#there's less pressure when you're an outsider & that leaves more room to actually think & observe??

[hecatesbroom]

did I finally manage to write a brand new fic? I sure did!! with many, many thanks to the lovely @eeblouissant for inspiring me with these beautiful drawings of Blanche dipping Dorothy (and the incredibly sweet follow-up with Rose playing the piano, after our chat about this scene!!) I hope I managed to do it justice ;)

Summary

When Dorothy mentions she’s never been dipped before, Blanche and Rose decide to take matters in their own hands.

[thisstableground]

Hi, I'm curious about something and you're like the one person I know who knows both characters so what would a meeting between Usnavi and Bruno be like? Just wondering

(this is broadway usnavi btw, i haven’t seen the movie)

okay! so, i actually think that bruno and usnavi have way more in common than you’d think just from a quck glance.

usnavi is clearly deeply loved by his community, whereas bruno is shunned by his, but (at least before usnavi’s character arc in the show) both of them feel on the outside of things. it’s probably not a coincidence that usnavi’s the only one breaking the fourth wall in ITH. he’s really no more the main character than, say, nina, but he is the one who chats with the audience directly, and i think that reflects the fact that he feels, like the audience, that he’s watching everyone else’s lives rather than participating himself. the world spins around while i'm frozen to my seat. and isn’t that so similar to bruno, sitting isolated in his room, watching visions of everyone else’s lives but never getting out himself, or putting on his rat plays in his space behind the wall? they both view themselves more in the role of narrator or observer, not a character with their own arc.

it’s obviously got a different vibe. i don’t think usnavi realises quite to what extent he’s loved by the people around him (he seems absolutely baffled by sonny and vanessa being upset about him leaving) but he definitely does not feel unloved. i think bruno also doesn’t realise how loved he is, but in his case he also has very good reasons to feel unloved, and is much less welcomed by the wider community (though perhaps when he was younger, this was different). and i definitely get the impression that usnavi’s relationship with his parents was an affectionate one, not a fraught one like bruno’s.

but there is that sense, for both of them, of having lost the thread of their individual identity under all the pressure of legacy and lost parents and their role and duty to their community. and both of them are stuck. they're living a life that isn't where they want it to be, there are things they want and relationships they crave but they can't move out of the place they're trapped in. there is also the sense that some part of is their own subconscious doing.

i always interpret usnavi’s as a result of anxiety that largely comes from losing his parents, a past that he can't change but wishes he could: what if he makes a wrong choice and something else bad happens, what if he loses someone else or loses his memory of his parents? better keep things exactly the same, to be safe. and bruno's as a result of seeing futures that he can't change but wishes he could, and what if he is cursed? what if he is the reason things go wrong? better knock on wood, hold your breath, spin in a circle, to be safe. when your life throws you a pain that you can't control, you create a routine that you can control, even if it eventually takes over and controls you.

usnavi's goal for a long time is to go back to the dominican republic, apparently, but until abuela claudia wins the lotto it really doesn’t look like he’s got any intention of taking steps towards that. and bruno is very similar - doesn’t actually manage to run away, because he’s too connected to his home and his family, but he doesn’t know how to change things so he just hides, stays the same, watches everything else grow and change without him. i’d bet that usnavi and bruno have had similar thoughts so many times of like “oh i’ll ask vanessa out, i'll sell the store, i'll move to DR. one day. probably. not yet.” and “i’ll talk to my sisters, i'll leave the encanto properly, i'll go outside. at some point. probably. not yet.”

and part of that pressure is external circumstances, but part of it is self-imposed, as a defense mechanism. if you lose yourself in your work or your duty to that extent, if you hide behind the things that are honest about it, then you always have an excuse to tell yourself for the rest. someone does always need coffee or a vision or a stable job or to be protected, that's true, so you can pretend that you're putting that big plan off because you're just too busy with all that other stuff, not because you're scared to do it. stay in the store. stay behind the walls. part of it is kindness, or duty, or practicality, yes. part of it is fear.

oh and speaking of abuelas! (though, again with a very different vibe depending who we're talking abut) i think both of them are very led by their love and respect for the respective maternal figures in their lives, but that this clouds their own desires/goals. claudia says to her own mama, "i spent my life inheriting dreams from you", and i think that without meaning to, the same happens with her and usnavi about moving to the dominican republic. as soon as it was him making the choice alone, he realised that it wasn’t what he wanted. i think there’s always some part of him that does want that a little, i doubt claudia picked that up from nothing, but it’s possible that she read usnavi's vague ideas of going to DR more strongly through her own experience of missing where her family came from, the part of her that regrets not going back to cuba, and didn’t recognise that the indecision probably meant part of usnavi felt it wasn't right for him.

and that’s so similar for alma, though it's much more harsh and hurtful in this instance: she parents her children and grandchildren based on her own history and regret and fear and wishes. she wants a safe place to hide, she wants outsiders not to find them or cause them harm: bruno lives up to that and then some when he goes into the walls. and he convinces himself it's the best choice for himself and for the family, but it isn’t. they probably don’t even realise that it’s something he learned from her example.

neither claudia nor alma mean any harm by this, they try their best, and they sacrifice for it: alma locks away her own grief and her trauma to build a whole community from the ground. claudia could use her lotto money to go back to la vibora after days into weeks into years away from home, but it’s puerto plata that they’re getting a plane ticket for, usnavi's island, not hers. they’re both misguided, their own pasts biasing their perception, but they do love their kids.

anyway!! you asked what it'd be like if they met, not for a list of things they have in common or for an extensive meta about abuelas. tough shit i guess you got that too.

so. i think that usnavi may see the similarities between himself and bruno, but he doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who dislikes people who he can see his own flaws/insecurities in. if anything it just makes him reach out to them more. i think he would want to help. he’s been scared and lonely and saddled with too much responsibility from too young an age and felt like he lost everything before, too, but he’s doing so much better now, and he'd want to extend that hope to anyone else who is struggling similarly. and what bruno needs more than anything is to be shown kindness and acceptance, both things that usnavi can very easily give. i also think usnavi has absolutely no concept of people being weird, he’s extroverted and makes friends easily but he’s not exactly Mr Social Cues himself. bruno could say the most absolute batshit thing you’ve ever heard and usnavi would just be like “lmao yeah i get u :)))"

bruno, on the other hand, probably would struggle to like someone who he felt was too much like himself, but i don’t think he’d see usnavi that way. someone who has struggles, fears, insecurities that bruno does relate to, but who unlike bruno is also bubbly and bouncy and chatty, and who is trying so, so hard all the time to be positive (even when it would be healthier to let themselves feel angry, or sad, or hurt, even when it's blatantly obvious that they are feeling those things), someone who helps other people when they're in the middle of their own crisis and who thinks of themselves as just a totally unremarkable, ordinary, nothing-special person because they don’t see the way that everyone gravitates towards their warmth and kindness. he’s not going to see himself in usnavi. he’s going to see mirabel.

they’d get along great.

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FOUR: SILENCE COMES AND GOES

Author’s note: Hello! We continue with this, I would like to thank everyone once again for all the likes and reblogs the story has gotten so far, couldn’t be happier! Enjoy (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.9K **

It is possible that Harry is ignoring the big elephant in the room, as he spreads some jam in his crumpet, well aware of Fernando and Jack exchanging knowing looks. He takes a bite of the savoury treat and hopes none of them dare to confront him, at the same time he wants to be questioned about why he hasn't called Alma yet.

Harry spent the last two weeks grumpy and frustrated.

He's called his therapist way too many times. He has no idea where he went wrong in his healing process. They were back to square one, whispered his tired heart.

Jack is surprised too, his friend got on so well with Alma at the party and apparently even went the extra mile asking for her number then he spent the following fourteen days acting as if she didn’t exist. Didn't even text her like Gemma suggested. He sips his coffee and sighs for the millionth time that day.

The musician is infuriated at himself and desperate that he wants to have Fernando demand an explanation for his behaviour towards his sister. Harry's not a confrontational guy, but he's going mad. Might be losing it. He wanted to scream at the two men before him that he did plan on calling Alma, but then he got so sad. Now he's afraid it's too late.

"Do you want another one?" Fernando holds the plate with crumpets in front of Harry who takes one more and thanks him before grabbing the jam. "Do you reckon you'll be man enough to call my sister within the next couple of days?" Harry chokes on his food while Jack's laughter booms through their home.

Nobody has ever called him out like that. Harry's still unsure whether to be grateful or scared. Maybe a bit of both he thinks after composing himself again from the fit of coughs, he knows Fernando is still waiting for an answer.

"Is she upset about it?" A hint of relief and pride linger on Harry's voice. Jack shakes his head, knowing that he's avoiding the question. Something he's very good at.

"That's not what I asked." Fernando's clipped tone leaves no room for the musician to beat around the bush anymore.

"I was really nervous about calling her, kept putting it off until days turned into weeks... I'm not sure how to go about it," he plays with his rings and looks away from the inquisitive gaze of his companions.

"How did you get Taylor to go out with you?"

"What?" Harry and Jack ask at the same time.

"You must've asked her I guess," Fernando shrugs. "What is so scary about Alma that puts you off? Are you interested in just a shag and you're worried she'll decline or tell the media about it?" Harry is shaking his head vigorously and the dark haired architect leans a bit closer towards him, "you're so full of sh-”

"Alright let's take a break," Jack's soothing tone brings his house mate back from the rage path he was following. But Harry knew that he was right.

It had been a year already, he moved to a new house, one where his ex never set foot into and still her ghost was everywhere. He has this crazy need to destroy everything that can relate to her. Her favourite cardigan is kept away in a box full of Polaroids and books that are all her.

The real reason why he didn't dare to call Alma is because whatever he felt at the beginning of his previous relationship, or any other one, was at least ten times less intense, than what he was feeling now. Seeing the menace before them, his heart and mind decided to leave him courage-less towards the situation. It's less painful to think what could've been than to know it and see it being taken away from you. Again.

But he deserves to be happy, that's what Gemma reminded him the other day.

"I gotta go," Fernando announces before rising from his seat, walking inside the house and upstairs to his room. Jack tries to tidy up the table a bit, not daring to look at his apparently mute friend. When Fernando comes back down he steps outside to the patio where they had brunch, one last glance to a very ashamed Harry and he sighs. "Brigit's Bakery Classic Afternoon Tea Bus. Alma’s been dying to get tickets but never has the time to actually book it," he explains adjusting his jacket's collar. "It's not too late." With that he turns on his heel and leaves the house.

Harry takes their mugs and places them in the sink, he notices Jack is going around the kitchen putting away the butter and milk in the fridge.

"What are you waiting for Romeo?" The blue eyed man asks, stopping in front of a blushing Harry.

They're both quiet for a minute. Harry's heart is racing and can feel his hands get clammy. He hasn't felt someone's faith in a long time, and he's not sure if he's happy or pressured that Fernando and Jack are pushing him to call Alma, he doesn’t even know if she will give him a chance. Harry's wishing to be the kind of guy to take out his mobile and make the call, maybe even crack a witty joke that will have Alma laughing in that loud way he remembers and not be awkward with asking her out on a date. As if he wasn't completely mortified by being rejected.

Harry was sure he would ruin it, not just the call but the date and everything else that was actually going to happen between them without even trying first.

"Hello?" She answers after the third ring, confused at the unknown number calling her.

"Yeah it's me," Harry nods to Jack who urges him to finish whatever sentence he's trying to form, "I believe I owe you some coffee."

"Harry?" Alma tries to fight back a laugh. A wide smile splitting her face after recognising who is the mystery caller.

"Yes! Sorry I forgot you didn't have my number." Jack is red with second hand embarrassment for his friend and decides to start the dishwasher just to keep his eyes from the train wreck happening in his kitchen. "I'm sorry for not calling sooner."

"You're calling now, 's all that matters... I'd love to get that coffee. Next Thursday works for you?" He nods feverishly and remembers he's on the phone.

"Of course, I'll pick you up at five if that's alright."

"Make it half past five please, that's when my shift ends. I'll text you the address." She throws the latter smoothly as an excuse to initiate conversation until they meet again and Harry is oblivious about it.

"Sure great, perfect I'm... really looking forward to seeing you," he plays with the tea towel on the counter, his back turned to Jack, a million butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he hears the coy chuckle his confession got out of her. "Have a good day, see you later."

"See you later, Harry" Alma's goodbye is full of hope and endearment, just like the one he got before she walked away from him that morning after Freddie’s birthday party.

After ending the call, he mentally scolds himself for dreading it so much. It went so much better than expected, even got a laugh out of her. Perhaps Harry needed to stop making decisions based upon his fears and more taking in consideration the other person. He always thought he knew best, it's what he's been told for so many years and although he needs to be making big choices most of the time, perhaps now he could share that responsibility. Felt dead nice for a change.

"That wasn't so bad." He admits to Jack before drying the now clean dishes with a towel.

"I'm proud of you, now tell me, where are you guys going for that coffee?" Jack's eyes are full of curiosity and excitement, it's impossible for Harry not to feel a chill go down his spine at the prospect of planning the date. He thinks about what Fernando suggested, but it would be too obvious that it wasn't his idea entirely.

Alma deserves something exclusively planned by him.

"Don't know yet, perhaps somewhere nice and quiet" he ponders and his friend agrees.

Last time Harry had a proper first date was about two years ago or so. He cooked aubergine parmigiana following Jamie Oliver's recipe and baked some biscuits for dessert that he enjoyed with his companion overlooking the Pacific Ocean from his home's balcony. Back then it seemed to be the right choice to keep it low-key, a simple dinner at his, no risk at all to be bothered or watched. But Harry knew that at some point it got old, being overly discreet was easily mistaken for being ashamed of the relationship. That kind of thing can do a lot to someone's confidence, little by little until it's all too much to bear.

If he could only learn not to care about the world's prying eyes.

Harry doesn't want to drag anyone into the scrutiny of the media until he knows it's an incorruptible bond. The inevitable thought of forever, something he believes might not exist for him, at times. He did think Taylor was it, even Kendall for a while, which is why he dated more publicly back then, until she came along and the love Harry felt was so grand it made him overly protective of them. Countless times he tried to explain that this was the first time something was working in spite of all the circumstances that came with his life and he was trying to cherish it, keep it to himself. Nurture it until it was as tough as old boots.

That night was spent writing down ideas for that first date. Number one was The river café, near Putney Bridge, a place free of paparazzi. Number two, Rail house café, lovely spot to share dinner. Number three The sanctuary café, located in a beautiful building with a quirky environment. Number four and his personal favourite Lola's bakery, their service was so warm and intimate, he remembers the cinnamon Chelsea bun and his mouth waters instantly. So, drawing a big circle around the fourth option he smiles before going to bed that night.

Saturday morning finds Harry at his grandparents’ old home, carrying a bag full of ingredients for a vegetarian lasagna he is planning to cook for his grandfather and his mum. He immediately banishes Anne from helping in the kitchen. She observed him follow the recipe, cooking for no longer than ten minutes the garlic, thyme and aubergine, and then crumble over the chilli carefully. He lets her grate the Parmesan when the sauce isn’t thickening and reducing like it was supposed to. With a bump of her hip, she nodded towards a couple of tomatoes, Harry smiled before tipping them in, breaking them with a spoon and five minutes later, the sauce was ready.

His mother is a marvellous woman, like the good son he is, Harry doesn't want to make her sad, ever. The last time he visited her, recently broken hearted, they spent it baking, cooking, eating sweets and drinking hot chocolate at the rear terrace. Once he had enough of moping around, he decided to make it up to her and create good memories from that visit. They explored the local parklands as if it was the first time, shared ice cream, got tipsy on cheap red wine and chatted from dusk till dawn.

A few hours later, after eating the delicious meal and tidying up the kitchen afterwards, Harry watches his mum talking to his grandad, holding his shaky hand in hers and caressing it in a soothing way. The elder man’s Parkinson is getting worse with time, he feels so useless, specially because it affects his favourite people. He wants to know what his mother is thinking when she joins him back in the kitchen. There is some anguish dancing in her kind eyes, but Harry knows better than to push her to share something she is not ready to.

"I have a date next Thursday," he chokes out, in hopes of distracting her, and it works. Anne's head whips towards her youngest child, evidently shocked and yet proud. It's been years since Harry shared that kind of information with her.

"A proper date?"

"Yes," he wants to add how nervous it makes him. "I dunno how serious it'll get... just met her once, properly I mean, we saw each other on the tube's carriage three times prior to it. Coincidentally of course, Gem said it is something straight out of a film."

"Who is she?" His mother is giving him that look, the one that says how giddy she is to know absolutely everything about the person that got her son so skittish, that he started to rearrange the containing of the cupboards entirely.

"Her name is Alma," he doesn't know where to start, if he spills all the ways in which he thinks she is wonderful, they'll end up pulling an all-nighter.

"And she's a...?"

"Cashier during the week, Spanish teacher on the weekends and occasional interviewer for her Youtube channel." Anne raises her eyebrows, impressed and wondering why such a busy girl agreed to go on a date. Must like him a lot of course, she thinks watching her son pour hot water on a mug, and dunking a tea bag in it afterwards.

"Where did you meet her if not on the tube?'' She is curious and weary. This wouldn't be the first time her youngest spawn overlooked certain things from strangers. Very little things in Harry's life were coincidences nowadays.

"Remember Jack Robinson?" his mum nodded, how could she forget the cheeky chap that helped Harry escape almost every night from his dad's house in the summer, just to go skate in Southbank's center until midnight. Anne admitted to not liking the bloke for a while, but gave him another chance after watching him grow into a responsible adult. "He's in charge of my home renovation, extension whatever it is called. Invited me to Freddie's birthday party and she was there." The dreamy look on his eyes when reminiscing the moment brought out a wide smile on his mum's face followed by her loud laughter.

"Oh Harry, you've got that look." it was the truth. He looked completely gobsmacked by his mother's reaction, but he couldn’t deny the peace he felt when knowing that she was already fond of the girl that he couldn’t get out of his mind.

"It’s too soon to tell!” He doesn’t want to dive into it, not yet. 

"How did you really meet? I want all the details." Anne asked, taking a seat at the coffee table and Harry told her everything.

From the first glance he stole her way to the last phone call he had yesterday at Jack and Fernando's house, his hands flew several times to tussle his hair and the dimple on his left cheek was exquisite, when telling his mother, how she asked him to dance with her. He spared no detail, from her intoxicating Moschino perfume to her raspy accented voice. By the time he finished, his mum's mug was empty but her heart was full. For so long she wondered if she would ever witness the beauty of Harry in love again and enjoy first-hand the way he spoke about that person in the sweetest manner, the high-pitched tone of his voice when finally admitting how nervous he actually was about this first date.

"Right, well in that case, stop thinking about how everything is going to go wrong." Easier said than done, Harry thinks but nods. "I'm sure whatever you planned will sweep her off her feet." Anne knew how much of a romantic her boy was, he went all out in that department. His best quality and Achilles heel.

"If the cupcakes from that place don't... I could literally do it." Harry plucks a banana from the fruit bowl before them and narrows his eyes when his mum rolls her eyes at him playfully.

His mother's reassurance made him feel less hopeless, the next day when they went to Sheffield's city center, she even picked out a couple of new mugs. 'Just in case we have new visitors at home.' Harry groaned but failed to hide the dreamy look in his eyes, he even crossed his fingers behind his back as he watched her pay for the cups. The thought of Alma meeting his mother in the near future —and the rest of his loved ones— excited him to an unfamiliar degree, like the first time he saw the seaside with his own eyes at a very young age, like that time he sang in front of a considerable amount of people, like a warm hug of his late grandmother. The idea that she may like him enough to agree to a second date is stuck on his brain, despite that they haven't even survived the first one.

Anne saw him enjoy himself the rest of that afternoon and the next morning before he had to go back to London. She sighed and watched him drive away, standing in her front door for a few more minutes, rejoicing on the memory of Harry's toothy grin. Usually she was careful and waiting for the other shoe to drop, but not this time. There was a bit of certainty in the unfamiliar situation, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, she decided to patiently wait and see. She hummed a familiar tune while putting away the new additions to her crockery. The same song her son decided to play on his journey back home.

Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Qué será, será.

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Next chapter

[sunnyrollins]

Hello there lovely! Firstly, I LOVE your writing. You're just so GOOD. It literally lights up my day when I see you've posted a Rollisi prompt. Much love! Secondly, I was wondering if there was any chance of you doing a song prompt. I adore "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur for Rollisis and would love to see some sort of fic based on it. No pressure if it's not your style. Take it or leave it. Love your work! You're the hero us Rollisi fans need!

[anon, this literally made me cry ilysm ! i’m so sorry this took me so long to get to ! i hope you saw the post i made shortly after you sent this saying i was doing it so you don’t think i just totally ignored you especially after all your kindness !]

The precinct felt particularly quiet that night. It usually did after a particularly difficult case. And, even after years of working at SVU, nothing was more difficult for Amanda than working cases involving children.

She sat at her desk, looking intently at the pictures of her daughters that were proudly displayed, unable to stop the familiar, intrusive thoughts from encroaching into her consciousness. She’d seen the worst of what the world had to offer working in the field that she chose. If anything were to ever happen to either of her girls…

She had enough restraint to flip the switch before the thought could fully manifest. Jesse and Billie were okay. They were fine…probably warm and comfortable in their pajamas, unwinding before bed. The thought was comforting, but also brought on a wave of almost guilt. Her kids were happy and safe and loved. The kids who’d been victimized by that animal…

“Rollins,” Amanda blinked back the tears that had threatened to spill at the corners of her eyes and turned to face Olivia at the sound of her voice. “Go home. Be with the girls.”

Amanda shook her head, as if to jostle the dark thoughts from her mind, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Yeah,” she agreed. Her eyes flickered to the framed photographs of her daughters one last time before she finally stood up from her desk. “These cases make you wanna go home and hug the people you love a little tighter.”

“I know Noah and I will be watching an extra hour of TV together tonight,” Olivia agreed with a small, sad smile.

Amanda returned the sentiment, but thought twice before offering a response on how her own night would transpire. Keeping things in her personal life under wraps had been getting inexplicably more difficult as time went on, and she’d found that she had almost slipped up on quite a few occasions within the past month.

Keeping secrets from Olivia and Fin was discernibly not her favorite thing to do, but it was necessary…for the sake of the job as well as for the sake of preserving what was hers and only hers for as long as possible. She loved them like they were family, but they — if nothing else — were opinionated. And it had admittedly been nice not having an outside opinion on her life outside of work since she’d been pregnant with Billie.

When it was clear that a nod was all the response that her detective was going to give, Olivia pulled her bag up a little higher onto her shoulder, fastening the final button on her coat. “Give the girls an extra kiss for me,” she said.

Amanda nodded again, her smile a little less melancholic this time. “See you in the morning, Captain.”

When she arrived back home, Amanda stopped outside of her apartment to fish her keys out of her coat pocket. From the other side of the door, she could hear a familiar voice, and a small smile touched her lips, as she paused to listen to the sound of the thick, Staten Island accent reading the words to one of Jesse’s favorite books that she had all but memorized by that point.

“The witch had a cat and a hat that was black, and long ginger hair in a braid down her-”

“Back!” Jesse finished excitedly.

Amanda smiled to herself before finally unlocking and opening the door, and the sight in front of her — with Billie sleeping soundly against Carisi’s shoulder and Jesse curled up against his side to look at the pictures in the book — was enough to send every fearful and negative thought about the recently closed case back into the furthest corners of her consciousness.

“Mommy!” Jesse exclaimed with a wave in her direction once she closed the door behind her.

The small smile that Amanda previously wore grew as she exchanged glances between all of the familiar faces. “You three havin’ fun without me?”

Jesse climbed into Carisi’s lap to take the book out of his hands and turn it to show the pictures to her mother. “We’re reading Room on the Broom!”

“Again?” Amanda asked with mock surprise. As if by second nature, she unclasped her necklace to remove the diamond ring that had been tucked into her shirt all day before slipping it back into its rightful place on her left hand. “One more reading and Uncle Sonny might start asking for a lobotomy.”

Carisi chuckled, but Jesse simply looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What’s a bononomy?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her. “How about before we finish me and Mom get Billie settled for the night and you can show her the picture you drew before, alright?”

“Okay!” Jesse agreed easily and with a jovial smile. She clambered out of his lap and set the book down on the coffee table, taking off down the hallway nearly as soon as her slippers hit the floor.

Amanda took the sleeping toddler from Carisi’s arms, kissing her head and holding her just a little bit closer than usual, and he followed behind her as they made their way into Billie’s dimly lit bedroom to put her to bed. After tucking her in and whispering a gentle goodnight, she turned to the man behind her, winding her arms tightly around his waist, and resting her head against the crook of his neck.

It seemed contrived, but she couldn’t help but notice that all of the darkness that had tainted her world throughout the years had become a little bit lighter since she’d finally allowed herself to fully let him in. From childhood, life had been anything but easy.. It all lingered in the back of her consciousness in a seemingly endless cycle. Maybe it always would. But sometimes in the simplest moments…when she’d watch him tuck the girls into bed, or she’d wake up to a gentle kiss before he’d get up to put on a pot of coffee…it all seemed to fade away for a little while.

She breathed out nearly all of the tension of the day in a soft sigh, her eyes squeezing closed as if to help her to memorize everything about him in that moment — the warmth of his skin, the smell of the cologne on the collar of his shirt, the soft whisper of his voice when he finally spoke.

“You alright?”

Her hand smoothed absentmindedly down his back, and she pulled away from the hug just enough to tilt her head up to look at him. “Better now,” she responded.

Now that I’m with my family.

She’d completed the thought exclusively in her mind, but the way he quirked a curious eyebrow and the corners of his lips turned up in amusement let her know that he’d recognized the implication. “Gettin’ domestic on me, Rollins?” He teased.

She rolled her eyes playfully, and when he leaned down to kiss her, she aptly dodged it with a laugh. “If I ever get domestic you’ll know it,” she assured him.

The truth was, she had gotten more domestically sentimental throughout the year and a half they’d been together romantically. She had, admittedly, rolled her eyes at the “marry your best friend” sentiment in the past. It seemed too cliche…childish even. Maybe that was because — before now — the vast majority of men she’d dated in the past hadn’t actually been her friends at all, she wondered.

“I thought you might be headin’ in that direction when you actually agreed to marry me,” he finally said with a chuckle.

“Well if it’s any consolation I’ve still got time to change my mind.” Her smile indicated that she was only joking without her having to say it, and this time when he leaned down to peck her lips, she graciously accepted. “Hopefully we’re both still employed by the time we actually get to the part where we tie the knot.”

For as much as she wanted to blame the detective skills of Manhattan SVU for the fact that it had been getting more and more difficult to hide the nature of their relationship from the squad — and for as much as that was partially to blame — she knew she hadn’t been doing herself any favors either. Half the time she’d go out of her way to avoid him when he’d come into the precinct, and the other half she’d be so tense that she could feel it in her shoulders.

It hadn’t exactly dawned on her until Olivia had pulled her aside one day to ask if they were okay…if they’d had some kind of falling out because — according to the Captain — they’d been standoffish around one another. She could only hope her own shock in response to the observation wasn’t evident enough to seem suspicious.

“You’re borrowin’ trouble again,” he pointed out in response to the offhanded comment.

“So I take it you’re ready to convince Hadid that marrying one of the detectives you work with somehow doesn’t present a conflict of interest?”

“I’m a lawyer, Rollins. Convincing is kinda what I do.” He paused, cupping her face gently between his hands to look her in the eyes. “Don’t worry about it, alright? We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. And either way…it’s all gonna work out.”

She knew he had absolutely no way of knowing that for sure, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the sincerity in his eyes made her want to believe it.  

“You’re right. Gettin’ fired doesn’t sound too bad,” she finally said with a teasing smile, and when he chuckled with a roll of his eyes she nudged him playfully with her elbow. “I could use a vacation.”

When the floor outside of Billie’s bedroom creaked just slightly, Amanda instinctively unwrapped her arms from around him and turned to find Jesse standing in the doorway with a piece of paper in her hands. With a proud smile, the little girl thrust the drawing out to show her mother, and Amanda regarded the crayon-drawn figure with a bright smile.

“It’s Frannie!” The little girl declared, but she seemed to easily lose her focus on the task at hand as she turned her attention to Carisi. “Can we finish the story now?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.”

He grunted dramatically when he picked her up, offering a playful comment about how fast she’d been growing, and Amanda couldn’t help but smile at the way her daughter glowed excitedly in response.

The three of them quickly settled back onto the couch. Jesse sat attentively in Carisi’s lap, her eyes glued to the pages of the picture book as he picked up where he had left off, and Amanda leaned against him, nestled affectionately against his side. As he read, she slowly but surely fazed out the words and allowed herself to simply drift into the comfortable familiarity of his voice.

After all of the men who had burned her in the past — those who had left her high and dry or slept around behind her back — she had almost started to believe that there was no point in trying to build a romantic relationship as it would only end in heartbreak. But as she rested her head against the shoulder of the man she was going to marry…her former partner…her best friend…she let herself embrace the fact that she hadn’t let it get that far.

She thought back to the night that he’d asked her to marry him. When Al had proposed, it was out of perceived necessity. He’d wanted to make an “honest woman” out of her. With Carisi, it was different. He didn’t have to marry her. He wanted to.

“I want us to spend the rest of our lives like this, Amanda.”

A small, subconscious smile touched her lips in response to the memory, and when her eyes shifted up to him, watching his eyes skim over the children’s book as Jesse listened and leaned against his shoulder with sleepy eyes, she knew she wanted the same.

She wanted him to be there through everything that life would come to throw at her. She wanted to grow old with him by her side.

She wanted forever with him. And the ring around her finger assured her that he was never going to let her go.