#real women want to feel supported both in their clothes and in their ideas and that means incorporating Their ideas in the clothes

[roundaboutnow]

'to me, that is her dream dress' 😤🙄

[judesmoonbeauty]

Your Hand Please, My Lady CE: Jude Jazza Story

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

Jude was chosen to be my butler for a day through the Evil King game —

Jude: Good morning, Miss Kate. You seem well-rested today.

That morning when Jude came to my room, he spoke in beautiful Queen’s English.

(Jude’s accent is gone?! Moreover, why am I being called Miss….)

Kate: ….This is a dream, right?

Thinking it was a dream I sank back to bed when Jude grabbed my arm.

Jude: Excuse me, Miss Kate. I am also terribly disappointed, but this is not a dream.

Kate: I can feel you grabbing me….then this is real….?

Jude: Yesterday, Mister Victor gave an extremely unpleasant….no, a pleasant order, didn’t he?

Jude: To become a butler for one day.

Kate: Ah, that’s right….

Kate: I understand. Please take care of me today.

Jude: No, it’s I who should say that. Please take care of me today, Miss Kate.

Jude: Anyway, that wild hairstyle…..it’s like a work of art. It’s an honor to see it.

(Maybe, do I have bed hair…?)

Kate: I-I’m sorry. It’s unsightly! I’ll fix it right away.

Jude: Ah no, leave it as it is, my lady.

(What, leave my bed head as it is…?)

Jude: I’ll fix it for you, so please have a seat.

Kate: ….You will do it Jude?

Jude: Since I am your butler for today.

Jude skillfully arranged my hair, and tied it up neatly.

Afterwards, I was guided to the dining room where breakfast had been prepared.

(Jude’s an immaculate butler. But…)

Jude: My lady. You’re taking your time eating your meal with that small mouth.

Jude: As a result, tidying up will be delayed……no, please be careful, all right?

Kate: ….Thank you.

(Even though his tone was polite, his words somehow sounded sarcastic….)

He isn’t criticizing me as he usually does, so I can’t talk back, it’s oddly difficult.

Liam: Jude becoming a butler seems interesting! I wanted to see it, but…..it seems a bit shameless doesn’t it?

Kate: That’s just your nature Liam…..

Liam: Kate, now that Jude is your butler, you can do whatever you want.

Liam: Like going shopping and carrying your bags! I’m curious about Jude being used by you, Kate.

Jude: ….You’re using me to satisfy your curiosity? Mr. Liam, joke around in moderation.

Liam: Wow, scary!

Liam: But, Jude didn’t you ask me the other day about products women may like?

Liam: I don’t think it would be a bad idea to listen to Kate’s opinion while shopping.

Ellis: Kate’ll be happy to release her frustration, and Jude’ll be happy to do market research…..

Ellis: ….Yep, I think that’s very good.

Liam: Right?

Ellis and liam both approached Jude with sparkling eyes.

Jude: ……Seems like the both of you will be completely noisy until we go out?

So at Ellis’ and Liam’s recommendation, I went out with Jude.

There’s a hint of sarcasm in everything Jude says, but he carries all of my bags without being asked, fulling his role as a butler with precision.

(Although it was an order from the evil king game….., I’m starting to feel a bit sorry.)

(I’ll tell Jude that this is the last time he needs to pretend being a butler.)

As I stood in the bathroom and thought this, I started back to Jude.

At that moment —

Man: Excuse me. I’m lost, could you give me directions.

Kate: Yes, of course. Where are you going?

Man: It’s in this direction. Come with me for a moment.

Kate: What? That…

(This man…does he really need directions?)

Just as he was about to forcefully grab my arm, I stopped in confusion, and the man’s attitude changed.

Man: Tch…you’re Jude Jazza’s woman right? Listen up and follow me!

Kate: Mmgh.

A cloth was placed over my mouth preventing me from calling for help, and I was snatched away immediately.

I was taken to a warehouse-like place and my hands were tied with ropes.

(…..I wonder how many times I’ve been involved as Jude’s woman.)

(Come to think of it, when I was commanded to become Jude’s maid….)

[Flash Back Begins]

Jude: If yer gonna follow me ‘round, ya gotta ditch all the niceties ’n goodwill.

Jude: Or if ya don’t wanna get tossed aside, then forget the damn mission ‘n go back to sleep in yer castle, princess.

[Flash Back Ends]

(Even though I was warned…..my goodwill was taken advantage of.)

If Jude saw me, he’d laugh and say, “See, toldja.”

(…..Ugh. If that’s the case, I’d rather not be criticized.)

(There’s a chance I may be told not to tag along anymore because he’s fed up with me.)

I still don’t know a lot about Jude, I haven’t recorded enough.

(In order to stay by Jude’s side, I need to make it through this situation….!)

Just as the man turned his back to me, I picked up a nearby piece of wood.

I don’t have a firm grip because I’m tied with a rope, but it’s enough to swing down.

(…..Okay, now!)

I hit the man on the back of his knee, to get him to lose balance. At that time —

Jude: —You were late, so I came to collect you, my lady.

Man: Huh…..Jude Jazza?!

Jude appeared from the shadows and immediately closed the distance between him and the man,

Man: Urgh!

Jude’s brilliant roundhouse kick sent the man flying, and then fell to the ground.

Kate: ……Thank you for the help.

On the way back home, Jude stopped walking to listen as I began to speak.

Kate: But I …..I still want to know more about you, Jude.

Kate: Going forward, I’ll be more careful. So……

—So, please let me stay by your side. Before I could say anything Jude spoke.

Jude: ….Today you’re a young lady, and I am your butler.

Jude: Because of this, of course I’d help you.

(So my stupidity will be overlooked today…?)

Jude: Besides, you were swinging a piece of wood before I could even get in.

Kate: I was just completely absorbed in the moment….

Jude: …..It’s far better to beat someone to death with a piece of wood, than to be tortured.

While saying that, Jude lit a cigarette.

The long trailing smoke rises thinly into the sky and disappears.

For some reason, the lonely look on his face was burned into my heart.

Jude: ….Well, yer unfit as a young lady. Where d’ya find a young lady swingin’  wood ‘round.

Kate: You say that…., but Jude you’re also unfit as a butler!

Kate: You stopped speaking politely, and you started smoking without asking…..

Jude: If ya ain’t a young lady, then I ain’t a butler. This setup was rubbish from the start.

Jude: ….Or what, didja want me to wait on ya longer? Ya got good taste.

Kate: T-that’s not it! I….like the usual Jude best!

Jude: ……

Kate: Ah! T-that’s not right? Not like in that way, what I meant was

Jude: Ya rather be teased than waited on, right? ….Yer a woman with bad tastes.

I was frustrated that he laughed while mocking me.

But, it’s true that Jude’s ridiculing side fits better…..

(…..Maybe I do have bad tastes.)

While I felt a tinge of uneasiness about my preference in tastes…my strange day spent with Jude as my butler ended.

Jude really struggled to not say mean things lmao. So cute watching him correct himself. Let's give the fairy an A+ for effort.

And HELLO - are we not going to talk about how he couldn't resist Liam's and Ellis sparkly eyes?? ......or about how he lit a cigarette after that one line.

[Master List] Dividers: @.natimiles Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

[hungermakesmonsters]

Devotion & Desire

Chapter Four

Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?

Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Explicit smut and omega heat stuff. All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.2k

A/N : 😅 still trying to walk the fine line between plot and smut

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Four

It felt like a fever dream, like some terrible nightmare that started to fade from memory the moment your eyes opened. Only, it wasn’t. It had happened.

Bucky had -

No.

No. 

You didn’t even want to think about it. Regardless of how much it had helped, and how much you might have needed it at the time, you felt nothing but regret. Closing your eyes, you were assaulted by vivid memories of the way he’d touched you, the way you’d moaned for him, and perhaps worst of all, the way you’d kissed him.

Hours later, his scent still lingered in the room, mixed with yours, making you feel dizzy, giddy.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself from the crude little nest you’d throw together with little more than sheets, sofa cushions and a couple of towels.

Everything ached and just the exertion of standing up and pulling on your leggings had your skin coated in a layer of sweat. You felt awful. And, as you took a step away from the bed, you felt like you were going to fall down. But you couldn’t stop. You needed to find Bucky. You needed him to know that it had been a mistake.

Staggering, you made your way to the door, weakly pulling it open and almost falling through it. But then another scent assaulted your senses; another alpha, someone you didn’t recognise.

He looked up at you, an easy smile pulling on his lips and, for a second, there was a faint hint of recognition. You thought you recognised him. But you couldn’t place how or where from. Your mind was a haze, the fog of your heat making it difficult for you to think straight.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he said, clearly noticing your confusion. “I’m a friend of Bucky’s.”

“Where is he?” You asked, gripping the doorframe for support.

“He needed to go out, didn’t tell me where. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but he’s not exactly an open book,” Sam answered, letting out a warm sort of laugh that told you he and Bucky were close. “He asked me to keep an eye on you, in case you needed anything.”

Your eyes widened, thoughts heading in an unsettling direction. He’d asked another alpha to take care of you?

“Not like that,” Sam quickly clarified, holding up his hands, wanting to make sure there was no confusion. “I brought you some things.”

He gave a nod of his head towards two bags on the floor, a backpack, and a shopping bag filled with womens clothes.

“There’s some of my sister's clothes in there, she’s a beta and a bit bigger than you, but they should be alright,” he explained and you offered a muttered thank you.

You decided to keep your distance, clinging to the door frame while your legs trembled beneath you. Your eyes dropped for a moment, struggling with a strange mixture of feelings welling up inside you.

You felt abandoned by Bucky, even though you didn’t want him around in the first place. And you longed for him, despite hating him. Shaking your head, you tried to clear your mind and stop all the racing thoughts and unsettling feelings. It was just your heat making you feel things that you knew weren’t real, your biology trying to make you into a good omega for an alpha you had the misfortune of craving.

Looking at Sam again, you realised he was watching you, and recognition finally sparked within you.

“Wait... you’re the Falcon... or is it Captain America now?” The confusion was clear in your voice, only sounding half convinced that he was who you believed him to be.

“Just Sam is fine,” he replied with that easy smile.

You weren’t sure what it was about him, but he felt safe, like he was the sort of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, unlike Bucky who was gruff and guarded. How the two of them could be friends, you couldn’t even begin to understand. So, you asked.

“Why is Captain America helping the Winter Soldier?” 

“Because Bucky isn’t the Winter Soldier anymore,” Sam answered. Clearly the look on your face gave away that you didn’t believe him so, a moment later, Sam continued; “he told me what happened to you - to your brother - but you have to understand that while it might have been him, it wasn’t Bucky.”

“You think just because he was under mind control that he’s any less to blame?” You answered back, unintentionally allowing some of your anger to slip into your tone.

“Do you maybe want to take a second to think about what you just said?” Sam asked, his voice still calm and friendly. Your gaze dropped, hating that some part of you knew he was right to call you out. “I know it doesn’t change how you feel and it won’t bring your brother back, but if you think for a moment that it doesn’t hurt him almost as much as it hurts you, then -”

The sound of the door had him falling quiet. For whatever reason, he didn’t want Bucky to know that he’d just been defending him to you.

Stepping into the apartment, Bucky looked at Sam before noticing you standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Should you be up?”

“We were just getting to know each other,” Sam decided to answer before you got the chance.

Bucky grimaced. “What did you tell her?”

For a moment he looked at you, seeming so genuinely concerned that his friend might have told you something terrible, and you wondered if that was just how their friendship was or if Bucky was so unsure of himself that all he could do was jump to the worst conclusion.

“He didn’t say anything I don’t already know,” you answered.

It earned a surprised look from Sam, and it was as close as you’d ever get to actually agreeing with what he’d told you. But agreement and acceptance were two different things, and you still hated the Winter Soldier and, by extension, Bucky.

“Where have you been?” You dared to ask Bucky, realising that he was carrying a familiar looking box in his hands.

“I was in the neighbourhood, so I stopped at Gracie’s for a pie,” Bucky said, finally stepping further into the apartment.

“You’ve got ex-Hydra agents looking for you and you stopped for a pie?” Sam asked, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s - it’s really good pie,” you said, your grip tightening on the doorframe, as a wave of cramping hit.

“Did you ask her about Rumlow yet?” Sam asked, seemingly from nowhere. 

Your legs almost gave in beneath you at the sound of his name. Pressing yourself against the doorframe was the only thing that stopped you from falling. 

Bucky was in front of you in an instant, before Sam was even half out of his seat. He reached for you to steady you, but you did everything you could to pull away and remain standing under your own steam. 

“How do you know about Rumlow?” You asked, eyes moving between the two alphas.

“The guys that tried to take you, they used to work with him. We thought Rumlow died in Lagos years ago, but -” Sam explained, stopping when you shook your head.

“No... he’s alive,” you said.

“How does Rumlow fit into any of this?” Sam asked. “How do you know him?”

Your eyes drifted to Bucky, an uncomfortable feeling twisting your guts.

“He promised to help me track down and kill the Winter Soldier but he - he lied to me,” you explained without explaining, not wanting to say anything more than that.

“Why would he be after you now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t -” a sudden surge of pain cut you off and almost had you doubling over.

Before you could even think to try and stop him, Bucky had hold of you, sweeping you off your feet with ease and carrying you back to bed. Moments later, he was gently placing you back down in your nest.

“You need to rest,” he told you softly, his fingers tenderly brushing your hair away from your face.

You struggled to keep your eyes open and Bucky took that as a sign to leave you. But, when he started to turn, you reached for him, weakly grasping his sleeve.

“We need to talk,” you told him, and watched as he glanced to the door making sure Sam wasn’t listening in. When you were both satisfied that you wouldn’t be overheard, you spoke. “Don’t go getting any ideas about last night. It - it shouldn’t’ve happened, it was just -”

“I get it,” he cut in. “I’m an alpha, you’re an omega. It’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Good ‘cause it can't happen again,” you said, barely able to even look him in the eye as you spoke.

His jaw clenched and, for a moment it almost seemed like he was angry - or maybe he was disappointed. It was hard to tell. Either way, it seemed like your words had more of an effect than you’d anticipated.

“Fair enough,” he said, his tone quickly becoming more distant, somehow colder. “I was just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

It was a stupid thing to say because you both knew it was entirely untrue but, at that exact moment, you believed your own bullshit.

“Clearly,” he remarked sarcastically, “you seem to be doing great on your own.”

When you didn’t seem to have a witty response for him, Bucky pulled away from you, breaking your hold on him, and you watched as he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. All you could do for a few minutes was stare at the door, wondering if you’d somehow managed to hurt his feelings. “She seems -”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky finished the thought for Sam, stalking away from the closed door. Sam just watched Bucky for a moment as he grabbed the box with the pie and headed towards the kitchen. He waited a beat before following after, watching Bucky as he removed the pie from the box and cut himself a large slice without offering any to Sam.

“Okay, this is passive aggressive even for you,” Sam remarked, nodding at the pie, indicating he wanted a slice.

Bucky huffed before cutting his friend a slice significantly smaller than his own and stalking back into the den, taking a seat on the sofa to eat.

“Listen, if this is getting to you, I can watch her and you can go do... whatever it is you do when you go off on your own,” Sam offered cautiously as he took a seat.

Sam was too busy breaking off his first bite of pie with his fork to notice the way Bucky was glaring at him but, the moment he looked up, he had his answer.

“Okay,” Sam said, deciding it wasn’t worth starting an argument over, so he changed the subject. “Torres got back to me, he says he still hasn’t found any trace of her or who he really is, but he found out about Berlin...”

The statement was allowed to hang in the air between them, not speaking until Bucky gave some indication that he wanted to hear it and, even when he received that slight nod, Sam hesitated for a moment more.

He pulled out his phone and opened the file that Torres had sent him.

“It was in February, 2009. There was a tech conference in Berlin - but not for your run-of-the-mill iPhones and games consoles. It was all military grade tech,” Sam explained, watching Bucky for any negative reactions or flickers of recollection. “We’re talking big like Stark Tech, Hammer Industries, A.I.M. -”

“I get the picture,” Bucky interrupted.

“Well, there were rumours about some new satellite tech, something that would have allowed whoever had control of it to spy on anyone, to break into any system, to watch anyone they wanted. It was years ahead of its time. From what we can tell it was the sort of thing that a group like Hydra wouldn’t want falling into the wrong hands.”

“So they sent me,” Bucky sighed. “What else did you find out?”

Again, Sam hesitated for a few seconds.

“The crime scene report from the hotel; it says her brother checked in under a false name, assumed to be travelling alone, and the crime scene photos... they show that he put up a fight...” Instead of explaining it, Sam handed his phone to Bucky, watching as he took in the crime scene photos and the evidence list before going very quiet and very still. He let a minute pass in silent contemplation before he spoke again.

“He was hiding something,” he sighed, his eyes closing for a moment and his head hanging forward, the memories flooding back to him. “I was sent to get everything he had. I got the drive with the schematics but I - I thought he was holding something back. And he was. He was protecting his sister while she hid. I tortured him and he refused to give her up...”

Putting Sam’s phone down, he stood, his slice of pie forgotten and abandoned. 

Sam didn’t say anything as Bucky walked towards the window, putting his back to his friend, not wanting Sam to see the pain and self-loathing on his face. But Sam wasn’t prepared to let him wallow.

“So, what now?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean ‘what now’?” 

“What comes next, Buck? You know why she tried to kill you, now how are you going to make amends?”

“Don’t start with the therapy-talk, Sam. I’m not in the mood,” Bucky snapped.

“Well you better get in the mood, because there’s a person in that room who needs your help, and if you’re not willing to look after her -” 

“I never said that.” Bucky turned back to face Sam, conviction clear in his voice. “Of course I’ll look after her.

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

You lost track of time the moment you were placed back in bed. You thought that you could hear their voices through the door but maybe it was just delirium from the fever playing tricks on you. Everything hurt. Your muscles ached and your joints felt stiff, and your temperature continued to climb.

Turning this way and that, you tried to get comfortable, tried to find just the right angle to lay at to make the pain stop. 

It wasn’t long before there was something else beneath the pain, that desperate longing that you couldn’t control, that need that had your hand pawing at your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but knowing that, once you started, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

The more you denied yourself, the more it hurt, until it felt like your insides were burning.

You reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, only to clumsily knock it onto the floor and, when you leaned down to try and retrieve it, your vision started to swim. 

The next thing you knew, you were on the floor. There was no telling if it was the sound of the bottle falling or your knees hitting the floor that alerted Bucky, but he was at your side in seconds, swearing and placing his hand on your forehead to feel how hot your fever was running.

“You should’ve told me it had gotten this bad,” he muttered as he scooped you off the floor and started to carry you through the apartment.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Bucky didn’t answer, but it soon became clear. 

He took you into the bathroom, carrying you into the shower and quickly started up the cold water.

A relieved gasp left your lips at the feel of the cold water on your skin, soaking into your sweat-drenched clothes. Your head dropped onto his shoulder, letting him hold you under the water for what felt like hours. You tried to mutter something, an awkward thank you, but the words came out as little more than incomprehensible babble. Bucky simply shushed you, his arms holding you a little tighter.

It didn’t even cross your mind that you were both still dressed or that the cold must have been uncomfortable for Bucky. It finally felt like you could breathe again, like you weren’t being smothered by the fever. Your eyes closed and you relaxed in his arms, coming to the uncomfortable realisation that moments like this were why omegas needed alphas.

You shifted, moving your head, barely even noticing that you were doing it until your nose was pressed to his gland and every breath you took was him.

Somehow you managed to fall asleep in his arms, and you had no idea how long he held you under the water before drying you off as best he could and returning you to bed.

But you didn’t sleep for long and, when your eyes opened again, you found him sitting on the floor beside your bed, glancing over his shoulder at you as you reached for the fresh, cold bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand for you.

“I remember,” he told you cryptically, looking forward again, facing away from you.

“What?”

“Your brother. That night in Berlin… everything I did...”

There was something in his voice, in the slump of his shoulders, that had you remembering Sam’s words to you, and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry,” he added a moment later. “I understand why you hate me so much now.”

It sounded genuine, it sounded like he really was sorry, like the memory of what he’d done was causing him as much pain as it did you. And you didn’t want to hear it. You weren’t prepared for any of this; after years of seeing him as a monster, having your brother’s brutal murder as your only frame of reference, you found that this contrite, apologetic Bucky didn’t fit the role of the man you wanted to blame.

And it left you annoyed. It left you feeling like all the time you’d spent, the years of your life you’d wasted and the terrible things you’d endured to get to him, to make him suffer, had all been for nothing.

How could you hurt this man who seemed so pained by his own existence?

An awkward, uncomfortable sound escaped you as you laid back, your frustration bubbling over and leaving you at a total loss.

Bucky had no idea what was going through your head, he could only assume that you were still in pain.

“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” He asked with a noticeable hesitation. “It gets worse after the halfway point, right?”

“Have you been Googling heats?” At any other time you would have taken a mocking tone, but you were too exhausted and overwhelmed to even think about it.

With Bucky so close, you found it harder to control your baser desires, the omega part of you that craved an alpha, that craved him. But Bucky didn’t even seem to notice.

“Yeah, I -” he let out an awkward sigh, “- I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before and I know last night wasn’t... I mean, I know you didn’t...”

Not wanting to watch him struggle, you decided to put him out of his misery and move the conversation along, if only because talking was better than thinking and you needed something to keep your mind from straying too far.

“You’ve never had an omega before?” You asked.

“Not... not like this,” he said but didn’t go into any detail about what that meant. “In the decades that I was with Hydra, they mostly kept me on ice, and I didn’t exactly get to meet anyone.”

Silence fell and he moved, lifting himself onto his knees and turning to face you. Before you could ask what he was doing, you saw him reaching for the bowl of water and the washcloth. He gently pressed it to your burning cheeks and, for a few minutes he seemed content to remain silent, but it didn’t last.

“It’s because of the suppressants, isn’t it? That’s why it’s so bad,” he asked, and you confirmed his suspicions with little more than a glance. “Why did you take them for so long?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Because being an omega fucking sucks,” you said with a sigh. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel weak and helpless all the time? To have people look at you like you only exist for a single purpose?”

He took an awkward breath, then answered. “More than you know.”

For a moment you considered his words, considered the implications. He’d been a killer, Hydra’s attack dog, only ever let off-leash when he was needed to kill someone. It had been his life, his purpose. The sense of understanding you felt was uncomfortable, further confusing how you felt about him. And you hated it. You didn’t want to feel sorry for him, you didn’t want to feel anything at all. 

“At least you’re an alpha,” you said grimly, “you get to fuck instead of being fucked.”

“It still doesn't explain the suppressants.”

“I started taking them because I didn’t want to get stuck being some alpha’s omega again...”

“Wait...” it took a second but he finally seemed to start putting it together. “You and Rumlow?”

You gave only the slightest of nods. Bucky didn’t say anything, but his silence made it obvious that he wanted you to explain.

“I was trying to track you down the Winter Soldier. I didn’t realise he was Hydra when I tried  to buy information from him.” You couldn’t look at Bucky as you spoke, as the anger started to slip into your voice. “He promised he would help me, he took me in and - I was young and stupid, and by the time I realised I was trapped, it was too late. He wanted to claim me, but I rejected him, so he did the next best thing and kept me...”

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his vibranium hand curling into a tight fist.

“He disappeared in the blip and I got away. Since then I’ve done everything I can to present as a beta.”

“Why is he after you now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I guess when you were looking into me, it must have flagged something somewhere, and he came looking,” you answered, feeling your stomach knot at the thought. “Brock, he - he doesn’t like to lose and he doesn’t like to be told no. He thinks I’m his...”

“Well, he’s not getting you back,” Bucky stated with an angry certainty that you didn’t understand.

You looked at him, not sure you wanted to ask and, by the time you’d decided that you probably should, it was too late. He got to his feet and headed for the door, telling you to shout if you needed anything.

For a time you just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, everything that was still happening.

You had wanted Bucky to suffer for killing your brother, but you wanted to be the cause of that suffering, not his own remorse over his actions. And, again, you found yourself thinking back to your conversation with Sam, the way you’d had to concede that it hadn’t even been Bucky who killed your brother.

Round and round, there was no escaping all the thoughts and questions in your head, all the things that made you angry and the things you couldn’t control.

And, soon enough, it became hard to think about anything but the torture your own body was putting you through. Your temperature started to rise again and you squirmed awkwardly, pressing your thighs together, slick starting to soak through your underwear.

Then you remembered the bags by the bedroom door, the clean clothes Sam had brought for you.

On shaky legs you made your way out of the bedroom, expecting to find Bucky on the sofa but, instead, you could hear the shower running again - why was he showering again? The thought quickly left your mind as you started rummaging through the bags. One bag was filled with womens clothes and the other -

Fuck.

The backpack was basically a bio-weapon, filled with Bucky’s clothes, shirts and sweatpants that hadn’t been laundered. And, before you knew what you were doing, you’d taken one of his shirts and were heading back to your nest with it, not thinking to close the bedroom door behind you, suddenly consumed by your baser urges.

Falling onto the bed, you pressed his shirt to your nose and inhaled his scent.

You hated yourself for how much you craved him, how much you wanted to be wrapped up in his scent, in him. You twitched and squirmed, that awful, longing ache burning through you again. It wasn’t long before your hand was reaching between your thighs and soft whines started to escape you.

At some point the shower stopped, and your eyes opened to find Bucky in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, his eyes fixed on you. Just the sight of his exposed chest and abs, still damp from the shower, was enough to cause a dramatic spike in your arousal.

Despite your embarrassment, your hand kept moving, fingers strumming your clit through your slick-soaked panties while you held his shirt to your nose. And Bucky watched.

“Bucky...”

That moan was all the invitation he needed to cross the room. Even as he came to stand over you, your fingers didn’t stop, in fact they got faster, desperate. More little whimpers and moans escaped you, but he didn’t touch you, didn’t attempt to give you what you needed, what you craved. He just watched and his gaze alone was all it took to break your resolve.

“Please?” You finally begged.

“You sure you want my help again, little mouse?”

You nodded. Despite everything you’d told him after the last time, you nodded. Desperately. Enthusiastically. 

Bucky didn’t need any more than that, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your legs. His hands felt cold as they slipped up your thighs to pull away your wet panties. (Somewhere in the back of your mind you realised he’d been having a cold shower, but in your needy, muddled state, you couldn’t understand why.)

Without hesitation or ceremony, a cold metal finger ran through your folds before sinking inside you, moving slowly, as if he thought you needed warming up.

Your head dropped back on the pillow and your hips started to move against his hand, desperate for more. You were so caught up in the feeling, in the need for more, for everything, that you didn’t realise he’d lowered his head until you felt his heavy breath against your inner thigh and you felt the slow drag of his tongue over your thigh gland.

A desperate moan tore from your lips, your eyes opened and you looked down to see him between your legs. The sight alone was enough to cause you to clench around his finger and leave you on the precipice of orgasm. 

Without thinking, your hand reached for him, tangling in his hair. His eyes stayed fixed on yours as his tongue ran along your gland again, this time licking higher, groaning against your skin, letting out sounds that made it seem like he was the one in need instead of you.

You jolted, back arching the moment his tongue found your clit. His free hand pressed on your stomach, pinning you down while his vibranium hand continued to slowly fuck you with a deliberately teasing pace. His tongue moved just as slowly, causing you to whimper and keen, your fingers tightening in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

The pressure built up in you slowly and the sounds you were making got more desperate and eager. 

You just about screamed when he started to suck your clit and bent his finger inside you, finding that sensitive spot, causing you to come almost instantly. As you trembled and shuddered, your hand reached for his hand on your stomach and pulled it upwards, pushing up your baggy tee-shirt and placing it on your breast. Your other hand remained in his hair, holding tight, ensuring that his head stayed between your thighs.

He stilled for a few moments, letting you ride out one orgasm before starting to lead you towards the next. A second cold, metal finger slid inside you with ease, your back arching a little, your own fingers twisting in his hair and tugging harder.

You’d told him never again, but after the second orgasm pulled from you by his fingers and his tongue, some part of you knew you wouldn’t survive if you never got to experience this bliss again.

After the third orgasm, he finally lifted his head and slowly started to move up your body, and you let him. No, you encouraged him, tugging on his hair until his face was only inches from yours. You both hesitated as he looked down at you, his fingers still fucking you at that delicious pace.

“It’s just biology,” he muttered softly, as if he was giving both of you permission to give in to each other.

Finally, you lifted your head, your lips clumsily crashing into his and igniting a desperate kiss that seemed to go on and on, until a final fourth orgasm was pulled from you. Even then, as his fingers stilled and finally slipped from your trembling body, his lips lingered against yours, and your fingers remained tangled in his hair

When your body slumped back, exhausted, Bucky remained above you for a few moments more before finally withdrawing, getting up and leaving the room, and leaving you more confused than ever. But at least some of the pain had subsided. He wasn’t gone for long.

After a few minutes he returned fully dressed and with two plates, each with a slice of pie. 

He placed one on the bed beside you before sitting back down on the floor next to your bed. Despite what you’d just done, now that it was over, he seemed to want to maintain a polite distance.

“Gracie’s apple pie?” You muttered, tired but definitely hungry enough to eat. 

Bucky gave a hum of acknowledgement. “She said it was your favourite.”

You fell silent, staring at the pie, thinking about the life you could have had; the murder plot aside, you’d liked working at Gracie’s and you liked the friends you’d made. But it was all gone now. You couldn’t go back and tell them you’d been lying to them about who you were just to get close to Bucky.

You were going to be alone again.

And that thought hurt.

“At least I get to have it one last time,” you muttered as you sat back against the headboard and started to eat.

“Last time?” He repeated, confused.

“It’s not like I can go back after... y’know all the lies and everything,” you said.

“I think they’d be a lot more understanding than you think,” he offered through a mouthful of pie.

“Right, I’ll just come out and tell them that the sweet little omega act was all a lie, and I was only being nice to them so I could get close enough to kill you,” you retorted.

Honestly, you might have laughed if it hadn’t made you feel so pathetic and alone.

“Sometimes people are willing to forgive a lot if you apologise,” Bucky shrugged.

You weren’t sure if he was suggesting that you should forgive him or trying to let you know that he’d already forgiven you. You didn’t ask. Both of you fell silent while you ate. And, not long after finishing, you managed to fall asleep again.

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

The sound of muttering woke you up. You quickly realised that it was Bucky. He was laid  on the floor in his boxers with nothing but a pillow for comfort, thrashing and grumbling in his sleep, obviously having a nightmare. He must have decided to sleep on the floor to be close in case you needed him in the night and - fuck, you didn’t even want to think about how that made you feel.

All you knew for certain - all you were willing to admit - was that you hated seeing him like that. As someone who knew what it was like to be plagued by nightmares, you wouldn’t have wished it on your worst enemy. 

You half-fell out of bed, landing on your hands and knees, before slumping down beside him. Moving closer, you pressed yourself into his side and draped your arm over his body, your face against his neck, nose inches from his gland. 

He quickly stilled and you heard a sharp inhale as he woke up.

“What -” he started, sounding exhausted and confused.

“Shut up,” you half-demanded, half-begged, not wanting to explain it to him.

He didn’t say anything else. A moment later, his arm was around you, pulling you closer. Instinctively, your leg moved over his thigh, tangling your bodies together. His hand pressed against your cheek for a moment before brushing your hair away from your face.

“You’re burning up,” Bucky muttered, “do you need -”

“No, just - just don’t move,” you whined, wanting to hold him, wanting to feel safe in his arms even though you knew it was the most dangerous place for you. “Just... please don’t move.”

“Okay, mouse...” he muttered softly, shifting just a fraction so you could share his pillow.

Slowly but surely, you felt him relax and, as he did, you did too, shifting closer so his thigh was pressed between yours. Right then, you didn’t need or want more than that, you were content just feeling his body against yours.

But, like every other still moment that you’d managed to find during your heat so far, it didn’t last.

After a few hours you woke to that awful, cramping sensation in your stomach. He was still sleeping, still holding you so tight, and you didn’t want to wake him but his thigh between yours became impossible to ignore. You started to move slowly, grinding yourself against him, slick quickly soaking your panties and his thigh. At first you tried to be gentle, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what you needed.

Bucky woke to find you desperately grinding against his thigh like a feral, horny animal. If you hadn’t felt so desperate, you would have felt your cheeks burning with shame. But you were desperate and you needed something to stop the pain. You needed him.

He didn’t speak, didn’t ask what you were doing, he just pressed his thigh against you and turned his head toward yours. As your head fell back, his lips pressed to your throat, kissing, licking and sucking their way towards your gland, and causing you to let out a desperate moan.

You pressed closer still, until the only way you could get close enough was to straddle his lap. You weren’t shocked to find that he was hard - it barely even crossed your mind, too deep in your own desperate needs to think straight anymore. His hips lifted, pressing against you as you both started to move, each of you seeking something from the other as you slick quickly soaked through your panties and began to wet his boxers.

Leaning back, you pulled off your top and led his vibranium hand to your breast, moaning as a cold metal thumb brushed against your nipple. You kept him trapped beneath you, your hands on his chest, holding him down, as if you really thought that you could restrain him. But Bucky let you, he stayed exactly where you wanted him, letting you take what you needed from him.

Your moans got wilder and more desperate, his name slipping from your lips over and over again as you neared orgasm. His flesh hand gripped your hip as he continued to grind up against you, letting out little grunt and groans of his own as he stared up at you through the gloom.

As you came you felt his cock twitch between your thighs and heard his own gasped moan, and you realised that he’d come too.

You collapsed on top of him, your body trembling from your release, slick now coating your thighs and his, and something else, something soaking through Bucky’s boxers. Sprawled against his chest, you buried your face against his neck, breathing in his scent, and clinging to him, not willing to let go. Bucky’s arms wrapped tight around you, holding you as you shook and shivered, and finally fell asleep again.

End Note : Anyone who doesn't read my Billy Russo fics, and didn't see me mention it there, I just want to give a heads up that I broke a key off my laptop (the T key for anyone interested) so I'm having to use a laggy bluetooth keyboard to write atm. Sorry if any weird typos have slipped through, it's probably because of the keyboard. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!!

And thanks so much for the likes/comments/reblogs on the last chapter, it really means a lot to me!

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

Tag List : @greatenthusiasttidalwave @bighappypiels @maddiedrmr @dreadfulxives18 @scott-loki-barnes

@thecraziestcrayon @silas-aeiou @danzer8705 @notpotatocap

[abbyromanoff]

I've got a request. Not really sure about the details, but I'm sure you could work that out, being the amazing writer that you are :)

It's a really vague idea, I guess, but something along the lines of wanda being a fallen angel who has sided with heaven, and Nat being a fallen angel who has sided with hell. They both fall for Fem! Reader and try to get them to support their respective sides

Let me know if this isn't something you're comfortable with writing. Thank you so much :)

YOUR DECISION

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader, Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2,704

WARNINGS: R cheating (not really), making out, “bad boy” Nat, church girl!Wanda, self-homophobia, hidden relationships, Wanda cheating on vision, love affairs, love triangle, small sexual themes, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“C’mon, can’t you stay the night just this once?” The redhead begged, holding your hand in order to keep you close. She tried pulling you closer to no avail as you started gathering your clothes.

“You know I can’t, Nat.” She groaned, flopping back on the bed and exposing part of her nude body. You bit your lip, forcing your gaze off of her before you did end up listening to her.

“My parents think I’m still at the library, they’ll be pissed if they find out I’m here.” Nat wasn’t known greatly around the area, mainly for her delinquent acts that got her into multiple jail cells. In your eyes, she was just misunderstood, nobody saw the side of her that you did. She was soft, a sweetheart who just wanted to find her person, but she already knew that person was you.

But then there was Wanda, the priest's daughter and your childhood best friend. You knew of her feelings for you, yet you tried to deny they existed. You liked her in more ways that you wish you did, but she wasn’t out yet, and she probably never would be. And she had a boyfriend, Vision. She didn’t seem to have a true interest in him, only one that she’d make up and exaggerate so someone would believe her when she said she loves him.

“Just tell them you’re sleeping over a friend’s. Tell them it’s Wanda, aren’t you guys like, I don’t know, best friends?” She pulled you down to sit on her lap, her hands holding you close by your waist. You smiled down at her and debated the option in your mind, was it worth the risk? Anything was worth it when it came to her, but you truly couldn’t stay.

“I wish I could, I do.” She pouted playfully, soon feeling your fingers turning her lips upward.

“Turn that frown upside down, I want to see you smile.” She gripped you just a bit tighter, hoping to keep you in her grasp forever.

“How am I supposed to be happy when you’re leaving me?” You rolled your eyes at her antics, slapping her shoulder with no real indication to cause pain. She threw an overplayed gasp your way in response.

“How about this, I go home tonight, but next weekend I’ll convince my parents to let me stay the night at a ‘friends’ house?” Your statement seemed to bring her slight joy as a grin made its way to her face. She leaned in to kiss you, muttering words between each one.

“As long as I have you, baby.” You got home with multiple different texts from two women: Wanda and Natasha. The redhead was telling you how much she missed you already and how she couldn’t wait to see you again while Wanda had been asking why you weren’t answering her calls. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as you decided to ring the woman, hearing her voice on the other end of the line only seconds after.

“Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for an hour!”

“Relax, I was at the library.” You could tell she didn’t believe you, you were best friends after all, she knew every lie you told.

“You know lying is a sin, Y/N.” She teased, and you could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor. She was most likely changing, yet you couldn’t help the less innocent thoughts from approaching.

“Were you with Nat again?” She knew of your unlabeled relationship with the troublemaker and openly expressed her hatred towards it. But you didn’t care to listen, too drunk on her love to think of anything else. You were first using her as a way to get over Wanda, but then you caught feelings. Nat made hers pretty obvious, she wanted something with you, a real relationship where she could hold your hand in public and kiss you whenever, but you were both waiting for the time to be right.

“I shouldn’t even ask at this point, you’re already always there.” You could sense the annoyance floating through her voice and groaned internally. You couldn’t deal with this right now, you just wanted to get home and relax. It was dark out and you continued to look each way in fear, your legs quickening in speed the colder you felt.

“Please don’t say that, you know it’s not true.” She ended the call after a small ‘whatever’ and it dawned on you just how frustrated she seemed. It wasn’t your fault she couldn’t come to terms with herself, you were just moving on. And if she didn’t want to accept that then she didn’t have to, but you were happy with Nat, even if you didn't exactly know what you two were, it still brought excitement whenever you’d see her or touch her. Her soft skin against yours just felt right, you didn’t have a word to explain it other than that, everything just seemed to make sense when you were with her.

Your parents were instantly questioning you once you got home, but you just shut them down with the fact that finals were headed your way. They seem to understand and let you go with a deep sigh, not fully believing your hidden lie.

You decided to finally check your phone after multiple unanswered texts made their way to your screen. A small smile seemed to form on your face when reading all that Nat had to say, you didn’t understand how she and her family were known as the ‘devil of the town’ when she was so loving. All she ever did was care for you, she had changed from her old ways and turned into something so amazing and kind, yet it was reserved only for you.

“Yes, Nat?” You dragged out, resting your phone on the bedside table as you started to rid yourself of your clothing. You grabbed the shirt she had given you a few weeks back, it was a bit large and you loved it. You then put on a pair of boxers and turned off your lights before laying down in bed, feeling all of your tense muscles start to ease.

“I missed you, baby.” You chuckled and earned a groan on the other end of the line.

“Don’t laugh at me, my bed is so cold without you.” The rest of your two hours were spent quietly giggling and talking with the redhead before you fell into a deep sleep, being unable to hear the words whispered out of Nat’s mouth. She was content, all she ever wanted was you, even if she used horrid ways of showing it in the past.

“Why do you look so tired?” Wanda asked you the next morning when taking notice of your eye bags and occasional yawns. You turned to look at her, removing your attention from the man on the podium and locking it onto her.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You whispered. You hated lying to the woman, but you knew it would just bring more vexation if you were to tell the truth. She could tell there was more, but she held back. There was no point in pushing if she’d receive nothing in return.

The next hour dragged on painfully long with Wanda’s worries only continuing. She just wanted your attention the way she used to, yet yours was on another. Nat wasn’t good for you but she was, she just didn’t seem to understand how deep your love for her went.

“Wanda, wait.” You called out after the ceremony, watching her grab her things as she was rushing to her car. She turned to look at you, urging you to go on the closer you got to her.

“Can I talk to you? Alone?” You were surrounded by no one, seeming as most parents and their children were forced to keep conversation with the other towns folk. She didn’t speak, only giving you a curt nod before opening the back door. She came with her parents just like she had done for her entire 19 years of living. It was just easier.

She signaled for you to get in and you did, following behind her as she smoothed out her dress on the seat.

“Mom and Dad should be out soon, they won’t mind if you come over.” Her parents loved you, even taking to ask where you had been ever since the distance between you and Wanda grew. You wanted to see the woman, but it seemed as though she didn’t want to see you.

“Hey, Y/N! We were wondering where you’ve been!” Her mother cheerfully pitched with a smile that you shared. A small conversation grew between the three of you, yet the daughter stayed silenced. Even when you arrived at your destination her mouth didn’t open. It wasn’t until she opened her bedroom door for you both that she finally spoke, it felt relaxing to finally hear her voice in person again. It felt like forever since you did, even if it was only a few minutes.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” She refused to look at you, knowing it would be too hard on her.

“I think you know, Wands.” The nickname brought a saddened smile to her face that quivered, it was one full of memories and lost time.

“I know you found out months ago about my feelings for you, but I didn’t think it would ruin our friendship.” You stalked behind her, noticing the nervous twitching of the rings on her fingers. You grabbed them, interlacing your hand with hers as she released a deep breath.

“I’m not mad at you for that.” You turned her around gently so she would face you, the soft features on her face bringing a longing that you wished to fill.

“Then what is it? Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix this, so I can fix us.” You wanted her to admit the feelings she had been harboring for so long, it had been gnawing at her for months, even before she knew of your shared love.

“Please, Wanda. I love you too much to lose you.” You begged, and it nearly brought tears to the woman’s eyes. The same eyes you found yourself often lost in, just admiring her beauty that you cherished greatly.

“I’m not mad at you for liking me, I’m upset because you never did anything.” She finally spoke so quietly that you almost didn’t hear her. Even with your knowledge of her growing crush, the words still sent shivers down your spine and caused your face to falter.

“I-“

“Please don’t say anything, this is already embarrassing enough.” For a split second, you worried over the possibility of her parents barging in, but it soon faded the closer you got to Wanda. She tried to scurry out of your hold, only to feel your arms on her waist, locking her in place.

“Look at me. Please look at me, sweetheart.” She couldn’t meet your eyes without taking notice of your lips that were nearly begging to be pecked. She wanted to be the one to do so, and knowing Nat was instead only caused more jealousy to rise to the surface. Her high school bully, the woman who tormented her every move and every step, the one who sent her crying into your arms was now the one holding you; how was that fair? Every aspect of her life was taken from none other than Natasha Romanoff, now she was stealing her one true love as well, and she couldn’t let that be. She couldn’t let you kiss her, hold her, make love to her without you knowing that she could be the replacement, that she had been aching to be yours since she met you.

She didn’t understand the thoughts at the time, but that all changed when she was allowed access to the internet. She was scared to search for the reasoning, afraid her parents might catch sighting and discipline her for her curiosity. Although, the results only brought more shame than her mother or father ever could, she liked you. And not the type most friends felt for one another, the type she was supposed to feel with a man yet felt for a woman.

“I’m sorry..”

“No, no, you don’t need to apologize. Come here.” You ushered her into a hug full of warmth, but fear was hidden beneath her barriers.

When she leaned back unwillingly, the only thing her vision could take notice of was your slightly parted lips that called her name.

“I don’t know why I feel this way, but is it bad to say I like it?” While it brought pain and sadness along with harsh reality, it felt comforting whenever she was with you. She wanted your love, but she wanted more than that. She wanted your heart, your attention, yet she felt selfish for wanting it.

“No, it’s completely normal. You can’t help who you feel, Wanda, and I would never shame you for that.” You brushed her hair behind her ear, sending a warm smile that did little to stop her. She couldn’t help it now.

Her lips had a mind of their own when they met with yours, and while you wanted nothing more than to give in and bathe in her presence, you knew you couldn’t. You leaned back, causing the woman to chase after you.

“Wanda, we can’t.”

“Why not?” She forced out rather loudly. She was the one to pull you close this time, hoping and praying that you’d listen to your heart instead of your mind, she could only hope your heart was beating for her.

“You have a boyfriend-“

“I don’t love him though, I’ve been planning to break up with him but I didn’t know how.” She argued, smiling slightly when she noticed your sight landing on her own chapstick-covered lips.

“What about Nat?”

“You two aren’t together officially, you’re allowed to speak to other people.” You both knew the lie in her words, but you were both so desperately trying to believe them.

“What if you regret it?”

“I never regret anything when I’m with you.” You paused in your tracks, letting her hand rest on your cheek as she checked the door one last time.

“This is wrong-“

“Then why does it feel so right?” You couldn’t stop your mouth from pressing against hers with hunger and desire. Your thumb drew circles against her side as the tension in her muscles lowered, her brain shutting down and her lips moving according to yours.

“I love you, Y/N.” She muttered against your lips before diving back in for more.

“I love you too, Wands.” You followed, letting the two of you sit on the bed as you forced yourself to let go and dwell in the comfort of your best friend.

Later that evening when you left the home, a smile planted on your face as you waved your goodbye’s to the family, sharing a small glance with the redhead before closing the door behind you, you were immediately hit with the guilt of your actions. Nat had been texting you, begging for you to visit her due to how badly she missed you. There were at least ten messages along with three missed calls, her fears only rising as she knew you’d never leave your phone unattended.

“I love you, my beautiful girl.” Read one of her texts, and it pained you to acknowledge the fact that she knew nothing of your shared activities with the other woman.

“I love you more, Nat.” You wrote back once easing her worries, but developing more of your own. You loved both women equally. Even if Natasha had a bad past, you still loved her. And even if Wanda refused to come to terms with herself, you still loved her. How could you ever face them again knowing the truth?

Wanda thought Nat was bad, but she had no idea that the person she just spent the entire afternoon with and most of her years fawning over was even worse.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Wardaddy

Summary: Reader finds out she's pregnant  after she lost her title at double or nothing. Will the nickname she jokingly gave her boyfriend “Wardaddy” gain a whole other meaning?  

An: I found this fit in my drafts, wrote it months ago but for some reason never published it? Enjoy, and pls remember to give Wardlow requests in my inbox

Word count: 1132

Main Masterlist Wardlow Masterlist

The internet was a weird place. You always hated the bird app with all of its negativity and BS but here you were scrolling on twitter after you found out why you were trending.  

Your face was shocked when you saw the amount of negative comments regarding your relationship with Wardlow. Sure he was 8 years older than you but for the most part everyone had been supportive of it. It was the AEW locker room who kept trying to set the two of you up for the longest time. You were quite confused on why all of a sudden it was now they were concerned with it. A few months ago you were deemed the power couple of all elite wrestling, on the top of the company both of you holding championships. You had just ended a feud with your real life best friend Britt Baker and her long time boyfriend Adam Cole. 

The fans loved it, mixed tag matches were surprisingly uncommon in aew so when they became a regular occurrence in your feud the fans were quick to eat it all up.

Having had enough of social media for the day you stepped into catering for the first time after losing your championship  two weeks ago at double or nothing. You ran into Britt who had beat you in a no DQ match for the women's championship. 

“Sup, Champ” You called to your friend

“Hey Mama, how’s it going” Britt replied back

“Not much, I'm literally starving. I’ve been oddly hungry the past few days and more bloated than usual.” you said hand on your stomach looking at all of the different options catering had to offer. 

Britt laughed, handing you a plate. The two of you got some food before you found somewhere quiet to eat. Far away from all of the cameras and wrestlers. While you enjoyed your food Britt asked you…

“How’s your shoulder doing?” 

“It can be better, still hurts like a son of a bitch though” you replied, looking down at your shoulder that had been taped together in a million different ways

“Sorry about that again” She apologized knowing she was the cause of your injury

“Why are you sorry, shit happens.” You said a little bit confused on why she kept apologizing. The injury wasn’t even her fault. You were the one that called out the spot with the steps. 

“Medical won’t clear me quite yet, hopefully within the next few weeks or so” you responded oddly calmly, secretly upset you weren't able to compete in the show tonight. 

“Good luck out there tonight, tho. I hope you kick Thunder Rosa’s Ass!” 

“I will don’t worry” Britt responded laughing 

Time skip: 4 weeks later 

“Is it still that bad?” Your boyfriend Wardlow called through the door of your hotel bathroom. 

“I feel like my insides are falling out” you said in agony clutching your stomach as you threw up whatever you had left in your stomach. 

“Can I come in?” he asked nervously 

“No! I'm hideous go away” your words laced with venom as they left your lips. 

The medical staff had finally cleared you to return on this week's episode of Dynamite but your body had other ideas. You felt like you were dying and your poor boyfriend had no idea what to do. He tried his very best and you appreciated it but it came to the point where you just wanted to be alone. You cleaned up and finally stepped out of the bathroom to be greeted by Wardlow. He handed you some fresh clothes. As you were putting on your shirt you looked down at your stomach.

“Did I gain weight” you said as you looked in the mirror

“I think you look fine Y/N” Wardlow replied annoyed you would ask such a question 

“No honestly, I think I did” 

“Y/N, your probably just bloated” he replied rolling his eyes

“Whatever” you scoffed 

You arrived to the arena, looking and feeling like shit. You decided to stop by the doctor to let them know that you weren't feeling the best, all it took was one of the doctors to look at the dark circles under your eyes and pale look in your skin to deem you uncleared for the show tonight. It made you feel like shit, working hard with physios to get your shoulder better only to catch some bug before your return. Thankfully Britt wasn’t booked for the show tonight so the two of you could hang out and watch the show from one of the skyboxes in the arena. 

“So you are still not feeling good?” Britt asked, curiously 

“Yep, I don’t know how this is even possible but I feel like I’m getting worse” You told her truthfully. 

“When was the last time you got your period?” Britt asked, shit, you never even thought about that

“Ummm maybe a few months ago” 

“Have you ever thought that you might be pregnant?” 

“I mean we are careful but that would explain a lot of things”  

“Since we both have nothing to do, how bout we leave the arena, grab a few tests and we can go back to the hotel and see. I’m sure you don’t want to take a test in the locker room with all those nosey people” 

That is exactly what the two of you did, you told your respective partners to meet back at the hotel and let everyone else know that you would be hedging out for the evening. You and Brit ended up getting four different kinds of tests and a few goodies to bring back to the hotel. Unfortunately a fan recognized the two of you at the CVS that just so happened to be next to your hotel. Lying, you said the pregnancy tests were for a segment for the next BTE, now you somehow would have to tell the bucks to include some kind of skit involving pregnancy tests in next week's episode to keep true to your lie. 

Currently you and Britt sat on top of the hotel bed, munching on some chips as you both stared at the blinking screen of the pregnancy test. “How long is this going to take? I feel like we have been sitting here forever” You asked Britt. “According to this it says 5 minutes” Britt responded. 

Just then the test stopped flashing. ‘Pregnant 4-6 weeks’ 

You and Britt had no idea what to say, the two of you in shock at what you were seeing. You were first to break the silence “This has to be wrong. No way I’m pregnant” 

Sure enough you were pregnant. You took 5 more to make sure, all 6 tests saying the same thing. What was Wardlow going to think? 

[makingqueerhistory]

Queer Woman-led Contemporary Fiction

There are some affiliate links below in case you want to support MQH.

The Subtweet

Vivek Shraya

Indie musician Neela Devaki has built a career writing the songs she wants to hear but nobody else is singing. When one of Neela's songs is covered by internet artist RUK-MINI and becomes a viral sensation, the two musicians meet and a transformative friendship begins. But before long, the systemic pressures that pit women against one another begin to bear down on Neela and RUK-MINI, stirring up self-doubt and jealousy. With a single tweet, their friendship implodes, a career is destroyed, and the two women find themselves at the centre of an internet firestorm.

Sadie

Courtney Summers

When popular radio personality West McCray receives a desperate phone call from a stranger imploring him to find nineteen-year-old runaway Sadie Hunter, he's not convinced there's a story there; girls go missing all the time. But when it's revealed that Sadie fled home after the brutal murder of her little sister, Mattie, West travels to the small town of Cold Creek, Colorado, to uncover what happened. Sadie has no idea that her journey to avenge her sister will soon become the subject of a blockbuster podcast. Armed with a switchblade, Sadie follows meager clues hoping they'll lead to the man who took Mattie's life, because she's determined to make him pay with his own. But as West traces her path to the darkest, most dangerous corners of big cities and small towns, a deeply unsettling mystery begins to unfold- one bigger than them both. Can he find Sadie before it's too late?

Ghost Wall

Sarah Moss

In the north of England, far from the intrusions of cities but not far from civilization, Silvie and her family are living as if they are ancient Britons, surviving by the tools and knowledge of the Iron Age. For two weeks, the length of her father's vacation, they join an anthropology course set to reenact life in simpler times. They are surrounded by forests of birch and rowan; they make stew from foraged roots and hunted rabbit. The students are fulfilling their coursework; Silvie's father is fulfilling his lifelong obsession. He has raised her on stories of early man, taken her to witness rare artifacts, recounted time and again their rituals and beliefs--particularly their sacrifices to the bog. Mixing with the students, Silvie begins to see, hear, and imagine another kind of life, one that might include going to university, traveling beyond England, choosing her own clothes and food, speaking her mind. The ancient Britons built ghost walls to ward off enemy invaders, rude barricades of stakes topped with ancestral skulls. When the group builds one of their own, they find a spiritual connection to the past. What comes next but human sacrifice?

You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty

Akwaeke Emezi

Feyi Adekola wants to learn how to be alive again. It's been five years since the accident that killed the love of her life and she's almost a new person now--an artist with her own studio and sharing a brownstone apartment with her ride-or-die best friend, Joy, who insists it's time for Feyi to ease back into the dating scene. Feyi isn't ready for anything serious, but a steamy encounter at a rooftop party cascades into a whirlwind summer she could have never imagined: a luxury trip to a tropical island, decadent meals in the glamorous home of a celebrity chef, and a major curator who wants to launch her art career. She's even started dating the perfect guy, but their new relationship might be sabotaged before it has a chance by the overwhelming desire Feyi feels every time she locks eyes with the one person in the house who is most definitely off-limits--his father. This new life she asked for just got a lot more complicated, and Feyi must begin her search for real answers.

[whatsaneggimcis]

Signs everything I thought I knew was wrong

I needed to dump my thoughts and feelings somewhere because I feel like im annoying my support group. I think my egg finally cracked Wednesday and immediately I had to start researching and buying gender affirming things. Anyways, here's my list of signs that I wish I had seen like a decade ago, please be kind I'm very new to opening up like this

Another Girl in elementary threatened me with makeup and cross dressing and I wanted it bad.

I think this one is such a major factor in why I feel like this has to be real. Its well before puberty and well before I knew transitioning was a thing. Just a natural thought for someone who’s the wrong gender

Multiple times pleading with god to just make me a girl

Still cis tho obv

Thinking if I held still for long enough in bed, some sort of magic would make me a girl and fix this wrong body of mine

I still remember the dreams where im a girl, i legit became proficient at lucid dreaming just for it.

Ah fuck the egg_irl memes are hitting too hard

My favorite game character is Bridget, listening back to the song is hitting really hard actually

Legit had an anxiety attack and took a day off work because my transfem friend said “careful, i said the same thing before i came out”

Wishing i had magic to turn myself into a girl

Playing female characters just to feel cute

Putting on leggings in highschool, then sleeping in them

Some female mannerisms

Kinda hating my poor skin but couldnt do anything about it since thats only for women am i right fellas

Mild euphoria when someone says good girl

Envisioning myself as the girl during fantasies

Jealousy over a womans body

Ive never seen any man sit cross legged at a table the way i do, idk why that one pops up but i’ve seen plenty of other girls do it

Desire to steal womans clothing to cross dress

At current moment I have no desire to bite my nails because I want them to grow out, even though I was a nail biter for 27 years

In pre school, tried to convince another girl to swap clothes with me

In pre school, loved pretending i was at a hair salon and the other girls in the school would give me a haircut. It gave me ASMR

Speaking of ASMR, I like exclusively listen to makeup, nail and hair roleplays

Feeling like i dont want to transition because I could be ugly

After realization, I dont have nearly as much of an appetite, maybe subconscious bodily sabotage in the form of overeating

Not seeing any future when I tried to plan my life better, before I ever considered the option of becoming trans

Feeling hurt when my dad made somewhat transphobic comments about my trans cousin

Wondering what my parents would do if i woke up one day as a woman and had to explain that to them

Genuine euphoria at the idea of trying on womens clothing, but thinking that i was weird and kinky

Playing with stuffed animals with my best childhood friend, a fellow girl

Hating my balls

I bet it feels good to cry, its probably cathartic

Hating body hair god i hate this so much, I’m just bad at shaving it and dont want to be covered in razor burns and have to explain to coworkers why I shaved my legs and arms

Hating my nose

Adopting a super masculine persona

Forcing myself to have a much deeper voice to not feel any of my true feelings

Actually seeing a future after considering becoming trans

Being hurt by transphobic comments at work before I realized my egg status

Was I sending what they said to my friend because i was hurt by it and wanted reassurance?

When i started drawing again, i had no desire to draw “cool badass epic shit” i just wanted to draw super cosy watercolor paintings.

God damn it i’ll say it, I fucking love pastels. Both the art medium and the color spectrum

Repression of my desire to dance and sing, or I guess express myself in any format due to internalized transphobia

“Mens fashion is so lame, girls have it so good. Im cis tho”

Pure depression my entire adult life

Wanting genuine friend connections with women in a more feminine way

Never caring about going out and buying clothes because none of them worked for me

Trying to force myself to not look at girls clothes because “thats only what weirdos do”

On this topic, how the fuck did i think this shit was normal… i wasnt watching women or anything, its not like i was being creepy in reality. I just wanted to see the womens clothes. Why is that such a bad thing for someone to want

Being jealous of my friend since he was openly wearing his girlfriend’s sweatshirt

Dude i stared longingly at a pink gamer girl chair, still cis tho

Speaking of gamers, being super jealous of C9 Sneaky that he could pass so well and was totally fine with showing that whole side of himself online. Same with Finnster.

I think i hate my voice, ever since realizing this about myself i cant help but hear my voice and think its not me

Being afraid to see a therapist because im not sure honestly

Fearing crying, but that might not be internalized transphobia and actually just be a side product of the vice grip on masculinity in society

Daydreaming about becoming a girl

General body dysmorphia

I want to cry but i cant, why cant I cry why

[15-lizards]

so this must be a weird request, but i was thinking about myriah martell (daeron ii's wife) and her relationship with the targaryen court. i figured that, as naerys wasn't such a strong figure at court nor the most fashionable, during aegon iv's rule myriah would be the closest to a fashion icon/inspiration for daeron's faction, however, as a martell in a deeply anti-dorne with a racist father-by-law/king, her influence would probably be quite limited at the time of his reign, both in fashion and in politics. hopefully, if martin doesn't kill her in f&b2, how do you think her queenship would influence the fashion in court? if you have any ideas of how as princess of dragonstone she and her supporters would dress, i'd love to hear about them too! (sorry for the bad english, i am brazilian and am writing this at 3am during research for fanfic, so it's not my most cohesive moment)

I am so sorry this is so late dear I just noticed this while I’m clearing out my ask box

Okay side note so I’ve never been able to decide on one main inspiration for Dorne, and I really don’t want that to read as orientalist conglomeration of multiple middle eastern cultures. I just can’t decide which real-world culture works the best, so please let me know if anything I say comes off as orientalist bc I really don’t want to do that!

Okay all that being said: I feel like Pakistani and Indian fashions are the biggest inspos for this time period in particular. Unfortunately we don’t know much about Myriah’s personality, but she seemed to mesh well with Daeron, so I take that as her being a more moderate, calm personality. Dressing in clothes that were fitting for her station as a princess of Dorne with gold stitched silks etc. but still have some degree of modesty at the same time. Her and her ladies always wore a few layers over their gowns, and always had some sort of shawl or scarf with them. Despite their compliance to the standards of Kings Landing, Dornish fashions never caught on completely, though over the years the Dornish fashion began to change a bit, with fuller skirts and more fitted bodices, while the prominent women of the city began to wear layered gowns and have the edges of their clothing embroidered in gold

[that-left-turn]

The richonne fans actually have lead the discussion on racism in the fandom and we pretend we don’t see it or reply with snark because we don’t really care. I am a vocal caryler on twitter who speaks against it and if you were there you would see that. We get drowned out by the others. There’s not a lot of us who speak against it over there. But it’s easier to ignore it to whine about not getting canon from simple gimple and Zabel. I found you because of your fic. That’s where I get my fix because we will never get it from those men. But that doesn’t mean the bad behavior in our fandom should be ignored. Sad.

I have no idea what Richonne fans do or not, apart from the people in my asks who tell me to stfu and add colorful insults to make their point. Educating people on why something is hurtful and how institutionalized prejudice works is a good thing. Calling each other names, not so much. Most people aren't taught about racism in school, just that "racism=bad" which isn't all that helpful in itself. That said, I don't think it's a competition between taking a stand against racism or misogyny. They go hand in hand more often than not and I'm capable of being angry about both injustices at once. I do "whine" about both things.

It's a mistake to think of Gimple as "simple." He's not a competent showrunner or studio exec, his writing is bad and he's an unpleasant person, but he's shrewd. He's been molding the franchise into reflecting his personal preferences for years, to the detriment of the shows and those who've worked on them. He has certain criteria for the people he hires and the ones who've predated his power of influence, he's done his best to shove out.

Getting canon is important. It's representation for middle-aged relationships which we get precious little of on TV. The 'older' couples we see are mostly supporting cast, there to be a foil for the problems the protagonist has; they're not the focal point of the show. Caryl are from a poor white background (Carol's grandma made her clothes and Daryl grew up in a shack/cabin) and the depiction of that social class is always dysfunctional and often criminal. That needs to change too and it could, if Caryl lead the way.

DA survivors finding love and being able to trust is also, again, something that deserves a spotlight. Abuse is shameful and humiliating, and debilitating. People who go through that in real life need the hope that Caryl can provide. They live in a very violent world, but they've found something good in each other, and the fans who have gone through similar experiences can also find the inner strength that these two characters have.

Story integrity. Audience respect. Discussion on the bad behavior of the men in charge of TWDU is important. I will always talk about racism (even if I lose followers and fic readers over it) and I will also always talk about misogyny and sexism. I know I haven't really gotten into ageism, but that's because my topics have largely been decided by "what's in my inbox." (Feel free to drop an ask. I'd love the opportunity to talk about 'fun things' too 🙃)

All these issues are the evil siblings of the fandom and the franchise. One isn't more pressing than the other and that's the reason why different factions shouldn't turn on each other. We need to lift each other up, as well as the characters and the women who play them. We won't get ahead by tearing each other down and that's why I try to focus on providing information rather than being angry at individuals who may behave badly.

When I was a kid, my mom always told me why she wanted me to do this or not do that, and it stuck with me, because she showed me respect as an individual of my own, even if I was a 5-year old. People are more likely to listen if you don't speak in anger, if you afford them their dignity and you're not authoritarian... and I haven't walked in anyone else's shoes. I don't know what they're going through, so I try to give the benefit of doubt as to people's motives for what they do/say. I'm not ignoring bad behavior. I try to counter it in my posts, even if I have minimal outreach. Change starts at grassroots level, you know? "Be like water making its way through cracks."

Thanks for reading my fic 🙏😊 I really appreciate that. I've been rewatching S11, so I can get back into writing Stick Figures, but it's not a season that makes you excited about its storytelling. Double edged sword since I need the little details as tie-ins to my 'red thread' arc.

[romanarose]

Leather and Lace: Chapter 9

Santiago "Pope" Garcia X Fem!OC

Masterlist

Previous chapter : Next Chapter

Chapter summary: Santi takes Laci to one of Ben's fights. Later, Santi takes Laci on their first real date

WARNINGS!: Mentions of addiction, sexual trauma, bad relationships, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), hand job.

I know this isn’t a gif and its actually Oscar but I felt it was fitting imagine santi all dressed up on his date with Laci

“Santi!” Laci squealed, gripping his arm and burying her face in his upper arms. Santiago took his free hand and rubbed his hand on her knee while looking over to Frankie, both of them chuckling.

“He’s okay Lace, they have padded gloves.” Santi assured.

Laci had asked again to see Benny fight in the ring, and Santi agreed. He could not, for the life of him, think of why Laci would want to come here, of all places. There was the obvious; her and Ben were friends, she wanted to support him. There’s also the part where she knew Santi wanted to come; Santi had only been twice since Laci came into his life, and that was when Laci would watch Rosie. Laci insisted she didn’t want Santiago to stop his life for her, and she wanted to support Benny. So, they ended up here.

Laci stood out. To Santi, she always stood out. He was acutely aware how much people stared at her, women and men checking her out. She was gorgeous, that was obvious. But here? She stood out even more. There were plenty of women, women wearing far, far less than she was, Laci’s low cut dress wasn’t what was drawing attention. Well, not all of it. She was wearing a simple powder blue, flowy dress with flowing sleeves to match. It was fitted to her figure and the color looked lovely, bringing out her pale blue eyes, something Santi never noticed on other women. Something about Laci made him notice the little things. Santi doubted that the low cut dress was necessarily meant to draw attention to her chest, she was generally naive to how much men stared at her. But boy,was she drawing attention. Other men’s and his.

When Laci stepped out of her bedroom in the dress, something he was with her when she bought, he almost said something. He almost said she would be overdressed, that most people would be in t-shirts or tank tops, and definitely less pretty clothes. But she looked so cute, so excited. He could never dull that shine. Laci didn’t even seem to notice how much her pretty dress stood out. She never noticed how much she drew eyes to her. She never noticed how much Santi was drawn to her. Even now, now that they were together, she still had no idea the effect she had on him. Let her wear the pretty dress. Let her have this.

Laci popped her head up again, grimacing as she watched Benny take a beating and give one back. Santi grinned as he pulled his arm out of her grip, and wrapped it around her as she tried to watch the fight, giving little ‘woo!’s and ‘great job!’s when she thought he could hear. Before the start of his last fight, she cheered encouragement, making Ben turn to see her still clinging Santi’s arm. Benny and Santi made eye contact, Benny couldn’t help but smile at how happy Santi looked.

At the end of the fight, the group went to a door where their names were on a list to access the back.

Laci detached from Santi as soon as she saw her friend, wearing his leather jacket over her shoulders “Benny, that was horrible!” Laci whined, scampering over to where Benny was sitting on a bench, Will applying ice to his face.

“Laci, I’m gross-” a sweaty Ben protested

She didn’t stop, hugging him in relief and taking his face with a little ‘hey!’ from Will.

“Why do you do this? You don’t need the money.” She turned to Santiago. “I know you guys have a bunch of money you’re all mysterious about.” Back to Ben “Why do you like getting the shit beat out of you?”

Santi took her arms, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of her in his jacket, then pulling her away so Will could do his work. Attempting to rile her up, he whispered (loudly) “And just think, this is when he won”

Laci groaned at that. “Santi you’re making it worse!” 

Santi started laughing. “I know, that’s the point” He took both her hands. He had no idea how someone who had seen and been through so much had remained so soft. Benny taking a punch is absolutely not the worst thing Laci had seen this year. Maybe it was because it was someone she cared about, but he also had noticed how she winced and gasped when it was Benny’s turn to hit his opponents. She was just soft, empathetic, kind. There was a part of him that wanted to run, run away before he broke apart the perfect little flower she was petal by petal. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t run, and he would do all that he could to not only not hurt her but help her. He would water her, help her grow until her roots were strong, strong enough to survive without him. If, when that happened, she still chose to be with him then he could relax. Until then, he would be there for everything she needed.

Laci’s pout slowly morphed in a smile, giving him a little smack on the arm. “You’re a pain, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He smiled fondly, and kissed her forehead.

Frankie smacked Santi’s head. “Okay you guys, rub it in the faces of the single people.” but he winked at Laci, earning him a smile.

The last two weeks, Laci had been particularly affectionate to Frankie, and Frankie quickly figured out that someone had told her about his ‘problem’. He didn’t mind. She didn’t judge him and she didn’t look at him with pity, she was just kind. He might have minded if he saw any insincerity, but Laci was nothing but genuine.

Santi stood behind Laci as they all walked back outside to where Benny and his opponent’s fans waited with a tailgate. Benny was a bit of a hometown hero. As was Will, to be sure, but Benny played the part up. Benny was the first to leave the military, coming back to their small town, Will following him a few years later when it became clear Ben was struggling to adjust to civilian life. When Benny took up the fighting in a bigger, nearby town, his good looks and natural charisma gained him a faithful following of fight-goers. 

Santi’s hold around her arms was partially protective in the rowdy crowd, but he’d be denying himself if it wasn’t a tad bit possessive. It was the same part of him that swelled with pride at the sight of her dwarfed in his jacket. Finally, he could say she was his. Even if he were to step away, trusting her to one of his friends, no one would try to hit on her. Their group was one people didn’t generally mess with. Except for Ben, but bar fights were different. Laci was under their protection, and no one who knew them would approach her with ill intent.

Watching his friends, he took it all in. He was lucky enough to have the prettiest girl in the parking lot in his arms, her hands running up his arms as he swayed in his safe, comforting grasp. Will stayed near Santi and Laci, complaining about the ‘shitty bro country’ and going on some rant about how music ended when the 80’s did and how country music was terrible, which had somehow turned into a thesis on Bob Dylan going electric.

Frankies was grabbing a beer. Better than coke, Santi supposed. Two weeks ago Santi had to struggle for hours to keep him out of jail and alive. Frankies bender had found him trying to get into Jana’s house, wanting to see Rosie. The whole thing, after he sobered up enough to realize what happened, disturbed him enough to admit he had an addiction. Those next few hours were some of the worst Santi can remember, watching his best friend cry in his arms about how he hated himself, how he wanted to die, how he wished it was him, not Tom. After he was safe and asleep, Santi had gone to get Laci and talk to Will about it. Just as well Benny was there. Laci politely excused herself to another room, allowing the three men to discuss the previous night. Frankie agreed to get sober, much to everyone's relief. They all had agreed it was best that given the sobriety attempt and Frankie expressing a desire to die, they would not leave him alone for a few weeks. Frankie had spent a couple nights on Santi’s couch, and Santi couldn’t help fall a little more in love with how Laci cared for his friend. She was there for all his shakes, to make him food, wipe his sweats and cheer him up. She took special care to make it seem like he was just a friend staying over after a late night, not to make him feel like he was burdon. Santi didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He was just listening in because he thought she was cute.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” She asked, as if it wasn’t Santiago’s rotation anyway, as if he hadn’t stayed the last two nights.

“Oh no, I shouldn’t” Frankie pretended to refuse.

Laci was already grabbing the spare blanket and pillow from the pantry. “Oh nonsense! This way we can watch another movie. Are you hungry?”

“Um, I am, actually, yeah…” How did she know that?

“Me too, I’ll order pizza” Laci plopped down on the couch with the bedding.

“Laci” Frankie grabbed her hand. Laci looked up at him, wide-eyed. Not afraid, but the nervousness that was often around her still. He removed his hand. “How long.”

She blinked at him. 

“How long have you been sober?”

The pink tint of her cheeks drained. 

As did the blood from Santi when he heard that. Fuck, how did he not notice?

Frankie continued. “You know this a little too well. You read my mind. How long.”

Her resolve faltered. “It’s been a long time. About 7 years. I… wasn’t on it for long, I went through a bad time with a guy. When he left I had no access to it and was forced to detox alone. I just… don’t want you to go through that.”

Frankie nodded. “Thanks, sweetie. Does Santi know?”

Laci shook her head.

“You should tell him.”

Laci gave a light scoff. “I think I’m pathetic enough in his eyes as it is.”

“Laci, I promise you he doesn’t think you are pathetic at all.”

At that moment, Santi knew he needed to talk to her, actually talk to her. Talk about their pasts and what happened to her. But right now, she was happy, smiling. Frankie came and joined Will’s one-sided discussion, defending country music from Will's admonishment. 

Santi and Laci swayed to the music, her hair tickling his face as he smelled her, thinking how he could never get tired of it. “Hey Lace” he murmured. “You asked why Ben does this when he doesn’t need the money?”

Laci nodded.

Santi pointed to where Benny was entertaining a group of people, some of whom Santi recognized from his groupies. “That’s why. Ben likes attention.”

“We all like attention, Santi” Her tone was a warning to be nice.

Santi shook his head. “No, no I don’t mean it as a bad thing. He’s good at it. He’s genuine, he’s nice. He’s not faking anything. He’s a good person who likes people, and people like him. He does the fights because one, it gets out his pent up rage he pretends he doesn’t have. Two, he gets a few minutes of doteing from his brother… and pretty girls” he poked Laci’s arm. “who worry about him. This is something Will and Ben have together, Will trains him, then patches him but. But also” Santi’s finger circled the entire area. “He gets all this. The glory, the people, all of us together, pretty girls and guys. It’s a social butterflies dream.”

“Can we go next time?” Laci asked. 

Santi laughed out loud at that. “You wanna go again? I thought you were going to pass out!”

Laci playfully kicked his shin with her heel, grinning. “Oh hush.”

He kissed her head. “Yeah, Lace. We can do whatever you want for the rest of our lives” Santi briefly thought he might have jumped the gun. The rest of our life. That was intense for someone you only just told you loved… But he couldn’t find himself regretting it. And to his great relief, she sighed, relaxing into his arms.

“I love you, Santiago”

“I love you, baby.”

A few days later.

As Santiago drove through his town, it felt strange to not have Laci in the seat next to him. He took her with him everywhere he went. Today wasn’t that different, however. He was on his way to pick her up from Benny’s house. Santi had wanted to take her on a real date, a nice date. It was Benny’s idea to make it a little more traditional. He had picked her up in the morning to get her ready, and although Santi wondered why they needed 9 hours to get her dressed up, he wasn’t going to question it. They were going to a nice place, a very nice place, actually, a town over that Frankie used to take Jana in the year between Santi getting the money back from Columbia and their break up.

Santi was dressed up far more than he liked, but he wanted to make a good impression. It was their first date, and he sure felt like it. Santi had never felt this nervous around a woman. He had never worried about making the wrong move. She was different. This was different. 

When Benny answered the door with a wide grin, he looked absolutely thrilled with himself. “Come in!“ He practically dragged Santi inside. “We want to have a staircase moment”

Santi cocked his eyebrow at his friend at that. “Staircase moment?”

“Yeah, like in romance movies where the girl appears at the top of the stairs and walks down and music is playing and you realize you’re in love?”

Shaking his head, he couldn’t help but laugh. As if he wasn’t already in love. “Was this her idea or yours?”

Frankie came into view. “It was absolutely Benny’s idea.”

Greeting Frankie, Santi gave Frankie a pat on the back “Hey man.”

“But.” Frankie leaned in. “She did seem excited, and she looks really nice. Try to play it up.”

Benny called for her to come down, and faced Santi to the stairs. 

Santi knew right away he wouldn’t have to play anything up. She was ethereal. The dress was orchede, a color that complimented the pink in her face and her spring coloring. It was shorter in the front, longer in the back and the skirt fell in waves around her legs. The top had two thick straps and a floral design sewn in with a shiny thread in a floral pattern. 

“Lace…” He started, but stopped as she practically skipped down the stairs, the beach waves in her hair bouncing. His brain wasn’t forming words. “You look… honey I’m speechless. Wow.”

She gave him a soft kiss so as to not smudge the pink lipstick. “Hm, I wonder how that feels,” Laci teased with a wink.

Santi took both her hands, pulling her to him. “I mean it Laci, you are stunning.”

She grinded at that. “So are you, Santiago.”

Frankie and Benny waved them goodbye, Benny shouting at Santi “Behave! Have her home by 9!”

Dinner, and Santiago did not generally use this word to describe his life, was magical. There were a few moments where Laci’s nerves took over and she shut down but Santi was learning how to put her at ease, and simply talked until she was ready to talk again. She asked about his other military friends, and Santi asked about her brother, each sharing stories of the lighter side of their lives. They didn’t talk about the horrors and the deaths. When dinner was over, they went for a walk in a nearby park, the heat of Florida cooling down in the evening. Santi had let dinner be relaxed, but as he held her hand, he knew they had to talk about other things, they needed to be open. He couldn’t just fool himself into pretending her life started with him, she had 29 years before he came into her life that day.

He held her hand as they strolled, took a deep breath and spoke. “Hey Lace, can I talk to you about something?”

That immediately made Laci nervous, as it would anyone, the familiar rush of anxiety flowing through her. But she squeezed Santi’s hand and assured herself. This was Santi, everything would be okay. “Yeah?”

“I heard you talking to Fish the other day. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you talking about the coke.”

Fuck. He heard that. 

When Laci didn’t respond for a moment, he continued. “Frankie was right, I don’t think you’re pathetic. And I hope you know that after everything with Frankie, I’m not judging you for it. I just want us to be honest.” He stopped walking and faced her, one hand around her waist, the other on her flushed cheek. “A few weeks ago when I… When I was being shitty, you said you have a bachelor's degree and said I never asked. You’re right. I don’t know hardly anything about your past. And we never talk about what happened to you.”

She looked up at him, pretty eyes looking worried. “My past is a disaster, Santi. A lot of bad choices. I don’t want you to think less of me.” Her lips quivered and her eyes began to shine.”

“Oh sweetheart…” Santi kissed her forehead. “I could never think less of you. You are everything to me.”

“Will said…” Laci started, but stopped, eyes dodging away.

This concerned Laci. He had been sure Will’s shitty behavior was in the past, but had he said something? “What did he say?” His voice slightly darker.

She looked back at him immediately. “Nothing bad! Not to me, we were just talking about… about Frankie’s addiction and Benny’s drinking… he said you all have things that distract you. He said you always have projects… And you’ve done so much for me, you take care of me and invited me into your home when you only knew me for 3 days… I just wonder if I’m a project. I worry that if I no longer need you, you won’t want me…” A tear escaped her eyes, which Santi promptly thumbed away.

“Munequita…” Santi’s heart hurt for her. He was kicking himself for allowing her to think like that, to worry. “Laci, no…” Both his hands held her face, softly holding her gaze to him. “Laci, I love you, I want you to get better, to be able to do the things you used to. I know in the past I have… maybe I’ve kept you from things. That was because I wanted to protect you but I know that was wrong. I want to help you grow, I want to be your support. If that means when you don’t need me, you don’t want me, then that’s okay-”

Her lips crashed into his, a ferver and need spoken silently between them. “I’ll always want you. I promise, can we maybe talk about it later?”

He nodded. “Yeah, as long as we talk about it later.”

“Take me home?”

Santi allowed his hands to trail down, peaking to her ass, just a bit. “Always, Muñequita”

He could not help himself any longer, by the time they had gotten home, through his extensive home securities codes that still did not quell the ever present anxiety in his mind, and gotten her inside, the last bit of resolve that had been holding on by a thread all these months. He had her against the door of his bedroom, his hand roaming her body, and despite the pink dress covering her, he was thrilled to be able to touch the parts of her he had kept away from. 

“Santi…” She moaned into his mouth and he gripped her ass with both hands.

“You okay?” He asked, pressing tender kisses into her neck.

Laci responded by pressing her hips against his, feeling him growing harder by the second. “More than okay. I want you, please?” She knew she had to make the move, he would never do it first. He would never do anything that might make her feel pressured.

“Ah- are you sure? We don’t have to just because we went to diner”

“I want to” Laci kissed his pretty mouth, running her tongue along his lips which made a very, very pretty sound escape him. “Need you.”

“C’mere” Santi scooped her up, shitty knees be damned. As he carried her into the bedroom, he could help reflect (despite her lips sucking onto his neck) how this mirrored their time when they first met, how he had carried her the last leg of the trip despite his knees killing him. He needed to get her to safety. And right now, he needed to get her to where he could fully show her his appreciation. She had been his guiding light all these months, his focus, his north star. He was dead set and determined to show her just how much he loved her.

Santiago laid her on his bed with the care of a newborn, and climbed on top, his mouth exploring her soft lips, her face, her neck. “Fuck, I need this thing off.” He grumbled at the dress, sitting her up on his lap so that she straddled him, unzipping the back as Laci carded her hands through his hair, kissing along the side of her head and into the gray that decorated his dark curls. 

When he pulled the dress off, he saw she wasn’t wearing a bra, her breasts on full display for him. For him. Only him. She was his, he was hers. His hands were at her hips, her nearly bare body before him. “May I?” He asked, looking to her, only to find her smiling at him in adoration. She nodded vigorously. Santi ran his hands up her body, stopping to cup both her breasts. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” His eyes trailed her, every inch. He couldn’t help notice her collarbones. When he found her, they jutted out from nearly translucent skin, now, while she was still underweight, her skin had a healthy color and the bones were not nearly as prominent. Progress. She was doing better. Getting better. “So fucking perfect, Laci…” His fingers trailed her bod, feeling the soft skin beneath. 

She reached out, taking off his dress shirt; the sports coat having been shucked off as soon as they got inside. “You know I’m not a virgin, right? You don’t have to be careful”

A slight tsk came from his mouth before it began kissing down her chest. ”What kind of men have you been with, Munequita?” He sounded like he was wondering out loud .

Laci let her hands feel the warmth of his back, the toned muscles under the skin that flexed and moved as his hands explored her. “Not good ones”

“Let me take my time with you, let me take care of you, please?”

All she could do was nod, barely audibly. “Please” slipped from her mouth.

But Santi wouldn’t make her beg, he would give her whatever she needed, whatever she wanted for the rest of her life. 

And take his time he did. Santiago’s hands and mouth were everywhere he could reach, his pelvis grinding into her; erection intimidating and prominent. Laci allowed him the access he desired, taking the moment to just take in him: the taste of his tongue, the smell of his skin, the touch of his rough hands caressing her with such care and attentiveness she had never experienced on her body before. As he sucked on her nipple, tongue flicking across the bud, she whined. Never had a man been so focused on making her feel good, focused on her pleasure. Before, she had often felt like a human fleshlight, something being used to masterbate, a hole for men to fuck. That was all she was good for. But Santi was different. He was so, so different. 

His hands gripped her thighs as he sucked onto her skin, trailing back up her neck.

“No hickies” She muttered.

“No hickies” he repeated, lightening the force of his kisses, moving back to her mouth. 

That was the thing. She could say no. He wouldn’t force her, he wouldn’t even try to guilt trip her or convince her. He’d just listen. She was safe with him, safe with his friends, safe. 

Santiago Garcia treated her with reverence, with adoration, with respect. He spent all these months waiting, and from the sounds of things not even expecting anything in return. He hadn’t brought her to his home for sex, he brought her because she needed him. He laughed at her jokes, played with her, cooked and cleaned and spent quality time. He loved her. She couldn’t give him much; her gift was her body, and he did not hesitate to show his thanks.

His hand cupped her face “You still with me?” He asked, bringing Laci back to the moment.

She hadn’t realized she had been drifting. She smiled back up at the man she loved so much. “Sorry, just thinking”

His brow furrowed in concern. “What about? Do you need to stop?”

Laci shook her head. “Absolutely not. I was thinking about how much I love you”

He visibly relaxed at that. “I love you too, Lacina. I love everything about you.’ Another deep kiss, sucking on her lower lip as he pulled away, his hands toying with her pink underwear. “Can I take these off?” He locked eyes with her to check for hesitation. He found none, only a dreamy smile. Sitting back on his knees, he slid off the underwear, eyes on hers as he watched for any sign she changed her mind. When he dared look down, he was downright mesmerized. “Fuck Laci… Can I touch you?”

“Please…” she whined out, desperate to feel him.

His fingers traced up her slick folds, thinking to himself how she really is so soft everywhere. She whimpers at the touch, but when Santi’s eyes flick up to check on her, he finds her eyes clouded with lust. “Please…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he continued stroking her, thumb playing with her clit. “I’ll give you anything you want, just tell me .”

Laci knew he would. He always would. She looked at him, eyes hooded and mouth parted as he played with her. She had often wondered how the two of them, until this point, had remained just kissing between them. Until the kiss in the creek, there hadn’t even been tongue. And now, Santi had her in his bed the last ten minutes and he hadn’t fucked her, only touched her. He really was something else.  

Laci took his hand, pressing the two fingers that had been toying with her, inside her.

“F-fuck, Lace…” Santi panted out, his bare chest flush as he watched her take his thick fingers, his other hand circling her clit. “Fuck you feel amazing”

She moaned out his name, chest rising and falling with little pants. 

“You like that baby? You like when I touch you?” Santi asked, as if it wasn’t obvious by the way she was writhing on his sheets. “Can I taste you?”

“You know you don’t have to ask for everything, right?”

“Oh, I most definitely do. For our first time together, I want everything to be perfectly clear. Now, do you want my mouth on this pretty little cunt, or would you like to come from just my fingers?”

“Ah, m-mouth please.”

“Anything for you, munequita.” Santiago dove in, mouth working in tandem with his fingers. He couldn’t believe she had allowed him this far, had come with him to his bed, let him touch her, feel her. If he thought for one second she wasn’t enjoying herself, he’d stop in an instant but god -he looked up to see her beautiful body wriggling and squirming to his touch, her hands fisting the sheets, a smile on her face even as her eyes were shut tight- it was clear she was thriving. Santi couldn’t help smiling against her ever-growing wetness. There was a lot with Laci he wasn’t sure he was doing right, a lot he had absolutely done very wrong, but this? This he knew. He could give her pleasure, for as long as she wanted. And he could give it good. 

And she was perfect, christ she was perfect. Her fingers entangled in his hair, pulling him to where she needed him, and he was happy to oblige. He picked up his pace with his fingers and by the sounds she made, she was getting close. Christ, those sounds she made... Santi was just about ready to come right in his pants if she kept that it.

“Fuck Lace, you taste amazing, you know that?”

Laci was only capable of whimpering in response; her walls were tightening around him.

“I could spend the rest of my life between your legs and die happy, never wanna be anywhere else again.”

“Love you” was all she was able to breath out.

“I love you too, think you can come for me? Hm? Show me how pretty you look as you squeeze my fingers? You already sound so pretty, all a mess for me, can I hear how it sounds when I make my perfect girl come?”

“Santi!” Laci shouted as her orgasm hit her like a wave, yanking on his hair. Santi continued finger fucking her through her orgasm as he kissed his way up her body again. When her legs started to shake, he pulled his fingers out, taking her hand in one of his, his other on her cheek as he coaxed her back to reality.

“Hey, hey I’m here, you did so good, sweet thing, so good” He kissed the crease between her brows, her eyes opening for him. “Did so good for me, my perfect girl”

“Santi.” Laci sat up to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue. 

“I’m here babygirl, always here for you” He took a few moments to kiss her again, his hand caressing her breasts. “Do you want to keep going? Or would you like to stop?”

Laci thought for a moment. She knew what was next. She wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for that, but she didn’t want to stop. Santi had given her an orgasm, it was only fair she allowed him this. She knew it was her choice, but she wanted to give him this.

“Alright, we’ll stop” Santi said with a kiss on her forehead. 

She had been thinking too long. “No! No Santi, I want too”

Santi scanned her features. “I don’t want this unless you are 100% certain, Lace.”

She took his handsome face in both her hands, feeling the stubble starting to grow in on his cheeks. “Santiago, I want this, I want you. Please? I’ve thought about this for months.”

Santi relaxed a bit. “I want this too, baby… you thought about me?” A shit-eating grin spread on his face.

Laci smiled, burring her face in his chest, embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“Hey, hey” he chuckled. “I thought of you too, beautiful.” Santiago shucked off his pants and boxers, lining himself up at her entrance as he kissed her, touching along her body to reassure her, ground her. 

Laci tried to focus on his touch to keep her in the present. He wanted this, so she needed to want this. She had nothing else to give him, nothing to offer him. He deserved this. He was good, so good. He deserved her, he had earned her, even if he didn’t see it that way.

Santi pressed his forehead to hers. “You want this?” he asked, one final time.

She nodded. “Want you” Give him this. Let him have this. Just close your eyes, like so many times before… before… before… her mind began to flood to the memories she tried so had to push away, to ignore. Laci tried to will them away; this was Santi, he was different, he was better, and wasn’t it too late to back out now?

Santi kissed her, his lips on her in a silent thank you. He wanted to make her feel good, he wanted to feel good, he wanted to be connected to her, to share himself with her. He had done this with countless women, but somehow this was more vulnerable, more open, more at risk. Given her full consent, he began to press into her, feeling her warmth envelope him and- He felt her nails suddenly, painfully digging into his arms

“Santi!” She squeeked out beneath him.

Faster than he thought possible, Santi scrambled off her, pulling the blanket over her. She stared at him wide eyed and shaking. Fuck, fuck he should’ve noticed, and he should’ve been paying more attention and, and, and- “Are you okay? What’s wrong, what do you need-” He hesitated to touch her, but when Laci saw his hand move towards her and then retreat, she took it, drawing him to her.

She shook her head. “I just… I thought I could do it, I did want to, I just… I changed my mind, is that okay? I’m sorry, I ruined-”

Santi sat up, still holding her hands. “Hey, no, no baby don’t worry about that. It’s more than okay, you can always stop, even if we’re in the middle of having sex. Thank you, Lace.”

Laci sat up, still worried she ruined the night. “Why are you thanking me?”

He kissed her, gently. “Thank you for trusting me enough to say no. You are always safe with me, and nothing makes me happier than your faith in me. Are you okay? Did I push you too far?”

She shook her head, a soft smile returning. “No, Santi, you didn’t push me at all.”

“Did I do anything to-”

“No” she stopped him, kissing him deeply again. “Santi…” She trailed a hand down his stomach, eliciting a gasp from his perfect, plush lips. “Let me take care of you.”

Santi closed his eyes as she palmed his erection through the blanket. “You don’t have to-”

“I know. But how about I stop worrying about if I ruined the night, and you stop worrying about if you pushed me, and we both enjoy this.” She stroked up and down, working him up again. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No-no” he groaned out.

She removed the blanket and the two of them knelt in front of each other. Their lips joined in a deep kiss, their tongues together as their hands exploratorily traveled the length of their bodies. She stroked him, her mouth only leaving his to taste the skin of his neck and chest; her freehand slid along his chest, feeling his muscles and the scars that littered his dark skin. Ever the giver, Santi slipped his hand back under her. “Fuck, Santi… don’t stop, god, don’t stop.”

“Anything for you.”

“Anything for me?”

“Y-yeah” He was unraveling, hips bucking up so that he was practically fucking her hand.

“Can you come for me? Wanna watch you come on my hand”

With a loud groan, he reattached his lips to her neck, careful not to leave marks as she requested, and kissed along her sweaty skin as he came, in turn feeling her come a second, less intense time around his fingers.

They sat there for a moment, forehead to forehead, a panting mess. 

When he kissed her back to reality, he whispered. “Fuck Lace, you really are perfect.” and pulled on his boxers. 

Getting a warm washcloth, he laid her down as he cleaned between her legs before cleaning off her hand, chest, and wherever else his spent landed on her. He gave her a t-shirt and shorts of his to wear.

Climbing into bed, he covered the two of them in the warm blanket. “Will you stay here tonight?”

“Santi�� Laci turned to face him, gentle kisses pressed against his jaw. “I’ll stay with you for the rest of our lives”

The rest of our lives

***************

THANK YOOOOUUU I'm sorry I didn't give you full smut but I just didn't feel like it was realistic for Laci to just jump into sex after everything.

please remember to reblog if you feel so inclined, and comments mean the world to me!!!

I love you all for your support of this story.

@littlenosoul @bensolosbluesaber @milkymoon2483 @gogh-with-the-flow @itspdameronthings @trinkets01 @p0edameronswife @welcometostayingawake @spxctorsslxt @username21mk @lucianadraven32 @sgt-morgan

[plazmafields]

Alright, since the discourse has started, let me restate a section from my "Thoughts on Kerry" post a while ago so everyone knows where I stand on the debate:

Tldr at the end

"I do support the idea that Kerry should have been bisexual like in the source material. I absolutely get that bi erasure is a big problem, ESPECIALLY with male characters. However, I respect that in the game you can only romance him with a masc V; I'm not going to mod him to he bi, I'm not gonna ship him with women. I see it the same way I see Cullen from DAI: he is canonically bisexual, just not attracted to my male Inquisitor (in Kerry's case, fem V). Maybe Kerry had such a traumatic divorce from his ex-wife that women just kinda scare him right now. We can see high heels and bras and blush littering his house, so we can assume that at the very least women are still getting naked for some reason or another at his parties. Maybe he prefers men romantically, or maybe he's just not ready to date women again, and we as players should respect that just like we would a real person."

Adding to that, I'm not saying you can't ship Kerry with a femV, but I myself don't.

So let's talk about how attraction can work IRL: Bisexuality is NOT always a 50/50 split. I always just assumed this was the case with Kerry. We see women's clothes and underwear scattered around his house, and I took that to mean he was still having sex with women, just not interested in dating them. That could be due to his unresolved trauma from his divorce, or the unresolved trauma from never processing Johnny's death. Both of those things could make him more inclined toward men.

I feel like the romantic attraction angle is something most people have been overlooking thus far. Just like how there are asexual people who aren't aromantic, there are bisexual people who aren't biromantic. Even if he wanted to have sex with femV, he doesn't want to date women at the moment, for whatever personal reasons. At the same time, he seems to want something more than casual sex.

So, it stands to reason that if Kerry is sexually attracted to either gender, but only wants to date men at that time, and is looking to have sex with someone with the goal of forming a romantic connection, Kerry would only have sex with a man.

Kerry has been with women before, so I'm not saying he never wants to date women. What I'm saying is that DURING THE TIME FRAME THAT THE GAME TAKES PLACE Kerry doesn't want to date women. So, if femV met him before the time of Cyberpunk 2077, then yes they could reasonably end up together.

TLDR: It's not about IF Kerry is sexually attracted to women, we know canonically he is. It's about respecting that he's not looking to date a women romantically at the time of Cyberpunk 2077.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Asil & Her wife “Tim” (she won’t give Asil her real name unless she gives her an amount of money that gets higher every time the topic’s brought up)

Asil and “Tim” are married because while Asil was investigating a case she found out that Tim’s current husband was a lout who’d she’d have to get married to again if she didn’t find someone else to enter into a marriage with. Asil tried several avenues to get Tim out of this but in the end she was cornered and had to think quickly and so she got married to Tim instead of him as soon as the previous contract was up.  She and Tim don’t cohabitate (Tim lives various places, all on Ferenginar while Asil travels constantly for her work but mostly lives out of a small personal ship) and they don’t talk regularly but every time their marriage contract is coming to a close Asil offers to renew it and Tim* accepts the money ‘on behalf of her father’. *It’s unclear whether or not Tim actually has any family Tim is a dominatrix/escort (two separate occupations but she’ll combine ‘em if you want) and considered very...arousing in every way, both good and bad, to other Ferengi. She doesn’t really care about women’s rights or anything, she just wants to make money and she saw the new movement as an opportunity to do that. She intentionally doesn’t lean too far towards being political so that she isn’t considered a persona non grata and will 100% disparage and make fun of feminists when it suits her to do so. Basically just wants to be provoking enough to stand out but not enough to genuinely challenge the status quo. When she and Asil are in public together she makes Asil speak to people for her because it’s not proper for a lady to speak to strangers! But when she’s alone she speaks to strangers just fine. She also sometimes shows up naked just so Asil will scramble to buy her clothes. Asil has no idea whether or not Tim likes her earnestly or is just using her. (she would continue their marriage either way, it’s just something she’s curious about) They go on a lot of dates whenever Asil has time and Tim seems to enjoy herself immensely but she’s very mysterious about her background. They also have a lot of sex.  Tim is actually a pretty paranoid person who feels safe with Asil...but she doesn’t want her to know that. Thinks Asil is a bit of a sucker but thinks it affectionately. Appreciates Asil’s calmer interactions with her and her steady but distant support since her ex-husband was very controlling and volatile. Currently considers Asil to be a kind and generous patron more than a wife but...who knows~ Asil finds Tim fascinating and wants to help/protect her. Asil also has a bit of a type which Tim fits very neatly into: Cute girls who will bite her. She considers Tim to be her wife. Asil is actually very popular with the other women Tim hangs out with and they all giggle and fawn over her whenever Tim brings her around. Tim loves it. Asil hired someone to teach Tim how to read so she wouldn’t get caught up in any more unfair contracts while Asil was gone.  Tim also sometimes proves useful with getting information out of people that Asil can’t or exploring avenues closed to Asil. She helps her wife eagerly! For the right price~

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #32

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [Intermission] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31]

[AO3] [wattpad]

~POV Artemina~ When the Queen of Artemyra first received notice from Sindria about this Prophet, her opinion could be summed up by her statement, "at least there will be another woman there to make sure things get done properly." She wasn't sure how much she trusted the idea of real prophecies from anyone other than maybe a Magi. Upon receiving the letter from her daughter however, her opinion changed immensely. "Sinbad has finally been tame?" She had to see it for herself. Perhaps, the fact that Sinbad calling all of the Heads of the Alliance to meet this Prophet was proof that she wasn't going to be just any addition to that man's resources.

Artemina had arrived in Sindria a few days early so she had plenty of time to catch up with her daughter, and to hear some of the rumors about the King and the Prophet from both Pisti, and the maids giggling in the hallways. The day of the Announcement couldn't come soon enough.

It was only a matter of time when the sun rose on the promised day. "I hope the Prophet likes my present."

--- ~POV Mori~ This was really happening. I went over the plan in my head multiple times to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything. I was going to prove that I wasn't a love struck woman like in the rumors. I'd garner respect first, then I would start pushing more to be seen as my gender; the King and Generals would use my preferred pronouns, that was enough for now. I was growing impatient. It wasn't that long since the Great Bell rang out, and the first meeting wasn't scheduled to start until the next time it rung.

I held Sindria's emblem in my hands. It, the jewelry, and my copy of the contract from the other day were proof of what had happened, and that no one was here to take it away from me. I was okay. No one was sabotaging me, and I wasn't surrounded by reminders of my past that could lead me to sabotage myself -at least I hoped so. I could understand all of this logically, but my emotions and expectations hadn't caught up yet. I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was bound to happen sooner rather than later, especially on a day like today. That was undeniably my anxiety and trauma talking. Today was going to be high stress no matter what happened, but I'd take breaks; I could handle today. I would be okay.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

I barely had the door opened before Pisti pushed passed me into my room. She was followed by other women clearly from Artemyra, and a few servants carrying boxes. The rising waves I had been feeling flooded into the room with them. My protests fell on deaf ears. After giving me a once over, Pisti yelled, "I knew it!" Then she pointed to a chair. "You sit. I'm in charge of your clothes!"

I stayed where I was. "What's wrong with my-"

"Do you want Artemyra's support or not?" She crossed her arms.

"What?"

The princess smirked up at me. "I told mama all about you. So she sent you a present to show her support."

"Oh! Um. What?" Guaranteed support of one of the other nations in the Alliance? But I haven't done anything to prove myself to anyone outside of Sindria yet. Why would Queen Artemina want to support me?

Pisti opened the largest box and pulled out a long white garment. "You'll be wearing this!" The other women were setting up stations in my room. "It did take a bit to convince Mama to give you an undyed one, but she came around."

The waves made it clear there was no point in arguing. Refusing this would be a huge mistake, even if the change unsettled me. "Why undyed?" The only woman in Artemyra that didn't wear pink was the Queen, herself.

Pisti's expression soured. "You ignored every pink item I put in front of you when we went shopping. You did get one outfit but you haven't worn it, so it's obvious you don't like pink."

I didn't have anything to say to that because she was kinda right. It's not that I don't wear pink ever... I'm just picky, and prefer it be an accent color. Still, what in the world did I do to gain the Queen's attention and favor this strongly? Going shopping with Pisti was not worth this! What did she think she was getting by supporting me? Was it really okay for me to wear this on the day of my Announcement? It would make a huge political statement -especially paired with wearing Sindria's Emblem.

"Hands up, please."

I followed that and more directions while I continued ruminating. Growing up in theater had prepared me for this moment. There wasn't time for me to think. I had to accept the present and adapt.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I was flooded with a melancholic nostalgia. The last time I had gotten glammed up anywhere near this was when I was a bride's maid in 2017. The bride and groom were good friends of mine, but the groom was also the brother of my own ex fiancé, so I had to see my ex there too. It had only been a few months since the breakup, and he had been a major part of my life for 8 years, but after what he had put me through in the last 2 years or our relationship, I would never regret my decision to break up with him. The dress I wore as a bride's maid turned heads -including my ex's- but it wasn't half as revealing as this outfit from Artemyra.

I caught the sight of a familiar color in Pisti's hand that brought me back to the present. "I'm not wearing anything purple today. I was told not worry about the rumors going around but I'm not going to do anything to intentionally fan the flames on such an important day."

She groaned, "Fine~" --- ~POV Sinbad~ Ja'far was the first to arrive at the White Capricorn Tower. The General was diligent to a fault and spent most of his time in this Tower, so his presence was natural. King Sinbad was next, arriving with plenty of time to make sure that everything was going as planned. Drakon was the next, followed shortly by Spartos. There wasn't much time left for the rest to arrive before the Great Bell would ring and they were to start the first meeting. Hinahoho, Sharrkan, and Masrur arrived with only a few minutes to spare.

Sharrkan had his arms crossed behind his head. "Don't tell me that magician woman rubbed off on Mori. It's not like we can start without her." After glancing around the room he added, "Huh, I don't see Pisit either." The King wasn't surprised that Yamuraiha was late -it would be weirder if she was on time for once.

"If my daughter and the Prophet are late, that means she accepted my gift." The deep warm voice of Queen Artemina drew everyone's attention back to the entrance. The Artemyran delegates from the embassy entered with her.

The leaders of Artemyra and Heliohapt had decided to come in person. Darius Leoxses had wanted to come as well, but Sassan was still grieving so he had to stay home. After several discussions, it was agreed that the Knight King would visit some time after King Sinbad would return from his visit to the Kou Empire. Still, neither Queen Artemina nor Pharaoh Armakan were supposed to arrive at the White Capricorn Tower until after Mori was introduced to the rest of the Sindrian officials.

Sinbad crossed half way into the room to meet the Queen in the middle. "You sent Mori a gift before meeting her? I didn't realize you were so interested in my Prophet."

"Of course." She put her free hand on her hip. "After hearing about your interest in her I wanted to show my support." Pisti must have told her about the rumors. This was like when Queen Artemina agreed to join the Alliance all those years ago. She told Sinbad directly that she was siding with him because she didn't want him as an enemy, so of course she would show support for whomever he chose as his partner -not to mention her country's stance on gender norms.

However, "I think you'll find that those rumors are exaggerated." Sinbad laughed off the assumptions about his love life.

She chuckled, "Pisti said that would be your response. I'm sure, I'll see the truth for myself."

The Great Bell rang. The doors to the entrance were flung open.

"I made it in time!" Yamuraiha yelled and then braced herself with her staff as she caught her breath.

1 down. 2 to go. The King hummed. 'What is this 'gift' that's making them so late?'

It took another 10 minutes for the entrance to open again. Pisti's voice yelled into the room, "Before anyone says anything: we are not late! We are fashionably on time!"

Queen Artemina laughed at her daughter's antics, but Sinbad didn't hear it nor what was said afterwards because he saw what the gift was. Mori was dressed in Artemyran clothes, and covered in the jewelry he had given them. This type of feminine dress was exactly his taste -although he preferred their outfit from the previous day more. He wanted to pull them close to make their heart race, and shower them in compliments until they blushed and became putty in his hands. Instead, the last thing Mori said to him the previous day echoed in his head and kept him standing where he was. They didn't trust him. He had known that from the beginning, but hearing them say it directly gave it a new level of meaning. He didn't want to make their opinion of him worse. Even knowing that Mori enjoyed his flirting wasn't enough to fight against the what-ifs that were holding him back. This had never happened to him before. It wasn't like him to be self conscious because of another person.

His Beautiful Prophet smiled up at him. "Good morning, your Majesty." Her face has the faintest blush. "I apologize for being so late. I was already ready to go when Pisti showed up." Damnit. Did they have to have meetings all morning? Sinbad would have preferred being able clear things up with Mori.

It wasn't like him to be so shaken up by something like this. "Good morning."

--- ~POV Mori~ Sinbad was smiling, but he felt odd somehow. Even his answer seemed on the stiff side. "It's fine. But we shouldn't keep everyone waiting much longer." He turned away from me, and his waves showed him heading towards the scheduled meeting.

Honestly, I had expected Sinbad to start flirting with me after seeing me dressed up so femininely. This was much better for me. I needed to be able to focus to survive what was going to happen today, and I was already thrown for a loop by the Queen's gift. Not to mention that I wouldn't be in the mood to flirt with anyone for a while after remembering my ex. Still, the sight of the King's back pulled at the feelings I knew I shouldn't have for him.

The Queen's voice cut through my thoughts. "Sinbad, I know you're running late thanks to my gift, but surely you aren't thinking of leaving without introducing me."

The King laughed in his usual way before introducing us. I couldn't shake the feeling that Sinbad was keeping me at arms length on purpose. It felt more than just professional. There wasn't time to think about Sinbad though.

Artemina had a commanding presence in Adventures, and it was even stronger in person. She was prettier in person too. However, the thing I was most focused on was her voice. The last I heard either her English or Japanese voice actor was over a month ago. Most likely due to my own favoritism, this Artemina's voice was closer to the English, than the Japanese VA. I first heard her English voice actor as Kizuna in The Candidate for Goddess when I was 9, and I've been a fan ever since. This wasn't the same as meeting an idol, but hearing that voice in person was intense for my brain. I did my best to keep my composure. "It's an honor to meet the Queen of Artemyra in person, let alone receive a present from her."

She smiled with one hand on her hip. "It doesn't look half bad on you. My daughter did always have an eye for these things." Was this her way of saying this was all Pisti's idea? Pisti had said as much. I could only hope she wouldn't regret her decision as our conversation was cut short by the responsibilities we were already late for. --- ~POV Queen Artemina~ The Queen was lead to a waiting room while Sinbad, his Generals and Prophet went to have their first meetings. Armakan arrived not long before they were scheduled to start. He wasn't a talkative type of man which suited Artemina just fine. When it was time, they were both lead to the meeting room where the others were already sitting in wait for them.

The news that the Prophet shared about the future war was surprising, but they knew that day would come eventually. This way they had time to plan for the inevitable. Besides, this wasn't something that should affect Artemyra. Armakan didn't seem too concerned about it either; Heliohept was also far enough away from both Reim and The Kou Empire that there wouldn't be a risk of them getting pulled into the fight. The news about scientific and magical discoveries thanks to the Prophet's visions were far more interesting -actually, those things shown through the 'microscope' were more disgusting than interesting. Just enough details and examples were given to make those claims believable. Nothing is truly free however; if they wanted more knowledge or any future invention they'd have to pay for it. It was just like Sinbad to flaunt his prosperity and then 'graciously' offer others to buy their way into it. At least, there were certain discounts they'd be granted as members of the Seven Seas Alliance.

More than all of that though, was the answer the Queen came to Sindria in person to find. Pisti's letter was correct. From the moment Sinbad saw Mori, as well as throughout the meeting, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her for very long. King Sinbad had finally been tamed -whether or not that proud man denied it.

Next was finding out just what type of person this Mori the Prophet is, as well as. What is she planning by offering her prophecies to Sinbad? During the meeting Mori had said she wanted to prevent a few major wars and help people and what not, and that Sinbad was the best person to make all of that happen. But it was clear that none of the members of the Alliance believed that was the whole story. If that was it then Mori wouldn't have become Sindria's Prophet and let Sinbad monopolize her prophecies.

There would be plenty of time for the Queen to talk to Mori before she left for her home country.

((We're finally to this arc. While writing it I realized that part of why it took so long was that I was scared of writing it. The last few chapters of it involve a lot of strong emotions, and directly talks about the relationship trauma I'm writing this fic to work through. Now that I know what was holding me back in writing, I'll be able to fight against it better.))

[sweaterkittensahoy]

My "You" was not aimed at YOU YOU. It was aimed at a general "you" meaning to bring attention to France's ban being equally as awful as Iran's forced wearing.

Because both are about using legal language to tell women they can or cannot dress a certain way because the people in charge of laws have decided they don't like women having bodily autonomy.

We should all be able what we're comfortable in and not be shamed or fined or imprisoned for our choices. I want to see women wearing hijab or veil or "modest clothing" (fundamentalist Christian terminology) and feel confident that there isn't undue pressure to make them wear it. Laws and cult indoctrination that either fine/jail women who do or don't wear the "right clothes" and shame/shunning/violence from fundamentalist cults (of any religion) when someone doesn't wear the "right clothes" are all major issues that are coming from the same sexist, anti-human ideas of women, and they all need to be stopped.

I fully support your right to bodily autonomy, and I hope the best for you finding a way to practice it in a full, real way that brings you happiness and comfort, the way that my own choices in dress and presentation bring me happiness and comfort.

The French hijab ban pisses me off so much. The very idea of a hijab ban is irrefutably a violation, undeniably discriminatory and bigoted. And to enforce it upon your athletes, your champions competing for you at like the biggest sporting event, it's so disrespectful and audacious. It's such a clear disregard for your athletes. They're not just your athletes, they're your people, but France has made it clear they don't care about French Muslims.

[theintrovertbean]

The Arcana Main Six + MC as The Phantom of The Opera Characters

It's Masquerade time, bitches.

I must admit, I have an unhealthy obsession with The Phantom of The Opera. And therefore, it was only a matter of time before I came up with this idea. The 2004 movie is like one of the best things I've ever watched in my entire life (but I also like the theater plays), and Gerard Butler is incredibly hot (have you seen those thighs?). This was the straightest thing I've ever said.

If you haven't watched the movie, then this is your sign to do it.

As I stated in my previous post, there's something going on with my left eye, and I'm in pain whenever I look at the screen. Right now, I'm feeling better, so I wrote this real quick. With this eye issue going on, it takes me longer to write the requests that you all have sent me, but I'm working on them. My requests are still open if anyone has ideas, but yeah, I'm taking my sweet time.

I would also like to thank everyone for their support and for all the requests you've sent me. It feels incredible and very motivating.

I'm not sure if anyone in the Arcana fandom is interested in POTO, but I had fun writing this, so it was worth it.

With that being said, we shall now progress to the good stuff before my cat sits on me and prevents me from moving.

And don't take this seriously. It's all just silly fun.

MC - Christine Daaé

Come on; it's the obvious choice. 

Everyone wants to date MC, and MC loves everyone. Christine loves everyone regardless of their flaws, even the Phantom.

A bit of a dumbass, tbh.

Could probably solve world hunger with a kiss.

Asra - Viscount Raoul de Chagny

Raoul would die for Christine (and he almost did), and Asra gave half his heart for MC. See the connection?

Pretty boys.

Has a few flaws, but is the obvious choice™

Raoul was Christine's childhood sweetheart and love interest. Reminds me of Asra and MC's relationship.

First love™

Brings stuff for their s/o.

Everyone thinks they slept with the protagonist.

Julian - Ubaldo Piangi

Clumsy drama boys.

Gets hanged but also pegged. 

Do they like to sing? Hell yes. Should they sing? Hell no.

I'm sorry, I don't have much else to say.

Nadia - Carlotta Gudicelli

Mommy. Fancy ma'am.

Is this even a question?

Actually, it is. I was torn between Christine, Madame Giry, and Carlotta, but I decided on the latter.

Carlotta played the role of Countess in Il Muto, so it has to be.

Also, Carlotta is a fucking leading lady and Prima Donna, and so is Nadia.

They both pegged their husbands, and they know their worth.

Husband is dead™

Professional girlbosses. 

Amazing taste in clothes.

Tired of everyone's bullshit.

Also, the actress who plays Carlotta in the 2004 movie (Minnie Driver) is the same height as Nadia. Tall women 😍

I am a slut for them, and I want them both to step on me. 

Prima donna, first lady of the stage! Your devotees are MC is on their knees to implore you! 🎶🎵

Portia - Meg Giry

Lil girlboss™

They both look cute and innocent but would slap a bitch without hesitation.

Bestie™

Curious and sweet. 

Gives warm hugs. 

Underrated.

Secret passage girls.

Muriel - Madame Giry

Mysterious. 

Protective. 

Sweethearts who take care of others. 

Madame Giry worked for the Phantom, and Muriel worked for Lucio. 

They run away when people try to talk to them.

They both look depressed until we see them in their Masquerade outfits.

Lucio - Erik/The Phantom

Sexy drama boys with many issues.

They are tragic, they are violent, and they are ridiculously handsome.

Thighs. Look at their fucking thighs. 

Raoul hates Erik. Asra hates Lucio.

They are supposed to be the antagonists, but for some very understandable reason, a lot of people simp for them.

Dramatic cape swinging.

Rose lover plague boys.

The Phantom troubles Carlotta, and Lucio does the same with Nadia. 

They both show up at the Masquerade. Suddenly and uninvited. 

Everyone in the movie/game hates them.

But mama I'm in love with a criminal.

[allywritesforfun]

Uhhh, a part 2 of the AweSamDude story. I don't know, maybe the court case would be cool! If requests arent open, then ignore them

um yes! I have wanted to make a part 2 for so long but had no clue where to start and this just makes perfect sense!

{Locked Up Heart pt 2} irl!warden!awesamdude x Reader

pronouns: were originally not mentioned, but now are she/they

word count: 2987

trigger warnings: mention/talk of rape and murder, court cases, somewhat angsty 

a/n: the law I mentioned is a real law but I can't remember what the law is actually called so roll with it

part one

masterlist

You stared at yourself in the body mirror. You haven't seen yourself look like this in years. All dressed up and ready to impress. You wore a gorgeous black suit with a purple inside along with sleek black pants. You looked into the body mirror, admiring yourself.

Sam let you live with him “until you could find your own place” but neither of you had intentions of leaving. You looked at apartments once online, but you knew with this on your record that you were going nowhere but some run down ghetto, and Sam knew that too. 

He knew that you would be able to take care of yourself there, he wasn't scared for your safety or any of that. He was scared that you wouldn't be able to support yourself. Finding a job was hard, all that there was these days for someone like you was online surveys that were not reliable.

Staying with Sam was the best of the both of you. He has been without a roommate for years now. He felt less alone with you being there. The first couple nights were awkward. You slept on the pull out couch and didn't have much clothes. You felt terrible about the amount of washes you did, but eventually you started to get more comfortable with Sam. 

The first sign of progression was when he offered you his sweatshirt instead of a blanket. It was a sweet gesture, you gladly took it. Later that night instead of returning it, you cuddled it to sleep. Now, its your version of a teddy bear. Nice and warm and flourished with Sam’s scent.

You only started sleeping in his bed with him a week ago. It was a purposeful accident. He offered to watch tv in his room since you two deep cleaned the couch. You've planned on falling asleep on him, but you didn't plan for it to be that day. 

It was the best feeling in the world: waking up to being wrapped around and held tight and safe. You must've laid there when you woke up for an hour before Sam got up. You pretended to be asleep so that you could play the innocent girl card. It worked.

You felt a pair of large hands caress your waist. You jumped and had a little fear-induced hiccup.

“Sorry!” Sam took his hands off and backed away. “I’m still getting used to sensitive areas.”

You two have been working on okay areas to touch. You taught yourself to be extra alert while in the prison and certain touches trigger your reflexes and others cause panic, like hips.

Because of your high murder count, you were sent to the normal prison, the non-all woman prison. It wasn't the worst in the world. You only saw males during eating times, but it was common to get grabbed like that. It happened to every single female, every eating hour. The guards did nothing about it, not that they really could. 

Sam has seen it before, not you, but to other women. He had an idea of areas to stay away from, but he is such an affectionate guy and sometimes he forgets.

“You’re okay, Sam. The more you do it, the more comfortable I’ll get with it,” You explained.

Sam was so good to you. He’s helped you through it all. Everything that you needed to heal, he gave to you. 

“Well then maybe after the trial we can get some practice in...” He swooned. 

You chuckled, “If we win. There’s a chance I won't come back here tonight. I’m lucky enough that they gave me stay at home orders in the meantime.”

He nodded, “We’re gonna win.” He kissed your cheek, “How could anyone that looks as scrumptious as you right now lose? There is no way. We have the evidence, and we have your perfect prison record. Not a single misdemeanor! They might not drop all chargers but you’re coming home tonight.”

“Home?” You questioned.

You've avoided that word for the longest time. You always said ‘the house’ or ‘your place’. Not because you didn’t want this to be your home, not the exact opposite. You wanted this to be forever home, but you never wanted to overstay your welcome. 

“Yes home,” Sam laughed. “Why wouldn’t this be home... you feel safe here don’t you?”

“I do!” You exclaimed, waving your hands back and forth in denial. “I just didn't realize you wanted this to be my home.”

Sam offered his hand out to you; you gladly took it. His soft hand gently squeezed yours as he pulled you slowly into him, embracing you, “Of course I want this to be your home. I couldn't imagine anywhere else I would want you to be. This never felt like home to me, until you came home with me.”

You breathed in his scent, instantly relaxing into him, “I like it here. A lot.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, “Now have that same attitude in court, we got to go.”

The court room was filled, more than you expected. You looked around, not recognizing a single face except for a few prison guards who were testifying on both sides. You noticed the media set it up in the back. Your story hit the news faster than expected. You did have a great story: warden falls in love with murder. 

“Hands out,” The officer directed.

You obliged. You opposed no threat to anyone and no intentions too, but if putting you in handcuffs made them feel better, then handcuffs it was. You looked back at Sam as the cold metal locked around your wrists. He replied with a frown, which quickly turned into an encouraging smile.

His bipolarness was the vibe right now. You noticed people having a hard time deciding where to sit. There were a lot of people on both sides, but no family members of yours. You gave up on them a long time ago when you noticed they weren’t writing letters and ignoring your calls.

You didn't need them, all you needed was Sam. You have everything you want right now, except for freedom.

“All rise!” 

You stood up from the wooden bench. The judge walked in wearing the classic black gown and had a book in his hands. He nodded at a few of his guards before taking a seat. He opened up his book and looked around the room, landing on you.

“Good afternoon everyone, and there are a lot of you,” His voice was so deep that it bounced against the walls, making an eerie echo. “Calling the case of State Prison vs y/n. Are both sides ready?”

The representative of the prison and your lawyer both replied with a yes. The jury then stood and raised their right hand and made their oath, returning to the bench. 

The representative stood up and gave their opening statement: “Ladies and gentleman of the court, Your Honor, the Jury. You will find that the defendant has been charged with four accounts of murder and convicted by confession. The defendant has taken accountability for all the murders committed and has given detail about how she killed those four men. It is ridiculous that we are here in court today deciding if we can release a serial killer back into the public. With a strong motive to kill, there is no reason why the defendant should be let back into the public eye.”

Serial killer. That is what you are. No one has ever said it that way, but he was absolutely right. You fit the definition perfectly, you had a type and more than three victims. It already wasn't looking good for you.

Your lawyer took center stage, “A martyr is the perfect word to describe the defendant. They have given their life to the state to save the lives of many to come. The strength that my client displays and ownership prove that although they are guilty of the crimes, they are still human and deserve a second chance.”

The judge called you to take the stand. You sat down after taking your oath and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

“Miss l/n,” He started. “Today you are trying to get your case dismissed after confessing to your crimes. That is very interesting. Let’s go back to before the crimes were committed, what were you thinking, what were you doing in your life at the time?”

You shook your head, “Many years ago I was an activist. I enjoyed speaking to the public about issues facing the community and the world at the time. If I wasn't outside with a sign, I was inside posting on social media. I was in college, I was studying Political Science.”

“And what were you planning on doing with the major?”

You paused. It’s been so long that you had a hard time remembering why you wanted to study and what career you wanted, “I was planning on becoming a political journalist, Your Honor.”

He shuffled around his papers, “I’ve looked at your latest credit that you were working on. It was a Sociology class. Do you remember what topic you were discussing in class?”

You nodded, “Rape. The number of rapes in a year and the number of rapists convicted was the last assignment I was working on.”

You remember that assignment like it was yesterday. That one assignment got you so worked up and so mad at the world, that you just had to do something. There was no way that you couldn't. Women’s voices were being ignored and cases rose every day; repeat offenders increased everyday.

“Now to my understanding all the men that you murdered were accused of rape.”

You nodded, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“The attorney may ask questions to Miss l/n.”

The attorney stood up and adjusted your jacket, “Miss l/n, did any of those men physically harm you?”

You shook your head, “No.”

“So you took advantage of the fact that you were young to persuade the men into being alone with you just to kill them?”

You shook your head, “No, I didn’t persuade them at all. All of them suggested going back to their place.”

“But you did stalk them to find out where they were going?”

“No,” You answered. “They had their location public on their phone. All I did was look up their name and I knew where they were.”

“So these men did nothing to you at all except invite you over to their house. And you accepted the offer under no influence or threat. You killed four innocent men and you want to be let back out on the streets? This woman is a danger to society. She seeks out innocent men to end their life for no reason.” He nodded his head and went back to his desk, looking at his notes. He looked back at you and nodded, “That will conclude my questioning.”

You looked back at your lawyer, they gave you back a look of relief. Then you searched the crowd for Sam. Once you found him he gave you a thumbs up. It seemed like you were already on top of the case.

“Miss y/n,” Your lawyer started. “We all know that you killed those men, but why?”

“They raped multiple women. When brought to court, they were given a light sentence and did not do proper justice to the woman. These woman went day to day fearing for their life that they ever spoke out about the terrible things that happened to them. I couldn't let myself live knowing that there was a reason for women to be scared because their government had failed them.”

“Those women were scared? Why were they scared?” “Because they feared that they would get raped again. All of those men were repeat offenders. They would only take more victims and never be punished.”

“So you killed those men to prevent others from being hurt with evidence that it would happen again.”

You nodded, “I would never hurt anyone that had no intentions of causing harm.”

“Miss l/n just described public defense. Under the public defense law, anyone can defend the public with reasonable cause. It’s like self-defense, but for others. She shouldn’t have been committed in the first place. If those men were still alive, they would have kept raping until they were killed. Miss y/n saved lives. That concludes my questioning.”

You were dismissed from the stand and went back by your lawyer. They smiled at you, knowing that with that alone, they had won the case.

The attorney called Sam to the stand; he took his oath and sat down.

“So, Sam. You were the warden in charge of the wing that Miss y/n was being held in?”

“Yes.”

“That prison is a tough place to be, she must’ve fussed around a lot.”

Sam shook his head, “Not one bit. She does not have a single complaint against her. Everything that was asked of her, she did with speed and efficiency. She didn't have one lash out in her time.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Like I said, not one complaint.”

“To my understanding you have a relationship with Miss l/n, is that correct?”

“Objection!” Your lawyer yelled. “Irrelevant to the case. Sam was called because of his position and his professional opinion, not his personal life.”

“Sustained.”

“That concludes my questioning.”

Your lawyer stood up and nodded. You could feel that they were about to lay down the last blow.

“Sam, did this prison have any rapists?”

He nodded, “All kinds of rapists, of all ages and target groups.”

“Did Miss l/n ever have contact with these rapists?”

“Yes. Most of the time during eating hours and the occasional passing in the hall.”

“And how did that interaction go?”

“Miss l/n was given a hard time by these rapists. While waiting in line she was often sexually grabbed. During passing she was cat called and teased at.”

“And what was here response to the sexual assault?”

“Stone faced, emotionless. Every time it happened it amazed me how she would just stand there and wait to be given a direction. The most reaction she’s ever had was lightly shuffling her body to get them off, but she never lunged or reached at them.”

“And what did the other guards do when they noticed this behavior?”

“Nothing. Sometimes they yelled if it was getting close to rape, but overall nothing. We were under instructions not to react because in the past it only caused encouragement of the assault. Prisoners love any excuse to fight a guard,” Sam looked over at you. “I am so sorry that there was nothing I could’ve done. Everyday I watched as you were touched and I wanted to give it to them, I wanted to make sure that I would see them every day of their life, but I couldn't. I couldn't risk hurting you more.”

You smiled, almost tearing up at his words, but you kept yourself composed with a small sniffle.

“The main concern of Miss y/n going back into the public is that she will kill again. As said by her and concluded by a court, she only killed rapists,” Your lawyer pointed out. “As stated by the warden in charge of looking over her, she had the opportunity to kill. She had the opportunity to hurt them, but she never took it. Even after being sexually assaulted, she still kept to herself. This is undeniable evidence that Miss y/n is a changed woman. In her file it is stated that she did more than required community service and went above and beyond with helping other cellmates. Her actions within the prison prove that she is a well-rounded and caring individual. She has changed her ways and is ready to go back into the world. She did justice to the world and it is time for the world to her justice.”

You waited anxiously for over an hour to find out what the jury had decided. You and your lawyer talked about possible outcomes. They told you the sooner they made the decision, the better chances that you had. You had no error in your case and said everything that you wanted to say. The opposing side’s evidence was all proven false.

You got called back into the court, the jury had made their final decision. You rose for the judge and took a seat when prompted. You could feel your leg bouncing.

“In the case of the State Prison vs l/n...” the judge started. You looked over your shoulder at Sam. He had his hands placed in a praying position with his head resting against them. “Miss y/n is found not guilty of all charges and her remaining sentence will be dismissed. She will compensated for her time falsely spent in prison plus be rewarded another trial for her sexual assault. This case is adjourned.”

You could feel emotion flood through you. Pure happiness and joy leaked from your eyes. You tilted your head back in relief and squeezed at your heart. All of these years of the bullshit you put up with was all worth it. You hugged your lawyer and thanked them up and down, the emotion so strong in you that you almost dropped to your knees. You were caught by familiar hands: Sam. Sam pulled you up and into him. He was practically jumping up and down in excitement. He calmed down for a second to lock eyes with you. He couldn't help but smile and cry with you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you into a deep kiss. It was nothing extravagant, just a simple deep and meaningful kiss that said all the words that he wanted to say.

“I’m coming home!”