#✧ — » one jump ahead. / promo. ❜

[dreamauri]

i love your seb fics sm 😭😭 pls write more!

♪ — 𝗦𝗟𝗢𝗪 𝗗𝗢𝗪𝗡 rbr! sebastian vettel x fem! rally driver! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . when the redbull media team gather their golden f1 and rally drivers for a promo video, only chaos will follow the couple when they try to drive a hot lap around the historical nordschleife.

( master list | more of sebastian vettel ) ( requests | taglist )

“I’m driving.” You called dibs, darting to the driver’s side, only for you and Seb to collide at the door, both fighting for it. “I wanna drive,” he argued, a mischievous glint in his eye as he tickled your side, right where you couldn’t hold back a laugh. It was unfair, and he knew it. You squealed, reflexively jumping back just enough for him to dive into the seat and reach for the seatbelt.

“That was cheating!” you grumbled, grabbing onto his arm and trying to tug him out before he could buckle up. But he was already settled, flashing you a bright, unbothered grin as he clicked the seatbelt securely.

“Guess the driver’s seat was calling me more than you,” he teased, reaching over to ruffle your hair before you swatted him away, reluctantly slumping into the passenger seat.

“Just don’t kill us, okay?” you said, pressing your back into the seat, the Nordschleife track stretching ahead of you in a foreboding line of twists, turns, and blind corners.

Seb shot you a look. “Me? Never.” He winked, hands sliding over the steering wheel, a smooth kind of confidence radiating from him. “You know, you’ll be safe with me,” he added with a grin that made your stomach twist.

“Mhmm,” you muttered, voice heavy with doubt as you fumbled for your seatbelt, the straps feeling somehow flimsier than usual. You knew the Nordschleife's reputation—a dangerous beast of a track with over seventy corners. And as a rally driver yourself, you were no stranger to risks. But something about sitting in the passenger seat, entirely at someone else's mercy, made your skin prickle.

He turned to you with that playful smirk, obviously enjoying your apprehension. “Want me to hold your hand?”

You stared at him. “Sebastian, keep your hands on the steering wheel,” you warned, voice edged with a little panic, even as he laughed, giving the wheel a reassuring pat.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, glancing over at you with an exaggeratedly serious expression.

“Yes, yes, I trust you, now just go!” You smacked his shoulder, only for your hand to stay there, gripping his sleeve as if it was somehow keeping you safe. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Seb grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes as he took off, his foot pressing down on the accelerator. You felt the engine roar to life, the sheer power of the car echoing through your bones as he navigated the first few corners with that natural ease only he seemed to possess. You couldn’t help but squeeze the edge of your seat, your fingers finding the dashboard and clinging to it for dear life.

“Yn, you’re holding onto that dashboard like it’s your last lifeline,” Seb chuckled, his eyes focused ahead, but you could see the amusement dancing at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” you huffed, pressing your foot down on a very non-existent brake pedal, your nerves doing somersaults as Seb took another sharp turn with way too much finesse. “There’s a difference between watching you on TV and actually being here, Seb! If I was driving, this would be easy.”

Seb let out a mock gasp, pretending to be hurt. “Are you doubting my skills?”

“No,” you muttered, though the reassurance was mostly for yourself. “Just saying that passenger seat syndrome is real, alright?”

His laugh echoed through the car as he took another corner, this one sharper than the last, and you felt your body press against the side of the seat, fingers digging into the fabric. He reached over as if to pat your leg in reassurance, but you smacked his hand back toward the wheel.

“Hands! On! The wheel!” you shouted, barely containing your nervous energy.

He was full-on laughing now, a sound that should’ve been comforting, but only made your heart pound louder. “You’re cute when you’re nervous, you know that?”

“Sebastian!” you half-shouted, half-groaned, closing your eyes as he sped through yet another tricky section of the track, the car dipping into a turn so tight you could feel the weight shift under you. Each time he maneuvered through a turn, your stomach did flips, and each time he pressed down on the accelerator, you clutched his sleeve a little tighter, whispering an unintelligible jumble of prayers and swear words.

He seemed to be enjoying every second, driving with the calm of a man used to pushing the limits, as if he hadn’t just driven you to the edge of your patience. And yet, in his hands, every turn felt smooth, calculated, like he could do this with his eyes closed.

“Almost done, love,” he said, throwing you a quick grin. “Unless you want to go another round?”

You rolled your eyes, panting as the finish line came into view. “If you don’t stop this car, I’m breaking up with you.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he teased, finally easing up on the gas as he brought the car to a gradual stop, the adrenaline rush leaving you buzzing even as the tires rolled to a halt. The second you were safe and still, you practically ripped your seatbelt off, pushing the door open and leaping out as if the car was still on fire.

You staggered a few steps, hands on your knees as you caught your breath. The film crew stood nearby, chuckling to themselves, and you glared at them.

“Don’t you ever put me through that again!” you shouted, chest still heaving as you straightened, trying to reclaim any ounce of dignity you might have had before this hot lap.

Seb climbed out after you, a grin wide as a Cheshire cat’s, strolling over as if he hadn’t just hurtled you through one of the most challenging tracks in the world at breakneck speed. He stopped beside you, leaning in close. “Now you know how I feel when I’m your navigator in rallies.”

You shot him a look, biting back a laugh. “Not. The. Same.”

“Oh, totally the same,” he insisted, feigning hurt. “I mean, rally cars, trees inches away, dirt roads, blind turns, and somehow you expect me to sit there and just… chill?”

You snorted, crossing your arms, still recovering. “You’re not in control. That’s why you freak out. But as soon as I’m driving, it’s like I can breathe.”

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a half-hug. “Well, next time, you can show me how to do it.”

“Oh, don’t you worry.” You flashed a grin up at him, already planning the many ways you’d remind him of this little ordeal.

Sebastian laughed, pulling you closer until your heads touched, both of you catching your breath, the adrenaline still lingering. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and it softened everything, the nerves, the thrill, the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

“So, you wanna go for another lap?” he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You pulled back, hands up in protest. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

He smirked. “Then let’s go find lunch. I’d hate to see you faint on me.”

[darkeyessdarkheart]

Mi Vida

warnings: Language

pairings: Damian Priest x reader

word count: 3,137

Here you are! Again, I repeat bear with me. I'm still slowly but surely getting back into writing and finding my style. I used Spanish dictionary for the Spanish translations. If any are incorrect, please let me know! Enjoy!

It was beginning to feel like a vicious cycle. This was the second week in a row that you were watching the newly reformed Judgement Day attack Damian. Even though you knew it was part of the long game and that in the end Damian would prevail, it didn’t make it any easier. Watching your boyfriend get jumped by four men always made your skin crawl and your blood boil. 

You watched as Finn performed a third and final coup de grace on Damian; you shook your head, your lips pulled in tight in discontent. Being a part of production, you knew there was nothing you could do besides sit and watch and hope he wasn’t extremely injured. You anxiously await the call for the video of Sheamus’ promo to begin playing so you could rush to the gorilla to try to meet Damian. Just so you could at least see if he was walking on his own or if he had medics with him. You watch the countdown for the cameras to cut, and every second feels like an eternity. 

Finally the shot dissipates, and you pull your headset down to your neck, looking over at your coworkers. “Don’t even ask, just go. Take your 15 early.” Your co-worker Lila says, waving her hand at you, already knowing you were going to ask if you could go. You mouth a quick thank you to her as she still has her set on and bolt to the gorilla. By the time you get there, Damian is already back; however, he is being supported by Rhea and an official. He’s bent over his abdomen clearly in excruciating pain, judging by the look on his face. “Holy shit, is he okay?!” You direct your questioning to Rhea, as Damian is clearly in too much discomfort to answer, his teeth gritted and groaning with every step he takes. 

“I don’t know. We’re taking him to medical to make sure he doesn’t have any broken ribs.” She shakes her head, making eye contact with you clearly out of breath herself after fending off Liv Morgan. “I’m coming with you guys.” You immediately begin to follow alongside them. “No.” You hear in a strained voice coming from your boyfriend. 

“D, what do you mean, no?! I need to make sure you’re not hurt!” You look at him, trying to talk some sense into him, your eyes pleading. “I said no.” His voice now is more stern as he finally looks up and makes eye contact with you. “I’ll see you after the show.” He keeps his eyes firm on yours, showing how serious he was. His composure falls as another pain shoots through his body, causing him to fold forward again, moaning.

“Sorry, Y/N, but we gotta hurry. I’ll text you!” Rhea shouts behind her shoulder as they begin to move ahead of you down the long hallway. 

You stand there for a second, unsure of what to do. One part of you wanted to ignore everything he said and chase after them. But the other wanted to respect his wishes, even though you didn’t understand them at all. Damian was always okay with you helping him out whenever you could. Helping him stretch before matches if you had time, making his protein shakes before going to the gym, meal prepping for him along with your own, helping wrap or tape any small injuries or sprains he obtained from matches, and many more things you were always happy to do for him. So why now would he not want you to be there for him?

Before your brain could continue to race, you heard noise coming from your headset. “Y/N, come on. We’re down three people tonight; we need you to finish the show.” You sigh, shaking your head. The last thing on your mind was getting back to work, but you knew you had to do it. You begin to wander back to the production suite, your mind still going 1,000 miles a minute.

The last half of the show could’ve been five hours long as far as you were concerned. You were practically jumping out of your skin to run to the stadium exit and wait for Damian. Once you heard the shout of clear and packed your things, you were gone, practically throwing your equipment onto the table in front of you. 

Rhea had kept true to her word and let you know that his ribs weren’t broken; no real damage was done, minus most likely some bruising to the ribs. He’d be okay, but definitely would be feeling rough for the next few days. While you were grateful, you knew Priest had to be absolutely livid. 

You watch as continuous superstars pass you on their way out, all giving you a smile, a wave, or a hi. You’re polite back, but they can tell you’re anxiously awaiting your man. “Thanks, lass, have a good night.” You’re broken out of your trance by Sheamus passing you. “Thanks.” You softly smile back. Finally the terror twins emerge, Rhea being sure to stay near Damian to watch how he’s walking. He has on a hoodie with the hood up as well as a baseball cap, almost fully hiding his face.

“Rhe, I can’t thank you enough for helping him.” You walk up, giving Rhea a quick side hug, also keeping a close eye on the large man beside you. “Of course, mate, any time. Always gotta be there for my terror twin.” She looks over, hoping to get a response from him, but he keeps his gaze straight ahead. Damian bypasses both of you, his head held down, hiding his already hidden face even further. You watch him duck into your car, wincing as he folds his body down enough to slide into the seat.

“Don’t take it personally, Y/N. Sure, Damian has had his losses. But up until these past few weeks, nothing like this.” She shakes her head disapprovingly. “Thanks; hopefully I can get him to actually speak to me at the hotel.” She scoffs sarcastically, “You have fun with that. I’m out, have a good night!” 

You wave your goodbyes and head to your car. Once inside, you see Damian pretending to be asleep in the passenger seat. You could tell he was faking it considering he wasn’t snoring and was stiff as a board. His telltale signs that he was deep asleep. You shake your head and decide to let him have his moment, at least until you reach the hotel.

~~~~

You open the door to your room, holding it to let him walk ahead of you. Normally this is something he would wholeheartedly protest. Damian was the kind of guy that, even if you were driving, he would run ahead of you to open your car door. He never let his girl hold the door unless absolutely necessary. 

“D?” You ask softly, standing behind him once the door is shut. He remains still as a statue, not turning around to face you. You walk around to the front of his body, coming face to face with him. “Can you talk to me, please? Are you okay?” You put your hands on his hips near his pants, careful not to touch anywhere that might be tender.

“I want to lay down.” He says monotony, still barely making eye contact with you. You look him up and down, debating how to do this without causing him discomfort. Nodding, you step aside slightly, letting him walk towards the bed. “Wait,” you realize before he begins to lay down. “Let’s go ahead and get you out of your clothes. That’s gonna be the worst part.” He appears to snap out of his trance slightly, his brows furrowing as if he’s contemplating it. Eventually he nods in agreement, walking back over towards you.

He looks at you, and you can almost see the struggle on his face. You can tell he wants to ask you, but it’s as if there’s some type of physical block. You’ve never seen him this way. Damian was always the one who, even in the worst scenarios, was strong. Even if he was the one walking away with a black eye or a loss at the end of the night, he always kept on. “You don’t have to ask mi amor. Just stand here.” You reach up, kissing his cheek softly.

“I hate being vulnerable.” He mumbles under his breath, assuming you most likely didn’t hear him. “D, stop. It’s just me.” You grab his hand in yours, causing him to look down at you. “We’re partners, right? You help me when I need it, and I help you when you need it.” You massage the back of his hand gently with your thumb. 

“You can always be vulnerable with me. You don’t have to be The Archer of Infamy or the Punisher around me all the time. You’re Damian.”

“And I love Damian Priest. Even in his weakest and strongest versions of himself.” You take your other hand now, putting it on top of his and squeezing to emphasize your point. He halfheartedly smiles at you, reaching your combined hands up to his lips and giving yours a gentle kiss.

Getting him out of his bottoms was easy, but in order to get his hoodie off, considering your height difference was going to be a challenge. “Slide your arms out of your sleeves, and I’ll lift it over your head.” You theorize in order to avoid him having to reach up and stretch his injured abdomen. He does as you ask as you stand there, still contemplating how to now get it over his head. At only 5'4”, there was a 13 inch height difference between you two, so it’s not like you could reach high enough on your own to get it fully over his head. 

You settle on climbing onto the bed and going on your knees to give you some extra height. He raises his eyebrows slightly watching you position yourself comfortably so you don’t fall. “Don’t you laugh at me, Priest.” You try to get out seriously, but you end up chuckling at yourself. For the first time since this morning, you see a small, real smile cross his face. You grab the bottom of the hoodie and pull it over his head, tossing it aside on the floor. 

You look down, seeing all the athletic tape covering both sides of his ribs and going around his back. In that moment, you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and give him a comforting hug. But you resist knowing it would be excruciating for him. You look up at him to ask if he needed to keep the tape on, but you stop seeing tears in his eyes. 

“Did I get your stomach by accident? Shit, I’m sorry.” You apologize, thinking you must’ve bumped something while taking his hoodie off. You take his lack of a response as a no. He begins to sit on the end of the bed next to you. Moving slowly as he finally gets himself in somewhat of a sitting position. 

“It still doesn’t feel real. Carlito and JD, I would expect. They were never part of the original Judgement Day. I wouldn't expect them to ever be my family.” He rationalizes to himself. “But Dom? I took that little shit in as my own the second Rhea asked. I protected him; we gave him a title since he couldn’t do anything on his fucking own.” He scoffs, shaking his head. You place your hand on his broad tattooed shoulder, rubbing it gently in an attempt to comfort him.

“And Finn… Of all people, I never thought it would be Finn. He was my best friend, my tag partner; hell, he was my brother.” He emphasizes the last part with his deep voice. “After never having a family, I finally had one. Then they just…” He trails off towards the end.

“Betray me.” His voice almost breaks as he gets the words out. The tear now falling down his cheek, staining his tan skin. You had never seen Damian cry in your nine months of dating. It touched something so deep inside of you, you felt tears begin to prick in your own eyes. You reach out to hug him across his shoulder with your arms locking beside his neck. The best you could really do at the moment squeezing him tight.

Ever since the betrayal, Damian had appeared nothing but angry. Always talking about how he couldn’t believe it, how they could do this to him, and how he couldn’t wait to rip every one of them apart one by one, leaving Finn for last. How at Bad Blood he was going to make every single one of them bleed. 

You realize he never truly grieved what he lost. He had lost people he considered his closest confidants. His best friends, his partners in crime, and major contributors to his current persona. You weren’t sure what it was about tonight, whether it was the pain, the exhaustion, or the realization that this was now the third jumping he had taken, but it clearly had hit him. 

“Let it out; I’m right here.” You whisper in his ear, pressing your lips to his shoulder as he continues to cry quietly. You continue to rub his shoulders and whisper comforting things to him for the next few minutes.

Eventually you hear his breathing become more regular, his raspy breaths in through his mouth calming down and beginning to sniffle. You raise your head up from his spot on his shoulder, looking at him. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, and you reach out gently, wiping away some remaining tears with your thumb. 

“Can you scoot back and lay down?” He looks back at the headboard and sighs, nodding, and, in an almost backwards army crawl, makes his way there. Laying his head back against it, he closes his eyes, focusing on catching his breath without hurting himself. 

You prop yourself up on one arm, laying on your side next to him. “You know I’m so proud of you, right?” You ask, looking him up and down. He chuckles, his eyes still closed. “For what? Setting myself up for an unavoidable beating?” He references intentionally inserting himself into the ring, knowing he was outnumbered. 

“Well, maybe not that.” You laugh softly, causing him to also chuckle again as well. “But seriously, you have been so damn strong through this. While they may have gotten over you these past two weeks, you’ve also demolished them just as many times.” He nods, listening to you, silently acknowledging your point.

“While Judgement Day did help raise your popularity, you alone made you who you are today.” You poke his shoulder softly with your finger at the you part. “Your hard work, your dedication, your perseverance, hell, even your damn stubbornness.” He finally lets out the first real laugh you’ve heard the entire day. He quickly reels it in though, grimacing from the pressure it caused. 

“I know this is the last thing you wanted or needed. Especially with Bad Blood in just a couple days. But even now,” You grab his chin gently and turn his head towards you, making direct eye contact with him. “I know you’ll destroy Finn.” A slightly wicked smile crosses your face just at the thought of it as you say it. Damian gripping Finn by the neck and performing south of heaven, slamming him to the mat, getting the pin, and having his hand raised in victory by the referee. 

“Because now that you’ve faced all the emotions head on, all that’s left is to exact your revenge.” He breaks out into a matching malicious grin. 

“Eres malvado mi amor.” He reaches his hand out, touching your cheek to pull you in, catching your lips in a kiss. Your lips mold perfectly against one another as you move together. You pull away, leaving your forehead resting on his, not wanting to get too intense considering his condition. “Me encanta.” He whispers on your lips, giving you one final peck before fully pulling away. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.” Shaking your head, you reach your hand into his hair and begin massaging his scalp with your nails. “It’s a good thing you’ll never find out then, huh?” You kiss his temple as you continue rubbing his head, knowing it’s his favorite. 

“Te quiero tanto.” He practically moans, tilting his head, allowing you more access to his scalp. “You’re like a puppy.” You laugh at his actions but also secretly find it adorable. “Yeah, yeah. If anything, I’m the dog.”

You burst out laughing, “You’re lucky, you’re injured, or I’d pinch you for that one.” “I know,” he breaks out into the cheekiest grin. “Te quiero más.” You lean down, catching his soft lips in yet another kiss. After pulling away, you look over at the nightstand and grab the tv remote off of it.

“What do you say we watch The Shining then get some sleep?” You ask as you turn the tv on. The Shining was the first movie you watched on your first date. The original plan was a fancy dinner, but there was a major tech issue at the very end of the show. You were forced to stay late in order to fix it and ended up missing your dinner reservation. You thought you had completely blown it, and Damian would never ask you out again. However, he was completely cool with it, telling you not to worry and offering different ideas. Together, you finally settled on meeting at your apartment, ordering in Chinese, and watching movies. 

“Por supuesto mi vida.” You tilt your head slightly at the new name. Throughout the months you’d picked up a little bit of spanish pet names, but this one you hadn’t heard. “My life.” He takes your hand in his squeezing gently. 

Being around Damian, you thought it was impossible to feel more loved than you already did. Yet every single day, he always proved you wrong. You rubbed your free hand up and down his chest, sighing. “You better recover fast. Not just for Bad Blood, but for me too.” He burst out into a deep laugh. 

“Will do, baby.” He puckers his lips for another kiss, unable to lean far enough towards you. Happily obliging, you lean down, kissing both fhis cheeks and then his lips. You turn on the movie, lying down on your side with your head resting gently on his shoulder. You continue to rub his chest as you watch, eventually falling asleep together. 

[edgessunflower]

Underground

Pairing: Cathy Kelley x Fem reader x Rhea Ripley

Description: Your partners disguise themselves to watch your underground match

The girls disguise themselves in clothes they rarely wear along with two of your wigs that you used for cosplaying and some of your promos in TNA when your hair was faded or beginning to grow out a bit more. You smiled seeing Cathy in a pink wig while Rhea wore an orange red one putting the thought of telling her to dye her red going in the back of your mind as you walked down the alleyway as it was called in the underground dome, the match got underway as you jumped off the ropes and did a crossbody on Drew who was also on the ground roster along with a few other stars in WWE and TNA but the underground rules had most of their rules like a fighting club with the company's safety rules and protocols while allowing matches to pan out without anything being predetermined which added more fight and will plus a bit more danger and strangely fun to it as well. An hour went by as the match only grew more unexpected and chaotic with you and drew matching well against each other from his build and strength to your fast and high flying style there was always a counter to a move followed by someone always being a step ahead of the other until you caught drew with a sweet chin music, the girls were cheering louder than everyone in the dome as you walked out of the arena waiting for the girls in the parking lot after showering and watching the rest of the show leading to you and the girls at a local restaurant eating chicken wings as the afternoon turned into a surprise date that the three of you hadn't had in awhile due to all of your packed schedules but it was nice to have moments like this together filled with love and only focusing on each other and nothing else at all.

[harlowsbby]

Fading Out?

Summary, Jack misses date night and the reader gets upset.

Jack 💘

“Babe what are you doing right now? If you aren’t doing anything make sure you get ready, I’m taking you out tonight.”

That was the last message you received from Jack before you started rushing around to get ready for your mysterious little date that he’d be taking you on.

The time was around three almost four in the afternoon, you knew Jack usually left the studio around five so you quickly jumped into the shower to freshen up.

“Why are you getting all dressed up?” Your friend Jessica’s voice came through the speaker of your phone.

“Jack is taking me out tonight I’m not really exactly sure where but all he said was for me to get ready.” You told her.

“Really?! That’s so sweet.” She gushed and you smiled.

“I know! I’m so excited, we haven’t been out together in a while he’s always so busy with work and his album, it feels good to actually spend some time together.” You confessed.

With Jack being gone all day with either finishing up his album, or doing promo shoots with New Balance or just photo shoots in general, there wasn’t enough time left to actually spend time together.

So when Jack texted you saying that he was taking you out you were beyond thrilled and over the moon with excitement.

Looking at the time you noticed it was about five minutes till five. “I’ll call you later Jessica I’m going to call Jack right now.” You told her. “Okay, have fun tonight.”

After the two of you hung up you went ahead and decided to call Jack to see where he was at. When he didn’t answer you looked down at your phone with a frown on your face.

“That’s weird.” You mumbled to yourself, usually whenever you’d call Jack he’d answer right away but you figured he was driving so you decided to text him.

Jack 💘

- I’m ready! Let me know when you’re outside!

You smiled and put your phone down and fixed your lipstick and looked yourself over one last time. It was now five thirty and still no sign of Jack.

Nemo’s house wasn’t far from Jack’s house it was about ten minutes down the street so you weren’t understanding why he still wasn’t home.

You decided to call Urban to see if he at least knew where Jack was. “Pick up.” You mumbled as you started to shake your leg, it was a habit you tended to do whenever you were nervous.

“Hello?” Urban’s voice came through the speaker. “Urban!” You yelled and he winched, not expecting for you to be yelling.

“Yes Y/N? Why are we yelling?” He laughed and took a step outside to hear you better. “Have you seen Jack? Or heard from him recently?” You asked Urban.

“Jack? Yeah he’s in the house with us.” Your eyebrows furrowed together. “Us? Who is us?” You asked him.

“Like Nemo, Ace, a few girls but don’t worry Jack isn’t cheating.” He laughed. “Oh okay well when you see him again can you let him know I said thanks for tonight.” You mumbled into the phone.

“Uh yeah sure I got you.” Urban asked he wasn’t quite sure why you wanted him to say that but he wasn’t about to question or get in the middle of anything.

You hung up the phone and went ahead and got unready. Deep down you had a feeling tonight wasn’t going to happen but you decided to be hopeful.

Just as you were about to turn off all of the lights downstairs and head upstairs to bed Jack came through the door with an apologetic look on his face.

“Baby, shit I’m so sorry I was about to leave Nemo’s house to come get you so we can go out but I got sidetracked by Ace and-.” He kept ranting and ranting and you were honestly sick and tired of hearing him.

“It’s okay.” You said with a tight lip smile. “Really it’s fine I should’ve known better than to give my hopes up, my fault.” You smiled at him and made your way upstairs.

“What?” Jack watched you as you walked passed him and upstairs to your shared room. He expected for you to yell at him or do something but you not doing anything made him even more worried.

“Babe? Are you good? Are we good?” He asked and watched how you laid yourself under the covers and sat up against the headboard.

“We’re perfect.” You sarcastically stated. “I feel like you’re lying.” He nervously laughed.

“Of course I’m lying Jack can’t you tell.” You spat and suddenly you were no longer leaning back you were now up and ready to discuss this.

“Okay so what’s wrong? Talk to me.” He said and sat next to you and went to grab your hands but you pulled your hands back.

“You should know that the problem is we haven’t spent anytime together !” You yelled your hands flying up in frustration.

“I thought you understood that I needed to get this album done? Once I finish the album then I’m all yours.” You scoffed.

“You don’t get it.” You chuckled dryly. “Why do I have to wait till your fucking album is finished to spend time with you!” You yelled.

You hated yelling it was one of your least favorite things to do but you wanted to get your point across to him.

“Are you being serious right now? You’re acting really selfish Y/N.” He spoke. “You know what if you don’t or can’t understand my lifestyle and understand that I won’t be available to run to your every beck and call.” He sighed heavily.

“Then maybe we shouldn’t be together Y/N.” He stated.

Your heart shattered at his words the last thing you wanted to do was to break up with Jack. “That’s how you feel?” You croaked out.

“Then fine we’re over.” Jack watched you with sadden eyes as you made your way out the room.

That night you slept alone in the spare bedroom you just needed time to think and time for yourself to try and see what you were going to do now.

Eventually you ended up falling asleep and waking up the following morning to spell of bacon, sausage and eggs being made downstairs.

You tied your robe against you and crossed your arms over your chest as your made your way into the kitchen. When you finally came into view you saw Jack sweating away at the stove.

“Good morning.” He smiled when he saw you and handed you a plate.

“Thank you.” You mumbled and sat at the table Jack frowned usually you’d be running into his arms or giving him a kiss.

The two of you sat and sat in silence you both tended to be a bit stubborn at times. Jack watched with sorrow filled eyes as you twirled around the eggs and nibbled on a piece of bacon.

“Y/N, baby I’m sorry I don’t want to break up with you.” He told you. “So why did you say that last night? All I want is to spend time with you but I didn’t realize I had to schedule an appointment.”

Jack chuckled. “You still got your humor.” You shot him a glare. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding but I am really sorry baby please will you forgive me?” He frowned.

“I’ll forgive you under one condition.” You smirked. “What is it?”

————————————————————————

“I really hate touching feet babe and you know this.” Jack groaned as he started to rub and massage your feet.

“So? What does that have to do with me you said that you’d give me a massage.” You stated and took a sip of your wine.

“I know, I know but still.” He grumbled. “But still nothing get to massaging because I’m getting a bit hungry.” You laughed as he groaned again but nonetheless he continued to rub your feet.

You leaned back into the couch and noticed Jack’s phone was ringing. “Druski is calling you want me to answer.”

“Yeah answer it.” He said. “Jack! Where you at man the game starts in a few minutes Urban and me just got here.”

Jack was meant to be going to a football game with Urban and Druski today but he was going to be busy making up for how he acted last night.

“Sorry Druski but he can’t come he’s a bit busy.” You flipped the camera and showed Jack who was sitting on the floor criss cross, applesauce style and painting your toes.

“Man.” Druski’s head went back in laughter. “You’re such a simp! I’ll catch you later.” Druski laughed one last night before hanging up.

“This is no fun.” Jack grumbled. “It’s fun for me and that’s all that matters and make sure my nail polish isn’t all crooked.” He smacked his teeth.

“Okay baby.” You smiled. “I love you though.” He smiled as well. “I love you too babe.”

(I tried writing this a few times but idk I still don’t like it but I hope you guys do 😭)

[thesunshinemaria]

Japanese Shadow poll: Sonic vs Maria

Sonic Channel held a poll for the december wallpaper. They're gonna make one with Shadow and one other person. Fans were allowed to decide who that person is going to be. The choices were:

Sonic

Maria

Professor Gerald Robotnik

Black Doom

The poll became a BATTLE between Sonic and Maria.

First, at 8000 votes Sonic was the frontrunner

But then at 14.000 votes Maria jumped ahead massively. She was in first at like 46%. (sorry didn't screenshot it)

Then at 21000 votes they were freakin TIED.

Finally at over 31.000 votes

the winner is

SONIC THE HEDGEHOG

My take aways from this poll.

A. the fandom passion is as alive as ever

B. Shadow's story is iconic for fans to care THIS much about Maria

C. After nearly two years direct promo with the two characters, fans want even MORE.

Could Sonic and Shadow BE a more success duo?????

(well yeah, a 90% rated videogame and a billion dollar movie would be the highest success)

[foxes-that-run]

What are your thoughts on haylor meeting up in late 2016? Do you think there was a slight chance of them getting back together, and do you think they would've made it if they did get back together? I know Taylor chose the safest option, but Harrry and her didn't even seem to talk things out, so why even meet in the first place? Didn't Taylor tell him she loves someone else, too? It's so confusing...

I think they did, there are enough crumbs to give it plausible and they both spent November and December in LA and London respectively. But this is in the same time the Joe stuff was starting so who knows.

This got long, sorry. The TLDNR is:

the canon is Taylor met Joe at the Met, dated Tom, broke up and in October 2016 went to Joe's premiere and started dating him. Although Joe was not in the same country as Taylor for most of that time. In May 2017 they went public and were seen 20 times before Reputation came out in November, it was super public.

An alternate timeline is that after Hendall and Hiddleswift both ended within a month and before Joe/Taylor and Harry/Tess Ward went public within a week the haylor sightings, being in the same city, songs, gifts, blind items, edited videos and friend comments were because they were secretly dating again.

because....

24 August - Hiddleswift over

22 September - Hendall break up again.

28 September - Taylor with Cara, Harry MIA, released Another Man covers/mixtape, Joe London.

October - Harry was in Jamaica recording HS1. Joe in London on 3rd. On 13th Joe and Taylor at Bowery enter separately. Joe is in NY for the Billy Lynn Long Halftime Walk promo tour so unlikely to have ample days ahead in NY given the films budget.

11 October - Taylor went to Joe's movie screening and the Rep book has a 19 November polaroid captioned "how would you feel about having a song written about you?"

3 November - Both are in LA for November with HS1 recorded.

25 November - Harry was seen in LA then disappeared for a week. Taylor posted a lot of photos of friendsgiving in RI. Joe not there. Taylor posted photos so would only show who was public.

28 November - is the first clue things may have been back on in a few months (apart from having both been in LA). Gemma (Harry's sister), Lou Teasdale (Harry's close friend & 1D stylist), Sam Campbell (Lou's sister and friend of Harry, married to one of Harry's friends too) go to Karaoke and post lyrics to WANGBT and Sam captions it "talk to my friends". 👀

Haylor Secrets posts that they are together, which.. that account may be totally fake, or making it up, but had been right about stuff

December - Both in London, IDWLF released, Taylor has a birthday party at her London House the Rep magazine photos are in, Harry MIA but in London. On 28 December there was an unconfirmed sighting of them together and Taylor gave Austin a record signed by friends of Harry's. He thanked them and the band commented that it was signed for 'a friends little brother' who turned out to be Taylor Swift.' Harry knew them for years and Sam Campbell commented 'LOL'

31 December - in 2020 7 photos of Taylor & Joe getting ready in her London house leaked with this date given. Why only 7? The date of the New Years Eve jumping into an icy pool story Taylor Nation edited out. If the story was about Joe why would it be edited out?

3 January 2017 - Lover journal that Taylor has been with someone for 3 months, no one has found out and she is living in London. It had been 3.1 months since the Hendall break up and 2.5 months since Joe got to NY. .....

7 January - Harry records Lately where he sings 'I don't believe what you're saying to me, "that I love him"'

13 January - Taylor records DWOHT and the IDWLF music video.

1 February - Harry's birthday, the rose ring appears. Taylor is in NY/Nashville, Harry NY/London and Joe in London.

April - Harry's Rolling Stone interview where he leaves the table when Taylor is brought up and says he wants to tip is hat to her about 1989, and give his whole cap to the muse of HS1, now over.

7 May - Harry seen with Tess Ward, the first time he has been seen with anyone since having dinner with Kendall in September.

16 May - a week later The Sun reports Joe and Taylor dating 'for months'. First time Taylor seen with anyone romantically since August

Even longer versions are in the 2016 and 2017 timelines.

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

The Insurgent

Friday night is perhaps a bad time to do self promo but i'm willing to bet the audience for Detente for the Ravenous doesn't get out a whole lot, so I'm gonna talk about The Insurgent! I'd say it's pretty similar to Spire's "Firebrand" class, a revolutionary who uses the spirit of the people to overthrow oppression. Let's see what they're working with:

What did I want the Insurgent to feel like? Well, it's based off some very minor characters that only show up a handful of times at the beginning of the novel, the freedom fighters who are making do with what they've got against a much scarier, better equipped imperial force. But what they lack in supplies they make up for in courage and ingenuity. The Insurgent class embodies this with a lot of guerilla and improvised weapons abilities, a historical favorite of those who have fought against imperial armies. So it makes sense that the Insurgent would have a skill that lets them beef up a piece of crummier equipment. And of course, because the Insurgent is ideologically motivated, ideological conversion, specifically with regards to class struggle, is an easy jump to make.

The Insurgent very literally uses people as weapons, and my favorite skill of theirs to do this is Human Wave. Probably going to get nerfed to Once per Session, they can just summon a wall of supporters to do battle against various hostile forces. I like this ability because I think it's a fun way for both the GM and player to throw some chaos into the game. The player can simply erect a wall of people between their team and their enemies, but the GM will likely have some influence on what happens once those people reach half health. I think it gives the table a lot of options to create forward momentum in play. Will the crowd turn and run? Will they panic and start a fire? Will they throw themselves bodily at their oppressors? Hard to say! But because they're mostly good at taking hits and not dishing them out, I think it's a decently-balanced ability to let your operatives have a lot of leeway in a tough situation.

Lastly, I wanted one of the Insurgent's Critical Abilities to allow them to cheat death. And I like "Live for the Cause" because I think it reflects how resistance movements do manage to survive. The Insurgent may one day become a martyr. But they're not like the Communer, who is dying to sacrifice themself. They know that empires prefer dead martyrs to living nuisances, and the only way to keep the fight alive is to keep alive themself. In a game about constant, brutal struggle against insurmountable odds, I like that there's a glimmer of hope, an unwillingness to go out in a blaze of glory, and instead keep doing the hard, shitty work ahead.

[cactuslester]

(hi i think it was you who talked about this but if it wasn’t you can ignore this sorryyy <3)

a few months ago you mentioned how it would feel disingenuous if the tour was starting to be made pre-gaming channel return since when they were promoting it said that they were touring because of how popular the gaming channel revival was, so i was wondering, how do you feel about what they said in preshow yesterday about how they revived the gaming channel because they were thinking about going on tour? (not trying to attack you or anything, just interested to hear your thoughts!)

hi anon! thanks for the ask, but i fear you have me mixed up with someone else, i do remember seeing this discussion on my dash a ~couple months ago, but i fear i have since forgotten who it was, sorry (but if this was you and you see this, feel free to weigh in <3), but i'll toss in my two cents anyways :P

yeah i do understand the idea that things would feel a bit disingenuous if they'd been seriously planning this since before dapg comeback and yet were promoting as if this as if it was purely in response to how well the comeback was received

however, after what they said yesterday, (i wasnt there yesterday nor have i listened to the preshow recording, this is just what i understand from people's summaries and posts about what they said, so correct me if im wrong), i dont think the way they went about it was disingenuous at all! it sounds like phil was the one to first bring up wanting to tour again, and dan suggested testing the waters first w/dapg before actually deciding and planning

this honestly makes a lot of sense to me because dan had just come back from wad, but phil hadn't toured since 2018, and i think w/dan talking about wad and also just covid + hiatus, phil genuinely missed us and touring 🥺 so im not gonna fault him for being excited and bringing it up and wanting to jump into planning

dan suggesting testing the waters w/dapg also completely makes sense since it had been 5 whole years, their audience grew up a lot, and the internet ecosystem changed a lot, so it would really be smart to have a way to gauge people's interest in joint content before embarking on something as big as a tour

and while dapg comeback served as a way to gauge that interest, i dont feel like the comeback was like based on Ulterior Motives or anything because i don't think they brought back dapg solely for the tour. we now know from the mukbang that phil really missed dapg and working w/dan throughout the hiatus, and he's been wanting to bring back the gaming channel for a while, he's just been waiting for dan to be ready, so i think even if tour wasn't in the picture at all, if dan had said he was ready, they would've brought dapg back

i also don't think dan said yes to dapg purely for tour reasons (especially since he Just finished a tour). it's clear how much dan has grown and how much he's learned about himself and his relationship with his audience through hiatus and wad, so it also just makes sense that after wad he was much more open to bringing back dapg

and i dont think they fully started hardcore planning the tour before dapg cb. like dan said, they were considering the idea, and then they brought back the channel, and then after seeing how good the reception was, decided to truly go ahead with tour, which isnt too different from what they've said recently in promoting the tour. they just didnt previously mention phil was floating the idea of the tour earlier, which to me, is neither here nor there, since in all these promo instances, they were just giving a summary of their thought process leading up to the tour, not like a Full Detailed Story, and i dont think they were purposely trying to Hide anything, otherwise they wouldn't have given us more info yesterday

[milkybonya]

slip ☆ big naughty

order 070, anon: large taro milk tea with banana tapioca pearls, pudding, and regular tapioca pearls for big naughty

! : suggestive (kissing/making out), swear words/explicit language, a lot of bickering, kind of cliché and fast paced

# : enemies to friends to lovers, fake dating, academic rivals, big naughty (Seo Donghyun x gn reader, ft. bestie Haon

[💌: yes i keep using old photos of bigna because he looks cuddly n sof and what about it !!!! also my fav song from hopeless romantic is papillon. and why is he going to so many festivals pls do a world tour sir we're waiting]

"oh, fuck off y/n," Donghyun snaps.

"i literally just want to sit in my seat," you say, pointing to your spot that Donghyun is sitting in.

he scowls at you and sticks his tongue out, turning back to his friends.

"what the fuck is your problem?" you sigh. "why can't i just sit in my seat?"

"your mom," he replies, laughing with his friends.

you groan and sit in his spot instead. he watches you carefully, trying to find more things he can pick on you about.

"what did you get on last week's assignment?" he asks.

"your mom," you reply with a smirk, proud of your retaliation.

"touché," replies Donghyun. "well, i got 99%."

"i got 100 so suck it," you say, turning back to him and sticking your tongue out.

you hear someone laugh and recognize it immediately as your friend, Haon. he walks into class and sits in his spot usually next to you, but currently taken by Donghyun.

"suck it fr, Donghyun," Haon says, opening his books.

"shut up, you can barely even pass half the time," Donghyun whines.

you burst out laughing and Donghyun smiles to himself.

the two of you are sworn enemies, academic rivals.

"but you guys enjoy this, don't you?" Haon asks you as he eats his lunch with you in the cafeteria.

you shake your head.

"he's so annoying, i can't stand him. he's literally so dumb and immature."

Haon shrugs, continuing to eat.

-

that week in class, a new assignment is announced. you're ready to do research and present the best ppt ever... until they say it's a creative project... and a group project, too. a group project in pairs. assigned pairs.

"i'm placing the two rivals in this class together because i'm sure if you actually work together, you can get something spectacular done," your teacher explains.

all eyes on the class turn to you and Donghyun. you can see Haon laughing somewhere within your peripheral vision as you try to look straight ahead.

"y/n and Donghyun, you'll be the first group to present. come take your assignment sheet."

you look back to see Donghyun rolling his eyes and sighing, exaggerating his every move and sound. so, you get up and fetch the sheet yourself.

everyone gets 10 minutes to read the assignment over before the class continues, and you drag your seat to Donghyun's desk so you can both read it over.

"this is so dumb," Donghyun sighs.

"i.. think it's quite fun, actually! we're given a lot of freedom for the presentation.. what should we do?!" you ask.

"i say we write a song. i know a thing or two about music. and you can come to my place; i have the equipment," Donghyun quickly explains while looking down at his phone.

you sigh. this is going to be tough.

-

Donghyun's house is big, clean, and extremely organized. you look around like a tourist at a foreign museum, taking in everything and also trying to find any baby photos of Donghyun to use as blackmail. you find his class president promo poster on the door of his room and immediately take a photo.

"everyone's already seen that. it won't do much for you," he says nonchalantly, making you jump as he walks from behind you into his room and onto his bed.

"let's go to my studio; it's easier to work there," he says with a smirk.

deep down, he's excited. he's excited for you to see the studio and feel shocked. he's excited to show you that he's more than just a bookworm. why is he excited? he doesn't know.. well.. because he gets to show off and one-up you, right?!

you follow behind him, imagining his studio as a tiny closet with a cheap mic, but you're suprised to find a soundproofed room filled with art, a weird toilet-chair, and a setup that looks like it belongs to a producer.

"wha--?" your jaw is dropped as you look around.

Donghyun's face is burning up, your shocked face makes him feel so proud he could die right now and die happy.

"Donghyun, this is all yours?" you ask.

"yeah, it's whatever. anyways, come sit. let's figure out what we want to do," he says as he sits in his chair, leaning back and turning on the desktop.

it takes a while for you to come up with ideas because you're still so in shock, but eventually, the two of you come up with the bare bones draft of a song. by then, it's pretty late and you decide you should go home.

right as Donghyun is sending you off at the door, his mom walks in.

"oh, hey Donghyun! i'm home.. who is this? a friend from school?"

"i'm y/n, Donghyun's classmate. we were just working on a project together," you say with a smile.

Donghyun's mom smiles back and nods, saying goodbye to you along with his son who glares at you as you leave.

"what kind of classmate do you glare at as they leave, huh Donghyun?" his mom asks him once you're gone.

"a classmate i hate."

-

back in class the next day, you excitedly race to Donghyun to talk about the song you've made.

"i was thinking about it all night! i have so many ideas now... we can incorporate some of our favourite poets' work into the song.. we can also sample some classical artists because we're gonna talk about how copyrighting and stuff is a blurry line, right?!" you ramble on.

"excuse me, do i know you?" Donghyun asks, trying to glare at you but breaking out into a laugh.

his laughter makes you crack up, and you don't notice Haon staring at you. the classroom's biggest rivals are suddenly laughing together?

you spend all of lunch talking about the song with Donghyun, and you go back to his place that night to work on the song again. his mom brings you fruits and wishes you luck as the two of you keep getting more and more ideas for the song.

"what about a music video?!" you suggest.

"let's make Haon the villain," Donghyun jokes.

"hey, hey.. don't bring my friend into this!"

-

the next day, you use your lunch period to film the music video. at this point, all sorts of rumours are spreading throughout the school. most of them involve you and Donghyun dating.

"i heard from someone that you went over to his house and spent the whole night making out with him instead of studying. what do you have to say for yourself, y/n?!" Haon asks you before a class begins.

"they can all fuck off. everyone will see when we present that we've actually been working hard," you explain.

-

at Donghyun's place, the two of you meet to add the final touches to the song and music video. you're so invested on fixing up a specific scene that Donghyun speaking makes you jump.

"don't you think it's so dumb that everyone thinks we're dating," he says.

you raise your brows at him while your heartrate returns to normal. "you heard it too?"

he nods, running his fingers through his soft, dark locks.

"yeah," you agree with a scoff, "it's really dumb."

"what if we fake date to make them think they're right and then a week later or something tell everyone ha we were just pranking!" Donghyun explains with a toothy grin, his hair falling back into his face.

"huh? w-why would we do that?"

Donghyun shrugs. "because it's fun."

you don't see the fun in any of this.

"okay, if you agree to fake date me, i'll... purposely fail the next test."

you perk up at the sound of that and Donghyun smirks.

"deal, then?"

"no... what would fake-dating entail?" you ask, leaning back in your chair next to Donghyun.

he presses the keys on his keyboard as he speaks. "acting like a couple but not actually being a couple?"

"okay, i know that much, but are we talking full pda or--"

💌: (pda means public display of affection, things like holding hands, kissing, etc that a couple does!)

"gross!" Donghyun yelps, pushing you and covering his face as it turns pink.

"get your head out the gutter! we'll just go with the flow, nothing too wild," he explains, pushing the hair out of his eyes.

you find yourself agreeing and the next morning, the day of your presentation, Donghyun is at your front door.

"Donghyun?" you ask, shocked.

"we're dating, aren't we? so let me walk you to school," he says, slipping his hand into yours.

"fake dating," you clarify as you lock the door.

"well.. anyways, all ready for the presentation today?" he asks, pushing his glasses up with his free hand. he grins at you; a small, curious grin.

"yep! i'm so excited... i think the reactions will be legendary," you say.

you both try to ignore the butterflies you feel each time you look at your interlocked fingers.

-

"they're holding hands?"

"i told you they're dating!"

"is it a prank?"

"y/n just wants to make Haon jealous."

the whispers start the second you and Donghyun enter the school grounds while holding hands, and they don't stop.

Haon races up to you in class once you're in your seat, demanding answers.

"i haven't seen you in a week and you say it's because of this project and now you're holding hands with your sworn enemy?!"

you shrug in response and he sighs.

looking back at Donghyun, you find he was already looking at you. quickly, he looks away, his cheeks red.

"okay, class. let's start the presentations! Haon and Seunghoon can go first," the teacher says.

you watch your best friend sigh as he stands, shuffling over to the front. you cheer him on and watch eagerly as he presents, but you're also nervous for your turn.

well, you don't even have time to be nervous! you're up next!!

the class murmurs as you both walk up and Donghyun smiles at you, lovingly? you can't tell if he's putting on the fake dating act or if his small smile and warm eyes are genuinely shooting out love hearts for you.

you shrug it off and focus on the presentation. luckily, you and Donghyun both present without any mistakes, and both the class and teacher love it!

"i knew something good would come out of pairing you both together!" the teacher says.

after the class, so many people come up to you both with questions about the song. Haon jokingly tells everyone that no paparazzi is allowed.

"move back!" he shouts, gently pushing the students away.

while Haon is unknowingly distracting them, Donghyun whispers into your ear.

"on the count of three, let's run."

"one." he smiles at you.

"two." he takes your hand.

"three!" he pulls you towards him as he sprints out of the class and you trail behind him.

your laughter echoes through the halls as you both stop in an empty classroom to catch your breaths.

"why?!" you ask Donghyun, who shrugs his shoulders.

"this is so much better," he says, panting while smiling.

"agreed," you reply.

there's an awkward silence between you both and you look around the classroom, not noticing Donghyun's eyes on you.

"can i kiss you?" he suddenly asks.

"huh?!" you whip your head around.

Donghyun's eyes are sparkling. he's serious, genuinely meant the question he asked.

"yes," you reply, knowing you mean it but not knowing why.

before you can try to find out, Donghyun is pressing his lips to yours and cupping your cheeks. his kiss is warm, and soft. you see stars; you feel butterflies like never before. he's practically taking you to heaven but brings you back down the second he pulls away.

"i-i'm sorry," he says, sheepishly, looking ashamed but cute with his cheeks all rosy.

"no. i wanted to," you say, reaching for his hand.

why are you reaching for his hand? your body is acting on instincts that you aren't even aware of.

you hear a low whistle from outside the classroom.

"so this is where you ran off to?" Haon asks, stepping into the class.

you quickly let go of Donghyun's hands.

"you have a lot of explaining to do, y/n," Haon tells you.

-

an hour spent at a café with Haon and he's had his jaw dropped the whole time as you've been talking.

"okay and so basically now you both kissed and you're wondering if you have real feelings for him?" Haon asks.

you slowly nod, taking a sip of your drink. your friend shakes his head at you, smirking.

"you fucking idiot. you've had feelings for him this whole time and haven't known! just date him for real already," Haon says.

"it isn't that easy! who knows how he feels about me," you point out.

Haon laughs, "he asked if he could kiss you. you don't think he likes you?"

your phone vibrates on the table. Donghyun's caller id flashes on the screen.

"answer it," Haon says. "i bet he wants to confess."

"hello?" you speak into your phone, stepping outside of the café so you can hear better.

"hey.. you're not busy, are you?" Donghyun asks in a small voice.

you look back at Haon. "no, why?"

"about what happened today.. i want to say that i don't regret it. i wanted that.. and i still want it.,"

"what do you mean?" you ask.

"i like you, y/n. for real. let's date.. for real?" he asks.

"you idiot. why aren't you telling me this in person," you joke.

"because i'm shy. answer me first," he whines.

you laugh, telling him that you feel the same.

"everything is happening so fast," you say.

"you're right, but let's not waste any more time. do you wanna come over?" Donghyun asks.

Haon looks up moments later to find you rushing in to grab your things.

"i'm so sorry Haon, i've gotta go," you say.

"just go. go to him," Haon says, sipping on his drink.

-

at Donghyun's house, his mom invites you in and you walk straight to his studio. the second you knock on his door, he opens it. clearly, he's been waiting.

and he wastes no time before he pins you to the door and his lips crash onto yours, tenderly melting against you as his hands slowly come down to wrap around your waist. he sighs in relief as your cool hands cup his warm cheeks, pulling him closer.

"was that okay?" he whispers after he pulls away.

"yes.. we like each other and we're dating now, right?" you ask.

Donghyun shyly nods. he takes you by the hand toward his chair, inviting you into his lap after he first takes a seat.

"wanna watch a movie with me?" he asks.

-

in class the next day, the two of you act as normal... as normal as a couple who were enemies before, then fake dated and are now dating for real could act.

people still don't know if your relationship is real or not, and some snobby popular girl comes all the way to your class from hers just to find out.

"it's real.. right? Donghyun, you wouldn't be dating your rival.. right? c'mon, i know you like me--"

she's cut off by the sound of your boyfriend scoffing.

"excuse me? like you? who even are you?" Donghyun asks, not even looking at the girl but instead focusing on drawing circles on the back of your hand as he holds it in his.

the girl is dumbfounded and storms away. you look at Donghyun, surprised that he stood up for you. he kisses your nose and giggles.

"i have to get used to this," you say.

"used to what?"

"you defending me for a change."

Donghyun shakes his head at you.

"get to your spots, everyone! we have a test today," the teacher says.

you look back at Donghyun before going to your desk, and he throws you a wink.

it's after class that you realize why--he kept his promise. he purposely failed his test because you agreed to fake date him.

"why would you do that, though? we stopped fake dating," you explain during lunch.

"but you still agreed, and a deal is a deal," he says with a small smile.

-

that night, you go to Donghyun's house again. in the studio, you recount the events that happened with that dumb popular girl and how Donghyun failed a test for the first time. you both laugh your heads off until a long silence prompts you to speak again.

you kneel down so you're eye-level with your boyfriend as you say, "Donghyun, you did really well today. i'm so proud of you. you did so much for me.. i don't deserve it."

"can i kiss you?" he suddenly asks without hesitation.

as soon as you nod yes, he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, below your lips and above your chin. his touch as he gently caresses your cheek with his thumb is warm and soft. when he pulls away, even though you weren't kissing him, you miss the feeling of his lips on you.

his eyelids flutter open and he stares at you with stars on his eyes, his cheeks dusted red.

you unconsciously whine and pout, wanting to kiss him, making Donghyun break into a smile.

"you missed," you say, pointing to your lips.

"you're crazy," he tells you, but he still kisses you for real this time and butterflies rage within you as he pulls you onto his lap. it feels like you're melting onto his chest as one of his hands hold the back of your neck and the other your back.

Donghyun's phone starts vibrating on his desk but he pays it no mind, fully focusing on his racing heart and how sweet you taste, how warm you are to hold and how much he loves you.

he tells you this, breathes and mumbles it against your lips and you have to hold onto him because you feel so weak.

"D-Donghyun i can't.. i need a break.. my heart is exploding," you stutter.

he holds your waist and lets you lean back, admiring you.

"you don't think my heart also feels like there's warfare happening in there?" he asks with a toothy grin.

"i hate you," you say while smiling.

"oh? why are you sitting in my lap then?"

"fuck off."

"did you mean 'fuck me' instead? cause i will--"

"SHUT UP!" you shout, standing up.

Donghyun is a laughing mess, clapping his hands together and gasping for air.

"i'm sorry," he says with a smile, reaching for your hand as you jokingly turn your back to him.

[himbos-hotline]

you were a good person once. i looked up to you.

for Kenny/Hangman

We made our peace with weariness and let it be.

Word count: 2267 words Ship: "Hangman" Adam Page/Kenny Omega Characters: Kenny Omega, "Hangman" Adam Page, Mentioned BCC, Mentioned Young Bucks and Brandon Cutler Triggers: Crying, Brief panic attack, Kenny is very self-guilty, men fighting, The ghost of Don Callis, The ghost of Kota Ibushi Authors note: So I am still thinking about the dynimite where Hangman stole an ambulance to save Kenny so like...Yes I am ignoring the BTE right afterwards so shhh.

read on AO3

Wood cracks against the floor, sending blue slivers scattering across the polished linoleum backstage. Adam paces across the wooden chips, barely listening to the crackling under his feet. Fury licks at his temples, making his head ache. He wants a rink and some pain meds. He wants to sleep until Don Callis is nothing more than a few rotting bones buried in a rotten casket. It’s an evil thought, one that Adam almost hears whispered in Kenny’s voice, like it's a line from an misdirected promo that Adam wasn’t truly meant to hear.

He turns on the balls of his feet, fury making his legs tremble and his hands clenched into angry fists at his sides, he smacks his shoulder against the wall and that's when Adam chooses to give up. His chest is fluttering with every heavy breath and as he slides his back down the chipped brickwood, he smacks the back of his head against the wall. With his eyes closed Adam knows he’s a prime target for the Blackpool Combat Club but Mox and his gang of wannabe miscreants are the least of Adam’s worries right now. He doesn’t care if he’s the mouse in the trap or the cheese in the cage, he’s tired and he has to remind himself to breathe.

Breathe; nice and slow, in and out, a constant slow stream. In, hold, out. Just like his therapist had told him. In his mind he pictures waves washing up on a cloudy shoreline and he pictures the seafoam, bubbling around his ankles like Possidens kisses.

There's a distant echoing of footsteps that bounce around his brain and Adam’s eyebrows crease in annoyance. He wants a moment's peace and if he’s going to get jumped by the BCC, Regal must have never taught them the element of surprise.He presses his teeth together, pressing his jaws together so hard that his teeth feel like they're cracking under the pressure. He breathes through the pain, letting the pressure drop as the footsteps stop. He feels like he’s being watched, someone staring down at the crown of his head. Adam shifts and someone's hand falls onto his shoulder. Heavy and familiar and it burns. It burns like ashes from a fireplace or cigarette smoke first thing in the morning.

Breathe. He tells himself. Breathe through the pain. Breathe until the devilish puppet on his shoulder disappears back to its puppeteer strings.

In.

“Hangman?”

Hold.

“Hanger.”

Out.

“Adam.” His name comes out with a sigh and it hits his ears like chilly winter air. His eyes snap open and for a few moments, Adam’s eyelashes flutter in the darkness. Bile washes up his throat, coating his teeth with anger as he forces green eyes to stare dead ahead. He purposely doesn’t look at Kenny, not even from the corner of his eyes. He treats Kenny like a hallucination instead of something real; something that will disappear if Adam doesn’t pay attention to it anymore. He silently wills Kenny to get the message and leave Adam alone, surrounded by broken bits of wood and rusted nails and anger.

The hand on his shoulder drops and a breath that Adam didn’t know he was holding explodes past his lips in a sigh.

“Look at me.” Kenny’s voice borders on angry and the tone sparks at the fury that's half-settled at the bottom of Adam’s stomach. He loosens his grip on his jeans, pulling his knees slowly up to his chest. Adam blinks at the wall in front of him, stares at the nail embedded in the wall before letting his eyes close. Maybe he’s being stupid and childish and petty, doing the opposite of what Kenny’s telling him to do. But he doesn’t belong to Kenny anymore. Maybe he never did. Maybe the Kenny who cradled his face and pressed kisses to the inside side of his thighs was the same Kenny who signed the contract in blood and pushed Adam’s face into spilt liquor so hard that Adam could only find himself in the amber liquid.

Maybe the Kenny that had any chance of loving him was still in DDT pro-wrestling; all bright eyes and soft blond curls. Maybe the only Kenny capable of love is the one that’s held in Kota Ibushi’s soul.

“Adam.”

“Leave me alone.” His own voice feels rough; hissed between gritting teeth and he barely stomachs a glance at Kenny. He’s still dressed in his ring gear, a band aid across his forehead and ring tape trailing down the curve of his neck, down his shoulder. Kenny is hurt and Adam thinks that’s a good thing. Kenny is hurt and Adam feels guilty for being guiltless.

Kenny’s knees crack as he sits down besides Adam and that makes Adam feel a little bit more like a caged animal because Kenny is staring at him with the same gloriously blue eyes he stared at him with before. The soft, almost doe-like expression when he wants Adam to do something. When he needs Adam to do something. “Adam..?”

“Stop calling me that.” Adam whips his head around, fast enough that it makes his brain feel a little oxygen deprived. His shoulder bumps against Kenny’s and it’s only then does Adam’s brain really register how close the older man is to him. Their noses could press together if Adam angled his chin downwards, just a little.

Kenny raises an eyebrow almost like he’s urging Adam on; poking at the fire he sees twirling around Adam’s pin-point pupils. “Why?” Kenny asks and Adam feels like they’ve stopped talking about his name. “Why did you hurt Don?” For a few moments, Adam blinks at his reflection in Kenny’s eyes, watching his eyes flicker like he’s searching for the answer. Kenny sounds sad. Like Callis isn’t the one that paid off the BCC to hurt the Bucks. Like he isn’t the reason why Matt and Nick are currently curled up in separate hospital rooms, staring at empty walls.

Adam drops his stare first, turning to look back at the floor. He picks at invisible splotches on his jeans. “Why can’t you see what he’s doing to you?” His palms smooth over his thighs and Kenny pulls back, blinking heavily like Adam’s just slapped him. Adam’s hands itch with the want to hit him.

“What?” Kenny answers with an intake of breath, running his hand across the nape of his neck. “Don is family… he-”

“WE are family!” Adam snaps, roaring up onto his knees. His voice is louder than what he expected it to be. But Kenny is so deep into the spider's web, Adam can almost see the silky,white lines of control wrapping around Kenny’s throat like a noose. “Matt is your family. Nick is your family! Fuck Brandon and Nak and..And I’m your family!” His anger makes him stand, towering over Kenny like a wild animal over wounded prey. “Why cant ya fucking see that?!”

Adam shovers Kenny’s bad shoulder into the wall, sending his head careening into the chipped paintwork. For a few seconds, Kenny just blinks cluelessly before he shoves himself forward, Adam can taste the mint chewing gum on Kenny’s breath as he growls into the small amount of space between the two of them. Kenny’s hands are wrapped around the lapels of Adam’s leather jacket; his eyes are a furious blue and he’s heaving in heavy, furious breaths.

“What are you gonna do huh Kenny? Hit me? Is that what Don’s told you to do huh? To come find me and fight for his honor because he’s too fucked up to-”

Kenny’s lips are warm against Adam’s; warm and furious and Adam feels his brain short circuits. His eyes flick around the darkened corridor before falling on Kenny’s face; eyes all screwed up closed and his hands white-knuckled against his jacket. “Kiss me asshole.” Kenny mumbles against Adam’s still lips, voice so quiet that it sounds like hes begging.

Adam thrashes his head once he registers what happens, hard enough to smack his forehead against Kenny’s. “I-what-I no!” He takes a step back, feels splinters pierce through the heels of his boots. “No..Kenny I..I can’t.” He rubs his hands down the front of his jacket, using his wrists to knock Kenny’s hands away. “I’m not going to kiss you.”

Kenny looks hurt. He has the audacity to look hurt. His hands hover like he’s going to try to grab at Adam again before they drop, swinging at his sides. “He’s family Adam…He’s the only family I have..” Kenny coughs slightly, lets his eyes float to stare at the floor and Adam scrubs a hand over his face.

He still smells like hospital-grade hand sanitizer. “What about Matt? And Nick? They’re your family Kenny..They-.. They love you.”

“Do they?” The question takes Adam by surprise. He blinks at Kenny, tries to read his distant expression. It’s a fact that everyone knows whenever they look at the Elite; the group is one where love runs deepest. Saying that Matt and Nick don’t love Kenny is like saying the clouds don’t produce rain; stupid and easily refutable. It’s a fact engranded in wrestling, in existence, in the very foundations of life. “Does anyone love me?”

Adam paused. The question knocks all semblance of anger out of his body; his shoulders sag and he carefully blinks at Kenny, watching his eyebrows flit between creased and smoothed out as he blinks, quicker and quicker. Tears well in the corner of Kenny’s eyes and Adam finally taps into the corner of his heart that he’s kept locked away for over two years. He wraps his arms slowly around Kenny’s middle and sighs when his head tucks snugly under his chin.

It's almost like they match; two chipped puzzle pieces made to fit together through hurt and damage. Adam lets Kenny hide his face in his shoulder, rubbing his back as he feels the smaller man tremble against his chest. He hates seeing anyone cry but it’s always been different with Kenny; his tears feel like rusted swords digging into Adam’s skin. “Hey, shhh. So many people love ya Kenny.” He whispers into Kenny's curls, using his fingers to separate the two different tones. Kenny’s ring-worn nails drag softly across his scalp and Kenny makes a soft sound, almost like a thank you . Adam keeps talking, words dripping like a broken faucet into Kenny’s soft curls.

“You’re so funny and kind and soft with animals. What ain’t there to love huh?” The question is rhetorical, carrying a deeper meaning than what Adam means, but Kenny raises watery eyes from his shoulder and sniffles. “I’m not a good person..I hurt people.”

“You don’t…something in you does..something that you can’t control. Ya can’t he-”

“But I can fix it.” Kenny sounds so determined. So stubborn that Adam nearly pays attention to the pressure growing just behind his eyes. “Right? And then I can be a good person again…and…”

“Kenneth.” Adam cradles his face in his hands, using his ring-scuffed nails to push the tears off Kenny’s reddened cheeks. “You don't need to fix anythin’ about you. I know that…you know that.”

“But…”

“Yeah you were a good person. Once. I usedta be a good person too..people change an’ you can't fix that. You can’t stop people changing and sometimes you never get that person y’looking for back and it hurts and it sucks to all hell. But people will always love every version of you. Of me.. Of everyone.”

Kenny blinks for a few moments before he slowly tilts his head, leaning his cheek against Adam's palm; his skin is tacky and warm and Adam can barely hold back anymore. His lips graze against the band aid across Kenny’s forehead, nose pressing into a scar on his hairline and he doesn’t expect Kenny to stay. But he does. Kenny leans deeper into Adam's twitching fingers and lets his eyes settle closed.

“I looked up to you. Know that?” Kenny whispers a little while later. He’s got his head leaded against Adam’s shoulder, picking splinters out of the leather of Adam’s cowboy boots, rubbing at his thighs, laying across his lap. Adam looks up from his phone, raises his eyebrows in slight surprise. “Yeah.”

“Why?” Adam doesn’t mean to prompt more conversation, but the small smile that grace Kenny’s is enough to make him sit up and pull Kenny to sit in his lap, letting him fall into his shoulder blade. He’s always known Kenny gets clingy after an explosion of emotions and for a few moments, he lets himself become soft again towards him.

They always used to be so soft to one another. Maybe they could be again…eventually.

“You’re so full of love. For everything..” Kenny whispers, fingers tapping an incomprehensible rhythm out on the back of Adam’s jacket. “You love with everything you have..doesn’t it scare you?”

Adam presses a kiss to his temple, stroking his hand down the dip of Kenny’s spine. “Sometimes. Fear never stopped us before.”

“You’re right.”

Kenny looks like he’s going to say something else, his lips part slightly but Adam’s phone starts vibrating against the floor, country music blaring out the speaker and Kenny can’t help the small squeaking laugh that explodes past his lips.

“It's a good song!” Adam mumbles, bottom lip jutting out slightly as he scans through the text messages from Brandon. “You wanna come with me to pick up the Bucks from the hospital? Brandon says they’re high as kites.”

“Yeah. You should also return the ambulance..”

“Yeah..”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

@smallestsnarkestgirl @skyqueen3 @josiewrites @itsnoosetome @jacedoe

@golden-disaster @sincyrlee @glitchaxolol @daddywrasslin @bikenny

@katries @thegizardofmars @motorcitygem @miru-has-thoughts @powderflower

@miserablecreachur @afterdarkprincess @mobiblackout @pinksuperkliq @harvey-dent

@thekadster

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Screaming, deceiving, and bleeding for you and you still won't hear me (Raven x Stevie X fem!Reader) Chapter 2

A/N: Second chapter is here. Thank you so much for everyone who supported me <3 

A big thanks to @aritamargarita​ @average-nash-enjoyer​ @x-s-t-i-t-c-h-e-s-x​ and @evenflowddts​ for giving me the confidence, love ya <3

Whoever said time heals all wounds was lying, or at least that was your opinion about it. Having to see Raven at work didn’t become easier, even if he seemed to be the one avoiding you two more times than you did with him. Was it a way to manipulate you? Maybe, but it drove you crazy nonetheless.

You felt that hiding in your beat up car was pathetic, yet it was not like you had any other opinions if you didn’t want to break down in front of your colleagues. Whenever you closed your eyes you kept seeing Raven in that alley, your stomach would turn into knots and you would start to have chills, it was a constant reminder of how you were never safe.

Stevie was in your same situation but he always plastered a smile on his face, making you forget all your problems just for a minute. You felt sick at the idea that your worries were poisoning him because it sounded like a Raven’s plan and you were carrying on with it.

“You think I’ll be gone if you walk out that door? Go ahead and try!”

The words dug like knives in your heart, making your blood boil. You wanted to punch him and scream but instead you were just drained, everything was too much which made you question if it was even worth fighting.

A loud bang on your windshield made you jump in fear. You quickly turned your head around only to see Sandman, with his usual cigarette in his mouth, signaling you to roll the window down.

“Are you trapped in the car?” He asked, a puff of smoke hitting you in your face.

“No. What are you doing here? Trying to make my car smell like a cheap nightclub bathroom?” You replied.

He laughed at you. “I need to talk to you, maybe the smoke can help clear your mind.”

You rolled your eyes but deep inside his words made your stomach twist. Sandman wasn’t the kind of guy to talk unless it was necessary.

“It’s about him, isn’t it? Did he do or say something?” You didn’t even try to hide the concern in your voice, which was a wrong move.

He puffed again in your face. “You still care too much.”

“Are you punishing me for asking? Just say what’s going on already!” You felt your face heating up.

 “You and Stevie have a promo with him later, he has to confront you about the betrayal. If it was a storyline before, now it's real shit.” 

Your breath stopped in your throat for a second. You hoped you had more time however life had planned to kick you down, what a classic!

“Why are you telling me this?”Your voice was shaking. 

“Because you have two options: forgetting about him or staying with him but not letting the asshole walk all over you.” 

You suppressed the urge to laugh, Sandman made it so easy but he had no idea about the chaos, the headaches and hurt. Leaving Raven was supposed to be so easy but only the thought made blood freeze. 

If it hurts me, why do I want him? 

“I am not talking to him anymore. Me and Stevie walked away.” Hesitation slipped through your words. Who were you trying to convince? 

“However, he still controls ya. And if you let him have this kind of power over you, he will bring you and your lover boy down to hell again. Think about it during your promo.” He finished his cigarette and then he was walking away. 

You throw your head in your hands, feeling your temples pulsating. At this point you were completely lost and seriously considering just not showing up, after all your nausea was growing so much you were afraid to throw up in the ring. 

But that way you would have played Raven's game, you would have shown him that you couldn't confront him and probably Stevie would have worried to death. Taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the mirror and tried to smile. 

“Fuck you, Raven!” You whispered, getting out of the car. 

—

A mix of cheers and boos welcomed you walking down the ramp next to Stevie. It didn’t really surprise you because for every guy who wanted to see Raven’s ass kicked, there was another who hated Stevie’s goofiness and saw you two as traitors. If only they knew what was happening behind the curtains.

Raven was sitting in his usual ring corner, his face was masked by his hair yet you could feel his eyes burning your skin. The segment was set to be a back and forth, a fallout that would lead up to a feud, your job was pretty much to take a bump and support Stevie. It was irrational to fear for your life but you could never be sure with Raven, especially when you haven't seen him properly since the night club. 

“What do you want, Raven?” You started, pronouncing his name with disgust. 

“Me? Nothing. But what do you two want? What's next for Y/N and Stevie Richards?” His mocking tone made your blood boil. It didn't matter it was supposed to be “fake”, you felt like he really meant to bash you two. He still thought he had power over you, which only made you want to punch him. 

“I know what you are trying to do. You think you can still get in our heads, well there's no fucking way!” The crowd erupted into a surprise cheer for Stevie standing up, which made it really hard to suppress a smile. 

“After everything I have given you, after everything I shared with you, that's how I get repaid? That's the thanks I get for saving you two?”

Saving. There was a time where you really thought Raven was a savior, when he seemed better than anyone and anything else. But soon it turned into a twisted game of manipulation, where the more you stayed with him and the less you were yourself, only Stevie was your dim light at the end of the tunnel. 

“Saving? How that's you call the beatings and the anger? The only thing that was saved was your sorry ass everytime me and Stevie sacrificed ourselves, without us you wouldn't even have that belt on your waist!” You gripped the microphone in your hand, preventing it from shaking. 

You knew Paul wanted a raw and honest promo, both parties knew what the other would say yet you felt like poking the bear. Cocky Raven would have never enjoyed being reminded that he used people to get to the top, he never wanted to appear weak. Choosing to do this meant bruising his ego, even if it was scripted. 

“I shared my brain, I shared my psychology, I even shared my house when you didn't have a place to stay. If you are here it's because of me!” He stood up, making your body paralyze before Stevie promptly shielded you. 

It’s part of the script. He can't hurt you or Stevie more because there will be consequences. You tried to reassure yourself. 

“Yeah, you also shared your pain, shared your anger, made us relieve something we weren't meant to : your childhood. You can say all those things but I am no longer your lackey, I no longer second to you. I stand with Y/N now.”

Raven walked even closer to Stevie. Adrenaline was rushing in your system as you recognized the moment where Stevie was supposed to be hit, leaving you alone and defenseless. However, Raven brought his mic to his mouth again. 

“You know, I expected it from Stevie but Y/N, that was a surprise. After all, I thought you were going to show a little more gratitude after I saved your ass from the street after yet another fight with your ex boyfriend!” The crowd gasped while your eyes widened. 

No, no, it couldn't be true. It was not part of the fucking script why was he saying that? Your heart started to beat faster as you felt trapped in the ring, desperately wanting to crawl out. You knew he could go low, but bringing up the darkest period in your life? That was crossing the line even for him. 

As you tried your best to not let any emotion show, you thought about your next move. Probably it was smarter to let Stevie handle the situation but it was personal and the anger twisting your stomach was pushing you to react by stepping in front of him. He wanted to break you, so you had to show him that you knew his little secrets too. 

“You disgust me. I am actually happy I didn't help your pathetic ass getting up when Sandman busted you open, just like I don't regret turning my back on you while you were puking your guts out!” You raised your voice, throwing all the emotions bubbling up inside you on that last sentence. 

Raven's expression shifted, you saw the fire in his eyes as you humiliated him. It scared you, just like your ex did and for a moment you questioned if he would ever take his word back and actually hit you. However when he tugged your arms and hooked them, you know he planted you down with a Evenflow ddt. It didn’t matter how much training and experience you had, taking a bump would always hurt. You were thankful that your face was hidden against the mat because you felt your face becoming wet with tears. Fantastic, just the right moment to let your emotions run wild!

The crowd’s roar gave it away that Stevie was being beaten as part of the plan. You slightly rolled on the mat to get to a better position, surely you couldn’t have a full visual since you were technically “out” but you still wanted to have your eyes on Stevie.

The grip on your throat never lessened since you stepped in the ring, however it somehow got worse as the segment was approaching the end. You know Stevie could handle anything however you felt totally out of control, just waiting for the next shoe to drop. After all if Raven went off script once then he could have done it twice.

“Fuck!” You heard Stevie’s voice scream and suddenly your all attention was on him.

Blood was pouring from his nose, which didn’t seem to look like it was supposed to. Sure, accidents can happen while in the ring but that was done on purpose.

“Raven, stop!” You said, loud enough for him to hear but not the audience.

He seemed to ignore you, keeping punching Stevie’s face. Anger thrummed through your veins because he once again seemed to be the only one in control, making you feeling powerless and desperate for Stevie who was fighting for his leverage.

“You have two options: forgetting about him or staying with him but not letting the asshole walk all over you.”

You weren’t supposed to get up but Raven already fucked things up so why couldn’t you?

Standing up, the crow erupted in cheers as you threw yourself on Raven’s back like a koala. You knew you could only count on the surprise factor, hoping to buy some time for Stevie.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Raven screamed.

“I said leave him alone!” You covered his eyes with your hands, making him momentarily blind.

He tried to take them off but you were holding for dear life, using all the strength in your body. Your face was turning red and your hands were burning under Raven’s pressure, you weren’t going to last for much longer but you were ready to go down with a fight.

“Let her the fuck alone!” Stevie was on his feet now, his nose and mouth covered in blood. “Y/N, be ready to take a bump!” He said, as he kicked Raven in his groin.

You felt yourself leaning forward as Raven knelt for the pain, which prompted you to let him go and actually fell backwards on the mat. The palpitation almost drove your heart out of your chest but before you could think or say anything, Stevie was already picking you up and taking you backstage.

“Stevie, your nose… I am sorry… we need to… Paul will be angry…” Your words were incoherent, fear taking over your system and completely paralyzing you.

“I’m going to be okay. We just need to go to the trainer…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence because the curtains opened again and Raven appeared.

Seconds turned into hours, or so it felt, as you untangled yourself from Stevie and walked straight to Raven. He didn’t move, waiting for you for a small smirk and you felt so good when your hand slapped him across his face making said smirk fall down.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled, only to be met with silence. “Do you have any idea how irresponsible you were?! I knew you were a bastard but stepping as low as doing a shoot? I hope you get fucking fired!” You clutched your fists, your face turning red as you were just waiting for him to say something that would justify another slap to his face. Most times you hated when Raven took the worst of you out, but this time you really wanted to get angry at him without any remorse.

He laughed. A dry, sarcastic laugh that irritated you even more. You dug your nails in your palms, looking around to see if anyone was around but apparently they all decided to stay away from your show beside Stevie who was watching every move you made.

“Me, getting fired? You went off script as much as I did! Who the fuck do you think you are?! I’ll tell you: a sad, pathetic, good for nothing bitch. You only got here because you slept with me and Richards and  you chose the wrong one."

All the rage and the adrenaline just disappeared instead you felt yourself paralyzed by his words. Hell, you knew he could be cruel but you knew he would be this much with you, a part of you always made yourself believe he loved you somehow. 

You felt a pang to your heart, the words died in your throat as you just wanted to scream him to fuck off. Who the hell were you? Well, who the hell was he ! Did he know that you didn’t need him? Did he have any idea how many sacrifices you had to do to be here? Yes, but he didn’t care and that was the whole point.

He would have never cared about you or Stevie, you were only properties.

“What did you just say?” Stevie got closer, standing right in Raven’s face.

“Are you fucking idiot?! I said she’s just a bit…” His words got interrupted by a punch to his face, courtesy of Stevie.

The impact made Raven kneel down, holding his nose in pain and you would lie if you said it didn’t make you so satisfied. Raven seemed to agree with you as he slowly stood up, his mouth turned in a bloody smile and you knew he thought that he was in Stevie’s head he was generating chaos that would lead both of you to your own destruction. Even when he was losing, Raven was still winning. 

Stevie grabbed him by his jacket, slamming against the wall. The noise made you flinch, you should have probably tried to calm him down but you were blocked by your own sadness and fear.

“You are nothing to me anymore. We should have never loved you because you don't deserve love in the first place." Stevie spat.

You waited for screams, punches or just a reaction but Raven didn’t move. Hard as a stone he stayed there looking down at the floor. You could feel the tension building up, slowly reaching the boiling point and you just couldn’t hold the tears anymore. Pure istinct guided you out of the door and  you kept going until you got to your car. Your vision was blurred but you knew for sure that the steps approaching you and the arms surrounding your waist were Stevie’s. You turned around only to hide your face against his chest and bawling your eyes out.

“I can’t do it anymore. What’s even the point? The more we try to get away from him and the more he hurts us!” Your voice broke in a desperate sound.

“Babe… you told me to not give up. We have to keep fighting!”

You raised your head, taking a look at Stevie’s bloody nose and tired eyes and new tears came down.

“I dragged you into this. Look what happened! I am so sorry…” Your words get shushed by Stevie grabbing your chin. 

“No. I am an adult, I can make my own choice and it was to follow you. And do you know why? Because I realized that you actually care about me. Without you I’d be gone, without Raven I’d be free.” Stevie reassured you. 

Moving closer you felt his heartbeat against your ear. For a moment nothing mattered, no emotions were bothering you because you were safe in his arms, just like you felt that night at the club then reality crushed again leaving you breathless. 

“It’s so hard! I thought I would feel better but he makes everything so complicated. And the worst part is… that sometimes I feel like I miss him.” You didn't want to look in Stevie’s eyes, scared to see the disgust on his face. 

“I totally get it, I feel the same way. He is a bastard but sometimes I miss when we used to cuddle all together in hotel rooms.”

You could tell from his tone that he was honest. It didn't matter that you knew he was bad for you, deep down you still loved him or at least your idea of him. There was no magic switch who could turn your heart into stone and freeze your feelings for Raven, you both would have to work through that which was utterly ridiculous in your opinion. 

“Do you think Paul will fire us?” You bit your lip. 

“I have no idea. I think people have done worse things and they are still employed. We will get a lecture, sure. But fired? Not on my watch!” Stevie’s confidence made you crack a small smile.

“I don't know what I would do without this job.” You admitted. 

“We can always go to WCW. Hell, maybe WWF wants us, who knows!” 

“Oh God, that would be funny!”

Silence fell between you, both of your arms were around each other and your head was still leaning against his chest. 

“I know it's bad, but sometimes I wonder if we are doing the right thing.” Everything stopped around you, you could only hear Stevie’s question over and over in your head. 

Are we doing the right thing? 

You stared at Stevie’s face, at his shaky hands and defensive position as you could attack him at any moment. Raven's words replayed in your head in every detail, how they cut your heart and dig into your soul, how you feel completely insulted and busted at the seams. 

That's not what love is supposed to be like. 

“We are doing the right thing.” You said, kissing his lips. “We are saving ourselves.”

[mewtwowarrior]

I want to talk a little about my current favorite Fortnite combination: the Jones Unchained skin and the Xenomorph tail back bling.

It's under a Keep Reading so I can potentially edit and adjust it as I go and add stuff.

I bought the skin because I thought it was neat, and that it looks so much like Chell's outfit from Portal 2.

I love messing around with the Xenomorph tail and putting it on various skins and coming up with AU ideas based on it, so I couldn't resist trying it out with Jones Unchained. And, from there, my imagination took off.

-

I've had several AUs swishing around in my brain, here's the minor ones before I get into the main one:

-Escaped monsterboy experiment/prisoner, may or may not be part Xenomorph and possibly just generic creature

-Variations on things with a female version of Jonesy (her full name is Joan Jones) as a Xenomorph monstergirl

-Female version of Jonesy is part Xenomorph Queen and has the fancy head crest and commands the regular Xenomorphs

-

SO, the current main AU is a little more complicated, because with a little tweaking of vaguely canon things, he could potentially be nearly canon compliant, which is super fun.

First, Agent Jones has visited the world of Alien, possibly on two different occasions. (Likely not and it was just for promo things, but still.)

Twitter version

So, the first promo is audio-only and has Jonesy presumably on the Nostromo. He's having some kind of heartburn issue, which could totally be taken as him having been implanted with a chestburster.

He probably should remember if he was facehugged, but maybe all the reality hopping temporarily scrambled him?

Twitter version

The second promo is a very cool video, presumably from Aliens, where Jonesy rescues Ripley from a group of Xenomorphs.

So, it's possible that this one takes place quite some time after the first promo. He seems to think he's got the wrong place in the first one, so maybe he jumped ahead and picked up Ripley (and apparently a Xenomorph, too, what were you thinking, Jonesy) there.

ANYWAY, there's at least two contact points with the Alien world that he's had, if you take both of these as canon.

My AU mostly uses the first promo, running with the theory that Jonesy got chestbursted.

How did he survive?

I haven't had a chance to read it yet, but supposedly it's revealed in the Marvel/Fortnite crossover comics that he's immortal and possibly hundreds of years old.

I'm not sure of the extent of his immortality, but if we go with nothing can kill him, then he could survive being chestbursted.

If I borrow the plot point of Ripley 8 from Alien Resurrection, who was a clone with Xenomorph DNA, but no monstery features, then there's canon support in Alien for human/Xenomorph hybrids.

SO, he got chestbursted, his immortality protected him from dying, and then when he healed, the residual Xenomorph DNA got mixed in with his own and he became a human/Xenomorph hybrid.

From there, maybe he was captured and locked up, because having a Xenomorph monsterboy agent running around is probably not a super great idea.

Fortnite also revels in AUs of characters, especially Jonesy. In some seasons of Fortnite, there've been multiple completely different Jonesys hanging around. The particular timeline of him going to the Alien world might not quite work with how I think his other AUs came to be BUT it's an AU, so there's loads of wiggle room. And, it doesn't necessarily have to be canon compliant, I just like the challenge of seeing how far I can take it and it still work.

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I commissioned @quesadillawizard to draw Xenomorph monsterboy Jonesy and he posted him here.

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Thank you so much for reading this, I hope you enjoyed it!

[alarrytale]

I know we're not allowed to mention a certain fruit brand but the twitter investigating that happened during that era did open my eyes to the way his team works and make me see him differently and now I question that anything is organic.

Hi, anon!

We can do emojis instead 🍋‍🟩🚲. That promo deal was so blantant and in our face it was like people took their blindfold off to really see everything for what it is for the first time. Even people who usually buy into his stunts. It made them realise how set up and orchestrated everything is, and how hypocritical Harry's annoyance with the paps was. It also made people who thought he was above this kind of cash grab change their minds. It's below him, he looked as desperate as a Z-list celeb. They might actually need the money though, Harry doesn’t. It left people disappointed, but with a new clarity.

It made me think back to other set up pap situations he's been in, if he's got other promo deals that were less blantant that i missed at the time (not counting clothes). The whole SoulCy*le pap series came to mind. We've never seen or heard him visit one since then. It might have been a fad and he jumped on the bandwagon, or he had a promo deal with them. Still, that's better than selling himself for bikes.

No, hardly anything is organic, spontaneous and real anymore. He's such a big name that everything is planned ahead, controlled and executed according to plan. Nothing is a conincidence, everything has a purpose and they have an agenda. He's a puppet and a marketing tool. He can be sold and bought to the highest bidder. Nothing is beneath them it seems. Not even city bikes.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Carolina Moon"

First off, let me say that I know it has been ages, and I am really sorry for that. I sort of lost my muse and my energy - as well as my time to write - there for a bit. I am grateful if you have stuck with me and are ready to see where else this story goes. Finally, FINALLY, I have a new chapter almost edited and proofed and ready to go in the next couple of days, so I thought this week's self-promo might serve as a recap for the story so far to refresh everyone's memory (mine included!) The new chapter should be up in just a day or two, and if all goes well, another by Friday, to then return to my weekly (or closer to it) posting schedule.

In the meantime, I do hope you enjoy this little look back, and I'd love to hear what you think.

Thank you SO MUCH to @eastwesthomeisbest for the gorgeous cover art, and to @xarandomdreamx for being my beta. I am very grateful to you both.

Can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Three: Fresh Starts and Stumbling Blocks

The following morning, Emma rose early to the sun on her face, streaming in warm and bright through the windows where she hadn’t yet hung curtains. A noisy mockingbird called brashly to his mate in the trees outside as she sat up, rubbing her eyes and pushing back the rumpled covers, resolving to go ahead and get an early start on the day. Though her body might still be weary, her mind already seemed fully aware and was running through all that needed doing before Saturday’s anticipated grand opening.

Standing and stretching out the cricks and aches, Emma sighed, shaking her head while she straightened the bed clothes as best she could over her mattress on the floor. It had arrived on time, with the other household items she’d sent with the movers from her apartment in Boston. But the antique brass bedframe she had ordered had yet to arrive. Still, she’d slept in the end, and she had spent so many nights in much worse discomfort, she could make do for the time being with an accepting shrug.

Trailing into the kitchen while yawning, Emma pulled an old terrycloth bathrobe over her oversize tee and shorts, threadbare and comfortably soft with years of washings, as she went. She reached up into the cabinet for her coffee, opened it and took a grateful whiff, before she grabbed a measuring spoon from the drainer to fill the coffeemaker. It was only as the life-giving brew began to percolate that she was startled by the sound of three crisp knocks on her front door, making her jump and jerk her robe more tightly closed as she spun to face it.

Not sure who would be calling on her so early in the morning - and when she had barely been back in town three days - Emma almost didn’t answer the summons at all. Still, she couldn’t help both her curiosity and the concern that someone could genuinely need her. She crossed the worn wooden floor of the simple kitchen and unlocked the door, pulling it open only to catch her breath in surprise at who stood on her porch. Emma couldn’t help stumbling back a step and unconsciously running a hand through her still sleep-rumpled hair, for what little good it did.

What was Cora Jones doing there?!? She cursed herself fruitlessly for wearing her most comfortable, but rattiest, pajamas and robe, and she floundered for something to say. Cora, meanwhile, seemed to only stand taller, an eyebrow arched as she looked down her nose at Emma much like she would something rotten which had been smashed on the bottom of her designer shoes. “Might I come in, Ms. Swan?” the older woman finally deigned to speak in frosty tones. “Unlike some people, I have numerous things to do this morning, and cannot afford to lounge around until noon.”

Emma caught a defensive retort on her tongue, biting it back with painful effort. If it were anyone else, she would have given them a piece of her mind, but this was Rose’s mother. Some small part of her, a skinny, lonely pre-teen who had never known a mother other than the proper Jones matriarch, still ached to prove herself to this woman. Oh, she knew it was impossible. It always had been, even before the awful day that forever altered her world. But deep within, that needy child wanted to please her best friend’s parent, to feel some semblance of a parent’s love for herself, and it would not be completely buried. So she held back speaking at all and simply opened the screen door still separating them, motioning Cora through.

Moving toward the kitchen table, Emma offered coffee and a seat, grateful that though the small piece of furniture was chipped and rickety, it was at least cleared and clean. Looking as if she would rather do almost anything else instead, Cora declined abruptly. “I’ll stand, thank you.”

Emma shrugged wordlessly, trying not to let the clear derision make her shrink. She was right where she was meant to be, intending to lay old demons to rest once and for all. She’d like to make peace with Mrs. Jones as well, but she also knew it wasn’t meant to be, and was not about to be run off. Not now, not after she had waited so long. Instead, she reached up into her cabinet again for a mug for herself, poured coffee into it with as steady a hand as she could manage, and forced herself to wait. Let Cora broach the topic Emma knew she’d come to discuss; she didn’t need to make the woman’s job any easier.

Much as though she had read Emma’s thoughts, the Jones matriarch’s eyes narrowed, and she raised her chin haughtily when she spoke, her voice a whip crack in the taut air of the quiet kitchen. “Let’s not pretend this is a social call. I’m sure you know quite well what I have in mind. It is merely a matter of how difficult you wish to make things.”

Emma merely hummed low in her throat, the slightest nod allowing that she had heard and understood Cora’s words, but still not answering aloud. Inside, she ranted, ‘Me?!? You’re the one making things harder than they have to be!’  But she didn’t give Mrs. Jones the satisfaction of needlessly protesting or taking the bait. She simply met the older woman’s stare head-on and held her tongue, biding her time.

“I do not want you here. Not on our family’s property, not in this town, nowhere near us. I trust you understand that much? Neither my children, nor I, want you around, unearthing painful memories again after all these years. I realize you have already leased space in town for your little shop, ordered merchandise and so forth…. So, Ms. Swan, what will it take?” As calmly as if she were discussing the weather or ordering a latte, Cora Jones withdrew a fine leather checkbook from her designer purse, poised with pen in hand. “Tell me what you need to pack up again and clear out of here, to start over elsewhere, and I’ll make out a check here and now.”

Unbidden temper flared in Emma’s gut suddenly, no matter how she tried to remain unaffected. No matter how far she had come or what she had made of herself, to people like this woman she would never be anything but poor white trash - a mess to be cleared away out of sight. Her presence made them uncomfortable or guilty or angry - she’d never quite decided which. And she was tired of it. She might not have come from anything, and she might not possess some fancy pedigree stretching back generations, but Emma was not nothing; she never had been. Pure, unbreakable steel seemed to fuse her backbone, bringing her voice and fighting spirit to the fore. She wasn’t for sale - not at any price - and it was time that “Her Highness” learned that fact. 

“You must be mistaken, Mrs. Jones,” Emma replied, slow and plain, each syllable as intentional and measured as any of her adversary’s had been. “You seem to think I would consider relocating. Let me be clear: I’m not on the market. You can’t buy me out. You can’t run me off. Not this time. I’m staying.”

If she’d been at all in the mood to laugh, Cora’s perfectly painted mouth gaping open, then snapping shut in stunned disbelief would have been comical. As it was, Emma just kept staring her down, holding firm until the oldest money in Storybrooke had nothing left to do but withdraw. “This isn’t finished, Ms. Swan,” she hissed, her stare sparking dangerously like a match against flint. “You would be better off to take my money and make your way more easily elsewhere.”

Emma followed her to the door, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she watched those classy heels cross the warped board threshold. Anger had restored her nerve and then some as she clipped out, “Well, nothing’s ever been easy in my life. Why should it start now?” Facing off stonily with the woman she had finally, once and for all, given up trying to impress, Emma was determined that this time she would not be the one to crack.

Then, just as Cora stepped off the porch, Emma couldn’t help adding, “And, in case you haven’t noticed, both of your children are grown now. Maybe you should find out what they actually think before trying to speak for them.”

The older woman whirled, but Emma had slammed her door closed, ensuring the final word on the matter. She deflated quickly, falling back against the solid barrier bonelessly and trying to catch her breath, but it felt good to stand up to the woman at long last rather than taking any more judgment she didn’t deserve. She was sure Cora Jones wasn’t finished yet, but she had made up her mind. She was through running.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Despite the upsetting and inauspicious start to her day, by the time early afternoon rolled around, Emma found herself pleasantly puttering about it her shop, humming to herself as she hung pictures in just the right place for best appreciation and then stepping back to take in the overall effect. Things were coming together nicely, and somewhere beneath the anxious concern she wouldn’t be ready in time and the only half-buried dread that no one would come to the opening because it was hers, Emma was beginning to feel proud excitement. She had found a real outlet upon discovering photography in college and had kept it up ever since, developing and honing her knowledge and skill in the art. In the quiet of the dark room and the simple, calm repetition of the developing process, Emma often found the whirling thoughts and visions that screamed inside her head went silent, a rare moment of peace as she worked alone to bring to light the images she had captured. Just as she had told Killian the previous evening, it was the one time she actually found a benefit in her ability to see more beyond the obvious existence on the surface. That she could bring out some aspect or nuance of her subject because of the burden she’d borne all her life was not really any sort of relief, but it felt like some tiny bit of restitution to make up for her trials as she looked around the gallery she was slowly forming, full of moments worth remembering, caught for as long as the pictures might last. She was gradually daring to hope that others as well would wish to glimpse the images she’d brought to life, ones which otherwise might have remained unseen.

She was turning to the back where she kept a small refrigerator to get a pop and take a breather when the bell over her door announced the arrival of a newcomer at her store front. Emma paused at the end of the long counter, turning to look over her shoulder curiously and prepared to greet the guest, but explain that she wasn’t open to customers quite yet. However, something about the young woman she saw standing just inside the door anxiously shuffling her feet and offering Emma a nervous but hopeful smile told her this one wasn’t there to buy framed photographs or picture-taking equipment, but had something else entirely on her mind. 

Rephrasing the speech she’d had ready to deliver, Emma instead offered an encouraging smile of her own and inquired curiously, “Hello, I’m Emma Swan, the owner. How can I help you?”

Upon closer inspection, Emma could see the visitor was quite young, and clearly rather shy as well. She couldn’t be long out of high school, or college at the latest, and she blushed with another quick smile before looking down at her hands, then back up at her to answer. “Hi, I’m Violet Clemens. Fresh out of college actually,” she added with a self-conscious little giggle, “and new in town. I’ll start teaching art at the middle school here in a week or so, but I was wondering if you might need any part-time help here in the meantime. What with moving and student loans and all, I could do with a little extra income.”

Understanding dawned on Emma as the girl continued, and she seemed so genuinely sweet that it was impossible not to grin right back at Violet in welcome as she came forward to shake hands. It would really come in handy to have someone who could focus on manning the register and wrapping up purchases for customers while she focused on book work, restocking, and troubleshooting. Unfortunately, Emma had sunk nearly all she possessed in the move, leasing the space, and procuring the merchandise she hadn’t created herself; it might not be possible to hire on any help until she saw if she could start making back some of her investment.

She told Violet as much gently, making clear that she truly did regret having to be so cautious, but the younger woman easily understood. Nodding sagely, Violet took the disappointment in stride. Glancing out the large front window to the sidewalk, she shrugged good naturedly and gestured toward the large, rather scruffy, dog Emma just then noticed, tied by the leash to the bike rack and lounging on the cement with its tongue lolling contentedly. “It’s alright. Honestly,” she piped up, cheer still evident in her voice. “I knew it was a longshot, dropping in unannounced and all. But Norman and I,” here she beamed at the dog who seemed to sense her affection through the glass as his tail began slapping the sidewalk and his ears perked up, “were taking an afternoon walk, and I couldn’t help but notice your lovely store front - it’s really coming together, you know that, right? And I had to try. I’d love to work somewhere like this.”

As an afterthought, Emma quickly asked before Violet could leave, “I wish I could say for sure I could hire you. You seem like a wonderful fit, and I could use the help. I just need to see how things progress on the business side. Might you have a resume or a card you could leave? Then, if I’m able to hire later, I can call and find out if you’re still interested.”

Violet’s head was already nodding enthusiastically, even before Emma could finish speaking. “Yes, I do! Right here,” she chirped triumphantly, pulling it out of the shoulder bag she carried and then flushing slightly as she smoothed the proffered resume against her leg before handing it over. “I’m glad you’re willing to take a look at it. This will be such an intriguing gallery, and I need something that can fit around my hours at the school once classes are in session. Between you and me, it took nearly every cent I had to get me and Norman here, and it was worth a try to make a little money until my paychecks start coming regularly. But I apologize if it’s a bit rumpled - my partner out there can be a bit of a handful.”

Emma waved off the concern, not in the least bothered about slightly bent paper, and wishing even more that she had a definite opening. She remembered all too well just the spot this young woman was in - and she wasn’t that far removed from her situation even now. Instead, she grinned as they both looked out toward the irresistibly floppy-eared dog who absolutely knew he was being watched and leapt to his feet, tail wagging in excitement.

“He looks like a sweetie though, all the same,” Emma smiled indulgently, feeling a pang in her heart at the memory of all the times she had wished as a kid that she could have a pet of her own, particularly a dog that would have been by her side when she was alone and in need of someone to understand her and lend her comfort.

Violet nodded readily in confirmation, grinning at her dog as if he was hearing and comprehending every word. “Yeah, he really is,” she agreed, turning back to Emma once more. “Sad as it might sound, he’s probably my best friend.”

“It doesn’t sound sad at all to me,” Emma assured, thinking to herself that choosing to depend on such an inherently loyal and devoted creature made perfect sense - especially if one were alone in the world otherwise. Giving Violet Clemens one more hopeful promise that she would call if she was able, Emma began walking with her back to the door, before adding as the girl turned the doorknob and moved to step out. “Thanks again for your interest. If things go well, maybe we’ll see each other again soon.���

She stepped outside into the mild sunshine, turning her face upwards for a moment to drink in its gentle warmth. Then, with a curious nod toward Norman, who was wriggling and writhing with enthusiasm at both his mistress’ return and the proximity of a new friend, Emma hesitated only until the expected indication that it would be just fine before squatting to the dog’s eye level to scratch him behind the soft, velvety ears and accept a sloppy lick across her cheek.

“Norman!” Violet chided, even while giggling at the same time. “Really! You’ve no manners at all, bud. Sorry about that, Ms. Swan.”

Emma chuckled too, not at all put off, and the simple affection that flooded her at the dog’s sweet, uncomplicated reception made her want to wrap her arms around his neck and bury her fingers in his thick ruff of gray fur. “Don’t worry about it,” she assured, stroking the dog’s back and chest several more times before standing again at the protest of her knees and calves. “I pretty much asked for it,” she added good naturedly. “He’s a handsome dog, but unusual looking. What breed is he?”

Violet shrugged unconcernedly, stroking along the top of his head as Norman came to lean against her side, his head nearly even with her hip, and gazed at her with the sort of obvious and complete devotion that only a good dog could muster. “The people I adopted him from had an Irish Wolfhound that guarded their sheep, but they didn’t really know about the father - it wasn’t an intentional litter of puppies.” She gave a playful little “oops” sort of grimace to Emma before gently rubbing under Norman’s furrily bearded chin for a moment, crooning, “You were a bit of a surprise there, weren’t you, Normie?” to the dog. “Anyway, best the vet back home could figure, he’s some sort of wolfhound-shepherd mix. And he may be huge, but I’m pretty glad of it. He’s all bark, but it’s an intimidating one if someone is around who shouldn’t be. I feel a lot safer having him with me, that’s for sure.”

“I’d imagine so,” Emma agreed, nodding her head in easy agreement.

“Well, we’ll let you go for now,” Violet said, unlooping Norman’s leash from the bench and readying to lead the two of them off down the street. “Thank you for your time, and I’ll hope to hear from you, but I’m sure I’ll stop in again once you’re open, either way.” She gave an easy wave, which Emma returned, and then started away along the sidewalk.

Emma turned to reopen the shop’s door and get back to work inside when a strange movement caught her eye, seemingly in the alley between the law offices and the jeweler’s on the opposite side of the street. Squinting in concentration, she tried to focus on the dark blur she was certain had slipped through her peripheral vision mere moments ago, but without any luck. Whoever or whatever she had seen was gone, vanished into the shadow of the narrow space between the buildings, or - more likely - never there at all. Shaking her head, Emma re-entered her own building and returned to her unpacking, pricing, and display efforts, doing her best to put the strange sense of having been watched out of her mind, and to ignore the nervous energy crawling along her skin. There was nothing there, and she was being ridiculous.

Soon, she was swept up in her work again, and the pleasure at seeing the pictures all side by side and ready for viewing at last, the way the whole thing was taking shape, had shoved the anxiety from her gut, letting the warmth of pride and accomplishment take its place. She’d slipped into her own little world to such a degree that when David Nolan charged in a couple hours later, followed by Killian Jones, both of them projecting a sort of restless upset and overflow of adrenaline, she was startled enough to whip around with a surprised exclamation from where she was perched atop a ladder, hanging a large landscape she’d captured. She wobbled slightly at the sudden movement, and Killian was across the room in a blink, steadying the ladder with one hand, the other at the back of her calf - warm, strong fingers clamped around her leg impossible to ignore, and sending all breath whooshing from her lungs even as it restored her balance. The heat and pressure ran tingling all the way up her legs to the juncture of her thighs, feeling like a bubbling of molten lava at her core. Even when she had been deeply committed in a years-long relationship with Neal back in Boston, she’d never felt anything like the burning intensity that gripped her with the mere touch of Killian’s hand.

If the breath of shock that escaped him, his widened blue eyes meeting hers before they darted away, and how he withdrew several steps promptly when she moved to shakily descend the ladder, were any indication, he had felt it too. Emma could feel his gaze still flickering over her back as she turned to David with hands crossed over her chest, trying to gather enough air to speak normally, and asked, “What is going on? You two charged in here like the place was on fire and scared me half to death!”

That was a bit of an exaggeration, but she was trying to lighten the moment and deflect attention from her churning insides and the fact that her body’s reaction to Killian Jones was what truly frightened her most.

David bobbed his head in a sheepish nod of acknowledgement, his tense shoulders dropping only a bit, though he did have the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry about that, Emma. It wasn’t our intention at all. Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Emma immediately caught his tone and the concerned, nervous energy radiating from both of them, even as they saw she was just fine and seemed to try to reel themselves back in. Tilting her head to study David’s face more carefully, she pressed warily, “Alright? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Killian stepped up closer to her side again, clearing his throat as he did, immediately upping Emma’s awareness further with his nearness, though he didn’t speak. David, meanwhile, shifted from one foot to the other restlessly, glancing away from her to meet his friend’s eyes before drawing in a deep breath and answering her question as calmly and succinctly as possible.

“I was notified an hour ago by one of my contacts in the city that Vic Franken - your former foster parent - has broken parole. He was facing five years for possession and reckless endangerment, but plea bargaining and so-called ‘good behavior’ have him up for parole sooner.” David’s tone and the practically audible air quotes in his voice made the huffs of disbelief and derision from both Emma and Killian seem all the more justified. “At any rate,” David continued, leveling his gaze on Emma seriously after a long-suffering sigh, “he’s in the wind, and it’s more than likely he would head this way. He might have been arrested elsewhere, but his last known address was here in Storybrooke, and he tends to return to what he knows. We’ve all borne witness to that pattern over the years.”

The sheriff paused there to both catch his breath and gather his thoughts. His well-muscled arms were crossed over his broad chest, almost looking as if he planned to plant himself right in front of her like some sort of stubborn protective barrier for the foreseeable future. The frown of consternation that marred his naturally open and amiable face completed the look all too well. Emma felt a surge of affection for Nolan at his obvious show of concern, and found herself wanting to ease his worry - even if the idea of her former abuser being on the loose and nearby had made a quivering fear run through her. She wasn’t trapped in a house with Franken anymore, didn’t have to deal with his presence any longer, and she was not about to let the idea of him reappearing rule her mind or emotions.

She gave a cool, measured nod, standing to her full height and making certain to look David right in the eye as well, not flinching for a second, no matter how much she wanted to. Waiting until she was sure there would be no tremor in her voice, Emma offered, “Thank you for letting me know so quickly, David. Truly. Being prepared is about the best defense I can have, as far as I’m concerned. Turning around to find him standing right there would be a hell of an awful shock to the system, but at least now I know to be on my guard.”

She wasn’t oblivious to Killian’s coming to stand just behind her, as if slightly flanking her against an attack, but she resolutely ignored it for the moment, determined to show she could face down the threat before her, regardless of the scars and horrific memories just the mention of Franken’s name brought flooding back. Facing David with fire in her eyes, she added reluctantly, “If he’s smart, he’ll run somewhere other than directly back here where he’s expected and bound to get caught. Still, we all know sensible, intelligent behavior is not the man’s leading characteristic, so I’ll be keeping a wary eye out. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to face him since I ran anyway.”

“What?!” David burst out incredulously.

Just as Killian swung around to face her with a hotly uttered, “Emma, what are you talking about?”

“He found me in Boston,” she shrugged, fighting to hang onto her calm air of nonchalance, even in the face of their volatile emotions. “Several years ago now. Startled me right in the street outside my apartment building - wanting money to stay out of my way and keep leaving me alone, essentially. It wasn’t a hard choice to pay it and have him gone. I was rattled that he was able to track me down, but he left, thankfully… and that was the end of it.”

Killian’s dark brows furrowed intently over his eyes that had grown stormy like a squall amidst the pretty ocean blue. Gently taking her arm to turn her to face him fully, his voice was quietly intense when he argued, “The end of it?! Are you serious, Emma? What are you thinking? He’s a dangerous man, particularly toward you, and you’re acting as though we’ve just told you something as minor as the weather for this evening.”

Emma gave him a cool look, not about to back down or fall apart in front of either of these men who were clearly concerned for her and expecting just that. She might feel as if her stomach was suddenly sloshing around like a sickening bowl of jelly, but she wouldn’t let Vic Franken take any more time from her or waste any of her concern. He’d made her early life a living hell - much more than Killian or David could imagine, whatever they thought they knew. It had taken years for her to stop biting back anything she might have noticed or seen for fear of being punished for her “unholy visions”. She’d looked over her shoulder, jumped at the slightest touch, been unwilling to accept the simplest compliment, continually unable to fathom that others might find her interesting, worthwhile, or important. It was still a work in progress, but she wasn’t moving backwards or scuttling to hide like some crawfish beneath its rock at the first hint of the man’s existence or mention of his name. She’d face it without flinching; he had no power over her now.

“I understand,” she finally gritted out as steadily as possible, eyeing Killian and David in turn, seeing that they took in her resolve. “I’ll keep my guard up, and I’ll call you the moment I see him - if I see him - but I’m not cowering or letting him ruin what I’ve worked toward. I have a store to open the day after tomorrow, and I’m not stopping for him or anyone else.”

David was already shaking his head, not liking her stubborn response, but being wise enough to recognize a battle he couldn’t win. “Well, see that you do. Keep your phone on you at all times. Try not to be alone any more than you have to. Call me anytime - day or night, whether I’m officially on duty or not, I mean that. We can’t ignore the facts. We may not have been able to do much to help when we were kids, but I’m not giving him a chance to lay a hand on you again, not on my watch.”

“Nor mine,” Killian echoed gravely, his voice a low rumble that shuddered through her pleasantly, no matter how she tried to ignore the effect. He was right there at her elbow, radiating anger, protectiveness, and something else delicious and unspoken which she didn’t dare put a name to. Even in the nightmare situation being threatened, a small, neglected corner of her thrilled at the sensation, savoring it for all it was worth.

“What? Nolan’s deputized you, and I haven’t heard about it?” she queried sarcastically, arching a sardonic brow at him in effort to hide just how touched she was by the care they both showed and the amount of comfort it lent her. Shaking her head, Emma regarded both men with knowing resignation, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but do you really think I don’t understand the danger here? Or that I plan to leave myself vulnerable again? I don’t. But I won’t stop living my life either. It’s finally mine, to live as I choose.”

“But Emma…” David began again, seeming to forget his earlier decision to abandon a futile struggle - at least until she sent a quelling look his way to freeze the words on his tongue.

Killian was undaunted though, and picked up where the Sheriff had left off. “At least don’t allow him to catch you all alone, Swan. You shouldn’t go anywhere by yourself until Franken is back in custody.”

She’d  placed her hands on her hips then, facing off against him squarely, even as he stepped closer too, moving to cradle her elbow in his large, calloused hand, much as he would aim to soothe a skittish animal. That still didn’t keep her from countering frustratedly, “And just how long might that take? Who’s planning on uprooting his life to follow me around like a babysitter, you?” She shook her head wildly, seeing that he looked every bit as stubborn as she did. “You don’t have time for that - no one does. It’s not practical.”

“I’ll make time,” he shot right back, without so much as a blink or a moment’s pause. “Practical or not, it’s necessary, and you’re stuck with me.”

She huffed in dissatisfaction, but turned from him to plant her hands on the counter and force several deep breaths rather than continuing to fight - in front of David, no less - when they were both so riled up.

“Well, glad that’s settled,” David breathed out with a brisk energy, pointedly ignoring the obvious tension in the room and smacking his hands together loudly, as if to accentuate the issue being resolved. He tapped a hand twice on the sturdy counter in farewell. “Everyone’s looking for him; he won’t be loose for very long,” he predicted, giving Emma a bolstering smile. “Until then, you’ve got a little extra insurance, right? Just to be safe.”

Emma only offered a half-hearted grumble and roll of her eyes, but David unaffectedly allowed that to roll right off his back with typical good humor, slapping Killian’s shoulder on his way to the door. 

Once they were alone, Killian turned to her with an exaggerated sort of leer and waggling brow, as if knowing she needed to lessen the anxiety surrounding them. “So, Swan, it would seem I am at your service. What would you have me do?” He leaned closer to her with the words, lending them a hint of temptation, especially when she could see his tongue swipe along his bottom lip seductively.

She had to tease him back; there was simply no other way her pounding heart and heated blood would allow her to respond. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she purred with a salacious wink, batting her lashes for added effect.

If possible, the heated expression on Killian’s face grew more scorching, little flames of awareness licking up and down her arms and all across her skin. Emma flushed involuntarily, knowing her response showed, and that realization only making her embarrassment and arousal climb all the higher. Her gaze fell to the counter in an attempt to escape his intense regard; eyes following her fingers as they fumbled over odds and ends lying about, scrambling to look busy.

Still, her head jerked back up at his response, unable to avoid eye contact when the warmth of his words washed over her, still lightly flirtatious, but no less sincere, as he answered, “Perhaps I would.”

There was no way she could question that he meant it honestly. Along with the ability to see things average eyes could not, Emma could also sense when someone spoke the truth, and knew most usually when the truth was withheld. She might have lost her faith in that skill for awhile; her emotions too involved where Neal was concerned to see he had not meant all he had promised, and her ability to interpret her visions compromised by heartbreak in the case that sent her city life and purpose crumbling down. But, for all of that, she could still read Killian with absolute certainty, like the printed font on the page of a book. In fact, he was the most unmistakably clear, open person she could remember facing since Rose herself. It was impossible to misread him, and more than that - though it set her heart to fluttering at triple speed - not only does she trust him, but she finds that she wants to.

Humming softly under her breath, she accepted his admission without further comment, and with a cryptic, quiet smile she turned to find something she could have him do to help if he was determined to stay.

Once started, Emma was pleasantly surprised to find that they settle into an easy rhythm working side by side. She carried on unpacking, but could direct Killian up on the ladder with hammer and nails to hang various canvasses and frames for display, rather than having to do it all herself. As the afternoon sun crossed the sky and began to lower toward the evening, they shared various stories from the years between since they had seen each other last. Emma spoke warmly of the professor who took her under her wing, a Professor Ingersoll, who showed her all she could about camera, angles, light and shadow, and taking a shot which could truly speak to the viewer once captured. The older woman had also given Emma a place to visit for a homecooked meal some evenings, shared her secret of topping cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon to make it even more decadent, and had become almost a surrogate older sister in Emma’s eyes, beyond being a brilliant mentor.

Meanwhile, Killian spoke less often, but with a wistful fondness that drew Emma nearer, allowing her to see that though he had possessed the money, fine home, seemingly perfect family, and advantages she had not known, he still had pains and regrets, wishes and hopes he had not yet been able to make come true. As strange as it might once have seemed to her barely teenaged self, they had much more in common than what held them apart. 

He spoke in easy, rolling vowels and smooth, deep rumblings of learning all that he knew at his father’s side, and of how much he had looked up to Brennan - practically idolized the man - until tragedy had brought him low and he had seen his hero crumble in his grief and vices. He even spoke falteringly of how he had blamed himself for not telling on Rose the evening before she had snuck out to her death. He had seen her bike - the one he then hated himself for teaching her to ride - hidden in the bushes at the end of the long drive, and had known she planned to slip away to some childish mischief after dinner. He hadn’t told, and it had eaten at him a long time, until he finally accepted that his inaction may or may not have changed anything, and that what happened to his sister was not his fault. 

Emma had to press her hands between her knees to keep from reaching out to cradle his tormented face between her palms at that confession. Her heart ached for him; she knew all too well what it was to dwell on might have beens and take on portions of the blame not meant to be her own. She might have never planned to meet Rose in their spot that night. She might have made it there to face down the killer with her friend or fall beside her. But she was not the one who had taken Rose’s life, and whatever others thought, she had finally come to see that her actions had not made the horror come to pass.

At some point they had ceased working, settling together at tall stools behind the counter and talking as evening shadows stretched and darkened the burnished shades of a Carolina sunset. Still, neither was ready to bring an end to the gentle comfort between them; the chance to speak of things long bottled up inside and receive understanding rather than judgement in return. It was only when Emma’s stomach growled so loudly that they both stopped speaking, wide-eyed before dissolving into laughter, that they finally gathered up their things and left, locking up the shop and driving off in search of some dinner.

She still didn’t think it was truly necessary for Killian to shadow her everywhere she went like some unofficial bodyguard. Yet, she also couldn’t deny feeling safer in the knowledge that he was there beside her and watching her back. Once they had decided to take his truck and leave her VW there on Main Street for the night, they headed for one of the local drive-thrus. She would be right back at work tomorrow, after all, and the car would probably be safer there in the middle of town under streetlights and regular patrols of the local police than it would be at her rented cabin.

Clambering up into the passenger seat of his tall pickup truck, Emma still felt she ought to protest once more, just at the upset to Killian’s schedule, the inconvenience of leaving behind his routine and all the chores of his own he no doubt had to do, not to mention the awkwardness of spending so much time - and overnight, at that - alone together, no more than they really knew each other. As expected though, Killian would hear no further argument, resolved that making sure she was safe was the most important thing to him. Then he deftly shifted the conversation with a wink and easy grin, asking where she wanted to eat.

It wasn’t until they were traveling along the rutted back road well outside the Storybrooke limits, along the edge of the wooded marsh near the place she was renting, that the peaceful companionship of the past few hours was harshly shattered. They had been rolling along under the deep midnight-purple sky sprinkled with stars, Emma savoring the last few salty French fries in her packet from the local diner and Killian slurping the last dregs of his milkshake from his cup, when her world suddenly swirled away from her; disjointed scenes from somewhere else flashing and pulsing wildly behind her eyes and the sight she both dreaded and couldn’t ignore swept her up more violently than it had done in years.

Gasping in shock, Emma bent forward over her knees, screwing her eyes shut even as the images playing behind her eyes invaded her head, growing ever more loud and vivid. “Wait, stop!” she rasped desperately, one hand clenched in her lap as the other fumbled blindly for the door handle as if to escape. Her voice scratched out ragged and plaintive as she begged Killian, “Please, stop! Right here, please!”

Alarmed, Killian pulled the truck over to the shoulder and threw it in park. He moved to reached across and take the hand she had reflexively balled into a fist, but even as they had barely come to a stop, Emma was out the door, stumbling sightlessly into the overgrown ditch. Hurrying after her, Killian called Emma’s name futilely while rounding the back bumper and plunging after her, but it was as though he were somewhere else from her entirely, unseen or heard as her arms flailed wildly while she climbed out on the other side of the ditch and into the field beyond, weaving unsteadily toward the treeline.

“Emma, hold up!” he called, trying to make it sound like a command, though his concern for her and confusion at what was happening overrode his intentions, making his voice echo shakily in the still night air. He jogged to catch up with her, abandoning any further entreaties that she was clearly past hearing. 

Just as he reached her, Emma fell to her knees, hands on the hard-packed earth barely stopping her from falling flat on her face. Heaving, she seemed to be either struggling to catch her breath, or trying to purge nausea at whatever she saw that was invisible to Killian. She shook her head violently, almost clawing at the earth as she rocked back and forth on her knees. Not knowing what else to do, Killian reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder, then when no protest came, to rub it up and down her back soothingly.

Some minutes passed, minutes that felt like excruciating hours to Killian as he waited, not certain but hoping she would come back to him. At long last, Emma seemed to still, her rocking motion calming until she nearly slumped against his side, drained. For several interminable seconds neither spoke, until Emma suck in a harsh, rattling breath and jerked upright, her eyes popping open as she finally came back to herself fully.

“Shh, shhh, Love… take it easy,” Killian crooned, trying to pull her back to his side and smooth her hair back from her face as she scrambled backwards and began anxiously trying to regain her bearings. “I know you’ve seen something awful… but you’re back now, aye? You’re going to be alright.”

But Emma’s eyes were wide as they focused on him, finally seeing him there before her. “No,” she mumbled, her voice struggling back to life. “No, it won’t be alright at all.” Grabbing his hand and holding on tightly, she stared at him as if pleading for him to believe her and beggin his forgiveness at the same time. “I saw her, Killian. Some poor young girl… hitchhiking on this same stretch of road.  He pulled over, gave her a smile… She didn’t know anything was wrong…” Emma’s breath hitched, but she pressed on. “She fought, but…but she couldn’t get away.  I was seeing it t-through his eyes…” She shuddered before her voice dropped even lower, “No feelings, no remorse, just drinking in her terror… like it was before.  That monster killed her. I saw it.”

The green of her gaze pierced his chest, causing Killian to struggle to breathe as well when she finally managed to tell him, “He killed her just the way he killed Rose.” Emma trembled all over as she finally let Killian gather her in his arms, though he was shaking now as well. “Rose wasn’t the only one. She was just the beginning.”

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @cssns @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @sotangledupinit @winterbaby89 @bluewildcatfanatic @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @anmylica @stahlop @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @wefoundloveunderthelight @belovedcreation @scientificapricot @kday426 @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @ineffablecolors @blowmiakisscolin

[nightspires]

i am so intrigued by ND 4x06. without any promos it's hard to know what we're going into ahead of the ep. but the episode title being "Web of Yesterdays" and the episode description mentioning them going back to high school for career day, AND the stuff from the season trailer with tristan jumping into what looks like a portal + the gigantic spider (web!) -- it looks like it's gonna be a jam packed ep.

i am VERY INTRIGUED about the portal (?) from the trailer. and the fact that the episode has the word "yesterdays" in makes me wonder if we're gonna get a lil bit of time travel. i LOVE time travel. it would be a fun twist we've never seen before.

i've also seen people theorise we might see a flashback or something of nancy in HS (which would mean we'd also see george and possibly also ace -- and given the mention of him noticing her in HS in 4x03... it's possible). which would be fun! it would v much give me the vibes of that roswell new mexico flashback ep in s1... which remains one of my fave eps of RNM ever.

ANYWAY. i'm excited.

[thatguywiththetumb1er]

So Super Mario Bros. Wonder is out and it’s great. But I specifically want to call out something about it’s approach to animation, because yes Wonder looks better than the New series but it’s important to acknowledge WHY.

This video, without words, does SO MUCH to demonstrate the difference between Wonder’s philosophy and the New series philosophy. And it's something I'll be discussing more... AFTER THE BREAK!

I think something that gets lost in the discussion about the NSMB series is how the series evolved graphically, because it’s easy to look at the difference between U over a decade ago (or U Deluxe just shy of 5 years ago) and Wonder and wonder (heh) just what was going on with U.

The answer is that for 5 years U represented the culmination of a different kind of graphical journey, one that I was there for and remember noticing even at the time. And look, YES the NSMB games are generic but let’s table that for a second and go on a bit of a journey here.

NSMB DS came at a time where having a 3D game on a handheld was a BIG DEAL, and NSMB reflects that in more ways than one. Because while the promo art looks like THIS:

The actual game looks more like THIS:

If you go back and play NSMB today the thing that’s going to surprise you is just HOW LITTLE 3D is in it. Yes Mario is 3D and most of the enemies are too but the blocks you bash, the Koopa shells you kick, the power ups you collect and the backgrounds you run through are NOT. They’re all rendered as 2D sprites to help the game run smoothly on the DS.

Why do I point this out? Because it’s indicative of the New series’s approach to 3D. The sheer act of being in 3D is a spectacle, having a 3D rendered Mario is a graphical trick so cool that the first game has to invent its own hybrid art style to show it off.

Now let’s flash forward to Wii:

Immediately we’re looking at a big shift, we’ve still got a hybrid art style but one that looks much more cohesive.. This game is a much more significant graphical leap, it LOOKS in gameplay like the first game’s promo material! And this trend would be continued by 2 which upped the saturation in its art style (2 is both my favorite game in the New series and my favorite pre-Wonder 2D Mario (no really) and I usually hate that it gets the shaft but that's a discussion for another time unfortunately). Now jump ahead to U:

Nintendo's first game on an HD console, U was considered U-niversally (heh) underwhelming by graphical standards but for my money I think U still had a distinct graphical goal: to create environments that were U-nique (heh) to the previous games. NSMB is famous for using the same world themes in every game, but U takes them, polishes them up, and gives them a bit of personality to help stand on their own. From the moai and dessert motifs of layer cake desert to the mushroom trees of acorn plains to the night skies and auroras of frosted glacier. YES its the same themes but they have a bit more pop this time and that's intentional. What HASN'T changed is the approach to animation, and this is where we circle back to Wonder. The "Wow" factor of these games is still that it uses 3D models, so it doesn't focus on HOW it uses models as much or how those models look in 3D space. Go watch the video again and what stands out is how... for lack of a better term... utilitarian the U animations are. The Wonder animations are all peppered with bits of personality but the U animations are all focused on just manipulating the models, because the 3D models are the (theoretical) draw.

Moreover, look how the models are constructed. U Mario faces forward as if he is in a 3D space, while the Mario Wonder model is built to more closely resemble the Super Mario World sprites. If you look at the Mario Wonder model closely it doesn't totally make sense, Mario is tilted at a diagonal angle at almost all times, why? BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT LOOKS BETTER IN 2D. The U model is technically what looking at Mario from a side on perspective would be, but the Wonder model brings in elements of 2D animation to create something more visibly appealing. Honestly that's basically the MO of Wonder's graphical style, ignore realism and create visuals that LOOK GOOD with the perspective of the game. It's one of the reason that I find it so strange for the game to use the standard character models in the promo material:

Compared to how they look in game:

But that's just my thoughts. I'd be interested to hear what more seasoned artists think as well! And thanks for tuning in to this tangent haha.