#When people would say things like women have more fun!! It’d always be centered around beauty rituals and male attention

[womenaremypriority]

I can understand transmasc people who seem to mostly have an issue with simply being called women, tbh. I can perfectly understand why it would mostly be a linguistic issue for some. From a young age, I was jealous of men and aware they were considered less cool than women. This is even worse now because of the internet- I’ll show you one example.

Why is it gendered? Why are men the people who would understand this? This type of joke has always been on the internet, and it’s probably taken on a different form in the past ~5 years or so, but the assumption that the listener/reader is male and that men are the cool, fun sex are a constant. There are small pockets more oriented towards women but most isn’t. It’s always, always bothered me, and I can absolutely see some women just having better connotations with the word ‘man’ than ‘woman’.

Even though a part of you understands it’s misogyny, and it’s not a reflection of actual women, you eventually start to feel like it’s you that’s the problem. I truly feel like if I had kept going down the same route, I would have eventually identified as a trans man, and not nonbinary like I had a first. My brain started to interpret the anguish at seeing things like this and wanting to belong with men as proof I’ve always been one. Even if you have women you care about and don’t consciously think all women fit a certain mold, it still doesn’t feel right. This is made even worse by the trans community acting like ‘cis women’ is a boring thing to be. It sucks. I’m not going to deny that for some individuals sex dysphoria is very real, and not every one shares this experience, but this has existed in my life for a long time, and it felt very real to me at the time. So I do think for plenty of women, it’s not our female body, it’s not feminine clothing, it’s simply being referred to as a women.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Okay but I would LOVE to here your heretical opinions on Padame if you ever want to share them or any of your other views on star wars prequel characters. Your character analysises are INCREDIBLE and really fun to read <3

Oh boy, are you sure about that? Well, the ask has been made so here, we, gooooooooooooooo!

Padme’s one of those strange characters who appears as one thing but in actuality is quite different. Because she appears as the first thing, and it’s something people really like, most people accept that at face value and if she’s not always consistent--well, she came from a series of screenplays written by George Lucas.

Padme comes across as a very noble, kind, and courageous character who is also quite politically savvy. At fourteen, against all odds, she saves her planet from invasion when the Senate did nothing, secured herself an ally in the chancellor (nevermind him being secretly Palpatine), and even after relinquishing her title as queen remains a major player in the senate for years and is seen as enough of a threat to warrant several assassination attempts (one so bad she has to be guarded by Jedi and sent home to Naboo for several weeks). 

And I’m not saying she’s not any of these things. Padme is very courageous, is one of those odd politicians who... believes she stands for what she believes in (more on this later), and has a remarkable political career.

However, she’s also romantic to the point of being completely and utterly delusional, self-centered, and frankly a little nuts.

(Yeah, you knew you were waiting for me to say something terrible, WEREN’T YOU?!) Right, so what’s wrong with Padme?

Well, if you look closely at a few of her choices, the ones that never seemed to make much sense, then you can look at her other choices and... Well, it all sort of comes together. 

That’s right, I’m talking about “Attack of the Clones” and “Revenge of the Sith”.

Attack of the Clones we have the very lackluster and strange romance of Anakin and Padme.

On Anakin’s end, his infatuation with Padme makes a lot of sense. She was part of the party that rescued him from slavery, she was very kind to him, and was the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life. Ten years later, always having harbored a crush on her memory and keeping it alive through whatever news he hears of her, she’s grown into a very beautiful woman and Anakin is by chance introduced back into her life. I get why Anakin falls head over heels for Padme, I’ll get more into this later and how their relationship has some major issues (aside from the obvious), but I understand why he marries this girl out of nowhere even when it could get him thrown out of the Jedi. (As an aside, since this is more of a Padme post, I think Anakin was spurred on in part also by the death of his mother and his massacre of the Tusken Raiders. Anakin’s life was flipped upside down in a very short amount of time, one of his great emotional ties is suddenly gone, and I think he has this internal crisis that culminates in him deciding to marry Padme. Without this, he and Padme may have become lovers, but I don’t think he’d marry her).

On Padme’s end... it’s a little less clear. Anakin has grown into an attractive young man, yes. Take out all of George Lucas’ dialogue, and maybe Padme finds Anakin very charming. However, Padme secretly marries a Jedi she’s known for three weeks. Now, I’d be a bit more forgiving of this, love is love and we can’t always think rationally, but there’s some other things.

Unlike Anakin, Padme hasn’t been spending the past ten years romanticizing her memory of Anakin Skywalker. When they met in Phantom Menace, Anakin was not only five years younger than her, he was nine-years-old. To fourteen-year-old Padme, Anakin was not then dating material and was instead this poor boy in slavery. Which means while Anakin has build up justifying this rapid romance, Padme really doesn’t. What this means is that her romance with Anakin reads a lot more like a romantic fantasy. Cute dashing bodyguard shows up, saves her life, through contrived circumstances they’re sent back to beautiful Naboo where they spend time together, only cute bodyguard is a Jedi and can’t marry, which makes their love excitingly taboo! 

Everything Padme does, before and after this point, lends itself to this overdeveloped sense of romance. Padme wants to be whisked away, wants to have this secret unsustainable marriage with a man who cannot be married, she’s in love with the idea of being in love. Given how little time she spends with Anakin, how little they really know of each other, I’d say she’s more in love with the idea of Anakin than Anakin Skywalker himself. And this isn’t a bad thing necessarily, or at least not a grievous flaw, however, that’s not all. 

Padme chooses to marry Anakin knowing he murdered an entire village of men, women, and children. She marries him almost immediately after the massacre of the Tusken Raiders. Note, she does not learn about this later and have to come to terms with it, she is right there. She is on Tatooine with him and sees him go to do it and then return. 

Padme doesn’t take it... particularly well, that said, she also seems to shove it under the carpet immediately. She, first, marries Anakin within days after this event. She second, never really has a “holy fuck, Anakin” conversation with him. And worst yet, she never confesses to anyone else. Padme is a hypocrite and willing to sacrifice everything she believes in, albeit I believe unwittingly, for her romantic fantasy.

She tells no one about what happened. An entire village was brutally massacred, those who are already poor and oppressed and have no voice, by a man who is supposed to be a protector of all people in the galaxy. I’m sorry, Anakin, but if Padme was who you think she is then she would have to tell the Jedi Order at the very least if not the Republic. Instead, there are no consequences, only Anakin’s descent into guilt and madness as three years pass with it festering in the back of his mind.  Padme does not stand for the poor, for the people, or for justice. She only does so when it does not conflict with her own interests, i.e. her actions regarding the invasion of Naboo. More, I do not believe Padme has the introspection to realize this about herself, she never realizes that not narking on Anakin was very very very bad. Three years pass and she lives the whirlwind romantic fantasy that she and Anakin both want. They’re secret lovers/spouses, meeting up at the oddest hours of the day and... This is three years of this ridiculous affair. Three years to come to terms with the fact that something must change. And then the kicker, Padme gets pregnant, and this is where the extra delusional comes in.

The child should have been a signal of the end. There can be no more secret now. Padme is having a child, presumably out of wedlock, and even if space is very very very different from our society I imagine this would be quite the scandal that could even get her thrown out of the senate. I believe Padme mentions as much to Anakin. More, Anakin is no longer a lover, he is now a father. What’s supposed to happen now? They raise this secret child, instructing them that Anakin is only a father in private, never in public?

Anakin and Padme briefly flirt with the idea of Anakin leaving the order. Anakin even wants to do so, but it... never happens. Now is the time it absolutely should happen. Yes, Anakin’s a big part of the war effort, but he could at least start talking to the Order and they could decide if it’d be a slow or fast exit. 

My theory, Padme’s too in love with the fantasy. Anakin leaving means he’s no longer a Jedi, it means he’ll come to Naboo, be unemployed and be around. Anakin visiting will no longer be this romantic, fraught with the danger of being found out, passionate, short lived event for Padme. It’ll become real life. He’ll be a real, ordinary man, she’ll be a real, ordinary, woman, and that spark of romance will be gone.

I don’t think Padme wants that. 

Which is why, even with the child on the way, we see Anakin and Padme continue to play out this ridiculous secret lovers fantasy. And then, of course, Anakin goes insane off screen.

Padme is told that, once again, Anakin has murdered dozens of children. Of course, this is a terrible thing to be told and she can’t process it. She needs to find Anakin and confront him, but people always criticize Lucas here and feel it’s out of character for Padme to have run to Anakin in sobbing hysterics with no plan of enacting vengence.

Frankly, I think it’s very in character. She did nothing about the Tuskens, remember? I think at the end of the day, the murder of the Jedi children means very little to her. What hurts Padme the most is that the fantasy of Anakin she married is not real. The Anakin she married would never murder the Jedi children, betray the Republic, or do any of what he’s done. And I think Padme only has that strong, iron, will when she knows the world she’s in. With the Trade Federation, her stance was obvious. Her people were being oppressed, butchered, and invaded. In this case, the world she knew no longer exists.

The Republic is gone, perhaps hasn’t existed in thirteen years, as it turns out the senator who had always been her biggest supporter was a Sith Lord. The Jedi are gone, children murdered by Anakin while those in the field are picked off by their own clone soldiers. Padme’s world has fallen apart, and I think that makes it much harder for her to be the girl we saw in Phantom Menace. In time, perhaps, she would have joined the rebellion but... I do think Padme might have also given into despair.

So, yeah, that’s Padme for you.

[palaceofpassion]

Figured I'd take my shot with a second one, Ruby's suprised when Penny brings Jaune home to have him play the role of the happy couples stud. After all it's only logical that they birth strong child and who better.

"Ahhhn~ Yes yes!"

Ruby stared awkwardly at her ceiling as she bit down the bile forming in her chest. Her eyes closed tight as she rocked back and forth on her shifting bed, hoping to ignore the sounds of delightful pleasure happening behind her. "More! More! I'm breeding ready!" Her fingers grasped tightly onto her bedding, her teeth gritting as she tried to ignore the sounds of her wife... being fucked... being rutted... being mated by one of her closest friends. The sticky squelching sounds of bodily fluids exchanging with one another, quickly threw off her concentration. And yet, she knew she had to fight back the tears.

When Penny had come to her, talking about how she'd wanted a child. Ruby had, incorrectly, assumed that she wanted to go to a donation center. She HAD NOT expected for Penny to want to be bred, and creampied. She hadn't expected her loving wife to be stuffed by a big fat cock, or having her being dicked down. She hadn't expected Penny to bring her best friend over. So when she found Jaune at her door, a bashful look on his face as he asked the question.

"Hey Ruby, Penny called me, do you know why?"

Something had been wrong... something had been VERY wrong. And she could feel it in the pit of her stomach.

So when Penny came prancing over... wearing... wearing a sheer silk nightgown... one that didn't hide ANY of her lady bits... Ruby felt her heart drop. "Friend Jaune! I'm glad you could make it!"

"Hey Penny."

Jaune's smile didn't make her feel any better.

"Penny?" Ruby turned towards her wife, "What's going on?"

"Oh! I had mentioned wanting to have a child, remember?"

Ruby of course nodded, "Well friend Jaune is here to help!" Then when Penny turned towards Jaune... a twisted smile on her face... one that exuded sexual desire... one Ruby herself had never seen before. She felt her heart crack.

"Okay but... why?"

"Oh... didn't you discuss this?" Jaune turned back to Penny. "Penny, if Ruby is uncomfortable with this I don't think I want to go through with it."

"What? What are you talking about?"

“Well Ruby!” Penny quickly turned towards her, grabbing onto her hands and pulling them towards her heart. “I was hoping that we’d have friend Jaune here to be the father of our children.” Ruby blinked, confused at first.

“But… and I’m sorry no offense Jaune.”

“None taken.”

“Why Jaune?” She didn’t mean any offense by it… in fact… well Jaune had been a long time crush of hers. She’d only never made a move on him because of how anxious she’d felt about the entire ordeal. He had been one of the first people, if not the first person other than her family to accept her for who she was. He’d always been there when she needed him, and she’d always felt safe.

She had never been sure if those feelings were that of love… or of something else. But she’d held back, especially as Weiss had ended up falling for him. And now they were married, speaking of, “Wait, what about Weiss?” Maybe she could pull the plug here and now?

“I’m right here.”

Ruby nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden entrance of her childhood friend. “What?! Don’t suddenly do that! What are you Blake?!” She was so flustered by the sudden arrival that she didn’t even notice the dry look Weiss had bestowed upon her.

“No. But I’m already aware of the situation.”

Oh… maybe she was here to say no. “So… you’re not okay with it right?”

Weiss simply shook her head, “No, I’m not okay with it.”

“Oh thank go-”

“I love it.”

“What?”

Weiss beamed brightly as she placed her hand upon Jaune’s shoulder, ushering the taller man down so she could pull him into a deep kiss. Ruby felt her face flush hot, the public display of affection proving to be a little too much for her still naive mind. “You see Ruby.” Pulling away Weiss brought her attention back to her, “I love the idea of my Jaune here breeding other women.”

She didn’t miss the little shudder that ran through her old best friend. “Just… it's so enticing, watching him push them down, breeding them like the dirty sows they are. Filling their needy wombs with his rich virile Arc seed. Oh, you’ll both love it, I assure you.” The woman stroking her rounded belly, proof of their 8th child.

Honestly, Ruby wasn’t so sure she WOULD love it. But, she wasn’t even sure she could say no anymore, not with Weiss' sudden intervention. “Uh… Weiss what’s that?” She’d suddenly noticed the strap attached to Jaune’s shoulder, now that Weiss had brought attention to it.

“Oh, it’s a camera darling. To commemorate the event.”

Her brow crinkled in as she frowned at the sudden realization dawning on her. This… this wasn’t going to end well for her and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Now then, a few questions.” Weiss hurried them in the door, tugging Jaune along with her, who gave Ruby one last sorrowful glance.

“Have either of you ever been with a man before?”

“I have not friend Weiss!”

Penny raised her hand, a pleasant smile that would have normally caused her heart to race flashed across her face. Though now it only proved to make her feel… ill inside.

“Excellent!” Weiss clapped her hands together, “It’ll be an interesting experience.” Ruby felt her heart sink when Weiss turned her attention back towards her. “I assume you’re both alright with this then? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable after all. And I know Jaune doesn’t want you to either.”

“Yeah.” Jaune nodded, “I want this to be a fun experience for everyone involved… oh uhm… you’re not both lesbians right? I’d honestly feel bad if you were.”

Ruby WASN’T a lesbian persay. She wasn’t even sure what she was, she just liked who she liked. And at one time it HAD been Jaune, but now she loved Penny.

“No. Both Ruby and I are fine with both sexes.”

Ruby nodded meekly in response.

“Okay perfect, well I promise that Jaune will make this an experience that neither of you are going to forget.”

“Yeah.” She felt a hand press down on her shoulder, “Ruby, again, if you don’t want this please say something.”

She felt her heart swoon just a tad at Jaune’s concern. Her chest rose and fell and her face grew just a tad bit warm. Turning her attention towards Penny, she knew she COULD say yes. But seeing how happy and excited her wife was, how into this Weiss appeared to be… and… this could be her chance to get with Jaune for once… well it couldn’t be all bad?

No! It WAS FAR WORSE than she could have ever imagined.

“Oh yes! More please! More!”

Ruby sat there, silently sobbing to herself as her wife, her precious wife with whom she exchanged vows of solidarity with, was now on her back. Her hands tightly grabbing their bedding sheets as her best friend, and childhood crush, pounded her like she belonged to him.

She dared not look, the sounds of slapping flesh already being far too much for her to handle. Her lips trembled as she tried to silence out the sound, and she may have succeeded or at least she would have if Weiss hadn’t shifted closer.

“You know Ruby~” Her tone sent a terrified shiver down her spine, “I was the one that got Penny interested in this whole ordeal.”

“Wha?”

She looked up trying to say something, but found a single finger pressed against her lips. “Isn’t it amazing?” Weiss turned her attention towards Jaune and Penny, forcing Ruby to follow her line of sight.

Ruby’s heart dropped, tears began to trickle downwards as she SAW… no she could smell it, hear it, FEEL it… her beloved wife was on her back, her face… oh gods her face… it was contorted into the most twisted of pleased slutshammed faces she’d EVER seen before. “It was pretty easy getting the idea in her head, I told her it’d be easier to have a child if someone ACTUALLY bred her.” She heard, but did not see Weiss chuckle, too enraptured with the terrible scene in front of her. “It really was easy, your wife is suuuch a slut. She’s just so naive~” When she felt Weiss’ icey could fingers wrap around her shoulders she tried not to flinch. “It really didn’t have to be Jaune, I could have SO easily convinced her to sleep with ANY man.”

“B...bu...but why?” Why then? Why was this happening, why her? Why Jaune?

“Its simple~ I just LOVE seeing my husband fuck little stupid sluts silly. I mean just look at how happy Penny is.”

Ruby HATED how right Weiss was, Penny was… she was FAR happier than she’d EVER been when they had sex. “A silly little toy could never match up to the real thing… look at it… look at her stomach.”

Ruby could see it, she didn’t NEED Weiss telling her. She could see her wife’s belly inflate as Jaune’s… his cock pounded inside of her. Her stomach ballooning as he penetrated her over and over and over and over. The big meaty head of his cock skewering her so much smaller body, the thick bulb protruding through the other side.

“Penny Darling.”

“Y..yesh!?”

“Ruby wants to hear what's happening. She wants to know how much you love having my husband’s COCK inside of you.”

“Oh! OoOooKaaY!”

Ruby KNEW Penny didn’t mean anything by it, but she was just so excited. “Look Ruby! Jaune’s… oOooH hiiiiis hiiiis BIIIiIiIGG! CooOoCCCK! Itssssssszzzz! Its Puuuushiiing against MmyyyYy Ceervviviiix!”

Ruby could see it from here, the shape of her uterus forming on the outside of her skin. “HeeeEesssss hiiiiittttting mmmeeeeee soooo Sooosososooo deeeeep!”

“You want deeper though right?”

“YYyyyEeesssh pleeeeaassee!”

“Darling, can you please put her into a mating press for me?”

“Yeah!”

Jaune’s voice came out exasperated, his focus solely pushed upon her wife. Ruby was FORCED to watch as Jaune pulled on her wife’s legs, pinning them back and showing the extreme flexibility that came with the once gynoid. “WhoaooOh!” He’d pulled her legs practically behind her head, forcing his cock even deeper as he rose her lower body.

“Look at it, look at how DEEP his cock is going inside of her!” Weiss simply smiled, “You’d never be able to do that Ruby, but it’s okay.”

SMACK SMACK SMACK

His pace grew faster and faster, the bed underneath them started to shake as he unleashed sound defeaning thrust after sound defeaning thrust.

Ruby couldn’t believe it, she couldn’t take the emotional damage that she was feeling as her best friend pushed her wife into ecstasy. “Gods it feels SO good to have him inside of you. Its so amazing, I don’t think Penny will be able to have it any other way now.”

THUD THUD THUD

The bed jolted up and and down as he practically pinned her wife into her own bed. Thick juicy fluids squelched from their connected bodies. Beads of sweat staining their sheets as he practically pushed his entire body on her. Ruby could hardly see her wife anymore, but she could hear her squeals of pleasure. She could only watch as a man took her from her. She could only silently regret her decisions. And still why did it have to be this way, for Weiss’ sick pleasures?

“You know.” She flinched as Weiss’ hand fell upon the pit of her belly, rubbing gentle circles above her womb. “It doesn’t have to be this way.” Ruby gave her a betrayed look, scrunching her face together. “We really DID come here to help you two have fun~ And… well I’m sure Penny would LOVE if you both got pregnant together~”

Ruby meant to open her mouth, “After all, it’s not fair, now is it? Just letting Penny have all the fun?”

Ruby bit her lip, turning her attention as Jaune pulled up onto his legs, squating down on her wife and slamming his cock one last time into her depths. She could SEE his balls inflating, she could SEE the pulsing of her stomach as the bulge of his cock quite literally throbbed. She could see her wife’s belly inflating in front of her, “See?”

Weiss turned her attention back to Penny.

“Penny describe what’s happening.

“MmmNnn~♥ Fri...Fri… Ma...Mate…Br...bree...breeder J...Jaaauuune iiiisss filling My… my wooomb, with Prec...precious life giiiving seed! I can FEEL my ovaries drinking the… the preciiious fluiiids! I… I’m… I’m breeding ready!”

Ruby felt Weiss release her, shifting over towards Penny. “Oh Darling, you’re going to be JUST the most gorgeous pregnant woman.” Ruby watched Weiss run her finger over the outline of her wife’s uterus, tracing the very shape with a single soft touch. “Mmmn~ I can’t WAIT to see you nice and full. I bet you’ll have twins AT LEAST.” Weiss of course turned her attention back towards her husband, “I bet you can’t wait right? You LOVE it when women get pregnant with your children, you’re just raring to go again, right?”

Ruby turned her attention to Jaune, who had been mostly quiet this entire time. Surely he wouldn’t betray her? He’d been hesitant from the start after all! “Yeah… it’s REALLY hot... and…” No. “We should go again, I can dump a few more loads inside of her, just to make sure she’s nice and knocked up.”

“Yes please!”

“Perfect.”

Time seemed to still as Ruby did something she truly didn’t expect of herself, “STOP!”

All eyes turned to her as she flushed red, one that ran down the length of her unclothed body. “I… I…” She grit her teeth, “I’m next!”

“Perfect~”

Little did Ruby know, but she’d fallen into Weiss’ Trap, one she’d never be able to escape from.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter Two.

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 10.7k

come talk to me about wtsgd! i’d love to know your thoughts!

March 12, 2017 

It had been a week and a day since her move to New York, and Luci had never felt lonelier. Don’t get her wrong, she knew it’d only been a week when she had several more weeks to come to make friends and memories, but as she began to settle down into her new home, she felt very alone. 

Luci had called her parents approximately eight times within the past week—some of them were twice in one day—and all those calls were due to her loneliness. Ren and Beatrice were starting to get worried, and a bit annoyed despite being glad that their daughter hadn’t forgotten about them, but the calls were getting a little too much. And not much to their surprise, their Lulu always had something to talk about, which she mostly ranted about being a bit nervous and excited about rehearsals. 

Currently, Luci was headed to rehearsals as she walked to the Metropolitan Avenue Station, a two minute walk from her apartment in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Knowing her directions and the subway quite well, she got on the G train and got off in Court Square in Queens. She walked five minutes to take the F train towards Manhattan, getting off on 7th Avenue before walking down the street where Broadway Theatre appeared in her sight. 

Sighing, she thought about all the people she’d passed by. Seven train stops in total—people walking in and out of the train—less than ten minutes of walking, and despite the amount of people that rode with her on that train, she still felt like she was the loneliest person. 

She understood the big city quite well; no one really paid any attention or cared as they just proceeded with their life while simply being someone she passed by and possibly would never see again. Luci would only hope that her new job would help her make friendships and change her view on relationships a bit better; she’s had a few bad relationships in the past, romantic and non-romantic that had messed with her mind throughout the years, but she’d rather not think about the traumatic events that impactfully took a toll on her mental health as she was walking into rehearsals for the first time. 

Opening the door, she felt nerves rush through her body as she stepped into the Broadway Theatre where Miss Saigon would be in production for eight months. The theatre would be her home for the rest of the year. She’d work tirelessly, and devote her entire being to the role to be the best actress she could ever be. 

All at once as she walked through backstage, it began to hit Luci. This was what she’d been dreaming of, and the realization had hit her hard once she walked through the doors and into the dark hallway that led backstage and the dressing rooms. There was commotion in the direction of the main stage and a few of her fellow cast members that were singing, could easily be heard as she was walking through the halls. 

The behind the scenes action came to light once she walked through another doorway. Bright lights from the vanity illuminated the room, there were cast members reading from the script, and a few chatting on the couch. It was everything that she imagined and expected.

Luciana Suki was printed behind a black director’s chair next to the person who was playing the main role of Kim, Daisy Beck. Luci was a bit nervous to introduce herself to Daisy because she was one of the most iconic women on Broadway. She’d been acting on Broadway ever since she was a little girl; her mother was the head of the wardrobe crew and her father was part of the sound crew, so she practically bled and was born into the Broadway Theatre. It was easy for her to get her foot in the door because as her parents were busy, they would take her to the theatre and make her sit front row because they couldn’t afford a babysitter. And when the stage director needed a child to step in, they would have Daisy be in the show, and she would play the part effortlessly. She would stand center stage as the protagonist would sing to them while the bright light would shine upon them. Daisy Beck was a professional in all senses—she was the Meryl Streep of Broadway, and that intimidated Luci even more. 

“Hi, Daisy.” Luci greeted, making Daisy turn her head from the mirror to her. “I’m Luci, the second Kim.” She added with a soft chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Luci put her arm out as Daisy stood up from her chair, meeting face to face with her. 

Daisy’s expression held such power and confidence, and although Luci thought of herself as a confident person, Daisy was the different kind of confident; she was a different definition, a better use of a synonym that people most frequently use. She exuded the brilliance of self-assurance and certainty, like it was known to be that she had power. But then Daisy smiled brightly, making some of Luci’s worries wash away, but they were only stored nearby because the smile Daisy had on her face was more of an evil smirk. 

“Daisy Beck.” She introduced herself, quickly shaking Luci’s hand before pulling away just as quickly as the shake. Daisy sat back down at her vanity and placed her Airpods in her ears before her new cast member got another word out. 

Luci gulped, hanging her tote bag on the back of her chair before sitting down. She took a deep breath, easing her quiet nerves that were running around in her body. There was a bit of doubt in her mind about her career and the path she was on, but she quickly flicked it away, concentrating on the positive and the gratitude it took to get where she was, where she was sitting. 

After a few moments of relaxing, easing into the loudness, everyone began to file out the door and head to the stage. 

“Hi, Luci, right?” A brown-haired woman with hazel eyes beamed at Luci, and she couldn’t ignore such a friendly face. 

Luci smiled, shaking her hand. “Yeah, that’s me.” 

“I’m Nina. I play Gigi.” Gigi Van Trahn was a stripper in Miss Saigon at a club called Dreamland, hoping and dreaming for a better life in the States. “Is this your first Broadway show?” She asked curiously. 

Luci shook her head. “I’ve done some shows off-broadway, if you can count that.” She smiled bashfully. She knew that she shouldn’t be embarrassed by being part of the off-broadway community because she had worked her way up, but she hated the weird eyes pointed at her and the whispered judgement everytime she said that she’d been on off-broadway, even though nothing was wrong with it, but for some reason, people had a certain distaste towards it. 

“Yeah, that definitely counts! You should be proud of your upcoming; it’ll be historic once you move your way up.” Nina raised her brows and smirked. Luci smiled, breathing out a giggle. She loved when people were so hopeful of her climbing the ladder of success and dreams, and it made Luci giddy, if she was being honest. 

Everyone made a distorted line across the stage, facing the thousands of red velvet cushioned chairs that would be the cast’s audience. The stage director, Tal, was standing downstage with a clipboard in her hand as she was talking to her assistant and pointing to the clipboard with a pen; the taps of her pen to the wooden clipboard echoed in the silent theatre. Tal was in her mid-forties; she had slick black hair, wore black framed glasses, and had a certain look of sternness that was made for scolding and confronting. Luci made a mental note to not get on her bad side because if looks could kill, then she’d see the light. 

A minute later, they concluded their discussion before looking up. “Good morning, everyone! And we’re back here…again.” A coordinated laugh spread through the cast. “For the people returning: hope you all didn’t forget about me.” A small chuckle erupted. “But we have a couple new faces, so I’ll make this introduction brief and quick; I’m Tal, your stage director. I’ve been working in this business for a long time, so I know what I’m doing. This is my assistant Melanie, she’s just as educated and devoted to this play as I am, so if I’m unavailable, don’t hesitate to take things  up with her.” Everyone nodded understandingly. “This is going to be a wild, stressful ride, but it’s gonna be a hell of a lot of fun, I can promise you that.” 

A few ‘Hell yeah and ‘Period’s flew across the stage as people praised her words. Luci immediately felt comfortable with the space and energy that came from her fellow castmates. She was worried that she would have a constant feeling of being uncomfortable or as if she didn’t belong. But with Nina being so friendly, Tal and the cast uplifting and motivating the room, and minus Daisy’s weird and short attitude, she couldn’t help but feel like she did belong and that this was where she was meant to be. 

Tal told everyone to get into a large circle to do a role call because there were a few new additions to the cast as the original cast before this day had departed from the production because there was either a better opportunity or it was time to say goodbye to this show. 

After Tal individually called each name, the person was to introduce themselves, say what part they were playing, and a hobby they indulged in when they were not on stage. Usually, people didn’t pay attention to icebreakers and introductions because many found them boring, but Luci made sure to be attentive and memorize everyone’s names and faces since she was one of the few who was new to the cast and production. She also tried remembering their hobbies because she figured it would be a great conversation starter while trying to make friends. 

It took quite a while to get to everyone, especially Luci since she was towards the bottom of the list because of her last name. 

“Luciana,” Tal called out. Luci raised her hand, presenting herself with a smile. “Welcome to Miss Saigon.” 

Luci stepped forwards a few inches inside of the circle. “Thank you, Tal and Melanie. Uh, my name is Luciana Suki, you could call me Luci, if you’d like. I’m playing Kim, alongside Miss Daisy Beck.” She looked at Daisy when she said her name, but Daisy had an unamused look on her face, but Luci ignored it. “A hobby of mine when I’m not constantly thinking about my job is knitting—I like to knit. Hats and scarves are my specialty and I have way too many in my closet for my own good, but I’m currently working on a cardigan and will do it for an hour if I have time.” Everyone clapped when she was done, and she stepped back out of the circle and into the line. 

Next on the role call list was Samuel Talum, who had been making serious eye contact with Luci, but she avoided them, looking elsewhere. 

“Hi, I’m Samuel. I play the second Chris. My hobbies include swimming on the roof of Soho.” Everyone laughed, but Luci didn’t seem to see what was so amusing about that, but she figured that was his personality since everyone found that hilarious. 

Samuel looked at Luci as he stepped back into line, and this time, she reciprocated the eye contact. Her arms were crossed, face expressionless, which only made him smirk. 

After introductions, Melanie suggested getting into groups to have a normal conversation to get to know one another and get more comfortable. The circle was concaving as the opposite sides were met. The theatre increased in volume and was filled with chatter and excited squeals; people hugged one another and jumped in circles, hopeful for another great season on Broadway. 

Luci and Nina talked with some of the extras as they mostly asked Luci about her life and where she was from since everyone already knew each other. 

“Hello, ladies.” Samuel walked up to the four women with a charming smile. The three immediately swooned for him as their eyes lit up as if he was the actual Oscar award himself. “Luci, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you.” He gave his full attention to her, taking his hand out. She politely shook his, not expecting him to kiss the back of her hand, locking eyes with her. She hated to admit it, but the action made her heart pound a little harder. Luci pulled away quickly, linking her hands behind her back. 

“Good to meet you as well.” She gave him a small toothless smile. Avoiding his eyes, she looked back at the girls who were blushing and giving Luci a knowing look. They knew Samuel well enough to know when he had a crush, and they could definitely tell that he had a crush on her, to which Luci had a clear vision of it. 

When the first day of ‘rehearsals’ were over, Tal announced that it was the same time tomorrow, and Luci was glad that she was finally had a routine again—waking up at eight in the morning to get her day started and leaving her apartment by nine to get to the theatre just before ten, which was when rehearsals started. Tomorrow’s rehearsals were going to be exciting since it would focus more on the play itself; Luci was itching for tomorrow to come. 

Once Luci walked out of the theatre, saying her goodbyes to Tal and Melanie, and some of the cast that she made friends with, she was met by a fresh, chilly breeze, making goosebumps rise. It was the complete opposite of what she felt like inside the theatre: warm and flushed because there were so many people surrounding her, plus her nerves helped her stay warm; it didn’t help that they cranked up the heat inside the building as well. 

As she was walking, passing by strangers that she’d never see again, she heard her name being called out from the distance. She thought she was hearing things, but she turned around to be met with Samuel who was jogging in her direction. 

“Damn, you left quickly.” He smiled, which Luci had to admit that he was quite attractive—really attractive. A head of soft blonde hair sat perfectly on his head that if she were to mess with it, his hair would only get effortlessly better. His arms were so big and toned that she could see the outline of his muscles through his shirt (or she thinks that he purposely bought a small shirt to make up for the lack of muscles). He was tall, almost a foot taller than her that she had to look up when he spoke, but she didn’t let his height intimidate her. In fact, nothing about Samuel intimidated Luci, although she knew that that was his ultimate goal whenever he met someone new.

“Uh, yeah.” 

“I was thinking…we should hang out sometime.” The suggestion made Luci raise her brows. “You know, since we’re gonna be seeing each other a lot, be co-stars, play the love interest together.” 

Chris Scott, the role Samuel was playing, was a G.I sergeant who is making a return to America from Vietnam. Unexpectedly, he falls in love with Kim, who is a shy, young girl who also works as a stripper at Dreamland because of the fall of her city and the loss of her family from war. The club is run by the Engineer and caters to American soldiers. Kim and Chris have an affair, leading to feelings that are more than lust. Their affair leads to Kim getting pregnant and giving birth to their son, Tam. Eventually, Chris leaves and goes back home without the knowledge that Kim is pregnant. Kim and Chris are separated for years until he learns about his son, so he goes back to Vietnam to find Kim and Tam—the only difference is that he’s married to an American woman named Ellen. Kim urges Ellen that Tam should have a better life in America, rather than living on the streets, but Ellen is wary and refuses because she doesn’t want to lose Chris. Conflict, heartbreak, and unexpected endings flow throughout the plot of the story, making it a hit on Broadway. 

Luci debated in her mind. She figured she could use some friends, some company, and she thinks it worked out perfectly since she was going to be seeing Samuel almost everyday. He got the impression that she wanted nothing to do with him outside of the theatre because of the polite but dismissive attitude towards him, but the look on her face when he proposed the idea was the opposite of what he had seen inside of the building. 

To much consideration, Luci answered, “Sure, why not.” 

Samuel sneered, walking alongside with her to wherever their route took them. It wasn’t like he was up to no good—purposely, at least. So, the two walked side by side, oblivious to what this might cause them. 

April 21, 2017 

Opening night. 

The anxieties were crawling up everyone’s skin as they got into hair, makeup, and costume—specifically in that order. Everything felt rushed, like they were riding in a sports car, waiting to cross the black and white checkered line. But in reality, they were going the speed limit in a residential area. 

Tal and Melanie made sure everyone got to the theatre at least two hours before the red curtain rose because she didn’t want everything to feel like they’re in a high-speed car chase, anticipating a crash. 

The past five weeks had been an exhausting and intense thrill that Luci had never experienced before. The constant movement, the strain of her voice from singing too much, the tears from messing up a line, and the overwhelming fear of screwing up on stage had been her life for the past five weeks. 

The day after introductions and icebreakers, the cast were to do a read through of the play, just to get an idea and feel of the script when rehearsing it with the cast. Since there were two rotations of the cast, the second cast—which was the one Luci was in—were to still attend readings and rehearsals when it was not their day to rehearse. They were to observe and learn the different techniques and acting that the first rotation provided so it would be easier to run through rehearsals without constantly stopping. 

After the read through, which took two days, the rest of the week was followed by table work and blocking. Table work deeply goes into the script; it focuses on analyzing and getting to know your character—basically what purpose a character has. Blocking included roughly running through a scene organically, and seeing what works for both actors and what looks and feels better. 

When the notes have been written down, the actors will stumble through the play without a script in reach. This process had slashed a bit of hope in everyone because of the difficulty in remembering the notes from blocking. Luci was properly beating herself up over it, and Samuel had reassured her that it was fine to make a few mistake since it was new and added in during blocking.

“Hey,” Samuel would call out after hearing another groan come out of her mouth. Luci would look at him with a frown, and he would comfortingly pat her shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay? You got this.” He would then walk away, giving her a wink that made Luci’s insides turn. 

After three days of roughly stumbling through the play, working rehearsals were next. Everyone knew their lines, stage directions, the plot and depth of the characters, and the extra notes from blocking were implied to everyone’s brain. During working rehearsals, the cast needed to find a way to best tell the story to the audience. They worked in a large room that was a few blocks away from the theatre, and it had white tape all over the floor indicating where the character needed to stand. There was no mirror, just a blank wall that was painted black, so it was like they were in the actual theatre. The process was exhausting because the cast would run the entire play back for two more times for three days. So, when Luci got home, it would be five in the evening, and she would be ready to crash and call it a day. 

In between working and dress rehearsals, the tech-crew, stage directors, stage managers, and designers would have their own rehearsals without the cast. They do this to make sure the lighting, music, and set were in motion and work smoothly for the play and audience. During these days, the cast would get a few days off, but they were to not brush the play aside just because they weren’t in rehearsals. They were told to do fittings with the costume crew so they could make their final adjustments for their character’s costumes. It was a more fun and light process where they could just stand on the elevated step and answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ when they’re being asked if it was comfortable or too tight. 

After technical rehearsals, there would be two or three days for Q2Q rehearsals, which meant Cue-to-Cue, and the technical crew and the cast would get together and rehearse the bits where sound and lights were needed, which is almost every scene since it’s a musical and the characters seem to sing as they’re arguing. These rehearsals were very technical and necessary, and it needed to be executed with precision, so the cast and sound crew would be on the same page and in sync. 

Dress rehearsals were more of a sigh in relief. It showcased everyone’s hard work and talent, but it was also a surreal moment because even though they worked and rehearsed every single day for this production, it still didn’t seem real. The few days of dress rehearsals hit the actors in the face because everything was coming together. Tal had let a few groups of people into the theatre to watch and give them a preview of the show so the cast had an audience to perform to during dress rehearsals. 

And the moment everyone had been waiting for: Opening Night. 

The audience was filling the theatre in as security ushered them to their seats. Some took a picture in front of the stage, the influencers held the Playbill program out in front of them, capturing the renaissance theme of the Broadway theatre to post on their Instagram story, and couples who were there for date night. Not to forget, the important journalists, who hyped this play up way before opening night, that were going to critique and judge all throughout the show; they were sitting in the mezzanine, only the best seats in the house as it provided a panoramic view of the entire stage, so they didn’t miss a thing. Broadway critics could be the most hurtful writers, and they have a way of letting people down in the most elegant and sophisticated way that made it seem like their words aren’t so bad. 

Backstage was twice as chaotic as it was on the outside. Although everyone was quiet, humming and whispering the songs, the inside of their minds were driving them crazy. If someone outside of the production who didn't have anything to do with the play, walked into the room, they would immediately feel the tension bouncing off the walls and breaking the mirrors of the vanities. 

Even though it was the first rotation that would be performing today, Luci still felt incredibly nervous because anything could happen. Daisy could get sick or not want to perform, so it would be Luci who would have to step in, unless Tal tells the understudy to. Aside from the nerves, she felt incredibly proud of everyone and her own hard work. Rehearsing for about five hours—sometimes she would stay longer just to get extra help—had tired her out, but she knew that once it was her turn to step on stage, the exhaustion and stress would be completely worth it, and that would be when she knew she made it. 

Luci was in one of the dressing rooms, and she heard a knock as she was buttoning her shirt that was just for show when there was a zipper on the back of her top so it was easier to change when she was in a hurry. She opened the door, revealing Samuel. 

“Hi,” he greeted, getting in the dressing room with her before he closed it behind him. The space was small, so the two were pressed up against one another. He placed a hand on her waist as the other rested against the wall behind her, leaning down to kiss her lips. “How are you?” 

Luci smiled when he pulled away. “Good. You?” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

“Better, now.” He kissed the top of her head and Luci softly smiled, not used to the amount of PDA, even though they were somewhat in private. 

Luci’s just as confused on how she was able to pull Samuel. After the first day of rehearsals when he caught up to her on the sidewalk and asked her to hangout, she found out that he was actually a really outgoing guy; she didn’t expect herself to laugh or actually enjoy herself when she said yes to his invitation. 

After the first week of rehearsals, Tal had directed them to be more connected to their characters—to really feel what they’re feeling. This only enhanced their chemistry as love interests, making them closer. And on Wednesday evening, Samuel invited her over to his apartment. He knew what he wanted when he asked Luci to his place, and he really didn’t want to mess with her feelings, so he decided to be honest. 

“Luci, listen. I just really want to fuck you,” he confessed straightforwardly, making Luci gulp. No one’s ever really admitted that fact to her, so it was quite surprising to hear as well as hot, if she was being honest. “I mean, I like you, of course I do. But I really don’t want a relationship right now, and we’re both stressed with rehearsals, so wanna fuck?” 

He was right, she thought. She was stressed with rehearsals and the move, which she hadn’t even gotten the chance to buy proper furniture because she’s been so busy and also broke, so she could use a good fuck. 

And she told him the same thing when she accepted his offer to hangout; she said, “Sure, why not.” 

So, they’d been messing around ever since then—for the past five weeks. They had kept it on the downlow as he respected Luci’s wishes for not wanting to risk losing her first job on Broadway and have this ‘affair’ affect getting more roles. Samuel reassured her that people date and mess around off stage all the time—Luci raised her brows in suspicion since it was not his first rodeo—but he still kept the affection to a minimum when they were around people, no matter how difficult it was for him. 

He leaned down to kiss her neck, leaving small kisses. “Hmm. Can’t wait to take you back to mine after tonight.” Samuel toyed with the zipper that was stitched on the back of her top. 

“Yeah?” She smirked when he felt him nod against her. 

He lightly nibbled her skin, making her softly gasp. “Gonna make you feel so good.” As lovely as that sounded, she couldn’t risk getting caught in the dressing room, so she pushed him away, earning a small groan that came out of his mouth. 

“How about you save that for next week when it’s our actual opening night?” She said seductively, biting her lip as she refrained from laughing at his eager state. 

“Fine, if you say so. Just know that you’re missing out tonight.” He teased, giving her a peck to her lips before quickly slipping out of the dressing room before anyone saw him. 

Luci looked in the mirror, fixing her hair and taking a deep breath to rid the warmth of her cheeks that Samuel caused. Once she was presentable, smoothing out the creases of her costume, she headed out and heard that there was ten minutes until showtime. 

Everyone was running around with a small flashlight that guided them through the dark backstage. The cast were getting last minute adjustments to their costume and makeup, a last minute run-through with their lines, and warming their vocals up as some of the technical crew were taping a small microphone to the side of their cheek. 

The second rotation cast stayed back, hanging out for moral support for the main cast as it was a huge night for them. Luci was somewhat glad that she wasn’t part of the first cast because she felt like she could still use a lot of work in some scenes, so she had at least a week to get those scenes perfect. 

As the crew walked back, Luci could hear the crew talk to one another through their headset, asking one another if things were set and if everyone was ready to go; the seats were mostly filled, just a few empty seats that were waiting to be filled by the people who were running late. 

“Ready.”

“All set.” 

“Alright, everyone, it’s showtime.” 

The lights went down for a brief minute and a half, making sure the theatre was quiet from people being excited and startled when the room had gone dark, and then the red velvet curtains were pulled to the sides of the stage and the sheer screen was lifted. The orchestra began to play a soft melody as the opening scene started in Dreamland Bar. 

Despite having seen the play multiple times during rehearsals and rehearsing it herself, she was in awe as she watched her cast members in action—true action with an audience in front of them and a very bright light that was shining directly on them. Luci had seen many Broadway productions, but getting to watch it from the side of the stage and actually being part of the production was just something so surreal to her. 

The final scene was coming to an end; the orchestra intensified their music, the lights dimmed, the curtain closed, and the audience clapped—most of the room had given Miss Saigon a standing ovation. The curtain opened once more and the cast ran out to wave and blow kisses at the audience as the volume increased once it had gotten to Daisy Beck, the icon herself. 

And just like that, five weeks of rehearsals and devotion, opening night was over. Luci couldn’t wait until next week because she could practically see the thrill and adrenaline that radiated off of her co-worker’s face, and that was a feeling she had been anticipating for. 

Luci hugged the cast, congratulating them on their special, opening night. Everyone took pictures and videos with one another as they held bouquets of flowers. 

“Daisy!” Luci called out once she approached her. Daisy turned around to be met with Luci’s arms wide open. She gave an emotionless smile, half-hugging Luci shortly as she only leaned her upper body against her but pulled away very quickly. “You did such an amazing job. I was so in awe of you on stage!” Luci exclaimed excitedly. 

“Thank you.” Just like any other actor, no matter how much someone despised a person, they always took the compliment no matter what; it helped their egos grow in size, especially if it was from someone they couldn’t stand. 

“You’re truly so magnificent up there…” As Luci was talking, Daisy’s eyes averted towards the corner where Samuel was standing; he was talking with some of the girls that played strippers at the club in the show. His eyes looked up, meeting Daisy’s eyes before he smirked and brought his attention back to the girls. The corner of her lip turned up, smirking as she felt herself blush from Samuel’s look. 

Daisy and Samuel had some history together in the past. They go way back, all the way back to five years ago when they had roles in Chicago on Broadway. Just like any other cast members, they took a liking towards each other, and eventually got quite close. They both thought that their feelings were plain lust, but it was more of an emotional connection, so they tried being together and it lasted for a while until there were scandals and rumors going around that Daisy had been taking drugs just because she was seen partying with Samuel. The rumors eventually caught up to her, making her skin crawl and blood boil. So, she needed to be selfish and called it quits with him because her career was her pride and joy, and it was the most important thing to her at the time when she was just twenty-two. 

When Daisy found out that Samuel was on board as the cast in Miss Saigon, she was absolutely thrilled because her feelings for him had never dissolved. And the main reason why she was annoyed with Luci on her first day was because she knew that Samuel was going to take a liking towards Luci, which he did; and now, Daisy was aggravated because she wanted her man back but he was too busy occupying himself with Luci. 

Daisy looked back at Luci, pretending to pay attention to what she was saying. Luckily, someone had politely interrupted them, asking Daisy to do an interview with one of the journalists that critiqued the show, which she was ecstatic about. 

When the theatre was empty, everyone left to go to an after party, which was at a posh cocktail lounge—a ten minute walk from the theatre and quite close to Central Park South—so everyone decided to walk; the adrenaline they still had kept them warm in the thirty six degree weather. It was quite late since they left the theatre at around eleven, so Luci decided that she wouldn’t stay long since her commute back home was still further than some of her co-workers. 

The lounge was on the seventh floor of the W Hotel, and it screamed chic and expensive. It was separated into two open rooms, giving complete opposite vibes from each other. The more sophisticated and chic section of the room was filled with grey suede, cushioned sofa chairs with clean glass coffee tables placed in between those chairs. A black grand piano sat in the corner of the room with a large vase of fresh pink lilies and a few vanilla scented candles that were spread across the top of the piano. On one side of the wall were three semi-private booths with cushioned walls and a hexagon-shaped booth with LED lights surrounding the shape. 

The second room, however, was where the full bar was. Something that caught Luci’s, and most people’s, attention was the bright sign that covered the entire wall behind the bar top and the bottles of alcohol. The light blue and red colored lights illuminated the entire section of the room. The bar room had the same type of sofas and tables with a chill-beat type of music that played through the speakers. 

Peter, who played the first ‘Chris,’ had ordered everyone tequila shots; which naturally, made everyone happy as they cheered. Luci couldn’t remember the last time she went to the bar with some friends and completely enjoyed herself; all that had been on her mind before the move was the move itself, auditioning for the play, and her anxieties that came with moving to a city where she knew no one. So, a shot of tequila was very rewarding for her first proper night out in New York City. 

“To a successful opening night! We’re gonna be back here when the second rotation gets their spotlight.” Peter saluted as everyone clinked their shot glasses together; Nina took a video of her and Luci to post on her Instagram story with Luci’s username and the longue tagged in the corner before downing the toxic liquid down their throats.  

Everyone talked amongst themselves when Samuel placed his hand on Luci’s thigh. She quickly turned her head towards him, subtly pushing his hand off of it. He met her eyes, smirking and tilted his head as if he was saying that they should go into the bathroom, but Luci shook her head no, denying his silent request. Samuel rolled his eyes, averting his attention on the rest of the group, and Luci didn’t miss the way he shifted farther from her on the couch. 

Luci was four shots in and she felt a slight buzz run through her head. The waiters were placing more drinks down on their table, but Luci knew she needed to get home, so she decided to call it a night and say her goodbyes to the group. She knew everyone lived relatively close to the theatre and the longue, so she didn’t expect anyone to take the subway with her so late in the night. What she did expect was for Samuel to offer her to spend the night or even walk her to the train station, but he simply waved at her, no private hug or kiss goodbye. So, she left without another word and walked over to the 57th Street Station and took the F Train down to Rockefeller Center where she had to get off and transfer over to the M Train that would take her towards Middle Village-Metropolitan Avenue, and eventually, home. 

On the train, Luci busied herself with a word search that was downloaded on her phone, afraid that she might end up falling asleep on the subway, until the subway stopped at the station she needed to get off at and walked home. 

The click of her heeled boots were quite loud against the wooden floor in the hallway that led to her front door. She lugged her tote bag on her shoulder, fumbling with her keys until she got to her doorstep. Briefly glancing at the neighbor’s door right across from her before turning her back towards it and opening her own, the door behind her suddenly opened. 

Luci quickly turned around, expecting her cute and attractive neighbor, but instead, revealed a woman with red hair, hurriedly putting her coat on. The woman smiled at her, and for a moment, Luci thought she was on the wrong floor, but behind the woman was Harry in a black long sleeve sweater and khaki flared pants. His chocolate brown hair had looked like he ran his fingers through it so many times that it sat effortlessly messy, but Luci didn’t know that the red-haired lady had done it for him. 

She was quite in shock to see him, even though she’d known he lived right across from her. For the time she had been living in New York, she’d barely even gotten a glimpse of him; either their schedules weren't aligned or he was avoiding her. It wasn’t like she was trying to catch him when he walked out of his apartment or in the elevator—maybe she was—but a few neighborly chats were all that she wanted. 

“Hi,” Luci greeted once the woman rounded the corner and away from both of their attentions. 

“Hey, Luci.” Harry softly smiled. 

They both stood in their entryways, awkwardly staring at one another as they didn’t know what else to say. The neighborly chats had gone so much better in her head, and she was mentally rolling her eyes at herself for freezing up so suddenly. 

But luckily, Harry broke the silence. 

“Long night?” 

Luci smiled. “Yeah, kind of. Just came from an afterparty.” 

“Hmm, what was the party for?” Harry raised his chin, puckering his lips slightly. Luci glanced down at his lips, observing how naturally pink they were, or if the lady’s lipstick had transferred over to his. 

She was quite surprised that he was still carrying the conversation, or maybe he was just as nosy as she was. 

“It was for Miss Saigon, the play on Broadway. Today was our official opening night.” She fiddled with her fingers, completely leaning her side against the doorframe. 

Harry slightly nodded. “I’d have to watch it sometime.” 

Now, that brightened Luci up, almost sobering her. She beamed at him, and Harry couldn’t deny the slight blush that appeared on his face once she so stunningly smiled at him. He pursed his lips, refraining from smiling so widely just from the mere sight of her grin. 

“Yes, please do!” He smiled at her excitement before nodding his head. 

A few awkward seconds passed, and Luci had the need to lie down after the day that she had. So, she sat straight up from her leaning position, placing her hand where she was resting to balance herself. “Well, I should get some rest.” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He stood up straight as well, taking a step back into his apartment as his hand held the door handle. “Sleep well, Luci.” 

“You too, Harry. Goodnight.” A yawn took over her and she covered her mouth instantly. “Oh, Harry?” She called out, catching him before he closed the door. He raised his brows, her voice stopped him from shutting the door. “Maybe we could hang out sometime? I could use some friends and you seem really nice,” she suggested. 

Maybe it was the slightest buzz that was wearing off, making her have the need to use up all the rest of the confidence she could gather up in her body and spew out the suggestion. 

But whatever it was, she was glad that she did because Harry answered, “I’d like that.” She gave him a lazy smile, eyes drooping, and Harry knew that she needed to sleep. 

After another bid goodnight, the neighbors both closed their doors for a night’s rest, but not before they both smiled into their pillow and replayed their conversation over and over in their head. 

April 29, 2017 

It was Saturday evening when Luci walked into the Broadway Theatre with the biggest smile she’d ever made in her life. Ignoring the nerves, she was back in the chaos and nervous tension the large theatre held for her very first Broadway show. 

She spent the entire day preparing herself just so everything went smoothly. Her alarm woke her up at 7:30 a.m so she could take a walk around the neighborhood for a fresh start to her day. The sky started out as gloomy while the sun was just waking up as well; and the parts of the neighborhoods that she passed were quiet—the only thing that was heard were the honking cars over the birds flapping their wings above her—since it was the weekend and everyone loved sleeping in on the weekend. 

Luci was still discovering new things, such as stores, dining, and secret passageways while her Nike running shoes padded against the cement of the sidewalk; that's what she loved about New York—there was always something new she’d discover in this city, and it was a never ending journey that never failed to make her gasp and giddy. 

She stopped at a smoothie place before walking back to her apartment; and when she got to her front door, she looked at Harry’s, which she seemed to make a habit out of every time she walked in and out of her apartment, and she wondered if he was awake at this time—he seemed like a morning person, she thought. She debated knocking on his door before she left to go to the theatre to tell her that she was finally performing tonight, but she decided against it, wanting to hang out with him at some place else rather than her workplace. 

After making herself a breakfast to go along with her drink, she took a shower and made sure to take extra care of her skin and body since today was such an important day for her; she wanted to feel good so she could look good, especially for tonight. 

In between brunch hours, her mother called, making her squeal. 

“Hello, mother!” She couldn’t contain her excitement over the phone. 

“Oh, hi, My Lucky! How are you?” Luci could hear the bustling street through the phone as they walked through the city. Ren and Beatrice had flown into New York to watch her on stage as promised; Nathan was planning to fly into the city after work as well. Luci offered to pick them up at the airport, which required a car that she didn’t have, but they decided against it, knowing that she had a specific routine before a show and they didn’t want to interfere with that pattern. 

“Oh, y’know, just doing nothing. Boring, plain, old me,” she joked, making Beatrice chuckle. 

“How’re you handling your nerves?” 

Beatrice always knew that inside the confident exterior that Luci had always presented herself with, there was still a shy and nervous girl that was always so hard on herself. 

“I’m okay, Ma. More excited than nervous, I think, but y’know, once it’s minutes away from showtime, I’m gonna be a nervous mess,” Luci stated honestly, nibbling on the corner of her lip. She got herself comfortable on her forest green sofa that turned into a bed, and draped the tan, soft plush blanket over her legs. Her apartment was finally coming together, and she was thankful for her few days off of work so she could make her apartment feel like home. 

“I know you’ll do great. Plus, all of us are gonna be in the crowd supporting you.” Beatrice encouraged her. “Anyways, I can’t walk and talk at the same time, especially when we’re walking through people, but I just wanted to check up on you. So, I’ll let you go and we’ll see you later! Oh, your father says hi and that he loves you. Bye, my star. Shine your heart.” 

Her mother always talked like she was in a hurry, but it never failed to make Luci smile—it was as if Luci was listening to a voicemail, or remembered a fond memory, or looking at a photograph; Beatrice was a timeless treasure, Ren would say. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly; Luci mostly watched some television on her iPad since she didn’t have a TV yet, caught up on some reading, and lightly went through her lines and quietly sang the songs. Once it hit 3:30, she was out the door and on the subway by 3:45. 

When she walked into the dressing room where everyone was getting ready, her cast members looked at her warily with sympathetic eyes. Luci was confused, but she figured that everyone was just nervous, so she sat down at her vanity and was surprised to see Daisy sitting next to her. She thought that Daisy wouldn’t be here for Luci’s opening night and she was more surprised to see that Daisy was getting ready as she didn’t just want to stand on the sidelines, waiting for Luci to screw up to step right in. 

“Hey,” Luci greeted with a smile, but Daisy simply ignored her, going back to do her makeup. Luci slightly frowned but shrugged it off before she sat down. 

A few moments later, Tal came into the dressing room. 

“Luci,” she called out, making her look up into the mirror, meeting Tal’s eyes. “Can we talk for a minute?” Luci nodded, eyes slightly widening like she was a deer in headlights. She followed Tal out of the dressing room and into a more private room down the hall. 

She crossed her arms as a breeze passed by, sending a chill down Luci’s skin and she wished she had grabbed her jacket on the way out. “What’s up?” 

Tal took a deep breath, not knowing how to break the news to her newest cast member. “So, there’s been a change for tonight,” she started, and Luci wondered if Samuel wasn’t going to play Chris tonight but instead, Peter or the understudy, Michael. Tal looked up, thinking about her words carefully and how to say her words as gently as possible. “Daisy is gonna perform tonight.” 

She wished she hadn’t spoken so soon on how smoothly her day was going. 

Luci stared at her mindlessly, blinking a few times. She felt like she was hearing things or dreaming, like her words hadn’t processed correctly in her brain. But when Tal was giving her a certain look of guilt, that was when Luci knew that her mind wasn’t making anything up. 

“W-What?” 

“I know it was supposed to be your night to perform, but Daisy said that she wanted to perform tonight…” Luci could tell that Tal was holding back on more information. “She said that she doesn’t feel like she needed to rest, so she’s gonna perform every night until she says so.” 

Tears were forming over Luci’s eyes and it suddenly became difficult for her to see or hear. She curled her lips into her mouth, refraining a sob that was settling in the base of her throat. 

“She knows, right? That it’s my night to perform?” 

Tal nodded. “Yeah, she knows quite clearly. I even reminded her, and we got into this argument; she basically told me to choose between her and you, and-” 

“It’s okay,” Luci interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence because she knew that Tal had chosen Daisy, which she didn’t blame Tal for doing because why would anyone choose between the face of Broadway and some actress that no one even knows about? Tal knew that she didn’t have any power over Daisy even though it was Tal’s show and she was the stage director. 

“Luci, I’m sorry. You’re free to go home though, if anyone is gonna step in, then it’ll be Wendy.” Daisy told Tal that she’d rather have the understudy step into her place if anything happened, and who was Tal to say no to her?

Luci nodded sadly, putting her head down for a moment before she looked up. Tal had the same look Luci had on her face because Tal genuinely felt bad that this had to happen. Luci walked away and back into the dressing room to once again, meet everyone’s dreadful stare. She grabbed her belongings, and Daisy pretended to not notice that Luci was there. 

She felt a surge of anger running through her body as she looked at Daisy, and she was not one to let things happen to her without defending herself. What she was going to do could possibly cause Luci her job and maybe any role that she comes across her path because that’s how much power Daisy had, but the power Daisy exposed and portrayed didn’t make her any more powerful than she thought it did. 

“If you’re the reason that’s depriving me of my job, then how about you tell me that. Don’t have people doing that for you because if you really wanted me out of the show, then you would’ve told that to my face right when you met me.” Daisy continued looking into the mirror, but she was alert to Luci’s words. Everyone in the room was silent, listening to the confrontation happening right in front of them. “Just sitting there and not having the urge to look me in the eye and tell me yourself is just downright cowardness.” 

Without another word, Luci left the room, passing by Nina on the way out, asking if she was okay and Luci muttered ‘Yeah, fine’ before huffing out a sarcastic laugh and walking out of the theatre. She felt bad for giving her friend such a cold and short attitude, and she only hoped Nina understood why she was acting that way.

Suddenly, everything felt very…loud. On the outside, there were honking cars, people shouting at those road ragers, and the harsh wind that blew through her ears. All of that contributed to the loud thoughts running through her head, the disappointment of her hopes had made her feel dizzy, and the heartache of her crushed dreams had made her heart sink. Everything had gone smoothly up until now, and she hated herself for thinking this was all too good to be true. 

Luci clutched at her chest as if she was holding her heart in the palm of her hand, signaling it to slow down its erratic beating because she couldn’t keep up. If she had felt heartbreak in the past by dumb boys who didn’t know how to treat her right, the pain that she felt did not compare to having her dream being crushed and ripped away from her in the split of a second. 

Sure, she may be dramatic in that moment, but it was everything that she was feeling and it was a valid feeling. She felt like the world was against her and she was perplexed on how to operate this minor section of her life. 

“Luci?” Through the midst of her chaotic and saddened mind, the voice that called her sounded quite familiar. She turned around, finding Harry standing a distance away from her before he walked forward. 

“Harry…” Her tone was calm as she breathed out a sigh of relief, but her exhale was staggered. Tears glossed over her eyes, making her neighbor and the bright lights blurry, only seeing colored spots until she blinked and her vision cleared up as the tears streamed down her face. 

“I thought it was you. Aren’t you—oh.” Harry was interrupted by the collision of her body as she wrapped her arms around his waist, loudly sobbing in his chest. Usually, she wasn’t like this; she wasn’t one to cry in front of people or show any emotion that she was truly hurt—it just wasn’t her. But she could no longer pretend like the events that happened prior didn't happen, and she really needed some comfort, a hug, anything. 

Luci felt his hesitancy when his arms wrapped around her body, and she felt bad for hugging him without permission, but her comfort had taken priority. When he eventually did take her fragile and shaking body in his arms, it did everything she was looking for justice. The embrace was warm, even when it was cold and windy out; the hug seemed to have warmed both of them up. A sense of safety, and a complete sigh of relief came to mind where Luci felt like she could take a breather for a slight moment. His strong, muscular arms wrapped so perfectly around her that Harry felt like it was him who needed this hug instead of her, but he wouldn’t admit that because she was clearly being vulnerable in front of him, despite just talking less than a handful of times. 

She pulled away, and he suddenly missed the warmth of her body for a split second before his attention turned to her wiping her tears away. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked concerningly. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry for just hugging you out of nowhere, I-I should’ve asked.” Harry stared deeply in her eyes, and even in the state that she was in, her eyes were still bright; the lucidity of the bright lights outside of the theatre sparkled in her eyes, and it made him smile at how beautiful she looked even when she was crying. 

He snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that he hadn't answered her yet. “No, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Just…are you okay?” His concern for her made her feel slightly better. 

“I’m good now. Uh, thank you for the hug,” she said bashfully; he gave her a soft smile, nodding his head. “W-What are you up to tonight?” 

“Oh, uh,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I actually came to watch the play. You mentioned you were in it right?”

Luci’s expression softened. “You came to see me?” She felt like she could cry all over again at the fact that he was at Broadway Theatre to see her perform; her heart flipped instantly. Harry nodded, placing his hands in his black pinstripe trousers. “Well, it’s a good thing you caught me out here before you went in because you’d be disappointed to not see me when the show starts.” He furrowed his brows in confusion, tilting his head to the side like a lost puppy. “It’s a long story…if you have time?” 

Immediately, Luci knew she wanted to keep spending time with him, and she hoped he felt the same. Plus, she was in a vulnerable state, and she needed someone to be with her. 

Harry was hesitant at first, but he realized that she probably needed to vent to someone, so he responded, “Yeah, sure.” 

She smiled softly, wiping the excess tears off her face before walking further away from the theatre; Luci texted her parents and brother in the family group chat saying: not performing tonight :( so I won't be at the theatre. I'll explain later. Seconds later, they blew up her phone with a thread of ‘WHAT?!’ and naturally, Nathan sent a series of curses, making Beatrice scold him in the chat for his language.  

Harry and Luci walked until they landed on a Burger & Fry joint near Times Square. The sound of food made her mouth water, especially after crying; she needed to replenish and hydrate herself. 

The two sat in a pink leather booth; the restaurant had a decent amount of people for a Friday night because the volume of chatter was heard over the music blaring through the speaker. It was a somewhat retro-themed diner with checkered flooring, a jukebox in the corner for show, and the wardrobe the employees were wearing; it was a fun and cool vibe. 

Harry and Luci felt a bit awkward; they both weren’t expecting to end up in a diner together when they were supposed to be inside the theatre. They both avoided eye contact, looking around the very pink restaurant before a waitress arrived at their table and took their order. 

From what Luci could tell, Harry was a quiet and shy guy, but that was just an observable trait, which was half-correct. But the only reason why he was shy was because Harry was closed off and didn’t let too many people in, so sitting down with Luci at a diner—someone he'd only spoken with a couple of times—was very new to him. 

He fiddled with his rings—her personal favorite was the square Ruby gemstone with a gold band—and she knew that she needed to say something quick before he'd never talk to her again. 

“So, Harry, can I ask what you do for a living?” His head propped up from looking at the bubbles from his soda in his Coca Cola glass cup. 

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m a middle school teacher. I teach Language Arts.” 

“Fun! How long have you been teaching?” Luci placed her elbows on the table, interlocking her fingers as she rested her chin on her hands, giving him her full attention. 

“For about eight months.” He told her the basics of his life, not voluntarily, but because Luci asked an abundance of questions and was genuinely interested in his life. 

She learned that he was from Manchester where his sister and mother live and his father lived in Birmingham. He has a cat, which his mom had been taking care of ever since he left to go to college in America. He went to UCLA, becoming a double major in English and Education, which led him to wanting to become a teacher in the midst of essays and research. He decided to stay in America, ending up in New York for the change of scenery (Luci could tell there was more to that story than he led on), and was fortunate enough to get a job at East Side Middle School in Manhattan. 

Harry also mentioned that the four stacks of grading piles had gone down to one, finally being able to have a Friday night free, so he wanted to watch the play. Luci’s lips twitched up, but she curled her lips into her mouth, suppressing a large smile into a small one as she thanked him for wanting to spend his free time watching the show. 

He’d never talked that much, Harry thought. In between his stories and facts about himself, the food had arrived and Luci was still asking him questions. It wasn’t like he minded; he appreciated Luci being so attentive and interested in his life as a way to make small talk and make friends, but those were just the basics that he would tell anyone if they asked. 

Harry then asked how long she’d been acting for and on Broadway. Luci told him that her career started when she was six and had been acting ever since. She shared her aspirations and dreams; becoming part of Broadway was her first dream, which she somewhat achieved, and Hollywood was her next stop whenever the time was right. Harry poured the same energy she did, asking questions and interacting with her answers to those questions. 

Her mood seemed to decline as she explained why she was outside of the theatre crying. 

“It just felt like she ripped my dream from me and ripped it apart. I-I don’t even know when I’m gonna get my chance to perform.” Her lips turned downwards as she felt a new set of tears glaze her eyes, but she pushed them back, not wanting to cry again. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sure it’ll be soon, and whenever that happens, I’ll be there to see you perform on your opening night,” Harry said genuinely; and Luci felt like she could cry all over again, not because of the destruction of her dream that happened in two minutes, but because Harry was possibly one of the sweetest guys she’s ever met. 

He surprised himself with his words, but he meant them. Throughout their conversations and getting to know one another, he felt himself relax a bit more, shoulders slumping. He realized that Luci was a very ambitious and motivated woman, making him admire her quality traits; she was also very easy to talk to, slightly chuckling at a joke that she made because he appreciated badly-made jokes since he made them himself. But maybe he’ll bring out the jokes another time when they hang out again. 

After an hour of staying at the diner and chatting with their table completely cleaned off besides the last-minute decision to order milkshakes, they finally decided to head home. They split the bill—only because it was fair and this unexpected night wasn’t a date—before they got on the subway towards home. They sat on opposite sides of each other, which Luci wasn’t expecting, but when Luci got on the subway cart and took her seat, Harry sat right across from her. 

Once they both reached their respective doors, they gave each other a small smile before mimicking each other’s actions as they turned the key and opened their doors at the same time. Taking one step in, they turned around, standing in their doorways just like all the other times they’d bid their goodbyes to one another. 

“Thank you for tonight, Harry. I really appreciate you being there for me, even if you didn’t have to.” Luci said, leaning against the doorframe. 

He nodded. “You’re welcome. Thank you for a great night as well. I had fun.” His statement made her face lighten up. “Well, goodnight, Luci.” He walked further into his apartment as did she, and she softly waved at him before they closed their doors. 

Despite not performing tonight, her night with Harry wouldn’t have happened if the unfortunate events were fortunate. 

And that was the most positive thing that came out of tonight, and she was really focusing on the positives now. 

come talk to me about your feelings, thoughts, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3 next chapter will be posted next saturday!

[youngerdrgrey]

[excerpt from] I know you (even if you don't want me to) - chapter seven

since I'm hearing how hungry y'all are (cough @aliyahtheghost + @breeleroux especially), here's the start of chapter seven of I know you (even if you don't want me to) -- Ryan's recovery period is nearly up, so Batwoman is (almost) back bbs. Read on for some roommate talk into some WildMoore texting goodness. This chapter is a true fav.

(includes some talk of police brutality / Crow brutality + violence)

Ryan hops from one foot to the other. She keeps the pressure mostly on the pads of her feet. Light and nimble. Finally back at full form with only one day left in her two week recovery period. She’d do a flip if it wouldn’t make Mary’s head explode. Or disrupt the perfect tuck of her Center Volunteer shirt. Then again, Mary does anxiously hover in the doorway of Ryan’s bathroom. Maybe she’ll explode on her own.

“Mary, seriously?” Ryan reaches for her favorite purple lipstick. “I’m making mocktails and guarding the punch bowl. I’m not even dancing. Doctor’s orders.”

The doctor in question stabs a finger out at Ryan. Mary manages to look menacing even in her little scrubs. “If you so much as think about doing the Wobble—” She stomps into the bathroom.

It’s truly one of the greatest dances of all mankind. Ryan crosses her lipstick tube across her heart.

Mary continues, “I’m leaving you to climb up the stairs on your own. No ice pack, or pain meds, or anything.” Mary takes a deep breath. “Fortunately for you….” She walks over to Ryan to adjust the hair on Ryan’s shoulder. “I know someone who might help you out. Depending on how well your side mission is going.”

If they can call Ryan talking to Sophie a side mission. Ryan applies her lipstick and rubs her lips together.

Mary bats expectant eyes towards the mirror. “You’ve been getting along. Can I draft up the offer letter?”

Ryan smacks her lips. “She’s still a Crow, Mary.”

“A Crow you spent, like, all of yesterday on the phone with.”

Ryan didn’t spend all of yesterday on the phone with Sophie. In the morning, they texted about how awful the playlist for the dance might be. Then they swapped bad songs in the afternoon. Ryan’s personal favorite was a religious remix of ‘The Thong Song’ that truly had to be a parody. (“That God, Go-God, God, God.”) Then they told their personal dance horror stories after Sophie was off work. There were breaks.

Before Ryan can defend herself, her phone lights up from beside the sink. Sophie’s name flashes, and Ryan’s got her phone in her hands in seconds. Mary snorts.

Crowphie to Ryan Have fun making Shirley Temples all night. Here’s hoping someone will forget their school ID so there’s some action at the ticket table

Ryan leans her hip into the sink as she types.

Ryan to Crowphie 👀 You’re looking for action at a school dance?

Crowphie to Ryan Oh yeah, fingers crossed my crush saves me a slow one.

It’s a joke. It has to be, but Ryan thinks back to each near moment between them and feels hope and heat in her cheeks.

Ryan to Crowphie Too bad Batwoman doesn’t do dances

Crowphie to Ryan That’s probably for the best. We’re not on the best terms right now.

Not since the night Sophie rejected Batwoman. The night of “Figure that out, and get back to me. Until you do, I’m done.” Did she really mean that?

Ryan to Crowphie What happened there? She miss a signal flip this week?

Crowphie to Ryan haven’t used it. I doubt she’d want me to. I think I hurt her feelings.

That’s an understatement.

Mary clears her throat behind Ryan. Ryan glances up into the mirror to see Mary’s reflection. The teasing grin matches the tilt in Mary’s voice as she says, “You were saying? About not texting Sophie all day?”

Ryan narrows her eyes as dramatically as she can. “Don’t you have lives to save?”

Mary backs away. “Fine, go back to texting, just think about how much fun you could have talking to Sophie on the comms if she were part of the team.”

Ryan can’t help the sarcasm. “Because me and Luke have so much fun?”

“Obviously it’d be a different kind of fun. Less brother-sister fighting and more….” Mary pauses to think and cringes at whatever she thinks of. Ryan turns around to gently push Mary out of her bathroom.

“Good night, Mary!” she says before closing the door behind her roommate. She probably should’ve stepped out there too, come to think of it. Her phone buzzes again though.

Crowphie to Ryan I do miss going up to the roof. You know, feeling like I’m a part of something, even if I never will be

Ryan drops down onto the stool in the bathroom. It’s an accessibility aid that’s kind of perfect for moments like this. She can take her time. Process without having to actually move around in here. Close her eyes and remember what the wind of the rooftop felt like against her cheeks. With the suit tight to her body and all of Gotham below them. Sophie looks amazing up there.

Ryan to Crowphie You could go flip the signal. Send out that city-wide ‘you up?’ Or an actual you up since you have her number.

Sophie hasn’t texted Batwoman once in the last two weeks.

Crowphie to Ryan You don’t understand.

Ryan chuckles. She’s the only other person that could.

Ryan to Crowphie No, I get it. You could text her if you wanted to talk. Going up there would mean that you want to see her. You want to be with her.

Want to touch her the way Ryan did that night on the roof. The pads of her fingers over Sophie’s waist, their faces so close that it’s a wonder Sophie hasn’t recognized her yet. It goes to show that Sophie’s not that into Ryan as Ryan. Hasn’t memorized the way her jaw sits, or the shade of her eyes.

Crowphie to Ryan yeah

Yeah what? Yeah which? Because Sophie didn’t say it back.

Ryan to Crowphie So you admit it? You want Batwoman?

The typing dots come and go, then come again. Maybe it’s not about Batwoman at all. Maybe Sophie just wants to make out on the roof and be a part of the team. She wants to be Batwoman’s friend with benefits and can’t bring herself to admit it. Fine. Don’t admit anything.

Ryan to Crowphie Can’t blame you. She looks good in the suit 😏 — probably looks good out of it too lol

A perfect cop out for the cop.

Crowphie to Ryan If I wanted to see her without the mask, I could have. We flew together, remember?

Ryan tenses. A painful chill zips down her spine. Does Sophie know? Has she known all this time?

Crowphie to Ryan I didn’t look then because it’s not about her looks or who’s behind the mask. She makes me think. Both Batwomen have. 1.0 got me suspended. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to leaving the Crows. But it wasn’t about everyone then, you know? Jacob Kane hated Batwoman, and I really liked her. Those couldn’t exist at the same time. Meanwhile, 2.0 will not remove her boots from my neck. She’s like you in that way. She takes every opportunity to question my loyalty to the Crows and the people of Gotham. I just wish I knew if I was doing the same. If I was more than just another compromise for her

Fuck, it’s a good thing that they’re texting. Ryan’s whole face burns with that message. Since when is Sophie questioning anything? She never wavers.

Ryan to Crowphie Your Crow-workers beat the shit out of Batwoman 1.0, and you stayed.

Crowphie to Ryan Where else was I supposed to go? The GCPD? I *HATE* what they did, but that will NEVER happen again.

Ryan to Sophie And if it does?

She’s being generous by not saying “when it does.”

Crowphie to Ryan Then I slap my resume on the Bat-signal and hope she doesn’t throw it in the shredder.

Ryan to Crowphie Much more fun to use it for target practice.

Crowphie to Ryan Throw a bunch of Batarangs at it?

Ryan to Crowphie See, you get it 😉

Crowphie to Ryan It’s important to me that little Black girls can see women like us in law enforcement and positions of powers. I want them to know that they can save the world if they want to. It’s not their responsibility, but if it’s their purpose? If protecting people makes them happy, then I want them to know that they are not alone out there. They can make a difference.

There are so many other ways to make a difference. Ryan might have to let Sophie have this for now though. Her heart’s in the right place at least.

Ryan to Crowphie And if that doesn’t work out, there’s always being a ticket taker for a community dance. Shine that flashlight. Ruin somebody’s night!

Crowphie to Ryan Wowww. Spoken like a trouble maker.

Ryan to Crowphie Trouble finds me, okay? No need to worry about me, Agent Moore.

Crowphie to Ryan You sure about that? Your kids might try to fight you, just to see if you’ve still got it.

Ryan to Crowphie Oh I’ve got it. They’ll be too busy following you around to even notice me. Ol’ “Miss Sophie, Miss Sophie” punk asses

Crowphie to Ryan LOL. Ten bucks says they ask me where Batwoman’s been hiding.

Ryan to Crowphie Twenty says they don’t.

Crowphie to Ryan Easy money. You can drop it off at the lobby on your way in 😉

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more to come when I drop the rest of the chapter! reply and let me know if you're still with me. try and guess what happens at the dance?

[five-miles-over]

Misery Loves Company (Clay Bidwell x Reader)

Summary: After leaving his hometown and all of its chaos, Clay Bidwell meets the reader at a strange bar and the two of them have a much-needed break from their troubles.

Word Count: 2,262

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death (allusions to suicide), and some references to the film Clay Pigeons

If there was one thing that Clay Bidwell could change, it would be his decision to trust Lester Long. I mean, what the hell was he thinking, trusting some new guy in town with a big old grin to keep him safe. That guy's self-appointed nickname said it all: Lester the Molester. What a son of a bitch. What a smiling, cheery, fucking son of a bitch.

He should've seen something wrong when Lester opened his mouth and laughed like a goddamn coyote. He should've seen something wrong when Lester kept a cheery spirit around a corpse floating around in a river. Who in their right mind wouldn't be freaked out by something so creepy? Clay himself vomited at the sight, way before he could even catch any of the stench from the rotting body.

Until his best friend Earl shot himself in front of Clay, he'd never even seen a dead person before. Even though he was from a town so small that everyone knew everyone else and their business, death was always something so…covert. It was a covered-up thing, something private. The family would have their little funeral, and next week the obituary would show up in the newspapers. No one ever really kept the casket open, and it was just assumed that the deceased were off to a better place.

It turned out Earl was just the first one in a morbid domino effect. Next, Clay's ex-girlfriend was shot dead…while she was fooling around with Clay. Finally, Earl's widow, who was fooling around with Clay before Earl died, was found dead in her own home.

And of course, Clay was found to be the common thread linking all of those murders. The cops tried to string together a bunch of bullshit and frame him - Clay fucking Bidwell - as some serial killer with women issues or something like that. He could still hear Agent Shelby interrogating him. "You're dating one victim, you're having an affair with another, and you find the body of the third. Kind of a coincidence, wouldn't you say?" The agents even came into his house one night and conducted some stupid raid for no reason. Right, they thought he had weapons. But hunting was a tradition in his hometown; almost every guy his age had at least one shot gun in their house, even if it was their dad's or uncle's.

So much for having faith in law enforcement to punish the guilty.

Thank goodness they finally came to their senses and went after Lester Long instead. Clay didn't remember much after watching the police cars chase after Lester. All he wanted to do at that time was leave. Leave this small town, and never look back.

So he did just that. As soon as the sirens began to quiet down, Clay jumped into his creaky pick-up truck, stepped on the gas and drove as far from town as possible. He didn't know where he was going, what direction, what road, or any of that shit. All he knew was that he was leaving the town that had nothing left for him anymore. He drove and drove for hours until the sun went down.

It was a long journey, and Clay found himself thanking his past self for leaving a few beers in the passenger seat. They were all empty by the time that twilight turned into night. Though, if Clay was being honest to himself, it probably wouldn't be enough alcohol for him to forget about spending a night in jail on false accusation, or erase all the death he'd seen.

With some of the money left in his glovebox, he pulled over at some gas station and filled up the tank. According to a sign on the road, he was about fifty miles from some city called Great Falls. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea, Clay thought to himself as he held the diesel nozzle, to try his luck in a big city. He heard stories about people having their own rags-to-riches story by leaving their small hometowns behind for busier places. And if nothing else, it'd be great to try and drive around the state just for the hell of it.

With a sigh, Clay watched as the meter reached its limit and the gasoline stopped flowing through the nozzle. The price wasn't all that bad for its mediocre quality, though it probably meant that Clay would have to sleep in his car tonight. It was hard to gauge the quality of the motels around this unfamiliar place, but he was sure that it would cost a lot more than whatever spare change Clay had left. Better to buy a drink, and get some sleep in the backseat, than to risk sleeping at some flea-infested room and wake up to a missing truck.

He parked the truck close to a neon sign - probably some saloon founded by a jaded business fellow - and walked inside. The place wasn't too crowded, with a few heads turning as soon as Clay walked in. Some of the guys were sitting around a table playing cards, and a lot of the customers seemed like they were regular patrons. Were they outlaws? Probably not. Based on the kinds of guys Clay saw in the saloon he used to go to, those guys drinking were probably just looking for an escape from their deadbeat jobs.

He almost smiled a little when he saw a pool table in the center, though it was strange to him that there was no one playing at the moment. Nevertheless, it reminded him of the good days when Earl and him would perfect their skills. By the time Clay turned nineteen, he was one of the best players in town. If he wasn't so blue right now, he'd be willing to show this new place a trick or two.

Clay looked out the window for a moment as he lit a cigarette. No cops in sight tonight? Good.

Taking a seat at the bar, he continued to people-watch until the bartender came up to him and asked for his order. Just as Clay told the bartender the kind of beer he wanted, you walked right inside and sat next to him.

While the bartender went behind to get the cold bottle, Clay looked you up and down, his lip curling upwards into a tiny boyish smirk. Maybe it was the after-effect of the alcohol from this afternoon, but you looked gorgeous to him…and almost a little mysterious, but also approachable. And you definitely looked nothing like the other customers in the saloon. Maybe you didn't come here often, or you were from another town, just like him.

"Hi."

"Oh…um, hi," Clay stammered, realizing you'd caught him staring. "Um…"

Taking control of the conversation, you introduced yourself to him and reached out to shake his hand. "How do you do?"

"I'm fine. You come here often?"

"Not like this." You shook your head and chuckled to yourself before ordering a drink for yourself. Clay sipped from his beer, listening to you tell him that you used to come here with a partner, on a Friday night after the two of you were done with work. "We had a lot of fun," you told him. "But things eventually just went south, we started fighting, and���I found them in bed with someone they'd been seeing on the side. So I packed my things and left…straight here. My stuff is literally sitting in my car right now."

"I'm sorry," you apologized casually, taking your drink. "I just met you. I don't even know your name and I'm already telling you about my break-up."

"It's fine," he replied with a crooked smile. "I'm Clay, by the way."

"So what brings you here, Clay?"

"Um…just, rough times. Needed to leave." He lied, not wanting to talk much about the things that really forced him here. "Sorry about your break-up. I know what it's like. It really sucks."

"To sucky lives and leaving shitty things behind." You toasted in a mock-celebratory tone, raising your drink and clinking it against his bottle. Clay's smile grew just a bit wider, and he even laughed a little.

The next hour felt like it passed by in the blink of an eye. Over the course of two beers (and who knows how many songs on the jukebox), Clay felt like he'd known you for years. Just by the way you talked about how you were almost done with school, and how much you hated your own little town just like he hated his…it was refreshing, to say the least. You seemed earnest, decent, and probably not tangled up in some kind of crime.

"Do you, by any chance, play?" He asked you after a bit of silence.

"Play what?"

"Um, pool." Clay pointed to the table at the center.

"No, never tried it before."

"I could…I could teach you if you like," he suggested. Now the beer was really taking his toll, making him want to show off a little for you.

"I'd love to learn."

You let him lead you towards the table, where the balls were already arranged for a new game. Clay was really friendly in teaching you the basics, on how to hold the pool stick (which was called a cue). He came up behind you, carefully guiding your hand to the right place on the stick and telling you to keep a good grip. Placing a hand over yours, Clay told you that a good shot involved getting the right angle. With another hand on your waist, he shifted you around nonchalantly so that you faced the right pockets of the table.

The alcohol was quite present in his breath while he spoke, but his voice…damn, you could listen to him talk all night. It was nice that you could get him out of his shell by agreeing to learn. And the way his hands felt on you was pretty nice. Eventually, you were able to make a few combination shots, and Clay was pleased.

"Damn, you're a fast learner."

"Thanks. You're a good teacher."

"Put enough quarters on a table like this one, I sure as hell have to be a pro." Clay bragged a little before the two of you laughed.

Suddenly, you put the stick down and walked closer to him with a smirk, not sure about what had gotten into you. "I…uh, I like the way you put your hands on me," you confessed in a whisper.

Catching your tone, he leaned against the table with a raised eyebrow "You did?"

You gave him a nod and mimicked his posture, leaning against the table as well. "I kinda like you, Clay."

"Yeah…I like you too." He goofily admitted, saying your name like it was something absolutely precious.

Making the first move, you gently pecked him on the cheek and ran your fingers through his messy, dark brown hair. A naughty glint in his green eyes, he took your gesture as encouragement…for something he'd shamelessly thought about since he led you over to the pool table. Boldly wrapping his arms around you, he crashed his lips into yours.

You moaned a little, surprised by how dizzying his kiss felt. "Take this…somewhere else?"

"Fuck, yeah."

The two of you made your way over to a slightly more private booth in the saloon, not wasting any time and continuing your make-out session. Clay didn't hesitate to pin you against the wall, bringing your leg up to get closer to you. Soon, his kisses grew sloppier and hungrier, covering your jawline and your neck. Right now, everything else seemed pretty much like a blur to him.

Kissing him back and lightly tugging at his hair, you painfully gasped his name the moment he got a bit too carried away and sucked at your collarbone. That was definitely going to leave a mark for the next morning…but it was totally worth it.

"Stop," you panted, breaking your lips away from his when you both needed air. "That was…that was...wow."

"Yeah, it really was." Clay agreed, his fingers still brushing your thigh. "You're really pretty. Like movie pretty."

"Maybe you're pretty drunk," you retorted. "A cute, pretty drunk who happens to be great at teaching pool."

"Maybe I'm drunk on you."

"What a line." Giggling, you smoothed your hair before going back to the bar, placing some change for the drink you had.

"You leaving already?" Clay followed you with a surprised and crestfallen expression.

You told him it was almost closing time, pointing out how empty the saloon had gotten since you arrived. "I'll tell you what, Clay." Taking a a pen lying around, you wrote your phone number on a napkin and handed it to him. "It's actually my friend's number, but they'll take a message. Besides, that's where I'm heading to stay until I can find my own place."

"That sounds great. I'll, uh, see you around."

"See you around. Thanks for a great night, Clay." You smiled, leaving him with one last kiss before walking out.

Clay took a long look at the napkin before folding it up and keeping it in his jeans pocket. Throwing some of his change on the bar, he left the bar and sat down in his truck. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the wheel and hoped he'd be sober enough to drive again tomorrow.

[13uswntimagines]

Stupid Games, Stupid Prizes (Alpha!Preath x Omega!Reader)

Request: alpha!Tobin and alpha!Christen fight over omega!reader? You can choose who the reader ends up with.

Hey dudes, I hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it! Hit me up with Requests, Questions or if you just want to say hi! 

This was getting out of hand. You shook your head, watching Tobin’s sulking for as glared at anyone who approached her. Yes, very very out of hand. What had caused the typically chill alpha’s mood to turn sour? That was the Stanford sweater that you were currently wrapped in. The red sweater that smells distinctly like Christen, and you had a feeling that it appearing in your locker wasn’t a huge coincidence. 

The two had been at each other’s throats for the past week, and you were sick and tired of being at the center of their constant game of tug of war. You had thought the idea was stupid, to begin with. The bite marks on your neck and the ones on theirs made the entire effort pointless. But “it’ll be fun they say”, “It’ll make you feel wanted” and help the three of you connect with your more... primal urges, but right now you felt like a toy being fought over by two pups. There was nothing sexy or loving about it.

You huffed, settling back on the bench, blatantly ignoring Christen’s smug grin and Tobin’s pout. “You ok?” Alex asked, settling down on the bench beside you, wrapping an arm around your very tense shoulders, and releasing a wave of soothing pheromones. Alex was like your older sister, her inner omega claiming you as such the moment she set her eyes on you, which wasn’t surprising considering that her mate Kelley’s inner alpha had claimed you the same way. 

“I’m just great,” You sassed, glowering at Tobin who was taunting Christen with the soccer ball. Christen bared her teeth, clacking them together at the cocky alpha. 

“They look like they’re going to rip each other’s heads off,” Mal mumbled as she sat on your other side, and Kelley slid in behind her mate. Kelley would typically be in Mal’s spot, but with Chris and Tobs in this state, she knew that getting too close to you would not be well received by your alpha’s. Plus, her inner alpha wasn’t a fan of the massive amounts of pheromones Chris’s sweatshirt currently had on it. 

“Mmm,” You hummed, leaning further into Alex, allowing her scent to wrap around you like a blanket. Combined with Christen’s scent, it was incredibly relaxing, though you did miss Tobin’s smell. 

“You sure you’re ok?” Kelley asked, peeking over Alex’s shoulder, trying not to get too close. 

“I’m just tired, and I want to cuddle my mates but they’re too busy having a dick measuring contest,” You groaned, cringing when Christen finally snapped and shoved Tobin, stealing the ball away from her and firing it towards the goal. 

“You’re the dumbass that agreed to it in the first place,” Kelley snorted and you rolled your eyes at her, pouting. The premise was that your two alphas would be fighting for your attention, not that they would be unable to stand being in the same room together. In the beginning, it had been fun, watching them squabble and try to get you to wear their cloth or cuddle with just them, but now it was really fucking with your camp routine. 

“Like 2 weeks ago. I thought it’d be over by now,” You growled back, releasing as many dominant scents as you could muster. Kelley was joking and you knew that, but you were tired and cranky and you didn’t want to be teased anymore. 

“I’m sure wearing Chris’s sweater isn’t fanning the flames at all,” Alex chuckled, easing the tension that had settled over you with a little puff of her soothing scent. 

“Kelley’s was unavailable,” You grumbled, burying your nose in the hoodie. 

“Damn right,” Alex laughed back, sinking in the sweatshirt she had stolen from her own alpha. The last time you had taken Kelley’s Stanford sweater by mistake both your alphas and Alex had been pissed. It was disrespectful to wear another alpha’s scent, especially if said alpha was already mated to your best friend. 

“So the thing between Chris and Tobs is a sex thing?” Mal asked, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Something like that,” You smirked at her. Technically it would probably end in a sex thing, but the game was more complex than that. 

“Is it like the time you stole Lindsey’s jacket?” Mal questioned, quirking her head to the side like a small puppy. You laughed at the memory. That had been more for Soran’s benefit than your own, but you supposed the concept was the same. Lindsey had for sure gotten the possessive omega reaction out of Emily. 

“Same game, different rules,” You mumbled thoughtfully, the memory sparking a few ideas in your brain. 

“I still don’t get why the sweatshirt is such a big deal,” Mal huffed, settling back in her seat and pulling a pout that rivaled Tobin’s. 

“You’ll understand when you have an alpha of your own kid,” Kelley laughed, reaching behind you and Alex to pat the young omega’s back. 

“Who are you going to let win?” Alex grinned at you as Tobin finally managed to catch up to Christen and steal the ball away, shoving the shorter woman back. 

“I don’t let anyone win, that’s their problem. All I do is enjoy the show,” You grumbled, huffing when Tobin sent a wink your way and poured when you stuck your tongue out at her. 

“Except you’re not enjoying it?” Mal asked in confusion. You shook your head, throwing your head back with a groan when Chris tackled Tobin for what you assumed was winking at you. This was less of a dominance battle and more of a stupid pudding contest. 

“I was, but now it’s just annoying. They’re acting like pouting pups,” You grumbled, bringing your hands to your face and scrubbing your eyes. You were tired and all you wanted was some cuddling and to not have to choose between your two favorite people. You wanted to snuggle into Chris’s neck while Tobs drew invisible shapes on your back. 

“You could always safeword,” Alex said softly, running her hand down your back and carefully untangling your fingers from your hair. She could feel the frustration rolling off of you in waves, and released her soothing pheromones (along with Kelley) in an attempt to calm your frayed nerves. She carded her fingers through your hair, the corners of her lips turning up when she felt you begin to practically purr in her neck. 

You knew that with one word this stupid game would be over, but that wasn’t the answer. You needed to teach your two donuts a lesson they would never forget. A lesson that would ensure they never drag their stupid games out this long again. If they wanted to play dumbass games, you would show them that they would only win dumbass prizes. 

“I don’t think I need to. I think I have a better way to show them how fucking stupid they are,” You growled into Alex’s neck. 

“You’re going to make them regret this aren’t you?” Kelley chuckled knowingly. 

“Absolutely,” Alex felt you smirk, her smile vanishing. You had one hell of a mean streak in the pitch, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what you had in store for your mates. 

 *****

The end of practice and the ride back to the hotel were relatively uneventful, as Mal clung to you and prevented the brewing argument between your mates over who got to sit with you. She also dragged you to an impromptu movie with Emily and Lindsey. You could have done without the whining from your two adult mates, or the pouts, but not feeling like a rope toy being pulled between two pups was very nice. Soran and Mal’s cuddles were a good substitute for your mates as well, but soon enough it was time for team dinner. 

You were honestly dreading it a little bit. Your alphas were probably going to be mopey and grumpy and you just weren’t in the mood to deal with it. What you hadn’t expected was to walk into the dining room and see that your usual seat between your mates was missing. You growled lightly, your good mood was all but gone as you marched up to your typical table. 

“Why aren’t there enough seats?” You asked, glaring at the very innocent looks Christen and Tobin were shooting your way, and ignoring the giggles from the rest of the table. 

“There are, yours is just a little more padded,” Christen smirked your way, pointing to her lap. You rolled your eyes, trying not to let The annoyed pheromones creeping out of Tobin cloud your judgment. 

“Hop on short stack,” Christen again patting her lap after a few seconds of you staring at her in disbelief, releasing a small puff of her most dominant scent. It called to you in the most sensual way possible. It settled in every crevice of your brain, blinding you to the cocky smirk that She sent Tobin’s way. She was sure that she had won this round. You shook your head trying to clear your vision, only to be met with another delectable scent. It made your mouth water. 

“Or you could sit with me, you know you love how I smell little one,” Tobin murmured, resting her hand on your hip, and pushing her scent towards you in another powerful wave. It threatened to pull you under, but again you shook your head, pulling away from her warm body. 

“As tempting as both those offers are, I told JJ I would sit with her today,” You stuttered quietly, forcing yourself to turn away from the two women and towards the Alpha who had already saved you a chair. You almost laughed at the enraged growl that sounded from your mates, Christen’s fingers on your wrist preventing you from making your way over to where JJ, Sam, Abby, and Rose were seated. You glanced back at your alpha, who was glaring in the direction of the table in question. 

“That isn’t part of the game,” She grit her teeth, her scent changing from sensual to calling for your submission, Tobin’s joining hers. Your fists clenched and your body tensed. The game wasn’t fair if you couldn’t play too. 

“Says who?” You retorted with a snort, pulling your wrist free. The alphas shared a glance before their scents backed off, and they both poured. You grinned at the women, your smile showing far too many teeth to be kind. “That’s what I thought,” You straightened your shirt and skipped off to sit with JJ. 

You knew your alpha’s eyes were on you as you touched her arm, and leaned closer than they would have wanted. They loved JJ, but they weren’t as comfortable with her as they were with Kelley and Lindsey. Three could play at this game, and you were pretty sure that you were winning and you weren’t even trying yet. 

****

You weren’t playing fair, and you knew that. You were using most of your team's fed-upness with your mates to your advantage. They wanted this stupid game to end almost as much as you did, so they were up for whatever they could do to help you. So, you had been taking turns hanging out with all of the alphas besides your own. It was driving them crazy, and you were finally beginning to understand why the hell they had suggested it in the first place. 

Today just happened to be a game-day against the English Women’s National Team, and you were prepared to put an end to this nonsense. It all started with you being late to the bus. The moment you stepped into the vehicle, you could feel your mate's eyes on you, and you purposefully avoided them, instead, finding another alpha’s bright orbs. You smiled at her mischievously and began to make your way towards her. 

“Hey sweet cheeks,” Tobin called as you passed her, finally drawing your attention. You glanced down at her, and she patted the seat next to her. “I saved you a seat and included the cuddles for free,” She sent you a very cute, shy smile, opening her arms invitingly. You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips. 

“Like she wants to be covered in your alpha stench Tobin,” Christen hissed from the other side of the aisle. Tobin around you at her. She had felt how much your omega wanted her cuddles, and the warmth her alpha could offer you. Christen had to go and fuck it up for her. 

“What you think she would prefer yours?” She growled back, releasing a steady stream of dominant pheromones, directed solely at Chris, but inadvertently hitting you as well. You rolled your neck fighting the urge to submit. It seemed as though they forgot you were there entirely. You sighed. 

“She obviously likes my sweater better,” Christen snarled, running her fingers down the side of your favorite Stanford sweater. You internally scolded yourself for wearing the damn thing. You should have known that it would start another pointless alpha battle, but it was just so soft, and you cuddle both of them in it, so their smell was engraved in the fabric. 

“Actually guys, I already promised Becky that I’d help her with her crossword, so you’re both on your own,” You mumbled lowly, stepping past the women and trudging towards Becky. 

“Look what you did,” You heard Tobin whisper after a few seconds.

“Me, this whole thing was your idea,” Christen huffed back. You smiled just a little at Becky, hopefully, this whole thing would be over soon. 

*****

The game against England was as much fun as you thought it was going to be. You had played for Arsenal and Man City, so it was always amazing to go against your old teammates and friends. It also helped that you scored 2 pretty sick goals. 

Your smile widened as you approached Leah, the blond alpha pulling you into a hug the moment you were in reach. You laughed for a moment, smirking at her as you pulled your jersey over your head. Passed it to the English player, who pulled her jersey off and handed it to you. 

Your days in the UK had not been a good time in your relationship with Chris and Tobin. It was just after the Rio Olympics and all of the emotional turmoil that came with it. You had missed the PK and though they wouldn’t say it, you knew that they blamed you for the loss. In a stupid argument they had said that they and the team were better off without you, and witching 24 hours you were in London preparing for practice with your new team. Arsenal. 

Leah had helped you pick up the pieces of your broken heart and sewed yourself back together. She taught you how to love yourself, even when you felt like your mates didn’t love you anymore. Leah was Jordan’s wholeheartedly, but the pair had taken you under their wing. It was a strong bond that your alphas absolutely despised. Maybe it was a low blow to use it against them, but maybe it was the perfect blow to end this stupid game.

Before you could pull the jersey over your head, it was ripped out of your hands, and you were thrown over a shoulder and headed towards the tunnel. You didn’t mind the view of your alpha’s behind, but the dominant pheromones that they were pumping out were making you dizzy. 

****

“You’re ours little omega,” They growled as they pushed you up against the cold tunnel wall. Tobin placing her lips on the left side of your neck and Christen doing the same on your right. Your knees almost buckled as they began to assault your neck in kisses, further marking you as their own. 

“No more games,” You said breathlessly, placing a hand on each of their chests and pushing them back. They didn’t deserve a reward after all the shit that they pulled. You were supposed to be mad at them.

“You broke the rules little one,” Tobin whispered, her lips ghosting over your mating mark, up to your cheek and caressing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Christen decided to lavish her mating mark in kisses. 

“No, you two were being jackasses, so I decided to play. No more games, or find out what other tricks I have in store for the two of you,” You growled, shoving the alpha’s away from you. They pulled their heads away making eye contact with you but still kept you pressed into the wall with their hips. 

“No more games,” Tobin said seriously. Her fingers squeezing your arm lightly, leaning in and placing a sweet kiss on your lips. 

“We’re sorry we were being stupid,” Christen whispered, kissing your cheeks, nose, and lips between each word. You hummed back, suddenly feeling guilty for using the team and Leah against them. 

“I’m sorry that I made you jealous,” You mumbled, suddenly finding your cleats very interesting. Gentle fingers cupped your chin, and soothing pheromones wrapped around you like the softest blanket. Your eyes lifted to meet a set of warm brown and green orbs looking at you concerned. Careful lips touched your own, and you knew that you were forgiven. 

“Well you won, so what’s your prize?” Christen said quietly against your cheek, her body heat warming your whole right side. 

“And cuddles, I deserve cuddles,” You moaned quietly. You had missed being able to be near both of your mates at the same time without them bickering over who you wanted to be with more. 

“lots of cuddles,” Tobin hummed against your skin. Your omega purred at the contact and your cheeks dusted pink when Tobin’s lips quarter up at the sound. 

“And maybe a bath,” Christen hummed, her alpha rumbling loudly in her chest at the content scents pouring off of you. How could they be so wrapped up in their competition that they didn’t notice what you needed? They had a shit ton of making up to do, and they knew just how much you loved skin on skin contact. Her hand splayed across your still bare stomach and she suddenly remembered that you were standing, pressed against the stone tunnel wall where everyone could see in only your sports bra. She slipped off her jersey and brought it over your head to cover you. No one but them got to see your abs. 

“A bath with the two of you sounds nice,” You hummed, laughing loudly when Tobin lifted you bridal style and began to carry you towards the showers, Christen yelling in protest as Tobin raced off without her. Sure they drove you crazy, but at the end of the day they were your mates and you loved them. 

[kitkatopinions]

As much as I like Oscar, do you think it would have been better for Oz to have reincarnated into Ruby instead? She'd be more active in the plot with Salem now focusing on her. We might get a Yang vs Hazel fight when the latter eventually goes after her, and with the whole Lost Fable aftermath, their reactions might be different since its not a random farm boy, so they might be hesitant to yell or attack her.

This is a bit of a complicated question.

There are a couple of problems with Oscar, but a big problem with it is: The show is using Oscar as a main protagonist, rather than Ruby or her team. He's more important to Salem, arguably more central to the plot, and is more active and involved especially in volumes 7 and 8 than Ruby or the rest of her team. As he is not the protagonist, and RWBY is marketed and treated as a show about girls, this is obviously a big problem.

On top of that, Oscar hasn't gotten much personal development despite being treated like the main protagonist, and he contributes to a cast bloat problem. Oscar is essentially a clone of Ruby these days, saying similar things and acting in a very similar way, the only real difference being that he's brutalized where Ruby is coddled, given more moments with villains, etc. Now, this wasn't always the case. Oscar once was more pessimistic, contrasting Ruby's optimism, and more careful, contrasting her recklessness. But now, he's become little more than a second Ruby, overtaking the role of protagonist in her place.

I really like Oscar in V4-6 and I don't think the problem is the idea itself, but rather the writers mishandling bringing him in, alongside their problem with a large bloated cast that keeps getting larger.

As for putting Oz in the heads of other characters, it’s a good base concept if you want to cut down on character bloat, but I personally think putting him in Ruby’s head and making her his host is... Not quite a mistake, but something that could have a lot of pitfalls and problems that anyone attempting this in like a re-write would want to be very careful to avoid. Ruby as a character struggles with feeling like she’s important to the plot and struggles with not being an active character, which makes it very hard to see her as a feminist character or an empowered female character. Putting Ozpin in her head would make her much more plot relevant, but there’s a problem if she’s only relevant because of a man, if the main villain only cares about her because she’s a means to get to a man. What I think is a good goal for re-writes or alterations is making sure Ruby is a much more central and active hero by virtue of her own actions and merit, and that can be accomplished even if she’s Oz’s host, but in my opinion, I would find it very hard to do so.

And making her be Oz’s host has some questionable implications unless you’re also willing to fundamentally change things like how Oz’s soul merging works, and altering how Ozpin typically interacts with and sometimes takes control of his hosts. Consider the moment in V5 when Oscar wants to fight in the Battle of Haven on his own, and Ozpin takes over his body against his wishes. While that’s a moral gray area that I personally can’t blame Ozpin for, that sort of thing gets a bit dicer when you have him in the body of a girl that you want to be central, important, and empowered. For instance, the idea of Pietro controlling Penny’s movements and using her mouth to speak through was very uncomfortable for me to watch, and a lot of that was because of how heavy Penny’s storyline had been about identity and agency (something lots of young women struggle with,) but also just because the idea of a man taking complete control of a woman’s body is uncomfortable to me no matter the circumstances, especially if we’re meant to see said man as a benefactor who’s just doing what he must to protect the girl in question. On top of that, Ruby can’t ever just leave Oz in this scenario. If she doesn’t want to talk to him, she can’t just walk away, if she decided she didn’t want to be in the fight, she can’t just leave because Ozpin is too imperative. And even if Ozpin never does take over her body, he still could, and all of this just feels more uncomfortable with a woman character than it does with a male character, especially when it’s the main female character.

And on top of that, as a mentioned, unless you fundamentally change how Oz’s magic works, you have to contend with the fact that every time Ozpin uses his magic, he slowly merges with Ruby and she absorbs into his personality. Which is obviously... Kind of a big problem, if we want Ruby to be an empowered and centered main protagonist who has a lot of agency and is active.

Again, I’m not saying there’s no way to do a ‘Ruby is Ozpin’s host’ concept well, just that I think it’d be difficult and people who do so would likely struggle with it. I tend to think it isn’t much of a solution to the problems at hand. Having Oz host in other characters who are plot relevant could be a fair solution if you’re struggling with character bloat, like putting him with Ren or Jaune (though with Jaune especially you still have to struggle to have Ruby be the main focus.) I even recently heard of the concept of him living in Mercury’s head rent free, which could be a fun way to set him on the path to redemption early if you’re into that. And heck, it’s easier to deal with the pitfalls of having Ozpin host in a woman character if said character isn’t the main protagonist, like Nora or Emerald (another fun wildcard choice.)

In re-writes, any of the various problems could be worked well around, but as for the show proper... No, I don’t think they should’ve gone with Oz hosting in RWBY, because they would’ve screwed it up. They would’ve done it horribly, and I think it’d be even worse than what we have. Personally, I wish they hadn’t tried to make it ‘girl power’ at all, and had just gone with Jaune as a main character from the start. And that pains me to say, because I’m a long time feminist who is always pushing for better rep for women in media. But I’d rather have a piece of media that has next to no women characters than a piece of media where they’re constantly advertising and marketing and promising strong female characters only to constantly struggle to portray them and constantly sideline them for men. That feels like it’s taking advantage, that feels like a major disappointment, that feels like you’re being cheated, and it feels like they see you as someone they need to pander to but don’t actually want to include.

[thebibliomancer]

Archaia’s Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal Age of Resistance #10

The Journey into the Mondo Levidian Part 2

The true untold tale of All-Maudra Mayrin’s inaugural adventure!

Well, untold in the show. Comic is telling plenty.

In part one, Mayrin becomes All-Maudra and has plenty of unresolved mother issues and insecurity about it. Her first crisis is the growing Sifan separatist movement which threatens to shatter Gelfling solidarity and make her more of a Most-Maudra. She charters a ride with Captain Kam’Lu to go speak to the separatist leader Fenth but the ship goes and sinks.

So far we’ve had a journey so far but not into or Mondo Levidian. We probably should get around to that soon. There’s only three issues left.

So let’s get started!

When the ship sank, Mayrin jumped overboard to save Kam’Lu. Now they’re stranded in the middle of the ocean on a raft.

Mayrin is insistent that they try to find and save the crew of the Scalene Anchor and also Dot. Kam’Lu is equally insistent that No That’s A Terrible Idea. They have no food, no water, and no hope of survival unless they’re lucky enough to find land. They’re in no position to rescue anyone else. Plus...

There are political considerations.

Kam’Lu: “If the other clans believe the Sifans killed the All-Maudra, we’ll never be trusted again.”

He also mentions that Fenth predicted that THIS EXACT SITUATION might happen if the All-Maudra intervened in the Sifan separatist movement.

Huh.

Speaking of Fenth, the plot cuts over to him for a bit.

He learns of the sinking the Scalene Anchor and the presumed death of the New-All-Maudra and thinks hey, its free real estate.

High Councilor Fenth: “That means... There’s no one in line for the All-Maudra’s throne! The seat is vacant!”

skekSa: “How... fortunate! Haha! Ha! Haha! You wanted autonomy for the Sifans! Freedom from the greedy hands of the Vapra clan, yes? That is why honored me with this grand tithing -- to enlist my immortal aid? I am the only one who is sympathetic to your cause. That is why the Skeksis are here. To help Gelfling lead...!”

Call it a shot in the dark but I feel like skekSa was involved in the suspicious sea monster sinking of the Scalene Anchor.

Of course, she’ll probably get away with it. It’d spoil the surprise too early if a Skeksis was caught doing an evil scheme.

Also, look at the ambition on Fenth. Grows up in a matriarchy where clan leaders are always women, where the word for clan leader means ‘clan mother’ and thinks to himself ‘psssh i can do that.’ Good on him. Dream big, guy.

Back over with our mismatched comedy duo, as all Dark Crystal stories must have, Mayrin and Kam’Lu have some mismatched comedy duo banter.

Like her criticizing him for not being able to find land despite being a captain of a ship. And then immediately spotting land while he’s indignantly defending his credentials.

Or her maligning his swimming abilities since he fell off a boat and got knocked unconscious and had to be saved from drowning by her.

So he decides to turn this into a swimming contest, winner gets to be All-Maudra.

Good fun.

Just how I like my Gelfling buddy comedies.

Of course, its all fun and games until the island turns out to be a sea monster that eats them.

And it turns out that the island is a sea monster that eats them.

A mondo levidian, if I had to guess.

Giant turtles passing as landscape. Giant monsters being mistaken for islands. This comic series is too good to me.

So the two slide down the mondo levidian’s throat (gross) MANAGING TO BICKER ON THE WAY DOWN!

Kam’Lu: “Don’t you have wings?!”

Mayrin: “They don’t work well when they’re wet!”

Amazing.

They slide and slorp and flump all the way down to presumably the stomach.

But as they stop to rest, they realize they’re not alone.

Sulub: “Yer some kinda fishie-fish I ain’t ever seen! Betchur tasty! Anyway! No wrigglin’ while I kill ya good!”

OH MY GOD

This comic series is too good to me.

Look at this delightful podling crabtaur.

Once Kam’Lu proves immune to Sulub’s “advanced technology” (ie Sulub stabs Kam’Lu in the foot with a spear), the podcrab agrees to take the two Gelfling to see his village elder.

Sulub actually assumes that Mayrin and Kam’Lu are married and here on honeymoon at the thriving fish digestive system tourism industry I guess. Mayrin claims that Kam’Lu is just a fool and her servant (and Kam’Lu doesn’t speak Podling very well so has no idea about this) and introduces herself as the All-Maudra.

Sulub: “ALL-MAUDRA! The legendary All-Maudra! Well, why didn’t ya say so! Sulub is gilltickled and downright honored to lead ‘the all-powerful and all-knowing’ All-Maudra to our home. You’ll be enjoyin’ to know we’ve kept care of your most regal gifts! Still in pristine condition for havin’ come in a while ago!”

The gut city of Bajula has a statue of the previous All-Maudra, one apparently commissioned when Mayrin was baby.

Huh.

Well. Its helpful to Mayrin that they know about the All-Maudra and are excited to have her here. And that they’re assuming that she sent the statue ahead of herself, like luggage.

Sulub tours Mayrin and Kam’Lu around Bajula. Showing them the goo farms, the visitor center, the fermented... milk wine bar.

The king shows up and is disappointed that the Gelfling want to leave so soon into their visit and asks if Sulub even bothered to show them the goo farms!

But since Mayrin insists that they have important outside stuff to do outside, the king decides to rush through some exposition.

These podling crabs? They’re called Boblings.

Bobling King: “Thousands of trine ago, my tribe set out to explore the Silver Sea as proud, stalwart Podlings! Our regal forefathers were not known to swim, but their bravery was unmatched, and they set out to conquer everything they discovered! All those who would get in their way would be destroyed by the might of the Podlings! Yet there are creatures in this world that are mightier, and the Mondo Leviadin emerged from the Silver Sea and devoured their ships. Thousands of digestive cycles passed as we changed to better suit our new home. Our new world.”

An unstoppable army of Podlings sounds funny until you remember how awesome Hup is. The Mono Levidian may have spared the peoples of Thra a tragic fate.

Also, I’m a big impressed at the lack of linguistic drift. Thousands of trine and Bobling language is indistinguishable from Podling and Gelfling is still recognizable.

Kam’Lu gets fed up with the Bobling King and starts yelling that he’s cold, he’s hungry, he doesn’t want to be in a fish’s guts! Mayrin manages to convince the king by speaking of duty.

Bobling King: “You speak of duty. I know it well. As a leader of my kind, I would do anything for their survival. So yes, I will help you and your servant. Why you married him, I will never know.”

Kam’Lu: “Her what? We’re what?!”

Hah, that misunderstanding is paying dividends.

The king explains that the levidian only surfaces to feed once per trine and that it stays near the surface for a time after feeding.

So if Mayrin and Kam’Lu don’t get to the porticol (blowhole) within eight or so intestinal groans (.... hours??), they’ll be stuck until next trine.

WHICH IS GOING TO BE REAL BAD FOR MAYRIN’S CAREER.

Even though the Boblings are but a simple goo-farming people, the king sends his daughter Gunda, the most skilled hunter in Bajula, to escort them.

Gunda: “But father, the journey as never been done by a single Bobling. You send me into certain danger!”

King: “And do you not crave danger?! My daughter, you are the only one capable and brave enough to undertake such a quest! Please! A duty for your king!”

Gunda: “So be it. I will guide you to the porticol, but know that it is dangerous and uncharted. There are many creatures that call this place home. We must be vigilant. Stalwart. Like my podling ancestors!”

This is a fun little bit because it implies a life and experiences and that these Boblings haven’t just been sitting waiting for protagonists to show up. I mean, they also have been doing that. They have a visitor center set up. But they’ve been living their own dramas.

And off they go! Mayrin, Kam’Lu, and Gunda! On a grand journey to a giant sea monster’s blowhole!

Wait, is this thing a mammal?

So that’s issue 2.

We’re finally in the Mondo Levidian. And now all the protagonists want is to get out. So we’ve got the title, we’ve got an objective, we’ve got some fun side cast, we’ve got a ticking clock before Mayrin and Kam’Lu have to look at the sea monster gut apartment listings, and we’ve got some outside stakes!

Mayrin continues to impress. There’s even a moment right when Kam’Lu rouses after the shipwreck where he seems in awe of her confidence in a crisis.

Kam’Lu has his own personality now that’s not parroting Fenth. Its being a butt monkey, with a slight shade of being a little shit. Between Mayrin giving him shit for supposedly being bad at sailor stuff to getting stabbed in the foot by Boblings twice to being mistaken for Mayrin’s servant-husband, Kam’Lu is having a trying adventure. Plus his ship sank and all of his friends may be dead and if they fail to escape the Mondo Levidian, he’ll go down in history as the idiot that got an All-Maudra killed.

Poor guy.

Gunda has only had two pages to shine and she seems endearing! But it feels weird that Sulub isn’t coming along. He’s the introductory Bobling and all. But I guess speaking only Podling would be an impediment to interacting with Kam’Lu. Still, its weird that he just seems to fade out of the story once the king shows up.

Farewell, Sulub, you funky crab potato.

[ihavelovednone]

Emily & Miguel: Power & control

This post is long - REALLY LONG. I’ve tried to reduce it and separate it - but it’s not really working. So here goes. It’s centered around Emily and Miguel and the power imbalance between them and the abusiveness that he displays. I hope it’s somewhat interesting and not to hard to follow - if you read it in full that is.

The initial power imbalance There are several aspects in Miguel’s and Emily’s relationship that creates a power imbalance between them. First, and probably the one that relates to every other imbalance in their relationship, is the fact that she’s a woman. That doesn’t really need any further explaining. Women are generally seen as the weaker sex and there’s a long since decided role for women that still has deep roots in our society and in Emily’s life it’s very prominent. Dita displays dislike about Emily involving herself in the search for her child for instance. Devante uses a tone that reeks of aw, little girl and Miguel is somewhere in between wanting to be the sole provider and wanting her help.

One more obvious thing is the clear age difference between Miguel and Emily. It’s kinda like a spinn on the stereotypical old husband, young wife trope - except that Miguel, even though he’s no spring chicken, is still relatively young and very attractive. Kurt Sutter and Elgin James are so subtle in the way they decide use a stereotype without stereotyping that if you don’t look closely, you miss it. 

I think they met when Emily was in her final years of college or in law school and Miguel was in the start of his business career - the legal business that is. I have this idea in my head that Miguel tried really hard to impress her and she just rolled her eyes at him. Emily’s smart and strong, opinionated and a fighter, we’ve seen that in season 1 when Emily’s delivered info to Miguel about LO, called Devante out on his misogynistic shit and when she didn’t let herself get intimidated by Potter. She also found the info about the murder of EZ’s mother and called out Miguel’s hypocrisy in season 2. 

At the same time there’s an insecurity within Emily. She’s probably been told several times by her parents that she’s not good enough. When Emily meets Miguel the break-up from EZ is probably still lingering, even if it was awhile ago they ended in a way that never really gave them closure - she didn’t just loose her first love, she lost someone that was a security to her. On top of that she’d lost her baby (yes I say lost because I don’t think she’d have aborted it had the circumstances been different). This probably made Emily more susceptible to Miguel’s charm.

That insecurity is very apparent in season 2 when Miguel starts spending more time with Adelita. He used to worship the ground she walked on, she was his “touchstone” and all of a sudden his work is all about taking Potter down with the help of Adelita and Emily ends up being in the background. There’s a desperation in her actions in that season. She enters territories she’d never actually enter otherwise. She’s so desperate for the Agra Park thing to work because she never chose the cartel, she chose Miguel. 

There’s also a duality with Emily in season 2 - The cartel is, up until the kidnapping of Cristobal, in the background of Emily’s life. She didn’t see, she didn’t hear.  I think she stayed with Miguel in the hopes that he’d liquidate the cartel and go one hundred percent legit but now, he’s rising - he’s making more money and Emily’s spurring him on. Maybe because she wants to be more involved with him, close to him, move Adelita out of the way. She wants to feel needed. It’s a weird dynamic between them, like the abused wife that wants to please her man or something.

Never in control Miguel might’ve initially been a person she found to be what EZ once was - a safe harbor, a home, a lifeline. Not necessarily financial, more emotional. Emily sees Miguels way of treating her with loving words and gifts as affection, maybe she knows that there’s something else under the beautiful exterior, maybe she doesn’t. As Erin said, they choose men that are darkness personified, hinting that they seek it out, it comes naturally - almost as a way to punish themselves for not being good enough. Miguel’s affectionate behavior bleeds into darkness, or maybe his affectionate behavior is actually something sinister altogether - like he feeds on women wanting him, needing him, he uses it to get to them.

In the midst of her vulnerability Miguel displays behaviors of wanting for her to belong to him and no one else, and that’s dangerous and toxic. She doesn’t realize that behavior as problematic until season 2 - even though it starts in season 1 when he propagates to EZ that he need to leave Emily alone - because it complicates things. 

Emily’s very isolated. She has no friends, she’s got no one that’s just hers. Except for EZ when he gets out of prison, and even so, they’re not really friends either. They’re more in limbo than anything. And even though they’ve got a past - she’s got the right to spend time with whoever she wants. Or should have the right. Loyalty to a man does not derive from how few men you’re in contact with as a woman. Emily doesn’t need to go back to her man, or only stay by his side. She’s not Miguel’s property. She’s allowed to have relationships with other men - as long as she’s not actually cheating - and even if she wanted to - she’s could, it doesn’t warrant abuse of any kind.

His want for her to be a housewife - or work close by, offering her a job in his company - is toxic. Why? Well, she’s constantly under his watch, she’s doesn’t have the opportunity to make new acquaintances and friendships without those people having relations to Miguel. If Miguel were to demand information about what a person has spoken to his wife about - they’d tell him - in fear of loosing their job, or their life. Now, had Miguel not displayed other types of weird and controlling behaviors it probably wouldn’t have crossed my mind that she worked for him. It would’ve been fine.

Him having her ride with a platoon and not be left alone is, yeah, you guessed it: TOXIC. Freedom is not something that she has. You might think that Emily, just because she lives in an ocean of money and opportunity that she’s somehow free. She’s not. She has no privacy. And yeah, you could argue that Miguel’s cartel work is dangerous and therefore she needs to be protected - but at what cost? She’s constantly under the watchful eye of Miguel’s lackeys - which becomes more apparent in season 2 when Nestor’s following her every move without her knowing. They work for him - they abide to him. She doesn’t have the ability to do what ever she wants - and when she does, he abuses her, as seen in S01E05. As I said in a post that’s been deleted now: Miguel is, most of the time, abusive without actually doing it himself. He uses his staff to control her.

We’ve never actually seen Miguel give Emily any presents, probably because it’d be very stereotypical of him and Sutter and James want to avoid stereotypes. But I think he’d do something like that, considering his expensive taste in suits, cars and other things - I think he likes showing of how rich he is. 

Miguel comes of as one of those people who’d use presents to stifle someone. The wife’s mad? Get her a meaningless expensive present to shut her up and simultaneously tell her you care for her without actually asking how she’s feeling. She thinks you don’t love her? Diamonds, get her some diamonds. Diamond equals love. Him throwing all kinds of materialistic shit at her is toxic and it doesn’t matter how much he loves her because his behavior ends up being manipulative and controlling every single time. 

The comment you should be grateful feels like something that’d come out of his mouth to (and probably from people on the outside looking in). Not that many women get to live a life in luxury, he’d probably say. Like she should be grateful for something she never really asked for. 

Conclusion This became a long post - probably longer than all my posts so far - combined. There are so many red flags with Miguel and Emily - some of them so subtle you hardly notice them. In the first episode I thought they’d go the whole sugar daddy route which might seem cool and fun in theory. But it’s in fact a very common way for young women to enter prostitution so I’m glad they didn’t go that way with it and display it like it’s no big deal - it’s all fun, look at all the pretty things I get for being a companion. 

Miguel’s abusive behavior is subtle at times and yeah, he loves her and she love him, but it doesn’t matter when the relationship is so unhealthy. Writing this piece has given me a new perspective of the two as well. Emily’s desperate to not loose Miguel - why? Most likely because she’d be on her own otherwise and she’s not really ready for that and Miguel’s behavior is probably something he’s picked up from his childhood and I’m not sure he’s always aware of it. Miguel very insecure. Let’s be honest, no man comfortable within himself would ever restrain a woman’s social circle, career or freedom to roam. 

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part seven

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

     Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

  Operation Whistle-blower

As the first tendrils of sunlight curled through her bedroom’s blind shades, Sarah rolled over in her bed, still unable to fall asleep. Her mind was crowded with thoughts surrounding her evening encounter. What was she going to do? The lines always grew muddy in these situations, and she still didn’t know what to think of Black Noir. If anything, their interaction only added to her confusion.

She was so tired. But nevertheless, she pulled herself into a sitting position and waited for the pounding at her temples to subside. Once it finally did, she stretched and rose from the warm bed.

And so, her morning began. Looking in the mirror, she wondered what had changed. She’d been training for these moments, preparing to execute her plan. When had she gotten so tired? When had she lost her edge? Wherever it went, she needed to find it immediately.

Sarah’s morning routine was precise, meticulous even. First, she made a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up for the day. This was followed by a morning workout, consisting of either jump-rope hiit or strength exercises. She stretched and drank her lemon water. At that point, she always took a shower and decided her look for the day. Outfit, hairstyle, and makeup. Once she was prim and proper, she would head into the kitchen and make herself pancakes, which she considered to be the best start to any morning.

Once she’d cleaned up, she’d gather her things and head out.

On the other hand, Black Noir needed no more than three hours of sleep and often found himself awake throughout the night. He’d spend his time reading, prowling the city, or watching movies. He wasn’t quite sure how it’d started, but one movie every now and then turned into one or two movies a night.

When the sun begins to rise, he starts his routine of suiting up and eating breakfast. He would then enter the combat training room Vought had built for him and that only him and the company knew about. He clocked many hours in that room, constantly training and sharpening his skills. He’d freshen up before heading out for meetings or events.

Sometimes even missions. Now those were his favorites and he often found himself craving one just to be able to let go, to use his abilities. He was a master martial artist and interrogator. He was a spy supplied with strength, durability, and knife proficiency. When they assigned a target, it always ended up classified as ‘terminated’. He never missed, he never failed.

But that morning was like any other, and he had yet another string of meetings. And so, with great composure he completed his morning routine, slipped his mask on, and left his living quarters.

He found that the only thing he might look forward to as much as a mission, was meeting the woman who had captivated his attention that fateful night at the gala. She was different from what he’d originally imagined, still radiant but imperfect. Up close, watching her while she spoke, he had noted a sadness, a maturity in her eyes he wasn’t expecting. For the first time, he was personally invested in another human being, watching over her like a guardian. She was hiding something, and he’d get to the bottom of it soon enough.

..

The day went by in no rush, the hours slowly dragging along. The burning in her eyes and the heaviness of her limbs were nothing when compared to the pounding in her head.

Massaging her temples, Sarah tried to focus on the task at hand.

Someone hovered over her desk, “Long day?”

Sarah hummed before granting her friend some attention. She didn’t like the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Or should I say long night?”

“Hell no, don’t start up with that,” Sarah immediately rejected the image she had conjured up at Martha’s words.

Martha merely huffed in disappointment but respected her wish to keep quiet about it at the moment. You could never really know who is watching or listening.

“All right, all right,” the blonde swept at her bangs. “Are you sure you’re up for tonight?”

Sarah immediately nodded, “Of course, we need to go over a few things.”

Martha watched her closely, “You hide it well, but you really need to slow down.”

She knew her friend meant well and was probably worried over her fatigued state, but there was no time for rest. She could sleep, but it never truly replenished her. It only kept her going.

And who could blame her for it? People who slept well weren’t constantly looking over their shoulder, afraid of being identified and murdered in cold blood. They weren’t leading a plan to take down one of the biggest, most successful pharmaceutical companies in the world. They weren’t being watched by an enhanced, murderous ninja who could tear their head off. Most of all, they didn’t fear burning up and clearing a block in their sleep.

As a little girl, she’d always sleep curled up at the center of the bed, far from the edges. Under no circumstances would she allow a limb to fall over the side. Now, she always slept with an arm hanging out, her fingers inches away from the backpack holding all the necessities to disappear at a moment’s notice. New passport, keys to a safe house, change of clothes, snack bars, lighter, knife, flashlight…

Sarah stirred herself from her thoughts, “It’s fine, I’m just not sleeping that well.”

The other woman pursed her lips.

..

What Martha had been referring to was their weekly night out every Friday. They would either go for dinner at a restaurant or go clubbing if they had to discuss anything in secrecy. That night, they were heading to one of their favorite clubs for dancing and plotting. A club is the perfect place to talk about sensitive information if you find the right spot inside. The loud music masks your words, and most of the people are drinking, buzzed, or completely wasted. And seeing them out together raised no suspicion because it simply looked like friends going out and having fun. Additionally, they got to dance which was always a plus in the two women’s eyes.

Martha often complained that at twenty-seven they were rapidly approaching the deadline for going to clubs, dancing events and such. She was often very dramatic about it, claiming they had to enjoy it before they got labelled as cougars. Sarah always brushed it off with a laugh, not even attempting to reason with her friend’s logic.

And while she enjoyed going to clubs or bars, that night she truly was regretting it. She slipped into a small, refined black dress and hopped into her heels. She’d already done her eye makeup and moved in front of the mirror to apply a rich, dark red lipstick. Her hair was left down, cascading over her shoulders in tight kinks and curls, a cloud of dark brown locks. She pulled her bangs to the side and took in her appearance in the mirror.

Alluring and mysterious, perfect.

Her phone vibrated from an incoming call. “Hey, I’m two minutes away, start locking doors or whatever it is that always makes you late.”

Sarah laughed and started to, indeed, shut her windows and lock the backdoor. She finally made it to the porch where she stood waiting for her friend’s Honda.

Little did she know, a certain someone was hidden on her roof, listening to her move around on the porch beneath him. Black Noir could smell the enticing perfume she’d applied and could hear the characteristic click of heels on wood. He breathed in deeply and restrained himself from jumping down.

She was lightly humming to herself, and he found the tune oddly familiar, but he couldn’t recall when he’d last heard it.

A light grey car rolled around the corner and came to a stop in front of the house.

When Sarah stepped down from the porch and onto the sidewalk, he couldn’t help but hold his breathe. Frozen in his spot, he grew hot at the elegant form-hugging dress she wore, her hips swaying from side to side. Ringlets of dark hair reached down the curve of her back. Where was she going looking like that?

As the car sped away, Black Noir took a few moments to collect himself. She’d completely clouded his mind, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. One of the things that made him so efficient was his ability to focus, always. In any situation, he selected and categorized his surroundings with an ease unlike any other man or woman. He was controlled. No distractions, ever. His outlet was killing, but even then, it was methodical.

But now he felt an underlying tension grow, right under the skin where he couldn’t reach. She was stunning, and he was sure others would think so as well. He’d gouge their eyes out. If he caught anyone catcalling, he’d rip out their tongues. Yes, that’s appropriate.

He shook his head, almost in an attempt to concentrate. Mostly, he was angry with her. Who was she meeting? He sneered at the thought of another man entering the picture.

And so, fueled by possessiveness and an unfathomable jealousy, he followed from the rooftops with an ever-watchful eye.

..

Having already been there multiple times, Sarah and Martha were quick to settle into their usual spot. Taking in the masses of moving bodies around her, Sarah glanced at the people within hearing range. A good rule a thumb was that if she could he hear them speak, so could they hear her.

She moved closer to her friend as Martha started, “I think this is a good time to proceed with everything. I mean, we’re only missing the codes to the lab.”

Sarah snorted, “Yeah, as well as infiltrating the lab, taking the samples and data—like the whole rest of the plan.” She mused, “Oh and don’t forget, we have to live through it and get everything to Max.”

Martha rolled her eyes, “Okay, you’re right but still…,” she took a sip of her drink, “it’s time. There’s a lot of confusion and change at Vought, it could easily be someone else.”

Sarah thought about it. “The plan is pretty solid. It has its risks, but I don’t think there’s any potential plan that doesn’t have any.”

Martha approved, “Exactly. Plus, it fits in with the timeline so we’re good.”

“Yeah….” Sarah trailed off before finally deciding, “I’ll do it next week. I get the algorithm and you crack it.”

Martha high-fived her and downed her drink. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

“To Operation Whistle-blower.”

Sarah smiled, “To Operation Whistle-blower”

After such extensive planning, it felt good to finally act, to make Vought pay. She would just need to hold it together for a little longer, focus and get the job done.

Looking over at the blonde she searched her eyes for doubt or remorse. After all, this wasn’t her battle and she’d gotten wrapped into it almost accidentally. They had met at Mallory’s house as teenagers and had been inseparable ever since. And they made a good team, always looking out for each other in the dangerous world of lies, conspiracies and death they grew up in.

Martha snapped her fingers, “You still with us?”

Laughing at her friend’s impatience, Sarah nodded and focused on the drink in front of her.

“Have you told Mallory how we’re proceeding?”

Growing serious, the brunette shook her head, “I only call at our scheduled time on Sunday. I’ll hint at it then.”

Martha leaned back in her seat, “Yeah, it would be great if she could muddy the waters even more, feed false information here and there.”

“You know she’ll help where she can, but I don’t want her involved,” Sarah repeated for the hundredth time, “She already doesn’t want me doing this, and she’s suffered enough.”

Watching her friend retreat into her thoughts, Martha made the snap decision to get up and literally force her to be present.

“Let’s dance.”

Sarah sputtered, “Well okay.” She stared wide-eyed at her friend, “That was sudden.”

“Well you know all that crap about,” she paused for emphasis, “Ces la vie”

The young brunette stood up and laughed at her friend’s antics as she was swept into the crowd.

Losing themselves to the music, they joined the mass of moving bodies, shaking hips and hands raised. The pounding music had since reached into their chest, their bodies almost vibrating to the fast tempo of the music. It was exhilarating, until Sarah’s head felt like it split open.

Martha touched her neck.

“Oh my god, Sarah what happened,” she yelled over the music.

She dragged her over to a less crowded corner and checked her over for any sign of injury. The bleeding woman could feel her agitation grow and spread throughout her body. Had someone nicked her? She looked back into the crowd, wondering who was hiding in there, waiting to finish her off. The dim lights over the sea of moving bodies concealed everything, both action and sound.

Martha found the source of her bleeding, “Oh god Sarah, it’s your ear, it’s bleeding.” Looking up with knowing eyes she placed her hands on the brunette’s shoulders, steadying her. “Look at me, we’re fine. You need to calm down.”

Sarah’s eyes were traced by thin glowing veins, and her breaths were increasingly shallow. She could feel her heartbeat at the tips of her fingers, her whole body on edge.

When Sarah looked from side to side, Martha lightly shook her to catch her attention. “Hey,” she warned.

Slowly, the net of glowing light blue retreated.

“Are we cool?”

Sarah swallowed, “Yeah, I’m fine now.”

Martha tugged on her hand and led her to the exit. They both knew she needed to go home and fully slow down—come down from her high. The moment of danger had triggered a response that she thought had long went dormant.

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you like that.”

Sarah merely wrapped her arms around her waist. After the moment of scalding hot, she was now left cold, almost shivering.

“Has it happened since last time.”

Sarah stared ahead. “Not really.”

“What do you mean ‘not really’?

The brunette kicked at a small rock on the sidewalk. “When I sleep and I remember things, I feel it. But I wake up each time.”

“Jesus, no wonder you’re not sleeping.” Martha looked over at her pensive friend, “I’m staying over tonight. It can be a sleepover like the old days.”

Sarah smiled at the thought of their wild adventures. Their sleepovers were not what people commonly thought of. There was no braiding, nail polish or barbies. It was training, sparring, and eating abnormal amounts of ice-cream.

“You’re going to rest, and I’m going to make you some tea,” Martha decided.

“So a different kind of sleepover,” Sarah pointed out.

Martha looked over, worry in her eyes. “Yeah, a different kind of sleepover.”

When she stayed silent, the blonde made a light-hearted comment, “You know we need to branch out, get out of our comfort zones so that we can grow as human beings”

At Sarah’s laugh she proceeded, “Maybe we should try braiding your hair, too.”

The brunette raked a hand through the ends of her curly hair, “Please, you don’t have what it takes.”

Laughing, Martha agreed. From behind them, someone called out.

“Hey, girls, wait up.” A stocky man with hard eyes but a blinding smile came to stand way too close for comfort, and they both took a step back.

“Can I get your numbers?”

“Excuse me?”

“Can I get one of your numbers” he asked again, but slower.

They were both getting bad vibes. Sarah sized him up, still rattled from what happened in the club.

“Yeah, we understand English, we just don’t know what you’re trying to achieve here.”

Martha interjected with a disbelieving tone, “Are you trying to get both of our numbers?”

He smirked and ran a hand through his hair, probably thinking he was cute.

“Well, I’ll take what I can get. One or both.”

Martha smiled widely, “Yeah, no, that was the worst attempt to a get a girl’s number in the history of pick-up lines.”

Sarah agreed, “We’re leaving.”

She promptly spun around but was stopped when he grabbed her wrist and shook her. She looked back at him and down at his hold, feeling the energy bubbling right under the surface.

“Come on, I know you want it, no way you weren’t dancing for attention in there.”

And for an instant she got a glimpse into his mind, pictures clouding her thoughts. Her own mind was now spun up, running a thousand miles per hour as her body grew increasingly hot. Martha attempted to catch her attention.

“Come on, let’s go, we’re leaving now.”

But Sarah stood stock still, staring at the man as he grew more and more uncomfortable. Not as bold as before, he tried to back out. When she felt a looser tension on her wrist, she twisted and grabbed onto his, pulling him close.

Her temperature surpassed what would commonly be considered a fever, and she felt the characteristic burning warmth pervading her chest, like ribbons of fire and smoke swirling though her ribcage.

The man started to feel heat on his wrist, and, confused, he tugged. Sarah never moved. And Martha was terrified, not knowing how to knock her friend out of her trance-like state of focus on the disrespectful man in front of them. She had already been on edge, and him grabbing her like that must have sent her barreling over a metaphorical cliff.

Growing scared, he tugged even harder, to no avail. She saw Jason in his features. And suddenly, her skin was so hot, he was burning. She seared the shape of her fingers onto his wrist and ignored the smell of burning skin in the air.

“Oh god, Sarah that’s enough.”

She pressed harder, and he kneeled to the floor, trying to twist out of her grasp.

“Sarah, you’ll blow our cover,” she tried, and finally pleaded, “Marianna.”

That got to her, somewhere in her mind. It shook her and distracted her from the surge of energy building up inside.

Leaning down, she whispered. “You need to learn to respect women. We’re not weak playthings, you hear?”

He nodded insistently, and she finally let him fall back onto the sidewalk, clutching onto his wrist.

Martha watched her, “Now, are we cool?”

Sarah couldn’t quite meet her eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Martha was slightly fuming, but it was worry that truly consumed her.

“You better do some jumping jacks or flap your arms to cool down, because you will not burn my leather seats.”

..

Once they left, the silence in the car was suffocating.

Sarah finally pierced it, “I saw what he was thinking, Martha. Not like I could in the past—just a glimpse.”

She peered out of the window into the night.

“And it was horrible.”

..

Up on the rooftops, Black Noir had watched the interaction with growing frustration.

Ready to make his way down to kill the man, he stopped in his tracks. Was this the secret she’d been hiding? She too was enhanced.

She wasn’t on any of Vought’s lists or indexes, which confirmed the fact that she was using a fake identity. So, if she was hiding, presumably from the company that had made her into what she is, why was she working there? So many questions, and no answers.

And why had the other woman called her Marianna? Was that her true name?

His patience was growing thin, but he decided he wouldn’t advance on her until he had a better understanding of where she stood. He found himself proud of how she’d handled the man. Disappointed that she hadn’t killed him, but proud, nonetheless. If she had simply given over her number, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done. Violent thoughts danced behind his eyes but he wasn't sure he'd be able to carry them out, not on her.

He leapt down from where he was perched and followed the man without a sound.

And in the dark of night, one can only imagine what happened when he finally reached him.

-Giulia

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724​  @proximio-5​ @damiminator

[dirt-cup-draco]

Edmund x Knight!Reader- Becoming Clear

Hi! I love your blog! Could I get a Edmund x Reader where the reader is a knight, and best friends with Lucy and Edmund when they realize they’re in love at a foreign ball one night? Thanks! xx

Warnings: not really any, just flirtatiousness. is that a word?

You felt out of place, back ramrod straight as you observed the ornate courtroom with eagle eyes. Everyone was a danger to your kings and queens and you had to be vigilant. 

“Relax, Y/N! It’s a party!” Lucy instructed, hand skating against your back in an effort to get you to physically let go of some of the tension you were holding onto. 

“We don’t know their intentions,” You pointed out in a low voice, not wishing to offend the foreign diplomats that were your hosts, but wanting Lucy to see that you had been brought along to do a job. You would protect them at all costs and if that meant viewing everyone else as a suspect, you would be happy to find a reason for why anyone here tonight could possibly want to hurt the royals you so adored. 

“Their intentions are to drink until they don’t know their right foot from their left, no relax,” Edmund encouraged, appearing beside you with a smirk resting on his lips. “And dance for god’s sake. You didn’t get in a dress for nothing,” 

You groaned at the reminder, twisting uncomfortably in your corset. “I’m glad that someone else thought ‘oh! internal organs are overrated, why don’t I just crush them for beauty?’ otherwise, I would have to wear a dress without one and that would be just terrible,” You griped, rolling your eyes. Edmund laughed, knowing he had hit a sore spot. Lucy had spent ages convincing you to get dressed up for the event. 

Edmund believed your exact argument had been, “Why can’t I just wear pants? If I need to run someone through with my sword, it’d be useful if I wasn’t tripping over ridiculous skirts. Dresses are stupid,” 

He couldn’t help but admire your curves even if you did seem to be having a hard time breathing. You were beautiful, always had been but it seemed more apparent now. The lights reflected off the slight rouge dusted across your cheeks and the tint on your lips made them appear plumper, more inviting. Edmund set his hand on your back. 

“Fine, if you won’t have any fun I will have to demand that you protect me on the dance floor from all the women trying to marry me,” You couldn’t help but laugh at the pained look on his face. 

“I suppose I can do that,” you agreed, letting him lead you to the center of the floor, your body stiff in his hands as you wound your arms around his shoulders. He laughed softly as you stepped on his toes before the music had even begun to play. 

“Relax, Y/N,” Edmund’s laugh was light and easy, his thumbs drawing circles on your hips as he pulled you closer. “For someone so nimble on their feet, you are a miserable dancer,” 

“Dancing is for stupid people,” You whined, rolling your eyes. Edmund looked at you quizzically and you sighed. “Fine. You aren’t stupid, nor is Lucy. But I can’t say the same for everyone else,” Taking a steady breath you let the knots in your shoulders loosen, even if the dress kept you upright. 

Edmund swayed softly back and forth, letting you mimic the pace. You were biting your lip, watching his feet and trying desperately not to step on his toes again. When you stared to get the hang of it, you smiled brightly and Edmund’s breath caught in his throat. Dear god you were stunning tonight. 

“Y-you look nice,” He coughed out, knowing he couldn’t go the night without mentioning it. You may have not realized but he had already caught several lords attending looking your way with appreciation and something a little less innocent. Edmund held you tighter. You were the best knight they had, it wouldn’t be the same without you.

He knew he was being somewhat irrational. You weren’t interested in lords or even kings for that matter. Edmund had hoped you had caught on to how he felt but it seemed it was going to take time. You were a hard woman to please, and that was one of the reasons he liked you so much. You were your own person and you knew yourself better than anyone ever could, it was admirable.

You couldn’t help but blush slightly at his words, unused to the attention from anyone let alone someone you care for a great deal. “It’s just because you’ve never seen me in makeup our out of trousers before,” You teased but secretly your stomach was filled with butterflies. When Lucy had been convincing you to get dressed up for the ball, the thing that had made your decision for you was hoping that Edmund would like your appearance. 

He was a dear friend, and for that you were grateful, but you wanted more from the king. It seemed impossible, however. You were just one of many knights in the guard and he was at the head of the kingdom alongside his siblings. Your status may be higher than a commoner’s, and status may mean nothing to these four kings, but it mattered to others. Nations would want the kings and queens to marry for peace and with all of them being so damn noble all the time, you feared that they would. 

How could you compete with a princess? 

“I think you look very nice without makeup and your trousers suit you well, I just think tonight you have outdone yourself,” Edmund commented as you nervously played with the wild tresses of his hair. It was a bit longer than usual. His eyes were burning into yours and you were sure that in a moment you would be nothing more than a puddle on the ground.

He smiled softly. You looked away. 

“Just because we are dancing, your majesty, doesn’t mean that you need to say such superfluous things,”

Edmund’s smile only widened. Oh, how bashful you had become.

His hand trailed up your side, breaking away to grip your chin lightly between his fingers so he could look at you. “I wouldn’t say these things if I didn’t mean them. And you know better, none of that ‘your majesty’ stuff. You are stunning Y/N, absolutely beautiful, and you ought to know it,” 

“W-why?” You asked, breathless. Edmund’s attention was intensely focused on you and you couldn’t hardly think. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Edmund asked, eyes hopeful yet searching. He was begging you to see how he felt. 

“It is becoming clear,” You admitted, a twinkle and warmth to his eye that seemed so new yet so familiar. “I just don’t understand how,” 

Edmund shook his head, hand returning to your waist as he twirled you around the dance floor. People watched with envy. You were both quite the sight, strong and beautiful, perfectly in tune with each other’s movements as you talked in low voices. 

“Is it obvious for me as well?” You had to ask.

Edmund brushed his lips against your cheek and your stomach flipped with anticipation. “It’s becoming clear,” He mimicked. 

“Then what do we do?” It seemed like a dream come true but you weren’t sure you could believe it yet. It seemed any moment you would wake up from this dream. This wasn’t your world. Foreign balls, pretty dresses, and Edmund’s affection- it all felt like a fairy tale and you feared that you were lost in a fantasy.

Edmund shrugged, pink staining his cheeks. “I’m not sure either, I’ve never had good luck with women... I care for you and I hope that you care for me. I think whatever happens will happen naturally,” He answered honestly. 

“Would it be natural if I asked to accompany you to your quarters tonight?” You teased and reveled in the way your burst of confidence caused Edmund to grow as red as a tomato. 

“I-I... Um-” He stumbled, now nearly stepping on your toes as he found himself distracted. “I would like that,” He settled on, hands clammy and mind wandering.

“Don’t wait too long, your majesty,” You smiled and Edmund felt his breath get knocked from him as you trailed your lips gently across his jaw. Without another word you were free from his arms and heading towards the door.. He stood still as couples danced around him. Your words had been sinful but not quite as sinful as the thoughts in his head, your lips silky and plump against his skin. 

“Wait for me!” Edmund called out, chasing after you as you spun around to send him a sly wink before you slipped through the doors of the ballroom. 

You were stunning in your dress, but Edmund felt that you would look even more gorgeous tonight once it was discarded.

[gascon-en-exil]

It's still somewhat astounding to me that a single offhand comment about trans headcanons for a Three Houses character got me a torrent of verbose anon hate, all presumably from one very loudly opinionated person. I'm not going to bother responding to those directly or any of the many that will assuredly follow - although I am old enough to be amused by the thought that the same whining the troll makes about trans headcanons contributing nothing to fandom could have been ripped right out of 2000s-era discourse, except back then it was about gay headcanons/fic - but a combination of candor and spite has nonetheless prompted me to put my current project on hold for a moment and talk a little about why I would have trans headcanons at all, and more specifically the kind that I do.

I have in the past suggested that, while I generally identify as cis, my gender has become more fluid in certain circumstances over the past half decade or so. Sexual circumstances, to be precise, to the point that I do now describe myself as "genderfluid in bed" for men who display an interest in such things. The common term for that is feminization kink, and for the men who are into that it usually manifests in little more than a desire to see me in lingerie and/or the use of associated wordplay during sex (ex. calling my hole a pussy/cunt, expressing a desire to impregnate me). I can understand why that might be appealing for some men; gay men collectively have a bunch of hangups with regard to straight men, and while that more often manifests through lewd fantasies of celebrities or watching porn where allegedly straight guys jack off for the camera I can also see in encounters with those men a desire to in essence RP as straight men fucking women. I get that from some bi men too, men who have explicitly enjoyed my natural androgyny and in some cases have even used their sexual experiences with cis women to add some extra flavor to our time together. Obviously this isn't a thing for all or even most gay/bi men - and guys who are looking for more masc partners are unlikely to start talking to me in the first place - but anecdotally speaking there are men of varying self-identified orientations who are into feminized AMAB sexual partners.

Now of course this comes to what is probably a more salient question: am I into that, or is it just one of several types of kink I'm willing to engage in because it broadens my appeal? There's no shortage of that in my sexual CV; I've let men suck on my toes, piss on me, tie me up, flog me, on occasion done all of the above to them, and more - but I'm sufficiently aware of my own interests to know that none of those things really turn me on. Feminization however I do like, so much so that I've noticed that I'm more genuinely attracted to men who treat me in what I perceive to be a feminine way, who take the lead in social situations and in intimacy and who enjoy the contrast in our bodies (these men almost always being bigger, hairier, and hopefully more well-endowed). The concept of treating me as feminine alone carries a ton of culturally specific baggage. The French are traditionally perceived as a more feminine/effete culture in the English-speaking world. Créole women like my female relatives and ancestors are notorious for the way they control their husbands, lovers, children, and (back when we had them) domestics while still constrained by the bounds of patriarchal society. It is through them that I learned most of how I conduct myself around men both in and out of bed, that the easiest way to control a man is to appear to be controlled by him while simultaneously enslaving him to his passions - passions that I intimately understand because I too have a dick. Most of my sexual partners come from backgrounds very different from that, so they have trouble understanding how I approach sex even if I'm trying to form an actual relationship with them. Still, some of them try, and I enjoy it when they do.

I've had trouble opening up about this before on my blog, not because of any trolls (although pissing off trolls is always fun) but because I've never been quite certain of how welcome talking about this would be. Most of the content and resources by, for, and about trans women online I've come across has concerned lesbian trans women, or otherwise centered around trans women's relationships (sexual or otherwise) with other women. As someone who still conceptualizes my gender identity first and foremost in relation to my sexual availability to men, those resources are unsurprisingly not going to speak to me very well. General trans content on Tumblr and other fandom spaces is similarly of little personal appeal, with the users skewing heavily AFAB and therefore more likely to feature trans men. I fully understand why that is, and on occasion I've been known to enjoy M/M porn where one character has a vagina with no explanation. God knows I've fantasized before about having an orifice that lubricates itself, doesn't need to be flushed out before sex, and is naturally built to take a cock. The philosophy behind most trans headcanons does elude me a bit though, as it seems to me like it'd be easier to keep a character's canon AGAB and change their gender identity rather than the reverse. Apparently that approach is much less common, but I can safely say that all of the handful of trans headcanons I've had involve canonically cis male characters imagined as trans female and sexually involved with cis male characters - big surprise there, right?

I get the impression that my perspective could easily be considered antiquated in several ways: that I emphasize sexual activity over the more nebulous sexual attraction when it comes to discussing orientation; that I prioritize my sexual activity over my gender identity; that I believe there exists a liminal space between fem cis gay men and straight trans women, and that there is historical precedence for such a space in pre-modern/early modern queer communities; and that to the extent that I've internalized a feminine gender identity I do so in the context of my relationships with men. Again, a lot of that comes down to culture, to the myriad ways in which queerness in New Orleans has retained its own history and character independent of other queer cultures in the English-speaking world. Maybe some of it sounds outdated, or misogynistic (I've seen that criticism lobbied at drag queens, and it would probably apply here too), or most bizarrely of all transphobic...but it's all nonetheless a part of who I am, and at the end of the day the only people whose opinions on this subject really matter to me are the men who want to take me to bed. To quote a particularly fitting verse from "Sugar Daddy" of Hedwig and the Angry Itch:

So you think only a woman Can truly love a man? Well, you buy me the dress, I'll be more woman Than a man like you can stand

Indeed.

[sourcherrybomb]

SoKai Week 2020 - Day 4 - How to (Incorrectly) Summon a Demon

Synopsis: Sora, a wizard in training, prepares to summon a demon in a desperate attempt to improve his magical prowess. However, things don’t go exactly as planned...

Sneak Peek:  “Hey now, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to stare?” the demoness asks Sora in a playful fashion. “At least focus on my eyes for now, darling.”

Tags: Light Romance, Comedy, Slightly Mature, Slightly Coarse Language, F/M, (It’s not smut, I promise)

Prompt for the Day: AU Day!

Words: 2.4k

Fanart By: karya_mukti (Fiverr)

As a pale moon rises, a wizard-in-training rushes around the confines of a messy tower chamber. Curious-looking tools hang on the walls of the chamber alongside the lamps that light the darkness of the room. Various scrolls, textbooks, and phials of mysterious elixirs are strewn across the floor in a messy and uncaring fashion. The moonlight is let in through a singular, round window, the young wizard waiting for it to line up just right with the carefully detailed magic circle drawn in chalk on the floor.

The trainee’s master would most definitely be angered at the state the room is in. The thought of her in another rage brought a shiver down his spine. Besides making a mess, the various summoning taboos the young man was breaking would be enough to make a more rule-abiding student faint. 

But to Sora, none of that matters. 

After years of messing up and being the laughingstock of his fellow trainees, he would finally have the power to succeed. His days of messing up incantations, having spells blow up in his face, and more would all end once he summoned a powerful enough demon to assist him. Sora wasn’t just aiming for any regular old demon, he was aiming for an Archdemon.

Everything was set up. In the sky was a full moon on the sixth month of the year and the stars of Altair and Vega aligned at the perfect angle. Within Sora was enough mana saved up through the use of elixirs. On his right hand was a special tattoo made to match the summoning circle drawn on the floor. And finally, the coup de grace, a forbidden tome from his master’s personal library, one that would aid in demonic summoning rituals. Written in demontongue, Sora had spent a whole month deciphering the text in secret.

All of these tools would aid Sora in summoning a demon and becoming their master.

Wiping the sweat off his brow, he rolls up the sleeves of his uniform’s cloak. Picking up a book bound in a scaly black leather, Sora opens the ancient tome to a page he had previously marked. Raising his right hand, he waits for the moonlight to shine through the window and line up with the magic circle on the ground.

It’s now or never… he thinks to himself. As the lunar rays make their way across the room, Sora begins to speak.

L'ta raeq yoq aem saowar… 

The marks on his hand begin to glow a crimson red.

Aem nph soin… 

The flames from the candles surrounding the magic circle on the ground change to a violet hue.

Aem aony ardor…

The various runes within the circle begin to glow

Maezzael zes gazina…

The center of the magic circle begins to glow various shades of red.

Oth yaeza qae esaeun zoedabbi!

A blinding red light fills the room as a powerful force knocks Sora backwards and onto the floor, scattering all the texts and tools within the room alongside him. As he rubs the back of his head and his eyes regain focus, the light starts to dissipate. In its place in the middle of the magic circle was a young woman sporting a devilishly smug grin. Garbed in pink and black garments, at first glance she seemed normal, but only if you ignored the blood red horns and demonic wings behind her back.

“Hey now, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to stare?” the demoness asks Sora in a playful fashion. “At least focus on my eyes for now, darling.”

Shifting his surprised gaze away, Sora stands up in confusion. “This… is not what I was expecting to happen.”

The demoness pouts and she inches closer to the young wizard. “Oh, so you didn’t mean to summon little ol’ me?”

“W-well I meant to summon a demon,” Sora stammers out. “Besides the wings and horns, you aren’t exactly what I imagined…”

“Oh don’t forget the tail, darling,” she says as the aforementioned limb slowly wraps itself around Sora’s right hand, eliciting a reaction from him that the demoness finds particularly amusing. “I swear, sometimes it has a mind of its own. As for what you imagined, at least when it comes to Succubi like me, I can’t imagine any other appearance would be as… Sensually inclined.”

“S-succubus?!”

“One of many, darling!” The succubus says as she winks. “What, don’t like what you see?”

“It’s not that I don’t, it’s just-”

“Ah, wonderful! Here I thought you were trying to summon an Incubus.” The succubus stares up and down at Sora. “You certainly do give off the disposition of someone who would do so… But darling, your reaction to me certainly proves otherwise!”

As she laughs, Sora sighs and makes a mental note to watch his words around the demoness. “Listen when I attempted to summon a demon, I was aiming for an Archdemon!”

“One of those prudes?” The succubus scoffs. “Honestly darling, you’re better off with me. Afterall, you did use a summoning circle specifically for succubi.”

“I what?!” Sora grabs the demonic summoning tome off the ground and flips to the page he bookmarked. Pointing at the page, he shows it to the succubus. “Here, doesn’t this read Archdemon?”

Pulling a pair of red glasses from thin air, the demoness reads the page. “Hmmm, nope this is a summoning ritual for me and my many sisters. Demontongue is a complex language for humans, I’m not surprised that-”

Sora lets out a frustrated yell and throws the book at the ground. It’s enough to surprise the succubus and cause the glasses to disappear. “Damn it! Why does this always happen?!” This accident was all too reminiscent of how his magical studies would go. Attempt something, fail, look for a crackpot solution, and fail again.

From behind, the succubus wraps her arms around Sora. “Awww, what’s wrong darling? Want to tell little ol’ me? I promise I’m a good listener.”

“And why do you keep on calling me Darling?” Sora asks angrily. “I have a name, you know!”

Letting go of Sora, the demoness puts her hands on her hips. “Ah yes, and I certainly would love to know it. As much as I adore calling you this little pet name-” Moving closer, she softly strokes Sora’s face. “I’ve been told by many men and women that they love it when I call their names out.”

As she continues to caress Sora’s face, he feels the anger melt away. Amongst other feelings and emotions, the gesture calms him down from his rage.

“Sora… It’s Sora.”

The succubus flashes a warm smile, one much different than the smug one she had been wearing since her summoning. The sight of it is enough to get Sora to blush ever so slightly, something she keeps a mental note of for the future.

“Well then, Sora. I’d imagine it’d be my turn to introduce myself.” As she floats backwards away from Sora, he subconsciously takes a step forward towards the demoness. “I am a Greater Succubus amongst my succubi sisters. My name in its native Demontongue is unpronounceable by most humans, but if I were to roughly translate it, in the human language it would be Kairi.”

That’s… A surprisingly cute name, Sora thinks to himself. “Okay then, Kairi. Is there any way to send you back to the Underworld?”

“My my, Sora!” Kairi feigned surprise. “I didn’t peg you as the type to toss aside a woman if she bored you.”

“N-no! It’s not like that!” he persists. “It’s just that, I did summon you by accident. The least I can do is send you back to your home without issue. I’m starting to think this whole demon summoning thing wasn’t a right fit for me, with me getting the translations wrong and all.”

“Pfft. That literal hellhole isn’t much as a home as you’d think it be. It’s been many decades since I last stepped foot in the human world, in all honesty I'd much rather stay here.” Kairi points at the mark on Sora’s right hand. “Not to mention, that seal on your hand? That’s not just for show, that’s my contract with you.”

“Contract?”

A master who can’t or didn’t read all the instructions, Kairi thinks to herself. This will be fun… 

“Yes, a contract! With this seal I am bound to you until the end of your mortal lifespan.” She says to Sora, lying as easily as she could breathe. After all, the seal was less of a binding contract and more of a leash that could be taken off by the master when needed. 

Looks like I have a new mana reservoir for the next… Let’s say thirty to forty years, tops. Kairi thinks to herself. After all, that’s just enough time to play around with my new boy toy…   

“So I’m stuck with you then?” Sora asks, his voice slightly annoyed.

“Oh darling, I wouldn’t say stuck…” Kairi’s eyes flash red at the idea of being labelled as any sort of burden. “After all, this relationship between you and me is mutually beneficial!”

Sora slightly shrinks back when he sees the demonic red behind Kairi’s eyes. “I-If I may ask, how so?”

A sly grin shows up on Kairi’s face. “I’m glad you asked! It’s quite simple, all you need to do is give me mana daily. In exchange, I will act as a servant both in the magical sense-” Once again, Kairi closes the distance between her and Sora, putting her face barely an inch away from his. “And physical sense. I am a succubus afterall, depriving me of my more carnal desires wouldn’t be the best for either of our interests…”

Sora, being the blushing mess he his, could only let out a nervous laugh.

“Of course, you do seem much younger than most of the people who have summoned me in the past.” Kairi floats away, making space between the two. “How old are you anyways?”

The tight feeling in Sora’s chest fades away as he lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m sixteen as of this year.”

“Tsk tsk. Naughty boy, summoning someone such as myself at your age.” Kairi teases. “For now, your dreams should suffice. At least, until you become of age.”

Deep down, Sora becomes slightly disappointed that he’d have to wait a couple years. However, Hell would be more likely to freeze over before he admitted that to Kairi. Pushing those thoughts away, Sora shakes his head to refocus himself. He may have messed up the summoning, but he was going to make the best of this situation.

“Okay so you say you can help me with my magic,” Sora states. “Even someone as inexperienced as me?”

Kairi lets out a chuckle. “Can you really call yourself that after summoning the wrong demon? There’s definitely potential in you, after all. I had every right to avoid your summons and let one of my sisters take my place, but I chose to answer it.”

“But why?”

“Like I said, I wanted a taste of the human world once again!” Kairi stares out the window, gently smiling as she stares up at the starry sky above. The moonlight shines on her in a way that makes Sora stare in awe. “Oh how much I missed it! The last few masters I had always kept me at arms length, never letting me enjoy my time here. I’m only asking this because you seem to be a kind one, but please don’t be a spoilsport and let me have some innocent fun?”

Can’t help but wonder what your definition of “Innocent” is, Sora thinks to himself. “Okay, then. I’ll make a deal with you then.”

“I’m certainly listening.” Kairi focuses her gaze on Sora.

“I supply you with my mana and let you have your ‘innocent fun’ here in my realm,” Sora says sternly. “In return, you assist me in everything having to do with my magic. Giving my spells more power, creating potions and elixirs, you name it.”

Sora extends his seal-adorned right hand. Smiling, Kairi puts her hand on his.

“It’s a deal then,” she says. Pulling his hand, Kairi once again closes the distance between her and Sora, creating an intimate amount of space between them. “Of course, when you come of age, I have a feeling you’d want to revisit our arrangement to factor in my other services.”

As she speaks, Sora feels her scaly tail stroking his chin. Between that and her suggestive smile, he finds himself paralyzed. Sora finds himself unable to say anything in response. 

I may have bitten off more than I can chew, he thinks to himself as images of what Kairi could do to him fill his mind.

“Now then!” Kairi claps her hands together. “I know it’s nighttime and you might pass out after all the mana you’ve just expended summoning me, but I saw a field of flowers at the base of this tower and I demand you take me to them now!”

I do feel pretty damn tired right now, Sora thinks. Some fresh air might do me good before bed, though.

“Let’s head downstairs then.” As he leads Kairi to the stairs, she does a little spin in the air and follows him.

“You’d best prepare yourself, Sora!” Kairi says. “When you wake up, the first thing you’re doing is making me some human food!”

“Hey now, aren’t I the master here?” Sora asks.

“True, but what woman wouldn’t want to be fed breakfast by their boy toy?”

Sora lets out a sigh. He knew what he was signing up for when he planned to summon a demon, he just never expected their mischievousness to include so much teasing.

Things are about to get a lot more interesting, aren’t they? 

---

Gonna be real, part of me really wants to make this oneshot a multi-fic story. I’d change some details, but I think it’d be doable and a pretty fun experience. Fun fact, the root words for Succubus (succuba) and Incubus (incubāre) actually imply who’s on top or bottom, Succubi being the former with Incubi as the latter. 

(Demon girls ftw, go play Helltaker on Steam. It’s free!)

Since this entry was for AU Day, so I decided to go a bit nuts and write something that’s a bit out there. Like before, thanks to the Sokai: Destined Oath Discord server as well as the member Gee for acting as my Beta Reader!

Thanks for Reading!

[angst-fairygodmother]

I loved your latest SVU Carisi fic! I would love something with Barba, please! Maybe something where he asks a coworker (either a detective or someone from the ME's office) to an event, either because he's lonely or embarrassed to go alone again.

A/N: Can I just say, I appreciate how general these prompts are for SVU because they really give me the room to go where the whim takes me? Because I do (not that I don’t love prompt lists, but this style just works for me with this fandom). I hope you enjoy the direction that this one ended up. Also, I watched several Barba episodes and a bunch of clips for “research” and that was a hole I was not planning to end up back in, but I still love him, apparently. Not quite as much as the first time around, but enough. Word Count: 2804 Tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster

“Mr. Barba! What brings you to my dark little dungeon corner of the world?” you asked, smiling brightly as the ADA strolled into the morgue like it was Central Park at noon.

“Y/N, please. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Rafael, or at least drop the ‘Mr.’ We’ve seen each other’s worst, there’s no need to be so formal,” he said, returning your smile with a small one of his own and a rueful shake of his head.

It was true that you and Rafael had known each other for years, since your school days when your stubborn and shameless self had wormed your way into the DA’s office, allegedly as part of a research project for school (a story that didn’t hold up when you never left). And he, still a young, brash ADA (not that the brash part had changed or ever would), had largely been stuck dealing with you as you poked through records and cases and pointed out all the places that they could have done better with handling the forensics of things. They never chased you out, because it came in handy over time and you had a charm that made your Nancy Drew nosiness, as he had nicknamed it, more amusing than annoying. By the time you had graduated, you were practically a part of the inner circle at that office, and it was easy to leverage that (along with your shining grades of course) into a prime position as a medical examiner.

Of course, the most valuable thing you had gotten out of all of it was still the friendship of Rafael Barba. He’d encouraged you through exams and romantic breakups and personal stresses without blinking and you’d done as much of the same for him as you could. He’d poured your inebriated ass into more taxies than you could count and sent you just as many hangover-cure breakfast deliveries. You’d laughed together, cried together, held each other up when the world seemed to be trying to crush you.

And still, at work at least, you insisted on calling him “Mr. Barba.”

“We have, but you’re also the one who talks about the need to keep professional lives separate.” You shrugged with a smirk. “Besides, it amuses you how much me calling you ‘Mr. Barba’ makes you squirm.”

He rolled his eyes. “I brought lunch.” He held up a familiar paper bag, no doubt containing sandwiches and raspberry turnovers from your favorite diner.

“Not dignifying me with a proper response I see,” you teased. “And bringing me food. Either I’m in trouble or you’re trying to bribe me for a favor. I hope it’s the first one, it’s always more fun.”

Your smirk widened and you waggled your eyebrows at him, waving him over into the little lounge area outside your office and pouring two paper cups of tepid coffee. He silently passed you your sandwich, hoping that you didn’t notice the light blush creeping up around his ears, or his quick intake of breath as you bit into it and moaned involuntarily. You both chewed in silence for a while, and you tried to just enjoy his company, as you usually did. But there was a strange tension in the air, unsettling the comfort of the silence and putting you on edge as you waited for whatever he came to talk to you about.

“Alex and Yelina’s tenth anniversary is coming up,” he said finally, trying to hide the strain in his voice, even though he knew you knew him well enough to notice it anyway.

You nodded silently, a sympathetic grimace on your face. You knew how much it had stung to him to attend the wedding and watch his childhood best friend marry his first love.

“They’re having a charity gala to celebrate. And personally invited me to go.”

You sucked in a hiss through your teeth. “Ouch.”

He nodded dejectedly. “I can’t say no to them. But I don’t know if I can get through the evening.”

“I could write you a doctor’s note. Fake some sort of illness preventing you from…I don’t know being in that large of a crowd or something?”

He laughed, and you smiled at the sound, knowing that it meant things weren’t quite as bad as they could be, and you didn’t need to break into your secret bourbon stash to fix them.

“Actually,” he said, buttoning his jacket and then immediately unbuttoning it again, as you often saw him do before a particularly difficult argument in court. “I was hoping you’d come with me, as my plus one. It’d really help to have a friendly face that I know can hold their own against the vultures.”

You sat in stunned silence for several minutes, staring at him. Your mind raced. Had he just asked you on a date? And if so, did you want to say yes?

When you didn’t answer, he shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat to get your attention. You jumped, startled out of your thoughts by the noise.

“I don’t want to impose; you were the first person I thought of. I know it’s not really your scene. I shouldn’t have asked,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, as if to tell you to forget the whole thing.

“Oh. Sorry, it took me a minute. I guess I just didn’t expect it. I thought you’d ask Olivia or someone, you know. I’d be happy to go with you though. I’d love to, really,” you started at the same time, leading the two of you to be talking over each other like fools.

You both stopped, you trailing off more than his abrupt end, and then you locked eyes and you giggled. After a few seconds of delay, he joined your laughter and soon, there were tears in your eyes and he seemed to be struggling for breath as you took absolute joy in the ridiculousness of it.

“Honestly Raf, I don’t know why you even questioned it,” you said when you had gotten yourself under control again. “Of course I’ll go with you. What else are best friends for?”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed, relief evident on his face.

“So how fancy are we talking? Am I going to need formal wear, or will a nice cocktail dress that covers all the bits be enough?” your eyebrows wiggled again and he chuckled.

~

The night of the event, you were just putting the finishing touches on your appearance – making sure everything was perfect down to every hair in the right place, but not like you tried too hard, wanting to seem like this was not as big of a deal as you had slowly worked yourself up into thinking it might be – when a knock on your door alerted you to Rafael’s arrival. When you answered, you were momentarily stunned, a tux shouldn’t seem all that different than his usual three-piece suits, and yet…

Luckily, he seemed just as thrown off by your appearance, and the pair of you just stared at each other.

Finally, you broke the spell, gesturing lamely behind you. “I just have to uh, grab my bag, and then I’ll be good to go.” You tried to smile at him, but you were pretty sure it came off as more of a discomforted grimace.

And why shouldn’t you be discomforted? All this time, there had never been anything between you (though you would be the first to admit that you had found him attractive when the two of you met). And now, suddenly, you couldn’t look at him without feeling that fizzy, almost nauseous twist in your gut, the flutter of your pulse at the sight of his smile, the overwhelming desire to absolutely wreck his perfectly styled hair and pressed lapel as you pulled him close and ran your hands over every inch of him in a sensuous war for dominance. You tried to tell yourself it was just the occasion, the fact that he had asked you to be his guest to an event that clearly meant a lot to him, and that it really meant nothing. If you could maintain the lie for long enough, you pretended to believe, everything would go back to normal.

The car ride over to the event hall was short, the time filled with a primer on the various important people (both politically and to him) that would be at the party. Most of it was information you already knew, but still, you let him talk, knowing that it made him feel calmer. And then you were linking arms with him, hand delicately wrapped around the fold of his elbow and walking through the grand arching doorway.

“Thus, into hell,” you muttered too low for even him to hear, forcing a smile.

Introductions were made, hands were shook, the air next to cheeks were kissed. You had not yet met the couple of the hour, but you felt like you had met the entire rest of their world, dragged into mind-numbing small talk about stocks and board meetings, policies and constituents (where they were numbers and dollar signs and goals rather than people). At some point, you were separated from Rafael by some women who were absolutely determined to drag you into their conversation about some community center building charity and the related press benefits of visiting the construction site. They all flinched and tittered uncomfortably when you pointed out that their manicures would get ruined and they’d just be interrupting the professionals actually doing the work and wouldn’t it be better to just do a ribbon-cutting photo op when the project was over?

Finally, you managed to extricate yourself and found Rafael by the bar, sucking down a bourbon like no one’s business. He turned to the bartender as you approached and already had a vodka soda waiting when you reached him.

“My hero,” you said taking a deep drink. “Don’t ever leave me alone with those people again.”

“That bad?” he asked, eyes dancing as he smiled at you over the rim of his glass.

“I think I felt my soul exit my body. Twice. Why are you drinking so heavily already?”

“Alex and Yelina just arrived. I managed to duck them, but not before I got to bear witness to the whole…loving couple photo op.”

“Oh. I’m sorry Raf. Still, if they’re here, we should go say our hellos. The sooner we do the sooner we can blow this popsicle stand, yeah?”

He grimaced and finished his drink. “I suppose you’re right.”

He turned to walk away and you tugged him back to face you.

“Wait, here,” you said, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie, fingers skimming his throat in the process and you swore you felt him flinch at the contact. “You were crooked,” you explained.

~

“Rafael!” Yelina said, smiling brightly and pulling him in for a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that,” he said, smiling at her in a way that made a soft twinge in your chest that you tried to pretend wasn’t jealousy.

“Congratulations, both of you,” he said, patting Alex on the shoulder.

“And who is this?” another woman in the crowd, who you thought had been introduced as the wife of some other senator but you hadn’t been paying that much attention, said, gesturing to you. “I mean I know this party is doubling as a charity gala, but you didn’t need to bring an example case.”

“Excuse me?” you snapped, glaring at her.

“Oh you know what I mean darling. It’s not an insult, just stating facts that you obviously don’t belong. It’s little signs, you really do look…fine. But the hair, the clearance rack clothes, and when is the last time you had your nails done?”

“Y/N is one of the most brilliant medical professionals in New York City,” Rafael cut in before you could respond, curling his arm protectively around your waist. “And not that it’s any measure of character, looks fantastic by the way. But it’s an organic, genuine beauty so it’s no surprise that you don’t see it Mrs. Johnsville. After all, you haven’t seen your own genuine appearance in, I’d guess twenty years? Or maybe it’s jealousy causing you to say such spiteful things to the most incredible person in the room. Either way, I’d suggest you stop, before someone brings up your husband’s scandals and causes a scene.”

You turned your head to stare at him, lost for words. There was a not-so-subtle threat in his words, but that didn’t matter to you in light of the things he was saying about you, or the adoring way he said them.

He turned back to his old friends. “Alex, Yelina, I hate to do this, but I’m not going to stand around and let someone insult my date that way. So we’re leaving, but maybe we can get dinner sometime soon and catch up.”

“Of course, Rafi,” Alejandro said, his polite political host smile edging its way toward a smirk. “The four of us will have to do that.”

~

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rafael said, sighing as you both sat in the car. “She had no right to speak to you that way. I…”

“Stop, Raf. It’s not your fault. And you jumped in like a knight in shining armor, no harm done.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, I’m a little disappointed that I got all dressed up for you and I didn’t even get to dance…” you stuck your lower lip out in an exaggerated pout that made him laugh. “But I’m sure you’ll make it up to me somehow.”

“And for having dinner with Alex and Yelina and I. Assuming you’re willing to. Which I totally understand if you’re not.”

“I was wondering if you were going to bring up that invitation,” you laughed. “And of course I’m willing. I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to to get it through your skull, I’ll do anything for you, Raf.”

Suddenly you had a brilliant idea and you looked over at him with a grin.

“Uh-oh, I know that look…”

“You know what’s better than dancing and wining and dining when you’re dressed to the nines?” you said, eyes aglow the longer you thought about it.

“What?”

“Being dressed to the nines to eat greasy diner burgers! Let’s go to Hank’s!” You grabbed the hand that rested on the center console in both of yours, pulling it close to you and batting your eyelashes pleadingly at him.

He groaned and shook his head. “Alright.”

~

“You know,” Rafael said, shifting nervously as he walked you to the door of your building. “There was a bit of a wreck in the middle, but all in all, this wasn’t such a bad first date.”

“Is that what this was?” you asked, heart skipping a beat as your both stopped on the steps.

“Would you be mad if I said yes?”

“A little. I mean, you could have told me sooner. I would have done way cuter shit all night.”

He laughed, looking at you softly. “I don’t need you to do cuter shit. You’re perfect the way you are.”

“See, shit like that,” you waved your hands around in frustration. “I don’t have a good comeback compliment for you because I wasn’t expecting it. You threw me off my game, charming bastard.”

“Y/N…”

“If this was a date, I believe a goodnight kiss is traditional,” you smiled.

He leaned in, close enough for you to smell the cologne he wore and the alcohol he’d had earlier and the spearmint breath mint he’d picked up from beside the diner’s register when he’d insisted on paying. His lips brushed lightly against yours but he quickly pulled away, just enough to look you in the eyes.

“You’d better not be calling that my kiss,” you teased.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

Sighing in exasperation, you did as you’d imagined earlier and grabbed him by the lapels to tug him closer and press your lips to his. He sighed against your mouth, bringing one hand up to cup the back of your head gently and hold you closer, the other arm wrapping tightly around your waist. Your lips parted, opening up to him and your tongues danced together like it was what they were designed for.

Gasping for air, you both pulled away, and he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Thank you for tonight,” he whispered.

“Night’s not over, yet,” you answered with a shrug.

“What?”

The words felt inevitable, but right, as they worked their way through your throat.

“Do you want to come upstairs, Raf? We can watch a movie or…dance…”

[laufire]

Supernatural s2

I’m halfway through s3 already (technically a rewatch, but there were episodes I didn’t watch the first time around), so this post is a little overdue lol. At this rhythim the posts will overlap. Plus I’m hoping I can finish s4-5 during the holidays to see the ~intended ending~ before I have to slow down on the binge-watch. After that, a season a month sounds achievable AND won’t take longer than 2021 xD

ANYWAY.

-Overall, I’ve enjoyed it more than the first one, but at the same time I’ve found myself missing how... claustrophobic? Insular? Compact? That one was. s2 was about the world opening up just a little bit more, introducing new characters to the brothers’ life, etc. I do love the detail that this is something that can only have, narratively speaking, once John is dead. Again: this show gets abusive families, consciously or not.

-The foreshadowing is beautifully done. 15 seasons make for a lot of unintentional and ironic foreshadowing later on, I’m sure, but the purposeful foreshadowing is superb this season. About the crossroads deals, of course, but especially about John’s last words. I already knew he’d told Dean he might have to kill Sam (father of the year, seriously. Though I side-eye the fandom even more for always having acted as if this is only awful for Dean lol), so I was hyperaware of every single detail. My favourite moment was the absolute horror of hearing Gordon proudly, cheerfully relate how he murdered his sister when she became a vampire (which, btw, as someone that’s still bitter about what went down with the Gunn siblings on Angel, I found it healing to see something like that treated as a horror story).

-Speaking of Gordon: I unashamedly love his character lmfao. Sterling K. Brown is mesmerizing, always. At the same time, I have serious mixed feelings (especially after seeing his arc in full in s3) because man, if it isn’t a racist mess. I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s not exactly revolutionary that the first time we see the story from the monster’s POV (something I want the show to do! Often!), it’s when white monsters are stalked and brutalized by our first black hunter. Especifically a white woman, btw (although I’m happy to see Tara Maclay as a brunette vampire. I didn’t know I needed that in my life, but I did). And you can tell that the show thinks it’s just so SMART and FUNNY to have a ~racist black hunter!! I mean, the comment about how psychic kids would be “betraying their race” if they allied with demons?? FFS.

And ofc there’s the fact that he’s condemned for the exact same type of stuff that makes Dean be hailed as a hero lmfao. Though I won’t like, I love the moment where, faced with the comparison, Dean’s response is “I might be like you, I might not. But you’re the one tied up.” I love those kinds of character moments. As of s2 I officially have a love-hate relationship with Dean Winchester, I hate it here xDD

But still, on his own, Gordon is an amazing character (it’s one of the most frustrating things about the show, the greatness tainted by the bigotry :))). Charismatic, terrifying, and ofc superbly acted. Also, I love that the fact that he praised John (as opposed to every other hunter having a rockier relationship with him) is clearly supposed to be a red flag LMFAO.

-I enjoy how the seasons delves more deeply into Sam’s ~~dark origins, since it was my fave thing about him way back when. I’m already mourning the (as I suspect) lost of his powers, ngl. There’s a little more attention in how he tends to over-identify with supernatural creatures struggling with their ~dark sides too (bitch me too, the fuck xD), which I LOVE to see (among other reasons because at least in that way we get a little of their POV in the forefront lol). One of my favourites in that sense was the episode centered around the ghost-who-didn’t-know-she-was-ghost, played by Tricia Helfer. I clocked early one what was going on, but it was still very enjoyable, especially with Sam’s empathy with her (contrasted by Dean being a total bitch about it, btw. I can’t believe I still see post about how Dean is all heart/kindness/compassion/whatever the fuck. Dean is all about selective empathy and only when it conveniences him, pls).

I was more divided on the episode with Madison the werewolf, tbh. OTOH it put Sam in a better position, for a change xD. As the one willing to make The Hard Choices by fulfilling his promise to kill her because she was dangerous, even when Dean offered to ~take the burden from him. OTOH I hate that kind of thing lol. YOU GUYS KNOW A HUNTER PRO LIKE BOBBY, I BET HE COULD’VE FIGURED OUT SOMETHING TO CONTAIN HER A FEW NIGHTS A MONTH. Also, my immediate reaction was to compare this to when my man Angel had a crush on a werelady and helped her every month lmfao. But then, very few characters can withstand a comparison with Angel, in any sense :P

I also liked Sam’s subplot with his fellow demon-psychic kids, though I wish it’d lasted longer :/ (also: RME at the queer girl dying almost immediately AND her power being killing people, her girlfriend first of all, with her touch. The black guy was the last one to die at least...?). My fave was Ava, by far. I loved her since her reaction to helping Sam stealing a psychiatrist’s records was yelling “I’M AWESOME!!”. It made it easy to buy that someone that appeared so mundane, with her easy life and her fiance and whatnot, would become so power hungry and go off the rails, IMO.

BTW: RME at Dean being all “oh Sam is going too dark/becoming to cold” when Sam kills Jake. Jake ripped off his spine and killed him first!! It both amuses me and infuriates me all the times Dean tries to push Sam to be more like himself and then freaks out whenever Sam is not all sunshine and rainbows (while still remaining, IMO, far less cold than Dean himself. Besides, it’s not easy to be colder than Dean, lol).

Lastly, a little character detail I loved was when Sam was jealous about Dean being in the federal database but not himself lmfao. 

-I loved the new foreshadowing crumb with Sam finding out Mary knew the demon, too (information he’ll withhold from Dean, which I approve of LOL). I mean, I know exactly what’s up, I’ve watched most of s4 xD (also, what is UP with this family and making deals with demons. Everyone but Sam so far!! And then HE gets dragged for ~getting too close to one smh. Maybe lead by example!! Also also: yes, it was meant to be ambiguous, but I can’t help but notice the only kiss-pact -or further, depending to how close YED was to Lilith’s levels, since to make a deal with her you have to fuck xD- we didn’t see was the one that must’ve happened between John and YED. Cowards!! xD). Still. I’m so curious about her. Her resurrection is one of the main reasons I’m determined to make it to the later seasons, ngl.

-Another thing I LOVED about this season is how they used sibling relationships to parallel/foreshadow stuff about the brothers, the way s1 did often with fathers. I’ve already mentioned Gordon and his sister, but the others are not less brutal imo: Andy having to kill his evil twin, who wanted him all for himself (... Dean is that you xD); the little girl’s ghost who wanted her grand-niece to commit suicide to stay with her, and didn’t give in until her old sister agreed to die in her place. It was chilling. Also, at one point the parallel was between the brothers and a married couple (the ghost-who-didn’t-know-she-was-a-ghost) and asñdlfkajsf. I’m guessing they had fun with the shippers lol.

Speaking of the brothers’ relationship, this season also goes a little further in escalating the violence between them, when Dean punches Sam in the face and he refuses to respond (“you can hit me all you want, it won’t change anything”. Fuck), or when Dean again punches Sam after Sam was possessed by Meg ¬¬

-Going back to my love-hate relationship with Dean, lmfao. My biggest beef remains how much validation his POV gets from the narrative, granted or not; he’s one of the most irritating cases of protagonist-centered morality and I know it’s only going to get worse smh. At least this season it feels a little more balanced than in s1, with episodes like the one where the civilian Sam had tried to keep away dies halfway through the ep because Dean allowed him to get involved, for example. Still, it grates on me xD. The continuing prison rape jokes/demonic possession rape jokes (with Meg and Sam), his general grossness with women and his lack of sympathy for non-humans even when they’re not trying to hurt anyone don’t exactly help. Also, I often see him praised for some of his political views, a lot of which I agree with (his mistrust of cops, saying convicts don’t deserve to die no matter what they do), but when contrasted with his general attitude across the show it’s really grating ngl.

But then he has such AMAZING character details thrown in, that make me appreciate him as a POV character nonetheless, as much as I often want to curb stomp the guy xD. I loved his speech about how there’s no such thing as a dignified death. I love how he refused to come near his mother’s grave, both at the beginning and at the end of the episode (this show is like, the cure to DCCW’s shows false fuzzy sentimentality istg). I love his pop-culture references, like when Sam mentions Dean always thought OJ was the murderer or Dean jokes about freeing Katie Holmes from Scientology’s cult xD (sometimes it really hits you how old this show is lol). I enjoyed his Wishverse episode, and his lines after Sam dies/he sells his soul to save him (“I had one job”, “my life can mean something”) hit HARD.

But most of all? I LOVE how and why he starts losing respect for John. It’s so fucking cold and abrupt and makes so much sense!! Like, yes, part of it is John’s message about killing Sam (... again, father of the year!), but most of all it’s about John making a pact with a demon and dying TO SAVE DEAN (and probably, simply that he died at all. That shit de-mystifies anyone). IT’S SO FUCKING GREAT TO WATCH. “He spent his life chasing that demon. He was supposed to die fighting, not making a deal with the damn thing. That was supposed to be his legacy, not this." Damn, Dean xDD. The *contempt* with which he said that killed me.

I also love his inherently atheist vision of the world (even if yes, it’s extremely funny knowing this show has canon God and angels and shit -no Jesus Christ though, which I find endlessly funny-, or that they actually meet the archangel Gabriel in disguise xD. Either way, the episode with the fake angel and its foreshadowing was hilarious), his anti-destiny stance, and that it’s him and not John who gets to kill YED.

-I liked Ellen and Jo. Not LOVED, but I liked them. I keep fearing that secondary (especially female) characters will feel empty/shallow but the show keeps proving me wrong, even with one-episode wonders, and at first I wasn’t sure about them, but I was sold quickly. Partially because of the actresses, they both had this... humanizing, endearing quality? It worked really well.  I also loved the explicit contrast between John and Ellen’s parenting styles, with Ellen wanting Jo to return to school and be safe from the hunt, and Jo wanting something different. Also, I wouldn’t ship it if you paid me, but LOL at anyone who actually buys Dean sees Jo as a ~little sister just because MEG said that rme.

This show is just REALLY good when it comes to giving depth to a character with only a couple of brush strokes, which makes it all the more frustrating when they abruptly die or disappear to never be seen again/only once more (to abruptly die!) :)))

I was less sold on Ash; he was amusing, but having a Genius Hacker TM helping them out seemed like the beginning of increasingly giving the brothers ways of deux ex machina-ing them out of problems, when one of my favourite things about the show is seeing them creatively find ways out themselves. I like when they’re competent! Like with the multitude of codes they have to improvise plans, like in the episode where with two words through a lawyer they implemented a quick scheme so that Sam would escape from a police precinct. I like that stuff.

-I’m still so bitterly jealous about the dead man’s blood hurting vampires detail. SO BITTERLY JEALOUS. I love a lot of what this show does with its lore but that little bit is the worst offender. I want it so bad xD