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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting.

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition.

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something.

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus.

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold.

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?”

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket.

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?”

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy.

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier.

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him.

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?”

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before.

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes.

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare.

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks.

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus.

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice.

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,” Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked.

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs.

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound.

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly.

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping.

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark.

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead.

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it?

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

#geraskier #bouncey's buddies #prompt fill #geraskier fic #geraskier ficlet #geraskier fluff #getting together #boyband au #geraskier boyband au #the witcher five and their hit song 'please lambert stop farting on the bus'#ellie has the braincell #thirsty jaskier #thirsty geralt #soft geralt #protective geralt #clumsy jaskier #soft boys content #bouncey's endless au collection #bouncey's endless getting together fics

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moogoth · 2 years

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OKAY my fwiend sent me this vid without the ugly ass dcca watermarking all over it (every1 say thank u xou)

uuhhh, im pretty sure this was a non-fatal free for all? its hard to remember after so many LMFAO. i got my ass beat after this but this is deffy the best clip i could find from this 1

[VIDEO POST: Professional, flying drone shot footage of an enormous arena that, even from the inside could only be a coliseum. Brief glimpses of the packed stadium seats can be seen as the camera drone follows the action. A barely visible watermark in the corner reads AVALANCHE TETHER 3. More visible just above it is a timer counting down from what seems to be three minutes.

The action in question is impressive, chaotic, fast. About a dozen armored tyrians fill the sand pit, each uniquely equipped with a signature weapon and armor style, but none so unique as the troll this camera tethers to. The only one in so much white, down to her hair.

Trolls in pairs and triples fight around her. She herself has about two significantly larger tyrians on her, each with a differently shaped spear. One sizing her up only takes about a half second before she lunges, missing her target for her temporary companion when Avalanche drops to the ground between them. In the confusion, Avalanche drives a gauntlet into the already injured ones leg. Hard. Noise erupts from the crowd as they go down and Avalanche throws herself back to her feet.

The remaining standing opponent just catches her in the arm with her spear before she fully rights herself, making her shout in pain. She leaps back, nearly toppling over again. The other tyrian lunges at her again. She grabs her opponent's spear just under the head, yanking hard enough to pull the much more substantial troll towards her and disarming her in the process. Avalanche looks primed to drive that same gauntlet right into her face as her opponent stumbles, but seems to change her mind at the last second.

Instead, she runs up the other troll’s thighs and latches on to her torso with her legs. Avalanche grabs her by the horns and headbutts her hard enough to take her down. She kicks off of her opponent and does an impressive bit of acrobatics to land back on her own feet, once again to a ravenous crowd.

Avalanche whips her head around to the camera, a loud noise behind it catching her attention. The footage glitches aggressively as, presumably, the drone is knocked to the ground, and cuts out after showing a vague, fading image of a bunch of boots thundering past it.]

#ic #bessface #blood #actn pst #[[welcome 2 delhon city gladiatorial wrestling my name is zilly and ill be your guide]]

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steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

Yugioh Season Zero: The Yo-yo Crimes of Jounouchi Pt 2

OK, last we left off, we were in a different Youtube video. This one I grabbed off of 2 different videos (you’ll see their watermark in the corner change) and it makes me appreciate the quality that our other episodes have been, honestly. A little bit of compression going on in these, just to give you even more of that nostalgic feel of watching a bootleg anime from the 90′s your brother got from his weird high school friend’s Napster account.

Because this is done with subtitles on, it takes more caps to cover it. Part of why I rewrite the dialogue in these recaps is to help abridge stuff, and so consider yourself warned...there’s a lot of caps in this one. For most of you, that’s probably not much of a problem. But I’m just letting you know because...I sure wasn’t expecting it to be over 40 caps for half an episode, and I’ll probably just type less to make up for that. (Tumblr keeps Erasing All My Words anyway, so this is for the best, but that’s a tech issue I already went into in another post.)

(read more under the cut)

So, to start off, Yugioh and co. walk up to a bar like a really weird version of a bar joke and are like “do you know where we can find the yo-yo gang?” And, much like a video game npc, the bartender was like “I know EXACTLY what you’re talking about, and I heard every part of their intimate conversation. Let me give you all the details, children.”

Hey, PS, there’s an entire Wikipedia entry about the bar joke. And that is wild. Apparently the first bar joke was from Ancient Sumeria, and Wikipedia was like “Here is the Sumerian joke, but we Do Not Get it. Please don’t try to get it.”

The joke being: "A dog walked into a tavern and said, 'I can't see a thing. I'll open this one'."

Damn. I can’t believe the Sumerians were onto meme humor before we ever invented memes. They were in the Galaxy brain over there in the land before time, holy crap. Depositing their memes knowing that 7,000 years later mankind would look at the world’s first joke and be like “I don’t get it!” while all the millennials and zoomers with our MB of nonsense memes on our phones are like “No. I get it.” Good on you Sumerians, that is freakin the best joke ever made. 7000 years to get to the punch line of confusing the hell out of all us. Bless.

They promptly tell Miho that everything was resolved and that she should go to bed and she was like “Cool!” and exited stage left. Bye, I guess. Anzu also went home, but she didn’t have to be tricked into doing it, she just went the hell to bed.

(PS, I just realized that if I want to write less...I should probably not look up Wikipedia articles about the world’s first ever bar joke. But y’all, habits die so freakin hard, and I just feel like it’s very pertinent to this Yugioh recap, although I know it’s really not.)

Yuugi and Honda decide to visit the warehouse and harass Jounouchi. In the context of the show, they’re going out of their way to pull their best friend out of society’s systemic downward pull of a life of crime and most likely turning into exactly like his Father. But, the way that it’s storyboarded makes it look a lot like these kids just show up out of the corner and this gang was like “Damn it, again? OMG small children, please leave us alone!”

Honda hands over the symbolism sash, to which Jounouchi symbolically says “Nyeh.”

And Honda didn’t take it very well.

After tending to his kidneys for a little while, Honda decided to go back at it again at the Krispy Cream and do some sort of insane parkour over this completely ordinary fence.

Ah, the very first instance of real duel law where you duel over a relationship. In later seasons duel law is invoked for things like Mai’s marriage and the right to date Tea (and then just kind of forgetting you ever won the right to date Tea twice). But to think the very first time was Honda dueling for the right of Jounouchi to be part of nerd gang because Jounouchi had fallen to the dark side yo-yo gang across the street run by some 40 year old man with blue hair.

How many times is Honda gonna fight with a broom? Like are they just magnetized to his location? where are they even coming from?

Freakin janitor powers over here, put him in a Final Fantasy style RPG. I want to see what his limit break would be.

Not like it matters, because Hirotani very quickly explains why these yo-yo’s are at all a threat.

Which honestly shouldn’t be...so lethal? Seems like the weight is all you need, not really the spikes. But it’s at least stronger than Honda’s janitor stuff.

Unfortunate for Honda that he just destroyed an antique.

So with lightning reflexes, Yuugi does what he does most:

The death yo-yo ricochets back and does this little itty bitty scrape to this guy’s face and he’s real bothered by it. Although it’s like...well dude, you’re a 50 year old high schooler, I don’t think people will notice the scrape compared to everything else falling apart in your life.

And so then the Yugioh Season Zero team was like “oh shoot is it time to torture Yuugi???” and they got hella excited.

Like I thought it was just Yuugi’s class that were a bunch of disturbing criminal disasters, but I guess it’s the whole city. Like...was Yuugi’s class the good school?

I mean, it can’t be, there’s no way...

but like...is there a good school in this universe? How does anyone survive till graduation? If you so much as disgrace a yo-yo, you will get the torture treatment that I sure did expect in Yakuza games, but not so much in Yugioh, tbh.

Just a reminder: This is the third time we’ve beat up Yuugi this episode. Within the first meeting of Yuugi and Hirotani, he beat the tar out of Yuugi within eye shot of Jounouchi. So like...Jounouchi was reallllllllllllllllly lax on that deal, right? Like...he took his toot sweet time to realize “yeah this just ain’t ever gonna happen.”

And then the yo-yo wars begin.

Just like Solid Snake crawling through the radiation chamber.

Hirotani throws his Fyper-yoyo, Jounouchi intercepts with his Eireboy, and Hirotani’s completely terrible yo-yo just flies off the string again because Hirotani should have just sticked to using his fists. No wonder they wanted to recruit Jounouchi so badly, their yo-yo game is so off.

We never get a door to darkness in this episode, dipping our enemies into mind horrors. Instead, we get home-alone style traps. But, this makes sense. Not only do the show makers have to make Yuugi avoid solving problems with magic in front of Jounouchi, they also have to make it Jounouchi’s choice to leave Hirotani behind. If Yuugi did it for him in like...some sort of duel law situation...then that sort of leaves out Jounouchi’s choice in the equation.

Not like this ever really comes up in later seasons, since who even follows through with duel law and marries Mai? But like, it does feel like Season Zero calls out the later Seasons a bit in this regard. Honda got beat up because he tried to win Jounouchi back by force (or game, I guess.) That was just another form of coercion on the heels of Hirotani’s. What Jounouchi actually needed was to make his own decision to leave.

...most other anime I’d be like “I’m sure that’s just a translation error” but not this one.

So Yuugi runs to the roof where Jounouchi will never see this.

My audible sigh reading this line about fight club roof.

These stupid gang members went into Yuugi’s native territory, not just a fight club roof, but on a warehouse? They were dead before they arrived.

This was like maybe 3 frames of animation in just rapid succession, it was pretty silly and good.

Reminder that like 4 minutes ago, Yuugi was about to get like executed on a meat hook.

Speaking of getting executed on a meathook:

Hope you like the idea of glass in your eyes, because this anime’s got it.

They chase Yuugi around, in a sequence that was done mostly to conserve frames, so you rarely saw the ground until this shot:

Lots of falling down this episode, but unlike Tea, who fell from a warehouse ceiling once and just kind of rubbed her ass after and was like “ah damn it.” these guys won’t come out of it virtually unscathed.

Also, Honda is here now:

Jumping off of his symbolic sash trapeze, he decides to do in Hirotani for good.

Hey so like...walk the dog is a fairly gentle walk that a yo-yo does slowly on the ground right?

Just pointing out how sensitive Hirotani’s fingies are.

And he...didn’t appear to be dead, so I don’t have to add to the bodycount...but it’s gonna be a real long road for recovery.

And now, with the gang back together Jounouchi is back at school knee deep in make up assignments he’ll probably completely ignore since we know that in a years time, these fools are going to be trapped on Pegasus’ island, and at that point school will be just that place you talk about when you try to remember why you’re friends with Bakura.

---hey aren’t those chairs attached to the desks?

Because...holy crap, Anzu.

Honestly this is what you see before you die, but I guess Jounouchi died off screen after the episode ended, so I don’t have to add him to the deathcount (again). RIP.

Alright! That took like...8 tries to get Tumblr to save this one, but it managed! (well...I guess “managed” isn’t the word you’d use for a typing program that takes 8 tries to save)

Next time, we’ll be back to S5, for an arc I’ve heard is kind of boring. We’ll see. If it truly is, I can condense episodes into fewer posts. Or maybe it’s a secret gem? I guess we shall see.

And if you just got here this is a link to read all the Season Zero recaps from the start:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yuugi-muto/chrono

(there’s also a link to read all the Yugioh posts we wrote from the start in chrono order but straight up, this file won’t freakin save, and I just can’t even will myself to look up that link again. It’s on the home page of this blog on the right.)

#YGO #yugioh #yu gi oh #Yuugi Muto #Jounouchi #Honda #Anzu #Miho #yo yo gang #Hirotani #Yuugi and the gang do serious property damage

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pandoraimperatrix · 3 years

Text

On the Sea

BatCat | Smut | 2,8k words | Read on AO3

Summary: Bruce takes Selina to sail in his private island where no one can se them get busy on the deck. This piece belong to my Four Names ‘verse, but can be read independently, but if would be cool of you to check out the main story.

Selina knew she was being watched, and he knew she knew. It was all part of their game. Her legs swinging up and down blocking sometimes the view of the droplet of sweat that he was so attentively following. It slid from the nape of her head, between her shoulder’s blades and was now making its way all the way through her tanned skin to the small of her back; uninterrupted by the laces of her bikini because she had untied it ages ago when she laid to sunbath on the deck complaining she was bored. Bruce had not commented on her place of choice, that coincided to be right at his display, and continued to sail the boat, pretending to have all attention to the ocean and not to his tantalizing wife. That too, was part of their game.

She wanted him to be the first to break, and maybe he would, but it was too early to give up, and he had Selina’s natural impatience at his side.

“Hey, Cat” he called, and it took her a deliberately long moment to turn her face to him, lowering her cat eye framed shades to look at him with half-opened eyes “champagne?” he raised the bottle, before taking a sip without using a cup. He hid a satisfied smile when she swallowed dry.

Selina turned to her side, one hand supporting her head by the edge of her jaw, the other resting on the curve of her thigh. Breasts completely bare and adorned only by a silver medal hanging from her neck and twinkling in the sun. Bruce had to school himself to not choke, and he was pretty sure by the dirty smile on her face that she noticed him twitching.

He had married a witch.

“Should you be drinking and driving, I mean, sailing?”

Composed enough to be able to drink without embarrassing himself, Bruce took another sip.

“This bay is private, no other boats sail here, we’re fine.”

“No one?” she raised an eyebrow took off her shades, biting one temple tip. “Really? Interesting.”

And he knew for certain that she was not thinking about his reckless drinking. Damn, she was good, he could lose that one.

“So… Do you want?”

“Yeah, bring me a flute.”

She sat up, crossing her legs, the salty wind blew hair at her face, and she gathered her soft locks in a pile, using a strand of her on hair to tie it up, missing a few pieces that few around her face and neck. The sun reflected the golden tones of her curls giving her the illusion of an aura. When Bruce joined her sitting by her side with a flute and the bucket filled with ice and the bottle of champagne; he wished he had brought too paint and paper, but he knew that as much as he mastered the techniques, only a true artist could capture the vision Selina was presenting that day.

He rejoiced at the unadulterated pleasure that spread on her face when she took the first sip. Selina sighed, turning her face up to the sun, her leg touching his when her body moved, led by the swing of the boat. When she was actively trying to seduce him she could get everything from him. Made of him whatever she liked. But when she was like that, just her, just Selina, her smile earnest, just pleased by his company, in those moments, without even trying, that’s when he knew that, whatever seduction game they played, it was rigged against him, he’d lost from the start.

“What?” she asked with an amused expression.

Bruce leaned in, looking into her deep green pools, and slowly, erased the distance, capturing her lips. He barely registered the click of the glass hitting the wooden deck when she put her flute down to insert her fingers in his moist hair, while her other hand slid upwards his arm, kneading his shoulder before settling for his neck, rubbing his Adam’s apple up and down with her thumb. He dragged his tongue through the roof of her mouth until the fruity taste of the champagne faded and all that remained was pure Selina. She pulled away, breathing in and languidly offering her neck for meal, which he accepted, starving.

He kissed each of her beauty marks, there was so many of them, and maybe the sun had made new ones. Then, he tried to connect them with the tip of his tongue, pulling her close by the waist, her arms fell from his neck, and she relaxed. Lying down, Selina’s eyes locked in his, so lost in each other that neither of them noticed that her elbow tipped the glass flute down until they felt the cold bubbly liquid touching their fevered skin.

“Oops!” she said laughing and gently pushing him off her to look for the fallen object.

“Let it,” he groaned, trying to pull her back by the hips.

“Easy, big guy,” she said still amused, and standing up to put away the breakable items safely. “What if it breaks? I’m not risking a trip to the ER.”

Bruce sighed sadly watching her go, he lied on the deck, one arm under his head, waiting, when she came back Selina had a plastic bottle in her hand. He eyed it curiously.

“You are starting to look like a beet, and Alfred will have my ass if I don’t take good care of you.”

He made a disgusted face.

“Please never talk about Alfred having your ass ever again.”

Selina threw her head back in loud laughter.

“Dunno, B. Maybe I’m into silver foxes now,” she winked cheekily, kneeing down beside him and then throwing one knee across his hip and settling strategically on his bulging erection. Bruce licked his lips trying hard to not thrust.

“Haha, so funny.”

She just smiled at that, and opened the sunscreen cap, squeezing product on her palms before starting to apply to his naked chest. And she took her sweet, sweet time with the task. She began with his solar plexus, spreading the white lotion upwards, feeling the roughness of the growing hairs, no reason to shave on vacation.

She kissed the scars she made on his left pectoral, and arched her body forwards to reach his collarbones, and neck, getting her face impossibly close to his and pulling away when he tried to kiss her. Ignoring his annoyed mutter, Selina, pulled his right arm up, carefully applying product from his shoulder to the tip of his fingers, then she did the same to his left arm. By then, he knew there was no way she wasn’t aware of how hard he was. She squeezed more product to her palm, and with the tip of her finger started to spread dollops to his face. He probably was looking funny, because he knew very well the twitching on her lips as she rubbed the bridge of his nose. Annoyed, he tried to steal a kiss.

“Bruce!” she chastised, trying to pull away in such way that instead of her lips, all Bruce could reach was her chin which he bit, eliciting a soft moan that made him realise that whole torture session wasn’t just wearing him down. Ignoring her protests, he propped himself up using his forearms and kissing her chin again, sliding his tongue down, following the paths of the droplets of salty sweat down the curve of her throat, biting her shoulder until he caught her nipple with his teeth. Selina gasped and pulled his head back roughly by the roots of his hair, forcing him to stare at her eyes. She was panting, and teasing to kiss him again, their lips inches apart.

“Let me finish,” she demanded.

“Eventually,” he retorted.

She let out a throaty laugh and pushed him back to the deck.

“Don’t make me tie you up,” she threatened.

Bruce shut his eyes, trying to control his own breath, Selina was still sitting on his erection, and in that moment he’d give her anything she wanted for a bit of friction, so, when he felt her weight shifting he almost cried in frustration.

“What are you- oh…”

He looked down and she was sitting on his thighs now, squeezing sunscreen directly on his abs, she spread the product meticulously with her hands while Bruce watched, he had never thought that such mundane action could be so sensual. Her brow furrowed as she worked, a droplet of her own sweat fell making a small pool in his product covered skin, and she dutifully wiped it again. Then, she reversed her position, giving him premium view of her ass while she worked on his thighs, legs and feet.

“Finished?” he asked, going mad.

She picked the cloth that he had used to protect the deck from the watermarks of the melting ice of the bucket he had brought the champagne in to relief her own heated skin, patting herself on her face and neck.

“I still have to get you back, don’t wanna lose you for something stupid like skin cancer.”

“Yeah?” he said sitting up and picking one of the remaining ice rocks and inserting in his mouth. “What about you?”

She smiled.

“Already applied before we came out.”

“Aw,” he pouted.

Selina reached backwards to his face, thumb rubbing his jaw.

“Don’t be sad, baby, there’s always after sun moisturizing.”

He took her hand and kissed it, trying to lead his kisses through her wrist, but she pulled it back and got off him.

“Belly down, pretty boy.”

“Come on, Selina, one kiss,” he whined.

“No, turn over.”

Sighing, he obeyed. Bruce felt her approaching, he thought her breath on his neck was just his wife being especially mean, but she sucked his earlobe making him yelp. She giggled.

“God, I hate you,” he groaned.

She clicked her tongue.

“Your nose will grow, Pinocchio.”

He chuckled charmed against his annoyance.

“Are you done?”

“Geez, I didn’t even start. And I told you to lie down, why are you sitting?”

“Kinda hard to lie on my belly now, Selina,” he deadpanned.

He heard her have a fit of giggles and rest her forehead on his shoulder to gather her bearings.

“Sorry,” she finally managed, applying product on his shoulders first.

“Are you though?”

“Nah,” she said shamelessly, as her hands slid through his back, paying attention to each corner.

“Just as I thought,” he muttered, sighing.

“Now, I’m done.”

“Hallelujah.”

“You are such a cry baby, Bruce, lie down.”

“Selina…”

“I told you to lie down. Belly up.”

He sighed an did as he was told, trying to imagine what she would invent to torture him now, but was caught completely under guard when in a quick motion, Selina inserted her hand inside his trunks and pulled his cock out, sucking the tip.

“Holy-!”

He shut his eyes, seeing stars, his ears ringing. When he opened his eyes again, he found he gaze on him, and Bruce needed all his hard training to not embarrass himself. Selina’s kisses went down his shaft, to it’s base and spreading kisses around the area, to his navel while her hand pumped. She liked upwards again, twirling her tongue around the head and kissing it lovingly without breaking eye contact with him. One of Bruce’s hands entered her hair, undoing the makeshift ponytail she had made before, scratching her scalp as she hollowed her cheeks, blowing him skilfully.

“Love,” he called weakly. “It’s enough, please.”

She gave him a last lick before letting go, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Selina walked in her knees positioning herself in his lap, Bruce sat up and his time she didn’t reject his lips, holding his face with both hands while his explored her body, lovingly caressing the curve of her waist, kneading her rear, and pulling her closer by the curve of her knee. He bit her cheek weekly, and sucked the pulse on her neck, his hand grabbing one of her breast and guiding it to his mouth making her moan and thrust against him.

Sighing, Selina pulled his head up again, guiding him back to her lips, her chest only separated from him by the layer of perspiration. She kissed him for what felt like forever and never, never long enough. Pulling his bottom lip until it felt numb, and stopping just to look deep into his eyes every time they stopped to catch a breath.

“What are we going to do about your bottoms?” he asked before sucking her earlobe.

“What about them?” she answered, her voice barely audible.

“I could rip them off,” his hand already pulling the elastic.

She slapped his hand.

“Don’t you dare! I love this bikini, just work around it.”

“You could take them off…”

“Then I’d have to get up.”

He seemed to consider.

“Yeah. You are right.”

“As always.”

He snorted, and kissed her again, his hand changing directions to her centre, pulling the fabric to the side and sliding a finger up and down her vulva. Selina shut her eyes, her mouth falling in pleasure.

“Cat you are so, so wet.”

“Yeah?” she breathed.

“Yes. Is it all for me?”

She let out a suffering chuckle.

“Might be.”

“Oh,” he made when she thrusted against his hand, “does it feel good?”

“Can be better.”

“How so?”

Selina made an impatient sound.

“Just fuck me already, Bruce.”

“When you ask so nicely…”

She lifted her hips, hoisting herself through his neck, and, Bruce, pushed her bikini bottom’s all the way to the side with one hand and aligned himself to her pussy with the other, and Selina fell, joining the two of them together, finally. He groaned against her ear, hands dragging upwards to her waist and holding her hard in place.

“You are so impossibly tight.”

“If you are managing such big words yet, I can get tighter,” saying that she squeezed him, and Bruce cursed loudly, Selina chucked and started riding him. “Look at me, Bruce” she ordered, “look at me or I’ll stop.”

He did, and she smiled sweetly contrasting with how relentlessly she was fucking him, holding his face to look at her. Selina’s eyes shut, she arched her back. Her chin following her movements as she let out a loud moan dragging from the depths of her throat. Bruce held her strongly as she trashed, her thrusts getting erratic and without rhythm, slowing down, until they became just languidly undulations.

Soothing her with kisses, Bruce rose her limp body from his lap, and lied her down on the deck. She oversaw his ministrations with half-lidded eyes, relinquishing control for the time being. Bruce pulled down her bottoms, finally, throwing it at the cockpit’s direction. He dove, kissing her belly, grabbed her right thigh and sucked the soft skin of the inner part, kissing and licking his way to her knee and shin, biting the heel of her foot and eliciting a giggle from Selina.

Smiling fondly at her, Bruce, rested her leg on his shoulder, and then picked her left leg, giving it the same treatment. Then, he grabbed her by the waist, adjusting her body one last time before entering her again with a groan. Selina rose her hands to his face again, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb as he thrusted against her slowly.

“I fucking love you,” she whispered losing herself in the sensation, Bruce started picking up rhythm and talking faded. Coherence completely left when he started rubbing her clit without stopping his thrusts, trying to get her to come again before his own release became too hard to stop. He leaned more into her direction, seeking for more contact, and one of her legs slid down to hook around his thigh, the other one remained on his shoulder, providing an angle of penetration that only someone flexible like Selina could provide.

He kissed her to insanity, moaning inside her mouth, and when it became too hard to concentrating on kissing, he let out her bottom lip with a pop. Bruce, let go of her clit to support his weight against the deck giving him leverage and Selina substituted it with her own. He reached for the leg that slid down, pulling it up again and folding it to let him go deeper, the slight change of angle did if for Selina and she fell apart again, calling desperately for his name. Bruce didn’t stop, seeking his own release relentlessly until he too reached climax.

When his soul returned to his body, he opened his eyes to find her looking at him with besotted eyes, her hands roaming through his back slowly, giving him goosebumps. Bruce let go of her legs, letting her body relax, and he fell beside her, panting.

Selina turned to her side, propping her head on her hand and sliding her foot up his inner leg languidly.

“My knees are completely ruined,” she complained gleefully.

He chuckled.

“We’ll get you a pillow next time.”

She snorted.

“You are such a dork.”

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

Guys, it's so hot, SO HOT, I can’t remember how rain felt like. So have some hot smut for all your BatCat needs. XOXO

#batcat #brulina #baby batcat #gotham #selina kyle #bruce wayne #catwoman #batman #my fic #Three Names for Life #Four Names 'verse #smut

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itsforexposure · 3 years

Note

Hi. I'm an artist. Kinda. Im not too bad when im making stuff personally, but I'm not really sure if its at commission level. Which is why I'm taking courses and stuff. How would you even know that you are at such a level in the first place? Could you just start anywhere and see if there's demand or... Idk lol how does this work?

Anyways, I've just spent the past hour and a half going through this blog (doing market research lol) and basking in the horror of it all. And since asking this here has a higher chance of being seen (and answered) , i wanted to ask, If so many people are so stingy and horribly berating, twisting everything you say, how do people deal with and make a living out of it?

I mean it is completely possible that what I am seeing is probably just a small percentage of the usual customers. But i dont know that. Is it 10% to 90%? 60 to 40? How often do you have to deal with shit like this? Tell me! T.T

Another thing, people who put pictures of their art online, what are ways where you can ensure credit is given? Ive seen artwork with the signature part cropped off and ive gotta ask, is there really no way around that?

It's just that i like doing this. Making my own craft its fulfilling. i saw this one post on here about some crotchet thing. And i like to dabble in that sometimes as well. Selling some things crossed my mind a few times. And obviously work like that has ALOT of effort put into it, and could get pricey, so if i, or anyone else were to sell something with much of the price built up on the time spent, how is anyone going to make any sales when there are very obviously cheaper substitutes. I'm sorry for all of this, but I was really excited about starting my own thing, especially when I would be doing something i love, but seeing that it could turn into such a burden so easily, idk man it's stressing me out.

A good rule of thumb is that 20% of customers or viewers will be a pain in the ass no matter what you do. However, charging a fair price for your work gives the impression that your art is valuable and helps scare off the cheapskates. Work on building an audience and brand that likes your art and style.

As for theft, there is sadly little you can do to prevent others from stealing your pictures and cropping your watermark, besides running reverse image searches regularly and filling dmca reports.

#the mailbag

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reignstormz · 3 years

Text

|ROMAN REIGNS & SASHA BANKS|

✨THE STORYLINE; SHORT STORY ✨

Warning; The edit above and some of the other edits apart of future chapters moving forward are made by me. I didn't find it necessary to put a watermark however I'd love credit if any of them are reposted. :)

|PART TWO|

November 27, 2020

TLC season was approaching, and the tension between Sasha and Carmella was getting stronger. Even though the blonde chick didn't make an appearance at survivor series, Sasha knew that she was around. Her energy grinded her gears so bad that Sasha could just feel her presences radiating through the building. If people honestly thought Carmella was going to get away with another low blow, then they truly didn't know the boss like they thought they did. Especially, after her encounter with the Universal Champion. A fire was lit inside of her that she couldn't put out.

As Sasha walked down the hallway with a calm, yet determined look on her face, the camera followed her every move and Kayla Braxton came up to her, making her stop.

"Sasha, can I have a word?" She asked hesitantly as she looked up at the blue haired woman. Sasha stared at her blankly before a faint smirk appeared slowly on her face, and she nodded. Kayla sensed something a little off about her, and contemplated on asking questions to begin with but did it anyway.

"It's been a week, or, to be exact, actually three in a row since Carmella has attacked you. Does this mean you have a target on your back regarding to your title?"

Sasha chuckled softly, very quietly in fact, moving half of her hair behind her shoulder and shook her head in amusement. Normally, Sasha would either laugh hysterically at the interviewer's questions or tell them off viscously, but tonight was different. She didn't have time for that like she used to.

Then, she simply looked back at her and shrugged, getting ready to walk away but Kayla quickly brought the microphone up to stop her, saying something that made Sasha stop in her tracks, "Is Roman Reigns one of your targets?"

Sasha looked down at the ground for a second until she looked ahead, licking her lips before she turned around to look at Kayla once again. Kayla stepped forward, bringing the microphone close enough to Sasha so she could speak into it, hoping anyway. Then Sasha's unreadable expression turned into a happier one, smiling at her nicely, "I guess you're going to have to find out.'

Kayla raised her eyebrow, slowly putting the microphone down to her side and watched her walk away in confusion. Sasha gave a subtle wink to the camera before the show went to commerical break. Afterwards, Sasha had finally found where Carmella had been in the building and saw the perfect opportunity to do what she's been wanting to do for the past three weeks. As Sasha quietly creeped up on her, she over heard Carmella talk a lot of shit about her, as expected. Saying how she was the most dominant woman in the Women's Division including other silly claims that went in one ear and out the other for Sasha. When Carmella was in her own world, talking to the camera, there was a random person who was prepared to hand her a glass of champagne.

Carmella payed zero attention and didn't realize that Sasha had knocked the poor guy out clean so she would be the one to hand her the champagne, revealing her boss ring and attacking her with no mercy. She held her as long as she could in the Bank Statement before she had to let go of her due to Adam Pearce and another backstage person ordering The Boss to let her go.

"Come and fight me next week, like a real woman." Sasha yelled with bass in her voice, and took some deep breaths to calm herself down from her adrenaline rush. The camera remained on her as she closed her eyes, trying to get a hold of her breath and she finally felt calm in an instant. As soon as she opened her eyes, a presence was standing before her to the left and she saw the handsome Samoan, holding her Women's title as he stared at her admiringly with a settle smirk on his face. Roman's thoughts were so loud that she could hear them, even though he wasn't talking. Some of them were sweet, a little sensuous, but the biggest thing is that he knew there was this inner tigeress inside of her that was slowly but surely coming out. He could see it in her eyes, and no one noticed but him, which made him want her by his side more than anything.

Sasha wasn't quite sure what was happening to her, something changed. She didn't feel like her natural cocky, confident self. Even if she was a bad guy, or good guy, or something in between, there was a sudden twist. A switch was clicking on and off, and ever since her last encounter with Roman, that's when it all started. She couldn't stop thinking about him, and he took control over her mind constantly. When she went to sleep, she saw him; Whenever she wakes up in the morning, or simply goes for a walk to clear her mind, he's there. However, she liked it. She liked the way he made her feel, and the feeling was mutual. The pair was extremely too dangerous to be together, but they didn't pay any attention to that idea.

Sasha grinned softly before making his way towards him. He handed the title to her and she took it into her hands slowly.

"That's my girl." Roman praised in a settle, yet proud tone. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and her grin turned into a shy smile as they walked off.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing, Graves?" Michael Cole asks in disbelief. Corey stays silent, watching the segment like everyone else.

They soon came across Paul watching the nearby television. Roman furrowed his eyebrows and Paul turned his head around, with a worried expression, "You might want to see this."

Roman gently took off his arm from Sasha's shoulder and crossed both of his arms in fustration as he watched the television. Jey was currently get his ass beat by Kevin Owens, which pissed off Roman to the fullest but made it kind of hard for Sasha to watch. She's always been really cool with Jey and Jimmy, so seeing one of the people she cared about get hurt was unsettling for her. However, what made Roman more pissed is what Kevin was telling Roman through the camera.

Things like, "You want people to fear you? I fear no one." Not only that, he sits at the head of the announce table to prove his point, saying, "Where are you? I'll be waiting." Initiating that Kevin was after Roman, potentially wanting to take his title.

Paul and Sasha briefly exchanged awkward looks and Roman looked down, inhaling sharply and stared at the ground in deep thought, then SmackDown went off air for the night.

December 4, 2020

Another Friday came by, and the first thing that was shown was a backstage shot of Roman's private locker room. Two seconds later, it opened revealing Paul walking out, then Jey, Roman, and Sasha was the last one to follow. She closed the door behind her, adjusting the title on her shoulder while Roman watched her in awe. Sasha looked up at him as she snaked her arm through his, holding onto it gently while he held his title on the other.

"You look gorgeous, baby." He complimented, before kissing her temple, causing Sasha to flourish with butterflies in her stomach.

"No way," Corey Graves said in a disapproving manner, watching the segment from the announce table.

"I guess the rumors are true." Michael Cole says in a shocked, but not too shocked tone.

Roman turned his head to Paul and Jey, signaling that they could go ahead and lead the way first. While they did, Sasha and Roman exchanged looks of admiration before they followed them to the ring.

After the commerical break, the show was back just in time for Roman's entrance. His music echoed throughout the entire Thunderdome as each of them walked out. He did his usual thing, savoring the moment, holding up the title, instead Sasha was by his side to do it with him, and she felt like she was on cloud nine. When they got to the ring, Roman assisted Sasha up the steel steps to make sure she didn't trip with the heels that she wore, but also just because he wanted to, he was a gentleman. He also made sure that she was always going to be the first one to enter the ring, and of course, Paul along with Jey had to wait until Roman went into the ring after her.

Kayla Braxton was in the ring to interview Roman, coicidentally after she interviewed Sasha last Friday. It was a little awkward at first, she didn't quite know how to approach Roman but it became even more uneasy as she began to ask him questions. Questions about Kevin Owens, Jey, and other things that started to make him a little upset. Sasha contemplated on stepping in, but she remembered that Roman had it handled. Besides, she didn't feel like being bombarded with a bunch a questions from Kayla again. He told her off after each question, until she reached her last one.

"Well, let's shift gears and talk about.. you're friend, Sasha Banks." Kayla suggests, making Roman slightly raise his eyebrow at her comment. Sasha's avoided glance at Kayla finally took a look in her direction, and immediately noticed the hint of shade in her voice. She knew exactly that they were more than that, but it was just to see if either of them were going to officially admit it or not. They played replays on the screen of Roman giving Sasha advice, to him watching her matches, joining forces at Survivor Series and what happened between them last week before Kayla asked, "So..are you possibly more than friends with The Boss? What is this?"

Sasha on the inside felt extremely pissed, and wanted nothing more to get in her face for over stepping her boundaries. She bit her lip harshly in anger and got ready to walk towards her but Jey quickly stopped her, putting a hand strongly on her side. Since her movement wasn't too noticeable, Paul widened her eyes and chuckled in amusement while Roman sighed, rolling his eyes. Kayla hesitantly brought the microphone closer to him and Roman looked down at her with a bored expression, "A friend?"

Kayla nodded slightly. Roman shook his head in annoyance, and Sasha stood in place, sighing briefly, looking down. She found no point in getting involved in the interview. Jey dropped his hand from her side, hoping that she wouldn't go anywhere as she stared at the ground in thought. Before Roman could reply, Kevin's theme music stared to play and he stormed out to the ring. Kayla nervously but slowly inched towards the corner of the ring as Jey, Paul, and Roman watched him. Sasha stood in her place, also annoyed but not threatened by him at all.

"You know last week, I made it clear that I don't fear you." Kevin says into the microphone while making his way down the ramp. The Head Of The Table's protective instincts kicked in and he put his strong, tattooed arm in front of Sasha, carefully moving her behind him as Kevin got closer to the ring.

"And since we've established that you don't fear me, I don't see the point of waiting later tonight. I figured, since you didn't come to me last week, I'll come to you now and we can settle this. Right here, right now." Kevin challenges, marching into the ring. Jey and Sasha exchange glances while Roman holds his hand out for Paul to hand the microphone. Jey quicky grabs it, getting involved again. Sasha facepalms her forehead in embarrassment as Paul and Roman stares at him in confusion, so does Kevin.

Kevin disregards Jey, and continues to talk to Roman, "If not now, how about at TLC? and let's not stop there, Roman. Put that title on the line, so you and I can handle this like men. What do you say?" Kevin asks, then his eyes fall onto Sasha, making him smirk a bit. Sasha glared at Kevin before he says, "Well look who we have here, when the hell did this happen? Are you afraid to get your ass kicked in front of your girlfriend?"

Roman's lip started to twitch in anger, the one thing that he wasn't going to tolerate was anyone threatening Sasha. Paul sensed that Roman needed to say something, so he grabbed the microphone out of Jey's hand and put it in his. Before he brought the microphone to his lips, Kevin suggests, "If not, then we can handle this right now."

Kevin dropped the microphone, putting himself into a fighting stance. Sasha scoffed, resting her right hand on her hip while Roman chuckled in amusement, knowing that he wasn't going to give him the time of day.

"I bet that's what you want, huh?" Roman continues, "To fight me right now? You being on the island of relevancy is the best thing that's ever going to happen to you. But, understand this, I train my cousin well and we don't back down to no one. Neither does she." He regards to Sasha. Sasha looked at Roman as he stared at Kevin intensely, "Don't you ever, mention her again." He warns.

Sasha faintly smiles at him, finding it sweet how serious he was about defending her. She adjusts the title on her shoulder, and then looks back at Kevin.

"You're lucky, if I was the man I used to be, I would whoop your ass right now. But there's a time and a place for everything. What do I look like, a savage?" He questions with a confused look on his face, "I'm a gentleman, we have ladies in the ring."

Roman licks his lips and nods his head to Sasha and Kayla standing behind him. Kayla has a lost expression on her face, meanwhile Sasha couldn't hold back her smirk. Jey and Paul laugh, looking at Kevin like he was a fool.

"Grow up." Roman snickered, tossing the microphone to the ground. He put his hand on Sasha's lower back, insisting her to exit the ring first while he followed. Kevin stood there in fustration, watching them leave the ring in silence.

After the commerical break, it was time for Roman and Jey's match against Kevin and Otis. Sometime before that, Sasha had a battle of words with Carmella while Roman remained by her side through the entire thing. It got very heated; Carmella claimed multiple times that she was better than Sasha with half the work, while of course Sasha begged to differ. She was no where near in her league, and she was going to make sure of that when she defends her title against her at TLC. However, Carmella's jabs did get under Sasha's skin a little bit, especially when she mentioned Roman, saying that if Sasha wasn't Champion than he probably would've ended up with her. Of course, Roman reassured that what she said wasn't true at all and reminded Sasha to not let someone like Carmella get the best of her. She wasn't worth it, and she was lucky to even be considered for a title match.

Since Jey had to suffer the consequence of getting involved earlier tonight, Roman decided to show up a little late to the match. Not only to teach him a lesson, but he did what he wanted to do on his own time anyways. There was also another consequence coming, little did Jey know, including Sasha and Paul. They both followed closely behind Roman as all of three of them made their way down the ramp, hearing the programmed boos echo throughout the crowd. Sasha saw Jey nod his head in reassurance, showing relief that Roman had showed up and not left him in the dust. Once they made it to the ring, as Roman walked up the steps, he handed his universal title to her. Sasha laid her women's championship on her left shoulder, while laying his title on her right.

Roman held his hand out for Jey to tag, but after awhile, he lost his patience and jumped into the ring himself. The referee tried to stop him but it was too late before he had superman punched Otis off the ring. He then slid out the ring, and began demolishing Otis; Then he started to beat the hell out of him with the steps. Paul stood there with a scared, appalled expression while Sasha stood next to him with an evil smirk on her face, licking her lips slowly afterwards as he watched him at work. Sasha's look of proudness quickly went away when Kevin Owens attacked him from behind.

She inhaled sharply, seeing everything go down until Jey lunged from the ring and put a stop to it. The Boss cracked a small smile so it wasn't noticeable. Even though Sasha cared for Roman deeply, she still had a soft spot for Jey. Trust, she enjoyed it when Roman beat the hell out of his opponents and looked damn good while doing it, however, Jey was different.

Long story short, everyone ended back into the ring and Kevin was in control for a little bit before Roman delivered a huge close line, taking him down. After that, he tagged Jey in and he took over. Jey was doing a good job and as Kevin was in the corner, Roman took this as the opportunity to taunt him. The referee warned him to stay back and Sasha furrowed her eyebrows at him while Paul told the ref to keep his distance.

"Don't tell him what to do!" She warns the ref along with Paul. Not too long after that, Jey does his Uso chant before running to Kevin but then failed, missing him completely. Kevin got right up, ran all the way to the corner and ran back, doing a harsh forward roll onto Jey. Paul cringed, Sasha shook her head in disappointment while Roman face palmed his forehead in embarrassment. Sasha actually tried her hardest not to laugh at his reaction, she quickly wiped the small smile off of her face.

"Get up," Roman demanded. Jey tried his best to make a comeback but he continued to get beaten up, frustrating Roman to the fullest when Kevin was so close to getting the pin. As Kevin tried standing up, himself and Roman made eye contact; Kevin tried to rile Roman up, but it didn't work seeing that Roman had shook it off with a laugh, shooing him off. Sasha stared up at him in awe, admiring his beauty. She loved it whenever he did that smug smile of his, it was so sexy to her. She snapped out of it once again, pulling herself together.

Jey got the opportunity to nail Kevin with an elbow to the face but out of nowhere, Kevin picked Jey up and did the Samoan drop. Sasha's lip curled up a little in anger, and she looked at Roman to see him pissed off as well due to the disrespect. Kevin got up and taunted Roman again, "What now, huh? Get in the ring!" He yelled intensely, and Roman didn't hesitate to do so even though he was stopped by the ref, again. Jey turned him around, Kevin elbowed him off but then as soon as he turned back around Roman smacked the taste out of his mouth. Then right after that, Jey delivered a super kick to his face.

When Roman stepped out of the ring, Jey got the opportunity to hopefully win the match for them. He prepared himself to get on the top rope, but right when he's about to take off, Roman orders him to get down.

"Get down," He barks. "Get down and tag out, this is my show, I finish the show. Get down."

Jey's confidence begins to fade once again as Roman disapproves of his actions for the hundredth time. Sasha looks down at the ground, trying to make sure her bothered facial expression wasn't noticeable as Jey comes down from the top rope. He grabs some of Kevin's hair and leans towards Roman to tag but Kevin brushes Jey off, then punches Roman in the face, knocking him off of the ring next to her. Before she could even blink, he slid back into the ring so fast, breaking the pin Kevin had on Jey.

Roman gave a harsh punch to his head before wrapping himself around Kevin's body, locking in his submission move. The bell was rung countless times to stop the match, but he didn't care, he was determined to take his last breath and make him pay. Sasha bit her lip, admiring the sight, feeling satisfied while resting her arms on the edge of ring floor. Paul side eyed her a little, and stepped away from her slowly, feeling a little disturbed about her enjoyment.

Roman let go of him, stared at his helpless body for about ten seconds before he ordered Jey to get chairs. The ref pleaded for him to stop, but got chased out like always. Sasha giggled from amusement from how fast the ref left the ring as Jey finally came back with chairs. Jey handed a chair to Roman, and they wasted no time in taking turns slamming the chair onto his back.

The sounds of Kevin's pained screams were on ten and Paul was stunned, covering his mouth, "Oh my God!" He said in shock, over and over again while Sasha stood there perfectly still, quiet with an evil grin on her face.

"Finish him," Roman said very beastly, "Make him understand!"

Jey hit him with the chair one last time before, putting the chair on him and doing his frog splash. Paul yelled, "Oh my God!" once again, covering his eyes slightly, not believing what he saw. Sash cringed, feeling Jey's pain, She knew that frog splash had to hurt. Out of nowhere, when they least expected it, Roman slammed the chair onto Jey's back. Sasha stood there, frozen in shock; She was expressionless, unsure of what to say or do.

"What do I tell you everytime, huh?!" He yelled out in fustration, slamming the chair against him again. "I have to keep repeating myself!"

The chair slams against him again, and again, and again. Each time, pieces of her heart started to shatter for Jey. She wanted to put a stop to it, but she couldn't. While Paul's mouth was covered, they both made brief eye contact in fright. Jey and Kevin were both out cold on the ground as Roman stared them down.

Roman then grabbed Jey's hair, dragging him a little to lay next to Kevin. After that, called my name, asking for his title. Sasha slid his title off of her shoulder and handed it to him, refusing to make eye contact with him because he would see the guilt in her eyes. He took the title and walked back to Kevin, dropping it on his chest and taking a handful of his beard roughly.

"You tryna' split me and my family up? Huh?! You wanted my attention?" He yelled at the top of his lungs, he looked around for a little bit before looking back down at him, "Now, we have the whole world watching. Now, they all have your attention." He punched his face in the middle of his sentence, "You're tryna' take me from the top? You're tryna' take my position, you want this title? You should've just took the title. You should of just took the title but instead you wanted to attack me and my family. You wanted to try and make me something that I'm not and make me look like a monster in front of the whole world." Roman voice shakes with anger, gripping the hell out of Kevin's beard. He inhales sharply as she watched, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

"This is only the beginning, and until you see that, I'm gonna take your manhood, I'm gonna take your lively hood and everything that you love," He promises sternly. "You and your family are going to fear me. Get use to this." Then he harshly let's go of his head, and stands back up, grabbing his title. He stands in the middle of the ring in thought for a little bit before he turned his head, making eye contact with Sasha. He stared, practically burning a hole right through her.

She stared right back at him refusing to break the eye contact or show him the fear she had deep down. Roman adjusted the title on his shoulder, and brought his hand up along with his finger, doing the "come here" motion. She stood there for a second, trying to find feeling her feet after being frozen for so long and then Sasha began to make her way to him. She handed her title to Paul, having him hold it. Since she was in heels, Sasha slowly walked up the stairs so she wouldn't fall, and thankfully Roman walked to the corner of the ring to reach out and grab her hand to assist her. He sat on the rope so she could enter the ring easily, and they were finally in the ring together.

His hand was on the small of her back as he guided Sasha gently to Kevin and Jey who were still knocked out on the ground. He bent down to the left, grabbing the chair, then got back up, handing the chair to her while she looked at Jey in pain, and it killed her inside.

"Make him understand.." He mumbled into her ear in his deep, seductive voice, but also loud enough so the cameras could hear. She clenched onto the chair, hoping that he meant Kevin but lost all of her hope when he continued to talk, "Make Jey understand never to disobey your chief, ever again."

His hand caressed the side her waist until he slowly let go of Sasha, taking a couple steps back in order to watch. She bit the inside of her cheek, holding back her tears as best as she could meanwhile her hands were shaking like an earthquake. She turned her head to look at Roman, and he nodded his head in reassurance, wanting her to do it. Sasha looked back at Jey, and a tear rolled down her face.

"I'm sorry, Jey." She says quietly, before she raises the chair and slam it onto his back harshly. Jey screamed out in agony, and rolled over. Another tear rolled down her face, and she paused, but then the switch suddenly flipped back on inside of her and her frown slowly turned into a dark smile, while a giggle escaped her lips. She lifted the chair up once more, and began to beat him up with the chair repeatedly.

One, two, three, four, five, six. She took a small break, sighing with a lazy smirk on her face before hitting him with the chair one last time. She laughed hysterically in her signature evil tone before tossing the chair away. The tears that were on her face were still evident, so she wiped them off slowly, flicking them away. She walked backwards to the rope and held her hand out, signaling for Paul to hand over her title, and he did; Meanwhile, when Sasha looked over at Roman, he just stood there with his evil smug of a smile on his face.

He walked over to her, sliding his title off of his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist. She looked up at him as he looked down at her, the chemistry they had was bouncing off of the walls and the dangerous feeling they had for each other grew stronger. It couldn't get any more crazier than this.

Roman kissed her forehead, then they both looked at the camera, and raised their titles together.

"What on earth has Roman done to Sasha Banks?" Corey graves asks, with a hint of fear in his voice as well. Michael Cole briefly looked at him with a bewildered expression. The vibe in the room was completely unexplainable, and even though the programmed boos were roaring, the look on everyone's faces on the screens were priceless. Everyone was so caught off guard by what they just saw, and had zero words. No one, absolutely no one saw this side of the blueprint. It was unlike anything anyone had ever seen before, and it was extremely bizarre.

After a long pause of silence, SmackDown went off air.

December 11, 2020

As Sasha walked down the hallway of the SmackDown halls, just about all of the men's and women's roster were in groups and huddles whispering, watching her walk by in silence. She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, and looked down, avoiding the glances she was receiving. It had been a rough week for the standard ever since last Friday, and nothing has been the same since. Sasha felt so confused, and extremely guilty about the events that had taken place. Everyone on social media, including people who were present in her life couldn't stop talking about the brutal attack she made on Jey. She refused to look at any replays of the incident, because she couldn't believe what she had done. Sasha had no idea who that woman was last Friday, and had zero idea what has gotten into her. It made no sense to the women's champion at all and she felt so lost. She put on a brave face in front of Roman ever since then and pretended like she was okay with everything, when really she wasn't.

Roman had actually been looking everywhere for her tonight, normally it would've taken a whole army to tear them apart from each other's side but Sasha needed time to collect her thoughts on her own. Besides, she had to hurry and do a contract signing with Carmella.

"Sasha, do you have a moment?" A reporter lady, who Sasha wasn't quite sure what her name was said. She sighed heavily, stopping in her tracks, letting her go ahead without saying a word.

"Um.." The reporter trailed off and pointed to the nearby television screen, "Do you care to explain your reasoning for what happened last week?" Then, television started to play replays of the attack Roman did to Jey and Kevin, and Sasha joining in, attacking Jey. Sasha looked down, feeling ashamed and the replay finished. The reporter slowly brought up the microphone to her, awaiting a response.

She lifted her head back up, and exhaled, "Listen, I gotta' go." Sasha pushed the microphone out of her face and kept walking forward until she reached the ring. She tried her best to pull herself together as she did her entrance and entered the ring, the one thing that she couldn't let happen is let Carmella see her when she felt down. Sasha refused, and she was ready to get this contract signing over with. Adam Pearce was in the ring as well, and Sasha sat down in the seat provided.

"Sasha. Last week after what it felt like a very personal war of words between you and Carmella, you issued a very confident challenge to face her at the TLC pay-per-view for that SmackDown Women's Championship. This contract signing will in fact make that match official." Adam informs, placing the contract on the table. As he continues to ramble on, Sasha wastes no time in opening it, however, there was no contract in the case. Her patience was extremely low and had zero time in playing any games.

"What the hell is this?" She pointed at the missing contract with fustration in her voice, "Are you kidding me? Is this a set up?"

Adam had no idea what was going on and also didn't know that the contract was missing. He tried his best to calm her down but it didn't work, she was upset. As Sasha continued to go off, Carmella's sneaky laugh lingered from the big screen, causing Sasha and Adam to look up.

"Looking for this, honey?" Carmella waves the contract in her hand, making Sasha's blood boil, "Sasha, don't you know by now that I make the rules, and you follow them. Don't worry though, I did sign the contract and I'll have it hand delivered to you by my somalia."

The camera backed up a little bit, revealing a dark skinned man with dreads, wearing a blue tux. Sasha rolled her eyes, watching the two of them.

"Will you take this to little miss, pretty pants over there?" She asks him nicely and he nods, taking the contract and shortly made his way over to her.

"You know, I should've know that you've been up to your dirty little tricks." Sasha says into the microphone, speaking to Carmella, "Aren't you embarrassed being you, Carmella?" She shades, looking at her with irritation.

"I'm not embarrassed at all," Carmella shrugs. "I'm proud of who I am, did you seriously think I was going to get in the ring with you tonight? After what you did to Jey Uso last week?" She scoffs. Sasha bits her lip harshly, and looks down in fustration. Then Carmella chuckles.

"Even when you try to put on this whole Boss persona and pretend like you're better than everyone else, you're not. Not even your boy toy, can do anything about that. I mean, come on, out of all people, he chooses you?" Carmella tilts her head, crossing her arms. Sasha stares at her through the screen intensely as she continues, "I'm the hot chick, I play the games, I'm playing the game of chess with your life, and I'm always four moves ahead."

Sasha felt so extremely angry that she couldn't even think straight. She didn't even realize that Carmella's Samolia made it into the ring, handing the contract Adam. Sasha's attention slowly faded over to the two of them, and Adam hesitantly put it in front of Sasha, knowing that she was pissed off. Sasha cracked a small, heated smile as she opened up the contract, stamping her name on it, making the match official. As Carmella complained to Adam how ridiculous Sasha was being in the background, Sasha completely snapped and took her anger out on Carmella's Samolia.

Adam didn't feel the need to stop her or else he knew he most likely would've gotten his ass beat too. Sasha delivered a harsh back-breaker to the Samolia, shoving the table onto him, making Carmella instantly silent and she stared at Sasha in amusement. Sasha grabbed the microphone off of the ground, putting it to her mouth, "You wanna' play games? Then you got it. Me and you, main event, tonight, for the title." She spat, throwing the microphone onto the ring floor and exited the ring, holding her title in her left hand.

After the commerical break and a couple of matches later on from other superstars, a segment showed Sasha getting ready for match with Carmella in her locker room. She was in her ring gear, and her Championship sat next to her. Sasha sat down on the couch in deep thought, and heard footsteps approach her. She looked up to see Roman with a concerned look on his face, this time he was alone. Normally, no one had natural access to her room, but he was an exception.

"We need to talk." Roman said, sending chills through her spine. Sasha sighed slightly, and got up from her seat, crossing her arms, avoiding eye contact with him. They were very close to each other, and Roman could sense the secretive energy bouncing off of her. Something was wrong.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." Roman starts, which says a lot because the head of the table never went out of his way to do such a thing like he did for her. "You haven't returned my calls or texts all night, how come you didn't tell me you had a contract signing tonight? I would've been there with you."

Sasha looked up at him, scanning his handsome face and briefly looked away at times to maintain her emotions. Roman sighed, and shook his head, knowing that she was most likely not going to answer.

"Why would you challenge Carmella for your title?" He questions in confusion, then his look falls to the floor, "And who was that guy out there?"

"No one important, okay?" Sasha quickly reassured, with a hint of impatience in her voice. Roman stared at her unconvinced as she picked up her title, getting ready to leave but he stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

"We're not finished." He warns, but with a soften face, "You can't do this."

Sasha sighed, looking down for a little bit before sliding her Championship on her shoulder. She didn't say anything but simply kiss his cheek, and caress it shortly before brushing past his shoulder lightly, walking out of the locker room. The camera shot closely on Roman's disappointed, yet worried facial expression before the show went to break.

When the show came back on, Kevin stormed backstage to find Roman. Due to the fustration that Roman felt after his conversation with Sasha, it was the icing on the cake due to the build up between him and Kevin. He had no choice but to take the opportunity but attack him backstage, and send a message to his family afterwards, a very threatening message. Roman felt no mercy whatsoever, but someone who he could not get off of his mind was Sasha.

Sasha was currently in a brutal title match against Carmella. There were moments in the match were she was so close to winning, but Carmella still somehow pulled through, especially when her sidekick came out and tried to distract her. After that, Sasha immediately saw red and attacked her, causing her to lose the match due to disqualification. The Somalia tried to pull her off, but as soon as she turned around, Roman appeared in the ring and speared him harshly, catching Sasha off guard. As Roman continued to attack Carmella's Somalia with blows to the head, Carmella took the opportunity to smash a champagne bottle to her back, causing her to scream out loud in pain.

Everyone at the announce table gasped and Roman quickly stopped beating Carmella's sidekick's ass to turn around and see her laid out on the ring floor. Carmella and Roman caught each other's eyes, he stared at her in a despising way while she smirked at him, wanting to jump his bones but decided not to. She slid out of the ring, making her way up the ramp as her Somalia limped, following her. Then, as Roman's angry stare stayed fixated on her, a bunch of referees came into the ring checking if Sasha was alright. Roman turned around and gave them a stern look, pushing one of them away, "Get your fucking hands off of her, go." He ordered loudly, causing all of them to leave the ring.

Roman bent down to her level, and saw a trickle of blood running down her back. He immediately took off his shirt, placing it on her wound. Sasha winced in pain, burying her face into the ring floor, not wanting to show her face from the embarrassment she felt.

"It's okay, babygirl. I got you." Roman whispered to her, wasting no time in picking her up from the ground, carrying her bridal style as he left the ring. As Roman walked up the ramp holding her, the big screen showed a beat up Kevin Owens, sitting down in a steel chair, holding an ice pack on his arm. Kevin looked at the camera angrily, and Roman sighed in defeat, wanting him to give up already.

"We're not done, Roman." Kevin carefully states in a shaky voice, "Watch your back."

Before the show went off air, it showed one last camera shot of Roman, staring at the screen for a couple of seconds before looking down at the beautiful woman in his arms, causing his face to soften. He hated whenever she was in pain, and the head of the table was never the type of person to be scared, but he was honestly scared about what was going through Sasha's mind, and how they were going to move forward.

➰

Tags; @haharollins @toothlesstim @sassymox @reignsbanks @wwzentertainment @darksinandmadness @reignsprint @nianotjax @cptcharisma @grandslamstandard @likesummerrainn @brookethegamer @notoriouscrown @flawlessglamazon @roderickstrong @serenityfiretrash @thandiwethagirl @zaddyreigns @kingbarrett @nathog97

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nidera · 4 years

Photo

!!IF U ARE LOOKING FOR “MENHERA”, “WEBCORE” OR “ANIMECORE” TAGGED MASKS ON ALIEXPRESS PLEASE DONT BUY THIS!! ART THEFT WARNING

hi im a small trans (nb) disabled artist named vibri. ive been heartbroken the past few months because that mask pic was my only edits i ever really felt proud of and was 100% my own content sampled and it was stolen and mass produced. it may not look it from a glance but its the worst piece they could have taken as it was trauma vent art about the death of a loved one. @_@ it was the first photo i took/ art i made when the most important person in the world to me died and its dedicated to her. they blurred out my redbubble watermark and that garage kit/figure is the most beloved precious figure to me ive ever owned and is one of a kind because shes handpainted. :/ im almost flattered and feel less like a “fake” artist now that a large chinese manufacturer is mass producing my very personal vent art but if you see this on aliexpress, alibaba, wish or taobao ect please dont buy it!! this specific shop took their listing down after i contacted them last month but they werent the manufacturer so it may be floating around.

my phone i made this entire edit and photo in also shattered because i dropped it from a small distance by accident while rushing to a dentist appointment the same day i was sent a screenshot of my stolen art on aliexpress. and i was told by the apple staff it cant be fixed but i cant afford to replace it or even basics right now. i couldnt even afford to have a sim card but because im autistic it was my comfort object because what motivated me to keep living was taking photos of my cat and hobby collections for fun every day [the photos arent for pity i just feel ill be ostracized more than usual if i ask for small donations without receipts ]

im on the waiting list for 3 separate surgeries for health emergencies related to chronic illnesses i suffer and was diagnosed with having a possibly infected kidney stone blockage last night in the ER (or possibly appendicitis but a stone sounded more likely) so im barely living on any money this year even with a semi-regular disability pension. this post is very half assed due to the pain from that and am still getting blood loss and i havent managed to pass the stone without surgery yet

nurses said ive had the stone for a couple of months but probably pushed myself too hard instead of going to the ER sooner

i make edits like this purely for the love of doing it not money or clout so please dont feel pressured to buy anything but!! if you wanna get a sticker or something to help out my shop is here!

the real mask is here

( redbubble masks seem a bit overpriced though but theyre still cheaper than the aliexpress bootleg stolen ones lol)

i love aliexpress a lot but it is full of art stolen from small artists so please be wary of theft! im probably not the only one being ripped off especially when it comes to masks and stickers. im not an expert by any means but if youre into jfashion and want to avoid buying overpriced replicas of japanese brands, probably easier to stick to accessories and wigs or socks unless its from a reputable taobao indie brand. its actually cheaper and higher quality in a lot of cases to buy the original piece secondhand using proxy services with menhera, yumekawa or fairykei style fashion

#art theft #disabled artist #menhera #webcore #animecore #akibacore #glitchcore #lgbt donations #signal boost #menhera fashion #aliexpress #the pic doesnt rly capture those aesthetics except my made up one... akibacore but the thieves put them in the title so???

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queenofthenyx · 3 years

Text

So, we all agree Sailor Moon is a big time gamer girl right?

Like, she collects the gaming manuals and the character figurines. Plays mostly PC and stans Nintendo and leans into the retro games pretty hard. And all her gaming accontrement matches the pink cat ear headphones. On an average day you'll find her in a cute dress, but it's highlighted by the glow of a computer screen and hitched up near ro her hips because "it's just comfortable that way Mamo-chan! I don't know why!"

Often because she's pretty. Because she's blonde. Because she's easily distracted. Because she dresses cute. People (men and teenage boys) think she's a fake gamer girl.

And. Oh. OH. Fourth best to cuddling with her boyfriend and cat simultaneously, kicking ass and spreading justice with her squad, or beating a high score at the local arcade (all tied for first) is making gamer boys suck it.

Cons have been flooded with the frustrated tears she's induced. She's caused riots that she flounces away from like a sprite on a moonbeam. Once, with Mamo-chan's help, she convinced a guy with deep pockets and shallow brain matter to buy her a glittery pink Nintendo switch. Because it was so pretty! And she was so sad! Her boyfriend just broke-up with her in front of everyone! How sweet and how vulnerable and how grateful she was that he had appeared to save her and show her around!!

Ten seconds after the purchase was completed and Usagi had the bag on hand, Mamo-Chan had circled back and asked casually if she wanted to get back together.

Today's Con proved no less productive.

As often happened, vendors took Mamo-chan for the gamer and Usagi as his cute little girlfriend. Half of that is true. Usagi was big enough to admit she was damn adorable. Usually it worked in their favor. Usagi got to view the merch without having someone trying to convince her to buy and Mamo-chan got to practice his calm bedside manner on people who clearly wanted the attention.

Sometime before lunch a vendor caught her ire. Hanger might have been a component. Cons were long and tiring and she'd run out of the trail mix Mamo-chan had packed for her two hours ago. (Okay, she'd picked out the last of the chocolate and dried fruit pieces. Leaving the disgusting nuts to be tossed away later.)

"Aw, you're a such a great girl for letting your boyfriend drag you around a Con."

Usagi is a great girl. The best girl. The many people she saves on the regular all agree. But coming from a grown man with a greasy ponytail and an MLP t-shirt depicting Rainbow Dash hog-tied by Apple Jack? Gross.

"I'm dragging him around actually. And yes. He is great."

"Oh!" For a brief, naive moment, Usagi takes the surprised smile as a sign that the guy isn't as terrible as originally thought. Oh how badly good things end. "Well, I hope he's showing you all the good stuff!"

How is it that an evil space queen can hear her from across an entire artic shelf, but this guy can't hear from two feet away?

Usagi shoots Mamo-chan a look that tells him that she's about to drag him into some shit. His responding look asks her to make it short. He's hungry too.

"Mamo-chan, how about you tell him what you thought the difference is between play station and x-box?"

"He'll laugh. They always laugh."

"Because it's hilarious. Now tell him."

Mamo-chan sighs. He'll do it. Because he loves his reincarnated-goddess-girlfriend-soulmate. so. goddamn. much. That and the glint in her eyes says she's two seconds away from moon-smiting the guy. And he is not down to hear her excuses of, "he was clearly evil! He was sucking all the joy out of the room! And those prices!" all afternoon.

"I thought the play station was the store where you bought x-boxes."

The man indeed laughs, an awkward chuckle that indicates the implosion going on to his world-view.

"It. It's okay man, everyone's gotta start off somewhere!"

A response Usagi knows she wouldn't have received to admitting the same mistake. Mamo-chan makes a grab for her purse before she can reach for her wand. Smart.

"His best friend literally owns an arcade and he thought a joy-stick was a type of popsicle! I asked him once to disconnect my controller and he took the batteries out of the tv remote! We play Smash Bros and he picks Little Mac! You have the audacity to think he's showing me, ME around? When you're selling stolen art prints for a 200% mark-up, which I can tell because of the damn watermark you forgot to clean up! At least he's-" she points very proudly to her boyfriend "-going to be a doctor! He's going to contribute to society! You're a talentless worm surviving off the insecurities and discomfort of people who- Hey! Mamo-chan! Put me down! I was just getting started!!"

Her boyfriend heaves her over his shoulder. With a pout she resigns to her fate and parts with the vendor with a glare.

Mamo-chan buys her a milkshake and french fries. After a few sips and half the fries disappear the world feels a whole lot better.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you sound dumb. You know besides Ami, you're the smartest person I know."

He smiles at her, soft and understanding and she feels incredibly lucky. "I know. After we're done eating we can go back and you can keep yelling at him if you want."

"Really?!"

He nods and Usagi nearly sends her milkshake to the floor to lunge across the table to kiss him.

#sailor moon #mamoru x usagi #gaming #gamer #gamer girl

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kutemouse · 4 years

Text

Buzzed

Disclaimers: I made and edited the gif above (I know it’s not that good but w/e lol). That’s why I’ve posted this under the #btsgif tag. Feel free to use however you like, just please give me credit for the edit. Thanks 💜

I did not create the gorgeous edits in my header, but I did edit them together into the frames, add my title, and my name. Credit for these amazing edits (from left to right) go to @jixio, @yeonkiminsgirl, and @kookbite. I did not touch their edits in any way, and their watermarks are intact. Please check them out, they do great work.

Age Recommendation: 21+

Genre: Bartender AU w/ Jungkook, Angst, Smut

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, swears, JK being the sexy, manly man that he is, very soft dom JK, making out, angsty feels

Word Count: 1,847

Damn, why is JK so fucking sexy? C;

You can find the original request here. They used my Prompt List:

Angst #26 He/she/person is hot, but evil.

Smut #46 Awww, you’re playing hard-to-get. That’s cute.

Smut #56 I’m gonna fuck you so good you won’t even remember that asshole’s name.

So I kind of took this and ran with it… enjoy C; Part 2 (with smut) coming soon!

Preview: Damn. This bartender might be hot, but he was evil. We sat in silence for a moment before Jungkook took my hand, startling me. I looked up into his large, dark eyes, his expression earnest, his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Look, I know we just met, but… Can I drive you home tonight? I don’t think you should be alone.”

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

I rested my cheek on my hand, taking another swig from the beer bottle in my other hand only to find it empty. “Hey, can I get another?” I asked, trying to keep my words from slurring together.

The bartender glanced at me as he filled a shot glass. “You okay over there, sweetheart?”

I nodded slowly before resting my head on the bar counter, looking up at him through the strands of hair that had flopped over my eyes. “‘M fine, whadda mean?”

He chuckled, striding over as I sat up, setting a glass full of liquid in front of me. It was clear, but it wasn’t in a shot glass. It was in a tall one with ice in the middle. “What’s this?” I asked, sitting up.

“Water.”

I grimaced. “This isn’t what I ordered.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m cutting you off. You’re done for tonight.”

“The fuck?” I muttered. He tossed a smirk at me that made my insides flutter. Damn this bartender. He was extremely good-looking, with raven-black hair parted down the right side of his head, shiny from a bit of gel. His white shirt stretched over his toned torso, and his tight, dark jeans left almost nothing to the imagination. And if that wasn’t enough, he had lips that were a perfect shade of pink, his top lip half the size of his bottom lip, coming together in the middle to form the most perfect cupid’s bow I’d ever seen.

I blinked, shaking myself out of my stupor. “The fuck?” I said even louder. “Where do you get off?”

“Lower your voice, sweetheart,” he said, pointing to the glass. “And drink up.”

I reluctantly obeyed, wincing as I the cold drink hit the back of my throat. I downed the water in one go. “Can I have another beer now?” I asked.

“Nope.”

Damn. This bartender might be hot, but he was evil.

“Fine,” I muttered, leaning my head against my cheek once more.

I watched as he served the rest of his customers, biting my lip every time his muscles shuddered whenever he picked up a glass or pulled on the handle of the beer tap. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I got dumped, what, only two hours ago, and I was already checking out another guy? Shit, I was pathetic.

That was nothing new, though. Just last week my best friend had told me she thought I had issues with being alone. Apparently that’s why I decided to stay with my asshole boyfriend even though I knew damn well he was fucking my other so-called best friend behind my back.

Once he finished serving everyone else, the bartender walked back over to me and refilled my water glass, setting it down in front of me before crossing his arms over the bar counter and leaning over it towards me. I flushed, not-so-subtly noticing the way his biceps flexed.

“So tell me, sweetheart,” he said. “Why are you here tonight?”

“No reason,” I mumbled.

“Uh-huh.”

“Just… needed a few drinks, y’know?”

He tilted his head, the black strands of his bangs falling into his eyes. “Sure. What’s your name?”

“None of your business.”

He chuckled. “Awwww, you’re playing hard-to-get. That’s cute.”

“Nothing cute about it,” I muttered, downing my second glass of water.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

I could feel the effects of the alcohol slowly ebbing away, and I sat up even more, feeling more coherent than I had all night. “Fine.”

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Y/n.”

“So… y/n. Wanna tell me the real reason why you’re here?” he asked, looking me up and down.

I sighed. “My boyfriend’s a jerk.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“He’s a cheating, lying bastard,” I replied matter-of-factly. “Hey, can I trouble you for another water?”

Jungkook grabbed my glass and filled it once more. “If he’s such a bastard, why are you still with him?”

“I’m not,” I said, gratefully taking the now full glass and taking a sip.

“So you dumped his ass?”

“No,” I sighed, slumping over. “That’s the sad part. I should’ve dumped him, should’ve made him feel bad for doing that to me… but I didn’t. I kept struggling with what to do, and before I could figure it out, he broke up with me.”

My voice cracked towards the end of my story, and Jungkook looked at me with concern in his large, dark eyes. His mouth had tightened as he listened, his large hands now gripping the edge of the bar so hard his knuckles turned white. “I hate cheaters,” he growled. “You know, it seems every week, I get someone in here, drinking themselves half to death, so wasted they don’t even know their own name… all because their significant other couldn’t be faithful.”

“I believe it,” I croaked, my throat thick. “People can be assholes.”

“Agreed.”

Jungkook sighed before leaning back. “Look, do you have anyone to take you home?” he asked. “So you don’t have to be alone tonight?”

I shook my head. “Nope. My two best friends are unfortunately out of commission. One is out of the town, and the other… Well, she was the one my boyfriend was fucking.”

Jungkook shook his head in disbelief. “Wow.”

“I know.”

We sat in silence for a moment before he took my hand, startling me. I looked up into his large, dark eyes, his expression earnest, his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Look, I know we just met, but… Can I drive you home tonight? I don’t think you should be alone.”

I hesitated before nodding. It was quite late, I did need a ride, and although he was a stranger, something about him seemed trustworthy.

(Author’s note: Please, for the love of god, don’t accept rides or get in cars with random strangers irl)

Jungkook glanced over his shoulder at the other customers, some of whom were starting to pack up and stumble drunkenly out into the street. “We close in fifteen, then I’ll need half an hour to clean up, is that okay?”

I nodded once more. Nearly an hour later, I found myself out in the parking lot, scuffing my shoes against the pavement as I waited for Jungkook. The bar’s lights flicked off, and he came out, wearing a black leather jacket and making sure to lock the doors securely behind him. He turned, a smile spreading over his lips when he saw me. “You’re still here.”

��I still need that ride.”

He chuckled as he pressed a button on a key fob, a black SUV lighting up as it unlocked. “You feeling sober yet?”

“Sure am, thanks to you,” I teased as we clambered into the car. He started the engine and drove down the streets, following my directions until we came to a stop in front of my apartment.

Jungkook shut the engine off then looked at me. “You sure you’ll be okay tonight?”

I swallowed, the lump in my throat returning. “Well, if I’m being honest, no, I’m not sure.”

He gripped the steering wheel. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” I said, swiping at a stray tear that had leaked out.

Jungkook unbuckled his seat belt and leaned towards me, tentatively reaching out a finger and caressing my cheek, wiping away a second tear. “You’re lying,” he murmured. “I think there is something I can do.”

He lunged towards me, crashing his lips into mine, surprising the fuck out of me. I shoved him back. “What the hell?!” I gasped.

Sitting there, with his large eyes staring at me, pupils blown beautifully wide, mouth parted as he held his breath, waiting for my next move, only three words came to mind. “Awww, fuck it.”

I took hold of his shirt collar and yanked him back towards me, pressing my lips feverishly to his. He shoved his tongue into my cavern, tasting it, exploring it, forcefully dominating my tongue with his in a way that brought my buzz flooding back, no alcohol needed. I began to push back, swirling my tongue around his before drawing back just enough to wrap my lips around the muscle and suck. Jungkook grunted and kissed my cheek, my jaw, then my neck, stopping to nip at the skin right where my neck and shoulder connected, drawing a loud moan out of me.

I clambered over to his seat, straddling him, and I could feel his hardening member even through both of our jeans as we continued our heated make-out session. Jungkook pulled back to once more kiss his way down my neck, and my senses came to as he started unbuttoning my shirt and mouthing at my cleavage. “Wait,” I panted. “We… We can’t do this.”

He groaned before leaning back in the seat. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just… I don’t know you, and I’m probably doing this just because I’m emotional, and I don’t want to be even more pathetic than I already am.”

Jungkook’s brow furrowed at my words. “You’re not pathetic,” he said. “You were hurt. You didn’t know what to do, that’s normal.”

I looked down at our laps, letting my hair fall around my face. “I was… I was weak,” I mumbled, my voice husky as my throat once again grew thick.

“No, you weren’t. So you don’t have some crazy revenge story… so you’re more careful in your decision-making than other people… so you took some time to figure out your next move… so what?” Jungkook said, lightly grasping my jaw and lifting my chin so we were looking at each other. I was surprised to see his wide, dark eyes so full of determination. “That doesn’t make you weak,” he growled. “That makes you rational and thoughtful… traits I like in a girl.”

A blush spread over my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. “Yeah, and that’s another thing,” I said. “I don’t want you to just be a one-night stand or a rebound fuck… If I’m gonna sleep with someone, I want it to be real.”

Jungkook leaned forward, our noses nearly touching, and I suddenly became very aware of the fact that I was still straddling him. He reached up and combed his hands through my hair, the strands falling between his fingers as I closed my eyes at his touch. “Who says this isn’t real?” he murmured. “You caught my eye the second you walked in my bar. We have a real connection, y/n. I don’t want you to be just a one-night stand, either.”

I didn’t know if what he was saying was true or not, but if I were to ever fall in love again, I knew that was going to be a risk I was going to have to take. I reached over Jungkook and pulled on the handle, popping open the car door and clambering off of him to the ground. I grabbed his hand, intertwining his fingers between mine. “Come on,” I said, nodding towards my apartment. “I have a bed up there that’s dying for some use.”

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Part Two coming soon!

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haleviyah · 4 years

Text

Do I have an art theif? Some advice would be awesome...

This is not okay, I don’t care how much you believe and love your Jesus with your everything (whatever that everything is), but when you stoop to a level where you make multiple accounts of myself (or my name per se) and try to act “holier than thou”. Bruh, you best be asking for own devices to kill you at this point, because this shit party you’re throwing is DEAD!

This about a girl I call “Trye” (because that’s the first fake name she gave me), and she (or it/bot) has a history of stealing my art, manipulating it and posting elsewhere. Recently I think she’s trying to make her own teachings to top mine. Jokes on her, because what my other half and I work on is STRICTLY Judaic in nature, and I mean straight up from Israel level of Judaic, not American. We don’t even favour Christianity at all, and we don’t condone attitudes such as lying or stealing like she does.

So I ask if anyone finds an account with my stuff and you don’t see it’s this cussing, hookah-smoking, wine-drinking, hell-and-heaven-questioning metalhead, report the accounts as “fake” it if you wish to. IF YOU WISH TO. I’m not asking you to do it... I’m just simply giving a heads up in case she gets any more ideas and she tries to push the envelope.

But regardless of this insanity, I would LOVE a second opinion about this situation because this just WEIRD: do you think it’s a bot I’m dealing with? Or is this - please, GOD FORBID - a real person who’s actually sick in their head. She hasn’t stolen any photos with my face on it, nor seems interested of any personal information such as my marriage, where I live, or who my family are and etc. However, what she has stolen is this:

- Abstract art.

- a few sketches of anything that reminds her of the Church Bride, Revaltions or the Rapture...

- Pictures of my character Selma (who represents the Body of Christ (Yeshua) and is married to Yeshua)

- Some Hebrew Calligraphy

She doesn’t seem interested in my depiction of Yeshua despite Him being on

EVERY

FUCKING

PAGE!!!!

Probably because He actually looks Jewish (for once), has ember coloured eyes and olive skin and not like what Akiane painted: white skin, Greco-looking and green eyes. (That’s a bit racist, but oh well...)

It’s just Selma she wants...

(my poor baby ; n ;... LEAVE MY BABY ALONE!!!)

She doesn’t even like any of the angels. Okay, Michael can be stubborn and too rational, so that’s understandable. Ezrael, scares the shit out of anyone because... he’s the Angel of Death. Cassiel, Duma, Leviel and everyone else... pretty likeable! But why just SELMA!! I thought you were hot for Jesus, Tyre, not some Egyptian-Jewish red-head.

But still, I have been dealing with her crazy ass since winter 2018, and so far I have chased her off Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, and DevianArt. Facebook is her last strong hold because I REFUSE to get a Facebook for myself (professionally speaking) nor for my series “Rose of Sharon”. I reserve my personal Facebook for family and friends in case they wanna catch up, but I keep it private as possible. I did watermark my material on DeviantArt, just for a side note, but she sneaked onto my RedBubble and took a piece and manipulated it (I was beyond pissed).

Again I ask, what is it I’m dealing with??? If it’s a bot, I’d be more than happy to drop the case. But her actions are too damn organic and specific to be a bot. I am PRAYING this is not a legit person doing this, otherwise I’d be concerned, not for me but mainly for her. Again I ask, if you see an account with obviously stolen pieces, report it as “fake” if you want, hit the copyright button, and message me to make sure it’s fake most of all... just, don’t confront her, she’ll only disappear or block you if you do. Thanks for letting me get this off my chest. And once again, any feedback would be appreciated.

Has anyone had likewise happen to them? Please let me know.

Be wise, and be safe guys!

P.S. if you want to laugh your ass off, she tried to spell “Haleviyah” in Hebrew for her old YouTube, but she did it wrong and it literally translates to this...

Yeah, I agree Google. I agree! Her masquerade is dead ...

But, I know how to spell my name... DUH!!!

(I’m not mad... I’m just flabbergasted...)

— Here’s a FIFTH of the evidence I have collected. Again, any thoughts, feel free to share...

This avatar is obviously not mine, and done through a phone app called PicsArt. I don’t like to brag but I do have a trained eye on which piece is obviously Photoshop or any Adobe medium (I’ve been introduced to a lot of their programs) and which is done on a phone-app such as PicsArt or just simple photo editing like Instagram. It’s not that hard to crop, cut and paste.

The first two pages on the next pic, I never permitted to exists, but I find it pretty chill Catholic’s like my gallery. (Sup, homies! Keep it real. Didn’t mean to make you cry though... ; n ;)

And finally these pages were all done by the same person... how do I know? Same home town in each one... I will refrain from saying where.

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peachywise · 5 years

Text

nullify part 4

an umbrella academy fanfiction // klaus hargreeves x reader

- part iv: the revealing file || part i ⋆ part ii ⋆ part iii ⋆ part v ⋆ part vi ⋆ more parts to be released

- synopsis: You had wanted to forget about the fire. Forget all of it. But then you were presented with a file on your life, given to you by a kid who knows all too well its contents. Looks like you were intertwined in something much bigger than you had ever expected all along, and you're only going to get intertwined even more.

- notes: so sorry this update took a while! i'm in my last few weeks of my university semester, and i'm busy with final essays. i'll try and get the next update out sometime next week but it could take a bit longer. however, I'll be back to a better and faster posting schedule in april. anyways this chapter is pretty five interaction heavy instead of Klaus, but i had to cut this one in half as it was getting too long, so they'll be more in the next part!! heavy trigger warning for mentions of abuse and fire.

link on a03

___________________________

“That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Letting out a loud scream at Five’s sudden appearance in front of you, surrounded in that ethereal blue haze, you decided he was the one being a dramatic little shit head. Even more so when he quickly went up on his toes and slapped his hand over your mouth to smother your voice before you could keep screaming and swear at him. You quickly jerked away, still reeling from the comment about the fire he had made only seconds before inside the apartment.

“Back the hell off or I’ll punt you down the hallway,” you threatened, flattening yourself against the wall beside the door, heart erratically pounding as you tried to calm your anxiety and the aggression fighting its way up.

“Calm down and just hear what I have to say.”

Calm down? Oh, he did not just fucking tell you to calm down.

“Hey hey hey, where are you going?” Klaus suddenly burst out from the now open apartment door, eyes flashing one side to the next until they landed on you. His taller figure stepped in front of you and he reached a hand out, placing it in a soothing gesture on your arm. His face was downturned in what looked like genuine concern. It was actually kind of nice of him, up until he said soothingly, “take a breather and calm down for a sec, yeah?”

You had to resist the unbelievable urge to stomp on his foot and then kick him in the nuts.

Closing your eyes and inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you whispered in reply so quietly through gritted teeth, “back away before I rip Five’s hand off and shove it up your—”

“Everything okay out here?”

Turning your attention to the large, blonde man taking up the entire frame of the doorway, you let out your held breath and opened your eyes. Five did as well, just as Klaus dropped his hand to his side, his eyes still never leaving you.

Your heart rate and initial anger had started to simmer down a bit at the continual tug and pull of the situations you kept finding yourself in, enough so that your curiosity of everything was starting to take hold once more. But you were still reluctant to step back into that apartment. Your trust was wary, at least in the case of some of them. Right now, you only trusted Klaus. He had been a loud and obnoxious pain in the ass, but hell, he hadn’t tried to hide anything from you and had basically answered most of what you assumed he could. If anything, he had overshared. You wished you could forget the story he had told you on your walk over here. He had way too vividly description how once on impulse he had bitten into a live koi fish he saw in a pond in order to ward off a loan shark across the way coming to collect money. What was worse, it actually worked. At least until they sent another guy a half an hour later.

“Go back inside, Luther. You to Klaus,” Five directed.

Turning your attention back to the toddler in command as he spoke, you quickly shifted your gaze back towards Klaus as he inevitably went to argue, stepping towards his brother with an exasperated look on his face. You reached out to gently grab his shirt. “Just go inside.” You needed to figure out how exactly Five knew about the fire, and just how extensively the details he knew went. It wasn’t exactly information you wanted out in the open, and though you trusted the curly haired brother the most in the family to an extent, it still wasn’t enough. No matter who you had trusted in your life, it had never been enough to openly discuss what had happened.

Klaus snapped his mouth closed in an uncertain grimace, his unnaturally comforting green eyes flickering as he tried to read your suddenly emotionless expression. You released some of the tension in your shoulders and heaved a breath. “Seriously, It’s fine. But if you hear glass shattering just know I’ve thrown him out the window.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Bending to the side to look at Five who stood directly behind Klaus, you raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Come here then, preppy.”

Five crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, glancing down the hall at nowhere in particular. Clearly, his patience was running thin. Good.

Luther didn’t even bother to stick around and watch the show, unlike the unmistakably entertained Klaus. He just wordlessly turned back around into the apartment, leaving the door wide open for Klaus to follow.

“Okay, fine. Just don’t tell them all the fun bits without us, brother dear. It’ll be too priceless to miss.” Klaus settled on saying, departing back into the apartment, flashing his cheeky grin as he did.

You turned towards Five once you heard the familiar click of the closed door, grabbing his arm as you tugged him further away from the door in case there were any eavesdroppers. “You shouldn’t know about the fire. The entire story didn’t even hit the news.”

He shrugged your grip away easily. “And who do you think covered it up?” He bit back, a pressing look in his eyes.

What exactly was he implying? The little dude was kind of freaky—less of a kid than what he looked like— but he would have been the exact same age as you when it happened. Ten. As capable as he seemed now, you highly doubted he could have been able to suppress what had happened in the media. Allison possibly could have with her powers, but even then, there were so many people coming and going throughout that morning that you would have caught sight of her. The Umbrella Academy wasn’t even in the same city as you, for Christ's sake.

“Are you implying that it was covered up, or that somehow you had something to do with it?”

You could have been wrong, but a sort of half satisfied tick tugged his lips up the tiniest bit. But instead of a reply, he vanished again in a blink of an eye. You were really starting to hate his power. Letting out an aggravated huff, you twisted around slightly as if somehow you would find him dramatically down the hall, but he was back in a literal flash in under ten seconds, except this time he had a file in hand. He handed it to you, stating, “I found this in Hargreeve’s office. Read for yourself.”

And with that little cryptic introduction, you gave a speculative glance before gently taking it into your own hands, slight hesitance overtaking you as you flipped it open.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

The first thing that caught your attention was a picture of you at twelve years old, miserable in an oversized black hoodie, paperclipped to a copy of one of the social service identification documents used by your old foster caseworker. Once you flipped that over, you found and skimmed through written reports, Reginald’s familiar insignia watermarked at the top. In them detailed everything; everything you knew, everything you had assumed, every plot hole in your entire story.

Reginald had known where you were this whole time. He’d kept a watchful eye on you, and you had no doubt he had similar files on all the other babies he had never been able to get his hand on. One of the reports detailed the first time your force field had popped up. You were in kindergarten and some kid had been chasing you with those barely sharp baby scissor that couldn't even cut through shitty quality construction paper. In your instinctual fear, the blue bubble surrounded you and five-year-old Jimmy bounced right off of it, tumbling two feet away, landing on his wrist and snapping the bone.

No one had seen, other than the teacher who had immediately looked terrified and sent you to the office, rushing you there herself. When she dropped you off, the counselor intervened and talked to you, and by the next day, your teacher had basically all but ignored the fact it had ever happened. The kid’s broken wrist was simply explained away as him tripping on the floor. No one would believe a five-year old’s account of what had actually happened anyway.

The councilor, as detailed by Hargreeves, was an onlooker hired by him to keep tabs on you if anything like this had ever happened and to make it go away. It seemed there had always been someone hired in your school to do just that. To watch. To report. Intervene when necessary.

Then there was the report on the fire. It described how your mom had gotten up in the middle of the night to go to your room, leaving your dad asleep in his own bed. It continued to detail how she poured gasoline from your doorway to your bed, striking a match and dropping it so the flame would trail up towards you. Police documented pictures were attached of your black and charred bedroom, all your childhood objects nothing more than undistinguishable ash. They never did find your dads body in there, but from how everything had been destroyed, you had no doubt he was simply mixed into all the rubble and debris that had once made up their entire family home which crumbled in a single, terrible night.

The police report detailed all of this as well, in addition to your mother’s capture and arrest, which he somehow managed to get a copy of for his invasive file. But it lacked the details Hargreeves inevitably figured out. How could a child survive such a destructive event? You had walked out with nothing more than a severe burn mark on your leg, while your father who tried to rescue you instead of getting out had literally been caught in the crossfire. They had interviewed you, but you kept quiet. But Reginald knew it was your force field. He wrote about how he paid off multiple people to cover this up and make it seem as if it had never happened. Not for your sake, however. It was just so you would never come across someone who wanted to use your powers against his children. Like Five, he speculated that the force field could extend far past what you had always thought. It could render all his ‘projects’ useless. And he couldn't have that.

You closed the file without looking at the other pictures and papers littered within it. You couldn’t stand to look at it anymore. It would have just detailed every other moment in your life like a statistical, emotionless biography.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Five spoke, breaking through your reeling thoughts. You tried to stop the bile rising to the back of your throat.

“Who else has seen this?” You whispered, clutching it tightly to your chest as you met his eyes.

“Just me, as far as I know.”

You nodded your head, taking a second the inhale and exhale and suppress it all as you had most of your life. You slipped the file into your bag, stating without room for argument, “I’m keeping this.”

He tilted his head in affirmation, replying, “I expected as much.” Quiet again, you took just a bit longer to try and collect your emotions, turning your face away to look anywhere except the kid who knew more about you than anyone else. It was unnerving. Even more so as he actually seemed at least a bit sincere when he continued with, “I am sorry. But what we need you for, it’s more than this. More than all of us. I had to look at every single option wherever I could, and right now, you’re that option.”

You could take some solace in that. Five, you had come to figure out, was all business. He had a scientific mind, looking at everything as steps to get to a singular goal. He wouldn’t do anything malicious or invasive for fun. Well, at least he wouldn’t unless it got him to whatever goal he had in mind.

“You keep this to yourself, and I’ll listen to whatever plan you have in mind.”

Maybe you would regret it, maybe you wouldn’t. But the Hargreeve’s were clearly desperate for something—for help. You could respect that.

“I also won’t toss you out the window no matter what it is.”

That got a smile out of the little bugger, and an affirmative agreement of, “deal.”

Pushing yourself slightly from where you had withdrawn against the wall, you started to make your way back to the apartment, Five keeping stride beside you. Just as you were about to open the door, he asked, “so, are you going to tell me why you brought a clock with you as a weapon?”

“Nope.”

Five laughed. The bastard actually laughed at something you said. A small, breathy one that really was only a quiet huff presented with a smile, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “Alright then.”

Well, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Then you walked into the living area and immediately realized that it was actually going to be far worse than just ‘bad’.

“Are you wearing a G-string?”

Holding his pants in his hand, with what looked like coffee or tea dripping from them and on to the plush white carpet, Klaus turned towards you from where he had previously been glaring at an equally as annoyed looking Luther, a sly smile morphing his face instead. Slightly popping his hip coquettishly, he replied in a faux sultry tone, “why yes, I am. You like?

You shrugged, dropping your bag into the couch, already becoming desensitized to his odd and unexplainable behaviors. “Honestly, I’m just happy to know you wear anything under those pants at all.”

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy imagine #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #klaus hargreeves fanfic #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x reader #five #five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #tua

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distant-rose · 5 years

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Oreos at One-Thirty

Notes: Today is the two-year anniversary of the Little Pirates series. That’s right. On August 16th, 2017, I published the first installment of the series By the Hook. It’s insane to me to think I’ve been writing for this series so long and I couldn’t have done it without the amazing support of all my readers. While the first installment focused on Killian and Beth, I decided to celebrate the series by writing about Emma and Wes today. Thank you for everything and a special thank you to @optomisticgirl for constantly letting me spam her about this dumb ass universe. She’s a trooper. Summary: It’s the middle of the night and one of Emma Swan’s kids is out of bed. She’s not going to stand for this. Word Count: 2,500+ Rating: T

It was 1:30 in the morning when the stairs gave a small whine. It was a faint noise, one that most people wouldn’t notice.

But Emma Swan wasn’t most people.

She had never been the most peaceful of sleepers. The slightest of sounds had the tendency of waking her up, one of the many leftovers from living on the streets and staying in stolen hotel rooms. While a few of her habits from that time had faded, her light-sleeping habits seemed only be more honed with the birth of her children.

She laid there in her bed, ears straining for more movement and her hand automatically reaching for her nightstand where she hid her pistol. She would like to think that no one in Storybrooke would have the balls to attack her family in their home in the middle of the night, but with the number of villains and curses she had dealt with over the past couple of decades, she wasn’t willing to chance it. She glanced over at her husband, debating whether or not she should wake him. He was snoring away, completely unaware of the stirrings in their house, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to rob him of his sleep after some many late-night shifts at the station.

Her decision was made for her when there was another creak from the stairway, one that was only made when someone was putting their weight on the bottom step. She scowled in the dark.

There was no intruder in her house.

Someone was out of bed.

Muttering curses under her breath, she crawled out of the warmth of her own bed. Killian mumbled something in his sleep before shifting in the warm spot she had left behind and grasping at her pillow. If she wasn’t so annoyed with their kids, she would have smiled at the sight.

As she headed down the stairs, blue and white light danced across the walls followed by the faint chiming music of an advertisement for Old Spice. As she got halfway down, the identity of her little miscreant was revealed.

Her twelve-year old son was on her couch, watching television and stuffing not one, not two, not three but four Oreos into his mouth all at once.

“You got to be kidding me!”

Wes jumped at the sound of her voice, tipping over the large glass of milk he had been cradling in his elbow and sending the packet of cookies flying into the air. Emma’s mood only soured as she watched the mess spread across her leather couch and drip onto her brand new and very expensive carpet that she and Killian had bought two days ago.

“Uhhhhh…hi Mom…fancy seeing you here…” He scrambled a bit, looking around frantically for something before grabbing a half-eaten Oreo off the floor and holding it out to her. “Cookie?”

She gave him an unimpressed look, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms in front of her chest as she regarded him. His blue eyes darted between her and the Oreo in his outstretched hand.

“What? Don’t believe in the five-second rule?”

“Westley.”

“I can get you a new cookie. It’s no big deal.”

“Westley Graham.”

“But it would be a total waste of a cookie and you know what Grandma Snow always says — waste not, want not.”

“Kid, it’s two in the morning.”

“Actually, it’s one thirty-two, so you’re—”

“Your bedtime is eight-thirty,” she cut him off, rubbing at her temples as her irritation with him rose.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Really? You do? So, you’re not actually here? You’re upstairs like you were supposed to be for the last six hours and I’m just hallucinating right now? I’m not actually witnessing you out of bed and destroying my furniture?”

“No, I’m here. I did actually go to bed at eight-thirty like you wanted…I just woke up and got bored. It’s not like we have a mandatory wake-up time.”

“You’re supposed stay in bed until six-thirty…” Emma replied through gritted teeth. Wes raised his eyebrows at her, looking disturbingly like Killian whenever he was feeling particularly obstinate.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“When?”

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and mentally counted to ten to keep from screaming. When she looked back at her son, he was watching her with an expression that was caught between wary and amused. She was going to kill him.

“I’m saying it right now. Seriously. Kid, if you don't pick up that mess you’ve made of my living room and get your ass back in bed, so help me, I will tan your hide!"

“I’m pretty sure the law frowns upon child abuse.”

“Oh kid, you’re forgetting one teeny tiny detail, I am the law. Get some paper towels. Now.”

Catching her thunderous expression, Wes scrambled off the couch and headed into the kitchen. She was mildly impressed with how fast he was able to move on those skinny toothpick legs of his.

Emma let out a sigh, trying not to think about the ruined rug. Everything in her house was in a state of disrepair. The coffee table had watermarks on it. The couch had been broken more times than she could count. Even the television had small dents and scratches on the screen from the time Beth and Neddy had a lightsaber match that had gotten out of hand. What difference did it make that the brand new rug now had stains on it?

While waiting for her son to come back with paper towels, she went to work picking up the leftover Oreo crumbles on the couch. She deposited them in the empty side of the plastic container before sitting down on the dry side of the couch and turning her attention to the television. Her interest piqued as Dataline crossed the screen, detailing the disappearance of a young woman from Texas.

“They think her boyfriend did it,” Wes commented as he returned.

“What?”

“Christina Morris,” he replied, nodding his head towards the television. “They think her boyfriend kidnapped her. They’re not sure if he killed her or if he took her in Mexico or something.”

“Grim,” Emma remarked absently, picking up the last Oreo and biting it.

“Totally.”

“What the hell are you doing watching this in the middle of the night? You’re going to get nightmares from this stuff.”

“As if I don’t already have nightmares anyway,” he replied, not looking at her as he went about cleaning up the spilled milk.

Her anger and irritation melted away at his words, giving away to concern. She patted the place beside her. Wes hesitated, looking conflicted as he placed the soiled paper towels on the coffee table.

“Come here.”

He climbed onto the couch, placing some space between them. Emma was having none of it, pulling him by the shoulders and guiding his head into her lap like she often did when he was a much smaller boy and afraid of the dark. She brushed her fingers through his thick blond hair, frowning as she looked down at him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s got you so shaken up?”

“It’s just…” He trailed off, averting his eyes and swallowing his words.

“Wes…It’s better to talk about it.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m your mom, kid. I wiped your bottom when you were baby. Nothing gets more embarrassing than that.”

“Mom, c’mon,” he whined, turning on his side and pressing his face into her stomach. She didn’t press him any further. Even when he was a baby, he had never responded well to being pushed into things. He had inherited both her and Killian’s stubbornness in tenfold. Getting him to do anything when he was a toddler had been absolute nightmare and he had only gotten slightly better in age, replacing tantrums with a defiant look and firmly stated “no.”

So, she did what she felt was best in these type of situations. She waited for him to open up to her, continuing to run stroke his hair and watched what was left of the Dataline episode on her TV screen. They were showing interviews with Christina’s suspect boyfriend before Wes mumbled something against her clothed belly, his breath warming the fabric.

“What was that?” she asked, pausing her ministrations.

“Clowns.”

“Clown?”

“Clowns,” he repeated. “You know like killer clowns. Like in that movie, you know, It?”

Emma shuddered. She remembered the Stephen King novel vividly. She had read it back in when she was in prison and had nothing but time on her hands. It had given her nightmares as well. She was aware it had been turned into a movie a couple of times, but horror movies had never been her thing and she had little desire to actually watch it. She had found the story to be disturbing at eighteen, she couldn’t imagine how terrifying it was to a twelve-year old. He shouldn't be watching or reading things like that.

“Wait a minute,” she frowned, coming to a realization. “How do you know about It?”

“Henry!” Wes replied a little too quickly.

“You, Westley Graham Jones, are a liar and a terrible one at that,” Emma said pointedly, giving him a tired glare. “One, Henry hates horror movies... and possibly killer clowns more than you do. Two, he would never in a million years let you watch something like that. So, tell me the truth this time.”

“Okay, okay, okay. Just promise me you won’t get mad?”

“I’m making no such promises. Seriously, Wes. The truth.”

He let out a heavy dramatic sigh. He was becoming more and more moody as he had gotten older. He was going to be a nightmare teenager. Emma was sure of it.

“Gideon and I snuck into a showing of it during Halloween. He said if I didn’t it would be because I’m scared, and I’m not scared of anything—”

“Except clowns,” Emma cut him off. “Wes, that’s an R rated movie. Gideon is fourteen and even he’s not old enough to watch those kinds of movies. You certainly aren’t. There are ratings on things for a reason.”

“It’s just a movie,” he scowled at her.

“Yeah. A movie that scared you badly enough that you’re having nightmares and are up at all hours of the night feasting on Oreos,” she replied, looking at the demolished empty container. “Your father is going to kill you. His sweet tooth is almost as bad as yours.”

“So? You can just buy more.”

“You think money grows on trees, don’t you?” she asked, unimpressed with his answer.

“Well, money is made from paper and paper comes trees so there’s that.”

“Smart ass kid.”

“Better than being a dumb ass.”

“God, you’re so my kid it hurts sometimes,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

He was staring up at her with that impish little grin that seemed to have permanent residence on his face since the time he could walk. He was a good kid though, even if he did sometimes eat all the Oreos and wake her up at all hours of the night. Out of her five children, Wes was the most like her; a little rough around the edges and sometimes a little too smart with his mouth, but he was never malicious. He was just a little too defensive and wanting to prove to be people he was tough. She had been the same at his age.

She wanted to soften those edges. Hers had been bore out of a need to survive; they had been necessary to endure group homes, bullies, being homeless, being in prison and then later as the Savior. Wes didn’t need them. Nothing was going to happen to him, not while she was still breathing.

“You know it’s okay to be scared right?” she asked after a moment.

“What?”

“Being scared of things. It’s normal.”

He scoffed at her words. “You’re not scared of anything.”

“That’s not true,” she sighed. “Want to know a little secret?”

He nodded wordlessly in response.

“I get scared a lot,” she admitted. “I get scared all the time of things – villains, bills, that I’m not being a good mom—”

“But you’re the best!” Wes protested, cutting her off.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, let me finish,” she responded gently. “The point is sometimes I get scared, but the important thing is to not let it control you. Sometimes fear is a healthy thing, but it shouldn’t paralyze you and stop you from doing things…Do you understand me?”

“Yeah…I guess…” He looked unsure.

“Do you know what makes me feel better when I’m scared…Knowing that I have your dad…and Henry…and your grandparents…and even Regina...I just know that having them in my life makes me stronger and that I’m not alone…and you know what, kid? You’re not alone either…you have all of us and even your brothers and sister.”

“I’m not trusting Neddy to fight off bad guys. He’s barely toilet trained.”

“Oh, stop, he’s fine. A little accident here and there isn’t bad. Give him a break.”

“He peed on my bed, Mom.”

“Like I said accidents happen. He’s not gonna be little forever. He might be even bigger than you and Har someday.”

“Yeah right,” he scoffed.

“All kidding aside, it’s okay to get scared but you can’t let it control you and your sleep schedule…”

“I know, I just…I’m not ready to go back to sleep yet.”

“And that’s okay…We can stay down here for a little bit and watch some TV but not all night, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, batting his forehead against her hand. She chuckled quietly to herself as she resumed stroking his hair. He reminded her a bit of the stray dog she used to feed back when she was in Boston, starved for food and attention.

A new episode of Dateline started, and Emma watched it half-heartedly. Her attention was more focused on the droopy-eyed boy in her lap. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier as the minutes passed. He was asleep a good few minutes into the episode. She debated quietly whether or not she should wake him so he could sleep properly in his bed but loathed the idea of waking him up again.

She placed a brief kiss on his forehead before gingerly removing his head from her lap and placing a decorative pillow underneath it. She picked up one of the various throw blankets that were strewn carelessly across the floor and tucked him in. She left the television on, wanting to give him some source of light just in case Pennywise the Clown haunted his dreams again and woke him up. It was one of the few things she craved when she awoke from nightmares, being able to see her surroundings and make sure she was safe. She could only imagine that he might desire the same thing.

As she slipped back into bed, Killian wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her close and nuzzled his nose against her neck.

“You’re back,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah. I’m surprised you’re awake.”

“You really think I was going to sleep without you in our bed, love?”

“Well…with the way you were snoring…”

“Hey now,” he muttered in mock offense, nudging her foot with his. “Wes back in bed?”

“You know it was him?”

“Educated guess really. He’s our biggest night owl.”

“He had a nightmare. He and Gideon have been sneaking into R rated movies.”

“We’re going to have to watch him. If anyone is going to be throwing secret keggers, it’s going to be him,” Killian commented.

“Probably, but let’s worry about that when he’s a teenager and not at two in the morning. Right now, I just want to go sleep.”

“Alright, love,” he chuckled before placing a kiss behind her ear. “Pleasant dreams.”

“Yeah, no clowns hopefully."

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #cs fanfic #little pirates #little pirates fic #oreos at 1:30 #wes jones #my fic #my shit

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crusherthedoctor · 5 years

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Sonic Villains: Sweet or Shite? - Part 12: THE HARD-BOILED HEAVIES

There are some villains I like. And there are some villains I don’t like. But why do I feel about them the way I do? That’s where this comes in.

This is a mini-series of mine, in which I’ll be going into slightly more detail about my thoughts on the villains in the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, and why I think they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). I’ll be giving my stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves in the game(s) they featured in. Keep in mind that these are just my own personal thoughts. Whether you agree or disagree, feel free to share your own thoughts and opinions! I don’t bite. :>

Anyhow, for today’s installment, we’ll be covering the rotund oppression squad of Sonic Mania, and celebrated improv artists among the Badnik community: the Hard-Boiled Heavies.

The Gist: Sonic the Hedgehog and Miles "Tails" Prower were heading to Angel Island in pursuit of a mysterious new jewel that their nemesis, Dr. Eggman, was on the hunt for. Unfortunately for them, a squad of Egg Robos had already beaten them to the punch, because literally everyone in the Sonic universe is faster than Sonic. Upon being unearthed, the jewel in question - the Phantom Ruby - wasted no time in working its magic, and with its unexplained distortion efforts, it sent Sonic and Tails (and Knuckles) to Green Hill.

Also, it gave the Egg Robos more than a few nifty accessories.

The king was on his own with finding the tip of his scepter though.

Thus began a new adventure that proved to the non-believers that this franchise can in fact work beautifully when the characters have gameplay mechanics in common with each other and aren't going around picking up guns and turning into werehogs. Sonic was on a mission to get to the bottom of the Phantom Ruby shenanigans, but his upgraded opposition, dubbed the Hard-Boiled Heavies, did whatever they could to stop the hedgehog's pulse, which largely involved making use of old Badniks in refreshing and exciting new ways... much like themselves.

This is a more compelling take on Arthurian legend than the entirety of Black Knight.

All the while, Eggman carried on using the Phantom Ruby to his heart's content to make things even more difficult for our heroes, like teleporting them away as often as a Kirby final boss, and giving Metal Sonic a brand new Final Smash. Eggman planned to use the Titanic Monarch, a giant robot that made the monsters in Shadow of the Colossus look vertically challenged by comparison, to achieve his lifelong dream of taking over the world. Complications arose however, when the leader of the Heavies decided he wanted the Phantom Ruby for himself. Sadly for him, this was not an Adventure Era title, meaning Eggman actually fought back, and on equal terms at that. Sonic, with his super form, was forced to take on Eggman and the King at the same time.

In a stunning revelation, Sonic defeated them both. But not before the Phantom Ruby itself teleported the hedgehog away one last time, to a different time completely, where he would experience a different journey altogether... Then he came back, did the whole thing all over again, and now he's cracking a cold one with the boys (and King, for some reason).

Fucking 4Kids censors at it again.

The Designs: The Heavies are still Egg Robos at their core, so they share the same general body structure. Don't assume that makes them indistinguishable however, for they've been given a lot of bells and whistles that play to each of their thematic motifs, right up to their weapons of choice.

Heavy Gunner is a robo-bobby:

"You're nicked, hedgehog... But before you're sent to the chair, are there any pencils you'd like me to sharpen for you?"

Heavy Shinobi is a stealthy ninja, despite being neon green:

He speaks entirely in fortune cookies.

Heavy Magician is always dressed to impress:

These guys certainly do make me feel like magic.

Heavy Rider is a rough n' tough knight of the round table... if that table was Eggman's:

She dances when'ere she's able.

And the top dog, Heavy King, is suitably imposing without trying too hard and looking accidentally hilarious in the process, unlike certain other villains in this very series:

Why did he watermark his chest hair?

His Majesty also gained a second form during his final battle, which sacrificed his legs for size, power, and high quality Tee Lopes rips.

And a chimney for his head.

These designs already go far to give the Heavies their own sense of individual character. As you'll soon notice however, that's only half of it...

The Personalities: You can laugh all you want, but these Egg Robos in a game with no dialogue whatsoever managed to show vastly more personality than many of the villains in this franchise WITH dialogue. Look at this shit right here, and tell me they don't immediately ooze charm like it's nothing.

Pictured: Love at first sight.

And this extends to your confrontations with each of them. Gunner is crafty, and willing to sacrifice his own men to cover his ass, but the panicked look on his face when things go south for him is very relatable.

"Wait... I'm in a Sonic game...? ...For Sonic fans...? ...Oh god..."

Meanwhile, Shinobi puts up a cool and suave front, and never hesitates to go in for the kill, but he's not above playing around for the sake of his own cockiness.

Magician is a bubbly showoff, always popping up to mess with the heroes at a moment's notice. But she's also rather affable, and well-mannered to her mortal enemies.

Almost makes up for the Strangelove hands.

And Rider is perpetually in the midst of a cocaine rush, as her thirst for thrill and fun never sleeps. Yet she appears to have great affection for her pet Motobug, Jimmy.

Finally, King is a no-nonsense frowny face with a Sean Connery accent who is sick of his fellow Heavies' shit, who can nonetheless back himself up as the group's undisputed leader.

They may be fairly straightforward, but through the subtleties of their animations, there's a lot of life put into these guys, and their characters don't start and finish with their default trait like so many before them. You don't need to be Shakespeare in a Sonic game. You just need to be memorable and entertaining while fulfilling your role. And the Heavies do that with considerable ease.

The Execution: This might come as a surprise to you, but I love the shit out of the Heavies.

How can you hate this???

You have to understand that an overwhelming number of villains in this franchise not named Eggman have not only ranged from mediocre to terrible, they've also had a tendency of feeling the same as each other. When it's not a giant monster with little backstory of genuine interest, it's a guy dressed in all black who does evil for evil's sake. And that's without adding the recolours and their penchant for gaining disproportionate fandoms simply for being recolours.

Why is it, then, that a group who are all based on the same robot succeed where those villains fail?

Well, I'd argue there's a few elements at work there. The obvious one is that they're simply better implemented, and they leave an impression through their boss encounters and animations rather than whether or not they played tonsil hockey with Shadow or Amy in a fanfic. Another factor is that unlike other villains, they were never hyped up to be the Raddest, Baddest, Greatest Enemy of All Time for Sonic, and thus they didn't run the risk of not being able to live up to that claim. They were allowed to simply exist and do their own thing, as one addition to help compliment an overall package.

You could also argue that their status as a group works in their favor too, as it helps to make each of their traits pop out that little bit more. And they're honestly really clever with their strategies, like how Magician transforms into forgotten characters to spice things up, or how Shinobi's shurikens aren't actually shurikens, but rather Asterons, one of the most notorious enemies in the series. And need I mention Rider using a goddamn Motobug like it's a steed? These characters could have been very throwaway, but there's a surprising level of thought put into how each of them work, and giving them a characteristic spin that works to Sonic's tastes, and considering this is the same franchise that gave us a bad guy named Black Doom, I'd say it's worth noting.

"...Please explain why Boobie Bots Weekly is in my search history."

So yes, in this world where Dooms and Mephiles's's's's's's have been running rampant, the Hard-Boiled Heavies share their creator's honor of making a name for themselves. And as much as I have a fondness for the Deadly Six in spite of their issues (Zazz and Zor are still hilarious, fight me), I will agree without argument that the Heavies are a much better execution of the quirky boss group format on the overall side of things. And I swear to GodJesus and the Bear, if they never make a single appearance past their debut, I will be a very sad panda. If they can give Silver and his tiresome schtick countless second chances (and failing to make it interesting every single time), they can sure as hell give these juggernauts another go.

But until then, at least we still have Mania. Now if you'll excuse me, Shinobi's about to teleport behind me. Hope it's nothing personal.

Crusher Gives the Hard-Boiled Heavies a: Thumbs Up!

#Sonic Villains: Sweet or Shite?#Opinion #Sonic the Hedgehog #The Hard-Boiled Heavies #Sonic Mania

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