―       it wasn’t exactly her place to have stepped into the men’s locker room but zelina had wanted to talk over the strategy for an upcoming event with andrade   .   she hadn’t expected him to have left already   –   huh   .   but when she had eyed the new guy still packing up his bags she had seen an opportunity she was more than happy to take   .   it never hurt establishing dominance   ,   especially being the only woman who regularly visited the men’s locker room   .   for business only   ,   of course   .   considering her height and the fact that nobody really knew how badly she could kick ass   ,   words were all that was left to zelina to proof that she owned all of nxt   .

      her hands came to rest on her hips   .   the dude had no business looking handsome as he did   .   the simple fact that she found herself being attracted to him annoyed her more than she cared to admit   .   ❛   you think this is funny   ?  andrade will kick your ass out of the locker room quicker than you can put those locks in braids before you go doing the booboo at night   .   ❜   the brunette snapped   ,   a sense of anger in her tone   .

      dark eyes glared at him   .   he deserved it   ,   she told herself even though vega was well aware there was no other reason to this situation than her own personal agenda   .   she stared for another couple of seconds before turning on her heel   .   ❛   we drink at pure   .  see ya there   .   ❜   she stomped off after having told him where to meet her   .   the guy needed to be taught a lesson   .   she needed to be sure that he wouldn’t forget who zelina vega was   .   partially   ,   because she wanted to see him get his ass handed in the ring   .   and another part of her wanted him to think of her at night when he’d be all by himself   .   nobody would ever know   .   a secret   ,   one that belonged to her alone   . 

✨ @darlinrogue. meme. still accepting!

i dont have to say anything. im a gift to this community and planet earth itself my presence says it all

Jay Lost The Meme

@darlinrogue​ asked:

​ ❛ I no longer compute what’s weird. ❜ (ADAM and ADAM fjdsklfjsaldfjsal)

He snorts, arms crossed.

“S good.” He says with a nod. “You gotta be, in this line of work.” He’s seen it all. Demons (but he and his brother are in that faction), superheroes, clowns, monsters, members of the one percent... It’s fascinating. It’s awful. It’s weird.

And now, with that Abadon thing crawling along the ceiling, he can only be glad that he’s retired.

Not his yard, not his problem.

So he shrugs and leaves, off on the search for a cold drink.

He knew where he stood  in the industry. A legend. A nightmare. A myth. He knows. He gets it. He does. But he also knows that sometimes, that’s what it takes to get through to someone. People listened when he spoke. And Adam needed to listen.

... And talk, apparently. Kid talks a lot. Oh, well. That was good. Might help him figure out what was going on. So the Deadman sits back, arms crossed, against the wall and listens. His face is largely unreadable, even if he...  Didn’t exactly anticipate this to be the subject. He wrinkles his nose and huffs.

“You’re not being ribbed.” He scoffs. Be a hell of a weird joke to play, in his opinion. Yeah, come in, kid. The Undertaker is here to tell you not to join cults. Haha, hilarious. ... Well, okay, he’d be fair. It did sound weird when you put it so plainly. Still, though. He hadn’t thought he’d be accused of joking; wasn’t like he was known for a sense of humor. Whatever. He motions to the bench again.

“Sit down.” And Adam does. Finally. Well, that’s some progress made, at least. Sort of. The deadman waves one hand in the air and the door closes. This was best kept private, for many reasons. Didn’t need anyone butting in. He arches a brow at the praise, snorts, but there is a flicker of a smirk when his head lolls to the side. It had been a pretty good match; one of his best, if he said so himself. But then, it was no surprise. He and Shawn knew how to put on a show. Had to give their all. Always nice to hear that they’d delivered. He’d have to pass it along when this was dealt with. And it would be dealt with. He wasn’t moving until it was. The rest of the boys here would learn to deal with it. He was their problem, for the time being. Good luck.

He nods to himself without speaking. Just work here. Sure, sure. It always started that way. You never really realized when it was happening until it had already happened. Most people wouldn’t walk up and say ‘hey, I’m in a cult, join with me’. ... Most people. He’d known some strange ones. (He was a strange one.) He’s about to speak again when the younger man repeats the same question from before.

“For the love--” He grimaces and shakes his head. “You’re not being ribbed, you’re being a dumbass!” He snaps. Well, maybe not the gentlest touch, but-- He had a feeling ‘delicate’ wouldn’t work here. Best to be blunt. “People like that don’t have your best interest in mind. It’s a cult. You don’t need that shit.” He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “And they know that. I know that.” One hand lifts to point at Adam.

“But I don’t think you know that. So, you need to really think.” And he folds his hands in front of his chest, elbows back on his knees.

                             smile bares a flash of ivory canines ; PREDATOR or PREY ? cruelty in the curve of gaping maw && it is all she can do to remain impassive --- slender digits lift , pressing a tip to her cheek as if in thought , yet not a single word leaves crimson lips ; honeyed gaze simply remains upon the WATERBENDER , as though weighing options of outcomes .                          comment had caused little response , yet within RAGED a war , something twisting in her stomach ; so insidious she could scarcely stand it . but still did DEFIANCE hold , languid across sharp features .                        ‘ you talk a pretty big game , i wonder if you can back it up . ‘                  subtle movement , something given in the blink of an eye -- every piece of her screams of danger , of INSTABILITY -- a shell , perhaps , of what once was . foot crunches against gravel beneath , && yet ... there is something distinctly amused about posture -- as though she truly cared not for the possibility of VIOLENCE .                      ( 𝙞 𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 )

SOME  ONE  WORD  PROMPTS .

@darlinrogue​ asked:

shot :   my  muse  gets  shot  and  struggles  to  your  muse for  aid. (Adora and Adam)

This was still so strange. Fighting against the Horde still felt... Wrong. No, he doesn’t regret leaving (mostly). No, he doesn’t dislike the Rebellion. This is what’s right. People were suffering because of the Horde. He knew that. He was glad to actually be helping people now, like he’d been told he’d been doing for so long. This was repentance. He owed this to... 

Well.

A lot of people. 

But it still was difficult to face down the Horde. He knew a lot of these people. Some of the younger ones, he’d helped train, or at the very least, seen them grow up. To know he could be the one taking their life... It was strange. A crossing of the wires the Horde had soldered into his psyche: One that said to ignore lives taken as necessary, and the other that said to be loyal to the other soldiers. But this wasn’t about petty factions; this was about survival. 

Either they walked away or he did. 

Sparks dance from his hand without effort. He doesn’t need a weapon. As cliche as it may be to say, he was one. It’s easy to send a solid thump of electricity along with his fist to lock up muscles and organs and make them drop. Breathing or no, he doesn’t care. Again, they go home or he does. (... Not home. Where was home?) The Horde uses machines and that is their downfall. Metal is so conductive. 

The runes glow in front of him and an explosion rocks the ground. It’s so easy to fall into the rhythm of battle again. So natural. So right. Claws of lightning still dance across the ground when motion catches his eye. He pivots--

Adora.

Or-- She-Ra. He wasn’t sure how the names worked. He’d never bothered to ask. She caught his eye. He thought she was about to say something. Maybe she had been. She didn’t get a chance to. A loud blast, a flash of light, and Adora-Or-She-Ra flew back through the air. 

“Adora!” He almost moved to her. Couldn’t. The bots turned to him. He snarls, sinks low in his stance, digs his heel into the grass. Another rune circle follows the quick motion of his hand. A flick of the wrist-- A wave of lightning-- A wave of water-? He steps back and--

Oh.

Right.

That’s one of theirs. Well, it looks like she - Mermista, he thinks? - has the situation handled. He glances over his shoulder one last time, keeps his eyes surveying as he runs to where Adora-Or-She-Ra--- No, just Adora, now, just like when they’d met again - is struggling to rise again, blinking up at him with the same look she always had when she was about to do something reckless.