, utilizing the skills and tips and knowledge she’s learned since her admission.

She takes an ‘efficient breath’, as Gail calls them. “I’d tell my fear that….that you don’t get to control me anymore.”

Gail smiles softly, gently encouraging the young woman to continue. “What else?”

Silent tears continue to fall, but Solana’s voice remains firm and unwavering. “And that….that Roman cares about me and just wants me to be okay and….and get better.”

Gail hasn’t felt so proud and pleased with a client’s response to the empty chair exercise in quite a while. “Exactly.” She sits back in her own chair, jotting down some notes. “Can I ask what you’re feeling right now?”

Solana finally opens her eyes and wipes at her eyes, scoffing quietly. “A…a little better, actually.” She motions to her chest. “It doesn’t….it doesn’t feel as heavy.”

“Good.” Gail makes note of this and starts to ask a follow up processing question when Solana’s soft voice beats her to it.

“Can…..can I talk about something with you?”

Gail’s grin is warm and welcoming as she offers genuine assurance. “Solana, there’s nothing we can’t discuss here.” She’s pleased to see Solana’s smile grow at this reassurance. “What would you like to talk about?”

Feeling on the spot all of a sudden, despite being the one who initiated the conversation, Solana does her best to manage and push through her anxiety. “I—I’ve been….I’ve been having dreams since I got here.”

Gail is mindful of her expression as she asks in a soft voice, “dreams or…..”

Sensing what she’s asking, Solana quickly shakes her head. “No. Not those. Not nightmares. They….they really are dreams. Good dreams, I—I think.”

Studying her, Gail assesses. “You seem unsure.” 

Deciding to bite the bullet, Solana shares in a low voice, “they’re dreams of me in the future…..as….as a mother.”

Gail nods. “I see.” She makes note of one of Solana’s nonverbals. “You’re smiling right now.”

Sniffling, Solana continues to share and exhibit so much vulnerability, most of which is solely because of how safe and non-judged Gail has made her feel. “In the dreams, we have three kids. Twin girls and a baby boy.” She wipes at her nose and swallows deeply. “I—I want to be a mom someday, but I don’t….I don’t want to be a bad mom.”

If these dreams have shown her anything, it’s that she wants more than anything to be a positive influence in her future child, or children's, lives. She doesn’t want to cause them even a fraction of the parental trauma she’s experienced. 

And deep down, Solana knows that she’s absolutely nothing like her father.

But, she knows she’s very much been deeply impacted by her fathers’ abuse. By all of her trauma. And the last thing she wants is for any of that to negatively influence her children. 

“Solana, what makes you think you could ever be a bad mother?” She shrugs, shutting down a bit. Gail sighs lowly, offering words of affirmation and support. “You are not a bad person. You are not a broken person. Not a damaged person. Just a person who’s been dealt some not so  great cards, but you’re here, working on these things. Working on becoming a healthier version of yourself.” Gail chuckles, pointing out, “that doesn’t sound like a bad future mother to me.”

Really sitting on the words of encouragement and doing her best to not let the self-doubt creep in, Solana asks in a voice barely above a whisper, “do you….do you really think I could be a good mother?”

Gail’s response is almost immediate, not a thought to be had as she answers honestly, “Solana, I think you could be a damn good mother.” 

Solana laughs, emotion seeping in as she nods, utterly grateful for such kind words. “Thank….thank you. That….that means a lot to me.”

“Of course.” Gail would like to process this more, maybe get into some additional trauma work, but there’s another important thing on her agenda for this session. “Solana, as you know, your hold will be up exactly one week from now, meaning you’ll be officially discharged and allowed to return home.”

Solana eyes lighten up at that, an expected reaction as Gail gently slides into a deeper conversation pertaining to her release. “But, there’s something I would like to speak to you about.”

________

Roman doesn’t think twice as he walks into the room that’s suspiciously quiet to be located in a hospital, decorated just as one would expect a therapist’s office to look. He only briefly takes a look around before plopping his big body down on the sofa. 

He didn’t even pay any attention to the fact that Gail was attempting to extend an olive branch, offering a handshake that he so rudely ignored, clearly ready to get this over with.

She keeps her togetherness, offering a verbal introduction. “Thank you for com—”

“This has to do with Solana, right?”

Gail makes a face, pressing her lips together as she chuckles quietly. “Of course.”

“Then get to it.” Roman is quick with the demands, asking, “how is she doing?”

Gail offers a tight smile. “I’m Gail Kim, the therapist on staff who’s been handling Solana’s individual therapy sessions.”

“Did I ask you who you were?” His stare is cold and uninterested. “I asked you how she’s doing.”

Sighing, Gail refers to the tablet on her lap, opening up the notes she’s happy that she prepared ahead of time. This is going exactly as she predicted it would. “Your wife is no longer endorsing suicidal ideation which means she’s denying any thoughts and plans to take her life, which is significant progress considering it’s only been a week—”

There’s a hint of hopefulness in both his expression and voice as he asks, “so, she’s ready to come home?”

Gail hesitates. “Not exactly.”

The previous hopefulness melts into something cold and harsh. Roman is visibly and understandably irritated. “You just said she’s not suicidal anymore.”

“Yes, but it’s not that simple. Solana is….she’s an interesting case. Her trauma history is significant. Though she seems to be on the way to stabilization, there’s still a lot of work that needs to be done. She needs continued professional help.”

“Isn’t that why she’s here with you?” His tone is cruel and condescending. “If you’re too fucking incompetent to help her, let me take her home, so I can.”

Gail bites the inside of her cheek. If this was anyone else, she would set them straight on the importance of mutual respect. But, this isn’t just anyone. This is Roman Reigns, and she’s well aware of the fact that one wrong statement or sign of disrespect could very well end her life, so she does her best to remain calm and professional. And she tries an alternative approach. 

“You know, one of the exercises she did in an individual session asks about what safe spaces she has, sources of support and whatnot. And you know what she put down for almost every answer?” Gail gives a small, closed mouth smile. “You.” Well trained in reading nonverbals, she picks up on the brief giveaway sign of emotion that flashes in Roman’s eyes at this. “She put down that you are her number one reason for wanting to live.” 

There’s a good minute of silence before Roman asks in an uncharacteristically low voice. “So why did she do it?”

Gail's smile shifts into a solemn frown. “I’ll leave that discussion to the two of you. She’s expressed wanting to talk with you about that directly.”

“I’m asking you.”

Gail leans back in her chair and goes a different route. “It’s okay to be upset with her. To be angry at her. To be angry at and blame yourself.” Gail catches just a glimpse of surprise in his eyes at the last part. “To actually feel your feelings.”

Roman, however, is uninterested in any of this. Offended even. “Why the hell would I be angry at her?”

“Why wouldn’t you be? She tried to leave you. That’s essentially what suicide is. Escapism. It provides the patient with the peace they’re looking for but leaves the loved ones left behind with a world of questions and emotions.” She explains, mindful of her tone and voice. “Two truths can exist in the same universe. You can be happy she wasn’t successful and still angry at her for trying in the first place.”

Roman is quiet for a good two minutes, Gail wondering if she should transition to another topic when he breaks said silence in that same low voice. 

“I don’t understand why she didn’t call me. I told her to tell me if…..if those thoughts ever returned.”

“But she didn’t…..” Gail’s voice softens as she adds, almost empathetically. “I think you’ll find talking with her will give you some of the answers you’re looking for. But, they truly should come from her.”

Roman won’t push. He wants to, but won’t. If this is something Solana wants to discuss with him herself, he’ll respect that. So long as it’s not triggering to her, which it seems, surprisingly, it’s not. 

Gail clears her throat and transitions to the next section. “Dr. Stratus started her on a medication regimen of Sertraline, 50mg and Wellbutrin, 100mg, once a day in the morning as well as Hydroxyzine, PRN, which means as needed. The Sertraline and Wellbutrin are antidepressants, and Hydroxyzine can be taken when she starts to feel overwhelmed or triggered. So far, she’s responding well, though it typically takes 4 to 6 weeks for patients to truly notice the full benefits.” 

Roman nods, as Gina or whatever her name is, continues to explain what’s otherwise obvious. 

“We’ve been administering her medication and given how she attempted to take her life, Dr. Stratus and I strongly advise that you or someone else take over that administration upon her discharge—”

“Do you honestly think I’m stupid enough to allow her to have unmonitored access to pills again?” Roman doesn’t even try, not that he was before, to hide his frustration and irritation. She’s acting like he’s stupid. His degrees may be in business, but one doesn’t need to have a degree in behavioral health to know thatyou don’t give a formerly suicidal person free access to the same method they used to take their life. 

Gail, however, decides to not feed into it. “You know, anger is sometimes just anger. Just people mad as hell. But sometimes….sometimes it’s what we call a blanket emotion, meaning there are other feelings hiding beneath it, being presented as anger.”

Roma sits forward. “Just what the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

“Nothing at all, Mr. Reigns.” A small smile falls on her face, and that only pisses him off even more. Is this bitch trying to patronize him or something? “But, you should know that we offer support for spouses and loved ones like yourself who are supporting—”

“The only thing I need for you to do is to help my wife, so I can get her the hell out of this place and home where she belongs.”

Gail takes a deep breath. 

It was worth a try. 

“I want to show you something.” She stands up from her chair, moving to her desk as she pulls out a key to unlock the drawer. “Solana signed a full release authorizing us to share all details regarding her care with you. But, there are some things she’s explicitly expressed you not being okay with knowing and seeing. This is not one of them. And I think you would find it interesting….”

If not for the fact that the therapist already made it clear that safety concerns and suicidality are exceptions to confidentiality, Roman would be concerned, wondering just what exactly Solana doesn’t want him to know.

But something tells him she’s perhaps opened up in therapy about specifics regarding her trauma more than she has with him, and if that’s the case, his only hope is that this woman knows what she’s doing and doesn’t trigger Solana further.

She walks back over, handing him a set of sheets. Roman takes them, immediately noticing the handwriting. 

Solana’s handwriting. 

He gets to reading the bolded question that each has answers of varying length.

Who is your safe person? What makes this person safe?

My husband. He’s the first man in my life to not hurt me. The first man I’ve ever trusted.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you trust this person with 1 being none and 10 being absolute trust?

 10

How does this person make you feel safe?

He’s patient with me and listens to me and makes me feel beautiful.

How does this person serve as a member of your support system?

He listens to me and always checks on me. 

How long have you experienced thoughts/urges/practices of self-harming behavior including suicidal ideation and/or attempts?

The first time I felt like I didn't want to be alive anymore was when I was ten. I woke up from my coma and realized my mother was dead. I just wanted to be with her. But it’s my brother constantly telling me I should kill myself after my mom’s murder that made me seriously think about doing it. 

He would tell me that it should have been me who died, and I should just kill myself because no one wanted me.

And I started to believe him. 

It’s been on and off since then.

Has there been a point in time where you have not had these thoughts/urges?

Yes. For the past four months. 

If you answered yes to the previous question, what caused or contributed to the cessation of these thoughts/urges?

I met my husband. I had real friends for the first time. I found myself having a real family for the first time in a long time. 

I was happy.

Prior to this gap, when was the last time you experienced any of these thoughts? What triggered them?

The day of my wedding. This was before I got to know my husband. I was scared he was going to beat me like my dad and brother.

What happened to re-trigger you? If uncomfortable sharing, list the emotions you felt during this episode. 

Sadness. Anger. Confusion.

Do you remember what thoughts you were experiencing before the suicidal and self-harming ideation returned? What were they?

I couldn’t stop thinking about my rape and my mother’s murder. It was like I was reliving them over and over again, and I couldn’t get the memories and flashbacks to stop. It felt like all my progress was reversed, and I’d have to start over, and I didn’t want to put my husband and family through that, as they’re the reason I even started to heal.

I just didn’t want to be in pain anymore, and I thought everyone would be happier if I was dead. I didn’t want to be a burden to my husband.

Looking back and reflecting on your thoughts, have they changed? And if so, how?

I don’t want to die. I still don’t feel as good as I was feeling before I found out the truth, but I’m not thinking or wanting to kill myself anymore. I still have a lot of things I want to do. I’m not ready to be done here. Just want to get better.

 Do you wish you would have done something different? What could you have done differently?

Yes.

Called my husband. 

Can you identify at least one reason your life is worth living?

Roman 

Roman has oscillated through so many different emotions reading through this worksheet from beginning to end. Anger seems like the dominant emotion, his jaw clenching as he learns how close to the paternal tree Solana’s bitch brother remained..

He’s not much better than Xavier. 

If not worse. 

And Roman is determined to find even more, additional ways to make that fucker suffer the way he made Solana suffer for so many years.

He’s also livid and something else unknown that on a day that should have been special for her, she was considering taking her own life.

And he hates himself for putting her in that position in the first place. He was the one who wanted to speed everything up, not even considering how traumatic that process could have been for her. 

But he especially doesn’t know how to feel reading just how highly Solana views and feels about him. She hasn’t been very quiet regarding how much she cares about him, but reading her words, her writing, her honesty, it makes him aware of just how much she cares. 

“You mean a lot to her. And her healing and progress moving forward will require your support.” Gail cuts in, voice calm and almost soothing. “One of the things I ask clients all the time is who their support system is and is there anything else they need from this person or persons….she couldn’t tell me a single thing she needs from you that you don’t already give her.” Roman says nothing, not even offering a nonverbal gesture or movement for her to analyze. Thus, Gail continues, reviewing her notes of topics she wanted to touch on with him prior to his seeing Solana in a few hours. “Now, I will say, Solana does exhibit strong codependent tendencies. Specifically with you. She’s extremely attached to you, and while that should probably be addressed at some point, her stabilization is the priority.”

Roman doesn’t pay much, or any, mind to that last part. He doesn’t care what this woman says. Whatever Solana needs, she’ll get. 

Especially if what she wants is him.

Cause he wants her just as much. 

________

Roman doesn’t get nervous. 

Ever.

But, he’s certain what he’s feeling in his fucking stomach is some level of nerves.

And he hates that shit.

Cause why the fuck is he at his grown age feeling anxious about seeing his wife? Perhaps it’s the fact that it’ll be the first time in a week that he’s actually laid eyes on her, seeing her not lying unconscious in a hospital bed. That he’ll be able to have her big brown eyes focused on him. Hear the sound of her voice, so soft and light.

He shuts his eyes.

Fucking nerves.

He decides to pull out his phone as a distraction while security escorts her to him in the visitors section, remembering a text from Paul that he should probably respond to. Not that he wants to, but it’s better standing here feeling fucking stupid and—

“Roman…”

He wasn’t sure just sure how he would respond or react or even feel seeing her for the first time in a week, but Solana is barely able to get his name out of his mouth when Roman snaps his head up from the phone in his hand to the direction of which the voice came. 

It happens a bit too fast for him to even process. The rise and easy falter of her smile, the gloss of her eyes, the tiny scoff of disbelief that leaves her mouth before she’s running toward him.  Roman wastes not a single fucking second to pick her up the minute she throws her body against him. And just like that, almost every trace of irritation, of vexation, of anger melts away.

Roman’s eyes shut as he holds her close against him, noticing how tightly she’s holding him back. 

Her voice cracks followed by a sniffle as she murmurs against his shoulder. “I’ve missed you….”

For a brief second, he’s angry again. Angry because has she been asking for him? And if so, why was he not informed? Stratus has been texting him frequent general updates. That she’s been consistently opening up in individual therapy, not as open in group sessions, often writes and draws during their designated free time, etc.

But nothing about her asking for him. 

He makes a mental note to ask Stratus about that shit, but not now. Now, his focus is entirely focused on the woman in his arms.

“I missed you too.” Saying he missed her feels like an understatement. Roman has been fucking miserable without her around, but what good would it serve her to share as such? So, he keeps it simple but still accurate.

He ignores the small part of him that dislikes when she finally pulls away, but that dissatisfaction is easily shoved to the side when he sees her eyes watering. “I’m so sorry. I—I didn't mean. I just—”

Roman’s focus is now solely honed in on stopping her from crying. He can’t see her upset. Not after what happened. He moves his hands to her face, gently cupping her cheeks and brushing away her tears. “Let’s talk, okay?”

She nods, stepping back, forcing his hands to drop but easily sliding her hand into one of his as she leads them in the direction from where she came. Roman won’t lie. He’s not paying attention to much in passing. Just her. It’s like there’s a blurred lens on them, distorting everything around them except his wife.

And he has zero issues with this. 

He has zero issues until they’re walking past a group of three women who seem to notice that Solana is crying and stop her, the one who almost looks like she could be Hispanic asks Solana, “are you alright?”

Who the fuck is this? Roman would most definitely ask as such as well as tell her to stay out of their damn business if not for the fact that Solana answers almost reassuringly. 

“Yes, of course.” 

To make matters worse, this irritating ass stranger has the audacity to almost send a suspicious damn near glare his way. Just who the fuck does she think she is? 

The woman on her right suddenly asks, her quiet voice strangely reminding him of Solana. Right off the bat, he can see they have similar demeanors. “You’re still joining us for breakfast, right?”

Solana answers right away, shaking her head. “Of course.”

Joining for breakfast? What the fuck is this? A psychiatric ward or summer camp?

The women all seem to give Solana that ‘call us if you need anything’ nod before finally leaving him alone with his wife. Roman has to keep his sigh to himself.

Only Solana would make ‘friends’ at a damn hospital.

She finally leads him into what he would guess is her ‘room.’ He’s instantly not impressed and annoyed because he directly instructed Stratus to make sure she had the best this place has to offer.

This clearly ain’t it. He adds it to his list of complaints to bring up to the psychiatrist. He’s also annoyed by the ‘sheet’ that serves at the door, irritated that they won’t have total privacy. But, he understands. It’s a psychiatric ward. Not the Four Seasons. 

Roman allows Solana to guide him over to her bed where she motions for him to sit down. He does as such, partially surprised when she climbs onto his lap, legs on either side. He doesn’t protest though, simply holds her by his hips as he shifts so that his back against the wall. 

Solana, however, keeps her head down, her hands scrunching the bottom of his shirt as she seems to force out, “I don’t want to talk about this—”

That’s an easy thing, Roman quickly moving to remind her of her autonomy. “Then don’t—”

She cuts him off. “But, I need to.” She finally lifts her gaze, and my God, he’s missed staring into those pretty eyes, seeing her pretty face. “I can’t—I won’t avoid it.” She takes a deep breath, asking, “what do you want to know?”

He’s partially surprised by how direct she’s being, but in his defense, the last time he spoke to her directly, she was in such a different place. A much darker place.

That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore, but he knows looks can be deceiving, so he remains cautious. His voice is surprisingly gentle, as he answers, “I think you already know the answer to that, Sol.”

Her eyes shut again, and he can’t tell if it’s because of his use of his nickname for her or the emotionality of it all. 

Both, probably. 

She brings her gaze back on him, and he hates seeing the emotion building back up. Logically, he knows that there’s no way to have this kind of conversation and emotion not be present. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though. “I just….I couldn’t think straight that night, Roman. I just kept reliving every bad thing that’s happened to me but now with the knowledge that it was my own father that was responsible. And I just….I couldn't handle it.”

This is the part he can barely handle. The knowing of the role, a large role, he played in what landed her here. He feels like shit about it and prepares to take ownership when she continues. 

“And I thought….I felt like….I felt like all the progress I had made was now gone and that I’d have to start over, and I just—-I couldn’t fathom going through all that again.” She swallows, tears starting to fall. “I felt like I would just be a burden to you and that….it would just be easier for you if I was dead.”

Gutted. Reading it was one thing, but hearing it is an entirely different experience. To know this is truly how she felt, the thought process that led to her making the decision she made. The most likely reason she didn’t call him.

Because she thought she was a burden.

It kills him.

She drops her head, and he moves his hands back to her face. “Solana, look at me.” When she continues to keep her head down, he repeats himself, voice still low and gentle. “Look at me.” She seems to hesitate but follows through, Roman hating how devastated she looks. “Nothing about my life would be easier without you in it. You are never a burden to me. You never have been, and you never will be. I want to help you. Listen to you. Whatever it is you need, I’ll do. I just need you to tell me.” This time, he’s the one swallowing back unfamiliar and uncomfortable emotions. “I just need you to not leave me, alright?” She seems slightly taken back by his honesty and vulnerability. Truthfully, so is he. It was one thing to be so honest with her while she was unconscious, but it’s another when she sits before him, aware and conscious and hanging onto every word. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your father. I should have—”

“No. Please—please don’t.” She shakes her head, interrupting him with that same small voice. “I’m glad you didn’t.” The ‘shocked’ ball is back in his court as she explains, “I don’t….I don’t think I would have ever wanted to know the truth. It’s….it’s been too hard to have to deal with that.” 

Clearly. He can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like for her. To be stuck with the knowledge that her own flesh and blood could be so cruel, so hateful, so evil as to do what Xavier has done to his own daughter.

“The therapy has….it’s helped.” He believes it. Roman has noticed the sheets of paper that have positive affirmations and what he would guess are coping skills taped to the wall opposite her bed. She cracks a small, sad smile. “It’s….it’s been good for me.”

He believes that, too. He can see that. There’s a stark difference in her appearance, even with her being emotional as she is with the conversation at hand. She doesn’t look as fractured as the last time he saw her.

She looks stronger. Happier, even. It makes his chest swell with yet another unfamiliar sentiment.

Love, perhaps?

Just thinking about it has Roman clearing his throat, needing to focus on something other than that right now. “Have they been treating you okay?” This has been pretty high up, if not the highest, thing on his priority list.

She nods, Roman noticing and grateful that her tears are starting to dry up. “Yes. I….how many Bloodline men do you have here?”

“Enough.” She doesn’t need to know the full extent of just how above and beyond he went to ensure no one on staff at this hospital could be questionable about their intentions towards her. “I’m always gonna look out for you, baby. Always.”

Her eyes shut, not from feeling overwhelmed but something else. Something that seems less heavy and more comforting. 

Solana moves around on top of him, Roman somehow sensing what she’s trying to do, and he has zero hesitations.

He shifts his body, so he’s laying on her bed, his feet dangling off the edge of the bed, but it makes no difference to him as soon as she lays on top of him, her head cradled in his neck, her arms around him.’

“I’ve missed you.” Her arm laid against him, Roman reading to close his eyes when he catches onto something for the first time. He doesn’t know he missed it either, because it stands out. Roman gently takes her arm, turning it over.

On her inner forearm are a set of beautifully drawn butterflies of various sizes and colors, the largest being a dark blue color and the smaller one next to it, different shades of red and pinks. There are three much smaller butterflies under the two larger ones, two of them pink and the smallest also that same dark blue.

She looks up at him, offering a small smile. “It’s something they have us do in group therapy. They call it The Butterfly Project.” She shifts her body to show him her other forearm, revealing additional butterflies before she lays back down as she was. “You draw butterflies that represent the people in your life you care about and every time…you think of wanting to self-harm, you remember that you’re killing the butterflies. It’s like….like a reminder that people care about you.”

It’s an interesting concept, and judging by the emotion in her voice, a concept she resonates with deeply. Roman’s long index finger ghosts over the larger blue one as he asks, “who is this one for?” 

Solana’s smile deepens. “You.” He’s grateful that she continues to explain so he doesn't have to think much about that sentiment very similar to love that comes up at that admission. “And this one,” she gestures to the pink and red one. “--is me. My future self.” 

That doesn’t help the building emotion, so he again goes for distraction, motioning to the remaining three, asking, “and those?”

She swallows, something flashing in her eyes he can’t identify, answering gently, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

Her answer confuses him. He doesn’t know what to make of it, but he doesn’t want to push her either. 

“How is Dulce?” She asks suddenly, the sadness in her voice returning.

Roman won’t tell her the way her puppy sometimes sits by the front door around the time she usually gets home from work or the way she whimpers at night every so often, clearly missing her owner. He’ll spare her that, offering only a morsel of the truth. 

“The usual. Sleeping most of the day. You can tell she misses you.” 

Solana frowns. “I miss her too.” She licks her lips, asking almost nervously, “how are Bay—”

Roman is quick to shut that down, a hint of harshness in his voice. “I don’t want to talk about them.”

Truth be told, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to look or view them the same ever again. It may be a bit irrational and unfair, but it’s how he feels. And truthfully speaking, he’s got ten million other things on his mind and in his heart he’s trying to sort through. 

“Roman…..” Solana sits up a bit, and he’s taken back for a second by how fucking beautiful she is. Even with the sadness in her eyes. “It wasn’t their fa—”

“Not now, Sol.” His tone takes on a gentler tone as he adds on, for good measure, “please. I just want to enjoy you.”

He knows she’ll bring it up again. She cares too much about the two women who Roman will never trust her with again to just let it go permanently. “Okay.” She lays herself back down on top of him, and Roman kisses the top of her head.

“How are you?”

He’s not quite sure why her question surprises him. But, the answer is an automatic, “fine.”

He’s far from fine, but she doesn't need to know that.

Again, Solana sits up, that frown almost deepening. “Are you sleeping?” She reaches over and caresses his beard. “You look tired. H–have you been taking your medicine?”

Roman is truly dumbfounded. She is the one who is currently a legally mandated patient in a psychiatric ward because she was actively suicidal only a week ago, and yet, she’s laying here worried about him. 

Roman has to push back that love feeling that’s returning. 

“I keep telling you not to worry about me,” he reminds, once again wanting and almost needing to stress to her that worrying about him should be the last thing on her plate.. “I just want you to focus on yourself.”

Her retort surprises him, bold and almost uncharacteristic of her. “And I keep telling you that I’m always going to worry about you.”

Roman chuckles, commenting, “you’re becoming more outspoken….”

She gives him a small smile. “I told you the therapy has been helping.”

Roman scoffs. She’s right. Maybe that Gemma woman does know what she’s doing. 

“Do you need anything?”

Solana says nothing, just lays back down against him, her hand moving over his chest, resting on his heart. “Just you.” She must glance at the clock on the wall as she comments, “we only have 40 minutes left….”

He knows she’s referring to the one hour time block allotted for visitors. Something he absolutely couldn't give two shits about. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.“ He’d stay the whole night if that was what she wanted. 

“Roman….” It’s funny how he already knows what she’s going to say. “The rules—”

His interruption is sharp, but it’s not aimed towards her. And she knows that. “I don’t give a fuck about rules when it comes to you.” She sighs into his chest, offering no protest, saying nothing else.

Conversation is intermittent over the next two or so hours, Solana eventually falling asleep on top of him. He doesn’t mind. As much as he enjoys talking to her, having her body on top of his is an easy, acceptable alternative.

He’s missed this. Missed being with and around her. Roman is just now realizing just how much he benefits from having her around. He’s been a complete nightmare for everyone around him outside of Dulce, even more temperamental than his usual default setting.

But the minute he laid eyes on her, saw her innocent smile, had her in his arms, everything suddenly felt so better.

That’s what she does for him. What she is for him. 

Medicine. 

An antidote. Something he never knew he was missing until he met her. It seems like it was almost impossible for him to not fall in love with her. 

Love….

Thinking about it again brings a frown to his handsome face, forcing him to face a reality that’s so easy to escape when he’s with her.

Roman may love Solana, but….he can never act on it. Not really. Can never tell her he loves her. That makes it official. That confirms that he finally has something his enemies can use against him, a distraction, a weakness.

Loving her openly would make him vulnerable, would put her at risk, and he couldn’t do that. Not just for himself but most definitely not to her. 

To be with her like this, open and vulnerable, behind closed doors is one thing. It’s an entirely different ballpark though to make that visible and public, even with just telling her.

Feeling her stir against him, Roman kisses the top of her head, tugging her closer. 

He won’t deny that he loves her. 

But, he can’t act on it either. 

He’s just going to have to find someway to push that down, tuck it away for safekeeping.

It’s just better that way. 

________

Roman stays for about two hours, Solana waking up and reluctantly expressing her okayness with him leaving. It’s not what she wants, definitely not what he wants, but it’s what’s necessary.

If even for the fact that Dulce can’t be left alone for too long.  

Solana holds onto his arm as she walks him out, Bautista not too far behind to escort her back to her room.

But, it’s when he turns to tell her bye, Roman about to ask her when she wants him to come see her again (fuck visting days), she surprises him by reaching behind her back and pulling out a sealed envelope. 

Brows furrowed, Roman is curious just how the hell he missed that when she presses it against his chest. “Promise me you won’t read it until you get home.” 

Now he’s extremely confused. It’s been a while since Solana has written to thim. They’ve progressed way past that, and it does concern him a bit that she didn’t just talk to him about whatever lies between the lines of this letter. 

But, he also knows she’s been working hard in therapy and even in being able to open up to him about what happened that night had to have been a lot for her, so he won’t push it and will respect it.

Accepting the letter, he simply says, “okay.”

She offers a close mouthed smile, a sign of appreciation and moves to hug him once more, mumbling something in Spanish against his chest that he can’t make out. When she pulls back, he doesn’t hesitate to cup her cheek, reiterating, “you need anything, you let me know, alright?” They’d already briefly discussed how she had picked up on the fact that he had his men stationed strategically all over this place, and any of them were able to get a message to him. 

She nods, repeating to him, “okay.” Solana tugs on his shirt and leans up to kiss his cheek, murmuring against his ear, “bye, Roman.”

It seems saying goodbye is difficult for her just as much as it is for him, Roman unable to reciprocate it, only letting his gaze follow her retreating form until Bautista gives him a nod and closes the door behind them. 

He stands there for a good minute or two before actually leaving.

Fuck. Leaving her seems to be getting harder and harder. 

Roman is barely in the SUV, door not even shut when his long fingers are moving with all the determination to open up the envelope. He unfolds the piece of paper, unsurprised to find her neat handwriting. 

Roman,

I need to ask you to do something for me, but I need you to please hear me out before you settle on an answer. And please know I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I didn’t believe it’s something I really need. 

I’m so sorry for putting you through this. I never want to cause you any stress or create any problems for you. 

I wasn’t in a good place, and this experience has made me realize there’s still a lot of parts of me that still need to heal. I still have a lot to work through. 

That’s why I’m asking.

Gail mentioned a treatment facility she runs about an hour away. It’s a 6 week program for women coming out of the hospital like I will be. 

Roman, I think I should go. 

I don’t think I should come home just yet.

I don’t feel ready. I’m not having those thoughts or urges anymore, but there’s still things I think I need to work through. I don’t ever want to put you through something like this again. I don’t ever want to end up back here again, but the only way I can do that is by making sure I’m good before I leave.

And I don’t know if another week can do that. 

I miss you. So much. It’s been hard being away from you and Dulce and everyone else. But, I feel like I have to do this. I need to do this. 

For us. 

But mostly for me. 

I want to get better.

Please let me.

Te quiero mucho,

Solana

BTW, I’m saying ‘I love you very much’ in Spanish. 

Because I do. 

I love you, Ro.

And I don’t need you to say it back or feel the same. With what you’ve been through, I’d never expect or ask that of you.

I just need you. Your continued support. That’s all. That’s enough.

With all my love,

Solana

________

“I’m so sick of your bloody fuckin’ shit, Seth! It’s the same fuckin’ thing over and over again, and I’m done!” 

The cadence, melody, and even tone of his wife’s rant serves as the perfect resources for Seth who is lazily sprawled out across their sofa, beer in one hand, the other hand moving as if conducting an orchestra. 

And he is.

Because this has become a song and dance with his fiery tempered, Irish wife.

Seconds later, she’s practically stomping in the living room, their daughter in hand who is most definitely old enough to remember this little spat. He cackles to himself. How unfortunate.

However, Becky’s enraged gaze is focused on him, disgust plastered all over. “Were you even listenin’ to me?”

He makes a sound, unbothered eyes falling on her, that infamous smile growing. “Of course, dear.”

Becky, however, knows better. Has been with this man long enough to know better. And she’s done. “Ya know, I thought you were getting better, yeah? But then that bloke Breaker comes over here looking for you, and I—” Becky cuts herself off, refusing to start yelling with her daughter in her arms. Her accent is even thicker, as she shares while adjusting the bag on her other shoulder, “I’m gonna go stay with Charlotte til’ I can figure out just what I’m gonna do.”

What she’s not saying is that she’ll stay with her closest American friend until she can find the funds and resources to move back home. 

She’s just done.

Seth, however, seems unconcerned by the fact that she’s leaving with their kid. “Okay, dear.” He snorts, falling into that all too familiar maniacal laugh. The one that typically accompanies the reckless and dangerous behavior that has her packed and ready to go. It was one thing when it was just the two of them, but with a child now, Becky has a responsibility to keep her daughter safe.

And there is nothing safe about her husband rekindling ties with the Nightmare Factory.

Not wanting him to see the pending tears, Becky kisses her daughter’s cheek and heads for the door, not allowing herself to hesitate as she rips it open only for her jaw to drop.

She scoffs. Unbelievable. With even more support for her decision to leave, Becky looks over her shoulder at her husband who climbs to his feet. “First the Nightmare Factory, and now the fuckin’ Bloodline?” She shakes her head. “Yeah, you dig your own fuckin’ grave, Seth.” 

And with that, she moves past the figures, determined to not look back this time.

Meanwhile, a massive smile grows on Seth’s unshaven face, delight dancing in his dark eyes.

This is certainly proving to be such an eventful day. 

He practically stumbles over but manages to stand firm as he takes a swig of his beer, burping loudly and then asking with all of the excitement, evil smile on his face.

“How can I help you?”

[definitelynotshouting]

saw this post assigning devastating quotes to each life series members, got incredibly inspired, and decided to try my own hand at it but specifically with snippets of the poetry ive personally written throughout the years :] thoughts and musings on several of my choices will be under the cut if you're interested in that sorta thing!! Enjoy<3

Bdubs: "it's all so blue. so blue, so wet, so cold, but you've got a fire in your heart like a hundred rockets. you aren't hungry, but you could eat the dead, / cut your teeth on a rotting corpse."

BigB: "SOMETHING HAS FRACTURED HERE AND IT WILL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN. EACH DAY YOU WILL CHASE THE FAULT LINES LOOKING FOR A BRIDGE ONLY TO FIND IT ALREADY BURNT."

Etho: "I am above myself, hovering, pressing pale fingers into the dull bruise of yesterday to test its lingering ache. Is this all that's left?"

Gem: "what are gods if not the mothers of our own inventions. we are the avatars of violence and love and hope and fear in equal measure."

Scar: "I think I want to live. I know one day, I must die. In the cosmic wheel of fortune, I am a gamble in the making, gentle breath washing a little luck over the dice."

Grian: "Within the shape of my clawed fingers are knives: scrabbled dirt; scarlet lines; the escape route / Between a fence and / Tall grasses."

Impulse: "Life's bitter, stilted offering / Is that every person we meet / Will one day become a perfect stranger."

Martyn: "Dangerous beasts must earn / Their survival. / You are no different than a knife / In the hands of murderers."

Lizzie: "When I think of the egg-tooth, / I revel in purple glass; the lightning; the shatter; the knife-slip between / Death, and a wake."

Mumbo: "This is your life now, / Found in the cracks and crevices, scraps pried between laughter and reckless abandon."

Pearl: "I am begging, raw in the face of absolution— do not hate me. Please, keep watering me in your garden, / Despite how closely my heart resembles a weed."

Ren: "— and sometimes hearts are forged in violence /— and sometimes blood cannot form scabs / — and sometimes wounds carry half-hearted sutures / — and we are all but living fragments / —"

Skizz: "Just a little longer. Please. / There is light pooling at the bottom of the flower vase."

Scott: "I can only hope that with the rising of the dawn / I will pass through darkness and return to day, / Where I am a solar ray blinding— teeth and claws sharpened, the stretch of my skin carrying gold / Above the dull, dug out earth"

Joel: "Tamed by nothing, no one, I lose myself to the shattered chains; / Yes, there is a loss."

Jimmy: "for year after bloody year, i clung to life with aching fingernails, grasped at every straw, took every scrap of double-barrelled hope and shot myself in the chest with it."

Tango: "every time you claw yourself from the ashes you insist it will never happen again. every time you reach the breaking point, it happens a little bit faster."

Cleo: "It's about catharsis, not letting go. / Because a part of me wants to hold this, / A swelling hurt deeper than tides, / Hotter than stars. The kind of rage / A mother might raise against her own child."

I dont share my poetry on here very often, partially because it tends to end up coming from a very personal part of me, but since this was actually a lot of fun maybe i'll start posting my poems more often here :]] i think what i found most interesting about this exercise was that as i scrolled my notes app and cherry-picked quotes for each character, it felt like the ones i chose naturally became part of a larger conversation-- as if the characters were speaking to me through my own words about their lowest points, about their ultimate views on the games filtered through the lens of a red life.

It felt enlightening; i dont often feel like im speaking to characters or being informed about their plots/preferences, etc. the way many other writers discuss in workshops or casually online, but by the end of this exercise i felt like i just... understood them, better than i had before. There's something inexplicable about reading your own words and consciously finding ways to apply them in a way that encapsulates them down to a character's core that just... truly highlights the specific qualities that resonate most with you. And i think stumbling upon that organically was a very vivid and incredible experience for me

Admittedly, i did struggle on Scott, Ren, and Etho a lot-- im not as familiar with them as characters, and for a while i couldn't quite pinpoint what exact themes they tend to carry with them throughout all their life seasons. But when i started to really look at everyone's quotes as a whole, i realized they felt like a story, like the response to a question-- as if i was being TOLD what they felt and how, and that that was how i needed to frame the rest of my selections. So Scott's ended up being about control, and the desperate hanging onto of it; Ren's is about the acceptance and bitterness of what he cannot change; Etho's is a quiet resignation rounded out with softer disbelief. The more i looked at these choices, the more they felt correct to me-- and while i still think i have a ways to go before i fully understand these characters, i feel like this has helped me a lot with that ultimate goal :]

Of all these poetry snippets, though, i think Scar, Skizz, and Joel's are my absolute favorites. Skizz's poem is actually the whole poem in its entirety (as is Cleo's, funnily enough)-- it's a short, very simple poem that is incredibly close to my heart for many reasons, but the main one being because it was written at one of my lowest points a few years back. Its about clawing for hope when there isnt any, and finding even the smallest of beautiful things to hold onto, and begging yourself to keep holding onto that at any cost. The pure, clean beauty of watching light refract through a vase of flowers, and knowing that sometimes, that's all there is to live for-- I felt like that really spoke to Skizz's life series character as a whole: finding the beauty in every tiny thing, no matter how small, and scrabbling for more time to appreciate it.

Scar's snippet comes from a much longer poem of mine about the difficulty of reconciling the idea of a future when you havent had to think of one before (incidentally, Etho's snippet comes from this poem as well). I think out of everyone, this quote encapsulates him the best; i like how it subtly references that inner well of vivacity he draws from that many other characters struggle to find, and how that in turn ties in with the lore that he never died a final death during Secret Life. And i love how it simultaneously manages to encompass the way he utilizes the social game in each season as well-- Scar's an incredibly intelligent social player, and i think the imagery of a gambler breathing their luck over the dice as they cast it, and as he casts himself at others for alliances and enemies, truly does fit him.

As for Joel, the full poem his quote comes from is one im particularly proud of, especially for its final lines. I think, quite honestly, i can let this poem stand for itself in its entirety:

They say transformation is letting the light in, But in my mind it's a violence. A coarseness, a fracturing, the bloody vowels between a scream And a howl. How do you transform without killing yourself? When I am a lion, my hands and feet Grow claws; my teeth sharpen. No longer do I spark— I ignite. Tamed by nothing, no one, I lose myself to the shattered chains; Yes, there is a loss. To transform is to leave behind a body And eat its still-breathing corpse.

I find myself referencing this poem a lot even in my daily life-- as longterm readers of mine already know, one of my favorite themes is that of replacing yourself and permanent transformation. This poem really is just about how changing, in any shape or form, alters you forever; how you can look back on yourself from even just a few months ago and feel like a completely different person despite remaining the same. Connecting it with Joel's character, and how he acts during his red lives in each season, was a natural and intuitive progression once i really sat and thought about it.

Alright thats enough yapping from me 😂😂😂 im not used to writing meta nor delving into my poetry on here, so this was a bit of an experimental post for me. If youve read up until this point, i both applaud your patience and really hope you enjoyed this window into my personal works and thoughts on them :]] cheers, and thanks to @/chipperchemical the op of the original post for inspiring me!!!❤️❤️❤️

[s1lly-c0r3]

Hiiiiii

Luv luv luvvvvv ur fics!!!!!!!!!

Can u please make a Drabble of jimmy cuddling with his S/O

(Ik you did a cuddling hcs and that’s EXACTLY why I’m asking this, it was soooooo good got me curlin my toes)

Take your time and thanks in advance!!!

GAH, as much as i HATE Jimmy as a person, i must admit i do have a huge soft spot for him. WARNING: I DO NOT SUPPORT JIMMYS ACTIONS, THIS IS SIMPLY FOR FUN!! Requests are still open!! Feel free to ask! CHARACTERS: Jimmy (Be warned) You (GN)

"Quit moving" He grumbled, pulling you closer to him. He disregarded the blanket for warmth at this point, completely focusing on your body heat. "Your makin' it hard to hold ya."

His face found its rightful place on the crook of your neck. His arms lazily wrapping around you and pulling you closer. His hands were cold against any exposed skin, matching, uncomfortably well, with his boney figure. He didn't say anything, practically forcing you against him. After a bit of him, (seemingly trying to morph into your skin or something), you finally decided that the blanket was going to be needed. You pulled it up, sighing a bit before wrapping your arms around Jimmy as well. You could almost feel him grin against your neck, his shoulders shaking slightly indicating a slight chuckle. "Something funny?" You asked, already knowing the answer, or well action, he was going to give but what could be the harm in asking, right? Jimmy didn't answer with words of course, instead placing lazy, open mouth kisses along your neck and jaw. "Mm, nothin', ain't nothing funny." He grumbled, trying to distract you from the fact he's all giddy. "Just trying to sleep." "Sure, you are," you hummed, growing more at ease as his knuckles ran up and down your back. "M' telling the truth." He said, pressing another kiss against your jaw. "Shouldn't even be pamperin you right now with that smartass attitude you've got up." "yeah, yeah." You said, "Just go to bed." "whatever you want, bossy" He chuckled

GYUAAAAT, SORRY I TRIED TO GET THIS OUT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!! I saw this one and couldn't hold back omg. IF YOU'VE REQUESTED BEFORE IM STILL WORKING ON IT!! I HOPE YOU GUYS AREN'T TOO STARVED!!

[emotionalhottiee]

Whole Again ❤️

Jimmy Uso/ Jonathan Fatu

This is the conclusion to Broken

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

(This content may include explicit material).

Before i knew it we were back at Jon’s condo. And ever since we stepped out of his car, we have been inseparable. Our lips only coming apart to press elevator buttons and open doors. I know that this sounds crazy… But i feel whole again now that we are together. He was made for me.

We reached his door FINALLY. Our lips came undone to allow Jon to unlock his door. He seemed as if he was a bit nervous the way he was fumbling with his keys. It was honestly so cute to watch.

As he held the door open, i walked over towards his leather couch. As much as i missed him, there needed to be a conversation.

Jon was standing by his front door messing with something before he made his way over to the couch. Walking right in front of me, he bent down so he was literally hovering over me. He leaned forward to kiss me again, but i put my hand up abruptly stopping his lips from touching mine. A confused look arose of his face as he moved over to the right of me sitting on the couch, but turning his body so that he was facing me. “We need to have a conversation about the infidelity before we can just move on as if nothing happened.” I stated calmly. Trying my best to get through what was going to be an emotional talk.

You can do this.

“I hadn’t imagined being able to forgive you. Because watching you fuck someone else, in the same bed you fuck me. That killed me inside Jon”. I murmured avoiding eye contact. “And then where’d you go? Chasing a new piece of ass, instead of calling me”. “Your future wife” i threw my hands up doing a very aggressive air quote. Because that is what he always called me. “You cheated and then you moved on as if i meant nothing to you.”

I came undone. As much as i tried to hold back the tears, but they couldn’t be contained any longer as they were steadily falling down my face.

No longer being able to avoid eye contact Jon placed his fingers gently under my chin, lifting my head up until i our eyes met for the umpteenth time tonight. “What happened with that girl meant nothing to me”. My heart was pounding out of my chest. “I made a mistake that i have regretted ever since” he stated his eyes looked past all of my tears, deep into my soul. Sending a wave of chills down my spine.

It is insane how this man, can make me want to apologize to him for the things he did wrong.

I hate to admit that he had the kind of power over me. But he simply did. And then came those words that i had longed to genuinely hear for 5 agonizing days. “I’m Sorry”. He stated his voice deep, but soft for me. He kept lookin into my eyes, pleading to me without saying another word. Crazy how two little words can mean so much. Causing you to forgive even the most hurtful things imaginable. With a simple apology. The pain and hurt and betrayal i had been feeling for the last 5 days, slowly started to vanish.

God i hate how much i love this man.

But he is my true weakness. How can i stay angry at the person, who brings me so much happiness? Why would i? Life is all about forgiveness right? Aren’t you supposed to forgive those who hurt you?

Throughout my internal conflict Jon never took his brown eyes off of me. I saw all the sincerity i needed to see in those eyes. He reached his finger up to my eyes wiping the last of my tears. Before returning his gaze to mine. “I never meant to hurt you Kenzi. I promise it was a terrible mistake that will never happen again”. He said lovingly while he pressed his forehead against mine.

Bringing my hand up to his beard in awe of those facial features that adorned his face. “I forgive you Jonathan” i said calmly again, because i genuinely did. Nobody will understand why it is so easy for me to forgive this man. And it’s simply because i need this man perhaps more than i need my own supply of oxygen. As unhealthy as that sounds my obsession with him is truly that deep.

We exchanged a few more passionate kisses. Whispering sweet nothings to each other in between. As Jon got off the couch first. His towering 6’3 frame bending down in front of me once again. But this time he was scooping me up into his arms as if it were nothing. Our faces coming back together as he carried me into his bedroom, with my legs wrapped around his waist.

I noticed the brand new bed set on his king sized bed. And a small smile crept up on my face. “Im glad he changed the sheets”, i thought to myself relived that he didn’t have those same sheets from his past transgressions.

He laid me down on the king sized bed and he placed a trail of kisses from my cheeks down to my neck. “I love you so much, little mama” he whispered into my neck know that would send me into a frenzy. “I love you too baby” i whimpered back softly. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he took his large hand gliding it down my body, until he came in contact with my the silver button of my boyfriend jeans.

Sitting up on his knees, he freed up his other hand to slide my jeans down to my ankles, before tugging them off of my body completely. He did the same with my crop top shirt freeing my bra-less boobs from them. I sat myself up on my elbows to watch him. As he stared at my almost naked body, biting down on his bottom lip allowing me to only see the top row of his pearly white teeth. Rubbing his hand over my Fenty boy shorts he smirked feeling the wetness he had cause through my panties. “You missed Daddy didn’t you?” He asked his smirk never leaving his face. All i could do was nod my head, as he inserted his middle finger into my center. I let out a whimpering moan. As he knelt down only nesting his face in my neck to slowly pick up the pace. “FUCK” i let out as my hands tried holding on to the sheets. He placed kisses on my neck knowing his was going to insert another finger. I squeezed my self ever so tightly feeling the added finger. He kept a steady pace as he bought his face up to mine. Telling me he loved me before placing a kiss on my lips.

He knows what he’s doing to me.

I let out a barrage of my moans, as i came on his fingers. He just looked at me grinning from ear to ear. As he pulled out his fingers now covered in my juices. He stood up from the bed, stripping himself of his clothes until he was left in only his boxers. He came back down to me kissing me as he slowly pushed my body flat onto the bed. Planting a trail of kisses as he made his way down to my thighs.

He was unusually quiet, which to me was a sign he was focused. He finally removed my panties after what felt like an eternity. Coming face to face with the pussy that belonged to him. He kissed me on the insides of each thigh before he kissed my vagina. My hands found their way to his hair that was brushed into a bun. Taking out the rubber band that kept it together, so that i could run my fingers through his beautiful curls.

He made out passionately with my vagina, moving back and forth between my opening and clit never missing a beat. At this point my hands embedded in his curly hair pushing his face into my glistening pearl, as i did that Jon took it as a sign to insert his tongue into me. Bringing one hand up message my clit while sliding his tongue in and out of me. feeling me near the edge. He removed his finger from my clit, going back to using only his mouth. He moaned into my pussy instructing for me to cum for his and i gladly obliged.

Making sure to clean me up, with his with tongue, he bought his face back to mine. Kissing me passionately with what was left of my juices that remained on his lips. He slowly rose back to his knees, then off of the bed to his feet to remove his final article of clothing, his boxers. Freeing that big beautiful brown dick of his that was swinging back and forth.

He climbed back in bed, coming down to me, until i felt his entire frame over me. Kissing me once more. All this passion he was giving me had made my knees weaken. He looked me in my eyes in between kisses as he inserted his fully erect penis into me. Both of us letting out of moan of pleasure. Him from feeling my warmth tighten around him. And mine from feeling the dick that i was in love with, enter me again after what felt like forever. I bought my legs up to wrap around his waist as my arms wrapped around his neck. As he feed my pussy stroke after stroke. I dug my nails into his skin as he move one arm to separate my leg slightly allowing him to dig his deepest so that his dick could kiss my cervix.

Trying not to make him bleed from my scratching i opted to move my hand back to his luscious curls, that were now all over the place. While my hands were roaming through his hair he placed his forehead against mine. Signaling to me that he was inching closer to a finish. As was i. He whispered another sweet apology followed by him confessing his love for me again.

Locking our eyes together again. Was enough for me to release all over his member as he groaned against my lips. Waiting for me to ride the last wave of my orgasm. He released his load inside of me mixing all of our juices together inside of me. While getting out his final strokes. He laid on top of me trying to catch his breath. I slightly turned my head towards his as i ran my fingers across his soft back.

He planted a soft kiss on my lips as he rolled off me. I took this as an opportunity to go to the bathroom and get myself together. Before finding one of Jon’s large tshirts to put over my naked body. Laying back in bed, he pulled me to him so that we were skin to skin leaving absolutely no room in between us. He softly let out one last “I love you little mama”, before shutting his eyes. I stared at him while caressing his face. Simply responding with an “I love you too Jonathan”. He smiled eyes still shut as we held each other before drifting off to sleep.

This is where i belonged.

[tubbytarchia]

I’ve recently rewatched dl and I wanted to find out if you had any thoughts on Pearl and Scott’s dynamic.. (double life or general idm)

BOY DO I. SIT DOWN

I've talked lots about Scott before, of how he twists the narrative the most and treats most relationships more as transactional. I will now immediately follow that sentence up with dear god please don't assume I hate Scott he's so interesting and compelling PLEASE don't think I hate him I beg of you I LIKE HIM I don't think he's evil and a villain he's just a bit fucked up like everyone else PLEASE just. believe me

Me ^

Anyway now that that's out of the way. Scott I think has an innate need for connection but denies it in favor of weaving his own narrative that he is in control of, especially so in Third Life where to me, it feels like he sought out to find a tragic love story and he got exactly that, from his perspective anyway, what with the final sequence of him meeting Jimmy again in some imagined afterlife, the one part that was scripted and it shows. Love is a variable that he can't afford the risk of. I think the story with Jimmy that he weaved was more important to him than genuine affection. In Double Life he admits to having whittled Jimmy down to nothing in order to get something from him. But then along comes Last Life

In Last Life, whatever it was, something about Pearl really appealed to him if even subconsciously and he very genuinely cared about her imo. And that was a relationship that oddly enough started as purely transactional yet quickly developed into the most meaningful one I think Scott has had. Even when he faltered in returning Pearl's affection fully, Pearl didn't care and stood by him. Well exemplified by the time he kind of froze when Pearl was boogey killed by Lizzie, but Pearl didn't even think to hold his inaction against him. (Especially fun contrasted with Pearl accidentally breaking the rules in killing boogey Joel for killing Scott lol)

But all of that was the variable that Scott sought to avoid, so in Double Life he immediately uses what he can as an excuse to ostracize Pearl, almost as if to punish her for the crime of. loving? And I'm not about to claim that Pearl is wholly innocent but I'd argue that was unwarranted. Cleo and Scott are a great dynamic in a vacuum but unfortunately Cleo is also quite terrible (but then who isn't. It's a death game, they all are. Sorry I have to keep making these remarks because otherwise I get labelled a hater) and unfortunately fuels all the worst traits in Scott while Scott very readily sticks to her. They remain an encouraging pillar to Scott, it's just that the things being encouraged are like. Their ritual to slice each other with axes at full force just to stick it to Martyn and Pearl. Pearl often gets compared to Scott as equally physically harmful but idk personally I don't think the snow bucket compares to start-of-every-session-near-death-axe-crit routine. That's again not to say that she's innocent

Upon Scott spreading completely unfounded claims about her being crazy and malicious, she starts to adopt those claims. What else is she to do to get by? She has been nice to most players and nearly none of them want her around because of rumors despite her causing harm on accident at worst. She comes close to finally finding friends in Jimmy (Tango as well but mostly Jimmy), but ruins her chances by briefly playing into Martyn's "prank" and giving him Jimmy's horn without realizing it's importance to Jimmy, after which Jimmy tells her that she's no longer welcome on the ranch. She's effectively lost everyone and it is 90% due to Scott, not due to her actually acting the way she's claimed to as she only starts to go down that path after repeated rejection (sure she let herself be physically hurt to get at Scott, but it wasn't because of malice or having lost her mind, her doing so was reasonable anyhow but got twisted into something it wasn't. It's still wrong on her part and I do think she goes at least a bit insane as Scarlet Pearl surfaces, but the point is that she wasn't that when Scott started painting her that way)

Even in the very end, Scott retains control. He retained control of not only his narrative but contributed to most others' as well, painting Pearl as the exact character he wanted her to be known as in every POV outside of her own. And as they stand face to face as the last two survivors, Scott denies her any chance to change things, taking his own life instead whilst painting himself as noble in doing so

Scott is incredibly self-sacrificial but only when he gets something out of it, and because it allows him yet more control. He wants to be able to control when he dies, and he also gets to turn it into utmost grandiose statements of nobleness when he does, which then changes others' perception of him accordingly and directly or indirectly allows Scott to get something in exchange. His suicide in DL is no different, it was for him, not for Pearl

In Secret Life Scott also instils the idea of Pearl being untrustworthy in Gem

Wild Life. grrrr. Wild Life.............clenches fist. Pearl's personal hell

I think you can infer I was. scared to say the least about Pearl upon seeing her alliance in Wild Life. In the end though I ended up just being immensely sad and disappointed. Just about nothing worked out for Pearl, only for her trauma to be mocked repeatedly by Scott and Cleo

Pearl imo shows so many signs of regression, and she holds onto Impulse as the one member of her team that isn't actively taunting her, making it a goal for herself to see Impulse win, and it is that: for her, for anything to go her way, not so much for Impulse as much as she does genuinely care for him. She really doesn't spend that much time with him, she just needs a goal to work towards for her own sake. Pearl being unstable, untrustworthy and especially pathetic are all things that continue to get enforced within the alliance, where she's often spoken to like a ticking time bomb and the team's destructiveness gets relegated to her specifically. She recognizes not feeling good about it but she doesn't recognize everything that's at play in the social dynamics of their alliance or the extent of it

She becomes scared of people becoming resentful of her were she to make mistakes all the while Scott and Cleo start enabling her worst tendencies, aka Scarlet Pearl. They don't do this a large degree but they do make an explicit point of it, or at least Cleo does. Cleo is also however, if even vaguely, trying to mend the relationship between her and Pearl, where they occasionally encourage and defend her although it's not to a significant enough degree for Pearl to really realize. After Gem's death, Cleo is also there to help although Pearl is too distraught to appreciate it

While Gem's largely the catalyst for the "pathetic" notion that Pearl adopts to her detriment over the course of Wild Life, it only affects Pearl as strongly as it does due to her having gone through what she has, and because she's in a largely unloving alliance that fuels and reminds her of her wrongdoing. Just compare her mental state here to the one in Secret Life with the Mounders. Although it does have importance to her because she seeks reconciliation, she isn't allowed to forget about Double Life, she's not allowed to heal and grow around the grief of what's happened to her

And the final two notable incidents in her and Scott's relationship are 1. Her being made to feel like she needs to kill Scott, which she doesn't and ends up picking her own method of killing him to retain any semblance of choice, and 2. best summarized by my friend's Pearl POV analysis: "Scott is wearing my clothes. instead of villainizing me, our “reconciliation” has encouraged him to embrace the qualities he thinks I represent. he matches me, and we don’t talk about our past"

I state again that I like Scott, I like Cleo, I don't think they're evil or villains, at the very least in no cut-and-dry way. They're flawed and compelling and although I feel sad for Pearl and see Scott as largely at fault for what's happened to her, I care about Scott too and he's easily in the top 5 of most intricate Life characters to me that I enjoy dissecting

You know like. enjoying any character in any other fandom that is morally reprehensible in any way. I don't know why that's such a wild concept in traffic but sigh. I have to disclaim this unfortunately

[raya-hunter01]

Can you do a story on jey about his gf tryna go to bed mad at him and he ain’t having it 🤗🤭

We Ain’t Going to Bed Angry

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Jasmine)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy

Summary: Jasmine wants to go to bed angry and in separate bedrooms, but Main Even Jey Uso is putting his foot down.

My first ever request....I hope you enjoy it @mya2real

Pensacola, FL

Jasmine’s POV

“Damn I finally get you alone, and all you want to do is cruise the coast and talk about your man. I hope he realizes how lucky his ass is, cause I really was trying to get your number,” Carmelo said as I laughed.

 “Thanks for helping me out Melo you are a sweetie. I promise he won’t come at you with any drama,” I said giving him a kiss on the cheek as I began my walk back to Jey’s house.

 I had Carmelo drop me off down the road from the subdivision. I ain’t crazy by no means, I ain’t letting just anybody know where I lay my head at night. Folks can be crazy as hell.

I groaned as my phone rang again looking down, I sighed. Another call from Jey. I knew I was wrong, but I was still pissed so I hit ignore and punched the code to be let into the subdivision. You let a bitch dance all up on you like you're single and shit.

But, oh, but when I leave yo’ ass at the club you concerned. Give me a break you weren’t worried about what I thought when she was twirling all up on your dick,” I muttered continuing my walk. I hate these fuckin’ groupies with a passion.

Jey’s POV

“Jasmine, I know you ignoring me.  What you doin'?  I know you had betta be on your way home. I bet he trying to fuck you ain’t he?  I’mma get’em you know dat right? I’mma hurt him bad Jasmine,” I said ending the voicemail before I dug an even deeper hole.

“Well damn, you just threatened to kill Melo for nothing, Jasmine ain’t that type of woman, and you know it,” Jimmy said shaking his head at me.

“She ain’t, but I know Carmelo likes her. I knew when I brought her to a show last year. He was looking wit no damn shame Uce, and tonight she got into a car wit his bitch ass trying to make me jealous,” I said steaming thinking about Carmelo touching Jasmine in any way.

"Hell, ain’t no tryin’ in it, you jealous Uce" Jimmy said as I rolled my eyes at him.

 “This woman gon’ be the death of me,” I muttered as Jimmy snickered. “Aye, sis told you not to play in her face, and you did anyway. Serves yo’ ass dead right,” he said laughing.

“I ain’t played in her face, I was just dancing with a fan,” I said oblivious to what he was trying to say.

“Uce, it wasn’t that you were dancing with her, it was how she was dancing all up on yo’ ass and you did nothing to stop it. Ya’ll was all but fuckin on that dance floor,. You lucky Jasmine didn't show her ass,” Jimmy said as I tried to think back to what happened, and when it finally clicked, I felt like an ass.

“Ok, yea, I admit it was outta pocket, but she ain’t have to leave with his ass to prove a point. She knows I’m wit her, that shit didn’t mean nothin',” I said as I heard the front door open.

A wave of relief washed over me as I saw her beautiful face as she took off her heels seemingly ignoring me. Thank God she was home safe.

“Uh, I’ll let myself out, and let ya’ll talk,” Jimmy said trying to hurry to the door but not before hugging Jasmine. “Glad you ok sis, you had me worried,” he whispered as she smiled rubbing his back. “I’m ok bro, tell Trin I’ll call her tomorrow” she whispered as I tried to keep my cool, at least until Jimmy left.

I felt my anger rising by the second. What had she been doing with Carmelo that she couldn’t pick up the fuckin’ phone? As the door closed behind Jimmy I exploded.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” I hissed trying not to wake up our son upstairs.

“I went for a ride with an old friend, is that a problem?” she asked with a bit of an attitude.

“Aye, chill with the attitude, I’m the one that should be mad. My girlfriend left me at a club to go be with another motherfucka she knows I don’t like,” I said as Jasmine rolled her eyes.

“Well, my man was dancing all up on a ho like he’s single so I guess we even, and can both be pissed the fuck off together then. Ugh, I can’t wait to go back to Georgia, this was a mistake coming here to visit, It just was too soon,” she said walking away as I followed her upstairs.

“What the fuck does that mean? You really feel visiting me was a mistake?” I asked as she stopped walking.

“Jey, all I wanted was to spend time with you, and all you’ve done is spend time with everyone else but me and our son! I feel like we don’t belong here Jey, that’s why I left in the first place!” Jasmine exclaimed as I ran my hands over my face in frustration.

I knew she was right; I had been on the go since they got here, and I had promised I wouldn’t be. I truly had no defense for my actions.

 I was in keep-busy mode because that’s all I had been doing since Jasmine had left with our son a couple months ago.

This was my fault, I agreed to host that party at the club tonight knowing they were here. I asked today to be added to the meet and greet for tomorrow instead of enjoying my day off with them.  

“Baby, I’m sorry ok can we just talk about it in the morning. I promise I’mma make it right please, I don’t want us to go to bed mad at each other,” I said as she sighed in defeat.

“I’m not mad, I’m hurt and I’m not going in there with you pretending everything is ok when it isn’t. I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom. I put my bags in there earlier anyway,” Jasmine said as I frowned at her not believing what she was saying.

Jasmine’s POV

“You ain’t staying in the spare bedroom, that’s for guests and this is yo’ fuckin’ home regardless of how you feel about it. “Jey I’m not,” I started as Jey cut me off firmly. “Jas! You ain’t stayin’ in there and that’s it!” Jey said as I felt myself shiver at his commanding deep voice.  

I was speechless looking at him trying to remain unfazed. “You are sleepin’ in our room…. In our bed, and in my fuckin arms 'cause that’s where you belong, nowhere else,” Jey said full of conviction as I shook my head in defiance at him.

“I ain’t doin’ this wit you, I’m going to check on Jayden,” I whispered walking away from him and peaking my head into our son’s room. I couldn’t help but be in awe of him as he slept in his crib.

He’s almost a year old, and I still can’t believe we made his little amazing self; he looks so much like Jey it’s scary.

I felt Jey’s eyes on me as I turned to see him standing now in the doorway of the bedroom, we shared together for the last four years up until four months ago.

His intense gaze makin' me weaker in the knees by the second as I closed my eyes finally breaking eye contact with him, it was too intense.

“Jasmine, we been playin’ this game for four months too long…Don’t make me have to come get you. Tell our son goodnight, and get yo’ fine ass in here so we can go to bed,” I heard him say as I opened my eyes ready to give a smart-ass reply but saw he had already disappeared into the bedroom.

I could hear him shuffling around the room, then the shower started. I blushed to myself at the thought of him getting naked to take a shower. “No, remain strong Jasmine,” I whispered to myself as I went to the spare bedroom.

Jey’s POV

 “I know her ass betta be in there when I get outta this shower. Sick of this shit, she knows I love her ass,” I muttered letting the hot water and steam relax me.

Ok, maybe my approach wasn’t the best, but I love my family and if I have it my way they won’t be going back to Ga if I can help it. “Jey, you got to get it together and get yo’ family back,” I muttered to myself stepping out of the shower and drying off.

Walking back into the bedroom I saw Jasmine wasn’t there. “Oh, so yo’ ass think I’m playin’ wit you huh,” I muttered to myself wrapping my towel around my waist, and heading down the hall. I could see the light under the door and as I got closer I heard her on the phone with her mom.

“Hold on mama let me put you on speaker, I'm changing," she said as I heard her mother take a deep breath. "Now like I was sayin' Mama I am trying, we came out here didn’t we,” Jasmine said as her mother laughed.

“Girl, you flew out there with hell in you, 'cause of them thirsty ass Instagram comments on his post he made about being happy ya’ll were flying out to see him. “Mama, I wasn’t mad,” Jasmine said as her mother laughed.

“Baby, he loves ya’ll. I know all the female attention he gets worries you especially since he’s on the road more with them adding more house shows,” she said as I frowned at her words as Jasmine wiped her tears.

“I know he loves us mama, and I love him.  I just want him to act like he’s in an actual relationship. I mean stop making these women think they have a shot with you dude, you got a family at home waiting on you. That's why I gave him the engagement ring back and told him we needed space,” Jasmine hissed as I sighed. Damn was I that bad?

“Baby, why do you think that man has been begging, calling nonstop, and flying to Georgia on every off day he has just to come to little ol Warner Robins, GA even if it’s only for a couple hours. He misses ya’ll and wants his family back. You gotta let him in baby, this been goin' on long enough,” her mother said as I felt the need to make my presence known as I opened the door.

Walking inside I saw her standing nervously there in her bra and underwear talking to her mom as she spotted me trying not blush.

Yea, I’m looking at yo’ fine ass. Damn, my baby was fine as fuck, it had been four months too long for my liking. How the hell did I even let her leave in the first place.

Jasmine’s POV

I can’t believe he brought his ass in here, didn’t even fuckin’ knock. He is getting next to my nerves I swear. I see him lick his lips looking at me as if he could devour me whole.

I ain’t gon’ lie, I felt powerful as hell.  I could see and feel his need for me, just from his intense stare that seemed to be burning a hole in my soul and it made my thighs quiver at the thought of being in his arms. He knows what he’s doing coming in here in that lil ass towel.

“I love you, sweetie, give my grandbaby my love,” my mother said as I smiled. “I will mama, good night and love you too,” I said rushing to get off the phone.

“Why are you in here?” I asked as Jey began walking closer to me almost like he was stalking his prey. “I told you to take yo’ ass in our room, but you just keep tryin’ me,” he smirked as I shrieked in shock as he picked me up and put me over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?”! I hissed as Jey carried me down the hall back to our room. “What does it look like? I’m takin’ your ass back to where you belong, which is in our bed wit me with yo’ stubborn ass,” he said not missing a beat as I hit his back continuously.

“Put me down Jey! This shit ain’t funny!” I exclaimed irritated as he laughed. “Calm yo’ ass down, before you wake up the baby. I want you to myself da night,” he said slapping me hard on the ass before tossing me on the bed as tried to gather myself.

 Sitting up on my elbows, my eyes met his smirking face, and it made me madder.  “Oh, you want me to yourself?” I asked smartly rolling my eyes.

Yeah, I do. That ain’t gon’ never change Jasmine,” he said as I got up and tried to walk past him as he growled pulling me close.

“Jey let me,” I started as he took me in a possessive kiss, pinning my arms behind my back with one hand as the other grasped my neck, angling my mouth for better access as our tongues battled for control.

“Mmm, we can’t, we said we would wait,” I moaned against his lips as he released my arms, and I tangled my fingers in his hair. “Yes, we can baby, I got you,” Jey said picking me up by my thighs as I wrapped my legs around his waist tightly, as his towel fell to the floor. God, it felt so good to be this close to him again, I needed him bad.

“I want you so bad baby; Daddy missed you, and he needs his pussy,” Jey whispered against my lips as he ripped my underwear. “Fuck! I missed you too,” I moaned moving my kisses to his neck as he groaned moving us to the bed.

“Can I have you, it’s been so long Jazzy” Jey moaned gently sucking on my neck as I shivered at his use of his nickname for me.

“Jey, I’m still mad, we need to talk,” I moaned, unexpectedly gasping along with him as he entered me suddenly, both of us shivering at the feeling of our bodies and souls becoming one with each other again after four long months.

“You can be mad all you want tomorrow. Not da night, you gon’ enjoy Daddy reclaiming his pussy,” Jey moaned never stopping his thrusts as my hands clawed at his back as he hissed.

 “Jey, you feel so good,” I gasped as my body felt like I was on fire, I bit his neck before attacking his neck with kisses, sucking greedily, applying pressure trying to leave my mark for the world to see. I wanted them to know he was mine.

“Yea, suck that shit and mark me up, this yo’ dick, let’em know I’m yo’ man fuck,” Jey encouraged as I purred at his words as he rolled us over with me now on top. “Jey! Shit! Mmm,” I whimpered scratching down his chest, feeling him so deep from our new position.

“Uh huh, daddy deep in his pussy ain’t he? Come on and ride Daddy's dick and tell him how much you missed him. Tell me how this pussy was made just for me,” Jey groaned grasping my hips as I began riding him slowly enjoying the jolts of electricity going all over my body.

“Mmhmm, it’s made just for you daddy, you hear her talking to you,” I moaned talking my own shit as Jey growled beneath me as the sounds of my wet pussy sinking up and down on his dick filled the room along with our moans of desperation.

“Fuck Yea, Daddy hear, see, and feel her, damn she wet and tight as fuck. Talk yo’ shit girl, you makin’ daddy dick even harder. Give me dat pussy,” Jey groaned slapping my ass before grabbing my breasts with his hands almost painfully squeezing my nipples while meeting my slow deep thrust.

Shit, he knows what to say and what to do to set my body on fire and I loved it. I’m addicted to him, and I didn’t care who knew it.

Jey’s POV

“Yea, ride that shit slow and deep, you know how much I love dat shit,” I panted biting my lip trying not to lose control. “Mmm, I guess you did miss me, Daddy. Shit, you gettin’ even harder,” Jasmine moaned swirling her hips beginning to bounce harder on my dick with wild abandon.

“Fuck yea, I missed you, only you can get me like this,” I moaned not afraid to let that shit be known slapping her on the ass again as she whimpered, her body shivering with anticipation.

"Oh! Fuck, you promise it’s only me that gets you like this…You promise,” Jasmine groaned leaning down, kissing me with all her might as I groaned complete putty in her hands. I held her closer as our eyes met.

 In that moment I knew I had to let her know how I felt. “We gon be ok, you hear me,” I whispered as she nodded as a few unshed tears fell from her beautiful eyes as we both were chasing our orgasm.

“Say you hear me,” I said more demanding, sitting us up as she held on to my neck as I gripped her hips helping her keep pace, thrusting her even harder down on my dick.

The feel and sounds of her wetness was driving me insane. “Tell me you hear me Jasmine,” I moaned, sucking on her neck trying to leave my own mark. “Josh, I hear you!” She cried as I moaned in satisfaction hearing my real name fall from her lips in passion as I rained kisses from her neck back to her beautiful lips.

“I ain’t never letting you go, we workin’ this shit out,” I growled holding her gaze as I reached between us rubbing her clit, while meeting her thrust with equal power.

"Oh my God," Jasmine moaned as I knew she was close. “You gon’ cum hard for daddy? You gon’ gush on daddy’s dick ain’t you?” I said, taking her in a deep kiss as she whimpered in my arms.

“Mmhmm!” she whimpered in pleasure as our tongues danced passionately with each other as I felt her nails scratching my back as she fell apart in my arm. “Josh, I love you!” she moaned as I saw the look of ecstasy that washed over her as her orgasm took over.

“Fuck, you are so fuckin’ beautiful. I love you too,” I said feeling my dick get even harder as I kept thrusting. Yeah, you gon’ give me another one and it’s gon’ be big.

Jasmine’s POV

 “Mmhmm, I want you to give me another one Jazzy,” Jey growled reversing our position as he now towered over me, playing with my sensitive clit, thrusting long and hard trying to make me cum again.

“Josh, I can't, it's too much,” I moaned as sweat dripped from his face, falling onto my chest as he kissed me speechless “I…Said. Give…It…To…. Me…Now, “Jey growled against my mouth, each thrust more powerful than the last as my pussy gripped him like a tight vice, and I couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Josh! I’m cummin’!” I cried as my pussy quivered and gripped him even tighter as another orgasm rippled through my body.

“Oh yea, that’s what I wanted, shit! Give it all to me baby, I’m cumin too!” Jey groaned loudly as he came inside me. I could only hear the heavy beat of my heart and our heavy breathing in sync as he collapsed beside me holding me close as we came down from ecstasy.

“You know you I ain’t letting you go right? We a family and gon’ stay one,” he said as I smiled. “I know and I ain’t letting you go either,” I whispered as he kissed me gently.

“When I’m on the road all I think about is you and lil man, you ain’t never gotta worry bout, nothin’ girl, I love ya’ll and I ain’t messin’ dat up for nobody he said as I tried not to get emotional. "I know, baby it's ok," whispered as he held me closer.

"I was outta pocket not stopping her from dancing all up on me like that, I promise it won’t happen again,” Jey said as I sighed tracing his arm tattoo.

“I love you and I’m sorry about leaving the club with Carmelo,” I said honestly as he growled. “You had my ass trippin’ I was ready to kill his ass, Jasmine. I don’t even wanna imagine you wit somebody else,” Jey said as I shook my head.

“Can we just drop it for tonight before one of us gets mad again,” I said as he laughed.

“A'ight new rule, we ain’t never goin’ to bed angry in this house again,” Jey whispered caressing my face as I smiled. “I like that rule, no more going to bed angry,” I whispered settling in his arms as we both fell asleep.

The end

 Taglist: @reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl @mya2real

[ghiblinsm]

Objective 1: Make Anya's lock

Mouthwashing x Jimmy's Daughter! Reader

part 1-ish?

word count: 2,526 words and 13,690 characters

"Reality, such a strange thing to me,"

warning: jingle bob, reader is morally grey but not in a pussy curly way, you may end up hating her depending who your favorite character is.

You jerk awake look over to see Curly heaving and groaning in agony, thrashing as much as he can with...well with his situation. His pained sounds are like nails on chalkboard as you walk over to the small pile of pain killers on the table grabbing one and stepping towards Curly.

"Ok Grant, open wide..." The grossest part is having to touch his nasty jaw to open it wide enough for him to take the pills. Popping one in and closing it back up as shiver crawl up your spine from the sound of his swallowing. "eugh.."

You sit down on a spinning chair near Curly and rest your head on your hand, needing to wait for him to stop heaving and thrashing to know if the pain killer worked, again. God... He smells like shit, guess that's what would happen though if one were practically skinned and lost four limbs and couldn't shower.

He finally stops thrashing and his heart rate returns to normal, his staring problem hasn't been fixed though, his singular eye staring intensely at you and your permanent scowl which deepens as he continues to stare. You stand up and kick the chair away while maintaining eye contact with Curly's eye.

"...What? What'd you want?" His staring continues as his mouth breathing seems to be getting louder and more unbearable. "well?! Speak up!"

"The voices in my head,"

You look at him then to the table and back at him, sighing in frustration as your fist clench. It would be dumb to get mad at him for doing the only thing he can do, stare.

"Whatever," you finally turn to leave as his eye follows your movement, "Anya will come by later, have fun till then I guess."

The door closes behind your retreating figure with Curly still looking in your direction.

You walk past Anya and Swansea talking about Curly and Repairs or something, and head to the main area, where Daisuke is sitting down by the big screen that's displaying a sunset into water and playing on the small console you made a while back with only a singular pixelated game that crashes if the smallest thing goes wrong.

You could care less where he is so that doesn't matter right now.

Despite clearly seeing what Daisuke is doing you still ask, "Hey, Daisuke. What-um whatchu up to?.."

"My friends from my dreams,"

"Hey! Yeah, I'm just trying to get passed this level but it keeps crashing..." He looks a bit slump but hopeful as the game crashes again from one of his choices. "But I swear I'm gonna get it this time!-"

"uhuh, thats nice. Hey, when you were with Swansea earlier, did you guys find any extra parts that weren't needed for the ship to function?..." you lean against the wall to try and seem as if you don't care what the answer is but truthfully...you really need a few parts, to create at least one lock.

Daisuke looks at you for a moment, as if contemplating whether to tell you or not. On one hand, Swansea had told him not to give you any extra parts anymore because quote, 'who knows what she's doing with those parts', but on the other hand you haven't done anything weird with scraps yet...

"Nah, we didn't find anything, are you trying to make something?" Maybe if he knows what you're trying to make, then Swansea will let him give stuff to you!

"Nothing, nothing...was just wondering, don't worry about it i'll- i'll figure something out," you head to the door to leave the main area barely muttering a goodbye.

"Bye?..huh" Daisuke watches as you leave then focuses back on the botched console.

"They whisper to me,"

You mindlessly roam through the empty halls, deep in thought but not thinking of anything in particular. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear this agitating, grating voice from this greasy haired, internalized homo bitch.

"And what are you doing?" you sigh out in annoyance at the slight accusatory tone in his voice.

"The devil's on my shoulder.."

You look up at his face, his brows furrowed but his eye's show irritation. "Nothing, Captain." you learned pretty quickly, after he appointed himself Captain, that for him to leave you alone most of the time, just fuel his ego to be better than Grant.

"Have you made what I asked for yet?" Right...his 'need' for a master key to the rooms that can lock.

"No, I haven't gotten to it." And even if you had the materials, his key wouldn't exactly be a priority.

"And why haven't you gotten to it?" Ugh, the piss baby's getting upset.

"I haven't gotten to it because there hasn't been as many free materials for me to use." Before he speaks you continue, "And even if I had the materials, Anya was the first to start bitching to me about something she needs."

That grabs his attention, what would Anya need? Before you can leave, he grabs your shoulder and turns you back around to face him. "What exactly did Anya say she needed?" his eyes with a sort of craze look.

"How the hell should I know? I told her not to bother me until i've got materials, which seem to be nonexistent anymore on this barren ship." Thats a lie, you know exactly what she wants and why, but you hate Jimmy more then you dislike Anya so why would you tell him?

He stares intently into your eyes, like he's trying to detect if you're lying or not. "You better not be lying."

"I'm not, she's only priority because I had her save her spot by trading me a few pills..." God, when is he going to leave you alone.

He finally backs up and walks away, purposefully knocking into your shoulder to make you stumble.

"But I like the way he sings,"

With a small, irritated smirk, you try to find Swansea. Considering the state of the ship, it's hard to believe that they truly haven't found any scraps you can use.

You find Daisuke and Swansea in a storage room, Daisuke halfway inside a vent and Swansea watching from below, holding the ladder and instructing Daisuke on what to do.

"Hey, Swansea?" He barely jerks in surprise but turns his head to look in your direction, still keeping a grip on the ladder Daisuke's on.

"What do you need?" His gruff, slight accented voice sounds tired...whatever anyway.

"Have y'all found any scraps? Anya has a request for me and I don't have any materials." You know Swansea knows that something happened to Anya, just not exactly what happened, so hopefully he'll give you something.

He contemplates for a bit, likely debating the pros and cons if you're lying. There's silence apart from Daisuke yelping from almost shocking himself which snaps Swansea back.

He's sighs and nods to his left, a pile of scraps that they did indeed find. "it's over there."

"Great, thanks.." Daisuke almost slips off the ladder from the tone of your voice, knowing his lost aura points with you and most definitely fumbled from lying earlier.

"Love me endlessly,"

You grab all the scraps, using your uniform jacket as a bag of sorts to carry the metal and frayed wires.

Once you leave the room Daisuke peek down the vent to look down at Swansea and whines. "You made me fumble the huzzzz."

Swansea looks at him with a confused look, "I made you fumbled the, what the fuck?"

Anya was in the medical room watching over Curly when you come walking in with the scrap, a few tools, and the pills she traded you for the lock.

Anya looks up at you from beside Curly with her half lidded, very much tired, eyes. They widen with some kind of hope at the sight of your splayed-out scrap and tools on the only table in the room.

"What kind of lock do you want?" You get some water from the sink to take one of the pills which will hopefully kick in before you start working so you focus better.

"Um, I guess any that can lock from inside the room." Anya's obviously apprehensive, not to blame her, it's not exactly reassuring to have someone on drugs, making a safety lock that supposed to be a secret from the captain whom she is also related to.

She receives a hum from you then turns back to Curly, surprised at the slight rise in his heart beats per minutes. She stands and walks over to the pile of pain killers. "How long has it been since you gave him his medicine?"

You look up from your botched looking layout to Anya, "what time is it now?"

"And when I wake, have my soul to keep,"

She groans and grabs about 2-3 pills and walks back to Curly but hesitates to touch his jaw, quietly gagging. Annoyed at her for taking so long and acting like a baby you get up from where you were sitting and walk over, "I got it, just don't throw up in here."

She rushes out the room with a trashcan, leaving you to once again touch Curly's buck nasty bloody, burnt, bandaged jaw.

After giving him his medicine, and Anya has yet to return, probably yakking her guts out. The drugs start kicking in and well, the thin filter you had sorta slips as you get to making Anya's lock.

"This was your fault, know," Curly's one eye looks over at you as you talk to him, "you were the one to enable him," you turn in the spinning chair to face his direction but not looking up from a stubborn sheet of metal that won't bend correctly.

"I may have known what he did, but Anya didn't tell me, she told you, and you barely believed her until you saw him having a pussy breakdown in the halls." You look up from finally getting the metal into the right shape and see Curly staring at you with a shaky chest.

"You're worse than me." He sees your dilated pupils before you turn your back to him again as Anya enters.

"Desperately, they beg me not to leave,"

"Hey, Anya?" She turns to see you holding a few weird mashed pieces.

"Hm?"

"Where do you this to be placed?" Oh! oh... that- that does not look like it'll keep her sleeping quarters locked...

"Uh, yeah, just over here." She walks you over to her sleeping quarters and opens the door. Turning once you got inside and points to a spot on the door frame. "Can it be placed here?"

"Yeah, I guess," you grab a soldering gun to attach it to the frame, "here's the key," your hand pulls out a small key from your pocket with your other holding the soldering gun. "DON'T LOSE IT, I don't have enough materials to create another one."

"Okay, thank you." There's a hint of gratitude in her tone as she grabs the key and leaves her sleeping quarters.

"The fire in my eyes,"

You easily attach the new lock onto the door and frame and make sure it's not loose or anything, otherwise some people may be able to break in. It's still weird that the sleeping quarters don't have locks but at least you can actually add them now without getting credits docked, considering pony express, dumb name btw, went bankrupt.

You leave her room and see Daisuke trying to act nonchalant and leaning on a wall nearby...he's not subtle in his motives with the way his eyes rapidly glance at you to see if you're looking. looking at the look then back at him you get an idea.

"Hey, Daisuke?" you're surprised at how fast his head turns to you with the most...irritating small smile rather than his usual, goofy, big one. "Can you help me test out this lock?"

He tries to cooly stride over but stumbles over a few dead wires and then just walks over. "Yeah! totally, what do I need to do?"

"Go into Anya's room, lock the new lock on her door, there should be a latch option.., and tell me when so I'll try to barge in. Tell me if the lock loosens or twitches or something." you make sure to explain in the simplest way possible, so Daisuke understands.

"Got it!" He enters the Anya's room and you hear a fumble of a switch, another sound of a switch, the jingle of the lock, and then the latch.

"is burning at my feet,"

A heavy sigh leaves from you as he probably thought something else was the lock, something turned on, so he turned it off, looked at the keyhole of the lock then finally saw the latch. "Ready!"

You back up a bit then throw yourself into the door, repeating a few times till getting an answer from Daisuke, a very scared Daisuke who genuinely felt a tad afraid from the aggressiveness of the shoves into the door, like you actually were trying to break it down instead of checking the lock.

He comes out a bit shaken but acts really tough, "Didn't even move an inch," he seems a bit proud until...

"You or the lock?" you snicker at his faux offended look on his face.

"For your information, the lock did infact stay put and so did I." He crosses his arms proudly but melts when he hears your words.

"Mhm, you were a very brave baby." you said it jokingly, obviously, so he quickly regains his composure once he realized.

"miles away from his life,"

You bend down to grab your tools as Daisuke seems to want to ask you something but is hesitant to. "He-Hey? do you want to come to my-"

Here comes the father-in-law, the fun crusher, the erratic homo, Jimmy. "What's going on here?"

Daisuke stifles a snicker at the sight of you rolling your eyes as you turn towards Jimmy's direction. "Nothing, I was talking with Daisuke about dumb stuff."

Seems like he grew something down there since he starts demanding shit you definitely ain't gonna follow. "Listen, I am the captain now and my key should be made first, it should be top priority!-"

Shaking your head you cut him off, "Yeah, yeah, you're right, once I get the materials, I'll get started on your key right away." a big fat lie since you definitely won't be working on it anytime soon, it'd be a waste of time and a waste of material. It's better to just put it off and say stuff to make him happy.

"without his love i'm not alright,"

"You better.." wow. . . so ominous and scary better get to work on that key card right away!

"Don't worry your pretty lil head, okay Jimmy? I've got it, you just go do your important little captain things, okay?" you gently start pushing him back towards the cockpit till he eventually grumbles and walks away.

You turn towards Daisuke, "Get a load of this guy." pointing your thumb back at Jimmy's retreating figure. Daisuke bursts into laughter(calm down it ain't that funny) and you two head to the main area.

Objective completed:

Anya will remember your generosity.

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Curly's relationship with you:❤️❤️

Becoming strained as your rambles become more personal and targeted.

Anya's relationship with you:💜💜💜

She trusts you enough and doesnt hate you but can't help but feel uneasy around because of yimpy.

Swansea's relationship with you:🧡🧡🧡

Doesn't hate you but because of your relationship to Jimmy he doesn't always trust you to give you scraps.

Daisukes relationship with you:💛💛💛💛

He's glad to have someone near his age to talk to and hang with that knows what references he makes, his heart beat raises when you two talk.

Jimmy's relationship with you:💙

Very strained from y'all's relationship, he didn't exactly raise you, was only obligated to give you shelter when your mom died, but when you were 18 you moved away and y'all only met again 2 years ago when his was 'introduced' to you from Curly before a shipment trip.

A/N: i feel like daisuke is the most out of character, oof.. but yay! first mouthwashing fic!