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crxssjae · 5 months ago

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Chapter One: Anew Revist

Summary:

Jey doesn't know who this "Sami" guy is, as he and Jimmy return to NXT after receiving a request from Hunter.

You can read the other fics from my WWE masterlist here.

"Something About You" is posted on AO3 (here) and Wattpad (here)

Warning(s): 18+, language, it's 5k (or close to 5k idk) words so I had to warn y'all

<- CH.ZERO

__________

"Aight, aight, aight! Y'know what time it is: pick a choice!" Jimmy exclaimed, hands gripped on the steering wheel with a goofy grin.

No matter the travels aboard on the road, their shenanigans never fail. On occasions, the car is in charge along with its revving engine in the background to cut out silence; no exchanges, just peace while tasking their careers weren't new to them.

Three years passed, and on to their fourth year as wrestlers. Life of wrestling can be either a simple rise or a struggle after entering its world; it'll crawl half of the brain firsthand and will refuse to be gone by the end of months. Skilled ones would tell them when they step forward and keep going, it'll be like an endless cycle that'll never break. For the twins, however, theirs were full of balance.

They listened while exchanging jokes— Jey often gets aggravated and nonchalant whether Jimmy mentioned a humorous past he had if they were kids, teens, or a few years back. Despite the never-ending bickering, Jey's spirits are always uplifted with happiness and not isolation, thanks to his brother.

Although he questioned himself before, there's never a simple term why at the end for being bored in the first place.

It's obvious Jimmy tried his hardest not to ruin themselves, so Jey promises he'll be helpful, too. Sort of.

"Here's the catch," Jimmy began. "Which is worse? Gettin' our ass beat each time one of us gets a singles match?"

The twins' expressions mirrored the wince with cringe. One of the worst memories Jey will and will not forget.

"Not every week... but 'kay." he cleared his throat with a chuckle, continuing. "Or 'dat time at my wedding day wit’ Naomi when yo' face got smashed wit' cake 'cause you want s'um strawberries?"

Jey smacked his lips. "You still can't let go 'bout it, huh? I'd rather pick the first one than the second."

Jimmy shook his head, laughing. "At least you got a good taste n' eatin' like it's yo' favorite ice cream."

Jey groaned, earning another laugh from Jimmy. He did not want anyone, especially his brother, to mention the cake situation ever again. "If you don't shut up n’ drive, Uce."

Serene air in the car signaled its atmosphere. His mind wandered into the thoughts now; forty minutes they've been on the road. One of the songs Jimmy chose is playing on the radio, the best way to beat the silence— nevertheless, they still fuss over the best music genre. So far, it went well, unless they weren't acting like little kids. But that's how siblings do.

He was supposed to drive in case Jimmy could have a chance to munch the remaining snacks or snooze; instead, Jey's stomach had other plans for him when it rumbled with hunger. Jey gave up, seated in the passenger's side, chomping some chips and drinking soda, glimpsing at the city he never thought coming back: Winter Park, Florida, where NXT took place.

Its welcome recalled the months and years of September 2011 to October 2012; fans saw Jimmy and Jey as twins who looked alike but couldn't tell apart. No matter the charisma they held, none viewed their tag team potential due to many losses, pushed back in the line like decoys for other duos to receive their opportunity. The unforeseen chances were higher, so Hunter took notice and sent them to the NXT roster for a year and one month.

Through trial and error— from being rookies who received the most unsuccessful opportunities, standing at the back of the line, to a spotlight above them where everyone can gawk and recognize— the beloved Tag Team Champions. Second chances can be remarkable.

Old memories resurfaced, and new memories arose once arriving back to NXT, though the request Hunter gave bothered Jey, so he had to ask.

"Ay, Jimmy," Jey began, lips pursed.

"Yea?" Jimmy responded.

"'Bout Hunter, he said he'd paired us with… wit’ Samuel, right?" Jey questioned, confusion etched across his face.

"Sami, not Samuel," Jimmy corrected, shrugging. "I dunno 'bout him either. All I know is that he beat two opponents in his debut. First was Curt, then was Cesaro."

Jey stared at Jimmy, letting out a huff. "Y’jokin'. There's no way in hell he faced two guys on the same night."

"Not everyone can pull it off. S'um but not everyone. Don't forget, DB did it n' win at WrestleMania with injury."

"But nobody can wrestle two dudes in one night on their debut. Dat's not fair! They'll tire themselves out!"

"Aww, you at least took the time to be worried." Jimmy teased in a fake emphatic tone, grinning like an idiot. "See? I am a good and smart ol' brother! Be proud for once."

Smack the taste out of his mouth would've been another achievement on the list; then again, the scolding from Rikishi's voice was one thing he and Jimmy wanted to avoid.

Another glimpse outside the window of Winter Park, his mind wandered deep, surveying the strangers strolling alongside friends on the cobblestone sidewalk, the cafés, and the opening restaurants. The discussion with Jimmy floated, pushing the peace aside, stuck like glue as his eyes broke contact, narrowing down at his sneakers. Jey hated to admit it— his brother was correct.

In WrestleMania, confronting an opponent in a match while being injured to get a chance to be in the Triple Threat for the main event; after achieving the win in a tired state, having no choice but to face two guys, yet at the end, got the championship and given a standing ovation.

In a debut? That's tough to do. Faced against the first challenger in the opening match and won— while obtaining a second win against another later, without the body being exhausted in one night.

Who would do that for a debut, though? How the hell does Samuel— Sami— manage to keep up?

An upcoming rookie. No matter, he'll meet him soon, put some sense into him, and teach him what and what not to do in the wrestling business.

"Stop thinkin' so much."

Jimmy's voice interrupted his thoughts. Jey rolled his eyes, even if the encouragement was getting him. "Whatever, man," he grumbled.

He steadied when Jimmy sighed, knowing how the response went.

"Look on the bright side," Jimmy said, his tone sincere. "At least we can greet s’um new Superstars n’ not always the many crowded strangers of Sami."

"Can y’stop mentionin' Samuel? Sheesh, man, y’makin' it worse," Jey retorted, didn't bother to correct the man's name.

"Sami, it's Sami. You callin' the name wrong."

"And? Whatchu gon' do?"

Jimmy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Pettiest brother ever."

In which he is.

__________

Jey and Jimmy did not expect crew members and their coworkers to scramble across hallways to rooms like dozens of mice— spotting an area to hide. Compared to 2011, it used to be a small group in a developmental brand— now evolving in a slow, smooth, recognizable process.

Fast-paced greets and conversations, out of breath due to in-ring wins or losses, alongside admirations of wrestlers from those who are fans had a chance to say hello and given advice; reeled in the surprise shoved on the face without blank stares. For a moment, Jey gaped, taking in the changes, then shifting back to his usual mood, keeping things professional.

One year after leaving the NXT roster, fresh faces came from left to right, while some stayed longer due to Hunter's approval. Nothing questioned if locker rooms got bigger. It must've stayed the same, still having decorations for each individual among logo signs.

Meaningless to think, some are keeping the old stuff as a souvenir.

Inside their room, well, compared to the men's main roster, the twins began the usual routine of face paint. Before ending up at Winter Park earlier, both had the final agreement: use green to apply and white as an outline to match their current attire. It will never feel correct if the colors are mismatched.

Tedious could be, Jey managed to get it done. He did the outline on the right side of Jimmy's face, and even though his trembling right hand struck a nerve, he stroked with green without smudging the white. Of course, blaming Jimmy is one hundred percent on the list for not settling down, yet Jey is like him, too. Once he completed the right side, Jey passed the materials to Jimmy, letting him color the left side of Jey's face.

With a couple of deep breaths and small jokes his brother can come up with, Jey's mind eased with peace—

The sound of a creaking door startled the twins. Jey whipped his head, ignoring a strip of white on the nose Jimmy did by accident. Neither thought the reminder to knock before entering.

"We're busy, get out—"

Any words stuck in his throat after uttering, brows rose in surprise at the presence of the man, whose hazel eyes glinted in welcome like a golden retriever vowing to introduce himself. Who is he? A rookie? Why does he have no manners?

His ginger hair was scuffled with a towel encircling his neck, exposing bits of hair on the slightly above-average physique; wrists wrapped in white tape— and red-black elbow pads, arranged to get in the ring, double-checked to straighten the tights. What a sight to behold, Jey would say.

He doesn't understand. Why did he keep a smile on his face? No smugness, all of it is dotted with kindness and shyness like he regretted barging in without speaking.

How stupid would it be if Jey yelled to leave?

Embarrassment. That's what he thought.

"Sorry," he spoke, fiddling his thumbs. "If you're busy, I... I can leave and wait."

Jimmy grinned, first to interact. "Don't be. It's all good." His voice raised before the man could close the door, seeing him look back. "Yo’ name's Sami Zayn, right?"

"Um, yeah." Known to be Sami, nodding in response. "That's me."

Jey stared in disbelief. "Yea, right, you're not Samuel."

"Sami, not Samuel." Jimmy forced himself to correct the name, much to worsen.

"... Sami," Jey grumbled through gritted teeth with a forced smile. He does his best not to snap at his brother in front of him. "Can you please knock next time without being—" He paused, searching for the right words, and responded, "Rude?"

"Sorry. I won't do it again," Sami answered, rubbing the back of his neck and letting out a soft giggle. "So you guys are the Usos?"

"Yup!" the twins responded in unison.

"Jimmy with the right paint, and Jey with the left paint?"

To Jey's astonishment, Sami got a sharp eye.

No matter who either fans, crews, coworkers, or a boss like Hunter— almost all call out the wrong brother's name with or without face paint. Jey would've guessed Sami had experience with twin brothers, sisters, or siblings. He has to give him credit.

As for Jimmy, he had a wide smile. His face would be hurting the next day if stretched too wide.

Here we go, Jey rolled his eyes, unamused.

"Thank god!" Sami sighed in relief. "I was worried one of you would say I'm delusional. There are a couple of people I've met who look alike and get names wrong—"

"Hold on, pause, take a breather," Jimmy interrupted, and Sami's lips sealed tight. "No need to get overwhelmed, my dawg. Y’good, we don't bite at all."

Yet.

What a chatterbox. Jimmy had the urge to call Sami "his dawg" straight away. It'll take forever for Jey to get into trust like his brother did. Hard to explain; he didn't have to be swooned by the person flashing a bright smile he had never known in his life, then become great buddies the next day without the intention of wanting to be friends.

All fixated on the time, the questions can be asked later. Jey tapped Jimmy's shoulder twice to bring his attention.

"Tell Hunter we'll be there," Jimmy told Sami.

"I will, and nice to meet you both," Sami responded and turned his heel before closing the door behind him. Jey knew from the tone he was eager to be paired.

Ten minutes closed in, the preparation needed to be quick.

Jimmy managed to wipe the white mark off Jey's nose with a thumb. He refocused on painting Jey's face while noting the conversation earlier. "Why can't y’just be nice, Uce?"

"I dunno. Why y’call him 'my dawg' when we only know a lil' 'bout him?" Jey mimicked Jimmy's friendly voice, receiving a glare from his brother, but he couldn't care less.

"'Cause he's nice! What y’want me to do, be grumpy n’ sayin' get off my ass? Y’wanna be rude 'cause y’couldn't get his name right."

"Nuh-uh, don't start dat comparin'. I'm— I'm tryna learn."

"Sure, sure, correctin' yourself is not workin'," Jimmy mocked.

"Y'did the same wit' Pops, too, so you can't deny."

Jimmy couldn't help smacking his lips. He finished the outline, taking the green paint to color the rest. "Glad I ain't a hothead like you."

"Says someone who yelled timeout for five minutes n’ sayin' they cheatin' for two."

Embarrassment crept Jimmy on the trail. Lips curled into a sly smirk as Jey watched him squirm and shake his head in denial.

"Be quiet n’ lemme finish," Jimmy grumbled.

Jey snickered. His mind wandered back to Sami; a misunderstanding earlier, or so thought, except Jimmy. What an odd, odd wrestler.

He can ask later if there's a chance. Until then— everything is pushed aside. Disappointment is not on his agenda; prestige is.

__________

NXT Tag Team Champions, The Ascension: Konnor and Viktor. Their duo efforts are no joke to others who overlooked them.

A year and six months. Their respect was earned, putting in lots of hard work and doing their best to beat the duo during the tag match. It's unfortunate, left a bite in the dust after the Ascension won at the end. Punctured a gnaw as a mistake of failure for the twins. Though lessons go over throughout their years as a tag team.

Konnor and Viktor are sincere people, so is another man grouped along. Jey's brows knitted with wonder. What's his name again?

His eyes lit up: Corey Graves, the Savior of Misbehavior.

Isn't his gimmick name? Does it mean to protect the misbehave or cause the misbehave? Why does a gimmick grind Jey's gears into confusion?

Corey is a couple of new guys Jey and Jimmy met. Had a short decent chat earlier, and he isn't bad at all, just a good person. A man like him can leave a scar to become the future champion with a cold-hearted gimmick like that; no pun intended.

Christcontrol blared from the speakers outside the arena after the producers played the theme. Boos rippled across the crowd outside, voicing out their hate for villains as usual. Jey felt his shoulder brushed against Corey's, eying at him with an impressed look. The surge of the gimmick came alive once Corey exited the gorilla position and entered through the curtains— his smug smirk danced between his lips.

Jimmy leaned against Jey. "He has potential." His voice lowered in a whisper. "One look, he gets into it."

One look. It felt like two or many looks of skill. For charisma, Jey is unsure since he met Corey a few minutes ago.

Rebellion rang in. Konnor and Viktor strolled past Jey and Jimmy, gripping the NXT Tag Team Championships. Four of them exchanged nods as the twins watched their coworkers head out. The intimidation never wore off the Ascension. Dominance revealed in front of coworkers and the fans' gaze.

This theme is unrecognizable to Jey when Lower the Boom chimed. A firm pat on the shoulder caught attention and he glanced at Sami, who nodded to him, then Jimmy. Luck is needed now, but for Jey, can it be good to trust that man?

For the audience's reaction— it seemed so from the cheers.

Sami let his lips spread a wide smile like everything was positive. "See you in the ring, champion."

With one thumb up, he went out there in front of dozens of fans, itching to see him in action.

Jey froze, taken aback at being called "champion". He doesn't get it. What is this man trying to do? Taunt him? Throw him off the bus?

Was it praise? Champion. But Sami never said tag team champion, only champion in one word. Only to him.

Sami must've said the same to Jimmy. Jey doesn't know. His mind spiraled in bits of confusion.

"Don't lose focus, Uce." Jimmy's snickering snapped Jey out of his thoughts. One half of the Tag Team Championship belt already encircled Jimmy's waist. He patted Jey's shoulder. "C'mon, get on cue."

Jey wanted to tell Jimmy and shout at his face that it was none of his business, though the producers signaled they were next to go on. He'll worry later as he adjusted the belt and followed him.

__________

The Usos' theme, So Close Now, became familiar. Two years in a row. Fans caught up along the dance and pyro, except it's not used as of today, the arena is moderate. The passion behind each person in the audience never burned off. Their roaring cheers rippled the muteless air.

Commentators would show excitement for live TV and the energy of the announcer in both.

The twins strolled from the entrance ramp to Sami as soon as possible. High-fived; Jimmy exchanged a smile, and scurried ahead while Jey, being bouncy, left behind, glancing over at Sami. Words exchanged, unheard over the crowds' wooing, the corner of his mouth quirked a smile told all.

Took a quick second as Sami whipped his head in Jey's direction. Determination wisped in his dilated pupils with no surge of uneasiness. "Let's go." he mouthed to Jey.

Brows furrowed, Jey lacked reading lips, though nodded in response rather than asking now. He followed Sami without further excuses.

The trio has gone into the ring, and their presence is known. So Close Now faded, voices of cheering fans expressed. The referee double-checked each man in while the twins handed their tag team belts to the staff from the ringside for safety. Six men stared down for only a few seconds; Jey, Sami, Corey, and Konnor went on the apron. Jimmy and Viktor are first.

The match began once the bell rang. Spark of tiny hope yet doubt in his heart Jey wouldn't botch the whole thing. Hope neither of them mess up.

Viktor, out of the blue, lunged. Jimmy caught on without effort. Smooth evaded to the side, a focused gaze at Viktor's tensed body and huffed in his nostrils like a bull. Both readied their next move and darted. Hooked in a grapple struggle— Viktor locked Jimmy in a rest hold. Not tight, made sure a breath of air was needed. Other seconds came and released the hold. Viktor ran the ropes and bumped Jimmy with his shoulder to the mat with a thud.

No joke. Skills were swift, chemistry well and strong. Jey can tell; this agitated the fire. Mystified why is fascinating to learn.

Running the ropes again. Viktor increased speed, unknown that Jimmy caught up; a chop to the chest slowed the time. Jey's praises caught Jimmy's attention, looking over his shoulder with a confident grin.

Jey gave a careful eye on Corey. Tagged in, slithered into the ring for Viktor to back out. The killer stare sent shivers down Jey's spine, acting as "the Savior of Misbehavior" character quite well.

"Tag me!" Sami leaned in, esteem oozing in his tone, yanked the white rope from the turnbuckle pad. His hand reached out to Jimmy. "Tag me in! Come on!"

Unable to hold back a smirk, entertainment danced in Jey's heart. He'll give this man credit.

Not bad, Samuel. Not bad.

Tag made with Sami after Jimmy tagged out. "Olé" chants were vocal, unavoidable to make it known. Bit of a stare down, Sami pranced with Corey, circling the ring. Ache for an attack, his fingers flexed, calculating Corey's next move; not long for Corey paced back to the corner where the Ascension was, tagging out with Konnor. A slow eye roll Sami did. Disappointed, yet unsurprised.

Jey snorted at Sami's reaction.

Slow, cautious step in from Konnor, glared down at Sami, four times tall. The struggle didn't drawl for either of them. Konnor's foot booted him in the abdomen and hammered his fist into Sami's back, forcing him to be unbalanced. An elicited grunt from Sami, being shoved to the corner. He stumbled away while composing him, unaware Corey tagged back in, much to Konnor's dismay.

Perfect. Sami glimpsed up and dove towards him. Flurries of fists were unloaded, wild. Pounce after pounce while Corey scrambled for escape. Jey knew the task Sami had in mind: get his hands on Corey Graves. Managed to shuffle against those fists, Corey tagged Viktor.

Fewer seconds pass in an expedition. Double team from Sami to Jey, Jimmy to Jey, all in a cycle tag team technique. This isn't bad. Their teamwork became likable, how it steadied so far. Better yet the sudden teamwork between him, his brother, and of course, Sami.

Still, he isn't giving in to the "trick".

I know what I'm doin’. I know what I'm doin’.

He doesn't.

Sami tagged him, there's victory coming forward. Yet Viktor's malicious clothesline broke Jey's attempt to further offense onto the floor, flattened. His luck lessened. Mussitation of curse words sputtered to himself, strained grunts, the dizziness emerged back and forth; Jey shook it off.

Stay awake, keep resolute.

Backgrounds into muffles. His vision clouded, the figures of Sami and Jimmy blurry. Hand stretched, doing his goddamn best to tag either of them. Only to be slipped away, being hoisted in the arms of Viktor before being carried into the corner.

Another tag is made. Jey blinked, shut his eyes, then opened, glancing at who Viktor tagged: Konnor.

Beatdown. Powerslam. His arm was hovering off distance, reaching them.

"C'mon, Uce! C'mon, Uce!" The shouting voice of Jimmy is inaudible.

Jey's heart pumped ear to ear while quickened in his chest, stumbled back to his feet. Gaze fixated on Jimmy, on Sami. Their mouths are moving, now a blur. Konnor clotheslined him to the top rope onto outside the ring.

Seconds to lengthy minutes. Viktor's boot dug into Jey's chest for four seconds. Withered in agony, Jey was still on the task of tagging either Jimmy or Sami. Mind the tag, never the match. Viktor must've switched with Konnor, so another beatdown was received again.

A scoff escaped his lips. Jey got a favor in return and swung a slap at Konnor to the face. Another slap didn't affect the chance, Konnor swung him down. Jey's mane gripped hard through Konnor's fingers, scalp burning in anguish, wincing before a punch to the side of his head. His body being pressed against Konnor's and held for the pin.

"One! Two!"

Kickout. Good.

Now hooked in a rest hold, Jey inhaled a couple of times, gnashed his teeth, fingertips marked on Konnor's arms. Thought of a plan, a light bulb clicked an idea though risky. His feet staggered around to stand, elbowed to the stomach. This didn't give anything he had due to Konnor being unfazed, being thrashed to the mat.

Jey Uso the punching bag. Ridiculous. He tried not to become one throughout this match. Jimmy's words. Sami's chants. Fans clapping for encouragement. Not yet, not yet he won't.

Corey's turn. Again, Jey is unsurprised.

Stomp, after stomp, after stomp. Another beating, Corey pushed him down onto his back to a second pin. The referee slid for the count after communicating with the other men to stay in the apron.

"One! Two!"

Second kickout. Hard to tell if it's a miracle.

Rest hold again. Broke free with ease, Corey shifted into a headlock, both onto their stomachs. One arm of Jey scrambled, hand clenching, unclenching, not to tap out too soon. It's obvious he didn't pass out while coming up with a strategy. Rolled to his back, shoulders down.

"One!" The referee banged the mat, keeping a watchful eye on the pin. "Two!"

Third kickout. Corey never released the headlock, though.

"Come on, Jey! You got this!" Sami yelled with motivation, at the same time distress filled his tone. Tapped the apron, alongside Jimmy who shouted in sync.

No I don't, man!

Liar.

Twisted his body, enough for his knees on the mat, glance hardened at Jimmy. Outreached, fingers wiggling— a little more— a little more inches. One fist to the spine from Corey halted Jey and earned an erupted, helpless yelp. A lost chance for the hot tag, given the advantage for Corey tagged out, Viktor tagged in. Immediate stomps, further beat-ups.

Plenty of stamina left in the tank. He fought back.

Harsh chop to the chest, Viktor returned one. Jey did the same. The whole short trading chops fest will be left with marks by the time they finish. Seeing stars, his vision blurred in.

All those moves Viktor gave turn inside out, his body boneless, slumped, close to rolling out the ring. Didn't give a chance as Viktor tugged his arm, dragging him with ease like a corpse, going for the pin.

"One!"

It shot Jimmy's anxiety and pressure on the roof. "Get up, get up!"

"Two!"

Kickout again. Would've been two in a half, but Jey couldn't care less. Thank Jimmy.

Viktor locked Jey's head, tighter around the neck, unable to breathe through the throat pipe. Exchanged words in a low voice, given the next move. Jey squirmed, clawed, kicked, anything to evade the headlock like the other two.

Claps. Jimmy's voice of encouragement. Sami's words. Helpful for him to change the game, this match.

A couple of punches to the belly, able to break free. Jey lifted Viktor into a backdrop. God, it's good for him. He can tag either of them, it'll be a breeze.

Lost opportunity again. Came out of nowhere, Konnor grabbed him by the hair and shoved him. A single realization never perked his expression, Jey took the chance to run the ropes, pulling a schoolboy pin on him, shoulders down.

One. Two. Kickout.

His brain circulated. Without thought, he scrambled at the same time along Konnor— a quick slap right to the temple, stunning him. Slouch on the mat trembled, Jey focused on Jimmy and Sami motioning to approach the noise. Konnor stood in ease. With a grunt, tried to manhandle and stop him from tagging. Jey didn't let up, throwing Konnor across the top rope, even if his strength was less than his.

Glimpsed over at Jimmy, then Sami— or Samuel— he can make it.

Go to the noise. Go to 'em, c'mon.

Beaten for seven or ten minutes. Somehow survived, somehow pulled it off. He needed a tag from either of them. A slow crawl to his brother, his partner. Give himself some rest a bit and let those two take over.

All of a sudden, a grasp on his ankle. Whipping his head, Konnor tried to prevent it again. But Jey is quick to think, nudged him using his feet, and goes back to crawling. Absorbed into tagging, unaware Viktor leaped over and struck Sami, then tried to attack Jimmy.

Jey looked up, wide-eyed. An opening in front of him, Jimmy avoided Viktor's hit. Snuck and crawl between the legs, he smacked Jimmy's hand— a hot tag was made, left the ring with a roll.

Successful yet pure exhaustion.

Chest heaving, sharp breath, back on the floor. Looked over to the staff who gave a signal if he was okay, and Jey gestured a thumb up. Flipped himself onto his stomach, his gaze caught into Sami's. Is he telepathic to him if he's okay? Doesn't look like Sami's expression full of agony, seemed fine.

He understood his stare though didn't. Time is little and it is despised to wait between questions on what happened. The only evidence Jey saw was the burn of passion in Sami's pupils. Credit earned for him pulling off like a cat earlier. He should've teased him.

Took one blink of Sami rushing over to the apron, tagging in with Jimmy. Where the hell did he receive all this fuel from?

Set eyes on the chemistry between Sami and Jimmy choreographed. Twenty minutes early, they're strangers now buddies all because his brother called someone his dawg. Bought into awe, and seemed to have a decision on whether or not to connect with the rookie. Will talk to them later; finishing comes first.

Jey arose and went to the ring steel steps. Make silent eye contact with Sami, both clasped their hands, tag has been made.

Viewing Sami and Jimmy's chemistry one more time, lips quirked up a soft smile, excitement bloomed within his chest. He climbed to the top rope, steadied as he locked on. Inhale, exhale. Leaped, executed an Uso Splash, his body slammed onto Corey, going for the pinfall.

One. Two. Three.

Bell chiming. The match is over.

So Close Now replayed for the second time on the speakers aboard with the fans' pop for the Usos and Sami's victory. Jey soaked in the noises, leaning against the ropes, mumbling a cuss word that the referee was unable to hear. Hair damped with sweat beading over his skin, face paint fainted a tad.

Felt a metal tap on the shoulder, Jey drifted to his one half of the Tag Team Championships, lifting his head; Jimmy's triumph grin holding the belts and Sami's blithe expression. The fact suspicions about Sami made a second choice.

Stood tall with the help from Jimmy, handed with the championship, he wondered a question: should he hug him?

His twin embraced Sami without hesitation. Thanking, giving compliments while exchanging smiles. Come to think of it, Hunter would be disappointed if Jey never did, so he had to for the sake of feeling his wrath.

Fuck it, I guess.

He joined in the fray and embraced, patting Sami's back. Normal, still normal, fine. A pair of lips grazed against Jey's ear, causing an eyebrow raise.

"You did a great job. Thank you."

Astonishment overtook his face.

Those words are going to be a full-on field day from now on.

__________

Thank you for reading!

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francebonapartiste · 6 months ago

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5 mai 2024, hommage à Napoléon Ier en présence de S.A.I. le Prince Jean-Christophe Napoléon sous la coupole des Invalides à Paris en commémorations du 203e anniversaire de la mort de l'Empereur des Français 🇨🇵

#france #napoleon #bonaparte #napoleon bonaparte #5mai #Empereur des Français #Paris #invalides

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faytelumos · 1 year ago

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Growing Pains, pt3

@the-phasea-kalogria

cw: self-deprecation, mention of past beatings, feelings of shame and lonliness

first | previous | directory

---

The first night was long. Turmoil could tell Third Degree wanted to talk. He laid in bed, turned towards them, shifting every now and then. Turmoil stayed on their right side, facing him, but kept their eyes closed.

Eventually, Third Degree turned away.

Turmoil settled quietly on their back and looked up at the ceiling. The plaster, popcorn ceiling, with the motionless fan in the bottom-right of their vision. This was a nice house. They were sleeping on a foam mattress with a plush comforter and AC running throughout the building. And they could feel the pillow against the back of their neck.

They lifted their hands and looked at them in the dimness. They had long, knobby fingers. Not like Overcast's, whose hands were big and strong. Not like Tadpole's, her hands slim and elegant. Just… Breaking Point's hands. Like a skeleton's.

They mouthed their name. Their old name. The name they hadn't given anyone permission to take away. Breaking Point. Breaking Point.

Breaking Point reached down slowly, running their thin, cool hands over their neck. There were callouses on the clavicles from where the old collar had chaffed them raw. They were hard and flat, and Breaking Point scratched at them, testing the edges, feeling their texture. Then they ran their fingers up to the soft skin around their neck.

The skin was warm, and their own touch tickled slightly. They had eventually gotten used to the new collar. Used to constantly, slightly choking when they ate. Used to the drone of their own heartbeat. But now, the skin was free, and it was sensitive, and it was so strange.

They ran their fingertips slowly up and down their neck, feeling their freedom until they were too tired to hold up their arms.

---

"This is what they gave you?" Overcast blurted once the costume was finally unwrapped. Turmoil winced at the sight of it.

They had gotten it right that the thing was a purple-silver design. They hadn't realized it was almost entirely glitter. The chest, arms, sides, and legs were some kind of wave-patterned, sparkling sea, with pulses of stronger purple to catch the eye. To top it off, there was a black stripe from the sternum, down to the groin, and up to the small of the back. The black cuffs on the arms and legs and around the collar made it look like a pair of gaudy pajamas.

"Honest to God, babe, the shit they put you guys in," Overcast lamented, looking the thing over. "It's a good thing they don't have a fashion police devision, or you'd be shot on sight."

Despite themself, Turmoil sputtered a laugh.

The tailor sighed, stepping forward and grabbing a sleeve, turning it inside-out to examine the material. "They don't make my job easy, either," she grumbled. "This material doesn't take kindly to being cut or folded." She stretched it a little to test it, then turned the sleeve out again and let it fall. "All right, chop-chop, I guess."

Turmoil took their costume, looking down at it with an ashamed sort of dread. This costume was ridiculous, and even the idea of putting it on made them feel stupid. They couldn't imagine what Tads' costume looked like. Or Third Degree's. They were both so resentful for the cards S.A.I. had dealt them.

There was a weight forming in Turmoil's throat. They inhaled deeply through their mouth to calm the heat, then took the costume to a dressing room. They closed the door with a soft click, then set the costume aside and began undressing.

The parol period they were looking at was a year. They'd spend a year with Seismic as their full-time sponsor, with supervised training and missions out into the city, and this awful costume. They hadn't had a costume before, not one like the heroes had. They wore red — the color of passion and blood — and blue — the color of truth and temperance — and they always wore thick makeup to hide their face from others. But when they'd finally been caught, their delicate little secret identity had been burned to a crisp, their wardrobe had been confiscated along with the rest of their belongings, and the papers and news stations made quick talk of how good it was that another villain was in prison. As Turmoil stood almost naked in the dressing room, the scratchy, glittering fabric in their hands, they thought again about how their personhood had been murdered in front of them.

They were living in a house now, with friendlier faces and home cooked meals. But in many ways, they were still a prisoner. And this costume was just another jumpsuit.

When they stepped out, the heavy, coarse fabric chaffing slightly in all the loose places, Turmoil could almost taste the pity on Overcast. They didn't like it, so they blocked her out as best they could, turning instead to the tailor. She motioned for them to step up onto the little pedestal, then began tugging and pinning the costume, starting at the waist. They kept their eyes forward, keeping the position the tailor had politely manipulated them into, and tried to push out the uninvited pain in their throat.

---

Turmoil climbed into the car, glad to leave that costume behind, even if it was only for a week. The car dipped as Overcast got in, her impressive frame settling into the seat.

"Now that that's over with," she huffed, buckling in. Turmoil followed her example.

"Uh," they started. They knew next was clothes shopping, and that usually meant department stores or big chain stores or malls. They didn't want the crowds or the big companies or the overworked energy. They were already choking again on the way Seismic had doted on Nine Lives during breakfast, the way he'd caught her pain and asked her softly what she wanted to eat. The gentle and patient love he'd shown her. It gathered up in Turmoil's throat like tar, sticking to everything and making it hard to breathe.

Overcast set a hand on their shoulder again. They blinked, then reached up and wiped at the gathering tears with a wet sniffle.

"Sorry," they whimpered.

"Take your time," she breathed. It had been three days now that Turmoil had been in the house, and including now, they'd cried five times. It was actually less often than it had been in the prison, but they knew painfully well it wasn't normal in the least.

They wished bitterly that their fellow prisoners had managed to bruise the "habit" out of them.

"There's a thrift store," they croaked, sniffing again and wiping their eyes. They cleared their throat. "Just off of south main." They blinked, looking out through the windshield, and dabbed their nose dry. "Can we go there?"

"Of course, baby," Overcast replied softly. She gave them a gentle squeeze before letting go and starting the car. She was really nice, especially when they got like this. But it probably wouldn't last long. It was fine, though. By the time everyone started to get sick of the crying, they'd have figured out all of the decent hiding places in the house.

---

Turmoil came into their shared room, laundry basket in hand, to find Nine Lives sitting on their bed. They stopped dead in the doorway, looking at her with wide eyes as she scrolled slowly on her phone. Third Degree was also in the room, sitting on his bed, focused on his laptop.

Turmoil wasn't sure what to do. It was possible that Nine Lives just hung out with Third Degree a lot, and this had been her habit prior to the bed being claimed. But they didn't seem to be interacting at all right now.

Actually, how similar to a cat was Nine Lives? Turmoil didn't really know her powers, and while the animal aspect category was straightforward enough, the spectrum was broad. Nine Lives had the eyes of a cat, but did she have any behaviors? Was she spending time with Third Degree just by being in the same room, or was her plan to force Turmoil to interact with her by being in the way?

Oh, God, was Turmoil overthinking this? It… it really sucked not using their powers. They never used to be this unsure about people.

They set the laundry hamper down on the floor instead of the bed. Nine Lives looked up slightly, but didn't say anything as Turmoil quietly started folding their clothes.

Their heart beat a little harder as she watched. She didn't move a muscle to get off of the bed, and they specifically didn't look at her as they folded their clothes on the foot of the mattress. They were almost done with their non-delicates when she suddenly laid back on an elbow and reached out to examine a shirt.

"Are you grunge or something?" she asked conversationally. Turmoil faltered, watching her lay on her back, dark hair fanning out on the plain, gray comforter, holding a shirt up and letting it unfold above her so she could look at the faded design on it. They wanted so badly to know what was going on in her head, but her emotions weren't strong enough to feel without reaching out.

"Uh, actually, er, kind of?" Turmoil looked down and carefully resumed folding. Their mind flickered to their cell bars, the scratchy cot, getting cornered in the cafeteria, and the pain and anger they'd held that had brought them to that place. "I'm a punk."

"Oh, cool," Nine Lives said, very much like someone who didn't care. Third Degree was suddenly paying rapt attention to Turmoil; they could feel it like claws grazing their back. Between the sense of apathy and the cutting curiosity, a sensation of being alone suddenly crashed over Turmoil's shoulders. They ached to reach out to Seismic, knowing now on instinct that his emotions were the most stable of the household and wanting to avoid their own.

They set down their clothes, their throat stiffening. They'd fold the rest later.

"I forgot something," they lied. They turned around and left the room, keeping their footsteps quiet.

---

#Fayte writes #writeblr #writing #reformed villain #hero and villain #this chapter took me forever to write #@_@#sorry if it's a little choppy #I feel like I'm trying to pack a lot of stuff into the rising action of this story and that seems to be a major side effect #barely edited

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corbenic · 2 years ago

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I'm new to tumblr, so I haven't had the chance to mention it much, but I am working on a novel starring fictional Bonapartes. Here's what my protagonist, E-- (aka S.A.I. La Princesse Impériale/HIH The Princess Imperial) wears for the reception at Buckingham Palace.

Eyeshadow - Dior 5 Couleurs Couture eyeshadow palette in "Nude Dentelle"

2. Lipstick - Clé de Peau lipstick in "Confident in Coral"

3. Perfume - Trudon eau de parfum in "Elae"

4. Gown - Safiyaa embellished crepe gown

5. Earrings - Chaumet diamond and pearl earrings

6. Drink to toast with - kir royale

7. Watch - Cartier diamond and pearl evening watch

8. Clutch - Roger Vivier RV Bouquet bag

9. Food to serve - gougères, because cheese puff pastries are always a good idea

10. Shoes - Chloe Gosselin Busy heels

Her husband, J-- (S.A.I. Le Prince Impérial/HIH The Prince Imperial) is also there. He wears a suit and a kicky Charvet tie.

#royalfandomvirtualcoronationparty2023 #may5virtualpalacereception #sunglassesnovel

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princesscolumbia · 2 months ago

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Code of Ethics, Ch. 37:

Diane snorted in dark amusement. Considering ‘the strike’ (as the people outside the wall were calling it) in which the S.A.I. held the U.N. and all the world’s automated systems hostage was the entire reason she had a job with the agency, that was entirely correct, “Yeah, not much time to myself these days.” She touched the back of her hand to the carafe of the press, noting that the temperature was about right for the amount of time the grounds had needed to steep for the drink to taste right, she pulled a couple of mugs from the cabinet and poured, inhaling deeply of the steam that arose. Caitlynn chuckled, “And you said this isn’t coffee?” Diane rolled her eyes, “Back on Mortan this stuff is prepared by boiling the pods un-baked and un-ground for three days. The grounds are a fairly recent invention as far as cultural drinks go. Around the invention of air travel on Mortan they came up with a way to boil the pods to a paste, dry the paste to bricks, then the bricks could be shipped easily and then ground to make...” she set a mug in front of her guest, “...instant Jyantin Tonic.” Caitlynn cocked an eyebrow, “What, no cream or sugar?” “Doesn’t need it,” smiled Diane, “The syrup that gets dried into bricks has enough natural sugar in it adding more would be overkill.” She demonstrated by taking a sip and moaning expressively, only partially done for effect. For the first time since answering the video call that morning Diane was blessed with the sight of Caitlynn blushing. “Well,” she said as she picked up her mug, “If it makes that pretty voice make a noise like that,” ...aaaaaaand now Diane was blushing again, “Then I’ll just have to try it as the chef recommends.” Diane watched as Caitlynn brought the mug to her lips, and suddenly she couldn’t look away from said lips as they curled to match the shape of the mug and the owner of said lips took a sip. Diane’s throat went dry again as Caitlynn made a satisfied, “Mmmm!” noise. “My goodness!” Caitlynn said with a smile as she lowered the mug from her lips, “That is rather delightful! And this isn’t alcoholic?” Diane smirked, “Nope. The alcoholic version is called Jyantin Bitters and will knock you on your backside. I’ve had straight vodka that isn’t as strong as a Jyantin Bitters.” The other player cast a skeptical eye at the contents of her mug, “Incredible...I could swear,” she took another sip and nodded her head, “Whiskey. I could swear I taste whiskey!” Diane circled the end of the bar, “Nope, but apparently the human tastebuds think so. It just tastes like a particularly odd but pleasant chocolate to me.”

If you can't do this on the fly for your fic as you're writing it, you need to work on your worldbuilding skills.

Fuck that post going around saying "you can have coffee in your story without justifying it :) you don't need to explain everything :)" I want, no, I DEMAND a fully researched ethnobotanical paper on every single food item in your work, if you don't explain to me where did potatoes come from in your fantasy setting or don't explain how the industry of coffee works over interstellar distances with full detail you are doing things wrong and I personally hate you and I hate your stupid story, fuck you

#code of ethics

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archviesaix-sna · 4 days ago

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28-31 mai 1807

Célébration des jeux de la Fête-Dieu en présence de la princesse Pauline qui se rendait aux eaux du Gréoux

Procès-verbal de la Fête-Dieu, en l’an 1807

Source : Archives Municipales d'Aix-en-Provence Cote du document : fonds AA 55 ; pièce F° 377 v°

Page 1.

Savoir faisons nous Jean Baptiste Boniface de Fortis, maire d’Aix, que le jeudi vingt huit mai mil huit cent sept à quatre heures après midi, en exécution de notre arrêté du vingt-quatre du courant ordonnant pour cette année, la célébration des cérémonies qui étoient jadis en usage, le jour de la fête-Dieu, nous nous sommes rendus dans la salle de l’administration à l’Hôtel de ville avec MM. Antoine Alexis et Gaston Marius Ovide d’Olivary, nos adjoints, et avons procédé de suite à la proclamation des officiers qui marcheront dimanche prochain à la procession.

Nous avons proclamé pour lieutenant de Prince le sieur Jacques Joseph Augustin Arnaud, étudiant à l’école de Droit de cette ville ;

Pour guidon de Prince, le sieur Suchet fils, négociant ;

Pour Roi de la Bazoche, le sieur Bourgogne fils ;

Pour guidon de Roi, le sieur Houchard fils ;

Et pour abbé de la ville, le sieur Assenat, tailleur.

Ces proclamations faites, nous nous sommes rendus avec messieurs nos adjoints, précédés du corps de musique des gros tambours et des trompettes de la ville, suivis du secrétaire en chef et du receveur municipal, et escortés par un déttachement de la garde départementale, chez chacun de messieurs les officiers ci-dessus nommés pour leur faire part de leur nomination, et ce en commençant par l’abbé qui nous a accompagnés chez le guidon du Roi ; tous deux nous ont accompagnés chez le Roi de la Bazoche et ainsi desuite chez le lieutenant de Prince, d’où nous sommes retournés à l’Hôtel de ville avec tous lesdits officiers auxquels nous avons confié le choix des batonniers, capitaines des gardes, porte enseignes, mignons, etc qui devront les accompagner à la procession.

Page 2.

Le samedi suivant, 30 mai, les jeux se sont répandus dès le matin dans la ville, pour amuser le public et à six heures du soir ils se sont réunis, par nos ordres, sur le cours [Mirabeau], au devant de l’hôtel de Forbin où se trouve logée S.A.I. la princesse Pauline sœur de S.M. l’Empereur, passant à Aix pour se rendre aux eaux de Greoux. Cette princesse a daigné paroitre au balcon et sourire aux divertissements que les jeux ont exécuté simultanément. Le public a saisi cette occasion avec empressement pour témoigner à S.A. la joye qu’il ressentait de sa présence, et l’air a retenti pendant long temps des cris de vive la princesse Pauline ! vive l’empereur Napoléon !

A huit heures du soir, les batonniers de l’abbadie et peu de momens aprèz ceux de la Baroche, sont partis de la place de la métropole et ont fait le tour de la procession en exécutant le pas d’arme, vulgairement nommé la passade. Ils ont observé le défilé devant l’hôtel de S.A. suivant ce qui sera dit ci-après quant au tour de la procession.

A neuf heures précises, le guet composé des divinités du paganisme est sorti de l’Hôtel de ville et a parcouru les principaux quartiers jusqu’à minuit. Son Altesse a paru satisfaite du pas d’armes et du guet dont la marche étoit éclairée par une infinité de flambeaux.

Le dimanche trente et un mai, les jeux ont continué dès le matin à amuser le public. Les tambours de la ville ont parcouru les rues et ont donné des aubades aux fonctionnaires publics.

A dix heures, l’abbé de la ville, le lieutenant du Roi et le Roi de la Bazoche, le guidon du Prince et le lieutenant du Prince se sont rendus à l’Hôtel de ville, précédés de leurs batonniers, capitaines des gardes, porte-enseignes, mignons etc et suivis d’un grand nombre de leurs amis portant des rubans aux couleurs distinctives de chaque grand-officier.

Page 3.

Ce nombreux cortège nous a précédés ainsi que monsieur le sous-préfet qui s’étoit réuni à nous, dans notre marche de l’Hôtel de ville à l’église métropolitaine St Sauveur.

Arrivés devant la porte du chœur, l’abbadie et le Bazoche se sont rendus dans la chapelle de corpus domini où on a célébré pour elles une messe basse.

Le lieutenant de Prince, son guidon, leurs batonniers et leur suite sont entrés avec nous dans le chœur où nous avons occupé nos places accoutumées, ainsi que messieurs de la cour d’appel, de la cour de justice criminelle, des tribunaux de première instance et de commerce, messieurs les juges de paix, etc ; à qui s’y étoient rendus séparément. Messieurs les directeur et professeurs de l’école de Droit étoient placés hors du chœur dans la chapelle dite de Ste Catherine, le lieutenant de prince et son guidon seront placés dans les hautes states, après notre second adjoint et avant le secrétaire en chef de la mairie. Leurs batonniers et leur suite ont occupé le milieu du chœur, sur des chaises. A l’issue de la grande messe qui a été célébrée par monseigneur l’archevêque, nous sommes retournés à l’Hôtel de ville, dans le même ordre que dessus.

A quatre heures après midi, l’abbadie a commencé à défiler dans l’église St Sauveur, est sortie par la grande porte et a commencé le tour de la procession ; elle a été suivie par la Bazoche ; venoient ensuite les le guidon du Prince et le lieutenant du Prince, lesquels parvenus devant l’hôtel de S.A.I. ont sollicité et obtenu l’honneur de lui être présentés et de lui offrir, suivant l’usage, des fleurs et des sucreries.

Cependant nous nous étions rendus à St Sauveur ainsi que les cours de justice, tribunaux et autres autorités constituantes pour assister aux vêpres, à l’issue desquelles la procession a commencé à défiler par la grande porte, dans l’ordre suivant :

Page 4.

La croix de la métropole qui ouvrait la marche ;

Les commissaires d’humanité de l’œuvre des prisons ;

Les administrateurs du mont de piété ;

Les administrateurs du bureau de bienfaisance, dit l’hospice la miséricorde ;

Les administrateurs des hospices civils réunis, précédés des familles des hopitaux, la charité et St Jacques ;

Le clergé de la paroisse St Jean Baptiste extra-muros ;

Celui de la paroisse St Jean Baptiste intra-muros ;

Celui de la paroisse de la Magdeleine ;

Celui de la paroisse St Jérôme, ou St Esprit ;

Celui de la paroisse St Sauveur, tous précédés de leur croix ;

Messieurs les directeur et professeurs de l’école de Droit ;

Les prieurs de la confrairie de corpus domini avec leurs panonceaux ;

Le clergé de la métropole en chappe ;

Le St Sacrement, porté sous un daix par monseigneur l’archevêque ;

Monsieur le conseiller d’État préfet du département, et toutes les autres autorités et fonctionnaires, dans l’ordre prescrit par le Décret impérial du 24 messidor an XII.

Il est à observer qu’en suite d’une ordonnance rendue à notre réquisition par monseigneur l’archevêque le 28 mai, il y a eu un changement dans le tour de la procession, suivant lequel lorsqu’elle est parvenue au bout de la rue de la pureté ou, ou de Notre Dame de Nazareth, au lieu de passer par les rues de St Esprit, place St Honoré et de la miséricorde, elle a pris la rue des augustins et l’allée latérale du cours jusqu’au coin de la rue orbitelle où elle a repris son tour accoutumé.

D’après la même ordonnance, on avait établi un reposoir au milieu du cours devant l’hôtel occupé par Son Altesse.

La présence de S.A. avoit attiré dans la ville un prodigieux concours d’étrangers, ce qui a singulièrement contribué à donner

Page 5.

beaucoup d’éclat et un grand caractère de gaieté à la fête. Le public a passé la nuit aux divers bals qu’ont donné les grands officiers qui avoient marché à la procession. On a remarqué surtout celui dont le lieutenant de Prince a fait tous les fraix, au rez de chaussée de l’hôtel de monsieur d’Éguilles. Le local étoit très élégamment disposé et ce qui en faisoit le principal ornement étoient les ingénieux emblemes dont étoient entourés les chiffres de S.A.I. et de sa majesté notre invincible monarque.

Le plus grand ordre a régné dans tout le cours de la fête dont le motif et les circonstances seront longtemps gravés dans le cœur et le souvenir des habitants d’Aix et de tout ce que dessus, nous avons dressé le présent procès-verbal à Aix, en l’Hôtel de ville, le premier juin mille huit cent sept.

#Pauline Bonaparte #1807 #Archives Municipales : Aix-en-Provence

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maximuswolf · 1 month ago

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S.A.Y feat Pete D. Moore - Music Takes You Higher [dance]

S.A.Y feat Pete D. Moore - Music Takes You Higher [dance] https://youtu.be/V2TZkXmpO6s?feature=shared Submitted October 09, 2024 at 09:39AM by AmonoHere https://ift.tt/HVc2CSo via /r/Music

#IFTTT #reddit

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rosariodelmar · 4 months ago

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Historia

En el año 1995, un grupo de cofrades, quisieron reabrir al culto la Capilla de Real Hospital Provincial de Santa María Magdalena. Se decide crear una Asociación que de alguna forma aglutine a las personas del barrio y se denomina civilmente con el nombre de “Asociación de Santa María Magdalena”. Entre los fines de dicha asociación figuraba la “Recuperación de la Capilla de Santa María Magdalena para el culto Católico”, y así lo lograron. Cuando se cumplían 25 años de su cierre, y al contar con el apoyo del presidente de la Diputación Provincial Tomás Azorín Muñoz. Así es que el Domingo de Ramos 9 de abril de 1995 reabrieron sus puertas con la celebración de la Santa Misa del Domingo de Ramos en la Pasión del Señor.

Como objetivos prioritarios de esta Asociación, se fija acondicionar el recinto para el culto católico por la carencia de signos religiosos, Sagrario, Custodia, puertas e iluminación del Altar Mayor, lámparas, bancos, apliques, etc. El 11 de febrero de 1996, el Obispo de la Diócesis el Excmo. Y Rvdmo. Sr. Doctor D. Rosendo Álvarez Gastón, celebra el día mundial del enfermo en la Capilla, dejando desde ese momento reservado el Santísimo.

El 11 de octubre de 1998, se celebro el II Rosario de la Aurora, por la histórica zona de la Alcazaba de Almería. El 24 del mismo mes, se volvió a realizar un Solemne traslado a la S.A.I Catedral para que la prestigiosa y acreditada periodista del Vaticano, Doña Paloma Gómez Borrero, realizaría la “I Exaltación al Santo Rosario”, bajo el lema, “Un Papa Mariano en Almería”, destacando la importancia del Santo Rosario en la vida de Juan Pablo II y en la de la Madre Teresa de Calcuta.

En el año 2000, se solicita al Excmo. Y Rvdmo. Sr. Dr. D. Rosendo Álvarez Gastón, la creación de una Asociación Privada de Fieles, que es aprobada en fecha 15 de octubre del mismo año, con el nombre de “Asociación Ntra. Sra. del Rosario del Mar en sus Misterios Dolorosos, Ntro. Padre Jesús de las Penas en el Abandono de sus discípulos y Santa María Magdalena”.

En asamblea general, el 26 de octubre de 2002, se aprueba solicitar tras los pasos reglamentarios constituirse en Hermandad, y cuyo nombre seria: “Hermandad y Cofradía de Nazarenos de Nuestra Señora del Rosario del Mar en sus Misterios Dolorosos, Nuestro Padre Jesús de las Penas en el Abandono de sus Discípulos y Santa María Magdalena”.

La Cofradía realiza su primera salida procesional con nazarenos el Sábado de Pasión de 2005 desde la Capilla de Santa María Magdalena. El 7 de octubre de 2006, onomástica de la Virgen del Rosario, el Obispo Excmo. Y Rvdmo. Sr. Dr. D. Adolfo González Montes firma el decreto 25/206 por el que queda erigida canónicamente la nueva Hermandad.

En el año 2011, se estrenan nuevos pasos que, por escasa altura de la puerta de la Capilla del Hospital, saldríamos del patio contiguo del nuevo centro de Alta Resolución Nicolás Salmerón. Al año siguiente, ante la negativa por parte del Servicio Andaluz para la salida del patio del Centro de Alta Resolución, la Cofradía saldría de un edificio municipal en la ronda del Beato Diego Ventaja. En el año 2014, y tras el cierre de la Capilla del Hospital (sede canónica de la hermandad), las Sagradas Imágenes Titulares se trasladan a la Iglesia Parroquial de San Juan Evangelista, cambiando la sede canónica a esta última, siendo la que posee en la actualidad. Al haberse convertido el edificio municipal en el Museo de la Guitarra, sale del patio de la sede de Cruz Roja Española, conocida como las atarazanas.

En el año 2015, se solicita con el V.B de nuestro Consiliario D. Tomás Cano Rodrigo, el Titulo de Dominicana, concediéndose el 23 de enero del mismo año por Fray Miguel de Burgos Núñez O.P, Prior Provincial y ratificado en extracto de acta del Consejo de Provincia celebrado en el Real Convento de Predicadores de Valencia, el 22 de febrero de 2015 en su punto nª3. El Consejo de Provincia es informado que se le ha concedido mediante Decreto de Petición, la gracia de vincularse espiritualmente a la Orden y usar el Titulo de “ Dominicana” , así como colocar el escudo de nuestra Orden en su insignias, firmado por Fray Carmelo Preciado Medrano OP. Secretario de Provincial. En el 2018, Decreto 5/2018 del 13 de febrero, por el cual se otorga el <<nihil obstat>>.

La Cofradía desde 2015 realiza su estación de penitencia la tarde del Jueves Santo desde la Iglesia Conventual de Santo Domingo el Real, de la Orden de Predicadores de los Dominicos, ante la imposibilidad de salir por las escasas medidas de la puerta de la Iglesia de San Juan.

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canyoufinditinyourhaarp · 4 months ago

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A line from each album to describe this:

"Let me know when you've had enough." - Clear, R.A.B (josh to tyler)

"In Trench, I'm not alone." - Leave the City, Trench (tyler to himself)

"You don't have to drop- drop- drop- drop anything... for me." - At The Risk Of Feeling Dumb, Check In Clancy (tyler to josh)

"And I'll be holding on to you." - Holding On To You, Vessel (josh to tyler)

"Don't forget about- bout- bout- bout- bout me." - Doubt, B.F (tyler to josh)

"I know it's over...." - Choker, S.A.I (tyler to himself)

"When did you believe you were alone?" - Friend, Please, T.O.P (josh to tyler)

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angelprickandholysemen · 7 months ago

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t.h.e.y. s.a.y. psychosis is when the Symbolic is reduced to an empty signifier

has it ever been anything else?

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allyluscious · 8 months ago

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Ivan Anderson S.A.I. "Secrets" Boy & Girl Print Signed & Framed 13" x15 ".

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crxssjae · 10 months ago

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Chapter Zero: Know, Not to Know

Summary:

Sami didn't expect Hunter to reveal who were the current Tag Team Champions.

You can read the other fics from my WWE masterlist here.

"Something About You" is posted on AO3 (here) and Wattpad (here)

Warning(s): 18+

CH.ONE ->

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Current Year: 2014

April 24, 2014

Eleven months, twenty-eight days, a special welcome from the NXT roster with doors wide open to Sami felt nostalgic, devoid of acknowledgment of how the future held within the vision. Those expectations lurked endless, different paths until the bright lights held if the choices were correct.

The month of May, the twenty-second in 2013, debuted on live television. At first, fans gave suspicious glances and arched brows after he stepped into the business, unsure who the man was in the opening match— when he gained a victory against his first opponent. More came about as Sami returned, receiving an impressive promo, speaking in different languages at his second opponent, who finished his match before losing against him later on. Surprise rippled the crowd's expression, opinions changed, and he became their fan favorite.

Such fire of passion outgrew the nerves in his chest. No wonder the fans cherish it.

The first person to give compliments backstage is Cesaro, shortened for Antonio Cesaro. Butterflies ached his stomach, stirring up if the decision of the match was decent or not. Cesaro understood the fear and didn't mind eating the pin for the crowd to appreciate him, filled with gratitude. Nevertheless, Sami will not forget some wrestlers can be cocky and arrogant, taunting their performances and pressuring their self-confidence, leading those to doubt their self-esteem and backstage heat. As for him, he clicked with Cesaro in an instant, becoming friends.

His achievements in 2013 were worth the shot: wins, losses, cheated out, hell, being banned by the former NXT Champion, unable to become the number one contender for the championship. If you ask if he did get banned, Sami will answer yes, crystal clear. He'd even used a mask to earn the chance.

The next time the champion tried to ban him from completing the title shot, Sami could wear it again for emergencies.

Over time, the crowd would get bored of this tactic, bringing up the similarities between the mask change and "Twin Magic" he heard of. Never mind, the strategy is off his list.

Now in backstage's gorilla position, hazel eyes full of enthusiasm and wonder, observing two or three matches on the television monitor— while creating hand gestures of the moves and signatures. Mouthing words is like taking notes in a notebook of his wrestling experience. Sami is lost in thought, no one notices.

He never paid attention to a firm pat on the shoulder, so absorbed in the television.

"Quite in a daze, are you?"

Recognizing the serene voice too well, uttering a high-pitched yelp from Sami and jolts off the chair, turning his attention to the boss who created NXT, Hunter Helmsley. He had no idea how silent Hunter roamed across the hallway, joining conversations with other coworkers and crew members. How did no one see it?

Sami stood his posture and flashed a gentle smile on his face. "Sorry, sir, I was just… amazed by the recent matches you've had paired."

He forgot to keep his energy under control, leading to an ongoing blabber of analysis.

"The way Charlotte and Sasha had this… this good chemistry whenever being placed in a tag team match. Pretty insane, am I right? They did a great job! Oh, and let's not forget about Tyson and Mason—"

"Whoa, whoa, deep breaths!" Hunter cracked up a laugh. "I don't want to send you out there with no oxygen left."

Sami stopped, mumbling an apology, took a couple of breaths, and nodded as he prepared to listen.

"Now listen carefully. Corey and The Ascension are paired for the Six-Man Tag Team Match tonight. Some were a handful— and couldn't come here while, well, you get the point of how they are. Until I finally got one," Hunter grumbled some cursing under his breath so Sami couldn't hear, then cleared his throat. "They're currently in the main roster and are in the RAW brand. A month ago, they became the Tag Team Champions and still are."

Sami blinked with a skeptical stare. "Is it the… the, um, the New Age Outlaws or something…?"

"Lost the titles at RAW. Held them for about thirty-six days," Hunter reminded him. "Surprising, I know."

I am not surprised.

During breaks, he watched a few tag team matches on his phone. Some were paired and ended up being over by the fans; however, there can be a higher percentage of choices when the wrestlers are partnered in a random hand with no reason, leading to confusion and no chemistry.

"Let's get back to the topic," Hunter continued. "The Tag Team Champions will be here soon. Hopefully, Breeze and Angelo can hold onto their match to give them extra time."

Oh, the word he despised the most gave the icky feeling: hopefully.

Are the champions good to work with? Will they get along with him, no matter if he's a great person with respect once they arrive? Will they ever visit on time?

"Who are the Tag Team Champions?" Sami questioned in a nervous tone, with determination filled in his eyes.

There can be no regret in asking the boss.

Sami noticed the corner of Hunter's mouth curled into a smile. Some joy danced, no mischief in the slightest.

Biting his bottom lip, when Hunter told him who are the current Tag Team Champions, his eyes blazed in shock.

"The Usos, Jimmy and Jey."

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Thank you for reading!

Tagging: @southerngirl41, @coolpandasblog, *@bbkquartz, @rosiel77, *@katiewayne2020

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#sami zayn #jey uso #samijey #jeysami #sami zayn fanfiction #jey uso fanfiction #samijey fic #wwe fanfiction #s.a.y-verse fics #crxssjae writes

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francebonapartiste · 6 months ago

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Voici quelques belles photos prises par Patricia Chereau, que nous remercions chaleureusement, lors de cette journée du 5 mai 2024 en commémoration du 203ème anniversaire de la mort de l'Empereur Napoléon Ier.

Présence de S.A.I. le Prince Jean-Christophe Napoléon mais également de S.A.R. le Prince Murat.

Nous vous les partageons ici.

#france #napoleon #bonaparte #napoleon bonaparte #paris #Invalides #5mai

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faytelumos · 2 years ago

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Playing Nice

This is a short one for me. It's supposed to have a second scene, and I might eventually add it as a part two.

This takes place like a week before part one of Illusory.

cw: repeated mentions of child abuse