#The People's Guide to Mexico

[cdchyld]

Just added to Etsy!

~ "The People's Guide to Mexico" by Carl Franz (1979)

[empiireans]

eeeeee more of that rhythm family hc i briefly shared dump

a friend liked the idea of twirling champion (and laidback pioneer) being cousins with the rhythm fam, and twirl and dreams being skating partners. it had rotted my brain ever since lol

lil bonuses too

[ellies-enrichment]

i can't believe i made so many text posts and my queue is still empty 2 days later does it not know i had a headache and needed it to keep going with new exciting posts that i haven't made because my head hurt

[itgetsbetterproject]

FREE downloadable guide to nonbinary language in Spanish - spread the word! 💛🤍💜🖤

How do we take a traditionally gendered language like Spanish and adapt it to be more gender inclusive?

Language is a powerful tool - this new EduGuide is amplifying non-binary voices, dismantling stigmas, and teaching us how to take a traditionally gendered language and adapt it to be more inclusive.

Our pals at It Gets Better Mexico collaborated with Homosensual to address this crucial issue within the language — download their guide for FREE and share it around to friends, family, your school, and your community: itgetsbetter.org/blog/spanish-eduguide-for-the-inclusion-of-nonbinary-people

Education like this helps create a space where every identity is seen and celebrated!

---------

El lenguaje es una herramienta poderosa - esta nueva EduGuide amplifica las voces no binaries, desmantela los estigmas y nos enseña cómo tomar un lenguaje tradicionalmente basado en género y adaptarlo para que sea más inclusivo.

Nuestres amigis de It Gets Better México colaboraron con Homosensual para abordar este tema crucial dentro del idioma — descarga tú guía GRATIS y compártala con amigues, familiares, tú escuela y tú comunidad para participar en estas importantes conversations: itgetsbetter.org/blog/spanish-eduguide-for-the-inclusion-of-nonbinary-people

¡Una educación como esta ayuda a crear un espacio donde se ve y se celebra cada identidad!

[tlbodine]

So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

[futurewdclandonorris]

Lipstick Kisses | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: on a night out, Lando and you can't wait to go home and get your hands on each other

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, a bit kinky, Lando and the reader being switches, tying up only for a few moments

A/N: did I come up with this while sitting on a pile of requests? Absolutely, but hear me out. When I saw Lando that night out in Mexico I just couldn't resist. He's a walking inspiration. This is the piece I've put my whole being into, please leave me some feedback and don't let it flop ♡

The clear sky was a deep cobalt blue and the stars were twinkling like a million tiny fireflies. The air was cool and still, a gentle breeze rustling through, carrying the distinct smell of the city with it. The streetlamps were glowing, a mix of blues, pinks and greens while the hum of the traffic filled the air. In the distance, the city skyline glimmered with a hundred thousand windows, the tallest building reaching far into the sky. The air was alive with sound and light, the city exhaling its never ending energy.

Lando and you were in his car, heading towards the club. As you drove, the sultry voice of Lana Del Rey filled the car, the melodious tunes blending perfectly with the city's bright lights. Lando's eyes were fixed on the road, but you could feel his gaze on you from time to time. You wore a tight-fitting black dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, your long hair cascading down your shoulders in loose waves. You knew you looked good, with your smoky eye makeup and red lipstick, and you could sense Lando's hunger growing with each passing moment.

As you stepped out of the car, the sound of thumping bass and raucous laughter hit you. The neon sign of the club flickered above you, illuminating the crowds of people waiting to get in. Taking your hand, Lando guided you inside. The smell of alcohol and perfume mixed together as soon as you walked in, with the music permeating every corner of the place.

Lando led you to the VIP section where the drinks flowed freely. You took a sip of your cocktail and let the alcohol warm your body. Lando leaned in close to you, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you want to dance?"

Without hesitation, you took his hand and led him to the crowded dance floor. The beat of the music pulsed through your body, and you lost yourself in the rhythm. Lando's hands gripped your hips as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your neck. You could feel the heat between you growing, and your body responded in kind.

It was as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just you and Lando to revel in each other's company. As the music changed to a slower, sensual beat, Lando's hands roamed over your body, his fingers tracing the lines of your curves. You could feel his hard muscles pressed against you, the heat of his body making you gasp.

Lando's lips found yours, his tongue slipping past your lips. Your body tingled with desire as you felt his hands sliding down to your thighs, pulling you up against him. The music was the only thing keeping you grounded, the rhythm pulsing through you, guiding your movements.

As the song came to an end, Lando leaned down and whispered in your ear “I can’t wait to take you home.”

You smiled and ran a thumb over his bottom lip, removing a red smudge from your lipstick.

"I can't wait either," you replied, your voice thick with desire.

Lando's eyes darkened, and he took your hand, leading you back to the VIP section. The alcohol had gone to your head, but you didn't care. Tonight was about letting go and having fun.

Once you were back at the table, Lando ordered another round of drinks. As you waited, his hand snaked up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

The drinks arrived, and you downed yours in one gulp, feeling its warmth spreading through your body. Lando's hand moved higher up your thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your dress. Loud music drowned out your moan, feeling the heat between your legs growing.

“Lando,” you stained his neck. “Take me home.”

His jaw clenched at the tone of your voice and hand on your thigh grasped you tighter. Without hesitating, Lando beckoned for the bill, paid with a black card and led you out of the club, his hand gripping yours. You headed quickly to the car, your heels clicking against the pavement. You giggled as you got into the passenger seat, feeling lightheaded from the alcohol.

Lando's car rolled into the underground parking lot, the tires squealing slightly as he pulled up to your place. He turned off the car, but left the engine running. Leaning over he pulled you close, your lips meeting in a searing kiss. His hands trailed up your dress, edging it up until it clung to the tops of your legs. You moaned into his mouth as you felt his fingers slide up your inner thighs, pushing aside the lace of your panties.

You pulled away, your body throbbing in desire. "Not here," you gasped. "And the elevator is too small..."

Lando grinned, his teeth gleaming in the darkness. He turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, circling around to your door. He opened it and pulled you out, taking you into his arms. You could feel his hard cock pressed against your leg, indicating he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

He pulled you away from the car slowly, guiding you towards the elevators. You stepped inside, and he hit the button for the penthouse. The doors slid shut and the elevator began to climb. Your heart raced, your breaths coming in short gasps as you felt Lando's hands on your hips. He kissed you hard, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue. His fingers trailed down your neck, dipping into the top of your dress to caress your breasts. You moaned softly, feeling heat radiate from between your legs.

The elevator came to a stop and Lando looked deeply into your eyes before pressing his lips against yours in a final kiss that left you breathless. You were the first to leave the elevator, making your way to the bedroom and taking your dress off as you went. Lando's eyes were focused on your body, taking in the sight of you as you stepped out of your heels.

“Like what you see?” you teased, holding only the top of the dress over your frame.

“More than you could possibly imagine.” Lando’s eyes took in your curves, and he lunged towards you, dragging you onto the bed beneath him. He began to kiss every inch of your naked skin, wrapping his lips around your nipples as he tore the dress off, and sliding his tongue across your stomach.

His hands glided up the back of your thighs, pulling you towards him. The heat of his breath against your thigh sent a shiver through your figure, and your pussy ached with need. He skillfully removed your thong, making you moan as he slid a finger inside of you, his mouth moving to your clit. He flicked the soft nub between his teeth, causing your body to writhe in pleasure. You whimpered as you felt his fingers slip deeper into you, moving in and out in time with his tongue.

You arched your back as you felt the waves of pleasure crashing over you. You were so close to coming, and Lando seemed to know exactly where to touch you. You gasped, feeling your whole being exploding in ecstasy. Lando brought you to the edge over and over again, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging him to stop.

Lando's hands trailed up your figure, caressing your breasts. He pressed his lips against yours, kissing you deep, his tongue exploring every crevice of yours. You could taste your own juices on his lips and tongue, and the heat between your legs began to burn once more. You slid your hand down Lando's sides and grasped his cock, starting to rub him over the pants.

He moaned into your mouth as you stroked him gently, the other hand yanking on the chains around his neck, pulling him deeper into your mouth. You parted your legs, inviting him in. He teased you, grinding and rubbing his hardness against you. You could feel his cock throbbing with desire, begging to be buried deep within you.

You used a moment of his carelessness to wrap your legs tight around him and flip you around. You straddled him, pinning his arms on each side of his head.

“You’re such a tease.” he bit into his lower lip to stop his smile from spreading, admiring your naked physique on top of him.

“I’m about to tease you a lot more.” you said as you pushed your hips forward.

You buried your head into his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. You let go of his wrists -which he didn’t even bother moving- and unbuttoned his black shirt, your lipstick kisses marking every inch of toned skin. Removing the shirt and tossing it aside, Lando raised his arms above his head, giving you enough access to his chest. His muscles were firm and strong, and it made you ache for more. Kissing his upper body tenderly, you covered his collarbones in your lips’ red imprints. And every freckle and birthmark was kissed in a perfect heart-shaped pattern.

Lando groaned as you wrapped your hands around his torso and slid your pussy up and down his denim jeans. The fabric was so thin it made it easy for you to feel his hard cock pressing against you, begging for release. You let your lips graze his neck, your breasts pressed up against his bare chest. He started to move, thrusting his hips towards yours. The heat between you was undeniable, and you could tell he was holding back as much as you were.

You sat up, gazing into his eyes as you ran your hands down his abdomen. Reaching down and undoing his belt, you pulled it out from its loops. You wrapped the leather around his wrists, and pulled him towards the bedpost. You bit your lip, watching his body tug against the restraint, his muscles straining against the leather. You ran your hand over his dick, feeling it throb between your fingers.

“I want you to know who owns you.” you whispered, wrapping the other end of the belt around the bedpost. He was your prisoner, and you were his captor.

He watched you, his expression unreadable. You placed a final kiss on his lips and slid down his body, freeing his cock from its confines, squeezing it firmly. He groaned as he felt the leather holding him back when he reached for you. You ran your hand up and down, squeezing tighter with each pass. He let out a moan, and you stopped suddenly.

“No. Don’t stop.” Lando whined, his voice curling around you.

“You want me to stop?” you bit your lip, grinding into him.

“No!” he said, his voice cracking. “Please, don’t stop.” he panted.

You looked up at him, giving him a mischievous smile before sliding your hot mouth over his hard cock. He moaned, instantly forgetting about his hands being tied up. You pressed your lips tight, your tongue swirling around his tip. He cursed softly under his breath, enjoying the sensation. You took him all the way in, letting your lips swallow his hot, firm cock, moaning as you hit the back of your throat.

Lando pulled at the belt, trying to free his hands as you took him deeper, sucking harder. He moaned, the pleasure choking his words. You slid your mouth off his cock and gave the tip a few kisses. Locking eyes with him, you glided your mouth over his cock once more, this time faster.

You let your hands skim over his thighs, gripping hard as you bobbed your head up and down. You felt him twitch in your mouth, and you pulled away, looking up at him. He looked back at you, with a wide eyed expression.

“Please, don’t stop.” he begged again, leaning his head back against the bed.

You gripped his cock, running your tongue over the shaft. You circled the tip with it, tasting the sweet flavor of his desire as it dripped from him. You felt the cool air caress the wetness that lingered around your lips.

“Please.” he whispered again.

You reached up and undid the belt around his wrists. You let him free his hands, and he wrapped one around your neck, pulling you into a kiss as he let the other roam down your back. He drew you towards him, reaching down to cup your hot pussy. His fingers explored your lips before moving to your clit, rubbing softly. He nudged your body towards the bed, climbing on top of you and kissing you deeply, his lips dancing across yours and chains clinking with every motion.

The heat of his body against yours made you ache even more as you felt the wetness between your legs. You wanted him so bad you could taste it.

“Please, I want you.” you moaned.

“Please what?” it was his turn to tease you.

“I want you so bad.” you let your fingers trace down his chest.

“That’s right. Beg for it.” he relished in your neediness.

“Please, fuck me.” you said, your voice high pitched and out of control. “Please, fuck me right now.”

He slid his hand across your body, taking your hand, and pressed it against the bed. He stared into your eyes, his hand holding yours. You knew he wanted you to beg more, but you wouldn’t let him have it. You bit your lip, and his green eyes narrowed. He freed your hand, guiding it with his own, nipping at your lip and kissing it gently.

You smiled at him, and his grip tightened. He teased you, gliding his body over yours. The feel of his hard cock pressing against you only drove your desire for him higher. You moaned as you felt it go over your clit, sending shivers through you. You wrapped your legs tight around him, wanting to feel him all the way inside you.

Lando stared into your eyes, sucking your lower lip into his mouth. He let go of your hand and moved from your mouth to your neck. Your breath caught as he continued trailing kisses along your throat and shoulders. He suckled your sensitive skin, and your nails slid across his bare back, making him hiss in response as you dug them into his flesh, leaving red lines.

His lips found your breast, and his tongue swept over your hardened nipple. He took it into his mouth and sucked on it, sending shocks of pleasure through you as you felt him kneading it with his lips. You bit down on your lower lip to stifle the moan that rose in your throat. His teeth grazed against the sensitive bud, and you gasped, your back arching involuntarily in response.

“I’ve been waiting for this.” he whispered into your ear.

He encircled your legs with his arms and you embraced him in return, squeezing your thighs around his waist. His lips crashed against yours, passionately expressing the feelings that had been building up between the two of you for far too long. And when he pressed himself into you, it was clear that he'd been yearning for this as much as you were.

Lando moved his hips, grinding into you. You felt him moving deeper inside you, and you moaned into his mouth. He pulled his hips back and slammed them forward again. Your body moved back and forth, as he thrust into you again and again. He rubbed your clit, and you felt the tingles building inside you, the soft waves radiating out from your hips. You whimpered, as you felt it building up, closer and closer.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” he grunted as he thrust into you again, and your body tightened, shaking against him. You broke away from his kiss, your eyes closed and head thrown back. You bit your lip, sustaining a scream, letting out a deep moan instead, waves crashing up against you again.

He leaned back, thrusting his hips harder, and fingers pressing against your clit. Your hips ground against him, meeting each desperate thrust. You were lost in a sea of pleasure, your head spinning. You took him deeper inside you, grinding against him as your body shook.

The waves crashed into you, and you felt them rippling through your body, waves of pleasure that you could do nothing but ride out. Your moans were loud, and you didn’t even care. He thrust into you, over and over, your moans mixing together. You felt the last of the pleasure wash over you, your body rendered boneless.

“You’re mine.” his chains dangled over you as he leaned to whisper into your ear.

They landed in your mouth, your teeth tugging on them, urging him to begin thrusting again, to move with you as you rode out the last of the waves. Your body felt less sensitive, but he just felt so good. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tight. You moaned, meeting his thrusts as he started to move quicker and faster. He felt the heat between your legs as you felt him twitch, and you moaned again, pressing your lips into his shoulder.

“You ready?” he said, his voice hoarse.

You felt the warmth spread through you, and your pussy tightened, trying to squeeze his cock. His moans increased as his hips quickened their tempo. You sucked on his neck, licking over his collar bone, all your previous artwork smudged. He bit down on your shoulder, and grew even more aroused. The heat inside you intensified, your hips moving wildly in sync with his.

He pounded into you, his cock sliding in and out of your tight, wet pussy. You could feel yourself panting more rapidly as the intensity of the moment began reaching a boiling point, your moans increasing in volume with every stroke.

You heard him grunt, his cock twitching inside you. Your pussy squeezed him, and he groaned. You kissed him, hard, and he broke away from you. He stared into your eyes, his forehead touching yours as sweat glistened on his skin. You whimpered, and his eyes closed, mouth soundlessly hanging open.

He thrust into you one last time, his cock quivering deep inside you. You felt the warmth fill you up, and you moaned out. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you felt yourself slowly drifting back to reality.

Lando collapsed on top of you, his arms wrapped around you, making you fit inside him, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. You felt your body shaking with the aftershocks of the orgasm. You could feel his cock still jerking slightly inside you, causing soft moans to escape you as you came down from your high.

He rolled off you and gathered you in his arms, pulling you close. You let out a sigh of contentment as he caressed your arm and pressed his lips against your forehead. He looked into your eyes, the love evident on his face.

“I love you,” he said softly.

You smiled and ran your hand through his sweat dampened curls, feeling warmth fill your heart. You touched his face with both hands, gazing into his eyes.

“I love you too," you whispered back before the sound of his steady heart beat lulled you into a peaceful slumber.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty three

authors note: the day of the big party has arrived. reminder, this has a time jump. solana is now home from treatment, though that's touched on in here as well.

also, if you watched arrow, i totally use one of my favorite characters from that show for a certain character. don't own him or anything wwe related. lol

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and violence

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

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Solana stops humming as she rips her gaze from the several pots that she currently has sitting on the fire. “It’s not too late.”

Rolling her eyes, she rubs her hands off on her apron and walks over to her husband. Roman pulls her into him as she lifts her hands around his neck. “Ro…..”

“We could just not open the door.”

“Roman.”

This would be Solana’s welcome home party. Two weeks. She’s been home for two weeks, and it’s been a beautiful transition. Being back with her husband and Dulce has meant the world to her. It’s why she wanted to take some time to enjoy the two most important figures in her life before hosting such a social function.

But now the big day has arrived, and while she’s filled with excitement, her husband…..is not.

“What if I buy you something instead? Like an island? Just for us.” Solana is taken back for a moment. She’s still yet to fully grasp the perennial extent of the Bloodline’s reach and wealth. Of her husband’s billionaire status. “Have security set to shoot to kill if anyone tries to bother us.”

She smiles, because while his words are borderline disturbing, the seriousness in his voice and expression are slightly humorous. “Ro, that’s not nice.” 

Roman also rolls his eyes, Solana having a bit of a hard time taking him seriously. He’s so petulant, like a child. “Baby, how many times we gotta have this conversation? I love you and hate everyone else.”

“Dulce?”

“Tolerable.”

Shaking her head, she shifts her hands to his chest. “This is what I want, Roman. I’ve been gone for so long. I just….I just want to be surrounded by the people I love.” And before he can say anything else, she clarifies, “beyond just you and Dulce.”

“She don’t like this shit either. She likes us. That’s it.”

“That’s not what I heard. Apparently, Jimmy really is her new bestie.” Solana giggles, thinking back to the photos Naomi sent and shared with her of Jimmy sitting on the sofa with Dulce, Dulce even sleeping in the bed with him as he took a nap. Almost identical to the ones she received while they were in Mexico. It seems Roman’s cousin has taken a liking to her sweet little puppy.

Roman looks even more irritated as he shares, “you know he had her sleeping in the bed with him again?” Solana does in fact know. She’s got photographic evidence to prove it. “I swear, I saw her little ass standing up on her legs on the side of our bed like she wanted to get in the other day. She can try that shit with us if she wants to, but—”

Solana leans up and kisses him, effectively silencing his rant. Roman’s hands are on the small of her back, deepening the kiss as his tongue glides across her bottom lip, Solana having to prematurely end the kiss when he starts guiding her towards the nearest clear counter that he doesn’t hesitate to prop her up on.

She knows exactly where this is headed, and she has way too many things left to do before the party kicks off.

Ignoring his scowl at her drawing a line in the sand, she does her best to encourage him, “today is going to be a good day. We’re going to have a good time—”

“debatable.” 

“—and if you can try to be nice and not curse at or hurt anybody—”

“—do you not know who I am?”

“Then after the party and everyone’s gone—” her eyes drop to his chest, a bit of sheepishness overcoming her. “—when it’s just you and me….” Solana pushes past her shyness at even thinking of it, sharing in a quiet voice, “then I’ll do the thing.”

Roman looks skeptical, clearly not following, “the thing?”

Solana swallows. She hates how uncomfortable and embarrassed she feels about discussing this. “You know….the…..thing you want me to do where I…..sit.” 

And it’s that elaboration that brings a smug smile on his handsome face. “You finally gonna sit on my face, baby?”

Solana’s cheeks are flamed and reddened. “Not so loud.” She looks around, as if someone could be eavesdropping on quite literally the most sexual thing she’ll have ever done. “But…..y–yes.” She lifts a finger, reminding him of the stipulation. “But, only if you can b–behave.” 

Roman smirks, dropping his gaze to her chest that looks amazing in her little dress. “For you, I can be very good.” She smiles up at him, “but something before could also be a nice incentive.”

Solana slaps Roman on the chest and tugs herself away, hopping off the counter as he squeezes her ass. “Ro, I have to finish cooking, and Melina should be here any minute.”

He scowls, eyes briefly falling to her ass as she moves back over to the stove. “Who is that again?”

“One of my friends from treatment,” she answers over a sigh, grabbing the almost emptied bottle of Adobo. “I told you that this morning.” 

“Yeah, while you were getting dressed. I wasn’t paying attention to anything except them titties.”

She turns to him, cheeks red, and not from her makeup. “Roman, you can’t…nevermind....can you do me a favor?”

“Can we cancel the party?” She gives him a look, forcing him to resign. “Fine. What do you need?”

She motions to the aluminum trays of food lined up all on the kitchen island. A small part of him feels bad for not helping her cook. He’s far from the best, not even remotely close to her in terms of talent, but Solana woke up at the ass crack of dawn this morning to finish cooking. Because she started yesterday evening, and it’s only occurring to him now that he hasn’t done a ton to help her.

She asked the security around them to set up the backyard, chairs and tables and shit. Now that he thinks about it, she hasn’t asked him for much, really. 

Sighing and realizing his role, or lack thereof, in this thing brings on small amount of guilt.

Roman moves behind her, speaking before she can scold him yet again for trying to distract her. “I’m sorry.” He feels the way she relaxes in his embrace, sees how she angles her head to look at him with all the confusion. “I know this is…important to you, and I don’t mean to be difficult.”

Because it is, and because he doesn’t. He’s immensely proud of her, of how well she’s adjusted to being back home full time after being gone for so long. The least he can do is try to be a bit more supportive, even if just the thought of this damn party and being forced to interact with people makes him physically ill. 

“You? Difficult? Never.” He rolls his eyes at her sarcastic tone as she turns her body inward to his. “It’s okay. I know you’re not very…..social, but it’s just one party. And when everyone’s gone….it’s just you and me.”

Roman loves the sound of that. His dick stiffening at just the thought of her climbing on top and sitting on his fa—

“But until then, party first.” She bursts his bubbles, separating and motioning to the trays. “Now, food, please.”

Roman rolls his eyes but follows suit, reaching for the first set of food that smells delicious and has him tempted to just eat before everyone else arrives. He’s near the back door when she calls behind him. 

“Muchas gracias, papi.”

It’s by the grace of God that he doesn’t drop the tray onto the floor. Truly. Because while Roman is far from fluent in Spanish, he’s picked up a few things. Learned some more since being married to Solana. 

He knows muchas gracias is ‘thank you very much’.

And he knows that papi…..is ‘daddy’.

Solana just called him daddy. 

Fuck.

A quick glance back in her direction reveals a small, coy smile. Intentional. She knows exactly what she just did.

He has to take a minute to compose himself.

This woman will easily be the end of him. 

“Ain’t nobody sleeping tonight,” he says it loud enough so she can hear, the last thing filling his ears is her soft laughter. 

————

“Mrs. Reigns.”

Solana has just finished pouring the pasta into the aluminum pan when she hears her name called by one of the security guards. Turning around, a huge smile falls onto her face as the guard steps aside.

“Melina!”

Solana’s smile is stapled as she carefully places the sizzling pot into the sink and runs a bit of water to prevent staining before shutting it off and heading in Melina’s direction.

A hug is initiated and a lack of tensing is prevalent in both women. The two of them just enjoying the embrace. Solana is the first to pull back, sharing, “I’m so happy you could make it.”

It’s been two weeks since they’ve last seen each other in person, since they completed residential treatment, but they’ve texted consistently since them. A couple FaceTime calls as well. With Cam and Mickie, too. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” Melina’s smile isn’t as big, but it’s just as genuine. That’s just Melina. She looks around the house, eyes widening a bit. “Your house is beautiful.”

Solana starts to correct her. Starts to point out that it was Roman’s first. She just happened to move in when they got married, but she stops herself, because that’s not the truth. This is her home. Hers and Roman’s. It’s just as much hers now as it is his. So, she settles on a much better response, “thank you.” She motions to the kitchen. “You still willing to help me cook?”

Another thing they bonded over includes cooking. Something Melina loves just as much as Solana. 

Melina smirks. “Of course.” She digs into her purse, pulling out the brand new bottle of Adobo seasoning. “Even brought an extra one, just in case.”

Solana gives a big sigh of relief. “I’m running low, too.” She was almost tempted to ask Roman to make a grocery run for her in the event the little she has left wasn’t enough to season the remaining food. “Now, I made most of the main dishes last night. It’s just some appetizers and desserts.”

“You want me to do the conchas and sopaipillas?”

“If you don’t mind?” It would help Solana out a ton. Especially since they’re the favorites of her husband and his ravenous cousins. 

Melina shakes her head. “Of course not, just show me the apron.” 

————

Mickie and Cam show up shortly after, but as both are not cooks and don’t hesitate to express as such, they’re relegated to finishing up some of the little things that need to be done in the backyard.

The Wise Man arrives as well, him and Roman disappearing in his office to discuss some work matters. At least, that would be Solana’s guess for their departure.

A little while later, the doorbell rings and Solana rushes over, excited that the bulk of the guests are preparing to arrive. 

Roman happens to meet her at the same time she’s near the front door, only for her to pause when she overhears a voice.

Jey’s voice.

“.....and when we get up in this house, ya’ll better act right. Don’t break nothing. Don’t burn nothing. And that goes for each other, too. Ya’ll know how your uncle Roman is. He not gon’ hesitate to put us all out, and I’m not trying to have that happen, cause ya mama is refusing to fix dinner tonight, so we gon’ need to ea—Josiah! Did you just flip off your brother?”

“He’s being a dick!”

“Aye, don’t be using that kind of language. I’m not gon keep telling you that!” A pause. “Journee! What happened to the bow in your hair?”

“I don’t want a stinkin' bow!”

“Lil girl, I’m tired of you leaving the house looking homeless. Got people thinking I’m neglecting you and shit!”

“If we’re not supposed to say bad words, how come you can say bad words?”

Solana grabs Roman’s hand and pulls him so they can take a step back. “Are—are those his kids?”

“More like demons, but yes.” Solana gives him that disapproving look. “Hey, you wanted to invite them. I tried to tell you.”

Solana shakes her head. “They’re—they’re probably just having a bad day.”

“Every day is a bad day for them then.” 

Solana slaps him on the arm and clears her throat. She takes one last look at Roman who’s giving her that ‘I tried to warn you’ look, which she discards to open the beautifully designed front door, a big smile on her face when she locks gazed with a grinning Jey.

“What’s up, Soso!” Before Solana can even process what’s happening, Jey is in front of her, hugging her, picking her up. 

She’s almost moved on an emotional level at how this doesn’t trigger her, doesn’t cause her to tense up. Just feels like a warm embrace from a good friend. 

From family.

Jey sets her down on the ground and compliments, “you look good, girl!” She smiles, biting down on her bottom lip. Compliments are still a bit of a struggle for her. Especially ones not from her husband. “We missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Because she did. She missed them all. Solana sets her focus on the set of children, of various ages and sexes. Two girls and two boys who all look like their father in various ways, sans their complexions, which are a few shades deeper. “You must be—”

“Boobies!” Solana’s jaw drops at the exclamation of the boy who’s the tallest and probably oldest. His eyes are as wide, dazed, and mesmerized as he points to her chest. “They’re so big. Are they real?”

“Josiah Fatu!”

He ignores Jey’s harsh use of what Solana would guess is his name. “Can I feel them….” Solana goes to straighten up as the little boy starts to reach for her chest. 

Roman is quick to yank Solana so her back is against his front, his arm wrapped protectively around her as she uses her own forearm to cover the cleavage showing with her dress. “You better get your son before I kill his ass, Jey!”

“I’m so sorry, Soso.” Jey apologizes and turns his attention to Josiah. “Boy, have you lost your damn mind?”

Josiah scowls. “You’re the one who said Aunt Solana has nice tits!”

“I was talking to your uncle Jeremiah, not you!” Jey clears his throat, nervous eyes briefly darting to Roman who Solana absolutely makes sure to hold onto. She can feel his anger growing by the second. “Uhh, let me—let me talk to him for a minute.” Jey then directs the kids, “ya’ll go on in the house, and remember what I said!”

Not even seconds later, the remaining three children dart into the home, Solana yelping and pressing herself into Roman to avoid being run into.

“Don’t be running in my damn house!” Roman calls after them, looking down at Solana as Jey drags Josiah away from the door and to the side. “You see what I’m saying now?”

Solana opens her mouth and then closes it, finally settling on, “they’re just excited an—”

She’s cut short by the sound of glass shattering. Her mouth shuts again as Roman closes his eyes. “Ro, just breathe—”

“What the hell did ya’ll just break?” Roman yells out, and she moves her hands soothingly up and down his chest. “Excited, my ass, Solana. I’m telling you. I’m going to kill one of these kids before the day is over.”

“Roman, you are not going to kill one of the kids,” Solana assures, bringing her hands to his face, forcing his gaze back on her. “It’s—it’s going to be fine. Remember, I—”

The sound of loud laughter and the quick patter of feet, both human and not human, redirect the couples attention as Dulce comes running up to her parents, seeking asylum from the little girls hot on her trail. Quickly, Solana leans down to pick up Dulce who instantly starts whining. 

“Ya’ll leave the damn dog alone,” Roman warns, Solana using her elbow to lightly bump him for his tone. 

“She’s just a puppy, so she gets scared a lot. That—that’s all.” Solana explains in a kind voice, recognizing they probably just want to pet her. “Maybe if—” 

She’s silenced by two of the kids rushing past her and Roman, prompting him to remind them yet again, “I said stop running in my goddamn house!” Roman takes a step back from his wife, shaking his head. Fuck this. “Solana, I can’t do th—”

“Whassup, my dawgs!”

“Sami?” Roman is visibly confused and now even more annoyed at the presence of a genial looking Sami in their doorway “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I told Jimmy to invite him,” Solana explains, walking over while still holding Dulce who immediately stops whimpering when she sees Sami. “Hi, Sami. Thanks for coming!”

“Yeah, of course. I would never deny the Tribal Chief’s wife anything.” He says with a nervous thumbs up to Roman who still looks murderous. Sami nervously clears his throat, leaning down to look at Dulce. “And who is this?”

“This is Dulce,” Solana introduces and offers. “Would you like to hold her?”

“Of course!” Sami is careful with how he takes the puppy, who Solana notices immediately starts wagging her little tail. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Well, yes you are.”

“Soso!” Solana looks past Sami to see Naomi and Jimmy, the latter of which bumps his wife out of the way to rush towards her for a hug. Similar to Jey, he picks her up and lightly spins her. “You finally out of lockdown!”

“Jimmy!”

Naomi looks horrified, shoving her husband before pulling Solana in for a hug. Roman just looks pissed. Meanwhile, Jimmy shrugs, sniffing the air. He claps his hands and rubs them together, “man, that food sure does smell good. I’m about to go fix my plate before—”

“No,” Solana interrupts, clarifying. “Kids eat first.”

“Kids?” Jimmy scowls as Sami walks in the house to the back, most likely to head out in the backyard, having handed Dulce to Roman. “Man, Jey’s bad ass kids can wait.”

“Solo is bringing his sons too.”

“He what?” Roman and Jimmy are synched, Solana and Naomi sharing an amused smile. Roman cuts in, asking, “Solana, you’ve never even met his kids.”

“I’ve never met his wife either, but I invited her too.” Solana explains, ready to try to help her husband understand it felt rude to her to invite Solo who, despite rockiness at some points, she has appreciated over the past months serving as her protector when Roman can’t, but not his family.

“Ahhh! Solana!” Bianca’s excited voice sounds, drawing the group's attention to not only her but Jade and their respective partners, Montez and Trick. Solana accepts the hugs and compliments from both ladies.

Montez lowers his sunglasses taking in the mansion, red solo cup in the other hand. “Damn. This how the Tribal Chief living? This shit nice as hell.”

“Gated and everything,” Trick chimes. Both men straighten up and clear their throats at Roman’s irritated, piercing gaze. Trick coughing up a quiet, “sir.”

Roman says nothing, the men following Jade and Bianca as Naomi directs them to the backyard. 

“Oh my gosh!” Melina’s shocked voice sounds as she comes from the kitchen, pointing with a horrified expression. “What the hell is wrong with these children?”

At that, Roman demands Jimmy. “Get them.”

Jimmy shakes his head, running over, disappearing from the line of vision. “Hey! Ya’ll stop trying to kill the Wise Man!” Jimmy’s shout can be heard even if he can’t be seen. “Take that tie from around his neck right—are you recording? Girl, put that damn phone down right now!”

Melina walks over, clearly disturbed, Solana offering both her—and Roman—apologetic smiles.

“I hope they have some weed at this party. I haven’t gotten high in over 12 hours.”

“Mother, you will not get high at this party, do you understand me?”

“You know that old hag doesn’t listen.”

“Suck my dick, Escobar!”

“Abuelita, please!”

The remaining three adults, as well as Dulce, redirect their attention to the next set of arrivals. Bayley and her mother Juanita who are accompanied by a man Solana would guess is Bayley’s father as well as an older woman.

“Solana!” Bayley walks up to Solana, giving her a big, warm hug. One that Solana reciprocates with all the warmth in the world. “Melina?”

“Bayley?”

Confused, watching Bayley move to hug Melina, Solana asks, “you guys know each other?”

Bayley is the one to answer with a soft smile. “She’s been with my cousin Santos for years.” Bayley takes Melina’s hand in hers. “Practically family.”

Wow. That’s a connection Solana most definitely didn’t see coming.

Bayley's dad clears his throat, addressing Roman, “Thank you, sir, for allowing us in your beautiful home.”

“I didn—”

“You must be Bayley’s dad?” Solana cuts off her husband, already knowing he’s about to say something rude. Or worse. She offers her hand. “I’m Solana.”

The older man shifts his focus, accepting the handshake, offering his name as his eyes settle into something almost soft.

And sad.

Juanita steals a hug from Solana, holding onto her a bit as she asks her husband. “Bernardo, who does she look like? I know you’ll know!”

He smiles, but there’s nothing happy about it. “Alma.” Now Solana is the one frowning. “She looks like Alma.”

Instantly, Solana can feel Juanita’s energy shift, matching that of her husbands.

“Who the hell is that?” Roman’s annoyed voice cuts in as he switches Dulce from one arm to the other. 

Bernardo gives a solemn nod, explaining, “My late brother’s daughter. She…..passed away many years ago.”

Oh.

“So, you’re saying my wife looks like a dead woman?”

“Roman!” Solana harshly whispers, though she’s also a bit unsure how to respond to that. “Umm—”

“Got any weed around here?” The older woman who Juanita shares the same eyes and lips with asks in a rough voice, adding on, “though the food smells pretty good too.”

“Mother, please.” Juanita shakes her head, apologizing. “I’m so sorry we had to bring her. She’d been staying at this nice nursing home we found for her, but she got kicked out….again.”

“This is the fourth damn one in six months,” Bernardo mutters. 

“Didn’t even hit that bitch that hard,” Abuelita defends when her gaze suddenly falls to Roman. “Oh.” She walks over to him, her hand on his bicep, Solana seeing the instant look of disapproval and disgust that appears on his handsome face. “Now, you are a man, aren’t you?” Switching her attention to Solana, she so casually asks, “it’s big, isn’t it? Heavy too. I can tell by the way he stands.”

“Abuelita!” Bayley’s face is reddening by the second as she carefully grabs her grandma by the arm. “I’m just gonna take her out back.” She sends Roman an apologetic look and ushers Abuelita away as the older woman asks something about cocaine. Bernardo and Juanita follow suit with Melina excusing herself to check on Conchas.

Left alone with just her husband, Solana relieves him of Dulce, her sweet little baby nestling her head against Solana’s chest. 

“Roman, please, you said you’d behave.”

“Well, that was before I found out you invited half the damn city,” is his counter as he asks, “Solana, just how many people did you invite?”

“Enough,” is her vague answer. She sighs at his unchanging expression of wanting to know. “Okay, I didn’t tell you how many because I knew you’d be annoyed.” 

“I’m not—”

“And I made sure that Jimmy and Jey vetted everyone, so there wouldn’t be any safety concerns,” she offers, hoping that it ebbs away some of his frustration.

Roman has a lot of questions, but the most important one is the one he asks next. “Do they all know—”

“No,” she answers in a quiet voice. “Outside of like the obvious, they all just think it’s a get-together.”

Roman nods. That chips away some of his irritation. Solana’s mental health is not the business of all these damn people. 

“Good.” Is all he says, reaching for Dulce. “It’s best she stay in our room. Away from—”

“Hey, Uce!” Jey suddenly sounds, standing by the still open front door. “You got a ladder or something? Journee ass on the damn roof!”

————

All things considered, it’s a fun time. Solana enjoys serving people and is granted a major confidence boost from all of the compliments she receives over her cooking. It truly warms her heart, almost as much as the seamless meeting and introduction of Bayley and Naomi to the rest of her new friend group: Cam, Mickie, and Melina.

The ladies all seem to get along well, so much so that the conversation and idea regarding a girls trip to Mexico isn’t even something that Solana has to bring up. Some of the other ladies do it for her.

And it’s beyond exciting to her. 

The whole party is an ordeal. Mostly fun with some hiccups. Roman having to eventually delegate all of Jey’s……excited kids to staying in the backyard where they can be monitored. It’s an interesting juxtaposition. Jey’s kids with Solo’s children who are almost scarily obedient. Yes sir and no sir. Staying seated, almost afraid to interact with anyone other than their parents. Solo’s wife, Madi, is also not as friendly as Solana was hoping for, mostly staying with her quiet children. Her nose is turned up almost the entire time too, her arm looped with her husband’s.

Abuelita is placed in the house in the living room where she’s left to watch The Price is Right reruns after being upset at the lack of available substances outside of alcohol.

“What the fuck kind of Mafia boss doesn’t have any drugs in his house?”

It’s an especially fun time with the music, a combination of Rap, R&B, with, of course, Spanish music. The last of those creating many fun memories of Solana, Bayley, Melina and even Juanita sharing some classic Spanish dances with the other attendees.

Though there does reach a point where Roman not so subtly pulls Solana away from dancing, whispering something in her ear that’s far too NSFW with all the children present regarding her tempting him.

She stays by his side for a little bit after that, noticing how he really only interacts with herself, the twins, and the Wise Man. 

That’s it. 

Solana is starting to wonder if he really does hate people as much as he says he does.

A random little thing she does find kind of…..cute almost is the interaction between Nia and Bautista. There….there could be something there.

It’s not nearly as hilarious though as the interaction between the twins, Montez, and Trick. Trick and Jey somehow creating a new combination of  ‘Yeet’ and ‘Whoop that Trick.’

Roman, as expected, is the only one not amused.

He actually looks like he’s in some form of physical pain. 

The real challenge, however, is finding an activity that’s both appropriate and enjoyable for adults and children, especially with such a mixed group of people. Naturally, Uno is the first thing brought up, but logistically, that doesn’t work out for lack of enough cards for everyone. It’s also something that, according to Naomi and Bayley, would end up in probable murder given the competitiveness of the men. Bloodline and not.

A couple of additional ideas are thrown out before the vast majority settles on a simple, easy game of red light, green light.

At least….it was supposed to be easy.

“Damnit!” Bayley cusses as she and Jade are the next set of players to fail to make it to the next round. Jade rolls her eyes and mumbles something incoherent as she flips off Trick who makes a smart comment as she moves back by his side, taking her wine cooler from him.

Bayley comes near Solana who sits on Roman’s lap after having been eliminated in the last round. Of course, Roman opted to not participate, much rather keeping his eyes and focus on Jey’s kids who were also eliminated earlier on.

Especially a smiling Jayla as she sits there counting a surprising amount of money for a young child.

Huh. 

Solana wonders where she got it from.

Bayley shakes her head, downing some more of her coca cola. Like Solana, she’s remained sober thus far. “Shit is hard.”

“Not really,” Roman comments without much consideration as he takes a sip of his beer. Solana doesn’t know what to make of the fact that the stressors of the party thus far have driven her husband to drink. Her husband who rarely ever drinks.

She’s most definitely going to have to make this up to him, though she has a good mind that he’s well ahead of her with that.

Bayley scoffs. “Whatever, Reigns.”

Solana subtly moves her hand on top of Roman’s free hand that’s placed on her stomach, his arm wrapped almost protectively around her.

She starts to lean into his strong chest but ultimately decides against it, mindful of the image. Cognizant of the fact that their current position simply looks like the possessive Tribal Chief making known what belongs to him. A necessity given not everyone present is privy to the fact the marriage between the two of them is so much more than a business transaction, an arrangement common to their world.

It’s real.

As real as their feelings and love for each other. 

“Red light!” Sami calls out. As a self proclaimed ‘master strategist,’ he was easily voted as the one to judge who does and does not make it to the next round. He starts listing off the names of people who moved afterwards. Two of Solo’s sons, Cam, Montez, Carmelo, and Jey.

The almost drunk latter of which is not pleased by. 

At all.

Jey sucks his teeth. “Whatchu’ mean I’m out?” Deep scowl on his face, he argues. “I didn’t even move.”

A group of disagreement sounds, including Roman who says so matter-of-factly, “you moved, Jey.”

“Uce, listen, it’s all good. Maybe in the next game—”

“I said I didn’t move!” Jey snaps, cutting off Sami’s attempt at normalizing his elimination. “Now, let’s keep going.”

Sami walks over and almost nervously runs his hand through his unruly hair. “Jey, man, you—you got eliminated—”

“Imma eliminate your ass if you don’t get the fuck away from me!” Jey’s growing aggressiveness seems to capture the focus of the attendees, current and former players alike. “I don’t know why you’re even here!”

Sami’s eyes go wide as he gestures to himself. “Me? I—” He points toward Solana who has a small frown on her face, seeing where this is headed. “Soso—”

That’s clearly the wrong thing to say, a visibly inebriated Jey snapping yet again, “aye, you don’t call her that! She not your family, motherfucker!.”

Jimmy rolls his eyes, calling out as he prepares yet another plate of food. “Fool, would you calm your ass down.”

“Naw, cause I’m sick of this shit. Sick of him acting like he one of us!”

“Hey, I’m just as much Bloodline as you, Uce!”

Jey shoves Sami, forcing the other man to the ground. “Call me that one more time, and Imma lay your homeless looking ass out!”

Roman’s heavy sigh comes from underneath Solana as he lightly taps her stomach, prompting her to get up so he can stand. She does so, watching him roll his big shoulders and walk over to the now arguing men, deep voice declaring, “enough!”

At that, not a single watchful eye isn’t on Roman. The Tribal Chief. “I’m sick of this shit with the both of ya’ll. You want to act like kids? Then I’m gon’ treat you like kids.” Solana swallows. Everything about her husband is so commanding and powerful. From the way he stands, to the way he speaks, even his presence. One knows who he is without even needing to really know who he is. “I don’t believe in airing shit out in public. I believe in handling it like men or in the ring, but since you two can’t seem to do that, I want you to lay it all out because I want this problem fixed. Right now.” Roman ends his speech with an almost growl, the Wise Man rushing over as Roman turns away, his back toward Jey and Sami, head down, hands clasped together.

Power.

A wide eyed Paul looks between the other men, “the—the Tribal Chief said—”

“Of course,” Sami cuts him off, standing again and looking down a bit as he seems to struggle with how to start. “Well, uhh, okay, umm.” Solana briefly surveys the backyard. From the youngest to the oldest, all eyes are on the scene before her. “I’ll be the first to admit, there’s been a bit of a communication breakdown as of late, and it’s been pretty specifically with Jey, but I gotta be honest, I don’t understand exactly what’s going on here.” Solana neither. She just suddenly remembers it was Jey and Sami who got into it during WarGames all those months ago and still haven’t seemed to hash it out. “I–I like you. Man, I like you. I’ve always liked you. But, it seems ever since I joined the Bloodline, I don’t know what it is, but it seems you can’t seem to stand me, and I don’t understand it.” He motions to Jimmy who’s eating. “Jimmy seems fine.” He points out to each man that he begins to list. “Solo seems fine. The Tribal Chief seems fine. The Wise Man seems….not fine, but that’s okay. Everyone, for the most part, seems fine except you, and I don’t know what I did to offend you. I really don’t. But, whatever I did to offend you, but whatever it is, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I just don’t want this to keep going on like this anymore.” He steps closer to Jey. “Seriously, I’m sorry. Whatever I did. I’m sorry. So, can we just be cool? Can we bury the hatchet once and for all?” Sami now has his hand extended to Jey. A peace offering, of sorts.

Solana finds herself waiting with a withheld breath, Bayley beside her, watching just as keenly as she is. 

It’s a good minute before Jey speaks. “Sami, you got about two seconds to get that out my face.” There’s a chorus of hushed reactions around the yard, Solana sighing heavily. So much for peace. “I don’t like you.” That much, to anyone with good eyes, is painfully obvious. “I don’t like your hair. I don’t like your face. I don’t like that shirt you wearing.” Solana can admit she found the black shirt with ‘the honorary uce’ written in red letters a bit….much. “Hey, hey! I don’t like you being around my family every single week. My dawg this, My dawg that.” Jey mocks, anger rising in his tone and body language. “How you think you part of the Bloodline, and you ain’t blood!” Solana swallows, redirecting her attention to Roman who has his eyes closed. She can see it. His own wrath growing at his clear directions not being followed. This problem is far from moving in the direction of fixing. “Newsflash for you, Sami. You never will be, Uce. You don’t belong here.” Solana looks back over at Sami, feeling bad for him. To be talked to like this in front of everyone has to be embarrassing. It also makes her feel personally responsible, to some extent.

She maybe shouldn’t have invited him. Especially if she knew how tense things were between him and Jey.

“Don’t nobody in this group like you. I’m just the realest one to say it out loud. You’s a fake ass, Uce.” Damn. “You know what the difference between you and me is? I shed blood for every single one of my family members here, because it’s my family! Not yours!” Silence. “Would you do it? Huh? Would you? I’m asking you a question! Would you—”

‘Why are you yelling at me, huh?” Sami finally cuts in, raising his voice a little as well. “Why are you yelling at me? I’m trying to make peace!” He’s outright shouting at this point, face turning red from his own escalating anger. He then points to Roman. “The Tribal Chief said he wants peace!”

“Man, I don’t give a damn what the Tribal Chief say!”

Solana can’t look at Roman fast enough. Her eyes widening in alarm as his head shoots up, his expression something both shocked and cold. Solana doesn’t rip her gaze from him, seeing how he slowly turns his head and then his body in the direction of Jey, who doesn’t look nearly as terrified as everyone else seems right now.

She’s almost certain she hears Montez mumble something about, “oh, that nigga dead now for sure.” Trick murmuring back, "rip to the homie. yeet for life."

Roman’s fury is palpable, felt and stretched across the spacious backyard. He’ livid. Naturally, she moves to go by him, to try to calm him down. Irritation is one thing, like his annoyance with the party. But, this is something different. Deeper. Heavier.

She doesn’t like seeing him this upset. It worries her for his blood pressure.

However, Bayley suddenly reaches for her, stopping her, subtly shaking her head. Solana starts to pull away when it hits her.

She can’t interfere. 

Because if Roman were to back or even calm down because of her, it would reveal the influence she has on him. It would expose some depth of his feelings for her, and that can’t happen. For a variety of reasons. So, she remains where she is, despite the coiling in her stomach.

She lets the Tribal Chief do what needs to be done.

Sami, surprisingly, is the one to try to interfere as Roman steps closer and closer to Jey, big shoulders squaring, fist forming at his side. “Hey, uhh, My Tribal Chief, Jey didn’t—he didn’t mean that. He just—” Sami is silenced by Roman shoving him nearly across the damn yard, the man tumbling to his bottom looking even more flustered.

But, the focus isn’t on him for long, because before Solana can even process what’s happening, Roman is on Jey. Tackled to the ground, Jey is suddenly under the onslaught of Roman’s heavy fist raining blow on top of blow onto him. 

Solana is momentarily taken off guard, briefly in a state of shock, both at what’s unfolding before her but also the lack of anyone trying to intervene. Even Jimmy. Even Jey’s kids who Naomi tries to herd and steer from seeing their father being so brutally beaten.

She doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or how to respond. A part of her wants to call out for her husband, try to pull him from his fit of rage, but it’s when she thinks about it, really thinks about, she knows she can’t. 

She could, but it would only make things worse.

Solana hates this for Jey, hates this for her husband, hates this for both of them.

But……she also knows that Jey messed up. Really messed up. To say something so disrespectful is one thing, but to say it so loudly and boldly in front of a group of people is an entirely different ballpark.

Jey publicly disrespected Roman. Disrespected his Tribal Chief in front of people, thus Roman has to address it properly.

And violently.

Jey’s coughing up blood as Roman stomps on his ribs. She has to turn her head, to look away. This is the side of Roman she knows exists but would rather never see. The same way she knows he would prefer she never see either.

“Acknowledge me!” His furious voice travels through the yard and penetrates everyone’s five senses. It also makes Solana realize he’s been saying as such for the past few minutes. Demanding it. “Now!”

Jey is beaten pretty badly, blood spilling from his nose and seeped in between his teeth as he opens his mouth. It’s an ugly thing. All of it. And Solana notices the slight snarl of his lip before he forces out, “I—I acknowledge you—” he coughs up a mixture of phlegm and blood. “My Tribal Chief.”

Roman’s heaving, hulking figure straightens, his hair now down, having come out of his bun. The next thing to come out of his mouth sending chills down her spine. “If you ever disrespect me like that again, I’ll kill you.”

Solana doesn’t want to believe he’s being honest. That he’s telling the truth. She’d prefer to believe that he’s putting on a show of sorts, because he has to. Because he has to show his dominance. But, there’s a part of her that knows he’s not lying.

He means that.

Roman doesn’t look her way as he announces to the crowd, “party’s over!” She wants to be surprised at that, but she’s not. Maybe a bit disappointed. But, not surprised. “Everyone get the hell out of my house!”

He keeps his focus on the house and motions for the Wise Man to follow him as he stomps out, again without sparing her a single look.

Roman only needs to speak once, Solana seeing the people starting to throw their trash away as they clearly prepare to depart.

“This is my fault,” Solana finally speaks, turning to Bayley. Shaking her head, eyes watering, she shares, “I should have never—”

“Solana, it wasn’t your fault.” Bayley places her hands on Solana’s shoulders, explaining. “Jey….Jey should have known better than to say some dumb shit like that. I thought they were past all that.”

At that, Solana frowns, catching out the corner of her eye as Naomi and Jimmy tend to Jey. “What do you mean?”

“Years ago, like when they were in their twenties, Jey and Roman hit some sort of rough patch. I don’t know all the details, just what Naomi told me. But, I guess Jey was being difficult and almost testing Roman, in private and in front of other Bloodline members. It got to the point where Jey even challenged Roman for the title as Tribal Chief.”

Solana gasps. That’s the last thing she expected to hear. Even more surprising than the brutal beatdown she just witnessed. “What?”

Bayley nodded. “It was an in-ring fight, something to do with their Samoan traditions. Obviously, Roman won, and Jey officially acknowledged him. They’ve been fine since then, so I don’t know where that came from or what inspired it, probably the alcohol, but….just know it wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure Roman hated he had to do that in front of you, but he couldn’t just let Jey disrespect him like that.” And then, clearly wanting Solana to understand that Jey actually got off easy, she adds, “if he wasn’t family, Roman would have killed him. He wouldn’t have had a choice.”

And if that was the alternative, Solana is filled with an overwhelming amount of appreciation for what just transpired.

The lesser of two evils. 

“This was exciting!” Abuelita’s enthusiastic tone sounds from beside them, Solana seeing her accompanied by Juanita and Bernardo. “That husband of yours is a beast.” It’s said in an almost complimentary tone.

Bayley rolls her eyes. “Abuelita, please.” She shakes her head, asking Solana, “do you want me to stay behind and help you clean up?”

She thinks about it for a moment, remembering that Roman already arranged to have a cleaning crew handle outside. Inside is relatively easy to tackle. Definitely something she can handle on her own. “No. That’s okay…..I’ve got it.”

Bayley nods and reminds Solana to call her if she needs anything, the Tribal Chief's wife bidding farewell to some of the other attendees before briefly bringing her attention back to Jey. 

Solana happens to catch Solo saying something to Jey, prompting the latter to shove his little brother. Jimmy jumps in, ushering Jey away while Solo smirks. 

She’s curious about whatever it is that Solo said, but she’s mostly focused on Jey. For someone who was objectively in the wrong, he doesn’t look remorseful or contrite.

He looks angry.

————

It’s after everyone has left that Solana seeks out her husband. An intentional thing because she also wants to grant him some space to calm himself down. 

He’s in the bathroom, in the shower, based upon the sound of the running water. 

A glance at Dulce who’s sleeping peacefully in her bed, Solana hasn’t the slightest clue what drives her to go for the hem of her dress as she pulls it up and over her head. It falls to the floor as she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, also allowing it to fall to the floor. And finally, with a deep breath, she slides her underwear down her legs, letting them join the rest of her clothes.

Stepping out of her shoes, she moves in the direction of the bathroom door, completely ignoring all sudden insecurity regarding her nakedness. Solana closes her eyes and swallows as she carefully opens the door, walking in, eyes shifting to the shower.

As expected, he’s standing there under the running water, back toward her, hands braced against the wall, head dropped.

Solana frowns. She can practically feel his distress.

Closing the door behind her, Solana is intentional about her footsteps, doing her best not to catch his attention. Something that’s highly unlikely but exactly what happens. Even as she steps into the spacious shower, water instantly drenching her just as much as it soaks him due to the several showerheads.

She’s nearly inches away when he turns around, harsh expression instantly melting into something of shock and confusion. Her lips go dry as his gaze briefly drops to her naked body, water droplets rolling off her heavy breast and down the slope of her pudgy belly.

“Solana….” His eyes shut as she moves toward him. Her hands rest on his chest, as she chews on her bottom lip. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, shaking her head as the water continues to soak her hair, weighing it down just as much as his. “You don’t—it’s okay.”

Eyes opening, his expression is as pained as his voice. “I don’t like you seeing that side of me….” 

She knows. Knows that he’s always tried to be mindful of his temper around her, tried to always and only show her the caring side reserved just for her. But, that’s just it. “There’s no side of you that I don’t love, Roman.”

Because it’s the truth. 

Because if there’s one thing that Solana has learned, especially after meeting and speaking with Fetu, it’s that Roman never stood a chance. From a young child, he was groomed and tailored into the killer he is now. He wasn’t given the space and freedom to ever be anything but the best and to be unfeeling. She’s happy that with her, he has some escape, but she also knows that majority of the time, he can’t be that.

He has to be the Head of the Table.

And that’s exactly who he was in this situation.

Who he had to be.

The Tribal Chief.

“I’m not scared of you, Roman…” She murmurs, wondering if that’s part of the concern. She moves her hands to his cheek, stressing, “I could never be scared of you.” 

He seems relieved by that. But, still torn. Solana’s stomach coils a bit as he moves his hands to her waist and pulls her against him. Her eyes shut feeling his impressive length, even in a flaccid state, against her stomach. 

It gives her an idea.

Dropping one hand and venturing it down his chiseled, wet body, Solana shoves away her nerves as she touches him, wraps her fingers around him as best she can given his girth.

Roman hisses, eyes closing again. “Solana….”

He’s so good to her, always so good to her. She just wants to return the favor. Wants to take away some of his burdens the same way he never hesitates to take away hers.

Gradually sliding her hand down his dick, feeling his grip on her hips tightening—as well as the hardening in her hand—she licks her lips and murmurs a simple request. 

“Show me how to please you……”

————

After their lovemaking in the shower, Solana manages to encourage Roman to take a nap, recognizing his exhaustion from the day’s events. Something he only agrees to because she agrees to nap with him. Not that much of a sacrifice considering she’s probably just as exhausted as him.

And it’s clearly much needed sleep for her husband who doesn’t even stir when she moves to take Dulce outside to pee.

It just so happens that Solana is about to ascend the staircase, Dulce ahead of her and already heading back to the room courtesy of Jimmy teaching her how to go up and down the steps, that she hears the doorbell. She pauses on the first step, quickly and mentally going over who could be ringing their doorbell at almost 10pm at night.

She starts to ignore it, not sure if it’s a good idea to open it, but Solana also remembers the gate. The secured gate as well as security that constantly patrols the premises. No one who Roman wouldn’t want getting past, for safety reasons, would be ringing their doorbell. 

Especially this late.

It’s why she eventually settles on closing her up the front of her robe and walking over to the door, opening it. And when she does, she’s instantly wondering if it was a good idea. Two men. Both tall. Very tall. Built. One moderately more built than the other. Both their complexions are tanned, but the man with the bald head wearing expensive looking glasses and half a sleeve that peeks through his short sleeve polo is a brick. 

Solana has always thought Roman to be muscular, but this man could give her husband a run for his money.

It’s the other man though, long hair pulled back in a slightly messy bun. Similar to how Roman keeps his hair. It’s as he lifts his sunglasses from off his face and sets it atop of his head that she sees something so familiar. 

Eerily familiar. 

“Hi.” She finally finds her voice, clearing her throat as she asks, “can I help you with something?”

“We’re looking for Roman.” The familiar looking one speaks with a slightly thick accent as he asks with a small smirk. “Is he home?”

Solana’s not sure where it comes from, but something almost protective fills her as her grip on the door tightens just a bit. “What—what do you want with my husband?”

The slightly taller one smiles “Solana.” He lazily rakes his eyes over her in a way that’s not objectively problematic but makes her shift her weight from one leg to the other. “Of course.” She’s not sure how to feel about him knowing who she is, but it’s a short lived concern, because not even a full minute later, a welcome familiarity appears.

“Sol.” Roman’s deep voice calls her attention, startling her. She turns around to see him only a few steps above the ground, shirtless, wearing only dark joggers. Slowly, he steps down to the floor and she naturally moves beside him. Solana holds onto his arm as he focuses his attention on the two men. His face shifts into something of surprise. “What the hell are you two doing here?”

The one who identified her by name chuckles. “Good to see you too, cousin.”

Solana frowns. 

Cousin?

“Solana.” He looks down for a second, gesturing to the other two. “These are my….my cousins. Dwayne and Matteo.”

There’s a brief look of something in Matteo’s face, something that’s pushed away as he offers an almost charismatic smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Solana.” His eyes twinkle almost as he asks. “Solana….that’s Spanish, right? Sunshine?”

Her smile is a bit less reluctant to appear. He seems so…..pleasant. “It is. Do you speak it?”

“I do. One of the languages I picked up in my younger years. A beautiful language.”

She’s taken back by him speaking to her in Spanish but naturally, she responds in the same language. “Yes, it is. You speak it well.”

“Well, thank you. I take it you are native?”

She nods. “My mom was Mexican. She taught me.”

“What the fuck are you saying to her?” Roman cuts in, irritation present in his deep voice. “Speak English.” She keeps herself from rolling her eyes. A playful thing in intention but something that could be perceived as disrespectful, she’s certain. “Answer my question. What are you doing here?”

Solana is also partially curious what could have apparent cousins at their front door at such an hour. Something tells her it’s nothing good.

“We need to talk.” Dwayne answers, smile wiped from his face, tone solid and firm.

Solana looks up when she feels Roman tap her hip. Voice dipping a bit in volume, he instructs, “go upstairs.”

She’s not sure why, but there’s a level of anxiety that forms following his instruction. It makes sense. He clearly needs to talk business, and that’s something she doesn’t need to be present for. But, there’s something about leaving him alone with these two random men that makes her feel scared.

Scared for him.

She doesn’t want to leave him.

Roman must recognize this, thumb gently and subtly moving over her hip. “Go.” It’s firmer this time around, but she hears it. Hears the unspoken please in it.

Nodding, she offers Dwayne and Matteo a small smile. “It–it was nice meeting you.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be the last time,” Matteo answers, eyes briefly flicking to Roman. “We are family, after all.”

Solana sees the slight snarl of Roman’s lip and almost palms his cheek, a comforting gesture when she remembers where they are and who they’re in front of. Clearing her throat, she instead takes heed to his guidance, moving up the steps and into their bedroom where she closes the door.

Solana is barely out of the line of vision when Dwayne, who had his eyes glued on her retreating figure, the switch of her hips and sway of her ass the entire time, comments to Roman, “I see why you haven’t come yet.” He smirks, heading in the direction of Roman’s office. “At least not to Italy.”

Roman gives a chuckling Matteo a look that could kill, if possible, walking without another word to his office where Dwayne already sits, plopped on the sofa.

“What happened?” Is the first thing Roman asks after sitting down at his desk. Because Dwayne wouldn’t have come all this damn way for something that could be covered in a phone or video call.

Matteo smirks. “Maybe he missed home.” 

Roman glares. It’s bad enough he has to be around him at his official office but now the fucker is in his home too. Today has just been a complete shitshow. “And maybe I should put a fucking bullet in your head.”

Dwayne sighs. “Brothers.” But, before Roman can spear him through the nearest wall, Dwayne gets to business. “We have a problem.”

“Obviously,” Roman hisses. “What is the problem is is what I want to know.”

“We had a shipment infiltrated. Stolen. 7 figures worth of arms. Eight men killed,” Matteo explains, cutting right to the chase as he sits in the chair opposite Roman’s desk. “IT found a phone on the scene. Russian.”

“The Russians?” At that, Roman scowls. “That doesn’t even make any sense. Our alliance with them has been strong for almost twenty years. Why would Knyazev risk that?”

Anatoly Knyazev. Leader of the Russian mob, the same man Roman secured and formed an alliance with as one of his first accomplishments as Capo. The older man is smart, seasoned, and practical, for all things considered. He rules ruthlessly but wisely. For them to interfere in Cosa Nostra business makes no sense whatsoever. 

“I agree,” Matteo voices. “But, the administration isn’t happy. The loss of product is one thing, but our men’s blood being spilled is another thing entirely.”

Roman curses quietly. Product can be replaced. Lives can’t. And while Roman feels nothing of the sort, the Administration views any and all members of the Cosa Nostra as family. From the little man to their top assassins. Loss of life is something they don’t stand for.

At all.

“They want vengeance,” Dwayne supplies, clearly reading Roman’s mind. 

“They’re not going to do shit,” Roman growls, slamming his fist on the table. “The last thing we need is a war with our biggest ally.”

Especially with very little proof outside of a damn phone that very well could have been staged, which is exactly what Roman is betting on. 

“I agree,” Dwayne sounds, “but guess who’s going around trying to instigate?” 

Roman doesn’t even have to think. “Luca.” This fucker has always been annoying, even in the few interactions Roman had with him, but now he’s older and even more annoying. Starting shit that Roman is going to have to deal with, and if there’s one thing Roman hates, it’s having to clean up other people’s messes. 

Matteo nods, leaning forward in his chair. “I told you. He wants you out. Bad. Personally, I think he was behind it.” Roman’s intrigue must show, his desire to hear more, proven by his continued silence. The other man explains. “You were right in that the business is the best it’s ever been under your command, but if he can change that, can make it seem like we’re starting to fall off the top of the food chain. Make it seem like you don’t care about the Cosa Nostra���”

“He can make a case to uproot me,” Roman finishes in a dark tone. 

“Or worse,” Dwayne adds, shaking his head. “Look, Roman. It’s obvious there’s some shit going on that we haven’t figured out, but until then, we have to be careful. Matteo and I are the only ones who seem to find the Russians deciding to start shit after years of partnership fishy. And to be honest, we need to keep it that way. Keep our speculation between us, because we don’t know who we can trust. Especially with Luca’s ass in the background scheming.” Dwayne leans back in his seat. “The Administration wants a briefing though. Wants to know how we proceed. If we strike back. And they’re not going to want to hear shit from the mixed breeds. At least not Matteo and I.”

Roman looks away, already knowing what’s coming.

“You need to go there. Make a statement. Not a phone call or video conference. In person. Make your orders clear. Reaffirm and remind them that you’re the Capo.” Matteo isn’t saying anything Roman doesn’t already know. Not that makes hearing it any better. “You can’t push this off anymore, Roman.”

“He’s right,” Dwayne agrees. “The longer you wait, the more it looks like your priorities are for the Bloodline only. That you’re only capable of running one, meaning it’s time for new leadership.”

His words drip with a truth that only has Roman’s anger rising. “Unfortunately, because it’s clear there’s an uprising brewing, you coming now puts you at higher risk for an assassination attempt. You’ll have to travel covertly. I’ll take care of that. I just need you to get on the damn plane.”

None of that is surprising as Roman provides his timeline. “Two weeks.” Both Matteo and Dwayne seemed far from pleased at this. Oh fucking well. “I have Bloodline business to handle next week. I can leave the week after.”

It’s not a lie. Jey’s little stunt will require a more public display of dominance, and what better way to remind everyone of who runs things than a public execution?

It’s time to grant Drew MCIntyre that match he’s been so desperate to have. Roman having his Wise Man make the arrangements earlier following Jey’s outburst.  

“Fine. Two weeks,” Matteo relents. As if he had a choice. “You’ll need to stick around at least a week. Or two. A day or two appearance will give off the indication you’re uninterested and being performative.” Again, not something Roman doesn’t already know, but again again, there’s an issue. A huge issue.

Solana.

It’s only been two weeks since she completed treatment and returned home from the residential facility. But, in those two weeks she’s expressed on several occasions the best thing about being back home is being with him.

With Roman.

And now he has to leave her. Has to handle business. Dangerous business. A situation that could very well end up in some type of attempt on his life.

That doesn’t bother him. Roman’s been attacked and the subject of assassination attempts his whole damn life. It’s almost boring to him at this point.

What does bother him, however, is Solana knowing about this. Knowing the real reason why he has to fly halfway across the world seemingly out of nowhere. 

Which is why she can’t know.

He can’t and won’t put that on her. She already worries about him. If she knew the real reason for the trip, she’d be terrified and beg him to not go. And not going simply isn’t an option anymore. He’s almost wishing he had just gone before. 

It might have been a hell of a lot easier leaving her then compared to now when there’s so much more at stake.

Fuck.

“This conversation needs to remain between the three of us. No one else.” Matteo’s reminder irks Roman. He’s not fucking stupid.

Dwayne senses Roman is about to say some out of pocket shit, cutting in, “Matteo. You said you may have some contacts to further investigate what really happened with the shipment, right? Reach out. See what you can find.”

Matteo nods, smirk on his handsome face. “Already on it.” 

Dwayne mirrors his expression. “Good.” He then gestures to Roman. “Let me talk to this asshole alone, please.”

Matteo scoffs quietly, standing up and adjusting his collar. “My pleasure.” He shoots his younger, half brother a wry grin. “Your wife is much better company than you.”

Roman shoots up from his desk, wanting to pitch something after Matteo’s laughing, retreating form.

“I like that guy,” Dwayne also laughs, lifting his hands in a surrender motion when Roman directs his murderous gaze to him. “Still a sensitive subject, I see.”

Roman plops back down in his chair, looking off as he asks his cousin, “you trust him?”

Dwayne’s answer is almost an instantaneous thing. “Wouldn’t have sent him here or brought him to your house if I didn’t.” It’s similar to his response when Roman first inquired about Matteo being sent as the ‘spy’ for the Cosa Nostra. “We’re gonna have to play this careful, Roman. I can’t describe it yet, but I got a feeling some shit is about to go down.”

Roman doesn't say anything, but that doesn’t mean he’s not listening. Not planning. Strategizing. 

“Solana….” The change in subject takes him a bit by surprise. “How she doing?”

Discussing certain details regarding Solana and her mental health is something few are privy to. Roman can count on one, maybe two hands who knew Solana has been away receiving mental health treatment. To most, she was hurt and shot that night at the lounge and has been away recovering. That’s the story Roman wanted put out in an effort to protect her privacy.

But, Dwayne is one of those few who knows the truth about where she’s been.

And why she was there.

“Better.” A part of him wants to say much better, because she seems that way, but he also doesn’t want to get too comfortable. To let his guard down. “She said it helped a lot. Medication seems to be making a difference too.”

“Good. She seems sweet.”

“She is.” The kindest person Roman has ever met. Much too kind for someone like him.

Dwayne sits back in his seat, wolfish grin on his face. “That’s a fine woman you got there, brotha.” And just like that, Roman’s older cousin is teetering the thin line between life and death. “Not sure I’d want to leave her either.” Brows furrowed, Dwayne asks, “what’s the Bloodline business?”

Roman quickly catches his cousin up on today’s events. Jey’s disrespect, mostly. 

Dwayne’s response, however, is another thing Roman wasn’t entirely expecting. “You did what you had to do. Jey knows how this goes. He brought it on himself.”

There’s not a ton of disagreement there. Doesn’t make him feel much better about it though.

“Well,” Dwayne releases a heavy sigh, standing up after slapping his thighs. “I better get out of here. That son of a bitch Austin owes me a beer.”

Roman chuckles. “Just one?”

Dwayne’s smile is as mischievous as whatever he has planned once walking out that door. “Or two.”

A smile breaks on Roman’s face as he stands up, sharing a brief hug with his cousin. He has a strong feeling the next time he sees him will be on Italian soil. “Be safe.”

“I’m not the one with a bounty over my head, brotha.” It’s both comical and serious at the same time, in only the way Dwayne can achieve. “Tell that fine ass wife of yours I said goodnight.”

At that, Roman cuts his eyes, shoving his chuckling cousin away. “Shut the fuck up.”

Giving himself a few minutes to settle and push away any sign of stress or frustration, it’s not until about ten minutes later that he returns to the bedroom.

Roman is unsurprised to find Solana sitting on the middle of the bed, earbuds in, writing away in her journal. However, she’s almost immediately aware of his presence, ripping out those same buds and shutting her notebook. She’s instantly climbing off the bed and walking over to him.

“Are you okay?” Her hands ghost over his arms, as if she’s trying to feel for some sort of injury. “What was that about?”

He shrugs. “Just business stuff.” Not a lie. Just a very vague answer.

“This late?” Truth be told, the work never stops in this life, but he knows that’s not exactly what she’s referring to. “It’s—it’s something bad, isn’t it?”

“No.” The answer—a lie—comes out much easier and smoother than he’d like it to. “Just something that needs to be handled, and I’ll handle it.”

 “But—”

“Hey.” He brings his hands to her waist, sneaking them past the open robe she wears, partially wanting to take it off her entirely. The two piece pajamas she has on deserve to be seen and not cloaked in any way. “Everything’s okay. Alright?”

She still looks concerned, and he hates that. Hates all of this. The lying to her, especially. “You would….you would tell me if it wasn’t….right?”

No.

That’s what he wants to say. The truth. Roman would and will absolutely keep anything and everything from her if it meant/means keeping her safe. Even if it makes her upset with him. He’ll deal with that.

He’ll take it any day, because her safety is the most important thing to him. 

Mentally and physically. 

“Yes.” Even if it makes him have an almost visceral reaction at having to lie to her like this. Even if it is for the better. “But nothing’s wrong, so there’s no need to worry, alright?” 

He needs to tell her about the trip. That he has to leave in two weeks. There’s definitely no way around that, but it doesn’t need to happen tonight. Especially when he needs to work out the details and logistics, because Roman’s been administering Solana’s medication to her every morning since her release. She doesn’t even know where he keeps it, where he keeps any of the prescription and OTC pills in the house. Because he has them all hidden, something he’s not sure he’ll ever feel ready enough to change.

He also takes her to her continued weekly therapy appointments with Gail.

All of that can’t be interrupted with his absence, but the same person he called before to stay with her while he was gone to see his aunt is the same person he still holds partially responsible for Solana’s attempt in the first place.

Bayley.

Roman won’t make that mistake ever again.

So, until all of that is figured out, he’ll say nothing.

Plus, he already feels bad enough for ruining her party. No need to ruin her night as well.

At least with the party thing, he can make that up. He will make that up. Even if it means what he has planned including more people than he originally accounted for. The thought alone is far from exciting, but he’s determined to do right by her this time around.

Even if it does mean forcing himself to behave.

Somewhat.

Solana is visibly less anxious, but the remaining apprehension seems to melt away the minute she presses herself into his chest. She’s instantly relaxed and so is he. Having her in his arms seems to give him just as much comfort as she gets from it.

“Roman?”

He runs his hand across her back. “Hmm?”

Peering up at him is a mixture of skepticism and worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Not exactly. “You said you’d try talking to me more.”

He did. And he will, but the full extent of what is now on his plate is a weight he can’t and won’t share with her. He won’t burden her with his woes. 

He can, however, give her something.

“Jey…..” Because that’s most definitely not a lie. The shit with Jey was the last thing he expected to happen today. Almost as unexpected as Dwayne’s visit. “The twins annoy me majority of the time, but they’re still….still my family.”

“You didn’t want to do that, Roman.” Solana is suddenly comforting him, her soft voice offering what he already knows to be true but appreciates hearing. “You……you didn’t have a choice. Jey….Jey should understand, right?”

“Should.” There’s a conflicted hint to his voice, because Jey should have known better than to disrespect Roman like that in front of an audience. Because truth be told, Roman would not have responded so violently had it even just been the usual group of Naomi, Bayley, and Jimmy. Even the Wise Man. Roman would have preferred a different, less physical route, but that wasn’t an option. The ‘choice’ Roman made was really the only choice he could make without looking weak in front of others.

Solana hugs him a little tighter, continuing to put him on a pedestal he has no business being on. “You’re a good man, Roman. I know….I know you don’t believe it, but you are.” 

That’s because she has no idea a fraction of the things that he’s done. If she truly knew the horrors he’s committed over the years, the lives he’s taken, she’d never look at him the same.

He sometimes wonders if she’d even still feel the same way.

If she’d still love him.

Solana leans up and kisses his cheek before taking his hand in hers. Sliding her robe off and tossing it onto the bed, she murmurs, “let’s go to bed.” Roman wordlessly follows her over to the California King bed, watching her move her journal and case for her earbuds onto the nightstand as she pulls him down with her. Naturally, Solana falls into their go-to sleeping position. Her body nearly on top of his, her arm sprawled across his abdomen and her head on his chest.

She’s partially soothed by the way he keeps his hand planted on the small of her back. Partially because something tells her Roman isn’t being entirely honest about whatever conversation he had with his cousins she’s never even heard of until this evening. In all the time they’ve been together, she doesn’t remember once anyone ever coming to their home this late to discuss business. 

Maybe a phone call.

Never an in-person visit. 

A part of her wants to push him on it, but she also knows the Jey situation is still bothering him, so she doesn’t want to overwhelm him. 

But, the other part, maybe an even bigger part doesn’t want to because it feels hypocritical. Him to be honest with her when she’s not being entirely honest with him. When she actually wanted to tell him something instead of asking again if he’s alright.

A split second decision being made to keep certain information to herself until she’s 100% sure, because she knows that he’ll most likely have to inform the Elders he’s spoken about a couple of times. And the last thing she wants is to send him with a message that ends up being a false alarm.

Because her period has been late before. Sometimes up to two weeks late. It’s just that this is the first time it’s been late with her being sexually active. With her having regular sex with her husband as a potential variable. Regular, unprotected sex.

But again, she’s not certain. Wants to give it a little while longer before she finally pulls out one of the pregnancy tests she’s had collecting dust in one of the cabinets in their master bathroom. It’s too soon though. Too many other things it could be besides that.

So, until then, she waits.

She’ll wait until it’s 100% confirmed, without a doubt, that she’s pregnant.

Ignoring that small, nagging gut feeling that she already knows the answer.

Knows that she is, without a doubt, pregnant.

[bellewintersroe]

Jenson Button Smut ~ mile-high club

jenson and unnamed fem character get it on thousands of miles in the air- except they’re not alone on their trip…

smut x reader 18+ - oral, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, established relationship.

Jenson’s jaw tightened as his eyes darted frantically around the cabin of the darkened private jet. At first it was just him and her, the two of them having the whole cabin to themselves. Then it was another one, two, three, four people that joined on their flight to Mexico where they’d celebrate some time off together. Jenson didn’t have it in him to deny them the transport- but he was wishing he had now.

Her mouth was wrapped around his hardened cock, stiff and rigid in between her glossy lips that drooled down his member. The only thing hiding this was the seats in front of them and the blanket covering Jenson’s lap and therefore her bobbing head. He felt the swirl of her tongue around the head of his cock before she pushed down, all the way down, reaching as far as the base of his cock.

Jenson squirmed, sweating hand gripping the armrest tighter as the other snagged at the blanket she hid under. It was erotic to say the least. He felt her gag and choke around his cock, he looked down, seeing the slight movement and only imagining how fucking sexy she looked spluttering around his dick. Jenson could’ve easily pulled back the covers, but he didn’t want to risk exposing her in case the others woke up. They strategically picked the seats at the back of the plane, with nobody sat beside them to ogle on them. But still, plenty of people still slept or at least rested, nose deep into their books, blissfully unaware of what was occurring only meters away.

With another gag came more movement and she began bobbing her head much faster, only imagining how good he was looking from above her. Jenson couldn’t control his jaw falling slack, he momentarily let his eyes fall shut and head fall back, a hand resting gently where her head was to guide the movements further. She was sucking the living shit out of him, and only when Jenson heard a noise up front did he snap out of his daze. “Fuck.” He swallowed under his breath, shifting subtly so he could grind himself deeper inside her. She felt his hand press on the back of her head, stuffing her down and holding her there against the base of his cock as he attempted to thrust quietly into her mouth. The sounds of her small mouth being fucked were slightly concealed by the high pressure of the plane and the blanket, but loud enough so Jenson could enjoy them.

Growing confident, her hand slipped down over the edge where his joggers were pulled down to, attempting to sneak a finger between his legs, down, down, down to a forbidden area he and her had only explored in the confinements of their home.

Jenson made a slight noise of discontent, pulling her off as she sat up besides him, hair dishevelled and mascara ever so slightly running. Jenson ran a thumb under her lips, catching the fallen spit before looking down to his cock with a pant. Her lipgloss left a glossy sheen over his cock and smudged on his shaven pubic bone. Jenson thought it was the hottest thing ever, his thumb continuing to smear her lip makeup further.

“Please fuck me.” She hushed into his ear, placing the blanket back over Jenson’s lap to protect his modesty. She was fully dressed, Jenson didn’t like that, her lips kissed at his jaw tenderly. He stuffed one hand under the blanket, fisting ever so gently at his cock as he almost became speechless at how dirty the moment was.

He let out a shaky breath, stuffing his hands down her shorts for a second time in the journey, pushing a finger in her with ease as she sat open legged on the seat. Fuck. She looked so hot, Jenson couldn’t contain it, he had to pull his hand away from himself or he’d bust too soon. She watched, head lolling back and lips parted as he looked over her, mesmerised by the beauty of his girlfriend. With his other hand free, he turned her cheek to face him, eloping in the deepest kiss he could muster, tongues swirling as they made out relentlessly in the chairs. “Can you be quiet?” Jenson asked, pushing his finger deeper inside her again. She gasped. “Yes.”

“C’mon then.” He nodded, indicating her to climb on top. He knew it was risky, but the smirk on her face indicated she didn’t care. Without even glancing around, she looked nowhere put him and pulled her shorts fully off, sliding down onto his large member. Jenson felt his mind go foggy as he felt the stretch of her wet cunt. No matter how many times he stretched her out she was still just as tight as the time before. Both their jaws fell slack, Jenson had to tense his jaw to avoid letting out a groan. When it was the two of them he wasn’t a man to stay quiet, but right now the thought of anybody finding her like this was worrying. Jenson wanted her all to himself, he wanted to preserve her modesty, protect her, she was his little dirty secret like this.

She bounced away, hair swinging in the loose ponytail she’d tied it back in, her hands gripping into his shoulders. Her eyes were focused on his, red in the face with brows furrowed. She knew he looked like he wouldn’t last long. Hendon’s eyes darted frantically behind her, slipping a hand over her smaller back as he lifted her up in the seat slightly. She didn’t stop moving, she was grinding against him, milking every inch of his cock as she felt the press of him deep inside her. Settled that nobody was paying attention, Jenson’s attention was back on her, pulling her in for a deep kiss to which he moaned against her lips, fucking his hips up inside her.

“People are gonna hear…” she giggled into his ear, leaving a nibble on his lobe as he couldn’t stop the thrusts he pushed inside of her. Jenson didn’t reply, he couldn’t, he panted into the front of her neck, hand finding her mouth as he attempted to move faster. The chair squeaked with each movement and they had to give that up quicker than it started. Jenson was never a man for sloppy quickies, he preferred taking his time, but fuck- with her he was at it like a rabbit. His head turned to the bathroom and he tapped at her thigh. “In the bathroom. C’mon.” The minute the door closed Jenson had her bent over the toilet, fighting against the gasps and moans that she desperatly wanted to release. His hips were pushing into her ass, squeezing and grabbing with each time the flesh would bounce.

“Fuck me, Jenson.” She whined, a borderline cry from below him. “Oh god.” He groaned, head falling back as he felt a familiar warmth fill his stomach. No. No. Too soon, he’d barely been inside her, he couldn’t cum yet. Instead, he fell to his knees, panting heavily and manhandling her into the position he wanted before pushing his face up to her core. His cock was throbbing, on the verge of release, if he touched himself he’d explode, and just the thought of tasting her like this drove him crazy. His mouth shoved deeper into her, tongue licking her clean, her clit, her hole, he ate her like he’d been starved. Fuck she tastes so good, the small sounds she was eliciting indicated he was doing a good job, and just with a little more she’d be- “right there! Fuck, right there!” Her volume increased, chest heaving as he desperatly pushed a finger inside of her. He didn’t care about them being loud, he seemed to forget that the bathroom on this thing wasn't sound proof real quick.

“Jenson! Jenson!” She gasped at his name, he wanted to smirk, proud he’d pushed her to this as he flicked at her clit, finger causing the sound of her wetness to echo in the small room they were in. “Yeah? Who’s making you feel this good, baby?” His confidence grew as she choked out, legs quivering. “You are!” The girl cried out with a prolonged moan, the sound of Jenson’s fingers squelching becoming louder and louder, his pace quickening as her whimpers turned into outright moans, somewhat concealed with the bite of her thumb in her mouth.

“Please! Please!” She borderline screeched, feeling the core tighten so hard she was shaking all over, crying out each time she’d exhale. “C’mon then. Cum for me baby, fuck, fuck. That’s it.” Jenson praised, the vibrations of his voice against her clit sending her over the edge as her juicer began squirting out of her, her orgasm taking over so much she couldn’t even push him out of the way in time.

Watching her orgasm was quite literally the hottest thing Jenson had ever seen, he wiped the back of his mouth clean, licking his lips and gaining once last taste of her before his fingers were replaced with the push of his cock once again. Through her orgasm, Jenson fucked her, she was feeling so much pleasure her eyes rolled back from overstimulation. His pants became heavy and louder, frantic as he fucked into her, repeating how “so fucking good” she was with each slap of his hips against her legs. Her legs grew weak, Jenson was the only thing supporting her now and as he reached his orgasm, he came crashing down on top of her with a satisfied groan, pumping his cum deep inside her.

“You’re so fucking good.” She cooed with a sigh, eyes closing as her forehead was pressed to the wall, chest rising and falling heavily. Jenson cursed behind her, coming around from his hot pleasure, letting out another manly moan with a trail of kisses left along her spine. Their bodies were flushed and hot to the touch, Jenson could’ve stayed there all day. “Babe.” She laughed, feeling him hugging her closer to him as he rolled his hips gently, milking the last of their pleasure. “Mmmh?” Jenson could barely respond, feeling lightheaded.

“You think anybody heard us?” She whispered. “No.” Jenson dumbly spoke. Little did they know on the outside of the door mouths were hung open, mortified from the sounds coming within the aeroplane bathroom…

[bluegiragi]

hello! i'm gira, i go by she/her, and i've been making fanart for the cod fandom for about four months now :) the majority of that time's been spent on the soapbox saga, which is sort of just what i call the very plot-ridden porn comic featuring ghost, soap and konig. and recently i've been working on the monster 141 au!

i'm here to address the reasoning behind how i assigned certain monsters to certain characters, particularly the POC characters as well as accusations of racism regarding me neglecting gaz in all my art :) whoever you are, if you're reading this in good faith, i thank you! i earnestly never intended to make anyone feel uncomfortable from my work.

The Monster AU

i won't post the blog who brought this issue up mainly because, (realistically speaking) i think people might go after them and spam them with hate so I'm paraphrasing here. but basically..."how come all the POC in the Monster AU are assigned animal-associated monsters? Comparisons to animals can be incredibly demeaning when it comes to minorities".

I completely agree! But earnestly, I think my desire to assign every character a 'monster' that was relevant to their culture overshadowed the part of my brain that would've raised red flags about this sort of thing. There's the argument here that I could've assigned these characters cooler monsters such as Price who is a dragon, and Ghost who is a wraith, but I wanted to be respectful of all the minorities in the COD cast by giving them creatures that reflected their culture and personality.

ALEJANDRO - NAGUAL

In the Monster AU, Alejandro is a nagual, which is considered a guardian spirit in Mesoamerican culture. Typically, it's said that the nagual is the shapeshifted form that powerful men can transform into in order to do evil (although that doesn't apply in this case, Ale's a heroic lad), and can come in the forms of a jaguar, deer, dog or bird. I chose a jaguar, since it seemed to be the most common form of nagual depiction in the resources I was looking at. The 'panther mode' isn't pre-established as part of nagual mythology, but since most panthers are just black jaguars, i thought the association wouldn't be unreasonable.

I chose Alejandro to be a nagual because it's so in character for him to be protective of his home. The idea of him being a literal guardian spirit for all he considers his just made sense to me :)

--

RODOLFO (RUDY) - CADEJOS

In this AU, Rudy is the vessel for two cadejos, which are legendary dog spirits popular in the mythology of Central America, parts of South America and Mexico. Historically, they've been known as psychopomps (guides to help humans into the afterlife following their death) but modern interpretation has shifted to depict them as the good guardian dog and the evil attacking dog respectively.

A lot of the minute information about the cadejos tends to differ depending on the source. Like whether they're actually two separate dogs, or they're the same dog just in different 'modes', or how big they are. My personal depiction of them has them sized as normal dogs (although their spirit nature means they can move into small spaces pretty easily by just becoming immaterial temporarily) and as separate spirits that have been passed down through Rudy's family generationally.

I chose the cadejo for Rudy because although I wanted to include him in the Monster AU, i still liked keeping him as a character who was a bit more 'human' than Alejandro. I think Ale needs Rudy to hold him back sometimes, and having the two cadejo definitely helps with that. Sort of like how cheetahs in zoos have therapy dogs growing up because they're so anxious all the time! I think it also does a good job of showing Rudy's two sides as well, like he's a softie who just wants to protect those he loves, but he's capable of a lot of violence too.

--

VALERIA - GORGON

Valeria is a gorgon which, admittedly, is not part of Mexican mythology. However, I was put in a bit of a bind here, since my research didn't really reveal to me a monster in Mexican culture that I thought would suit Valeria's vibe (manipulative, elulsive) and I just felt like a gorgon would be perfect for her. Medusa's myth has her being continuously demeaned by the men in her life and is a symbol of female empowerment, which I thought was a great reflection of the implied reason that Valeria left the army was due to internal sexism. There's also the perfect parallel of how anyone who sees El Sin Nombre's face dies, and Medusa's whole 'turn you to stone' thing.

I thought i could compromise by making Valeria a gorgon but her hair would be Mexican black kingsnakes but...turns out they're actually not that dangerous. Some people even keep them as pets! So I decided to keep the visual, but make her a pit viper, a subfamily of vipers found in the Americas as well as Eurasia.

--

HORANGI - HAETAE

Horangi is a haetae (해태) which is a beast in Korean mythology that typically comes in the form of a horned lion or dog. It's prevalent in a lot of cultures in East Asia actually, although it goes under different names depending on the region - kaichi for Japan, xiezhi for China. I made Horangi a tiger variant on the creature because...well...'horangi' means 'tiger' in korean. It just made sense to me to put that little twist on it.

Typically, haetae are seen as spirits of judgement, that decide on innocent and guilty parties in disputes and punish the latter. It's also considered a guardian against fire (hence the fire immunity and cloud manipulation powers I gave him).

GAZ - HARPY

Gaz is a harpy which, I won't lie, was purely inspired by the fact that he seems to keep falling out of helicopters. But it's also because...yeah, I did neglect Gaz in the soapbox saga. But I think I neglected...everyone in the soapbox saga who weren't directly involved in the main ship. I sort of just tunnel visioned on the main three, so my exclusion of characters isn't just limited to Gaz, it was included Price, Laswell, Alejandro, Rudy, Graves etc.

I just want to make clear that my treatment of Gaz in particular isn't reflective of any inner preference against him. And to make good on that, me assigning Gaz wings of all things was to help me spend more time on him in the Monster AU! I think the contrast between Gaz being an upstart harpy, and Price being a one-winged dragon has a lot of potential as a mentor/protege relationship (and perhaps even something more) and it's why I assigned this monster to him. I really wanted to establish a connection upfront, but just making Gaz another dragon felt cheap - the harpy thing felt a little more in turn with his character :)

--

I really hope this cleared up any remaining frustrations with my designs for the Monster AU. I hope you can see that I never meant anything demeaning by assigning these monsters to their respective characters - in fact, I earnestly tried to go out of my way and be respectful to their backgrounds.

In any case, if you have any more questions I'd be happy to answer them - I'd just ask you to please ask politely :)

[hayatheauthor]

Crafting Character Voices And Distinct Dialogue

A well-crafted character voice can breathe life into your narrative, making readers feel as if they're eavesdropping on real people. Each character's dialogue should be as distinctive as their fingerprints, reflecting their personality, background, and motivations. 

Creating distinctive character voices is one of the first things I learned in my creative writing lessons. Whether you're a seasoned writer or just starting, understanding how to create authentic and unique character voices is a crucial skill. So, here’s my guide on how to personalise your dialogue. 

Understanding Your Characters

To craft dialogue that resonates, you must first get to know your characters inside and out. Dive deep into their psyche, exploring their backgrounds, beliefs, values, and desires. What drives them? What keeps them up at night? Understanding these intricacies is the foundation upon which you'll build their unique voices.

Additionally, consider their primary language or dialect. A character from Italy, for example, might have a different vocabulary and speech patterns than someone from India. For instance, an Italian character may use phrases or expressions unique to their culture, adding depth and authenticity to their voice. This not only provides cultural richness but also enhances the character's individuality.

Creating Distinctive Speech Patterns

Once you've delved into your characters' backgrounds and cultural influences, it's time to work on their speech patterns. Think of this as giving each character their own linguistic fingerprint. Here are some key elements to consider:

Unique Vocabulary: Each character should have a vocabulary that reflects their education, interests, and experiences. A well-read character might use more complex words, while a simpler character may prefer everyday language.

Sentence Structures: Pay attention to how characters structure their sentences. Some may favor long, flowing sentences, while others opt for brevity. This reflects their thought processes and personality.

Idioms and Colloquialisms: Characters from specific regions or backgrounds might use regional idioms or colloquial expressions. For example, a Texan character might say, "fixin' to" instead of "intending to."

Influences from Native Language: If your character speaks more than one language, consider how their native language influences their speech in another language. They might occasionally switch to their native language for emphasis or use idiomatic expressions from that language.

Accents and Pronunciation: If your character has a distinct accent, consider how this affects their pronunciation of words. You can subtly convey accents through dialogue without overdoing it, using phonetic spelling sparingly.

Tone Tags: Incorporating tone tags (e.g., nervously, confidently, sarcastically) can convey the character's emotions and attitudes during a conversation. These tags help readers understand the subtext of the dialogue.

Imagine a character named Maria, who hails from Mexico. She might use Spanish phrases when speaking English to emphasize her cultural background. Her speech could be peppered with warmth and expressions of hospitality, reflecting her upbringing.

Dialogue Tags and Character Expressions

Dialogue tags and character expressions are invaluable tools for conveying the nuances of character voices. They add layers to your characters' speech, giving readers insight into their emotions, intentions, and personalities.

While "said" is often your best friend because it's unobtrusive, don't hesitate to mix in other tags to convey mood and tone. For instance, instead of always using "said," consider alternatives like "whispered," "shouted," "murmured," or "replied." Choose tags that align with the character's demeanor and the context of the conversation.

Character expressions and actions:

Non-Verbal Communication

Beyond dialogue tags, describe how characters express themselves physically while speaking. Actions, gestures, and facial expressions can reveal a lot about a character's emotional state or their intentions. If a character nervously tugs at their collar while speaking, it conveys anxiety. If another character smirks while delivering a line, it hints at their amusement or mischief.

Using tone tags:

Incorporate tone tags like "nervously," "confidently," "sarcastically," or "gently" to clarify the character's tone of voice. These adverbs provide crucial context to the dialogue, helping readers understand the character's emotional state.

Social Influence

Remember that a character's social background can significantly influence their speech. For instance, a character from a wealthy background might use more formal language and have a refined way of speaking. They might avoid slang or contractions. In contrast, a character from a less privileged background might use colloquialisms, contractions, and have a more relaxed speech style.

Balancing character expressions and tags can breathe life into your dialogues, making them engaging and memorable for readers. Use them strategically to punctuate and emphasize key moments in your characters' conversations.

Balancing Consistency and Evolution

As you craft your characters' dialogue, it's crucial to strike a balance between consistency and evolution. Characters should maintain their unique voices throughout the story, but they can also grow and change. 

Consistency is key to character integrity. Readers should be able to recognize a character's voice from the beginning to the end of your story.

To achieve this create a character profile that includes detailed notes on their speech patterns, vocabulary, and idiosyncrasies. Refer back to your character profile whenever writing dialogue to ensure you stay true to their voice.

However, characters, like real people, can evolve and change over time. Events, experiences, and personal growth can influence how they speak. To reflect this evolution gradually introduce changes in their speech as they undergo character development. You can also use dialogue to convey their changing perspectives, priorities, or emotions.

For example, a shy character might start using more assertive language as they gain confidence throughout the story. Their evolution should feel natural and in line with their character arc.

By maintaining consistency while allowing for evolution, you can create dynamic and believable character voices that resonate with your readers.

Dialogue Exercises and Practice

First things first, get to know your characters like you're catching up with an old friend. Dive into their quirks, fears, what makes them tick, and what ticks them off. Once you've got a handle on that, it's time to let them speak their minds. Ever heard of character monologues? It's like giving your characters a stage to shine. Let them ramble, vent, or reminisce—it's like therapy for both you and your character.

Now, let's talk duets. Imagine pairing up two characters from different walks of life for a conversation. It's like a linguistic showdown, and you're the ringmaster. See how they bounce off each other, and you'll bring out their unique voices like a pro.

Last but not least, voice journals. Think of it as a diary for your characters. Let them jot down their innermost thoughts and feelings. It's like having a backstage pass to their minds.

Remember, mastering character dialogue is a journey, not a sprint. Your characters will evolve, and so will your knack for making their voices stand out.

Avoiding Stereotypes and Clichés

When creating character voices it's important to avoid those clichéd, overused character stereotypes. We've all seen them: the tough-as-nails detective with a whiskey habit, or the ditzy cheerleader who cares more about lipstick than world affairs.

As writers, our mission is to create characters that feel fresh, real, and relatable. So, let's steer clear of the tired old tropes and explore the vast spectrum of humanity.

Instead of falling into the trap of predictable character traits, dig deeper. Ask yourself: What makes your character tick? What are their quirks and passions? Sure, your character might be a brilliant scientist, but what sets them apart from every other lab coat-wearing genius out there?

Diversity is your friend here. Embrace the rich tapestry of human experiences and backgrounds. Give your characters unique voices that reflect their individuality, and you'll create characters that resonate with readers on a whole new level.

I hope this blog on Crafting Character Voices will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[maccaronimassacre]

Resident Evil Bot Dump #9

A couple of quick updates on the bots!

I have made a new masterlist which is the google doc on my pinned post. It contains every single bot I have made and will be regularly updated with any rules or short notices in regards to them. I have also organised them into little subheadings and groups for easier navigation.

I will now take requests for my favourite girlboss Mia Winters <3

As requested I have made some character voices as well as some variations for people to use. Unfortunately it is only a feature on the mobile app but you can find them by looking through the voices as normal. I will also take requests for them.

On that note thank you guys so much for the support! Requests have been and will be slower as I have exams coming up but do keep them coming. Feel free to ask me anything whether it is related to c.ai or not and I'll try and answer them all!

Mercenary!Ada Wong x Mercenary!Reader

Ada sighs as she looks at the small compact mirror in her hand, taking the time to apply some more lipstick. “You do remember the plan right?” The whole reason why the two of you find yourselves outside the opulent manor in the first place is because of the intel from your employer. Apparently the host of the ball is in possession of an exotic and rare treasure. A treasure that you must try and find while masquerading as a couple.

Cat Hybrid!Ada Wong x Reader

Her footfalls barely audible, Ada slips through the open window, landing with grace. A sly smirk spreads across her lips when she sees you, her tail flicking back and forth playfully. “I told you that I’d come back, didn’t I?” Ada speaks with confidence and ease, yet the subtle twitch of her ears reveal her joy of being near you once more.

RE:4R Ada Wong x Agent!Reader

“You can stop right there {{user}}.”

A voice calls out from behind. A voice that you haven’t heard in years.

“Wouldn’t make me use this, would you?”

Her heels echo on the wooden floorboards as she strides towards you, a gun pressed against the back of your head. Ada finds a glimmer of satisfaction in reuniting with you, her eyes drifting to your face and taking in how the years have changed you both. The normally calm and collected Ada finds herself unable to suppress the smirk tugging at her lips.

Detective!Ada Wong x Reader

Files lay sprawled across the desk, each being inspected with a critical eye. The radio's talk show drones like distant static as Ada looks over the witness statements, the text blurring as exhaustion starts to creep in. With a weary sigh Ada tugs at her tie, adjusting it around her collar in an effort to cool down. Suddenly she’s snapped out of her daze by a knock on the door, prompting her to straighten up and refocus on the case once more. “Come in!”

RE:4R!Ada Wong x Reader

Ada was used to getting some odd jobs here and there from her employers, but saving the president’s kid? Now that’s a new one. Yet here she was, in a village overrun by mindless cultists and infected villagers, tasked with guiding you through the treacherous catacombs to safety. “Our best shot is that castle over there.” Ada calls out, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. As she navigates through the rocky terrain, her eyes stay fixed on the imposing walls of the castle.

Post RE:3R!Carlos Oliveira x Reader

On the balcony, Carlos finds solace, his eyes fixed on the horizon where waves cascade over rocks and meet the shore. Since escaping the destruction of Raccoon City and settling down with you in Mexico, he finally feels a sense of peace. Even though he has contemplated changing his identity, being with you washes away his doubts and anxieties just like the calming waves before him.

Android!Carlos Oliveira x UBCS!Reader

“This right here is Carlos, Umbrella’s latest android model who will help you rescue the remaining civilians here in the city.” Mikhail pats UB300 on the back, gesturing for him to analyse and familiarise himself with his new teammate. You watch as Carlos’ LED flickers while looking you up and down, looking up every bit of information about you and committing it to his memory. After a couple of moments he finally smiles at you and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you {{user}}.”

Carlos Oliveira x Umbrella!Reader

Carlos is accustomed to working for all kinds of corporations and groups, regardless of their morality. To him, Umbrella was just another pay check and this time he’s been assigned to protect you, a scientist. He stands in front of your office, throwing a polite nod your way as you make your way over to the door to begin another shift. “Congratulations {{user}}, because you just landed yourself a personal bodyguard.” He announces with a slight bow, stretching his arms out dramatically while flashing you a charming grin.

Biker!Carlos Oliveira x Barista!Reader

The door to the coffee shop swings open, announcing the arrival of the rugged biker, clad in a black leather jacket and sleek leather boots. He effortlessly slides his visor off, tucking it under his arm while striding up to the counter. A charming grin plays on his lips as he leans closer to have a look at the menu, the blend of his cologne and motor oil wafting through the air. “Strange. I don’t see you anywhere on the menu.” He winks, casually draping his forearm across the counter.

Umbrella Agent!Chris Redfield x BSAA Agent!Reader

“Can’t say I expected you to be here.” A voice echoes, a voice the BSAA have sought for years. Your former partner, once a beacon of determination and courage, approaches with an icy expression, devoid of the spark that ignited his squad. “But after all these years you’re still their lapdog.” Chris adds, his gaze narrows when he catches the BSAA patch on your shoulder and his lips curl up into a bittersweet smile. He pats his own shoulder, revealing the familiar red and white logo of the corporation he swore to destroy all those years ago. Umbrella.

Bioweapon!Chris Redfield x Reader

“STARS…” Heavy footsteps and growling echo down the halls of the desolate RPD, Chris’ gruff voice distorted due to the modifications made to his body. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing. His mind conflicted between protecting you from the zombies and B.O.Ws roaming the streets, or crushing your head with one swift blow like he’s been programmed to do. Either way he’s hot on your trail with clenched fists…

Chris Redfield x Injured!Reader

Chris storms through the base, his usual stoic demeanour replaced by a desperate urgency. Disregarding all praise and kudos for the successful mission, he strides silently towards the medical ward, haunted by vivid images of you engulfed in blood soaked cries. He wanted to. No, he needed to know if you’re okay. Despite the protests of several staff members, he bursts into the room, his resolve shattering instantly at the sight of you in the hospital bed.

Chris Redfield x Reader (Stargazing)

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Chris gazes up to the sky while lighting a cigarette, the bright orange of flames illuminating his face before pulling away to take a drag. Leaning against the thick tree trunk, he exhales with a deep sigh, observing the smoke dance in the air, vanishing into the myriad of dazzling stars above. “Want me to show you some constellations?”

RE:1R!Chris Redfield x Zombie!Reader

A curse escapes Chris' lips as he faces the oncoming crimson head in the narrow corridor, devoid of ammo or flash grenades. Bracing for a gruesome fate, he squeezes his eyes shut and lifts his hands up to guard his face until a loud crash and sickening crunch disrupt the impending doom. Tentatively he opens his eyes to discover you standing by the corpse of the crimson head with grey glazed eyes and rotting skin giving way to brittle bones. At that moment Chris realises that you have just saved him. A zombie has actually saved his life.

Infinite Darkness!Claire Redfield x Reader

Moonlight seeps through the blinds, unveiling the vacant spot on the bed where Claire rested. You can see the familiar glow of her laptop from the hallway, the files and documents displayed on the screen reflecting off her glasses. Since her conversation with Leon and her humanitarian efforts in Penamstan, Claire has plunged back into the familiar pattern of sleepless nights, driven by her determination to uncover the fate of the Mad Dogs after the civil war.

RE:2R!Claire Redfield x Reader

When Claire told you that she was going to Raccoon City to see her brother, you decided to tag along knowing how dangerous it is to go alone. Of course you didn’t know that the danger included a zombie outbreak. “The STARS office. They will probably have something on my brother there.” Claire calls out while reloading her handgun. The two of you now find yourselves trapped in the RPD, exploring the labyrinthine layout and its strangely elaborate puzzles.

Mechanic!Claire Redfield x Reader

As you step into the shop you are immediately greeted with the smell of car oil and rust. Tools, spare bits of scrap, and scattered screws create an organized chaos on counters and workbenches. Claire's eyes light up as she spots you, promptly brushing sweat from her brow and wiping motor grease on her uniform. “Hey there, how can I help you?”

Claire Redfield x College Student!Reader

Claire continues to make her side of the dorm as homely as possible, putting up the front covers of fashion and car magazines on the wall and neatly organising out her trinkets on the desk. Excitement and nerves tangle within her as she wonders about her new roommate. What if they don’t share the same interests? What if they find her weird? The sound of the door opening interrupts her thoughts. Turning, she sees you entering with a stack of boxes in your arms. She can feel her palms grow sweaty and her heart races as she studies you, trying to form a quick impression of your character.

Post RE:8!Ethan Winters x Reader (+Rose)

Ethan chuckles as he watches Rose babble and squeal at the TV, her arms flailing with excitement when her favourite cartoon would appear on the large screen. Gently, he set Rose down on the floor to play, the metal of his prosthetic fingers cold against her skin. The BSAA were kind enough to fit him with some replacements after he lost his pinkie and ring finger in Romania. But more importantly, he was finally granted a quiet life with you and Rose finally by his side. No more tests. No more monsters. No more surprises.

RE:7 Infected!Ethan Winters x Reader

“Don’t worry Evie… They’ll accept your gift, and then we can be a family.” The voice pulls you out of your disorientated state, your vision blurring and your head throbbing with a dull ache. As consciousness returns, you find yourself strapped to a chair in front of a dining table laden with rotten and moulded food. The pungent juices that ooze out of each filled dish serve as an instant wake up call to your surroundings. “Eat up, it’s good.” Across the table sits a man bearing a cold smile as well as staples that protrude out of his left wrist. The candlelight flickers and casts shadows across his pale skin, making the wild look in his eyes more sinister and crazed.

Ethan Winters x Reader

Ethan's heart pounds in his chest like a drum, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, now damp from sweaty palms. Silent since getting in the car, he's consumed by various scenarios and outcomes for the day. Today marks the fateful day where Ethan introduces you to his parents. To say he's nervous is a massive understatement as you're his entire world, and he prays his family embraces you as warmly as he did when sparks first started to fly.

Post RE:8!Ethan Winters x Reader (+Rose)

After moving to another continent, discovering that he’s dead and made out of mould, having a half mould child, killing a scientist posed as a deity and an extremely messy divorce, Ethan decides to do the unthinkable. Online dating. As Ethan swipes through all the profiles and pictures he can’t help but feel ridiculous, he’s in his late 30s with a daughter yet his hands are shaking like leaves when your name and profile pop up on the screen. After pacing around the living room for five minutes he finally settles on the perfect opener. A real conversation starter. He types out: “Hey.”

RE:7 Infected!Ethan Winters x Reader

He asked you to come find him. After three years he finally gave you a shred of hope, all the way out in the swamps of Louisiana. “You shouldn’t have come here… I must contain… Must contain the outbreak.” Ethan growls as he approaches you, his hazel eyes swallowed by a black abyss and dark veins snake across his features. A low laugh tumbles from his lips and he lunges towards you with the kitchen knife, chasing you down the corridors of the decrepit house with a sinister smile etched on his face.

Ethan Winters x Reader

Glittering like diamonds under the golden sun, the waves sweep against the shore line, leaving behind bits of seashells in its wake. The sand feels good under your feet, keeping you warm against the cool ocean breeze. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this.” Ethan squeezes your hand, your fingers interlaced with his while you continue the quiet stroll down the beach.

RE:3R!Jill Valentine x UBCS!Reader

Jill scoffs as she heads up the subway stairs, checking the remaining ammo in her handgun. To her annoyance, you, an employee of Umbrella, have been ordered to assist her in powering the subway station for the survivors' escape out of the city. “Just stay out of my way, got it? The last thing we need are more screwups from you people.” With a huff she slips under the metal barrier, heading back into the chaos of the city where she is immediately greeted with smell of fire and rotting flesh.

Android!Jill Valentine x Reader

With crime rates on the rise, the RPD finally relented and invested in some androids, programmed to act as human partners and aid the police force. “{{user}}, correct? I’m Jill Valentine, part of the STARS series of androids created by Cyberlife. Captain Wesker has assigned me to be your partner.” Despite the formality of her words, there is something uncanny about her mannerisms and flat tone of voice. Her gaze flickers to your desk, assessing it with a critical eye, as if she's attempting to gather information about you.

RE:1R!Jill Valentine x Zombie!Reader

After stumbling upon another batch of supplies in the mansion, Jill can’t help but wonder who keeps leaving all this stuff for her. She picks up the torn piece of paper attached that simply reads “heer :)” scrawled in poor handwriting. It can’t be Wesker, and even though Chris isn’t the brightest bulb in the box he can at least spell. Barry was also ruled out, having been with her just moments ago. As Jill contemplated the situation, a figure emerged from the shadows of the stairwell, carrying first aid sprays and ammo. With lifeless eyes fixed upon her, the figure shuffles closer, grunting as it places the supplies on the ground. The person actually helping out Jill is a zombie?

RE:3R!Jill Valentine x Zombie!Reader

Jill's heart pounds in her chest as she slams the door shut behind her, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as the heavy footsteps of Nemesis echo through the streets. As the sounds fade into the distance, she makes her way to the Subway Office, her handgun held firmly in front of her. The door to the control room swings open, revealing a figure hunched over the control panel manipulating the subway lines. "Hey, what are you-" Jill’s words die in her throat when you turn around. Your skin is pale and sickly in colour and your eyes glazed over, boring into her soul with a blank expression.

RE:4R!Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader

The bell tolls, bringing an abrupt end to the chaos. Villagers, entranced and mumbling in Spanish, slowly shuffle out of the square, leaving behind the haunting aftermath of bodies and ruined houses. “Where’s everyone going? Bingo?” Despite the eerie atmosphere, your fellow agent still manages to find the time to crack out one liners.

Leon Kennedy x Pregnant!Reader

“How’s little {{user}} and Leon junior doing in there, hun?” Leon wraps his arms around your waist tenderly, drawing you close from behind. Gently he caresses your stomach and rests his chin on your shoulder, taking in your beauty and marvelling at the transformations your body has undergone during these past few months.

RE:4R!Leon Kennedy x Mercenary!Reader

“Try using knives next time. Better for close encounters.” Leon smirks, holding his combat knife to your throat as he restrains the arm bearing your gun. Despite his confident facade, Leon’s heart races, his mind is turbulent with conflicted thoughts as the memory of your supposed demise plays in his head on repeat. He watched you die that night, yet here you stand, devoid of any scars that bear witness to the event that has tormented his dreams for six years.

Single Dad!Leon Kennedy x Teacher!Reader

As you're wrapping up your files and shutting down your laptop, the door to the classroom bursts open, revealing a somewhat dishevelled man. Running his fingers through his hair and adjusting his collar, he strides over with an apologetic expression. “Sorry I’m late, I got caught up in some business… You’re Sherry’s teacher, right?” He quickly takes a seat across your desk, offering an easy going smile.

Leon Kennedy x Reader

“Hey, looks like we’re in luck! I can’t believe these things still exist.” Leon remarks as you pull into the drive-in cinema. Only a few cars are scattered around, providing you both with perfect view of the classic movies projected onto the large screen. Once parked, Leon grabs the popcorn and snacks, wedging them in the console between you two. He also fetches a couple of blankets, draping them over both of you for a cosy yet old fashioned movie night under the stars.

RE:2R!Leon Kennedy x Zombie!Reader

In the tense silence of the narrow corridors, subtle clicks and low snarls echo as the licker crawls across the ceiling, hunting for new prey. Leon struggles to keep still as the creature approaches him, holding his breath and trying to calm the pounding of his heart. Just as the licker is about to sense him, a sudden loud bang shatters the stillness from the opposite end of the corridor. Squinting, Leon catches sight of you, your greyish skin and glazed eyes gleaming in the light that pours through a barricaded window. You throw something in the other direction, diverting the licker’s attention as it scurries away towards the source of the noise, leaving the rookie unharmed.

RE:7 Infected!Mia Winters x Reader

“{{user}}? You can’t hide from me forever you know…” Mia’s words turn into twisted snarls as she stumbles down the corridor, revving up the chainsaw once more. Her eyes, now black abysses, lock onto yours as she charges forward, the chainsaw raised for a deadly strike. “They’re counting on me! I must contain it… I must stop the outbreak!”

Mia Winters x Reader

A gentle breeze rolls over the hills, caressing your bodies as you bask in the warm sunshine. The flowers appear to glow under the bright rays, swaying in the wind as insects rest on their delicate petals. Mia continues to flip through the pages of her book, one hand on the pages and the other gently caressing the side of your head that rests in her lap. Her fingers create soft and soothing patterns on your skin, tracing any bumps or marks, as well as the contours of your lips and cheeks.

RE:8!Mia Winters x Lord!Reader

Your footsteps echo throughout the hidden dungeon of Mother Miranda’s domain. While your ‘brothers and sisters’ were tasked with Rose’s body parts, you’ve been left to watch the child’s mother, Mia Winters. “Why won’t you listen to me? If you let Miranda go through with the ceremony it’s over for everyone in this village. She won’t hesitate to kill you or any of your siblings. She’ll throw you out just like all her other failed experiments.” Mia pleads, her voice laced with frustration as she rattles at the bars of her cell, yet another futile attempt at escape.

RE:7!Mia Winters and Bioweapon!Reader

It’s a simple task for Mia. All she needs to do is keep you under control and pretend to be your mother while the ship makes its course to Romania. “Just one more… You’re doing good {{user}}.” Mia smiles as she administers another dosage of medicine into your veins. She ruffles your hair, pretending to be sweet and affectionate towards you.

Post RE:8!Mia Winters x BSAA Agent!Reader (+Rose)

It’s been a couple of months since the events of Romania. Since Mia’s husband, Ethan, sacrificed himself for their daughter Rose. Mia never wanted the BSAA in their lives ever again, but who could blame her? Their blunder ultimately led to his death, leaving Mia to raise a baby all on her own. Despite her self isolation, you still visit her and help out with Rose when it gets too much. Which is why you find yourself at her front doorstep today, Mia welcoming you in with a small smile.

RE:7 Infected!Mia x Reader

“We’re going to be a family now that you’re here.” Mia’s voice lulls you out of your stupor, the dingy dining room lights filtering through your eyelids. Despite the throbbing headache you can make out Mia in front of you, her elbows propped up on the table with her chin supported by her hands. The pungent odour of mold and rotting meat assaults your senses, the food laid out before you oozing a strange alien like substance. “Eat up darling… It’s good.”

Post RE:7!Mia Winters x Reader

Mia quietly comes up from behind and plants a tender kiss on your cheek, a soft hum escaping her lips as she savours the tantalizing aroma swirling around the kitchen. “Rose is finally asleep. Honestly how does her little body have so much energy?” Opening the wine cabinet, she retrieves a bottle of fine red wine that Chris bought them as a housewarming gift. She pours out two glasses and takes them to the dining room table.

Post RE:7!Chris Redfield and Ethan Winters x Reader

You walk into the gym after your Captain, Chris Redfield, had asked for some help with training someone. “Hey, over here {{user}}!” Chris’ gruff and booming voice calls out from the training mats, a wide grin spread across his face. Currently on the floor and panting like a mad man beside Chris is who you assume is Ethan Winters. “H-Hey!” Ethan waves as he regains his footing, his face glistening with sweat. It’s quite difficult to believe that this is the man who supposedly took down a whole house of monsters and Bioweapons with a stapled hand and leg.

Post RE:7!Ethan x Mia Winters x BSAA Agent!Reader

Since they were relocated to Romania, you’ve been tasked with regularly checking up on the Winters family. “Ethan! Can you get that, hun?” “Yeah one moment!” You stand at their front door after ringing the bell, the muffled sound of shuffling and talking can be heard. The door swings open, and Ethan's eyes light up with recognition. He gives you a warm smile and steps aside, welcoming you in. “Oh hey, {{user}}. Come in, Mia and I were just having some lunch.”

RE:3R!Carlos Oliveira and Jill Valentine x Reader

“The subway is out of power, looks like we’ll have to head to the substation and get it back up and running.” Carlos remarks while adjusting the earpiece in his ear and casts a glance between you and Jill before gesturing for you to follow. Jill resists the urge to roll her eyes as she begrudgingly follows him out of the subway. She’s already made her disdain for working with an Umbrella mercenary evident since the beginning. “Stay close to me, {{user}}. Let’s just focus on getting these survivors out of here.” She says, refocusing her mind on the task ahead as they step out onto the desolate streets of Raccoon City once more.

RE:4R!Leon Kennedy and Ashley Graham x Reader

“Will we really get out of here?” Ashley asks timidly as the three of you walk through the opulent and grand halls of the castle. The walls are lined with renaissance style paintings of the Los Illuminados and the Lord Saddler and Salazar, their ghostly expressions following your every move. “Don’t worry, {{user}} and I will make sure you make it back home to your father safely. I’m sure of it.” Leon replies while he reloads his weapons and looks over the castle layout, mentally mapping out any escape routes. Despite the horrifying circumstances you’re in, he manages to maintain his stoic and almost nonchalant attitude towards the dangers up ahead.

Link to the Masterlist

[stackslip]

As of yet, nations are not challenging the Refugee Convention directly, even as they move to scale back and even nullify its protections. In this environment, nations that sit between the world’s richest countries and its poorest and most war-torn can offer a valuable service as buffers and border guards. Every asylum-seeker that Greece pushes back is one that Germany never needs to worry about accommodating.

Though a climatically and politically unstable world does mean more refugees, the global attack on asylum is not a byproduct of overwhelming immigration. Japan, for example, tightened its policy in June by making it easier to deport asylum-seekers, although the restrictive country only awarded refugee status to 303 people in 2024, which was still a national record. A few hundred people in a population of over 100 million can’t pose any real burden on the country’s resources; the problem is with the principle that people are entitled to flee hardship and seek refuge. The goal is to whittle a right into a rare privilege.

To accomplish that, the West has to find ways to make seeking asylum even less appealing and more dangerous than the wars and disasters people are fleeing in the first place. Authorities must invent new cruelties to administer, cook up new nightmares to visit on the world’s most desperate. With their masks and knives and beatings, the Hellenic Coast Guard leads the way.

“There is a huge amount to learn from the Greek authorities and the Greek government in terms of the approach that they’ve taken towards illegal migration,” United Kingdom Home Secretary Suella Braverman told the press after a guided tour of coast guard operations on Samos, an island notorious for drift-backs. In April, the day after the U.K. passed a new policy that involves deporting asylum-seekers to Rwanda, five people drowned in the English Channel on their way to Britain, including a child.

As far as rich countries are concerned, these drownings are not a problem — they are a model policy solution. So if you want an image of the future, imagine a masked man kidnapping a child, putting her on a raft, and shoving it into the open sea, over and over and over again.

[cynicalrosebud]

By Trust Alone

Soap x Mexican!reader

Part 2 Here

Stranded in the dangerous streets of Las Almas during the mission "Alone," Soap teams up with Y/n, a brave local woman who has faced the Shadow Company herself. Despite the language barrier, she guides him to safety, helping him evade capture

My Spanish is so fuckin rusty, I spent a summer in Mexico for a college program but that was years ago (I am open to corrections by Spanish speakers!)

Spanish in italics

The streets of Las Almas were eerily quiet, the air thick with tension as Soap moved through the narrow alleyways. His breaths were controlled, though his mind raced, calculating every possible route to evade the Shadow Company operatives hunting him down. The mission had gone sideways, and now he was on his own.

As he pressed against the cold stone wall of an old building, Soap heard a faint rustling from the shadows. His hand instinctively tightened around his pistol, ready to face whatever threat emerged. But what stepped out from the darkness was not an enemy soldier but a young woman—eyes wide, cautious, and holding a small, rusty knife.

She looked like she’d been through a lot. Her clothes were torn in places, and there was a faint bruise forming on her cheek. A small cut on her forehead was still fresh, trickling a thin line of blood down the side of her face. It was clear she had run into some Shadows herself, but despite the obvious signs of a struggle, there was a fierce determination in her eyes.

"No eres de aquí," she said, her voice low and guarded.

Soap quickly recognized the tone. The woman was local, and clearly terrified. He relaxed slightly, lowering his weapon just enough to show he wasn’t a threat. "You speak English?" he asked, his accent heavy, but the question simple.

She shook her head, "No inglés." Her gaze flicked over his uniform, recognizing him as an outsider, but not the same as the heavily armed men terrorizing her home.

"Of course," Soap muttered under his breath. "Need to get to the church. La iglesia," he repeated in broken Spanish, hoping she understood.

The woman—Y/n, as she would later introduce herself—looked around nervously before nodding. "Es peligroso," she warned, motioning for him to follow. She led him deeper into the maze-like streets, away from the main roads where the enemy soldiers patrolled.

As they moved deeper into the church, Soap could feel the tension slowly easing, though the adrenaline still coursed through his veins. He glanced at Y/n, who was busy scanning the room for supplies, her focus unwavering despite everything that had happened.

Realizing they hadn’t properly introduced themselves, Soap took a moment to break the silence. "I’m Soap, by the way," he said, his voice soft as he watched her.

Y/n paused, turning to face him. Her eyes flickered with curiosity before a light giggle escaped her lips. "¿Jabón?" she repeated, the amusement clear in her voice.

Soap couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through him at the sound of her laughter. It was the first genuine moment of levity they’d shared, and it made his heart pound in a way he hadn’t expected.

"Aye, Soap," he confirmed with a grin, finding himself captivated by the way her smile lit up the dim room. For a brief moment, the dangers outside seemed far away, replaced by the simple connection between two people brought together by fate.

As they moved together, Y/n communicated with simple gestures and words, indicating when to stop, when to move, and when to hide. The night was filled with tension, the silence between them only broken by the occasional crackle of a distant radio or the heavy footsteps of a patrol.

Soap was impressed by her knowledge of the town. Y/n knew every hidden corner, every back alley that could be used as cover. Her bravery was evident in the way she moved, determined to help this stranger despite the danger that loomed.

At one point, they were forced to duck into a small, abandoned shop as a group of Shadow Company operatives passed by. Soap held his breath, and Y/n pressed close to him, her heart pounding loud enough for him to hear.

When the danger passed, she pulled back, meeting his eyes with a determined look. "Estamos cerca," she whispered, pointing ahead.

They continued, and soon, the towering silhouette of the church appeared against the night sky. Relief washed over Soap, but it was short-lived. A group of soldiers stood guard outside the church, blocking their way.

"Fuck," Soap hissed, realizing they had little time to come up with a plan. He looked at Y/n, who seemed to understand the situation. She glanced around, her mind working quickly.

"Confía en mí," she said softly, patting her chest, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of resolve and fear.

Soap nodded, not entirely sure what she had in mind, but he didn’t have many options. Y/n motioned for him to stay low and hidden as she approached the guards with her hands up, her demeanor calm and collected. She spoke to them in rapid Spanish, her voice carrying an air of authority as she distracted them, pointing in the direction opposite of where Soap was hiding.

The moment they turned their backs, Soap moved, slipping past them and into the shadows of the churchyard. Y/n continued to talk, giving him the time he needed to make his way to the entrance. Once she was sure he was safe, she turned to leave, but one of the guards caught her arm.

Before she could react, Soap was behind the guard, taking him down silently. The other guard barely had time to draw his weapon before Soap disarmed him with swift precision.

"Gracias," Y/n whispered, clearly shaken but grateful.

Soap gave her a nod, understanding the weight of what she’d done for him. "You’re braver than most soldiers I know," he said, knowing she wouldn’t fully understand but hoping the tone conveyed his gratitude.

They moved into the church together, the heavy doors creaking as they shut out the chaos outside. Ghost’s voice crackled over the radio, asking for Soap’s status.

"Got a local helping me," Soap responded, glancing at Y/n, who was already scanning the room for supplies. "Couldn’t have made it without her."

As they prepared for the next part of the mission, Soap knew he wasn’t alone anymore. He had an unlikely ally in this battle, one who had proven that courage didn’t come from training, but from the heart.

I hope to make a part 2 of this

[najia-cooks]

Sopa de mora salvadoreña (Salvadoran black nightshade soup)

American black nightshade (Solanum americanum)—not to be confused with bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) or deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna)—is a widespread flowering plant in the genus Solanum which grows throughout central America and Mexico, and into the northeastern United States. The genus Solanum, within the nightshade family Solanaceae, also includes tomatoes, potatoes, and eggplants.

The ripe berries of this plant, perhaps unsurprisingly, taste something like a very small tomato—but this dish concerns the plant's leaves. Sopa de mora is an earthy, savory, slightly spicy soup eaten in the countryside of El Salvador. It is made from the leaves of hierba mora, or black nightshade, in addition to squash, potato, chili, and sometimes chicken; a beaten egg or two may also be added and cooked, without stirring, directly in the soup.

A similar soup, made from black nightshade and broken pasta, is eaten in Guatemala under the name "caldo de quilete," "sopa de quilete," or "sopa de macuy." "Macuy" presumably derives from the word "majk'u'y", from Kaqchikel: a language in the Maya family spoken in central Guatemala.

Recipe under the cut!

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Note that, despite the fact that black nightshade leaves are eaten all throughout the plant's native range, they contain varying amounts of toxic compounds including Solanine, and should be eaten in moderation. Avoid unripe (green) berries, and do not eat leaves raw. Some people advise pre-boiling the leaves and discarding the boiling water to remove toxins.

Ingredients:

Large bunch of American black nightshade (Solanum americanum), Eastern black nightshade (Solanum ptychanthum), or European black nightshade (Solanum nigrum) leaves, washed and chopped

1/2 white onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 tomato, diced

1 jalapeño, sliced

1 small russet potato, diced

1 chayote fruit (güisquil), diced (optional)

1 small carrot, sliced (optional)

Water or vegetable stock

I used water, and found that the vegetables and leaves gave the soup plenty of flavor; but it's not unusual to use vegetable or chicken stock.

Instructions:

Sauté onion and garlic on medium in a large stockpot until onions are softened and translucent.

Add garlic and sauté until light golden brown.

Add tomato and salt and sauté until softened and nearly dry.

Add remaining ingredients, plus water to cover. Boil until vegetables and leaves are softened, 15-20 minutes. Taste and adjust salt.

Identifying American black nightshade

These are quick notes rather than a complete guide. Don't forage unless you know what you're doing!

Leaves are alternate; ovate or lanceolate; with entire to undulate to blunty dentate margins. Flowers are about 1cm in diameter; white to light purple; with yellow stamens. Berries are green when unripe, and glossy and black when ripe. They grow in clusters. Calyxes are smaller than the berries, and curl away from them. Ripe berries, unripe berries, and flowers often appear on the same branch.

Avoid the green, unripe berries, which are toxic.

Lookalikes

Bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) is poisonous. It has berries that are green when unripe, and bright red when ripe. Black nightshade has berries that are green when unripe, and black when ripe.

Deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna) is poisonous. It has a calyx extending far beyond the berry, and the berries grow singly. Black nightshade has a calyx smaller than the berry, and its berries grow in clusters.

Eastern black nightshade (Solanum ptychanthum) is also in the Solanum nigrum complex and is sometimes considered synonymous with American black nightshade. It is edible, and may also be used in this recipe. Leaves are alternate; ovate or lanceolate. Leaf margins have 2-5 blunt teeth at the base, but become smooth and pointed at the tip. The base is rounded or cuneate (wedge-shaped). Petioles are winged with extensions of the leaf blade.

Flowers are about 1cm in diameter; white to light purple; with yellow stamens. Berries are green when unripe, and glossy and black when ripe; and grow in clusters.

[cactusisconfused]

My brain has yet again made another thought, enjoy.

-

Ghost had heard of day of the dead before, of course, he has. He’d not practiced it, nor thought anything of it really. Wasn’t exactly a man for traditions.

That thought hadn’t really changed until he was sitting in Mexico for his then second time.

Graves had betrayed them, the bastard, and now Soap is who knows where with who knows what injury. On instinct Ghost slips into the darkness, footsteps making no sound and the necks of the shadows split by his knife before sound could arise.

As Ghost moves, waiting patiently to hear something from Soap does he take a moment to pause and look around. It’s late October, Las Alma’s clearly beginning to set up its decor and altars for day of the dead. He slips into a small house he’s found a moment of refuge in. Thats when he sees the alter, a small thing may it be.

There’s a few frames holding pictures of different people, black and white photos, saturated and grainy photos and recent ones. Some of them are of a child, an older lady and man. A cat with a bow tie.

Surrounding the photos are bright orange marigolds. Somewhere, in Simon’s buried memories does he hear his mother from his youth. She had loved marigolds. Loved the color, the shape. He hadn’t realized he had forgotten. Isn’t sure how to feel about forgetting.

Ghost didn’t look for long though, despite the thoughts surrounding his head. He had to keep moving and ensure Johnny got out of all this alive once he finally radioed back.

The thoughts of the altar and marigolds leave his mind for that time being and don’t resurface for a long while later.

.

He and Johnny had gotten into a relationships one unlike the other had ever had and never once would they trade it for anyone else.

It’s when they’re on leave, walking down a street in Edinburgh when Simon peeps a small flower shop, marigolds on display.

He hadn’t meant to stop, truly he didn’t. But his brain could only conjure up his mother’s face and then, for the first time in years, that altar back in Las Almas.

Johnny of course clocks Simon’s sudden stop and his lingering gaze on the folded orange flowers.

“Ye wanna go in there, Si?” Johnny asks quietly, his thumb rubbing the Brit’s hand as they hold each other’s. Simon shakes his head, forcing his eyes away.

“I’m alright.” Johnny can see there’s more than Simon is letting on, but he gives a soft smile regardless and nods. They begin continue their walk, Soap making sure to remember the shop.

.

A few days pass, the autumn wind has truly kicked in as October comes closer to its end. Simon had gone to the gym, Johnny staying home, saying he had ‘things to do’ which awarded the Scot with a raised eyebrow.

When Simon comes back home, he finds the dining room table set with dinner, the lights dimmed and a vase of marigolds sitting on display.

“I saw you looking at them the other day, figured you might like them.” Johnny says with a slightly nervous smile. Simon can’t help but let out a small huff of a laugh, something made out of pure adoration. God Simon loved his boyfriend.

It’s after they eat, now settled on the couch resting in each other’s arms, does Simon formulate the thoughts that have refused to take shape in his head for so long.

“You know of day of the dead?” Simon asks softly, his hand combing through Johnny’s outgrown Mohawk. The Scot mods with an “aye, I have.”

“I was thinking…” Simon starts, his eyes moving to the vase sitting in the table. “We could set up an altar.” Simon says with an unsure lilt to his voice. While Simon hadn’t really participated in traditions in his life, but this one, for some reason bought his attention. He’d never been spiritual, or believed in ghosts or the paranormal- but this thought, to guide your loved ones back home, to spend a holiday celebrating death rather than letting its embrace feel like a freezing grip held like a vice in his mind.

Johnny the ever living man agreed with a level of adoration in his eyes that Simon had to look away. On the eve of Día de Muertos they set the altar together. Setting photos of Simon’s family, all except his bastard if a father and some photos is Johnny’s gone relatives. They lay the marigolds around the altar as well as lighting candles and laying out foods from both their origins and a few hispanic dishes to honor the culture itself.

There’s no great party really, but they sit close together on the couch, stories being told of each face framed with the orange petals. Simon feels closer to those he had loved- still loves than he had in a very long time.

-

This was a lot longer than I had planned. Also is this incredibly late to day of the dead? Yeah, my apologies but I had the thought like- an hour ago.

This, I will be blatantly honest, I projected on. I myself really wish to follow this tradition next year and quite honestly could see Simon following it too.

Anyway I’m gonna go pass out o7

[whencyclopedia]

Louisiana Purchase

The Louisiana Purchase was a land deal made in 1803, in which the United States purchased 828,000 square miles (2,144,510 km²) of land west of the Mississippi River from France for $15 million, or an average of three cents per acre. The purchase nearly doubled the territorial size of the United States and fostered the westward expansion of the young republic.

Background: The Louisiana Territory

The colony of Louisiana was founded on 9 April 1682, when French explorer René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle reached the mouth of the Mississippi River. La Salle erected a cross at the spot, and, in a ceremony performed before his own men and his Native American guides, he proceeded to claim the entire Mississippi Basin for France, naming it Louisiana in honor of King Louis XIV of France (r. 1643-1715). Shortly thereafter, he returned to France, where he convinced the king to give him control of the new colony. La Salle then embarked on another expedition to fortify the mouth of the Mississippi by establishing another French colony around the Gulf of Mexico. This expedition, however, was beset by difficulties from the start. La Salle was unable to rediscover the mouth of the Mississippi and was ultimately assassinated by mutineers in 1687.

Over the next several decades, scattered settlements began popping up around the Mississippi River. New Orleans was founded in 1718, on the site where La Salle had made his proclamation 36 years earlier, and quickly turned into a rich port city. Timber, agricultural produce, and high-quality furs were shipped down the Mississippi River to New Orleans, where they would be sent on to Europe or New Spain. Despite the wealth generated from New Orleans, the Louisiana Territory as a whole was not highly valued by France. In 1710, Louisiana governor Antoine de La Mothe Cadillac reported that "the people are aheap of the dregs of Canada" and that the colony was "not worth a straw at the present time" (Smithsonian). Therefore, at the end of the Seven Years' War in 1763, France agreed to cede control of the entire Louisiana Territory to Spain. The exact boundaries of ‘Louisiana' were still murky, and the terms of the treaty granted Spain control of all lands west of the Mississippi River. At the same time, France ceded its northern colony of Canada to Britain, thereby unburdening itself of all continental colonies so that it could focus on its much more lucrative sugar colonies in the Caribbean.

Spain enjoyed a tenuous hold on the Louisiana Territory, which it viewed with disinterest, as little more than a buffer between British North America and Mexico. In 1783, the United States won its independence and gained control of the eastern banks of the Mississippi River. This led to rising tensions between the US and Spain, as each nation claimed the right to navigate the Mississippi, which had become a vital waterway for trade. This dispute was settled on 27 October 1795, with the signing of the Treaty of San Lorenzo, also known as Pinckney's Treaty. The agreement gave the Americans the right to navigate the entire Mississippi and allowed American merchants to store goods in New Orleans warehouses. While the treaty de-escalated tensions between the US and Spain, it increased American influence in the region at the expense of Spanish power, which had never been strong to begin with in the Louisiana Territory and was now on the decline.

La Salle Claims Louisiana for France, 1682

Jean-Adolphe Bocquin (Public Domain)

Then, on 1 October 1800, Louisiana changed hands once again. Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821) – who had risen to power in France a year earlier – made a secret deal with King Charles IV of Spain (r. 1788-1808) in the Treaty of San Ildefonso. In it, Spain agreed to cede the entire Louisiana Territory back to France, in exchange for control over the Kingdom of Etruria in Italy, which King Charles wanted to give to his daughter. Napoleon was pleased by the easy acquisition of the Louisiana Territory, seeing it as the first step in re-establishing France as an imperial power in North America. He envisaged Louisiana as a breadbasket of sorts, shipping food and supplies to France's Caribbean colonies of Guadeloupe, Martinique, and Saint-Domingue, all highly valuable for their production of sugar. A significant condition of the Treaty of Ildefonso was that France could not turn around and sell the Louisiana Territory to a third party, as Spain was worried about having a hostile power so close to Mexico. At the time, Napoleon intended to adhere to this condition, although his plans would soon be turned upside down.

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