#since I read that fucking interview my brain just whispers to myself ‘he likes dancing’ and then I start sobbing uncontrollably

[spineless-lobster]

He likes dancing guys, do you get it?! HAVERS LIKE DANCING!!! AND HE DANCES WITH THE CAPTAIN WHEN EVERYONE IS GONE!!!

HE LIKES DANCING!!!!!

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Next One’s on You 3/5

A/N: Thank you so much for reblogging, commenting, and liking! I read them all and I really appreciate it. Let me know if you want to be added to a Taglist. This is my personal favorite chapter so far. :D 

Summary: A series of moments in the life of Maxwell Lord and reader centered around drinks. 

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language 

Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @ghostwiththemostbitch @mrsparknuts @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @maxlordsgf @xjaywritesx

My Masterlist 

Chapter Two - Vodka Martinis 

Chapter Three: Orange Juice 

Our start was rocky. From the unwanted solicitation, throwing a latte in his face, the note, that horrible date with Tom, and being doused in freezing water. You really thought that things couldn’t get any more rocky. Until you met his mother. Mrs. Lord as she commanded you to call her, was a complete and total bitch. 

Coming in like a hurricane and leaving nothing but devastation in her wake. After that night you continued seeing Maxwell Lord. You’re first date he rented out an entire movie theater, and didn’t even pay attention to the movie, his face buried in your neck the whole night. Followed up by small dinners at his mansion, and late night drives in his blood red corvette, the top down, you curled up against his side after a long day at work. 

After each one of these dates his toxic mother would swoop into your work and threaten you with anything in her arsenal. How she could get you fired, lose your apartment, sue you for some insignificant thing, and each time you would kindly tell her to fuck off. But she wasn’t just going after you but Maxwell as well and her claws were deep into him. Preying on all his fears and insecurities that she had instilled in him from a young age. Whispering lies in his ear that she had you tailed and were cheating on him, just using him for his money, or worse trying to get a baby out of him so he would be paying you for eighteen plus years. 

Each time he would come to you and you would remind him something his traumatized brain forgot in those moments….how much you loved him. 

Yes, he was an egotistical, rich, asshole and that is what the world thinks of him. But you saw so much more than that. The way he would take off your sticky non-slip shoes and rub your feet after a long day at the shop, stinking of coffee grounds. How he would hold your hand and rubs circles with his thumb whenever he drove you somewhere. The way he would make love to you with such tenderness, the aftercare where he would clean you and hold you so close you could feel your heartbeats sync together. You were his deepest secret, proof to the world that Maxwell Lord had a heart. Although no one knew that. 

You sit on the couch with your ice cream watching TV. Maxwell had a charity gala this evening and you're watching the news coverage hoping to get a glimpse of him in his tux. You had given him a new pocket square for his birthday last week and he promised to wear it. You dip the spoon in and lift it up to your lips when it clatters back into the carton. You put it on the table and crawl on your knees closer to the TV. 

Maxwell Lord IV is being interviewed by a local reporter looking immaculate. Not a single strand out of place and smiling jovial as he answers the questions. But that isn’t what caught your attention...it’s the blonde woman on his arm. You recognize her instantly as a model on the cover of the magazine your roommate bought yesterday. She is gorgeous, thin, wearing a floor-length pale pink dress, and a diamond collar. Her hand rests in the crook of his elbow and he has one hand over her own. 

“Mr. Lord, is this your girlfriend?” the reporter buzzes. 

“Oh Kitty here?” he kisses the beautiful woman's cheek and she giggles, “No, she is just a good friend of mine, I don’t have time in my life for any serious relationships.” He smiles at the camera again and you notice the pocket square is a pale pink to match her dress and not the one you bought and you feel the ice cream sour in your stomach. 

You reach for the knob and turn off the television laying down on the floor looking at the small cracks in the ceiling. You recall the conversation about this gala replaying it over and over again in your head. 

“Do you want me to attend with you?” 

“No, it’s just some boring charity gala we have ten to fifteen a year. I wouldn’t want to bore you with having to endure that for an evening,” he adjusts his tie and smiles over at you laying in his bed. 

“I understand,” you nod leaning up to kiss him softly, “Are you...going with anyone?” 

“No. I haven’t been attending these things with anyone since you and I...since you and I,” his eyes soften as he sits on the edge of the bed, taking his hand in yours. “You know how much I love you darling, I just want to keep you all to myself. If I bring you to this gala the press are going to start asking questions and….I’m not ready to share you with the world yet.” 

You smile, tightening the grip on his hand, “As long as I don’t have to share you with anyone either.” 

“There is no one else, you’re it for me honey,” he pulls you in for another kiss and you sigh. 

Your heart shatters thinking of the model and how perfect she looked on his arm. She would be the perfect addition to Maxwell. The words of his mother seep into you and your self doubt begins to bloom. You shake your head and get off the floor, put the ice cream away, and go to bed. The heaviness of your heart dragging you to sleep. 

The next morning doesn’t get any better. Your usual good morning phone call with Maxwell never comes and you go to work and try to clear your mind, sure it’s nothing. When your lunch break comes and still no call or even show of him you call his work. His assistant tells you regretfully that he is in meetings all day and can’t be reached. The sick feeling in your stomach continues to grow and when you get off you decide not to wait around for him, catching a cab to his home. The whole staff knows you and greets you happily and the chef makes you a sandwich and listens to you babble about your day as she cleans up. 

The household quiets down for the night and when it hits eleven and he’s still not home you take off your clothes, put on one of his shirts and crawl into bed. Determined not to let him get away with ignoring you all day. The next morning you wake up early, having tossed and turned the whole night. But this time the bed isn’t empty. A warm arm is draped across your waist and his mouth is pressed against your head holding you close. You sigh and watch him sleep, his face free of worry as he dreams.

You carefully eject yourself from his arms and go into the kitchen starting the button on the coffee. It’s very early and the chef isn’t even here yet so you decide to make some breakfast for yourself and Maxwell. The difficult conversation may be easier over food. You get out the egg whites, onions, peppers, mushrooms, and cheese for omelets and get to work cooking. Halfway through turning on the small radio and dancing around the kitchen to some Beegees. You're almost done cooking, putting the omelets onto the plates and pulling out a carton of orange juice and pouring a glass. 

You hear a slight chuckle and whirl around to see Maxwell Lord IV in his grey sleep pants, white shirt, and wearing bright blue cookie monster slippers you had bought him as a joke since he has a secret affinity for cookies. “What are you doing honey?” he asks, gesturing to the mess. 

“I...I thought we could have breakfast together and...talk...we need to talk Maxwell.” 

He lowers his head and nods grabbing the plates and juice before setting them down at the small kitchen table. Usually he liked to eat in the grand dining room but the small eat in kitchen table was your favorite. He sits close to you and digs in groaning at the taste. “This is delicious.” 

You give a half hearted smile, taking a bite and putting down your fork, turning to him, “I saw your interview at the gala....why did you lie to me about not having a date?” 

He grimaces, “my mother surprised me,” he sighs, “I was getting dressed for the gala and she shows up with Kitty, throws your pocket square in the trash and pushes us into the limo with her. I get the feeling that Kitty didn’t have much choice as well, but we played the part. I never wanted to lie to you, I just didn’t have time to tell you.” 

“Then why ignore me all day yesterday? No call, no visit, and when I tried to call the office they said you were in meetings all day.” 

“I was in meetings all day and I am so sorry about not calling in the morning but I had to take care of something very important yesterday.” 

“What was it?” not taking no for an answer. “My mother,” he rubs a hand over his face, “I had breakfast with my mother...I told her that what she did the night before was unacceptable and that I wanted to be with you. Of course she spent the entire day arguing with me but I couldn’t give a care. And at the end of it all I told her she needed to choose. Either she accepts you and we move forward or she can forget that she has a son.” 

“Maxwell,” you beg, “why didn’t you call me? I could have gone with you, you shouldn’t have had to do that alone! What did she say?” 

“She told me if I wanted to marry that poor coffee shop bitch, then she would never speak to me again.” You're silent as you process his words. Marry…? 

He stands from the table and goes into the foyer of the house. You can hear him digging in his coat and he comes back with a tiffany blue box. He drops to one knee before you and tears sting in your eyes, rubbing at them furiously. 

“I told her goodbye and then went to pick up the ring from the jewelers, I ordered it three weeks ago,” he opens the box and you gasp at the princess cut diamond surrounded by sapphires. “I had this big proposal planned, candles, champagne, a string quartet, your favorite restaurant. But, when I woke up this morning and saw you in my shirt, dancing and cooking breakfast, I thought this was a much better time. Plus you know how impatient I am darling.” 

You let out a watery chuckle and nod in agreement. Allowing him to continue, “I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to bring you to every gala, show you off to the world, and every morning I want to wake up with you in my arms. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” you cry, “yes of course, I will marry you,” you're openly sobbing and he has tears streaming down his cheeks as he slides the ring onto your finger. Pulling you out of your chair and into his lap as he kisses you passionately. His hands running through your hair and holding you close. 

“Oh my,” the chef opens the door seeing you both on the floor in a passionate embrace and backs out. You laugh calling them back, “We’re engaged!” you shout and the chef and butler run into the room congratulating you both. Maxwell smiles at you and you beam back at him kissing him again. 

A loud knock sounds at the front door and the butler rushes out to answer. Returning a few moments later apologizing as Mrs. Lord slams open the door. “Maxwell!” she shrieks, and you groan holding on tighter to your fiancé who is rising to his feet and pushing you behind him, locking his hand within your own. 

“Mrs. Lord?” he asks, “If you want to speak with me you will need to schedule a meeting with my assistant.” You squeeze his hand in encouragement and watch as she gapes like a fish.  

“You can’t be serious?! You are seriously going to give up your mother for some cheap whore?!” 

He steps forward and growls, “She is not some cheap whore, this is my fiancé and you will never speak to her like that again. I am tired of being your punching bag, allowing your toxic words to seep into me. I will no longer allow you to control me, we are done. Now good day Mrs. Lord.” He tightens his grip. 

“Maxwell, you can’-” she stammers and is cut off when he yells raising his voice. 

“I said good-day! Get the hell out of our home, you are no longer welcome.” She tightens her grip on her Hermes handbag and straightens her Dior dress before glaring daggers at you. 

“This isn’t over,” she hisses and turns on her heel stomping out of the house. 

When the door slams shut behind her, the staff quickly leave you two alone and you hold him close in your arms. Leaning up to whisper in his ear, “I am so proud of you.” He sighs and holds you tighter, placing a kiss to your temple. “I couldn’t let her talk like that about you.  You are going to be my wife, and no one will ever disrespect you like that.” 

“You’ve really changed Maxwell, I think some of those things you said to me the first time we met,” you tease and he groans. 

“Despite our rocky start and how much of an utter asshole I was, I wouldn’t change a thing. Because it brought me to you. I love you sweetheart,” he kisses you gently. 

“I love you too. Do you...do you think she’s going to do something bad? She seemed very angry when she left.” 

“Whatever happens, we will face it together. She is a bitter old woman, what’s the worst she can do?” he holds you close to his chest and reaches down for his orange juice taking a large drink. “Let’s just focus on the next thing.” 

“What’s next?” you sigh taking the glass from him and taking a deep drink. 

“Planning the wedding of the century darling.” 

You cough loudly. Oh fuck what have you gotten yourself into now? 

Chapter 4- Champagne (check master list for link)

[justthehiddleswrites]

The Reluctants | Chapter 4 | The Reluctant Embrace

Pairing: Adam (OLLA) x OFC (Charlie Bock)

Summary:  Charlie can’t believe her luck when she lands an apartment all to herself in Quincy, Massachusetts in a decaying triple decker. But life gets more complicated when someone moves into the basement. Specifically her landlord, Adam, who also happens to be a vampire. As life collapses around Charlie, these two forge an uneasy and unlikely relationship. But is their relationship as doomed as the building they live in?

Chapter:  As Adam and Charlie enter into uncharted territory with this new arrangement, things get complicated. Charlie tries to re-establish order. It fails.

Warnings: Violence, Smut, Frottage, Dry Humping, Teasing, Coming In Pants, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex. Couch Sex. Kidnapping. Stalking. Non-Graphic Violence, Character Death

-

Adam offered Charlie a spot on the sofa which gladly she took, folding her hands in her lap.

“I can’t ask you to do this.” Adam offered.

“You’re not. I’m offering.” She squirmed under Adam’s stare. “It’s different. It’s not like I am under some thrall or something.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Stop reading books about vampires. It’s all bullshit.”

“Except for the blood and sunlight.”

“Yes.”

“So are you in? Otherwise, I need to find somewhere to move.” Charlie pressed the issue.

“Fine.” Adam huffed.

Charlie squealed, bouncing in place. Adam’s eyes focused on Charlie’s chest for a moment too long, his mind wondering if she bothered to put on a bra or not to see him. She blushed when she followed his gaze, crossing her arms.

“So… so… How would this work?” she stuttered, conscious of everything.

Adam licked his lips in hunger. “I would feed off your blood. Preferably every few days.”

Charlie gulped. “Would you need to bite me?”

“Yes.” Adam hummed, his fangs becoming more prominent. “I can show you.”

“Now?!”

“Can you think of a better time?” Adam snapped back.

“No.” Charlie fidgeted a bit before leaning her head away.

“No, not there. Give me your arm.” Adam commanded.

Charlie’s left arm shot out. Adam’s fingers slid along her hand as he turned her hand palm facing up. The callous on the index finger caught on her wrist.

“The radial and ulnar arteries run through the arm.” Adam traced two lines of each side of Charlie’s wrist. The hair on her arm stood on end. “They carry oxygenated blood to the hands.”

He lifted her wrists to his lips. Adam’s stubble rubbed against the delicate skin, leaving a red mark as he nuzzled his nose, inhaling her. Charlie didn’t seem as he expected. He expected something… well feminine. Flowers, sugar, something sweet. She instead smelled of bay rum and citrus. It made his head spin.

“I’ve already eaten today, so I won’t feed long.” Adam reassured Charlie, and she sighed in relief. “Relax.”

Charlie recognized Adam’s lips were soft and warm, she had thought they would be cold. As Adam’s fangs sunk into her wrist, she hummed.

Adam’s mouth filled with Charlie’s blood and realized he was more hungry than he let on. It had been a long time since he had a “warm meal”. And Charlie tasted delicious. He wanted to drink all of her. He pulled away. His tongue licking away an errant drop from his lip.

“And see,” he turned her wrist to face her. “the bleeding is already stopped. Here.” He rose and grabbed an old t-shirt, ripping it. Adam wrapped the strip tight around the wound. “Keep that in place for at least an hour.”

He patted on the makeshift bandage, his fingers lingered.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought.” Charlie whispered, feeling somewhat lightheaded, not sure if it was the blood loss or something else. “I will see myself out.”

Adam stood as Charlie did, his arms hanging tight at his side. He didn’t know how to quite end such an encounter.

“I’ll see you in a few days.”

Charlie nodded. “I’ll come down the interior stairs after sunset. Does that work for you?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Charlie gave a slight smile.

“Thank you.” Adam repeated back, the corners of his mouth twitched into an almost half smile.

Charlie disappeared up the stairs while Adam shut the door with a soft click. He pressed his head against the wood.

-

Charlie and Adam continued on just as they had agreed. Adam would feed on her every few days, always the wrists. And Charlie continued living upstairs. One day, Charlie stopped as Adam took his seat on the couch as he always had.

“Is there a problem?” he inquired. He had been following the arrangement to a T, despite his libido’s desire to do more.

“I need you to not feed from my wrists today.” Charlie mumbled, her hands twisting in front of her body. She plopped down beside him. She continued to fidget beside him.

“Why not?”

“Because I have a job interview at Sheffield and Wyatt and I would rather not have to explain why my wrists are bandaged.”

“Cover them up.” Adam retorted, in a flat tone. The alternative was too dangerous.

“I can’t!” Charlie’s voice broke. “It will look like I’m trying to hide something.”

“You are.”

“Please. Just this one time.” Charlie begged.

Adam contemplated his options. He could refuse to feed, but the fatigue coursed through his body. He didn’t want to be weak like that for another moment, let alone another day.

“Lie down on the couch.” Adam snapped, regretting already what he was about to do.

“What?” Charlie stiffened, wishing she had changed before coming down to meet him.

“If I am to feed from your neck, you will become weak sooner than the wrists. I can’t have you passing out in the process.”

“Okay.” She tugged her jean shorts down, doing little to cover up before lying on the sofa.

Adam tugged at his trousers for different reasons and settled behind her.

“Apologies for the tight fit. Unless you would prefer to do so in the bedroom.”

“No!” Charlie jerked her head to face him. “No. Here is fine.”

Adam pressed against the back of the couch, trying to put any space between his bare chest and Charlie’s bare arm. It wasn’t working. He leaned forward to brush her dark curls away, exposing the soft skin of her neck.

“Just breathe.” he whispered to her. Adam’s breath fanned across the skin behind her ear. Goosebumps broke out on her arms. She exhaled a shaky breath.

“So where will you feed?” Charlie’s voice wavered.

If she tilted her head slightly to the left, then their noses would bump which meant inevitably their lips would touch. And Charlie would have plausible deniability for kissing Adam. And how she wanted to kiss him. Her chest ached when she took a deep breath and inhaled that scent of sandalwood and men’s cologne.

Adam ignored Charlie squirming for the moment, her thighs rubbing together, while he traced the curve of her neck. His backside pressed as far back as he could manage without becoming part of the fabric of the sofa, his cock threatened to ruin everything.

“So the carotid artery.” His fingers danced across Charlie’s neck. Adam marveled at how perfect, how exquisite Charlie’s neck was. Not a blemish, not a freckle. A perfect canvas. And he would be the artist. “takes the oxygenated blood to the brain, neck and face.”

“Oh, I see. Will it hurt more than the wrist?” Charlie’s chest was heaving at this point and she was certain she would need a fresh pair of underwear.

“Much more.” He leaned in. Charlie smelled of bay rum and flowers. A heady combination of her shampoo and the boutique perfume she always wore. “And if you move, I might accidently rip open the artery. Can stay still while I feed or should I hold you down?”

Adam’s hair tickled her shoulder. “It might be best if you hold me down.” Adam’s eyes widened. “We don’t want to take any chances do we?”

“Of course not.” He wrapped his arm around her ribcage, pushing her into the cushions. His thumb grazed the underside of her chest. Adam wrapped his foot around her ankle, locking her in place. “Ready?”

Charlie gulped and nodded before closing her eyes and tilting her chin away from Adam. The tip of his nose moved along her cheek and his lips ghosted over the crook of her neck. She jumped when his stubble scratched along her skin. Adam pulled Charlie tight to him.

“I promise to be quick.” His voice deep in his chest.

He licked her right as his fangs sunk into her and Adam felt the soft pop of the carotid. Charlie whimpered as Adam suckled and fed. His mouth ignited every nerve in her body. She never felt more alive and aroused than lying there in Adam’s arms.

Adam realized as he fed on Charlie, inhaling the smell of bay rum and catching a whiff of her arousal, he had royally fucked up. He should have insisted on feeding her anywhere else. The crook of the elbow, the knees. Hell, the ankles. And here he was with Charlie pressed against him, his thumb threatening to inched upward to pinch her nipple and his fangs deep in her neck with his cock straining against his jeans. He recognized he was past the point of no return and all he could do was move forward and pray Charlie didn’t run.

“Are you all right?” he inquired as he pulled away. Droplets trickled from the puncture marks. Adam used the tip of his tongue to swipe them away. Charlie shuddered against him.

“Fine.” She tilted up to gaze at Adam to find him looking at her with a strange look, not the I’m-too-cool gaze he normally wore. “Are you okay?” Charlie reached out and touched his chest. His shirt, as usual, unbuttoned and hanging loose.

“No am I not.” Adam’s voice low and drawn out even more than usual.

“Do you need to feed some more? Perhaps you are still hungry.”

“Yes, I am.” He leaned forward and Charlie tilted so he could feed some more only to gasp as she felt not fangs but Adam’s soft lips against her neck. She curved into his lips.

“What are you doing?” she breathed, turning to lie flat. Adam twisted to lie on top of her.

“Making either the best or worst decision of my life.” he muttered as he covered her mouth with his.

Charlie’s hands moved to cup his face, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Adam’s nose nudged against hers, his mouth open panting. Charlie slipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting blood and mint. Adam followed. She tasted of peach lip gloss and earl grey tea. He wanted more. Adam wanted to inhale her. He could devour her right there and he knew it would not be enough.

He pulled the two of them to sitting, Charlie straddling his hips. His cock teasing the crotch of Charlie’s shorts. Adam’s hands pawed at the ridiculous cartoon tee shirt Charlie wore, squeezing her tits.

Charlie groaned and her back arched at Adam’s touch. “More.”

Adam smirked into her neck and squeezed again, only to be rewarded by not only another moan but Charlie’s hips grinding against him. Denim on denim. Delicious friction.

“Fuck.” he cursed into her mouth, desperate to taste her again. Adam’s hands traveled down Charlie’s curves to light on her hips. His fingers bruised through the material.

“Hmm.” Charlie hummed as she nipped along Adam’s neck. His mouth fell open when she licked along the curve of his own neck, mirroring the spot where he had fed just moments ago.

“Don’t stop.” Adam pleaded, at the mercy of this human, this woman. Charlie.

She bit down on him, and he groaned bucking into her. Her hands splayed across the taut muscles of Adam’s torso, caressing each angle and ripple, reveling in his beauty. Charlie continued to grind against Adam’s lap as he massaged and fondled her tits. He moaned against her mouth as he came, ruining his favorite jeans. He was still hard. His hands slipped under her shirt and snaked their way to the clasp of her bra. She pulled his hand away and stilled.

“I think I should go.”

“I think you should stay.” Adam countered, placing a kiss on her lips and moved to deepening it before Charlie turned her head away.

“I think I should go. This is supposed to be a business arrangement.”

Adam huffed. “I just came in my pants, darling. I believe our business arrangement is over.” He nuzzled against her, peppering her collarbone with kisses and love bites. She spied the large wet spot on the crotch of his pants, wondering how much was Adam and how much was her.

“No, no no!” Charlie rolled off of Adam. “This is a business arrangement, nothing more.”

Adam pulled her onto his lap. He pressed his forehead against Charlie’s. “Is that all you want? Because if that is the case, we can forget about this and go back to the way things were.”

“I didn’t say that.” she shrugged her shoulders. “You are an excellent kisser.”

“Centuries of experience. You should see what else I can do with my tongue.” He kissed her again, pecking her lips over and over, tongue teasing the inside of her top lip.

“I don’t fuck musicians.”

“And I don’t fuck zombies.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know but it is better than the alternative.”

“Which is?”

“Jerking off to lesbian porn.”

Charlie laughed and stood on wobbly legs, Adam steadied her. “I’m leaving. And if I hear any moaning down here, I am calling the cops.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

“You could just stay and you know watch it with me. Or we could do other things?” Adam ran a finger along her waistband.

“I better not but I would very much like to see you tomorrow and do this again.”

“Yes.” Adam stated.

“Goodbye Adam.” Charlie leaned down and kissed his lips. Adam got an eyeful down her shirt and spied the blue lacy bra.

“Wear that bra again and you’re on.”

“Deal.”

“Goodnight Charlie.”

Adam held onto her hand until his arm stretched no further and his fingers lost purchase with hers. He fell back against the couch as the basement door shut and he heard Charlie’s footsteps up the stairs to her own apartment.

“FUCK!” he hissed, not too loud so Charlie didn’t overhear through the thin floors. He rose from the couch and to find a clean pair of trousers and a towel to clean himself up.

-

Charlie fidgeted the entire way down the basement stairs the next night. She adjusted her top. Another one of her favorite t-shirts. It was broken in by the hundreds of washing, so much you could barely make out the Bruins logo on the front. And it was so thin, you could see the blue lacy bra through the material. A deal was a deal and Charlie intended to honor it. She knocked on the door at the foot of the stairs.

“You know you don’t have to knock.” Adam leaned against the door frame. He wore dark rust red pajamas. The pants hung loose and low around his hips and the top unbuttoned halfway. “You are the only one that uses this door.” He huffed before his lips curled into a devilish grin.

“Manners matter.” Charlie stated matter of fact, hoping she wouldn’t lose her resolve before she even got into the apartment. “May I come in?”

“I don’t plan on making out with you on the stairs, so yes.” Adam bowed to let Charlie in and for once it was her turn to roll her eyes.

“I appreciate your restraint. Now I just have—”

She was cut off by Adam’s mouth on hers. His tongue tasting and licking the inside of her mouth. He tasted that she wore that cheap cherry Chapstick. The kind that tasted nothing like cherries and everything like cough syrup and petroleum. For a moment, she melted against him, her hands reaching underneath the satin material of his shirt to splay across his stomach. And then she remembered herself.

Charlie stepped out of the embrace and into the kitchen, sitting down at the cluttered table. Adam’s brow furrowed. Not a good sign.

“Why are you carrying that?” He jabbed his finger at the legal pad and pen in Charlie’s hand, which she placed on the corner where she cleared some room. “Are you planning on taking notes?” Charlie didn’t laugh.

“Not exactly.”

She folded her hands on top of the pad. Charlie gestured for Adam to take the seat across from her. He ignored her directions to flip the chair next to her backwards to straddle it, his arms propped up on the back of the chair. Adam leaned over to ghost his lips across the nape of her neck, pushing her hair aside. Goosebumps again. His tongue darting along the curve of her neck.

“I thought you were here to have some fun?” Adam’s voice rattled in his chest, like a deep resonate note from an upright bass. The sound went straight to Charlie’s core.

“I did. But before that, if we are going to continue down the path and venture, I think some ground rules and a framework need to be agreed upon.” The words tumbled out of her mouth as a huge run-on sentence before uncapping her pen.

Adam sat back in the chair. “We already have ground rules. No fucking.” he attempted, but he knew that once Charlie set her mind to it, there was no deterring her. The incident with the speakers proved that much.

“That is a rule, not the rules.” She huffed, recapping your pen. “If you’re not willing to negotiate, then I can just leave.” She stood up, pressing against Adam in the process. Just because she wanted some rules, didn’t mean she wasn’t horny as fuck.

Adam snatched her wrist and pulled her back into the chair with a snap. She landed hard on the cushion. “Ow.” She rubbed her bottom in mock pain, as the shock hurt more than the actual injury.

“Talk.”

Charlie smiled and wiggled in the chair as she uncapped her pen again and wrote 1. No fucking in big looping cursive.

“And bottoms and underwear should remain on at all times. Just in case one or both of us loses self-control.”

“I have excellent self- control.” Adam scoffed, he was losing interest in this pointless exercise.

“Who came in their pants yesterday?”

“Who helped?” he countered. “Can we hurry this along?”

Charlie smirked, writing 2. Bottoms and underwear remain on at all times.

Adam leaned over to read. “Except your bra.” He tapped the paper.

“The bra is remaining on.”

“Bra is off. Your tits are magnificent.” Adam nuzzled against Charlie’s neck.

“I’ll compromise. Bra unclasped, straps remain on the shoulders. You will have to get creative.”

Adam nipped her neck with his teeth causing her to jump. He chuckled against Charlie. “I’m an artist, I am nothing if not creative.”

This continued several more minutes until the following rules were created:

1. No fucking.

2a. Bottoms and underwear shall remain on at all times.

2b. Bra may unclasped but straps must remain on shoulders.

3a. Adam’s hands must remain on top of the clothing mentioned in (1) at all times. No rubbing on Charlie’s genital area with hands or fingers without prior permission. Permission may not be given during the session.

3b. Charlie’s hands can go wherever the fuck she wants them to go. Rubbing of Adam’s cock is encouraged. Adam says fuck permission.

Adam leaned over and read it, “Are you really going to leave it like that?”

“You said word to word.”

“Fine.”

4. Bedrooms are strictly off limits.

“There. Sign.” Charlie slid the paper over after signing it herself. Adam huffed once.

“In order?” He stood from his perch. Charlie nodded pushing the pad off to the side. “Good.” He spun her chair around and lifted her onto the table. Adam tugged roughly at her shirt and stretched it over her head.

“Hey, I like that shirt.”

“I like that shirt on the floor.” Adam moved to bite Charlie’s lower lip, rewarding him with a whimper. “Did you have your interview today at Sheffield and Wyatt?”

“Yes. Do you want to know how it went?”

“No.” Adam growled. He used his hips to push Charlie’s legs apart, standing in between.

He cupped her face as his tongue licked the inside of her mouth. She groaned against him, scooting to the edge of the table. Charlie pushed his shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor. Her nails dug in his sides as she pulled Adam closer to her core.

Adam smiled against her mouth as his hands traveled to Charlie’s back and popped the clasp of her bra with ease. The bra loosen and Adam cupped her chest, squeezing them. Charlie’s breasts were heavy in his hands. Adam lowered his head, pushing her bra up and sucked her nipples.

“Hey!” Charlie jumped back although not moving out of Adam’s reach, her voice heavy. “That’s against the ground rules.”

“Check your paper.” Adam nuzzled himself in her cleavage. Charlie leaned back and twisted the pad to read.

“Shit.”

Adam chuckled. “You forgot about mouths. Now let’s put that self-control to the test.”

He pulled her tight against him, pulling her legs to wrap around his waist. Adam rutted against her. His hands mauled against her breasts, pinching at her nipples. Charlie moaned and whimpered as Adam crushed his lips against her already swollen lips.

Soon, her coil grew tight inside her core, she whined and gasped as her release grew closer. Adam lowered his head and sucked upon her nipples.

“Oh god!” Charlie yelled as she came, soaking through her clothes.

Adam’s head fell into the crook of Charlie’s neck as he bucked against her one more time as he reached his own release. He would have to do laundry more often at this rate. Charlie relaxed while Adam slumped against her. The two of them using each other to support their bodies. Each of them breathed heavy.

Charlie pushed her curls off her face. “So…” she clapped her hands against the table until she found her legal pad. “… I think the rules work.” She lied.

“No.” Adam growled.

“Excuse me?” Charlie blinked at Adam’s sour expression. She slid off the table. “They… they… are great.” Her voice an octave higher than usual.

“They’re bullshit. A feeble attempt to deny what this is.” Adam towered over her, backing her against the table, jostling the contents. “Denying yourself. Zombies.” Adam spat.

“Adam!” Charlie screamed. “Don’t fucking call me that!” She ducked under his arm and stormed off towards the stairs. With his unnatural speed, Adam ran to block her path.

“I’m sorry.” Adam mumbled.

“What did you say?” the tiniest hint of a smile at the corners of Charlie’s lips.

“I’m not repeating myself.”

“I will just assume you apologized and agree the rules are perfect. Goodnight, Adam.” She moved to walk up the stairs but Adam didn’t budge.

“Tomorrow?” Adam pulled her against him, her body still warm from their earlier tryst. “Unless you would prefer to stay.” He dug into her hips. Charlie bit her lip to hold back a moan.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“Since when have we ever come up with a good idea?” Adam leaned down to kiss her, but she turned away.

“Night, Adam.” Charlie stated as firmly as she could before walking up the stairs. “Tomorrow.” she called after him. Adam’s mind is already turning.

Once she made her way back into the apartment, Charlie glanced down at the legal pad, tightly gripped in her hand.

“Fuck… shit… fuck!” she moaned and cursed, flinging the legal pad across the room before heading the bathroom to clean herself up. Perhaps skirts were a better idea than jeans.

[fragiledewdrop]

High school Newspaper Shenanigans

I don't have a lot of good memories about high school, but today I found a dusty copy of what passed for a "newspaper" in my school and it brought me back to when I was 16.

The girl who had been running the school newspaper for as long as I could remember was graduating that year, so she had to prepare for the final exam and university and she did not have time to edit anymore. My friends B., C., and I, in what was probably a fit of madness, decided to try our hand at it. And so I found myself co-editor of a newspaper. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but it would be one hell of an adventure.

The paper was called "Up!", after the Disney movie, for...some very creative reason I cannot remember. The first thing we did was change the title to "Up patriots to arms!"

One of the first things we had to cover was a very important, popular, yearly student strike,which would have been fairly easy, if not for the freaking tension between the two student organizations in our city. The biggest one, the "Rete" , was basically left wing - although many people didn't know or care about their affiliations- and they constantly butted heads with the student block, a group of self proclaimed neofascists who dressed in all black, used smoke bombs during protests and were always surrounded by the police.

We decided it would be a grand idea to interview the respective leaders to get both opinions on the matter.

The president of the "Rete" came to meet us after school. The highlight of the interview was when he said that his was a "non political organization", at which point we looked at each other in disbelief and asked him:"Really?"

The answer was "Yeas, although of course many of us are registered in different parties along the whole spectrum, such as..." and he started listing all left wing parties in the country, from communists to centrists, because apparently that's what he meant by "variety". Anyway.

It was time to interview the leader of the Block. He told us to wait in a square until someone would come get us.

B. and I were getting very nervous.

A guy with a shaved head and a black leather jacket came towards us. "You the journalists? Follow me"

We followed him to the lair. I mean headquarters.

(By the way, we realized we knew this guy. He was a lamb. I had no clue what he was doing there.)

The headquarters' walls were legit covered in swastikas and pictures of Mussolini. Yikes.

The leader was also very nice. Didn't stop me wanting to throttle him when he said that poor Mussolini was just misunderstood.

I had to ACTUALLY stop B. from doing something rash. No picking fights with the fascist dudes in he fascists's lair, please.

They straight up told us, I shit you not, that they were a brotherhood and, as a very effective bonding experience, they put on music and danced in a circle while whipping each other with leather belts. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. Maybe they were, but it didn't seem so. That didn't make it into the article, but it's forever etched into my brain.

I was shaken, but the double interview turned out great. #journalism

A while later we were sitting at a school assembly in the local movie theater. Everybody was complaining about the fact that our gym's roof had collapsed the year before and nobody was doing anything about it. We were taking the bus every week to a public gym, but we had to pay for it and were Officially Not Happy About It.

It was then that B. went : "You know what would be great? If we could interview the mayor about this"

I lit up. "Oh my god! We could ask him so many things! And not just about our school, but about the Linguistic High school that had to be evacuated and about [all the other schools that were literally falling to pieces. You know, Italian things]"

But the consensus was that, while we could try, it would be almost impossible for us to get an interview. So we sighed and sat back.

C.cleared her throat. "Guys." "Yes?" "You know how the mayor is a lawyer?" ".... Yes?" "Well, my dad is a lawyer. He knows him."

We dragged her to the bathroom

"We are not leaving here until your dad gets us an appointment" (poor guy)

He did

For that same night. At the town hall. At 8 pm.

We cleared our afternoon to come up with pertinent questions and practice and freak out.

At 8 we were at the town hall.

There was a red banner on the balcony with a slogan on it, that would be there for months afterwards, because...

... that same night a group of workers had occupied the town hall to demand better pay and better working conditions

Good for them

Bad for us

We were about to leave, but they assured us the mayor would be with us shortly

We waited three whole hours

During which, obviously, an old council member came to talk to us about how, if we wanted to do some real journalism, we should investigate the presence of the Illuminati in our town

Not gonna lie, we were kinda interested at that point

Around 11, the mayor called us in

I am going to concede that he must have been tired

But he was still a slimy son of a bitch

Extremely condescending

When we brought up our problems, he told us our schools were the Province's responsibility

(the Province would of course later tell us we were the Mayor's responsibility)

It was a train wreck

But eye opening

The article we wrote was extremely passive aggressive

He told C.'s father that he really liked it

I don't know if he was impermeable to sarcasm or just a politician.

Fast forward a few months. While our math teacher was talking, a giant piece of plaster fell from the ceiling, missed her by millimeters and crashed on the floor. We went on, business as usual, but that was kinda scary. And it was not the first incident of that kind to happen in our school.

We decided to do a reportage

Armed with notebooks and a camera, we went from classroom to classroom, asking students and teachers about problems with the building.

It was like opening a can of worms.

We got everything from "Oh yes, don't you see those huge holes in the ceiling and in the floor?" to "Yes, every time it rains the classroom gets flooded" to "See this giant wooden piece of tent rod? It fell on my shoulder last week. We don’t even have tents!"

Everyone had something to complain about. The teachers. The janitors. It was scary, to be honest. Especially considering we were repeatedly told ours was the safest school structure in town (what with having been standing since the end of WWI and all)

One day, while we were trying to get on the roof to evaluate its conditions, the headmistress called us in her office.

She said that she had gotten wind of what we were doing (duh)

And she hoped that we wouldn't give a bad impression of her "to parents and important people"

Because after all her hands were tied

It was the responsibility of the Mayor and the Province

(Just who the fuck was responsible for us?)

She smiled sweetly, leaned in towards us and whispered "You'll be careful now, won't you?"

She looked at me and said my name

Hoping I'd be the responsible/most easily intimidated one

(I had beef with that woman, mmmkay? But that's a story for another day)

I smiled and I told her: "Of course. We are just taking pictures of what we see. We'll let the truth speak for itself"

We did

No commentary

Just very objective descriptions and pictures

We really felt like heroes of the free press and free speech, at the service of the people despite the threat of power. (Yes, it sounds dramatic. It's because we were teenagers)

And then there were the other, less momentous adventures:

That one time when, after days of editing, we had to fill a little blank space at the bottom of the last page and nothing fit. We were frantically searching through our notes, the articles other students had sent us, drawings, everything, and we were slowly losing hope, until B. unearthed one of my notebooks and said : "What is this? 'Requiem. In memoriam termosifoni malati, ego ista verba pronuntio..." I was horrified. "NO" I yelled. "That's just a joke. We are NOT publishing that. NO WAY!" It was really a silly thing, you see. There was a radiator in our classroom that didn't work very well. Sometimes it was scorching hot, sometimes (on the coldest days, obviously) it was icy. So my friend E. and I had decided that the radiator was "sick", and we wrote its last will, its epitaph, parodies of famous poems like "La fontana malata" (The sick fountain) by Palazzeschi or "All'amica risanata" (To the healed friend) by Foscolo (can't find translations, sorry). It was fun. B.had found my silly attempt to write a "Requiem" in...kinda dog Latin I guess? But the grammar was correct. In any case, IT WAS NOT MEANT TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. But we were desperate, so I relented. On one condition: it had to be ANONYMOUS. And that was the best decision I ever made in my entire life, because when we distributed the newspaper I saw a bunch of Latin teachers analising the fucking thing in front of their classes. "Mmmmhhh I am not sure an accusative was the best choice here. I would have gone with a dative." Then write your own pastiche poem, Marta! One of them had even copied it on the blackboard and was trying to figure out the metric! That was the equivalent of a 3am shitpost, not fucking Catullus, people! I have never been so embarrassed in my life! At least my friends were having a field day with it. Oh, and my Latin and Greek teacher figured it out. She read it and told me : "This was you, wasn't it?" I wanted to disappear. But she said it was funny, and that was the end of it.

All the times we had to edit what other students gave us and it was WILD, you guys. The grammar alone...The choice of topics....We got quite a few articles about UFO sightings over our town, so that was a thing. (We got to see a lot of really interesting and creative stuff, though)

The times we absolutely lost our cool, because it was hard work, okay? "Federica, your Isabel Allende analysis is a bit too long. Maybe if we cut the Scheherazade comparison..." "YOU ARE NOT CUTTING THE SCHEHERAZADE COMPARISON, B." "But.." "That is the backbone of the whole thing. The structure would collapse without it." "It's only a metaphor!" "No! I won't sell myself and my principles for a chance to be published" "Guys! CALM DOWN! It's just...essentially a book report." "SHUT UP C."[........] "I think we need to eat something" "Yeah. Should I make pancakes? With chocolate chips or without, B.? "

The time we got stuck at school because it was snowing, and C. wrote a beautiful piece called "The agonizing mesmerism of snow", and our friend P.,who was a wizard with a pencil, made an earie and amazing drawing for it that almost made me cry. Coincidentally, it was the day pope Ratzinger resigned. We thought it was a joke while still at school, then later on agreed that it was the reason it had been snowing in the first place. None of us wanted to write about the pope, so we asked the guy who was always sending us articles about the occult and arcane symbols hidden in churches. It turned out great.

The time a bunch of our more "troublesome" classmates started making hilarious dirty jokes based on Catullus' double entendres and B. promised them we would publish them (anonymously) if they wrote them down. They did, and the result was a page titled "Surrealism" full of the dirtiest "poetic" stuff in existence that made everybody laugh themselves unconscious, with the exception of some teachers who somehow didn't get the jokes.

The time we interviewed our student representative (a classmate of ours), whom B. had always thought was too full of himself and needed to be brought down a notch. So we "accidentally" misspelled his name in the article. Nobody noticed except him. He was fuming and it was glorious (not my proudest moment, but what can you do)

The time another brilliant classmate wrote a piece called "The pathologic mysoginist" that absolutely enraged some of the guys in our school. I stan her to this day.

That time I wrote a long article for Woman's day about the abuse and mistreatment of women in our country and across the world. I thought it was nothing special, really, but then Maria the janitor (the sweetest lady in existence) stopped me in the corridor and teared up a bit and said that she hadn't known about a lot of the things I had discussed, but she thought it was important to talk about them and that she felt represented as a woman and that she wanted to bring the paper home to read it to her husband. It touched me so deeply I still get emotional when I think about it.

Anyway, all of this and more happened in one year. Then we, too, had to worry about university admissions and exams and we passed the burden on to "aliens and occult" guy (who was amazing too)

But I remember the passion we poured into it, the willingness to take risks, the feeling of defying authority for the "greater good". We were idealists, all of us, and so full of hope and a will to change things in every way we could. Maybe a high school newspaper means nothing in the great scheme of things, but it meant something to us. It made us brave when we didn't think we were. It made us defiant. I wonder if that part of me is still sleeping, somewhere deep inside.

[jujywrites]

WIP Challenge

I got tagged by @kikithedeceiver to do this!

Challenge: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Here’s the thing. I don’t have many separate WIP files; most of them are in one huge doc. and most of the separate wip files are... pretty dead? but ok whatevs. under a read more since it’s long...... and my ego won’t let me skip snippets hjkhkhk thanks for the idea Kiki

From my main miscellaneous folder:

50 Grades of Steele. 1 and a half chaps of a role-flipped 50 Shades of Grey rewrite (i haven’t read the books so I extra don’t care about the characters lol). why do i still have it i’ve lost interest.... *side eyes her entire wip ecosystem* ...Then I see my interview subject, seated at her desk.

"Mr. Grey. I'm pleased to meet you."

And I stop breathing. [end CH1]

[open CH2) I forgot to mention something: I exaggerate occasionally. But I'm not now. I literally stop breathing for a few seconds. A thousand thoughts are racing through my mind, which doesn't help my chest stop seizing, but the main problem here is that Anastasia Steele is quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Fanfic idea masterlist. my most active file and where I keep most of my WIPS, unless they get too “large”. Organized by fandom. lotta stuff i keep passing by & may as well be dead but don’t wanna delete. here’s a zero-draft snippet of probably the next chapter of my G-rated yukyoru fic collection

He grabbed a pillow and placed it to his chest, grabbed her arm, and yanked her to him, praying his idea would work.

Seconds passed and he didn't transform. He put his arms around her gingerly. Should he try to immobilize her or would that make it worse?

She made the decision for him. "Mom," she sobbed, clutching him with an iron grip. "N-Need to help...!"

His stomach dropped to his shoes.

Thudding footsteps announced Yuki's arrival. "What's wrong?! Honda-san--"

He didn't say "What did you do?" The thought raced by and Kyo said, "Grab a pillow and help me!"

As Yuki positioned the pillow and himself without having to ask, Kyo said, "She won't wake up. I don't know what to do!"

"Night terror," Yuki said tightly. He was too close but it almost didn't matter. "Not much you can do besides wait."

MayxWard BDSM fic agents of SHIELD. mix of notes and actual writing. kind of a half AU. Melinda climbed into the driver's side and buckled in, then started up the car. "If you've not ridden on the left before you might have motion sickness. It's normal. Just close your eyes until—" She paused as she looked at him; his hands shook so much he couldn't manage the seatbelt. "Here, let me."

"Thanks," he muttered with a sigh, looking rueful.

Modern AU Zelink. What it says on the tin~ Teenage-ish Zelink, with a mash of supporting characters from other games. another mix of notes and fic. Link wasn't sleeping tonight. Tonight was the night he'd been planning for and awaiting for weeks. He was going on a quest: the quest to meet Princess Zelda. 

She wasn't really a princess, of course. That was just her nickname. Zelda Nohansen was Hyrule's sweetheart, the most sought-after young actress in the movie business. And Link had fallen in love with her the first time he'd seen her, two years ago in a tiny theater in Kakariko.

PMMMfic homumado. Madoka Magica. AU, been around since about an hour after I finished the series (5 years yikes, still gotta watch Rebellion). Homura's time power still somewhat involved, but Mami's an adult, everyone's at a boarding school (I think?) where ~things aren't as they first seem~ and Madoka has mysterious powers and night terrors. just notes at the moment.

SoubixHitomi.  Loveless. 3 unfinished/dead first-person Shinonome-senseixSoubi snippets, all of ‘em spicy.

yvy abo. Yuri On Ice. Yuri (Katsuki!!)/Victor/Yuko(!!?!), my attempt at. well. omegaverse(!!!!!!!). orignally started as part of a “bad YOI fic” bigbang and now I’m taking it seriously dgdgfg. Alpha Yuko. “Please, please stop,” she whispered, like saying it aloud would make any difference. But the pressure in her head kept building. Her limbs had begun to itch restlessly.

And Victor wouldn’t let go of her hand.

With the last scrap of her control, she straddled him quickly and kissed him awake.

Even in half-sleep he arched to meet her, and when he opened his eyes sapphire blue had already turned stormy with lust.

yvy canonfuturefic. Yuko-focused following of canon, or: how canon can I keep YOI while still rareship OT3ing it. She and Yuri fall in and out of love, in between falling for Victor. Victuri is still my life I swear   

“You have got to watch this,” she tells Yuri. She watches Yuri’s face instead of the video, having seen it at least forty times by now.

Yuri’s eyes transform into beacons of awe, and Yuko swallows around her rapid heartbeat, breaths coming too short. She sees everything she’s feeling and more on his face. She remembers that she loves him, that he’s real and here and more important than the beautiful boy on her phone who’s trying to pull her under to a scary new world.

ZnT ot3 bdsm AU. Zankyou no Terror, 9/12/Lisa. mix of notes and fic, not just PWP. in heavy need of editing bc a lot was inspired by a non-spicy book.

“But it’s not just me. It’s everyone. You need everyone because you have no idea how to need yourself. Or even how to be yourself.”

“You’re wrong.” The force and volume of her voice shocked her and pushed her onward. “You and Touji. I don’t need anyone except you and Touji! Because you both taught me how to be myself-- no, how to find that on my own. I know exactly who I am, and that me isn’t complete without both of you!” She could feel the tears streaming down her face, yet somehow her voice didn’t waver. She felt so full of conviction she could burst into flames. “Don’t you understand, Arata? We’re all meant to be together.”

From my SnK folder:

Cave of the Crystal Maiden (working title). Aruani. Modern AU. MMORPG shenanigans with a dollop of magical realism/supernatural. Just notes. @portraitofa-girl suggested “meeting online” and it’s been there literally for years oh lord im sorry. no fic yet, just notes.

Falling Anthem (working title) Modern AU Levihan, art student Hange and young professor Levi. just notes. fic one in a planned series. also has been years ;_;

Raindrops and Soft Steps. Jearmin. unsurprisingly, modern AU. One morning, when Jean looks out of his bedroom window, he sees a boy dancing across the street. In the street, to be exact. There wouldn't be anything unusual about that, Jean supposes, except it's raining cats and dogs outside.

In my IAMXfic folder (fff i almost skipped this):

2ndPOVCalberto (DO NOT CORRUPT WITH HET) ChrisxAlberto? not much to say?? yes i know they’re real people??? which applies to everything after this oh my god *crawls under desk* Of course she knows; she is annoyingly perceptive when it comes to romance. The only thing preventing you from asking her (like a fucking lovestruck teenager) if Alberto likes you back is emptying that beer bottle. By then the only thing on your mind is ordering another.

CalbertImmi. i can’t even keep my poly shit outta RPF ahaha omhg Imogen has a conversation with her lover's lover. (AlbertImmi, sequel to...) Imogen finds herself in an unenviable position. (emerging CalbertImmi)

Alternate summaries (CC POV, first fic?): Chris loves two people. He doesn't want to choose. Chris has fallen in love a few times in his life. But he's never fallen for two people at once. (Chris also isn't good at choosing.)

ChrisxJ. several self-insert fics bc CC is just that powerful, apparently. haven’t looked at the file in a long time,,,,,

He started calling people to the stage with him, and one by one, my row emptied.

"Come on, yeah, come on," he was saying, waving his hand in an inviting gesture and grinning like a little kid. "Hey, you want to?" I did a double take.

"Me?" I mouthed, pointing at myself just to be sure. He nodded, smiling wider.

So it was that I walked unsteadily down the ramp and waited in line, feeling like I didn’t belong there. Soon I was next in line. What would I say? What would I do? I was sure if I opened my mouth I’d either burst into tears or faint.

Genderswapped IAMX sci-fi. The sci-fi was inspired by a word prompt, genderswapping by my own brain. (play spot the Immi lmao) Across the aisle, Sam rolled his eyes. “Leave Chris alone; she’s nervous.”

“And put on your own seatbelt, Johann,” shouted Jess, two seats back and in Sam’s aisle.

Patrick turned  to look at Chris. “Subspace travel is a bitch,” he said simply, and turned back to his book.

“Oh, I feel much less nervous now,” Chris said with a sardonic grin. “How do you know that, anyway?”

"I'm not exactly what I seem to be." He didn’t look up.

Chriimmi (While I Was Gone inspired). Chris/Imogen, inspired by scenes from Sue Miller’s While I Was Gone.

"You really ought not to do that, you know," he said softly.

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me."

My eyes slid from his face. "I didn't mean to. It just... happened."

"Mm." I glanced back at him; he wore a lopsided smile. "Not that I minded." The tension was so strong the air nearly vibrated with it, yet I held my tongue, terrified that I was the only one feeling it. He took a breath, deep, nearly rising on his toes. "No. I didn't mind at all." He took my hand, circled his thumb over the back. My breath caught as I felt it, as I watched him looking down at our hands.

Chriimmi bathtub dream. dream inspired Chris/Immi smut.

Chriimmi twitter. twitfic plus some, inspired from an actual tweet iamx made that i’m still not over. 

@ imogenheap Come sing your lovely lyrics with us in London. @ IAMX misses you. CCx

ChrisxImmi main. grab bag of Chriimmi I was too lazy to put into separate docs.

“What do you think?” She grinned, twirling.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, I-Imogen, what are you wearing?”

“Well, I didn’t want to clash with your theme…  Janine helped me. Does it work?”

Scandalously short skirt, midriff-baring top, knee-high boots.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? You’re trying to fucking kill me.”

Her grin only widened, even though a blush had started.

Fic edit chriimmi ver. yeah. editing someone else’s original fic to be chrimmi. either never posting or editing the frick out of. ~_~

He kissed her neck, whispered into it, “I love you.”

Imogen laughed. “Bollocks,” she said lazily.

”I do!” Chris protested. She looked down at him, nestled on her shoulder. He looked back, open, a little adoring. “I fell in love with you halfway through the show; I sang every note just for you.”

”Oh, please. You couldn’t have seen me.”

”No,” he said. “But I knew you were out there… I knew it had been you the minute I saw you backstage.”

Hospital Chriimmi. In which my guilty feeling over RPF are even worse bc of the inspiration ^_^U “Ms. Heap. What a pleasant surprise.” It’s surprising, how well she remembers his voice.

“Mr. Corner, what have you got yourself into?”

“Oh, just a bit of lingering insomnia. You know how it is.”

She takes a seat in the chair near his bed, crossing her legs. “Well, I’ve certainly had a sleepless night here and there, but I’ve never ended up in hospital from it. So no, I don’t suppose I do know.” Her tone is light, but her smile has begun to crack.

ImmixChris genderbend smut. the my secret friend video is... fertile material. have not actually written the smut yet.

...he saw us as characters– we put on those clothes and become separate from ourselves, removed. Whereas I simply felt like myself in men’s clothes, and instead of feeling what He felt for Her, I just kept right on feeling what I felt for Chris, amplified to a distracting level.

ReluctantdommeImmixSubCC. ...shrug emoji? notes and uh. visualizing.

Vampire Chriimmi. based on a dream. smutty. inspired by True Blood so wow that’s old.

From my Markipairings folder:

demon dream. markiplier self insert...... ughhhhhhhh o///o

"You can have me," I tell the creature. "But this one," I jerk my head toward Mark, "comes with me. He's mine, you see." A bold proclamation to make, but in the moment I know that the truth in those words surpasses everything I've ever said. He is mine, and saying the thought out loud fills me with courage. He squeezes my hand, two short and a long one so strong I think he might break it.

I know we’ll win.

DommeJujY. same as above, same as the next four. smutty.

Fight team AU. i forget where i got this one from. vaguely inspired by loveless i guess.  The first clear thought I had was, He shouldn't have gone ahead of me. The second one was, I should have been able to protect him. But these came later, after the rage went away, after I hugged him and apologized, after I bandaged him…

Gaming meetcute. i win some contest or whatever to secretly tagteam w/ Mark. stuff happens and yeah......

The adrenaline surges through my veins as I take in the scene. Mark's avatar is flailing around, backed into a corner by some Eldritch Abomination and holy shit, the graphics in this game are amazing.

"This is not good, I can't move, I can't move…"

There's a voice in the back of my head screaming to shut the game down, to get that horrible thing off the screen. I ignore it.

Markinpanties. .......smut.

shifter-slight sci-fi AU. shrug emoji.

I looked up from the ground and saw I was heading straight for a brick wall. There was no time to slow down. I braced for impact...

It didn't happen. I opened my eyes and found myself in a café.

What.

Looking behind me, I saw a door. On impulse I walked over and opened it; the tree-lined street I could see through the glass was indeed there. No brick wall to smack my face into. Bewildered, I turned around and looked for a seat, choosing one near a window.

Gouldiplier~. master doc of ficbits of my cracky mccrackship, MarkiplierxEllie Goulding.

I check my phone during break time again. My selfie has been liked and retweeted thousands of times, and I shake my head in disbelief; I don't think that will ever stop surprising me, deep down. To make things even better, Mark's liked it! I'm in the middle of a happy jig when I realize there's a text from him and a squeak of joy slips from me.

hellooo gorgeous

looks like you're having fun. Hope the shoot's going great! <3

I quickly send a reply. it has been. Be glad when it's done tho. Missin u lots xo

Markipicbunnies. fanart of Mark for Gouldiplier insipration. photographer au. 

"Ms. Goulding, I'm really not sure about this…"

"I produce pictures that are intimate because I'm an intimate being, Mark." Ellie looked at him directly, a hint of a smile shaping her lips. "Deep down, I think you are too. We just need to draw you out a bit."

showersexgouldiplier. WELP. IT’S SMUT.

Also I have folders for my 2010/11 nanowrimo novel that are kinda still WIPs but also kinda not

i’m gonna tag.... @kippielovesyou @kiridork and @mistergrass and anyone else who wants to do this can too :3

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Nobody’s Perfect: Part 3

Pairings: David Harbour x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, unplanned pregnancy, mention of miscarriage (past)

Word Count: 2,256

A/N: This story was an idea that came to me from an interview David did. The quote was “…I’m better at the fantasy of relationships than I am at the daily real life, but I’m trying to steer myself into a realist…” And this is the story I came up with. I obviously don’t know David therefore I’m using my first amendment right, here…. & since David reads fan fics… if you ever see this, love… well, I’m sorry….

Part 1 / Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stared off into space down the terminal David’s flight was arriving from full of fear and uncertainty. Your old doctor’s voice flowed through your brain, suffocating your senses with a past you wished with everything you had that you could forget. It was one of the lowest points in your life and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking it was to be your fate once more.

“Earth to (Y/N). You copy?” You shook your head, snapping yourself from your memories and smiled up at David’s worried face.

“Sorry sweetheart. Just thinking. Happy Valentine’s day.” He nodded as he cupped your jaw in his hand and gave you a chaste kiss.

“Happy Valentines day, baby. Penny for your thoughts?” Your stomach turned and you shook your head.

“Not right now.” With a curious glance, he gave you a partial nod and followed you out of the airport toward your car. Your mind repeatedly tried to convince you that he would leave when you told him; that a relationship three months in was entirely too soon to have the miracle child that came to be through two different forms of birth control. And the terror of miscarrying again was snuffing out any other light you had. A baby was supposed to be a joyous situation but all you had was fear.

“Babe!” David grabbed your arm and yanked you back toward him seconds before you walked in front of a car that wasn’t paying attention in its rush to leave the airport parking lot. Your boyfriend searched your eyes and opened his mouth to yell at you for not paying attention. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop your bottom lip from trembling as you stared into his blue eyes.

“I’m pregnant.” You whispered as tears began their slow track down your cheeks. His eyes went wide and he quickly pulled you into his arms with an unbelieving shake of his head.

“Oh, fuck… shh, honey, it’s OK.” He soothed as he rubbed your back with shaky hands. He hiked his duffle up on his shoulder and pulled you back a step. “Where’s your car, (Y/N).” You looked around as you swiped at the tears on your cheeks and pointed toward the row you car was parked in. With a nod, he took your hand, checked for cars and lead you in that direction. He took your keys from your hand when you pulled them out of your purse. His head swam with thoughts as he put you in the passenger seat, tossed his bag in the trunk and got into the drivers seat beside you.

“I’m sorry I have to ask but… is it… it’s mine, right?” You nodded as you grabbed a stack of napkins from your glove compartment.

“Yea, it’s yours.” He nodded as he took a deep breath and scrubbed his hand down his face. You tucked your feet up on the chair and slipped your hands over your stomach. “I’m scared.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” You glanced over at him as he leaned his head against the back of the seat and pinched the bridge of his nose. You bit your lip and shook your head.

“I understand if you don’t wanna stay.” His head shot off the headrest. He reached out, gently grabbed your arm and pulled your hand over to his lap.

“I would never, never just leave you because of this, (Y/N).” He laced his fingers with yours and pulled your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “It’s just… fuck it’s a fucking bomb.” You nodded and bit your lip.

“I have to tell you something.” He nodded as you looked down at your stomach. “I had a miscarriage about six years ago. 10 weeks along. My body just rejected the pregnancy.” You felt his hand grip yours tightly and tears rolled down your cheeks. “I just… I don’t know what to do.” You looked over at him and shook your head. “Tell me what to do, David.”

“I can’t. Baby, I can’t tell you what to do.” He reached down between his legs to move the drivers seat back as far as it would go. He gently reached for you, pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you. “We’ll figure this out, baby girl. We’ll figure it out together, OK?” You nodded against his shoulder and buried your tears stained face in his neck.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want…”

“I know, sweetheart.” He said softly as he rested his cheek on your forehead. He stared off into the distance through the windshield and nodded slowly. “I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every single day for the first three months was spent in fear. Fear that David would leave you or make you get rid of the baby. Fear that you would lose your second child the same way you did your first. Fear of what his family and the media would think when they found out. But surprisingly, nothing bad happened and your fear slowly dwindled each and every day you got closer to your second trimester.

Your boyfriend went out of his way to call you every second he had a chance; four, five even six times a day to check in on his girl. After the initial shock wore off, he was ecstatic despite his own similar fears. He arranged his filming with his show ‘Stranger Things’ around your first doctors appointments. He went out of his way to hire a moving company to help your mother move to North Carolina so you wouldn’t have to put his child in any sort of risk. He even borrowed a few parenting books from his brother, Scott who had two kids of his own.

Both of your fears nearly disappeared by the second trimester and morphed into preparing for the arrival of your son. You chose to stay with your mom instead of bouncing around from Atlanta to New York to Chicago with David’s filming schedule. He finally got a small break in filming mid-July the day ‘Stranger Things’ came out on Netflix and he came down to Hendersonville, North Carolina on the red-eye to watch with you.

“I’m digging you in the uniform and cuffs, ‘Chief’.” You teased as you sat on your bed between his legs. “I think you may need to bring that shit home with you.”

“You would like that.” You giggled and nodded as his palms danced across your baby bump, gently pressing in on your child with each pass to get a kick back. You both glanced over as his phone chimed for the hundredth time that day with someone else congratulating him on the hit show the two of you had been binge watching all day. With a small smile, he poked back at his son, who kicked at his hands to protest not getting attention.

“Got him spoiled already.” You said with a smile as you looked back at the TV. He chuckled against your back and kissed the top of your head.

“Anything for my little boy and my favorite girl in the world.” You smiled to yourself as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You jumped slightly at a jump scare and gripped David’s leg a little tighter. His eyes stayed glued to the TV, just as lost in the show as you were as he moved his chin down to your shoulder. “You’re alright, baby girl.” He said softly as he pulled you tighter to his chest. You nodded as you watched Joyce, Hopper and Will in the Upside Down.

“So sad.” You whispered. David nodded against your shoulder as his hands tightened ever so slightly on your stomach. You rubbed his leg reassuringly as the two of you watched the end of the episode in silence. As the credits rolled, you picked up the remote to start the next episode only to see a ‘More like ‘Stranger Things’ option.

“What?! It can’t be over!” David chuckled and kissed your shoulder blade.

“That’s it.”

“But what happened to El! What’s with the worm thing? When is Jonathan going to admit he loves Nancy.” You looked over your shoulder with a fake scowl. “And when are you and Joyce hooking up? Jesus, baby. I need more!” He laughed, whole heartedly and shrugged.

“Don’t know. Guess you have to wait and see.” You scowled and scooted forward so you could go get something to drink before bed.

“You know I’m stealing your script when you get it.”

“The hell you are. You’ll get me fired.” He leaned forward and pushed on your ass to help you too your feet.

“I would do nothing of the sort… I’d just read it like really, really fast.” You paused in the doorway of your room and looked back over your shoulder at him. “You have them already, don’t you?” He shrugged and grabbed his cell phone to feign disinterest.

“Already read ‘em, too.” You growled at him as a smirk pulled at the corners of his lips.

“I don’t like you right now.” Your son kicked in your stomach and you turned partially and pointed at your bump. “And neither does he because he knows you’re being mean to his mommy.” Your boyfriend laughed as he looked up from his phone.

“Well I’m not spoiling it because I know you well enough to know that if I spoil it and let you read the scripts, you’re just gunna bug me when we watch it because I spoiled it. Which is why I don’t tell you what happens in movies I’ve seen that you haven’t.” You scowled and headed back to the kitchen.

“You’re gunna learn, baby boy, that daddy is no fun.” You heard him call out ‘I heard that’ as you said hi to your mom.

“Show’s done?” You nodded as you paused at the end of the couch and stretched your back.

“It’s really, really good.” Your mom looked up from her book with a smirk.

“Is it? Or are you just saying that because your baby daddy is in it?” You laughed as you continued on to the kitchen in the two bedroom, two bathroom ‘cabin in the woods’ she always wanted.

“Please, don’t ever call him my baby daddy ever again. You are not a teenager, you’re an old lady.”

“Who can say whatever the hell she damn well pleases about the father of her grandson.” You leaned against the counter and sipped your water with a shake of your head.

“You’re incorrigible.” She giggled and nodded as you refilled your glass of water and headed back to your bedroom.

“Sleep well, sweetheart.” You smiled and kissed her forehead on the way past. She leaned forward and kissed your stomach. “You too, in there. Give your mama a break tonight, OK?” You giggled as you rubbed at your stomach.

“Yea right. He’s been kicking up a storm since David got here.” Your mom smirked as she picked up her book.

“He knows who baby daddy is.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you headed back down your hallway.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, mother.” David cocked his eyebrow at you as you walked into the room with a laugh.

“What’s she doing now?” You set your cup down on the bedside table and headed over to his suitcase to steal one of his shirts for bed.

“She’s now most likely going to be referring to you as my baby daddy for a while.” He hummed as he got up off your bed and came over to you.

“How about fiancée?” You looked over at him as he reached past you to grab a box from his bag. There was the slightest tremor in his hands as he pulled open the top to reveal a gorgeous, flower shaped, white gold engagement ring. You gasped and looked up at him as he gently sunk down onto one knee. “Sweetheart, I have fallen head over heels in love with you and I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Will you marry me?” You nodded frantically as tears spilled from your eyes.

“Of course.” You heard your mom cheer from the living room as he stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist. He kissed you passionately as you cupped his scruff covered cheeks with your hands. He pulled back with a smile and tears in his own eyes so he could put the ring on your favorite.

“Your son agrees with it, too.” You joked as you took a hold of his hand and set it on your stomach. He smiled at the steady thumps.

“He knows we’re meant to be a family.” Your smile threatened to break your cheeks as you pulled him down to kiss you again. “I love you.” You nodded against his lips as you kissed the tip pf his nose.

“I love you, too, David.” He kissed you once more before heading over to grab his phone and his cigarettes.

“Come on, let’s go call my mom and show your mom. She’s been bugging me all day to see the ring.” You cocked your eyebrow at him as he showed you the shirt he was giving you permission to steal and tossed it on the bed. “Well I had to ask someone for your hand.”

“You’re too cute, baby.” He smiled and nodded as he turned you around and pushed you gently toward the door.

“I know I am and you love it.”

Part 4

[agent-aurelie]

Sixteen days to go, and I’m falling apart.

Regular disclosure:  I’m not looking for pity or sympathy or “hang in there!” comments, because frankly, I’m exhausted by the phrase “hang in there.”

I’m depressed.   Not in the cute “I’m just really sad I might not have a job anymore!” way, but in the highly invasive questioning by a therapist, “let’s talk about drugs that could change or ruin your life!”, lonely, self-destructive, “added-to-a-watch-list”, diagnosed kind of way.  I have been, officially, since 2014.  I manage.  My family and I are still in the never-ending process of learning how to deal with it.  I don’t talk about it much until some hurtle comes up that might be minor for a normal person, but catastrophic for someone like me.

But I manage.

The good days are good.  The bad days are terrifying.

At my worst, my therapist in my last home urged my family to move me somewhere where the weather and proximity to other friends and family could change my life.  I left New England a little over two years ago for central Florida, and lied about my home address on an application for the Most Magical Place on Earth to secure an audition slot.

You see, my last job was the most demeaning, degrading work environment I’d ever experienced.  I worked in a cubicle farm making a lot of money for other people and writing technical courses far beyond what most my age would be writing.  But I was a “millennial” who my older executives didn’t know how to manage or encourage or respect.  I was passed up for promotions, belittled, teased and taunted by 40 year old men.  I was lost in the shuffle and feeling increasingly more worthless as the weeks went on.

When I gave my two weeks and told them offhandedly about my ambitions, they laughed at me.  The HR Manager thought I was lying and wished me a sarcastic “good luck” when I signed my separation paperwork.

The thought of going back to work in entertainment was a dream come true, and something that I doubted I’d ever be able to accomplish.  I was terrified, but for the first time in my life, I was afraid for all of the right reasons - because I cared about this dream more than anything - and the fear, instead of crippling me, was actually egging me on.

Twenty-six hours in a car later, we arrive in our new home in Orlando.  We packed my audition clothing in the car because after a shower, I went straight to the world famous argyle-print Casting building, shaking like a leaf.  A deep breath and I walked into the domed-and-pillared entryway.  Near-hyperventilating, I checked myself in for the audition.  

My casting agent was a saint.  We smiled and laughed together.  I have always interviewed well, and with two generations of other magic makers in my family, this was literally the work I was born to do.  In what I learned later would be an atypical bit of Casting interview, he slid two spiels across the table for me and asked me to read.

He leaned back in his chair and pulled back one of the spiels and nodded in assent.

“You’re off to the World Famous Jungle-- wait a minute.” 

Wait a minute?  Why are we waiting a minute?

He tapped on his computer and shook his head, “I could send you to Adventureland or...  No, no I think this is the better home for you.” 

I cried with relief when he offered his hand across the table and shook it.  This.  Was.  My.  Dream.  And it was done.  My casting agent invited me to use the restroom to take care of the contact I’d managed to cry out of my eye.  I signed my contract outside the ladies room at the Casting building, which was equal parts mortifying and hilarious.

And just like that, I’d been assigned to my new home in Hollywoodland, all but living in the Chinese theater and giving Spectacular Journeys Into The Movies.

Two and a half years and over two thousand tours later, I earned a character role.  I learned how to shoot old, temperamental guns.  I learned about pyrotechnics and set show scenes on fire.  I inhaled more stage smoke than any human probably ever should inhale on top of a 20′ platform with no real fall guards.  I worked sixteen hour days and took ten shows at a stretch.  I injured every part of my body in this line of work and exacerbated an old ballet injury to the point where I almost got benched and recast.  I lied about my recovery.  I was promoted to coordinator (building supervisor) and earned the right to be a trainer for new performers.

And in sixteen days it all goes away. 

And if you think I didn’t just choke typing that sentence, you are so wrong.

“But at least you have jobs!” everyone keeps assuring us.  We’re a Cast of about sixty.  We’re being displaced around the resort, but no one can seem to tell us where and it feels a lot like we’re throwing darts at a dartboard to find a new home.  We’re heartbroken... I’ve not cried this much in a long time.  After twenty-eight years, the last remaining pillar of MGM Studios will be rethemed and reimagined.  

I’m upset because this is the job that changed my life.  This job, in so many wonderful ways, saved my life.  It gave me an opportunity to be someone else when being myself was too hard.

I always get so weird when people say, “I admire you.  You chased your dream and made it.”  The sleepless nights and anxiety attacks about “making it”, the insane hours my husband and I worked to make this move a reality and the huge amount of money I’ve lost on this dream, the budgeting, the sacrificing of holidays to bring other people joy, the actual physical pain and oftentimes demeaning behavior we endure in 100+ degree weather from Guests sometimes doesn’t feel like a dream come true.  But then there’s the autistic boy who doesn’t love anything the way he loves our show, he only speaks to us and speaks to us like family.  There are the impromptu potluck meals when we can’t eat with our own families.  Key Lime Pie deliveries fresh from the Florida Keys from a seasonal CM who drives to LBV every weekend to work and who loves us like his own family.  There are the dance parties on set pieces and stories about malfunctioning costumes and “oh shit is my body pack still on?” moments wondering how many Guests heard us making terrible impressions backstage over an onstage mic.  The animatronic malfunctions.  There are rehearsal shows where we replace our real guns with water guns and spray unsuspecting Tour Guides.  The fruitcake hidden somewhere in a ceiling tile and the cockroach who has more seniority than anyone in the building.  There are ghost stories.  There’s the sorely out of tune piano behind the curtain and the sleeping mats behind set pieces.  The signed walls and handprints we left on a structure that was the inspiration for a theme park. The show requests from friends and family members who suck in their breath when they see you enter a scene on one of the most coveted stages on earth and the whispered, “I didn’t know you could do that.” 

Fuck, I’m crying again.

They’re closing our building.  They’re closing our building forever.

“You're so lucky to be on a closing team.  It’s such an honor.” 

I’d do anything to keep that building open for another 100 years. 

There will be other roles.  I’ll find a new home and I’m tenacious and resilient enough to shine somewhere else.  But this is hurting me more than anything has hurt me in a long time.

It feels like I’ve just lost a dear friend, and my depressed brain and broken heart can’t handle this loss.

Sixteen Days.

[grizzlefur]

WWEm - Too Much Shit For One Man to Kick

In which Emma’s heart grows three sizes.

Broadcast date: Monday 4/Tuesday 5 September 2017

Now that I've torn myself away from the combination of Destiny 2 and trying to fix my phone, it's time for MONDAY AFTERNOON RAW!: The Nacreous Gem Around The Intrusive Sand Of Roman Reigns Trying To Cut A Promo

trialling a new slogan

daniel's uncle's idea

apparently owning the building means you can give production advice

price of free offices, i guess

anyway, i'm like 70% sure he doesn't read these, so i can say whatever

but yes, the actual show

the bright orange blur in this tumbnail suggests we may be hearing from one mr cena

straight in on a recap video of the contract signing from last week

only presumably without cena kicking a hole in the fourth wall like the fucking shockmaster

also they've edited it to remove roman forgetting how to english

some damn good promos, though

i'm just loving all the shots of kurt in the background gawking like oh god what have i wrought

oh, apparently this is labour day

you'll pardon me for not exactly giving a shit

and we're in omaha

and here's the cena himself

here to cene all over us

oh, apparently we're just kicking straight into a match

and booker's back

i never thought i'd be glad to hear that slurred bullshit

and here comes jason jordan and his dodgy synth music

here to fight cena for unspecified reasons

oh, so we can play the clip of cena debuting against kurt 15 years ago

back when he was ruthlessly aggressive

who doesn't love cross-generational parallels

omaha is super behind cena, possibly for his music containing actual instruments and vocal tracks recorded at the same time

jason goes straight into the amateur mat game, which is not exactly cena's forte

lots of lingering hugs

i think booker just managed to get jason and cena mixed up, but let's be real, i wasn't listening

my mind just levels out everything booker says into a kind of mealy blur

but hey, that's better than the unignorable shittiness of the jerry

(my favourite kundera book)

cena gets a comeback phase, including whipping jason so hard he also faceplanted himself into the mat

that seems poorly thought out

tries to deploy his five moves, jason manages to counter out my backflipping out of a suplex and dropkicking him

fuck you, cruiserweight division

jason takes a five knuckle shuffle, then counters an aa into an indescribably weird rollup

takes an stf for ages, then reverses into a crossface/chinlock thing

cena says fuck you, i'm john cena, stands up out of it and goes for another aa

jj counters out into a beautiful rolling double nothern lights suplex

straps come down, jj unleashes his true power level

and immediately eats an aa for the pin

way to disprove roman's argument that cena buries young talent

oh hye, speaking of

-slips into pre-emptive coma-

and  he's got a mic

fantastic

roman's like why the fuck did that take you 20 minutes that guy's been on the show for like a month

roman really needs to work out what point he's making

so yeah, argument today is that cena's not as great as he thinks he is

and is a lion

fake-ass little bitch

"Roman, I'd say I'm happy to see you, but...I'm disgusted by your whole face."

cena is all out of shits to give

like stop trying to use your brain, it's not your thing

cena immediately addresses roman's inconsistent point

and that his fly is open

which roman turns into lol cos i'm the big dog

ew

men

and cena counters with a balls joke, and roman with a gay joke

fuck's sake, guys

there's a bar, at least make a cursory effort to get over it

cena takes it to roman for having everything handed to him, like damn dude i fucking hate the miz but at least he works for his shots

this is all true

cena's mostly just exasperated

like damn dude, get a clue

so roman's like hey if you want to beat me up let's do that

roman, stop being smug

or just, yknow, go away

cena does not beat him up, so roman's like hey fuck you dude and walks off

that worked, i guess

but later, we apparently have braun/show in a cage

so we can play the gif of those two crushing the ring

also later jeff hardy has an ic title match

but now, enjoy this advert for total bellas

or don't, very much up to you

but now, here come the not-shield

entering to dean's intro

they're gonna be on announce for slater and rhyno vs the kkb

seth and dean should totally rebrand as the sword

god, i love that they've managed to get a dragon ball reference into their entrance

dean's like welp, that's a great entrance,can't take that away from them

confirmation that we've got their title rematch at no mercy

dean goes off on a tangent about jurassic park and getting your face eaten by velociraptors

seth starts giggling

send for the man

corey asks if seth and dean are getting on as a team, dean's like eh, i've had five years to punch this guy in the face, i'm kind of over it by now

back in the ring, heath slater is getting the fuck kicked out of him

but then, that's what he does

inevitable hot tag so rhyno can get some offence in

and then eat a brogue for the pin

dean starts talking smack on the bar, then he's like well we're the bar now hey we should steal their name

dean talks like he fights

cesaro and sheamus do their fusion dance in the ring, and i'm like 90% sure their fusion would be goro from mortal kombat

although more the plasticine fantasticine version from the film, tbh

that's science right there

toasty

cut back to the announce team, where seth and dean have evaporated

and they talk to book about the hurricane

briefly

but now, renee interviews the hardyz

matt breaks in with a semi-broken accent

crowd goes mental

and jeff's like yuuuup gonna win this or get myself killed with the FIRE THAT BURNS WITHIN ME

man can preach

so that's next, i think?

after this ad for randy/shinsuke on smackdown

insert comment about what competition means

and here comes the match

starting with the hardyz

jeff's wearing a connor's cure tabard over all his other clothes, and seriously, i think the man has a problem

it also makes it very hard for him to rock out to their music

cole makes a reference to them wanting to delete paediatric cancer

well played

and enter the miztourage

maryse has a new vest/pvc leggings/sparkly knee boots combo, and as ever, i want it

also perilously close to real human clothes

apparently it's just over 10 years since jeff had the ic belt

bell rings, jeff goes straight for a rollup because fuck wrestling

miz cowers against the ropes like please mr hardy don't beat me

and uses it to throw jeff out to his cronies

a scheme

who would have thought

back in the ring, jeff just punches the hell out of miz's oh-so-punchable face

whisper in the wind for a nearfall

it's taken this long for jeff to jump off something, he must be taking it seriously

sets up for a swanton, bo distracts the ref so curtis can pull jeff off the turnbuckle

sparks a brawl outside the ring, ref is just like fuck this noise all three of you can fuck off

matt is deeply offended like how could you do this to me i was defending my brother's honour

miz counters out of jeff's crotch leg drop, which is good to see, because it is such a trivially easy move to counter

this match is actually p good

it's been like 60% reversals

maryse is still at ringside, which can't possibly be foreshadowing anything

ooh, she's gone with acid-green nails as well

maryse is just my style icon

(as if you didn't know)

miz pulls jeff off the apron, then collapses against the barricade in fornt of a small child in a cena shirt who's like um what

miz gets a figure four one, jeff just goes to counter by punching miz in the face

makes sense when you think about it

eventually gets to the ropes

then hits miz with a stunner, nearfall when miz gets the rope

live by the rope break...

miz crawls out of the ring while the ref shouts at jeff, then immediately eats a baseball slide

and then poetry in motion off the steps

kind of feeling sorry for miz atm

he's bumping like a demon

maryse pulls her husband out fo the way of a swanton, leaving jeff to fuck himself upon the mat

goes for a twist of fate, miz counters into a finale for the pin

damn good match, solid finish

but now, women do things

or so i am assuming by this recap package of banks/bliss

oh yeahb, and nia's inevitable betrayal

announcement: sasha has her rematch at no mercy

and now nia accosts kurt backstage

she's not impressed that she doesn't get a title shot

and emma interrupts to talk about her twitter analytics

she also wants a title shot

nia's just like fuck off or i will actually break you

kurt holds them apart, and hatches a plan

nia/emma v sasha/alexa tonight

if the undercarders win, he'll make the title match a four-way

foreboding shot of the cage, insistent mentions of the ring being reinforced

and have some more recap videos of brig showman fucking the ring

never noticed how hard the ref bumps to the outside when it happens

caught it now, of course, because they've replayed the clip from SEVEN HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN FUCKING ANGLES

but now it's time for cruiserweights to not get an intro

dar, nese and gulak already in the ring

and cedric and gran metalik get to enter with enzo, because seriously, nobody's getting a fucking intro

except enzo, who's brought a mic as usual

enzo tries to spin cheating to win matches as some kind of god-given right because it gets you wins

babyface?

despreately hypes 205 like please watch my show

he introduces cedric and metalik in the shittiest way possible

i spoke too soon, his smacktalk introductions for the other three are even worse

match kicks off with cedric/tony doing the cruiserweightiest wrestling ever

and enzo tags himself in to ruin everything

drew tags in to kick a non-trivial amount of shit out of enzo

not all of it, of course

the man contains too much shit for one man to kick

the heel team start doing rolling tags to take turns fucking up enzo's shit

and then they all just cruiserweight over everything and i can no longer narrate

stereo topes from cedric and metalik, during which enzo tags himself in because he's a twat

and then sticks a thumb in drew's eye to get his stupidly-named finish for the pin

the alleged faces celebrate as drew's outside with his friends like aaaaaaaaaaa i am blind

end segment

and now alexa collars sasha in the locker room to bitch about their opponents tonight

alexa has a cancer shirt too because she's a face by default tonight

this conversation quickly turns into a huge row

that match'll go well

up next, finn bálor wears a shirt

boo

and an advert for the myc, which continues to be great

and here comes everyone's favourite irish possible serial killer

-does the arms-

goes 'this is bálor club' like he's introducing his new talk show

waxes lyrical on his previous titles and how bray wyatt's a dick

finn has chosen his fate

or possibly faith?

this just in, he has an irish accent

calls bray out, immediate wyatt cut

and now we're in the void with bray

talking about learning to hunt as a kid

and the day he decided to stop using a bow and just kill things with his bare hands

i think we could have all filled in that backstory, tbh

taunts finn for only being able to beat him using the demon as his weapon, rather than doing it with his own power and will

and obliquely challenges him for no mercy

finn starts shouting back at him, which is a rarity for these segments

bray calls finn a rabbit, wyatt cut, end thing

so yeah, bray v human!finn for no mercy, presumably

oh hey, more ads for smackdown and total bellas

and now it's women's tag time

cole claims total bellas stars alexa bliss, corey's like um dude that's just a lie

she is here though

this much is true

oh my god i had forgotten how fucking angry i was about emma's new music

although that said, i think it's changed again

it's still not as good as her proper music, but better than last week

cfo$ are clearly going through a weird phase atm

corey is critiquing emma's hashtag efficiency

someone had to

the basic theme if this match thus far is 'tagging yourself in for giggles'

my inner bitch is loving the reluctant passive-aggressive teamwork in this match

(also my outer bitch)

(aka me)

as the smaller woman in the team, emma is performing her proper function of getting fucked on relentlessly

this rule does not apply to alexa, because her rage gives her virtual height

she's like one of those tiny dogs that will FUCKING HAVE YOU

emma finally gets a tag to nia, alexa gets a chance to vent at her

and get creamed

eats a big-ass samoan drop, sasha breaks up the pin after a moment of internal conflict

gets the tag, shining wizard for a nearfall

emma blind tags, nia leg drops sasha, emma gets the pin

i'll be honest, i was not expecting that

four-way should be good, though

emma celebrates extravagantly in the middle of the ring, nia's like um

and samoan drops her

nia will also fucking have you

back to the ambiguous backstage room, where renee has acquired a braun

asks what he's thinking before his first cage match

he's like really what the fuck was kurt thinking, this match might hurt me before my title match at no mercy but will definitely hurt company property

the man does a surprisingly good promo

but up next, seth and dean are back

their walk backstage is briefly interrupted  by elias thrashing out a new song

long beat as they just kind of stand there like what's up with this guy, then shrug and carry on, dean playing along on the air

but next, they fight the good brothers

after these ads for every show we make

back from ads, sheamus and cesaro are in the ring arguing with gallows and anderson for some reason

who am i kidding, you don't need a reason to bitch on those guys

seth and dean still using dean's intro

like, if you're going to just use one, seth's is way better

BURRRRRN IT DOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWN

ref eventually manages to usher the kkb out of the ring, match can commence

sheamus and cesaro seem to have settled on just sarcastically applauding from ringside

someone needs to get them popcorn

this match is a little formulaic, but damn do i love how in sync seth and dean still are as a team

seth/dean v jordan/gable v gargano/ciampa v dawson/wilder

give them a whole show, best tag match possible

as opposed to this particular long-ass superplex setup that didn't even work

dean counters a chokeslam into a dropkick, which is p cool

seth gets the hot tag, commences to jump off every goddamn rope before braun and show fuck them up

dean tries to join in, does a shitty suicide dive

seth hits a lovely top-rope frankensteiner on anderson, the kkb try to interfere, seth gets the pin anyway because they're just that good

and then the good brothers take sheamus and cesaro out while they're distracted

they take a long moment to consider their options, then go back to the ring to fuck up anderson and gallows

and now here's the connor's cure video basically the same as last year, because history and cancer haven't changed much

and they've got the wwe makeup department in to give kids superstar redesigns

that's kind of sweet

and steph giving them all hype ring announcements is cute

dammit, i've fallen for a cute ill kids advert

and they brought alexa, miz, and finn

which seems like a super weird collection

to inspire these kids with cancer, we've brought our resident bitch, a self-important asshole, and a guy who draws power from being possessed by a demon

perfect sense

but up next, main event time

but first, cruiserweight recap vt?

because now we see enzo and his mates in the locker room being annoying

cue sarcastic clapping from neville

and news that those three have all qualified for a five-way elimination match for a title shot at no mercy

neville sows dissesnsion with a few ominous geordie words

closeups of techs reinforcing the ring

and now charly interviews the ref from the ring explosion match, of all people

oh, apparently the ring's double reinforced

not just reinforced

fancy

he's like welp this match is gonna be carnage i'm just going to focus on dodging

and now renee gives big show a hype chat

gah, i'd forgotten his new hairlessness

come on show, give us a YOUUUUU DID THISSSSS TOOO MEEEEEEEEEE

Shockingly, Giant Baby Show says Braun ain’t shit

the dramatic climax of the promo is just show telling us his own nickname

you know how i said braun could promo surprisingly well?

well...not that

seriously guys, how many ads do we need for total bellas?

it's back

we know

ad for 205, in which we learn that the other two slots in the 5-way are kendrick and nese, for no adequately established reason

wait, has anyone seen kurt and show at the same time?

feels like we might have a dr angle and mr show thing going on

corey just referred to braun as "the steam-breathing monster"

um

i have no clue what to say to that

is he coal-powered?

bell rings, braun kicks show in the face

ha

and starts bodychecking him into the cage

weirdly, it goes wrong on the fourth one

show counters with a magic fist, doesn't climb the cage for some reason, cut to ads

cut back and nothing at all has happened

ecept show is now taking his turn to throw his opponent into the cage walls

show starts climbing, braun follows

weird scale going on, since they can both stand on the top rope and touch the top of the cage

show gets crotched really hard

guys, stop doing that spot

it is not good for you

show sets up on the top rope, everyone goes wtf

and does an elbow drop for the first time in like two decades

doesn't connect properly, but still a good moment

goes for the pin, braun kicks out at two because fuck you i'm braun strowman

show crawls for the door, braun walks over, grabs it, and hits show in the face with it

then braun tries to walk over show to get the door himself, and show does eexactly the same thing back to him

see, that was just dumb

braun kind of wanders into a chokeslam, then counters into a ddt for a nearfall

few spots later, show manages to land the chokeslam, braun kicks out because see the above re: fuck you

show goes for a magic fist, braun counters into a powerslam, show counters out and throws braun into the wall

show goes for the climb, followed by braun

gets his chest over the top before braun drags him back down because NOT FINISHED WITH YOU

i have never seen big show on the top rope this much before

braun gets a superplex in, the double reinforcement does its job

still a hell of a crash

and running powerslam for the pin

okay, i'm not usually one for large man punch fights, but that was actually really good

braun looms ominously over his fallen foe, then somehow acquires a mic

calls out brock to see big show's corpse as an object lesson

long ominous beat, then tells big show it's time to go to pasture, picks him up, and powerslams him through one wall of the cage

crowd goes wild

next time they should maybe think about also double reinforcing the cage

show lies on the broken cage wall going aaaa i'm dying, braun stalks off and roars, end show

in all senses

right, well, i've got some bad news

the horizontal line's off in Marbella this week, so we're gonna have to roll straight on

-checks the list of test slogans again-

MONDAY AFTERNOON SMACKDOWN!: Takes Hotter Than Your Dad.

i swear, the things i do so we can have somewhere to record this show that's only occasionally filled with vengeful woodland animals

so yes, the raccoon incident aside, let's watch mackdown

or indeed smackdown

mackdown is the wrestling dating sim i am now going to have to make

opening on a weirdly-saturated recap package of the orton/nakamura situation

the worst holmes story

and yes, the best thing about smackdown today

i'd had it spoiled, but still

JBL IS FUCKING GONE

he's off to do charity work, so we get the double whammy of disadvantaged kids getting support and me not having to listen to his voice

and they've replaced him with corey, making pretty much the ideal announce panel

Tom: "Did you miss me, Graves?" Corey: "Yes!" Tom: "I...am surprised!"

i live for these two talking shit

so yes, orton/nakamura tonight for a title shot at hiac

and here's randy, standing in three-quarter profile in a dimly lit corridor

yknow, like people do

and giving a speech about how he' gonna fuck shinsuke up

cut to shinsuke shadow boxing in the locker room

tells us about how he's gonna fuck randy up, i mostly get distracted by his left shoulder, which i hadn't noticed before

it's kind of fucked

i'm guessing that's a dislocation that healed weird

cut to the ring, and ellsworth announces his bae

only to be interrupted by...kevin?

he's decided he's going to be guest referee for carmella's match with nattie

begins trying to intimidate the ref into taking his shirt off

here's shane

who may have opinions on this fuckery

takes a moment for a cheap pop before getting into professional mode

he's just like kevin

dude

sort your shit out

long tense faceoff

shane's like maybe take responsibility for all these failures which are in all ways your fault

kevin's like fuck you i don't even want to be on this show

shane's like well yeah, cos this isn't the bullshit show where we just give people belts

kevin calls shane out on him needlessly inserting himself into eveything on the show

mentions his dad, gets an ooooooh, mentions his kids, shane immediately gets in his face like fuck you

kevin spins the helicopter crash into this, says his family would all be better off if he'd died there

mentions his kids again, shane explodes on him

well, he did warn him

trips getting out of the ring, killing the moment a bit

throws kevin over the announce table and just absolutely goes to town on him

security pull them apart, bryan turns up to be like the fuck are you doing dude that's an employee

and give the most disapproving dad look you've ever seen

and...cut to an ad for total bellas

way to maintain the mood, guys

and recaps of what happened thirty seconds ago

in which they've edited out shane tripping

ha

backstage, kevin staggers through the room supported by three officials

bryan comes out to apologise

kevin promises to sue shane, wwe, and the entire mcmahon family

bryan's like wow, that seems wildly disproportionate

kevin's like fine, i'll go press assault charges insteads

cut back to announce, corey and byron are both like well he totally deserved that

but yes, now we actually have that carmella/nattie match

recap from last week reminds me precisely how fucking awful carmella's singlet was

thankfully, she's back to normal gear today

provided you count bright orange leggings with leopard-print piping as normal

announce team start spinning next week's 'Sin City Smackdown'

carmella gets her face punched off, retreats to her ellsworth

pan out to naomi watching the match with a look of deep concentration as carmella does a long-ass guillotine choke

nattie powerslams her out, gets a comeback

carmella superkicks nattie, gets a nearfall, ellsworth gives the ref the briefcase

carmella's like wtf no i'm not cashing in give my that back, throws it at ellsworth, and gets rolled up for the pin

ellsworth comes back into the ring to apologise profusely

carmella starts being all magnanimous, then opens up on him

including using the same line twice

calls him a 'genetic defect'

and asks how he's still employed at wwe

really, the question we were all asking

"You are a charity case, and your mother should have given you away at birth!"

wow

harsh

and officially dumps him

takes her case, struts off

leaving james in the ring and the depths of despair

backstage, here's shane looking conflicted

up next, dolph ziggler re-debuts

i have no clue how this is going to go

expect everything

after these ads for the myc and no mercy

and tom giving us a talk about paediatric cancer

roll the video again

refer to my comments above

well, that gave me plenty of time to curate my itunes library

fringe benefits

and here's the dolph

looking...exactly the same

he's got a mic

presumably to tell the fans to go fuck themselves

yup

railing at the fans for not appreciating the greatest performer in the company

and they'd prefer some dumb gimmick

lights go back down, and here he is again

doing cena's entrance

all credit to the crowd for the DOLPH ZIGGLER SUUUUUUUCKS singalong

dolph's like hey, did that not work? i'll try another

lights go down again, and now he's...who had land of hope and glory?

-research break-

yeah, thought it was him

dude, if you're gonna do a macho man entrance, you could at least have the shades

gives up on it, shouts at the crows for not doing the usual nostalgia pop

sends his valet away

and now he promises to have exactly what the crowd want and deserve

and...now he's naomi

the fuck is this

does the knee slide, then gives up

all gimmicks are defeated by ennui

and now he's back to railing against the idea of gimmicks, because anyone can do them

says he, after clearly showing that not everyone can dance like naomi

tells the fans they make him sick, stomps off backstage

so that happened?

up next, sami zayn v aiden english

because this is 2014 nxt, apparently

aiden gets about one line into his aria before sami's music interrupts him

oh yeah, this is the rematch from last week when kevin fucked on everything

and aiden gets a rollup out of nowhere

that lasted about 90 seconds

the bookers have some sort of problem with sami

and aiden's got his mic back

so he can give us some more singing

swiftly tailing off as sami chases him out of the room

let's have yet another recap of shane brutalising an employee

pan out to bryan rewatching it

only to get interrupted by the new day

here to lift his spirits

oh, and here are the usos

to do the opposite

announcing the stipulation for next week

street fight

which seems ill-advised when you're fighting a team of three

bryan gets a call, ushers the new day out

someone bryan calls 'sir' (so vince) wants him to do something in the ring

i know what, because i have a dreadful habit of going on twitter and getting spoilers, but i'll maintain the mystery for now

bryan disagrees, is shut down

and he's going to do............IT right now

(couldn't resist)

and here he is in the arena

gets in the ring, calls shane to come too

he doesn't

finally, here he comes

with nary a HERE COME THE MONEYYYYYYY

not sure i've ever seen either of these this sombre

bryan's like remember last year when the miz was pushing me every week and i made the bold choice to NOT FUCKING ATTACK HIM?

bottom line, you can't assault our employees

fair policy

shane's like yeah sorry but when people talk about my family i go crazy

bryan's just i don't give a single shit you've endangered this entire show because we both know kevin's a vindictive bastard who'll take us for everything

shane offers to go and reconcile with kevin

bryan's like no, i talked to your dad, you're suspended indefinitely

and leaves

shane's left in the ring like welp

why would you leave him there if he was suspended?

eh, wrestling logic

many crowd chants later, shane slumps off

gets a lot of thank you chants for a man who's just been suspended for attacking an employee

and now renee is in the blue curtain room to interview jinder

in an ugly-ass houndstooth suit

asks which guy he'd rather fight, he doesn't give a shit

claims he represents asia better than shinsuke ever could, despite shinsuke actually being from fucking asia

does the promo again in punjabi to speak to 3% of the great nation of india

back in the arena, aj's on announce

to talk about paediatric cancer

(i feel like i'll be writing that phrase a lot in the next few weeks)

and here's baron

sidebar fact: "Won the Money In The Bank ladder match earlier this year"

guys, maybe stop reminding people of that

recap vt of styles/dillinger last week

and of baron being a tool

i feel like i might need to specify that more

and here's tye

and they haven't synced his music with his new tron, so the sexy number voice says 10 when the video's on about 6

kind of love the KO'S A BITCH sign in the crowd

works on many levels

baron slides out of the ring to face off with aj, so tye just jumps out and fucks him up against the barricade

solid advice: maybe keep an eye on the other guy in the match

cut to ads, come back to a really slick spot of baron lariating tye's head off

tye tries to set up for the tye breaker, is thwarted by his opponent being large and heavy

and baron continues to stop having the match he's actually having so he can shout at aj

and i love the complete lack of shit aj gives

baron scores a cheap shot to tye's throat, angering aj, and end of days for the pin

actually a pretty good match

you forget that tye's got a lot of skill in the ring

aj is shocked at baron's lack of honour

because he doesn't watch the show, i guess

up next, "a special look at bobby roode"

ok, whoever edited it to go directly from saying that to a total bellas advert needs firing

backstage, aj congratulates tye on his fight and says next week, the us open challenge will only be open to him

dude

that's not an open challenge

that's just a challenge

and now for a bobby roode video package

enhanced by corey being on this show now so he can run hype for him

and now we're backstage with ellsworth pleading for carmella to forgive him

and being like yes i'm subhuman and i don't deserve anything please take me back

this is not healthy

carmella says from now on, they're doing things her way

gives him a huge kiss, then slaps his face off

flounces off, leaving ellsworth to be like the actual fuck is my life

but now we have a main event

here comes the very finest in flailing japanese men

and adverts for all our other shows

and also a fucking snaaaaaaake

loving the contrast of entrances

incredibly theatrical alien dance vs walking slowly down the ramp

cut over to jinder and the singhs in his skybox

tom mispronounces kinshasa even before the bell rings

this is why we got corey on here

whoever you are trying to get your MAGA sign to constantly show up on hardcam, kindly fuck off

randy does a massive hotshot, aided by shinsuke being an extremely floppy man when he wants to be

randy goes for his draping ddt out to the floor, shinsuke reverse out because that would be dangerous as fuck if he hit it

throws shinsuke into the announce desk, corey's like this is the worst first day ever

shinsuke just decides to get a comeback spot like oh hey maybe i should just kick him in the face a bunch

superplex to shinsuke, and the setup only took a small percentage of my life this time

lovely spot as shinsuke's reeling on his knees then just leans back into doing his cmoooooooon

goes for a kinshasa, randy counters into a snap powerslam

into a draping ddt, because you know randy's spots

strikes up the snake, which is still weird when your whole thing is hitting it out of nowhere

goes for an rko, shinsuke counters into an armbar then transitions to a triangle

that was fucking lovely

randy powers out, shinsuke counters an rko into a backstabber

see, this is how you preserve finishers

and kinshasa for the pin

oh, sorry corey

KINSHAAAAAASSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAA

(totally why corey's here)

well thank fuck for that, i'm not sure i could have taken another orton/mahal rematch without taking up amateur tattooing or something

backstage, bryan tells kevin they're done

kevin's like fuck that, imma run the show next week

and bryan drops the bomb that vince'll be there next week to sort shit out

great

ah well

and brief cut back to shinsuke partying so we have something to end on

and thus we finish the week's shows

by which i do of course mean last week's shows

one day i'll actually get my shit together and be punctuahahahahaaaa sorry i couldn't get through that

[Don’t forget to follow Emma on Twitter, where she’s @Waruce]