#wonderful leanne...

[eddiegettingshot]

i know everyone was saying theyre trying to do like lone star 2.0 for conservatives but whats most interesting to me about the nashville casting is that 3 (?) of the confirmed firefighter characters are in their twenties/solidly gen z ......... kind of a major departure from both og and lone star

[lynzishell]

The Present 🤍 San Myshuno

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Phoenix: [whispers] G’night Annie. Love you.

Phoenix: She’s finally asleep. Dawn: Oh good. Phoenix: You wanna watch a movie or something? Dawn: Um… no. Not tonight.

Phoenix: What’s on your mind? You seem down. Dawn: I need to tell you something. Phoenix: Okay. Dawn: You remember the letter, the one from your dad?

Phoenix: The one you said you shredded? Dawn: [nods] Yeah, I didn’t do that. I kept it in case you changed your mind. Phoenix: I’d be lying if I said I was surprised. But I haven’t changed my mind, and I’m not going to. Dawn: Why?

Phoenix: You know why. Dawn: I guess I just don’t understand. I really think you should at least read it. See what he has to say. Phoenix: It doesn’t matter what he has to say, Dawn. He’s never been a father to me. He doesn’t get insert himself into my life and start now. Dawn: I know, but… Look, if you read it and still choose to throw it out and never contact him, then that’s fine. I’ll never bring it up again. But at least you’ll be making that decision with all of the information.

Phoenix: You read it. Dawn: Yeah. I did. Phoenix: I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me either. So, what does it say then? Clearly there’s something in there that you think is important, so what is it?

Dawn: Well, I- I think you should just read it. I think it’s better coming from him.  Phoenix: That’s bullshit. I don’t care about him or anything he has to say. But I care about you, and I want to know what has you all twisted up. So, tell me. Dawn: … Phoenix: Dawn? Dawn: Fine. He’s nine years sober, he lives out west, and he has an eight-year-old son… You have a brother.

Phoenix: … Dawn: Do you— Phoenix: How long have you known this? Dawn: … Phoenix: Right. You’ve kept this from me this whole time? Dawn: I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my intention to keep it secret. I just thought you needed time, so that’s what I told him, and then life just got so busy and before I knew it weeks and months were going by, and I—

Phoenix: W-wait. Back up. Told who? Dawn: What? Phoenix: You told him I needed time. Who’s “him”?

Dawn: I said that? Phoenix: Mhm. Dawn: Okay, look, I just sent him a short email and told him that we got his letter, that you didn’t want to speak to him, but I thought maybe you just needed some time.

Phoenix: … Dawn: …

Dawn: Phoenix? Phoenix: …

Dawn: [walks over to him] Please talk to me. I know you’re angry, but— Phoenix: Angry? That’s a fucking understatement.

Dawn: I’m so—

Phoenix: I have been very fucking clear how I feel about this, about him! And yet you went behind my back and contacted him?! I can’t even wrap my head around that! What the hell would possess you to do that? I ask you to destroy the letter, and you do this?! And you keep secrets from me?! I— You knew I had a brother and yet, every day, EVERY FUCKING DAY, you looked me in the eye, and you said nothing! For months! What the fuck, Dawn?! WHAT THE FUCK?!

Dawn: [reaches out to him] Phoenix, please calm do— Phoenix: Do not fucking touch me right now!! Dawn: [flinches away]

Phoenix: Shit. I’m sorry. [deep breath] I’m gonna go for a run. Dawn: What? Now? Phoenix: I can’t be here. Dawn: Please don’t go. Phoenix: I’ll be back. I just… I need to think.

[hjbender]

Was in a bad mood today. Driving to town. Can’t Fight the Moonlight came on the radio

To this day I still see that Ai no Kusabi AMV as clearly as I’d seen it 20+ years ago

Had to smile a little

[the-unconquered-queen]

What are some Choices books that you feel if they came out today, they’d probably be single LI books? Because I've given it some thought and I'd say some of them might have been:

The Royal Romance: Would have absolutely been a Liam-only book (I’ve talked about this a bunch in the past), so you’d end up marrying the heir to the throne, Liam/Lia instead, and honestly it would’ve probably worked out better for the writers in the long run if they were only going for a specific narrative instead of trying to force the one-arc-fits-all thing most players have complained about in the series at some point.

Ride-or-Die: Not only is MC’s attraction to Logan something that sets off the story, but I also can’t imagine Colt or Mona being love interests following how modern books are. Don’t know what f!Logan would be called, though.

Save the Date: I mentioned this once before, but I think it would’ve been a Justin book which would’ve leaned harder into a “forbidden romance”, but I imagine this book having come out in their affairs era because it would have been the epitome of the stuff PB loved back then: an LI who’s MC’s “boss” and also I maintain that they would’ve made Justin/Justine the one having the wedding, and of course you’d end up breaking them and their fiancée up, so there’s that other component PB was obsessed with. But since that wave of books seems to have ended (abated?), then the engagement/fiancée arc possibly wouldn’t be a thing today, but there’s every chance they’d still throw in a gf to be MC’s rival as a subplot.

I also wonder if they’d have made Open Heart a single LI book (they practically did anyway) but the thing about OH is that it’s not mandatorily a romance book, so for that they’d have had to make the romance a main part of the story.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

But at the same time! Are there any recent(ish) Choices books that you feel would have been multiple LI books in the past? Because I’ve got thoughts about that, too, but the only thing I've got so far is:

Crimes of Passion: Ruby and Luke would’ve absolutely been romanceable, and they’d have been a bigger part of the story for it, too. The MC x Trystan romance doesn’t really play a crucial role until b2 anyway, and everything that happened in b1 could’ve been accomplished with them as good friends as well. Trystan would’ve still been the main LI, just not the only one.

And then sometimes I've wondered if TCH (b1 at least, if they hadn't planned it as a series) would have let you choose whether you ended up with Kieran or a Sun Court LI (potentially Radiance if they weren't a traitor and dead—moreso because of the dead part because even as a traitor they could've had the same b2 arc they gave Aerin in Blades 2, since Radiance is already a copy of b1 Aerin), but idk, probably not, since the series hinges so much on Kieran being in love with MC and them having that Beauty and the Beast thing going on.

[clickerflight]

Was Dr. LeAnne right that Dr. Anthony would have tried to take Alpha-2 away for himself even if she hadn't started a power struggle, or was that paranoia on LeAnne's part?

(love the story btw!)

AHHH thank you!

Dr. LeAnne is very very right about Dr. Anthony. If she doesn't win this battle, Alpha-2 will be his personal weapon. Is that worse than being Dr. LeAnne's? That is a good question >:3

(It's worse and better in some ways. If he got Alpha-2 the project would slow way way down and he would go through a hecc ton of pain but might be able to break through the brain washing but his body would be absolutely broken. If Dr. LeAnne wins, she'd go heavy on the brainwashing and Stockholm syndrome as she's the only person there being sweet to him in any capacity. So he'd come out healthier, but his brain would be wrecked.)

[woncheolisms]

where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)

summary: “you confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesn’t matter ” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions

word count: 1981

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties

event masterlist

There is a light in Shoyo that just won’t dim. Not that you want it to. It’s your favorite thing about him.

There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. He’s lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. It’s not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.

It’s no wonder you’re hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.

Friend.

The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyo’s hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didn’t even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.

High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he won’t. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.

Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You can’t trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.

Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.

“Ready for dinner?”

Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyo’s choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesn’t like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.

When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you don’t bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you don’t want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.

“Are you excited for beach volleyball?”

He nods around a mouthful of noodles. “I have just two years to learn it, so I’m a bit nervous. But I can’t wait to start!”

You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. “You’ll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.”

And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.

You can feel your shoulders drop.

After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.

As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.

When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.

“I have something to say.” You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.

“For the last three years, you’ve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I can’t believe I met someone like you. You’re always so supportive, Shoyo, and you’ve really helped me be the best version of myself.”

You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyo’s face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.

“I like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.”

Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.

Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.

“You don’t have to say anything!” You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. “I don’t want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.”

You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You don’t let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.

“Do your best in Brazil, Shoyo. I’m counting on you.”

And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.

……………………

Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.

Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. It’s a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.

Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. It’s a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesn’t matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.

Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.

You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You don’t hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.

You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.

He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.

“Hi.” He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.

“Shoyo…” Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.

“Can I come in?” He asks sheepishly.

You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. “Of course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.”

You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And he’s back. You reel with the revelation.

“How have you been?” He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seems…. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.

“I’m- I’ve been good. You?”

“Me too.”

“Okay good.”

Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.

“I’m going to make tea!” You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.

Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You aren’t surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.

That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, you’re not sure you want to.

A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.

“Can we….. pick up where we left off?” He doesn’t glance up at you, playing with his hands.

You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.

“You never let me reply that day. And…. I didn’t think I should either, because I was leaving. But now…”

He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyo’s next words seal the deal.

“I like you tons.”

You can’t help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.

“I like you tons too.”

Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty eight | part two

authors note: see at end of chapter.

warnings: fluff and angst

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

chapter song inspo: 'that's the way it is' by celine dion

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 16k

Daytime is easier, nighttime is trickier, but bedtime is when it all comes to a head.

When Solana removes the decorative pillows and pulls back the covers. When she lifts Dulce and places her fur baby on the same bed that she climbs into shortly after. When Solana adjusts the blankets and shifts onto her side, her hand planted on her growing baby bump. And, she closes her eyes, prepared to sleep. That's when it hits her.

The light is still on.

The light is still on.

The light that Roman always shuts off for them before he climbs into bed with her, gently tugging her close and into him. His strong arm securely wrapped around her as he kisses her temple and tells her he loves her.

But, none of that happens.

It doesn't happen, because he's not here.

The light is still on.

That's when the tears come. When Solana does her best to soothe herself, sometimes grabbing her phone and looking at pictures of them. Even reaching for one of his shirts, swapping out her gown for something that holds her husband's masculine scent.

It doesn't work.

Not usually.

If anything, it makes things worse.

Reminds her that once again, he's not here.

The light is still on.

-------

She spends her days as best she can. Rarely, if ever, alone. Paloma makes sure of that. If it’s not her abuela forcing her to leave the bed and come sit in the living room as they quietly watch TV, it’s Afia and the children coming over to keep her company. It’s Bayley coming in the room with her as the two sit and talk, discussions about what will be like when this all passes, and they can return home. Aurora is brought over by her mom, usually, Solana able to spend a few hours with the little girl, mentoring and just interacting with her.

Solana appreciates it. She does. It helps her to not be too into her head, but at the end of the day, it all still falls short. There’s not an hour that passes that she doesn’t think of her husband. 

That she doesn’t wonder about what Roman’s doing. How he’s doing. What his recovery is looking like. If he’s taking care of himself like he said he would. 

If he’s being safe. 

There are tears. Most definitely, there are tears. And, those are largely brought on and up when she looks down at her baby bump. As she watches it grow, the roundness of her stomach seemingly expanding week by week. As she follows along with the app. And especially when she attends her checkup appointment. Her abuela is there with her, but Roman isn’t. 

And, the lack of him is devastating. In all aspects.

She misses him. She just really fucking misses him, and as amazing as her family and support system have been, it still doesn’t take away from the fact that she feels lonely. There’s a void his absence causes that can’t and won’t be filled by anything other than their reunion. 

Solana does her best not to think of how much time passes. It only makes things worse. 

She tries to think of life after this chapter. Of a life when and where she can focus primarily on the upcoming birth of her daughters. Of what changes motherhood and parenthood will bring about for the both of them. Of the happiness that will bring. 

But, there are also those heavy, inescapable moments where she can’t help but think and dwell on what got them here. The betrayal. The lies. The loss. 

So many things have changed, and not for the better. She thinks of Jey, a perfect mixture of anger and sympathy for the man she once considered a brother. Same as her husband did. 

She’s hurt and angered by his betrayal, but she also feels for him having lost his wife, the mother of his children. His children who now have to grow up as she did, without the love and presence of their mother. 

Solana didn’t know Nicki well, and while the few interactions they had were….interesting, to say the least, she was still a person. A mother and a wife. Solana doesn’t know how much “love” was present between Jey and Nicki, but she firmly believes Nicki loved her children. And, her children loved her back.

And, it was for them, for the children, that Solana pleaded with her husband. 

She doesn’t hate Jey, but his role in the coup is not something she can easily move past. She won’t, because while she does believe he did not know the full extent, he knew something. He was still in agreement with turning against her husband, and that is enough for her. 

But, his children, for all their misbehavior, are innocent. To grow up motherless is one thing, but to grow up motherless and fatherless seems inconceivable. And, truly, Solana considered Roman when making her decision to ask him to spare Jey's life.

She considered what being orphaned, essentially, was like for Roman. It impacted him in so many ways, few of a positive nature, so much so that it made her feel like she had no choice but to ask her husband not to kill him.

Truth be told, she’s not sure if Roman will honor her request. She can only hope and pray that he does.

Then, there’s Jimmy and Naomi.

Solana holds no contempt towards them. Not really. Roman told her about his conversation with his other cousin. How Jimmy disclosed there was always some sort of discontentment from Rikishi towards Roman, and she understands why this bothers him. Why it upset him.

However, she’s not prepared to lump him in the same category as his traitorous brother. Naomi, either.

To Solana, the only thing they’re guilty of is naivety. And, more Jimmy than Naomi, because Solana still, even after everything, believes that Naomi was valid with her feelings expressed during the girls trip. Her delivery of said issues was just what Solana had problems with. Along with the fact that she hadn’t said something sooner.

And now that conversation, the necessary one that needed to happen before everything went down, that still needs to happen, remains in limbo. Because, right now, from Solana’s understanding, Roman wants nothing to do with Jimmy. She doesn’t necessarily feel the same, but it’s also not her place to tell him how to handle this. 

Right or wrong, it’s how he feels, and she respects that. She will respect it.

Granted, it leaves her feeling a bit stuck regarding how she’s supposed to navigate her relationship with Naomi moving forward. Is there still one? Can there still be one where she respects the wishes of her husband while not destroying the sisterhood she built up with the woman she really did—does—consider a sister?

Solana honestly doesn’t know.

There’s truly so much up in the air, so many things to sort through and figure out. But, at the end of the day, the number one priority is remaining healthy for her babies. She can only think of and focus on so many things at a time, and her immediate family comes first. 

Her immediate family being her babies, Dulce included, and her husband. 

Everything has to work itself out at some point.

She believes that. She has to. 

She has nothing else to believe in.

—-------

6 weeks. 

6 weeks in total that passed without any contact, any sort of interaction between Roman and his wife.

Six weeks that felt infinitely longer. As busy as he was during the time, settling all the wrongs, it never escaped him. The fact that he was alone.

He had his brother, had his two cousins, but he didn't have his wife of their dog, and the presence of close relatives didn't make up for that deficit. Not as much as he thought, or maybe hoping, it would.

Nevertheless, Roman did his best to keep himself busy. He worked and then worked some more. Killed. Killed a lot more. Thought….he thought a lot more than he worked and killed, probably.

Sessions with Lita helped, but they didn’t help enough.

Then….that.

Roman couldn’t allow himself to think of that.

His mother and grandfather a thing, even with all his pride, Roman knew he needed Solana to help him with. To sort through.

That it’s not something he could or perhaps even can handle on his own.

Hence why that shit’s been put on the backburner. 

Especially now.

Now that it's time.

Time to bring Solana home.

Roman’s return is something that was kept on a need to know basis. It’s not that he wanted to surprise Solana. They were way past that shit. He just didn’t want anyone to inform her, and some shit happened, hindering his return. Delaying it. No, he wanted to be 100% certain nothing could get in the way of him finally being reunited with his wife. 

Especially as his return falls on the day before Christmas Eve. Ideal timing. Not preferred, but ideal. He knew how upset she was about them missing their first Thanksgiving together, and while he’s never been big on holidays, he respects that that’s something important to her.

So, being able to bring her home just in time for Christmas is at least something. 

He arrives in the evening, as per Paloma’s suggestion. Makes his way through the back of the house. Also Paloma’s suggestion. 

She’d let him in, Roman a bit unsure of just how to interact with her. He thanked her, for certain, though something told him that it was unnecessary. That she was eager to spend as much time with her granddaughter just as much as Solana wanted to spend time with her.

Still, the circumstances were not ideal. For certain.

Left alone, Roman looks around the home, as if trying to see if anything has changed but also taking it all in. There's something welcoming and homely about the aroma of the food marinating in the kitchen, the sound of the TV at a low volume that serves as background noise of sorts. The windows that are partially open, allowing a nice breeze and the sounds of nature to filter throughout the abode.

Home.

It feels like home.

The sound of a single bark redirects Roman's focus as the smallest smile falls on his face.

He's moving to his knees at the same time Dulce makes a beeline for him, jumping in his arms, whimpering and trying to lick him.

Roman chuckles, petting her while standing up and still holding her. "I've missed you, too, girl." Because he has. As much as Solana is his wife, is his family, so is Dulce. The first addition to their growing family, if he's being honest with himself.

Paloma walks out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, smiling as she watches Dulce continue to wiggle around, overcome with excitement at her dad being home. "Well, I certainly see why that one is so spoiled."

Roman glances over at the older woman, offering no protest. He can also admit that Dulce pretty much gets whatever she wants, within reason.

He does wonder how that might change, if it will change, once the girls are born.

It's a thought that dims his prior smile, slows down his interactions with the still excited puppy. "How….how was she?"

Paloma lifts her chin. Something tells Roman she knows he's not referring to Dulce.

"She's missed you. A lot." He swallows. "But, all things considered, she's done well. We kept her busy, wouldn't let her sulk when she wanted to, gave her space when she needed it."

Space.

That's probably the one word Roman never wants used in regards to any aspect of his marriage ever again in life.

They've had enough space to last them a fucking lifetime.

Paloma claps the remnants of crumbs from her hands and walks over to him. Roman allows her to take Dulce, ensuring she's holding her properly.

"Go." Paloma nods toward the backdoor. "She's out by the ocean." Roman's expression must give away his curiosity, as she smiles softly. "Some of us believe water to be sacred, some say it holds memories, others say it represents life and fertility." Her grin is solemn, bittersweet. "I think it made her feel closer to you."

Roman, once again, has nothing to say in response. Is sitting on the words that are covered and too enmeshed with all the emotions he's feeling. That he refuses to show but feels nonetheless.

"Go," Paloma repeats herself, stepping back while gently caressing Dulce's head. "I think you've both waited long enough, don't you?"

Very fucking much so.

He gives Dulce a final pet on her head before nodding at Paloma. "Thank you."

For it all.

She says nothing, talking to Dulce in Spanish as she heads back in the kitchen and him out the backdoor. There's a strange, unfamiliar, weird as fuck sensation that climbs up his legs and settles into his stomach as Roman makes his way through the backyard, leading to the beach.

Nerves.

It feels like nervousness, but he hasn't the slightest clue as to why when he literally never gets nervous. Ever. Also, why the hell would he be nervous to see his wife? This is Solana. What reason does he have to be nervous about seeing her?

It's small, a glint of a thing, but it comes to him, Roman gradually realizing his nervousness comes from the fact that he's unsure how she feels. How she feels about how long they've been separated. How long he left her.

Longer than either of them would have liked, but shorter than what either feared.

He wonders….he wonders if she'll be upset with him, and that's always been something he's struggled with. He doesn't like upsetting her. Never has. But, he also knows this separation was completely beyond his control. Necessary. It was necessary for Roman to clean up the mess back home before she could return. To eliminate all potential threats.

And, that's exactly what he's done.

He just hopes she understands.

Roman manages to quietly but brusquely wave away the guards that patrol the same beach he walked on over a month ago. It feels like a lifetime. Like a millennia that he's been gone, and he's hated every fucking second of it.

Scowling at a guard who takes too damn long for his liking to leave, Roman readies to verbally accost them when he sees it.

Sees her.

Maybe a good ten to twelve feet away, she's exactly where her grandmother said she would be.

Standing by the Ocean.

Roman stills, completely overcome with all the things.

Standing, facing the water, she plays with something in her hand, her gaze focused on the waves in front of her while he focuses on something else entirely.

The fall of her long, sleeveless white dress against her stomach. Against her baby bump that's significantly more prominent than the last time he saw her. When he left, Solana could still, with the right clothes, conceal her bump. But now, he's almost certain there's no concealing that. No hiding that she's in fact pregnant, that a child grows in her womb.

Two.

He swallows, watching as she tosses whatever was in her hand into the water. Watches how she lowers her hand to her stomach, rubbing and smiling sadly. Watches as she turns to continue walking among the sand, water slapping against the bottom of her dress.

It's only then he realizes the distance happening between that.

The last thing he wants.

No more.

He's careful in his movements, long legs allowing him to close said distance with a minimal amount of time. He does his best, however, to not alarm or scare her. To keep his presence a secret, of sorts.

And, then she stops. Stops walking.

So does he.

Roman sees her head tip down, hears her quiet, soft chuckle. "You know…." His stomach twists. It's been too long since he's heard her voice. "You don't have to stay so close to me."

The smallest hint of a smile as he shoves back all those damn emotions. "I don't think I could ever not want to be close to you, pretty girl."

A gasp. A small shout even. The way her body snaps around feels almost impossibly and inhumanly too fast.

But, she does.

She does.

Solana is staring at him, mouth ajar, eyes widen, face filled with all the shock. She doesn't move. Doesn't say anything, not at first, anyway.

"Roman…"

And, that breathy, emotion filled address is followed by her gathering up the bottom of her dress and closing that damn distance between them.

Her arms are around him, holding on tighter than she's ever held him. The same way his are wrapped around her waist, her baby bump between them nothing but an additive. An inclusion into this heartwarming reunion.

"You're here," she cries into him. Her fingers grasp at the hair on the back of his neck, her body trembling against him as she sobs. "You're here…"

His eyes shut. "I'm here," he repeats, kissing her temple. He doesn't let her go. Not once. Not fucking once.

Solana holds on and clings to him, murmuring, “I’ve missed you so much.”

Roman sighs, reciprocating the exact same thing, because he’s felt the exact same thing. 

And, he tells her as such. “I’ve missed you, too, Sol.” Deeply. In all of the ways. And thinking of it, thinking of how lonely he’s felt without her soothing presence, brings up those emotions. Emotions he does his best to keep at bay. This isn’t about him. It’s about her.

But, Solana is perceptive. She knows him better than he knows himself, sometimes, it feels like. 

So, when she pulls away to look up at him, he sees it. Sees the way her gaze shifts, how she transitions from being overwhelmed with feelings of everything and above. Slides into something of concern.

She grasps his face, voice quiet but audible. "What's wrong?"

A lot of things. More than he'd like to admit, and in a weird turn of events, it has nothing to do with the reason she's had to remain in Mexico.

And everything to do with the woman he wishes would have never reappeared in his life.

Would have stayed dead.

But, that's for then. Roman mentally nor emotionally feels like discussing that. Not right now.

He wants to enjoy this.

Enjoy her.

So, he settles for a truth for her ears and her ears only.

Roman licks his bottom lip, voice quiet and vulnerable. "I've needed you…"

He sees the moment her shoulders drop, a heavy, heartfelt sigh leaving her mouth. "Mi amor….." Solana blinks, shaking her head. "Come here…." Solana pulls him back into a hug, except, this time, it feels less for her. More for him.

Because, it is for him.

She's comforting him.

Solana kisses his temple, sliding her fingers up, gently massaging his scalp. "I'm here now." He sighs against and into her. "It's okay." She's with him. He's not alone anymore, and as long as there's breath in her body, he'll never be alone again. She goes to reassure him again when a sensation causes her to still. A movement. In her stomach.

Solana jerks back, mouth slightly ajar, hands on her belly as she looks down.

Naturally, Roman's entire disposition shifts. "What's wrong?"

She doesn't say anything. She can't. She's waiting for—again.

She feels it again.

Undeniable, this time.

Emotion climbing all over once more, she murmurs, "oh my God...."

"Solana, what's wrong?" He repeats himself, the concern growing as he moves closer to her.

Shaking her head, she reaches for his hands, laying them on her stomach. She looks up, eyes still watery, and a smile weighed down with that emotion. "Feel."

Roman, however, remains equally confused as he is concerned. "Solana, what—"

Silence.

Movement.

His expression shifts once more. Less concerned. Fully taken back. "Is that—"

"It is." She nods, sniffling and explaining. "I—I was starting to get concerned, because I hadn't…I hadn't felt them at all, and I should have at this point in the pregnancy, but I think—" She reaches a hand to cup his bearded face, voice cracking. "I think they were just waiting for daddy to come back."

His eyes lock with hers, filled with all the sincerity and vulnerability. Love. Filled with love.

They're kicking. His daughters. For the first time, for the both of them, Roman and Solana can more than just see them. They can feel them.

It's something one can't truly nor accurately describe. Just an insane amount of joy and delight.

Happiness.

Solana takes her other hand and rests it atop his that hasn't left her stomach.

"Let's go home, mi amor."

—--------

It doesn't take long for the family of three to leave. Solana had wondered why so many people had been over at the house yesterday. Why it felt like they'd lingered a bit longer than usual, even with it being an early Christmas "party." She'd felt like something was off but had pushed it to the side, chalking it up to her emotions being muddy due to Roman's absence and her pregnancy.

But, now, now she knows it's because Roman had informed her abuela and the appropriate parties that he'd be coming for her, and abuela sought to make sure everyone had time to see her and say "goodbye," so that they could leave shortly after he arrived.

Which is exactly what happened. Solana's longest goodbye was with her grandmother, as was expected. It was not without the promise for Paloma to come to the states and stay with her and Roman during the last month of Solana's pregnancy to ensure she didn't miss the birth.

An easy thing for the older woman to agree to.

The best thing for Solana.

But, what's not best nor preferred and definitely not liked is the quietness of her husband. Not that Roman is ever one for many words, in the first place. But, it's the fact that she knows there's a reason behind his quietness that bothers her. It bothers her to know there's something wrong with him, and he's not saying anything.

They lay in bed together on his private jet carrying them back to a home she's been dying to see for over a month now.

It's felt so much longer than that.

So much longer.

Her fingers caress his scalp as he lays besides her, body slightly hovered over hers as he continues to rub her stomach. "I can't….I can't believe how…how much you've grown."

"You mean how big I've gotten?" She teases in a soft voice and with a small smile. He looks up with a tiny glare. She sighs, eyes falling to her stomach. "I'll be five months next week…."

He knows. She's sure he knows, and he confirms as such. "I know. I….I was following along in that app you showed me."

Her chest tightens just a bit.

So was she.

"Ro…." He's once again forced to redirect his focus from her bare belly to her concerned gaze. "Talk to me." Something flashes in his eyes, prompting her to whisper, "what happened?"

It's strange how just the gleam of something in his warm eyes say so much without saying anything. She studies the way he shifts, watches how he moves to sit up next to her. She turns and angles her body as much as she can, holding onto his arm. "Rom—"

"My mother is still alive."

One blink. Two. Three.

A what that rests on the tip of her tongue. That small part of her, though unlike his character, waiting for the joke. For the confirmation that he isn't being serious.

But, it never comes. He just continues to look down, hand on her thigh, moving up in down in calming motions.

Solana sits up, eyes slightly widened. "Wh—what?"

Roman's jaw twitches. "She's—she's alive." He turns to look at her. "She's been alive. All this fucking time."

There's a continued, lingering disbelief. One that has her with so many questions, mainly, a big, massive how. Though Roman hadn't gone into explicit specifics, the way his family was killed, she'd just assumed…

How?

Disbelief paints her face. "How—how did you find out—"

"I saw her."

Silence. "You did?"

He nods, still not looking at her, focused on the edge of the bed where Dulce sleeps peacefully, oblivious to the heavy conversation transpiring. "She—she showed up at my office. Her and….and my grandfather.”

“Grand….” Solana knew she must have missed a lot during their separation but just how much she missed is blowing her mind right now. “I didn’t….maternal?” He doesn’t provide a direct answer, but it’s not exactly necessary. She can put two and two together. But, that’s about the only thing she can piece together. “Rom—”

“She should have stayed fucking dead.”

At that, she swallows. Gone are any traces of vulnerability. Replaced is anger. 

And, a lot of it.

“Baby—”

“I don’t need her. Didn’t then. Don’t now.” Words spoken from anger and something else. Definitely something else. “Doesn’t matter if she’s alive. She’s still dead to me.”

It’s obvious a conversation occurred when his mother, his alive mother, showed up at his office. A conversation Solana would bet did not go well. Did not go well at all. But, she can also see it. See that he’s not in a place or space to have that discussion right now. It needs to be had though. For sure. But, she won’t force it. Won’t force him. 

She’ll give him his space. For now. And revisit when the time is not necessarily right—because she's not sure that exists for something like this—but better than it is now. 

Solana leans up and kisses his cheek, her lips lingering as she murmurs, “it’s okay, mi amor.” It’s not. It’s very much not okay. But, it’s been not okay since she was kidnapped and the betrayals were revealed, and that is something, she’s almost certain, he still hasn’t processed either. So, this massive, unexpected thing is going to have to take the backburner until they get everything else sorted. What exactly that looks like, she’s not sure. She just knows that she’ll be with him every step of the way in and with whatever this journey looks like.

Always.

—-------

They don't leave their bedroom. Not on Christmas Eve. Not really. Nothing but discussions, reunification, and lovemaking. Making up for all of the time lost and then some. For Roman and Solana, the world consists of only them and Dulce. Everything else is irrelevant as they engage in and indulge in each other.

A necessity after being apart for so long.

Christmas morning is special for a variety of reasons. The main one being the minute they pulled up to the house upon her return home, she was immediately taken back by the outside. Christmas lights and other decorations greeted her and Dulce, who damn near jumped out of her arm to go bark at the Santa that Roman had on the porch. 

And, the surprises continued, as Solana found the interior just as wonderfully, festively decorated as the outside.  

Tears in her eyes, she’d looked over at him in disbelief. She’s known from the beginning his stance on holidays, so coming home to find her home so beautiful and cheery, it meant so much to her. He'd done it for her, because he loves her. The reason he does majority, if not all the amazing things he does and is for her. Her eyes shut as he leaned over and kissed her forehead, murmuring, “welcome home, baby.”

A wonderful welcome it certainly was. 

Waking up extra early Christmas morning, Solana managed to sneak away, venturing downstairs to her kitchen where she was able to prepare and surprise her husband with a grand breakfast. 

Among other things. 

He’d come down the steps, partially irritated only because it hadn’t dawned on him to have the chef prepare breakfast for them. An insult to her, though. 

If there’s one thing Solana loves, it’s to cook. She especially loves to cook for her husband. And given it’s their first major holiday spent together, she’s not prepared to let it go to waste. 

She simply lets her husband hold her, leaning up on her toes to kiss him, an emotional “Merry Christmas, mi amor” on her lips right as Dulce comes running in, like the firstborn that she is, clearly eager and ready to open gifts. 

Despite Dulce’s protests, the actual gift opening doesn’t happen until after Solana and Roman have shared breakfast together, the easy, light banter and conversation between them something both had deeply missed. 

But, when it does roll around for presents to be revealed, no one is happier than Dulce who receives an abundance of toys, clothes (she could pass on that), treats, and yet more beds. 

Giggling, Solana looks over at Roman who watches, shaking his head as Dulce makes herself comfortable in her latest sleeping option. “Now, who’s got her spoiled?”

He rolls his eyes, snapping a photo of their primadonna puppy. She especially appreciates how he's had his camera out, snapping and capturing memories ever since she returned. “You started it.”

Debatable. 

Of course, Roman being Roman, went above and beyond with his gifts for his wife. Solana is certain their new house will need a separate room just for all of her clothes and accessories. Once again, she’s overwhelmed with expensive, designer bags, jewelry, etc. But, as always, what makes her the happiest are the journals and books. They mean the most to her out of anything. It’s all appreciated, but there’s something about him gifting her with something he knows she loves so deeply that makes it even better.

But, as thankful and grateful she is for his never-ending generosity, she’s most excited, albeit nervous, for her gifts for him.

“Okay,” she starts, having walked over and grabbed two of the bags she’d snuck under their tree before going to bed last night. “Your turn.”

Roman lowers his camera from where he was snapping photos of her. “Baby, you know I don’t need anything.”

“Neither did I, and that didn’t stop you.” Is her soft counter. Solana stands before him, both bags in one hand, the other hand rubbing her belly. “Plus, I had to….it’s our first Christmas together.”

And, the last Christmas where they’ll just be a family of three, because come this time next year, they’ll have their daughters.

Just the thought brings a small smile to her face.

He sighs, moving the Canon to the right of him. “Still, Sol.”

She ignores him, offering the bag with what she wants him to see first. “Open it.”

He accepts it, legs spread just enough to rest it on the exposed space of the sofa. Solana bites down on her bottom lip, watching his face the whole time to assess for his reaction. She watches how he pulls out the neatly folded shirt, the tissue paper falling to the carpet. Sees how he lifts it up, the plain black back facing her, the front facing him. 

“OTC?” 

He lowers it just enough to catch her gaze. She nods, softly, offering explanation as he moves it to his lap, fingers ghosting over the intricate design embedded behind the blood red letters. 

“You’re the Only Tribal Chief.” Once more, his eyes are on her. “My OTC.”

It’s a term she’d heard Domingo, Matteo, and Dwayne use at various points back in Mexico. A powerful term considering everything that happened. One that feels entirely applicable for her husband. 

They tried to get rid of him, tried to kill him, tried to lay claim to a throne that rightfully belongs to him. 

But, they failed.

And, they always will.

Roman Reigns is the Tribal Chief. 

The Only Tribal Chief.

“Your OTC, huh?” Her smile is shy, almost. There’s a hint of respect in his voice that means a lot to her. “I like that.” A soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he again focuses on the design, recognition dawning. “These patterns….”

“They’re your tattoos,” she answers the unasked question. “I—I designed it for you.”

His surprise is evident and unhidden. “You did?”

Another nod and an almost bashful acknowledgement. “Yeah…” She shrugs with just one shoulder, adding, “I know you’re not into….fashion and things like that, but, I don’t know, I just thought—” An unfinished statement as she’s gently tugged forward, in between his legs and then onto his lap. The shirt resting over the same arm that’s over her, his hand on the side of her belly. 

“I love it,” he murmurs, eyes flitting up and down over her. “Thank you.”

Solana’s smile is unavoidable, as she leans forward to kiss him. “You’re welcome.” Wasting no time, she hands him the other bag. “Here.”

He wordlessly accepts it only after placing the shirt on the sofa beside him, next to his camera, the gift bag carefully kicked to the side, still on the floor. 

“This one might be my favorite.” Her confession is accompanied by part 2 of watching every movement he makes before reaching the end goal. Instead of lifting it up, largely due to the fact that she sits on his lap, Roman simply lays it to the side where both of them can see it. 

An amused smile grows at the way he scowls, confusion evident as he looks down at the black shirt with white writing. Spanish. He looks at her. “What does it say?”

She giggles. “Real men make twins.”

His smile also grows, the biggest she’s seen in some time. The quiet laughter that leaves his mouth is nourishment to her soul she didn’t realize she was lacking until now. “I saw it in the market while I was on my girls trip, but I couldn’t get it, because I didn't want to risk anyone finding out about the pregnancy. But, Afia saw me looking at it and bought it for me, so I guess it’s a gift from her.”

“Naw.” He shakes his head, thumb brushing over the lettering. “It’s from you.” He lifts her hand to his mouth, kissing her palm. “And, I love it.”

A second reiteration. An overwhelming appreciation.

“Good,” she murmurs, voice softening as she takes his hand, squeezing slightly. “But, that’s not all.”

“Solana…”

Climbing off his lap, she gives the slightest tug, forcing him to stand. “Come on, papa.”

Quiet, expected grumbles as she starts to guide them out of the living room. Solana goes to call for Dulce to go with them, but a single glance reveals she’s fast asleep in her latest princess bed.

He shakes his head. “I told you she’s lazy.”

“Hush,” Solana chides lightly, holding his hand as she walks them to the back of the house, ignoring his question of where they’re going. 

But, it’s when they’re outside of her art room, she turns and looks up at him. “Okay, close your eyes.”

He sighs. “Baby—”

“Roman, I’m not going to tell you again,” she warns, crossing her arms, not missing how his eyes fall to her breast at the motion of them unintentionally being pushed together. “Close your eyes.”

He’s slightly annoyed. She can see as much. She also doesn’t care.

“Fine.” Her smile returns, as he obliges. Solana lifts and waves her hand in front of him, checking to make sure he’s not looking. Satisfied he isn’t, she opens the door and hits the light switch.

“Come on,” she encourages, taking his hands, guiding him into the room. Solana walks them over to the wall space opposite the open window, the natural light highlighting the heavy, black drape over her main Christmas gift for her husband. “Just a minute.” Solana works to remove the drape, allowing it to fall to the floor. Solana kicks it to the side, preventing it from obscuring any portion of the gift. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “Open.”

Roman doesn’t need to be told twice.

He opens his eyes.

Once again, Solana is focused solely and only on him, wanting and almost needing to see every reaction, minute to overt. And, there’s certainly a reaction.

She sees the way his face instantly softens, brows relaxed, mouth partially open. But, he doesn’t say anything, just steps forward, moves closer to the massive framed drawing that’s only a few inches shorter than him.

He stands in front of it, Solana watching silently from the side, chewing on her bottom lip. “I—I’d started one here a few months ago, but obviously, I couldn’t finish, so I….I started over while I was in Mexico. I wasn’t….I wasn’t sure I’d be able to finish it before you came back, but I did.”

She’s not certain how much of the backstory he’s retaining, as it’s obvious his attention is fully focused on the unexpected gift.

“Solana…” His voice is both heavy and quiet, the weight in it undeniable emotion. “You…you made this?”

She nods with a soft smile. “Yeah.”

He returns his attention to the large scale drawing. It’s of him. A sort of headshot with the only trace of his body being his tattooed shoulder. The main focus, however, is him, his face. A side profile, jaw and expression fierce, chin jutted. An almost regal pose. His hair down and flowing, however, is what he can’t seem to look away from. Because embedded in the ringlets of his mane are two other individuals. Subtle but visible. One smiling shyly, very similar to Solana’s own current expression. The other wearing a similar expression to his own.

His daughters.

It’s his daughters.

“I know it might…” Solana starts, sounding a bit unsure. “I know it might seem silly to include them. We’ve only….we’ve only seen them in dreams, but I….” She stops, eyes closing, hands to her belly. “I know that’s them. I just….I can feel it.” 

She just can. How or why, she hasn’t a clue. Solana just knows the sweet little twin girls that she and Roman have dreamed about for months are the little girls growing inside of her stomach. 

Visions, as she once called them. 

Glimpses of their future.

A beautiful, wonderful future. 

“Baby….” His voice is even heavier. Thick with emotion. A true space of vulnerability reserved for her and only her. “It’s beautiful.”

Her throat is heavy, eyes watering. “You like it?”

Roman scoffs and reaches for her hand, gently pulling her in front of him. He brings his hands to her face, his eyes gleaming with something confined and unspoken. “I love it.” Similar sentiments towards the shirts but deeper. Infinitely deeper. "Thank you."

Her eyes shut as he kisses her forehead, one hand dropping to her stomach, moving in a gentle circle. Appreciative. Grateful. Loving.

Solana moves herself into him, holding and hugging him as he kisses the top of her head. 

“Merry Christmas, Roman…”

—-----------

The day is spent just as Christmas Eve was spent. Together. Solana reaches out and wishes happy holidays to close friends and family, but for the most part, she’s tucked up under her husband the majority of the day. Talking, discussing, planning. The pregnancy. Post birth. The new house. Dreams of the future they’ve worked so hard to create and contribute to.

Pieces finally coming together.

She is, however, a bit surprised when evening rolls around, and he shares that they have dinner reservations at one of her favorite restaurants. It’s extremely unexpected given she’s yet to make her status as not dead a public thing yet. 

Or, rather, shared it with appropriate parties. 

But, he assures her that privacy and "secret" will be maintained, and she believes him. Roman has always prioritized giving and allowing them the space to just be. That, especially after everything that’s happened, is bound to not change anytime soon. 

If ever.

So, she obliges, getting done up, even donning a dress not even a year ago she wouldn’t dare to brave, let alone while pregnant. But, that was then. This is now. She’s a completely changed person in all the best ways. 

So, they share dinner together, talking, connecting, completely immersed in only the person sitting across from them. It’s a bit scary to her just how easy it is to get lost in Roman. The world feels like it starts and ends with him sometimes.

She wonders if he feels the same way about her.

Something tells her he does.

But, as they drive back home after almost three hours at the restaurant, Solana can feel it. Feel a shift within him. Nothing bad. Just….different. 

He’s quiet, and while she could guess that it’s largely due to them exhausting most and all topics on their date, it’s different. She can’t explain it, but she feels it. 

They ride home in almost complete silence. One of his big hands resting on her stomach, the other on the steering wheel.

She doesn’t say anything though. Prefers to wait until they’re back at the house. 

But, it’s when they arrive home, stepping out of the car, Roman closing the door behind her, Solana’s attention is immediately drawn to the front door. 

“Ava?”

Sure enough, Roman’s cousin stands at their front door, and not only is she standing in the front door, but she’s holding Dulce.

Naturally, Solana walks over, Ava meeting her halfway on the cobblestone driveway, instantly pulling her into a one arm hug.

“It’s so good to see you,” she murmurs. Only then does Solana realize this is the first time they’ve seen each other since the coup.

She sighs. Happily. “It’s good to see you, too, Ava.”

Briefly, Solana wonders if her friends will feel the same. 

Cameron. Mickie. Melina.

Will they also be relieved or too upset by the subterfuge?

It’s a thought she has to shake away, as the two women separate. Ava takes a step back, smiling widely at Solana’s bump. “Holy shit, they’re getting so big.” 

Solana giggles and rubs her bump. “They are.” However, it’s Dulce looking over, ears up, clearly wanting to be pet that redirects Solana’s attention. “What….what are you doing here?”

She looks up and back at Roman who stands close behind Solana. “I–I wanted to see you guys.”

Solana eyes her suspiciously. “Ava, you hate Roman.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“You literally told me, “I hate him.” To be fair, Solana knows that Ava doesn't actually hate Roman, but there's something about her reason for being at their house that just feels...off.

Again, more avoidance. “Okay, but that was before he almost died and shit, and then we lost an aunt. Like, a lot has happened,” she dismisses. “Besides,” her smile returns as she caresses the top of Dulce’s head, “I wanted to see this cutie.”

Solana frowns. “Dulce?”

“Duh. She’s like my favorite person in this lil fam'.” Ava reaches to rub Solana’s belly. “Until the girls get here, of course.” But before Solana can comment on Ava’s….strange demeanor, she suddenly announces, “well, I’m gonna go take her for a walk.”

At that, Solana frowns. “A walk? Dulce doesn’t go on walks this late.”

“Well, she does now.” The other woman frowns, covering her mouth with one hand to whisper, “she’s getting a little chunky.”

Dulce looks over, her ears lifting as if knowing she’s just been insulted. 

Ava, however, just offers a wave. “Have fun!” 

Solana can only open her mouth and turn to Ava who saunters off like nothing just happened. 

“What—” 

“It’s fine, Sol,” Roman advises, stepping forward and kissing her temple. 

“Where is she taking our baby?” Solana asks, trying to look past her monolithic man of a husband as he gradually guides her inside the house. “It’s getting late—”

“Damn dog sleeps all day anyway.”

Solana gasps, slapping him lightly on the chest. “Be nice.” He snorts, managing to guide her onto the porch. She continues to look off in the direction where Ava walked. “Are you sure—”

“Solana.” She turns her gaze back to him, realizing only then how serious he’d become. But, also something else….something close to trepidation. 

Like, he’s nervous. 

Solana frowns. “Roman, what’s going on?” 

In the time she’s known him, he’s never acted like this with her. So….on edge. 

But, once again, he dismisses it, instead taking her hand to lead her into their home. 

For now. 

Their home for now. 

But, that’s the least of her concerns. What sits promptly at the top of the list is the weird behavior from Ava and the uncharacteristic disposition of her husband. “Roman Tamasa Reigns—” She starts, right behind him as he goes to open the door and step inside. “What the hell is going—” She stops the second she’s inside. “On….” Solana feels like breathing is suddenly a thing only few are allowed and privy to. And, she’s not one of those people. “Oh my….” 

There’s so much to take in. The rose petals that are carefully placed and decorating the entire entryway of the home. Of various red, pink, and white colors. Heart shaped balloons in every corner. Soft music that plays in the background, a tune she can’t focus on because of everything else. Lit candles placed strategically and carefully around the home in conjunction with the low lighting that serves as the perfect ambiance. 

“Oh my God,” Solana finds words, but they’re brief and weighed down with all the emotion that fills her chest when she finally realizes what song is playing. 

Can’t Help Falling in Love 

The version from one of her favorite movies of all time, Crazy Rich Asians, from one of her favorite scenes in any adaptation of all time. 

Tears blur her vision as she looks over at her husband. “Roman…”

He says nothing, just reaches for her hand, directing her to follow him. “Come on.”

“Baby….” Her voice breaks as she does as he says, all the while taking in the beauty around her. Beauty that extends past just the foyer, the path continuing into their living room and kitchen. It’s all shades and rays of pinks and reds.

But, it’s when she sees the backyard, the petals that continue along the path there, litter their pool along with beautiful lanterns, the music even louder, emanating from the outdoor speakers, that it really breaks her. 

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?

Solana starts crying, her hand over her mouth. It takes everything in her to ask, so overcome with so many feelings, “you….you did all this for me?” She sniffles, shaking her head. “It’s beautiful.”

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

“Solana…” He moves closer to her, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “I’m not….I’m not good with words like you are, and half of this shit, I needed Ava and….Fetu’s help to figure out the best way to do” Words that make her heart stop. Fetu. If Fetu had helped Roman arrange this, then that would mean he’s been planning this for months.

Months.

He continues, swallowing, “we didn’t start out the right way, and that’s because of me. I deprived you of that. Our wedding was traumatic for you, and I fucking hate that shit more than you could ever know. I don’t ever want to be on the causing side of your trauma.”

Her eyes water, her heart aching. “Roman, you could never–”

“And, I know I can’t change what happened, but I can offer you another chance.” Solana has to remind herself the importance of breathing, watching how he reaches inside his suit jacket. “I know that my forever is with you. My forever is you, but I—I want us to do it the right way. To give you that the right way, because you deserve it, baby.”

She’s crying into her hands again as he moves to one knee. “Oh my God….”

“Solana Esmeralda Reigns, I love you, and I don’t think I’ll ever really deserve you, but I love you, and I promise to always take care of and protect you and the family we’ve made.” Her eyes widen as he pops the ring box open, revealing the most beautiful ring she’s ever seen. A massive pink diamond in the most breathtaking setting. “Will you marry me?”

Emotions. All of the emotions. Fluttering, raining, running, drowning her. 

It’s all overwhelming in the most unexpected way. He went through so much to make this happen, has been working on this for months, working to provide her the type of fantasy a woman can only dream of. The type of thing people read about in sappy romance books, all the while knowing the reality of anything similar ever happening being slim to none.

And, it’s that slim space that he’s found and made a reality. 

But, it’s only when Solana feels her babies kicking, both of them, that she realizes an answer is due.

The only answer she could ever give the man in front of her.

“Yes,” she breathes. The smallest hint of a smile on his handsome face tugs on her heartstrings even more. She cries harder. “Of course, yes.”

A million times over. In all the ways. In every universe. 

Solana watches as he removes her current ring—something she 100% plans to still keep—replacing it with the new, current one. She can only continue to stare in utter shock and disbelief at the stunning, unexpected ring sitting on her ring finger. Just like she can barely wait for him to be back on his feet to reach up, palming his face as she leans up to kiss him. Passionate. Intense. Love. 

So much love. 

Their eyes shut, foreheads touching as she moves his hands to her stomach to feel their girls moving around, as if also partaking in this unforgettable moment of love, promise, and future.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

—--------

"Where are we going?"

To be fair, the minute it comes out of her mouth, she already knows she's not about to receive an answer. Not a straight one anyway.

Roman lifts her hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, the corner of his mouth brushing against her new wedding ring. He follows this up with a simple, "you'll see." Roman lowers their now conjoined hands, maneuvering the steering wheel with his other hand, offering nothing else.

Solana is tempted to pry and try to extract something more than that, but she decides against it. Roman has been full of nothing but positive, beautiful, wonderful surprises since their reunion. 

Something tells her this will be no different. 

Instead, her attention travels to the emotional reunion she had just yesterday at the local community recreation center. 

The children.

The children from her reading club.

Of all the people to see and reveal her not being dead to, that had to be the hardest group. Such young, innocent lives forever changed. Mourning the loss of Mrs. Jensen, the kind librarian who lost her life for nothing. Mourning the loss of her. Except, one loss was permanent. Never to be changed.

It’s a type of loss and grief Solana knows she hasn’t really started to feel and process, but one that’s bound to come sooner or later.

However, while the kids were surprised, obviously emotional, they were mostly relieved. Happy. Filled with so much relief. She was tackled with so many hugs, so many questions especially about her stomach. About her pregnancy.

Something she included in her child-friendly explanation. 

“My husband and I had to make sure those bad people couldn’t hurt me or our babies.”

Not a lie. 

Not a lie at all. 

But, it’s also the overwhelming appreciation from the parents that took Solana by surprise. The indescribable appreciation and gratitude they extended her way.

“You saved my baby.”

She can’t count how many times she was told that and other variations. A truth she hadn’t really considered until then. She wasn’t thinking about how she was, in fact, saving the kids’ lives by pleading with Solo for mercy.

She was just doing what was right.

It’s a bittersweet thing, because while she was able to save the children, she couldn’t save the other lives lost. Innocent people just going to their local library.

Sami.

Bautista.

Two people who, though not knowing for long, she will miss greatly. They were good men who didn’t deserve the ending that found them. A sentiment she shares with her husband who has vowed that he’ll make sure their families are looked after and always taken care of. 

He’d already issued payment to cover the rest of Bautista’s daughter’s collegiate years along with six figure college funds for Sami’s children. Is funding his widow's move out of the city to be closer to family.

Kind, appreciated gestures that help but don’t fully the dull the ache and pain of grief.

Again, more processing Solana knows she’ll have to work through over the next few months.

Years, even.

And, she continues to think of the past, the present, and the near future up until the SUV comes to a stop. 

One glance out the window, and all she sees is….nothing.

Solana continues to look around confused as all the outdoors. Her confused expression remains as Roman rounds the SUV and opens the door for her, helping her step out.

"Ro…." He steps back only after making sure she's flat and stable on the ground, taking her hand in his once more. "What…."

Roman continues to remain silent, guiding them deeper into….nothing.

Nothing exists around them outside of the security detail, grass, and trees in the far off distance. Beautiful. She can acknowledge that much. The views of hills and forestry in the distance are a beautiful compliment to the sun that shines behind it, illuminating and highlighting it almost.

None of that, however, explains just why her husband has them in the middle of beautiful nowhere.

"What do you think?"

Solana looks over and up at him, the two finally stopped, a distance large enough between them and their security so that a conversation can be had privately, without listening ears.

"Umm…." It could possibly be one of the most confusing questions she's had presented to her in some time. "It's…..it's a beautiful view, and the grass is….really green."

The smallest smile falls on Roman's face prompting her to reciprocate it. She loves to see him smile.

Especially these days.

Roman lifts his sunglasses up, placing them atop his head as he makes a low sound. She watches him move to stand behind her, leaning down, holding her from behind, hands on her stomach. "It's almost 700 acres." Her eyes widen at that. It's even bigger than it looks, and that's saying something. "A couple miles away from the nearest other property." Solana's initial profound confusion diminishes ever so slightly at that last line, and she knows Roman must sense it. He holds her closer, pushing back strings of her hair. "More than enough room to build as big as you want."

Her head snaps to look at him, that recognition and realization slamming into her. "Ro…"

He gestures ahead, Solana following his line of vision. "Main house could be right there." He motions to the right. "Mother-in-law suite over there." Another gesture to the broad span of emptiness. "And then anything else we want."

"Roman…" Solana pouts, eyes watering as it all comes to her. As she sees exactly why they're here. Why he's taken her here. Sees the vision. Stepping away, their hands drop as she moves one of hers to her belly, eyes closing. She can see it. See Lina and Leya chasing Roman around the pool, eager and determined to finally "catch" him. Can hear the sounds of their happy laughter and the ding of the oven signifying lunch is ready. Can smell the delicious aroma of her abuela's cooking. Can feel the love that consumes her little family.

Her home.

It's why she turns around to look at him. "It's perfect."

That same small smile returns. "Yeah?"

Solana chuckles, walking back over and reaching up to cup his bearded face. "Yeah." She leans up to kiss him, lips lingering over his. "It's ours."

"Ours," he murmurs, hands on the sides of her stomach, pulling her to him. "When do you want to break ground?"

"Tomorrow." An easy answer. Solana moves her hands up his chest, explaining, "I know it won't be ready before the girls are here, but I at least want it ready for their first Christmas." A thought crosses her mind. “Wait, we have to sign paperwork though, right?”

He shakes his head, turning her around, leaning her back against him. “I already bought it.” She gasps. “I saw it while….while you were gone, and it just seemed right. But, I wanted to get your thoughts first—”

“It’s perfect.” She cuts him off, holding onto his forearms, eyes shutting from undeniable contentment. “And ours.”

He echoes her sentiments, kissing her cheek. “Ours.”

—----------

The minute Roman opens the door for her, and Solana steps out onto the field, she takes it all in. Imagines it. Imagines a time where the stadium is filled with cheering, yelling, excited bodies, all eager and fully immersed in the game. A game her husband once played.

And, then she looks up at Roman, sees how he also looks around, but he doesn't have to imagine. He can just remember. Relive, maybe.

Reliving his time in the stadium where he played football so many years ago. The stadium that they currently stand in.

Taking his hand in hers, Roman looks down, Solana offering a small smile.

He doesn't say anything, just leans over and kisses her forehead. Solana holds onto his arm as he walks them deeper into the gridiron, in the middle almost. And, it's not until she turns around that she realizes just how heavy their security detail is. Nine SUV's lined up back to back, armed men, some Bloodline, some Cartel, standing and watching. Always assessing.

Same as the man beside her.

"It's okay," she comforts, pressing a kiss against his arm.

He sighs, still not saying anything as he just continues to wait.

And watch.

Not even five minutes later, the familiar sound of cars. SUV's. Much like the entourage they traveled with. They come in from the opposite side of the stadium. Solana counts six of them.

And the fourth one is the one that they get out of.

She sees Cody first. Sees the way his gaze falls on them, falls on Roman. The same way she feels Roman tense next to her. Subtly, Solana caresses her fingers across his arm, a quiet gesture of continued comfort. Cody rounds the SUV and opens the side door, the first person to exit bringing a small smile on Solana's face.

Emma's too.

Solana can vaguely make out the sound of the little girl saying something, a big smile planted on her face as she makes a beeline towards where she stands with Roman. Already feeling him tense even more, Solana moves to stand in front of him, to prevent him from doing anything.

"Solana!" Emma cries out happily as she slams her little body against Solana's legs, hugging her.

"Hi, Emma," she greets, watching the little girl pull back, eyes wide, mouth ajar as she stares at her stomach.

At her baby bump.

"You're having a baby?"

Naturally, Solana's smile deepens. As does her pride. "I am." Eyes twinkling with playful curiosity, she asks, "you wanna know something else?" Emma nods rapidly, prompting Solana to giggle as she bends down to whisper in Emma's ear. "I'm having two babies."

Another loud gasp and a "really?"

Solana laughs, straightening up, rubbing her belly. "Yup."

It's only when Roman moves his hands to Solana, tugging her back beside him that she realizes Cody and Brandi have started to walk in their direction. Emma turns around and runs toward her parents, tugging on Brandi's shirt. "Mommy! Solana is having a baby! Two babies!"

Roman tenses once more beside her, Solana subtly brushing her arm against him. She knows he wasn't the most comfortable with this whole idea in the first place but especially because there's no way to hide her pregnancy anymore. Not to mention, her black one piece with gray cropped top does absolutely nothing to hide her pronounced baby bump.

But, Solana needed this. She needed to see Brandi and Emma, and while it definitely took a lot of convincing and pleading with her husband, he finally agreed. Reaching out to Cody who, surprisingly, agreed.

Solana wonders if Brandi and/or Emma wanted the same thing, too.

Brandi's gaze falls over to Solana as they step closer, close enough for her to reach over and pull Solana into a hug. Instantly and immediately, Solana feels it. The turmoil still brewing within the other woman. The trauma.

"It's okay," Solana whispers and holds her just a little tighter. "You're safe." The tiniest gasp leaves Brandi's mouth. Emotions she's clearly doing her best to keep at bay. For a variety of reasons but none more than the little girl with blue eyes who stands close to her dad, watching with curiosity the interaction between her mother and Solana.

Brandi clears her throat and backs away. She quickly wipes at her eyes and motions down. "I can't believe…." She trails off, the recognition settling in. "Does that mean you were—"

"Yes," Solana answers prematurely. She already knows the rest of it.

Brandi's expression grows solemn, prompting Solana to motion for her to step to the side with her.

Instantly, Solana feels Roman behind her, inching closer. "Sol—"

She turns around, eyes soft and pleading. "Please."

His jaw, much like his entire body, is tense. But, he meets her eyes, sees and feels the sincerity. The unspoken 'trust me.' And, he sighs, nodding. Approval.

She presses her lips together. Relieved. Thankful.

Solana and Brandi move to the side, Emma going to join them, staying close to her mom. Expected.

But, that leaves the two men alone, mere feet from each other. Both of them watch their wives quietly interact, Roman having to push away his irritation at seeing Brandi place a gentle hand atop Solana's belly.

"You know…." Cody's voice is the last thing Roman wants to hear right now. He's the last person Roman wants to see right now. "What they went through…." Roman turns a vicious glare onto the man he'd prefer to just put a bullet in and leave it at that. "They'll always be linked together."

The same way you and I are.

The unspoken, obvious ending neither man will ever be able to verbalize.

The same way Roman would rather be rotting in a grave somewhere than acknowledge the truth to Cody's statement.

But, he is right.

Solana, Brandi, and even the kid, shared something together. Experienced and survived something traumatic as fuck together. That means, the same way Cody and Roman, who also, in a convoluted manner, have a history cloaked in betrayal and trauma, will always be linked.

That doesn't mean Roman has to like or allow it to go beyond that.

"This is a one time thing." An announcement to Cody. Something he's yet to discuss with Solana. He understood why she wanted to see Brandi and Emma. Didn't like it, but made the arrangements. However, this shit can't happen again. "And, it doesn't change anything between us."

Regardless of the team up of sorts, even Roman learning more about the betrayal that resulted in the murder of his family, the role Rikishi played, it doesn't change what's happened. At the end of the day, there will always be a thick river of blood that separates him from the man across from him. That bleeds out whatever type of friendship that once existed between them.

That shit is dead.

"I have something for you!" Emma's happy voice shouts as she turns around and makes a beeline for the line SUV she's exited with her parents. Brandi turns around only for Cody to lift his hand, running after Emma, neither parent clearly wanting too much distance between themselves and their daughter.

Again, understandable.

With some newfound privacy, Solana takes advantage. "Brandi…." She turns around, expression expectant. "You haven't told him, have you?"

Just like that, her eyes shift. An abundance of something and then nothing. "What sense does it make?" Brandi looks away, discomfort palpable. "He's dead now."

Solana swallows. "Brandi—"

"He's dead, Solana." Her voice takes a dark, empty tone. "It's over."

Solana grows quiet. She sees it. God, she sees it. The pool of hurt and anger and fear and confusion, and every other emotion Brandi is clearly pushing away. Her lack of disclosure of the assault comes at no surprise to Solana. Neither does the other woman's overall disposition toward it. Indifference. An attempt to pretend like everything's okay.

When it's not.

It's very clearly not.

"When….when you're ready, and only then, just know that I'm here," Solana offers, voice just as gentle as her gaze. "I mean it."

Because while Brandi may not see or realize it now, at some point, she will need to talk. Or not even talk. Just be around someone who understands her. Understands her pain. Understands what it does to someone to be violated in the worst way possible. And sadly, Solana knows that all too well. It's a pain she wouldn't wish on anyone and why she's making herself available.

When Brandi is ready and needing support, she'll be there.

No matter what.

Brandi offers no verbal response, just nods and once again wipes at her eyes just as Emma runs back over.

"Merry Christmas!" She stands before Solana, a decorative bag not much bigger than her in her hands as she reaches it to the pregnant woman. "Well, late Christmas."

Solana gasps, a genuine smile on her face. "For me?"

Emma nods happily as Solana accepts the bag, moving to pull out the soft item covered in wrapping paper. A quiet gasp leaves Solana's mouth as she manages to place the card in between her thighs, Brandi catching the bag before it can fall onto the floor. "Oh my goodness…." There's a hint of awe in her voice both at the softness as well as the beautiful baby pink color of the knit blanket. "This is so beautiful!"

Emma's smile brightens as she looks up at her mom. "Mommy and I made it!" She sounds so proud, Solana's heart swelling at seeing her so happy. It's relieving, to say the least. "I hope you like pink."

"I love pink," Solana holds it up and hugs it, looking between mother and daughter. "Thank you." Such a kind, thoughtful gift from an equally kind little girl. Placing the blanket back in the bag, she moves closer to Emma. "I hope one day my little girls can be just as sweet and brave as you, Emma."

Emma's eyes light up once more, as she holds onto Brandi's leg, sharing with all the innocence of a young girl. "You're gonna be a super cool mommy."

This time, Brandi laughs along with Solana, the latter feeling tears brew in her eyes.

"I hope so, sweetie." Truly. "I hope so."

There's an unspoken reminder from the two men. An invisible countdown of sorts that's reached zero. That makes Solana to venture back over to Roman's side, and Brandi and Emma to move closer to Cody.

The conversation is brief, less emotional, largely due to the men before them. The tension between them is substantial. 

But when Emma asks the infamous question as to if/when she’ll see Solana again, the answer provided is something neither Roman—or Cody—seem to like.

“Yes.” It’s said with the most sincere smile. “You will.”

Solana knows she’ll have to figure all that out, and she will. Just not now.

A few more comments, well wishes, and a Happy New Year message are exchanged between the women, and Emma, before Cody quietly instructs them to head back to the cars.

It's only when Brandi and Emma's retreating forms are a good distance away that Cody directs his focus to Solana. "Solana…"

Naturally, Roman shoots his arm across and in front of his wife, sneering, "you don't get to fucking address her."

Cody's jaw twitches, something lingering in the back of his throat but set aside for what he's clearly intentional about saying. "I know my history with your husband must be something you're certainly aware of at this point." She says nothing, just moves her other hand to the small of Roman's back. Fingers gently scraping up and down. A calming, subtle gesture. "That it should come at no surprise to you that it took everything in me to agree to this. That the idea of being this close to the Tribal Chief and not putting a bullet in his head seems like the greatest missed opportunity."

At that, Solana has to actively grab Roman's arm, preventing her husband from lunging forward and carrying out an act she's sure he's dreamed about.

However, Cody remains unmoving. Undeterred. "But, the fact of the matter is that I'd be a hypocrite—"

"—you already fucking are—"

Cody ignores Roman's interjection. "Because I owe him." At that, both husband and wife still, never giving away just where they are to the man across from them, all the while still taken back by the unexpected statement. "And, I owe you."

"Because, my hatred for your husband can't and doesn't outweigh my knowing of the fact that if not for his resources, for his team, my story could have played out very differently." The most subtle yet visible softening of his expression. "I know what you did for my wife. For my daughter." Solana lifts her chin, mindful of her expression, though unable to ignore the emotion brewing. "You saved their lives, protected them, and that's a debt I can never truly repay."

Unexpected. It's such an unexpected thing to leave the mouth of the man who could, arguably, be her husband's biggest enemy.

She can practically feel the hate radiating off his big body.

Off both of them, really.

But, dimmed by that hate, with Cody, at least, is something else. Sincerity. He seems sincere with his words.

"You're wrong," she speaks for the first time. Roman never takes his eyes off Cody, however. "You can repay it, even though I don't see it as a debt or something that needs to be repaid. I saved your wife and protected your daughter, because that's who I am." Similar words said to Domingo. Words that she means with everything in her. Same for the next set that comes out. "But, if you see it as a debt, I'll hold you to that."

"Solana—"

"You want to settle that debt?" Solana moves past Roman's arm, feeling him reach for her hip as she approaches Cody with zero reservation. "I want your word that you will never lay a hand or bring any harm to my family or my husband." At that, there's visible shock from the man before her, and probably from the one behind her. "You hate Roman? That's fine. He hates you just as much, if not more. But, the same way he's not brought any harm to you or yours in years, I expect you to do the same. You stay the hell away from him. Now and until the end of time."

Truth be told, this was the last thing Solana expected to come out of this meeting. Her essentially threatening the leader of the Nightmare Factory. But, the opportunity to take advantage of what the man views as a debt is too great to pass up. If she can secure protection for her husband, for her future children, she'll do it every time.

His voice remains even. "That sounds a lot like a threat.”

"Your perception of my words is of no consequence to me." She shakes her head, nose turned up almost. "You can view it however you want. Just know that I have the Bloodline, the Cosa Nostra, and the Cartel behind me." Power. She has power. "And you know what I did to protect your family." Solana inches forward, head tilted, voice dangerously calm as she ominously asks, "so, what do you think I'd do to protect mine?"

Never ever would Solana do anything to directly hurt Brandi or Emma. Truth be told, she doesn't even want to see anything necessarily happen to Cody. But, she's not naive, either. She knows how this works. Knows that it's everyone for themselves, so she has to do what she has to do for hers.

Solana remains planted directly in front of him, gaze unwavering. Unbothered but aware of the fact that Roman stays close behind her, waiting and ready to move, if necessary.

Cody maintains her gaze, eventually nodding. "Alright." She remains still. "You have my word, Solana Reigns." Still unmoving. Waiting for it. "No harm will come to you or yours from me or mine."

Confirmation. Solana's response is simple. The bare minimum. "I plan to hold you to that."

And, she will.

Cody offers only a nod as he slowly steps back, a last glance toward Roman before turning to walk away.

Roman doesn’t look away. Not until the SUV's begin to drive off, one by one. It’s then she places her hand on his arm, as he takes a deep breath. “That was bold.”

“It was.” She won’t deny it. Won’t disagree whatsoever. “But, necessary.”

His jaw twitches, as he looks down. “Solana—”

“No one is ever going to come after our family again, Roman,” she vows. She means it with everything in her, too. “And, if they’re stupid enough to try….we’ll give them hell.”

Because, if there’s one thing this whole experience has taught and shown her, it’s that she’s not alone. 

They’re not alone.

And, they never will be again.

Solana takes his hand in hers, squeezing gently. “Let’s go home, baby.”

—--------

“Aye, the players have gotten too soft, I swear.” Santos sneers with all of the disgust, watching the game playing on the flat screen TV.

Dwayne lifts up his beer, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. Lil pussies can’t take a fucking hit anymore.”

“That’s cause they don’t let those boys play anymore,” Steve snorts, finishing his second—or third—beer of the night. “Everything’s a fucking penalty.”

“I’ve never understood the appeal of American football,” Matteo admits, also sipping his beer. 

“And, I’ve never understood the appeal of most male dominated sports,” Afia chimes, walking past and leaning over behind the sofa to kiss her husband on the cheek. “Though some do look mighty fine doing so.”

Matteo sits up. “Hey.” Afia’s laughter is heard as she walks down the hall, heading to the kitchen but not before motioning for Solana to follow her. 

Solana, situated on Roman’s lap, looks down at her husband. “Baby—”

“What the fuck was that?” Roman shouts at the TV, his expression of frustration chorused with the other men seated around their living room. “Are you fucking shitting me? How was that not holding?”

Solana giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” he responds, gaze focused more on the TV than anything. She yelps when he slaps her ass as she adjusts her dress before walking off. 

In the kitchen, Solana finds the majority of the women lounging in her kitchen, some sitting at the island, some preparing their second plate of food, some just casually chatting. 

It’s an expected group, as the rest of the party attendees, primarily the older folks including her abuela, Bayley’s parents, and her grandma in a separate part of the house, watching the kids. Mostly, Afia and Matteo’s boys, as well as Melina and Santos son. 

Sana preferred to stay with the women, where she currently sits atop Bayley’s lap.

She’s taken a strong liking to her, ever since their time spent in Isla Mujeres.

“It’s amazing how football seems to be the universal language of men.” Melina says with a sigh, gesturing to where the group have been glued to the TV since the game started a half hour ago. “Any other time, they’d be trying to kill each other.”

Bayley makes a sound from where she sits on the bar stool, Sana on her lap, headphones on, attention on the tablet in her hand. She’s in her own little world. “Give it time.”

Ava makes a sound of agreement. “Especially with Big Ears over there.”

“Hey.” Solana remains standing, hand rubbing her belly. “Be nice.”

“What?” Ava scowls, rolling her eyes. “I’m sorry, Solana, but you gotta admit those ears are big as hell. He looks like—what’s that Dwarf with the big ears?”

Mickie snorts, sipping on her wine. “The ears ain’t the only thing that’s big.”

Cam’s mouth drops. “Mickie, you gotta stop that.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Ava grimaces, walking over to grab the bottle of wine to refill her cup. 

“What? Did I lie?” Seeing the partially confused, partially intrigued expression on Stephanie’s face, Mickie leans over to whisper in her ear. 

When she pulls back, Stephanie’s mouth drops a bit, asking in her deep accent, “that big?”

Rhea looks like she’s about to vomit. “Disgusting!”

Solana covers her face, but spread fingers allowing her to see the smirk on Stephanie's face as she comments before sipping her beer. “I see why you’re pregnant.”

“You guys, stop it. That’s her husband,” Afia steps in, shaking her head before a smirk falls on her face. “Must run in the family.”

“Stop!” Solana shouts, eyes wide as laughter breaks out among the group, herself included as she shakes her head. “You guys are terrible.”

“Naw.” Mickie shakes her head, laughter settling into a small smile. “We’re family.” 

It’s an announcement that brings a comfortable silence over the spacious kitchen and women currently occupying the space. 

To say Solana was nervous about revealing her “dead but not dead” plot to some of the women around her would be an understatement. While recognizing the necessity of it for a myriad of reasons, it was still a difficult thing to do at the time and even more difficult to reveal as a non-truth.

Solana knew her friends would be mourning her death, mourning the tragic loss of her “life,” having to spend over a month in this headspace in believing her to no longer be among the living. 

So, sharing the truth, explaining the real story, was something she was not only nervous about but not looking forward to. She hated doing that to them. Necessary or not. 

But, a few days after being home, spending time with just her husband, Solana knew the longer she waited, the harder it would be. Her friends deserved the truth, and it’s a truth she delivered to them.

There were a lot of emotions. A lot of anger and confusion. Rightfully so. And, Solana accepted and handled it all, because again, it was deserved. 

But, it was after that dust settled, a new, strong emotion was present. 

Relief. 

They were relieved to know she was alive and even expressed understanding why Solana had to fake her murder. Recognized it was to protect her and her unborn children. 

And ultimately, they were just happy to have their friend back. 

To have their family. 

And, that’s why, on the last day of the year, at this New Years Eve party she planned and organized in only a couple of days, Solana will bring in the New Year surrounded by her loved ones. 

Her family.

“Enough of the sex talk.” Ava takes the lead to divert the conversation to something else, as she looks over at Solana. “Have you and Dumbo decided on names for the girls?”

Sounds of agreement and similar questions hit the ears of a smirking Solana. “Maybe.”

Melina scoffs, playfully shoving her, as she’s the closest. “Well?”

Shrugging, Solana answers truthfully. “We’re keeping their names a secret until they get here.” As expected, groans and grumbles, prompting her to clarify. “There’s….there’s a story there that makes how we picked them personal, so we just want to keep it between us….for now.” 

An agreed upon thing between the two of them, not to mention Roman and Solana having zero desire to explain that they’d both had dreams or visions of the girls before they even came to be. That’s such a special, intimate thing that both would like to keep between them.

Including the girls' names.

As she said, for now.

“I get that,” Afia offers an olive branch. “Plus, really, it’s no one’s business except you and him.”

“True,” Mickie makes a face. “But, we’re also nosy.” 

“Not your uterus,” Rhea chimes, lifting her drink. “Not your business.”

Solana smiles. Though Rhea, and even Stephanie, are new additions to the group, they blend seamlessly. And, to Rhea, Solana owes so much. She was a part of the team that helped rescue her. She didn’t have to. She didn’t even know Solana, but she did, and for that, Solana is immensely grateful.

Stephanie nods, looking over at the other woman. “I like her.” 

Bayley chuckles. “Of course, you do.” She looks down at Sana who continues to play on her tablet, comfortable and oblivious. “But, they are right. You can tell us when you’re ready, prima. Or, ya know, at the baby shower.”

At that, Solana frowns a bit. “Baby shower?”

Afia looks over at her sister-in-law. “You didn’t think we weren’t going to throw you a baby shower for your first pregnancy, did you?”

Solana opens her mouth only to close it before admitting. “I guess….I didn’t think about it.” She truly hadn’t. With everything that’s happened the past few months, it never even occurred to her that that is also something that should happen. “But, you guys really don’t have to—”

“Too late,” Melina speaks up, sharing. “We already put down the deposit on the venue this past Monday.” 

Solana continues to be taken back. “That quickly?” Part of her surprise is also at the fact that despite only knowing about her still being alive for a matter of days, the group has fallen right back into their sense of normalcy. 

It’s appreciated. 

More than they could ever know.

“But, don’t bring Roman,” Ava adds, nose turned up in disgust. “Leave his ass here.” 

Rhea looks confused. “Isn’t he the father?”

Stephanie also speaks up, just as confused. “And her husband?”

Ava, however, shrugs. “And?” She quickly provides what Solana can consider to be a valid point. “He hates people and social interactions anyway.”

They’re not entirely wrong, and Solana had only briefly discussed a baby shower with her husband, but that was before. Before…..everything.

She’s not too sure where he would stand on it now, though a part of her wonders if it being planned for them (her) would change anything. 

“He agreed to this.” Cam offers another valid point. 

“Yeah, because she probably promised to sit on his face once we all leave.”

“Mickie!”

Melina pinches the bridge of her nose. “I swear to God, they should have never taken you off that damn Lithium.” 

Solana shakes her head right as another subject change commences. “You girls are all way too focused on the wrong things.” Afia once again looks over at her sister-in-law. “Are we just not going to discuss that gorgeous ring on her finger?”

Solana is blushing once more, looking at her….engagement ring? Wedding ring? She’s not sure just what to call it considering she’s already legally married. She just knows that Afia is 100% correct.

It’s gorgeous.

“Do you have any idea how rare and expensive pink diamonds are?” Bayley asks, her question more rhetorical than anything. “That man may hate everyone else, but he certainly loves you.”

Admiring her ring, Solana is immediately taken back to the most unexpected, yet beautiful night of her life. Roman proposing to her. Giving her something she never got to experience. Giving her a choice.

Though that last part feels a bit unnecessary.

In any circumstance, in any life, in any universe, she’ll always choose him. 

Every single time. 

“Clearly,” Rhea chuckles and asks. “Have you two picked a date?”

At that, Solana’s smile deepens. “Valentine’s Day.” 

It’s actually a date, surprisingly enough, he suggested. Roman shared that he’d discussed with Ava and Fetu, before the latter’s passing, proposing to her on Christmas and them having another wedding on Valentine’s Day. The dates primarily being Fetu’s suggestion.

He told her Fetu thought it would be romantic and a way for them both to experience some of the holidays after spending years not doing so.

Solana couldn’t agree more.

Melina’s smile deepens. “Really?” 

Solana nods. “And you’re all invited.” It should be obvious, but in the event it isn’t, she wants to make it clear. “It will be in Isla Mujeres though, so just clear your schedules.”

Because Solana can’t imagine a better place to once again commit herself to her better half than in the place where so many memories have been made. 

And, there’s so many more to come.

—-------

"Wait," Mickie takes another quick gulp of her drink, before looking around the room. "Am I really the only one who's done the math?"

Nearing closer to midnight, the group has all transitioned back to the living room, everyone coupled up, with the exception of the non-couples. The older folks remaining in the separate room, some of the kids laid to bed in some of the guest rooms.

That last part was definitely a hard sell for Solana when she first brought up the idea of a New Year’s Eve party to her husband. The fact that some folks might end up spending the night, due to how late it would be. 

He was….less than pleased.

Melina rolls her eyes from where she sits on Santos lap. "What math, Mickie?"

Solana is partially confused on just how they got on the topic of her pregnancy once more, but she’s at least willing to see where it goes.

Even if something tells her it won’t be….the best. 

Mickie downs the rest of her drink, stumbling over to stand in the middle of the living room. She’s definitely one of the ones who will be sleeping off her hangover shortly after the clock strikes midnight. "Our collective goddaughters are due sometime in May, correct?" A few head nods from the group. "That means they were conceived sometime in August, and guess where we—" She motions to herself, Cam, Melina, and Solana. "—were in August?" 

It’s an answer most know, and for those who don’t, Solana doesn’t really care either way. Because everyone sitting around her has proven their loyalty and ability to be trustworthy. A bittersweet thing, because the absence of Jimmy and Naomi is noticeable. And, she hates it. 

Hates that they’re not there.

Hates where they are right now. 

She can only pray this time next year, things will be different.

Hopefully.

“Wait a minute.” Afia sits up, looking over at Solana. “Did you….” She trails off, clearly not wanting to necessarily give away the specifics given the presence of the latest additions.

If only Dwayne felt the same.

“Yeah, they were fucking while she was away at treatment.”

“Dawyne.” Roman shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Guys.” Solana’s eyes widen in horror. She’s certain her cheeks must be flushed red. 

“A lot, too,” Mickie adds, making a face. “We could hear them.”

“Can we please change the subject?” Solana begs, hand over her face. 

“Or, ya’ll can all just get the hell out of my house.” Roman suggests. He sounds dead serious, too. She sighs loudly. Of course. “That’s an option, too.”

“I mean, sex is a natural thing,” Rhea shrugs, sitting on the loveseat with Stephanie. “Fucking is fun.”

Steve, however, starts coughing a bit. “Christ, Rhea.” He shakes his head, waving his hand. “Have some fuckin’ decency for your old man, kid.”

Hearing such differing accents, Stephanie sits forward, motioning between the two. “How are you two—”

“It’s a long story,” Rhea dismisses. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Solana would also love to learn that backstory. 

As the clock ticks on, nearing closer and closer, the groups unite, largely due to the true party nature the event takes on. A specifically curated playlist blasting a collective genre of tunes. R&B. Pop. Dance. Spanish. A perfect mixture, boasting some of the best songs, perfect and most fitting for the occasion. 

Happily, the gang mingles and dances, with the exception of a few folks, Roman and Matteo included. 

Though, Solana finds her heart swelling seeing those two interact. She’d briefly spoken with Afia about what she knew of their mother’s unexpected return, and it seemed Matteo was just as tight lipped as his brother.

It’s something, however, the women are not going to let go. They’ll be there for their husbands in any way they need and face whatever their mother re-entering their lives brings about. 

Together.

Solana’s smile is stapled as she dances playfully, sometimes sultry. The latter often earns her being pulled into her husband as he so eloquently reminds her just how she got pregnant in the first place.

But, when the music shifts to one of her favorite Celine Dion tunes, That’s The Way It Is, Solana becomes more aware of the time. It’s only a couple minutes until midnight, and for what feels like the twentieth time tonight, that familiar pressure on her bladder is begging to be tended to.

Solana breaks away, shuffling past her husband, heels long gone at that point. “I have to use the bathroom.”

He frowns. “Again?”

She rolls her eyes. “Not my fault that your daughters are sitting on my bladder.”

He says nothing, just moves his hand to her stomach. Her grin is small. It seems that’s become his favorite hand placement these days.

She leans up and kisses his cheek. “Be right back.”

Solana makes her way to one of the bathrooms on the first floor. 

There's something insanely relieving about removing that weight off her bladder, even if she knows it's bound to return within the hour, maybe two, if she's lucky. Regardless, it grants her some semblance of relief, and she'll take it all.

Solana flushes the toilet and moves over to the sink, squeezing out the strawberry shortcake scented hand soap into her palm. Hitting the knob with her wrist, she garners just enough water to build up a good lather. Washing her hands while humming along to the music that makes it through even the thick door, she turns off the water and reaches for the hand towel on the bar to the right of her.

Briefly, Solana's gaze falls onto herself in the mirror, and she freezes.

Time stands still, it seems, as she takes in her reflection.

Really looks at herself. Seeing herself for the first time in a long time. If ever.

Seeing not scars and flaws or the reflection of someone broken, damaged, unworthy of love and adoration.

She doesn't see that same 10 year-old girl who woke up one morning with hopes and plans for a brand new, brighter future only to wake up in a hospital and find not only was that future forever gone, but the one person who meant the most to her at the time was also gone.

She doesn't see the 12 year-old girl who wasn't even old enough to have had the talk about what sex is but had already been violated in the most unholy of ways, her innocence ripped away from her by pure evil.

She doesn't see the 16 year-old girl who'd grown too exhausted, felt far too heavy to continue to go on, to continue to live. Who'd ultimately made the decision to try to end her own life.

She doesn't see the 28 year-old thrust into an impossible situation, believing her only options were either kill or be killed, the latter of which, seeming more of a relief than anything.

She doesn't even see the 29 year-old woman who just months ago regressed so deeply that she'd once again tried to kill herself, because she felt the damage was too heavy, and life for everyone around her would be easier if she no longer existed.

She doesn't see any of that.

She doesn't feel any of that.

Solana sees a woman. A beautiful, strong, courageous woman who still has her struggles, will always have to battle her vices, but whose good far outweighs the bad. She sees a woman in love with a man who means more to her than words can describe. She sees a wife, a sister, a friend, a cousin.

A mother.

For the first time, Solana sees her.

When you're ready to go and your heart's left in doubt.

The woman her mother always said she would become.

Don't give up on your faith

Tears build in her eyes as she lifts one hand to her clavicle, ghosting her fingertips over the inked tattoo representing her better half. Her person. Her soulmate.

Love comes to those who believe it

Her other hand settles on her belly, the safe space where her girls grow stronger and bigger with each day that passes, preparing for their grand arrival into the world.

Her eyes shut.

"I did it, mommy," she murmurs, lifting her watery gaze to the ceiling with an emotional smile. "I got my happy ending."

And that's the way it is.

The sound of voices rising from where the bulk of the guests remain remind Solana of the countdown. Sniffling and shaking her head, her smile remains as she goes to open the door, hitting the light switch as she walks out.

A tiny gasp leaves her mouth, a brief pang of tension rising when she's grabbed, only for it to settle at the familiar set of hands grasping and gently spinning her so that she's backed against the wall.

Solana's smile widens as she looks up at her husband. "Hi."

Roman chuckles, as he stands before her, one hand going to cup her cheek, the other on her hip. "Hi."

"Ten!"

"Did I take too long?"

"Nine!"

He makes a sound, gaze softening. "You know I'd wait for you forever."

"Eight!"

Her smile deepens as she reaches up, wrapping her arms around him, her baby bump pressed against his stomach. "Good thing you don't have to."

"Seven!"

His eyes briefly dip to her belly. "Everything good?"

"Six!"

"No," she answers, softly. Naturally, his expression shifts to something close to concern. "It's perfect."

"Five!"

Roman's smile is small but oh-so-telling. He starts to dip his head towards hers when movement between them, felt by both, makes him pause. Naturally, Solana giggles, the two of them looking down.

"Four!"

"I'm telling you, it's Lina." His hand moves to her belly, feeling around to where one of their girls just kicked. She knows it's only one, because she's felt when it's both of them. Big difference. "She's gonna be active just like her daddy."

"Three."

At that, his smile deepens just a bit, his eyes flitting up to hers. "I love you."

"Two."

It doesn't seem to matter just how many times he says it. How many times she hears it. It never gets old.

Solana reaches behind his neck, lowering him so that their lips are only inches apart, his icy breath cool against her face.

"One!"

"I love you, too."

"Happy New Year!"

Fanfare and celebration from down the hall as the husband and wife celebrate privately, lips dancing in that sensual song of promise and oath. A declaration of love, now and forever.

Voy a reír

Voy a bailar

Vivir mi vida

Solana gasps and smiles against his mouth, hearing the familiar lyrics of another of her favorite tunes. "I love this song."

"Baby, you say that about every song."

Solana, rightfully, ignores him, stepping back and taking him by the hand. "Come on."

In true Roman nature, he protests. "I think I like it over here."

Again, he is ignored as she drags him back into the living room where the rest of the attendees celebrate. Old with young. Young with old. The children havinh awoken to bring in the new year with their parents and relatives.

Her abuela pulls her into a hug. Maternal and warm. Kissing her on the cheek and feeling on her stomach. 

Several hugs and various forms of acknowledgement. The affection and joy permeating the space, Solana filled with so much love and appreciation.

Happiness.

She feels happy.

Her smile remains stamped on her face as she moves back over to Roman who leans against the wall, watching her the entire time. Humming to the music, she moves her arms up his chest, swaying against him. 

Roman looks down at her, sensing her joy. “What is he saying?”

She smiles. He’s referring to the lyrics. 

Voy a reír

“I’m gonna laugh,” she translates. 

Voy a gozar, Vivir mi vida

Truer joy, peace, and gratitude have never existed nor been felt than in this moment. Unbreakable and unshakable peace as she shares what she feels and doesn’t plan to deter from ever again. 

Ever.

“I’m going to enjoy living my life.”

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

authors note: i sincerely and legitimately can't believe we've reached the end of book 1. i won't bore you all with my rambling. just wanna say thank you immensely to every single person who's read, liked, commented, and/or reblogged this story. it's been such a ride, and i'm so thankful for all the support and everyone who stuck it out with me to get to this point. 🥺

the proposal scene was never included in the original outline, but i've just been so thankful and grateful for all the support you all have shown my little story that i wanted to say thank you. also can't wait for ya'll to see her wedding dress that i've deadass had picked out for months lmao

possibly considering a oneshot/to show their love scene upon solana returning home, as it just didn't make the cut for this already long ass final chapter.

lastly, if you haven't heard already, there will be a sequel, book 2. first chapter should be out in a couple of weeks.

muchas gracias, amigas. ❤️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Give and Take 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Steve Rogers

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Steve and Charity

Summary: the women's shelter harbours a particularly suspicious character.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey, Steve,” Leanne greets him as the door blows shut behind him. The unusually windy day has him out of sorts. “Breezy out, huh?”  

“Yeah,” he does his best to tidy his hair. So much for that new pomade. He straightens the lapels of his jacket his tie swept over his shoulder. “Sorry, I’m late.”  

“Right on time.” She assures him.  

The door opens and blows back on its hinges. Steve turns as a flurry gusts in around the figure. Charity trips through and barely saves the box in her arms from overturning. Steve is quick to steady it, his skin tingling as he touches her tweed sleeves. She smiles at him with a thanks.  

“I’ve got some surprises,” she announces over his head, “it’s why I’m behind.” 

She’s breathless. He is too. He stays close. Do something, Rogers. She’s right there. 

“Can I help?” He asks. 

She bats her eyes at him and her full cheeks get rounder, “sure can. You're such a doll.” 

She hands him the box and he takes it without falter. It’s heavy but he won’t let her see that. He peeks at the hastily closed flaps, he can see something peeking in the small space between the cardboard. 

“There’s more in my car,” she says. “Lea, you mind if I leave my bag with you while I get the stuff?” 

“Sure thing,” the receptionist replies. 

Everyone likes Charity. She’s a bright spot even when times are tough. At the shelter, almost every day is rough. Of course, they don’t have to be there but they choose to be. Those who come seeking help don’t have that choice. 

Steve watches her swirl out and stares dumbly after her. Her beret is crooked, the bow of her blouse is half out over her jacket, and her pleated skirt catches the wind dangerous. Her full calves and the bottom of her thighs peek out at him with the rise in her hem. 

“What’s in it, then?” Leanne asks. 

Steve turns and clears his throat. He comes forward and leans the box on the corner of the desk. He squints as he pulls back a flap. He hums as he reaches in. 

“Tampons,” he takes a package out. 

Leanne laughs. Steve is slightly embarrassed but why should he be? Women need those things and that’s what they do here. Give women what they need. 

Charity returns again. She has a whole wagon of boxes behind her. She bounces in proudly. 

“Forgot I still had this thing in my car,” she beams. 

“I could’ve helped,” Steve snaps out of his daze and shoves the package back in the box. 

“Oh, no, all good.” 

“Where’d you get all this?” Leanne wonders as she taps the box with her pen. 

“Work! We did a promotional deal with a pharmacy and I was talking to the local owner. He donated all this back stock.” She explains bright, “just took a bit of convincing!” 

Steve hesitates. He could be convinced to give her anything. Still, the suggestion makes him uneasy. What did she do? 

“We can do some care boxes,” she declares. “I got some stuff to put it all in too.” 

“Oh, right, well, everyone else is serving dinner,” Leanne clucks. 

“I can help,” Steve offers. 

“Sure,” Charity agrees. “Is the back room free?” 

“Yeah, movie night’s in the rec room so just don’t go in there.” Leanne girds. 

Charity goes to drag the wagon forward but Steve blocks her. He sets the box of tampons on top. 

“Let me,” he insists. 

“Oh, Steve, thanks.” 

She remembers his name! His hand grazes hers as he takes the handle and she brushes by him. Her perfume, a discount brand that smells like cherry, wafts from her. He follows her through the heavy door she unlocks with the code and down the hall. 

They get everything into the backroom, slightly crowded by the shelves of toilet paper and cleaner. She tuts and looks around. “Hope you don’t mind working on the floor.” She’s happy enough to get down on her knees as she takes a box from the wagon. “I got some zip-up pouches. That way they can keep using them after.” 

She takes out one of the floral plastic pouches. He wonders if this was actually all given to her. He’d give her most anything but would a corporate shill really succumb to her so easy? 

He starts moving the boxes off the wagon then folds it up out of the way. He kneels down with her, padding him knees on his coat. He’s too boney to be on the floor. 

“Thank you for helping,” she says. “So, tampons, pads, lip balm, vaseline, lotion, body and face, soap, shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste,” she goes down a pretty extensive list as she packs the first kit. “And I even got some chocolate truffles as a treat!” 

“Wow, that’s quite a haul,” he says and takes a striped pouch. 

“Oh, and there’s kids’ stuff especially for the youngins,” she says, “they get a puppy or kitten keychain too.” 

“So you... what do you do for work?” He asks, even though he knows. 

“I do communications. Mostly promotional events and all that.” She shifts onto her butt. Her hips look even wider as her skirt fans around her bent legs. “Boring. I’d love to work here full-time but a girls’ gotta pay the rent.” 

“Right,” he nods thoughtfully as he takes a tub of lip balm. 

“And you...?” She peeks up at him, “oh don’t forget, there’s little slots to tuck the small stuff.” She shows him the inside of a pouch. 

“Um, if you think your work is boring, mine’s... dull. Museum. I do tours mostly.” He answers.  

He likes his job but he’s used to people teasing. Well, he gets to look at art and cool relics and talk about it whenever someone happens by. He likes the renaissance ones with the fuller figures, they remind him of her. 

“No way! That’s so cool. Do you have anything about Letizia Borgia? I read an article the other day.” 

“Some, mostly artists but we have some papal stuff too,” his pulse evens out a bit. It’s easy to talk about his expertise. 

“And the Medicis?” She wonders. 

“I thought you were in communications,” he teases. 

She laughs and it blooms in his cheeks like fire. “Between everything, I do find some time for hobbies. Though I might lose a bit of sleep.” 

He chuckles, a little more tension slaking away. This isn’t as scary as he imagined. He’ll have something to report to the discord at least. 

 “Ha, yeah, tell me about it,” he grins. 

[splitfictionthings]

You're... Not A Centipede

It was... weird, picturing Zoe's parents as not a conjoined Centipede.

Ok that's a weird sentence but still. During their time in Zoe's subconscious, they'd spent a lot of time with the parent-ipede, and consequently, Mio had kind of formed an idea in her mind about Zoe's parents.

And attached it to the depiction she'd seen - you know. The centipede.

Oh she'd seen Zoe's parents since - in video calls. But there is nothing quite like landing in England and seeing Zoe throw herself into two people's arms and still catching yourself looking around for a double-headed fucking centipede.

"This must be Mio, right?" Charlie smiled, one hand still wrapped around his daughter's shoulder as he reached forward with the other one.

"Um... yeah." She shook the offered hand weakly. "Charlie, yeah?"

"Yes, and this is my wife Leanne."

"A pleasure," Leanne grinned, a slight dimple in her cheek not dissimilar to Zoe's. "We've heard so much about you!"

"Whatever you heard I didn't do it."

Charlie laughed, loud and booming, while Zoe slapped Mio's shoulder.

"Only good things!" She insisted, and Mio elbowed her back.

"You do over exaggerate sometimes."

"Oi!"

"Now, now," Leanne interrupted, "You'll have plenty of time for bickering once we're out of the airport."

They certainly had. Bickering was the foundation of their relationship after all, even if it was all in good fun. Zoe had even seamlessly resumed their previous bickering after waking Mio up, because of course she fell asleep in the car on the way to Zoe's parents house ON Zoe's shoulder. Honestly what was Mio's life if not a collection of embarrassing moments that make her want to walk off a cliff?

Zoe, much to her credit, mentioned nothing about the patch of drool on her t shirt, simply jumping straight back into bullying her about her reaction to the baby dragons (which was justified). The mood in the car was more solemn, which Mio later found out was because Zoe was recounting their misadventure with Rader while she was asleep, but they easily brought it right back up, slapping each other's hands until they couldn't anymore from laughter.

Zoe's house (not the one they saw in the simulation - but still a nice house located near the Peak District) wasn't massive, but had enough space for Mio to have her own room. Sure it wasn't decorated like Zoe's childhood bedroom was, being designed for any guest who might ever stay, but the bed was comfy and there was space for her clothes and a desk for writing and what else could she need? It was just strange being that far away from Zoe, after a whole day in each others brains and 6 months hearing each other sleep through paper thin walls. But what was weirder was hearing two voices downstairs, almost identical to that centipede, and having to remind herself that they are real legit humans.

The first few days were weird. The silence surrounding the house was eerie, the walls so thick Mio couldn't hear anyone unless they were being really loud or on the same level. The bed was both too big and too soft - she couldn't feel the springs like she could on her own mattress, and it smelled too clean. She awoke to birds chirping instead of engine rumbles, and the nights were so much darker than the city.

Zoe seemed utterly refreshed - eyes brighter and smile easier than Mio had ever seen. She often found herself wondering if her dad would have fared better here, in the clean air and peace, but Zoe would quickly drag her out of her thoughts with some kind of mischief. A waterfall walk, or a hike for a picnic. At some point they even climbed a large hill, Mio complaining the whole way but admittedly breathtaken once they reached the top (literally and figuratively). It almost made up for her passing out halfway down and having to eat an emergency banana to feel more alive again.

After a week or so, Mio also got used to it. She saw the stars (prettier than she thought, though she wouldn't admit it to Zoe), watched squirrels dash around in the front garden and eat peanuts from her palm, and even went for a swim in the lake nearby with Zoe. Charlie and Leanne would accompany them, and sometimes Zoe's nieces and nephews, running around and squealing underfoot.

But nothing is ever truly perfect.

Mio knew that perfectly well - but slamming up from her sheets, struggling to breathe and struggling to discern reality from illusion, she wasn't exactly thinking straight. A strangled scream tore itself from her throat without her even knowing, sweat slicked hands clawing at her throat.

Before she could even blink the door slammed open, Zoe tumbling into the room with none of her usual grace. Her hair was a mess, knotted and tangled, and her pajamas sat skewiff on her body. She looked wildly around the room, as if scanning for threats, before she dashed to Mio's side, hands cradling her face tentatively.

"I can't breathe!" Mio eventually choked out, "I don't - Rader-"

"Rotting in jail, waiting for his trial" Zoe's voice cracked a little, her throat clearly dry from sleep, but she still sounded as assertive as ever. One hand slipped down to her neck, her thumb stroking in rhythmic motions. "You can breathe. Just follow me. In and out."

It took a minute or so before Mio's wheezing faded to more stable rhythms, the motion of Zoe's thumb against her throat enough to follow. She slumped forward, forehead resting on Zoe's shoulder.

"Did I wake you?" She asked, her voice hoarse. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Zoe shook her head, "I wouldn't want you to go through that alone."

"I've done it before."

"I know."

They stayed like that for a while, Mio's head on Zoe's shoulder while Zoe's hand carded through her hair. It was a familiar pose - on both sides. Nightmares weren't rare in their apartment, unfortunately.

A tentative knock came at the door, before it gently creaked open. Leanne quietly walked in, two steaming mugs in her hand that she placed on the bedside. She crouched by the bed, wincing slightly but looking at them in concern.

"You don't have to explain," she offered gently, "I just want to check you're ok."

Mio nodded, too tired to speak, and Leanne smiled. One hand reached out, wiping the dampness on her cheeks before resting on her forehead. Pursing her lips at what must be some warmth, Leanne opened the window, letting the cool night air in.

"Let me know if you need anything," she whispered, leaning her forehead against Zoe's for a moment before she appeared to head downstairs.

"Did I wake everyone?" Mio's voice was barely audible.

"It's not your fault," Zoe said firmly, grabbing one of the mugs, "Now drink up, buttercup. It'll make you feel better."

It did. The tea was warm, soothing her sore throat like a balm, and settling warm in her stomach. She stayed pressed to Zoe the whole time, who never let her go.

"I don't think I want to be alone right now." She whispered after draining the cup. Zoe didn't answer, simply shuffling down the bed and clumsily pulling the covers over them both.

"You don't have to -"

"Shut up." Zoe sighed, readjusting them so they were laying comfortably. They were facing each other, one of Zoe's hands pushing Mio's head into her shoulder and the other wrapped around her waist. Mio slipped her own arms around Zoe too, holding her loosely. "I've got you, Mio. Sleep well."

They fell asleep like that, tangled up in each other like they were afraid to lose them. And Mio woke up in a similar way, her head on Zoe's chest and body practically draped over hers. They were warm, comfy, the weight of the covers almost blissfully crushing. Even the thought of moving from the bed, from Zoe, felt like it could be world ending. So she stayed put, dozing until Zoe blinked herself into existence.

"Morning, Mio." She yawned, Mio grunting in return. "You ok?"

" 'm fine." Mio mumbled, "Warm."

"You talk in your sleep."

"..." Mio sat up, bleary-eyed. "Do I?"

"I'm fairly sure you ordered a McDonalds breakfast from me before I dropped off."

"Oh." She was dumbfounded. "Where is it then?"

"Oh I'm sorry, just let me pull one out of my ass for you." Zoe laughed, tugging her back down and ruffling her hair fiercely.

"Hey! Get off!"

"Nope."

Mio screeched as one hand wriggled it's way under her top, squeezing her sides with brutal efficiency. "OK! OK! Stop!"

"I win." Zoe grinned, climbing out of bed and leaving Mio there to catch her breath. "Get dressed, Giggleguts. Breakfast won't be long."

"I still think your parents are a centipede sometimes." She admitted on a whim.

"... Is that why you sometimes look surprised when you see them?"

"..." Mio looked away, folding her arms. "...Maybe."

Zoe's laugh sounded like it tore out of her body, leaving her breathless. Mio frowned, ready to defend herself, but when the first snorts started she couldn't help but shake her own head with a grin.

"Glad you're having fun." She sighed.

"I'm gonna tell them," Zoe wheezed, lunging for the stairs.

"NO! DON'T YOU DARE!"

[justabigassnerd]

traitors 3x07 thoughts yeet

Freddie cartwheeling in the corridor my KINGGGG

FOZIA NO MY LINDA HATING QUEEN WE LOST A REAL ONE

‘Linda get a good nights sleep because you’re going next’ FOZIA MY ICON

this mission was kinda cool, reminded me of Diane’s death in a way but Alexander floating in a coffin in the lake won’t fail to get me cackling frfr

also Alexander running with his arms out like he was a little plane 🥹 I love one diplomatic king

ALEXANDER GET BEHIND ME I’LL PROTECT YOU 🤺🤺🤺

okay but fr why was Leanne being SO precious about being accused like yeah okay Alexander was wrong but everyone’s bound to be accused at some point and he wasn’t being rude like she was taking it way too much to heart (to quote my dad ‘she probably had that same shitty attitude in the army’)

THANK FUCK LINDA IS GONE NEVER CHEERED LOUDER IN MY LIFE

very curious as to whether Charlotte will accept the offer or just be murdered. personally I would’ve gone for someone like Jake bc he’s kinda cemented himself as a faithful for going for Linda since day dot (something a traitor wouldn’t do once finding out their fellow traitors identity) obviously idk how he’d do under that pressure but to me someone like him seemed like a good idea

if Charlotte does accept the offer I do wonder who they’ll kill (if it’s Alexander or Freddie it’s on SIGHT)

[yourladyem]

Beetlejuice Loves Lydia

Spotify Playlist

He hacked her phone again and created a playlist. No matter what she does a love song goes off every day.

MacArthur Park by Richard Harris

Right Here Waiting for You by Richard Marx

Everything I Do I Do it For You by Bryan Adams

Heaven by Bryan Adams

Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen

Hard to Say I'm Sorry by Chicago

I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston

How Am I Supposed to Live Thought You by Michael Bolton

When a Man Loves a Woman by Michael Bolton

Stuck on You by Lionel Richie

Listen to Your Heart by Roxette

Glory of Love by Peter Cetera

Can't Help Falling with You by Elvis

Love Me Tender by Elvis

Every Breath You Take by The Police

Don't Give Up on Us by David Soul

Against All Odds by Genesis

You're the Inspiration by Chicago

Waterloo by ABBA

Take a Chance on Me by ABBA

Lady in Red by Chris de Burgh

Grenade by Bruno Mars

Bad Romance by Lady Gaga

A Thousand Years by Christina Perri or James Arthur

It Had to Be You by Harry Connick Jr

Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers

My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion

I Put a Spell on You by Annie Lennox

You Make My Dreams Come True by Hall and Oats

Make You Feel My Love by Adele

Uptown Girl by Billy Joel

Just the Way You Are by Bill Joel

Marry You by Bruno Mars

Crazy for This Girl by Evan and Jaron

Here We Go Again by Ray Charles and Norah Jones

Could I Have This Dance by Anne Murray

Your Song by Elton John

Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen

Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede

On the Street Where You Live from My Fair Lady

I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face from My Fair Lady

Storybook Love by Mark Knopfler

That's Amore by Dean Martin

Innamorata by Dean Martin

Something About the Way You Look Tonight by Elton John

Our Love is Here to Stay by Frank Sinatra

As Time Goes By by Jimmy Durante

Moonlight Serenade by Carly Simon

I Just Called to Say I Love You by Stevie Wonder

Crazy by Patsy Cline

I'll Have to Say I Love You in a Song by Jim Croce

Annie's Song by John Denver

Fascination by Nat King Cole

Unforgettable by Nat King Cole

Stardust by Nat King Cole

They Can't Take That Away From Me by Fred Astaire

The Way You Look Tonight by Fred Astaire

You Light Up My Life by LeAnn Rimes

I Can't Stop Loving You by Ray Charles

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You by Frankie Valli

At Last by Etta James

Call Me Irresponsible by Michael Buble

I'm Your Man by Michael Buble

My Girl by The Temptations

[white-spectre]

Non show watcher, Im confused, all these vague posts about an ending of th season. I know the show has changed alot alot, but did they hve siuan die durng the lanfear moraine disappearance? Because thatll be a big departure if they exclude the stilling plot. I guess since they made them active lesbians, from what ive heard, they may give the stilling/garreth bryne subplot to a different character. sorry if im misunderstanding, just the posts have been pretty vague on what actually happened just people have strong feelings apparently

Hello! Sorry for vague-blogging, I think people were trying to not spoil the ending in case anyone didn't have a chance to watch it yet but it's been a few days so I'm sure the cat is out of the bag for most people that follow the series. (this ended up being longer than I anticipated but I do love to yap and this is one of my obsessions right now!)

Anyway, to answer you question, the show ended up killing off Siuan immediately following Elaida's Tower coup. This stirred up a lot of emotions for some people and there's been some people saying that now the show should be cancelled, or the show is playing into the "kill the gays" trope, or that they are just killing off POC characters etc etc... There is definitely a less positive vibe from Tumblr after the season 3 finale than before, but I will give you my thoughts on why I thought it was a good season finale, and you can parse them as you will.

It is definitely a big departure from the books, as you said, but it seems that they are setting up at least part of Siuan's post-stilling storyline to be continued on by Leanne (it was unclear in the season finale if she was actually stilled or just shielded, but it's fairly certain that she survived). The Gareth Brynne relationship would fit in well with Leanne's post-stilling storyline from the book series, as she became more interested in men and (if I'm remembering right) ended up choosing Green as her second ajah later on. I think it would add a really good martyr aspect to the rebel Aes Sedai/Salidar crew, and having Leanne be the rallying point would fit well.

Also the writing REALLY amped up the Moiraine/Siuan relationship from "pillow friends as novices" with maybe a little more subtext in the book series, to "in a committed relationship for 20+ years" in the show, and there are many wonderful, emotional scenes in the show that solidify this. To have Siuan follow the Gareth Brynne relationship arc after building up her relationship with Moiraine for three seasons would have been weird at best, and a big slap in the face to wlw relationships at worst. Another BIG thing to keep in mind is that it was confirmed that Sophie Okonedo (Who played Siuan), had other acting opportunities that she had to move on to, and they wanted to give her a well-written exit without just disappearing the character for 1-2 seasons without explanation.

A lot of people have fears that the show is using POC and LGBT characters as cannon fodder/convenient death plot advancement, and it is not a completely unreasonable fear. Most people in their late 20s/30s can remember when TV (in America at least, I can't speak for other countries) rarely had LGBT or POC characters, and the few characters that were shown were typically portrayed as comic relief, or stereotypical trope side characters, or characters that were killed off quickly to advance the plot for the straight white main characters. The fear that your queer/POC fav is going to die randomly is pretty deeply ingrained in a lot of people, and it's hard to shake off. That being said, I don't think that is happening with Wheel of Time AT ALL. For the entirety of season 3, there have been signs that the Moiraine/Siuan relationship was not going to end happily. Moiraine's visions in Rhuidean showed that only one possible turning of the wheel among dozens/hundreds of possibilities ended with her and Siuan happy together. Scenes at the tower have been showing that Siuan's approval was slipping and that Elaida wanted revenge for being overlooked when the Amyrlin was decided. Killing Siuan when they did cemented the Moiraine/Siuan relationship as being something worth dying for in the viewers mind, and they did it in such a powerful way that it felt much more uplifting of LGBT relationships than if they had just let it fizzle out to make way for another romance plot with Siuan/Gareth.

Siuan is not the only POC/LGBT death this season either, Loial was killed in Episode 7, and Ihvon in the season 3 premier. From what I gather, Emmanuel Imani (who played Ihvon) also had other work opportunities and had to move on from the show. The Ihvon/Alanna/Maksim poly relationship was excellent to see, and I am glad that they did not shy away from the poly representation. It was a real relationship that had real ups and downs, just like any relationship, and I thought they did it justice. Loial's death was unfortunate, but I can understand it from the plot of the books why it happened. He was a good character, but his story arc did not necessarily add a lot to the main plot. That being said, Hammed Animashaun did a wonderful job portraying him and suffered through what I can only imagine as hundreds of hours of makeup and prosthetic work to create the character.

The majority of the cast are POC, and that is huge, even today. I have posted previously about, as a young teen who grew up in a 95%+ white community, I just assumed when reading the books that pretty much everyone was white. That obviously doesn't make sense, as the books have characters from every corner of the WoT universe, and the characters travel all over the world. It says right in the beginning of The Eye of The World that the other folks in Emond's Field often commenting that Rand was only one around with light skin and red hair. That being said, characters die in the series. LOTS of characters die. And to say that none of the POC characters should be dying off because we need to keep representation in the show is just plain ridiculous. The death of a character doesn't erase their narrative in the series, or erase the actor's work, and certainly not every character is going to survive in a post-apocalyptic series.

I often have this conversation with my group of friends when an example comes up: a lot of people lack emotional maturity when consuming media. The Siuan situation and how some WoT fans have responded is an excellent example of this. Siuan was a fan favorite, and the moment she died, some people reacted as if the entire series was ruined. The series that they were SO excited about just one week ago for being an excellent adaptation from their favorite book series that they have read and enjoyed for years, that they loved because of the POC representation and the LGBT romances and the likeable, relatable character..... And they are ready to burn it down because their wlw fav was killed. Threatening to review bomb the series, trashing it on social media, going as far to blame Sophie Okonedo for "ruining the series" by requesting to be written out of the show. I understand that Siuan's death hurt. She was a great character and she had a lot longer story arc in the books but.... Grow up. Not only do you look incredibly childish with these opinions, but you are also hurting the future of television networks doing large scale future productions of fan-favorite shows for fear that if they make the tiniest change, the fanbase will turn on the show. I have posted in the past about how some people hate the Elder Scrolls games because they depict rampant racism and how it "promotes racism" by doing so. But in the premise of the game setting, racism is realistic, especially in Morrowind, where they are so secluded from the empire and their ways are so different from the other provinces. That doesn't mean it's GOOD or that you should defend racism because it's present, but it's believable in the context that it is written and helps to build a fictional world and explain the characters' actions. Writing a good story doesn't mean that the author agrees with the ethics presented in the story, or wants to promote the idea that they are conveying to the reader/viewer. It is up to YOU to parse this out.

I'm sure I could probably go on at even greater lengths, but I want to end with my thoughts so far on the series as a whole. I think every season so far has been a massive improvement on the previous season, and I think it has the opportunity to get even better. The acting has improved every season, and though the story doesn't follow the books very closely, I've enjoyed it immensely. The representation of POC/LGBT folks remains excellent. The special effects are excellent. I am ABSOLUTELY biased because I have read the book series several times over the last 15 years, but it is probably the best fantasy/scifi series I have ever watched.

In conclusion, the real problem here is Amazon and their refusal to renew the show in a timely manner. Unfortunately, if Amazon continues to wait a year (or two years, or more) in between greenlighting the next season renewal, the show will suffer for it. Actors are people that need to buy food and clothing and housing just like everyone else, and while the main characters probably make a pretty decent wage for their work and could hold on a yar or two between paychecks, I doubt that the side character actors are getting paid enough money to live on for several years while waiting for the possibility of another season whenever Amazon feels like renewing. They will be forced to leave and take other positions because, unfortunately, money makes the world go round. The same goes for the hundreds of makeup/styling/setbuilding crew. Amazon needs to stop dragging their feet if they want to retain the amazing actors and the team of people who work hard to make this show a reality.

Thank you for the ask!! I really didn't expect this to get so out of hand but I did enjoy writing it out :)

[barrenclan]

I know most of the characters have human au names, but do you have any you haven’t posted publicly yet? Eg Cupid, Saturn, older Barrenclan like Wheatstar, Ladybugstar, Lilygleam or Harebreeze, Hitchcock / Zhao, the BlackMallow babies or Prowl and Fang’s families (you don’t have to give names for all of them that’d be madness I just blindly named a whole bunch).

Also, what would be the birth order the BlackMallow kits in a human au? Or did that poor woman get yeeted with the old magic quadruplets / dead husband one two punch.

Sorry if this ask is too long I’m infected.

I haven't thought of any more names, no, except for a couple of deeplings back in an older ask. I bet I could come up with some under some thunking though!

In a human AU, I'd probably spread all of the kittens out over a roughly even period, so they wouldn't have happened as quadruplets like cat litters. So Beth/Beeface and Leanne/Plumstripe are twins, and 29. The kittens would be Hunter/Honeykit as the oldest at 21 - like in canon I imagine Mallow and Black would wait a little while before having any more kids - Ruby/Bluebellkit at 18, Mason/Meadowkit at 15, and Eva/Egretkit at 14. This does wonky up the canon timeline a bit but it's an AU, the kittens can be older in this.

Funny you should mention that... it's not my human AU, but Moonless Night (@moonlessnight-things) has been developing a lot of wonderful designs of the characters as people and actually illustrated this exact scene back in February. Here's her fantastic drawings:

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

It's Flawless, Really Something

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: Language, flirting, a pervy parent, non-academic activities in the classroom

2.6k words

Teach Me Tonight Masterlist

“Did you save me that biscuit?”

Roy Kent leaned forward, hands on the plastic table, and smiled at you. His eyes were bright, and his black leather jacket hugged him deliciously; he was perfect, you thought. Stupidly, ridiculously, wonderfully perfect.

“Only if you’ve got exact change,” you managed to joke, holding out your outstretched hand.

Roy looked surprised at your teasing reply. Surprised, but also pleased. After your talk with Leanne, you’d made the terrifying decision that you were going to flirt with Roy Kent. You liked him, you knew that much. He clearly liked you, at least a little. And if he was ever going to ask him out, he, like any other man, needed a little encouragement.

With a content chuckle, the coach reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of quid, definitely more than the cost of one chocolate chip cookie. He pressed the money into your hand, curling your fingers into a fist as his warm grip lingered.

Despite your immediately wavering bravery, you held his gaze, not caring that he could probably see the way you gulped at his touch. “That’s a little too much, Coach,” you hummed.

“Consider the rest a tip,” he answered, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go. “For exemplary service.” He tilted his head at you. “How long’re you here for? Do they let you take a break, or do I need to call the union?”

“Maybe another half hour and then I’m pretty much done.” You smiled, not caring that there were students, and parents, and other teachers flittering around. “Why? You want to buy me a lemonade or something?”

He shrugged and picked up a chocolate chip cookie. “Or something,” he echoed with a wink. “Have fun.”

You watched unabashedly as he walked away, to where his sister and Phoebe were waiting for him. He handed the cookie to a bouncy Phoebe, while his sister waggled her eyebrows at him. Roy gave his sister a shove before glancing back at you, his smile widening when he caught you staring.

As you were wondering whether Leanne would kill you if you left her alone, Mrs. Seling rushed over mischief all over her face.

“Teresa’s dog got sick,” she said in place of a greeting. “We need someone in the dunk tank, just for twenty minutes until it’s Mrs. Halpern’s turn. Can you do it?”

Shit. The damn dunk tank. Every year, teachers brokered deals and offered bribes to avoid having a shift on the stupid thing, treating it like the torture chamber it was. The water was gross and weirdly warm. The air was freezing cold when you were soaked. Students lined up in droves to try to dunk their teacher into the water, and, worse, dads lined up to see the results.

Of course, Lee chose that moment to absolutely betray you and busy herself with selling brownies to a student’s grandmother, leaving you only able to smile weakly at Karen and mumble, “I guess.”

So, there you sat, hating the fact that you’d chosen today to wear a light-colored shirt to go with your jeans, but thankful for the fact that your students had terrible aim. Phoebe O’Sullivan stood among the gaggle of children who were desperate to see you fall into the tub of water that you tried not to think too hard about; her uncle stood not far, eyebrows raised in amusement, trying not to think too hard about how you’d look once you got dunked.

Normally, Roy thought of you as cute, pretty, adorable. An absolute distraction. But the thought of you in a soaked shirt, material clinging to your body… fuck, he needed to get his thoughts under control. After all, he hadn’t asked you out yet, hadn’t kissed you yet. But fucking hell, his mind was racing as he tried not to turn into a teenage boy with fantasies of a beautiful teacher in a wet t-shirt.

“Uncle Roy, you should try!”

Phoebe’s little voice dragged him out of his increasingly adult thoughts. “Hmm?” He stared at the ball in his niece’s outstretched hand, quickly comprehending what she’d just said. “Oh. Sure.”

He stepped up after watching one of Phoebe’s classmates throw a very wild pitch. Your eyes found his, carrying a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. He knew he could hit that stupid red target; he was a retired athlete, after all. A flick of his wrist, and you’d be soaked from head to toe.

But he saw the way Jack Price’s dad was leering at you, the way that fucker always did when his wife wasn’t around. And he felt that tightness in his chest again, the tightness he’d had that day at the zoo when he watched that skeeze put his hand on your shoulder. No way was Roy going to let slime see his personal fantasy.

Besides, you’d probably appreciate Roy not dunking you, right? It’d be rather gentlemanly. And you seemed like the type that wanted a gentleman. And Roy wanted to be what you wanted.

So, he gently tossed the ball, shrugging at you when it hit the backboard instead of the target.

“Thank you,” you mouthed, warming away that tightness in his chest. The relief and gratitude on your face was worth looking like he couldn’t throw a damn ball, as well as the fifty pence the ball had cost.

As he pondered how he could leverage his chivalrous gesture to finally ask you on a date, someone tapped his shoulder.

Jack Price’s dad smiled at him, that stupid, sharkish smile, tossing a ball up and down. “Guess you’re not as good at pitching as kicking, hmm?” he joked, as if they were the kind of people who joked with each other. “Watch and learn.”

Your gasp was sharp as you felt the bench disappear from under you and were instantly underwater. Dammit. You’d almost made it the full twenty minutes dry as a bone. Fucking Mr. Price and his fucking cricket hobby. You came back up rapidly, cheeks burning as the kids cheered on the sight of seeing their beloved teacher soaked.

To add insult to injury, Mrs. Halpern stood beside the dunk tank, ready to take your place. You clambered out of the dunk tank, shivering in the approaching evening air. All you wanted to do now was go home, shower, and put on your warmest pajamas. Never mind letting Roy Kent buy you a lemonade. You were cold, wet, and, admittedly, a little embarrassed by the way your shirt clung to your skin.

But you grabbed your things and put on that fake smile for your students who giggled over your misfortune and tried to make a speedy exit. Unfortunately, Mr. Price slowed down your plans.

“No hard feelings, right?” he hummed, eyes everywhere but your face. “It’s for a good cause, after all.”

Instinctively, you crossed your arms, attempting to hide as much as you could. “Of course,” you murmured, making a pathetic attempt to sidestep him.

He blocked your path, eyeing your figure. “Need help with those wet clothes?” he whispered as his hand landed on your shoulder, the way it had at the zoo.

“Oi.”

As you shrugged off Mr. Price’s hand, Roy Kent approached, peeling off his leather jacket. “You must be fucking cold,” he mumbled. Pointedly ignoring Jack’s dad, he wrapped the jacket around your shoulders. “How about that lemonade?”

“Thanks,” you sighed as Mr. Price scampered away. “But I should probably head home. Need a shower after being in that thing.” As you spoke, you did your best to ignore the feeling of Roy Kent’s jacket hugging you, enveloping you in the scent of whatever wonderful cologne he was wearing, a cologne he’d picked out in the hopes of bumping into you today.

“Sorry the jacket’s not more comfortable,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you can just give it back to me Monday. Keep you warm on your way home.”

You shook your head. “I have a sweatshirt in my classroom. I can just throw that on.” Seeing the slight disappointment in his brown eyes, you swayed forward slightly, batting your eyes at him- something you weren’t sure you’d ever done. “Walk me to my classroom?”

There was that smile. That fucking smile, the one that was bright enough to make you forget Roy Kent’s infamous rage, the perfect smile you wanted to kiss right off his bearded face. He kept on smiling as the two of you slipped away from the fall festival.

He liked seeing you in his jacket. It was just big enough to look cozy wrapped around your shoulders, and he cherished the way you tugged it tightly around yourself. Admittedly, he was a big jealous of the way his jacket got to be wrapped around you. He wondered if it would smell like you when he got it back; probably like the dunk tank water, unfortunately. Maybe he could offer it to you again sometime. Maybe even after a date.

You quickly unlocked your classroom and led Roy in, trying not to flinch when you heard the door close, silencing the already distant sounds of the festival. Neither of you bothered with the lights, instead letting the last of the sun softly illuminate the classroom. Roy followed you to your desk, wondering if you wanted him to leave or stay, and hoping beyond hope that it was the latter.

“Oh, here.” You slipped off his jacket and handed it to him. “Thanks again, Coach. Very chivalrous of you.” Your smile was probably the most confident he’d seen, playful and teasing. It was probably his favorite smile.

“Any fucking time,” he breathed. He was fighting so fucking hard not to stare at you. He knew he wasn’t a married dad like Mr. Price or the others, and he was pretty sure you liked the way he stared at you- but still. He didn’t want to be grouped with them, a creep who ogled you like a piece of meat.

But fuck, you were making it hard. That shirt clung to you like it wanted you even more than Roy did, flaunting the body you usually covered with cute dresses and jean jackets- a body Roy really liked. You pulled your dripping hair up in a clip you found on your desk, exposing a neck that Roy was sure would look great with a few marks on it. And you gazed up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, as if you were going to ask him a question.

He cleared his throat. “You headin’ home after you grab your sweater?”

You nodded absently. “Probably.” You took a tiny step back, hitting the edge of your desk. “You sticking around?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m with, uh, my sister and Pheebs.” Despite his best efforts, his eyes wandered. Fuck. “Sorry,” he muttered, wincing when he realized how obvious it was; he might as well be drooling.

You cocked your head at him. “For what?”

He shook his head, ears burning with shame and, if he was being really honest, desire. “For fucking…. Staring.” He made himself look you in the eye, which was somehow worse. “’m sorry.”

To his surprise, you smiled. “Don’t be. I… I like it when you stare.”

“Do you?” His voice was quiet, as if he thought being any louder would scare you off. “Why?”

You shrugged and hopped up onto your desk. “Because it’s you,” you said simply. Feeling dizzy from the way Roy looked at you, you reached out and touched his hand, grazing his skin with the tip of your finger. “You’re… you’re the kind of guy a girl likes to have staring.”

There it was. Since the first day of school, when he saw you in your little white sneakers and jean jacket, he’d been waiting for a clear sign that you were just as infatuated as he felt. And now, in your dark classroom, with your eyebrows raised and your hand on his and your lip caught between your teeth, Roy finally had his fucking sign.

He took a step forward and settled himself between your knees. Watching you carefully, he put his hands on your waist, digging his fingers into the soaking material of your shirt. You tilted your face towards him, finally giving him permission to do the one thing he’d been desperate to do since the moment you met.

Your lips were soft, even softer than Roy had let himself imagine. He had often wondered what kind of ChapStick he watched you apply on warm afternoons; cherry, he realized. Fucking cherry. For the rest of his life, he knew, whenever he tasted cherry, he’d be thrown back to this moment, kissing the pretty teacher in her classroom, amazed that someone so sweet would kiss someone so fucking miserable.

And kiss him you did. You brought your hands to the back of his head, pressing your chest flush against his. His hands fisted at your shirt, tugging it up a little so his fingertips could brush over your soft skin, still wet from the dunk tank, but quickly heating up as you deepened the kiss. Roy let you take the lead; he waited until your lips parted to open his own mouth, and your tongue was the first one to tentatively flick against his.  

He groaned softly into your mouth and let one hand cup your face, thumb caressing your heated cheek. He could get used to this, Roy thought. Used to your cherry-flavored kisses and hands in his hair and body pressed against his, and used to your sweet smiles and shy giggles and bright eyes. He wondered briefly what other things he could look forward to getting used to.

“We,” you huffed into the kiss. “We should go before-” Your breath hitched as Roy’s mouth wandered to your jaw. “-before someone sees us.”

He sighed against your skin. You were right. Roy knew you were fucking right. This was a school. You were in your classroom. As exciting and tempting as it was to keep going, he needed to respect that. After harshly pressing his lips to yours one more time, he pulled back.

“Let me take you out,” he all but begged. “On a fucking proper date.”

Your smile was brilliant. “That would be lovely, Coach.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, the hand on your waist giving you a gentle squeeze. “I think you can call me Roy now.”

“Right.” You giggled, that adorable bashfulness returning, somehow even more endearing now. “That would be lovely, Roy.”

Fucking hell, his name sounded good coming out of your mouth. It sounded so good he couldn’t help pulling you in for another kiss, a slow, tender one.

“Any chance you’re free tonight?” he breathed.

You nodded. “I just need to go home. Shower away the dunk tank.”

Roy did his best not to let his mind wander to that shower. “Right. Right.” He cleared his throat. “And I’ve got to drop my sister and Phoebe at home. Think I could come around at eight?” He kissed your jaw. “We could go get a drink. I can stare at you some more.”

“Sounds perfect.” With a teasing shove to Roy’s chest, you hopped down from the desk and grabbed your sweatshirt from where it hung over your chair, quickly pulling it over your head.

The two of you ambled out of the classroom wearing matching grins and blushes. It was a good thing your classroom was clear across campus from the festival, because it was painfully obvious that the two of you had just been pawing at each other.

“Be ready at eight,” Roy hummed, intertwining his fingers with yours. “And get ready to be stared at all night.”

“Looking forward to it.” You leaned forward and kissed his lips quickly. “See you in a bit, Coach.”

Roy growled at you, a playful, sexy sound.

Your laugh warmed his chest. “Roy,” you corrected as you squeezed his hand. “See you in a bit Roy.”

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