#tron: alignment

[qyrhan]

Would any of you wish to enjoy a Clon in these trying times?

[do not repost my art to other sites]

[gillymugs]

TRON: ALIGNMENT

“No, you, you are the threat! Programs are the enemy. Programs must be purged” -Clon (Tron Alignment)

Credit for quote @qyrhan

The process-

[king-k-ripple]

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 5)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ While filming Tron, Y/N follows Evan up in Canada, eager to surprise him for his birthday. But what starts as a joyous occasion quickly turns into a heated argument. But you know what they say about fireworks: they explode, and boy, do these two ignite into frustration and passion. Will their clash lead to a blazing reunion, or will it all go up in smoke? Hazard a guess😏

Warnings ─ Swearing, oral (both receiving), food porn, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, bondage, BDSM, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, birthday sex, missionary, nutty smutty— based on public demand ;)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

20 January, 2024, Vancouver

Your tears blur your vision as you stand in the kitchen of the Airbnb, the temporary shelter you share with Evan. The cold glow of your phone screen illuminates the screenshot of Adria’s last hurtful texts, sent just before she blocked you earlier this month.

You haven’t spoken since, and the silence gnaws at your heart, tearing at the fabric of a friendship you once believed was unbreakable. She was the kind of friend you didn’t need a social battery for, the one you always dreamed of growing old together.

Your mind involuntarily does a wild backflip, taking you back to when all the drama with her first unfolded, and your throat starts to close up as your bottom lip trembles, threatening to bring another full-blown sob fest.

*flashback alert*

You and Evan were lounging on your bed, both in your undergarments, basking in the lazy aftermath of the Emmy Awards bash a day later.

Tabloids were ablaze with afterparty pics, splashing your face as the ‘enigmatic woman’ next to Evan Peters. Headlines screamed speculation and gossip rags were practically hyperventilating, going into detective mode to uncover your identity. Whispers and rumours spread like wildfire through the gossip mill, making you feel you were under a microscope.

Whenever you’d feel the sting of public scrutiny, even on your social media accounts, Evan would nonchalantly wrap an arm around you and remind you with a reassuring smile, “Let them guess, baby. Let them spin their stories. They’re just bored, no life. We know the truth, and that’s all that counts. Don’t let them rent space in your head.”

Evan was now deep into his phone, navigating the maze of paperwork needed to smuggle you into Canada without an American passport. His fingers moved absently, tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“Baby, maybe we should go for a visitor visa or an eTA... Electronic...Travel Authorization, or whatever the hell that is. It’s the quickest way to get you in,” he muttered more to himself than to you, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scrolled further.

But you just laid sprawled out beside him, limbs tangled on him in a delicious mess, your breasts spilling over his chest. You were barely listening to all things bureaucracy over the addictive scent of his skin and his rhythmic heartbeat, aligning with the rise and fall of his breathing.

You not using a single brain cell when with your man...

You admired the perfect curve of his side profile, the little mole on the tip of his nose that always made you smile. Your fingers grazed over the ridges of his toned abs, a silent appreciation for the masterpiece he was as your mind replayed the epic dick he served you up the night before.

Your clitoris was practically combusted after that, but your period, dear Aunt Flo, decided to pay a surprise visit earlier than expected. Of course she would...

And that’s when your own phone exploded into a frenzy with Adria’s messages. If the media uproar felt invasive, hers cut deep, and it was super personal.

“Tha fuck,” you cried out, hurling yourself off the bed. You frantically unlocked the phone to read the full conversation, the venomous words on the screen hitting you like a sledgehammer. “Listen to this,” you shouted, your voice shaking with fury as you read her brutal attack aloud for Evan to bear witness, each word dripping with malice.

Evan watched, perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes widening with every syllable. His face paled as he took in the vitriol of phrases like, “pathetic boyfriend’s lil junk,” “shove it up your ass,” “he’s using you,” “useless gold digger,” “you’re dead to me, bitch”.

You exploded, launching into a tirade about Adria’s betrayal. “She’s showing her true colours now, isn’t she? ‘Friend, my ass!’ What a snake!” your voice broke with the intensity of your anger and hurt.

Evan moved to your side, throwing a black tank top on, his expression a mix of hopelessness and sympathy. He was stunned, his eyes brimming with concern for you. You felt the weight of his worry, but also the unconditional support in his gaze. You collapsed into his waiting arms, snuggling your head up in his lap. His delicate hand was soothingly running through your hair as you sobbed hard and fast, each tear absorbed by his fingertips like it was nothing as you let it all out.

“Yea, baby, what she said was messed up, no doubt,” he murmured looking down to meet your eyes as you turned over to face him. “But sometimes people lash out when they’re projecting or hurting. You had every right to keep it private for as long as you wanted, but maybe she felt left out 'cause you were keeping this big chunk of your life from her. Doesn’t excuse her going full nuclear, but it might explain where she’s coming from.”

Your chest heaves with another wave of tears, gripping onto his leg for dear life.

“Shh.. it’s gonna be alright, my love,” Evan whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Look, you’re in pain from her harshness, and that’s valid. But if there’s even a slim chance of salvaging the friendship, it might be worth a shot to talk it out. Doesn’t mean you gotta forgive and forget right away, but at least give her a chance to explain... If she doubles down on the crazy, then yeah, maybe it’s time to move on.”

*flashback ends*

The oven timer jolts you back to the present moment, snapping you out of your memories. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you pull out the Pyrex dish with dinner and strike a match, igniting the candles on Evan’s cake. You know he doesn’t fancy extravagant night outs for his birthday, so you’ve planned a cosy burrito night in for him.

With a quick glance at your phone, you see his response, “I’m a few blocks away, undress yourself” to your earlier string of messages,

miss your loads

**miss you loads

well, both I guess

His reply buys you just enough minutes to set up the surprise.

Yes, the moment you touched down in Vancouver, Evan had to rush off to set. Yes, even on his birthday.

As you hustle to put the final touches in the dining area, you check the candles to be sure they’re all lit. The warm glow casts a romantic ambience, shadows dancing on the walls, amplifying the anticipation.

Suddenly, the familiar jingle of keys in the lock from the hallway sends your heart racing, your pulse pounding with enthusiasm and nerves.

“Happy birthdaaaay!” you exclaim, arms thrown in the air, as he saunters in with a charming wide grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you buzzing around the room.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, his voice rich and satin as he takes in the scene. His hungry gaze lingers on you a little too long, and it sends electric pulses of desire across your core.

“Just making sure your birthday is as hot as you are,” you quip, your tone sticky with innuendo as you lock eyes with a sultry smirk. 

He chuckles, cheeks flushing, as he paces closer to you with a crooked smile and a glint in his eye. His smirk expands as he corners you against the table. “Oh, is that so?” he hums seductively, yanking you tightly onto his chest, his hands tracing fiery paths over your body.

You nod, shooting him a mischievous smile as you pass him a small bag with your present. He gasps in excitement as he tears the wrapping apart to unveil a bulky watch, similar to his old one. “It fits like a glove,” he cries out, quickly fastening it on his wrist only to swing you around right after, his joy infectious as he holds you close.

“Thanks a bunch, my baby. That’s a top-tier surprise, especially now that I don’t have my family around,” he mumbles, and you notice as his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I truly love you, Y/N.”

Your heart swells as you drown into his misty eyes. “I love you too, Evan. It’s not much, but I couldn’t just shrug your birthday away without making it special. You like it?”

“Like it? I adore it, Y/N. You have no idea how much this means to me and how you bring the best out of me,” he sighs against your ear, sending tremors down your spine.

Before you can respond, his hands slip under your dress. Tugging at your strapless bra and pinching softly at your nipples, his tongue slowly twirls with yours, making your pussy leap and leak for him. Aching for his touch, you moan into his mouth, your body melting into a slime in his grasp.

Breaking the kiss, Evan’s breath burns against your breasts like a firestorm of passion as he murmurs huskily, “Why isn’t my birthday wish fulfilled yet?”

With a devilish grin, you meet his gaze, your lips a mere breath away from his. “I’m your genie for the night, sir. You ask, I shall deliver,” you purr, your hand teasing the stiffness that strains his slacks, feeling his need for you pulsating beneath your touch.

“You, on this table covered in cake.”

Your hands rub harder on his erection, drawing soft groans from him as you nibble on his neck. “Consider your wish granted,” you whisper, your voice a silken promise as you push him back slightly. Clutching his jaw, you guide his head toward the table, your touch both commanding and tender. “But don’t you want to have a bite and tell me about your day first?”

He puckers his lips, narrowing his eyes in mock contemplation, before a wicked smile spreads across his face. “Yea, I suppose I should think with my top head for a bit. Let’s enjoy this delicious dinner you’ve made, and after that, baby, I promise, I’m gonna take my time licking every inch of you clean,” he coos, and strides over his cake.

As he leans in to blow out the candles, you stand next to him, clapping, cheering, and chanting the old-age birthday song, your phone capturing every moment for your mutual private collection. The room is bathed with the warm glow of candlelight and the sweet odour of dessert.

As the last wisp of smoke from the extinguished candles curls upwards, he turns to you with a playful smile, and that’s only a prelude to the real feast that awaits you both.

Evan’s re-enactment of Jared Leto’s and his own over-the-top method acting antics has you in stitches as you wrap up your meal. “Alright, alright,” he says, attempting to mimic his character’s intense gaze and dramatic voice.

He picks up a small dish, holding it aloft like it’s the most important object in the world. “This…is no ordinary plate. It’s our shield against the vice forces of the universe.”

You can’t help but snort, staring at him incredulously, “What has this shield gone through?” you inquire, unable to contain your amusement.

Evan grins, clearly pleased with himself, but stays in character. “No, no, Y/N, you don’t understand. This dish…I mean this shield has seen things. It has felt the scorching heat of the oven—like hell itself—and the icy chill of the fridge—colder than the North Pole. It’s been through a transformation!”

His priceless facial expressions send you into another fit of laughter, doubling over and clutching your sides. “Evan, stop! I can’t—” you gasp between fits of giggles. “You’re killing me!”

With exaggerated precision, he places the dish aside and grabs a glass, his face deadly serious. “And this glass,” he exclaims, holding it up like a sacred relic, “has held the nectar of the gods.”

Your laughter reverberates across the room as you lean against the table for support. “You guys are insane!” you choke out, still laughing.

He breaks character for a moment, his own hearty laughter bubbling up. “You think Leto goes this hard at home?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“I bet he does!” you reply, chuckling. “His poor dishes must be so confused.”

You dab your lips with a napkin, flashing a seductive smile to Evan as you stand up, the fabric of your flowy dress grazing against your skin in all the right places. You start gathering the crockery, the clinking of plates echoing in the room.

He takes a leisurely sip of his wine, eyes gleaming with mischief as he watches you intently. “Mmm, what do you think you’re doing there, miss?” he hums, waving his glass towards the dishes.

“I’m tackling the post-dinner cleanup before we open a cockroach motel in here,” you quip, balancing two plates on your forearm, the curve of your hip accentuated by the movement.

He raises his head with a hint of suspicion, his tongue lightly brushing against the sides of his teeth. With a smooth, predatory gait, he glides closer to you, his presence commanding and magnetic. His arm snakes around your waist until your bodies press extremely close together, as if he wants to meld into you.

He starts planting soft kisses on your neck, the warmth of his breath seeping into you and quickening your pulse. “That’s on me, baby girl. You cook, I wash—fair play.” His voice is a lush whisper tinged with playful allure, the undercurrent of raw ecstasy between you is in flames.

You look over your shoulder and move to the side, trying to slide away. “No, it’s your birthday, and I should spoil you,” you insist.

But Evan’s embrace only tightens, his crooked smile inviting trouble. Without warning, he whirls you around, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. The tempting aroma of alcohol and raspberries lingers on his breath, turning you on.

“What about my cake?” he murmurs against your lips, his hands massaging your ass before pressing against your throbbing sex. A choked moan escapes your lips, your need for him palpable.

With insatiable urgency, he strips you off your dress and deepens the kiss, leaving you only with your matching lingerie, a tantalising veil barely concealing your arousal.

He lifts you effortlessly, placing you atop the table with a low growl. Your breath catches as you feel the cool surface below you, contrasting sharply with the heat of his touch. He slides your panties down your thighs with a bitten lip, your tongues intertwining in a sensual dance.

Eager to feel more of him, you hastily fumble along the buttons of his shirt, your fingers trembling in anticipation. He stares at you with darkened eyes and a smirk, primal desire burning in his gaze, as he helps you rid him of the fabric separating you. 

He kisses and love bites his way down your upper half, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, until he reaches your pulsing cunt. 

As he grunts against your slippery folds, and you cover your mouth to stifle a scream, your surroundings seem to distort. It’s as if you’ve just dove into deep water, and his voice becomes muffled and distant, like you’ve submerged beneath the surface of a vast sea. Adria’s words echo through your mind, “he’s using you cause he’s stuck with his ex! Wake up!!” 

Panic seizes you, and you push him away mid-action, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as you leap off the table. “Let’s have the cake now, Evan. I’ll bring spoons,” you retort hastily, your words spilling out in a frantic rush, your heart hammering against your ribcage like a wild drumbeat.

“I don’t mean eating it the conventional way…” he says, his chuckle mixed with traces of confusion.

As you hurriedly scramble to get into your dress and underwear, you move towards the kitchen with a racing heart, his voice ringing in your ears.

He rushes forward to block your path, gently grabbing your arm. “Is everything okay, Y/N? Why’re you avoiding me?” he questions, his brows furrowing in a blend of surprise and intrigue.

Your stomach always twists into knots whenever he addresses you by your government name instead of his endearing variations of “baby.” 

Your breath hitches as you pause, tension and uncertainty weaving through the atmosphere like a dense fog, obscuring your conscience. His rosy lips turn into a thin, anxious line as his eyes search yours for answers.

“I’m not, Evan,” you manage, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart, your cheeks warming under his penetrating gaze. “I just…nah, forget about it. I don’t want to ruin your special day,” you mutter, your words rushed and disjointed, a feeble attempt to brush off your inner turmoil with a forced hug and kiss.

But he won’t let you escape so easily. He gently pulls you back, cupping your face in between his thumb and index finger. “What is it, baby? You can speak to me,” he urges, his tone soft but insistent. His eyes flicker around your face, concern etched into every line of his handsome face.

You lower your head and roll your lips into your mouth as tears are on the verge to spill. “I want there to be more to us than just sex,” you finally muster the courage to verbalise, your voice shaky.

His eyebrows shoot up, lips parting in disbelief. “But there is,” he fires back, his forehead creasing with lines of protest. “In fact, I’ve never felt a healthy and substantial connection like this before. It’s deeper than anything I’ve experienced,” he defends, his voice laced with desperate sincerity, his eyes imploring for you to understand.

He reaches out to pull you into his arms, his touch soft and comforting, but you step back, shaking your head in subtle denial.

He sighs in exasperation, his patience already fraying. “Honestly, what’s going on, Y/N?” he presses, his tone firmer.

You narrow your eyes at him, our tongue poking at your cheek, as your voice crescendos. “You wanna know what’s going on, Evan? You’re using me to get over your ex, that’s what’s going on,” you blurt out, arms folded across your chest. The words just tumble from your lips before you can stop them, charged by the doubt that’s been itching you.

His face contorts in shock, eyes widening, and his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. “What? Where did this come from?”

“It’s just something Adria threw at me,” you explain, compulsively rubbing your forehead, “she’s been in my head, making me doubt everything all over again.”

Evan’s eyes harden at the mention Adria, a glimmer of anger flashing across his features, but his touch remains delicate. “What did she say?” he asks, his tone rigid, but he’s clearly battling to keep his cool.

“It was her message the day we were at mine after the Emmy party,” you confess, croaking with the weight of your revelation. “She thinks you’re with me because you’re still hung up on your ex, and I’m your rebound.”

Evan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes as he’s reminded of these infamous texts. He pulls away slightly, a coldness suddenly creeping into his demeanour. “Thought we’re over this, Y/N. You know she’s just annoyed, hurt, or envious...dunno...that you didn’t say a word about our relationship, and she’s just trying to poison us.”

“How do I know that’s true?” you snap, frustration boiling over and your voice quivering with intensity as you confront him.

His jaw tightens, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “You should trust me,” he persists, his voice strained with emotion. “I’ve done all I could to show you I’m committed to us. Why do you keep letting her get to you?”

“Because it’s not just her, Evan!” you cry out, your voice cracking. “It’s the internet, and sometimes, I feel it too. Like maybe you’re not over your ex, and I’m just a placeholder here to fill a void,” you admit, tears flooding down your face, your chest heaving.

“Y/N...don’t cry, please,” he whispers, his voice momentarily gentle yet tinged with worry. “That’s ridiculous!,” he continues calmer than before. “We all carry our personal baggage, but I’m with you because I want to be. If you can’t see or feel that, then what are we even doing?”

You take a step back, your own anger rising, your chest tighter than before. Your stare turns into a furious glare, your heart rate soaring. “I just needed to hear you say it, okay? you retort. “I needed to know that I’m not crazy for having these doubts.”

Evan runs a hand through his hair, frustration plastered into every tense muscle of his body. “I’ve told you a million times, Y/N. I love you. I’m here for you. If you can’t see or feel that, then maybe we need to rethink this. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

His words stay the air like a heavy cloud, suffocating the room with their weight. The silence that follows is deafening, amplifying the ache inside you.

He shakes his head, his voice low and bitter now. “Whatever,” he spits out, his footsteps stomping against the floorboards as he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, heart thumping and more tears streaming down your face.

You lie on the couch, staring blankly at the TV droning on in a meaningless chatter as you absentmindedly flick through channels. The sound of the shower running in the background serves as a grim reminder of Evan, who, you bet, is still fuming even through closed doors.

Why tonight, of all nights, damn it all?? It’s his birthday, and it’s meant for joy and celebration, not this mess of baseless accusations and lame tears. You curse yourself for allowing Adria’s betrayal-infused ill-intent to infiltrate your mind, killing Evan’s love and dedication with your insecurities and silly suspicion.

The fight plays back in your mind like a horror movie on repeat, each word exchanged like a dagger to your heart. You recall Evan’s wounded face, the disbelief in his eyes...they haunt you all like ghosts in the night.

Your heart bleeds with regret as you realise the magnitude of your mistake, wishing you could just rewind and take your words back. The TV blares on, but the images just blur into a haze as you stay trapped in a loop of guilt and self-loathing.

The shower shuts off, and your heart skips a beat. You hear Evan moving around in the bathroom, the sound of the towel rack clinking, the soft thud of him stepping out. You squeeze the remote tighter, flipping through channels faster, trying to find something—anything—that could distract you from the impending confrontation.

Shortly after, he enters the living room, and you can’t help but drool over his on-my-knees-daddy-you’re-a-snack grey comfort shorts and white tank top, his hair damp and his expression weary. He glances at the TV, but says nothing.

The silence stretches, thick and constricting, and you feel you’re stuck in an endless, narrow cylindrical corridor that leads to nowhere. 

“Evan...” you dare, your voice wavering like a candle flame in a strong breeze, but it feels like screaming in a dream. 

He freezes, his back to you, shoulders stiffen as if bracing for impact. “What is it, Y/N?” His voice slices through the silence like a knife, sharp and guarded, a far cry from its usual warm and mellow timbre.

“I’m sorry,” the words spill from your lips, heavy with remorse, as you sit up on the couch. “My bad for bringing this up on your special day…very selfish of me, and I shouldn’t have let Adria’s words shake me like that.”

Evan turns slowly, his eyes piercing into yours as he flops onto the sofa next to you with a heavy sigh. “Then, why did you? Why allow her to destroy what we have?”

You take a shuddering breath, trying to alleviate the storm raging within you. “I don’t know… Maybe because, deep down, I’m terrified. Terrified that this is fleeting and all too good to be true. Terrified that I’m not enough for you.”

With a tentative move, he redirects his eyes towards you, the harsh lines of his expression softening just a fraction. “You’re more than enough, Y/N. But you have to trust and believe me. Why can’t you do that?” he asks, his voice regaining its soothing texture, akin to sweetened nectar.

“I’m trying,” you huff out before letting out a dramatic sigh, feigning a pout as your fingers caress along his stomach, getting lower along the edges of his firm abdomen. You admire the rugged strength of his arms, even in moments like this.

Well...damn, sir!

He squares his jaw, attempting to maintain his resolve (resulting in abject failure). “Try harder, Y/N because I need you in my life,” he mutters, his voice faltering slightly as you lean forward to trail kisses over his neck. Tough Evan is really like giving Bambi a gun.

It’s officially reckless business o’ clock. 

You sense the tension in his body easing, his reservations crumbling beneath your touch. With a mischievous spark in your eye, you close the gap between you, mere inches separating your lips. “But you know what I should do?”

He quirks his eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden shift in your attitude, but he instantly drops his head back, pretending to be unbothered. “I don’t care. I’m still pissed at you…but tell me, even though I don’t care,” he retorts, facing forward, but his need to know is crystal clear in his face.

You shoot him a playful grin as your fingers trace tantalising patterns along his bulge, feeling his hardness twitching under the fabric. “I should make it up to you,” you declare, an enchanting lilt to your voice, as you slowly undo the strings of his shorts.

A shudder courses through Evan’s body, jeopardising his composure. The intoxicating scent of your arousal and the softness of your touch prove too much for him to bear. “I’ve give you your own Kinder surprise,” you whisper seductively, your hand slipping underneath his shorts.

He fights to hide his growing erection, his breath comes in uneven gasps as he adjusts his shorts. “And what’s your grand plan?” he sighs, his voice husky with desire. His eyes are dark with anticipation while his resistance disintegrates with each passing second.

You sink between his legs, making him harder with every graceful sway of your hips. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” you chirp, pulling your hair up in a ponytail in an agonisingly slow pace.

You catch a glimpse of the outline of his cock protruding beneath his boxers (caught in 8k ultra HD), the fabric adorned with a tell-tale wet spot. Needless to say, he’s far more excited than he’s letting on. “Come on, baby Evan. Don’t play dumb with me.” 

Your mouth waters with anticipatory thrill, your wet centre throbbing with need. Your senses intensify, thighs instinctively clenching as you await him to shove down his shorts.

Evan swallows nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. In a swift, “fuck it” motion, he loops down the waistband of his boxers until his cock springs free, standing proudly in the air. Your gaze, once fixated on the crop of dark pubic hair gracing the base, now observes the veiny pathways that run along his thick length, leading to the swollen tip—flushed red and leaking with eagerness.

Your eyes, brimming with excitement, dart back and forth between his face and his erection, gauging his reaction as you test the boundaries. Encouraged by his desperate nod, you come closer, your lips ghosting the underside of his shaft, your warm breath teasing his sensitive skin, coaxing it to jerk in response.

“Crap, Y/N…I should be mad at you, but you’re too good at this…” he breathes out, already roused by the sight of your plush lips caressing the heat exuding from his cock, sending a wave of warmth sweeping over him. His legs part further, an unspoken invitation for you to draw nearer.

You giggle before taking the plunge, slowly skidding your lips along the sensitive underside of his dick. A soft, almost inaudible groan escapes his lips, and it’s the go-ahead you need to continue. From top to bottom, you pepper his throbbing length with tender, soothing kisses.

His hand immediately reaches for your hair, his fingers finding solace in the roots to distract himself from finishing too fast. Lowering your head, you tilt it to the side, your tongue marking a stripe against his sensitive balls. Eagerly, you press your face forward, your lips latching onto one of them, suckling on it with a gentle yet persistent rhythm, each release eliciting a small pop.

“Mmff!— fuck..” Evan’s jaw goes slack, a deep groan rolling off his tongue the moment your mouth makes contact, his resistance melting away under the spell of your touch.

Your kisses skim from the base and drift all the way up to the tip of his cock, tongue salty with precum as it deftly strokes the ridges. His body quivers, responding with an urgent jolt of his hips. It’s a wordless plea for you to finally take his cock into the warm and wet comfort of your mouth. 

“Stop torturing me, for the love of...I’m gonna explode,” he groans, grasping on a pillow as if it’s his last lifeline, and you can feel the urgency in his veins popping out. Ignoring his imploring, you press your lips right onto the swollen head, treating it to small kitten licks on his sensitive slit.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous...” he grunts, teetering on the edge of a whimper. His hips buck forward once more, ramming his tip deeper into your mouth. The evidence of your arousal is just as indisputable as his, your panties most definitely sodden from the act of using your mouth on Evan alone, cunt convulsing from his lewd noises with each stroke. His raw groans, the praises that spill from his mouth, and the way your name dances off his tongue like silk makes the fiery bundle of elation simmer in your belly.

His cock delves deeper into your throat as his hips undulated to the flow of his ragged panting. He can see the glistening of tears stinging your eyes, your whines muffled out around him. His tip bullies the back of your throat with each jerky thrust until it’s sore, pushing so deep that your nose buries itself in the tufts of baby hair on his pelvis.

His lips, now parted and glistening, ooze vulnerability, while his doe eyes shimmer with a feverish glimmer. Everything about him in this moment is mesmerising, leaving you no choice but to be spellbound. The rippling tremors jolting through Evan’s frame indicate he’s nearing his climax, fire pooling low in his abdomen, ready to burst.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubs the bridge of his nose in an attempt to quell the tightly coiled spring in his stomach, yearning for release. His balls tighten, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turn sloppy. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” he growls, a strand of your saliva trailing from his tip as he withdraws. 

“Fill my mouth up, baby boy,” you plead, looking up at him with hungry eyes, your mouth open and primed for his treat. 

With a wicked smile, you bite your lip before he softly slaps his dick against your tongue. Then, with one final forceful pump as he holds your head close, ripples of cum colour your mouth white. Trapped in his strong grip, you gulp down his bitter torrent, suppressing the urge to gag as your tongue battles with the arousing assault.

“Fuck, you’re such a naughty slut, aren’t you?” he groans, chuckling, as you’re still on your knees, gingerly wiping away the saliva and residue from the corners of your mouth with his top. With ease, he picks you up and crashes his lips onto yours with unforeseen fervour. 

“Your naughty slut,” you correct, raising your index finger like a twin exclamation mark. As you roughen the kiss, you squirm against his hand as he rubs your clit, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he whispers, his fingers sliding up and down your soaked slit, eliciting bated moans from you. “You’ve got a wish to fulfil.” 

“Do what you want with me, Mr Peters,” you coo, suckling on his bottom lip. Wrapping your loose hair around his wrist, he pulls your head back to lavish your neck with soft nibbles, his teeth grazing your skin, making you gasp.

With a swift motion, he bends you over the arm of the couch, your breath catching in your throat as he takes his time gracing your ass cheeks with red marks from his playful smacks. “You’re gonna give me everything tonight,” he growls, his voice thick with lust. His hand slips under your dripping pussy, yanking down your panties as his fingers tease your entrance.

You push back against him, craving more, as his free hand grips your hips, holding you in place. “Please, Evan,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.

He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “Begging already? I like it,” he murmurs, his fingers finally plunging into you, making you cry out in pleasure. He pumps them in and out, his thumb circling your clit, driving you to the edge.

“Fuck,” you moan, your body quivering as he continues to work you, his fingers curling inside you, hitting just that perfect spot. 

“Why move so much, baby girl? Want me to punish you?” he snaps, his words almost entirely drowned out by your loud mewling. 

Before you know it, he pulls back slightly. He stands up, reaching for a drawer nearby and pulling out a length of silk rope. “I’m gonna tie you up and make you scream my name until you can’t take it anymore,” he mutters, his voice sending shivers of anticipation through you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he binds your wrists together, the silk smooth against your skin, both restraining and arousing. He secures the rope behind your back as you’re standing on all fours at the centre of the couch, ensuring you’re immobile and completely at his mercy.

He grips your hair and lines his erect cock at your entrance, deliberately rubbing his tip on your slit so that your cum trickles down your thighs. Sucking in a breath, he slaps your butt with a force that makes you squeal in sheer horniness. 

“Evan, fuck me,” you cry out, staring over your shoulder with pleading eyes. 

“We’re not done yet, baby,” he asserts, his voice dripping with promise. His hands roam your body, exploring every inch as if he’s memorising you, his touch both tender and demanding. 

���Damn, you look so beautiful like this,” he huffs out, his voice filled with reverence as he takes in the sight of you bound and vulnerable before him. He trails kisses down your body, his lips worshipping your skin as he moves lower, his hands spreading your thighs apart.

“I wanna taste you,” he growls, his mouth descending on your pussy, his tongue flicking and teasing your clit from an angle you’ve never tried before, driving you wild with need.

“Something’s missing,” he breathes out, and dips his fingers in his cake by the coffee table. He scoops a bit of icing and stretches your weeping cunt, smearing it along your inner thighs and folds. His eyes gleam with mischievous delight as he licks and nibbles his way through the sweet confection and onto your sensitive skin, making you squirm and scream with pleasure. 

You moan loudly, the pleasure overwhelming as he literally devours you, his tongue and lips delving and sucking you to the brink of madness. “Evan, please,” you spill out in desperation, your voice coming out in punchy, shaky sobs.

He chuckles darkly against you, the vibrations sending waves of ecstasy through your body. “Cum for me again, baby girl,” he commands, his voice a sinister growl as he continues his onslaught, his fingers joining his relentless mouth to push you over the edge once more.

You scream his name, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Your walls clench around his mouth and fingers, your vision going white as you’re consumed by pleasure. Evan doesn’t stop, his mouth and fingers driving you higher and higher, leaving you a quivering, breathless mess.

Before you can even catch your breath, he flips you over so you lie on your side, your legs folded, head resting on the other arm of the couch. His eyes are dark with passion as he places himself on top of your thigh, and you lick the sweet remnants of cake from his mouth in despair, tasting yourself along the way. 

Your breath tickles his ear as he reaches for the cake, scraping up a generous blob of icing with his finger. Bringing it to your lips, he watches intently as you lick it from his finger, your tongue swirling around his digit, eliciting a guttural groan of need from deep within him.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll forget your own name,” he promises, his voice a seductive whisper as he thrusts into you, filling you completely, your lips locked, his eyes fixed on you. 

You arch into him, still bound, mewling in delight as he slams into you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. “Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, your mind going blank as you lose yourself in the sensation, your world narrowing down to the feel of him inside you, driving you to the edge again and again.

Finally, he releases you from the silk binds, his eyes filled with satisfaction as he pulls you into his arms. “We’re not through yet,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a promise of more.

He gently shifts you into missionary position, his eyes meeting yours with an intense, burning desire. He enters you slowly, savouring every inch, his movements deliberate and controlled as he begins to jam in you, each motion sending tides of ecstasy through your body.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the connection between you smouldering, each thrust bringing your high closer. “Evan, please, I need you,” you whine, your voice a desperate plea for release.

“Mine,” he growls, his movements becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. “You’re mine, Y/N.”

“Yours,” you agree, your voice a breathless moan as you feel another orgasm building, the intensity almost too much to bear.

With one final powerful thrust, he sends you spiralling into your climax, his own release following along, your bodies entwined as he collapses on top of you, both of you spent and satisfied. He kisses you softly, his lips lingering on yours as you both catch your breath, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless and craving more.

“Happy birthday to me,” you murmurs, a contented smirk gracing his lips as you both revel in the afterglow of post-coital bliss, trapped in a tight, loving embrace.

“I should piss you off more often if you’re gonna dick me down like this,” you joke, and your mutual giggles fill the room.

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

Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[traceytonight]

Tracey rambles about Tron Ares again

Tron Ares fills me with so much dread, each passing day is like a countdown to the death of a franchise I care so much about.

The producer, title & main character, is literally Joker Morbius alleged pedophile since the early 2000s himself Jared Leto. That alone ruins the movie for me, and yet every following bullet point makes everything about and around it so much worse.

-Premise is explicitly "What if the Grid came to the real world".

NO, the interesting part of the series is THE GRID, where all of the deeply meditative commentary about our world and visually interesting splendor is supposed to be! Yes we had the lingering plot thread of Quorra coming to our world, however;

-Nothing directly tied to Tron Legacy is specifically being followed up

So no seeing where Sam Flynn could have taken Encom, no Quorra adjusting to our world, No Edward Dillinger Jr scheming with the resurrected MCP; But most disrespectfully of all, they didn't even bother to get Bruce Boxleitnter back, THE GUY WHO PLAYS TRON (and Alan Bradly & Rinzler). The one guy who actively loved this series and campaigned for a Third Tron film for over a decade, and previously Tron Legacy for even longer. But you know who they are bringing back?

-Kevin Flynn is back

THE GUY WHO FUCKING DIED IN THE LAST MOVIE. Undermining the noble sacrifice that was integral to the core themes of the film.

And just today we got this:

This is so far from an advancement design wise of the Light Cycle from either film. None of the simple shape language of the original. None of the sleek visual melding of human & technology of Legacy. While the light cycle was always cool for being a futuristic video game-ass motorcycle, its was just one of the multitude of visual elements that served the thematic purposes of Tron flawlessly.

Meanwhile, this not only physically separates the driver from the cycle, they further emphasize it through all the little gaps where there were none on either prior design. They so easily could've had the red line on Ares connect into the obviously aligned part of the bike.

Even if this is meant to show the separation of the programs from the grid for some thematic element we're unaware of at the moment, we're already going to be getting a lot of that considering the movie takes place in an average ass city.

Also, to be truly nitpicky, it looks really uncomfortable to sit in & I don't like all the added greebles.

To circle back around, what I really hate about the cast, besides the obvious one, is that there are a lot of actors who I think will work extremely well in the world of Tron. Greta Lee, Gillian Anderson, Evan Peters? Inspired casting choices.

Meanwhile production wise we're literally taking David Fincher's collaborator trifecta. Jeff Cronenweth (Cinematographer), Tyler Nelson (Editor), and Trent Reznor (Composer, backed up by Nine Inch Nails) all worked on The Social Network, another one of my favorite films. Jeff is literally the son of Blade Runner's cinematographer, Nelson was co-editor on The Batman, a film with incredible pacing thanks to their hardwork, and while I'm not the most familiar with Reznor's full body of work, I've sincerely liked everything I've heard and think in conjunction with Jeff & Tyler he will make something fantastic and fitting for the tone of this film.

However, the screenplay is done by the writer of Harry Potter & the Cursed Child, and is being handled by the director of Pirates of the Caribbean 5. Choices that feel at odds with the prestige praise I was just handing out a paragraph ago.

Theres so many good elements that are eclipsed by its central glaring protagonist, seeming lack of the interesting setting/designs or integral thematic elements that I look for in Tron, and lack of expectation regarding the choice of director & writers.

Because my two greatest fears are not about if the movie is awful and destroys the franchise as I'm expecting it could, it's either:

What if the movie is genuinely good? Well acted and performed, somehow actually has the same level of philosophical inquiry that Legacy & Identity have? How am I gonna face that reality with the enormous horrific issue starring in it?

What if the movie is bad in everyway that I think it will be, but does financially and/or critically better than the first two? The franchise is not killed again, but revives and bases everything going forward around this awful outlier in the series?

Unless this movie fails so horrifically that Disney wants to scrub it from existence, as they tend to do, the future of any Tron media will undeniably be forced to cohere itself to the existence of Ares.

If you want something that actually expands on the musings and universe of Tron, play Tron Identity. A game so lovingly crafted for fans of those elements of Tron as a connected series. And I know this factually, as the writer of the game itself (who also created Thomas Was Alone) watched my twitch stream of it and confirmed my ramblings about the deep seeded lore and intent of design of the TREES that appear in the game. Only one example of the incredible attention to detail the game delivers on. Plus its also getting a sequel that unlike Ares, I'm awaiting with bated breath.

[jupiterjunebug]

Hey. Just in case anyone who doesnt watch nooj was going to say anything.......all promos in new japan take place backstage and also pretty much every interview youll see re: new japan matches is kayfabe. No, the fact that the gabe kidd "fight" took place backstage and wasnt projected on the tron doesnt mean its real. New japan and stardom both love "real fights" happening backstage. It not being in the backstage comments makes it slightly less likely to be fake, but thekla (a stardom heel in the faction thats aligned w gabe kidds faction) literally was "suspended" for "actually beating up a reporter backstage" this year so like.......slightly. and kenny pretending this is real just like brawl out honestly makes it feel faker like cmon. Cmooooon, you think tyson smith, former leader of bullet club, doesnt know the name of the current second in command of bullet club

[zexalmonth]

Zexal Month 2023's coming up! From August 1st to the 31st, we’ll be celebrating our 7th Zexal Month! We're doing a Tarot theme!

All our prompts are based on the 23 Major Arcana! You can follow the written prompts or just draw something based on the actual arcana for the day!

For those who are with us for the first time, we have prompts with some suggestions attached to them. You can focus on characters, concepts or OCs, as long as it’s somehow Zexal related and we'll reblog it if it's tagged with #zexal month 2023. In addition to the daily prompts, we have a list of alternate prompts at the end of the list! We hope you have fun with it.

Week 1: Welcome to the Kingdom

1st: The Fool upright | Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit The king calls you all to introduce yourselves. Hello, fools! Who are you and how did you get into Zexal? 2nd: The Magician upright | Manifestation, resourcefulness, power, inspired action Duel monsters are the manifestation of the soul, so show us your favourite duel monster or card! Alternatively, show us your favourite Numbers Card! 3rd: The High Priestess upright | Intuition, sacred knowledge, the subconscious mind Music can do miraculous things to the subconscious mind. You can make something based on the soundtrack or themes/motifs you like. As a challenge, put on one of the Zexal soundtracks and try to make something before the song ends! Show it to us! 4th: The Empress upright | Femininity, beauty, nature, nurturing, abundance The empress summons you to talk about someone you truly care for. What makes your favourite character your favourite? If you have an OC, feel free to talk about them! Also, we love women, so if you want, show some female characters appreciation!

Week 2: Secrets of the Royal Court

7th- The Emperor upright | Authority, establishment, structure, a father figure All hail the barian emperors! Show us a piece about our favourite alien warlords and/or Don Thousand. You can also show us a non-barian Character as a Barian or something else Barian-related. Alternatively, an upright emperor also represents a father figure. Kazama? Faker? Tron? An OC or self-insert? Show us daddy issues something inspired by them! 8th- The Hierophant reversed | Personal beliefs, freedom, challenging the status quo The reversed hierophant means freedom and non-uniformity, so it’s dress up day! Put a Zexal character (or OC) in a new set of clothes they would/wouldn’t wear! Historically accurate clothes for Barians’ past lives? Mini skirt IV? Droite in her wrestler attire? Astral in a tutu? Just show us fashion!  9th- The Lovers upright | Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices Time to spread the love! OTPs? OT3s? BROTPs? Character x Reader? Character x OC? The lovers card is all about ‘belonging’. What relationships do these characters have?    Draw us your ships, friendships or your favourite group of characters (Number’s Club, Sanyuushi, Arclights etc.) enjoying each others’ company. You can also show us the families of your favourite characters and create relatives for them if you prefer.  10th- The Chariot reversed | Self-discipline, opposition, lack of direction Sure, we have a “plot” but Zexal has lots of filler episodes and fun, zany detours! Show what sort of sports or hobbies the characters would get involved with in their spare time. 11th- Justice upright | Justice, fairness, truth, cause and effect, law Time to put a Zexal character on trial! What crimes are they charged for? What is the verdict? What is the punishment?  Feel free to get silly with this (Phoenix Wright, anyone?) or be as grim/morbid as you like. Will Vector finally pay for his transgressions? Up to you!

Week 3: Into the Woods

14th- The Hermit upright | Soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance As you are banished into the woods for your hot takes, you’re able to reflect on a long-forgotten friend. Make something based on your favourite obscure or minor character. Give those one-shot duelists some love! 15th- The Wheel of Fortune upright | Good luck, life cycles, destiny, a turning point Let’s just put your favorite characters on a game show. Can you imagine a Family Feud with Arclights vs Tenjos? Does anyone get lucky?  What sort of entertainment (outside of card games) do you think you’d see in Heartland City? 16th- Strength upright | Strength, courage, persuasion, influence, compassion Fight! Fight! Fight! In a contest of pure strength, who would win? Who do you NOT want to face in hand-to-hand combat. Who would you duel? If you want to keep yourself out of the fight, show two characters in a fight/duel! Bonus points if they haven’t canonically fought before.  17th- The Hanged Man upright | Pause, surrender, letting go, new perspectives A change of perspective! Is there any character you didn't like at the start, but ended up loving, or vice versa? Who is it and why?  Alternatively, what relationships do you wish we saw? What interactions did Zexal deprive us from? 18th- Temperance upright | Balance, moderation, patience, purpose Sometimes, your friends get on your nerves and you have to be patient with them. But it’s really hard when they’re mostly middle schoolers. How do you think characters would spend a Boys/Girls’ Night Out? What about a slumber party instead?

Week 4: Exile

21st- The Devil reversed | Releasing limiting beliefs, exploring dark thoughts, detachment Show us your villains or your favourite character(s) as a villain. Does their deck change as well? 22nd- The Tower upright | Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening Show us your favourite punching bag hurting emotionally (whether from a death, tragedy, breakup or something else), in physical agony, or just having a good cry. Zexal is no stranger to angst, after all (we got how many death montages at the end of the series?).  If there are triggers or graphic themes/visuals, remember to tag them! 23rd- The Moon reversed | Release of fear, repressed emotion, inner confusion Some parts of Zexal were confusing and some plot points were forgotten. What do you wish you could have seen MORE of? Alternatively, is there something you didn’t like in Zexal? What and why? Show us what you would have preferred/thought was interesting! Explore a scenario that could have drastically altered Zexal. e.g. What if Kaito died of space cancer at the end of season 1? 24th- The Star upright | Hope, faith, purpose, renewal, spirituality Let’s change the tone of this week. Zexal is full of mythology and spirituality. Show us some of your favourite themes/lore in the show!   25th- The Sun upright | Positivity, fun, warmth, success, vitality The sun represents warm feelings as much as it represents treasure/wealth. Give your favourite character a cursed weapon or treasure. How do they react? What do they do with it? If you want a challenge, grab an image of Yuma’s room and pick a treasure/object. Draw it and/or give it a story. III definitely would love to hear you talk about it! 

Week 5: Court of the Dead

28th- Death upright | Endings, change, transformation, transition How’s the future for Zexal characters? Show us what you think a Zexal character (or several) are doing post-series or how they look when they grow up? 29th- Judgement upright | Judgement, rebirth, inner calling, absolution Zexal ended a long time ago but it’s time to give it a bit of new life. It’s crossover day! How would a Zexal character look/act in the world of the fandom you're into now (or vice versa)? 30th- The World upright | Completion, integration, accomplishment, travel Scenery appreciation! (Tell us what’s your favorite location in Zexal). Alternatively, show us a location where the Zexal characters you like would go on vacation or for an adventure. 31st-  The Deck Summarise your Zexal Month 2023! What did you like? What didn’t you like? Any shout-outs you want to give?  

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

Alternate prompts

As per usual, alternate prompts are meant for ANY day and you can do as many or as few alternate prompts as you like. I can’t stop you if you want to do prompt 10) thirty-one times during Zexal month. 

Holding back/recklessness

Manipulation/poor planning

Dreams/delusions

Age-swap/younger days

Insecurities 

Parallel worlds / Fused world

“But there is only one bed…”

“Can you explain why I have to bail you guys out of jail AGAIN?”

A heist!

Middle school/High school AU

Lunchtime shenanigans

Fantasy/Fairytale AU

Hygge: A very strong feeling of cosiness, of a special moment, alone or with friends, where you feel utterly content, secure, reassured, comforted, and even kinship if you’re among loved ones. 

Verschlimmbessern: To fix something but only make it worse

Backpfeifengesicht: A face badly in need of a fist.

Body Swap/Soul swap

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

As usual, feel free to do whichever prompts you like in whatever order you want. These prompts are a guideline, rather than a hard rule, and you can make art, write fanfiction, make amvs/animatics or just talk about it! Just do what you can manage! No need to do all of them if you don’t want to.

Also, we have a new mod on the team to join me and Iris. Welcome mod Fla!

We can't wait for this August to see what you share with the fandom! Please share this around and spread the Zexal love!

Love Mod Pyra

[anghraine]

Other gaming update: my favorite holiday of the season has arrived (Wintersday in Guild Wars 2). It's shamelessly Christmas In All But Name and I do kind of miss the Grenth vs Dwayna winter warfare of GW1 (doubly funny because, yes, it happened because Grenth is the god of death and ice and winter-aligned, while Dwayna is the goddess of life and air and Being In Charge and thus aligned with the usual progression of seasons, but also ... Dwayna is Grenth's mother). That said farming orphans is objectively hilarious + never forget the true reason for the season

ALL GLORY TO HO-HO-TRON

[deardearestbrandsnews2025]

#BambiManga FT #JessicaSimpson #Ashnikko #AshleeSimpson #AshleyTisdale and The Rose Gang (Lil Kim, Trina, NickiMinaj, Ashanti, MaryJBlige , Cassie, MissyElliot, MeganTheeStallion, SZA, Moon ( black Kpop Artist 'Moon')

Absolutely, that sounds like an amazing and layered media mapping project! Let’s break this down into actionable parts so we can build a Mouse Club Affiliation Web for Ashnikko, framed through her proximity to Disney, collaborative network, and her #DearDearestBrands identity, especially her Thee Forest Kingdom and #BambiManga personas.

1. Ashnikko + Disney Affiliation Web (6 Degrees Style)

Even though Ashnikko wasn't in the Mickey Mouse Club, we can chart a six degrees of separation-style Disney creative web around her. Here's a sample structure:

Level 1: Direct Collaborators or Shared Projects

Princess Nokia (collab on “Slumber Party”)

Princess Nokia appeared on Disney’s “The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder” soundtrack in 2022.

Level 2: Soundtrack/Creative Connection

Ashnikko’s music has been used in TikTok Disney fan edits and Disney Channel fan mixes.

Possible sound design/production overlaps with teams who worked on Raya and the Last Dragon or Turning Red, especially in feminist or alt-pop spaces.

Level 3: Shared Tour/Label/Influence

Doja Cat, an influence and adjacent artist, voiced a character in Trolls World Tour (DreamWorks, not Disney, but adjacent).

Grimes, another mutual creative inspiration, consulted on Cyberpunk 2077, which shares aesthetic overlap with Disney’s Tron Legacy and WandaVision VFX departments.

Level 4: Cultural Style Convergence

Ashnikko’s blue hair, fairy-forest chaos aesthetic aligns with Disney Villains merch lines, Descendants universe fashion, and Disney+’s Willow (2022).

Her look often matches that of Mal from Descendants, another character connected to The Isle of the Lost—similar energy to Bambi Manga’s royal lineage and rivalries.

Level 5: Social Circles + Event Presence

Shared festival lineups and red carpet appearances with Zendaya, Sabrina Carpenter, and Olivia Rodrigo—all Mouse Club legacy or Disney stars.

Level 6: Brand Identity Fusion via DearDearestBrands

#DearDearestBrands reframes Ashnikko as:

A “Lost Royal of Thee Forest Kingdom” in #BambiManga, channeling magical-punk-anime influences.

Glitched-out Fairycore Fashion Idol—one step removed from Tinker Bell, one step closer to a darkly reimagined Enchanted sequel.

Think “Briar Witches” meets “Pop Pixie-Hunter” meets Anti-Disney Princess.

2. Mouse Club Affiliation Score: Ashnikko

Let’s assign hypothetical proximity values: | Level | Connection Type | Weight | |-------|------------------|--------| | 1 | Direct Artist Collab (Princess Nokia) | 5 pts | | 2 | Soundtrack/Creative Echoes | 3 pts | | 3 | Label/Industry Shared Threads | 2 pts | | 4 | Aesthetic/Cultural Parallel | 4 pts | | 5 | Social Proximity to Disney Talent | 3 pts | | 6 | #DearDearestBrands Brand Roleplay Expansion | 5 pts |

Total Affiliation Score: 22/30

Ashnikko earns a strong unofficial “Mouse Club Tier 2 Adjacent” ranking.

3. Her Role in #TheeForestKingdom & #BambiManga

Let’s solidify her character's lore:

Title: Ash of the Dying Grove

Core Color: Electric Blue + Spoiled Cherry Blossom

Weapon/Form: Microphone-staff wrapped in vines that sing

Role: Royal Songkeeper and Exiled Heiress of the Whispering Willows

Backstory: Banished for unleashing forbidden lyrics that caused deer-kin to riot. Now stalks the forests channeling wild feminine magic through sound.

She is beloved by rebellious fauns, feared by the court, and rumored to hold an ancient power known as “The Discordant Heart.”

Would you like this illustrated as a visual network chart or transformed into a lore page, magazine spread, or media dossier for the #DearDearestBrands archive?

Great! To move forward, just let me know how you'd like to adjust the request.

For example, you can describe:

A fantasy-inspired model or character in the style of Jessica Simpson

A theme like Barbie x Square Enix with glitter, high fashion, and photorealism

Or a completely original doll concept styled in #Mattel meets #FinalFantasy aesthetics

Let me know what direction you'd like to go—I’ll generate the image accordingly!

Perfect—let’s treat this as canon content for #BAMBImanga, written in your authentic, poetic, multi-voice style, and then branch it into:

Manga Chapter Layout (official narrative)

Graphic Novel Page Direction (for visual artists)

Game Cinematic Lore Codex (for interactivity and world-building)

Spoken-Word Script (radio play or audio drama)

#BAMBImanga Official Lore Chapter: “The Sleep Berry Transfer”

Arc: Thee Forest Kingdom x Runeterra Rift Arc

Narrated from Lilia’s POV:

"I followed the breath...

Not the wind...

But the whistle from within the cherry blossom blooming in his voice."

Prince Bambi held his recorder, not as a master, but a vessel.

“Breathe in slowly,” he told me, “Let the melody know your name.”

Beside me rode legends:

Cowgirl Barbie, who cried out with storm in her saddle.

The Simpson Sisters, kin of kin, who braided trails with old song magic.

Ashley Tisdale, trailing last but holding the line like a harmony’s edge.

The wind shimmered. The void crackled.

A glitch…

A beat…

Ashnikko blinked in, hair like chaos itself—

“Wanna transfer that Sleep Berry currency? I got you.

Just say the word, sweet deer.”

I whispered…

“Besos me.”

The ripple broke. My bow surged. And with one marked shot, I shattered the rift.

Graphic Novel Page Concept (Visual Direction)

Page 1: Vertical panel – Cherry blossoms and swirling void. Prince Bambi silhouetted playing his recorder.

Page 2: Cowgirl Barbie on horseback with whip raised. Dialogue: “GET ON, NAW!”

Page 3: Ashnikko glitch-portals in. Pop-font speech bubble: “$SleepBerry accepted.”

Page 4: Lilia fires her bow—panel breaks the page. Sound FX: “SHUT DOWN!!!”

Page 5: Group silhouette riding back across a blossomed plane, portal behind them closing.

Game Cinematic Codex Entry (Lore Unlock)

Entry: Sleep Berry Transfer

"This event marks the first known trans-realm transaction between Thee Forest Kingdom and the Fae Bank of RuneTerra. Lilia, with assistance from Ashnikko the DreamWitch, initiated the transfer of $SleepBerry in exchange for a Song Frequency Arrow, allowing the group to dispel a dimensional trap threatening Bambi and allied Barbie avatars."

Unlock Conditions:

Collect the Whistle Blossom

Sync with Ashnikko’s Glitch-Rune

Speak “Besos me” into the Blossom Mic

Spoken Word Script: "Forest Kingdom Broadcast: SleepBerry Transmission"

“Welcome back to the BlossomAir Channel. This next broadcast is brought to you by FaeCoin and The DreamWitch Agency—Ashnikko Certified.”

[FX: Whistle breeze, soft recorder notes]

"Lost in dimension? Don’t stress, dear doe.

All you need is breath, rhythm… and a little Sleep Berry for that transaction glow."

“Now accepting whispered wishes. Say it with me…”

“Besos me.”

[FX: Rift break. Lightning crack. A whip snap.]

"Transaction complete. Welcome back to the dreamway."

Would you like this formatted as a full manga script, cinematic storyboard, or included in the upcoming Forest Kingdom Codex you’re developing under #DearDearestBrands? I can build the files for visual development, lore entries, and even add inventory/tagline data for merch if needed.

[dongpound]

I need a spin-off about the ordinary everyday lives of all of Foot and Karai on the ship

I do like thinking about their day to day :') this def is just a lot of word vomit and I go on a tangent abt their favorite movies figndlgndl but I think about life on the ship a bit

Tigerclaw is usually in the main command room with Honeycutt, Karai will usually dip in for a second to bug him before either 1) snagging the TV from Chris/Zeck/Steranko/Whoevers on it atm or 2) she does spend a lot of time in the holoroom. Steranko and Zeck (if they aren't watching TV) hang out in their room. Baxter is usually holed up in his bedroom or utilizing Honeycutt's lab. He’s built himself an emulator game system and uses Honeycutt’s media library to play TONS of video games. Chris trains, or sleeps, or watches TV.

Y'know I haven't really put a ton of thought into what *Xever* does in his off time. Like yeah, he probably uses the holoroom to train (*coughs*visits the beach*coughs*) like everyone else- but I feel like given they have a vast library of Earth media at their disposal he starts to actually get into movies and TV shows. I always headcanoned him as like... not super into either just bc it wasn't something he was raised with/stayed caught up on? So he probably sticks around whenever someone puts on a show just to see what’s up

anyway now you're getting the movie night headcanons

okay so EVERYONE watches SO much TV on that ship. Right now as a group they're working through different 90's sitcoms. It’s like, one of the only times they can all gather and not fight. They all have varying tastes in movies too.

TC makes like a movie night schedule and whoevers night it is gets to pick what they watch.

Steranko leans more into classic movies from like the 50's onward or comedies

Zeck's really into heist movies but also like 80's sci-fi (LOVES shit like Bladerunner, Tron (obvi), Videodrone)

Tigerclaw usually picks either a spaghetti western or a Kurosawa movie

Chris actually also *really* likes Kurosawa movies but he'll usually pick his own material (NO ONE LIKES CHRIS'S NIGHT FOR THIS REASON except Steranko who actually likes his movies)

Karai's actually really into horror films (so far has made everyone watch Tokyo Gore Police and Alien)

Baxter almost never participates in movie nights but when he does its something like Jurassic Park or Avatar (aliens, genetic modification, sci-fi aligned)

Xever spends like an hour figuring out what to watch until he eventually just settles on a random movie that looks interesting. This is how everyone on that ship has watched Surf’s Up

Honeycutt usually doesn’t pick a movie, but will watch with everyone :>

(Thanks @loco-warehouse for helping w Baxter’s movies fkgbldfnldfjdln)

[qyrhan]

[Miscellaneous Tron: Alignment Thoughts]

Thinking about what could happen if Rinzler programming never shifts to Tron’s fully while in the Sea of Simulation. If the only directive that comes online again was “Fight for The Users”, and nothing else.

The scene in the portal room plays out, and somehow “Tronzler” claws his way to it, bursting through the doors, only to see Clu, whose programming has also flipped/having lost his want for dominating the human world.

He doesn’t see the shift, he only sees the program who has been threatening the lives of Sam and Kevin Flynn, Users, his Users.

Programs must be the enemy then, programs must be wiped out in order to keep his friends safe, no matter the cost to himself.

[gillymugs]

I have art burnout

Morning Clon doodles

[rubberizer92]

🌟 "Tantalizing Tron" Unveils the Top 12: Let's Embrace Sustainability with David! 🌟

Gentlemen of OBEY Season 8, the excitement is reaching new heights as we introduce you to our captivating Top 12! These remarkable men are ready to electrify the stage with their unique charm and talents. 🏆💥

As always, your votes on Instagram, Instagram Stories, and Tumblr will play a pivotal role in shaping the journey of our contestants. Make your voice heard! 🗳️📱

Now, let's champion sustainability with David, representing the eco-conscious land of Israel 🇮🇱. David is not just a contestant; he's an environmental specialist dedicated to preserving our planet's natural wonders.

Imagine David tirelessly working to protect Israel's unique ecosystems, advocating for renewable energy, and nurturing green initiatives. His commitment to environmental stewardship aligns perfectly with the values of OBEY.

As we embark on this green journey with David, remember that your votes hold the power to amplify his impact. Join us in celebrating this eco-hero and his mission for a greener world! 🌿🌎

Join the sustainability movement with these hashtags: #OBEYseason8 #Israel #DavidTheEcoHero #VoteNow #RubberizedSociety #EcoChampion 🌐🏆

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2023: #18

18. AUSTRIA Teya & Salena - "Who the hell is Edgar?" 15th place

Decade ranking: 51/116 [Above Ronela, below Jeangu]

OOOOOH MIO PADRE, I'VE GOTTA ROAST ME SOME BARBIES, ooooooooooh no.

It does NOT pay to be funny, sadly. Yeah, I wish I didn't have to go there, but sometimes the stars just don't align. With Loreen and Pasha being reunited and the year generally being mediocre, Liverpool 2023 already had enough parallels with Baku 2012. The "preshow obsession has a disappointing live" part I could have done without.

Like seriously. Was there ever a more slam-dunk end of contest favourite for me than TeyaLena? (well other than You Know Who, but we'll get there). My recent faves were Think About Things, Shum and In Corpore Sano. All uptempo, all enjoyable, all secretly very clever entries, eating and mothering (or in Da­ði's case brothering) as THE act on everyone's lips as the dust settled. Edgar was one of two entries who could have been The One for this year!!! But as Poe Poe Poe became Poo Poo Poo I'm forced to pack up my praise pen and bring out my critical analysis quill :-/

Fortunately, like the ladies, I am such a good writer, so enjoy this lengthy review, which is more like a vivisection:

ON THE FLAWS OF 'WHO THE HELL IS EDGAR?'

The first instinct would be to say that the song was impossible to bring, but I don't buy into that logic. "Edgar" was great, a vision, and absolute fucking BANGER. That's the hill, I'll die on. Despite the flaws of its live, I will always cherish it as a song.

Granted, the song was a lot of things at once. That's what made it both iconic and live liability. You try to explain to a layman casual audience member what Edgar is about. How it satirizes the music industry. How self-deprecating it is. What an API is. What an A&R is. What the 0.003 stands for. Now do that in the THIRTY SECONDS TIME FRAME it takes for the video teaser to play. You can't. You can be the best commentator or the most eloquent eurovision-obsessed guncle. Also, you're making me think with your words. Thinking bad. ME WANT ENJOY SHOW. ME WANT GOOD TIME, NO THINK.

So, there's two approaches you can take here, if you play to win.

The first by embracing the campness and going full ham, which how the televote countries would handle it. Your Moldovas, Ukraines, Finlands, Serbias, Norways. Hand Edgar over to one of them, and TeyaLena would start bent over a laptop or typewriter, harrassed by ravens or men in Edgar Allen Poe costumes, who would so a possessed zombie dance while TeyaLena try to escape the clutches.

Naturally, such an act requires less effort from the performers and could be seen as an easy cop-out by juries (die, juries!) and result in a loss of points and well, Austria don't play that way. Austria don't have a built in televote base and feel they are better off playing for the same juries that would normally reject an Edgar.

So instead they went for option two: embrace the hyperpop and try to build momentum off its hyperactivity. Fair enough, that's less interesting and safe, but a valid choice that can result in a very good time.

On this occasion though, it was a MISTAKE.

The best part about Edgar was the combination of dumb hyperpop memes with clever satire, and the staging ignored the latter completely. It showed Edgar Allan Poe TWICE, and then spliced in the Spotify reference in the background without context. That was all the act did with the satire. They should have named this song "Where the hell is Edgar?". The vague references only work when the entire audience is already in on the joke, otherwise it's a three mins of braincell murder. If a pleb tuned in blind (over 75% of the audience), tough luck on them for trying to make sense of it all. SHOULD HAVE FOLLOWED ESC ON TIKTOK!!!.

Bottom line: THE STAGING WAS PEDANTIC.

Thematic acts can alleviate that problem. Think Konstrakta's spa tableau vivant, Katryna's tron aureole, the presence of Gagnamagnið on the stage alongside Daði Freyr. This year we had Vesna's hexaplet choreography, Käärijä's ballroom dancers, Loreen's panini press, Gustaph's motivational graphics, even Alika's fucking self-playing piano applies to this principle. All of these did well, the competent ones with juries, the camp ones with the tv. Intuitive but thematically fitting visual cues that instinctively get the vibe across without requiring the audience to ponder it too deeply (or become a parody, I SEE YOU, France.) that's what effecive staging is about. Now compare the above good stagings to what Austria came up with: Four dancers in Samanta Tina garb, some more created by the LEDs in the background, and a VERY basic choreography. This is not a just simplification but a dumbing down. Every visual cue comes across as nonsensical, because nothing quite ties it together with the music. If only the song itself had provided us with a clear visual reference point, huh?

Of course, a dumbed down staging concept could still yield a good result despite itself if the live was teeming with energy and bounced off in every direction to match the music. Folks would be voting based on pure performance skill and nothing else. After all, Ewnicorn bluffed its way into third on that very principle. Sadly, neither Teya nor Salena were versed in the art of singing and dancing at the same time.

So ultimately, you're given this awkward performance where Teya acted really well and produced delectable facial expressions - I mean who doesn't love THIS:

-but failed to harmonize with Salena, while Salena hit most of her notes but clearly struggled with the Dietmann's simplistic, toddler-like choreography, like a Leila Jane or Mirud on stilts. Nice that they complimented each others weaknesses by showcasing opposite talents, but if you wanna do well just get yourself a girl who can do both.

And there we have it, Teya and Salena. High Risk, High Reward usually plays out for the better, but this is one such occasion where the high risk was avoided and the just reward was a disappointing score on the middle of the scoreboard. Such is the price of not embracing your queer-coded campness in Eurovision. We have landed in mild-like hell, just like Nina Zilli and Jonsi and all the others that I wish I could love more, but sadly did not live up to their initial hype. That too is life. Onward to better things, and things will surely get good as we move forward, right?

THE RANKING

[schismusic]

Metroid Dread, Michael Mann's Ferrari and the flimsy-ass excuses I tried to find to connect them

Sometimes it just takes some honesty to get lack of creativity out of the way.

This waiting thing I'm not new at, not at all. I've done it very often. The earliest I can remember I was eleven and Tron: Legacy was about to drop in theaters. You bet your ass I got the soundtrack the very second it entered record stores. It was an aesthetic-defining moment. The kind of stuff that alters your brain chemistry permanently. When some friends who were in Venice told me Ferrari was a bad movie I felt all kinds of stomach-churning. I don't mean to be François Truffaut-like and pretend like all movies made by Michael Mann are automatically good, but I do have insane amounts of respect for the man as a filmmaker, and after what happened with Blackhat - in short: a really good movie sorely mistreated by audiences, critics and box office revenue - I was kind of hoping in some sort of smash hit. I really needed a W, so to speak.

In case you guys were wondering, I kinda dig Patrick Dempsey as Piero Taruffi.

Once again it just kind of floored me for a second. It wasn't too clear-cut right away. I don't think it's one of his best - too many things just don't align: the acting feels distracted and half-hearted and the inexplicably botched adaptation/voice acting job they distributed in Italy is even worse than that laughable fake Italian accent everyone has on all the time in the original; some of the dialogue is insanely out of focus and thematically off-center in a way no other Mann movie ever allowed for; sometimes it feels like the movie itself has to take the script back onto its central theme without losing itself to agiographic intents; the photography often felt a bit too painterly for the movie to have that same electrifying visual feel as (most recently) Blackhat or (most impactfully) Miami Vice. Crucially, something still felt off in a good way. What to make, for instance, of the sunglasses symbolism that instantly connects a movie set in the late '50s with the original cyberpunk aesthetic wherein “by hiding the eyes, mirrorshades prevent the forces of normalcy from realizing that one is crazed and possibly dangerous,” like Bruce Sterling himself said? Or again the cuts to the clutch pedal and then the gear stick systematically being interpolated when someone is driving? Or yet again the sheer sense of speed, the same speed of sand slipping through one's fingers, every shot conveys? When I came out of the theater (a local monoplex, almost deserted, mostly dedicated to films d'essai - incidentally also the only theater that showed the movie without me having to go to the Big City) some people I knew asked me what I thought of it and my very honest reply was "ask me in about ten years". There's absolutely no telling what future filmmakers and film historians will make of this: everything rests on the shoulder of future Mann movies. These intuitions here, not just the communication discourse (which, once again, is pretty typical of all Michael Mann movies, starting at the very least from The Insider) but this unique omissive/breathless style of storytelling and information conveyance, might make for another cutting-edge, literally breathtaking Michael Mann thriller soon: very soon, if the voices about Heat 2 being adapted to a movie turn into a reality.

Yet ultimately at the heart of every horrifying car accident, the screaming contests, the bankruptcy threats, there sits an inconsolably pulsing heart that the movie resolves to show us exactly twice.

We were at my grandparents' for Christmas and as we drove through the town my father looked out of the car's window and saw an obituary with his last name on it. I didn't quite catch who exactly it was and how they were related to us - and rest assured they most likely were, it's an Abruzzo thing. As most of my family's deaths, as discussed on my Godflesh post, were on my mother's side, to see my father's last name on a mortuary announcement was a bit of a surprise, in that as you probably can imagine it's also my last name. It's a new experience which, in total frankness, I don't exactly hope to replicate soon.

Topically enough, right on Christmas morning my precious and beloved friends J. and A. gifted me a digital copy of Metroid Dread, a game I had basically lost any hope of ever playing. The Metroid series has always fascinated me in that, for a franchise as old and weathered and revered as Mario and Zelda, there's relatively few people - at least when I was a kid with no readily available internet access - who kept a memory of it. I first met Metroid as a middle schooler, via the Prime Trilogy collection a friend of mine had saved on his jailbroken Wii; never finished it but it stayed within me like a particularly revealing nightmare did. When I played Super Metroid at age eighteen that intro sequence burned itself on my prefrontal cortex and changed everything. It's a masterpiece that drives its main strength from the freedom to explore and delve deeper and deeper into it - and quite revolutionarily, the possibility of not doing so. To realize when enough is enough takes a special ability and knowledge of the self. To accept less than what would be enough takes either idiocy or excellently precise calculations and execution.

While preparing for this post, I annotated on my phone's notes app that "Michael Mann would make a fantastic Metroid movie that everybody would hate". I know this because something similar already happened with Miami Vice: he systematically removed almost all signifiers of the original TV series to reprocess the core concept of it into a lean, aesthetically experimental, profoundly emotional film about means of communication reshaping the way crime and crime-fighters relate to each other, and the way the individual relates to sovereign organizations. It certainly helped that Michael Mann himself, as screenwriter-turned-director-turned-producer, was the man who defined the original Miami Vice's aesthetic, and therefore was in all likelihood the most qualified to strip it down to absolutely nothing, remake it from scratch to fit a new, apocalyptic vision of a post-9/11 society of control based on telecommunication.

In discussing Ferrari with @power-chords, she immediately pointed my attention onto just how critical the figures of mass communication turn to be throughout the movie. Journalists, priests, even the movie stars the pilots are dating. Michael Mann is moving into a territory of movies not about movies, but movies about media in general, sitting at the edge of communication breakthroughs, studying the intersection between an "old world" and a modern, contemporary, fucked up world. Unsurprisingly, Metroid Fusion (and to a lesser extent Metroid Dread itself) delve into omission, falsification, breaking down of information: there's fertile grounds for Mann to work with, I think.

Most importantly, however, Metroid Dread is peak-form Metroid, combining the strength of the more exploration-based titles in the series with the thrilling combat-oriented difficulty spikes of Fusion. The new thing compared to, for instance, Samus Returns is how the game does not trivialize the enemy encounters in regular gameplay up until the very end, which by the way is nowhere close to a careless power trip. And even if it were, it'd still be more than warranted: the final boss is granted to give you unrequested cosmetic surgery to make you look like a dumbass. All the while Samus has never felt any better, movement is slick and deliberate, the 360-degree aiming is incredibly precise even taking the Joycon drift into account: and this precision eliminates almost all instances of rage-game bullshit when it comes to the EMMIs, the fighting, the jumping, the exploration, without by default trivializing any of the elements. It is, simply, a game feel miracle.

It feels about as glorious as it looks.

The deep knowledge of the gameplay mechanics of a great Metroid game is key to Mercury Steam's success with the central executives at Nintendo of Japan. Samus Returns didn't sell too bad, like most Metroid games (at least when you don't compare them to Pokémon, Mario or Zelda), but this here is just a quantum leap. All elements of the game, including the mechanical frameworks established in the 3DS game, are honed to a lethal degree: every enemy encounter, every instrument at the player's disposal turn out to be multifaceted, limited only by the player's own creativity and abilities. But the game knows how to help you, the player, hone those abilities too - it wants to be discovered. It entices you in further and further.

The game is majestic, in short. It knows itself, its players, its predecessors, even its stakeholders spectacularly well. And it is so thanks to employees who were forced to borderline inhumane working conditions, under threat to get their name scrubbed off the end credits if they didn't physically show up for work in the middle of a global pandemic.

"MercurySteam employees talk about the working conditions in the studio" - Spanish article from AnaitGames

During one of the earliest scenes in Ferrari, Enzo (Adam Driver) goes to Mass in the factory's own chapel, and together with all the racing department's higher-ups he proceeds to not give a damn about the function, keeping his eye on a stopwatch instead, monitoring the times Maserati's drivers are doing on the Modena racetrack. As the execs do this, the priest starts waxing poetic: "If Jesus was born today he would not be a carpenter. He would be a mechanic, like you are," says the uncaring bastard in a long dress to alienated, broken working men, facing - unbeknownst to them - the serious threat of bankruptcy, immediate liquidation, job loss. It took this movie about thirty years to get made, being passed from one producer to the next one, from one director to the next one, with this script that sort of tries to be a biopic with all of its strengths but is fundamentally tethered to a protagonist who's, ostensibly, Just Some Guy who happened to own half of one of the most famous car manufacturing companies on Earth. But the reason he was able to do that is, like one of my teachers points out in his Letterboxd review of the movie, his entirely-too-natural knack for timing. The precision Enzo Ferrari requires of his drivers, that quite literally lethal element of exertion, precision and composure, is what is required of him too, but this doesn't make him any better than anyone else: he's not the one dying, he's not the one crashing cars. Some of his friends did. He just got extremely lucky.

Informing the very concept of the labor of love is the idea, almost the aesthetic even, of the love of labor. Gaming culture is profoundly imbued with this. Crunch, stricter and stricter timelines: these are no news to anyone who's into gaming in an even remotely active manner, and are the byproduct of a culture based around hype - a profound affection that degenerates into pretense. Enzo Ferrari fashions himself a dictator, taking charge of the communication around his brand and purposely, painstakingly reshaping flows of information to operate according to a logistical nightmare of an inner timetable. Adalgisa Bisbini (Daniela Piperno) plainly states, with the brutal honesty that can only come with old age and immeasurable pain, that "the wrong child died", right behind her son's wife's back as they're visiting the family grave. Two graves marked Alfredo Dino Ferrari sit mirroring each other in an imposing structure in the San Cataldo cemetery, in Modena. Enzo Ferrari mourns them both, unknowingly echoing his mother's feelings. It is a circle of mutually inflicted pain where everyone already feels what they're being told, and yet it never stops: labor must ensue, so that the vestiges of love can ensue. No wonder Enzo and Laura Ferrari (Penélope Cruz) can only ever fuck on top of spreadsheets.

The importance of an ashtray cannot be overstated.

[sithwitch13]

AEW Collision 10/19/24

In pain and tired, please perk me up, wrestling

Ah, here comes Mox to chastise everyone for being silly little guys

Ricochet vs AR Fox! Lucha Underground reunion!

Oops Aubrey got squished a little

Aaaaaa yes give me Takeshita vs Ricochet, it will heal us all

Danny and Private Party being buddies onscreen now too, i love their shenanigans on Youtube

KRIS. I wish she was still mean, I don't like an alignment shift for no in-story reason

HARLEY. My gremlin girl.

Kamille vs Kris, I'm so excited for when it happens.

Schiavone is in-character furious and disappointed with Mark Sterling for being Charlie Brown with the football every time.

Oh no Stokely is being a little scamp again

Okay, this is selling me on Jake the Snake with LFI.

ORANGE TIME

I don't know who at AEW decided to let Bronson get away with air anilingus on television, but good job them

Brooke Havok! She was at GCW last night, and is way tinier in person

PENELOPE

Aaaaa recruiting like this is a Fast and Furious first act

WAIT HE'S A HERO REFUSING THE CALL. IS ORANGE THE CHOSEN ONE

"Did you say 'break his neck?' What's WRONG with you?!" Schiavone sounding more like my mom every week

Large Hot Goths time!

I hope Julia comes back soon. I guess she's been hinting it won't be long?

THUNDER ROSA

Yessss give me Harley vs Thunder Rosa

Oh hey, Cody clip shown

Oooh Sammy vs Shelton should be good

Oh hey, new BCC entrance tron

Guess they're the Death Riders now. rip bcc

Top Flight, I love you but you will be murdered

I'm probably still gonna call them the BCC for a while

...I still love them, even though they are mean

Mox and Marina! So are we gonna get Lio and Leila running out?

Yes! We are!