#NoDAPL marches and other protests set for DC, LA and NYC this weekend

  • On Friday, activists across the country will begin protesting and rallying in Washington, D.C., to “demand that indigenous rights be respected” over the construction of the Dakota Access pipeline on the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation.
  • Other activists will also be marching and rallying for and against other causes in Washington, D.C., Los Angeles and New York City. Here’s what is happening this weekend:

Los Angeles

#NoDAPL #NoKXL National March
Friday, March 10, 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. PST, Pershing Square

Trump is taking away the peoples victories against these deadly pipelines!
Disregarding the sovereignty of Native People and the safety of the fresh water for millions of people.

We are calling for all the environmental organizations and individuals to help bring out the masses and demonstrate our opposition to both of these pipelines and the censoring of climate change facts.

It’s time for the people to invest in renewable energy! Its time to respect the treaties! Its time for the people to come out in force!

Washington, D.C.

Native Nations Rise: Rise With Standing Rock
Friday, March 10, 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. EST, National Mall

The Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and indigenous grassroots leaders call on our allies across the United States and around the world to peacefully March on Washington, D.C.

We ask that you rise in solidarity with indigenous peoples across the world and demand that indigenous rights be respected. This is not about one tribe but all Native nations. 

Standing Rock and Native peoples from across Turtle will lead a march in prayer and action in Washington, D.C. on March 10, 2017.

No Nazis in D.C.: Protest Richard Spencer’s Neo-Nazi Think Tank
Saturday, March 11, 12 p.m. to 5 p.m. EST, Market Square Fountain

“Alt-right” Neo Nazi Richard Spencer recently opened an office of his white supremacist think tank the National Policy Institute in Alexandria, Virginia. We will rally together to show these nazis that they are NOT welcome in our community, that their perverted, violent racist ideology has no place in our society and that they should prepare to meet coordinated, powerful peaceful resistance should they try to operate in Washington, D.C.

Join us as we will rally in Market Square in Old Town Alexandria, right down the street from their new office building. We’re working on finalizing a program of speeches and performances from local political leaders, activists and artists. We are deeply committed to fostering intersectional resistance and an intersectional program for this event — so if you are a resident of D.C., Virginia or Maryland and are a member of a marginalized group and want to speak out against Richard Spencer, the neo-nazi “alt-right” or any other issue important in your community, please send this event a message.

District of Love March
Saturday, March 11, 10:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. EST,
, Emery Recreation Center

Join us on Saturday, March 11, as we march and celebrate with local artists, musicians and community members to celebrate our diverse neighborhoods. Featuring musical acts Elena y Los Fulanos, Lilo, Ethiopian Dance and many more!

The Love March seeks to support diversity and inclusion in our community. We will march on Saturday March 11 not downtown, but right through some of D.C.’s most diverse communities along Georgia Ave. NW starting at Georgia and Madison St. NW at the Emery Rec. Center and marching down to U St. ending at the African-American Civil War Memorial Site. 

We will be making pledges to support local, small, especially minority-owned businesses, connecting to local organization who already work to support diversity and inclusion in our communities and discussing the important work ahead to maintain diversity as a source of strength in D.C. and how we can make it clear to all of our neighbors that “whoever you are, wherever you’re from, we stand together as neighbors.”

Concerned Citizens For LGBT Safety and Rights
Sunday, March 12, 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. EDT, Lafayette Square

The LGBT community is very vulnerable right now. This march is to rally behind the community and promote safety for the LGBT community, as well as promote preservation of the right to live a happy life with dignity. Assembly will be at Lafayette Square right across from the White House off Pennsylvania Avenue between 15th Street, N.W. and 17th Street, N.W. at 10:00 a.m. March will begin promptly at 10:45 up to Logan Circle where a short rally will take place and information pamphlets will be available.

San Francisco

Native Nations March
Friday, March 10, 5 to 9 p.m. PST, San Francisco Federal Building

Idle No More SF Bay and tribal nations in the west are in solidarity with the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and indigenous grassroots leaders who are calling on our allies across the United States and around the world to peacefully march for Native American rights on March 10. We ask that you rise in solidarity with the indigenous peoples of the world whose rights protect Mother Earth for the future generations of all.

The march will begin at 5:00 p.m. at the Federal Building at 7th & Mission. There will be a short rally there before the march to the Civic Center. The rally at the Civic Center will include a traditional California indigenous opening with Corrina Gould, speakers on the history of Native Americans and the federal government, Native American leaders, and others.

New York City

Women in Rebellion! To Resist is Justified! Unite to Fight Trump
Saturday, March 11, 12 to 2 p.m. EST, Herald Square

“Women Rise & Organize” intergenerational and international roundtable at 2 p.m.

Solidarity Center (147 W 24th St. between 6th and 7th Avenues). Free refreshments and child care. All genders and gender preferences are welcome. Bring your banners, signs and noise makers.

Read more (3/10/17 11:42 PM) | follow @the-movemnt

The morning after her father died, the first thing Laura saw upon waking was Bobby, curled up around his Wolverine doll–the one that he’d carried out of the lab, through a sewer, bundled into the fake bottom of a crate in the back of a truck, up the 5, across the deserts of Utah, the Rockies, and the long flat north that came after. He had carried it through these woods, through this fight and this flight, and there he was sleeping, pudgy hands curled close around it.

Laura had read the comics Gabriela and the other nurses had brought in for them. They had been assigned to learn how to read briefs, maps, instruments, but Gabriela had brought Laura comics about heroes.

In the lab, they had taught Delilah how to drag poison from green veins, how to find the sharpest edge at her beck and call, to strangle. The day before, Delilah had shredded the life out of men with a screaming rain of pine needles. She had wrapped long grasses around Rhodes’s ugly bolo tie and dragged him down and down. But that next day, that dawning day, Laura woke up to see Delilah calling small yellow apples down from a tree blooming out of season.

It had been a story in a comic book, Eden. It had been fiction, a fantasy, a dream, a random set of coordinates. Logan had suspected they would find nothing when they got there. He had been sure.

Sometimes promises are fiction. Sometimes they’re written on the backs of twice-folded photographs. Sometimes the nurse with the steadiest hands whispers to you in the middle of the night come with me child, wake up child, curl up in this duffel bag, stay quiet child, believe me child, we’re going, we’re going, I’ll get you somewhere safe.

Laura had curled up in that fabric-walled darkness, clutching her backpack to her chest. She had her ball, the paperwork that was her life writ out, two battered comic books. A photograph with a list of whispered names. They were not supposed to have names any more than they were supposed to have birthdays or comic books or childhoods.

Kind hands were waiting for them at the end of this journey. There was refuge. There were new names, visas and school where no one should bleed for anything except loose teeth and ignored blisters.

Logan had scoffed, and Laura hadn’t listened. She had said her friends’ names over and over. He had pointed to coordinates in a comic book, and she had said her family’s names over and over. She knew, the way Logan never did, the way Logan never would, that some days stories save you. Sometimes a nurse calls you child instead of by number, and gives you flimsy precious pages to read in the dark.

They knew the comic books were comic books. Laura knew, before she ever met Logan and his smelly, hopeless self, that the X-Men were no gods among men. Flimsy pages—she understood flimsy. She understood the way things tore–pages, clothing, skin and ligaments.

But sometimes you can make the story real. “Eden,” they said. They pressed the coordinates hand to hand, whisper to whisper, and they ran. They promised each other, and they found each other there, at coordinates that had been nothing until they made them a waystation, a place to rest. A watchtower.

Laura had carried so little out of that lab. She had the metal that lined her bones. She had her family’s names. She had a set of coordinates in a battered old comic, and she would carry that forever. It wasn’t real, but she was. It wasn’t real, that Eden, that haven, but she had been there.

She had run shrieking into Rictor’s arms. She had cried on Bobby and danced around the hard cracked dirt with him, each swinging the other in wide circles. Logan had slept safe there for the last time. She would carry it forever. Fading, flimsy pages. A tired man with a funny beard.

They would go next over shallow valleys and dry rocky peaks. Delilah would hunt down a deer in the woods, walking silent on fallen leaves and little sprouts, calling death down green and blooming. Rebecca would cook it up over the fire Bobby raised from sparks, and Laura would lie on her back with her hands on her full rounded belly and pretend she was a lion. When they came down from the mountains, the wide low fields would roll out below them for miles. There would be so much sky.

But for now, in this morning, this dawning day–there was a little boy in a wood, who was the safest he’d ever been. There was a little boy in a wood, with a yellow Wolverine doll held to his chest and Laura sat there in the waking light, watching him breathe.

Comatose-Chapter 14

Summary: You are the sister of Charles Xavier. You are part of the Avengers and dating Bucky Barnes. Unbeknownst to you Bucky is having an affair with Natasha. When you catch them in the act, things go downhill from there. You are a Mutant with similar powers to Jean, only with Immortality thrown in.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Bucky X Natasha, Logan Howlett X Reader

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Cheating, Feelings of worthlessness, Depression.

  @tilltheendwilliwrite you are truly the most amazing beta. Thank you for listening to me rant and screaming with me. This fic wouldn’t be what it is without you Xox

“This is a terrible idea,” Storm remarks as she watches a smirking Logan circle Bucky on the training mat.

“I know, but it needs to be done. They need to learn to work together,” you reply, watching as Bucky lands a particularly nasty ariel kick to the top of Logan’s head.

“They are going to kill each other. Logan looks ready to murder,” she says giggling nervously.

You sigh. “Dammit I know, but it needs to happen.”

Bucky is not holding back, using every ounce of training he has to get the upper hand on Logan, and he is succeeding. You can’t tell if Logan is letting him win or is genuinely faltering under the onslaught of the winter soldier. But, the wolfman is healing as fast as Bucky is opening him up, which seems to be making the former winter soldier all the madder.

“Cap,” you call. “This needs to stop, put me in with Buck.”

Steve’s eyes widen momentarily before he nods and calls a halt to the fight. “Alright, change partners. Buck you’re with (Y/N), pal.”

Logan’s eyes snap to yours, a warning clear in them. He starts to protest, but a vicious glare shuts him up.

Stepping onto the mat, you nod at Bucky. He grunts in greeting, not bothering to meet your gaze. He lets loose with a combination of punches, landing a solid hit to your ribs.

You hiss in pain before retaliating with a knee to the stomach and an uppercut to the jaw. The fight is a dance, beautiful to watch. You know each other’s movements intimately, syncing naturally with each other. It’s a painful reminder of betrayal. Of what could have been if he had done things differently.

He has a hand on your throat, slight pressure there, his other hand holding you tightly around the waist, ready to slam you to the mat. You whimper at the familiar action. It pulls memories to the surface of hot nights and sensual, stroking hands, and you arch into him.

Bucky freezes, eyes wide. “Fuck,” he mutters out loud.

Your body betrays you in front of the entire team, causing you to flush in anticipation like you once would have. Sucking in a steadying breath, you elbow Bucky in the stomach. Twisting out of the hold, you head butt him on the nose, stagger back, and land a kick to his side, watching as he falls to the floor.

Ignoring the eyes of everyone in the room. You make your way to where a pissed off Logan is glaring at you, murder written clearly on his face. Guilt courses through you as you come to a standstill in front of him. “Logan,” you whisper.

He pulls you roughly from the room, coming to a halt outside one of the many supply closets littering the compound.

“What. the. Fuck. was. That!” he spits out, “You were dry humping your ex in front of the entire team!”

Not knowing what to say you settle on, “I’m sorry.. It was familiar.. I just responded.”

Logan’s face hardens with anger. Lips curled into a snarl, he shoves you through the supply closet door, locking it firmly behind him. He pushes you roughly into a wall, calloused hand wrapping around your throat.

It sends heat spiking through you. Lust roars to life, and you moan for him, wetness gathering between your thighs.

“You are mine,” he grits out. “Mine alone,” he reiterated as he claims your lips in a bruising passionate kiss.

Breaking away from your lips he drops to his knees. Yanking down the work out pants you are wearing, he forces you to step out of them. His hands are hard and ruthless, hooking a leg over his shoulders. He spreads you open, growling at the wetness he finds.

“Who do you belong to?” he growls as he licks a languid stripe along your opening, avoiding your clit.

You gasp out, hands flying to his hair yanking roughly. “Please, Logan,” you whimper, as he continues his ministrations avoiding where you need it most.

“Who do you belong to?” he says circling the outside of your clit.

“o..oh god,” you moan, canting your hips into his face. He places a hand on your lower stomach, forcing you to keep still. “Logan!” you whine, desperately needing relief.

He chuckles darkly. “Tell me who you belong to darlin’, and I’ll give you exactly what you want.” He moans, his nostrils flaring, breathing in your scent.

“You!” you all but scream. “I’m yours! Logan, please!” you beg.

Satisfied, he sucks your clit into his mouth. Pushing one thick finger inside you, he massages at your walls. It nearly drives you over the edge, the conflicting sensations driving you mad with desire. Logan moans against you as you tug harshly at his hair.

“Stop!” you moan out.

He disengages completely, looking at you in mild panic. You simply smile and help him to his feet, staring directly into his eyes.

“I want to taste you, baby,” you say, voice husky with arousal. “I want your thick cock in my mouth.”

His eyes darken, turn almost black. “Oh fuck,” he all but moans, fumbling with his sweatpants.

You sink to your knees, yanking his pants down roughly. Taking his thick length in your hand, you place small kitten licks to his tip. His loud grunts urge you onward. Engulfing him entirely, you trace the thick vein at the underside of his shaft with your tongue. Stroking the base of his cock with a firm grip, your free hand weighs his heavy balls. Giving a light squeeze every few seconds, you turn him into a moaning mess above you. His hands tangle in your long locks, guiding your head.

“Jus’ like that darlin’,” he says as he hits the back of your throat, holding you there briefly. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty little mouth?” he purrs giving an experimental thrust into your mouth.

You moan around him, sending vibrations through his pulsating length. He’s always been a dominant lover. Demanding. It arouses the hell out of you.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he moans as he starts thrusting in earnest.

Your jaw is aching, eyes burning with tears, legs slick with your own arousal, but you couldn’t care less. It feels so fucking good, and you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” Logan mutters, pulling you off him roughly. You whine in protest. He chuckles, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

Twirling you around, he shoves you face first into the wall, kicking your legs apart. He enters you in one swift motion, not bothering to give you time to adjust. He fucks into you roughly, unrelenting, growling with every thrust. The angle has you seeing stars. You’re a begging sobbing mess and Logan revels in it.

Pulling you back by the hair, he places a hand on your throat, whispering in your ear, “Mine… only mine.” A particularly sharp thrust has you coming undone around him, spasming and arching against him. “And I don’t share what’s mine.” He growls  loudly when he comes, long thick spurts coating your walls, panting harshly in your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, nipping affectionately at your earlobe.

“I know,” you reply as an unexpected wave of emotion flares in your chest. Logan pulls out of you, handing you your clothing. Understanding rips through you and leaves you reeling, breath caught in your throat.

Logan looks at you with concern. “You alrigh’? Did I hurt you?”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Oh..Oh my god.”

Logan strides toward you, checking you roughly for any sign of injury. “What? What is it? Where are ya hurt?” he mutters, panicked.

“Logan,” you breathe out. His concerned eyes train to yours. “I..I think I love you, too.”

Tags: Well? Whadaya think?

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You Are Worth Me Changing Myself (Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley imagine)

You promised yourself that you wouldn’t be caught up in anybody remotely close to being like Jon Moxley, but when you come face to face with him at work once again, you can’t help yourself… Especially when he swears he’s changed… A lot. This is the second part to Love the Way You Lie. 

Word Count: 2,121 words.

Warnings: eh, there’s not many in here actually, mentions of fluff, cursing

Tag List: @flawlessglamazon @neeadinghugs (yo, just hit me up if you wanna be tagged in my stuff) 

When I got rid of Jon Moxley, I hoped and prayed that I would never encounter him again. But the Fates apparently has a personal vendetta against me. I was working out at a Crossfit gym when I met the lovely Seth Rollins. He was charming, dashing, and such a heartbreaker. 

At first we were fuck buddies. But still, Moxley and I’s toxic relationship came back to knock me in the forehead. I broke it up and luckily for me, Seth is all about understanding situations like that, so we became best friends and over the years, our bond only grew stronger. And when he finally got called up to the main roster of WWE with his close friend, Roman Reigns, and one kid that he used to feud with a lot down in FCW that went by the name of Dean Ambrose. 

Seth tried on multiple occasions to get me to meet Dean but every time I was free, he was busy, and every time he was free, I was booked to the max. Like I said before, the Fates have a personal vendetta against me, I swear it. Ask Seth if you would like verification. 

And somewhere along the way, Seth had managed to get me a job with the WWE as a backstage interviewer. It was totally cool with me until the night that I had started working and I found out who Dean Ambrose really was. 

“(Y/N)!” Stephanie chirped as she turned to the corner and spotted me. I gave her a huge smile then declared, ”Thank you again so much for giving me this job, Mrs. McMahon, I’m so grateful for it.” She waved her hand at me and assured me, ”It’s fine. And please don’t call me Mrs. McMahon. Makes me feel old and wrinkly. Steph is fine, okay? Now, you’ll be interviewing the Shield boys, which is Seth Rollins of course, Roman Reigns, and Dean Ambrose. They’re all pretty laid back in real life but they will be acting like complete and utter… Well, how do I put this kindly so I don’t offend anybody in this situation… Entitled dickfaces who only wants to serve justice to the world. Good luck tonight.”

I nodded and thanked her before I touched up my makeup and hair then turned and begun running over my questions that I had prepared mentally for this interview. I sure as hell didn’t want to mess up my first night at this job, because that would just be flat out horrible. 

“Miss. (Y/L/N). You’re up in five minutes.” a fellow stagehand informed me before hurrying off to complete another task for another employee. I turned and began taking deep breaths while waiting for the Hounds of Justice to show their tails. When I caught sight of the blond hair, that’s when my breath caught in my throat. He had changed.

 His blond hair was slicked back and instead of his eyes holding nothing but unkempt madness, they were now cold, calculating and filled with an underlying sense of insanity. But I still felt the slight jump of excitement mixed with overruling panic. I felt a little dizzy on my feet and my hand slammed against the  wall then he froze in place as well. 

“(Y/N), we’ve gotta start filming now or the entire show will be behind.” I nodded in acknowledgement then met the three men halfway and I took a deep breath before plastering a smile on my face. The interview went as smooth as it could get, with Jon- Dean burning a hole through my head as I chatted and asked questions. Seth and Roman shot each other many looks, especially when I forced myself to ask their friend a question, and my teeth clenched together. 

“Um, you wanna tell me what that was about?” I heard Roman hiss to Dean as Seth cupped my cheek and forced me to stare blankly up at him as he asked me several questions about my current mood and mental state. But instead of me answering any and none of his questions, I just shrugged and muttered, ”It’s nothing, Sethie, just my nerves. I’ll be okay.”

“Hey, you know you can talk to me right?” he asked, brushing his thumb over my cheekbone. I nodded and hugged him before making my way back towards Steph’s office where I asked her where I was needed next. It turned out that the Fates decided that I could be granted one miracle in my life and she told me that one of the other interviewers had showed up and was more than willing to take over my position for the rest of the night. 

I hurried back to the hotel and jumped in the shower before washing my hair and body in record time then got dressed, still freaked out by tonight’s events, but that’s when I heard the rapid knocking at my door. I froze and shuffled closer to look out of the peephole then screamed, ”Go the hell away, I have no desire to even look at your stupid face!”

“(Y/N), can we please just talk about this? Please? I swear to fucking God, I’ve changed!” he insisted, knocking again. His voice was raspier than I had last heard years ago and I almost gave in but instead, I ignored his pleas.

“Dammit, I know you can hear me, doll. Just open the door and we can talk.” I couldn’t help it. Something in my mind insisted that I opened that door at that moment and demand an apology for the months of agony that he put me through, and I would then agree that we was both abusive to one another before shoving him out of the hotel room again. Only, it went the exact opposite way of what I had predicated. 

When I opened the door to begin yelling at him, he cupped my jawline and cheek before crushing his lips to mine in one of the softest kisses I had ever experienced.

 “God, I fucking missed you. I’m so fucking sorry for all the shit I put you through. I-I, when you left me, I realized that I cared for you. It was more than that though. I was in love with you. And now you’re here.” he panted as he pulled away from the kiss. I blinked once at him before hauling back and punching him across the bridge of his nose. He cursed and held his nose before blinking a couple times in return at me then declared with a small smile grazing his pink lips, ”You always did hit harder than most of the guys I know.”

“You have some fucking nerves,Mox! We practically destroy each other and when we end up meeting up again and you ask to talk to me, you just spring a kiss on me? Are you fucking crazy?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. I knew he wasn’t the only one at fault but I still held quite a bit of resentment towards him and I wasn’t just ready to forgive him. 

“I mean, according to like everyone that I’ve ever went against in a fight, they end up calling me a lunatic so I guess you could call me crazy. And I don’t go by Mox anymore. Like, three months after you fell off the face of the Earth, Sami and I fell apart and I stopped going by Jon Moxley. I don’t even like hearing it.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. I sighed and shook my head then started to walk towards the mirror that hung on the wall, not even bothering to shut the door on my way there because I knew he was determined to talk and when he was determined to do something, you might as well not fight him on it. 

“You look gorgeous.” he pointed out as I stared into the glass. I shrugged and looked down to where the necklace was dangling around my neck into my cleavage. It was a silver crescent moon with hints of blue glitter splattered over the metal. He had bought me it the same night in which he found the two cats. 

“Mox, you idiot. We need a litter box if we’re going to keep these two.” I screamed, cleaning up the tiny pee puddle that Logan had left behind before I went in search for Storm. He gave me a sheepish smile as he turned the corner with his hands tucked behind his back then remarked, “It’s a good thing that their box including the necessities then, isn’t it?”

My eyes slanted into a look of suspense and I stepped closer then warned, ”I swear to fuck if that’s another cat, I might have to murder you.” He chuckled at my death threat and entered further into the room before he replied, ”Good thing for me that it isn’t another cat then, because I kinda value my life, ya know what I mean, doll?” I nodded and waved my hand in a circle to signal my desire for him to move this along then he stated, “In order for me to give this to you, you have to turn around.”

I groaned and turned around, my eyes closing as I sensed his arms wrapping around my neck, then shivered when I felt the cold metal hit my skin, but I still kept my eyes closed, no matter how excited I was to find out what it was. When he finally whispered in my ear that I could open my eyes, I looked down and gasped at the simple beautiful in the necklace. 

“Mox, it’s wonderful! Thank you so much!” I exclaimed, capturing him in a tight hug. He chuckled and returned the embrace then muttered,”Yeah, I saw it and it reminded me of you for some reason. Maybe it’s because you’re pretty and it’s pretty.” I smiled and kissed his cheek as Logan and Storm circled in between our ankles, causing us to share a laugh.

“You kept it after all the shit we went through.” he choked up,  eyes glued to the reflection of my necklace. I shrugged and murmured in return, ”I couldn’t seem to bring myself to get rid of it, ya know? Too many damn memories.” He sighed and claimed the arm chair beside the couch then scratched the back of his head before he replied,” Yeah, I know how it feels. You wasn’t the only one who was that ruined by that relationship, you know?”

I nodded and turned to face him when he looked up at me then I said,”Yeah, I know. But why are you here, Dean?” He sighed and ran a hand through his unruly curls that I missed playing with before he stood up again then answered,”I miss you. So fucking much that it hurts to see you. I want you back, (Y/N). I want to start again. I want to try again. I’m different, I swear. I’ve changed. Please just give me another start.”

I ran my hands through my hair then sighed and looked at him with a bit of a blank look before I tilted my head a little as I spat out,”How many girls since I left you slash kicked you out of my life?”“None.” he answered automatically and I sensed the truth in his words then asked, ”And you completely changed?” 

Dean nodded eagerly, hopping to his feet in front of me, then shrunk down to his one knee and exclaimed, “I swear I have. I’ve never hit another woman and never gotten into an actual fight unless the guy deserved to get his ass beat.” I snickered a bit at the tail end of his sentence then pinched the bridge of my nose and met his pretty blue eyes as I declared, ”Alright, fine. Last chance for you and I. Don’t make me regret it.”

That was eight months ago. Now we’re standing under an arch with Sasha Banks, my best friend since elementary school, and Bayley on my left while Seth, Roman, and the one and only, Sami Callihan on Dean’s right as the pastor declares ,”By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now declare you two man and wife.” Cheers explodes around us as Dean dips me into a breathless kiss then I grin against his mouth when he finally pulls away. 

“See, I told you that I had changed.” He mocks, smirking at me. I roll my eyes then mumble,”Don’t push you luck, I will divorce your ass in a heartbeat.” He chuckles and kisses me again. That’s when I realized that he really had changed for me.