#people on instagram are liking this because i tagged it with orlando

[lettersagainsttransphobia]

An anonymous letter received as part of our project, featuring an honest attempt at drawing a lighthouse (as a reference to To The Lighthouse). There are also waves at the bottom. In the light shining from the lighthouse, it reads:

The first book I about a trans person I ever read was Orlando, by Virginia Woolf. My English teacher gave it to me after they found out I was trans. It was so beautiful to me, and we spent an hour after class talking about it. I just want to have those conversations, share my thoughts and experiences with someone who understands me. (He/him)

_____

Is there a particular book, or another piece of media, that has helped you to figure out who you are, or otherwise shaped your identity? Let us know by clicking the link in our pinned post—all submissions are completely anonymous.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Whisky Secrets (sequel)

Here's something different. Before I ever thought about posting fanfic here, I used to write things inspired by fanfic I found by some of the incredible writers I found on tumblr. I've never posted any of them but I've really felt like writing something for Aleister Black/ Tommy End lately.

So I reached out to one of my original favourites on this site, @ghostofviperwrites and asked her if she'd mind if I published this sequel I wrote to her story Whisky Secrets. She gave me the ok (for which I thank her very much).

You absolutely have to read her piece first or this won't make any sense. It picks up literally at the point where hers leaves off and the entire premise is based on what she wrote. I think this goes in a very different direction than what she had in mind, though.

Since this is an old story, some of the characters are very different than they are now. It was set at around the time I wrote it. Based on events in the story, it's pretty clear when that was.

It's a bit dated but I hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Aleister Black x OFC (hints of Roman Reigns x OFC)

Word count: 7,031

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, language, incidental roughness that some might find stressful

You rested on the sofa for too long, knowing that you had to get to work, that you were already behind on an assignment that was due that afternoon. As much as you desperately wanted to cling to the scent and the feeling of him being there with you and the idea that he might someday want to be there with you for longer, you knew that you were only wasting time by indulging in a fantasy. Once again, you reminded yourself, he saw you as a friend, a landing pad after he was finished his adventures. And so you dragged yourself to the computer and tried to focus.

It was a fluff piece you’d been hired to write: places for new residents of Orlando to meet people. You’d accepted it because the pay was good and it had seemed easy. But what the hell did you know about meeting people? You’d barely met anyone and the only ones that you’d call friends were the ones you met when you’d done an in-depth profile on the WWE and their development territory NXT. Of those, only Aleister had remained close and even then, you couldn’t say that the two of you had ever properly opened up to each other. Nevertheless, you’d stayed in touch with a number of them, occasionally meeting for coffee or drinks. None of this was in any way useful when it came to recommending locations to connect with strangers.

You’d tried to start the article the day before but now when you opened the file, you discovered that you’d only come up with a half a dozen corny titles and one word of text:

When?

The word was too painfully appropriate.

When were you going to run out of luck and be unable to find further work as a journalist?

When were you going to admit that what kept you here, rather than moving to another state and pursuing more secure work, was the fact that you were in love with a man who was only interested in your capacity as a friend and caregiver?

When was your hopeless love going to break you beyond repair?

Annoyed with yourself, you deleted the word and tried to start again. You could meet people at the gym classes that were ubiquitous in this city. You could meet people at get-togethers for shared hobbies like hiking or pottery or basically anything. No one had to meet people by getting thrown into their orbit and being unable to extricate themselves.

About half an hour into your resentful hammering on the keyboard, you were startled by your doorbell. For one sweet instant, you imagined that it was Aleister dropping by to pass some time with you. Then you realized that he never came to you without an invitation unless it was dead drunk in the middle of the night. Even when you invited him, it was only every fourth or fifth time that you asked that he agreed to come over and watch a movie or go for a walk in the nearby park. There was no way it was him at your door at eleven o’clock in the morning.

In fact, the person at your door was Bayley, chipper and warm as always, returning the spare laptop you’d lent her a few weeks before.

“Thank you so much,” she beamed, thrusting the computer into your hands. “You are a lifesaver. I’d have lost my goddamn mind if I hadn’t had this while mine was in the shop.”

“It was nothing,” you insist, smiling at her unconstrained warmth even though you didn’t feel very positive about your life at that moment. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”

She nodded cheerily and stepped across the foyer. You never really knew how you fit in with the women of WWE, even though you’d spoken to many of them in depth. Bayley stood out because she was determined to be your friend despite your introvert’s reluctance. And, indeed, she was irresistible. Much like her in-ring character, she cast sunshine wherever she went and her glow was contagious, even in your darkest and lowest moments.

You motioned her into the kitchen, offering her a choice of lemonade, iced tea or water. Her eyes immediately fell on the empty whiskey bottle you’d left on the counter, her expression growing more serious as she focused on it.

“Getting started early?” she cajoled.

“A friend left that here,” you replied guiltily.

She narrowed her dark eyes as she looked at you. Sweet and optimistic as she was, Bayley was not naïve. She knew exactly what friend had left the bottle behind and she knew how you felt about him.

“I’ll have a glass of lemonade,” she said, the smile slowly returning to her face.

You joined her and the two of you jokingly touched glasses before drinking.

“So, a few of us are getting together tonight,” she said hesitantly. “I thought you might like to join us.”

Your first instinct was to ask if Aleister would be there, but you thought better of it. Instead, you responded, “Well, I have an article I need to finish.”

Of course, your article was due by the end of the afternoon, which meant that your evening was free regardless, but part of you wanted to be at home in case Aleister came staggering over again.

Bayley’s jaw set in a determined expression you’d only seen from her in the ring. “We’re having a party for Roman, to celebrate him going into remission.”

Well now you felt like a bit of a bitch for making excuses and didn’t know what to say.

“It won’t just be wrestlers there. Some other journalists are even coming. And I know that it would mean a lot to him if you were there.”

When you’d done your article on the WWE, you’d interviewed Roman Reigns and he’d been incredibly generous with his time. He’d even contacted you after your interviews to confirm that you had all the detail you needed. He was the face of the company and had done everything possible to make sure that the company had provided what you required. He’d clearly wanted to make sure they’d left a good impression and you couldn’t help but be impressed by his PR skills. Although you knew it wasn’t true that it “would mean a lot to him”, you were touched by the idea that he remembered you and might like you to be there to celebrate his great news. At the same time… you needed to be there for Aleister.

“Look,” Bayley insisted, “I’m going to text you the details for the bar where we’ll be. It’s not a big deal, just a bunch of us getting together to be happy for our friend.”

There was no way that you could refuse that, so you shyly thanked her as she gulped the rest of her lemonade and made for the door.

“I’m serious,” she said as she departed. “You work so damn hard you deserve a night off. Finish what you’re doing and come have fun with us.”

As soon as she’d left, you once again sat down at your computer. Before you could return your attention to your work, however, you couldn’t resist checking Instagram.

Someone had tagged Aleister in a photo on Instagram.

Yes, you were that pathetic that you always checked.

With trepidation, you clicked the link to look at what was there. As it too often did, the notification came from an airbrushed-looking woman, her collagen-enhanced lips pressed against his. She looked arrogant and proud, while he looked smug and inebriated.

“Guess who I got to hang with last night?” the caption gloated.

You knew damn well what “hang” was a euphemism for. He never cared that the Barbie dolls he hooked up with advertised their conquest on social media. He was single and hot. Why should he care if people knew that he always scored with the sort of women other men lusted after? Why should he care that it ripped your heart to shreds every time you saw him with another woman so unlike you in every way?

The woman had posted a few other photos of the two of them together, embracing. Every part of her magazine-ready body was on display, save those parts that would have gotten her in trouble. Her artificially perfect breasts were spilling out of a tiny tube top while her endless legs were shown in their full glory between the edge of a skirt that likely required her to trim her pubic hair and the sky high heels that raised her enough to press her lips to his without having to stretch herself awkwardly. She was nothing like you, with your unkempt hair and loose, bohemian dresses, your comfortable ballet flats and blandly natural face. She had all the glamour that you lacked and he ate it up.

The images of the two of them cut into you like a laser and, for once, all you desired was to break free from the pain of feeling. A few minutes later, when Bayley sent the text she’d promised with the details of where you could find the party tonight, you immediately responded.

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

To hell with Aleister and the designer women he adored, you told yourself as you returned to your article with a vengeance. Tonight you were going to do whatever it took to break the spell he had cast over you.

*

It was just after nine when you found yourself teetering to the entrance of the bar where the party was taking place. It was marked only by a subtle sign, no words, just a stylized anchor, and it was hidden away on a tiny street that was hardly more than an alley. In your fit of pique, you’d finished your article two hours before your deadline and then, having examined the options in your closet and found them wanting, headed out and spent entirely too much money on a new dress that clung perfectly to your breasts before flaring out to highlight the movements of your body, while covering just the bare minimum to maintain decency. You’d also picked up a stylish pair of ankle boots with heels higher than you were used to and that posed a legitimate threat as you made your way down the roughly paved road to the speakeasy-style bar.

A little further down the alley, you see a couple leaning against a car, taking turns swigging from a liquor bottle. The woman is one of those glamorous animals that makes you so insecure, laughing in drunken delight in a way that only confident people can. In one quick movement the man spins her around and bends her over the hood of the car. He immediately takes out his cock, stroking it a couple of times before he thrusts into her, one hand on her back while the other holds the bottle that he continues drinking from. And it’s a moment before you realize that it’s Aleister, fucking away at a woman whose name he won’t remember in a few hours.

The sight makes you want to curl up and die, makes you want to say that you’ve made a mistake and run along home so you can bawl your eyes out while you wait for his inevitable drunken arrival. But, if nothing else, the damage that you’ve done to your credit card in order to make yourself look just a bit more sexy and edgy than usual, as well as the glasses of wine you had already consumed to fortify your courage, push you forward. This is a test. In order to pass, you need to be able to ignore the man whose indifference is killing you and enter the world of others, where someone who wasn’t up to the standards of the rarified model girls might be willing to give you a second look.

Aleister doesn’t even glance up as you enter the bar a few feet away from him, can’t feel the dark weight of your eyes on him or the force with which you tear them away as you step through the door.

As soon as you do, you are once again frozen with the idea that you’ve made a mistake. When Bayley characterized this as a “get-together”, you’d assumed it meant a group of people spread out around a few tables chatting away and toasting Roman’s health. Instead, what greets you is a basement club full of people with a dance floor alive with writhing bodies. You recognize a few journalists but for the most part, the space is taken up with every WWE and NXT star you’ve ever heard of. It’s a convention of beautiful people and you can’t help but feel dowdy even in your overpriced finery.

You slowly descend the stairs, fully intending to look around, say hello to a few familiar faces and then bolt for the exit, but you’re immediately greeted by a familiar voice that fairly shrieks. “Oh my god woman, just look at you!”

It’s Sasha Banks, standing at the edge of the stairs with Bayley, who gives you an exaggerated round of applause.

“Miranda, you look amazing,” Sasha continues breathlessly. “Seriously, you’re putting everyone to shame.”

You don’t feel like you’re putting anyone to shame, least of all Sasha in her body suit that hugs every curve of her perfect little hourglass, but you blush at the compliment.

“Come on,” Bayley gushes, “we need shots to celebrate your hotness!”

She pulls both of you through the crowd to the bar and somehow is able to get the bartender’s attention almost immediately, ordering two rounds of tequila shots because, she tells you and Sasha, there’s no point in getting just one round when you know you’re going back for seconds. The three of you toast and toss down the shots and then immediately do so again and you have to admit that you’re feeling the warm glow already. Sasha, apparently feeling something herself, wraps her arms around you and once again reassures you that you are devastatingly beautiful.

Another shot is thrust into your hand, this time by Dash Wilder, who’s arrived with his Revival partner Scott Dawson. Wilder has always been attractive to you, so you give him as radiant a smile as you can manage and you swear he blushes a little just before he downs his shot. Dawson is hugging Sasha and Bayley close to him, allowing Dash to edge a little closer to you and you’re feeling a little high on yourself when another voice cuts through your circle.

“Miranda? Holy fuck I can’t believe you’re here!”

Roman Reigns pushes right through the bodies close to the bar and grabs you firmly by the shoulders, his eyes gradually focusing on yours. He’s grinning with an intensity that clearly comes from his being a little past feeling no pain but it doesn’t hamper the thrill it gives you when he wraps his arms around you and nearly crushes you in a hug.

“I mean, shit, I don’t think I’ve even talked to you since you did that interview,” he pouts. “Thank you so much for coming.”

You smile as another shot is pushed into your hand, biting your lip self-consciously. You down about half the shot before Roman grabs it from you and finishes it, breaking up with laughter. He signals the bartender for another round, keeping an arm around your back until the tray of shots arrives. You’re all toasting each other and you wonder why you ever questioned yourself for coming here because this is exactly what you needed.

“Come dance with me,” Roman chuckles, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the dance floor. He’s clearly floating on a sea of drunken bliss, goofing around and happy to have someone to have fun with, someone he didn’t expect to be there. Even if you wanted to resist his offer, you couldn’t because, while he isn’t doing anything that might hurt you, his grip is strong enough and the rest of him powerful enough to compel you forward.

The two of you deliberately dance like complete nerds in high school, awkward movements and ironic posturing until you’re both laughing so hard you can barely stand. It’s then that you realize that you’ve become the focus of some attention; Roman goddamn Reigns, the face of the company, the locker room leader, the man who everyone has come to celebrate, is dancing with you. Most of the people here have no idea who you are but because you’re with Roman, you are somebody. Basking in the subtle attention and envy, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in the music, swaying to the beat until you feel a large pair of hands on your hips.

You open your eyes to see Roman pulling you closer to him with a devilish grin before spinning you around and pulling your back against his massive chest. You continue to move but at a slower pace, your movements limited by how close he’s holding you and the sensual way in which his body moves against yours. Keeping one arm loosely around you, he lets his other hand fall against your thigh, lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It makes you gasp.

“You never responded to any of my texts,” he murmurs gruffly in your ear.

You remember at least half a dozen messages asking if he could clarify anything or if you needed any additional material for your article. You hadn’t needed anything else but you suddenly feel terribly rude for not answering.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “you were very professional and I should have at least told you that I had what I needed.”

His voice drops even lower as he speaks. “I didn’t mean to be professional about them. And I was hoping that you didn’t have everything you needed.”

He pulls you up and firmly against him and for the first time you can feel his hardening cock through his pants. You can’t help but thrust your hips into him, barely able to process what’s happening to you. The two of you are still ostensibly dancing, although it’s more like a rhythmic grinding to the music as he reaches down and pulls the hem of your dress up, rubbing your thigh and then your ass as he presses his lips into your neck. His hands are everywhere on you and you’re aware that your entire lower body is basically on display for anyone who cares to look but you don’t care because it feels like you’ve won the lottery. You moan at the feeling of his growing excitement against your flesh, both his large hands grazing up the front of your thighs and for a moment you think that you’re ready to beg him to take you right there when you’re violently spun away from your dance partner, a bruising grip on your arm.

It’s Aleister, eyes incandescent with rage as he tells Roman, “I need to speak to her for a minute.”

Roman looks confused and tries to speak to you but Aleister drags you away and a gaggle of women immediately descend on Roman, desperate to take your place.

Aleister flings you against the wall, glaring at you with an intensity that you’ve never seen outside the ring.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls.

“I was dancing before you interfered,” you snap back at him, rubbing your arm.

“Dancing?” he repeats with derision. “That’s what you call that?”

“I was having fun.”

“What the hell are you wearing?”

For the first time since you saw him with his woman of choice outside, you feel ridiculous, like a girl trying to look glamorous by donning her mother’s clothes.

“I wanted something a little different.”

“A little?” he hisses back. “Do you realize what you look like? You’re all tarted up and letting some guy grab at you and get you half naked in front of a bar full of people.”

“What I look like?”

“Everyone could see practically your whole goddamned body. They could see what you were letting him do to you.”

“You mean to say I look like a whore.”

Aleister crosses his arms and glances away, refusing to confirm what you’ve said.

“So what, Aleister? So what if I’m letting a man touch me and show me that he wants me? Who cares who else sees? Maybe that’s what I want!”

“Are you so stupid that you think he wants you for anything other than a one night stand?”

The accusation stabs at your heart and your confidence but you’re determined not to let him see that.

“Again, so what? Maybe I’m happy to have this big, gorgeous man want me. Maybe I’m fine bringing him back to my place for a few hours of fun because at least it means someone is thinking of me as a sexual being for a change.” You pause, knowing the danger of what you’re about to say but unable to stop yourself. “Maybe I’d be fine if he just took me outside and fucked me over the hood of a car.”

For a second, you think that Aleister is going to strangle you. The look on his face is like the moment before the sky erupts in thunder and lightning. Truthfully, you expect that he’ll turn on his heel and walk away from you and never come back, and perhaps that’s what you need him to do so that you can get over him.

Instead, he grabs you, pinning you to the side of his body and pulling you towards the door. His movements make you stumble, and the more you try to resist him, the more ungainly you look.

“She’s dead drunk,” you hear him assure a few people, “I’m going to make sure she gets home.”

And while it’s true that you are drunk, you’re not nearly as drunk as he’s making you out to be. The second he has you outside, you try to twist away from him and go back, only for him to wind you closer, pulling you off balance so that you look even more inebriated.

You hear him whisper to Seth Rollins, who’s observing the spectacle through the corner of his eyes. “Look, tell Roman that she’s falling down drunk and I just had to get her home. No disrespect meant.”

Seth has a confused expression on his face but nods and tells him, “Sure thing.”

Realizing what Aleister is doing, you once again try to rush past him, but he blocks you, gripping your arm and pulling you after him so that you really do appear pathetically unable to take care of yourself.

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” you shout at him, figuring that there’s no reason to worry about who might hear you, there being no further you can sink in their estimation. “Why can’t you just let me enjoy myself?”

“Jesus, Miranda, you’re loaded. You can barely stand up.” He emphasizes this by jerking your arm forward, which almost causes you to keel over onto your face. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“No,” you insist, pulling yourself to a halt. “I knew what I was doing. I knew what I wanted. Sure I’m a bit tipsy but-“

“You don’t want that,” Alesiter snaps, threading his arm through yours and continuing down the street. “You don’t just want to whore yourself out for a night because you think it might help your self-esteem.”

“You don’t get to decide what I want, Aleister.” You’re crushed against his side and he’s moving so quickly that your feet only graze the ground every third or fourth step. “Let me go. I’m sick of playing the surrogate mother for someone who’s incapable of seeing me as a real woman. I want to go back there. I want to have someone make a show of wanting me. I want to get fucked so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Aleister shakes his head like a parent frustrated with a misbehaving child. “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”

“So let me be ridiculous!” you yell back, trying unsuccessfully to extricate yourself from his grip. “What the hell is it to you? Are you worried that for once I’m not going to be there when you need a place to collapse at four in the morning?”

The two of you reach the corner where the alley meets the street and he swings you to face him, glowering at you with a terrifying expression, gripping your biceps so hard you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. He says nothing but stares at you until he whips his arm out and hails a taxi seemingly out of nowhere.

He launches you, there’s no other word for it, into the back seat of the car and snarls your address to the driver as your tears start to fall. The cabbie is noticeably uncomfortable with your quiet whimpering and seems confused by the fact that Aleister does nothing to comfort or engage you. He sits with his arms folded, scowling, until you arrive at your building. Reflexively, you reach for your purse only to have Aleister swat your hand away and pay the driver himself. You try to keep pace as he yanks you towards the door, but stumble because of your unsure footing in these strange heels and because your vision is glazed by the tears you’re fighting to hold in.

When Aleister pins you against the door and rummages through your purse to find your keys, it somehow feels more invasive than Roman gripping your ass for an entire bar full of people to see. You feel, for a moment, that he is looking at you with tenderness. But when the door opens, he simply guides you through it. As you hear it click shut, the last of your strength, physical and emotional, gives out and you drop to your knees, finally allowing the tears to fall. It’s a full-on ugly cry, punctuated by guttural, anguished sounds you’d never allow anyone else to hear. Despite everything, you desperately want to hear the door open again behind you and to hear him say that he’s realized he loves you.

But no, in the end, he’s just found it gross that the woman he sees as his caregiver might have another side. He found you pathetic in your overpriced dress and shoes. He knew that you were desperately trying to act like something you could never be: like someone who could compete with the perfected Instagram beauties he fucks every night. You could never be that. He knew that you were just a sad little woman decked out in a gaudy outfit. You’d never be that sexy, desirable person who stopped men dead in their tracks, no matter what your dance with Roman had temporarily led you to believe.

You’re on your knees for what seems like hours, choking on tears and snot and trying to restrain yourself from howling. Just as the sound overpowers you and a low wail escapes your lips, you’re startled by a pair of arms, familiar, tattooed arms wrapping around your waist from behind.

“Shh. There’s no need for any of that,” he grunts into your hair.

And while you’re shocked and thrilled that he actually stayed behind to make sure that you were ok, it’s also even more humiliating that he’s seen you fall apart so spectacularly. Your body feels limp with defeat and unable to react at all as he gathers you up and carries you into your bedroom, setting you gently on the edge of the bed. He rests his hand on yours for a moment and you’re able to stem the flow of tears until he stands up and heads back towards the door. This time, you’re determined to hold in the worst of your misery until you’re sure he’s gone, even though you can’t stop the tears from running down your face.

But after a few minutes of straining to hear the door close, you see Aleister return, a damp washcloth in hand, and he sits once again beside you on the edge of the bed. He presses the cloth, cool and soothing, against your cheeks and then holds your chin as he delicately wipes it across your face. It takes you some minutes to realize that he’s removing your smeared makeup, cleaning you off so that you look good as new, so that you look more like the plain girl who lets him into her home in the middle of the night, his touch filled with a tenderness that you never imagined him capable of. When he’s satisfied with his work, he tosses the cloth aside and wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against him. The sweetness of his friendly gesture makes you want to cry all over again but you choke it back, knowing that you’ll have plenty of time for that when he’s gone.

“Can I stay here tonight?” he whispers, the sound of his voice making you feel weak.

You nod and roughly pull back from him, unsure of your ability to stop yourself from throwing yourself at him and begging him to wreck you. You fumble with the zipper of your boots until Aleister slides off the bed and onto his knees and removes it for you. He glides his hand along your calf, up to your thigh and then moves to your other boot. As he slides it off, he presses his head against the side of your knee, giving the skin a light kiss before rocking back on his haunches. You know he’s being gentle with you because he feels sorry for you. He finds you pitiful, which is even worse than finding you asexual.

The feelings are too much for you to take and all you can think of is that you want to get into bed where you’ll be safe and where you can sleep off the nightmare your evening out has become. You clumsily shed your dress, stockings, bra and panties without thinking much of the fact that you have an audience. Why should it bother him seeing you naked, after all? Normally, you put on some nightclothes but you don’t even have the strength to bother. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Aleister has turned his head towards the door. He’s embarrassed for you, the way you would be if a parent or sibling was undressing around you.

You crawl under the covers with a grumbled “good night” and immediately start to feel yourself drift off. You’re jolted back to wakefulness when Aleister climbs in beside you. In all the time you’ve known him, as many nights as he’s come and collapsed on your sofa, you don’t think he’s ever seen your bedroom. Now, having seen it, he’s apparently happy not to leave it, indulging in the comfort of your bed without even asking permission. It makes you a little self-conscious that you’re nude but it’s hardly the most humiliating thing to happen to you tonight, so you let yourself ignore it. If you can just fall asleep, this night will be over and you can begin the process of trying to forget it.

It’s only a matter of seconds, though, until you feel his body pressed against yours from behind, one hand coming to rest flat on your stomach and pushing you back against him so that you are acutely aware that you are not the only person naked in the bed. The hand on your stomach flutters downward until his fingers are moving lightly over your pussy, like he’s plucking the strings of a harp. His other arm wraps around your shoulders and keeps you flush against him, close enough that you can’t mistake the feeling of his erection against your back.

He presses his lips and tongue against your neck, making you whimper as you try to keep your heart rate stable. Your little noises seem to motivate him further, his touch becoming more insistent and one of his legs snaking over yours, pulling it back to give his hand greater access.

“Such a little fool,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking insistently along your fleshy folds. “Thinking I don’t see you as a sexual being.”

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out- more from the shock than the pain. His mouth continues to move around your neck and shoulders, nipping and sucking on the skin there, his grip on you tightening until it’s nearly painful.

“What are you doing?” you manage to ask.

“Leaving marks,” he says matter-of-factly.

You’re at a loss for what to say, but are saved from having to answer as he pushes two fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. You’re embarrassed that he must have felt how wet you were just from being in his presence but he says nothing, quickening his pace and giving satisfied little growls when his touch elicits gasps and cries of pleasure from you.

It’s pity, you remind yourself; what he’s doing to you, he’s doing it because he feels sorry for you and because he’s drunk and horny despite his encounter earlier in the evening. But the thought gets whisked away as he brings you closer and closer to what you’ve desperately needed from him for so long. You let out a little shriek when he removes his hand, unable to believe he’s so cruel as to bring you to the precipice and then deny you. But he simply flips you onto your back before pressing his fingers inside you once more, watching your reactions to be sure he’s hitting just the right spot before burying his face between your legs. His tongue, lips and fingers work together like an orchestra. Your knuckles are white from the force of clenching on the sheets and you’re biting down so hard on your lip to muffle the sounds you’re making that you’re worried your teeth will end up permanently embedded. He unexpectedly raises his head and stills the movement of his hand inside you and the shock is almost enough to make you start crying again. You look down at him, his eyes sparkling in the low light with an expression you can’t read.

“Why won’t you let me hear you?”

Because you don’t want him to know how good his merciful little gesture is making you feel. Because you don’t want to admit to yourself that it’s better than you’d imagined. Truthfully, whenever you’ve thought about the mechanics of sex with Aleister, you imagined that it would be fast and rough and hedonistic, much like his other sexual encounters seem to be. But he’s chosen this moment to take his time, to focus on his partner, rather than go for a quick, dirty fuck in a darkened corner.

You don’t tell him any of this, instead croaking out, “I’m shy.”

He raises himself up and over your body with the effortless grace of a serpent, pressing his head close to yours and kissing along your jawline.

“What do I have to do to make you not be shy?”

“I don’t know… I just… am.” You wriggle a little under him, turning your face away when he looks directly into your eyes.

He cups your face in one hand and runs the other, still wet with your juices, over your breast, teasing the nipple and making you shudder involuntarily.

“Am I moving too fast?”

You shake your head, not quite trusting your voice.

“Is there something that you’d enjoy more? Something you want me to do for you?”

You give him another little shake of the head.

“You don’t have to be shy with me. Whatever you want, I want you to tell me so I can give it to you. Anything.”

For the first time, he kisses you on the lips, his tongue, that still tastes of you, slides against yours and the hand at the side of your face slides to hold your neck, cradling your head so that you don’t have to tense any muscles to stay in that position. Your body has nothing it needs to do but experience the sensations he’s creating. Of course, you still answer his kiss, hungrily flashing your tongue against his, reveling in the light scrape of his lip ring against your lips. His hand glides back down between your legs, and even the proximity is enough to draw a couple of little mewls of pleasure. You feel him smile a little against your lips at the noises and he pulls away from the kiss.

“Am I making you feel good?”

You nod as he starts to work his fingers around your entrance once again.

“Do you want my mouth down there again?”

You nod even more vigorously than the first time but he shakes his head.

“Tell me. Say it out loud.”

You open your mouth to do so and he immediately thrusts his long fingers into your g-spot and your clit at once, making you yelp in pleasure. It’s almost enough to make you cum on its own but he eases the pressure before you reach that peak.

“Yes?” he asks again.

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

“Then let me hear you. Please.”

He returns his attention to your core and has you making all manner of unholy noises in short order. He expertly teases you and then holds back, so many times that when he does finally take you over the edge, you feel like you might pass out from the intensity of it. Your gasps for breath sound cavernous in the quiet room.

He keeps the palm of his hand firmly against you as he leans forward and presses his lips into your neck, letting out a satisfied purr every time an aftershock rolls through your body.

When he’s satisfied that you’ve fully come down, he raises himself up on his arms, giving just the hint of a smile when you grab onto his biceps to steady yourself.

He’s so rigid that he doesn’t even need a hand to guide himself into you. He simply presses forward in one slow but sure moment, his eyes closed as if it’s a kind of religious experience, not opening them until he’s fully seated inside you. It’s been long enough since you’ve been with anyone that the feeling of being stretched draws a little whimper from your throat. He remains still, his eyes open and bearing down on you with a delirious kind of excitement, aching prick twitching inside you, desperate to proceed but waiting for a signal that he can.

And it’s at that moment that you allow yourself to think that this isn’t pity or a drunken mistake, that he’s as hungry for you as you have been for him and that what’s happened tonight has just served to connect a circuit. The fiercely possessive look in his eyes as he watches you, the fury when he thought someone else was claiming you, the need to mark you to make you his, the flush of pure lust on his face and chest… it is just a little frightening, something you suspected was in him but never that it was focused on you. But you’ve always known you could handle his darkness if he let you in. So you thrust your hips a little and wrap your legs loosely around his waist to show him that he can continue. Just as he starts to move, he cups your face and presses his mouth to your ear.

“You deserve so much better.”

“Stop trying to make those decisions for me,” you moan, feeling your insides flutter with his movements.

“I’ve never felt anything like that jealousy.” He’s staring into your eyes as he confesses. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder pressing deeper inside you and gasping at the feeling. “Knowing that everyone could see how sexy and beautiful you are… And I’m an idiot for waiting for that to happen before I did anything, I just…”

He grimaces and slows his pace a little, obviously trying to prolong the sensation.

“You mean it?” You have to ask because you still can’t quite believe that this has been on his mind for all this time when he’s shown no sign of it to you.

“God yes,” he answers through gritted teeth, once again allowing himself to move faster and more urgently.

You can’t completely banish your fears that he’s going to regret this in the morning and just shut you out again but every second with him is pushing them further away. You lace your fingers through his hair, nipping at the shell of his ear as he lets out his own stream of desperate, lusty noises, running your nails gently down his back as he approaches his crescendo.

His head drops to your chest and he cries out as he releases inside you.

“Fuck I love you, fuck I love you, fuck I love you.” He repeats it like a mantra that brings him back down from his high, saying it a final time as he looks into your eyes.

Slowly, he rolls onto his side, gathering you close to him like he thinks an errant breeze might carry you away.

“I have…” he begins quietly, “… there’s a lot that goes on in my head… Bad things, I guess. I thought you’d run away. Or that I’d pull you down with me. I still don’t know that won’t happen.”

He looks so vulnerable that it makes your heart hurt but at the same time you have to stifle a smile.

“Well I’d rather you let me try to deal with it. I’m a lot tougher than you give me credit for being.”

His expression grows a little guilty and he nods. He wraps his arms tighter around you and you do the same until the two of you are lying in your bed, wound around each other.

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 26

This is it: the last chapter of BTOOT 😭 

I wrote a long, sappy post about what this means to me *months* ago when I thought we would finish much sooner than we did (whoops), so I won’t get into all that again. However, I will say that this is a huge accomplishment for me because I have never finished a multi-part fic until now. But I didn’t do it on my own. I absolutely could not have completed this in the time that I did without @hotyeehawman, and BTOOT absolutely would not be the fic that it is without her. So thank you so much, Lauren. We wrote a whole ass 123,419-word, 228-page mf’in fanfiction novel in less than a year 😳

And, at the risk of sounding cheesy AF, we couldn’t have done it without you all, either. The response to this little wrasslin’ fic consistently blows us away. SO THANK YOU. It means more than words can say. So once you finish reading this last chapter, please come scream at me in your tags, in the comments, in my asks, in my DMs. Because I cannot wait to hear your thoughts.

Alright, enough of that 🤧 I’ll let you get to reading 😉

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 26/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC, Matt Jackson x OFC x Cash Wheeler, Adam Page x himself

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: Language; MAJOR angst

Catch up on previous parts here.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @heelchampbucks @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-darbyallin-exe @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kingswitchblade

Callie pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time again. 8:57 a.m. She put it back and glanced anxiously around the hotel lobby. She and Cash had agreed to meet there at nine to head to Orlando, and with each passing minute she worried that it would be Matt who stepped out of the elevator instead.

Their conversation had played on a nonstop loop in her head all night. This all happened way too fast. Yeah, I guess it did. Over and over again. Except, in her head, it didn’t end the way it had last night. Instead of Matt walking off she called out to him to wait. She told him that the reason she’d been avoiding him was because she felt guilty about how much she enjoyed being with him. Her brain told her it was wrong, but her heart told her otherwise, and because she didn’t know how to reconcile the two it was easier to just avoid the issue all together.

And that’s exactly what she was doing now: avoiding the issue by going to Orlando with Cash. And she wasn’t just going for the day—she was staying the night at his place.

It had been Cash’s suggestion that she spend the night. It’ll save me a round trip, he’d said via text. It made sense; they both had to be back in Jacksonville for Dynamite tomorrow, so there was no point in making Cash drive four extra hours tonight. So, Callie had agreed.

But, deep down, she knew she’d mostly agreed because it helped her avoid Matt that much more.

She pulled out her phone again, but rather than check the time she opened the camera and flipped it to face toward her. Her double black eyes had worsened from last night, turning an ugly bluish color, but thankfully some full-coverage concealer had made them barely noticeable. Even so, she pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her face. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was a battered woman.

The elevator dinged, and Callie’s chest constricted as the doors slid open. Mercifully, it was Cash.

“You ready?” he asked as he moved toward her. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

She nodded and jumped up from her seat. “Mhm,” she said as she grabbed her suitcase. She couldn’t leave the hotel fast enough.

* * * * * * * * * *

The drive to Orlando was mostly quiet. Cash had asked her if there was anything in particular she wanted to do or see, but she’d just told him she was up for whatever. She knew absolutely nothing about Orlando outside of the fact that Disney World and Universal Studios were there and the little bit she’d seen when she’d stayed with Britt. But Cash didn’t seem bothered by her apparent lack of enthusiasm; he’d just grinned and said, “I got you.” It made Callie’s stomach flutter.

They dropped off their bags at his place and she met his English bulldog, Pawla, before they set off for their first stop of the day. Cash seemed excited as he steered his truck into a parking lot in front of a large complex. Callie, however, was more than just a little confused when she saw what it was.

“Go-karts?”

She hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed, but Cash just let out a laugh. “What? You don’t like go-karts?”

She didn’t answer, looking skeptically out the window at the building. For whatever reason, it made her think of Alex. Go-karts seemed more her speed. She frowned. I wonder if he took her here, too.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Cash said. “I think you could use the adrenaline boost.”

“I can think of better ways to get an adrenaline boost.”

As soon as she said it, Callie wished she could take it back. It had just slipped out, implication and all. She looked hesitantly at Cash. He was smirking.

“I’m sure you can,” he returned. Callie felt her cheeks burn hot behind her sunglasses.

“Come on,” he repeated as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll let you pick where we go to lunch afterward.”

He got out of the truck, and Callie drew in a deep, calming breath through her nose as she did the same.

Maybe avoiding Matt wasn’t the only reason she’d decided to stay overnight in Orlando.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex still hadn’t gotten over what had happened at the Labor Day party. In a word, she felt awful. She wanted to text Callie and apologize again, but between nearly breaking her nose and all but telling her to stay away from Matt, she doubted she wanted to hear from her. So, in hopes of boosting her mood, she’d decided to sit out by Kenny’s pool and soak up the last vestiges of summer while she still could.

But, so far, it hadn’t worked.

Her phone chirped next to her on the lounger, and she picked it up and unlocked the screen. She had a text from Trent.

Hey loser. You have plans today?

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips as she typed back. Not really. Why?

She hit “send,” but instead of setting the phone back down she opened up Instagram. She clicked on Jay White’s story and let it autoplay through a couple more people before it unexpectedly came to Cash’s story. It was a Boomerang video of an indoor go-kart track. Alex recognized it; he’d taken her there one of the first weekends she’d stayed with him in Orlando.

A banner appeared at the top of her screen with Trent’s reply. Because Sam is in town if you want to come hang out.

That caught her off-guard. Sam, the boys’ friend who she’d first met five years ago. Alex had had no idea she was going to be in Jacksonville. Had one of them told her and it’d slipped her mind? But she didn’t think too much of it as she opened the text and sent her response.

Idk. After yesterday I kind of just feel like being a hermit today.

She went back to Instagram and refreshed the page—and her eyes widened at the first picture that popped up.

Callie, a bright smile on her face as she posed in a helmet at the very same indoor go-kart track from Cash’s story.

“Are you shitting me?”

“There you are.”

Alex nearly dropped her phone on her face at the sound of Kenny’s voice. He gave her an amused look. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” she started. But she thought better of it and huffed, “No.”

Kenny cocked his head in concern as he sat down on the edge of the lounger next to her. “What’s wrong?”

Alex let out a sound that was half sigh, half groan. The last thing she wanted to do was to complain to Kenny about Callie and Cash, of all people. But if she couldn’t talk to him about it, who could she? “I’m just frustrated with the whole Callie situation,” she breathed.

She glanced at him from underneath the bill of her baseball cap. He frowned sympathetically at her. “I know, baby. But you didn’t hit her on purpose. If she doesn’t believe that it’s her problem.”

“It’s not just that,” she interjected. “According to Instagram she’s in Orlando with Cash right now.”

His brow furrowed in confusion when she said that. Alex knew exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t give two shits about Cash,” she assured him. “He can do whatever and whoever he wants. Honestly, I expect bullshit like this from him. But I don’t get where Callie’s head is at. Where the hell does she get off blaming me for ruining her relationship with Adam while she’s off driving fucking go-karts with the guy who stabbed him in the back? It hasn’t even been two weeks since she left him!”

“Because it’s what Callie does,” Kenny blithely returned. “She thinks she’s blameless in everything and doesn’t take accountability for anything. This isn’t the first time she’s shown you that’s exactly the kind of person she is.”

“But we were friends, Kenny! Somehow, we got over all the bullshit and became friends, and then fucking Adam…”

She trailed off, her voice growing thick with emotion, and looked to the ceiling. She didn’t want to get upset. But it was hard not to. She felt betrayed. That was the only word for it.

“Hey.” Kenny put a hand on her bare leg, drawing her eyes back to his. “Do you want my honest advice?”

She nodded.

“Stop wasting your energy on Callie and Adam. They’re not worth it, Alex. You’ve given them so much of your time and effort and what have you gotten in return?”

A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She didn’t need to answer him. They both knew the answer. “I know,” she softly agreed. “You’re probably right.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Of course I am.” He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “I was thinking about ordering sushi for dinner tonight. That always makes you feel better.”

She perked up a bit at that. “Can we get sake, too?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’ll get you sake, too.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

He gave her leg an affectionate squeeze and stood. “Well, I’m gonna go get a workout in. Wanna join me?”

Alex couldn’t help herself. “Is that a euphemism?”

He grinned. “No, despite how much I want to take that bikini off you right now.”

She just playfully rolled her eyes in response.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Endorphins will make you feel better, too.”

Alex emitted a dramatic groan as she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “Not if you try to kill me like you did last time,” she argued.

“But I always take good care of you afterward,” he said. “That was a euphemism, by the way.”

She returned his smirk. “Yeah, I got it.”

* * * * * * * * * * 

To Cash’s credit, the go-karts had been fun—but Callie was more than happy to take the lead on the rest of the day. She’d picked out a restaurant on International Drive for lunch (Cash had groaned and said that was where all the tourists went, to which she’d cheekily replied that she was a tourist), and afterward he’d convinced her to ride the Ferris wheel at ICON Park, where he’d pointed out some of the different areas of the city to her (Callie, who was afraid of heights, had kept a death grip on his arm the entire time). Then, at Callie’s request, they’d driven around some of the neighborhoods so that she could get a better feel for them (“Obviously, I recommend my neighborhood,” Cash had said). Overall, it had turned out to be a good day after all, and Orlando was looking more and more like the place Callie wanted to move.

But, the more time she spent with him, the more she started to wonder how much of that feeling was due to Cash.

“What’re you craving?” he asked as they sat on the couch in his living room.

“You pick,” she returned. Pawla lounged between them, and she reached down to scratch her behind the ears. “I’m honestly still stuffed from lunch.”

“Chinese it is,” he decided, and he pulled out his phone to order. Callie did the same, but to open up Instagram—and she found that Alex was the first person in her stories queue. She stared at the little circle of her profile picture, hesitant. But she was too nosy not to look, so she angled her phone screen away from Cash and clicked.

There were only two pictures in her story. The first showed her in sweat-drenched workout gear lying face-down on a gym room floor with the caption, “@/kennyomegamanx tried to kill me again.” The second was of her smiling in satisfaction in front of a takeout container of sushi. “He made up for it,” the caption read.

“I guess Alex and Kenny aren’t hiding their relationship anymore.”

She froze and glanced at Cash out of the corner of her eye. That was the second time that day she’s put her foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “They’re probably the last two people you want to hear about.”

But Cash shook his head. “I don’t care. They can have each other.”

Callie frowned. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he spoke up again before she could.

“Do you prefer beef and broccoli or chicken?”

She thought for a second. “Beef.”

A few more clicks and he finished putting in the order. “It says it’ll be here in thirty-five minutes,” he said as he stood from the couch. “You want a drink? I have a bottle of The Rock’s tequila, it’s really good.”

Callie’s nose scrunched up. “Do you have vodka?”

“Yeah. You want it on the rocks or mixed?”

“Mixed please.”

He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Callie occupied herself with petting Pawla until he returned with their drinks a few minutes later. “Here you go; vanilla vodka and Coke Zero.”

“Oo, that sounds good,” she said as he handed her the cocktail. She took a sip. He’d made it just right, not too much vodka, not too little.

“So, what’d you think of Orlando?” he asked as he sat back down. “Did I convince you to become my neighbor?”

His choice of words made her stomach flutter again. “I think so. There’s more to do here than in Jacksonville, and a two-hour drive to work is a lot better than a cross-country flight.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I like it. Dax is planning on moving back to Asheville, but I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s grown on me. Plus, I like Disney and Universal Studios too much.”

“Yeah, I definitely want to check those out,” she returned.

“We should plan a weekend,” he smirked. Callie took a sip of her drink to hide her blush.

They fell into silence, and they both turned their attention to the random show Cash had put on the television. But there was something hanging in the air; Callie could feel it. She was about to speak up when Cash beat her to it.

“So, we’ve avoided the topic all day, but I kind of feel like I have to ask now.”

There was no need for him to clarify what he meant. “Matt?” she guessed.

He nodded. She shifted in her seat. “What about him?”

“Well… are you two not together?”

He sounded almost hopeful. She hesitated to respond.

“That was the rumor backstage,” he added.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. But I guess, yeah, at one point it was moving in that direction. But… I actually told him last night that I think we rushed into things.”

“Oh,” Cash said. It was obvious that he expected her to continue, but her confusion over Matt was the last thing Callie wanted to get into right now. So, she deflected.

“There’s something I need to ask you, too.”

Cash arched his eyebrows as he raised his glass to his lips. “That doesn’t sound good,” he joked.

But Callie wasn’t joking. “Why’d you do what you did to Adam?”

He paused to cock his head at her. “What do you mean?”

She shot him a flat look as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean when you stabbed him in the back, Cash.”

Cash made a noise as he swallowed down the tequila. “Damn, not pulling any punches, huh?”

“You didn’t with Adam.”

He looked back at her in surprise. She didn’t waiver. He breathed out again.

“Alright, look,” he started. “I don’t have anything against Adam. I’ve known him a long time. But he and Kenny had what we wanted, and we did what we had to do to get it.”

She rolled her eyes again. That was such a canned response.

“What?”

“You did not have to do what you did,” she returned. “You didn’t have to manipulate him the way you did.”

His eyebrows arched. “Manipulate him? Callie, all we did was point out that Kenny and the Bucks don’t give two shits about him. He did the rest himself.”

“What?”

“I swear.”

“So you didn’t tell him to sabotage Matt and Nick in the gauntlet match?”

“No! He did that because he was upset about you and Matt!”

Callie’s brow puckered in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He told us at the hotel bar that night that he found out right before the gauntlet match that you were staying with Matt in California, so he retaliated by sabotaging their title shot. Dax and I didn’t have anything to do with that, I promise you.”

The room grew silent as his words sunk in, stunning her. That was exactly what Alex had surmised when Matt had confronted her immediately after the gauntlet match. But Callie hadn’t wanted to believe it, and after FTR had turned on Adam she’d assumed that they’d been the ones to put the idea in his head.

But if Cash was telling her that they hadn’t, then it meant she really was to blame.

“Hey,” Cash softly beckoned. She looked back up at him. His eyes were earnest. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Callie stared down into her drink, tapping her fingernails on the glass. She appreciated the sentiment, but she didn’t agree. Not really. “Well, technically I walked out him, so…”

She trailed off and took a long drink. She felt like such a bitch. I shouldn’t be here.

“And?” Cash returned, drawing her out of her thoughts. “I’m sure you had good reason to.”

Callie didn’t answer right away, nearly draining her drink. Once she’d had enough, she looked down at Pawla and scratched her head again. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said.

“Done,” he said, and she sent him a tight, grateful smile. “So what do you wanna do? Watch a movie?”

She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I just have one request.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Anything but Mean Girls.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When Matt arrived at Daily’s Place on Wednesday, he had half a mind to go to Tony and tell him to cancel the mixed tag match. He had no desire to wrestle a match with Callie anymore. To be frank, he didn’t want much of anything to do with her at the moment.

He knew she’d been in Orlando with Cash yesterday. He’d seen her Instagram photo at the go-kart track and hadn’t thought much of it. But not long after, Kenny had texted him.

Hey, did you know Callie is in Orlando with Cash right now?

It had caught him completely off-guard. No? he’d responded. Who told you that?  

He’d been more on-edge than he cared to admit while he’d awaited Kenny’s reply. Alex. I guess they posted photos from the same place on Instagram or something.

A quick search for Cash’s Instagram profile—Matt didn’t follow that asshole—had confirmed the claim to be true. It wasn’t a photo, but a Boomerang video on his story that gave it away. It was unmistakably the same indoor go-kart track from Callie’s picture.

I just thought you should know, Kenny had followed up. Matt hadn’t responded. He’d tried to put it out of his mind ever since, but he couldn’t. He kept going back to what Callie had said to him the last time he’d seen her.

This all happened way too fast.

He didn’t disagree; they had moved fast. But what confused him was that Callie had been the one to set the pace, not him. He’d thought she’d wanted everything that had happened between them.

But the way she was acting now made him feel like nothing more than a regret.

“Matt.”

“Hm.” He looked up from his phone at Brandon. He, Nick, and Kenny all stared expectantly at him from across the EVP room.

“Do you want me to film the mixed tag match for BTE?” Brandon asked. His tone that conveyed he was repeating himself. Matt obviously hadn’t heard him the first time.

“Oh, no. Sorry,” he replied, and he looked back down at his phone. He saw the three of them exchange a wary glance out of his peripheral vision. Thankfully, they just left it alone.

“Alright, I’m starving,” Nick announced as he stood from his seat. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Brandon agreed.

“No,” Kenny wearily returned. “I got that interview with JR.”

There was a pause. And then, “Matt?”

He looked up again, this time at his brother. He shook his head. “No. I’m not hungry.”

Nick let out a breath. “Alright,” he said, and he and Brandon went out the door, leaving Matt and Kenny alone. The silence in the room was deafening. But it didn’t last long.

“Have you talked to Callie at all?” Kenny asked. “About the match,” he quickly clarified.

Matt shook his head again. “No. I haven’t talked to her period. Not since Monday.”

There was another beat of uncomfortable silence. Again, Kenny was the one to break it. “Look, about yesterday. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t,” Matt abruptly cut him off. He knew exactly what he was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. “I’m glad you told me. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He raised his palms in surrender. “Fine,” he said, and Matt hoped that really was the end of it.

But then Kenny added, “But I think you owe Alex an apology.”

“What?” Matt cut his eyes at him in disbelief. “For what?”

“Oh, come on, you know exactly for what. For the whole reason the mixed tag match is happening in the first place.”

That confused him even more. “The mixed tag match is happening because Trent can’t mind his fucking business.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Oh, okay,” he sarcastically returned.

“What?”

“You called Alex a slut, Matt!” Kenny burst. “That’s what led to the mixed tag match! You accused her of putting Hangman up to sabotaging your title shot and you called her a slut for being involved with both me and Cash. But where was Callie yesterday? In Orlando with Cash, even though she’s apparently with you. So yeah, I think you owe Alex an apology.”

Matt sat back, physically stung by Kenny’s words. They hurt because there was more than just a grain of truth in them. But, at the moment, he was too stubborn to hear it. “Oh, so Callie’s the slut now? Is that what you’re saying?”

Kenny expelled an exasperated breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It sure fucking sounds like it is.”

“I’m saying she’s making you look like a fucking idiot.”

They were thrown into silence again, their arguing replaced with quiet, palpable hostility as they sat opposed on either end of the room. Matt’s eyes turned dark. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not from his best friend.

“Fuck you, Kenny,” he spat. He stood and stalked toward the door, and as he gripped the handle he turned back, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue. But in a moment of clarity, he decided it was better left unsaid. The shoe was on the other foot now. So he just went out the door, suddenly glad that he did have a match. He needed to hit something.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Are you guys going out for Jim’s match?”

Alex glanced across the locker room at Trent, looking for him to answer Chuck’s question. He met her gaze before responding.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ll probably stay back here and focus on our match.”

Chuck nodded. “Yeah. I wish it wasn’t mixed tag rules. I’d like to see Alex hand Matt his ass.”

“Oh, she doesn’t even need to touch him to do that,” Trent returned. “Didn’t he train Callie?”

Alex knew he was asking her, but she didn’t look up as she rummaged through her suitcase. “I think so.”

Trent smirked. “So then kicking Callie’s ass will be kicking Matt’s by proxy,” he said. Chuck blinked at him.

“Wow, you actually used that correctly.”

He sucked his teeth. “Fuck off. I know big words.”

“‘Proxy’ is a five-letter word.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Spell it.”

“Are you serious?”

Alex smirked to herself and let them continue to argue while she grabbed the top to her gear and a pair of joggers and went into the bathroom to change. Truth be told, she didn’t want to talk or even think about the match against Callie and Matt. It was a complete one-eighty from a week ago—she’d been aching to kick Matt’s ass then. But now, she just wished the entire situation would go away.

She finished changing and returned to the main area of the locker room. Chuck was still challenging Trent to spell different words. “I’m going to hair and makeup,” she announced over them.

“What gear are you wearing?” Trent asked.

She turned to face him as she pulled on her zip-up hoodie. Her top was a sparkly dark silver-purple with black trim. “This gear. Why?”

“Because we should try to match. I knew I should have brought the gear from Fyter Fest…” he trailed off as he dug through his things and pulled out his dark gray tights with the blue and pink designs. “Do these work?”

Alex gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, those work. I’ll ask Stella to do a blue and pink eye look,” she said, and she went out the door.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get ten steps before she ran into Adam.

He slowed to a stop when he saw her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she returned, and her brow puckered with concern as she looked him over. He had his ubiquitous glass of whiskey in hand, but he at least looked better than he had when she’d seen him at the hotel on Sunday. “Going somewhere?”

He looked confused at that. “No… why?”

She awkwardly fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Well, you just look dressed for TV and I didn’t see you on the card tonight. I wasn’t even sure you were here.”

Adam hadn’t said a single word to her since she’d texted him to ask if he was going to the Labor Day party. But she hadn’t said a single word to him since then, either. Because the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized how right Kenny was. It was exhausting putting so much effort into a friendship where she wasn’t getting the same effort in return.

“Oh,” Adam regretfully said as he looked down at his pale blue button-up. “Yeah, I just had an interview with Schiavone.”

“Oh,” Alex repeated. “About—”

“Where I go from here,” he interjected. “I said I was still open to tagging with Kenny if he was.”

He laughed wryly to himself and took a sip of his drink. Alex frowned and looked away. Kenny was not open to tagging with him again; she knew that for a fact. But judging by the look on Adam’s face, deep down he knew that, too.

“Where are you headed?”

She looked back up at him. “Oh, hair and makeup. For the match tonight.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. And then, sadness and hurt. “Oh, right. You have the mixed tag against Matt and Callie.”

“Yeah.” Alex fidgeted and glanced away again. She couldn’t bear the look on his face. But then she wondered: did he know that Callie had been in Orlando with Cash yesterday? Should she tell him?

No, she quickly decided. It’s not your place or responsibility.

“Well, I should get over there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of hair and makeup.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded as she started walking. “Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she turned and hurried off as quickly as she could.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the years since she’d started wrestling, Callie had never felt as much of an outcast as she did now. As soon as she’d arrived at the arena with Cash, she’d realized she had nowhere to go. The EVP room was out of the question, and she didn’t want to go back to sharing a dressing room with Britt—she was the one who’d blabbed her business all over Daily’s Place to begin with. Cash had offered for her to share with him and Dax, but she’d turned him down; she could only imagine the rumors that would start if people noticed her sharing a locker room with FTR. No, she needed to keep a low-profile, and so she’d found an empty room away from everyone else. Now, she sat in one of the lounges watching the show as she awaited her match, alone.

Orange Cassidy had just beaten Angelico with the Orange Punch. Callie had expected Best Friends and Alex to be at ringside for the match, but they weren’t. She looked away from the TV and down at her phone as Bryce Remsburg raised Orange’s arm in victory, but a commotion a moment later redrew her attention. Santana and Ortiz had attacked Orange from behind. The assault didn’t last long, however, as Chuck and Trent ran out and chased them off like a pair of guard dogs. Callie couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Trent angrily paced the ring, shirtless in his skinny jeans. She sincerely hoped Matt would get a quick pin on him in their match.

Chuck grabbed a mike to speak, but Callie’s phone buzzed in her hands and she looked down at the screen. It was a text from Cash.

Are you free? I need a favor.

Her pulse picked up a bit as she unlocked her phone to respond. Yeah… what’s up? she typed back and hit “send.” She watched as the typing bubble appeared and, soon after, his answer.

Don’t laugh. I can’t decide on a shirt.

Despite his request, Callie couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. But she couldn’t blame him too much; FTR was having an in-ring celebration in honor of their championship victory at All Out that night. He probably wanted to look his best.

Usual room? she asked as she stood to leave.

Usual room, he replied, and she headed off in the direction of FTR’s dressing room.

The door was slightly open when she arrived, and she knocked to announce herself before she let herself in. Cash stood alone in the middle of the room in a pair of dark navy slacks and socks, shirtless. Callie’s mouth went suddenly dry as he looked over at her.

“Okay, I can’t decide between these two.” He motioned to a pair of dress shirts hung up in the cubby behind him—one white with tiny blue dots, the other with a subtle blue and white checkered pattern. She walked over and pulled them both out of the cubby so that she could hold them up next to him. He smirked at her as she studied them. She did her best to ignore it.

“This one,” she decided, handing him the checkered shirt. But she frowned as she returned the white shirt to its place. “Are those the only dress shoes you have?” she asked, nodding at the pair of black square-toed loafers on the floor.

“Yeah…” Cash slowly returned. “Why? Is something wrong with them?”

It took every fiber of Callie’s being not to blurt out with, “Yes, they’re hideous.” Instead, she said, “Just brown would look better with navy, is all.”    

“Oh,” he realized. “I guess I should have asked your advice before we left this morning.”

She smirked. “Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he answered as he pulled on the shirt. Callie watched as he fastened the buttons, and she realized she was staring. She fidgeted and looked awkwardly away, but Cash didn’t seem to notice. “Are you ready for your match?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Physically, yes. Mentally… not at all.”

He snorted. “Make Matt do all the work. He’s the one who dragged you into this.”

Callie anxiously bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong; of the four of them in the mixed tag, she was the only one who hadn’t been present when the match was made. But even so, she couldn’t do that to Matt. “No, I don’t want to do that. And besides, Matt didn’t ask for the match, either—Trent did. All because he didn’t like Matt mouthing off about Alex.”

Cash rolled his eyes as he tucked his shirt into his pants. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think he has a thing for her.”

She scoffed. “You think he does? Please, it’s obvious he does,” she said. And then she muttered, “It seems like everyone has a thing for her.”

“Not me,” Cash abruptly announced. “I’ve moved on.”

Callie looked up at him, but he turned away to grab his suit jacket. She wondered if he had more to say—it felt like he had more to say—but before she could ask the door to the locker room opened and Dax walked in. He halted when he saw her.

“Oh, hey, Callie. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He glanced between her and Cash. They both quickly shook their heads. “No, I just asked her to come help me pick out a shirt,” Cash said.

“Ah,” Dax nodded. Callie didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. It was her cue to go.

“Well, I’ll go so you can get dressed,” she said to Dax as she started to leave.

“Good luck if I don’t see you before your match,” Cash returned, and she gave him a tight smile and went out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex’s hands were clammy as she stood at Gorilla with Trent. The mixed tag match was next. Unfortunately, it was right after FTR’s joke of a tag team championship celebration. She did her best to tune out Dax’s egotistical blathering as she rolled her neck and loosened up. She needed to focus. A match was a match, and even though she wasn’t looking forward to this one, she still wanted to do her best.

“You ready for this?” Trent asked.

She looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Are you?” she meaningfully returned. She still couldn’t believe that he and Chuck had challenged Santana and Ortiz to a parking lot brawl next week. On top of worrying that they’d murder each other, she was concerned that Trent’s focus was no longer on their match.

“Yes,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about me.”

Alex smirked. “Man, have I got bad news for you next week.”

He gave her a crooked smile; but then his eye was drawn to a spot just past her shoulder. She turned to look. Matt and Callie had arrived.

Trent scoffed. “They don’t match at all. Losers.”

Normally, Alex would have laughed. But it was obvious even in the dim lighting of Gorilla that Matt and Callie’s gear wasn’t the only thing off about them. Callie in particular seemed unsure of herself. Her eyes met Alex’s. She turned away without a second glance.

Back in the ring, the “celebration” came to a screeching halt when Jurassic Express dumped a cooler full of beer cans over Cash, Dax, and Tully’s heads. Thankfully, they returned backstage a different way than through the entrance tunnels.

Alex drew in a breath and shook out her arms and legs as the show went to commercial. But it seemed like no time had passed at all when she heard the distinctive beat of the Best Friends theme song sound throughout the arena.

“Let’s do this,” Trent said as he held out his fist to her. She bumped it confidently with her own, and they walked into the tunnel together.

* * * * * * * * * *

A boulder settled in the pit of Callie’s stomach as she watched Alex and Trent disappear down the entrance tunnel. She didn’t know why she’d expected Alex to be just as nervous as her. On the contrary, she’d looked laser-focused; her and Trent both had. It was glaringly obvious that they were ten times more prepared for this match than she and Matt were. The two of them hadn’t even walked to Gorilla together—they’d just happened to get there at the same time.

“I’ll start the match,” Matt said. “I’ll try to keep your ring time to a minimum.”

Callie looked at him in hurt and confusion. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s obvious you don’t want to do this,” he breathed. “So I’ll just make quick work of Trent and get it over with, alright?”

“SUPERKICK PARTAYYYYYY!”

The opening of the Young Bucks theme interrupted before Callie could say anything. Matt didn’t so much as glance at her before he walked into the tunnel, and she had no choice but to follow him out.

The crowd offered a mixture of boos and cheers as they walked out onto the stage, but Callie couldn’t hear them over the music. She stood awkwardly next to Matt and waited for him to do his signature pose, but he never did. He just glared into the ring at Trent, who glared right back.

BOOM!

The cannons on the side of the stage shot fake $100 bills high into the air, making Callie flinch. She looked back into the ring as the paper money floated down around them. Alex rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned to say something to Trent.  

She stood stiffly at the top of the stage until Matt moved, and they made their way down the entrance ramp. Trent started jaw-jacking, but Callie tuned him out as she took her place on the ring apron. Matt, however, took the bait; Aubrey had to push him back as they yelled at each other. Eventually, Trent scoffed and turned back to Alex.

“You wanna start?” Callie heard him ask.  

But Alex didn’t even get the chance to open her mouth before Matt yelled, “No, we’re starting the match!”

Alex and Trent exchanged a look, but she stepped through the ropes and out onto the apron next to the turnbuckle. Matt removed his leather jacket and tossed it to the floor. Aubrey called for the bell, and the match started.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex didn’t know if Matt was ignoring Callie, if Trent just wanted to beat the shit out of Matt, or if it was some combination of both. But whatever the case, the match had been going on for nearly ten minutes now, and neither of them had even tried to tag in her or Callie. It was aggravating, but at least it worked in her team’s favor. The match had effectively become a singles contest, and Trent had far more experience wrestling on his own than Matt did. That, and his cardio was better. If it continued like this, it would only be a matter of time before they won.

Matt tried to whip Trent toward the ropes, but he reversed it and pulled him into a side headlock. He pivoted toward a corner and charged, running up the turnbuckle to hit a float-over DDT. He went for the pin—but Matt kicked out at two. Afterward, both men remained still on the mat, taking what chance they could to catch their breath. Alex eagerly stepped up onto the bottom rope and banged on the turnbuckle. She wanted in.

“Trent! Tag me in!”

She leaned into the ring, reaching as far as she could, and he looked over at her. But just as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, Matt hit him with a clubbing blow to the back. He grabbed him by the hair and jerked him into a chinlock. It wasn’t a move that Matt typically did. Alex knew it meant he was getting tired.

The crowd started clapping in rhythm for Trent, and Alex stomped her boot on the ring apron in time. Trent wrenched at Matt’s fingers, prying them away from his face. In response, Matt pulled him to his feet and swiftly maneuvered to hit a float-over DDT of his own. Alex bit down on her jaw as she watched him hook his leg. Trent got his shoulder up at two.

Alex stepped back up onto the ropes. She was tired of this. “Why don’t you tag in your partner, huh, Matt?” she taunted. “Worried she can’t beat me?”

Matt glared daggers at her as he climbed to his feet. “I don’t want to subject everyone to having to watch you wrestle,” he spat.

But Alex’s wit was just as quick. “Oh really? You look awfully lost without your little brother out here doing all the work.”

That needled him. She knew it would. But what she didn’t expect was his response.

“Please, you wouldn’t even have a contract if you weren’t on your knees for Kenny every night.”

For a second, Alex was stunned into silence. But then a white-hot rage bubbled up inside her. She ducked through the ropes and charged toward him.

“What’d you say to me?”

“You heard me.”

“Why don’t you say it again.”

“Get out of the ring, Alex!” Aubrey ordered.

“Matt!”

At Callie’s warning cry, Matt instinctively whirled around and dodged—and what happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion.

Trent flew toward Alex like a bullet. He crashed into her and knocked the wind from her lungs, sending her violently back into the turnbuckle. She felt a pop in her right shoulder, and then nothing but searing hot pain.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Trent realized what he’d done, he felt sick.

He hadn’t known Alex was in the ring. That DDT had left him dazed, and he’d been oblivious to his surroundings until he’d spotted Matt with his back turned to him. So he went for a spear. But Matt dodged at the last second. Trent had absolutely no chance to stop himself or correct course, and he rammed full speed into Alex.

He watched in stunned horror as she writhed against the turnbuckle. She clenched her right arm, her face screwed up in pain. She was hurt. He’d hurt her.

“Alex—”

Smack!

He was abruptly cut off by a superkick to the jaw. He crumpled to the mat. Matt dragged him by the ankle further into the ring and pinned him. The count sounded distant and faint.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rung. Trent felt Matt throw down his leg as the music started, ringing in his ears. He stared up into the lights, unblinking, while Matt’s arm was raised in victory. He’d hurt her. He’d hurt her and then lost the match.

“Alex,” he said again as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. She was still huddled against the turnbuckle, clutching her arm as Aubrey checked on her. He felt sick all over again.

“Alex.” He crawled over to her and put a hand on her knee. She looked up at him. Unshed tears shined in her eyes. It broke him. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It was an accident—”

“Alex!”

Suddenly, Kenny was in the ring. He practically pushed Trent out of the way as he knelt in front of Alex. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I think it’s dislocated,” she winced.

Trent looked at her right shoulder. It hung visibly lower than her left. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Let’s get you to Doc,” he said as he tried to move toward her again.

But Kenny blocked him. “I got it,” he bit. Trent didn’t have it in him to argue.  

He watched as Kenny helped her to her feet and ushered her to the ropes; he held them open for her so she could gingerly duck through. As she stepped to the other side, Alex looked back. For a brief second their eyes met. But then Kenny put his arm around her, and she turned away and disappeared into the back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie couldn’t stay out there a second longer. She was horrified by what she’d witnessed. The way Matt had taken advantage of Trent’s awful mistake, how he hadn’t hesitated to kick him in the jaw—there’d been a viciousness in his eyes that she’d never seen before. And she didn’t want any part of it.

She stormed off before Aubrey could even raise his arm in victory, marching quickly up the ramp. Kenny nearly bowled her over on his way down to the ring, and she turned to watch as he ran to Alex’s aid. But then she saw Matt coming after her, and she turned back around and hurried through the entrance tunnel.

“Callie!”

She didn’t stop or even glance his way. She just kept walking.

“Callie! What the fuck?”

That got her stop and face him. “Me what the fuck? You what the fuck, Matt? What the fuck was that out there?”

If looks could kill, she was certain she would have been dead on the spot. “Are you serious?” he spat. “I won the match and you just ran off!”

Her eyes darkened. “Well, I didn’t want to be a part of it anyway, right?”

Matt bit down on his jaw. There was nothing he could say to that. She gave him one last glare and turned her back on him again, praying that was the end of it. She just wanted to leave. Alone.

“I want your shit out of my house by the weekend.”

Callie halted. His words were like a knife in the back. They hurt. And suddenly, she wanted him to hurt, too.

She turned around again, her head held high. “That’s fine, because I don’t want to move back to California anymore.”

She held his gaze in defiance. But Matt just laughed, cruel and low. “Let me guess, Orlando with Cash?”

She faltered. He knew about yesterday. But she steeled herself again. “No. I want to move to Orlando for me.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

“That’s the truth!”

“Was all this just a rebound to you?”

If his previous words had been a knife to the back, those were a blow to the gut. Tears sprung to the back of Callie’s eyes. Her voice came out strained. Apologetic. “No. I care about you, Matt. So much that it scares me.”

He laughed again and looked away. “Coulda fooled me.”

She took a step toward him. “Matt—”

“Have fun in Orlando,” he cut her off, and that time it was him who stormed off and left her behind. Alone.

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 1 

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls. 

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing

A/N: Welcome to my new series! If you’re new here, thanks for stopping by, if you’re a returning friend, you know right off the bat this will be a slow burn. That’s just how I roll. There will be lots of flirting, cuteness, snark, and some angst. I recommend looking up a ride through of Expedition Everest if you’ve never been on it. A cast member is what Disney calls their employees. I think that’s all you need to know for now. Tag list is open, please send an ask. Likes, comments, and reblogs are wonderful.

“My feet hurt,” you whined, sticking out your bottom lip for added affect. “Go on without me. Just promise me you’ll remember me always.”

“So dramatic. Go sit down, you big baby.” Jana said, giving you a light shove.

The two of you were just outside of Pandora at Disney’s Animal Kingdom Theme Park waiting for her husband Brooks to use the restroom. It had already been a long day. You rarely visited the parks during the day anymore unless family or out of state friends were in town. After moving to Florida from the Midwest for college, you decided to stay. The heat was something you never truly got used to, but with so many career opportunities in the Orlando area it was hard to pack up after graduation. Twelve years later and you were still here.

Jana and Brooks had a rare weekday off and begged you to join them at the park. Because of the heat and the crowds, you generally avoided the parks. Unfortunately, their idea of a park day started at park open. Today the park happened to open at eight in the morning. You compromised and told them you’d meet the two of them at nine. There was slight protest from Jana but she was happy you were even going.

Brooks had been your friend for the last seven years. Taking a job at the Orlando Sentinel was unexpected, but it turned out to be quite the dream job. On your first day, you managed to get turned around and ended up on the floor that held mostly sales and advertisement employees. Brooks took pity on you which you took for flirting until his girlfriend called while he was walking you to your cubicle. That girlfriend later became his wife and your best friend, so it worked out for the best.

“You know I’m scared of that ride anyway. It goes backwards for Christ sakes. Backwards,” you muttered again shaking your head.

You’ve only ridden Expedition Everest twice and that was more than enough. Disney has great theming, but even a great attraction can’t make you want to ride it. It’s first flaw is how high the coaster goes up. The second flaw is at one point it goes backwards. And the third and final flaw is the huge drop. Yeah, your stomach did not agree with riding it. The wait time was posted for seventy-five minutes and you had no desire to stand in line that long for something you didn’t want to do.

“Y/N, your ridiculous. It’s a roller coaster. At Disney. Children ride it,” Jana said.

Brooks caught up to the two of you, intertwining his fingers with Jana.

“She doesn’t want to go?” he asked.

“That’s a big nope,” you replied popping the p.

The three you walked across the bridge leaving Pandora and into Discovery Island. Tiffin’s was a nice restaurant on Discovery island, but a little on the expensive side, so you hadn’t dined there. But Tiffin’s had a bar called Nomad Lounge with an outdoor covered patio that you very much had visited. Several times to in fact. With its dark wood floors and ceiling, billowy curtains that were always only partially tied back, large wicker couches with colorful pillows and small intimate tables that lined the patio railing looking out into a sea of trees, it was your favorite spot. Over the last year it had become increasingly popular, but you still loved it and visited it for a drink on every outing to the park.

“You two go ahead and stand in line for over an hour. I’m going to sit my butt here,” you said pointing to the lounge. “Let me know when you’re done and I’ll meet you.”

Brooks rolled his eyes at you, pulling Jana along who kept turning back to give you sad eyes.

When they were out of sight, you walked onto the curved patio looking for an open table. You passed an open couch, but you always felt selfish taking one up for just yourself, so you continued on. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be much else open, being that if was after two and most people had the same idea as you in needing a break. Turning yourself around to head back to that couch you passed near the entry, a couple stood up from a small table. You waited patiently for them to grab their backpacks and bags before quickly sitting down on one of two chairs pushed into the table. You picked up the menu quickly passing the selection of beers. deciding it was more of a cocktail afternoon. A Hightower Rita with its mixture of tequila and watermelon sounded perfect.

You set the menu down on the table, grabbing your phone from your jean shorts pocket, to post a few pictures of the day onto Instagram. When the server had not stopped by to clear the table and take your order, you opened your e-mail. A few sales ads, a forwarded e-mail from your mother. People still send those? And a new assignment. The Jonas Brothers at Amway Center next month. You actually liked a few songs off their new album, so you were pretty excited for this concert.

When the server still hadn’t been by, you let out an annoyed huff. Sure, Jana and Brooks were still in line with a long wait to go, but at this rate you weren’t going to be able to finish said drink by the time they were done.

You stood up and looked around from your spot, not wanting to stray too far from the table and lose it to the vultures circling the patio for a spot of their own. Not seeing a server in sight, you huffed out loud again before plopping yourself back in the chair. At least it was padded so it didn’t hurt with how fast you dropped.

You heard a slight chuckle from the sectional couch that sat against the restaurant’s outer wall in front of you. Choosing to ignore it because the lounge was packed, it was really none of your business what was happening at other tables.

“You’re at Disney, smile,” you heard a man’s voice say.

This time you did look up and sure enough, a man sitting across from you was looking directly at you. He was sitting with two other guys who were in a loud conversation and completely ignoring what was apparently happening.

“I’m sorry?” you asked. You couldn’t help the bitch face you were apparently sporting.

He laughed again. “No, I’m sorry. I just can’t help noticing the huffing and puffing that’s going on,” he said.

You took a breath and tried to relax. “It’s fine. I just hate when people say smile, as if life stops just because you’re in a theme park. I just really need a drink and for whatever reason, the server is on break or quit or whatever.”

He laughed again before standing up. “What do you want?”

“Huh?” you asked a little puzzled as to what this stranger was doing.

“I asked what you would like to drink. I’ll go grab it for you.”

“No. No, no. You don’t have to do that. I’m sure he or she will come back at some point this month,” you said, slouching in your seat.

“Just tell me. I’m going to get one anyway.” He crossed his arms and tapped a foot.

It was your turn to laugh. “A Hightower Rita. And thank you,” you said offering him a small smile.

This was quite the surprise. Generally, strangers weren’t nice for no reason.

A few minutes later he was back, placing the drink in front of you. Reaching into your packet to grab out a ten dollar bill, you heard him clear his throat. You looked up to see he took the seat next to you. His very own Hightower Rita in front of him.

“My treat,” he said, giving you a wink.

“Thank you, really,” you replied. You offered him your hand. “Y/N, by the way.”

“Scott,” he offered, shaking your hand as well. “So, do you normally come to Animal Kingdom in a grumpy mood?”

What a smartass.

“I haven’t been grumpy all day, I’m just tired. And thirsty,” you replied.

You lifted the glass and held it out to Scott. The two of you clinking your glasses together before taking a generous sip.

“I’m not on vacation, I live here. My friends dragged me out of bed to come with them, so it’s been a long day.”

“So, a local huh?”

“Yeah, by way of Minnesota. Came for college and never left.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “And where are these friends of yours?” he asked.

“In line for Expedition Everest.”

“You don’t like roller coasters?”

“I do. Just not that one. I’ve ridden the others several times. Big Thunder Mountain is one of my favorites. I just can’t handle that one.”

“Scott! What are you doing? Leave the poor woman alone,” one of his friends from the table shouted.

“I’m making new friends. Mind ya business,” he replied.

You chuckled at him shaking your head.

“What do you do here, Y/N?” he asked.

“Here in the park?”

“Really?” he deadpans. “What do you do for a living?”

“My apologizes,” you laughed. “I’m a writer. A little bit of everything, but mainly I review entertainment in the greater Orlando area. Theme parks for instance.” You waved your hand around. “Like a new ride opening or a hotel or restaurant. Also concerts and events that come to town. I pretty much can make up my own schedule that way. Every once in awhile I’ll write a piece for me, like a think piece that I’ll send out and if I’m lucky, various magazines and newspapers pick it up. That’s what I prefer to do, but it doesn’t pay the bills as well.”

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun. My family and I love coming to the parks, so it would be cool to be invited to grand openings,” he said.

You nodded your head in agreement.  “What about you?”

“I’m an actor. Nothing exciting,” he says shrugging his shoulders which enlists a laugh from you.

“Obviously,” you tease. “Are they your family?” you ask pointing to the two guys sitting on the sectional. Both have ballcaps on backwards that you almost asked if the bros were his family.

“Yeah, that’s some of them. It’s a big group, they’re around somewhere. I got stuck with the weak links,” he jokes. A small smile tugging on his lips. “I’m having way more fun talking to you.”

Shaking your head at his comments, you take a peek at your phone to check the time. It had only been about a half an hour, so you had plenty of time to relax.

“Let’s do a shot!” he exclaims out of nowhere.

“What?” you ask. But he’s already out of his seat, heading back inside before you even get the word out.

Scott’s relatives give you a look and all you can do is quirk your mouth and shrug your shoulders.

A minute later he’s back sans shots. “They’ll bring them out,” he mutters as he sits back down.

The allusive server appears a few minutes later with a tray of two shot glasses, limes slices, and a salt shaker. She sets the contents on the small table and asks if you need anything else. You ask for a water and she promises she’ll be right back.

Scott picks up his glass and holds it up. “To new friends.”

“To new friends,” you repeat before downing the tequila in one go.

You quickly grab a lime slice and suck on it before grabbing another. You hadn’t done a shot in so long; you feel way out of practice.

The server does return with a couple of glasses of water shortly after you’ve taken the shot. When she asks if we need anything else, Scott starts to order another round of shots but you cut him off.

“One and done, buddy.”

He laughs and tells your server the two of you are set. As odd as this day has been, meeting this new “friend” has been a welcome change.

“Scott! Let’s go do something.” One of the bros calls out. “I already texted Sarah, she’s on her way.”

He waves him off and turns back to you. “Let’s go ride Expedition Everest.”

You look at him like he’s crazy. “No way. I already told you, I don’t ride that coaster.”

“You’ve got liquid courage now and you’ll be riding with me. I promise you’ll have fun.”

Shaking your head, you look back at your phone. “My friends are probably still not on it. The wait time is posted at seventy-five minutes.”

“We got an in,” he says so casually that you have no idea what he’s talking about.

Out of no where, a plaid wearing Disney cast member appears asking the other two guys where’d they like to go.  

“Expedition Everest. Please.” Scott interrupts.

“That works,” the bearded bro says, getting up and flipping his cap around.

“And we’ve got one more joining us, Sarah,” Scott said.

Bearded bro raises his eyebrows and Scott just smiles.

Before you know what the hell you are doing, your walking with Scott, Sarah, and the two bros. Weaving in and out of crowds as she leads. You make it to Expedition Everest and enter through the exit because apparently Sarah can do that. The four of you are ushered into the last two rows to wait for the next train to arrive. Just as it pulls up, Scott moves behind you, getting out of the waiting row.

“I can’t ride in the very back. It makes me sick. Chris, switch with me.”

Chris groans, but comes to stand right behind you.

You’re on the verge of a panic attack as you look over to Scott in the next row.

“Y-you were supposed to be my ride bu-buddy,” you barely manage to get out.

You didn’t want to go on this damn ride anyway and now you weren’t even sitting with your almost friend. Now you’re stuck with a stranger who hadn’t even spoke to you yet.

“You’ll be fine. This is my brother, he’s a good ride buddy. I’ll be right in front of you anyway,” Scott says. He reaches over the barrier to squeeze your hand but it does little to comfort.

The train car pulls up and you’re climbing inside your seat pulling the lap bar up and pushing it into place. You pull on it at least three times to make sure it’s in place.

You look over to Scott’s brother who you know can tell you’re freaking out. He offers you his hand and you shake it.

“Chris,” he says.

“Y/N,” you reply.

He smiles and it suddenly dawns on you who you’re sitting with. Why Sarah escorted your group through the park. Why you were able to enter through the exit and get on the ride almost immediately. Chris is Chris Evans. Actor. Movie star. Whatever you want to call him. You’re pretty sure you follow him on Twitter.

Jesus.

In your line of work, you’ve met plenty of celebrities before. Some at various Disney grand openings, others have been musicians for concerts and albums you have reviewed. But this is different. You take a breath and try to go back to freaking out about the ride rather than about who you are sitting next to.

The coaster takes off, winding around a grass and tree lined path. All too soon you are ascending up “the mountain.” You keep your gaze straight ahead at the back of Scott’s head rest. Every few seconds he looks back and gives you a smile. You’re too frozen to return it, but that doesn’t deter his. It’s honestly a smooth ride and it doesn’t take long to get to the top where the “broken tracks” are. You hear the train switching tracks right before your hurtled backwards down the track into darkness. You can’t help but scream the whole way while you hear Chris laughing next to you. The train comes to a stop again, this time in the dark and you see the shadow of the Yeti against the interior wall. The train starts to move forward and you see the outside light in the distance. You death grip the lap bar and try to reach for the side of your seat with your other hand, but instead you grab Chris’ hand. He gives yours a squeeze back and doesn’t let go.

“I’ve got you,” he says just as you hit the big drop.

Your eyes are plastered closed and all you can do is scream. You don’t dare open them until you start to feel the coaster slow down. You let go of Chris’ hand and hesitantly look over at him. He’s smiling at you with a big cheesy grin.

“I’m sorry about the whole grabbing your hand thing.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire and you’re sure your hair is a mess.

“S’no problem. Really,” he replies.

The two of you climb out of your row and find Sarah waiting for you. She leads the four of you out of the ride, stopping off to the side to see where they would like to go next.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Scott asks.

“Dude, I’m never going on it again. No chance.”

He laughs and throws his arm around you. “Just drink more next time.”

“Not even then.” You shake your head. “Listen, I should probably find my friends. I want to say thanks, but I don’t feel like I should.”

He starts to laugh and it’s pretty contagious that you can’t help but join in.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” Scott said.

“You too.” You give a wave to the three of them. “Enjoy the rest of your vacation,” you call back as you start to walk away.

 You were in the middle of writing an article about for the Sentinel when your phone rang. Generally your phone only rang during business hours and even that was rare. E-mails and text messages were pretty much standard in your day. Seeing that it was Jana that was calling was even stranger. She probably hadn’t actually called you in five years. You mind instantly goes negative thinking something must be wrong. Maybe Brooks was deathly ill or they were in a car wreck.

“Jana?” you answer, trying to keep your voice as even as possible.

“You bitch!”

What the fuck?

“Excuse you,” you reply.

“You fucking met Chris Evans and on top of that, you rode Everest!” Jana shouts.

“Oh yeah, that. Um, how’d you find out about that?”

“It’s on Twitter. I just tagged you in it.”

She did what now?

“Tagged me in what exactly?”

“The ride photo. It’s of you and Chris holding hands on the ride. What’s that all about and why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed. “It’s a long story. Can I tell you tomorrow over coffee?”

“You better. I’m still mad at you. I thought I was your best friend,” she muttered.

“And you are. I promise I’ll explain tomorrow,” you said.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 It had been three days since your trip to the park where you met the Evans brothers. You were surprised that photo even made it on the internet. You were also surprised Jana even saw it.

You opened your Twitter app and searched Chris Evans. Sure enough, one of the top trending stories was that ride photo. It was a mix of “how is she related?” to “is that his new girlfriend?” You didn’t dare click into any of the tweets because you knew they would be full of negative comments about you. It didn’t help that your face was super scrunched up with your eyes closed. Leave it to your best friend to recognize you.

Within a matter of minutes, your notifications started to go off like crazy. You had gained at least one hundred new followers, but one stuck out the most. Scott Evans. You added him back, remembering how nice he was and the drinks he bought you. You closed the app, not wanting to deal with the notifications any longer. Besides, that article wasn’t going to finish itself.

Right before climbing into bed, you checked your Twitter account and saw that you had another 100 followers and one new direct message. How people quickly figured out it was you in the ride photo, just by Jana tagging you in one post made no sense. You updated your security preferences so that people would have to request to follow you instead being able to do so automatically.

Clicking open the message, you were surprised to see it was from Scott Evans. Sure, he added you, but he was messaging you now?

Scott: “Hey grumpy Disney girl. How’s my drinking buddy?”

Why did it feel like life was about to get a whole lot more interesting? Or is complicated a better word?

Chapter 2

Tag list: @tanelle83​ @pinknerdpanda​ @allaboutthebooz​ @estillion14​ @panicfob​ @patzammit​ @heartislubbingdubbing​ @collinsstanharbour​ @twittytelly​ @thefandomzoneisdangerous​ @linki-locks11​ @mywinterwolf​ @ab-baybay​ @rda1989​ @impalaimages​ @mustangshelby04​ @bellaireland1981​ @carolina-thiell​ @sullyosully @straightforwardly​ @torntaltos​ @denise1605​ @mcuclintasha​ @southerngracela​ @iam-cj @humandasaster​

[krashlynandthekids]

Inside the Miami Wedding of Soccer Stars Ali Krieger and Ashlyn Harris

By Alexandra Macon : Vogue

Orlando Pride and U.S. Women’s National Team goalkeeper Ashlyn Harris and defender Ali Krieger are one of sport’s most beloved couples. They first met in 2010 at USWNT training camp, where they became fast friends. “I just found her to be so captivating and always wanted to be around her,” Ali says. “She’s someone who seemed so confident and comfortable with herself, and I was so attracted to that.” The two began a romantic relationship, which they kept secret for a long time out of fear of losing endorsement deals, despite the fact that hardcore soccer fans suspected they were a couple long before they ultimately decided to go public. After almost 10 years of dating, they tied the knot over the holidays in a wedding that was a non-stop, weekend-long party and served as a reunion for many of the USWNT team members. It also capped off a World Cup winning season in which these athletes made front-page headlines for their powerful stances off the field as well as their talent on it.

Ashlyn and Ali’s official move toward marriage started when Ashlyn asked Ali to marry her in Clearwater, Florida. They were enjoying a weekend away after a long season. Just before dinner, “we headed down to the beach to watch the sunset and take in the beautiful scenery,” Ali remembers. “We had a glass of champagne and then wanted to take photos to capture the moment. I proceeded to take a selfie and Ashlyn’s arm was in the back of the photo. I asked her to put it down and stop being silly, only to realize she had actually been holding the engagement ring the entire time I had been snapping photos. She pulled it around in front of me, and then asked the big question! I was in shock but so happy and excited at the same time. It was an incredible sunset, and just a perfect moment.”

Wedding planning kicked off soon after. From the start, the goal was to create a classic, clean environment. “Vizcaya Museum and Gardens [in Miami] is this kind of Mediterranean Castle-like vibe right on the water,” Ali says. “It has this European feel that we were going for, so right when we walked into the venue for the first time, we were like, ‘Oh my God! It’s breathtaking. This is it!’”

The couple worked with Sara Lowell from Sara Renee Events to bring their vision to life. “She’s so badass and beautiful and just absolutely crushed it for us,” Ali says. “We’re so grateful for her and her incredible team of fantastic people working to make our dreams a reality.”

“Ali and I really wanted to align ourselves with people and brands that spoke to our soul and were really about nonconforming and understood the same vision we were going for,” Ashlyn adds. “I just wanted to feel like we could fully express ourselves, our sexuality, and our community.”

To that end, Ashlyn wore Thom Browne, the designer she turns to for all of her red carpet events, and a TAG Heuer Monaco watch. Thom Browne dresses the Barcelona soccer team, which is how Ashlyn first became acquainted with the brand. “Honestly, I love that it’s all very gender neutral, very fluid, there are women in dresses and men in dress, and men and women in skirts. I can really feel how he expresses himself through clothes. It’s just so nonconforming and so far out. I’ve been wearing his stuff ever since.” She and the Thom Browne team created a custom tuxedo with a beaded argyle pattern for the wedding day.

Like a lot of brides on the hunt for the right dress, Ali took a weekend trip to New York City with her best friend and maid of honor, Elizabeth Mumley, to search for her wedding gown. They found a Pronovias fit and flare dress with long sleeves and a V in the back that was exactly what she wanted. “I tried it on, and I knew it was the one!” she says of the “Helio” gown. “I fell in love and knew I would get married in this dress. It’s simple but sophisticated and elegant at the same time. I have personally always loved Pronovias. It’s a brand with which I think I share a lot of values as they believe in inclusivity and diversity.”

On Saturday, December 28, just three days after Christmas, the couple married in the round so that friends and family could see the ceremony and feel part of it. “We wanted simple white flowers and a rose-petal-strewn aisle,” Ali says. “We also wanted to walk ourselves down the aisle as strong, confident, independent women. We felt like it was right.” Ashlyn’s best friend, USWNT team captain and the World Cup’s MVP, Megan Rapinoe, served as maid of honor; Ali’s brother, Kyle Krieger, was best man; and Orlando Pride player Sydney Leroux was the officiant.

For the reception afterward, guests found their seats at tables named after LGBTQ icons including Marsha P. Johnson—a pioneering activist known for her role in the Stonewall uprising—and Anderson Cooper. Dena Lowell Blauschild and The Cook and the Cork catered a colorful menu with an incredible attention to detail. And just before the party really got started, Ali changed into the Condesa dress, also by Pronovias. “I wanted to make it into a mini dress but keep the train, so I customized the hem to give it a high-low effect,” she says. “It was very nice to be able to dance without worrying!”

Meanwhile, Ashlyn seemed to strip off components of her wedding ensemble as the night went on—her pants were switched out for shorts and her tuxedo jacket was traded in for a sleeveless shirt and vest, also by Thom Browne, which allowed her to dance more freely. The newlyweds cut their rainbow cake and did their first dance to a live, acoustic version of Kina Grannis’s “Stand by Me.” Toasts were given over the course of the evening, with Ali’s brother Kyle voicing the sentiments so many there (and those taking in the festivities from afar via Instagram) were feeling: “Since you went public with your relationship, it has been a gift to watch you grow together. It’s amazing because you guys are like a beacon of light for all young queer LGBTQ women and men who just need someone to look up to, like we get happy endings too. In the media and the movies, so often...you know, queer stories have a devastating ending, but not here. In real life, we get to see you guys live the dream.”

[itsmedianuh]

Week #6 Blog. Due 09/30

1. What role does white supremacy play through social media and the internet and how does that carry over from virtual platforms onto reality? 

In the reading, “White Supremacy in the Digital Era”, by Daniels, it is stated “White supremacy online sometimes leads to violence, harassment, intimidation, and racial terror, transcending the virtual world to damage real, live human beings” and “a majority of all websites on the Internet originate in the United States. Not surprisingly, then,  according to the Council of Europe the majority of hate websites are U.S. based, with 2,500 out of 4,00 racist sites originating in the United States”. The online world allows for anyone to remain anonymous, including hate groups. This allows for hate groups to easily target groups of individuals and most of this hate and aggression online is carried over from real emotions and beliefs. As we see in some of the examples online, some of this hate can be seen in violent crimes carried out in-person that are often expressed online without a filter-- we could see this with a lot of mass shootings such as the Orlando nightclub shooting. What is said online is often a megaphone for what is felt in reality as people are often comforted by the idea of anonymity.

2. In what aspects is racism perpetuated through video games and its development in characters and their story lines? 

When discussion the creation of a character from the game of Shadow Warrior, it is discussed by Ow, that “t..he malleability of Asian ethnicity surrounding the main character in Shadow Warrior allows the video gamer added comfort within a digital body...the digital body with which one can interface and become is that of Lo Wang, a racist and misogynist Yellowfaced Cyborg Terminator, on his solitary quest to rape, pillage, and claim the Asian continent, leaving nothing but carnage. Or, as the Yellowfaced Cyborg Terminator prefers to read himself, as a ‘wacky blend of all things Asian’”. Although the creator/designer of the game claimed this character to be the way he is to allow ‘flexibility’ it holds a lack of respect for the culture and communities being portrayed-- making it seem like they are interchangeable. By not creating fine lines among communities, races, cultures, traditions, in video games, it creates a blur and ‘okay’ for the audience to interchangeably accept these virtual traits and realities as truth and applicable in the real world, when it is actually far from that. It is important to recognize and be able to see, learn, and respect the differences that exist between different communities and races whether it's online, in games or in real life.

3. In what ways does cyberspace affect non-white users? 

As discussed by Daniels in “White Supremacy in the Digital Era”, “the fact that this communication can be encrypted and anonymous is appealing for a portion of white supremacists although certainly not all...more sinister than possible recruitment is the internet’s capacity to globally link white supremacists, regardless of national boundaries, thus affirming translocal white identity”. It is easy for anyone to get online and type away hateful posts, comments, sites, and tags that are driven with hate targeting a specific group of people-- connecting these people like white supremacists from all different areas, enhancing this hate on display in higher and louder volumes. I think this could easily create a sense of fear in minorities to avoid specific areas in real life if these groups of people plan to threaten and harass others as a ‘gathering’ or ‘event’ to them. I think this could also create a sense of us vs them mentality online and further isolate groups and create generalizations of races or communities for the actions of a few.

4. Why is race often difficult to discuss and why is it often interpreted as being political? 

Discussing racism and race, especially in today’s time is often spoken about in whispers or silenced because it is deemed ‘political’ or ‘sensitive’-- it is a conversation that is often hushed away or deemed as ‘not appropriate’. However, in reality, race and racism should not be perceived as political conversations that should be hushed away. That right there is privilege that we as a society are failing to recognize because for some, the color of their skin is an automatic target to the weapon of violence, injustice, oppression and abuse. It isn’t a choice to just silence the conversation-- it is a matter of life or death and the more that we push to filter out these conversations, the more that racism is allowed to exist. In the reading, “Race in Cyberspace” by Kolko, Nakamura, and Rodman, it is mentioned that in Cyberspace there is “No in-between. No halfway. No shades of gray. All too often, when it comes to virtual culture, the subject of race seems to be one of those binary switches: either it's completely "off" (i.e., race is an invisible concept because it's simultaneously unmarked and undiscussed), or it's completely "on" (i.e., it's a controversial flashpoint for angry debate and overheated rhetoric)”. This could be seen almost on any platform of media such as twitter, instagram, or facebook. There is either silence or angry debates, nothing in between. I think race and racism is so difficult for people to discuss because first, we are filtering the conversations that need to be taking place. Second, we need to create conversations where we listen to hear people out, not just listen in order to respond. It is a conversation that is long overdue but it's a matter of stepping out of that bubble and creating that conversation in order to help one another and truly obtain justice for all.

 Daniels, J. (2009). White Supremacy in the Digital Era. Cyber Racism: White Supremacy Online and the New Attack on Civil Rights (pp. 3-16). Rowman & Littlefield.

Kolko, B. E., Nakamura, L., & Rodman, G. B. (2000). Race in Cyberspace: An Introduction. Race in Cyberspace (pp. 1-13). Routledge.

Ow, J. A. (2000). The Revenge of the Yellowfaced Cyborg Terminator: The Rape of Digital Geishas and the Colonization of Cyber-Coolies in 3D Realms’ Shadow Warrior. Race in Cyberspace (pp. 51-68). Routledge.

[scottspack]

Over a week ago @progmetallesbian created the “Top Ten Niche Interests” tag game and tagged me in it and ive been meaning to do it ever since!!! My lovely wife @got2ghost tagged me in it again today so it’s finally happening:

TOP TEN NICHE INTERESTS

As a preface, ive seen a lot of these from other people and you all have wonderful, very niche interests (ex: amy & chi) and it made me feel like a lame normie when i started thinking about my interests bc apparently im not into anything THAT niche, so these are the things that to me are personally niche and to everyone else are probably just normal things

1. TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR FC: there’s a long unimportant story to how my dad and i became spurs fans but the fact of the matter is that we’ve been following spurs soccer for three years now and it’s an interest i literally ONLY get to talk about with my dad because i have about two (2) friends who are interested in soccer and zero (0) of them watch the EPL. it’s hilarious to me that what is probably my personally most niche interest is the one that is shared by the vast majority of the world. such is the life of being a soccer fan in america :(

2. THE PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN TRILOGY: this is an old niche and another one that isnt that niche at all but one i feel compelled to include because when i tell you that i was obsessed with this trilogy in elementary school, obsessed is not nearly a strong enough word. i watched all three movies so often that i broke about 2 sets of dvds per movie. i know every possible piece of trivia about these movies. i had every piece of merch from claire’s and hot topic that it was possible to own. my friend and i read about 500 different books on pirates. we called orlando bloom “orly”. i could go on. potc was probably the only thing ive ever been legitimately “hyper-fixated” on and i will defend all three of those movies until i die!!!! if you’ve ever said “i liked the second two but i just couldnt follow the plot” please let me know and i will be happy to explain it to you in excruciating detail!

3. SOLO THRU-HIKE BLOG POSTS: this one i feel can actually count as niche! i fucking love reading blog posts from professional hikers who do crazy long solo thru-hikes. the lewis and clark trail, the appalachian trail, and the te araroa trail in new zealand are some of my favorite to read posts about, but ill read about any solo thru-hikes because i think its fucking bonkers and interesting and complex and inspiring and i hope to never ever do one in my entire life!

4. R/PARANORMAL: i have no reddit experience, i dont have an account, and i never want to actively engage in the reddit community. BUT. i fucking love ghosts and the paranormal so r/paranormal is a treasure trove for fun ghost stories and i read it pretty regularly! a lot of them are silly as youd expect but every now and then there are some really good ones that scare the shit out of me

5. HISTORICAL DRESS YOUTUBERS: it started with bernadette banner and once i had watched pretty much every single video she ever made, i started watching her friend’s channels, and then their friend’s channels. i have no interest in ever dressing historically, i dont really care about fashion, and i will never make my own clothes, but goddamn it if it isnt extremely fun and interesting to watch how passionate these ladies are about their specific niche time period of historical clothing! the talent! the history! its amazing! 

6. INSTAGRAM PINUP MODELS: i honestly cant remember how i stumbled into this world but there is an entire community of classic “pinup” models on instagram who have the most beautiful and creative looks ive ever seen and i now follow like 15 of them and am obsessed with watching them do their hair and makeup 

7. THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO (2002): this is the greatest film adaption of a book, the greatest period piece, and the greatest piece of cinema ever created by human kind. im not interested in debating, i just know that im right.

8. ENDLESS OCEAN: endless ocean was a game i owned on the wii as a preteen that i played for like a year and has been living in my head rent free ever since. you play as a scuba diver in the great barrier reef and all you do is go diving and catalog fish for your conservation team. thats it. that’s the entire game. and playing it was the happiest ive ever been in my life!

9. BANDS FC: there’s a guy on twitter who combines bands and soccer clubs to create new logos. ive been following him forever and its one of my favorite things on the internet!!! he puts a ton of time and research into his designs and they’re all so good. fun fact, he’s also a gay ally and once went to battle against british footie homophobes! a true king!

10. CHRISTIAN MYTHOLOGY: idk if it counts as niche if i blog about it on the regular but i have a deep deep love for the aesthetics, stories, and legacies of christianity. i grew up non-denominational christian but have always been (prepare for cringe) a spiritual person, so i have a huge appreciation for all religions! but obviously christianity is fairly ubiquitous in america and the only religion i have any claim to, so it’s a big interest of mine to explore christian mythology and the ways it’s shaped human history

im going to tag @wolfbuddy @eremji @curlytemple and @significationary if yall are interested!

[lady-olive-oil]

Work Out: Chapter 2

Writings || Florian Index || MTC ||

What up, what up! It’s ya girl Liv here with another chapter of Work Out. In this chapter we’ll go deep into Geneva’s past and her favorite past time. Let me know if ya wanna join the Lil Nasties Squad. I also added 2 new characters to the roster, one is Josephine Montoya-Wade (in MTC) and the other one, well you’ll see soon. Thanks for reading! Stay tuned from scenes for our next episode. Skating visuals linked in bold.

WC: 3.4K [I’m starting to think each chapter will be this long]

Warnings: suggestive themes, dirty flashback if ya squint

Tag Team, Lil Nasties: @maddiestundentwritergaines || @sparklemichele || @designerwriterchic || @honeychicana || @chaneajoyyy || @jojolu || @dc41896 || @titty-teetee || @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove || @ljstraightnochaser || @mimigemrose || @crushed-pink-petals || @fumbling-fanfics || @madamslayyy

The sounds of 70’s to 00’s music rumbled through the rink, as skaters young and old all came together for one night in solidarity. For those who can skate that is. Others like myself however, have been in the game for years.

“Come along and ride on the fantastic voyage.” I couldn’t help but sing along to the sounds of my childhood. Seeing friends of old and new in the rink made me feel at home again. Not like good old nostalgia to make you feel at peace.

“Is that Jimmy and Trinity? The franchise let them have a break before the big match? That’s new.” Destiny got my attention by noticing two old friends of mine from the past.

I was a trainer for WWE in Orlando, years ago. I have met the past; present and the future of the company come in and out of those doors. It was a tremendous job to have right out of college, that I will forever cherish. I’ve grown close to most of everyone from all rosters. I left due to some personal reasons.

“Yeah it is. Let’s go say hi.” Maneuvering through the busy crowd I tapped the glow queen herself, and was met with an excited squeal. Thus rewarded with a loving hug with just enough force.

“Gege! It’s am so glad to see you. How’ve you been girl?” Upon giving Destiny and Cynthia their hugs as well, Jimmy and Jey both hugged us all in a group hug.

“I’ve been well, about to be blessed with a divorce soon.” Taking a swig of my Angry Orchard Rośe, I heard Trinity chuckle.

“You finally went through with it. Proud of you little sis.” Jimmy commended me, with Jey nodding in agreement.

“Thanks Uce, It’s been a long time coming too. Trust and believe me, Dede and Cyn are throwing me a divorce party. What better city to do it in, than Atlanta?” You better believe I was looking forward to that party. Nothing was going to keep me away from it.

“You know I’ll be there. Even if I have to drag Jimmy with me.” Trinity nugged her husband, who was in a deep conversation with his twin over which food is better: bacon double cheeseburger vs mozzarella sticks.

“Huh? Uh yeah Atlanta seems cool.”

“That’s funny because last time I remember, you weren’t going for my good sis to move to the ATL.” I arched a brow in mock curiosity, causing Jimmy to blush a tad.

“At first I was but then I realize she needs a lot of family around no matter what. Plus Georgia and Florida ain’t far, so we came to an agreement.” Placing a kiss on how wife’s head, made all of us smile in pure joy.

“Y’all are sickeningly cute. Let’s go skate, I gotta get my groove on.” Lacing up my white skates, the ones with the hot pink wheels, and neon green laces on them, I saw a pair of Jordan’s come into view.

“Well well well, look who showed up.” Leaning against the table, giving a glance over

“Couldn’t stand my cousin up now could I?” Michael  showed his pearly white teeth, before giving me a hug. Looking up behind him I see Florian in all his glory.

His tight black v-neck shirt; with matching jeans and red polo sneakers just made him irresistible. His hair and beard were clean cut, and what set it off was his gold link chain around his neck. If I’m being completely honest here y’all, at some point I plan on yanking on that gotdamn chain and-

“Hello gorgeous.” His deep voice broke my inner thoughts and just melted my insides. Making my body feel all warm and giddy. This man does things to me already.

“Well hello there handsome. I see my cousin let you come out and roll with the big dogs huh?” Smirking a bit as I skated around him on the rubber glow in the dark floor.

“Actually he didn’t want to come, I dragged him. He wanted to stay in all day and watch Netflix.” The way he laughed was even a magical tone. Like you could be hugged by a velvet blanket, by a cozy fire in the middle of winter.

“Oh? Damn Baraki, you don’t wanna spend time with ya cousin? I’m hurt.”

“I’m here aren’t I? Besides, had to break out my skates from retirement and help Florian buy his from Amazon. Turns out, the dude here owns a pair, without my knowing” He shrugged and stuck his tongue out at me when I flipped him off. Feeling glad that the rink had given us the party section to have us somewhat away from fans. Yet a few had asked for pictures, and I didn’t mind taking them for them.

“Yeah yeah. Anyway, Florian do you know how to skate?” I asked gently.

“Little bit. Haven’t had the time to in a while, just been training more often.” His reply was honest and sincere. Man why isn’t her dating anybody already?

“Oh really? Well I wouldn’t mind teaching you a bit.” The slight bite on my bottom lip, caused Florian to smirk at me before taking a sip of his Heineken.

“I’m sure you could.” He mumbled just enough for me to hear, letting me hold his beer so her could tie his skates up.

His arms bulged with every movement, a vein popped a few times and it just made my body hum in desire and need. That was until I felt my phone vibrated, I gave him back his beer, and watched as he skated with Michael over to the Dj booth. Checking my phone for a few updates from friends and fans of my work, I received a message from Cassie that she had arrived.

Cassie was also another childhood friend of  mine who had no issue with telling you how it is. Knowing that she moved back to the city as well, made it all better for me to have friends. My phone buzzed again, letting me know a message came again. This time I was worried. Re-reading the message, I felt my face scrunch in confusion.

Cassie: Uh Geneva don’t be alarmed but a certain blonde walked in.

What was she talking about? Responding as fast as I could, I looked around the section and saw nothing.

Me: who?

Looking at Trinity, who nodded her head in the front direction of the rink.

Trinity: she devil

Me: oh fuck

The she devil in question, was another former trainee of mine at the facility back in 2016, when I had started. She is one of the major causes of my divorce; Mandy Rose. I don’t see what the WWE universe sees in her anyway. All the while I know what I did see; Jake’s dick in her in our bed.

“Watch my back.” I told the girls, and they all looked towards where I was skating at. They soon followed me when they knew immediately where I was going. The memories came flooding back.

I haven’t spoken to Mandy sinch I quit. It was around April of last year, Wrestlemania season, when everything went down and I had filed for divorce 2 weeks later. That was the final nail in the coffin of my marriage with Jake, and I couldn’t take it anymore. With all the blatant disrespect; the awkward silences when I asked him about the finances of our joint accounts; the secret rendezvous he’d have coming home late, the high expense charges and the lying.

I thought he was different from all the others but that was lie, a bold face lie. We got married right after graduation, in 2014, two years later I started working in Orlando. The first full year on the job I introduced Jake to Mandy. It had been a whirlwind to work for WWE with my medical degree, to make sure the superstars were in tip top shape. With the constant bickering, physical altercations and accusations he threw at me, about sleeping with one of my coworkers I had to put out marriage on pause that same year.

A year of separation had put my mind into perspective and think about what I wanted out of this marriage. We had agreed to meet up at our house, I was staying at Cynthia’s at that time, for dinner to catch up. I still had a key to the condo, it was in my name, and I looked all over the house for him. What do I see walking up the stairs? Mandy riding Jake like no tomorrow. He tried to save his ass by running away from me, as I waved my steel bat at him. Mandy was long gone and laughing by then.

Putting in my resignation was hard but I had to do it. Now more than ever, I was focused on me and only me. Moving back home to New York was just the beginning. During the first few months, filing for divorce, I did go on a few dates. Only a few guys came home with me, none of them satisfied the itch I craved. Maybe Florian could be the one to fix that.

Trying not to fall while skating through the crowd, I made it to the group that just came in. Sonja Deville sported me quick and pulled me into a tight embrace. The death glare I set straight towards Mandy could be picked out of a much bigger crowd.

“Geneva! It’s been too long. How’ve you been?”

Keeping my composure I returned Sonja’s gesture.

“I’ve been well, been well. Working on my personal trainor thing, keeping the lights on. I’m always busy, plus going back to school so yeah.”

I made it my priority, to keep my bond strong with Sonja, after I left the company. When I told the MMA fighter about the scene I witnessed, she couldn’t fathom it either. She promised to keep an eye out on Mandy for me as well.

She was one of the first people, besides my crew of course, to message me about the sly matching posts on Instagram, between Florian and I. She wished us nothing but luck and invite her to the wedding in the future.

“I hear ya. I hear ya. Just to let you know, I did keep- ah hell.” An exaggerated sigh escaped Sonja’s lips, causing my face to contort in confusion.

“Uh something wrong?” I asked curiously, seeing her visibly gulp.

“Want me to be honest?”

“I expect nothing from a woman who kicked my ass in practice back in Orlando.” Earning a soft chuckle from her, she sighed and turned me around to the scene.

“That little bitch.” The growl that erupted in the back of my throat, made Sonja go wide eyed.

“Geneva-”

Before she could even finish that sentence, a let my anger skate me towards Florian. I was already attached to him and I didn’t want Mandy to ruin that for me. She was touching all over him; feeling him up, touching his face, shoving her silicone bean bags in his face and just being her trashy self. The look of discomfort shown on his face, but soon shifted once I came into view.

“Hey Florian, ready to go skate?” I intervened so fast, that you could see steam coming out of Mandy’s ears.

“Well lookie here, It’s the hag. Listen honey, he doesn’t want to skate with the likes of you. He’s having fun talking to me. Isn’t that right Florian?” Moving her hand on his chest, you could see the disagreeable expression on his face. Upon removing her hand from his chest, he stood by me and I felt my body temperature erupt in euphoria and triumph, as if I had won.

“Well I was here to skate with Geneva and her friends.”

Mandy sneered at me with her fake lips and tosses her bleach blonde hair.

“Fine, but this isn’t over Geneva. May the best woman win. Oh and Florian, I’ll catch you later.” Being the snake that she is, she leaned up on her tippy toes and placed a kiss on his cheek, before leaving with her friends. I wanted to claw at her face so bad, yet I’m surprised Florian held me back.

“It’s Genevieve to you.” I gritted through my teeth.

You see, lately I’ve been talking to Florian about myself, opening up a bit more, getting to know one another better and such. I had mentioned Mandy in the conversation, how she was one of the causes of my divorce, and how she tried to one up everyone. He knew her through a friend of theirs, they chatted and had a night together.

Although she got too clingy for  him after that and it’s not in him to just let a woman go after a night, but he needed to be away from her. By the time this all transpired, it was before his practice scenes for Creed. That’s when I met him on set a month later.

“I’m sorry that happened Geneva. Nor did I know she was coming either.” He tried to sooth and keep me calm. I had never been consoled by another man who wasn’t my father or my brothers.

Glancing up at Florian I saw hope; dedication and devotion. Some qualities I loved in any man, but this man here was something else. Collecting myself together, I took a breather and skated away from him on to the rink floor.

“It’s all good Flo.” The way I said his nickname, caused his face to heat up in embarrassment. The action caused his sweet smile to appear as he leaned against the rock wall, watching me groove to the music in place for a bit. He was entranced by just a little movement.

“So I hear that you’re, Queen of skating huh?”

“Maybe so. If you can keep up with me during this song or the next I’ll go on that date.”

“Wait wait, for real?” He arched a brow, as I nodded.

“Foreal. I’ll go on a date with you if you can keep up.” Sending off a wink before I skated off to the jumping sounds of reggae music. Moving my hips to the rhythm, I kept eye contact with him as I move to the beat.

My hips have a mind of their own, as I float across the floor and take off my jacket. I managed to hand it to Cynthia as I skated around to hand it to her and I kept going. I always felt at home here, it was never a dull moment.

Upon hearing the song change over, to Rock the Boat by the ever so great Aaliyah,I felt a pair of strong hands grace my hips. I didn’t think he’d catch up to me.

“Guess who?” His warm voice graced my left ear, and sent chills through my body, as we grooved to the music in sync. Moving my hips on instinct against him, rolling in tandem with his hands around the rink.

“So Flo got rhythm. So tell me, how do you know how to skate?”

“A movie you mentioned, that was your favorite. May have picked up a few pointers.” Grabbing my hand on cue, he twirled me around before bring me back to his strong, broad chest. I stand corrected, I was in heaven.

“You watched Roll Bounce? And you listened to me too.”

“And I’ve been skating since I was 10. So that’s just a bonus.”

Dancing on him with the music changing, made the tension grow hotter and more sensual. Lost Without You started playing and I followed Florian’s movement this time around. Hearing his gentle voice singing in my ear once more, I began to sing along with him. I haven’t felt this much emotion in so long, I’m starting to feel like this was meant to happen. The smooth gentle rocking, made me feel like I was floating. We were floating. I felt safe in his arms more than I thought. I could feel his rigid muscles through his shirt on my back, making me hold back a moan.

I know he could feel the connection as well. The grip on my hips told me otherwise. Placing my hands on top of his, I laced our fingers together before turning to skate backwards.

“White boy got some moves. I like it, you can keep up with me.” He twirled me around a bit before holding me against his chest again. I leaned my head back to look up at him a little, just to place a kiss on his chin.

“That’s not all I can do.” The deep baritone bass of his throat made me want to jump his bones right then and there.

“Oh I bet.” I teased him back by rotating my ass against him, earning a low growl to erupt from his chest. Gege can play too Flo.

The Dj let everyone know that it was time to roll out, and to drive safely. Rolling off the floor, we met up with our group and planned the next move of action to extend the night. The rink was starting to close up soon, so we all met in the parking lot.

“Girl we saw you and Florian getting down like an old southern couple.” Cynthia nugged me, giving me a sly look.

“Y’all were doing the damn thing.” Destiny winked and caused me to laugh a bit.

Cassie high fives me before heading to her car.

“Geneva, I’ll catch you later this week aight? Gotta get up for work in the morning. I’ll see if I can bring Josephine to the meeting.”

Sending her my love my regards, I placed my skates in the back of my Range Rover.

“So y’all good for some bar hopping? I know this great spot along the jersey shore.” Ryan mentioned while looking up the directions.

“I can’t. I have class in the morning and a test, I need to be sober for. Sorry guys.” Gently replying I smiled up at the crew before shrugging.

“Dang maybe next time. Oh what about our monthly couples game night? How about Monday, Geneva’s?” Destiny suggested as she headed towards her Jeep renegade.

“Couples game night? Sounds intriguing, I’m in. I’ll bring Johari, you in Florian?” An enthusiastic Michael was all anyone could handle.

Glancing over at me, he smirked gently.

“Yeah I’m down. Geneva, I’ll pick you up tomorrow from class for our date. See y’all around.” Placing a kiss on my cheek, I sighed heavily and bit my lip. This man was gonna be the death of me. The action caused him to chuckle adorably.

“Deal. See you tomorrow Flo.” Kissing his cheek, I saw his face heat up again. Seeing him walk away with my cousin, I let out a soft groan.

“Girl, you are sprung.” Cynthia smirked at me while Destiny let out a gut busting laugh.

“She got it bad.” Destiny couldn’t help herself.

“I will say this; I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave. His ass is sculpted like a god.” I fanned myself in the process.

Hugging my friends goodbye, before getting into my car and driving home, I glanced down at the sound of my phone going off. Glancing down for a split second, I saw the notification. I had received a text message from Florian.

Making it home safely I got ready for my shower and for bed; tying down the massive mess of my 4c curls in a silk scarf, I finally read the message. Leaning against my room door, I read it over and over again, feeling all giddy.

Florian:

Can’t wait for tomorrow night gorgeous. I promise it’ll be worth it. You deserve the best and I plan on delivering. Sweet dreams my queen.

This man knew how to charm his way through anything. Getting back on track, I kept staring at the message. I had to reply and not be rude. So I kept it short and sweet, yet tasteful.

Me:

Looking forward to what you have in store handsome.

“Damn Florian. My heart is yernin for ya love..” singing gently to myself before getting into the shower, I felt powerful. Maybe this is my chance to finally be happy. To finally be free from my chains of the past. This whole turning over a new leaf thing, won’t be so bad after all.

[dapperq]

From @dearworld Orlando Tribute Series. #dearcomingout #pulse Dear World, When I was younger, I had nightmares where someone’s chasing me and I’m running and hiding, I find somewhere to hide, a closet, and sure enough I’m found. That night was just like that but this time it was real. The shots started in the main dance floor area and I didn't know what was happening. I ran to the rear men's restroom underneath the sink. We were waiting for it to pass but it didn't pass. It kept going and going and kept getting closer and closer and suddenly I realized there's nowhere for me to go. I'm trapped. There's no way I can get out. I was shot through the knee and through the foot so I couldn't walk. I pushed my body underneath the stall, down the hallway and had to drag myself to the door. I thought I was gonna die. Before Pulse, some people that knew I was gay, but it was still a sensitive topic for me. I was very protective of myself. There was always the fear of being treated differently. Not only did I have nowhere to hide that night but now in general in my life, this very personal, sensitive subject, it’s out there for everyone to know. That’s why that just kept ringing in my head. Nowhere left to hide. I could no longer hide who I am. Two days after the shooting, I was part of the press conference at the hospital. I had this fear of being exposed and people seeing me, but the fact that someone came into our safe place and killed and injured me and my friends, I thought , "No, I owe it to not only myself but to them to speak out about what happened because they need to know, the world should know". Now everyone knows that I'm gay. Not only did I have nowhere to hide that night but now in general in my life. I felt exposed at the press conference. But at the same time, strangely enough, I also felt empowered. ************************************ Angel Santiago is a survivor of the Pulse nightclub shooting. Instructions/Permissions Interview and portrait by Dear World Tag @dearworld on any social/digital use. We are @dearworld on Instagram/Twitter 📷 @daymongardner for @dearworld https://www.instagram.com/p/ByqEnpgALf6/?igshid=1gtjif79mjcef

[skywalker42]

15 Questions - 15 Friends

I was tagged by @faraahrose! Thanks for thinking of me!

Are you named after anyone?

My mom got the idea from her friend’s name, but my parents say they just used it because they liked it.  So...not technically?  Or maybe technically yes?

When was the last time you cried?

I don’t actually remember. It probably wasn’t that long ago, I just don’t have a great memory.  I sat on the floor in the shower for like 15 minutes today. Does that count?

Do you have kids?

Lol nooooo

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yes indeed-y I do.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Their general body language and attitude, I think.

What’s your eye color?

Greenish?

Scary movie or happy ending?

Happy ending.  I had a bad experience with horror movies in middle school and have largely avoided them since.  Also, happy endings are nice.  Life kinda sucks sometimes so it’s nice to escape and have stories where everything is nicely tied up and the good guys win.

Where were you born?

Orlando basically.

What are your hobbies?

I like to write, draw, read, watch TV, game sometimes, waste copious amounts of time on the interwebs.  I do have a sort of new public art instagram account if any mutuals wanna message me for it, but I don’t post very regularly.  Oh, I also play clarinet.  And tap dance.

Do you have any pets?

A family dog, but he’s really more my mom’s dog.  He’s so attached to her.

What sports do you/have you played?

I started dancing when I was a very very young nugget and loved it so I never really did anything else.  Except marching band, which I’d count as a sport.  Fite meeeee. (Please don’t fight me)

How tall are you?

5′2″ or about 157cm

Favorite subject in school?

In grade school, music and art probably.  In college, music and art probably.�� Art history and mythology were pretty cool, too.

Dream job?

I dunno, man.  Whoever that person is who reads books and picks some to be movies?  But really, something in entertainment.  Right now I’m on an animation track.  I really just want to be making art and telling stories and doing so with a great group of people who make my job into something I get to do instead of something I have to do.

So tag time!  There is absolutely zero obligation to do this if you don’t want to!  Also if I don’t tag you and you want to do it, feel free to say I did.  I also am probably gonna forget some people bc I’m very sleepy so apologies in advance!  So with that said, I invite @pancakesforamber @ineedajobplease (yes I’m really tagging you) @drosselmeyertoade @she-doesnt-have-the-range (again no obligation at all to actually do it! And no explanation required either way!) @that-bear-has-a-lightsaber @trying-to-fight-it @theoncomingstormcage @dammit-im-a-fangirl-not-a-doctor @flashhwing @emilyelfwing @evapaw-of-thunderclan @tooyoungtobethisdamnsadnsassy @inescapable94 @sillysillyemma @non-bye-naryxoxo That’s 15? Idk man I haven’t taken math in almost 5 years lol

[theteablogger]

Celebrity Spin

The following is a recounting of instances in which Andy has claimed celebrity connections and/or posed as a facilitator for his friends to gain celebrity contact or attention. I’ve used his previous aliases where relevant, so for those of you who may be reading about him for the first time, please be aware that Victoria Bitter and Jordan Wood are both Andy—and I strongly recommend checking out Abbey’s glossary.

Here’s a TL;DR version:

Lying to people in the Horatio Hornblower fandom about having connections to various actors and other entertainment/media figures, including pretending to date Jamie Bamber.

Pretending to channel Elijah Wood, Orlando Bloom, and a host of other celebrities and fictional characters for more than four years, and keeping a blog as “stealth” Elijah Wood for part of that time. (He claimed that this was the result of a mental illness exacerbated by Abbey’s alleged demands to talk to this or that celebrity/character whenever she felt like it.)

Telling Sean Astin about Bit of Earth and getting him involved in Project Elanor.

The Red Book Project, a fan-made scrapbook that Bit of Earth presented to Sean Astin.

The Hall of Fire music festival, which he claimed would be hosted by Elijah Wood. A disaster, but a relatively small-scale one.

Having Sean Astin call Abbey and propose to her on Andy’s behalf while she and Andy were on stage at Hall of Fire.

The Lost Palantir Film Festival, which he said would feature an in-person appearance by Billy Boyd; then by Sean Astin; then video appearances/interviews by Sean Astin, Dominic Monaghan, and Viggo Mortensen. Sean Astin did provide a video greeting for the festival; the rest was a lie.

Tentmoot, the convention that never happened, with a huge, ever-changing, and mostly bogus roster of celebrity guests—three of whom actually flew in from New Zealand and were extremely unhappy.

Stanning hard for Misha Collins and becoming fixated on the idea of meeting him and giving him a hug. This was allegedly all for the sake of Brittany, who never watched Supernatural before she was killed, but (Andy said) was totally the Cas to his Dean.

GISHWHES 2013, in which Andy treated his entire team horribly and blamed it on wanting so much to help his friend meet Misha.

DC Con 2014, where—among other questionable behaviors—Andy told people that Osric Chau had given him his phone number. He also claimed that Osric had changed his life by giving him a lengthy pep talk (and several shorter ones, later on) about his career and not worrying about “the haters”. He stanned less for Osric than he did for Misha, but it was still awkward and uncomfortable.

Using a child to try to get Sebastian Stan’s attention on Instagram, during the period in which he was cosplaying Bucky and displaying many of the same behaviors that he’d engaged in during the Bit of Earth and DAYD eras. Andy said that the child whose picture he’d posted was a recent immigrant from Romania who loved Cap and Bucky and would love to hear from Stan; however, the Instagram posts strongly suggested that he wasn’t interested and just wanted to talk about Pokemon.

Tagging Lupita Nyong’o in an Instagram post of his friend wearing a Nakia costume that he made. She reposted it months later and tagged him back. Soon after, Andy tweeted at both Team Alpha and the official Critical Role account, with the excuse that he was doing it to support another friend. He later claimed to be shocked at how much attention he was getting and reminded people that he’d said he was done with fandom, and that he was really just being a good, caring friend.

More details behind the cut—but not all the details, because I don’t have time to write the dozens of pages that would take.

2001 Date unknown Victoria Bitter tells friends in the Horatio Hornblower fandom that he is in the UK and is dating Jamie Bamber. They very quickly figure out that he is lying. He also claims to have met a number of actors and to be well-connected in the entertainment industry, but his stories keep changing, so no one really believes him.

2002 January 4 Victoria Bitter starts the Bit of Earth Yahoo! group, dedicated to fans of Samwise Gamgee. That same day, he e-mails the webmaster of Sean Astin’s official website to let them know about the group and encourage Sean to get involved.

September 11 Victoria Bitter approaches Sean Astin at a 9/11 memorial event in NYC and asks him to participate in a community service project to promote children’s literacy. Later that day, he announces Project Elanor on Bit of Earth.

2003 Bear in mind that during all of the Bit of Earth events, Jordan (Victoria Bitter’s new alias after “leaving fandom” in November 2002)  is pretending to channel Elijah Wood, a host of LotR characters and actors, and a number of original characters. He has been doing it for a year by the time Project Elanor comes around. Only Abbey and Little Sam know about this (Diamond “figures it out” in December) and he has convinced them that it’s all real. He will go on pretending to channel various “Others” for the next several years, eventually replacing Elijah Wood with Orlando Bloom.

April 6 Project Elanor takes place with Sean Astin and his family in attendance. The event is a success in spite of Jordan’s disorganization and poor planning. Various people manage to scramble around and make a lot of last-minute arrangements for things that Jordan forgot about and the group work their asses off both to prepare the site before the main event, and to finish things up in the weeks afterward. When Jordan attends one of the post-Elanor work parties, he fakes a hand injury so that he won’t be expected to help anymore.

At the end of the Project Elanor event, Sean Astin is presented with the first volume of the Red Book. This is a scrapbook to which each member of Bit of Earth contributed a page to show their admiration and appreciation for Astin and his performance in The Fellowship of the Ring. Non-members were permitted to send in their comments to be included, but these would only be printed on parchment paper and placed in a separate section of the book. The promise of being able to create something especially for Sean Astin naturally did a lot to increase people’s interest in and commitment to Bit of Earth. There is supposed to be a volume of the Red Book for each of the three movies, but for obvious reasons, only the first one is ever completed.

July 25-26 Bit of Earth puts on the Hall of Fire music festival at a park in Portland, OR. Jordan said that Elijah Wood would be hosting, and even had a volunteer gather donations of frequent flier miles and book a flight for him—but of course he doesn’t come. And while he promised that quite a number of bands and artists would be there, he never contacted most of them and didn’t follow up with the others, so very few end up on the roster and the festival is generally a failure. Jordan once again is disorganized, communicates poorly (at times actually refusing to communicate) with his volunteers, and leaves everything until the last minute. For example, he obtains and pays for the festival permit with last-minute donations on the day the event is supposed to start, causing it to be cut from two days to one. And then the check bounces. The one element of Hall of Fire that does go as planned is that Sean Astin, who is appearing at GenCon at the time, uses a Bit of Earth member’s cellphone to call Abbey and propose to her on Jordan’s behalf, while they’re both on stage.

September 20 Bit of Earth holds the Lost Palantir Film Festival. Jordan said that Billy Boyd would be appearing, then said that Sean Astin would definitely be there, and in the end, neither of them is in attendance. The day before the event, however, Jordan tells one of the volunteers that Sean Astin has agreed to provide a video appearance, that Dominic Monaghan and Viggo Mortensen have both agreed to be interviewed on video for the festival, and that Dom and Viggo will be providing autographs for the festival winners. He immediately sends said volunteer to LA to handle all of this. She gets the tape from Astin’s PR firm right away, and then spends many hours waiting to hear from representatives for the other two while Jordan feeds her one story after another to excuse the delay. In the end, she barely makes her flight back on the day of the festival and only has Sean Astin’s taped appearance to show for it. Eventually it is revealed that no one from Bit of Earth ever contacted Dominic Monaghan’s representatives at all, and that Viggo Mortensen declined the request for autographs and an interview. It was all a lie.

Late September – early December By this point, planning for Bit of Earth’s Tentmoot convention has been in full swing for several months. Jordan once again has no idea how to plan the event and covers his ignorance and disorganization with one lie after another, including that the event is “secure-donation-based” and that he has a number of backup plans in case a donation falls through. Among the celebrities that Jordan says at various times will be convention guests are Sean Bean, Orlando Bloom, Karl Urban, Billy Boyd, Miranda Otto, David Wenham, Howard Shore, Kiran Shah, Sala Baker, Lawrence Makaore, Paul Randall, Jed Brophy, and Brian Sergent. He also says that staff are “working with” Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, Weezer, Everclear, Weird Al, and a number of other bands and artists. Most of these claims end up with bizarre, convoluted stories (all bogus) about being given the run-around by this or that person’s PR firm. While he does make contact with a few of the celebrities’ representatives, it is Jordan’s own unprofessional behavior and tendency to do everything at the last minute that really get in the way. In some cases, Jordan writes extremely insulting and libelous things in the process of blaming the actors themselves for causing problems. Several less well-known bands actually are booked by another Bit of Earth member, and the last four actors on that list agree to attend.

Jordan alleges for months that Air New Zealand has agreed that several of the NZ actors, as well as the band The Black Seeds, can fly to the US free of charge to appear at the convention; however, he doesn’t contact the airline until November 28. Predictably, they won’t just give away all those round-trip tickets for international flights. A few days before Tentmoot’s start date, he tells Turimel that Air NZ has reneged on the deal and asks for her help to come up with an alternative plan. He also badgers Abbey into asking a number of people to give her their credit card information. He assures her that the cards will not be charged and will only be used to demonstrate that Bit of Earth has available credit to cover the cost of airfare. Understandably, no one else is willing to get involved with this. Jordan then persuades Turimel to provide her credit card information to pay for airfare for Makaore, Randall, Brophy, and Sergent, promising that she will be promptly repaid with money from Tentmoot ticket sales. He makes Abbey cancel the appearances of the convention guests whose flights they can’t afford with the amount available on Turimel’s card.

December 9 Jordan receives word that Turimel has canceled the plane tickets because she’s realized, with the help of another Bit of Earth member, that he is a great big fraud. He fakes a suicide attempt and is carted off to the hospital, leaving Abbey, Diamond, and Little Sam to deal with everything on their own. The word gets out to everyone else that Tentmoot is not happening and was never going to happen. The number of tickets actually sold in advance is less than 30.

December 11 Having checked in at the airport before their tickets could be canceled, Jed Brophy, Paul Randall, and Brian Sergent arrive in LA for a convention that doesn’t exist. Abbey, Diamond, and Little Sam scramble to accommodate them, as there isn’t any budget for meals or a hotel. The actors end up using the return portions of their tickets to fly home, meaning that Turimel can’t get a refund on them. Diamond also pays some sort of fee to arrange this.

For all Bit of Earth events, Jordan was the only person handling the finances, and therefore the only one who knew how bad things actually were. He had teams working with him on various aspects of each event, but he gave them false and often conflicting information and sometimes did things like send letters/e-mails and open accounts in their names without telling them. Abbey in particular had no part in planning Hall of Fire or Tentmoot and knew very little of what was happening, but Jordan did have her make the occasional announcement or presentation (with false information that he provided). Hall of Fire was planned while she was preparing to move, and in the months leading up to Tentmoot, Jordan wanted her to focus on taking care of him and his “Others”. Her reward was supposed to be getting to coordinate and talk with the celebrities themselves at the convention. Similarly, Jordan made a big deal out of getting Sean Bean as a guest just for Diamond—and in his pitch letter, Jordan offered Diamond up to him sexually.

After this, Jordan, Abbey, and Diamond do their best to lie low. Jordan becomes Andy (now “channeling” Orlando Bloom) and is mostly off the radar for three years, except when Turimel posts about him.

2007 March 4 After Abbey’s mother gets her away from him, Andy issues his first public “apology” for his actions in LotR fandom. Among a litany of other excuses, he says that because he wanted so much for them to like him, he considered fulfilling Abbey’s and the Bit of Earth members’ “whims” to be a matter of life and death, so he did anything he could to bring them into contact with celebrities, or to make it appear not to be his fault when he couldn’t. This is also his explanation for all the fake channeling: he was mentally ill, and he just wanted to make Abbey happy. In other words, she and her so-called whims were as much to blame for his actions as he was, if not more so.

Aside from being an evasion of responsibility, this doesn’t even make sense because no one asked him to do these things. Andy was the one who introduced Abbey to “channeling” in the first place, and he pretended to “bring through” Elijah Wood by mistake while trying to reach Frodo. She, Diamond, and Little Sam certainly didn’t ask him to go on pretending to be a laundry list of people for years afterward, although I have no doubt he persuaded each of them to request that he bring through a particular “Other” at some point, to make them complicit. No one asked him to tell Sean Astin about Bit of Earth, and it was Andy’s idea to get him involved with Project Elanor. The Red Book Project was also his idea, based on something the Horatio Hornblower fandom had done for Jamie Bamber. As far as I can tell, he was also the one who introduced the idea of Elijah Wood emceeing at Hall of Fire and of Billy Boyd and/or Sean Astin appearing at the Lost Palantir Film Festival. As for Tentmoot, he solicited people’s ideas for celebrity guests to invite, he encouraged (at times even badgered) people to write to the celebrities and their publicists to encourage them to attend, and he falsely advertised that various people would be there who had no idea what Tentmoot even was. Yes, there probably were times that a Bagender or a member of Bit of Earth said, “Hey, Jordan, I’d love to meet [actor]; do you think we can get them for [event]?” But by and large, all of the celebrity crap originated with him.

2008 - 2012 No celebrities become involved with DAYDverse at any time; the closest Andy comes to attempting to bring them in is when he lies about Matthew Lewis and Devon Murray’s having read DAYD and Sluagh. Rather than trying to gain influence over his friends by getting them attention and celebrity contacts, Andy focuses on “helping” them in more mundane ways, supposedly putting his health and already precarious finances at great risk to do so. His ways of helping people include, but are not limited to, trying to pair off DAYDians with each other, convincing DAYDians that they have been or are being horribly abused by their families, and giving DAYDians “therapy” to help with issues like depression and low self-esteem (often making things worse in the end). He literally refers to some of his friends as “projects”. I believe that Andy takes this approach rather than involving celebrities partly because he is attempting to avoid detection—and after Abbey reveals his new identity to Turimel, he’s desperately trying to convince people that it was a completely different person, either an evil twin or a stranger who looks a lot like him, that did all those terrible things in LotR fandom. It’s also because he’s intent on getting as much attention and admiration as possible for himself, from what he likes to call “his own subfandom”, and making DAYDians feel indebted to him and dependent on him helps with that. Although the DAYDverse’s heyday is over even before Brittany’s murder in May 2011, he continues trying to recruit new people for quite some time after that.

November 13 The Misha-stanning begins when Andy refers to himself on his tumblr as “the DAYDverse equivalent of Misha Collins”.

2013 Andy’s Misha stanning continues throughout 2013 and most of 2014. He poses as an authority on the entertainment industry (especially television writing and production) and on the stars of Supernatural, at times literally writing about what he says the actors, writers, set designers, etc. are thinking and then posting “shocked” responses to anons that ask whether he works for the show in some capacity. Andy doth protest way, way too much. He does his best to appear to be very wise and to have had a hard life that has made him deeply compassionate to the point of selflessness, but also to be fun, energetic, idiosyncratic, and “random”. This is suspiciously similar to Misha’s public image.

Andy also gets creepy about Osric Chau in 2013 and early 2014, but not to the extent that he does with Misha.

February 26 This is when Andy starts writing about how similar Destiel is to his relationship with Brittany. In a nutshell, he says that he was extremely mentally ill when he met her in 2009, and she was the first person to see that and to be able to help him start “climbing out” of it. Some time after she was murdered, he says that God led him to a picture of Castiel healing Dean that said, “Love heals you when you’d rather stay broken”—something Brittany had allegedly said to him. (The truth, as attested to by other DAYDians who knew her personally, is that she believed in his channeling and other supernatural abilities, participated in at least one “spiritual battle” with him, and backed up his obviously false stories even when he wasn’t around.) Andy then says that he needs to attend a convention because he has to “hug Misha Collins and thank him for my life and tell him Brittany says thank you too, even though he won’t know who she is.” The following day, he makes another post about how much Destiel reminds him of their relationship and how “complex” it was.

August 11-18 GISHWHES 2013. Andy dedicates his participation in the event to Brittany: “This one’s for you, M’Bidney, and I’m in it to win it.”

Andy treats his GISHWHES team so badly that he ruins it for many of them. He tells the team that anyone who has anxiety will want to kill themselves by day three, knowing that some members do have anxiety disorders. As soon as the 156-item list is released, he claims a third of it, although some team members aren’t even there to dispute it. He then disappears and is out of contact for most of the week.

While other team members cooperate by discussing their items, showing each other works in progress, etc., Andy only shows them one item in the middle of the week and is angry when they offer constructive criticism. He tells them that they aren’t doing enough and need to work harder, but rather than try to help, he’s working with one friend who’s also a team member and other local friends who aren’t even signed up for the hunt. As one member puts it the following year, “As soon as Andy joined the team, it wasn’t team [name], it was team Andy.” Even the people who work directly with him aren’t treated well. He pushes everyone much harder than is necessary, including harassing some of them into going without sleep in order to get more items done. They are all under tremendous emotional strain. One of his friends gets a migraine, and while she’s off recuperating, Andy talks with her 15-year-old son and (in her words) they decide that her son is gay. Andy sends him into her room to come out to her right then and there. When her migraine finally breaks, she explains to Andy that while she would be more than accepting if her son were gay, she’s pretty sure he’s just trying to get attention from Andy in any way he can. In response, Andy calls her a shit mother.

In the end, many of the items that Andy says he’s done don’t even get uploaded to the GISHWHES site, so they can’t be counted. Obviously they don’t win.

Andy proceeds to blame his bad behavior on having “lost” his medication, although it was on his friend’s kitchen counter all week, and he’d told her that he was deliberately going off it in order to stay awake. He also says that he behaved this way because he was just so determined to win, as he’d promised this same friend that he would do whatever was in his power to get her to meet Misha Collins. Andy claims that he personally has no interest in that as a GISHWHES prize, and that his teammates will testify to this. In a number of posts, he keeps harping on how this friend cares so much more about meeting Misha and other SPN actors than he does, how he’s let her down, and how everything he did was for her. (This is the same friend that he called a shit mother, by the way.)

2014 May 2-4 Andy attends DC Con. During the convention, among other questionable things, he tells several people that Osric Chau has given him his phone number. When he comes back home, he posts on tumblr about being “pinned down” by Osric at the convention. Supposedly, after the con karaoke party, Osric recognized Andy’s tumblr name when it came up in conversation and asked why he wasn’t pursuing some form of professional writing as a career. Andy blamed internet haters, saying that if he had any level of success, they would ensure that “distorted versions and rumors about [his] lowest moments” were spread everywhere. He says that Osric then gave him a five-minute pep talk about taking the risk anyway. Afterward, he says, Osric kept at him every time they bumped into each other at the con and gave him further career advice.

SPN fandom had already been warned about Andy in early 2013, and it didn’t slow him down at all. After DC Con, there is a resurgence of discussion about his history of abusing people. He attempts to address it for a while, but eventually says that he’s done talking about “the wank”. He doesn’t claim further connections to any celebrities or try to get attention from celebrities for his friends for the rest of his time on tumblr, perhaps to avoid being criticized for it again.

2017 At this point, Andy has been cosplaying Bucky for a while and a number of people have expressed concern at the way he seems to be over-identifying with the character. For example, he’s talked about having “sense memories” of things from 1920s-30s New York—the time and place in which Bucky grew up—and he’s claimed that his hair has somehow changed color on its own to look exactly like Bucky’s. These are very similar to claims that he made regarding himself and Frodo/Elijah Wood in the early 2000s.

March - April Andy posts a picture and a video of a child on his Instagram, tagging Sebastian Stan and saying that the child (a recent immigrant from Romania, where Stan was born and spent his early childhood) loves Captain America and would be excited to hear from him. Naturally, a number of his followers are charmed by this and also tag Sebastian Stan in the comments. In the background of the picture are a number of Pokemon that the boy has drawn. In the video posted the same day, the kid talks about a Pokemon that he’s created, and isn’t very responsive when Andy tries to bring the conversation around to Cap and Bucky. When Andy posts a picture of one of the kid’s drawings a month later, it’s also Pokemon-themed. It appears that this child isn’t all that interested in Marvel and that Andy may be trying to get him in touch with Stan in order to forge some kind of connection between himself and the actor playing his latest fictional obsession. This may also be an attempt to increase his appeal and attract more followers.

By late 2017, Andy’s Bucky-related posting has significantly slowed down. He is beginning to get into Critical Role fandom and tweets a lot about how the show and the cast are changing his life, teaching him so much about himself, etc.—the same things that he said in SPN fandom. He seems to be hoping to attract the cast’s attention and particularly that of Taliesin Jaffe, who plays the CR character that Andy has latched onto. Eventually a warning post goes around, prompting more warnings and discussion of his past, and Andy promises to leave CR fandom, and fandom as a whole, forever.

2018 February On Valentine’s Day, Lupita Nyong’o reposts a picture of Andy’s friend wearing a Nakia costume that he made, which Andy had shared on Instagram months before. Andy later tweets a picture of another friend watching Critical Role and talks about how happy he is that she enjoys it so much, tagging Team Alpha. A short time after that, he tweets a link to that same friend’s Critical Role fanfiction and uses it as an excuse to tag the official CR account. Andy subsequently posts on Instagram and Twitter to express surprise at the amount of attention that (he says) he’s receiving following the Nakia costume repost. He assures people that he’s done with fandom; he’s just being supportive of his friends and trying to get more attention (including attention from celebs) for them.

[transandshirtless]

@theofficial_amarijayce . . NEW PROMO feature this amazing human!! Amari J is a single father of 3 in the Orlando area! He is a personal favorite of admin @beckemshane because of his strong drive to be the best he can be for his three littles!! When asked to tell us about himself and what he stands for Amari said, “I have a dream to try and change the world one person at a time. Whether it be the way they think about themselves, or the way they allow others opinions about them to affect their lives, or to show people outside the lgbtq community that we’re humans too, we have families, we have feelings, and we have rights! I believe that one person can start a movement and one person can make a change all on their own. It’s just a matter of making a change and fighting for what’s right!” - Thank you for being you Amari!!! . . . Want to be feature as a Promo for @TransAndShirtless? Send us a DM with a quality photo of yourself and a short descriptions of who you are! If selected we will create a promo and send it back! . . . To be featured - DM the photo of your choice; please include your Instagram tag and a caption.. MUST BE TRANS IDENTIFYING PERSON.. We understand people are from all walks of life but we ask you to understand that there are IG accounts for all walks too.. Please hit up the proper accounts.. 🆗🆒 Must be shirtless in the photo.. Binder, bra and bikini tops okay.. Must fall within insta guidelines.. 👣👣 We will use our best judgment to follow these rules.. If you haven’t had top surgery..🔝🔝 If you identify as female..💁‍♀️💁‍♀️ CENSOR YOUR PHOTO BEFORE YOU SEND IT!! 🚫🚫 If you are under the age of 18..🔞🔞 Only submit headshots or on T-shirt Tuesdays.. Don’t be offended if we don’t post you because you are not within the guidelines.. We like our page and want to keep it going!! 💯💯 Finally.. If we show you love.. Show us love back!! We have several promos throughout our page!! 👌🏼👌🏼 “Fighting dysphoria one shirtless selfie at a time!”™️💉💉 #transhuman #trans #transandproud #transgender #transvisibility #nonbinary #nonbinaryvisibility #nonbinaryproud #transandshirtlesspromo #transINOrlando

[soulofawander]

Hello, I was tagged by @valhallstruevalkyrie @tarinya-quinn @opeths @leafabulous thank you so much ^-^!!

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people. THE LAST: 1. Drink: Water 2. Phone call: My dad 3. Text message: Allie, @freaky-ghost 4. Song you listened to: Opeth's Cusp of eternity, it's so freaking good :) 5. Time you cried: Few days ago HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: no 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: No 8. Been cheated on: not that I know of 9. Lost someone special: yeah 10. Been depressed:  well, nothing diagnosed but you know. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: never LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12. green 13. blue 14. yellow IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: of course 16. Fallen out of love: I've fallen IN love  17. Laughed until you cried: ohhh yes 18. Found out someone was talking about you: found out? no, but you know, people like to talk so that happens, whether it's positive or negative. 19. Met someone who changed you: hells yeah I did 20. Found out who your friends are: I know who my friends are 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: actually now, yes GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: like, most of them 23. Do you have any pets: no 24. Do you want to change your name: I don't think so. though François-Xavier could have been my name, and that's cool, but I'm fine with my current name. 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: Funeral. yup.. 26. What time did you wake up: 6h30am 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: chatting with Allie ^_^ 28. Name something you can’t wait for: Travelling again soon!!! 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: A week or two 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: having infinite travel money

31. What are you listening right now: I'm Watching Friends

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Thomas, yes. 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: Disrespect 34. Most visited Website: this, facebook, Instagram etc etc. LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. Mole/s: no? 36. Mark/s: surgery scars 37. Childhood dream: Being an interpreter 38. Haircolor: Brown 39. Long or short hair:Longish 40. Do you have a crush on someone: fuck yes, though it's more than a crush 41. What do you like about yourself: my language learning skills I guess. 42. Piercings: none 43. Bloodtype: O Positive 44. Nickname: Vince 45. Relationship status: Taken.  46. Zodiac: Scorpio 47. Pronouns: Just call me by my name,  I don't really know how to answer that question  48. Favorite TV Show: Family guy, Smallville, The Flash, Arrow, Dexter, The Blacklist and so many more 49. Tattoos: I have 2 on my left arm 50. Right or left hand: Left-handed 51. Surgery: Right hand and foot, and maybe brain eventually if I decide to do that 52. Hair dyed in different color: nah 53. Sport: Basketball for the last 20 years 55. Vacation: Iceland, or Germany, Scotland, NZ, AUS, US, just everywhere, Fuck, I wanna travel 56. Pair of trainers: no idea what that is MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: grapes 58. Drinking: water. 59. I’m about to: finish this post 61. Waiting for: My next trip to Orlando 62. Want: @freaky-ghost 63. Get married: no idea, it depends on a bunch of stuff. 64. Career: anything that allows me to travel and learn languages. PLEASE 65. Hugs or kisses: both, equally nice. 66. Lips or eyes: eyes but lips too 67. Shorter or taller: I'd have to go with shorter only because I've never seen a woman that's taller than I am. Or even men are rarely my height. 68. Older or younger: don't care about age but like, it's gotta be legal you dig? 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: people are beautiful 71. Sensitive or loud: that doesn't mean anything, these words aren't even antonyms, I don't know what I'm supposed to say. 72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship, hands down 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: anti-conformist, traveller, spontaneous. HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: No 75. Drank hard liquor: Yes 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: No 77. Turned someone down: yeah??  78. Sex in the first date: ? 79. Broken someone’s heart: I hope not 80. Had your heart broken: yeah 81. Been arrested: Nah 82. Cried when someone died: yeah 83. Fallen for a friend: when I was younger DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: yes. because that's the way to go. people have got to know everyone has something to offer the world and that even in periods of doubts, everyone can be great and do something beautiful and just BE beautiful and nice and positive. 85. Miracles: universal coincidences yes. 86. Love at first sight: yes 87. Santa Claus: nah 88. Kiss on the first date: yes 89. Angels: yeah OTHER: 90. Current best friends name: lots of good friends 91. Eyecolor: Brown as crap hahahahahaha 92. Favorite movie: I watched Keeping up with the Joneses and it's freaking funny.

20 people to tag, okay here we go: @freaky-ghost @hobbitsmind @hippiehooperlove @scarsoftheshatteredsky @finnishtrolls @cnatab @blodbranddod @onneni @mathiasismywhore @theweirdgirlthatlikesmetal @nebraskan-metalhead @mirror-sword-and-shield @sonador-reveur @xochitl-metal @vadzianik @type-ho-negative @ollis-beard @minhyriath @the-midnight-knows-it-well @ebbandflow @prideandperdition

 That's if you want to, of course :)

[xfirespritex]

More Than a Game - Part 4

A TJ Perkins story

Story Summary: Reader and TJ are friends but when he sees her in a new light he decides he wants to know more. Will this work out or ruin their friendship?

Chapter Summary: TJ works on proving he cares. Reader slowly warms back up to him. Cute moments ahead.

Pairing: TJ Perkins X Reader

Warnings: None for this chapter except for some cursing.

Tag List:

@wwesmutdonedirtcheap @heelcharlie @thedeboniardevistation

@xxnobodyshero13xx @speedilyghostlycloud @fan-fiction-galore

@amaranthine-reign @lordoftheringsmyass @justtheaverageblog1

@alpha-american @aineslight @reigns420 @deajm2116

@redroseblackwolfpack96 @blondekel77 @shieldgirl95

@gelinas22 @vebner37 @banrioncethlenn @moxtiel

@caramara3 @fmlallthewayup @breezy14fan @secretagentfangirl

@crowleysqueenofhell @abominablestrowman279

@laochbaineann @wrestlingnoob @logandemico

@calwitch @sjwrites22 @georgiadean37

@houndofjustice-imagines  @neeadinghugs

Part 4

Ever since TJ’s near injury things had been better. He’d been careful in the ring or, well, as careful as you can be in the cruiserweight division when you’re jumping off of things. Still, TJ was doing his best to prove to me that I hadn’t made a mistake.

The day after our conversation I’d found a single rose with my mail and, after thanking him for it he said he was glad I liked it and to expect more.

So, every day since then, a rose has appeared at my house. Whether it’s in my mail, taped to my front door, on my car’s windshield, it didn’t matter. They were everywhere. I’d had to pull out every vase I owned and was hoping they’d stay alive for a while as the mere sight of them made me smile.

TJ was around more, between 205 appearances he flew back to Orlando and made it a point to see me, even if it was just for an hour a day. Every time I saw him we got closer to normal again. I know he hated the extra time on planes but I knew he was doing it to see me. I’d never admit it but my heart fluttered at the thought of him doing something like that for me.

Then, the social media started. A photo had leaked of us out getting coffee together and, rather than shying away from it, TJ addressed it. He asked my permission to first and I told him he could do as he wished, so long as it wasn’t overboard.

I probably should’ve clarified what “overboard” was but still, TJ was respectful in his response. It was consistent across all his media, the statement taking place as an Instagram caption or multiple tweets. No matter where it was though, it got the message out there that TJ wanted.

It was a picture of us, from when we’d first met, me sitting in one of TJ’s hotel rooms, wearing his hoodie and gamer glasses, both of us flashing a peace sign and smiling for the camera. His caption was, according to him, the best way he could say what he felt about it.

Some people see two people out together and assume they know the whole story. I’m here to tell you that you don’t. You don’t know everything about my life, or about hers. And you certainly don’t know everything that goes on between us. You see things, you judge, you assume. Believe me when I say you couldn’t know just how great this woman is or how grateful I am to know her and have her in my life. As for what’s going on with us? That’s between me and her.

The post had drawn support and scorn and I watched as people still speculated about us. I saw TJ reading some of the comments and could tell when he was reading one that cheered him on and supported our quest for privacy as we tried to sort it out for ourselves before the whole world knew.

When Hunter called TJ later that day to discuss the post I was sure TJ was in trouble and I’d barely restrained myself from snatching the phone and telling Hunter it was my fault; that I’d been so bothered by the leaked photo. Hunter had assured us both that TJ had handled it well and that he, Hunter, was just calling to make sure we both were okay as it was the first time our personal lives had been so invaded.

“You two being together right now saved me from making another call though,” Hunter joked.

A few weeks later TJ had asked if he could drive me to the Performance Center for the weekly NXT tapings. He had a match that night as well and I had agreed. When he got to my house he held out a simple white rose, a smile on his face as my eyes lit up at the sight of the flower.

“You’re gonna go broke, buying all of these,” I said, taking it from him, unable to hide the smile on my face.

He smiled brightly at me, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Well, I had to make sure you knew that every day I was thinking of you, even when I can’t be here.”

“You don’t need to go broke over it,” I said, laughing as I walked into my kitchen to add it to one of the vases. TJ followed tentatively and when I added the rose to the vase on my kitchen counter I looked over at him and saw him glancing around at all the vases.

“You kept them all?” he asked, his eyes coming to me.

I nodded. “They’re beautiful. And you spent money on them. And, I don’t know, they make me think of you.”

He came to stand in front of me, his voice soft as he spoke, the distance between us minimal but feeling like a mile. “I didn’t think you’d want this many reminders of me, I was just doing it to make sure you knew I was serious. About fixing us.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and looked up at him. “TJ, even without the flowers I know you’re serious.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. I mean, TJ, you’ve been flying back and forth, on your own time and dollar, to get back here to see me every week. You’ve called or texted every day when you’re not here. You told off the entire WWE Universe for prying into our lives…I know that you’re trying to make things right TJ.”

He smiled, almost shy as he shifted his weight. “Just wanted to make sure. I know that I’m lucky to have gotten this chance. I don’t want to mess it up.” His eyes were so sincere as he looked at me, his body tense.

“TJ, if you keep trying this with me, working on it with me, you can’t mess it up. I don’t need flowers to think about you and I don’t need you feeling bad about not being here.”

“You sure?”

I nodded. “I mean, I’m sure the florists around here are going to hate me for telling you to stop buying them but, I believe you, okay?”

His smile grew and he stepped closer to me, reaching one hand up to cup my cheek and keep my gaze locked with his.

“You believe me? About how sorry I am?” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Do you believe, then, that I care about you?” I nodded once more and his other hand came to hold the other side of my face.

“Then, is it okay if I kiss you?”

My heart immediately began to race as I stared up into his eyes. There was hunger and desire there but more than anything there was hope.

I nodded, once and I saw the light in his eyes shift to joy before he leaned down and captured my lips in his, gently. I barely held the whimper in my throat as I closed my eyes and returned the kiss, TJ’s hands still gentle on my cheeks. He broke the kiss slowly, never pushing me and as he pulled back the smile on his face made me smile as well.

“I missed that,” he whispered, his forehead gently pressed to mine.

“Me too,” I whispered.

“We should get going, don’t want to be late,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I nodded and let my hand fall into his as we left the house, grabbing my bag of gear as we went.

--

My match was on the card right before TJ’s so, when it was over, and Ember and I came back having gained a win over Peyton and Billie Kay, TJ was at the gorilla position already, a smile on his face for me.

Ember let my arm go as TJ’s arms encircled me. “You looked great out there,” he whispered into my ear.

I smiled and hugged him back. Over his shoulder I saw Jack Gallagher wink at us before his music hit and he went out to the ring to wait for TJ.

“Good luck out there,” I said as we pulled back. “Be careful, okay?”

TJ nodded, his hand cupping my cheek. “Of course.”

I went up on my toes and kissed his cheek and watched as his cheeks burned red briefly before his chest swelled with pride. Stepping back he went to position for his entrance and, as his music began he looked back over and winked at me before stepping through the curtain.

Immediately I shifted to one of the nearby monitors to watch, trying to not crowd Bloom or Hunter as I watched intently. I bit my lip as his head hit the mat and twisted my hands with worry. He’d been cleared and was fine, I knew it, but it still made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

I watched as TJ, in his heel persona, mocked and took cheap shots at Jack. It was weird, seeing someone who hours ago had been the epitome of sweet acting so cruel and domineering in the ring. When he eventually pinned Jack and climbed to the turnbuckle to celebrate I felt a sigh escape me. Bloom sat back and removed the headset from his ears and looked up at me from his chair.

“That’s the best match he’s had in a long time. Whatever you two sorted out has definitely been for the better, for the both of you.”

I nodded, not having words as Matt winked cheekily at me before turning back to the monitor. I laughed once, uncertain, as I turned to wait for TJ to come through the curtain. Jack came first and winked at me before clearing out as TJ came through.

His eyes found me immediately and he came over, wrapping his arms around me and I giggled as he lifted me. “What’s with the celebration?” I whispered in his ear.

“I know that was a good match. And I know it was because of you.”

“Funny enough, Bloom said the same thing,” I said, pulling back to look at him. TJ’s eyes immediately fell to Bloom and Hunter who were both smirking.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it,” Hunter said as he stood and shook TJ’s hand as he’d done with Jack.

“What?” TJ asked, gripping his hand as I slid to the side to get out of the way.

“What having a good woman behind you will do for your confidence,” Hunter said, winking at me. Immediately I felt my cheeks flame bright red and Hunter laughed, coming over and hugging me.

As we left the area TJ’s hand came to rest on my lower back and he leaned down and kissed my cheek.

“Well, no hiding it now,” he said.

I looked up at him, my eyebrows raised. “No hiding what?”

“That you’re an angel for giving me another chance. Even our bosses know, and seem to support it on top of everything else.”

I laughed and shrugged, trying to play it off as we stopped outside the women’s locker room. “I have to get cleaned up.”

“Me too. Fifteen minutes? We’ll head back?” he asked.

I nodded and when he kissed my cheek I knew I blushed. He smirked and walked away towards the men’s locker room, a slight bounce in his step as he went.

Once in the locker room I stripped down and got into the shower quickly. I didn’t need long to get cleaned up, my routine fairly simple and I was grateful for it. It made sure I never was “that girl” making the guys wait. Plus, I was tired and more than ready to be home in my bed.

When I had my street clothes on and my hair twisted up in a bun I grabbed my bag and left the locker room. I smiled when I saw TJ there and he brightened up when he saw me.

“Ready?” I asked.

“One more thing,” he said, and from behind his back he pulled out a red rose and held it out to me. I tried to make a grumpy face but couldn’t as I took it from him.

“It’s the last one I had,” he said, smiling.

I looked from it to him and shook my head slightly as I moved to wrap my arms around his stomach, my free hand gripping the back of his t-shirt as we held each other.

“Everything okay?” He asked, clearly thrown off by my reaction. I hadn’t realized I’d been keeping count but this rose made the idea come to the surface and it slowly gripped my heart. In response, I gripped TJ as I nodded into his chest before pulling back. He took my chin in one hand and tilted my face up so that I could look him in the eye. “You sure?”

I nodded and laughed once, slightly, trying to brush off the emotions that were coursing through me. “Yeah, it’s just, in the span of a few weeks you’ve given me more flowers than I’ve received from anyone else, ever. It just kind of hit me.”

TJ frowned and wrapped his arms around me carefully, pressing his lips to my forehead. “You deserve the entire garden.”

I blushed and sighed, leaning into his strong form, his steady heartbeat under my ear. He rubbed circles on my back and, when I pulled back he looked at me, trying to read my face.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, his voice soft.

I nodded and TJ took my bag off my shoulder, slinging it over his own bag so he had one arm free which encircled my waist as we headed out to the parking lot.

The drive home was quick and mostly quiet except for comments on the other matches of the night but I couldn’t focus. My eyes were on the rose in my hands and my thoughts were on the last couple months with TJ.

Things had changed so much and, despite the bad, I couldn’t bring myself to move away from TJ. And now, seeing how hard he was trying to make me happy, to make sure I believed him, I knew as we turned down my street, that I wouldn’t be able to keep him at the same distance any longer.

As he pulled into my driveway I looked at him across the center console, unsure of what I wanted, or how to express it. TJ looked at me carefully as I slowly twirled the rose in my hand.

“Let’s get you inside and to bed, I know you’re exhausted,” TJ said.

I nodded and got out of the car as TJ grabbed my bag and followed me to the house. When my door was unlocked I stepped inside, flicked the lights on and moved beyond the door. He followed slowly, setting my bag down in the entry way.

I turned and felt my heart race as I looked at him, a soft smile on his face as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You seem a bit, unfocused…”

I nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Thinking can be dangerous,” TJ said, a smile playing on his lips.

I laughed and went into the kitchen, adding the newest rose to the collection. He smiled at me as he leaned on the counter near me, watching me clip the stem and add it to the vase.

When I turned to look at him his smile grew slightly. “I still can’t believe you kept them all.”

I shrugged. “Didn’t feel right, getting rid of them. When they fade I’ll have to but for now, they’re still good.”

TJ sighed and looked at me, his mood changing slightly as he shifted how he stood.

“Have I thanked you?” he asked.

“What for?”

“For letting me back in?”

I laughed once. “A few times, yeah.” I motioned to all the roses and he chuckled, coming closer to me.

“You’re way too good for me, you know that, right?”

I shrugged. “Doubt it.”

TJ shook his head and came over, standing mere inches from me and took my hands in his, his thumbs rubbing over my knuckles.

“I know I’m not the greatest person. And I know that roses aren’t the only thing I need to do to make things up to you. But I’ll never stop trying to make you feel like the most important thing in my life, I’ll never stop treating you like a queen because that’s how you should always be treated. I don’t want you to doubt how I feel about you, okay? Ever.”

I squeezed his hands and nodded, my voice caught in my throat. TJ, understanding I didn’t know what to say, wrapped one hand around the back of my neck and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there for a few moments. I could feel his lips move, like he wanted to say something but he never did.

When he stepped back he brushed his lips over the knuckles of the hand he still held and offered me a soft smile. “How does dinner sound? Tomorrow night?”

I smiled. “It sounds perfect.”

--

It had been perfect. And so had the next date we went on. And the next. We worked out together. Started traveling together. When we’d get home we’d even meet up and grocery shop together. When we were apart TJ kept me updated on his flight departures and safe arrivals and I would let him know that his mail was brought in and the few plants his mother had insisted he have to “brighten up the place” were watered.

Among the other superstars we were becoming a package deal, not that anyone minded. Ember insisted that it was sweet. The guys in the locker room called TJ lucky. He always responded that he knew it and would wink at me or blow me a kiss.

The weather was changing, getting warmer and closer to summer. On a weekend in June that TJ would be home we’d been invited over to Jose’s place, a belated birthday barbeque for himself. TJ and I had said we’d be there and so that’s how I found myself in my kitchen, making deviled eggs, cucumber salad and an icebox cake early on Monday morning. Jose’s favorite alcohol was in a gift bag on my kitchen table.

My phone beeped and I saw a text from TJ saying he’d just landed and needed to go home for a bit and rest.

I took a picture of all the food I had laid out on my counter and sent it to him, letting him know without taking the time to type, what I was up to.

TJ sent back a message, calling me a domestic goddess, followed by a wink face. I knew when I heard nothing else that he was already almost home and had eyes for his bed only.

He didn’t sleep long though and was at my house less than three hours later. My doorbell rang and I went to get it, smiling at TJ as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the neckline of his t-shirt.

“Hey, beautiful,” TJ said, smiling and kissing me quickly before stepping inside. I smiled and closed the door behind him and we walked into the kitchen to gather all the prepared food. TJ groaned when he saw everything I’d prepared.

“I feel like an asshole, you worked on this all day and finished before I could get here and help.”

I rolled my eyes. “TJ, you know me, I can’t do anything half way. When Jose said we could bring food you had to know this was a possibility.”

TJ laughed and walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Still, I feel like a bum for not helping.”

I smiled at him. “You can make it up to me, later” I said, my voice light.

“Yeah, how’s that?” A smirk had started to form on his lips and I found myself staring at them.

“Later, after the barbecue…” TJ’s grip tightened on me as he waited for me to finish my sentence. “You can empty my dishwasher so I don’t need to go on the step stool.”

TJ groaned and his head fell back dramatically. “Tease,” he whined

I laughed and kissed his cheek before slipping out of his grip and going into the freezer to grab the cake. TJ, grabbing the dishes on my counter and sliding the gift bag over his wrist, nodded at me, confirming he was ready.

Once the food was situated carefully we drove off to Jose’s and I was glad that he only lived fifteen minutes away from my place.

As soon as we got there the food trays were snatched by other party goers and Jose was hugging me, thanking me for putting the work in for him. I smiled as he kissed my cheek before Jose turned to TJ.

“You sure are lucky man,” he said. I rolled my eyes, the line so routine and TJ laughed, winking at me.

“Oh, believe me, I know.”

[sydneydcim-blog]

#LoveWins FTW!

Divulging into a new age of technology and social media, society has come up with several different ways to spread change and bring people together. The use of hashtags allows for people to create a digital space that is browseable and likely contains information for like-minded individuals. Likewise, hashtags are easily prone to gaining momentum and followers, which is how it obtains its power. The popular hashtag, #LoveWins, is a prime example of how social media trends and movements create communities through the distribution of hashtags. The #LoveWins movement is able to establish a community as it helps users become involved in the discussion, exemplifies and defines the LGBTQ+ community, and also offers a safe space for the counterpublic.

Hashtags are incredibly useful in the sense that it offers a, “form of identification and way-finding that help users locate where the conversation is and engage in it,” (Lee, 2015). In most instances, individuals go through or research hashtags, because the information within them peaks their interest or includes something that they can relate to. Speaking on my own behalf, I personally search through the hashtags that contains contain that falls in line with my interests. For example, just the other day I was looking through the #GameofThrones hashtag on Instagram, because I wanted to see what the public thought of the most recent episode. Going through the hashtag, it is evident that the fans have developed their own community in which they discuss their favorite scenes, theories, characters, etc. When looking at the content within a hashtag on social media platforms, individuals are able to become readily involved in a conversation of their choosing, as the hashtag makes it easier to find the information they may be looking for. Similar to hashtags used for entertainment purposes, social movement hashtags also provide a more accessible way in which individuals can get involved in the cause. It is able to work as, “an activist or individual enthusiast for an issue simply posts the words of the hashtag for others to see,” (Feldman, p. 171, 2016), and thus viewers get involved by sharing such posts, liking, retweeting, etc. For the #LoveWins movement, individuals took to all social media platforms to show their support, or even disapproval, of the motives behind the movement. The tweet below exhibits a common Twitter conversation that is created from the use of #LoveWins. By looking through the hashtags, Twitter users can chime in and add more substance to the trend.

The #LoveWins hashtag first arose after the United States government and Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage. People everywhere took to all social media platforms to express their thoughts on the matter. Supporters of the decision created the #LoveWins movement, and in the first few hours of the decision, “social analytics platform Spredfast said that 3.6 million tweets using the #lovewins hashtag—the most popular hashtag related to Friday’s announcement,” (Castillo, 2015). Adding to the tweets were a large array of celebrities, political officials, and businesses that expressed their support.

Even former President Obama himself, “who in 2012 became the first sitting president to support same-sex marriage, immediately tweeted from his @POTUS handle,” (Aslam, 2015), as the White House changed its avatar on all social media accounts to rainbow flag along the White House building to show their approval of the ruling. Taking a deeper look into #LoveWins and the LGBTQ+ community, it is evident that they are strong and prideful as they celebrate this monumental moment in history. Even after the ruling, #LoveWins is still used to this day to exhibit positive support. Another example of an outpour of love from the hashtag came after the tragic shooting of a gay nightclub in Florida as, “people [took] to social media to post their shock and write messages of support for the victims, angry that part of the killer's motive for the attack appears to have been the sexuality of his victims” (Scott, 2016). With the use of the hashtag, it allows community members to grow stronger and further define their beliefs as they are showing the whole world, or those who view the hashtag, what the community is and what it stands for.

A counterpublic is a digital space that brings together a marginalized group or, “where members of subordinated social groups invent and circulate counter discourses to formulate oppositional interpretations of their identities, interests, and needs” (Fraser 1990). The LGBTQ+ community is a perfect example of a group of people who are marginalized by the public and take to the internet as safe spaces in which they can express themselves freely. I have found that the Tumblr website itself is an ideal space in which users enter a virtual non-judgment zone. Below is a tumblr post of a young LGBTQ+ couple on Tumblr; they tagged their picture with the hashtag #LoveWins in order to apply to the queer community in a space that makes them feel safe to express their love.

It is evident that communities are often created from the start of hashtags. #LoveWins creates a community in which members of the LGBTQ+ can come together to support each other with love and acceptance.

References

Aslam, Y. (2015, June 27). #LoveWins on the Internet. Retrieved from http://www.msnbc.com/msnbc/love-wins-the-internet

Feldman, D. (2016). Social Movements for Good: How Companies and Causes Create Viral Change. Retrieved from https://books.google.com/books?id=mAVdCgAAQBAJ&pg=PA174&lpg=PA174&dq=love wins hashtag&source=bl&ots=O0vDUxypCI&sig=ACfU3U11swV-FNksWBceF8xvaxUma3hTWw&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwif-dvpsP3hAhUl1VkKHaeAAuk4RhDoATAEegQICRAB#v=onepage&q&f=false

Lee, S. (2015, March 11). Is a Hashtag a Community? Retrieved from https://medium.com/foossa-files/is-a-hashtag-a-community-6a8447c16c3f

Mailonline, F. S. (2016, June 13). Twitter reacts to Orlando shooting with #LoveWins. Retrieved from https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3637915/World-reacts-gay-nightclub-massacre-LoveWins-hashtag-went-viral-Supreme-Court-s-gay-marriage-ruling.html

Mishcastillo. (2015, June 30). Brands use social media to back same-sex marriage. Retrieved from https://www.cnbc.com/2015/06/26/brands-use-social-media-to-back-same-sex-marriage.html

Nancy Fraser: Subaltern Counterpublics. (2016, November 06). Retrieved from http://criticallegalthinking.com/2016/11/06/nancy-fraser-subaltern-counterpublics/

[autisticmoonchild]

Vouge 73 Questions Tag

1. What would be your favourite film? The Guest

2. What has been your favourite film in the past five years? Um, either The Man from U.N.C.L.E, The Guest or La La Land

3. And your favourite Hitchcock Film? The Birds

4. What book do you plan on reading? Last seen wearing by Colin Dexter, because I’m going to Oxford in a couple of weeks.

5. And a book that you read at school that positively shaped you? The Curious Incident of the Dog in the nighttime

6. What’s your favourite TV show that’s currently on? Game of Thrones

7. On a scale of one to ten, how excited are you about life right now? A strong 8

8. iPhone or Android? iPhone

9. What about Twitter or Instagram? Both

10. Who should everyone be following right now? On twitter- Pete Bucknall, on instagram- Kendall Jenner and on tumblr- my good friends @glofigs and @haslemere

11. What’s your favourite food? Southern fried chicken

12. And your least favourite food? fruit or vegtables *slap on the back of hand*

13. What do you love on your pizza? Cheese and tomato, because I’m a basic bitch

14. And your favourite drink? either hot chocolate or coca-cola

15. Favourite dessert? i dont like deserts

16. Dark chocolate or milk chocolate? milk chocolate

17. Coffee or tea? well coffee sends me to sleep, but tea keeps me awake, cant win

18. What’s the hardest part about being a writer? learning how carry on to chapter two

19. What’s your favourite band? either Haim or London Grammar

20. Favourite solo artist? Lana Del Rey or Harry Styles

21. Favourite song? Salvatore by Lana Del Rey or Kiwi by Harry Styles

22. If you could sing a duet with anyone, who would it be? I have no idea if this counts but I’d love to sing with Susie Hariet (wife of Dan Stevens) or Lana Del Rey

23. If you could master one instrument, what would it be? Piano, I learnt as a child but I’d love to learn now I’m older

24. If you had a tattoo, where would it be? On my right wrist with the words “Que Sera Sera” or a shilloutte of Slyvia Plath’s face on my forearm

25. To be or not to be? Better ask Shakespere than answer to that

26. Dogs or cats? Kitties

27. Bird-watching or whale-watching? Bird watching, because then I could get to spend time with my Dad

28. Best gift you’ve ever received? Either my encyclopedia of Kings and Queens my Dad gave me when I was 10 or my Jon Snow funko figurine my friend bought for me for my birthday

29. Best gift you’ve ever given? A plush fluffy hippo for my friend, Lucy’s birthday

30. Last gift you gave a friend? See above

31. What’s your favourite board game? either Cleudo or Pop n Hop

32. What’s your favourite country to visit? My own (England) because who doesnt love England

33. What’s the last country you visited? France

34. What country do you wish to visit? Poland or go back to the US

35. What’s your favourite colour? Black

36. Least favourite colour? Pink

37. Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds

38. Heels or flats? Heels make me taller, but they hurt my feet, and flats make my feet look clumpy

39. Pilates or yoga? Neither, I prefer cardio

40. Jogging or swimming? Jogging because I cant swim

41. Best way to de-stress? Read, write poetry, colouring 

42. If you had one superpower, what would it be? To be a human vodoo doll or teleknesis

43. What’s the weirdest word in the English language? Shenanigans

44. What’s your favourite flower? White rose or Red carnation

45. When was the last time you cried? last night, because I became really ill really fast and it freaked me out

46. Do you like your handwriting? I suppose so

47. Do you bake? No, but I’d like to

48. What is your least favourite thing about yourself? My voice or my legs (for personal reasons)

49. What is your most favourite thing about yourself? my eyes or my hands

50. Who do you miss most? my nana 

51. What are you listening to right now? lana del rey ft stevie nicks- beautiful people beautiful problems

52. Favourite smell? imperial leather soap (because it reminds me of my nana) or chanel no 5

53. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? I FaceTimed by best friend Chummy

54. Who was the last person you sent a text to? My friend, Lucy

55. A sport you wish you could play? Hockey

56. Hair colour? Brunette.

57. Eye colour? Green

58. Scary film or happy endings? Happy endings, I value what little sleep I can get thanks

59. Favourite season? Autumn

60. Three people alive or dead that you would like to have dinner with? David Bowie, Sylvia Plath and Lizzie Siddal or Dan Stevens, Eddie Redmayne and Sean Harris

61. Hugs or kisses? Both

62. Rolling Stones or the Beatles? Both

63. Where were you born? In a town called Newport on the Isle of Wight

64. What is the farthest you have been from home? Orlando, FL

65. Sweet or savoury? Savoury

66. Lipstick or lip gloss? Lipstick, but I dont wear makeup

67. What book have you read again and again? When God was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman

68. Favourite bedtime story? Um, not sure I should put it on here *blushes*

69. What would be the title of your autobiography? “Dont you wink at me”

70. Favourite sound? the laugh of my neices or Dan Stevens’ voice

71. Favourite animal? Cats 

72. Who is your girl crush? Susie Hariet or Felicity Jones or Jenna Coleman (my queen, princess and duchess)

73. Last photograph you took? Of me and my neice, Thea

I tag: @bughead-fic-request, @haslemere and @glofigs

Kisses, M.