#keep it set in the 90s or bump it to the 2000s

[pezboisworld]

💄👄💄Clueless💄👄💄

Soundtrack as a Lesbian Teen Comedy

Silk Chiffon by Muna

Bad Friend by

Rina Sawayama

Head Over Heals by The Go Go's

Two Weeks Ago by

Maisie Peters

Loose Garment by Muna

Blondes by Peach PRC

Fruity by Chloe Moriondo

[amberjazmyn]

kian egan one-shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - the butterfly effect

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - none

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - the story of how astoria and kian egan met each other and then ended up falling in love and marrying each other.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - i have already written this before and decided to rewrite it with it set in the late '90s and early 2000s since that is when westlife were really popular and getting married and engaged and stuff. flashbacks are in italics and the lyrics are in bold italics. just as an fyi, i am having astoria be the songwriter and performer of sophie holohan's original song, butterfly effect (demo) because it just makes more sense even though this song is a relatively new one irl. and even tho insta wasn't a thing until like 2010 when it first launched, i'm still going to include insta posts of the wedding and things.  

masterlist

- - - 

the wing of a butterfly brushed my cheek, stopped me from starting to cross the street.

astoria was on her morning walk through her hometown of sligo, ireland. when on her way home, the wing of a monarch butterfly brushed against her cheek. completely stopping her from the beginning of her crossing the street in front of her. she had just been getting coffee after an hour or two flight back from london before she needed to rush off into her dublin recording studio for her band, venus' new album. but, the butterfly brushing her cheek completely distracted her.

so you bumped right into me, actualisation of a theory maybe, baby, then you said sorry, i said the same. 

startled by the butterfly, astoria and a cute boy just bumped right on into one another. stepping back in shock and hoping that the person she bumped into wouldn't be mad. she apologised. yet, it turned out, the boy was thinking the exact same thing, and seemed to also be very apologetic for the incident.

"sorry!" they both said at the same time as the actualisation of what just happened hit the both of them

"i should have watched where i was going i..."

spilled my coffee, "oh, what a shame", said you'd buy one in exchange for my number and name. 

"...oh, what a shame, i am again, so sorry for spilling my coffee on you!" astoria was flustered as she tried to fix her clumsy and fatigued mistake as the boy ended it all - and not in that way!

"don't worry about it, i'll buy yee a new one, in exchange for yee number and name..." the boy was very clearly slick as astoria chuckled, nodding her head

"...oh, thank you so much and, of course, you can!" astoria smiled as she and the boy started to walk back in the direction of the coffee shop that she had just left before the two of them collided with one another

writing down her name and number on a napkin that she managed to still have in her hand from the other coffee, she handed it over to the boy who smiled brightly. his gorgeous blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight that shone down on them.  

looking down at the name and number on the napkin, the boy smiled, "hello astoria, that's a lovely name for a very gorgeous girl. i'm kian, and honestly, don't worry about the coffee stain, i wore a black shirt for a reason, clearly!" kian giggled as astoria gulped, her eyes wide as she nodded her head, not sure whether she had already fallen in love with the boy in front of her or if she was still horrified that she bumped into him all because of a butterfly

"hmm, yeah, clearly!" astoria hummed out as she gulped, trying to keep her composure as the two made it back to the coffee shop

after telling kian her order (in which he would remember in the future), he ordered it for her whilst astoria sat herself down. in a far-off little booth after recognising that just like her, he got reactions from people around him. clearly meaning that like her, he had some sort of fame and recognition to his name, she knew that he'd want some privacy and turns out that she would also need it too.

the duo then got to talking after recognising each other's names and found out a lot about one another. like they both were from the same part of ireland, sligo, which is where they were currently. they both came from rather large families (kian being the fifth of seven kids and astoria the sixth of seven kids) and they were both rising pop stars with their manager both being louis walsh.

the moment astoria finished her coffee, she was sort of sad that she'd have to be parting ways with her new friend, kian. having to catch another flight but, this time to dublin. it seemed as if kian thought the same thing before quickly coming up with a compromise to make the farewell a lot happier.

"...how about on friday at 6pm, i take you out on a date, on me, to make up for us havign to leave in the next couple of minutes, you to dublin and me back to london with my band?" kian smiles as astoria's face lights up in excitement as she nods her head

"you've got my number, egan, you know what to do," astoria, in a moment of confidence, winked and gave the bleached blondie a kiss on the cheek, completely rendering him speechless as he was then left nodding his head

"uh-huh..." he mutters out as the two part ways, both of them smiling like high school lods as they both almost happily skip to their cars before they both went about the rest of their highly busy recording days slightly happier however than how they started them.

one date turned to two, then four, then ten. "hello" turned to "never leave my mind again".

since kian asked astoria on that first date, it quickly turned to a second, then a fourth and then tenth. shortly after the tenth but in between the sixth and the seventh, was when kian fully knew that he was falling head over heels in love with astoria. and astoria was falling head over heels in love with kian. on the tenth date however was when kian finally popped the question and that was when astoria really felt like maybe, the butterfly incident wasn't something that she wished hadn't happened. especially when this is what she got in return. maybe it wasn't a mistake, maybe it truly was fate making the two of them meet one another.

"...this was a lot of fun, kian. i really did enjoy it but, my one question is...how...how do you continue coming up with all these amazing date nights?" astoria smiled brightly as she and kian walked alongside each other, hands clasped together, which they had upgraded to very quickly, on their second date

kian smiled, his eyes looking at the ground as he blushed, "i...i just, i guess i just know what you like?" he said it as though it was a question which made astoria laugh which made kian giggle

"well, you clearly do as all these dates have included all of my favourite things that i did as a kid or young teenager back in sligo, either, you're a stalker, which i doubt or you just really have a spiritual connection with me and we're like, soulmates, that were destined to meet by fate," astoria smiled contently as kian smiled too as he stopped the both of them in the middle of the road

it had started to rain, which made the both of them laugh at how cliche this was beginning to look.

"i know this may seem cliche now that it's raining but, i...i really do like you astoria and, i don't like like you, i love you. it...it's as though we really are soulmates that were destined by fate to meet and, i'm glad we did on that day. the day you split your coffee all over me because you got distracted by a butterfly's wing brushing your cheek *giggles*. i've honestly never felt the way i feel around you, like any other girl i may have just been named alongside i didn't feel like this. you...you make me feel safe and happy all the time. we're both singers in bands yet, you don't use that to blackmail or use it against me when last-minute, we're not able to meet up because you know exactly what last-minute meetings like that are like. you don't get mad at me just because i was seen, god-forbid, with another person in a magazine, originally published at the very beginning of westlife's career but republished just to get clicks and create drama. you don't care about the way i act or that i take my job very seriously. you don't care because you know me and have gotten to know me as just kian. not kian from westlife. i bloody love you astoria and i really would love it if you could never leave my mind again and be my girlfriend?" kian smiled shyly as astoria smiled brightly as she nodded her head and giggled

sighing loudly, kian smiled happily as he picked up his new girlfriend making her squeal, "oh am i so glad you said yes!" he breathed out as he spun the both of them around as they chuckled

"babe, this is cute and all but, now we're soaking wet from the sligo rain and, we're still three blocks away from your car..." astoria trailed off, hating that she ruined the moment as kian giggled, shaking himself off like he was a dog, making astoria squeal

"...and?" he jokingly retorted back as if it wasn't a problem which made the both of them giggle hysterically as they didn't bother to get out of the rain

sometimes i sit in bed and think if that butterfly never made me spill that drink would you have found your way to me?

astoria and kian had just come back to their hotel room after their wedding cermony and were still celebrating but not in the way some people may have been thinking they were. kian was pretty much fully asleep, his arm softly draped around his wife's chest as she was fully sat up, leaning against the headrest as she was heavily thinking.

clearly bothered that he wasn't cuddling his wife and sleeping with her, kian woke up and grumbled, "what are you thinking about love?" astoria chuckled at her husband's grumble as she smiled brightly

"us..." she trailed off as kian sat up as well, now fully awake as he shook his head in confusion at the fact that no context was given

"...context please babe, what do you mean you're thinking about us?" kian spoke slowly as astoria giggled, caressing her husband's cheek

"the fact that if it wasn't for that butterfly that made me spill my coffee, would you still have met met? would we be laying here, together, right now, married as mr and mrs egan?" astoria explained as that really made kian think, would they be married right now if it weren't for that butterfly?

"well, that...that's actually a good question..." kian trailed off as he yawned and astoria giggled as she leaned on her husband, her eyes drooping as she also began to feel tired

the egans, after really thinking about how they met, found themselves falling asleep with within moments. as they slept and dreamt of their first meeting all over again as if it was just that, a dream.

was it fate or the work of the theory clearly? you and i were meant to be so, the universe helped bring you to me and i'm thankful every night for that pretty butterfly! 

liked by kianegan,shanefilanofficial,markusmoments,rokeating and 888k others

astoriaegan was it fate or the work of the theory, clearly? you and i were meant to be so the universe helped bring you to me and i'm thankful every night for that pretty butterfly.

~

all the time, kian and i are asked how we met and we always smile and laugh. because, truthfully, the way we met was absolutely something you'd either read in a book or watch in a movie. so, the reason why we don't say it is because we geniunely think that people outside our families and westlife family won't believe us. but, here we are, here i am, finally explaining to you all how kian and i met. so, one day, in the year 1999, the day kian and i ended up meeting, i was walking back from buying myself a coffee in sligo. because, i had just come back home from flying to london for a recording session with one of my venus girls to then have to fly to dublin to record with the other two. but, i was distracted by a beautiful monarch butterfly that brushed its wing against my cheek. which, in turn, caused me to forget to cross the street and i bumped into kian. spilling my coffee, boiling hot coffee, all over him. and, i know what you're thinking, and i honestly always think the same thing too. but, i'm glad it happened because i am in absolute love with my husband and we were truly destined to meet and marry because we are literally soulmates. and yes, the point of this post was because i wrote a song about kian and i meeting called "butterfly effect (demo)". and whether it'll be recorded to be sung for me and the girls, i don't know yet but, i am releasing the demo edition everywhere this weekend. which, is something i am so excited about so, if you want to hear the song about the story of kian and i meeting, you'll be very soon and both kian and i are very excited for you all to hear it!

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kianegan i love you tori! i really do and i am so fucking excited for this new song demo to come out oh my god! 

shanefilanofficial this is adorable and i cannot wait for the song to be released! you best believe i'll be the first to listen to it! 

markusmoments i'm in love already and i haven't heard the song yet! 

rokeating okay, this excites me for reasons unexplainable 

username mum and dad?? 

gillianfilansligo mr and mrs egan are gorgeous! 

the day i met you, felt myself mend. "hello" turned to "never leave my mind again". now you sleep by my side and kiss my neck. and i thank the world for the butterfly effect" 

liked by astoriaegan,nickybyrneinsta,georginaahernbyrne,gillianfilansligo and 871k others

kianegan the day i met you, felt myself mend. "hello" turned to "never leave my mind again". now you sleep by my side and kiss my neck. and i thank the world for the butterfly effect ❤️

~

happy release day to my wife astoria's new gorgeous demo song "butterfly effect (demo)"! watching her go from just talking about the premise of her writing a song about our love story and how we first met to then producing it, recording it and now releasing it has been an experience i'd love to do all over again. it was truthfully so special and i am so glad i was able to be a part of every single part of it. i love you so much astoria and i am so so fucking proud of you ❤️. everyone please, go listen to "butterfly effect (demo)" and request for it to be played on the radio!!!

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astoriaegan fuck i love you, husband! 

nickybyrneinsta now this is too cute! the song is fucking amazing, astoria! g and i send our congratulations! 

georginaahernbyrne husband of the year! the song is a hit, i'm sorry but astoria is a fantastic songwriter, why doesn't she write for venus? 

kianegan georginaahernbyrne she has recently been writing for the band but, i can't reveal anything else 

gillianfilansligo just finished listening to butterfly effect and i am in love with it! 

carlenevenus honestly this is the best song i've ever heard! excited for everyone to hear the songs that you've written for the band! 

fan12 so proud of astoria and i bet you are just as much, kian! 

piperstewartvenus this. song. is. amazing! 

for the butterfly effect 

- - - 

the first time i wrote this was for jamie campbell bower and i loved it but, this time writing it for kian egan was even better! this brought so much serotonin to me without any explanation as to why! i love the song and i love this one-shot so i think it's also self-explanatory and i don't need to explain it! 

ok ily bye xx

wc; 2828

[the-huntress]

Little Moth - Chapter 1 - The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning

[Hi guys, welcome to my fanfiction. This is a Resident Evil inspired fanfiction, I wanted to incorporate a number of my favourite characters, and especially our beloved Magnet Daddy. Slow burn, soft smut impending, beyond that who knows… But to be safe I will say that this is for 18+ years of age only. Let me know if you’d liked to be on a tag list for future chapters. Masterlist is pinned. Thank you to everyone that has read so far. <3]

Masterlist

Trigger Warnings: Mention of menstruation, swearing.

Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg [18+]

Summary:

Your lifelong friend, Leon Kennedy, has mysteriously gone missing two years after the events of Racoon City. You make a discovery that could lead to his whereabouts; dare you enter the Village?

[Photos are my own] You weren’t sure exactly what you were looking at for a moment, arching your back forwards over the desk in the dimly lit room, the glare from the laptop the only source of light. Several windows had been left open on the screen, and despite the turmoil that Leon’s apartment had been left in, this was what had really grabbed your attention.

The most notable of which was a photo, the resolution was grainy, a scan from a black and white film photo, it looked almost like a foetus, but you couldn’t be sure. Was somebody pregnant? It was almost akin to the sort of photograph that expecting parents would show at a baby shower, but this was… different. You had a feeling of impending doom just by looking at this thing.

Next, another very grainy photo of a town, it almost looked like some of the places from back home in England; a church steeple, a castle or maybe a mansion in the distance? A quaint looking village in the snow. And lastly, a very cryptic email;

                                               10/10/2000

Leon,

Know not what I have done, but what I believe must be done now.

Half of the results of good intentions are evil; half of the results of an evil intention are good.

You have the information that you need, please make haste.

A friend.

Well, that’s ambiguous as fuck. You thought to yourself, pushing the chair back and pulling the lighter from the little band on the side of your cap. You reached to your shoulder and cursed. That’s right, you’d given up, “for health reasons”. Putting the lighter back you reached instead for your camera, a notepad and a pen. You’d been tempted to just take the laptop and the scattered papers, but after several years in the police you knew it was beneficial to leave things as they were. Your eyes flitted from paper to paper, taking notes of numbers, flights, times, place names, anything that you could until you’d filled a couple of pages. One page for practical info, and one page, now that you looked at it almost sounded like a fairy tale;

A village, four kings, four lords, and a mysterious ‘Mother Miranda’. You bit the end of the pen and pondered. It was like nothing you’d ever heard of before, what had he got himself into…

Several days ago you had received a text from the man himself;

‘Y/N I am going to be out of

town for a while, something has

come up. Please don’t worry,

will explain soon. Leon. X

P.S. I’ve left Timesplitters in

your mail box, play you again

when I get back! :] ’

And now here you were. You scoffed knowing he’d have had to pay double to send that one, but he was mad to think that you wouldn’t worry, he was like a brother to you, hell, the only family that you had. After a childhood growing up in rural England you had moved to the states with your father and stepmother when you were in those vulnerable years of your teens during the early 90s, but were lucky enough to have met Leon in school. The two of you had become best friends quickly, and even graduated from the same police academy. It was Leon that saved your butt two years ago when all hell broke loose in Racoon City, him and Claire.

You shifted on the collapsible chair in front of the usually neatly tidied desk which was now strewn with various papers and articles. Your thoughts of Claire continued, and you pulled out your Nokia, opened a message and then faltered. It was late. Later than late you realised, seeing the time; 02:08 AM. What am I doing? You didn’t want to wake her, so you put the phone back into the pocket on your belt.

You swept a strand of your hair behind your ear, the outgrown bangs jumping back in the way and you blew at them irritated. You heard a grumble and moaned, looking down at your stomach. Padding across the shiny, tiled floor you left the desk and headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge where you knew there would be left-over pizza. Sure, it was from over a week ago when you were last here hanging out, but hey, it’s pizza, right?

‘Ugh dude, always with the anchovies, why?’ you mumbled, flinging a small fish into the bin and mentally backhanding the back of Leon’s head. Of course, it was his side of the pizza that was left over, probably trying to stay in shape in case he bumped into ‘Ada’ again. You weren’t keen, but then, you didn’t trust her. You looked at your phone again, left on the desk besides the laptop, Leon would be much better off with Claire, but sadly you felt perhaps that ship had set sail long ago.

You went to sit yourself back down at the desk. CRUNCH “Shit!” Your eyes darted to your right knee. “Fuck… you’re not giving me a break are you.” Letting out a sigh you closed your eyes for a moment. Since you were a child your knee had given you problems. A few dislocations, hospital visits, insteps, braces and physiotherapy. You’d had to grit your teeth hard through every physical training session during academy, but you’d made it. Fortunately for you it wasn’t something that many people would be able to notice or spot. You could run for miles with no problem; it was the recovery time in the days that followed that was tough. You knew it was getting worse, and had been reading about how much longer you might have before you’d need a full replacement, but you knew that it could jeopardise your job, you knew you’d likely not get put on the jobs that you wanted, and the thought of being put into the office answering calls made your heart sink.

And then you spotted it, the corner of another window was sticking out from under the others, exposing the corner of a third photograph. Instantly recognising the symbol you felt as though you were falling.

“What…”

Dragging the window and clicking it to full screen you could see this photograph clearly; some kind of mural, was it in stone? It looked as though there were four crests, family crests maybe. And at the centre; “Umbrella.” You breathed. You stared at it for several minutes and quickly took a photo of the screen on your camera, no point trying to get that old thing to work, you thought, looking at the printer at the other end of the desk. You couldn’t help but smirk, memories of Leon trying to print page after page of game walk throughs, whilst trying to find all the secrets in your favourite action/ adventure game, and laughing your head off at him, mouthful of noodles spilling back out into the carton as a hundred pages shot out at him, flying all over the room with cheat codes for a scantily dressed version of the playable character.

You looked at the clock again, time to go. If you were going to do this, you needed sleep and to get going as soon as you could the next day. It might drain your bank account, but it would be worth it. You didn’t have a good feeling about any of this, and more often than not, your gut instincts were right. Grabbing your R.P.D jacket at the door, you took one last glance at the room. It really did look like a whirlwind had hit it, not like Leon when he was in a better mental state at all. You knew that when he wasn’t his best he’d reach a for a drink and then some, but you could see that nothing was broken, and it was mostly clothes scattered, some bits of equipment and where he’d clearly got the luggage bag down from on top of the wardrobe. Nothing to worry about in regard to kidnap or a break in at least; as if that was enough to stop you from worrying about whatever lay ahead in this ‘Village’.

It started to rain just as you got into your apartment building, and you smiled. You’d always liked the rain. Stopping to quickly check your pigeon-hole for mail and seeing nothing you felt something press up against you calf, rubbing itself against the tops of your boots. You looked down and grinned, scooping up a slender, black cat in one hand and kissing the top of her head. “I’m going to miss you Boo, keep an eye on my mail for me while I’m gone, you know how crammed that thing gets.” You winked at her as you set her back down outside Mrs. Little’s door and fished a sandwich bag full of the leftover pizza anchovies out of your R.P.D. bag. “You didn’t think I’d forget you, did you?” Leaving Boo hastily munching into her treats you jogged up the stairs, your knee twinged, but it wasn’t too bad. It just had its moments.

Your apartment was pretty standard for this part of the city; both you and Leon had left Racoon city some time ago, though it wasn’t far from here. It had been destroyed and bordered off and that was all there was too it. You had to tell it to yourself that way to cope. Leon’s apartment was slightly swankier, but then again, he did like his gadgets and liked to keep things tidy, when his thoughts weren’t somewhere else. You on the other hand were happy to know that while everything had its place, sometimes that place would be on the floor… next to the thingy and nestled safely under a cereal box; and that was okay! You picked up the thingy, and looked at it fondly, before folding it up and putting it away with the others.

Stretching and yawning you looked around you, making a mental note of what needed to be done; pack, shower, sleep. You’d get the tickets the next day, and some money too, you’d have to stop off at the currency exchange. What currency did they even use there? Equipment, keep it simple; knives, pistol, rounds, lighter, fluid, compass, torch, camera, medi-kit. A couple of spare pairs of clothes, and you had your light armour that also fit into the case. You knew the contents would raise suspicion, but you had your badge, at the end of the day another cop had gone missing, and your team knew too.

You whipped off the remainder of your uniform and jumped in the shower, the bathroom filling up with steam and bubbles quickly and you sang along to a few songs on the radio. Wiping the mirror to see yourself more clearly you felt all your insecurities flood to you at once, as well as seeing yourself for the natural beauty that you were. You pursed your lips, staring into your own eyes and promised you’d find him safe and bring him back. He’d yell at you for going in the first place, but you knew this wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. Traipsing out from the bathroom, you felt the cool air attack your flushed skin. You liked it, you were always a window open kind of person, no matter the weather, the fresh air just soothed you. Of course, that meant the odd moth now and again, like now as you heard the tiny body plummet time and time again against the spherical glass shade of the dim lamp besides your bed. Snuggling up into the loose blankets you smiled at the little creature and pulled the cord on the lamp, smiling again as you felt the moth settle on the side of your head.

After that you actually fell to sleep very quickly. It had been a long day after all; a 6AM start, patrol, arresting some juvies for petty crimes, followed by yet another zombie scare, (false alarm thank God), before filing up all the paper work and heading to Leon’s. Sleep fell like a veil of cool clouds, taking you in and raising you up into the inky blue skies of the night. The next thing you knew, you were butt naked in a dark green forest, dew drops shining on moss like a trillion tiny emeralds. Mist hung thick in the air, and thousands of tiny moths flew up from the ground? No. From you. You were raising your arms up to the skies, the moss covered forest floor moist under your bare feet and between your toes. Behind you the silhouette of a deer… antlers, but much, much taller. In front of you a pair of cold silver-gold eyes in the dark. You felt drawn, ever so drawn, taking one step forward, and then another, your arms coming down now, hands outstretched in caring caress, your heart swelled, your lips bloomed, taking in a short breath, and then; blood. Gushes of it, soaking into the moss, reddening Earth’s green carpet, and dripping down the trunks of the trees, the moths falling from the air around you, their wings sticking and stopping in the thick, red mess.

“Shit!” You fell back down onto your bed, several items around you also crashing down. Hand to your head, you looked wildly about. It happened again. Whatever had fallen this time had been heavy. You turned to see half the cutlery that had been lying on the kitchen tops now on the floor, and the knives and pistol that you’d placed earlier on top of the luggage bag were now in the middle of the floor. A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over you. The same dream, but longer, and this time with blood. “Shit” again, you put a hand to your pants, pulled the covers back and saw red. “Well, that’s one more thing I need to bring with me.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes, and throwing yourself back onto the bed.

Song Suggestion: ‘The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning’ by The Smashing Pumpkins

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Reality check

Fandom: DC Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader Word count: 4.1k Summary: It was a normal day for you when the sidewalk literally opens up and swallows you whole only to spit you back out into a world that you thought only existed in comics before. There you meet a certain Vigilante and things get more complicated very, very quickly... Warning: I think this classifies as angst, not sure though, Definitly almost drowning tho, also multiple instances of unconciousness, lil bit of fluff if you squint, also me trying to be funny and failing Requested by the incredibly, amazing, breathtaking @dudeidkwhattoputformyusername: Hi! I love your work! is it possible for u to do a Damian Wayne x reader one shot, where reader comes from reality and bumps into Damian in Robin form. Then u can develop from there anyway u like! preferably fluff tho. thank u!!!!!!!!!!

Everything was blurry and your head was throbbing like someone was working on it with a jackhammer. The pain was the first thing that you felt during the process of waking up, no other sense quiet activated yet. Next was the realization that your body was shivering uncontrollably and wherever you were laying definitely wasn’t a bed for as far as you remembered, beds weren’t usually wet, cold and stone-hard. Following was your eyesight that finally returned to you, alongside with your smell and hearing, and as if they were high-school bullies who were teaming up against the local geek in a 90’s sitcom, they all came crashing up upon you like a train. Now theoretically seen, you were able to see, hear and smell again, but practically seen, asking you to do either of the three was like asking someone to find a needle in a needlestack, or a single straw of hay in a haystack. It was just too much, definite sensory overload. A few minutes you couldn’t do anything but lay there, shivering and cold and miserable, before slowly your brain started to work through all the input and sort through it until you were able to comprehend it. The first thing you noticed was the smell. It wasn’t a very pleasant one, it smelled like you fish, water and something rotten and if you had any more control over your body you probably would have thrown up. The sounds that you could hear now put the smells a little bit more into perspective. What sounded like screams and the end of the world before was now identifiable as the screeching of seagulls, the honking of boats and the soft crashing of waves. So you were near a harbor or port? The last puzzle piece was the view you got when you opened your eyes. The cold, wet, stone-hard ‘not-bed’ that you had been lying on was in fact a concrete jetty. Only a few feet away from you was the cold dark sea and above you was the night sky. How long have you been lying here? What happened? How did you get there? As you were staring up into the sky something about it made you uneasy, the way the stars were shining, the darkness of the universe, the fullness of the moon- Wait, wasn’t it a new moon just a few days ago? You sat up suddenly, immediately regretting it when the pain shook through your head again, re-starting the throbbin at 100%, and - after you could open your eyes again - looked down at your body. You were wearing a soaked through sweater that you had bought a few days prior and just as soaked through jeans and socks, your shoes nowhere in sight. The sea was restless and splashed against the sides of the jetty, dops landing on your sleeves and face. For some reason, the sensation of the liquid against your skin brought forth a flashback that completely blinded you. It was like you were watching from above as you relieved the last thing you remembered, how you had been going home after your part-time job at the library when the floor had literally peeled open below you and you fell into a cold nothingless, only for water to come crashing down at you from all sides. When you finally realized that you were not on the sidewalk a few blocks away from your home anymore, but in raging water, somewhere below the surface you were already only seconds away from drowning. With all the power you could muster and adrenaline rushing through your veins you managed to fight your way upwards and upwards until your hand finally broke through the water’s surface. The breath that you took when you made it up completely must have been the best and somehow worst gulp of air you had ever taken in. The adrenaline was ebbing off and the exhaustion made its way through all your muscles, but when you saw the lights in the distance you managed to keep on going until you had managed to pull yourself up a concrete jetty where you finally blacked out. Your mind made its way back into your body and you grasped the situation, even though believing it still wasn’t the easiest task. I mean the earth quite literally swallowing you up? That doesn't sound reasonable. And yet, it was the thing you remembered so you would have to live with that truth until someone could prove you otherwise. More and more questions started to swirl through your mind - an unreasonable amount of them quite honestly - but you knew you had to take things one step at a time. Okay, what did you know? You were in an unknown location so there was no new there, but your former question of ‘how long have you been there’ was now answered. Given the state of your clothes and the fact that it was still deep, dark night you couldn’t have been unconscious for long. But that didn’t help you much - you were still sitting there freezing cold and soaked with no idea where you actually were. What would you do usually when you were lost? Phone, ah, right. You patted over your pockets and actually found it, only to be very unsurprised when it only gave you a black void to stare into. Sadly you didn’t have a bag of rice to put it into in the other pocket, instead only a set of keys that you didn’t recognize along with something that looked like a keychain in form of a piece of polished wood with the letters D and (Your first initial) with a plus in between engraved into it. “Great, I can open some doors now, too bad I don’t know which,” you spoke aloud to yourself, only for the worlds to come out stuttered thanks to your teeth that were shaking just as much as the rest of you. You stuffed the keys and the broken phone back into your pockets and managed to pull yourself up and stand, even though all your muscles were screaming in despair. The thing you really wanted to do was lie back down and fall asleep again, wait for the sun to rise and dry your clothes, but you knew that with the coldness and the water all around you, you’d probably be dead or at least deadly sick by morning, so you had to find shelter, warmth and - maybe most importantly - answers. With slow, little steps you walked down the jetty, towards the buildings that looked unoccupied at that time of day, with an unknown city stretching out behind it that promised life and warmth. For what felt like hours, but was probably just minutes, you managed to walk a few feet until you were a safe distance away from the water and near a bench that must have been put there for people who wanted to watch the water or have a break from work or similar things. It looked at you so invitingly, so comfortably, so perfect. Deep inside you knew that you should probably not sit down, even if you told yourself it would be just for a few minutes, but your exhaustion took over and you sunk down onto it, falling to the side and rolling as good as it was possible together into a little roll. You’d take a nap, just a quick one, only a few minutes, then you’d get up with new energy and find the warmth you were looking for. The longer you sat there the heavier your eyelids got until you couldn’t take it anymore and the darkness enveloped you into its safety again.

The next time you woke up, things weren’t so bad anymore, it wasn’t all that blurry and the throbbing had dialed down a bit, but your body was shaking worse than before. In fact, it was shaking so bad that your shoulder thumbed against the backrest of the bench before being pulled forward again and repeating the circle, the only weird thing was that it was just your shoulder. And there was this weird pressure around it. Wait! You weren’t shaking worse, someone else was shaking you as if they were trying to wake you up. You peeled your eyes completely opened and looked into white voids surrounded by black and like your eyes were the camera of a 2000’ kids-camera they slowly zoomed out and revealed the white voids to be the eye-parts of a mask sitting on the face of a masked (duh) boy who was wearing a very, very colorful and bright outfit. It seemed familiar and the gears in your head started turning. “Habibti, you’re okay,” the boy said in a relieved tone and while he helped you sit up you mustered him with a confused look. “That’s not my name, it’s Y/N.” The way his mask contorted gave off a sense of confusion that mirrored yours, just with a little bit more worry in it, but before he could say anything else you motioned to his outfit. “What is it with the outfit? It isn’t Halloween yet, is it?” “You don’t recognize me?” he asked you and the tone of voice he used almost made you feel sorry for him, but given that you had no idea what he was talking about you would probably be able to cope. “No, sorry…” you started before the gears finally fell into place and you recognized it, “Oh, wait, I think I do, you’re playing Batman’s sidekick right? I think it was Robin. That’s so cool, I myself was always more of a Marvel fan - you know with Black Widow and all that - but both are super valid so cool hobby dude. It looks pretty rad too.” Even with the mask you could see the complete bedazzlement in his face and you wondered if your weird world-swallowing-experience had magically changed the language you spoke from English to Mandarine. “What- What do you mean?” “You’re Cosplaying right? Dressing up as a Comic Character?” you tried to explain and you could feel a slight anger building up at how stupid he made you feel without even being able to see his eyes. “I’m not Cosplaying a comic character?” he said in a questioning manner. “Yes, you are. You’re wearing the outfit and everything, like the guy in the Comics who works with Batman. I think his name was Richard or something, but you should know better, you’re cosplaying him after all,” you tried to explain yet again, seriously questioning your sanity. Now he really didn’t need the mask to hide the fact that he was seriously triggered by what you had said - even though you weren’t quite sure why. Had Robin been cancelled over twitter while you were unconscious? “I think it’d be better if I bring you to safety and get you checked out,” he averted the topic of the conversation and started to position his hands like he wanted to pick you up, but you put a stop to it when you pressed him away. “Listen, I appreciate the help, but I’ll definitely not be going with a complete stranger in a comic costume, so if you could just give me your phone so that I can call my parents or my friends that’d be great.” For a few seconds he just sat there straight, as if unsure of the best course of action, before he sight and pulled a phone out, unlocking it and handing it to you. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought about who to call, thankful that your mum had made you learn her number by heart, but when you went to dial it your whole body stopped working, like there was a physical restriction keeping you from typing. Suddenly you realized it. You didn’t know the number - you knew you should, that you had been using it for years upon years and that you definitely should know it - and your eyes grew wide. You scavenged through your head searching for more numbers, but then you realized another thing. There were none. How was that possible? You didn’t even know the area code from where you lived. “I- I don’t- what?” you looked up at the boy with tearful eyes, the reality of the situation just too much for you. “It’s okay, I’m sure it will come back to you,” he tried to sooth you, but you were too frustrated and sad to be happy about soothing from some creepy geek. “Would you please finally tell me why you’re in costume?” you asked exasperated and moved further away from him. “I-” The answer of the boy was cut short when a ‘whooshing’ sound echoed around the area and a booming voice called out: “Robin”. The boy shot you another look before shouting back. “I’m here, I’ve-” he obviously wanted to add something, but he cut himself off this time and just looked at you. A man in a black, leather suit with a black cowl over his face that you noticed to be definitely inspired by Batman and very well done came rushing towards you. Again, you couldn’t see his eyes, but you recognized the same worried look that the boy already had. “Oh no, not another one,” you sighed and pushed your hair back, “Is there some kind of Comic Convention here? Or is this a weird sexual thing?” Now the man looked at the boy even more confused, and the boy just shrugged, but instead of answering you, he brought his hand up to where his ear was under the cowl and spoke to himself: “I’ve found Robin, he’s found her, we’re going to come back now.” If it had only been the first and last part of that sentence you would have made a joke about them being into LRPG or something, but the ‘her’ part scared you for some reason. You stood up and backed away, happy that the boy didn’t keep the grip on even though his eyes were following your every move. “This was fun and all, but I’m still soaked and really cold, and I had a nice swim earlier which I want to calm down from again, so I think I’ll just go back home now, call myself a cab or something,” you turned around, more than ready to strain your muscles yet again with running away, but it never got to that point, because a second later you were ripped up from the ground and sizzled through the air. It was so surprising that you didn’t even manage to scream before you found yourself with hard ground under your feet again. You looked up at what had pulled you through the skies and found the boys face yet again and - may it have been from the scare of everything finally becoming to much - the last thing you could say before you blacked out for the third time that night was: “That’s some on point cosplay dude.”

The soft sheets of your bed gave you a sense of relief as you woke up from that weird ass dream that you were having. You were unsure about why exactly your unconsciousness was making you see these things, but you made a mental note about checking the dream meaning of getting swallowed by the sidewalk later on. For now all you wanted was to go have some breakfast and call your mom to tell her about that dream. So you opened your eyes and threw the blanket back only to be surprised by the ceiling that was definitely not yours. There was a sound beside you and you looked over to see a boy about your age, black hair standing up from his head a little spiky and green eyes focused entirely on you. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” you cursed and moved as far away from the boy as possible, “Who are you?!” “What do you remember?” the boy asked you, completely ignoring your question. Your eyes flew to the door that was right behind him and you found that there was no way for you to get to it without having to overthrow the boy - but by the looks of him he’d knock you out easily. “I was on my way home from my job when the fucking ground opened up, swallowed me, thrw me back up into the ocean and then I met two werid ass cosplayers before I woke up here.” “You still think we’re cosplayers?” “We?” “Yes,” he just nodded with complete ease. “Well, I gotta admit that flying thing was pretty rad. What was that? Are you actors and you’re making a movie? Because if so then I’m sorry for bursting onto the shooting site.” “We’re not making a movie,” he stated, still completely chilled, even though there was something else lying under it. “What then? You telling me you’re actually Robin? Because if so I’m not the only one who needs to have her head checked out,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes, arms crossing in front of your chest. The boy just mirrored your look, completely stern and serious. “You’re not serious, are you?” you couldn’t help but let out an unbelieving chuckle. He kept silent and just observed you. “You fucking are, oh my gosh.” “How can I prove it to you?” he asked, still so incredibly serious that you felt like you were a clown walking in on a job interview. “Oh, I don’t know. Call Flash, Superman and the easter bunny over so we can have tea with the tooth fairy,” you answered ironically and made a ‘cray-cray’ gesture with your hand going in circles beside your temple, but instead of being offended by your comment, he just pulled out his phone - the same phone you had tried to use earlier you noted. “What are you doing?” you asked, but he just held his hand up to sush you and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello, it’s Damian Wayne,” he introduced himself to the other person -  and you noted that he was not a ‘Richard’ after all, “Yes, could you do me a favor? Could you come to the Manor real quick? Yes, yes I know, no it’s not an emergency. The suit would be great, yes. See you in a bit. You opened your mouth again when he hung up to ask who he called over, but he kept his hand up and motioned to you to wait, while he opened up the window, even though it was still cold out. A gust of wind filled the room and suddenly there was another boy standing besides the original boy - Damian as he had introduced himself - who was wearing a cape, a shirt with a logo that was definitely Supermans and ripped jeans. “H-How the fuck did he just? Was he here this whole time? What? How?” you stuttered and looked between Damian and the other boy who looked at you even more confused than you felt, but Damian waved him off and motioned for him to leave, which he promptly did. The new boy looked at Damian with question marks in his eyes, but he just waved him off. “You believe me now?” he asked, directed towards you and you had to admit it was pretty convincing. “But how? I’m in a comic?” “Y/N, this isn’t a comic, this is reality,” Damian told you with a soft voice, but your eyes just widened and you tried to move back even further. “How do you know my name?” “In your left pocket there is a set of keys and keychains. One of these keychains is a piece of wood with two letters engraved. A D and a (Your first initial), am I right?” Your heart stopped for a second and you patted the pocket where that exact thing was still lying. “H-How do you know my name?” “What do you remember about your life, about how you ended up in the water?” he avoided the question like a pro and you decided to play along, just in hope he’d answer your question sooner or later. “I was born the daughter of Y/Parents/N in Y/H/T. I grew up normally and went to school, nothing special, got a job on the side and when I went home yesterday the sidewalk started to open up like there was an earthquake and I was suddenly in the water, I told you about that part already.” “And you have never met me in your life?” he asked and sounded almost disappointed. “No, an hour ago I thought you didn’t exist outside of paper, the internet and movies,” you huffed and tried to figure out what his endgame was with this, when he pulled his phone out again and tapped on it for a bit before shoving it in your direction. “How do you explain this then?” You moved forwards with caution until you could see the screen and your breath stopped. It was a picture of you. Of Damian and you to be precise. The two of you were sitting on a bench, laughing and smiling and obviously happy, a cute dog on the ground between the two of you where something else drew your attention. In the photograph your left hand was intertwined with his right one. “W-What is this? Some sick kind of joke?” “You really don’t remember? Not at all?” he asked flabbergasted. “Remember what? What is going on here?” you almost shouted, the frustration becoming just a little bit too much, “Please just give me some explanation, please.” “You’re Y/N Y/L/N, you really are the daughter of Y/Parents/N, but you didn’t grow up in Y/H/T, you grew up here in Gotham. You went to Gotham academy, where the two of us met and...became friends. You found out about me being Robin and my father being Batman rather quickly too,” Damian explained and even though it didn’t match up even slightly with what you remembered, it felt weirdly accurate. You went to the bed again and sucked down onto it, before thinking back to the picture and raised an eyebrow at Damian. “Not that I say it’s true what you’re saying, but if we hypothetically say it was, then we weren’t just friends, right? We’re together?” “Yes.” “Okay,” a sigh escaped you and everything was feeling blurry, but you had to continue asking, wanting to know the truth, “Then how do you explain me ending up in the ocean?” “That’s where things get a bit harsher,” Damian sight too, but obviously for other reasons, “Yesterday evening you accompanied me to a party - a family thing - on a yacht and things were going great, but something went wrong. No one had an idea that the weather would shift like that, but a storm came and the yacht was thrown around and you - you were thrown off, I thought you died, I was devastated, but- uhm...well… You remembered that keychain? I gave it to you for our first year anniversary and it may or may not have a tracker in it, so that I could find you in a worst case scenario and if that wasn’t a worst case scenario then I don’t know what is.” For a few minutes silence filled the room as you worked through all of the new information, but the sad look on Damian’s face, the seriousness in his voice, the entire situation in itself? They made it hard to doubt what he was telling you. Your gaze was stuck on your fidgeting hands when you asked the one underlying question. “Why can’t I remember?” “I don’t know, I think you must have hit your head when you fell off and your mind mixed things up - mixed reality into something else and took a few actual things and made them fiction,” Damian gave you his half-assed, definitely not medically appropriate explanation, but you couldn’t blame him for that, you had no idea either. You pulled your legs up and hugged your knees close as you looked at him, really trying to see this supposed boyfriend of yours, but your mind just turned up blank. “What if I’ll never remember? What if that’s the way it’ll be from now on?” “I’m positive that things will turn out fine, we have friends who have the best medical experience you can get, we even have mind readers who could probably help you and if not, we’ll help you make new memories, I’ll help you and I’ll wait for the memories to come back just in case.” “That’s not fair on you though, Right now I’m not the girl you’re with, you shouldn’t have to go through this,” tears were now welling up at your eyes, even though you weren’t completely sure why your emotions were so strong. “I don’t care, I really don’t, because no matter what you remember or don’t, I love you and I really hope you’ll remember that you love me too…”

[introvertguide]

Movies Set in New York

I have never lived in New York...actually I have never even spent 24 hours there straight. It is supposed to be a different kind of place than anywhere else and many residents swear it is the greatest city on Earth. One thing I do know is that it is used as the setting for some of my favorite movies and can often take on the role of an extra character. When used properly, it seems that New York can be the best character in a production. Here are some great movies that have used the Big Apple as a setting to add to the story:

King Kong (1933)

This film was the benchmark for special effects of the time. Most of the movie takes places on Skull Island, but the true kick to the story is the end when King Kong is brought to New York. They take full advantage of the skyscrapers and the transport system of the "concrete jungle." Kong is able to survive in an island jungle filled with monsters, but can't last an hour when let loose in the Big Apple. New York is a place that can destroy the innocent and the weak, but can also chew up the aggressive and the powerful.

Taxi Driver (1976)

This movie takes complete advantage of the New York underbelly where cabbies can be killers and young girls can be taken into prostitution. Being poor in New York in the 70s was a complete health hazard. One problem of the time period was the displaced veterans who were sent to New York after Vietnam. There had been difficulties for decades with racial tension and this hotbed for aggressive competition for success became the site of a lot fighting. This movie is the story of a cabby turning vigilante to try and tame the New York streets for innocents who had been caught up in the seedy underbelly of crime.

The Warriors (1979)

This is a highly underrated film about gangs in New York. It is nothing like the Martin Scorsese film that showed the origins of gang fighting when different cultures all tried to settle there simultaneously. This movie is about the well established gangs trying to combine into one unit and the breakdown when it goes wrong and a single gang is blamed. It is amazing to see the Warriors fight their way through different territories: it's almost like a video game. Not surprisingly, this concept was made into a video game by Rockstar, the same group responsible for the Grand Theft Auto series.

Wall Street (1987)

This movie is a scathing review of the "anything for a buck" super capitalistic Yuppie culture of the NYSE in the 80s. Super ambitious young entrepreneurs and financial specialists converged on Wall Street and a sudden surge in wealth for the already rich suddenly exploded. The phrase "if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere" rang true because the competition made everyone so cut throat. I saw something similar in the Silicon Valley in the 2000s. This movie is fascinating to me because it a story that uses New York and the time period as an integral part of the story.

Do The Right Thing (1989)

We have already covered this Spike Lee joint on the AFI list, but I want to say again what a large role that Brooklyn plays in this film. It is a place where there is underlying racism that can generally remain covered but bubbles to the surface with the summer heat. A lot of residents of New York are very proud of growing up there because it is almost like a badge of strength. There were some very dangerous areas of the state, especially in the 80s and 90s, and just surviving meant a certain amount of street credit. The director of photography made sure to feature the neighborhood with long establishing shots.

When Harry Met Sally (1989)

This is the story of a couple that initially did not like each other but kept having chance encounters across New York City and they eventually fell in love. Sally is repulsed by Harry when he says that a man and a woman cannot be just friends. They keep bumping into each other and finally realize their connection. The city of New York is so big and there are so many people that these serendipitous meetings have to be fate because the odds are so against it.

American Psycho (2000)

This is the story of Patrick Bateman, a wall street yuppie in New York in the 80s. The super psychotic, uber aggressive stock traders were the most successful at that time. That killer instinct was so accepted that people didn't notice when there was an actual killer in the group. Bateman is a serial killer and is set off by a coworker's superior business card. You know it is a bad situation when it is difficult to tell the overly ambitious from the truly psychotic. Apparently, that was New York in the 80s.

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If you go on Wikipedia, there are hundreds of films listed that are set in New York, some to better effect than others. All the best Scorsese films, of course, and all of the best Woody Allen films. Ghostbusters was set in New York, the Frank Henenlotter horror classic Basket Case, and the Godfather trilogy. It is a great place to set a story, so the next time you see a film set in New York, think about how the movie would be different if it was shot some place else. I bet it would make a big difference.

[iamnightduchess]

Queeeen! 😆 I live your HC to my ask about ReiKasa and if you don't mind, I'm sorry if I ask too many things but can you make HC of ReiKasa actor AU? Hehehe

Hello dearest, thank you for the interesting Ask! I hope this post fits into your envisioned universe 😉

Reiner x Mikasa (ReiKasa) Actor AU Universe (Gen) Headcanon #15

Acting Career

Both are very professional in their acting - they each have serious switch energies. They are both different off-screen and on-screen.

Reiner got his footing in acting as a rising action star. There had even been rumors of him being a stripper when he was in college, which he did not deny, saying that he needed to pay for his degree. In real life, he is the coolest, hilarious and dorky guy ever (He's a party animal!) But when the cams started rolling, he'll switch to the darkest mode needed for his character that it scares the producers at times. Same goes with Eren.

Before Reiner was cast as one of the recurring characters in the SnK series, he's also known as the face of Calvin Klein, Red Bull Energy Drink & Tag Heuer.

Meanwhile Mikasa is a multifaceted & talented actress who began her career as a child actress/commercial models. You could see her extensive filmography as she took on guest roles and recurring characters in older tv serials in the 90s & early 2000s. This woman also made a lot of cameos in the MV of famous rock & pop bands.

Mikasa is already a famous household name before her breakout role as the main actress for SnK The Series. She is the face of Dior, Simone Pérèle & Anna Sui.

After SnK The Series became a global phenomenon, both Reiner & Mikasa were appointed as Goodwill Ambassadors for UNICEF from the cast of the series.

SnK The Series (SnKTS)

When they were both cast into their respective characters, these two started out as acquaintances/ fellow castmates.

Mikasa was cast at the main three leads. Reiner was a recurring character until he gets a bump into the main roster for the final season.

These two barely have any direct lines with each other, but when they do have direct action/lines together, or just standing next to each other in a frame, fans can feel the intense vibe between these two.

Therefore, from S3 onwards, one can expect Reiner & Mikasa to be travelling together a lot for promos, fan panels & interviews.

Since they are the few actors on set that perform their own stunts, they spend a lot of time together with the stunt choreographer for most of their action scenes. Reiner and Mikasa have an amazing onscreen fight scene chemistry.

Any behind-the-scenes recording or media interviews would see these two playing pranks on each other or just tease each other mercilessly but one can see that they both have a soft spot for each other.

Dating Rumors

They both started noticing each other's endearing qualities since the first table reading for the series' season debut. They become fast, casual friends because they're both fitness enthusiasts & foodies.

These two would usually arrive on set 3 hours early & hit the gyms or do a quick run. After a while they'd usually do them together.

Reiner would be the one who's constantly checking if he might have accidentally hurt her in one of their fight scenes. Off-screen, their chemistry is very apparent amongst the production members but they insisted they're very comfortable friends.

There's a secret betting pool among the writers of the series that these two would end up married by the time the series wraps up.

One of the executive producers even said that if they end up married, he'll gift their firstborn child with his or her own education trust fund.

Reiner & Mikasa both have dating rumors but not with each other because they're so good in keeping things professional. Mikasa has fans speculating a lot, especially when a lot of musicians or sports stars shared that she is their dream date or big time crush. She's been linked to famous DJs & idols while Reiner has been linked to Victoria's Secret models & popstars. All of those were just rumors.

On red carpets of premiere, press tours, fan panels and after party, they're always photographed with a group of other cast members. Eagle-eyed fans would notice the subtle touches, secret whispers and longing looks from one to the other. Reiner would usually wear a tie that matches the color of Mikasa's dress. On-site fans would notice Reiner offering his hand for her to take when she wears heels or fixing her hair or her dress trains.

Levi and Hange, fellow married castmates who also had a secret relationship prior to their wedding, had been the one who's been Reiner & Mikasa's respective wingman/wingwoman. Armin and Annie, who are openly dating each other had been in cahoots in keeping their fellow castmates' relationship on the DL too. Annie had almost spilled the tea in an interview 🙈

These two are so private, they don't post anything about each other on their SM accounts. Reiner always posts about his fitness regime and hiking trips with Jean, Armin, Connie and occasionally Levi. Mikasa would post pictures of her, Hange, Annie, Sasha and Pieck on their vacations or her pictures of her cat, Primrose. But Annie's SM posts have almost exposed Reiner & Mikasa's relationship during one of their group's private getaways in Cabo.

Even the paparazzis were unable to spot them without non-family members or castmates around. But media was able to sniff their possible relationship when pictures of their secret vacation in Italy with their families were leaked online.

Their budding romance is comparable to Rose Leslie & Kit Harington from GOT or Ryan Reynolds & Blake Lively. Paps pictures of Mikasa sporting a huge diamond band on her finger has the rumor mills swirling. Some fans have been able to deduce the identity of her mysterious fiancé when she's seen with a fresh tattoo of the monogram letters R and B on the inside of her wrist, while Reiner has been spotted having the letters M and A tattooed on his.

Referencing to this post, prior to their wedding news, the moment Reiner appears on the cover of Men's Health Magazine with his nude pecs on full display, fans are finally able to confirm that he is Mikasa's mysterious husband-to-be based on the tattoos on his chest.

As soon as the news of their upcoming wedding was made official with the release of their official pre-wedding pictures, they legit broke the internet.

These two would spur fans to do a forensic on all past official promo, behind the scenes stills, making of & event images that would make people go, "Holy crap, the signs were all there!" If there's a mag cover caption best to describe the news, it'll be with "Married! When did it all even begin?"

Extremely Private Married Life

They had a closed, private wedding on a cruise ship in the summer. It was attended by fellow cast members and Mikasa & Reiner's other close celebrity friends.

Even after they're married, paps had a huge challenge trying to snap pictures of them together.

During the filming of the final season, Mikasa would be like Gal Gadot, filming her own stunts at 20 weeks of pregnancy. She was very persistent in not using a double. That even made Reiner sat restlessly on the sides whenever the cameras started rolling.

EDIT: The showrunners also decided to inject an indirect fan-service by featuring their characters right next to each other in the Final Season's official poster & key art for merchandise as they've been married & have given birth by the time the Final Season was ready to debut.

After her baby bump got too big and was getting a lot harder to cover, the production crew forced her to use a stunt double for long-shots.

When their twins were born, the new family had an exclusive feature with Harper's Bazaar. All proceeds from the rights purchase went straight to UNICEF.

The Executive Producer had setup the twins' college trust fund the moment the their names were officially announced by UNICEF on their website.

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

Thanks for the Ask, dear! ❤ I had loads of fun with this 😆

[fishmech]

The worst thing people think about the early web is that they think most of the users were making their own pages rather than most of the users simply reading things already on a page. Because that's the thing, most of the user base was passive consumers of the media placed before them. Which largely came from either a large business or a large educational institution - itself often essentially a business because many were private.

And then if they wanted to interact with that page they read? Usually you would have to email the author, and wait for them respond. Or for news sites and business and even many pages on educational institutions, wait for a sales or pr rep to respond. Sometimes you could exchange chat messages with them instead, but that often required just as much waiting for them to be online to be able to respond, or at least not busy with something else.

People love to pretend that there's less common user made content online then in the past but honestly the proportion that comes from everyday people vs professionals has never stopped increasing. It's just that we have this weird bias that "social media" and not having private subdirectories or subdomains or full domains makes it lesser than things that had their own.

Like the notion that say .edu/~username/index.htm or geocities.com/Area/Neighborhood/0000/ or username.domain is inherently more of a contribution, more of an act of creation than something at .com/post/99876543876447664332256/ or .com/username/status/189345917944610816

But the geocities account was just as much as say a Tumblr account, a free but small space granted on a massive corporation's servers with the goal of attracting investment and ad revenue from others. The small user directory on a college's servers was, as much as a set of tweets from someone average, just a place allocated within a large institution. and subject to arbitrary removal if the provider felt you were causing a problem!

And of course when you weren't riding on free allowances from corporations or large institutions, back then hosting your own site was massively more expensive. Especially when your little thing got noticed by a large group of other people - often merely hundreds or thousands would do it - and suddenly your content became unviewable forever more because your hosting demanded a massive payment for increased traffic or simply shut off access until the next billing period cuz you filled up your allotment. Popularity could cause sudden bills in the thousands of dollars to keep your little web thing going, and of course that's 90s dollars, or even early 2000s dollars, so it hit the wallet even harder.

And when that popularity hit on free hosting of course, you'd be equally likely to get kicked off the service or have your web presence throttled severely for daring to make something popular. Between free hosting booting you and paid hosting essentially holding sites ransom for high bills, tens of thousands of sites and pages got destroyed forever within days of hitting a large web portal or newsletter's site of the day/week/etc list.

And these frequent destructions of pages were part of why average people weren't into posting their own stuff on the web. Because they were afraid of the risks in putting in the work to make something when it might drop them into a heavy financial burden or deletion/blocking of said work.

That's before we get into the way you'd need fairly expensive equipment to be online or an organization on hand willing to provide it. The way that online access time was usually metered by the hour or minute, with "unlimited" monthly plans often being quite a bump in upfront cost each month. These factors heavily gated who could participate at all, and who could afford the time to actively create their own web content whether writing or art or sound etc. Lots of people developed workflows for getting the most efficient pattern of opening things they might want to read for the day and heading right back offline to save on billed time, preparing any such input as new emails or replies to a newsgroup while offline, to be sent in the most efficient manner in another short window of online time.

Naturally these habits took different forms in different situations. The person working in a networked office who would only really do online things during work hours and might not even have an internet connection at home. The people who had to go to the library for short blocks of internet time. College kids who might have free access in their dorm room or only at special facilities in various places on campus, which usually wouldn't be open 24/7 - the famous September phenomenon of internet usage jumping during the main semesters of North American college attendance that would fall off at major break periods and the summer. The random people who'd gotten a home internet connection but still had to budget access carefully. Really, it's all a lot more messy than the modern mode where the majority of the population has near constant access in some form!

[neomikey]

For June 2021's #ryukoprompt!  Time to go swimming!

I don't have a favorite “summer memory,” exactly.  However, I do remember growing up that summers were always a proper season book-ended by the end and start of the school years.  The weather grew warmer, I was relieved for three months of the obligation of going to school, and that time was spent hanging out with friends any day of the week, playing video games, and sometimes my parents would take us all somewhere for vacation.

Some place that was a staple of the summer, though, was the Hobart Community Pool, though we all just said “the Hobart Pool.”  As of this writing, it's 59 years old and is still in operation today, though they've added more from when I was a child.  Growing up through the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s, it was a basic pool – technically two – and we all loved it.

It was a meeting place, where you and everyone you knew were likely to bump into each other at some point in the summer.  All manner of people grouped there, from the young to the old.  We would spend hours there at the pool and the time always went by quicker than expected.

You passed through a wooden gate house, where you would show your membership or pay them.  The main area where the staff was had two large windows – one facing out to incoming customers and one facing in towards the main pools.  They had music playing there, pool supplies on the wall, and were generally easygoing.  All the staff were that I encountered.  You then passed through a gendered show area, where you could clean up and change, and then you were put out in front of the kiddie pool.

Almost no adults ever hung out in there.  The shallowest end of the pool was two feet deep, where the absolute beginners – regardless of age – could literally get their feet wet.  The pool deepened as you went further in, until you stood at one end where it just reached three feet.  There was no paint on that end to mark how deep it was, but I remembered as a kid being absolutely sure it was three feet, since the water went up to me the same amount when I was in the other pool.  I felt like a genius.

The other pool was the main pool, which is in the shape of a large L. The main rectangle went from three feet gradually down to five feet. Of course, this also meant that as you went deeper, the people swimming generally were older as well.  This pool was mainly where I and everyone else did our swimming.  In the middle was a huge water slide, and at the end deep in the five-foot section was a basketball hoop.  I remember my dad frequently playing over there.

The smaller rectangle of the L was the deep end – 12 feet – and was separated by a rope which no one was allowed to cross.  This was where the diving boards were.  Normally, the deep end was only for people using the diving boards, but oftentimes they would allow open swimming as well.  I remember being older and being able to get to the bottom, where I would stand and walk, simply because I could.   There were three diving boards.  Two of them were on the outside and were short, and the high-dive was in the middle.  I think it was two stories tall at the top.

Every hour they would blow a whistle, announcing that “adult swim” had started, meaning that the kids needed to get out, rest, and let the “old people” enjoy the whole pool to themselves.  I still remember the whistle blows they would do.  If I recall correctly, there would be three bursts, which were echoed by all the other lifeguards who heard it.  When it was time to go back in, they would do one long blow that would shift its intensity, mimicking how we would say “alley-oop!” when hoisting something heavy.

Adult swim was also when people would take the time to visit their cafe...though I use the word lightly. It was there to sell cheap food like candy, hotdogs, and soft drinks. It was also the place where I was introduced to banana Laffy Taffy, and to this day, I still love the stuff.  Park benches were set up in a lightly protected area, and I remember occasionally seeing curious wasps in that area.

The pool used to have a line of trees protecting it.  They were tall evergreen trees planted side by side, and did fantastic work blocking out the wind when it came from that direction.  However, eventually Hobart's hospital was built and they built a road right through what used to be a prairie to give it better access.  Part of the road's installation involved taking down those trees.  I didn't think they “needed” to, I thought there was plenty of room, but I'm sure there was some proper reason.  My friend Tim joked this was going to cause a lot of accidents.  He said guys were gonna be driving, see a hot lady in a bikini, and get distracted.

I have many memories from there.  Most good, some bad.  I loved being underwater and would frequently be under there.  My eyes would eventually hurt from the chlorine, but that was the price I willingly paid.  I would sometimes be underwater and swim through crowds of people.  I'm told I surprised a few of them, as they weren't expecting to suddenly see a child going past their feet.

My friends and I would frequently play there.  There would be light roughhousing, but it was mostly just swimming, playing, and laughing.  We would talk about or mimic stuff we had seen in video games.  I remember squirting a line of water out through my teeth and calling it a laser.  When we were allowed to swim in the deep end, I jumped off the side and brought my limbs close to my body, mimicking Iron Man in the Captain America and the Avengers arcade game. This always got me pretty deep pretty quickly.  Other times we would try out stuff, such as someone lying on the bottom, then someone else standing on their back to keep them there.  When the person on the bottom had to come up for breath, he would stand and topple the person on top over.  I remember back skin feeling really weird on my feet.

There was a way to swim during adult swim if you were a kid, and that was to pass the “Dolphin” exam.  You had to get from one end of the main pool, down the length, and to the other side.  You had to do it while swimming properly – freestyle – and had to go straight.  It was difficult for me to pass and I remember once skewing to the side and hitting the side of the pool near the water slide.  I failed that one.  I know I did pass it at least once and wore the Dolphin badge on my swim trunks with pride that summer.  

There was one incident where I thought I was older, mature, and brave enough to tackle the high dive.  I stood in line, ascended, and then once at the top, looked over the edge.  It was so, so far down and I couldn't bring myself to jump.  I remember some people calling up to me, telling me I wasn't allowed to climb down and I had to jump.  I appreciate them trying to motivate me to get over my fears, but it only made me more scared. Eventually, I climbed down and broke into tears.  My dad was there to comfort me as I came down and I told him I would never swim again. That turned out to be wrong.

When I was old enough to drive, I started going to the Hobart Pool on my own.  My whole life up to that point I had always gone there with someone and getting to be there on my own felt like another step into adulthood.  It was a nice feeling that if it was hot out and my parents were busy, I could hop in my vehicle and just go.

As time went on, my time wasn't as structured.  I was no longer in school, I had jobs, and held different interests where the pool didn't interest me as much.  Summers were no longer an event, but something in the background that meant we had to roll down the car windows.  I didn't have a need for membership to the Hobart Pool anymore, and it wasn't until years later after I was married that I realized how long it had truly been since I had gone swimming.

Once the pandemic is over, my wife and I agree – we're hitting the pools hard.

[rawiswhore]

Raven x Fem Reader- “I Like It Rough”

There's a word for people known as EGOT.

That term means someone who's won an Emmy award, Grammy, Oscar and Tony award.

Is there a word like that for wrestlers?

Because one wrestler has been in the big 5 of wrestling companies in the 90's and 2000's: the WWF/E, WCW, ECW, TNA and Ring of Honor.

Who is that wrestler?

Raven.

He changed his name and look he'll mostly always be remembered for when he was in a wrestling company known as ECW, a wrestling company remembered for being very violent, edgy, and hardcore, at least by some people who think that's what ECW was like.

Wrestlers bleeding profusely, getting smashed through tables, sometimes set on fire, and in more extreme cases...even being stabbed.

ECW wasn't the only violent wrestling company he was in.

Besides being in the WWF during the Attitude era and even having a stint in the WWE during the Ruthless Aggression era, he also was in TNA, which could also be very violent at times, and Ring Of Honor, which, again, could be really violent, especially in one match he was in with CM Punk.

Since he was in so many violent wrestling companies and bled profusely, you had an idea with him you shared.

You explained to him your idea with your words, and he grinned at your idea.

One day, sometime when he was playing his depressed grunge rocker character in ECW or even in WCW, or if it's Raven from TNA/Ring of Honor or even the WWE you want, when he had braids circa 2002 or when he had that blond hair in Ring of Honor or that black hair he had in TNA in 2004/2005, you were completely naked, pressing your back on a hotel room's bed with your legs wide open, while Raven was roughly pounding and thrusting your twat with his cock back and forth.

He was dressed in his grunge gear he wears in WCW/ECW, jeans cut off into shorts that reached his knees, combat boots, a flannel tied around his hips and a leather jacket, but he was getting hot under that leather jacket from fucking you, so he shed that jacket off of his arms.

That's a good thing, because you want to do something to his back later on.

If it's Raven in the WWE you want, he was dressed in his gear when he was in those companies, wearing his platinum blond hair in braids, shedding the jacket off of his arms and back and had no shirt under that jacket, and his kilt/skirt was pulled down at his ankles.

If it's Raven in TNA or Ring of Honor you want, he let his hair hang down, not tied in braids or in a ponytail, and he had a kilt or skirt pulled down to his ankles.

He didn't really have any face paint on like he wears in the WWE, TNA or Ring Of Honor.

He fucked you like an animal, shoving his dick in and out of your pussy fast and vigorously, one of his hands was behind your head, his fingers grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling it.

He didn't pull it violently, enough to pull your hair out of your head, but he did pull it quite a bit.

You wish one of your hands could grab onto the back of his thick, curly hair, even slide down through his hair, and maybe you can pretty soon.

His other hand was pulling one of your nipples, pulling and stretching it out.

His fingers pinched your nipple, but not too hard.

He isn't just pinching and pulling your nipple, but also tweaking and turning it.

Your nipples are very sensitive, and it feels so good when he plays with it.

The bed was rocking back and forth and creaking as he fucked you, hopefully the neighbors next door won't hear you and the bed won't bump into the wall so much a hole is made.

If y'wanna know what it's like to be fucked by Raven, or at least ECW/WCW/WWE/Ring of Honor/TNA Raven, this is what it's like.

Though, Raven's depressed grunge rocker character is very mellow and mopey, but also quite sociopathic.

When he was banging you, your tits were bouncing up and down, and his eyes were squinting and his teeth gritted as he was thrusting in and out of you.

You were moaning and crying out while he was fucking you, your eyes closed and your mouth wide open, sometimes biting on your bottom lip as he banged you.

Blood is filling your clitoris up in sexual arousal, and your pussy feels like it's getting wetter and wetter as he's fucking you.

You aren't faking this orgasm, no, he really is taking you higher and higher.

Your hands are trying to reach out and grab onto his back, so you can sink your fingernails into his flesh and scratch down his back.

Your fingers managed to touch his back, but you tried to make your hands and fingers slide up to the top of his back.

It's probably no use, really.

His hand on your nipple moved behind your back, trying to squeeze in between the space of the bed and your back.

When the tips of his fingers reached your back, despite having short, stubby fingernails, he tried to dig his fingernails into your flesh and scratch and slide them down your back.

You could feel his sharp little nails scratching down your back, although his fingernails aren't all that long.

Even though his fingernails weren't that long, he tried digging them deeper into your flesh, the tips of his fingernails poking into your skin.

Your teeth bit into the bottom of your lip when he dug his fingernails into your flesh.

He leaned himself further into your body, until his face was close enough to touch your neck.

He slightly buried himself in the side of your neck, his face pressing on your neck, where his teeth bit a small portion of the skin on your neck.

He proceeded to press his teeth on that part of your skin, biting your skin.

He didn't just bite your skin, but suck on your skin as well.

You can feel his breath while he breathes heavily from fucking you, as well as feel his sweaty torso on your body.

When he's biting your neck, he's marking his territory, telling you he's yours.

Since he's lying on top of you slightly, now is your chance!

You placed your hands behind his back, your fingernails poking into his back.

You dug and sunk your long fingernails into his skin and slid those nails down his back, the tips of your nails poking into his flesh.

He could feel your nails dragging down his back, scratching and poking his skin, creating visible scratch marks in his back.

Even though running his fingers down his back can be a part of rough sex, what happens if he wrestles and people see the scratches on his back?

Ah well, he can cover his scratches up with a T-shirt, especially if the Raven you want to read about in this fanfic is ECW/WCW era Raven who mostly wore a shirt in the ring.

Some could say Raven is the Kurt Cobain of wrestling, his WCW entrance theme was even a knockoff of Nirvana's "Come As You Are", and there's this photo of a shirtless Kurt flexing his muscles and you can see his back covered in scratches, perhaps from Courtney Love dragging her nails down his back.

Wonder if the scratches you'll make down Raven's back will be visible and won't fade away for weeks?

As Raven penetrates and pounds his cock into you, he's making you feel higher and higher on the inside, and you keep making high pitched, staccato like moans when he bangs you.

You feel like your clit is about to burst, and pretty soon, your twat creamed all over his cock inside of you, your clitoris throbbing after you had came.

Although, it isn't over until Raven cums.

When you came, it made it easier for his dick to slide back and forth inside your twat.

While scratching his back is fine, you want to do other things to Raven besides run your fingers down his back.

One of your hands slid up from his back to the back of his head, where you slid your fingers down and through his hair.

Since you're having rough sex with him and he's grabbing onto your hair, your fingers grabbed onto his hair.

If it's WWE Raven you want, you wrapped your fingers around his hard braids.

Raven's WCW/ECW era hair was so thick and coarse, his TNA/ECW era hair was slick and easy for your fingers to slide through, and his WWE braids were rough and hard.

You pulled onto his hair gently, but not hard.

He could feel your hand pulling his hair, feeling it on his scalp, but you weren't trying to hurt him.

Meanwhile, he's bit and sucked your neck for a long time, so he let that part of your neck he was sucking free, leaving behind a huge, reddish pink hickey with his bite marks engraved in your neck.

His cock is filling up your pussy, his shaft stretching your tight cunt walls apart.

You wish that you could nibble and bite on his flat, broad nose while he fucks you, and maybe you can.

He wishes he could flip you around, lay you on his thighs and spank you, that would be something to increase this rough sex you're engaging in.

"Ohhh God, Raven!!" you cried for him. "Harder!! FUCK ME HARDER!!!"

He increased the pace of his thrusts, fucking you faster.

He's been fucking you fast so much, you're afraid the tip of his dick will break the space that has your uterus behind.

He also has a rather large and thick penis.

As he's fucked you roughly, his skin was getting hotter and warmer, and he's even sweating a little bit from fucking you so fast.

His heart is beating faster from fucking you so fast, and even your heart is beating faster from him fucking you.

"I-I'm gonna cum!!!!" he cried out.

He suddenly made a throaty groan and jizzed inside your twat, his eyes shutting tight when he had came.

A few seconds after he had came, he breathed heavily, like he was finished with a wrestling match, and slowly pulled his dick out of your pussy.

The tip of his penis dripped his seed onto the carpet, and his cum as well as a mixture of yours was leaking out of your pussy hole onto the bed.

Since Raven has done "dog collar matches", where he and another wrestler have dog collars wrapped around their necks and they're attached to a huge silver chain, you did think of wearing a collar and having a chain/leash where Raven pulls it while he fucks you.

Though, that's a little bit dangerous, and autoerotic asphyxiation can kill you.

_______________________________________________________________

Dean Ambrose and CM Punk used to do some hardcore wrestling, Dean did really hardcore wrestling when he was in CZW, and I've thought of typing Dean Ambrose during his CZW days and late 2000's CM Punk in this fic so the fem reader can choose either Dean, CM Punk or Raven.

Y'all would rather choose Dean or CM over Raven, no doubt...

[meerhummal]

No Fans, Empty Stands

Fan’s encouragement affects player performances, every sport is complete with fans, who really make sports mean something

Image via Unsplash

Having an enormous crowd in your support will obviously set you on fire, that’s how important fans are to numerous sports. The noise they create the atmosphere they generate and the coordinated mass mentality of them sometimes is unbelievable, Fans are really crucial part to a football team as Scottish Jock Stein said “Football without fans is noting” is actually a term where a number of players agree with.

Existence of fans change football stadiums into magical places to make the heart sour and also transforms the game. Their engagement, banners, chants, anthems, slogans and reactions to the game truly motivates athletes, In fact players are always prepared to present their best versions in front of them, during a 90 minutes game many ups and downs pass through but fans keep on applauding players in that time, sometimes when the home team is leading and dominating the game it’s really enjoyable for players who try to maintain that rhythm and keep pushing hard to win the game, However if sometimes you’ve conceded a goal and gone behind thinking of a comeback; this is where the fans can raise you up.

A study by the times has shown that home teams score more goals rather than away teams (approximately 37% more) because the home fans expects them to go out and attack and players do fulfil their expectations, Also noted that the referee will probably take decisions in favor of the team who has got a huge and loud crowd backing them. Players always try to find inventive ideas to entertain the audience by showing their agility, magical footwork, spectacular finishing and also “signature moves” after scoring a goal and this is how beautiful football is with fans in the stands.

In an imaginary world the thought is almost impossible for football lovers to watch or play football without fans in a stadium, Meanwhile football associations all around the world had suspended footballing events because of the spread of coronavirus pandemic in Mid-March of 2020, In England all Premier League, EFL, WSL, FAW football and European leagues were postponed till April, in the view of fact that matches played in February and March assisted the spread of COVID-19 as more people contracted coronavirus while attending football matches in stadiums this resulted rise in cases and deaths which later announced utmost caution ought to be applied on reopening of football events, it wasn’t only a peril for fans but players as well in the stadium.

Following stats display the confirmed cases by number of matches played in March:

How pandemic affected football

After a severe first spell of covid-19 football was set to restart in June and all the matches according to the rules and restrictions would be played behind closed doors. It was not what everyone needed but many clubs had already suffered enough financial crisis, a restart was must needed for them but the fans were only bounded to screens and live commentaries to enjoy the relaunch of football.

Coronavirus entirely changed football as new on-pitch rules were applied to the resumption such as 5 substitutions during 90 minutes, no handshakes neither hugs before and after the game, no spitting anywhere, football being sanitized and players weren’t allowed to exchange jerseys after 90 minutes. That’s not it! Rules were also applied off the pitch for players and management like social distancing inside dressing rooms and on benches, sitting in the kit-rooms and on the benches with facemasks on, pre-game and post-match interviews were managed with pyle microphone pole, minimize close contact between all people during pre-match warm-ups and less interaction with match officials and away team players after the game.

It made viewers feel something tedious about the game; things were missing in those 90 minutes, goal celebrations were limited to smiles, usual fist or elbow bumps, fingers pointing sky, knee slides and thumbs-up from face masked substitutes to whoop it up.

Playing without Fans

Image via Las Angeles Times

Crowdless games make you feel like watching training or a showmatch in ground with clear noises of players interacting and guiding each other though “Performing” might be difficult for lads without hearing the roar of thousand fans on first whistle and no one in stands to boost player’s energy in last quarter of the game they have to be self-motivated throughout the game. Football pundits also claim that dearth of fans in stadium might affect player’s focus and even efforts during the game, but yet there are few benefits for players while having no fans around them such as less fear of lose mainly playing in front of public which might help them to play a bit relax because those hundreds of eyes won’t be watching them, it is also helpful for defenders if their team conceded a goal because of a tactical mistake.

The atmosphere when players walk out of the tunnel hanging high-fives of fans for players, emerging colorful smoke and flares in stands, raining splashing beer when goal has been scored, hugging strangers in jollity, jumping on seats, exchanging crisp high-fives between fans was absent somewhere in that adversity. As Chelsea striker Olivier Giroud told ESPN. "It is really strange at first, and then you try to get used to it. It has less charm to play with no fans. Also, the pitch feels much bigger with no fans in the stadium! It is crazy to say because it is the same pitch, but it does feel bigger! But at least the managers are happy because now we can hear easily everything they tell us, even when they don't shout!

It was actually difficult to judge how good the game was with no noise you dribble pass two defenders and produce a wonderful pass, hit the crossbar or score a stunner but it feels like nothing happened! An awkward silence all over the stadium and this is the moment where you realize how vital the presence of fans is.

Watching El Clasico, London derbies, Merseyside derby, rivalries and Champions league football without fans nearly made football lovers cry, recently witnessing the GOAT’s of football Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo competing each other in Champions league after a long period since CR7 left Spanish football (La Liga) was held behind closed doors as well.

Virtual Crowd

Image via gettyimages

After attempts of bringing fans back the governing bodies realized it is a pure danger of contracting the virus again. Here! The idea of fake fans (virtual crowd) was brought in, the art of virtual crowd was landed to upgrade watching experiences for viewers watching from screens and sound option with slogans and continuous buzzing noise which might work for players too.

The British and German broadcasters were first to try it out, the auto made reactions at the key moments of match was just a try to give it an original feel. Fan’s faces on the cardboard cut outs were also previewed, fans were allowed to purchase cardboards and upload their pictures on it through this the stands were filled once again but this time with immobilized fans.

Financial crisis of Football Clubs

Every day passed without fans this season football leagues lost more than a hundred millions resulting damage to both local and national economy, this also affects the employment prospect as hundred thousand plus employer’s duties rely on matchday activities.

Financial troubles to any club is a worst nightmare for its supporters. Due to the outbreak fans weren’t allowed to visit stadiums which clarifies that no amount earned through parking tickets, food and merchandise, additionally no revenue generated from inside stadium sponsorships.

Top flight football club Arsenal has also struggled monetarily firing around 150 staff members during the hard time of pandemic the club was able to pull through and continue because of the sponsorships they had, and many other big names as well handle it with pay cuts of player’s salary.

Houseful stadiums again?

Image via ecnmy.org

After all tough periods in nine months, players and viewers were desperate to see spectators coming back in the stands to cheer respective teams, it means alike victory for government’s fight against coronavirus, although due to the restrictions all football clubs weren’t allowed to bring fans back but some major teams were fortunate enough to have loving fans back.

According to the orders only 2000 spectators were allowed to attend games inside of stadiums, which was on “first come, first served” criteria, covering more than a half of the capacity of stadium.

Fans still have to obey the rules given by the government: Facemasks must be worn while whirling around but not on seats, No away team supporters were allowed, Sanitizing at stations inside the ground, Singing and chanting was allowed but no physical contact, fans cannot confront, social distancing while sitting on seats and strict stewards to look after the fans whoever breaks any rule will be thrown out.

This is for sure the beginning to fill the stands with crowd and catch the joy back once again, at least now when the ball hits the post the crowd reactions will be at that moment, not after few seconds like virtual technology used to have. Through all this situations one thing displayed clearly that how much you train or build yourself, “You still need cheers or people backing you to hit the stage with an astonishing performance”.

[chxoticmuses]

SHIP QUESTIONS THINGY

Status: Accepting

@streetsofsecrets​ said: our ships?? 🥺 ( Rose & Jerrold )

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?: Rose was housesitting and babysitting for the Scozzaris while they were on a trip and Nick brought Jerrold over one day.

What was their first impression of each other?: She didn’t think much of him at first. They never really talked since she was always focused on Cassandra, but the more vocal he started being with his crush the more annoying he became to her.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?: Violet thought he was a pretty nice guy and pushed Rose into giving him at least a chance or getting to know him. I feel like Minnie would encourage Rose to get with him too if she ever spoke about him with her. Probably even set them up on a date.

Who felt romantic feelings first?: Obvously, it was Jerrold.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?: For like the longest, and I’m talking about years, Rose denied any feelings she had for him. She was always torn between thinking that he was too nice for her or that he was disgustingly sweet.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?: I feel like Jerrold would believe it in heartbeat listing off all the reasons and evidence that he had to support that statement. While Rose on the other hand would be a little skeptical, but until lately agree since they did end up together after everything.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?: Technicalky both of them? Jerrold was the one who was like “Hey, do you want to be a thing?” And Rose was the one who confirmed it and actually put the boyfriend and girlfriend title to them.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?: Their first official first date didn’t happen until their adult years, but even then they decided to have some fun with it and go to this club that was like a restaurant and bar in one. They talked the whole night away reminiscing on memories and about their personal lives. It was a perfect environment for them, it was tame enough to not make Rose go crazy and she was so loosened up by the end of the night that he was able to convince her to come dance with him on the dance floor.

What was their first kiss like?: Rose was the one who initiated. They were sitting on the porch of her house together talking for a while. They were silent for a while, not knowing what tot all about next since they had talked about everything they could, so she seized the opportunity and pulled him in for a kiss. 100/10. The best kiss she’s ever had and she’s kissed a lot of people.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?: I think he deserves the title of being her first healthy relationship.

What’s their height difference? Age difference?: It’s not really a big one, she’s up to at least his shoulders but it’s still a noticeable one. As for age, she’s older than him by a couple of years. Yeah, she’s a cougar like that.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?: Errrm, I feel like neither of their families are really involved with their relationship like that. Rose’s family likes him a lot which is saying a lot since they usually hate everyone she brings home.

Who takes the lead in social situations?: Rose. She’s a lawyer, she just has to.

Who gets jealous easier?: Hmmm, the both of them seem like the jealous type to me. Rose sometimes gets scared that he’ll find someone better than her and leave her. When they were younger and he would be interested in anyone but her she would also get jealous, but try and brush it off. I can see him kinda lingering in the background, or either right next to her, staring someone down if they were talking to her in a way he deemed to be too flirty for his liking.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?: Surprisingly it was Rose. Not only does those words not come easy to her at all, but you would expect him to say it first after running after her all these years. They were sitting together one day and out of the blue she got the sudden urge to tell him that she loved him and so she did!

What are their primary love languages?: Touch! They’re always expressing their love for each other through touches. Whether it be a quick hand hold or a lingering hug, they’re always touching each other in some way.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?: Piggybacking of the last question thingy, they’re always touching each other in some way so PDA is a very common thing for them. Whether they’re standing there with their arms wrapped around each other’s or playfully repeatedly kissing each on the lips, they’re always just being affectionate with each other in public.

What are their favorite things to do together?: Dance! They dance in the kitchen while cooking, out of happiness when Rose wins a case, or for fun on date nights out.

Who’s better at comforting the other?: Jerrold is 100% better at comforting Rose. She tries her best, but genuinely comforting someone and showing affection outside of romance really isn’t her thing. He knows just what to say to talk her out of her moods or through her withdrawals.

Who’s more protective?: Jerrold. Rose is always getting herself into some type of drama or situation and he’s usually the one to save her or settle it for her. She’s a reckless person and he really worries for her.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?: Physcial all the way. Rose will barf on herself before she’s able to get any verbal affection out of her mouth. She just can’t do it, but she’s working on it for him. But for right now they’re a very physical couple.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?: All those R&B songs from the 90s/early 2000s that all our mamas be bumping.

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?: I feel like he’s the one with all the silly and creative nicknames while she just settles with Jerri or something simple like sweetie.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?: It was Rose, but it wasn’t really a proposal. She just proposed the idea of getting married to him and they decided to go through with it.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?: Rose didn’t want a big wedding at all so they stalled for a courthouse elopement with just the two of them present. Afterwards they had a big dinner and invited all their friends and family over.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?: I put them into a generator and at first it said triplets and immediately I was like “No!” Because there’s no way Rose would be able to handle that even with Jerrold’s help. So, I did it again and it gave them a baby boy! I feel like they would have just one since they’re already kinda older, unless they had a whoospie when they were younger. BUT, I feel like Rose would try to follow the flower theme and name him something like Aster or Cypress, but then decide like halfway through the pregnancy that those are ugly names and let Jerrold name him. He’s such a geeky kid that bursting with creativity and of course, spoiled to death by his parents. He really takes over his parents’ true identities and not the ones that they present to everyone else like the reckless lawyer or comical hitman.

Do they have any pets?: Pearla ISNT going anywhere any time soon and if she ever had offspring Rose would keep them too. But for a more family friendly pet I feel like they would get a cute little puppy.

Who’s the stricter parent?: Hmmmm, I think both of them are on the same level. They’re pretty chill and understanding parents since they didn’t have the best growing up and don’t want to reflect that, BUT they know when to step up and be parents and scold their children.

Who kills the bugs in the house?: Rose. They make her skin crawl, but she’s not scared of them. She’ll usually take care of them when she sees them.

How do they celebrate holidays?: Usually together at home. Rose will take the day off and spend the whole day snuggled up with him on the couch watching holiday themed movies. Sometimes they get invited to parties and they’ll go or even throw parties of their own if they’re feeling it.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?: Both of them. Someone’s alarm will go off and they’ll both move to turn it off so they can have more time together in bed cuddled up.

Who’s the better cook?: I feel like the both of them can cook really well…..but Rose is just a tad bit better because she’s always been a naturally good cook.

[bakudomaster]

Charmed (1998)

Greetings to one and all! I meant to do this post a lot earlier but it’s been a busy week here. Never the less, it is time for another in-depth analysis and this time... something Wicca this way comes....

[Hear now the words of the witches, the secrets we hid n the night]

PREMISE

In the fall of 1998, approximately 7.7 million American television sets were blessed to witness the coming of the Charmed Ones, three sisters in San Francisco who discovered their destiny as witches. Though they have their differences, they must overcome them and band together to fight the forces of evil and save innocent people from the clutches of all the things that go bump in the night (in San Francisco).

Sound familiar? More on that a bit later on, let’s first meet our coven *whispers* in San Francisco

CAST & CHARACTERS

If I had to include every major character on the show, this post will be as big as the Book of Shadows, hence I’m only concentrating on our main coven and listing the rest

Shannen Doherty as Prudence “Prue”Halliwell - the eldest sister of the family, Prue is a force to be reckoned with, both in civilian and magical terms. She quickly stepped up when her mother died, doing whatever she could to provide and protect for her two sisters. She’s very level headed, practical and icy upon first impression, but melt through that and you’ll discover a very sensitive and kind woman. Prue inherited the family gift of telekinesis and grew to develop astral projection. Over time, she grew to accept that life isn’t all that serious, quitting her job at an auction house to become a full time photographer and devoting her spare time to being the Wiccan powerhouse amongst the siblings. Sadly, she died in her third year of being a witch, falling victim to a demonic assassin.

Holly Marie Combs as Piper Halliwell - the initial middle sister, Piper Halliwell was the poster child for anxiety that went with living in the late 90s/early 00s, owning a nightclub; and oh year - being a witch. Suitably, she inherited the power of freezing time, which she used defensively to escape from tough situations (how cool was that sound every time she used this power? Whoooooh!). Love and magic gave Piper the confidence and grit she needed, with her gaining the power of molecular combustion, also known as ‘blowing shit the fuck up’), which she used to great effect against the baddies. She is the heart of the Halliwell family, even after Prue died, often acting as mediator with the various quarrels that inevitably came up when living with siblings. She went on to become a mother, a wife and a restaurant owner; but always put the importance of saving innocents above all else.

Alyssa Milano as Phoebe Halliwell - the wild child of the family, Phoebe was a teenage rebel, leaving the family to move to New York before the series began. Moving back with her sisters due to money issues, she discovered the famous Book of Shadows and read the incantation that changed their lives forever. Taking to magic like a duck to water, she took on the role of magical research and go to witch before heading back to college in 2000 and finishing up her Bachelor’s degree. After her big sister died, Phoebe got bumped up to middle sister and had to show her long lost half sibling the Wiccan ropes. She has had a LOT of boyfriends a colorful & enthusiastic love life, but always remembered that her sisters are the true loves of her life. Going on to become an advice columnist, she started to take San Francisco by storm and became a bit of a celebrity.

Rose McGowan as Paige Matthews - the secret sibling, she was the product of a love affair between her witch mother Patty (same one as the other three) and her whitelighter (guardian angel). Such a romance was forbidden, hence Paige was given up for adoption at birth to protect her and her sisters from repercussions. When Prue died, she felt drawn to the Halliwells and soon discovered her family heritage. In my opinion, Paige was the most organic of the sisters: while she was enthusiastic about magic, she often felt weirded out due to having to reconcile her Muggle upbringing with her magical identity on top of connecting with sisters she had no idea existed. Paige’s desire to help others led her to quit her job as a social worker and move full time into magic, taking on various roles as witch, Magic School headmaster and finally whitelighter.

Other major characters included:

Andy Truedeau - a police detective & Prue’s childhood sweetheart. He is very suspicious of how the sisters keep popping up in his cases. Played by Ted King

Darryl Morris - Andy’s partner and the sister’s secret keeper, he protects the sisters from police scrutiny and gets them to help out with a few cases on the way. Played by Dorian Gregory

Leo Wyatt - a handyman the sisters hired to repair the house, he’s secretly a whitelighter sent to look after them. He would eventually fall in love and start a family with Piper. Played by Brian Krause

Cole Turner - San Francisco’s Assistant District Attorney, he catches Phoebe’s eye. Secretly a half demon sent to kill the sisters, he eventually quits the demon life and shacks up with Phoebe. At least, at first... Played by Julian McMahon

Patricia ‘Patty’ Halliwell - the mother of all four sisters, she divorced her husband Victor and had an affair with her whitelighter Sam. She died soon after Paige was born. She had the same freezing power as Piper. Played by Finola Hughes

Penelope ‘Penny’ Halliwell - Patty’s mother and grandmother, she’s had as many husbands as Phoebe’s had boyfriends. Snarky, powerful and fiercely protective of her family; she had telekinesis like Prue did. Her death kicked off the series. Played by Jennifer Rhodes

Victor Bennet - the father of Prue, Piper and Phoebe, he and Patty had a tumultuous marriage. After her death, he clashed with Penny over custody and whether to raise the girls as witches or not. He left the girls in their grandmother’s care, leaving some daddy issues abound, especially for Prue. He reconnects with them as the series goes on. Played by James Read

[Check back for part 2!]

[artistic-writer]

Sparking the Pavement :: CS Moto GP AU :: E

Title: Sparking the Pavement by @artistic-writer Rating: E (eventually) Summary: Killian Jones has everything he has ever dreamed of.  He likes fast bikes and even faster women, that is until almost losing his brother makes him rethink his life choices.  And then a chance encounter with a blonde bombshell on the race track gives him the chance to change and find love, but as usual, team politics get in the way and for the first time in his life, Killian can’t just get what he wants.  Moto GP racing AU. A/N: Ch 2! Sorry for the delay guys, my real life has been a bit...stressful to say the least, but here it is! Much thanks to @hollyethecurious who agreed to beta this, and to @doodlelolly0910 who regularly listens to me ranting about wanting to write when my fingers don’t want to work.

Taglist: @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @initiala @cocohook38 @branlovesouat @teamhook @snidgetsafan @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @wingedlioness @lenfaz @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin @deathbycaptainswan @onceuponaprincessworld @chinawoodfan  @seriouslyhooked @snowbellewells @wordsmith-storyweaver @jennjenn615 @delightfully-difficult-pirate @doodlelolly0910 @tiganasummertree @hookedmom @thejollyroger-writer @rachie1940 @unworried-corsair @cs-forlife @notoriouscs @killian-whump @darkcolinodonorgasm @mariakov81 @strangestarlighttree 

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Emma Swan had endured. Her life had been a rollercoaster of ups and downs beginning with the death of her mother when she was just five years old, something that set her father into a protective frenzy. She could barely breathe with how much he loved her, not letting her out of his sight for even a second. Emma woke up, she went to school, and she came home. Anything else in between was always under her father’s watchful eye down to every minute of the day.

Emma’s family were the Nolan’s and they had carved their name out in the motorcycle world by making some of the best quality crash helmets any racer could own since 1988. David Nolan had started the company after his twin brother, James, had been killed during the famous Isle of Man Tourist Trophy race. The TT, as it is known, is one of the most dangerous motorcycle races in the world, having taken the lives of over two hundred riders since it began in 1907. James’ helmet had been poor quality, the impact of his head with the asphalt at such a high-speed something he would never recover from.

David and James had a bond, a twin bond, that was severed the instant James’ heart had stopped. David had been unable to fly to the Isle of Man that week because of Emma’s school commitments, but he knew the second his brother had died without even so much as a phone call. The TT is one of the most gruelling road races of its kind. Thirty-eight miles of winding roads around the island that have killed both riders and spectators because of the unpredictability of the circuit, weather, and unmaintained terrain, and now James was just another statistic.

High velocity impact trauma resulting in death. That was how her uncle died, officially, on paper. Emma remembers that day like it was yesterday because it hadn’t been long after her mother’s death. Her father’s soul already crushed from the loss of his wife, she wasn’t sure he could take anymore, so she let him smother her for a time, knowing that it was all that was keeping him going. The Nolan crash helmet company was founded some months later and it gave David a renewed sense of purpose that he needed more than anything.

Emma, on the other hand, although happy for her father, was lost. She wasn’t like other girls. Her whole life she had been allowed to do whatever she liked, as long as it was safe, but that wasn’t what Emma wanted. She wanted excitement, thrills, action, and so, through contacts her family company had made in the business, she began riding motorbikes.

It was exhilarating. The wind in her hair as it pulled strands from beneath her leathers and whipped at the shaded visor of her helmet. The way her spine shook as she leaned over the fuel tank, the vibrations of the engine shaking every bone in her body, and the way her heart beat in time with the movement of the pistons between her legs. It was everything Emma had wanted, her escape, her refuge, and when road bikes became too mundane, she set her sights on bigger prizes.

It didn’t take Emma long to get her foot on the racing ladder. She dropped her father’s name a few times, his prestige enough for people to take her seriously when, as a tiny, blonde haired wisp of a woman, she had guaranteed her abilities to some of the sponsors. And she was as good as she promised, at first in small time with the odd race here or there when she could slip away from her father’s protective net he had cast around her life.

But she was a one of a kind and it quickly became evident just how brilliant Emma Nolan was.

She changed her name, without telling her father, to continue to soar under his radar. Emma knew that it wouldn’t be long before somebody in the racing world put two and two together and realised, that with the surname Nolan, she was David’s daughter. She changed it to Swan in the late 90’s and continued to race her way through the ranks just like she had dreamed of.

The world of motorcycle racing is not like any other sport on the planet. It is unique in the fact that there is no gender split, or prejudice, and both men and women race on equal terms. It’s unusual to see many women in the sport, and Emma wanted to change that. The lowest class, Moto3, was a breeze. The small engines were no match for Emma’s ability, her weight distribution almost perfect because of her size against the power of the 125cc engine, and soon she was being headhunted for Moto2 before she even had a title under her belt.

Everybody wanted a piece of Emma Swan. She was approached by no less than four different teams in 2000, all wanting to represent who they felt would be the first female MotoGP championship winner. It had never been done before, and whilst Emma couldn’t wait to rise up to the next level in the Grand Prix competition, she never would.

Ducati, another big name in the race scene, decided to offer Emma the best incentive for her abilities. They were also one of the only teams to not use Nolan helmets for all their riders, so Emma’s secret would be hidden for a while longer. She wasn’t scared of her father finding out, but she wanted to be in the top ranks before he did, because then there would be no way back for her and he would have to support her. Maybe it was a little bit like blackmail, but Emma knew her father wouldn’t be able to cut her career short if she was so invested.

Ducati already had an established team of riders, and even though they were not winning big in 1999, their two front runners had won them enough to stay just above last place. Neal Cassidy and Oswald ‘Oz’ Walsh were the one/two riders for Ducati, and the season had just ended when Emma was signed. The second the guys laid eyes on their new team mate they were impressed with both her beauty and her talent, and when she gave them both the flirtatious cold shoulder, they were smitten. That was, until pre-trial times showed that Emma was consistently faster than Walsh and the team decided to bump him to third rider status before the season had even begun.

The team that Ducati announced for the 2000 season was Neal Cassidy and Emma Swan and it wasn’t long before Ducati was a team up in the top tier of Moto2 once more, and it wasn’t long before, in the thrill of winning, Emma and Neal became an item. Neal was more than just her teammate. He had become Emma’s first love, sharing every win with her, celebrating in both the pit lane and in the privacy of their trailers. It was whirlwind by romance standards and in the buzz, Emma was blindsided by Walsh’s growing greed right under her nose.

Before long, Emma was at one with the bike given to her by her team, and was surpassing Cassidy in every race. Cassidy was becoming second to not only his second rider, but also his girlfriend, something that did not escape the attention of Walsh. He had never had a problem coming second to Cassidy and was happy to take the second seat. He still got paid, he was still making money from sponsors, but when Emma started winning, less and less people knew his name.

Walsh wanted to be back where he was. His revenue was drying up and where other people were being offered contracts for the next season, he was not. No one came knocking on his door, no one was calling his cell phone, and the only way he was going to get his name back out there, was if Emma wasn’t racing anymore. She was Ducati’s top rider and if Walsh wanted to be back in the team’s good graces, something had to be done.

--

“Think about it,” Walsh whispered into the shell on Neal’s ear as the music around them throbbed out its beat. “I’m just saying-”

“I know what you’re saying,” Neal snapped, a little irritated. Walsh had been going on and on about getting his second seat back all night and it was starting to wear Neal’s nerves thin.

“Then listen to what I’m saying,” Walsh added, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “If she can’t race then that means we can.”

Neal studied his fellow rider with a raised eyebrow. “Obviously,” Neal said with a roll of his eyes. He rolled his fingers over the cold outside of the tumbler glass he was caressing idly, the drink inside starting to warm under his touch. “That’s how race politics work, Oz.”

“Don’t you miss it?” Walsh continued eagerly, leaning forward over the grubbing dive bar table between them. “The crowds chanting your name, the feeling you get when they wave that chequered flag for you.”

Neal gave Walsh a sideways sneer and snorted a laugh through his nose. “How would you know what that feels like?”

Walsh ground his teeth in frustration, his fist balling beside his now empty glass. “I’m just saying-”

“Damn it, Oz, I know what you are saying!” Neal roared. The bar fell silent, all eyes on the two men huddled in the corner for a few seconds before resuming its usual activity none the wiser.

“Do you hear me though?” Walsh insisted desperately.

“Loud and clear,” Neal scoffed. He threw his head back and poured the last remaining remnants of his drink into his mouth, swallowing the tiny amount with disappointment. “What do you propose?”

Walsh grinned, his teammate’s attention full grabbed. “You know these piss tests they make us take?” He nodded eagerly. Neal glanced his way with a narrowed stare. “You can’t race without a clean result, right?”

Neal laughed in the back of his throat, a grunt escaping his mouth. “You know as well as I do, Emma would never jeopardize the chance to race.”

“Not willingly.” Walsh’s words drew Neal’s full attention, his tongue tracing the point of his canine.

“Go on,” Neal nodded.

“The next two races are back to back, so there is no time in between to celebrate a win properly. At the next race, you let Emma win,” Walsh continued quickly, his finger drawing insignificant lines along the dark surface of the table.

“No one lets Emma Swan win,” Neal laughed.

“And then, during the after party, she drinks too much, fails the piss test and you and I get a seat upgrade.” Walsh’s grin was pure elation, like a chimp with a banana.

“Emma would never drink before a race,” Neal said definitely, waving a finger at the barman for another drink.

“Not intentionally,” Walsh shrugged. “But maybe her boyfriend can persuade her to take a sip.” His hand dug into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. He pressed it to the table, sliding it across to Neal who eyed it suspiciously before lifting one of the flaps and spying the small pill inside. It was oval in shape, chalky and would easily disappear into the bubbles of a celebratory glass of champagne.

“Maybe I can,” Neal agreed in a small voice, a grin spreading over his features as he screwed the paper back up in his palm.

--

It wasn’t a plan that Neal thought they could get away with, but it did appeal to him. Neal had already been approached by Ducati’s MotoGP division for the next season, depending on how he finished his current season. So the real question was, did he want to race alongside his friend, who he knew he could beat and would win a title easily, or his girlfriend, who was a far better rider than he ever would be? The plan was simple and his only role would be getting Emma to partake in his drink. She would never have one of her own but she might be tempted by a charismatic smile and a boyish wink from her boyfriend. And she was.

After winning the mid-season race in first place, the team threw a party for her success and Emma was more than happy to attend, sipping bottled water for the entire evening. The next race was the very next day, a gruelling mid-season back to back that tested the limits of every rider on the track. A race was physically and mentally demanding on every rider, so Emma had established early in her career that she would do her utmost to ensure victory each time.

If only she was as strong as she thought she was.

Emma trusted too easily and it was perhaps her biggest flaw in character, something she had inherited from her mother. Walsh had approached them with two glasses, handing one to Neal with a slight nod. A kind face and a smile from Neal was all she needed to lift the glass to her lips and take a sip of the bubbling champagne, a celebratory tipple Neal said she deserved. It tasted good, fizzing on her tongue, but when she swallowed there was an aftertaste of something she didn’t recognise. She had searched her boyfriend’s face for an answer, but it became blurred through the haze of her eyes and the next thing Emma remembered was her disqualification from the next race.

Heartbroken didn’t describe how she felt. Rules were rules, and somehow, despite two extra tests that she insisted on, Emma’s urine analysis said that she was under the influence of drugs. It was impossible. Emma didn’t do drugs. She was a highly tuned athlete; she ran, she swam, she cycled and barely even drank alcohol. And then it all came back to her in a flash of blinding white light.

Walsh had handed Neal the drink. Neal had persuaded her to take a sip.

Before Emma had time to confront them both about how they had sabotaged her, there was an accident. Neal had taken the first rider spot, her rightful place, and Walsh had taken second, but in his arrogance had managed to high side his bike not even halfway through the race. A twist of his wrist had increased his acceleration out of the corner too quickly, his back wheel losing traction before suddenly regaining it again, the torque along the bike’s axis enough to throw Walsh clean over the handlebars.

He would have survived, had he not held onto the throttle, wrenching his shoulder out of its socket and rendering it useless. His limb flopped around as he had flown through the air, landing on the asphalt head first with an almighty thud right into the path of his own bike. Walsh had no chance. The motorbike was still at full speed and his leatherbound ragdoll body was no match for the force applied to it on impact.

Walsh’s death didn’t matter to Emma, but it did to the team. They needed a second rider to finish the season and when asked, Emma said she would have to think about it. First, she wanted to confront Neal, her so-called boyfriend, about how and why he and Walsh had felt it prevalent to wreck her chances at a championship title. She got it.

“No one remembers second place, and I sure as hell ain’t coming second to you. When the season is over, the only name people will be chanting from the stands is Cassidy. Not Swan.”

The more Emma listened to him the more she realised what kind of man her boyfriend was. He was small and manipulative and he would even stoop so low as to blame a dead man, insinuating that Walsh was responsible for her disqualification during the last race. His true colours showed on his face, in his excusatory words, and Emma was nothing if not good at reading people.

She could spot a scumbag a mile away, and Neal was definitely that.

Even worse, he looked her dead in the eye and told her that no one would believe her. It was her word against his and he wasn’t saying a word that might jeopardize his race career.

Emma never raced professionally after that.

It took her two years to find her passion again. Emma felt cheated by the racing world and turned her back on it, but the bug never left her. There was something missing in her life. It was more than a want, it was a basic need to be going fast again. A need to feel the engine against her thighs and her chest pressed against the fuel tank again, body as flat as it could be so that there was almost no wind resistance to slow her down.

Emma missed bikes, the smell of fuel and oil, even the way her cheeks got squashed inside of her helmet, but she couldn't go back to racing, not all the while Neal Cassidy was on the circuits. Two years had been enough time for Neal to make it up to MotoGP and for Emma to leave behind what had happened between them, but the yearning for bikes never left her and she spent the next year training to be a mechanic.

It was easier for Emma than it was for most. She knew bikes like the back of her hand, inside and out, and she could take them apart and put them back together again with her eyes closed. Mechanic school was a piece of cake. Getting a job after she graduated was the hard part. Neal hadn’t just sullied her good name in racing, but he had managed to get her ghosted by the entire race world, and nobody would hire a junkie. Luckily for her, she had completed all of her qualifications in the surname of Nolan, so all she needed was a little help.

[junker-town]

The Tour de France’s weirdest tradition is a high-speed, candy-chucking parade

A day in the caravane, the Tour’s dumb, dangerous, and beloved parade of sponsors.

Quentin is yelling out the window of his Haribo Croco-plastered Isuzu, Victor dos-d’âne! Victor dos-d’âne!

A dos-d’âne is a donkey’s back, which is what the French call speed bumps. Victor is a young man strapped to the roof of the Isuzu. Quentin is driving, and he just realized he’s going faster than he meant.

He takes the dos-d’âne and yells back to Victor, Ça va, poulet? A poulet is a chicken, and French youths use the word like Americans might call someone their dog. Victor is ça va, so we keep speeding along and taking part in perhaps the Tour de France’s weirdest tradition.

Ryan Siu

The caravane is one of the biggest pieces of the Tour, and it’s completely invisible to anyone not watching the race in France. Every day, two hours before the riders start each stage, a parade of Tour sponsors goes out in branded floats in a line that can stretch 15 kilometers as it rolls down a more than 200-kilometer course.

As much as I’d like to think I’m above naked commercialism, the caravane is fascinating. I saw it firsthand for the first time in 2014 and called it moronic, dangerous fun. The Tour claims that roughly 50 percent of the people who pack the side of the road each day do so for the caravane, which chucks out free goodies — like candy, and hats, and key chains, and sausage — to a voracious mass of French people.

I reached out to Haribo to ride with in part because they’re the stars. According to Quentin — a 25-year-old studying in Brussels who is driving for Haribo for a second year — the candy company is by far the most popular set of floats in the caravane, followed by Cochonou, a mass producer of saucisson sausage snacks. Quentin says that because Haribo is so big, the job pays well for a summer gig. He likes the team of Haribo employees, too, and getting to be a part of the Tour de France in some way. He’s a triathlete and a cycling fan.

Ryan Siu

I’m distracting him, though. His radio crackles with chatter from Haribo cars farther ahead, relaying road hazards, or instructions from the caravane’s commissaires. There’s an untold number of things to look out for while driving — speedbumps, chicanes, and stopped vehicles. There’s also a strict schedule to adhere to. The Tour wants the caravane to be done at least two hours before riders are due to arrive at the finish.

But the biggest concern is people — highly excitable, erratic, and fragile people. The Tour restricts caravane vehicles to a max speed of 80 kilometers (50 miles) per hour, and tries to keep an average of 30 kph to minimize the chances that anything goes wrong on the road. There have been bad accidents in the past. In 2000, a 12-year-old boy was hit by a caravane vehicle and died. In 2002, it was a 7-year-old.

But in practice, those restrictions have to be fudged a little if the vehicles are going to keep time.

Around 1 p.m. — roughly three hours into our journey on Stage 4 to Nancy, and two-and-a-half hours before the finish — we take a nature break. Caravane cars try to restrict themselves to one stop, maximum, and only by necessity. Peeing isn’t written into the itinerary. If you have to go, you pull off to the side of the road and find whichever nearby bush or piece of fencing that you like the least.

Ryan Siu

Quentin tells me we absolutely won’t wait more than five minutes, and we absolutely didn’t. We zipped up, hopped back in our Croco-car, and began the dodgiest portion of our journey, hitting the gas to find our place within the rest of the Haribo crew. Other sponsored vehicles would move to the right side of the road when there was space so we could zoom past, but the coordination wasn’t easy, especially while navigating turns and paying mind to the narrow shoulders packed with fans yelling Les bonbons! Les bonbons!

A policeman on a motorbike pulls up on our front wheels to help us chase. We accelerate to 80, 90, 100 … up to 120 kph, and Quentin sees I’m looking at the speedometer and says “well, it’s sometimes OK if the police are with you.” Still he gives Victor a ça va, poulet? and Victor is still strapped to the roof and ça va.

Quentin hasn’t seen an incident in the caravane involving Haribo, and he won’t speak for other brands. There are a few disconcerting moments on our trip, though — a mother yanking back her boy by the collar as he lunges for something in the road, adults lunging and jumping back instinctively when they hear honking.

Louis Bien

“I think this is totally stupid,” Quentin says as a man steps into the road with his dog on a leash. “Sometimes people are holding on to the dogs better than the kids.”

To drive the caravane, you need to be willing to submit yourself to a moment’s sobriety test — Quentin says he was breathalyzed four times last year. Everyone taking part is given safety training. Vehicles shut off their music and stop tossing if they’re in the process of overtaking, and they’ll never throw across lanes of traffic.

The biggest danger is freebies landing in the road, so the chuckers are told to either throw their goods at the ground on an angle so that they slide to the curb, or far over the heads of fans if there’s a space behind them. The second method makes people do a funny little hop to try and catch their freebie, and almost feels like teasing on the part of the sponsors.

The roadside passion for all this free stuff and so much hokiness is mostly un-ironic. Kids and adults hold upturned open umbrellas to give the people on top of the floats a place to aim. Some hold signs with targets on them. People get upset if a float doesn’t throw candy. I saw a woman who appeared to be in her 50s stamp her foot as we passed by without giving her candy. Quentin won’t keep the windows rolled down, he says, so that I won’t hear the obscenities people yell at the cars.

Bear in mind that only a few of the Tour’s sponsors are offering anything fun, in the traditional sense. They include Génération Pêche, a resource for information on fishing regulations, and a campaign to raise awareness against Hepatitis C using the hashtag #DuBruitContrelHépatiteC. That means #NoiseAgainstHepatitisC, and it’s pasted on a truck that’s hauling a giant fake megaphone behind it.

I ask Quentin to ask the veterans among the crew what the weirdest sponsor in the caravane has been. Didier, who has worked the last seven Tours, says that the workers’ union Force Ouvrière used to throw out condoms to the crowd that said “FO will protect you.”

The caravane’s favorite fans are the very young and very old. We see both in large groups. When the caravane has a heads up that a non-profit organization or a school has put a group of kids next to the road, the candy-chuckers will gather armfuls of the fun-size bags and shower them.

The worst fans interfere with the cars. Quentin says that on hot days, some fans will pelt the caravane with water balloons, which may seem like a favor to the people on top of the vehicles, but in reality makes riding in the open air frigid and miserable. Mountain stages are especially tricky to drive. The roads are narrower and more winding, and the fans tend to be young drunk men. Once, Didier says, his vehicle had to stop in the Pyrenees, and he was boarded by hooligans who tried to break into the candy reserves in the trunk.

Today is calmer, 213.5 kilometers, all nearly paper flat. It’s one of the least eventful days in an otherwise action-filled first week of the Tour, but it’s special for Quentin. He’s from the area of Nancy, and he has coordinated friends and family to stand along the course 15 kilometers from the finish. He lets the rest of the Haribo crew know about an hour before that he wants to break decorum a bit, and he gets the OK.

Louis Bien

As we roll up to the meeting point, Quentin rolls down his window, sees the first of his people, and lets out primal holler while honking his horn. He yells Ayy Papa! Ayy Papa!, which means “Ayy Papa! Ayy Papa!” and may not have actually been addressed to his dad.

The stunt was a bit off-script, but it felt natural in the organized chaos that the Tour de France cultivates. Just like the Tour itself, the caravane is an awe-inspiring pain in the ass. And like the Tour, everyone who has a part is proud of it.

Quentin rolls up his window after the drive-by, muting the sound outdoors. He’s looking forward to the mountain stages where the driving is more interesting. He remembers going over the Col d’Aspin in the Pyrenees last year, nearly 5,000 feet above sea level. “We were above the clouds. They were tapping on the car, and it was crazy.”

Then he remembers Victor, and rolls his window back down. He yells Ça va, poulet? and Victor is ça va.

[countrygrlswrld]

New Zealand: Then and Now

“Only the mountains know where they have come from and where they are going and what will happen when we are gone.” —Brian Turner, “Listening to the Mountain” (1985) as seen at the Sir Edmund Hilary Mountaineering Museum

The electric blue waters are still electric blue. The peaks still tower above. The rolling green hills still conjure images of hobbits and orcs, but a lot has changed in New Zealand since Spanky and I first visited a decade ago on our inaugural trip around the world and then again just five years ago when we spent two months of the South Island alone. We returned this time for six weeks on the South and were both comforted by the sameness and shocked by some of the major changes over the years.

So, what’s changed?

Bigger vans, less freedom camping

Ten years ago you’d be hard pressed to find anything other than one of those rapey-looking Wicked campervans (made rapey-er still by sayings such as “Let’s take off our pants and cuddle”). Now, the van rentals are taller, longer, have a more sterile, hospital appearance and usually come with a Mercedes-Benz logo on the front. The hippie backpackers are still around, but as is the case in so many places in the world, the gap seems to be widening—and the travel climate is a perfect metaphor. You’ve got the rich, gray-haired travelers with their $10,000-per-month Maui and Britz vans juxtaposed by the dirt poor, 20-something Euro backpackers who bought some shitty, no-name van for $3,000 and will sell it back after their visa runs out in a year for $2,000. They’re the ones dropping trou in the parking lot to change out of the harem pants they’ve been wearing for the past 17 days; you know ‘em when you smell ‘em, I mean, see ‘em. The in-betweeners like Spank and I are becoming a rare breed, though mid-range Jucy vans like the one we rented for $2,500 for six weeks are pretty common (renting one also comes with the very serious duty of waving happily and flashing your lights every time you pass another bright green and purple van on the road #jucytribeforlife). Still, there aren’t a whole lot of 30-somethings out on the road, which is exactly why we excitedly accepted the offer of Jaeger shots from a pack of four American guys in Queenstown—uh, only someone who hit their drinking prime in the early 2000s orders Jaeger shots; it’s basically a telltale sign of someone well on his or her way toward a midlife crisis. That and getting way too amped when 50 Cents “In Da Club” comes on at the pub.

Aside from the upgrade in van sizes, New Zealand has cracked down a bit on freedom camping. We went back to some of our old off-the-road parking spots and they now have “No overnight camping” signs in where we once set up our picnic table and chairs. It’s sad, but I understand that they don’t want tourist dumps all over the place. I don’t blame them one bit, especially considering most tourists are from the city and don’t know how to properly dispose of their dumps. I mean, hello, have you ever been to San Francisco? If not, this is your courtesy warning: Watch your step; that wasn’t Fluffy.

Better beer

No, we didn’t just drink Jaeger shots and Sauvignon Blanc on this NZ trip. We also dabbled in hops, and what we found were IPAs and APAs and, heaven forbid, Sour Gose! That’s right, New Zealand has arrived on the beer scene. Just five years ago you were lucky to find anything other than a pilsner or lager—think Bud and Coors. Not only are their beers more varied now, but they’ve got the whole locale down. In Wanaka we stumbled on the brewery Rhyme & Reason bumping 90s gangsta rap and sandwiched next to a CrossFit gym in the industrial part of town. Wait, are we in America??

More rich people—more people, in general

With the campervan shift comes a shift in the demographic. Not only are there more travelers, but there are just more people in New Zealand than when Spank and I first visited a decade ago. It’s one of those heartbreaking realities when your special little spot is discovered by the masses. Thanks a lot Frodo. I blame you and your hairy, hobbit feet. You just had to go tramping all over Aeotera pretending it was Middle Earth and showing everyone how raw and unique it was. “Frodo!” (*In the voice of Jerry Seinfeld cursing his nemesis Newman.)

There aren’t just more people; there are more people with coin to throw down. They put a Louis Vuitton on the Queenstown waterfront overlooking Lake Wakatipu for sobbing out loud. Bleh. And, the housing market has followed suit. There are new houses and condos being built by the Chinese tourist busloads, which is to say there are a lot and they just keep coming. And, we heard a Kiwi throw out a figure like “the average Kiwi makes $40,000 and the average house is $1 million.” There went our dreams of buying a house in New Zealand—it’s as bad, or worse, than the California housing market right now. Plus, the Kiwis apparently passed legislation to keep us outsiders from buying property. Again, I can’ blame them. They are struggling dearly to keep their Kiwiness in tact, and having one hell of a time doing it.

It’s lost a little luster

All this to say that New Zealand will always have a special place in our hearts, but it has lost a little of its luster. It probably didn’t help that we hiked in the Himalayas and Chile’s Torres del Paine then drove the Canadian Rockies to Alaska and back two years ago; those sights didn’t totally trump the natural gems of NZ, but they did give it a good run for its money.

One more thing: There are still sandflies...and I still hate them.

Still, a lot has remained the same...

Natural beauty and Kiwis ideas of conservation

People love to idealize Kiwi concepts of conservation without really understanding them. Sure, they want to preserve their native species, but the ones that aren’t native? You dead. I mean, they mow down red deer, tahr, opossum and stoat with extreme prejudice. Good for them. Kiwis realize which critters were here and which ones were brought over later on, and they don’t try to protect the ones they knowingly brought over. They could care less about those, really. Plus, they aren’t too proud to say, “Yeah, we screwed up when we were trying to play God.” Americans, however, tend to want to protect everything—native or non-native. In every hut along the Routeburn Track we heard about the nuisance of the stoat and the traps set out for them. The hut wardens were unapologetic about snapping their little stoat necks to save the precious native birds; I admired their transparency and lack of political correctness.

Kiwis also treat timber as a renewable resource, a crop that is cut down and replanted. Drive around and you’ll see neatly lined rows of Douglas Fir all the same height ready for harvest one day. It’s like one giant tree farm. Again, we want to save, save, save to the point that a fire comes along and happily gobbles up the whole lot that has not been thinned or taken care of, and boom, it’s gone just like that, but that’s another soap box for another time. Don’t worry, I won’t even touch immigration or gun control with a 10-foot pole right now.

Of course, what I love the most about New Zealand is the natural beauty, and though the throngs of people ruin that for me a bit, you can still escape and get off the beaten path and away from the masses. It’s all about choosing places that aren’t listed on every tourist site (i.e. the Hooker Valley Track at Mt. Cook that was just overrun with people) and choosing longer hikes (the longer the hike the fewer people up for the challenge, which means more high-altitude sights all to yourself!)

Incredible amount of access to the outdoors

Despite the restrictions on some freedom camping, there is still so much access to the outdoors. You can’t throw a stone and not hit one of those little yellow and green Department of Conservation signs. You see them wherever you go, and they signify a track or conservation camping area but most of them mark out tracks aka hiking trails. New Zealand just recently opened a nearly 2,000-mile thru-hiking trail from the North to the South Island on top of the huge amount of trails they already have. They continue to add new Great Walks, all of which have fantastic hut systems for overnighting backpackers. In total, New Zealand has nearly 1,000 huts so people can explore and enjoy the outdoors.

Kindness of Kiwis

I hope they never lose this, but as countries “progress” toward consumerism and what ultimately just feels like the almighty goal of Americanness and thus sameness, people seem to care less for each other and more about getting ahead. I still didn’t feel that overwhelmingly in New Zealand, but it’s a slow fade. It sneaks in. Plus, we spent next to no time in the larger cities, where I tend to feel that fade the most. All in all, we still sense that Kiwi hospitality. Backpackers still hitchhike without fear of being abducted or mugged and they still open their homes to perfect strangers, as we experienced with the gracious Kiwi couple from Nelson that we met at the Hokitika Wild Food Fetival amongst another group of friendly Kiwis. Even in Queenstown, where there are very few born-and-raised Kiwis, we met a group of timber guys (i.e. loggers) from NZ and hit it off right away. Before even speaking they were buying us a favorite spirit and cozying up next to the fire with us for a chat about politics, which went rather well, considering we shared many of the same views. I just hope these Kiwis can withstand the change of time and not end up on the endangered list like their national bird.

[teamhook]

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer - Second Contribution

Hello! Well, before the cssns was announced I was already thinking about writing this story but I wasn't sure, I needed a sign and then Krystal posted the signup for the event. So I went with it. It's a supernatural story that I had been playing with.

Thank you @kmomof4 for enabling all us, and organizing the event.

Thank you, @hookedonapirate for being my Beta.

Thank you, @revanmeetra87 for your support even though supernatural fics aren’t your thing.

And last but not least @kymbersmith-90 for being there for me, when I freak out at the craziest times.

Originally my idea was fusing in a few things together. I loved the storyline for Dracula 2000 and to be honest I think Captain Swan should be all movies. I was going to use a few points of the story but it evolved into something else. It has hints of some of my favorite movies and tv shows.

Sadly, after my computer crashed I felt lost, for a moment the story was eluding me. I confess it was hard to get back to it because so much of what I had planned had vanished and now I'm slowly getting my groove back. There will be mentions of different types of creatures but I will not go into great detail about all of them.

I give you Captain Swan Supernatural Summer my new multi-chapter story.

|AO3|  |FFN|

...

My Fate is Darkness

A/N: Is there light in darkness? Throughout the realms, there are all sorts of supernatural creatures roaming the lands. And there are those who are tasked with protecting the innocent. Fated to be enemies, can true love find its way through time?

Chapter 1

...

In the outskirts of the small town was a small cabin with a loving mother singing to her baby boy as she gazed into his loving blue eyes. Her soft voice carried throughout the home, soothing the little bundle in her arms.

"-And fondly I watched her

Move here and move there

And she went her way homeward

With one star awake

As the swans in the evening

Move over the lake-"

Pausing near the end of the song, she peeked out the window when something caught her attention. The shadows by the trees moved unnaturally. The hairs on the back of her head stood up; she hadn't felt this uneasy in years. She quickly moved the rug on the floor, lifted the small cellar door and grabbed her small son, hushing, "Killian, sweetheart, please stay quiet for mum. You are such a good baby." His blue eyes looked deep into her own as she slowly lowered him into the small wooden bassinet. She closed the door and rose to her feet, grabbing a dagger from the small trunk under her bed. Cautiously stepping outside, she slowly closed the door behind her.

She walked around the house looking for any broken tree branches or indication of unwanted company. She had to move quickly because Brennan and Liam were due to return from the docks and she didn't want them to be caught by surprise. Her boys loved to watch the ships arrive at the little town.

She had circled back and was assessing the area one last time before she deemed it safe. The yellow eyes pierced through the foliage. The distance between them was now obvious. He was just a few feet from her favorite berry tree just before reaching the forest entrance.

She hadn't moved that fast ago in years - since her last hunt. Her motivation was a lot more primal than the thrill of a kill; she was protecting her family. Years of training had resurfaced when she saw standing before her a yellow-eyed demon. He came at her, taking swings at her head, stomach and wherever he could reach. She fought back, blocking and landing some punches before finally putting the dagger to use, but it felt as if he were toying with her. He could've used some of his powers on her to end it swiftly, but his arrogance would not allow it.

She finally managed to get the upper hand.

"Darkness is coming, Hunter and you will lose." The demon spat black blood at her.

"It may be coming, but you will not be here to see it. This is where you fall down." With that, she gave the final blow, and blood was splattered everywhere. She pulled out the dagger and wiped it clean with her brown blouse.

She turned to look at the house and ran towards it, feeling queasy as she approached; the air was hard to breathe. She ran inside and found a cloaked figure standing were Killian's empty crib was.

"Where is the boy?"

"What do you want with my son?" She tried to step closer but was suddenly frozen in place.

"Oh, I have plans for him. Now answer my question: here is he?"

"He is not here."

"Tsk tsk; don't lie to me, Hunter. I know he is here. I can smell his sweet blood. He gets that from you, you know."

Alice made a face at the comment. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"The older boy has it too, but it doesn't match the young one. I had hoped to be finished by the time you came back in from dispatching my soldier, but you hid the boy. I will find a way to get him, and you will not be here to protect him anymore." He lifted her body with an invisible force and pushed her against the ceiling wall, knocking the wind out of her. With a flick of his hand, suddenly the cutlery flew toward her.

As he walked out, the flame of a small candle near the window ignited the curtains, causing a fire.

She'd never expected to feel this way. She had heard that a person's life flashed before their eyes, and they reflected on their lives as they neared the end. But she was at peace, unafraid and happy, knowing Killian was protected by the enchanted wood the cellar his bassinet was hidden in was made from.

Alice Jones had always done what was expected of her. Since she was a little girl, she was told what to do, who she was supposed to be and who she was meant to love. Pesky little birthmarks and soul mates were overrated, even when she thought she had taken control of her fate and had decided who to love. She had done what she was supposed to do, but sometimes one cannot escape fate.

As she surrendered to her fate, her thoughts lingered on the road so far.

The truth about monsters and all that goes bump in the night is simple - they are real. Just because you don't believe in them, doesn't mean they don't believe in you.

Demons, vampires, skinwalkers and the occasional werewolf are a few of the otherworldly creatures that plague the worlds and have to be terminated. It'd been an almost eternal battle to protect the innocents and the light.

There had been an unnatural amount of activity in all the realms; hunters were struggling to keep up and were forced to hunt alone, no longer in pairs.

Paranormals would jump realms on occasion, which meant there would have to be a hunter or a guardian close behind. They would travel from Oz to Wonderland and all the realms in between in order to protect the light from the darkness that threatened to extinguish it. They've traveled from realm to realm at times to fight and protect the innocents or to take the survivors to a sanctuary.

The land without magic was one of those realms. This world had been touched by evil and because of its lack of belief in the unknown; the view of these events was altered. History gave a different account of the unknown. One of the most well-known accounts took place in London. For there had been a terror in the late 1800's (the exact year was hard to pinpoint). Jack the Ripper had not been a simple serial killer. Many had fallen victim to him; he did not discriminate. There was no known pattern; the only similarity is that the bodies were drained of their blood. Two tiny twin puncture wounds would be found in the lifeless human body, so small sometimes it was missed. The truth was Jack was a different kind of killer; he was a vampire. His reign of terror had ended at the hands of hunter Evangeline Van Helsing, Alice Burkhart's usual partner.

Like most hunters, Alice had spent time in all of the realms. She hated the difference in the time periods from realm to realm. It could make anyone dizzy. She never looked forward to jumping between realms. It was hard going unnoticed when the wardrobe made her stand out. Her favorite realm was the one that held her home. Beyond the land, far out at sea - that is where Haven Isles lies hidden to the naked eye. The Enchanted Forest was the closest land to her home. After her last hunt, she had decided to eat a warm meal at the little pub at The Den's Inn. She sat with her back to the wall, always paying attention to her surroundings to ensure no surprises were coming her way.

A group of men entered the Inn and asked for the stew of the day. One of the men looked at her and smiled. She couldn't help herself and reciprocate the gesture. He approached the table. "Hello lass, may I join you?"

She gestured for him to sit.

"Thank you, my name is Brennan Jones. May I inquire the name of my lovely companion?"

"Aren't you a gentleman? My name is Alice Burkhart."

...

Not far from the little house, a man holding a young boy approached the home.

"Papa, look - fire!" The boy pointed at the small house now set aflame.

"Liam, please wait for me here. Do not move."

The boy nodded in agreement as Brennan frantically ran into the house. He opened the door and ducked as the flames attacked him. He saw his wife lying lifeless on the floor, her hand resting on the cellar door handle. He looked around and couldn't see his youngest boy. "Killian?" Of course, the boy could not answer his call, but Brennan knew he was there. He picked up his wife's body and noticed the door handle was still within her death grip. He opened the door and saw Killian looking at him with his deep blue eyes, barely making a fuss. He grabbed the bassinet as he threw her body over his shoulder.

…Years later…

Brennan Jones still mourned his long lost love. He still could not wrap his mind around the fact that she was gone. So many unanswered questions; the dagger she had on her body. The craftsmanship of the blade was incomparable. The cellar had been made with enchanted wood and she had requested special designs carved into it. She was knowledgeable of magical items to an extent that he had questioned her about it only to receive a smile in return.

They weren't given enough time. And now he would never see her smile or look into her eyes ever again.

He would stare at his youngest son and get lost in memories of Alice; Killian looked so much like his mum. And now she was gone and he was still here.

Brennan had become the shell of his former self. He drank away the few coins he earned instead of providing the essentials for his sons. He just wanted to disappear and fall into the void. He couldn't go on without her. He was running away and kept moving what remained of the small family from village to village along the coast.

He raised the boys to the best of his ability. They were getting so big and Liam was already becoming a young man. Brennan had caught Liam doing small chores for whomever that would provide him with a coin. Killian on the other hand still didn't understand why his mum was gone, even if he didn't remember her.

At least Brennan didn't believe so.

The broken-hearted man slowly slipped further into despair. Soon enough he had accrued debts he couldn't pay for, even after selling the last physical connection he had to Alice - the dagger she had when she died. He had gotten silver and some gold doubloons, but it didn't last. He then started stealing, and soon his thievery caused him and his young sons to be on the run.

"Liam, please help Killian get ready; we are going on a grand adventure out at sea. We are to sail on one of those ships that you boys love so much." Brennan smiled and wobbled away, almost falling to the floor.

"What did you do? All you do is drink and gamble."

"Liam, I just want to be a good father to you and your brother. I know I've made mistakes and because of those mistakes, you've had to grow up. You take care of Killian and yourself."

Liam looked at his little brother and quickly helped him dress. He still kept an eye on his father; almost two years had passed since the time Liam caught him trying to sneak away. His father had told him that the kind spinsters that lived next door would have gladly raised them.

"Papa, we are ready," Liam told his father as he held Killian's hand.

Killian stretched his small hand for his father to hold and once his father reached for it, he offered a sweet dimpled smile.

They arrived at the docks and soon the salty sea air filled their noses with the fragrance of adventure.

They boarded the merchant ship and soon were led below deck next to the crew quarters. Brennan had spent his last coins getting them the last cabin of the ship. The ship had finally set sail.

Liam was the one to speak, "Papa, where are we going?"

Brennan extended his arms to reach for both of his sons and pulled them to his lap, one on each side. Liam was getting too big, but Killian clung to Brennan with eagerness for his father's affection. He hadn't done this in so long. He held them tight.

"The ship is traveling to Wayward Port. A small port just outside of the Maritime Kingdom"

Killian fell asleep in his father's arms.

"Liam, you should sleep and let the waves lull you into sleep like Killian did."

Liam looked at his father still holding Killian in his arms and slowly approached the bunk on the other side.

"Son, sleep and I will tuck Killian in. I shall share the bunk with him. He is still so small even at his age. Don't worry, just sleep."

Liam pondered his father's request and decided he could not go anywhere. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

A few days at sea had passed and Jones had enjoyed his time with his sons. He knew in his heart it would've made his Alice happy. Now they were up on deck watching the water.

"Papa, I like this ship. Can we stay forever?"

"I'm afraid not, son," he replied to Killian. We will soon make port and find a new home."

Killian couldn't hide his disappointment at his father's response.

"Come on little brother; let's go to our room so you can take your nap."

Brennan gazed out over the vast ocean as the boys walked away. As soon as they were gone, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Mr. Jones, may I have a word." The man gestured for Brennan to follow him to the most secluded part of the ship.

"Captain Silver, is there a problem?"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news for a family man such as you. It has come to my attention that at Wayward Port there are some people awaiting our arrival; more specifically yours. You will be arrested upon arrival."

Brennan's face went pale as all of the blood drained from it.

"I may have a solution, if I may make a suggestion? As you are aware, the ship has a rowboat. I could offer it in exchange for some extra coins. I'd settle for some copper."

"That would be lovely if I had any. I used the last to pay for the room. I have nothing else of value."

The Captain considered his answer. "I believe you are still in possession of something of value. I'm in the need of a cabin boy or two. Does that help?"

Brennan looked at the man as he processed his comment. He couldn't attempt an escape with the kids with him. It could be dangerous and they would get hurt. He knew his capture was inevitable and what would happen to the kids? He had no family to take them and Alice never talked of her family. Their best chance was on that ship.

"How long would they need to serve you for?" Brennan couldn't believe he was considering the proposition.

Captain Silver pondered the question. "Each of your boys will serve for a mere ten years. Please, consider that they will be together and have nothing to worry about. They will be better off with me than if the authorities get a hold of them. Imagine them in an awful orphanage."

The thought of Brennan's boys in an orphanage killed him. At least with Silver, they would be at sea and his sons loved it.

"You have a deal. I will take the rowboat once it is dark. The kids will be in the room."

"I would hurry if I were you. It seems there is a storm coming," the Captain informed him and walked away.

Brennan headed below deck to his room. He opened the door and slowly entered only to find Liam and Killian napping on one of the bunks.

He watched as his sons slept. Suddenly, lightning flashed, and the ship swayed, tilting abruptly, waking Killian in the process."Papa, I'm scared."

"There is nothing to be afraid of son. Before you know it, you're going to be a man, so I'm just trying to prepare you 'cause then you're going to have to answer life's big question: what kind of man are you going to be?"

Killian smiled. "I want to be like you, Papa."

Brennan looked at his son and knelt by him. "No, Killian, promise me you will be a better man. Don't be like me."

Killian's eyes slowly closed and he fell asleep.

Brennan kissed his forehead and whispered, "I wish I could be the father you deserve." He rose to his feet and moved toward Liam and kissed him as well. "Liam please look after Killian." With his final words, he slipped out of the cabin, into the night and disappeared.

Early the next morning the sun shone brightly, leaving no evidence of a storm.

Liam woke first and noticed the other bunk was empty. Killian was still asleep, so he slowly got up, careful so as not to wake his brother up.

He dressed and hurried to go look for his father. The bunk had not been slept in.

As he was running to the deck, he bumped into someone.

"Boy, where is the other one?"

"What other one are you referring?"

"I believe he is your younger brother."

"He is asleep; I was looking for our father. Have you seen him?"

"Oh, he is long gone."

"Gone? But we are still here."

"That is because you are now part of the crew."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your father needed a rowboat and I needed some extra help."

"He just left us?"

"I'm afraid so. You are both now my property. I think it is time to wake up the other one. There is work to do before we arrive. And don't get any ideas."

Liam walked away and headed back to the cabin. How was he going to explain to his brother that their father had left them?