#a shit ton of fucking threads from finn for some reason and one of them was velvet n husk

[serialxsocial-a]

...... Wondering about Velvet and Husk interactions ngl

#Offline / OOC #this spawned since a dream i had this morning i had like #a shit ton of fucking threads from finn for some reason and one of them was velvet n husk #and the funniest part of this dream was husk answered an ask from velvet and my brain #didnt even TRY to conjure up finns writing cus it was under a readmore and i know damn well it wasnt smut related #and it was soon after that i woke up and i was like #ah shit i got so much shit 2 answer to tomorrow-- oh wait nvm it was a dream #nice. falls right back into my pillow and goes back to sleep #BUT THE THOUGHT HAS BEEN IN MY MIND OF VELVET AND HUSK #NOW #ESP CUS SHE LOVES. CATS. :) SO MUCH #AND ALSO HIS ASSOCIATONS W ALASTOR I #hmmmmmmmmmmm... #interesting

[literary-spirit]

Confessions of a Mikaelson: Possessing the Bennett

*Warning there's not only smut in this chapter, but there'll also be a crap ton of lemonade throughout this story. It's rated M for a reason, my fellow Bonnie lovers. So if you're not with it then I'll completely understand and for those of you who wish to proceed, please remember to buckle your seatbelts and strap on you helmets, this road is cluttered and broken.* Okay so Francesca and I are working on something new. This WIP begins at the end of 01X01 TVD and swerves recklessly out of the canon plot line into a very strange AU! So you've been warned! Flame it or acclaim in comments. I'll leave it up to the Bennett Fandom on whether this hot mess of a WIP lives to see another update!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

Bonnie Bennett glared down at her smashed to hell pager. "Fucking, fuckery, fuck!"

She cringed after the string of no-no words leapt from her mouth. Unholy hell. Well, that would be another fifteen dollars for the swear jar. Her Grams had created the damn thing before she passed away. It was meant to help her broaden her vocabulary now it would probably be what put her through college.

For reasons she never really wanted to consider, she still faithfully added money to the jar whenever one of those slippery bastards (swear words) tumbled from her lips. Which fortunately only occurred when she was upset, stressed, depressed, bored, or angry. Okay, when she reflected upon it, half of her verbal interactions consisted of inappropriate phrases. Who the hell was she fooling? Her tongue had never met an explicit word it couldn't commit to.

Her glare left her broken pager to assess the front wheel of her bike. The damn thing had nearly folded in half. Well, it could've been worse. Instead of Caroline Forbes making her crash her bike into one of the wooden poles of Wickery Bridge, she could've simply knocked her over the rail. Bonnie wondered if the vapid bitch would've stopped then. She shook her head. Probably not. Why would she?

Bonnie Bennett was selectively invisible to the Mystic Falls' High elite. The only time any of those beautiful vultures ever acknowledged her was when they wanted to score some mushrooms and organic Mary J from her Grams garden or if they wanted to purchase a term paper. Other than that, she could walk down the halls bare assed wearing nothing but a smile and no one would raise even a threaded eyebrow. However, their impaired vision on all things Bonnie Bennett suited her just fine. She preferred living her day to day in between the lines. It afforded her certain privacies those who basked in the spot light were denied.

Yet, that evening she could've used just a bit of the spotlight. Not only was her bike a fucking tragedy, but her ankle was busted all to hell too. Without a ride or a phone, she'd have to limp her happy ass all the way home. Unless, the caretaker of the Mikaelson Estate took pity on her and allowed her to call a taxi. Bonnie didn't hold out much hope, though.

She honestly couldn't remember the last time the old crusty son of a bitch opened the wrought iron front gates. Maybe it was the last time the Mikaelsons were actually in residence. But when the hell was that? She'd lived in Mystic Falls all of her life and she'd never so much as caught a glimpse of the family. Talk was, they travelled year round and the Mikaelson Estate was only one of many properties they owned. And if rumors danced close to fact, then the residence should be in possession of at least one damn phone.

Not wanting to linger any longer on the bridge which hosted a shit ton of animal attacks, Bonnie struggled to drag her bike to the grassy area under the Wickery sign. Once she chained it to the wooden pole, she began to limp towards the Estate. It took her fifteen slow as shit minutes to reach the intercom outside the gates. To her surprise the house twinkled with a dozen or so lights too many. A frown crumpled her face. Normally, the house stood cloaked in shadows around that time of evening. For a brief second she found herself hesitating to press the intercom button. However, the aching throb of her ankle gave her the motivation she required to ring the caretaker.

A few moments after the crackly sound subsided an elderly voice answered. "Yes?"

"Hi," she said, trying her damnest to put on her sweetest good girl voice. "I just wrecked my bike on Wickery Bridge and broke my pager. Would it be possible for me to use your phone?"

Without explanation the intercom went silent. When she moved to press the button again, the gates swung open. Her eyes nearly hit the paved driveway at the sight of an old school Bentley pulling to a stop at the entrance. Seconds later, the—older than sand—caretaker exited the driver seat and shuffled around the car to open the back door.

Bonnie hobbled over to the car. Once there, she eased herself into the back seat. After closing the door, it took him every bit of eight minutes to reclaim his seat behind the steering wheel and another ten before he pulled the Bentley in front of the huge French glass double doors at the front of the Mansion. Deciding not to wait another twenty minutes for the caretaker to open her door, she slid from the backseat.

By the time she'd limped to the entrance, the caretaker had pulled the car away from the front of the house. Soon as she teetered to a stop on the proverbial welcome mat, the doors swung open. The air thickened right before several intoxicating forces nearly knocked her to the ground. An electric pulsing sensation shot from her center and surged through her vessels. The pulsating pooled in the palms of her hands, while forcing its way outward to thrum just beneath the surface of her skin. It was almost as if the intense vibrations deep within her responded to the pounding energy pouring from the mansion.

Bonnie stood on the fucking precipice. Her spidey senses told her that if she leaped nothing in her world would ever be the same. If she turned back now her life would resume unchanged. Being a habitual creature who never deviated from patterns or set routines, she knew the choice she should've selected. However, the draw beyond the threshold appealed to her way more than the comfort of her normal resting state. She inhaled enough oxygen for two and stepped inside before she had the chance to second guess her sanity.

Once inside the doors automatically closed behind her. Bonnie barely took notice. The spacious ornate foyer held her focus. Truth was, she didn't know what the hell to ogle first. From the massive crystal chandelier suspended at least sixty feet off the ground to the floor to ceiling marbled columns, everything vied for her absolute attention.

She couldn't believe people actually lounged in such a cushy lap of luxury. She'd never seen anything so...lavish. Not even Zach Salvatore's Boarding House could hold a blow torch to the Mikaelson Estate and his mansion was believed to be the nicest in town. That's if one didn't count the Lockwood Plantation. And she didn't. The slave quarters the Lockwood's still maintained on their property snatched them right out of the running.

The fine hair stood on the back of her neck as goose bumps pebbled the skin on her arms. She was being watched. Of course she was being watched. Whoever maintained the place alongside the caretaker probably wanted to make sure a few priceless knick-knacks didn't find its way into her pockets.

"Hello," A feminine voice greeted her from behind.

She limped around to face the owner of the voice. A sophisticated middle age lady stood before her looking like she'd just taken a bath in one percent privilege. The ends of her silky blond hair fell a couple of inches below her jawline in a professionally tapered bob to frame a passingly attractive oval shaped face. Tasteful, but expensive jewelry twinkled from her ears, wrist, and neck. The low-key touch brought a little more glamour to the understated white sundress she wore. After a head to toe assessment, she concluded there was no way in hell this woman was the housekeeper.

Bonnie cleared her throat. "Hey, I'm Bonnie Bennett." The woman's assessing blue gaze slightly flared with recognition. "I wrecked my bike a couple of hundred yards back on Wickery Bridge and totaled my fucking pager." Shit! Another five dollars for the swear jar. She squeezed her eyes closed. "Sorry, didn't mean to swear," she mumbled before retraining her gaze on the older lady who looked more amused than offended. "But in my defense this day has been a total shi-..." she shook her head, "never mind. Would it be okay if I used your phone?"

"Absolutely, Miss Bennett," the woman said, while strolling further into the foyer. "And before I misremember my manners allow me to introduce myself. I'm Esther Mikaelson."

Surprise stretched Bonnie's eyes wide. No fucking way! Wait until the founding families got an ear full of this news. Carol Lockwood would no doubt wet her panties when she heard the Mikaelsons had come to town. She mentally shook her head as she limped forward to grasp Mrs. Mikaelson extended hand.

The corners of the woman's mouth travelled south under the weight of a frown as she gazed down at Bonnie's sneakers. "Were you harmed?" Mrs. Mikaelson questioned as her intense stare reestablished eye contact between them.

"Think I sprained my ankle," she said, while lifting her injured limb. "I'm sure it'll be fine once I get some ice on it, though."

Esther's brow puckered. "Finn!"

"Yes, mother?" A tall—totally fuckable—man appeared from behind the same door Esther exited.

"Miss Bennett-,"

"Miss Bennett?" He questioned with an arched brow.

"Yes...Miss Bennett, this is my eldest son Finn," she shot the man a pointed glare before continuing. "Miss Bennett has unfortunately injured herself during a biking expedition. Would you do a great kindness and carry her to the beige and gold sitting room?"

"That's not necessary. I can walk-,"�� 

"Of course, mother," he said, before turning to approach her. The atmosphere around him crackled. Waves of intoxicating energy seeped from him and tentatively swirled around her, all while taking care not to make contact. The temperature of her body crept north. When he towered over her, he paused, "May I, Miss Bennett?"

"Really, it's not-,"

Without giving her time to finish her sentence, he lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing more than an arm full of feathered pillows. He then swiftly made his way deeper into the mansion. After a few minutes of sprinting, he stopped in front of a set of closed doors. An array of voices drifted to them from inside the room. Finn took a step back to allow Esther to enter ahead of them.

Upon the opening of the door, a wall of highly charged energy slammed into her and lit her the fuck up. Her body temperature sky rocketed and leaped off the damn meter as if she'd been tossed into a hell blaze. Combined magnetic forces pricked at the exposed surface of her skin. She became extremely cognizant of Finn's hard frame firmly pressed against her side. A fantasy of her running her hands over hills of rigid muscles while he stood before her in all his bare ass glory, blasted away her conscious regard for shame. Without out grazing two thoughts together, she began to rub her cheek back and forth over his pec. The growl her actions elicited provoked her nipples to tighten almost to the point of being painful.

"Well, well! Look what the Finn managed to drag in, Bekah," a boy with precision cut sable tresses snarked from his place in one of the armchairs positioned in front of the fire place. He watched her with unblinking chocolate brown eyes that was downright predatory in nature. His calculated serial killer stare should've scared her crapless. Yet, all she could manage to think was...hmm, dessert! "Do say you're intending to share, brother." Finn's hold tightened around her.

"Curb your vile tongue, Kol. Miss Bennett is a guest in our home and you would do well to honor her as such." Esther hissed as she impaled him with a glare that would've made Satan piss his pants.

Guest? She just wanted to use the damn phone.

"Bennett?" A jaw dropping blond bombshell questioned from a satin bronzed sofa.

Finn gently placed her on the opposing loveseat. "Yes, Rebekah. This is Miss Bonnie Bennett." His slightly timid gaze found hers as he positioned a pillow under her ankle. "Miss Bennett, these are my siblings Kol and Rebekah."

Faster than her eyes could track, Rebekah shot from the sofa and reappeared again as she placed Bonnie's ankle in her lap.

"Fucking, fuckery, fuck! Am I having a stroke or did you just imitate a fucking Lambo?" Shit, another twenty for the swear jar.

Rebekah's mouth fell open and a chortle tumbled forth. Finn tsked his expression absolutely scandalized. Esther's eyebrows leaped into her hairline and Kol...wait...where the hell was Kol? Moments later she was lifted from the loveseat cushion and resettled in a hard bulging lap. Cool lips nuzzled the crook of her neck as something steamy floated from a tea cup that hovered in front of her face.

"Sweetness, your wicked terminology enflames me. Curiously, I find myself longing for the affordable affections of an all too willing dockside harlot," Kol whispered next to her ear. "Here, have some tea while it's still warm. It'll do wonders for your injured ankle."

With no further warning, Kol placed the tea cup to her lips and spilled the contents down her throat. To prevent herself from, choking she swallowed the metallic tasting tea. As she drank her thoughts spun the hell out in her head. How the...where the...something was extremely twisted about the Mikaelsons. Strength, beauty, and speed. She felt as if someone had dropped her off in a damn Twilight flick. Had she been one of those drugged out hippy, dippy, students Grams used to invite over for dinner, she'd truly believe herself to be in a house overran with vampires.

"Mother, will you not correct Kol on his forwardness in regards to Miss Bennett," Finn demanded, while attempting to commit visual homicide on his younger brother.

"Kol," Esther spit, her tone warning.

The caretaker appeared in the open doorway of the room. "Lady Mikaelson, Lord Niklaus wishes you attend him on the telephone."

Telephone? That's what the hell she needed!

"Excuse, Miss Bennett. I won't be but a moment," she rose from seat next to a large paned window. "I'll receive the call in my study Hannibal." She sashayed from the room and the door softly clicked closed after her.

"Oh, brother of mine. Celeste has yet to launder our unmentionables." Kol paused to blow a stream of cool air in her ear. The walls of her pop rocker quavered. "Why not preoccupy yourself with sniffing mother's soiled knickers. Your absence will allow Bonnie and me an opportunity to become better acquainted."

After she finished drinking the tea, Kol pushed the cup and saucer into Finn's hands. She opened her mouth to bless him with some more of her, wicked terminology, when she noticed the throbbing in her ankle stopped.

Flexing her ankle back and forth, she side eyed Kol. "What the hell was in that tea?"

"Family recipe," he said with wide guiltless doe eyes. He, however, looked about as innocent as a wolf covered in blood and feathers.

Rebekah snorted as she stroked her now apparently uninjured ankle. The vibrations which pulsed from the tips of her fingers triggered her to squeeze her thighs together to assuage a whole other throbbing. When the youngest Mikaelson licked her painted rosy lips, liquid heat flooded Bonnie's center. What the fuck? When had girls ever done it for her? Not that a boy had ever done it to her, but still. All her crushes over the last few years were geared towards the opposite sex. She'd never thought about a girl in such a way.

Uncomfortable in her own damn skin, Bonnie hopped from Kol's lap to put distance between her and the Mikaelson siblings. "Look, I just needed to use the phone. But since my ankle is-,"

"Brilliant." Rebekah climbed to her feet and grabbed her wrist. She then dragged her towards the door. "You can use the one in my room." When Kol moved to follow, Rebekah speared him with an over the shoulder glare, before saying, "no boys allowed!"

                                      ****

Rebekah covertly watched Bonnie Bennett through her lashes as she painted the tiny witch's toes. Nik's spies in Mystic Falls hadn't exaggerated. She was exquisite. Her smooth bronzed brown skin appeared to be quite edible. The way it stretched uninterrupted over her hills, peaks, valleys, and dips, compelled her tongue to glide back and forth across her bottom lip. She couldn't refrain herself from imagining the lovely dove stripped bare and reclining in the center of her bed with her luxurious chocolate tresses fanned out about her head. Quite the fetching sight she'd make to be sure.

Vanilla, coconuts, and the sensually mouthwatering scent of arousal tempted Rebekah's nostrils. Her core clenched as a hint of a smile flirted with her lips. It pleased her to know the witch struggled with her lust as well. The proof saturated the air with her delectable fragrance. The sweet attar, teasingly baited and ensnared them. Even now Kol stood vigil outside her bedroom door. While Finn had abandoned his perpetual crusade of self-loathing to recite aloud, Napoleon's love letters to Josephine. In verity, they'd all become rather batty for Bonnie.

If the witch caused this big of an uproar in the house of Mikaelson before the manifestation of her powers, they would all be raving lunatics after her quickening.

"What'd you think, Dove? Do you fancy them?" Rebekah questioned, while tightening the top on the nail polish.

The witch's enthralling green eyes slightly narrowed as she peered down at her toes. "Um...they're really red."

Rebekah rolled her eyes as she placed the fingernail polish back on the night stand. "How perceptive of you, Miss Bennett," she said, allowing sarcasm to thread itself through her tone. "Do you have the inclination to inform me on the blondness of my hair as well?"

"Whoa, there's no need to take the leash off the bitch. All I'm saying is-,"

"Hmm..." The witch's sentence skidded to a halt when the blonde original began to massage her shapely calves. "What were you saying, Dove?"

"I..." the little beauty paused to swallow. "Didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh..." she murmured, while she allowed her fingers to inch up Bonnie's jean clad thigh. "Well, I'm relieved. The task of pleasing you is extremely important to me." The heel of her palm connected with the lovely dove's crotch.

A breathy moan crept from the split of the witch's lips. "Rebekah, I'm not into...ahh...ooh..." Bonnie whimpered as the youngest original began to grind her hand into her witch's denim clad mound.

"Shh, Dove," she whispered, while urging the witch to lie back on the pillow-top mattress. "It's just us girls..."

Rebekah moved to straddle Bonnie's lap. She then leaned forward and brushed her mouth against the witch's to gauge how receptive she'd be to a kiss. The Bennett witch's arms slithered around her neck and drew her closer. Once Rebekah's mouth loomed over hers, she lifted her head from the mattress to close the distance. Since her lovely little dove initiated the kiss she allowed the tiny witch to take the lead. However, when it became blatantly apparent she'd never been properly snogged, the original reclaimed control.

With the tip of her tongue, she traced the seam of Bonnie's lips. A moment later the witch opened her mouth and granted her entrance. The sweet taste of her extracted a throaty moan from Rebekah and motivated her lower half to grind into Bonnie's. Pretty soon the witch's hips began to rise from the mattress to meet her wild writhing thrusts. Each of their whimpers and moans climbed in volume until their lips tingled and the press of their joined mouths could no longer suppress the sounds.

[never-shuts-up]

RAW 4/10 Adventure: Getting All Shook Up

So I got a message around 8 AM Monday that a friend of a friend had some openings for seat fillers for RAW at Nassau Coliseum that night. So the adventure began!

 I immediately texted D and by 10 AM we had both made plans to leave work early, and I was working on my second dose of kava and third or so near anxiety attack.

Left work at quarter to three, on the road by four… and promptly got stuck in traffic. Accidents kept popping up on the map and there were moments when we were certain we would never get there before the call time, and even contemplated turning around, but we were already on the GWB and I was still determined to try. 

When it was starting to look impossible, this exchange happened:

Me: I guess anything worth doing in life leads to either a scar or a story.

D: If you can call sitting in traffic “a story.” Unless it ends in “And that’s where you came from!”

Me: I think that would lead to a very specific selection of baby names.

Two hours later we rolled up to the Coliseum with less than a gallon of gas in the tank, no idea where the nearest gas station was, and no clue where to find our contact.

The particulars of us actually getting in aren’t important, but we found our guy and made it. We were given the rundown of how seat-filling works and shown to some really good seats where we would wait for a wrangler to come move us to empty seats on camera if and when we were needed. From there we got to see the first few matches, and then our wrangler found us and waved us down to even better seats, low in the bleachers on the other side of the ring. We were slightly above eye level with the wrestlers in the ring and right in front of the cameras, but any time they played toward the main cameras, we were watching them from behind. With some of the talent, this is a really good problem to have (insert a bunch of “peach” emojis here), and with some it’s not a problem at all because they are able to play to all sides.

The Highlights:

- Enzo and Cass opening things up in a taping for Main Event. They were super extra hyped up because it’s basically a hometown show, so much “how you doin’?” With which I just wanted to respond “stuck in traffic” as Enzo detailed the drive there from Jersey. Cass vs. Titus O'Neil while Enzo worked the crowd.

- Lucha cruiserweight tag team with Gran Metallik! This was the point when D and I both well and truly lost our shit. Luchadors at any non-lucha show are just so extra that you can’t not love them, and I want to give them the Best Dressed award for the night. Sparkle capes!!!!!

- Miz and Maryse opening the show with their John Cena & Nikki Bella bit. I was in stitches, because I thought they were done with that and certainly didn’t expect to see them coming to RAW with it. And then who shows up? As you know, it was Dean Fucking Ambrose! And meanwhile I’m thinking “shit. If Dean’s coming here, then Seth Rollins must be leaving because they would never tease us with the idea of a Shield reunion (or even messing with the leftover threads of that plot) without putting a giant wrench in it somehow.” This only dampened our spirits until the setup for the Sami Zayn vs. Miz match, which had me jumping out of my seat. Hell fucking yes! Sami in a singles match!

- Cruiserweights were an absolute treat because Austin Aries is hilarious, and Neville just sat next to the announcers’ table looking pissed. I don’t quite buy TJP as a heel, maybe I’m just not up on the history here, but I’ll gladly keep watching.

 - We moved seats before Seth’s “Fate” appearance, so we were watching it from behind, and that was a smidge disappointing but I know my face was in the background doing… I don’t know what. Emoting like a motherfucker. Cheering, crumpling, cheering again. I think D was sitting in the row in front at the time so he didn’t see my face, but I bet he could hear it. Watching Kurt Angle’s entrance, the entire exchange, and Samoa Joe getting shut. the. fuck. down. was magnificent.

- Finn Balor vs. Jinder Mahal: OMG. Finn did his infamous entrance crotch pose on our side of the ring, almost directly in front of us, and I died a little. Aside from a messy forearm, Jinder did make Finn look good, but then again Finn always looks good, and even though he doesn’t really work the crowd as much as others, his grace and intensity always impress, and the crowd was With Him 100%.  (Before and after this match was when my phone started blowing up with messages from friends who saw us on TV, and the timing could not have been better to capture us at peak enthusiasm.) Of course, I’m pissed that Finn got concussed, but so grateful that I was able to see him wrestle just once.

- Sami vs. Miz was everything. I danced like a lunatic to Sami’s music, and we had several “ole ole” chants going. We booed the Miz so hard he turned around and full-on glared at our entire section a few times, which just made us boo louder. The energy we built up for Sami felt great, and he was definitely taking and appreciating it, and effing killed it. And of course we all freaked out again when he won; I was doing the Running Man at my seat and giving zero fucks what that looked like.

- 8 Man Tag Team Match - so many highlights. Too-sweeting Gallows & Anderson, who finally ditched the dopey shoulder pads they wore last week. The Hardys being the Hardys and so so so many “Delete” and “Brother Nero” chants. They may not be broken, but I think we might be. Sheamus and Cesaro doing their James Bond meets Magic Mike entrance in the kilts. Watching Cesaro take a beating from G&A and the Shining Stars at the same time, for a long fucking time, was punishing, but the ups outnumbered the downs. The guys in the row behind us had a gigantic Irish flag, so Sheamus gestured right at us to acknowledge it during their exit, and D had a whole “Immortan Joe looked at me! I am awaited in Valhalla!” moment.

- The end of Ambrose vs. Owens, which in general was more satisfying than a lot of the Ambrose matches in recent memory, he actually seemed to flip the switch in a more believable and useful way. By this point we were really getting tired, and thinking about the logistics of leaving… and then Chris Jericho showed up to deliver a “bye, bitch” Codebreaker at his former bestie, the televised part of things ended, and shit got interesting. How interesting? Samoa Joe interesting. 

Then more interesting.

Seth Freakin’ Rollins interesting.

I made a sound that I’m pretty sure only dogs and bats can hear.

 So the match that was supposed to happen last week went forward as a dark match. I was marking out for all of it. There were “Stupid Idiots” chants, which were everything. I think D didn’t have the heart to make fun of me for freaking out when Seth sold the knee thing, because I always die a little when that happens. But everyone’s favorite shiny pants goofballs triumphed, of course, and Jericho got to work the crowd and tell Long Island we made the list. (After our ordeal getting there, if I had the List I would have put Long Island on it for sure. I would have put Long Island at the TOP of the fucking List and everyone who drives in the greater NY area as well, because fuck it all.) During this part, he was playing toward the crowd on the camera side, and Seth was standing in the opposite corner working our side, including some great drumroll-spirit-fingers when Jericho built up to his signature line. Couldn’t have asked for a better ending. I wanted to go down to the floor to try and catch a closer glimpse or a high-five or something on their way out, but decided that kind of access should be saved for the people who paid a shit-ton of money to be there, not our freeloading asses.

The Low Points

- Mixed feelings about Nia vs. Charlotte. It looked like Nia was finally getting her due and getting to be the monster we all know she can be, but even though I couldn’t tell from where we were sitting, I heard later that it looked wildly unsafe on camera. Charlotte looked pretty wrecked at the end, but I couldn’t tell if it was just her selling it really well.  Later, Alexa and Mickie’s big reveal built Monster!Nia up further, and I freaked the hell out at seeing Alexa. The only problem is, Nia gets way too close to being too real, to an extent that gets scary - and even if you don’t know much and don’t know what you’re looking for, you can feel something is out of place.

- The Wyatt teaser. I don’t really understand the logic of trading him. Eater of Worlds vs. Demon King has the potential to be pretty badass, but it kicks the whole Wyatt Family narrative right in the balls.

 -  Slut-shaming chants aimed at Maryse, who was leaning on the apron right in front of us during the Sami/Miz match, with her butt sticking out in some very accentuating black and rhinestone shorts. I think I yelled “I don’t agree with your decisions, Maryse, but I respect them!”

- The Roman backstage beatdown I have a lot of mixed feelings about. I’m not a fan of backstage beatings after a certain point - a few blows or throws to build up a plot are fine, but watching someone get full-on wrecked never sits well with me. Sometimes it just feels cheap. And this definitely did not sit well. As seat fillers, we were told that we should cheer or boo with the people around us, but I really couldn’t. I could not get down with it for a LOT of reasons, and was really glad not to be on camera. I know there were good plot reasons for it to happen this way, but I couldn’t really get into the tidal wave of emotion the rest of the audience was riding. If anything, it made me feel seasick. Especially when they started replaying it. Repeatedly.

Overall? Amazing night. Worthwhile experience. Some of the trades seemed to be set up well, some didn’t seem all that necessary, but it kind of has to be considered as a whole with Tuesday’s Smackdown. As the FIRST live WWE event that D and I have been to, it was really one for the books, and I would not trade it for anything. Even though it had its flaws, I was thrilled to death to be there, and grateful for every moment. Also, if you watch this and see some goofy platinum-blonde in a yellow scarf cheering and hollering her heart out next to a tall, long-haired ginger dude, let me know. I was flailing extra just for you.

#wwe raw #adventure #recap