#jersey all pro wrestling
danadragonfly · a year ago
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This sassy eye poke and bonus poke from 12/10/2010
Sami if you’re ever out of your contract with WWE reunite with Ken plz kthxbai
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josiahthegreat · a year ago
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thethcministry · 11 months ago
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mochaxshinigami4 · 6 months ago
Definitely one of the kids that was in more than one sport too much energy as a child poor Carla and Grisha
We all know this mf has anger issues the size of the moon
Wrestling, Hockey, Football, MMA, Track anything that’s high intensity
Enjoys MMA a little too much
Eren: “It’s very calming”
Sir, you dislocated someone’s jaw and knocked out 4 of their teeth
If you play him in Wii Sports i.e., Boxing, you will lose lol
He is the epitome of Knuck If You Buck
He was in Football but was nearly kicked off because he was starting so many fights
Was gonna do baseball but, doesn’t want to be compared to his big brother
always sits front row at Zeke’s game
Basketball, hands down
Almost owns all the Air Jordan’s (rich boy shit)
Plays as Power Forward (is insanely good at retrieving rebounds)
Him and Eren get into it when they play (to the point where they almost fought, no surprise there)
Always wears a red headband that Mikasa gave him (to help him hold his hair back)
Followers all of the top NBA players on Twitter and Instagram
One time, Lebron responses back to one of his tweets and Jean damn neared passed out
Can palm a basketball with one hand
Basketball also
He’s that one player with the speaker (he’s always playing Drake)
The team Hype man; when the team is down he hypes them
Where tf does he get all the energy from??!!?
Plays as Small Forward (can get super aggressive when it comes to handling the ball)
Always wears a gold chain during games (it’s his lucky charm)
Can spin 2 basketballs on both of his hands
Was so hurt when Kobe died, he didn’t go to practice for a week
Owns almost all of Kobe’s jerseys
He’s built like a mf brick wall so you can tell he’s a linebacker or blocker
He does Football (blonde hair, muscular, tall asf COME ON)
Also does Track when Football isn’t in season
He’s a thrower (javelin, Discus, Shotput, Hammer)
He always has snacks!!! He’s the plug
“Hey Reiner, I need something to eat”
*Pulls out duffel bag full of food* “Take what you need”
Freshman look up to him, sees him as a big brother they never had
Does Rugby during the Summer
Always goes to Bertholdt’s games
It’s canon that he had a fascination of the ocean
Definitely involved with water sports
Swim/Dive team Captain lol
He did water polo for a number of years before focusing on primarily Swimming
Gets called the Blonde Michael Phipps
Has a tan because he’s always at the beach lol
“Where’s Armin?” “At the beach”
Either smells like chlorine or sea salt NO IN BETWEEN
He’s currently learning how to surf (give him 2 weeks and he’ll be out surfing pros lmfao)
Jean and Connie always makes all types of water jokes when Armin is around
“Hey Armin, long time no sea” “Very funny guys”
Eren has Armin as Aquaman in his contact info
Wears sandals almost everywhere
Soccer and Baseball
Cleans his cleats, shin guards, helmets and bats before and after games/practices religiously
Will give you a death glare if you try to touch his stuff without permission
“Hey Levi, let me see-” “Do you want to die?”
Plays Center Forward in Soccer (we all saw him kick the absolute dog shit out of Eren in S1)
Has kicked a ball so hard it exploded
Everyone shits bricks when they hear Levi is playing (someone was caught praying )
Can and will knock your teeth out for mentioning his height
Everyone thinks he’s super human
Is admired and feared
Him and Zeke got beef
Can hit any ball you throw at him; curve, speed etc.
Has and will continue to embarrass Zeke
Volleyball; specifically Blocker, but has a mean strike
He’s super nice and sweet
Be warned through, this man can and will not hesitate to absolutely demolish you if you push it
Always heats his back before a match because it gets stiff sometimes
He’s also the Team Dad
Makes sure to pack extra everything
“Hey Bertholdt, I forgot my-” “Say absolutely less, I have extra”
Plays Rugby on the side with Reiner over the summer
Always goes to Reiner’s games
His ass and legs look amazing!!!
Football and Rugby, no questions asked
The man is 6’5 and built like a brick house, ofc he would be in those sports
He’s the chillest person you’ve ever met
Low key is the Team Therapist, you can talk to him about pretty much anything and he won’t judge
Gives amazing advice
Eats like a horse lol
Is always snacking on something, always steals Reiner’s snacks, but Reiner doesn’t mind
Has back problems (the price to pay for being tall lmao)
Knows each trainer by name since he’s there 24/7
His thighs are huge asf!!!! Once cracked a watermelon as a joke
Has caused his teammates to question their sexuality cause omg that was hot asf!!!
Baseball player lmao!!!
Y’all saw him in his Titan swinging those big ass boulders at Mach 5 speed
Definitely a pitcher (obviously lol)
Can and will strike out everyone that comes to bat (almost everyone )
He’s near sighted so he wears glasses
Loves the movie Major League 1989 (the pitcher also wears glasses)
Has posters of famous baseball players hanging on his wall (Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson, etc)
Always goes to Eren’s games/matches
He definitely talks shit to Eren’s face but, brags about him to others
“You could have knocked that guy out easily last round, slow ass”
“Look at my amazing baby brother, god I’m so proud of him”
Him and Levi have beef
Underestimated Levi and got embarrassed (everyone Porco still brings it up to this day)
He called Levi short before a game and Levi hit the ball out of the stadium
Levi didn’t even run, he walked back to the dugout (he was so disrespectful)
Has made it his life’s goal to strike Levi out
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amondf1 · 8 months ago
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Alan could not believe his luck when he won free tickets to his favorite pro team The Heroes. He had entered in the contest to win them a right after last season was over. The rules were simple to make a 20-sec video about your favorite thing to do at the stadium.
  For Alan, this was easy since he always loves being the center of attention and showing off in one way or the other. Alan was the type of guy who always was showing off either with his athletic skills or his large well workout muscles. So for him, 20 secs video was easy and he won. He also got to meet the team too in the locker room after the game.
  The game was a win but barely a win. But Alan did not care as he was escorted into the private area for the team. Where only remembers and high ranking coaching staff is allowed to go. Alan was blown away by the room. It was massive with lockers on one side, and a full living area on the other side that looked like a 5-star hotel. There was also a way into the private team gym and pool area. Alan was amazed and his tour guide was the general manager. He was so friendly it was a dream come true.
  Just before the team showed up the general manager handed Alan a necklace with the team logo on it. It was a gift to Alan who quickly put it on. Once it was around his neck Alan's head started to feel a bit fuzzy but nothing too bad as the team walked in and the doors behind them close and with a loud locking noise Alan fate was sealed.
  The team player flooded and was talking and joking with each other and unaware of Alan even existing until the general Manger spoke up. The team members all turned. At this point, Alan's head is spinning and his whole body is numb. “So boys on another win I think you guys need a new prize. This here is Alan and he won the contest. As you can see I've given him one of my special necklaces and he is nice and submissive”. The general manager said as he put one hand on Alan's should and gently pushed him to his knees.
  “ I think this one will be a fine addition for our team bitch position,” The manager said looking over at one of the only few non-team members where the water boys who were all kneeling off to the side with their mouths wide open and blank faces and all of them were wearing the same necklace as Alan.
  The Manager then told Alan to speak and tell the team all about him. Alan did without stopping and told the team in a monotone voice all about him, how he worshipped them as his heroes, where he lived, and his sexual orientation. This got the team laughing so hard since now that no longer matters well to them at least.
  Once that the team captain spoke up and said who gets first rights to him? The manager laughed and said the game MVP was this monster-size player who was easy 80 lbs bigger than Alan. He walked right up to Alan and stood right before him. He only had a towel on and let it fall to the floor to show off a massive 9 in the hard very thick dick with a sizeable amount of hair in his groined and he had not showered yet from the game so he was sweaty and smelled like a man's man.
  All the player said was open your mouth and no teeth. Alan who mind was so out of it all that registered with him was the musk smell did as he was told and soon found that massive dick in his throat. The player wasted no time and took hold of Alan's head and began to rough fuck the poor man's mouth. Alan's throat had no resistance and no gagging due to Alan's mental state. All Alan could do was smell the player crotch but that was not all. Once the player shot his load down Alan's throat and pulled out because according to him he needed some more booze.
This allowed Alan to see the line of other players wanting a turn at his mouth. He also could notice the other staff members with the same necklaces were all being used by other players in different ways. Two were on their knees giving a blow job and three were on all fours being fucked like a bitch, One was being held up while the player was sticking his whole fist into the poor man's ass.
  Alan would later go on to give every member of the team a blow job. But he was not done. He then was spin around and made to be fucked at least 10 times by the players. But his humiliation was not over. See the players also like to use their toys for their entertainment as well. Soon Alan found himself wrestling with another staffer who looked just like Alan naked in front of some of the players while the other entranced men served them drinks or keep pleasuring them.
  At one point they had Alan self spank himself while calling himself a dirty whore who did not deserve them. He also had to say that he loved being used by them and he is a worthless piece of meat whose only role in life is to be a servant. Alan at this point was stripped of all of his clothing and was naked as much as the other enslave guys. The players were now starting to head home and a few of the guys went with them. Alan and a few others were then told to head to their rooms for now and rest up. Alan was then given an Ipad which he was to view once he got to his room.
  The remaining guys walked into the show and clean each other up and headed for a small door with a flap on it. Almost like a giant dog door. The guys including Alan bend down and crawled through the opening to a large room with a few mats around the room and a few bowels and a smaller room off to the side which had a smaller shower and a few toilets no walls. It not like any of the guys there care they all were so mindless that it did not matter. Alan then viewed the video on the I pad. It told him what is expected of him and how his life would be from now on.
  Alan was now one of the team's sex slaves where he would be available for any player to use however they wish. He would be whatever they want him to be and how rough. For Alan, he quickly found out that it was not just normal blow jobs and anal.
  Each player had their kinks and fetishes and many love trying out new things and finding a new way to humiliates them, slaves. The one play loved having Alan dressing up in drag and rough fucking him while recording him to post for free on the internet for the whole world to see.
  Another play loved it when Alan would dress up like a suited butler and make him serve him as a butler. If Alan was too slow he would crank up the massive vibrating remote control dildo in his ass which caused a ton of pain and pleasure. Some players like have Alan worship them and verbally degrade himself in front of them. Some like to see him act like a pup.
  A few players loved using him as a urinal when at practice. One player loved having him dress up in his jersey and fuck him. But on the other note one play loved seeing Alan dress up in their team uniform and fuck him pretending he was one of his teammates. One other thing a lot of the players loved was having Alan pretend to be other athletes from other teams or sports.
  Alan would stay with the team for years until they finally got tired of him and his fate was one of two. The first is sold on the black market to some brothel or distant country to work the rest of his life as a sex slave for security guards. Or he would be taken by a team member to be kept as their slave. Sometimes for sex depending on how used the slave's bodies are. Or they are used as free labor around the player's house and spend the rest of his days as a servant to one of the players. But he can not complain about his ideals after all.
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bellalutionn · 4 months ago
i’ll kiss u on the head for more joey janela, my thirst cannot be contained
i’ll kiss u for requesting more joey😮‍💨 i feel that. i’m so in love with joey. i hope this idea isn’t too basic but i just can’t stop thinking of joey as a dad.
taglist: @peachmango-kombucha @lghockey @girlmythlegend @brittsdmd
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- he would spoil your kid so much.
- let’s say your guys first kid was a girl.
- she would be absolutely decked out in cheetah print.
- i mean decked out. joey loved to put so many different styles of clothes on your guys daughter.
- joey wants to give her the world,
- joey teaches your guys daughter absolutely everything about pro-wrestling. he got her into watching old tapes and now, she wants to do it all the time.
- once your kid is legally old enough to drink, joey would take her to the best bars in jersey.
- they would shotgun beers and take shots which lowkey made you nervous but it was fun.
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smarkbomb · 4 months ago
Adam Cole is probably a free agent and might sign with a company at some point
It seems to have been confirmed that the Panama City Playboy is currently the hottest free agent in the business and literally no one has any idea where he’s going to end up or if he’s actually a free agent.
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With the end of his war with Kyle O’Reilly on NXT, Adam Cole’s contract with WWE seems to have come to an end. Well, that’s at least what wrestling "journalists” with “anonymous sources” seem to think, though no one can seem to corroborate that fact at all.
But one thing those same “journalists” do know for sure is who he is going sign with. It will either be WWE, NXT, AEW, Impact, ROH, Shimmer, NJPW, MLW, AJPW, AAA, PWG, Dragon Gate, WCW, ECW, Sendai Girls’ Pro Wrestling, Stampede Wrestling, FCW, CMLL, OVW, House of Hardcore, Evolve, Smoky Mountain Wrestling, or that wrestling company the boys made up on South Park.
If by some chance he doesn’t sign with any of those companies, there’s a rumor that Jeff Stevens of Hoboken, New Jersey has a hell of a backyard league set up. There’s probably at least one wrestling site reporting that Adam Cole has signed with JWL, or Jeff’s Wrestling League.
One thing that is for sure is that Adam Cole may or may not be a free agent, and that he will probably wrestle for a wrestling company at some point in the indeterminate future. Hopefully, it’s JWL. Jeff’s mom makes lemonade and Totino’s Pizza Roles for everyone in the audience. Whose the Best Booker, now, Tony Khan?
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skinks · a year ago
I would just like to say Bongo Smugglers killed me. I’m sitting in class giggling thinking about a Losers movie night where they have a dramatic showing of the movie. Audra and Richie are less embarrassed then they should be. It becomes an annual tradition to play a bongo smugglers™️ drinking game at Christmas.
AHH this is amazing, I just shoved two words together that I thought were funny and suddenly it’s this whole ugly 2002 sex comedy fully formed in my head. Glad it killed you during class. And yeah, they’re definitely not embarrassed, everyone’s heckling the writing and the early 2000s fashion more than anything else anyway.
Richie happily provides commentary the whole way through even though he’s only in the sex scene, waving his tortilla chip in Eddie’s face because he’s got his arm around his shoulder, hugging him close into Richie’s side. Eddie keeps snapping bites at it so often that Richie just ends up hand feeding him chips.
“Aaaaaaand... that’s the first time I touched a boob, right there!“
“Glad to help,” Audra winks.
“The exact moment I realized I was totally lying to myself. I’m having an entire existential sexuality crisis right there on camera, but can you tell? Does my fratty façade crack an inch?”
“I could tell, because you spent fifteen minutes before the scene pacing around set and chanting you can do this, you can do this, don’t throw up, you like girls, but not too much, because you don’t get paid if you pop a boner, c’mon Richard, c’mon—”
“Like I said,” Richie shouts, over all his stupid friends laughing at him, “no one can tell, ‘cus I’m a pro—”
“You call yourself Richard during pep talks?” Stan’s grinning at him sharp-beaked, like a vulture. Has Richie seen him blink even once since he came back from the dead? Not sure, not sure, make note to ask Patty to spy.
Onscreen Audra is shimmying down her low-rise stone-wash boot-cut jeans, boots with the fur, the whole club was in fact lookin’ at her. What the fuck was anyone thinking back then? Richie privately blames the Bush administration, and continues.
“You’re a great scene partner, Audra-my-deah, and I respect you for cougaring not one but two of our little balding Brady Bunch here, but you were kinda the reason I figured out I’m gay. Like, big time gay. Well, the second reason.” He rubs tortilla-salt fingers through Eddie’s hair and feels his stomach go fuzzy when Eddie kinda thrums out a low noise against him. Oh, he’s purring. Some deep down part of Richie’s caveman psyche, lodged right in the hungry reptilian nub of his central brain wants to bear-hug Eddie to a pulp, wants to Lenny him like a mouse until they both stop breathing at the same exact moment from the pressure.
Yeesh, dark!
He smooches one of Eddie’s Easter Island eyebrows instead, keeps his lips mushed there. Smooches again. “Biiiiiiig time.”
“My wife,” Bill whips around from his seat on the floor at Richie’s feet, cheeks bulging with wontons, “my wife did not cougar me.”
Eddie shushes him. Everyone else is exchanging Looks, including Audra, because she totally did cougar Bill. Good for her!
“My wife,” Richie mimics, all sing-song and bugling. “Who the fuck are you, Borat?” Eddie snorts, hard. “Turn around and watch me make sweet love to ya woman, Bill.”
Onscreen Richie is struggling out of a giant hockey jersey at the sight of Onscreen Audra’s nubile charms. Everything is lit terribly, to a Smash Mouth deep cut.
“Oh man, check out that figure.” Richie whistles at himself, twenty-six years old with muscles like long ropes. “These were the pre-gut days. Even though my diet was just Adderall and instant ramen.”
“I like your gut,” Eddie murmurs, squidging at it with the hand not shoved up the back of Richie’s shirt. He’s already looking pretty tipsy, because he told everyone loudly and at length that he’d have to be what he deemed, shithouse drunk, to cope with whatever 90 minute dick jokeathon he was about to endure for the sake of two minutes of Richie-ass. “You’re hotter than him.”
Richie preens. “I am him, dude.”
Eddie’s hand lands clumsy on his cheek, pulling Richie’s attention away from his own foregrounded bare ass and Onscreen Audra’s shocked expression, to face him. Eddie’s all unfocused, flushed in the cheeks. “You’re both hot. Him and you, I’d fuck you both. I’d let both of you fuck me at once.”
“Um,” says Ben. Mike keeps slorping up noodles, but his eyes are saucering at Bill’s giant TV.
“Hhohkaaay,” Richie breathes.
“Is this when you saw it, Audra?” Bev asks. She waggles her eyebrows at them from the muscular nook of Ben’s arms. “The famous Tower of Tozier? You mentioned in the group chat.”
“What group chat,” Richie croaks, wrenching his eyes from the sight of Eddie’s slick tongue pulsing gently against his lower lip, hanging open like he wants Richie to see inside his mouth. Yowza-yowza-yowza, this is so much better than movie-nights back in the 90s. “I never saw anything about that? And I monitor you all on WhatsApp twenty-four-sevs. I literally have nothing better to do while Eddie’s working.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Beverly dismisses him with a flick of her wrist.
Audra is nodding vigorously while Onscreen Audra tilts her head comically far to the right. “That’s when I saw it,” she says. “They couldn’t find a modesty sock that fit you, Richie, remember? I didn’t have to fake that reaction. And that’s with them blasting the A/C on high so my nips would poke through my shirt.” She nudges Eddie’s shin gently and stage-whispers, “Well done.”
Eddie growls hot miso breath into Richie’s neck. Snarls, really. That’s the only word for it. Richie’s not embarrassed—he’s been telling people about his donkey schlong for years, not his fault nobody ever believes him. It’s a boy who cried wolf situation, perhaps, if the boy was actually telling the truth every time and just wanted to brag to everyone about seeing a really big, thick wolf.
“Honey,” Bill says, visibly distressed, “this is already weird enough for me, please don’t say nips.”
“Nips, nips, nips.” Audra tickles into Bill’s ribs, and Richie joins in the chant, they all do. It’s a hailstorm of sesame toast raining on Big Bill’s protesting head. “Stiff nips! Stiff nips!”
“Shut up, I’m, uh’wanna see Rich fuck!” Eddie roars, wrestling the couch cushions for the remote and stabbing the volume obscenely loud.
Moans fill the air. Rice sprays from Mike’s mouth, between his hasty fingers. Patty is laughing so hard into Stan’s shoulder Richie would be kinda worried about her, if he wasn’t so distracted by the way Eddie’s leaning forward, hand on Richie’s thigh and eyes locked to Onscreen Richie’s bare bucking hips. He remembers this part horrible and clear, preserved behind glass in his mind like the embarrassing ninth grade school photo his mom still won’t remove from the mantelpiece. Braces like train tracks and his eyes squinted up small and moleish because his mom said she wanted to see his handsome face without his glasses for once. Eddie laughed at it for five whole minutes the first time Richie brought him up to visit mom and dad as his—as his, at last, before snapping a careful picture of the photo with his phone and muttering, so cute.
It’s the noises.
“This was the day I learned women really can, uh, fake orgasms,” Richie says. He coughs. Eddie’s fingers tighten on his thigh and he looks back at Richie over his shoulder, eyes all drunk and dark and dilated like a shark’s to the backdrop of Onscreen Richie and Audra’s plastic din. Richie’s head thumps dizzily, sliding his hand secret under Eddie’s shirt to the damp small of his back, watching his neck go pink. This, now this is familiar from 90s movie nights, how sweaty they’d get, tangled together like pocketed earbuds the longer the VHS spun. Always on the same couch by unspoken agreement, kicking and left to do so by the others, like the clubhouse hammock flirting was more RichieandEddie status quo than behaviour tethered to any one location. Feeling your heartbeat in your ears and everywhere your limbs are shoved between another sapling boy-body, and the couch.
Richie can see exactly what Eddie’s thinking, in that darkness. That’s not how you sound in bed with me.
“This is revolting,” says Stan, mildly, but Richie holds up his hand like a stop sign, pulled roughly back to the present.
“Wait, wait, here comes my line!”
“Thought you said it was a non-speaking—”
The camera cuts from Onscreen Audra’s bouncing breasts to Onscreen Richie’s slack-jawed face, his ill-conceived soul patch. He was asked to remove his glasses for the scene, he remembers, and was glad of it, feeling useless and young and stupid and exposed enough already just by virtue of needing the money, he didn’t need to see this perfectly nice and reasonable actress pity him for not even knowing how to pretend at being with a woman. Onscreen Richie tilts his chin up, and Bill’s entire rec room holds its breath. There will be bruises on Richie’s thigh tomorrow.
A grunt, a groan. An unsubtle trumpet fanfare musical cue on the soundtrack, but hey, neither of them ever claimed Bongo Smugglers was a masterpiece. “¡Ay, chihuahua!”
Richie throws his arms up in triumph. “All my own improv, folks! And they kept it in the final cut!”
Eruption. He’s pelted with howls of disgust and prawn crackers. Eddie grabs one of his arms and just shakes him, ragdolls Richie’s laughing body around until he tips over and sprawls into Eddie’s lap, shielded from assault. Eddie chews his insistent teeth into Richie’s shoulder, and finally, the scene ends with Onscreen Richie leaping a naked escape from Onscreen Audra’s balcony.
“Worst,” Eddie mumbles against Richie’s nape. “Worst thing’ve ever seening m’life.”
He’s so drunk, sweet thing. Richie sits back up, still wheezing. He rests his cheek on Eddie’s shoulder and gazes starrily up at his plastered little face. Steel-cut jaw softened with laughter and stubble, un-gelled hair curling around like a chestnut lamb’s. “Worst ever-ever?”
“No,” Eddie says plainly, and that’s true, “but it’s up there. Woulda rented the shit out of this at Blockbuster.”
Richie flings his leg over Eddie’s knees, kicking Bill in the process. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, gathering up all Richie’s loose ends in a big circling cuddle. “Every week. Woulda worn it out. Broke the disc.”
“Got your ‘Lil ‘Busters membership card revoked for being a creep.”
“Worth it.”
“Aw, Eddie-baby.”
“Would you two stop, you’re making the rest of us look bad,” Bev says, smiling fondly. The movie’s moved on, and none of them are really paying attention now that the main event’s over, but everyone’s still coming down, dismounting from belly-laughter and landing ankle-deep in giggles. “That was inspired.”
“He made me laugh so hard on that take,” Audra sighs, leaning against Bill. “I remember thinking, shame he’s a closet-case. I always knew you were a good guy under all that fake stand-up.” She rolls her head back on her neck to look at Richie, upside down. “D’you remember right after, too?”
“Ah,” says Richie, tensing up. Eddie must feel it, because he makes a lowing noise of concern and turns the volume down.
“What you did to those guys?”
“Ahaha, uh.” Richie struggles to sit upright with hot embarrassment tugging at his stomach. “They don’t need to—Audra, it’s not, anyone would’ve done the same—”
“No, actually, you were the only one who ever did,” Audra says, sharp-eyed, and Richie remembers that too. How much surer and in control of herself she was than him, even back then, when they were both just simple bottom-feeders on L.A.’s sludgy floor.
“What happened?” Patty asks. They’re all looking. Richie stares at the wall beside the TV’s garish over-saturation, scratches at the back of his neck, until Eddie takes his hand softly back to hold in his.
“I was pretty much always the only woman on set,” Audra explains. “Par for the course on a movie like that, it was whatever. It’s nothing like real sex, obviously, you have to stop and wait for lighting changes, new set-ups and stuff, you’re surrounded by crew. But you’re the only ones naked, and pretending to fuck, right? It can be a little.” She pulls a face, tilts her palm back and forth. “Degrading.”
Richie snorts, humorlessly.
“Anyway, that scene wrapped and they called cut, and a few of the guys in the crew said some stuff. About me. The director ignored it, the producer ignored it. I was used to it,” Audra says. Richie can see the edge of Bill’s jaw clench and re-clench like a fist as he watches his wife speak. Audra smiles widely, then, and jerks a thumb at Richie. “But this guy?”
They’re grinning, they’re all grinning, because they know him. Richie squirms under it. He can feel blood pounding behind his ears, across the surface of his scalp in pulsing waves of embarrassed heat, because it’s one thing to spend your life running your big fat Trashmouth to distract the bullies’ attention onto you, but it’s another for people to treat you like some kinda hero for it. Like it’s not just something friends do.
Bev’s eyes go all emerald-shiny with delight, like the quarry in sunlight. She covers her mouth. “Oh, Richie.”
“Knocked the first one out cold,” Audra crows. “You tried your best after that. It was three against one and he had a black eye before the rest of us could separate them, but he had the element of surprise at first. I mean, he flew at them, if you can imagine it—you’re what, six-one, six-two?”
Eddie’s trembling ever-so-slightly against him. Richie screws his eyes shut. “Six-two.”
“No wonder the asshole shit himself, you came at him all six-foot-two naked inches, pissed as hell, with a massive—”
“Alright!” Richie yelps, because if there’s anything more embarrassing than his brief Bongo Smugglers cameo, it’s the fact that he left set that day with a black eye and no money. Who cares. His closest friends are alive and they’re cheering, and Eddie is shoving himself into Richie’s lap just like it’s movie night in 1991 but with 100% more enthusiastic frenching, seating his drunk ass in Richie’s startled hands and hissing god, you’re such a crazy dumbass, I love you so much, Richie, even back then with that soul-patch I’d have loved you so much, god, sexy, Rich, wanna see you with a black eye, can I give you one, can you give me one, Richie, I’m gonna fuck you so good for this later, ay chihuahua—!
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strongstylestory · 11 months ago
IWGP Heavyweight + Intercontinental Titles Being Retired, IWGP World Heavyweight Championship Being Established, Press Conference at 3pm JST / 1am EST / 12am CST.
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Tokyo Sports just reported that the IWGP Heavyweight and Intercontinental titles have now been officially unified, and the belts will be retired. In their place, the new unified championship is the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship. Kota Ibushi will be its first champion.
The IWGP Heavyweight Championship has been NJPW’s uppermost title belt since 6/12/1987, with Antonio Inoki as its first holder, replacing the NWF Heavyweight title. There have been 73 individual reigns with the title, with 31 different wrestlers being crowned the champion. There have also been 4 different iterations of the title belt itself, the current one being introduced in November 2008. There was also an earlier version, a belt being the trophy for winning the International Wrestling Grand Prix tournament that ran from 1983-1988, a precursor to G1 Climax. This is what prompts the often-erroneously cited “fact” that Hulk Hogan was the “first IWGP Champion” -- he won the 1983 IWGP tournament, and got a belt as winner, but it is not this title.
The IWGP Intercontinental Championship has a bit more recent lineage, the first winner MVP crowned on 5/15/2011 during NJPW’s first foray into United States shows, at the NJPW Invasion Tour 2011: Attack On East Coast, facilitated by Jersey All Pro Wrestling. The belt has since been defined by the reigns of both Shinsuke Nakamura and Tetsuya Naito, the former making the belt a main event title at Wrestle Kingdom 8 on January 4, 2014. There have been 27 individual reigns, with 15 wrestlers being holders of the title.
Making a new IWGP World Heavyweight Championship is a little unnecessary, but not entirely out of left field. All Japan Pro Wrestling went from three belts to one on 10/27/2013, with the original Triple Crown titles being returned to Motoko Baba, but the lineage was kept. The implication here is that the lineages of the Heavyweight and Intercontinental titles will not be upheld with this new belt.
NJPW is holding a press conference at 3pm JST / 1am EST / 12am CST tonight, however I won’t be writing about it until tomorrow because of scheduling. We should find out more information, including the look of the new title. We should also learn more about the 49th Anniversary Show on Thursday, as well as the New Japan Cup 2021 that will start Friday. Looks like we won’t have a lack of things to discuss on the next podcast either.
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danadragonfly · a year ago
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December 10 2010  JAPW 13th Anniversary-Best of Light Heavyweights
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thehillhurricane · 6 months ago
pPlease welcome to the podcast the talented and beautiful All Elite Wrestling (AEW) Women's Superstar Amber Nova, a Pro Wrestling American Muscle Mechanic. Born in New Jersey now residing in Florida, Amber's love for pro wrestling began with her father going to watch WWE events. She moved to Florida to pursue her career and was trained by Lince Dorado, Hector Guerrero, Matt Sydal, Ivelisse Velez, Loki, Josh Woods. She got her first break working with Impact Wrestling then a year later was appearing on WWE NXT, her first match was against current Women's WWE Champion Nikki Cross. 2019 Amber did tours of the UK, South Africa and Panama and is the current NWA Women's Champion.  @ambernova73/ppa href='https://tellcraigyourstory.podbean.com/'https://tellcraigyourstory.podbean.com/a/ppa href='https://www.linktr.ee/tellcraigyourstory/'https://www.linktr.ee/tellcraigyourstory/a/pp@tellcraigyourstory/ppYoutube Channel a href='https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcCr6P3Ja395SkapnECvOFw?view_as=subscriber'https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcCr6P3Ja395SkapnECvOFw?view_as=subscriber/a/pp#ambernova #amberflora #tellcraigyourstory #aew #dynamite #allelitewrestling #73chevynova #americanmusclemechanic #impactwrestling #wwe #nxt #london #southafrica #panama #florida #usa #novahead #nikkicross #nwachampion #lincedorado #hectorguerrero #prowrestler #tuneup #rhearipley #newjersey #bigshow #sting #fighterfest2 /p
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wewerecore · 9 months ago
Yatco Presents
CORE Pro #102
They Shoot, We Score
American Postal Workers Union Hall - Tampa, Florida
Attendance: 103
- The show opened with all the wrestlers making their way to the ring where they were joined by new CORE owner Jawad Yatim and head matchmaker Sad Badd. Jawad thanked the fans for their support and praised the card Sad Badd had assembled on short notice. Jawad told the crowd that while he has no interest in being an on-screen character, he will be working diligently behind the scenes to make CORE the most successful independent booking office in North America.
Match #1
The Vulture Squad (Jigsaw and Jack Evans) with Julius Smokes vs. Los Golpeadores (Dragon Bane and El Hijo de Canis Lupus)
Winners: The Vulture Squad
Match #2
JD Drake vs. Shane Taylor
Winner: Shane Taylor
- Wrestling legend Sgt. Slaughter entered the ring before the next match. Slaughter began to read a statement from some note cards, but tossed them aside and demanded to know why this live event didn’t open with a performance of “America The Beautiful.” Sgt. Slaughter called for the fans to get on their feet and he would perform a rousing rendition of the song for them now. Slaughter’s microphone was cut and security escorted him from the ring as he ranted about a typo on his hotel reservation that called him Sgt. Laughter.
Match #3
The End (Odinson and Parrow) vs. The New Jersey All-Stars (Dan Champion and Lucky)
Winners: The End
- CORE matchmaker Sad Badd appeared at ringside and apologized for Sgt. Slaughter’s earlier appearance. She said that Slaughter had been in the sun all day and was likely suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion. Sad Badd explained that Slaughter was supposed to announce the creation of an innovative new division in CORE. In association with the Medicare Coverage Helpline, CORE will be launching the Medicare Coverage Helpline Senior Division. The division will be open only to wrestlers 50+, and to limit the risk of prolonged physical exertion all matches can be won by a two count. Sad Badd brought out Chavo Guerrero Jr. and announced that he will be facing Ricky Morton on April 23rd in Archbald, PA in the very first Medicare Coverage Helpline Senior Division match. She also announced that Japanese wrestling star Konosuke Takeshita will be returning to CORE for the first time since Trios Kingdom 2014 to go one on one with Davey Richards.
Match #4
Laredo Kid vs. A Very Good Professional Wrestler
Winner: A Very Good Professional Wrestler
Match #5
The Doom Patrol (Chris Dickinson and Jaka) vs. FinJuice (David Finlay and Juice Robinson)
- Chris Dickinson had David Finlay up for a death valley driver off the top rope when he was temporarily blinded by a camera flash from the crowd. Finlay slipped off Dickinson's shoulders and hit a superplex. Juice Robinson came from the opposite corner with a frog splash for the pinfall.
Winners: FinJuice
Match #6
Lio Rush vs. Rich Swann
Winner: Lio Rush
Upcoming Shows:
CORE Pro #103
...and then a whole year passed
Sugarman's Marketplace - Archbald, Pennsylvania
01. Dan Champion vs. JD Drake
02. Shane Taylor Promotions (Shane Taylor, Kaun, and Moses) vs. Jigsaw, Jack Evans, and Angelico
03. Thunder Rosa vs. Deonna Purrazzo
04. Medicare Coverage Helpline Senior Division: Ricky Morton vs. Chavo Guerrero Jr.
05. Davey Richards vs. Konosuke Takeshita
06. Lio Rush vs. A Very Good Professional Wrestler
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lowkeyhockey · 2 years ago
as long as skies are blue - mitch marner
Pairing: Mitch Marner/Reader
Warnings: Curse words, OC death (not reader), mention of cancer
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: Sometimes, it’s okay to start over. Sometimes you need to move on.
Grief is a cold thing, even in the summer. But all the time you're spending at your local ice rink probably isn't helping. 
 You find yourself there more often than not anyway, more often than you probably should be, watching the skaters move across the ice like ice nymphs, or something like it. There's something pretty, something almost inhuman in their graceful steps and twists and turns. 
 And then, every now and then, one skater would slam into another with all the delicate grace of a freight truck, and the illusion shattered.
 Exasperated, you stand with the whistle already between your lips, blowing two quick, sharp whistles before your assistant coach could even protest. Though he does it anyway, just a moment too late, skating across the ice to you to stand shoulder-to-shoulder - well, shoulder-to around chest-height - with the fourteen year old boys now clamoring for your attention like he's on their side. 
 "Mitch, buddy, stop," you say, and the words come out almost pleading, and maybe you should have addressed the kids first but you know which of the three could potentially give you the most trouble if left unchecked. One of the boys - Ryan, because of course it is - starts to jump into the breach, probably sensing weakness, and Mitch surprises you by wrapping a restraining arm around his shoulders. 
 When that fails to shut the kid up, he tugs a little harder, wrapping the kid up in a headlock until they're both wrestling down on the ice, laughing about it, while Daniel stands beside you to watch them with - God, that was envy on his face. 
 You should tell him that green doesn't go well with his bright red no-contact jersey. 
 "Sin bin, three minutes," you tell them, after the laughter's died down a little. Mitch - again - looks like he's ready to protest, and you add with your best approximation of a grin, "all three of you. Move it." 
 "This is a tyranny, Ryan groans, lying flat on his back to stare up at the ceiling lights like he's waiting for divine retribution, and Daniel nods, nudging at his knee with a skate. 
 "What did I do?" Mitch asks, sounding legitimately curious, and you shrug your shoulders at him - trying your best to look down your nose at him even though, now that he's standing, he has a good few inches on you. 
 "This is a tyranny, Marns," you parrot back to him, sing-song, ignoring Ryan's groan. "I don't have to explain myself to you."
 You've never had to explain yourself to him, is the thing. You had grown up with Mitch, had shared your juice boxes and pillows and blankets with him in pre-k, had spent your first solo camping trip with just him and Damien and the stars (in your backyard, but still), had told him about your first kiss in fifth grade.
 He'd wrinkled his nose, looking grossed out, when you told him how Jonny Levi had jammed his tongue in your throat, and then he'd asked you to kiss him - so he could have his first kiss on the same day you had yours. It would only be fair, after all. 
 His lips had been dry, but soft, the kiss a chaste brush of his lips against yours until you'd grinned and nipped at his lower lip, and he'd pulled back looking surprised and a little offended. 
 He went and told your twin about it too - your kiss with Jonny, not your kiss with him - and they both decided they'd beat Jonny up if he ever tried it again. Without your consent, that was. And you'd consented to a kiss, not to frenching. There was an important distinction. 
 You'd decided, in the ninth grade, that if your kids ever ask you about your first kiss that you'd tell about that one - how gentle Mitch's hands had been on your bare waist, warm from the sun and the hours you'd both spent swimming and playing beach volleyball, how he smelled (for once) like sunscreen instead of hockey sweat, how he'd kept his eyes closed until you'd nipped at his lower lip. 
 It was too perfect - would have been too perfect, if you hadn't done just that.  And you'd always been terrified of perfect things; they always looked so fragile. 
 Damien, your twin, had always been the fighter between the two of you. No one in your family would know a Size 0 if it hit you in the face, and Damien had never been afraid to use his extra weight on the ice - where Mitch was tall and slight, skating around other players in the GTA like they were standing still, Damien had always preferring skating straight through them - and more often than not, sending them flying. 
 They had been tight as thieves, were destined for the NHL - everyone knew it. Of course, only one actually lived long enough to make it there. In the end, it wasn't a concussion or a pissed off parent or too many sneaky beers after a good game that finally got him. It was cancer, and Damien had fought till the very end. 
 You hadn't been surprised to hear that Mitch had volunteered to run your local ice rink's summer puck and stick sessions - he had to have been missing Damien as much as you did. Maybe more, now that he's living their shared dream in the pros. 
 Damien's never showed an interest in going to university, so it's easier to escape the memory of him while you're there. 
 He - Mitch, that was, of course it's Mitch - bumps his shoulder against yours as you both head off the ice at the end of practice, his smile determinedly easy. You know chilled-out Mitch, you know goofy Mitch, you even know media-trained Mitch, and this isn't any of those. 
 He's keeping his smile on for your benefit, and you feel guilty for making him put in that much effort. 
 God, but you're a freak. If not for Damien, the rink probably wouldn't even want your help with the stick and puck sessions - you must be such a downer. 
But Mitch knows you, too, and in an instant he's got his arm wrapped around your shoulders - smile gone now, replaced by a furrowed brow frown that you don't know very well, and you wonder - for a split-second - if he's going to wrestle you down onto the ice like he did with Ryan.
 "Whatever you're thinking, cut it out," he says instead, and the side of his head is now pressed against the top of yours, both his arms now wrapped around you, his chest plastered to your side. Like he's an over-sized, hockey stink-infused weighted blanket. 
 "That was a good session, no one got hurt, Daniel promised me he's going to be more careful." He pauses then for a beat, obviously thinking, and continues in the next breath, "the kids all love you, the agility skate drills you're making them do is definitely going to help them in the long run, Dams would have been proud of you." 
 It's the last one that has you stiffening in his arms, but Mitch refuses to let go, because of course he does. "Is that it? You're thinking about Damien? You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he tells you, and this feels like the kind of conversation you should be having face-to-face, but Mitch has never been one to let things go. 
He doesn't tell you, has never told you, but the last time he did let you go - when he'd gotten drafted, and had moved closer to the city, while you moved to Boston for university - he'd pretty much lost you. And that had stung, okay. 
 You'd lasted only five minutes of stubborn, stony silence under the weight of the Mitch blanket - god, but both of you are so stubborn, Damien had never put up with either of your bs - before you'd broken down in tears, and it had been another half hour before Mitch had gotten you to promise you'd meet up with him after you both showered the session off to talk tears- and snot-free. 
 He drives you both to your favorite cafe way back in high school, which makes a nice change from how you both used to walk there lugging your hockey bags (because wheels are for losers), and by the time you get there you almost forgive him for making you face your emotions.
 He knows how you feel about emotions. 
 He knows enough to fill the car with chatter the whole way, talking about how the Leafs are going to look better next season with him on the roster, how he's going to get you tickets for when he's playing in Boston  if you promise not to show up in the wrong  jersey, how he's happy to be home even if he misses what home used to be like. 
 It's the last that makes you frown a little, that gives you the courage to reach over and rest your hand on his knee. The smile he give you is genuinely happy Mitch, chilled out Mitch, and the smile you give him in return is almost shy before you start drawing patterns into his knee just like you used to. 
 One of his superpowers is reading your handwriting, and it's probably because you let him copy your homework so many times. 
 (The first 'I love you' had been written out across his back, while he was half-asleep, and you'd thought you'd finally gotten one over him until he'd mumbled an "I love you too" before rolling over to half-squish you into the mattress.) 
 "I miss him, and it sucks," you admit to him over a shake and a heaping plate of poutine, and he nods, his eyes sympathetic. "I miss you, and that sucks too," you tell him, and when he reaches out to cover your hand with his, your eyes start to fill with tears again.   
 "This whole summer - I'm prepared for all of it to suck. And that sucks most of all, because I know how much of a downer I am on everyone else. It's not like I'm the only one who lost him." 
 "He's your twin, though, it definitely sucks the most for you." He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and that's the trigger for your tears. Knowing Mitch is there to watch your six while you cry - while you're clearly at your most defenseless - has always been enough to get you to lower your defenses enough to cry. 
 Never mind that you're both in your favorite - or ex-favorite, he could probably afford to eat at nicer places now - cafe, with the early evening crowd all around you
 "And life always sucks a little less for me, whenever you're around," he adds, and you use your joined hands to wipe your tears away - before sticking your tongue out at him. 
 Because clearly, that's what grown adults do to hide the fact that they're blushing.  
 Which is - dumb, so dumb, all of it, but Mitch is stroking your cheekbone with the thumb of the hand you still have pressed against your cheek, so you guess that at least he doesn't think it's dumb. 
 "You don't have to run sessions if you don't want to, the kids will get it," he says, and his eyes are on your joined hands - or maybe on the easy sweep of his thumb against your cheekbone, or maybe on the way the color of your blush is deepening. Your face is feeling warmer, anyway. 
 "But I kinda wanna see you there. Even if you're a bit of a downer because you're fucking sad,  Y/N, which is normal, by the way." 
 When you give him a tiny smile - half-grimace, and definitely more apologetic than anything else - he smiles back, wider and easier and so him.  
 So you ask, because you kinda have to, "and if I want to see you somewhere else? Like - that Italian place we used to always go to on date nights?" You hesitate a little before saying the last two words, wondering if you're overstepping, wondering if you misread this or if he's going to think you're a freak for asking right on the heels of talking about Damien - 
 but his grin is brighter than the sun, and you think Damien would approve, at least a little. Even if he'd make gagging sounds about it. 
 "Y/N, I'd go to Montreal for you," he says, sounding like he genuinely means it, and you make gagging sounds on Dam's behalf - before breaking out in teary giggles after. 
 And Mitch looks offended for a split-second, but that's okay because he's leaning over to kiss you a moment later, and you sink into the kiss for maybe too long before you remember to nip - again - at his lower lip. 
 And maybe you'd gotten the order a little wrong but you're ready to start again. 
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sheliesshattered · a year ago
So, we’ve finally admitted that the long-planned family trip scheduled for three weeks from now is really officially Not Happening. On the one hand, I am definitely bummed out about it, and it’s really only hitting me as I’m going through and cancelling flights and hotel reservations and all of that. We held out hope for a long time, but it’s time to face reality, and that’s never a fun thing in 2020. 
But on the other hand, finally making the decision has been a weird rush of relief? It’s not hanging over our heads anymore, there’s no more uncertainty about if we can do it, if things will be safe, if places will be open. It’s a definite no, which is sad, but it’s also a definite. Finally.
It’s also allowed me to take a big step back from the sewing project I’ve been wrestling with for the last two months -- a swimsuit I was making specifically for this trip. I started planning in last summer and bought all the materials in February, just when things were starting to look a tiny bit dicey but not too bad yet. For the first few weeks of quarantine, working on it was a hopeful activity -- this was only going to last a couple of weeks, then things would start getting back to normal, and our trip would roll around in May just like we’d planned. But as that started looking less and less likely, I slowed way, way down on the sewing front too. 
Part of it was the low-grade quarantine depression we’re all dealing with, and part of it was Jack working from home and thus vastly reducing the number of hours in a week when I could run a sewing machine. Some of it was definitely also down to good old fashioned frustration at sewing with a swim knit and non-woven elastic, and drafting a pattern from scratch and having to fit it on my person, in relatively cold weather (I’ve mentioned before how much I hate changing out of warm clothing to try on something not-warm that I’m sewing, right?). But a big part of it was just not knowing if this trip was actually going to happen, and feeling sad about the dwindling likelihood of it but not actually wanting to face that reality.
Now that I know for sure that I’m not going to have anywhere to wear that swimsuit in the foreseeable future, I’ve been able to let myself just stop. Today I packed up all the fabric and the cut pieces and the pattern pieces, all neatly put away for whenever I decide to get back to it. It’s been monopolizing my sewing table for literally months, and it is such a relief to not have to look at it anymore.
It’s also opened up space -- physical and mental -- to think about sewing something else. There’s a lot of uncertainty about when events might start happening again, but someday there’ll be places to wear cosplay to again. I have the time and the materials to mock up at least two of the cosplay projects I’ve been wanting to tackle, and if I can get the mock-ups fitted correctly, I could potentially even order fabric online and make the real deal. The question now is just -- which to work on first?
The two projects at the top of my list are Clara’s suit from Time Heist, and Clara/Oswin’s red dress from Asylum of the Daleks. There are pros and cons of working on each of them, and I’m trying to decide which I’m more in the mood for. For the Time Heist suit, I’ve never made a suit before, but I’ve been reading up on tailoring techniques, and I have two good patterns to work with to draft something that fits me the way I want it to. I have plenty of muslin on hand to mock it up, and working with a woven would be a nice change of pace after swearing at the swimsuit knit for the past two months. There’d be some challenging bits to making it and fitting it, but it’s not completely outside of my abilities. It’s also probably the costume I’m more excited about wearing. But I also haven’t been able to source fabric for it yet, after a ton of looking around online, so even once I have the mock-up fitting the way I want it to, I might have to wait to get the real fabric until I can go out in person.
For the red Asylum of the Daleks dress, I don’t have a pattern to work from, so first step would be to adapt one of the knit patterns I do have to be a raglan sleeve and an intricately draped neckline -- and I’d almost certainly have to do the draping on myself, which was one of the annoying things about the swimsuit. And it’d be working with a knit again, which I might really need a break from. I have a bunch of (TARDIS blue) rayon jersey knit that I could make a mock-up out of, and at the end actually have a wearable version of the dress in a non-screen-accurate color, which would be fun. Once I have the pattern figured out and the fit perfected with the mock-up, it’d be really easy to order red jersey knit online and just resew it in the right Oswin/Clara color, and then start focusing on the accessories, and/or start working on the suit at that point.
Hmm hmm. Well, I’m not I’m any closer to answering the question of which to work on first, but at least I’ve got the pros and cons of each laid out in my head a bit better. And it feels good to be excited about sewing again, rather than dragging through making something I know I’m not going to get to wear. I keep coming back to the quote from Twelve: everything ends, and that’s always sad, but everything begins again too, and that’s always happy.
Be happy. ❤️
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danadragonfly · a year ago
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