Mariah.

↪ Need a place to post miscellaneous women's wrestling related pictures from their social media, red carpet events, photoshoots, etc. and would rather share it outside of your stanbase since you're not well populated (like the Bella Army), nor do people generally care to know if your fave has left her cave (like AJ Lee)? Post it here. #TeamModel Only photos and discussion of said photos are allowed here. General women's wrestling discussions belong in Extreme Rules or base threads pertaining to the woman in question. Flamebait and trolling is not permitted. If you wanna laugh at a photo, this is not the place. Such posts also belong in Extreme Rules. Light criticism is allowed (e.g. "her make up doesn't look hot, fuck you ShitSham"; "yikes at her dress") . Refrain from posting direct links to social media for the forum to auto embed since it cancels the purpose of the Social Media Thread and may cause issues for this thread later if embedding ever changes. There are methods to getting the image link from the social media post for you to post. Use spoiler tags for multiple images as it slows down the webpage otherwise

  In an effort to put a lid on the heels and the heated, often off-topic debates of HB, we now bring you Extreme Rules. ER is the home of women's wrestling related arguments that are out of control! There are no limits here for stans, best known as those who will stop at nothing to ruthlessly defend their favorite women's wrestlers and bash everyone else's.     WARNING: THIS THREAD WILL NOT BE MODERATED AND MAY CONTAIN OFFENSIVE CONTENT! NSFW     All members must be aware that no negative comments in this thread should be taken seriously or to heart. There will be trolls stationed here, so if you would rather not hear something bad said about your favorite talent, then it would be in your best interest to stay out of this thread. Furthermore, this thread should be used to continue any off-topic or random women's or general wrestling debates. With the creation of this thread, note that moderators will be cracking down on forum rules and policies. This means trolling, flamebait and off topic posts will be looked at more strictly. Although we're going extreme, there are a few rules: - Personal fights ARE NOT allowed in here or anywhere on the forum. Utilize blogs or private messaging for that. - You can post about ANYTHING (not listed below) as long as it's women's or general wrestling related. Anything outside the scope of wrestling discussion and stan wars is off-topic (this include miscellaneous photoshoots or personal photos that belong in base threads). Refer to board rules for off-topic posts. - DO NOT discuss children. - DO NOT insult other members. - DO NOT post shockingly offensive images (graphic or explicit). Moderators will determine severity. Images containing nudity are only allowed to be posted if linked under a NSFW disclaimer. - DO NOT post sexually explicit dialogue (e.g. discussing in detail what a talent likes to do sexually or what you'd like to do) or shockingly offensive dialogue. NOT to be confused with sex based insults (e.g. calling a talent a "cum-guzzling gutter slut) which remains not moderated. - Trolling and flamebait posts are okay here ONLY!   *Rings bell*    

Same  I saw people say they hate it, but it looks sleek and cool and futuristic to me. It makes me excited to see the system.

Probably too late in the news cycle to make this its own thread, but what do y'all think of the PS5 controller?    

.intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 8px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } Can you help me, I'm bent. I'm so scared that I'll never get put back together "You worthless, ungrateful piece of shit!" an irate Dawson combusts, immediately then wrapping his hands with the collar of Ethan's coat, giving the older brother the grip to flip his drunken sibling off his feet and onto the dining table. The impact echoes through the desolate halls and spaces of the mansion, his aggression sharply underscored by his lion's roar. If it weren't clear before, far gone were the days of play fighting. But within Dawson still remained the spirit of his child self, wishing for his brother's love, loyalty and obedience, as it were back then; wishing the pair of them could rekindle their precious bond. He already lost one family member, after all. Just as fast as his hold would tighten, so would his release, Dawson choosing to back away from escalating the now physical altercation. "You know what?! Go ahead," he starts with passion, his eyes blurring behind the coating of withheld tears. "Go right ahead. Have your tantrum and lash out at the one person who's tried to help mom hold this fucking family together for decades now. Yes, despite everything that was done to her, her one wish taken to her fucking grave was for us to remain a strong unit against our enemies and the media, and maintain harmony. Ha, but look at you. Here you are—yet again—refusing to grow up and be a man. And yeah... yeah I've dabbled in hedonistic behavior, myself, and I absolutely enjoyed every second of it. But that's only because I need that constant release since every other second of my life has been spent breaking my fucking back trying to take care of all of you. I've not only had to be a child, I've had to be a damn parent to you when I had no clue how to even manage myself. Now I'm trying to do the one thing I feel is the right thing to do; the one thing I feel is my responsibility, and you stand there and judge me, accusing me of doing it because I'm selfish? I'm selfish. Give me a FUCKING break, Ethan. If it weren't for me all these years, you'd be dead. And as a matter of fact, at this point, I really, really wish it was you instead of her..." As those final words part from the slickness of his tongue, immediately he's plagued with some regret. But his rage had far surpassed his usual limit, under these tragic circumstances and in lieu of his own inebriation. MONTY @Charlie

.intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 8px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } Can you help me, I'm bent. I'm so scared that I'll never get put back together Dawson tilts his short glass of scotch whiskey and rotates the bottom against the finished wood of his dining room table. Veiled by shadows—the Olympia rising sun barricaded from entering his glass castle—he sits somber and in solitude, sinking into the depth and murkiness of his thoughts, whilst staring into the maelstrom being formed in his brown drink. He’d been up all night, bathing himself in his endless supply of spirits, trying to forget the sorrow brought on by a recent revelation. The revelation? The most important woman in his life—his mother and guardian angel—had little life left, holding onto her final thread after having been left comatose by cardiac arrest. And as her power of attorney, Dawson was faced with the difficult task of deciding whether or not to pull the plug, after being told there was no hope remaining. As for the decision? Racing down his prominent cheekbone was a single tear, almost diluted by the alcohol which he over consumed. Therein laid the answer. He knew what must be done, no matter how harrowing it proved. He knew it was his mother’s time to pass on to the afterlife, despite the moment approaching sooner than desired. It was time for him to let go and wish farewell. And he had to remain affirmative. Already spending the whole evening prior preparing early funeral arrangements, Dawson looks at the array of florals, sprawled for presentation by the florist before she departed for other appointments. It was awe-inspiring how a simple piece of decor could carry so much weight in its symbolism. Those white magnolias; thought to represent dignity and nobility, traits synonymous with the life the matriarch of the royal Clarke clan led throughout her turbulent road travelled. Faced with betrayal and infidelity, she still managed to hold her head high and maintain her respect of self. She was as honest and virtuous as any woman could possibly be; an aspiration and inspiration to many. Panning his eyes over to the lilies hearkens the thought of restored innocence after death, as well as humility and devotion, the latter of which was left tested by the unraveling of the Clarke marriage. It’s there that Dawson ponders whether he always underestimated the importance of flowers; what he knew of, scientifically, was their ability to withstand harsh conditions and changing weather—all on a single, narrow stem—and each new spring season, blossom into something which gives us life. It was, however, more than science. Fixing upon the the deep pink roses, aptly named 'The American Beauty’, he begins to sob. It was his mother’s favorite; classic and simple, just as she liked. He takes one in his hand and clutches onto it tightly, the shivering of his palm loosening the petals and forcing them to cascade. Much like him, the flower wasn’t as strong as it appeared. But in his moment of weakness and vulnerability, company would emerge through the front door to his modern mansion. It was exactly the support which could serve to remedy him, although between the pair of them, there was still a lot left to be spoken in order for Dawson to be able to lean on their shoulder. Suddenly, there the guest stood before him; his eyes puffy and wide, just as they were when the two of them were children at war with a shattered family portrait and a vicious media. It was Ethan Clarke, his estranged younger brother. Dawson draws back the mucus in his nose, and forces words through a buckling voice as he stands on his leather clad feet. “E… Ethan. It’s... it’s so good to see you.” MONTY @Charlie

#allofmypride { height: 520px; width: 420px; background: white; outline: 1px solid #e59277; position: relative; margin: 20px auto 3px; box-shadow: 1px 2px 3px #e59277; overflow: hidden; } .aomp-image { width: 170px; height: 400px; position: absolute; background-size: cover; top: 85px; left: 0px; filter: grayscale(0.7); } .aomp-text { font-family: libre franklin; color: #000; position: absolute; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; padding-right: 5px; width: 195px; height: 400px; font-size: 11px; right: 25px; top: 85px; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar { width: 1px; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background: none!important; border: none !important; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background: #000 !important; border: none !important; } .aomp-text b { background: #e2cccf; font-weight: 400;} .aomp-title { font-family: raleway; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; position: absolute; color: #e59277; letter-spacing: 2px; width: 380px; top: 38px; left: 20px; }   "FACE / OFF." Dean & ANDREW I lowkey overstuffed Dawson's plate, meanwhile my new baby Andrew  (played by, as we know, my first ever crush!) doesn't have any storyline at the moment, so I'm here with an interesting offer! I feel like Drew and Dean could have a really interesting dynamic. Perhaps a shared interest (maybe Dean is looking to get into journalism, which Andrew already has a slowly burgeoning career in) could bring them together, but also continue to bring to light Drew's mischievous, deceitful side. He could meet an interning Dean---who's taken more seriously in the realm of news, politics and music journalism (whereas Drew was cast off as a douchey frat boy and given a prank calling segment)---see that this guy has a bright future, and feel threatened, which continues to morph him into everything he hates (manipulation, abuse of power) and pushes him to be underhanded in ensuring his place at the radio station.  This causes conflict within himself, however, as he grows to really like and empathize with Dean as a person. As for the underhanded means? I'm thinking perhaps the naive, inexperienced Dean develops an attraction to / crush on the charming, sexy, smart Andrew, which Drew definitely leans on for his own gain. Maybe we can even amp up the tension by having them become roommates. And to cap things off, Dean's friendship with Drew's frenemy Auggie would only serve to shake shit up even more. Anyway, I'm thinking this will be a bit more fun for us to play out than the Dawson, so I look forward to it! LINK TO SHIPPER MONTY

.intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 210px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } Time for you to go out into the world "That's not quite the greeting I'd expect from a good friend of mine, especially on the morning of his loving mother's funeral," Dawson criticizes with the mask of his magnetic smile glued on, the costume still lacking the ability to hide the current coldness and sorrow behind his green eyes. The sound of his heavy, patent leather dress shoes knock against the fine flooring of 'Sirens' as he'd emerge through the fluorescent glows and shadows. He hadn't been here in quite some time, he recalls while scouring through the modern renovations with a sliver of admiration. Once upon a midnight dreary, this was his primary domain within his "underworld". However, with the venue's rapidly ballooning popularity and the Olympia criminal world finding its way into waking hours, it could no longer be a discreet locale; one used to maintain the celebrity's starkly contrasted double life. On both sides—the dark and the light—Dawson was royalty. Such recognition meant he had to be more delicate with his corruption. As a result, his relationship with Jack also strained and withered away. These days, the pair were almost strangers, only continuing contact so Dawson could keep his finger on the "underworld's" pulse, without maintaining a constant presence. Jack was his second in command, and he was quite fine in the role. But alas: the king had returned again, if only for a brief engagement with a familiar. Dawson's face imbued the pleasures of this reunion, a much needed distraction from the day's current itinerary. Ironically, the activities he and his confidante were known to partake in would draw great disapproval from the matron Clarke, if she were still able to open her eyes. While some regret would brew in him over his disrespect to his late mother's values on the day of her burial, laying her to rest days before his birthday brought on far too much anguish to simply bear without his sinful indulgences. "Lucky for you, I'm not too concerned with the formalities. I just need a hard fucking drink or some pills before the press and paparazzi find me. That's the only way I'm going to make it through this goddamn public address." MONTY  @Pablo

CONFESSIONAL:  

  [verse one.] Claim they love it when you try to get intimate Even though they know they really ain’t into it (They're not into it?) They’re not into it I already know the game and I've been through it See I prep my own ass, I fleet, get clean Wear lace fronts with my freshly beat face underneath So please don’t cap for me Said I’m not that stupid you know!   [pre-chorus.] Rock wit me now You claim that you're a top And you say you got skills in the bedroom You try to serve trade when you're not Had a chance but still couldn’t come through You say the sissies wanna see you But you know that bullshit simply ain’t true I'ma tell you why you can't(, Dante) Cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe.   [chorus.] Say you wanna love me? Wanna love me? Wanna touch me? Think twice cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Don't know how to act, better arch that back It's like that cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Just take it deep, take it easy Cuz you can’t please me! Stop acting like you don’t know I'ma bad bitch, you wanna fuck this? Ease up cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe [verse two.] I love it when they try to act masc and shit Even though they know they stan Nicki Minaj’s hits (Super Bass and shit?) Super Bass and shit Trying not to gay out in the car, so I won’t reverse it If you really put it in me first of all You should be honest with yourself, you’re not fooling us all 'Cause I mean it when I say That you’re just a loose bottom hoe. [pre-chorus.] You claim that you're a top And you say you got skills in the bedroom You try to serve trade when you're not Had a chance but still couldn’t come through You say the sissies wanna see you 'But you know that bullshit simply ain’t true I'ma tell you why you can't(, Dante) Cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe.   [chorus.] Say you wanna love me? Wanna love me? Wanna touch me? Think twice cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Don't know how to act, better arch that back It's like that cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Just take it deep, take it easy Cuz you can’t please me! Stop acting like you don’t know I'ma bad bitch, you wanna fuck this? Ease up cuz you’re really just   [pre-chorus.] You claim that you're a top And you say you got skills in the bedroom You try to serve trade when you're not Had a chance but still couldn’t come through You say the sissies wanna see you But you know that bullshit simply ain’t true I'ma tell you why you can't(, Dante) Cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe.   [chorus.] Say you wanna love me? Wanna love me? Wanna touch me? Think twice cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Don't know how to act, better arch that back It's like that cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Just take it deep, take it easy Cuz you can’t please me? Stop acting like you don’t know I'ma bad bitch, you wanna fuck this? Ease up cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe [chorus.] Say you wanna love me? Wanna love me? Wanna touch me? Think twice cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Don't know how to act, better arch that back It's like that cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Just take it deep, take it easy Cuz you can’t please me? Stop acting like you don’t know I'ma bad bitch, you wanna fuck this? Ease up cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe [chorus.] Wanna love me? Wanna touch me? Think twice cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Don't know how to act, better arch that back It's like that cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe Just take it deep, take it easy Cuz you can’t please me? Stop acting like you don’t know I'ma bad bitch, you wanna fuck this? Ease up cuz you’re really just a loose bottom hoe   [outro.] Dicks in your mouth You’re really just a loose bottom hoe Better throw it back Said you’re really just a loose bottom hoe  

    Source

.intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } She only sleeps when it's raining... The last few gleaming thoughts of Bobby amidst the galaxy of Emma's mind, oddly seemed to have been replaced by black holes, almost instantaneously. The name, the voice, that face, that body and that touch had all dissolved, despite the arduous labor her subconscious was facing in order to hold to her feelings for him. But she couldn't; once able to utter his name, she now could only yield harsh silence. Her mind had only one path, her literal ability to form any other memory, thought or word rendered obsolete. All that existed was her and the angel faced Julian, as well as her craving for him after far too long. While their love had been tempestuous, their passion was highly combustible, the flame felt once their flesh thawed one another's frigid, wet bodies. With her back flush against the wall, their surroundings seemingly bleed like soaked ink, while their shackled tongues radiate the heat and glow of a lightning bolt. "I never thought I'd see you again in this life. Not until our next," she sighs after unfastening her mouth from his, the air from her full lips broken by each drawn in breath of elation. "I've missed you so fucking much, Jules." Saying Julian's name aloud—the ripples of her echo overflowing the expanse of their setting—only confirmed to Emma the sense that this was real, despite the noticeable distortions. His presence was real, evidenced by the continued exploration of her hands across his developed form. His anatomy was real, confirmed as she feels the length of his cock thicken and harden against her thigh amidst the syncopated poppling of their bodies. After biting her lip to tint it pink, she marks her signature down his torso, the remnants of her gloss adhering to his skin as she pauses to offer titillation to his pectoral, then kisses down the trenches of his abs. The sleeves of the oversized hoodie covering her naked body, absorbs the stray droplets of water scattered over him, once she rises back to meet the luxury of his lips with her own. In sync, she guides his hand beneath the cozy fleece sweater, to the exposed folds of her warmer, softer, tender flower. Together, they tease her entrance, two of their digits carefully sliding into place beneath her nub as her resurrected lover leans his forehead on her own. Emma takes her fingers and forms four rings around Julian's shaft, then strokes against the current of the blood within, priming it first for the cavern of her mouth before she cascades to her knees and breathes him in like oxygen she'd since been deprived. The texture of his veins massage her tongue and her eyes close at brief in ecstasy, only to open thereafter to match her lover's despite his irises becoming obstructed by the narrowing of his lids. Bobbing naturally against the chords forming the melody to the musical arrangement behind them, she momentarily loses rhythm, the moans of Julian's pleasure grasping all her attention, instead. Deeper and deeper she would allow him to burrow himself into her watering throat, not allowing herself to squander a second of their intimacy. She missed him gravely, and this only exemplified a fraction of how much. MONTY @Fusrodah

.intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } She only sleeps when it's raining... An extraordinary late night rainstorm offers a drink to the parched Olympia, California, pulling it from its usual thirst and forcing its residents indoors. But for Seattle native Emma De Angelo, the downpour comforted her like a fireplace, making her feel at home, at long last. Staring out the backseat window of her taxicab, she watches as the downpour creates an oil canvas, the streaks of water running down the glass and warping the multi-colored lights. Still, despite the slight obstruction of view, her bright, innocent eyes can't help but notice the dark handsomeness of who had quickly become a close confidante: Andrew. Recognizing his struggle to manage to open the front doors of his presumed apartment building, whilst he carries a heavy, large, dampened box, Emma alerts her driver to let her off, dangling paper bills over his shoulder to pay him for his services. Thereafter, she unflinchingly exits into the rain, eager to lend a helping hand, as the forceful water melts the thin fabric of her floral babydoll mini dress onto the ebbs and flows of her fit figure, her long coat having already been drenched prior. Mirroring her, Andrew's clothes served as little more than an extra layer of skin with how his simple white tee became translucent beneath his soaked letterman jacket, exposing a toned physique of his own, to Emma's astonishment. As the water continues to wash the gloss from her lips, she forms a big smile, squinting to forge a shield over her eyes. "Looks like you're gonna need a helping hand there, babe," she giggles, sweeping her dripping hair from off her pink, plump bottom lip where it stuck, then leaning forward to pull the door open. "Here, I got it."  Her breath is short as she tries to prevent herself from drowning beneath the storm, and it continues to dissipate whilst she scours Andrew's body under the new light; from his tight core, back up to his saccharine brown eyes. "Wow. You look... amazing, Andrew. Already all healed up, it looks like. What's new? How have you been?" MONTY @Cooksie

!!! I loved when they really leaned into the movies being a cultural event and you'd see shit everywhere. I still remember when the original Spider-Man and X-Men movie came out and the hype was HUGE.

graphic coming soon WARNING: THIS THREAD WILL NOT BE MODERATED AND MAY CONTAIN OFFENSIVE CONTENT! NSFW A sister to our iconic staple Not Moderated: Extreme Rules thread, here is where all miscellaneous film, TV and pop culture discussion goes, un-moderated. Is there a famous actor you'd like to drag mercilessly? Or perhaps thirst over? Or maybe you'd like to share some news or gossip that might not fit or get its due recognition elsewhere on the forum? Maybe you just wanna freely go back and forth with someone over your fave movies, TV show, superhero, etc.? Or start a popular meme? If any of that applies, this is the thread for you. There are no limits here for stans, best known as those who will stop at nothing to ruthlessly defend their faves and bash everyone else's. Like with ER, there are a few ground rules: - Personal fights ARE NOT allowed in here or anywhere on the forum. Utilize blogs or private messaging for that. - You can post about ANYTHING (not listed below) as long as it's pop culture related (try not to lean too heavily on pop music, as that's not the basis of our forum. If it's too much of a regular occurrence, you'll be warned for off topic)  - DO NOT discuss children. - DO NOT insult other members. - DO NOT post shockingly offensive images (graphic or explicit). Moderators will determine severity. Images containing nudity are only allowed to be posted if linked under a NSFW spoiler tag. - DO NOT post sexually explicit dialogue (e.g. discussing in detail what a talent likes to do sexually or what you'd like to do) or shockingly offensive dialogue. NOT to be confused with sex based insults (e.g. calling a talent a "cum-guzzling gutter slut) which remains not moderated. - DO NOT post anything racist, transphobic, homophobic or typically offensive. - Trolling and flamebait posts are okay here ONLY! With that said: action!    

Guess The Flash is getting recast officially    

.intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } I know you're afraid to let your feelings show Emma’s sleek silhouette perforates through the sunset on the horizon, said mural painting reflecting back toward her by the neighboring cars. She clutches the perimeter of Bobby’s steely, jagged, toned torso, whilst the engine steadily grinds, the pair riding into the distance on the backseat of his crimson motorcycle. The length of her bountiful locks streak onto the cold wind—its movement brought on by the intense acceleration—and her blushed cheek rests upon his leather clad back, her eyes locked shut just above them in mild fear. There was no fear of Bobby for the dauntless Emma, however. The early weeks of her knowing him were bliss; every minute since opening themselves to one another felt earned after years of feeling alone. And now she anticipated being afforded the opportunity to see this new, variant side to him like he did her; a lucid dream away from their waking lives. Just as she anticipated, it was an adventure deep into the catacombs of his past and psyche, which remained barricaded to most everyone. Though the itinerary and destination of their long awaited first date remained a secret to Emma, the serenity ribboned in with the thrill Bobby provided in this new role as a potential romantic interest, meant she would trust him to take her anywhere—perhaps even through the clouds and back again. He felt safe, despite the mystery he was shrouded in. She held an optimism, an overzealousness, so rare for the previously heartbroken single parent. All reservations had been abandoned, for she was committed to giving all of herself to—once again—find the love she craves, causing her to stay unflinching despite the dangerous velocity of her growing bond. Unlike the previous time, with her last lover, she thought to have matured and was finding her shattered self becoming whole again, the gift of motherhood allowing her growth. She was ready and eager, this time. Prepared even, she thought. But there was really no preparation for Bobby’s pull. The motorcycle glides along the coastline highway, passing the shores of Atlantis to a more quiet beach area, where the seagulls flutter across the cotton candy pink and purple sky. The couple would finally slow down, pulling in front of a modern but modest beach house, Emma thereafter exhaling whilst being plucked from the bike with the strength of Bobby’s strapping arms, and carefully placed on the strength of her buckling legs. “I probably shouldn't have worn a dress... wait, this is your’s?” she inquires with mild astonishment, as the wind continues to toss her hair and force against the air escaping her lips. “The house, I mean.” MONTY @Maxim

NO, now shut the fuck up

ugh yes, the crowd for that would have made it special, the Royal Rumble stuff was so good   which ironically, Drew got his moment there as well, so did Edge, so I guess they'll be content.

awwww him crying, he deserves

YASSSSSS DREW   I really wish this was in front of a crowd too, they would have erupted. I hope when they go back live, he gets a MASSIVE ovation.

them implying her breast milk tiddies add an extra 20 pounds

lkfjglkfg I'm mad though because the production was still cheap and hokey because WWE refuses to fire the people they had since the 80s, could you imagine this shit with modern creatives? They'd get true cinematic quality out of an iPhone  

that fucking slayed  

whew I'm stanning