#becky tough

[theoppositeofhero]

l am loving all these Loyal Pin teaser photos! Thank you to all the accounts actively sharing 🤩

I am still laughing hard, the joke really is on me. I remembered the very first time I got into Gap the series. It was to just mock my bestie who was so into them (Freen moreso) but as it turned out, I lived for the campiness the drama brought, in its entirety! (mind you I almost signed up for twitter X! 😂)

As much as I am looking forward to Uranus 2324 (extremely close to heading to Bangkok to catch it! 😁) I am looking forward to this series more, was even looking for the kindle version which is of course not available where I’m at 🙄

Anyways, thank you thank you thank you for all the photos 🫶🏽

[billthedrake]

FAMILY BUSINESS

"You want another, son?" Frank Mazza asked as he and his son Anthony sat in the living room of Frank's townhouse. Thursdays after work were generally dad-and-son time, a chance to catch up outside of work. It was pretty much the same every week. Two beers before Tony went back to the "luxury apartment" he shared with his girlfriend Becky. The TV on mute as ESPN or some sports game played. Conversation drifting between small talk to serious matters and back to small talk.

Every Thursday Frank asked his son if he wanted a third beer, and every Thursday Tony declined. Frank gathered Tony wasn't pussy whipped or anything, but the two had shared enough guy talk to know the 24-year-old never liked to miss a day when it came to sex and if he came home too late, or too drunk, Becky wouldn't put out.

The Mazza men had shared a lot more guy talk lately.

Tony lifted up his bottle and gave it a glance before finishing it off with a final swig. The kid had the killer Mazza smile and those soulful brown eyes that made him a ladies man in high school and in his fraternity days at college. "Yeah, sound good, Dad," he said. "Though I'll have to take an Uber or something."

Frank cracked a grin and patted Tony's knee with his big mitt of a hand before he hoisted his beefy body up. "You're always welcome to crash in the spare room."

Tony grinned. "You ever gonna put away all my football trophies?" he laughed.

Frank chuckled. "It's still your room, Tone... I guess a father never gets over the empty nest thing."

Tony rolled his eyes some but didn't lose that Mazza smile. "Empty nest? Dad, we see each other practically every day. More than after the divorce."

Frank winced a little in the grimace. That had been tough. He still didn't know if he'd made the right move divorcing Janice when he did. It killed him to think he'd put his son through that and selfishly he knew it had made his relationship with Tone a lot tougher for a lot of years. "Yeah," he said softly.

"Come on, Dad," Anthony objected. "I didn't mean it like that."

Frank nodded and went to get two more beers. He felt relieved when he came back and indeed Tony was in one of his relaxed, happy go lucky moods.

"Long day," the son said as he took a sip.

"Now you know how I've felt all these years," Frank said. It wasn't that Frank Mazza didn't value being a family man, but he'd always been a workaholic. He loved being in the provider role, maybe, and certainly loved the satisfaction of an honest day's work, maybe it was more satisfying than the emotional connections he sometimes had a hard time with in marriage.

Anthony shrugged. "I don't mind the hours when I know I'm working for myself."

Frank grinned. He was 44 now and thick-muscular Italian looks were now more clearly handsome. Gray temples set off his tan face and his otherwise dark hair. And his clean-shaven scruff made his dark complexion more alluringly masculine. "You know... I didn't expect you'd come back and join the business," he said, opening up with that third beer.

Tony grinned. "Yeah, Dad. I know. But I never had a doubt I wanted to... I mean... you worked hard to build the business up, I wanna do the Mazza name proud."

Frank worried he was going to get emotional. He and Tone had a rough patch when he was in high school, and he knew for sure that once the kid went off to college and got the degree his father never did... well, Frank expected Tony to never look back.

Instead, Mazza Contractors became Mazza and Son. They joked that Frank was the Brawn and Tony was the brains. It wasn't like his son wasn't muscular in his own right - a former tight end in high school and a regular devotee of the gym these days, Tony was downright buff. But he had a Bachelors in Business Administration and a good head for accounting. Tony was already the one interfacing with clients, generally well-to-do suburbanites looking for an upscale kitchen or bathroom remodel job. More than Frank, he knew how to talk those fuckers' language and how to placate demanding Karens. And when needed, Frank would show up to assure them of that blue-collar work ethic.

"So..." Frank said, changing the subject. "Becky not expecting you home?"

Tony shook his head. He had a look that was a mix of wounded and defiant. "Nah, we broke up."

"What?" the father said. Maybe because Tony had rekindled things with his high school sweetheart after graduation, he expected this one to last. "Sorry to hear, son."

Tony shrugged. "It's all right. It kind of sucks, but I was the one to call things off."

Frank leaned forward, his brown eyes showing that parental concern. "Can I ask what the problem was?"

Gone was that Mazza smile as Tony explained. "It's just... you know how Becky is very independent. You know, the career woman type... I don't know, Dad... I think I need someone more traditional."

"Traditional?" Frank questioned.

Tony grinned. "Yeah, you know, kind of like you and Mom. The wife staying home, taking care of things, the man being the bread winner. That kind of thing."

Frank patted Tony's shoulder in reassurance. "I know times have changed," he said. "But I'm pretty sure there are some traditional women out there."

Tony nodded. "Probably, yeah."

Frank leaned in and sais in a quiet, conspiratorial tone. "Just be careful... some of the traditional girls... well, they sometimes expect to be spoiled some. Particularly if they're pretty."

Tony laughed. "I know Mom was a princess, Dad," he said. "You don't have to mince words."

Frank clapped Tone's firm shoulder and withdrew his hand. "Guess not. Look... I made a promise I was never gonna speak ill of your mother to ya. But I'll just say there were times I wish I'd been supported more at home. After a ten hour day, sometimes a man just wants to be pampered a little when he gets home, you know?"

Tony's eyes met his. "That's it in a nutshell, Dad. It's just us guys, right?" the son asked as a prelude to what he was about to say. Not all fathers and sons talked openly about sex, but Frank never seemed to have any hangups, and since Tony had first gone to college they reconnected almost like buddies as much as family.

"Yeah," Frank assured him. "Just us guys."

"Becky was nice and all... and in my way I loved her, Dad. Still do.. but, fuck... I'd get home from the office and she'd be yammering about all her work crap and I'd just want to kick back and get a fucking blowjob."

Tony's crude words didn't shock Frank. Just as Frank's never shocked Tony.

"I hear ya, son," the man said. "Your old man's not one to be handing out dating advice, but you should find a girl who likes giving head and doesn't mind giving it."

Tony grinned. "Had one girl in college who did. But she was a stuck up bitch," he said. "She thought she was slumming it by going out with an Italian dude... I guess we both used each other."

Frank grinned. He had a good idea which girl Tone was talking about.

But his son's train of thought had already moved on. "Well, it's a hell of a lot easier with guys."

Frank's eyes went wide. He'd had a couple experiences like that under his belt. But the father-son chats had never gone there, not even in their most buddy-buddy candidness. "You done that, Tone?"

His son took a sip of beer and nodded. "It's easy as ordering fucking takeout, Dad," he laughed. "You go on your phone, see what's on the menu, pick out a cocksucker... and then it's pick up or delivery." His accent was now half North Jersey, half generic college-bro, but as he talked crudely, his thicker Jersey side won out.

Frank laughed. His mind was going to where he tried not to let it go. To the idea of his own son's cock and some man servicing it. "Easier than when I was your age," the father blurted out.

Now it was Anthony's turn to be surprised. "You done that, too, Pop?"

Frank blushed, but he didn't want to seem like the shy one. "Well, maybe a little younger than you... before I married your mother... sure, but it was more buddies helping each other out, you know?"

Anthony gave a half-shrug, half-nod that said he'd never had that kind of arrangement with his friends. Then his lips curled into a naughty smile. "You, uh, interested in some fun, Dad?" he asked.

Frank gulped. His mind was definitely going somewhere it shouldn't. And at that moment he wished his only son wasn't so goddamn handsome.... "Whaddya mean?" he asked softly.

Tony pulled out his phone and swiped to open it. "There's one guy who always drops everything when I hit him up," he typed the phone screen a couple times and looked up. "He's really fucking good, Dad... my favorite lately... I'm sure he'd be up for taking care of you, too."

"I don't know, Tone," Frank said, caution kicking in.

But his son was undeterred. "Come on, Dad, it'll be fun..." Then leaning back, he flashed that Mazza smile to his father and asked, "when was the last time you got laid?"

Frank shook his head. "I'm not sure this is something a father discusses with his son."

"It's just us guys, Dad," Tony countered. "How long?"

Frank blushed again. "Eight months."

"Jesus fucking Christ," his son swore. He went back to messaging the online cocksucker. "You're definitely getting some head tonight."

The burly, blue collar man thought he'd be pissed at Tony for being bossy like this. But he was secretly glad. He needed to get out of his comfort zone. Maybe Tone was onto something, using guys until the right woman came along. And he even more secretly he felt a thrill at seeing his normally good-kid of a son have a naughty sexual side. A take charge side.

"There," Tony said with a laugh as he set down his phone. "Told ya. He'll be over in fifteen minutes."

Fear came again to the Dad. "Is he... um gonna do both of us? At the same time?" The idea thrilled Frank but scared the hell out of him too.

Tony shook his head. Eyes meeting his father's for that brief moment of illicit knowledge passed between them. Tony imagining that incestuous scenario but he laughed it off. "Fuck that would be wild... ha, no, we'll take turns. He knows you're my dad, though... I think that turns the fucker on... hope you don't mind."

"No," Frank replied quietly. Then looking into Tony's brown eyes, he asked, "He's good, you say?"

"The best," the son replied. He nudged Frank's arm. "Seriously, he's gonna put those high school buddies of yours to shame."

Frank was still nervous when the guy showed up. Ian was his name. Good looking, gym built gay dude in his late 30s. Surprisingly comfortable being led in by Tony.

"Ian... this is my Dad. Dad, this is Ian," Tony said. Weirdly confident and relaxed. "Ok, if I go first? I could fuck a hole in the wall I'm so horny."

Frank felt a tightness in his crotch. He'd shared guy talk with Tone, but never seen his boy quite like this. He just gave a nod and watched his son lead Ian down the hall.

The wait was interminable. But was really five minutes tops. Then Tony strutted in, face flushed, a smile showing. That recognizable just-got-laid relaxation on his face.

"Your turn, Dad. He's waiting in my room for ya."

"Thanks," Frank said, standing up. He considered backing out, but he was too turned on now. He wasn't as nearly self conscious as he should have been by the hardon his son could see or the smirk Tony flashed when he saw it.

Ian was waiting for him all right. Sitting on Tony's old bed, surrounded by his son's old stuff that Frank kept in that second bedroom, all the posters and the football trophies. The man was unzipped and had a cock in hand and a horny look on his face.

"God, I can't believe this," the cocksucker said.

Frank didn't know a lot of gay guys, but this guy was rearranging a lot of his hang ups fast. He looked at the guy's dick. The first he'd seen up close and personal in a long time. He shut the bedroom door and locked it. Then turned to Ian.

"Ok, if I suck you?" he asked. He was almost too chicken to ask, but he knew he'd never get a chance like this again.

Ian's eyes went wide in surprise for a second, then he let go of his prick, a solid tool nearing seven inches and standing ramrod straight as the man leaned back on his arms on Tony's bed. "Sure, man... go for it."

Frank Mazza was running on adrenaline. The way he crouched down and got in place. Like he'd seen chicks do in porn. He was like one of those bimbos, he thought, but the idea didn't scare him like he thought. It turned him the fuck on.

"God yes," Ian hissed as Frank started taking that dick into his mouth. "Suck me, Daddy."

Hell, this was fucking with Frank's mind. He bobbed faster and deeper. He choked some and Ian had to tell him to go slower. He did and gradually he got into a good rhythm, a nice balance between speed and depth.

THIS felt incredible, the father decided. Not like those truth-or-dare experiments or those BJ swaps with his high school buddies. This was raw intense sex between meen. Frank was 44 and just now discovering how right this felt for him. He sucked more furiously, happy his gag reflex was holding off. Barely but holding off.

Even as cum pulsed into his throat. Ian didn't bother to announce his orgasm. Didn't matter: Frank would have swallowed that load greedily. He almost didn't want to relinquish that prick, but Ian was getting sensitive.

"Damn... you should definitely treat your son to THAT," he laughed. "That's some great head."

Frank leaned up. He was beyond thinking straight, he was horny as hell and hard in his jeans. "What?" he asked.

Ian grinned. "Dude, you're both such pervs... Tony couldn't stop talking about you the whole time I blew him."

"For real?" Frank asked excitedly, not concealing what he wanted the answer to be.

"For real," the man assured him. Then reading the older man's face, he added, "That turns you on, doesn't it?"

Frank nodded, tears welling up a little, but his dick hard as steel.

Ian grinned and reached down to rub Frank's crotch and unbutton him. "I wanna suck you too, man... first son, then father... total fantasy on a silver platter."

Frank grunted and nodded. And then watched as an experienced cocksucker crouched down and slowly, expertly brought him off to a deep cum.

The two got straightened up and Ian got a suddenly sheepish look on his face. "If I give you my number, will you let me know if anything happens between you two?"

Frank could tell the incest thing was a big turn on for this guy. But was feeling less comfortable now. "I don't know, man."

"Come on... just take my number. You don't have to tell me anything too private. Hell if you just wanna hit me up for some no-strings fun, that's cool."

"Yeah," Frank relented. He had to admit that idea was appealing.

Ian gave a quick wave as he walked past Tony. "Later, man."

"Yep," Tony half waved and went back to watching sports.

Frank realized he had a similarly primal look of sexual satisfaction his son did a while ago. But as he sat down, he realized that maybe something more had transpired that evening. That maybe the genie was out of the bottle.

He looked over at his son. He had the Mazza nose and jaw line, along with some of his mother's good looks. Tony was a stunner, all right, just the kind of young stud that was just "nice" and approachable to get women to put out.

Frank thought about what it would be like to suck his son's cock.

Tony caught his father looking. He glanced over with a wink. "Ian's good, right, Dad?"

Frank blushed and nodded, turning his attention back to the TV and picking up the beer for a much needed gulp. It was half-warm but he didn't care. The man was parched now. "Yep, Tone," he finally replied. "Like you said... the best."

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Snack Wars.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - niall and louis have done it, now it’s time for hazza to take part.

word count - 2.6k

in which, on this episode of snack wars, we sit down with a certain curly headed lad who goes by the name of harry styles who happens to be comparing british and american snacks.

"Hi, M’Harry Styles, and this is Snack Wars: Britain versus America on LADbible."

He was sat at a small table, wearing an open buttoned black blouse revealing his swallow tattooed partially, and a matching pair of black trousers, with a black version of his satellite stompers.

The scene cut to a moment of anticipation as Harry, a playful smile on his face, leaned forward to lift the silver cloche that concealed the surprise snack showdown. With an air of curiosity, he wondered aloud, "What ‘ave y’got for me, huh?”

With a theatrical flourish, Harry unveiled the hidden treasures. His eyes widened as he beheld the items laid before him.

"Well, this is intriguing," he mused.

On the British side, there sat a classic bone china teacup, adorned with delicate floral patterns. Steam wafted from the cup, carrying the unmistakable aroma of freshly brewed English tea. A smile tugged at the corners of Harry's lips as he appreciated the comforting sight.

Then, on the American side, he found a tall Starbucks cup, its iconic logo staring back at him.

"Hot chocolate, huh?" Harry noted, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. The rich, velvety beverage was topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream, drizzled with chocolate syrup—a quintessential indulgence.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the contrast before him.

"A classic cup of English tea versus a Starbucks hot chocolate," he said with a playful grin. "S’like comparing tradition with a bit of modern comfort."

As he picked up the English teacup, Harry took a contemplative sip and savoured the warm, familiar flavour.

"Y’just can't beat a good cuppa," he admitted with a nod of approval.

Turning his attention to the Starbucks hot chocolate, as he brought the cup closer to his mouth and took a sip of the Starbucks hot chocolate, a warm smile crossed his face.

"Y’know," he mused, "S’m’son Jude's favorite drink at t’moment."

From behind the camera, the producer, Becky, chimed in with a playful tone.

"Well, Harry, you might have to take it home with you then," she suggested.

Harry turned toward the camera, a twinkle in his eye, and replied,

"Yeah, I might have to," adding a soft chuckle. The idea of bringing a taste of the challenge back to his family seemed rather appealing.

"N’this s’like a cosy hug in a cup," he quipped.

With both cups now in hand, Harry found himself in the middle of a delightful dilemma. He was torn between the classic cup of English tea and the comforting Starbucks hot chocolate. He took another sip of the hot chocolate, the rich cocoa flavour lingering on his taste buds, and then turned to the English tea, its aroma inviting him back to tradition.

With a playful frown, he mused aloud, "S’a tough decision, isn't it?"

The camera captured his contemplative expression as he hesitated. Finally, he extended his index finger, pointing toward the cup of English tea.

"Y’know," Harry said with a hint of hesitation, "y’just can't beat a bit of tradition."

As he made his choice, he looked into the camera, a mischievous glint in his eye, and added, "But don't get me wrong, s’hot chocolate s’fantastic too."

The crew behind the scenes chuckled at Harry's charming indecision, understanding the difficulty of choosing between two beloved beverages.

As the scene wrapped up with Harry having chosen the English tea, there was a moment of transition, and another producer, Sarah, stepped in, placing a fresh cloche on the table.

Harry, ever the showman, decided to play along. He feigned excitement, clapping his hands together as if he were a kid about to open a birthday present.

"Ooh, S’under this one, ey?" he exclaimed with playful enthusiasm.

The crew behind the camera burst into laughter at Harry's antics. It was a heartwarming moment of genuine amusement, and it made Harry feel happy that he could bring a bit of laughter to the set.

Sarah joined in on the fun, making a dramatic reveal as she lifted the cloche, unveiling a new surprise snack.

With the producer, Sarah, excusing herself to organise the next set of snacks, Harry turned back to face the camera. He couldn't help but maintain his charming grin, fully embracing the fun and spontaneity of the Snack Wars challenge.

With a sly wink to the camera, he reached forward, once again lifting the cloche. The reveal this time brought forth a quintessentially British delight – a plate of buttered crumpets. The golden-brown crumpets glistened under the studio lights, promising a warm, comforting taste of the UK.

As Harry lifted the cloche to reveal the buttered crumpets, he couldn't quite hide a slightly disdained expression. The golden discs of toasted goodness sat there, tempting, but his reaction was unmissable.

Producer Becky, who was watching closely, couldn't help but notice Harry's reaction. She raised an eyebrow and said, "Not a fan of crumpets, Harry?"

Harry chuckled, his signature honesty shining through.

"Y’know ‘hat?," he began, "M’not exactly t’biggest fan f’crumpets, t’be honest. S’the texture, y’see."

He leaned forward, elaborating, "M’don't really like how they feel in t’mouth. S’a bit... spongy f’m’liking." He demonstrated by pressing a finger into one of the crumpets, watching it bounce back. "But ey’, s’just me."

With the crumpets before him, Harry Styles decided to give them another chance. He leaned forward, picked up one of the buttered crumpets, and took a cautious bite. However, as soon as he tasted the spongy texture, his face contorted in discomfort.

He chewed for a moment, but it was clear that the texture didn't sit well with him. Harry quickly reached for a napkin and discreetly spat out the bite he had taken. He shook his head, a look of mild frustration on his face, and simply said, "I can't do it. I can't."

The crew around him chuckled, empathising with his culinary struggles. Harry Styles may be an international superstar, but even he had his food preferences.

Harry, ever the trooper, decided to set aside the crumpets and turned his attention to the colourful box of Lucky Charms. With a playful glint in his eye, he grabbed a bowl and poured a generous serving of the whimsical cereal. The rainbow-hued marshmallow shapes and toasted oat pieces tumbled into the bowl, creating a delightful medley of colours.

He then grabbed the jug of cold milk and added a generous splash, watching as the cereal pieces began to bob and soak up the milk. With a cheeky grin, he couldn't resist poking fun at his previous crumpet encounter. He turned to the camera and quipped, "Anything's better than those crumpets, am I right?"

The crew burst into laughter, sharing in his jest. Harry then picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of Lucky Charms, and brought it to his mouth. As the sweet, crunchy goodness met his taste buds, his eyes sparkled with delight. He savored the delightful combination of textures and flavors, nodding approvingly.

With a mouthful of cereal, he gave a thumbs-up to the camera, clearly enjoying the contrast between the playful sweetness of the American cereal and the earlier challenge of the British crumpets.

“One point to America.” He grinned after he swallowed the mouthful.

The scene transitioned smoothly, and as the camera focused on the table, another cloche awaited Harry’s playful curiosity. With a grin, he leaned forward and lifted the cloche to reveal a Greggs bakery wrapper and a McDonald's wrapper neatly placed side by side.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "Well, well, well," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Can't go wrong with either of these, can ya?"

The crew laughed, understanding the dilemma he was about to face – a classic choice between the savoury delights of a Greggs bakery treat and the fast-food comfort of McDonald's.

With a mock-serious expression, he picked up the Greggs wrapper, his anticipation evident. "S’what we've got here,ey?"

As Harry pulled the Greggs wrapper open, he was met with a surprise – a vegan sausage roll neatly nested inside. He leaned forward, his curiosity piqued, and brought the roll closer to his nose to take in its scent.

He gave it a tentative sniff and then grinned.

"Interesting," he mused, before taking a hearty bite out of the vegan sausage roll. His eyes twinkled as he chewed, clearly contemplating the taste.

After a few moments, Harry swallowed and offered his verdict.

"Well, I like it," he said with a nod. "S’got that sausage taste, y’know?

With the taste of the vegan sausage roll still on his palate, Harry shifted his attention to the McDonald's wrapper. He couldn't help but smile as he pulled out a Fillet-O-Fish box. The familiar golden arches symbolised a comforting fast-food favorite .

The producer, who had orchestrated this surprise, chimed in, "We thought you might enjoy that, Harry, considering you're pescatarian."

Harry's eyes brightened as he looked at the Filet-O-Fish box.

"Well, thank y’for thinking of me," he replied warmly. "S’always nice t’have options."

With gratitude in his voice, he proceeded to open the box, revealing the crispy fish sandwich inside. The delightful aroma of the fish and tartar sauce filled the air, making him even more eager to take a bite.

With a grin of anticipation, Harry took a big bite of the Fillet-O-Fish. The moment the flavors hit his taste buds, his eyes closed in pleasure, and he let out a satisfied hum. It was clear that the familiar taste brought him genuine delight.

He tilted his head back slightly, savoring the moment, and the producers couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiastic reaction. It was a simple yet heartwarming display of food appreciation.

As he finished that delicious bite, one of the producers asked, "Harry, do you have McDonald's a lot?"

Harry shook his head, his mouth still full. He chewed and swallowed before answering,

"Not really, but it does hold a special place in m’heart."

He continued,

"Y’see, it was actually mine and m’fiancée's first takeaway together, about six years ago. So, s’got some sentimental value." Harry's eyes softened as he reminisced about that memorable moment.

The crew smiled, appreciating the personal touch Harry added to the Snack Wars challenge.

So it was safe to say that McDonald’s got the point for that one.

As Harry lifted the next cloche lid, he uncovered a delightful surprise – a Victoria sponge cake and a Twinkie side by side. The contrast between the classic British treat and the iconic American snack was evident.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of the Victoria sponge, its layers of sponge and sweet jam filling beckoning to him.

"Now, this looks promising," he remarked.

However, his gaze lingered on the Twinkie, and he let out a small chuckle.

"Ah, Twinkies," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "V’actually had a bit of a... bad experience with these."

Producer Becky, always curious, couldn't resist asking for more details. "Oh, really? What happened, Harry?"

Harry leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Well, when I was around nineteen, I was touring in t’States," he began, "n’someone dared me t’eat a whole box of Twinkies in one go." He paused, his eyes crinkling with a mix of nostalgia and humor. "I took up t’challenge, but let's just say it didn't end well. I ended up... well, throwing them all up."

The crew burst into laughter at Harry's candid confession. It was a tale of youthful daredevilry and the consequences of overindulgence, and it added another layer of charm to the Snack Wars challenge.

Harry couldn't help but be drawn to the sight of the Victoria sponge cake. Its soft layers and sweet jam filling were a comforting temptation. With a subtle smile, he slowly pushed the Twinkie away from him, turning all his attention to the British delight that made his mouth water.

Without hesitation, he picked up the entire cake with both hands and, with a mischievous glint in his eye, took an enormous, unapologetic bite. The sweet icing smeared all over his scruff and lips as he indulged in the delightful treat.

Amidst Harry's enthusiastic cake-eating, the crew couldn't contain their laughter. Icing adorned his face, and the scene was a humorous mix of sophistication and playful indulgence.

With his mouth full of cake, Harry attempted to speak, his words muffled as he declared, "Britain... takes the point on this one!" His sentiment was clear despite the sugary obstacle, and the crew erupted into even more laughter at his charmingly messy verdict.

As the Snack Wars challenge continued, the next cloche was unveiled, revealing yet another intriguing matchup. On one side of the table sat a bottle of Pimms, accompanied by a glass of lemonade, and on the other side was a shot glass with a bottle of bourbon beside it.

Harry, ever the adventurer, leaned forward to examine the options before him. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he took in the contrasting beverages.

"S’a fun choice," he remarked with a grin. "We've got a taste f’British summer with Pimms and lemonade on one side, and a good old American bourbon on the other."

With a thoughtful nod, Harry decided to start with the Pimms and lemonade. He picked up the bottle of Pimms and carefully poured some into the glass of lemonade. The vibrant red and orange hues mingled with the fizzy lemonade, creating a refreshing blend.

He brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip. His eyes lit up as he savoured the harmonious combination of flavours.

"S’good," he declared with a contented smile.

Harry leaned back in his chair, gazing into the distance with a nostalgic glint in his eye.

"Y’know," he began, "s’actually reminds me f’when I go back t’m’mum's house in the summer. S’her favourite drink."

After enjoying the Pimms and lemonade, Harry turned his attention to the bourbon, a drink he admitted he hadn't had much experience with. He picked up the shot glass, inspecting the rich amber liquid within.

"V’not really had bourbon before," he admitted with a curious expression.

Undeterred, he decided to give it a try and threw the shot down the back of his throat. The moment the bourbon hit his palate, he grimaced as the fiery liquid burned its way down his throat. He shook his head, trying to soothe the sensation.

The crew watched with amusement and sympathy, realising that bourbon could be quite the intense experience for a first-timer.

After his adventurous sip of bourbon, Harry Styles placed the shot glass back on the table and looked between the two drinks before him – the Pimms and lemonade and the bourbon. His expression conveyed a sense of contemplation as he considered the flavours and experiences each beverage offered.

With a thoughtful nod, he finally made his decision.

"I think," he began, "I'll give the point t’Britain on this one."

His choice was clear, as he favoured the refreshing blend of Pimms and lemonade, a taste that held sentimental value and fond memories for him.

With the Snack Wars challenge completed, Harry still faced the camera, a contented smile on his face after the culinary adventure he had just embarked upon. The table before him held remnants of both British and American treats, a testament to the diversity of flavours he had experienced.

Becky, one of the producers, couldn't resist the opportunity to share the results. She leaned in and asked, "Harry, would you like to know the final result?"

Harry turned toward her, his curiosity piqued, and replied with a playful grin, "Yes, I'd love t’know!"

Becky beamed and announced, "Britain won!"

Harry chuckled and nodded in approval.

"Ah, y’can't go wrong with t’British," he quipped, showcasing his patriotism with a touch of humour.

[powderblueblood]

FOUR TIMES YOU WERE STRUCK INCAPABLE OF IMAGINING YOUR LIFE WITHOUT EDDIE MUNSON

(+ one, of the many, where he felt the same about you)

part of the hellfire & ice universe eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, you know the drill, minors dni only warnings are for fluff and eddie and lacy being cute and in denial word count: 2k tagging @chiefbonkpruneegg happy birthday pal <3 enjoy this nonsense

TRACK ONE: LET'S STICK WITH TELEVISION FOR TWO HUNDRED, ALEX

You and Eddie balance on either side of Ronnie Ecker's couch like faithful gargoyles, armed with soup and homework. Ronnie's caught the worst end of some green-gooed virus, so you two have taken it upon yourselves to deliver the necessities; tomato soup with extra hot sauce ("To snot out the demons," quoth Eddie) and history homework. But something on the television sucked you both right in, Poltergeist style, as you entered the Ecker trailer. Some hot young thing called Alex Trebek, captaining the maiden voyage of a brand new Jeopardy.

"You know who would kill on this show?" Eddie says, settling himself on the armrest to Ronnie's sniffling left.

"Guh, who?" Ronnie asks, huffing the steaming vapors of the spicy tomato soup like it's paint fumes.

You're pitched on the other armrest, pointing the rolled up history homework toward the screen. "What is the White H--US Treasury, are you fucking stupid?! Have these people never seen a twenty dollar bill before? What is the White House!"

You toss a glance over to Ronnie and Eddie for reassurance, just in time to catch them sharing a look. A good ol' Lacy know-it-all look. "Oh, shut up. as if I have more useless information rattling around in my brain than--"

Both you and Eddie snap at the TV in unison, "Who is Elvis Presley!"

Your turn to share a look. Game on? Game on.

It rolls on like that for a couple of categories, Ronnie sipping her soup straight from the container between you, hiding a smile as you and Eddie gradually bark louder and louder. Who are the Marx Brothers! What is 'break a leg'! Who was Napoleon!

"What, you're paying attention in History all of a sudden?"

"I'm a solid C student thanks to you, baby."

It occurs to you suddenly and begrudgingly and all at once; Eddie's right. You would kill on this show. But more than that, you want to wipe the floor and wring Eddie Munson out like the mop that he is.

"The greeting which opened each episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents."

"What is," both of you, in perfect Hitchcock tonality and without missing a beat, "Gooooood eeeeevening."

TRACK TWO: LIKE IF BECKY SHARP WAS FRIENDS WITH A BIG GOOFY HOUND DOG

Your first honest-to-god paycheck from the Bookstore was a fat wad of tens and singles plus change and it was handed to you in a brown paper bag. Invest this wisely, said Ivana, so of course, you followed your heart and your hard earned cash directly to the thrift store.

The front bell ding-a-lings and you walk through the door holding your moneybag aloft like the biggest, blue ribbon winning-est gourd at the county fair. You are proud as hell, because you did this! On your own! This isn't your daddy's money, this isn't the result of a once-toyed with idea that you might make a really good cat burglar, this was yours all yours!

"Put that down already! It's like you're wearing a sign saying mug me!" Eddie, bringing up the rear, yanks your arm back down by your side.

You laugh, mirthful and Hepburnian. "More like try me! I'm a working woman now, Eddie! I can hold my own! I can buy boots, guilt free, no strings, no blood money!"

"Uh-huh. consider that glass ceiling of having an after school job well and truly," he picks up a lamp from the scarcely populated homewares section, mimes slow-motion smashing it, "shattered!"

"Plus!" you cheerily pivot on your heel, a spring in your step that cannot be unsprung, even by Eddie's welcome to the real world, jackass flavored attempts. "Who would ever dare try and rob me when I've got a big, tough guard doggy like you three feet behind me at all times?"

Eddie's eyes narrow, like he's not all the way peachy keen on how you've pointed out your inseparability. But. He doesn't deny it either. A broken-stringed tennis racket bops you on the head.

"You owe me gas money."

"Shut up, please. I am shopping."

TRACK THREE: BUSTER MOVES

We'll always have the movies.

You sit, glassy-eyed, in your regular seats at the Hawk as The Cook starring Buster Keaton ticks along on the screen ahead of you. This Keaton retrospective, which you had been looking forward to for weeks, which you had been threatening to drag Eddie to for weeks, is going down a little... bland.

Not even that over-the-shoulder gaze that has Keaton beaming lasers of lust right into Virginia Rappe's skull adds any spice. You don't even bring up the whole scandal with her and Fatty Arbuckle, which would ordinarily be fertile territory to plow through with Eddie as a rapt audience.

In fact, you don't even tell him to kick his feet off the seats.

You've zoned out, because you still have the chill of the penitentiary's visiting quarters under your skin. Your dad and his cruelty that the bulletproof glass couldn't dull. The usual escape to the movies bit isn't doing the trick.

Then, you feel shaggy waves tickling your shoulder.

"I can do that."

"What?"

Directly in front of you, Buster is giving it his best Salome, his dance moves all angles. This display of pure deadpan goofiness was what made you obsess over Keaton in the first place, falling head over heels for a man who kicked it long before you were born.

And to your immediate left, you have Eddie Munson in your ear, telling you, "I can do that."

"No you can't," you say, and it doesn't sound like half the challenge it usually would.

Then, in a jolt that makes the whole row of rickety theater seats shake, Eddie's on his feet and stripping off his jacket. And before you can utter some totally perfunctory what're you... he's hot footing it down the steps to the splash zone, the front row, of the screen.

"You know I've seen this movie a million times?" Eddie says, projecting his voice right out like he's performing a one man show. Munson: Meditations on Dumbassery. You sit upright, glancing around to double-triple check that you're definitely alone in the screen. And you are-- Hawkins doesn't have as much a taste for the non-talkies as you do. And you were pretty sure that Eddie didn't either, and yet...

"Are you serious?" you ask, a laugh starting at the back of your throat.

"Does this look like a call and response? Let the maestro work, please," Eddie chides you over his shoulder, turning his back and hopping in place like a boxer about to take the ring.

And then, all of a sudden, he's... dancing? Sort of? Well, he's certainly moving his body, but it's nothing like what Buster's doing, and it's nothing like anyone's ever possibly done and not been hospitalized for, because the way his limbs are moving is borderline inhuman and you are laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing in a way that feels like Eddie reaching right through the fog of your horrible, dissociative feelings and bringing you back into the light.

You toss popcorn at him and he totally fails to catch it in his mouth, his face lit up in shades of black and white by the projection.

"A million times, huh?"

Eddie, breathless, shrugs, "Alright, I lied. But you laughed."

Point to Munson.

TRACK FOUR: LIBERATING MY MAGAZINES

It was a favor that he'd agreed to before you even offered to buy him breakfast after, a favor that didn't need sweetening up. As his van rolled into Loch Nora, Eddie's brows knit a little bit-- and you wondered how much of him regretted saying yes so hastily.

"On a scale of one to felony..."

Your house hadn't been sold yet. Repossessed, sure, but not sold. It stood there, darkened and quiet and gathering dust and the sheer sight of it being the only house on your street with an overgrown lawn made your chest feel tight. You bet the neighbors had something to say about that. You bet the neighbors had a lot to say about you. Curtains were no doubt twitching when you and Eddie pulled up in front of your old driveway.

"It's fine. It's my stuff, anyway."

About a half hour later, Eddie drops a pile of slightly-weather beaten copies of Rolling Stone bearing your name and old address onto a table in the diner, the remnants of your now-cancelled subscription.

"You gotta wonder what they're putting in that new print format that kept those things from totally composting."

"Thank god they didn't! I need to finish that Tom Wolfe serial or I'll die," you declare as he picks up a menu and you rifle through the pile. "Order whatever. It's on me."

Eddie snorts. You're still carting around that dwindling brown bag of cash. "You don't have to do that."

"No," you say, eyes darting around to anywhere but his face, "but I want to. For helping me to liberate my magazines."

"Lace. I'd happily liberate your magazines without the promise of pancakes," his mouth twists into this little grin you can't help but think of as sweet, "but they do help."

"Order enough to keep us here for a while," you say, and pass him a Rolling Stone.

The next while passes silently between you two, passing issues back and forth until one of you picks out something the two of you can fight about. Eddie twists his rings around when he's reading; you gather this from the looks you keep sneaking.

It feels eerily relaxed. Slightly domestic. And by the end, over-caffeinated with the way you two are soundlessly cackling over an imagined world where the cover of Springsteen's Born in the USA isn't an ass shot, but a full-frontal dick shot. "But where does he put the flag?!"

It's one way to kill a Saturday.

SECRET SONG: SWAPPING NOTES

In the relentless waves of the morning crush to get to his next class, he almost misses you-- just like he'd like to almost miss this next class. But then, there you are with freshly-manicured nails digging into his elbow.

For whatever reason, you've taken it upon yourself to make sure that Eddie Munson doesn't skip! At least, where you can help it.

"Yoohoo! Spanish is this way," you say, reorienting him in the right direction in that insistent little way that you do. Eddie's pretty sure that if he sat on you, you'd snap, yet he lets you completely manipulate his clearly superior physical strength anyway.

"We're not in Spanish together!" he tries, a last ditch to get you to turn around so he can ditch.

"No, but French is juste par là so you are pas de chance, my friend!" you tell him with a stare that says I've been tracking your movements like a hunter, dumbass. See my big spear? From that gargantuan folder you're clutching, you dig out a paper. "I have that thing you wanted me to look at."

"Sssshut up, I don't need everyone to know," Eddie flushes. It's not homework he begged to copy from you for once. It is actually this comparative essay that he actually thinks he might not have completely screwed up. But he kind of wanted a professional not-screwer-upper-of-homework's point of view, so... that's why your little red pen marks are all over it.

"Why, whose reputation am I sparing?" He sees your point. You are basically walking arm in arm with him. You. "But, y'know, I was right about you! The thought is there, the execution just needs a little fine tuning."

"So it was..."

"Not amazing! But not awful. I've done my edits and you can just copy as per-- but absorb them, please, okay? Learn something?"

Eddie's head rolls back on his neck with this petulant groan and he almost clocks a freshman at elbow level, shaking his arms in total frustration. God, now you were giving him homework on top of his homework? He should have just paid you to do the homework!

"I hate when you want me to better myself! Shit!"

"Well!" you say, in that bright, adorable, annoyingly-self satisfied way, "I wouldn't do it if I didn't see potential, so suck on that."

[thesithdiaries]

Choose (Rhea Ripley/TJD imagine)

Pairing: Platonic!The Judgement Day x female!reader

Warnings: spoilers for Fastlane 2023 if you haven't watched it, no google translate because spanish is my first language, typical wrestling violence, angst, him or me trope, gaslighting, choking, mentions of bruises and marks, made up women's championship, is finn the villain? probably

Setting: Monday Night Raw after WWE Fastlane 2023

-

The air felt thick in the locker room. At least it felt that way for Y/N.

She finally had a match for the new women's championship. Y/N had worked hard for weeks, training and practicing her moves, and working on her strategy. Rhea had been a huge help for her, as she was the current Raw Women's Champion. The match was against Becky Lynch. Y/N didn't lie to herself, Becky was great at what she did, and beating her was going to be tough.

“JD is going to be on standby to help you,” Finn told Y/N, making her snap out of her thoughts. JD stood there, smiling.

“What? Why?” She replied, confused.

“What do you mean "why”? Nobody will see it coming, because they'll expect Rhea or Dom to go out there with you.”

“Yeah, you could use the surprise to your advantage,” Dom pipped in, softly nudging her arm.

“I could go with you if you want,” Damian suggested, noticing she wasn't liking the initial idea.

“No.” Y/N finally said, standing up from the couch. Everyone looked at her, some shocked and some not surprised.

“Why not?” Both Finn and JD asked at the same time.

“I can do this on my own,” Y/N reminded them, making Finn scoff. “I really don't want anyone there with me. I want to show everyone that I do belong in this group.”

Rhea was quiet, analyzing everything. A slow, burning rage crept up on her for the way they were treating Y/N.

“It's time for my match, I’ll see you guys later.”

When Y/N left and closed the door, Rhea turned to look at the guys. “You heard her. I don't want anyone out there, do you understand? It's what she asked.”

-

The match had gone on for 20 minutes. The crowd was deafening, loving the way Becky and Y/N worked with each other. It was such an important match for both of them.

It had been very back-and-forth, both women showing their incredible skills and determination. Y/N, using a new move, locked Becky into a submission hold. The crowd cheered in anticipation as Becky groaned in pain, her fingers trying to reach the ropes.

Y/N heard boos and turned her head towards the ramp. JD McDonagh was making his way to the side of the ring. He rushed and got to the apron, attempting to help Y/N by distracting the referee. Both he and Y/N set their attention to the guy, not noticing Becky was tapping out.

She released the hold, pissed that JD went against her wishes. As Y/N turned back to Becky, though, she used the distraction in her favor. She quickly did the Manhandle Slam, sending Y/N crashing to the mat. Before going for the pin, Becky kicked JD off the ring.

Y/N sat there motionless as Becky’s theme song was playing. The ringing in her ears was so loud that she couldn't really distinguish if the crowd was cheering or booing. She almost had it, the championship was at the tip of her fingers, and now it was gone.

As the lights dimmed for a commercial break, Y/N pulled herself together and quickly went backstage. The Judgment Day was waiting for her behind the curtain, all of them panting and out of breath.

Y/N walked past them towards the locker room, without even uttering a word.

“Y/N wait,” Dom called out, walking after her. “Please stop walking.”

“I really don't wanna talk right now,” Y/N admitted. Dom grabbed her arm softly, making her stop. “Dom-”

“We didn't know he was going to do it,” Dominik informed her. “He was called for an interview right after you left and then he was out there. We ran but we didn't make it in time. Everything happened too quickly.”

“What's done is done, just leave me alone.”

-

“Damian, come on, let him go,” Finn pleaded.

JD was pressed against the wall, a few inches off the ground, Damien tightly choking him. “This is all your fault. Ya me tienes harto.” (I’m so tired of you.)

“I told you to stay backstage. What part of that didn't you understand?” Rhea barked, pissed off.

“Come on guys, we couldn't have poss-”

“Enough!” Damian interrupted Finn. “You knew he would do it because you told him to. You are both responsible.”

Finn laughed nervously. “No, man, I didn't tell him anything.”

Dom lightly tapped Rhea’s shoulder, pointing at Y/N’s bag still on the table. She was still in the arena. Rhea left to go look for her.

After walking for what felt like hours, she found her on the other side of the arena, sitting on top of an equipment cart. “There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you.” Rhea sat next to her, taking in her appearance. There were bruises and red marks all over her face and body.

Y/N didn't reply, just sat there, hugging her legs. In reality, she wanted to scream and cry, tear everything apart.

“Come on, love, talk to me,” Rhea begged, softly caressing her arm.

“I… asked for one thing tonight, just one… and he couldn't do that for me.”

“I know,” Rhea sighed. “We should've been paying him more attention, but I was sure he wasn't going to do anything.”

“Finn doesn't respect me,” Y/N informed her. “And before you ask why, he always gaslights and belittles me in a joking way, but we all know it's not a joke. He never considers my feelings or what I want. I lost my match, because of him and his friend. They lost their titles at Fastlane because of JD and I’m also sure he did something to the briefcase.”

“Y/N-” Rhea started, but Y/N kept talking.

“If JD McDonagh joins the Judgement Day, I’m out.”

They both stared at each other, Rhea not knowing what to say to that. She would leave? She couldn't leave them… not like that.

“I'm going to our next city, see you next week.”

“Wait, you're not coming to the rest of the shows?” Rhea asked, confused and even more worried.

“No… I need a break,” Y/N admitted. “I'll see you later, tell Damian and Dom I left.”

Rhea stood there, at a loss. Her favorite girl was about to leave a group that has fought so hard to get to the top, all because two idiots didn't care about her enough to listen to a simple request. The anger from before was spilling over. She felt her hands shaking from it. Finn and JD hurt Y/N, now they were going to pay.

[kyleoreillylover]

Chapter 2- The Test

Series Summary/Masterlist

word count: 14,522

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant

warnings: wrestling related violence, manipulation, mentions of cheating.

Chapter Summary: You and Jey are getting a lot closer... and so is your test. You try to focus on making sure everything is going according to plan, but that's hard with Kevin and Sami meddling and having a hard time with being able to let you go, and hurting your loyalty in the process. But Roman and Jey make sure you don't stray too far from the Bloodline, and you make sure that Kevin and Sami know what side you are on.

liked by uceyjucey, sethrollins, y/nfanpage and 500,000 others

wwestan: Y/n spotted at Monday Night Raw Tonight by a fan👀 She hasn't been seen since her lost at Backlash. What do you think she'll have to stir up tonight?

tagged: y/n

view all comments:

user: omg omg mother is back!!

user: face card omg!! ronda tried and failed to stop her face card 😭

user: she looks so good omg??! esp cause apparently Seth and her broke it off 👀 and becky swooped right in 😭

↳user: I mean she said the breakup was mutual and they are still friends🤷‍♀️ but becky getting with Seth so quick is suspicious ngl

↳user: she's way too nice cause if that was me and my friend got with my ex that quick I woulda squared up 😭

user: she better get her lick back from ronda!!

uceyjucey: we missed her ♥️

↳y/n: oh stop it ☺️

↳ uceyjucey: never 😒

↳user: this interaction?? the friendship never knew I needed??

↳user: what's going on here?!!

"Y'know you didn't have to drive me all the way to the arena. I didn't wanna bother you."

"Bother me? How many times I gotta tell you that you can't bother me. You lucky I like you, otherwise the first ten times you apologized for bothering me for nothing I would've stopped picking  you up."

Jey playfully chastised you as he chuckled, flashing a warm grin as you both walked in the hallway, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "Besides, it's not a bother at all. I enjoy your company. Plus, I can't let you miss out on my amazing driving skills, right?"

You rolled your eyes playfully at Jey's teasing remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Mhm, it's definitely your driving skills I can't miss out on, not the heart-stopping fear that comes with them," you teased back, matching your playful tone.

Jey let out a mock offended gasp, nudging your shoulder gently. "Aye, I ain't complaining. I got to have a pretty girl around to keep me company," he said, his voice warm with affection.

"Besides, it's more fun having you around than driving solo. Ever since Jimmy got injured I been riding with Big Uce, but he is boring and doesn't appreciate good music like you do."

You blushed at the compliment, feeling a warmth spread through you at Jey's words. 

The two of you... have been getting close these past few weeks. Ever since he comforted you a few weeks ago and told you he likes having you around, the two of you have been spending more time together, growing closer with each passing day.

He wasn't as hesitant to open up about his thoughts and feelings, and you found yourself enjoying his company more and more. Jey was funny, charming, and caring beneath his tough exterior. Your kind heart was drawn to his genuine personality, and he appreciated your sweet nature and the companionship you offered.

Sometimes he'd make comments like 'You know, you're the only one who can make me smile like this,' or 'I don't think I've laughed this much in ages,' you could tell they weren't just words. There was a sincerity in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.

But you didn't know if he was flirting with you or if he was simply expressing his sincere feelings. Jey had a habit of mixing playful banter with genuine affection, making it hard to decipher where his friendly teasing ended and his true emotions began. Besides, you didn't wanna end a friendship because of a fluke emotion. 

As you both reached the arena hallway, you felt a comfortable ease settle between you. Jey's arm slid from your shoulder as he stopped, facing you with a soft smile. "You want me to grab you a coffee from catering?"

You sighed and crossed your arms at his question. "Do I really look that nervous?"

"Honest answer or answer you wanna hear?" Jey questioned you, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

"I do, don't I?" You groaned and held your face in your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. "It's just been so long since I've been in the arena, and I don't wanna mess up my return to the scene, you know?"

Tonight was the night you would finally show your face to the WWE Universe after your match with Ronda, and you'd be making your return by confronting Becky in the ring and asking her to include you in the 4 woman chamber match for her Raw Women's Championship.

You and Becky were friends… or at least she thought that.

You've been riding with her to various shows, training together, and even spending time outside the ring like going out for dinners or hitting the gym together. She wasn't suspicious in the least about your intentions or why you forgiven her so fast.

She was too blinded at the thought of your friendship ending and was so relieved that you seemed to have moved past the incident and wanted to rekindle your friendship that she didn't think much of your motives. She had her best friend, and the love of her life with her, why would she question your intentions.

And as for Seth, you broke up and you made him believe that it was a mutual decision and that the cheating was a mere misunderstanding or lack of communication. Seth was Seth and took what you said at face value, and was happy that you seemed to have moved on amicably.

Guess he never really knew you at all.

Jey was honestly your saving grace, without him you would pulled your hair from your head from pretending that you were fine and had everything under control.

With every lie you told, Jey would seek out the truth and comfort you when you were on the verge of breaking down.

When the faking would make your tongue tie in knots, Jey would let you call him and pour out your heart to him, happy to help your heart hurt slightly less.

And when the anger would threaten to consume you and mess up the plan, he would remind you that it wasn't worth losing yourself over them, that they weren't worth the trouble.

Jey observed your nerves with a sympathetic gaze, stepping closer to gently lower your hands from your face. "Hey, this ain't the same person that gave Ronda Rousey the literal beating of her life. You remember that? You were fierce, you were strong, and you showed the whole world what you're made of. This ain't no different. You're walking in there to claim what's rightfully yours. Cause that title is yours, and you gotta show em that by showing out."

You let Jey's words soothe your nerves and make you feel at least a bit better. He was right. You should be on top of the world right now. You were about to make a statement and demand what you deserved. Becky should be the one nervous right now. But the nerves still tugged at your confidence, making you doubt your resolve.

With a deep breath, you straightened up, trying to gather your resolve before your promo. "I'll take that coffee, actually. It'll give me a little boost before I go out there."

Jey's smile widened, pleased to see you regaining some confidence. "Gotcha. You sit tight pretty girl, I'll grab it for you." Jey left before you could even think about the nickname he just used for you. Whether he chose that moment on purpose to call you that so he could slip away or accidentally did so, you didn't know. What you did know was that you had to get your head in the game before you were up there.

Running your lines through your head, a tap on your shoulder jolted you from your thoughts. Expecting it to be Jey, you stopped short, ready to thank him for the coffee, but when you turned around, it was Sami. Your smile dropped as soon as you saw his face.

"Sami." You greeted him with a polite nod, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the discomfort his sudden appearance brought. "What do you want?"

"What, I can't say hi to my best friend I haven't seen in a while?" Sami countered, a sad expression clouding his features. He adjusted his jacket, trying to appear nonchalant, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made you want to run into his arms and find comfort, yet you knew it was too late for that.

"We both know that's not what this is about," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rush of emotions his presence stirred within you. "I made myself clear, Sami. We can't keep pretending things are the same between us."

"I just miss you, okay? I miss our friendship," Sami admitted, his voice tinged with desperation. "Can't we just talk? I miss talking to you, hanging out like we used to. I just miss you."

Damn Sami and his ability to tug at your emotions, you thought, feeling a pang of guilt and sorrow at his words. You sighed softly, feeling guilt and frustration.

Sami was a good guy, but you needed to focus on your own path right now, and you couldn't do that with someone from your past pulling you in different directions.

You knew with him came Kevin, and unfortunately for Sami, it was something you couldn't afford to get involved in. You took a step back, composing yourself and trying to maintain a sense of firmness in your voice.

"Sami, I've moved on," you stated, your tone gentle but resolute. "I need to focus on my career right now, and things have changed. You know that," you replied, your voice softening slightly despite your resolve. "I can't go back to how things were before."

Sami's expression turned crestfallen, and you could see the hurt in his eyes. "You can't go back to how it was, or you are too scared to?" Sami's voice cracked slightly, his eyes pleading for a different response. "Look, I'm sorry for how that night went. I should've focused on comforting you instead of feeding into what Kevin wanted. But you can't just hold that against me forever."

You sighed, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Sami's words were a reminder of a painful past, but you knew deep down that you couldn't let yourself be swayed by his guilt or the emotions tied to their history.

But it was really hard when he was looking at you like you were the only person who could save him from drowning and was standing so close to you that it felt like all the old memories were rushing back. And some memories were making you feel hot inside.

"It's not about holding things against you forever, Sami," you began, your voice tinged with forced calmness. "It's about moving forward. I can't keep dwelling on what happened. I need to focus on my career, on myself."

Sami looked down for a moment, his hands clasping together in a mix of frustration and resignation. "So, that's it? You're just going to shut me out completely?"

His voice cracked with emotion, and you could see the struggle he was facing to keep his composure. "You think that shutting me out is gonna make me forget about everything we had? You were my best friend, my confidant. You can't just erase that. And I know you. I know that you're hurting too, but pushing me away isn't gonna make it any better."

"I'm not hurting." You retorted, but Sami 's gaze bore into yours, seeing through the facade you tried to maintain. You felt the weight of his words, the echoes of the past pulling at your heartstrings.

"You are, and you know it," Sami rebutted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I see it in your eyes, in the way you try so hard to act like everything's fine. But it's not fine, and you shutting me out isn't going to change what happened between us. You can't lie to me about your feelings."

He took a step closer, and his body heat was driving you mad as he closed the gap between you, your faces inches apart and  his voice lowering to a pleading whisper. "You know you can't."

The tension between the two of you was so strong that you could barely catch your breath. Sami was staring at you like you were the answer to all his problems, his eyes searching yours for some sign of hope or reconciliation, and you knew that if you let him keep talking to you, that if you kept looking into his baby brown eyes that this conversation would only get more complicated.

You needed to pull away, to distance yourself before everything crumbled around you. But Sami's presence, his proximity, made it nearly impossible to think straight.

"Sami, please..." You whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to maintain your resolve.

“Don’t lie to me...” He whispered back just as softly, his gaze was unwavering, his eyes pleading and filled with a vulnerability that tore at your heart and made your body heat up…

"Aye, Y/n, I gotcha coffee!"

Before either of you could say another word, Jey's voice interrupted the moment. Jey appeared, holding a cup of coffee, and the smile he had walking up to you dropped and his  expression turned guarded as he assessed the scene before him. His eyes flickered between you and Sami, sensing the tension thick in the air.

"What's going on here?" Jey paused, looking between the two of you, his tone carrying a hint of protectiveness and anger.

You quickly took a step back, trying to regain your composure, feeling flustered by Jey's sudden arrival. "Nothing, Jey. Just catching up, that's all," you replied, trying to sound casual, but the unease lingered in your voice.

Sami cleared his throat, adjusting his jacket once more, attempting to mask the discomfort that had crept into his expression.

"Yeah, just a little chat. But I'll let you guys catch up." He offered a forced smile before nodding curtly at Jey and then turning his gaze back to you. "Think about what I said, okay?

You glared at Sami for the last sentence he uttered, a mix of irritation and vulnerability bubbling up within you. "I will," you replied curtly, your voice tinged with a hint of finality, before turning your attention back to Jey as Sami left the two of you alone. 

Jey's demeanor softened slightly as he handed you the coffee, concern etched in his features. "Everything alright, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice low and filled with a protective edge.

You forced a smile, trying to dispel the tension that lingered in the air. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just catching up with an old friend, you know?" you replied, hoping your attempt at casualness would reassure Jey.

Jey's thoughts flickered between you and Sami once more, his expression unreadable for a moment. “You’d tell me if he was getting in your face, right?”

You nodded, sipping the coffee to compose yourself. "Of course, Jey. You know I would."

“And you would tell me if something serious was up?" Jey persisted, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

You paused for a moment, considering his question before responding. “Of course.”

“Then tell me why he was talking to you like that.” Jey's voice was calm, yet there was an edge to it as he gestured vaguely in Sami's direction.

You hesitated, not wanting to dive into the complexity of the situation. "It's nothing, Jey. Just an old friend wanting to catch up. Sami just wanted to say hi to me. That's all." You attempted to downplay the encounter, hoping to move past the moment swiftly.

But what you failed to realize was that Jey has been reading your body language for the past few weeks and could tell when something was truly bothering you.

His expression remained guarded, and there was a protective undertone in his voice as he probed further. “Then why you looking at me like you're trying to convince yourself it's nothing when it clearly is?"

Jey's keen observation left you momentarily speechless. You glanced down for a moment, collecting your thoughts, before meeting his gaze once more. “He just… was trying to talk to me about the past. You know how it is, sometimes old friends can bring back memories you'd rather leave behind," you explained vaguely, hoping Jey would drop the subject.

Jey's expression softened slightly as he studied you, but the guarded look was replaced with a painful look in his eyes, as if your words were cutting deeper than he'd expected and made him resist memories he'd rather leave behind as well.

"I get that." He responded cryptically before letting out a small sigh. Was there a hint of jealousy in his tone? Or was it just concern and protectiveness for your well-being? 

 It was hard to decipher. "Just... be careful, a'ight? I don't wanna see you getting hurt."

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and discomfort at Jey's protectiveness. "Thanks, Jey. I'll be careful, I promise."

He offered a small, reassuring smile before a techie walked up to the two of you. "Y/N, it's almost time for your segment," the techie interrupted, noticing your presence.

You nodded in acknowledgment and turned to Jey, holding the coffee cup. "I gotta go. Wish me luck?"

Jey's warm smile returned, and he nodded. "You don't need luck, pretty girl. You got this. Go out there and show 'em what you're made of."

You hesitated for a moment before pulling Jey into a quick hug, feeling a surge of gratitude for his support. "Thank you, Jey. For everything," you whispered before pulling back, flashing a quick smile, and heading towards the entrance to the stage.

Jey felt like his head was spinning with a whirlwind of emotions as he watched you walk away. He stood there for a moment, trying to shake off the unease that had settled within him, a feeling he couldn't quite place.

Part of him was happy to finally have a friend that he could trust, but another part of him was grappling with his own emotions, ones he hadn't fully acknowledged or understood, making his thoughts spin wildly in his mind.

Could he really trust you? Could he trust his own feelings for you? The way you and Sami interacted had stirred something within him, something he couldn't quite articulate or comprehend.

"Jey, the Tribal Chief has been looking for you." Paul Heyman's voice cut through his thoughts, interrupting his contemplation. "Are you okay, Jey?" Paul furrowed his eyebrows at Jey's skittish demeanor.

Jey straightened up, refocusing his attention. "Yeah, I'm good, uce. What he want?"

Paul Heyman eyed Jey for a moment, sensing something amiss, but decided not to pry further. "He wanted to discuss the plan. He's waiting in his office."

"Alright, I'm on my way," Jey replied, shaking off the lingering thoughts as he headed towards Roman Reigns' office, trying to push aside the unsettling feelings that had surfaced during his encounter with you and Sami.

Maybe he would test that trust tonight.

“Becky, Becky, Becky.”

Becky looked up from the ring in shock at your voice and music interrupting her. You came out with a confident stride and cryptic smile, a mic in hand and your hair seamlessly cascading over your shoulders.

The arena erupted in cheers, the anticipation palpable as you made your entrance, the spotlight now firmly on you. You were dearly missed by the crowd, and they showed it by cheering for you so loud your ears hurt. 

"Surprise, surprise! Look who's back!" you exclaimed, your voice cutting through the arena with a blend of confidence and determination.

Becky's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of disbelief and a slight tinge of apprehension as she stared at you, mic in hand. She hadn't expected your return tonight, especially not in this manner.

You circled the ring, eyeing Becky with a steely resolve and a sweet smile. “Hi bestie! It's good to see you!" You tilted your head slightly, the sweetness in your voice carrying a hint of underlying tension.

Becky narrowed her eyes, a flicker of suspicion crossing her features as she held the mic up to respond, but was happy to see you nonetheless. "Lass, it's good to see you! Welcome back, we've missed you!" Becky responded with a mixture of surprise and genuine warmth, trying to maintain a composed front despite your unexpected appearance. 

 You chuckled softly, the cryptic smile still playing on your lips as you paced around the ring, taking in the crowd's reaction. "I missed you too. And look at you know. The Raw Women's Champion,  dominating the scene like you always do."

Your words dripped with a mix of admiration and something else, something Becky couldn't quite place. "And don't get me wrong, I'm proud of you! But I've been watching you dominate, watching you stand at the top, and I can't help but wonder… where do I fit in this picture?"

Becky's brow furrowed slightly, a perplexed expression crossing her features as she regarded you with curiosity. "What do you mean, where do you fit? You know you're always welcome here, Y/n."

The crowd buzzed with anticipation, sensing the tension between you and Becky. You walked into the ring, that sweet smile still on your lips. "I know Becky! And as your best friend, I want to stand by your side. I want to be cheering you on, but I also want to prove myself, show everyone what I'm capable of, and prove that I belong in the ring with the best of the best."

Becky's expression shifted from confusion to a mix of skepticism and concern, as she sensed an underlying motive in your words. "I get that, but what are you talking about? You've proven yourself time and time again."

You chuckled softly, the sweetness in your voice never wavering. "I haven't been given the chance to prove myself lately, have I though?" our tone shifted slightly, carrying a hint of determination. "I've been so close to getting to the top, but something always gets in my way. Something always stops me. But you know what Becky? I'm sick of being stopped. And you're my best friend, right You know me better than anyone, right?"

Becky paused for a moment, sensing the shift in your tone and the gravity behind your words. She nodded slowly, happiness and wariness creeping into her expression. Happiness because she finally had her best friend back. Wariness because she could sense an undertone in your words that seemed to hint at something beyond a simple desire to compete. She held the mic closer, ready to respond, but you continued, your voice now carrying a determined edge.

 "So, Becky, I'm asking you now, as your friend and as a competitor... as someone who knows what it's like to get what you wanted for so long and have it taken away from you. Put me in the 4 woman chamber match for the Raw Women's Championship."

Becky's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of apprehension and disbelief at your challenge. You stood across from her with a determined gaze, the crowd cheering at your words. Becky's eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of concern and confusion evident in her expression as she processed your request.

You would never try to sabotage her right? This wasn't you trying to hurt her, this was just you expressing your desire to compete at the highest level, and wanting to not blindside her. You were her best friend, so sweet and caring.

She shook her head. Of course you wouldn't try to sabotage her. This had to be about proving yourself. 

"Y/N, I know you want nothing more than to get to the top. But to do that you have to step to the Man, and if you want to step to the man you have to be prepared to go through hell. You want your shot?" Becky stepped closer to you, her expression serious yet tinged with a hint of concern.

"You got it. But remember, that chamber is unforgiving and so am I." How ironic, considering she was the one that incurred your wrath. "Be prepared for the Chamber, cause it's going to be a battle. You want in? You're in. You wanna prove yourself? Prove it."

You smiled at Becky's response, a mix of gratitude and determination coloring your features. The crowd erupted into cheers, sensing the intensity building between the two of you. You got what you wanted, but you'd get what you needed soon enough.

"Trust me, I'm gonna make sure everyone knows what I'm made of," you replied, your tone carrying a confident edge as you held the mic up. "And I'll prove that I belong in that ring, alongside the best, which is you."

Becky nodded,  a faint smile playing on her lips. "I have no doubt about that, Y/n. See you at the Chamber." Becky held her mic up, signaling the end of the confrontation, and made her exit from the ring, leaving you to bask in the cheers and excitement of the audience.

The camera caught the sly smile on your face as you watched Becky leave, a victorious glint in your eyes that widened when you saw Becky turn around and get blindsided by Shayna Baszler and Natalya, who struck the champion down and initiated a brutal assault on Becky, leaving her lying in the middle of the ring.

You quickly dropped your mic on the ground and went to the aid of Becky, swinging at Natalya and Shayna, attempting to fend them off and help Becky. The ring erupted into chaos as Becky recovered and helped you gain the upper hand.

Shayna tried to lock in the Kirfuda Clutch on Becky, but you threw Natalya into her and super kicked Shayna, creating an opportunity for Becky to hit Shayna with the Manhandle Slam, knocking her out cold. The audience roared in excitement as the chaos unfolded in the ring as officials guided Natalya and Shayna out of the ring. 

You stood tall, breathing heavily but the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Becky was panting as she sat on the canvas, looking on and smirking at Shayna and Natalya who were yelling at the two of you before turning towards you, who was holding her dropped title in your hands with a satisfied smirk.

You sensed her gaze and looked at the title once more- as if claiming it already- before locking eyes with her and handing it over to her with a sweet smile. 

"Champ." You handed her the title with a respectful nod, a glint of determination shining in your eyes. The crowd erupted into cheers at the display of sportsmanship between you and Becky.

You extended your hand to help Becky up, and she took it, getting back to her feet with your support. The two of you shared a brief nod of mutual respect before Becky raised the title high, you standing by her side, sharing a smile with her as the the arena roared with excitement.

This was too easy. 

“You did good.” Roman complimented you from across the table, his arms crossed as he observed you. His gaze was inscrutable, his eyes examining you with a sense of curiosity that made you slightly uncomfortable. Paul stood behind Roman as always, his face stoic yet knowing at the same time.

"Thanks, Roman," you replied, feeling a mix of relief and tension at his compliment. You shifted slightly in your seat, trying to read Roman's expression but finding it difficult to decipher his thoughts.

"You were assertive out there. Got what you wanted," Roman continued, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place. “She trusts you. She thinks that you’re just looking to prove yourself and to have a fair shot. She doesn't see what's coming."

Roman leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Paul booked you a match with Becky against Shayna and Natalya, and I want you to be ready to show everyone a glimpse of what you are capable of. You've got the opportunity, now make the most of it."

You nodded, trying to mask the unease that had settled within you at Roman's words. His demeanor was calm, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made you feel like he knew more than he let on. You pushed aside the unease, focusing on the task at hand. "I'll be ready, Roman. I won't disappoint."

Roman  studied you for a moment before nodding approvingly. "Good. Remember, everything you are doing for this family. All the heartache you are experiencing  is  for the grater good, for our legacy, and will be worth it when you are holding up that championship at the end of it all." Roman's words were cryptic yet carried a sense of assurance that made you feel a bit more secure in your actions.

Paul Heyman chimed in, his tone carrying a sense of pride yet wary all the same. "Y/N,  the Bloodline is built on strength and loyalty" Paul moved from behind Roman and leaned forward slightly, emphasizing his words with a knowing look. "Are you loyal to the family?" 

His tone confused you, it seemed like there was more to his question than a simple inquiry about loyalty.

You met Paul's gaze, feeling a slight sense of apprehension at the weight behind his question. "Of course, Paul. I'm loyal to the family." you replied, trying to maintain a composed front despite the uncertainty swirling within you. "I always will be."

"Then why were we informed that you were speaking with a certain individual earlier?" Paul's voice dropped slightly, his eyes narrowing as he watched your reaction carefully. "Do we have a reason to worry about your loyalty?"

Your heart sank at Paul's question, realizing he was referring to the encounter with Sami earlier. Jey must've told him. You quickly tried to gather your thoughts, knowing that the wrong words could create a rift with the Bloodline. "It was nothing, Paul. Just an old friend wanting to catch up. Nothing more," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

Roman's expression remained stoic, his gaze unwavering as he assessed your response. "We don't need any distractions, especially not from someone who's not a part of this family." His words were firm, a hint of warning in his tone. "Sami is outside of our circle. He's not someone you need to be associating with."

Your brain and heart were at war with each other, torn between your allegiance to the Bloodline and your personal connections outside of it. You knew Roman's expectations of maintaining loyalty, but your bond with Sami and emotions made it hard to completely sever those ties. Yet, you were also aware of the consequences of going against Roman's wishes.

""I understand, Roman. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," you replied, your voice resolute yet tinged with a sense of conflict. Unlike with Kevin, Sami represented a more complex situation, a friendship you weren't ready to completely let go of. But you knew you needed to appease to Roman in order to maintain your place within the Bloodline. And if Roman said to cut ties with Sami, you had to comply.

Roman regarded you for a moment longer, his gaze holding yours so intensely that it felt like he was seeing right through you. "I know you're new to how we operate, but we do not entertain distractions or associations that could compromise us," Roman stated firmly, his tone carrying a finality that left no room for argument.

"We're a family, and loyalty to the family comes above all else. I already gave you a pass the last time, but this time, there won't be another warning. As of today, no more hanging out in the ladies locker room, you will be in the Bloodline's locker room. No more interacting with outsiders, especially ones that can bring unwanted attention or complications. Jey will be watching over you to make sure you're following through with this. No more rooming with Becky or anyone else outside of the family. Do I make myself clear?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Roman's words and your heart hurting. You thought Jey trusted you, but it seemed like that was not the case. This was the line in the sand, a directive that required unwavering compliance. "Crystal clear, Roman. I'll make the necessary changes."

You glanced over at Paul Heyman, hoping for some leniency or understanding, but his expression remained impassive, his eyes fixed on you as if waiting for any sign of defiance.

Roman nodded once, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer before he leaned back in his chair, signaling the end of the conversation. "Good. Make sure you follow through. This family doesn't tolerate distractions. Do you want to room with me or Jey? Those are your only options."

You felt a mix of emotions swirling within you - disappointment, confusion, and a tinge of resentment. You knew aligning with the Bloodline came with its rules and expectations, but you didn't think that it would demand cutting off connections completely. But you knew that you had to comply if you wanted to remain within the Bloodline's circle.

"Jey will be fine, thank you," you replied, your voice steady, though there was a hint of sadness behind your words. "I'll make sure to comply with the family's wishes."

Roman nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. We need everyone focused and aligned." With that, he stood up, signaling the end of the conversation. You rose from your seat, a sense of disappointment weighing heavy on your chest. ou couldn't help but feel torn between your loyalty to the Bloodline and the connections you'd built outside of it.

Jey was waiting outside, a concerned look on his face as he observed you leaving the meeting room. He immediately stepped forward as you approached, his gaze searching yours for any sign of distress. "Aye, you good? You look tense as hell."

You shot him a glare that made him shift slightly, sensing your frustration. "Jey, I'm fine," you replied, your tone curt as you tried to mask your emotions. "Let's just go to the locker room."

Jey's expression softened with concern, but he didn't press further, respecting your need for space. He nodded, falling into step beside you as you headed towards the Bloodline's locker room, a sense of unease and conflict gnawing at him.

"Are you sure you good?" Jey asked when you guys made it to the locker room, as if he wasn't the reason for your anger.

He opened the door for you, but you barely acknowledged his existence as you ducked under his arm and entered the room, getting your gear and walking past him to go to the bathroom, slamming the door shut hard. 

Ouch. 

"Are you sure you good? You actin' real distant." Jey said, his voice concerned as the two of you walked to your hotel room.

The match went well, at least by Jey's standards. Everyone noticed you were more vicious than ever. Your kicks were more violent, your strikes harder, and your demeanor in the ring was more intense than usual. Jey noticed, as did your opponents.  It was clear that you were channeling your frustrations and emotions into your performance.

You got the win on Natalya, making her tap out while Becky hit the manhandle slam on Shayna to help seal the victory. The win was satisfying, and the crowd's reaction was electric, but the tension from earlier still lingered within you.

"I said I'm fine, Jey." You mumbled to yourself, your voice barely audible as you kept walking ahead, your steps quick and determined.

Jey let out a frustrated sigh, trailing behind you, his concern evident in the way he glanced at you every few steps. "Look, I ain't know what Roman said, but you don't gotta take it out on me. I just want to make sure you're okay. You know I got your back, right?"

 "Do you, Jey? Because it sure doesn't feel like it." You walked ahead of him, trying to avoid looking into his eyes. The frustration and hurt within you were like a simmering pot threatening to boil over, and Jey trying to reach out only added to your inner turmoil.

Jey's steps faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion and hurt at your response. He tried to get you to look at him, but you kept your gaze fixed ahead, your jaw clenched tightly. "What's going on, Y/N? Talk to me. I thought we were cool."

You scoffed as you pulled out your keycard, unlocking the door to your shared hotel room and pushing it open, not bothering to wait for Jey. "I thought we were too." You tried to grab your luggage, but Jey beat you to it, swiftly grabbing your bags before you could.

"Talk to me, Y/N," Jey pleaded, his voice tinged with concern and confusion as he followed you into the room. He gently placed the bags down by the bed and turned to face you, his expression a mix of worry and frustration.

"There's nothing to talk about." You couldn't help but feel a tinge of something as you saw Jey as frustrated as ever, still be a gentleman. Why did he have to be so persistent? Your mind screamed. "I said I'm fine, Jey. Just drop it."

Jey's frustration was evident as he ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly in the room. "You clearly ain't alright, and I ain't just gonna stand here watchin' you drown in whatever's goin' on in that head of yours." Jey's voice was tinged with a mix of concern and exasperation, his eyes locked on you as if trying to break through the emotional barrier you'd put up.

"Then you only have yourself to blame that for whatever this is." You shot back, your tone laced with frustration and hurt. The floodgates threatened to burst open, but you fought hard to keep your emotions in check.

Jey's expression softened, his frustration giving way to a genuine concern. "I don't understand what I did, Y/N. I'm just trying to help."

"You seriously thought I wouldn't find out you told Roman about Sami?" You paused, the words hanging in the air, the weight of the accusation heavy between you and Jey. The silence that followed felt suffocating, tension crackling in the air like electricity.

Jey's eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly agape as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I didn't... Y/N, I didn't mean for it to--"

"Save it, Jey." You cut him off, the hurt in your voice palpable. "I trusted you, and you went and told Roman about Sami, didn't you?"

Jey took a step closer, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "Y/N, I was just--"

"Just what?" You interrupted, your frustration boiling over. "Trying to prove your loyalty to Roman? You threw me under the bus without even talking to me about it!"

"I wasn't tryna prove nothing!" Jey shot back, his tone defensive. "I saw you getting distracted by him, and I couldn't let you get in your head so close to such an important match. I didn't want Roman to think you were goin' against the family."

“Well now he thinks I'm not completely aligned with the family, thanks to you!" You retorted, the anger and betrayl seeping into your voice. “Now I have to have a protector hovering over me at all hours of the day which newsflash- is you! So have fun being my babysitter!"

Jey's expression shifted from shock to regret as he took in the impact of his actions on you. "I was just tryna look out for you, Y/N. I didn't mean to mess things up."

"Well, congratulations, you did." You turned away from Jey, trying to hide the hurt and frustration welling up within you. Jey tried to reach out for you, but you evaded his touch, moving to the other side of the room. You grabbed your night bag, slinging it over your shoulder and making your way to the bathroom. “

“I’m gonna shower, and I expect you to just be quiet and not talk to me when I come out.” 

Jey's shoulders slumped in defeat as he watched you leave the room, his expression a mix of regret and sorrow. He sank down onto the bed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the rift he had created between the two of you.

He let his stupid jealousy run him to Roman and craete this mess in the first place. God, why did Jey have to be such a hothead? He honestly didn’t have a good reason for his actions. All he knew was that when he saw you and Sami interact, all he felt was red hot jealousy, anger and fear that you might be swayed away from the Bloodline's loyalty. Jey's instinct was to stop anything and anyone from making your alliance sway, even if it meant crossing lines. But now he realized that his impulse reaction was very stupid. 

He sighed again and reached out for his phone to scroll through twitter and distract himself from everything until you came out. He plopped down on the bed again and went scrolling before he sat up in a panic and looked around, realizing what you and him both missed when you walked in the room while you were arguing. 

There was only one bed.

You came out of the bathroom with a fresh face and fresh pajamas, your hair wrapped in a bonnet and towel slung over your shoulder. Your eyes avoided Jey as you made your way to the bed, trying to ignore the tension that hung heavily in the air.

He looked handsome even in his frustration, scrolling through his phone. You were both too stubborn to acknowledge the awkwardness of the situation that you realized when you came out and saw him laying down on only one bed.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the silence. “There’s some food from catering that the staff left in the fridge if you get hungry.” Even if you were mad at him, you couldn't deny the urge to look out for him, especially after a tense confrontation. “Uh, I’ll take the couch, you get comfy there. Good night.”

Jey looked up at that, his eyebrows furrowed at your words. You really thought he’d let you sleep on the couch after everything that had just happened? His heart ached at the thought of you feeling uncomfortable or hurt. "Nah, I’ll take the couch, Y/N. You take the bed. I messed up, and I should be the one to make things right," Jey offered, his voice soft and apologetic.

You shook your head, your resolve unwavering despite the inner turmoil. “I’d rather take the couch, Jey. It’s fine. I need some space anyway.”

Jey glared at you, his tone firm yet pleading. "Stop being so damn stubborn, Y/N. You don't need to take the couch because of me. I’ll sleep on the couch, and that's final."

The tension in the room was palpable, the unresolved emotions lingering between you both. You stood your ground, not wanting to relent despite the ache in your heart. "Jey, I said I'll take the couch. End of discussion."

Jey was just as stubborn, and glared at you again and again. "Y/N, I’m not letting you sleep on a couch because of my stupid mistake. You’re taking the bed."

Your frustration peaked, and you threw your hands up in exasperation. "Why can't you just listen for once? I don't want to argue about this, Jey. Just take the bed and let me have the couch. It's not that big of a deal."

“Y’know what? This bed is big enough for both of us. You gon have to learn how to share.” Jey stood up, determined, and walked towards the bed, pulling back the covers on one side, leaving the other side for you.

You stared at him, caught off guard by his insistence. The conflicting emotions within you raged as you met his gaze. “Jey, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can just—”

“You not sleeping on the couch. You gon get in these covers, sleep right next to me, and that’s final.” Jey’s assertive voice was firm, and it made you feel even hotter all over when he patted the bed, signaling for you to join him. The air between you crackled with tension, your thoughts racing a mile a minute as your eyes flitted between Jey and the bed. 

The intensity in Jey's gaze made you feel both conflicted and flustered. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions within you.

“Fine. But you stay on your side of the bed,” you finally relented, moving towards the bed but keeping a noticeable distance between you and Jey. Slipping under the covers, you positioned yourself as far away from him as possible without falling off the bed, your back facing him.

Jey sighed, feeling a mix of relief and regret. He sighed again when he turned around and saw you grabbing pillows and positioning them as a barrier between the two of you.

“Do you really gotta do that?" Jey's voice was soft, filled with a tinge of disappointment. He shifted slightly closer, his hand reaching out to gently move the pillows away from between you two.

You stiffened at his touch, but didn't resist as he adjusted the pillows. "Yes, I do," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The proximity between you and Jey made your heart race, and you found it difficult to relax despite your exhaustion.

Jey's touch lingered for a moment longer before he withdrew his hand, respecting your boundaries. He settled into his side of the bed, leaving a respectable distance between you both. The air was thick with unresolved tension, and the silence felt deafening.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Jey murmured softly, his voice carrying a sense of regret and longing.

"Night, Jey," you responded quietly, the weight of the evening's events weighing heavily on your mind as you closed your eyes, trying to find solace in the darkness of the room. Sleep, however, remained elusive as you grappled with conflicting emotions, the events of the night replaying in your mind.

Jey fell asleep rather quick, but you tossed and turned, unable to shake off the lingering turmoil within you. Despite the exhaustion, sleep seemed to evade you entirely.  You didn’t know how long you were turning, but you yelped when Jey’s arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him, nestling his face in the crook of your neck.

"Jey, what are you doing?" you whispered, your heart racing at the sudden intimacy, a mixture of surprise and confusion flooding your mind.

Jey stirred slightly but didn't let go. "Shh, just relax. It’s 2 in the morning, and you still ain’t sleeping. You need to rest." Jey's voice was gentle, his breath warm against your skin as he held you close, his embrace surprisingly comforting despite the initial shock.

You were caught off guard by the unexpected gesture, your mind racing as conflicting emotions surged within you. His touch was warm and soothing, and you found yourself melting into the embrace, despite the inner turmoil. Part of you wanted to push him away, to maintain the boundaries you had set, but another part yearned for the comfort he offered.

"Jey, we can't—" you started, your voice wavering, but he tightened his hold, his breath tickling your neck as he whispered.

"Just for tonight, Y/N. Let yourself rest," Jey murmured, his words laced with a tenderness that touched your heart. His embrace felt safe, and against your better judgment, you allowed yourself to relax in his arms, the weariness finally taking over as you drifted into a much-needed sleep.

 Jey tightened his grip around you protectively, holding you close as both of you eventually drifted off into a peaceful slumber, the weight of the day's events momentarily fading away.

You were the first to wake up in the morning, the sun peeking through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Disoriented, you blinked a few times, trying to recall the events of the previous night. Memories flooded back, and you felt a pang of guilt mixed with confusion and a lingering sense of comfort from Jey's embrace.

Jey was still asleep, his arm draped over you protectively. His face was serene in slumber, and you couldn't help but notice the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed softly.

 Despite the initial discomfort and the tension between you two, the way he held you close had been surprisingly comforting. 

And you couldn’t deny that he looked good like that, his features softened in sleep, his usually intense gaze replaced by a peaceful expression. His handsome features were more pronounced in the morning light, and you found yourself watching him for a moment, feeling conflicted yet oddly at ease in his presence. You didn’t know if you wanted to stay in his embrace or create some distance.

Jey made that decision for you, tugging you closer in his sleep, nuzzling into your neck with a contented sigh. His hold tightened instinctively, as if he sensed your hesitancy and sought to reassure you even in his slumber.

Despite knowing better- you sighed and relaxed into his arms, his warm weight making you feel surprisingly safe and at peace. You brought your hands to his hair, hesitantly running your fingers through it, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips when he nuzzled closer to you and his arms wrapped around you a bit tighter in response to your touch. 

Just when you got comfortable, your phone buzzed. You tried to ignore it, but the persistent vibration urged you to check the notification. Glancing over Jey's sleeping form, you carefully maneuvered to reach your phone on the bedside table without disturbing him. 

“I know we’re at the same hotel, so delete the excuses I know you are about to give me. Meet me for breakfast in the lobby. I’ll try not to fight this time.”

You sighed, already knowing who it was. You knew you should just ignore what he said and tell him to shove it up his ass, but you couldn't bring yourself to completely cut off the person reaching out to you. Despite what you have said to him, he still held a place in your heart dear to you. 

Before you could respond, Jey started to stir, his eyes fluttering open as he became aware of the warmth beside him. You turned off your phone, and his gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, there was a sense of understanding and unspoken emotions exchanged between you.

"Morning," Jey murmured, his voice husky with sleep, his hold on you loosening slightly as he shifted to look at you.

"Morning," you replied softly, a hint of uncertainty in your voice, unsure of how to navigate the newfound intimacy between you two after the events of the previous night.

Jey offered a small, sheepish smile, his gaze lingering on you. "Didn't expect to wake up like this."

You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Me neither. I guess the bed isn't as big as we thought."

The tension seemed to dissipate gradually as Jey's smile widened. "Guess not." He hesitated for a moment before continuing, his tone more serious. "About last night... I'm sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have gone to Roman about Sami. I messed up."

You sighed, feeling the weight of his apology. "Yeah, you did. But it's in the past now, Jey.”

Jey shook his head, a hint of regret in his eyes. “Nah, it ain’t in the past, not until you forgive me. I messed up, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve talked to you first instead of acting on impulse.”

You looked at Jey, his sincerity evident in his eyes. Part of you wanted to hold onto the anger and hurt, but another part understood his actions came from a place of concern, even if it was misguided. “It hurt, Jey. I understand you were trying to look out for me in your own way. But if you do something like that again, it will be the last time. If you feel like something up, then talk to me first, okay?”

Jey nodded earnestly, a sense of relief washing over his features at your words. "I promise, Y/N. I won't make that mistake again. I'll talk to you first, no matter what." He reached out, tentatively placing a hand on your arm, seeking reassurance in your touch.

You glanced down at his hand on your arm, feeling a mix of emotions at the gesture. “Good, othwerise I’ma have to kick you out the bed next time.”  You offered a teasing smile, trying to ease the tension between you two.

Jey chuckled, relieved at the hint of humor in your words. “You weren’t complaining last night when I was the big spoon,” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension dissipating further at Jey's lighthearted comment. "Well, maybe I needed a little extra warmth," you teased back, a playful smirk on your face.

Jey grinned, feeling a sense of relief at the more relaxed atmosphere between you two. "Guess I'll have to keep you warm more often then," he quipped, a smirk playing on his lips.

The banter between you two felt oddly comforting, and you found yourself relaxing further into the conversation. "We'll see about that," you replied, a playful glint in your eye as you bantered back and forth.

Jey smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression as he looked at you. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here, Y/N. I got jealous cause… you so ama zing, and I didn't want anyone else to take you away from the family. I just need to make sure you're safe."

Jey's confession made your heart flutter a little, a hint of vulnerability shining through his words. His soft voice and even softer touch, his apologetic tone, all made your resolve waver. You looked at Jey, seeing a side of him that you hadn't fully acknowledged before.

And it made you like him even more.

“Jey, there’s no reason for you to be jealous. I am here with you because of my own choice. You're part of why I'm here. I get it, you were looking out for me. But it's a two-way street. I need you to trust me too, okay?" You placed your hand on top of his, offering a reassuring squeeze.

Jey looked down at your hand atop his, trying to will away the blush that threatened to creep up on his cheeks. "I trust you, Y/N. I promise, I do," he replied sincerely, his gaze meeting yours with a sense of earnestness.

You smiled softly, feeling heat flutter in your chest at his words. "Good. We're on the same page then." You squeezed his hand again before withdrawing your touch, feeling a sense of warmth and understanding settling between you two.

Jey nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he looked at you. "Yeah, we are."

You smiled back at him just as warmly before glancing at the clock on the bedside table. “Guess its time for breakfast?”

You giggled when Jey groaned and in one swift movement, he pulled you back into his arms, burying his face in your neck again. "Can't we just stay here a little longer?" Jey murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of reluctance.

You chuckled at his reluctance, feeling a sense of comfort in his embrace. "Okay then, how about I go get us breakfast, and you sit your cute ass here and go to sleep till I get back?" you teased, poking fun at Jey's sudden attachment to the bed and to you.

Jey laughed softly, the sound rumbling against your neck. "Deal. But you better bring me something good, pretty girl." he replied playfully, his heart aching at your nickname for him and his arms tightening around you momentarily before he released you.

You slipped out of his embrace, feeling a strange sense of warmth from the shared moment. "I'll see what I can do," you teased back, grabbing your phone and the nearest jacket and heading towards the door.

"Don't forget to get me a coffee too!" Jey called after you, a soft smile on his face as he watched you leave the room, enjoying the playful banter.

"I won't" You shouted back as you shut the door behind you, a smile tugging at your lips as you made your way downstairs to the breakfast area. The morning air felt refreshing as you walked through the hotel lobby, heading towards the restaurant area where breakfast was being served.

Talking things out with Jey had left you feeling lighter, the tension from the previous night slowly dissipating. He was truly an enigma, you thought to yourself. His protective nature and genuine concern, mixed with a fiery temper, made him both frustrating and endearing at the same time. But that's why you liked him.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a variety of breakfast items greeted you as you entered the restaurant. You made your way to the buffet, selecting an array of items, making sure to get something for Jey that he would appreciate.

"Was beginning to think you stood me up."

You didn't bother to look up from loading your plate as you heard the voice behind you.

"I keep my promises, unlike some people." You retorted, putting on a blank face as you turned around to face Kevin, who was leaning against the counter, a knowing smile on his lips.

Kevin ignored your remark, his eyes scanning the food on your plate. "Looks like someone's hungry. Didn't know you were into breakfast dates," Kevin remarked casually, a playful glint in his eyes as he teased you.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, trying to brush off his teasing. "It's not a date, Kevin. Just grabbing some food for a friend," you clarified, picking up a coffee and adding it to your tray before turning to head back to the room.

Kevin fell into step beside you, his smirk widening. "A friend, huh? Didn't know Jey was that close of a friend to get breakfast served to the room," he teased, nudging you playfully as you walked.

You sighed, feeling a little exasperated by Kevin's persistent teasing and a little worried Roman or Paul would see you with Kevin. "Cut the bullshit, Kevin. What do you want?"

Kevin noticed your guarded tone and nervous demeanor and dropped the teasing, adopting a more serious expression. "This! This is what I wanted to you about! You acting like there's some of curfew on you ever since you joined the Bloodline!"

You shot him a glare at his loud accusation, trying to keep your voice low. "Keep your voice down, Kevin! You know I can't be seen chatting with you like this," you hissed, glancing around nervously to ensure no one from the Bloodline was nearby.

Kevin shot his arms out, looking like he was seconds away from exploding because of your words. "Oh my god, Y/N, this is ridiculous! You're tiptoeing around like you're on eggshells all the time. When was the last time you had a normal conversation with someone without looking over your shoulder? Without your Tribal Chief watching your every move?"

Your expression hardened at Kevin's words. "I am not walking on eggshells!"

"Oh really? Because it sure looks like it! You're acting like a robot following orders, not a human being!" Kevin's frustration was evident, his voice carrying a mix of concern and exasperation.

"I'm doing what I have to do to stay where I am!" you shot back, feeling defensive at Kevin's accusations, trying to walk away from prying eyes. "I want to get to the top, and Roman is helping me to get there!"

Kevin shook his head, his expression one of disappointment. "At what cost, Y/N? What's the point of being part of something if you can't be yourself?"

You bristled at Kevin's words, feeling a mix of frustration and internal conflict. "Let's not act like you haven't been through this before, Kevin. You know how it is. This is the business. This is how things work!"

Kevin's expression softened, his voice turning more empathetic. "I get it, Y/N. I've been there, I know how the business works. But you're different."

You glared at him, tired of his line of thinking. Why couldn't he just be happy for you? "Because I'm weak, right?"

"No. Because you're my best friend."

That shut you up. Kevin actually looked heartbroken, actually looked like he cared about you. His eyes were filled with genuine concern that made you stop in your tracks, a look you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Kev…" you started, but before you could finish, footsteps approached, and you quickly glanced around, feeling paranoid about someone overhearing your conversation.

Paul and Roman were making their way towards the breakfast area, engaged in conversation. They hadn't seen you yet, but you couldn't take any chances. Kevin noticed your sudden unease and the change in your expression, quickly grasping the situation.

"I gotta go, Kevin." You pleaded with Kevin, feeling the urgency of the situation and not wanting to draw any more attention. You glanced nervously at Paul and Roman, hoping Kevin would just listen to you for once and finally let you be.

Kevin followed your gaze, face dropping when he spotted Paul and Roman, his face turning back to you with a disappointed expression that made your heart hurt. "Fine, go. But we're not done talking about this, Y/N. I meant what I said. I'm not letting them take you away from me" he said firmly, his eyes conveying both frustration and concern.

You sighed but didn't have time to argue with him, giving him a grateful yet conflicted nod before hurriedly making your way out of the restaurant area, feeling the weight of the conversation with Kevin tugging at your thoughts. Heading back to Jey's room, you tried to shake off the mixture of emotions clouding your mind.

Upon entering, you found Jey sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as you entered, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Hey pretty girl, you're back! Got the coffee?" he asked with a grin.

"Yeah, got your coffee and some food," you replied, trying to push away the lingering unease from the encounter with Kevin. You placed the tray on the table and handed him the coffee.

Jey took the coffee with a grateful nod, then glanced at you, his expression shifting slightly. "Everything alright?"

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to share the encounter with Kevin. But before you could respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Checking it quickly, you saw a message from Kevin:

"I meant what I said. And if I have to take out Roman to protect you, I will."

Your heart raced at Kevin's message. Why couldn't he just leave things be? But he wouldn't be Kevin if he wasn't stubborn as hell. You swiftly pocketed your phone, trying to mask the anxiety bubbling within you.

"Yeah, everything's fine," you replied to Jey, forcing a smile. "Just had a small encounter downstairs. Nothing to worry about."

Jey studied you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Alright. Just know I'm here if you need to talk about anything." He reached out, gently squeezing your hand in a supportive gesture.

You smiled at the gesture, biting your lip at the way Jey was looking at you- all concerned and caring. You squeezed his hand back, your hands fitting together perfectly. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about."

You could only hope that was true.

"Welcome to Friday Night Smackdown! It is the go-home show before Elimination Chamber! I'm Michael Cole here with Corey Graves, and what a night it's shaping up to be, Corey!"

"Absolutely, Cole! The anticipation is at an all-time high as we lead into Elimination Chambe- Oh my god! We are getting life feed o-of Raw Women's Champion Becky Lynch being attacked!"

The camera quickly cut and panned to the hallway where Becky was sprawled onto the floor, a hooded figure beating down on her, grabbing a metal pole and smashing her arm into it. The attacker's face was hidden by the hood, but the assault was relentless. Security personnel rushed to the scene, attempting to intervene and pull the assailant away, but the attacker managed to escape, disappearing into the chaos of the backstage area.

"Becky, are you okay?" The medics tried to assist Becky, helping her sit up as she winced in pain, clutching her injured arm.

"I'm fine." She spat , trying to shake off the pain, her expression a mix of anger and frustration. "Get off me! I'm going to find that son of a…" Becky's words trailed off as she winced again, her arm clearly causing her significant discomfort.

"Becky!" You shouted, running towards Becky, concern etched across your face as you arrived at the chaotic scene, flanked by security and other WWE personnel who were attempting to assess the situation and offer help.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Your voice was filled with worry as you knelt beside Becky, who was visibly in pain, holding her injured arm close to her body.

Becky glanced up, her eyes filled with frustration and anger. "I don't know who it was, but they blindsided me and went after my arm. Son of a… I'll find them myself!"

The medics gently tried to examine Becky's arm, but she shrugged them off, pushing herself up despite the pain. "I'm fine, damn it! Just give me a minute to clear my head."

"She said she's fine!" You barked at one of the medics that tried to examine Becky's arm, your protective instincts kicking in. You gently put a reassuring hand on Becky's shoulder, trying to calm her down. "Let's get you some ice and take a look at that arm, Becky. We'll figure out who did this, but your health comes first."

Becky shot you a grateful yet annoyed glance, her frustration evident as she reluctantly allowed the medics to help her. "Fine, do what you need to do. But I'm finding out who did this, and they're going to regret crossing me."

"They will." You pursed your lips and help her stand up, wrapping her good arm around your shoulder and supporting her weight as you guided her to the medics. The cameras caught the tense scene, focusing on your support for Becky as you assisted her before the scene went black. going back to Michael Cole and Corey Graves in the commentary booth.

"An absolutely shocking turn of events here tonight, Corey. The Raw Women's Champion, Becky Lynch, attacked backstage before Elimination Chamber. The question on everyone's mind is, who could be behind this assault?"

"I have no idea Cole, but what I do know is that the rest of the compeitors in the Women's Chamber match just got an easier path to potentially winning the title if Becky's arm injury impedes her performance. What this means for Becky though, well keep you updated with any further developments as they come. We'll have to wait and see how this injury might affect her match at Elimination Chamber."

The screen flickered, transitioning into an ad break, leaving the audience in suspense.

You left medical after helping Becky settle down, ensuring she was receiving proper care for her injured arm. The chaos backstage was palpable, with security and WWE officials scrambling to understand what had just occurred. Everyone was gossiping in hushed tones, on edge and trying to speculate on who might be behind the attack on Becky Lynch.

You felt a knot of concern and apprehension form in your stomach as you walked in the hallway, concerned for Becky's well-being and troubled by the uncertainty and tension lingering backstage.

“I know you did it.” You looked up at the voice making the accusation, coming face to face with the man that broke your heart- Seth Freakin' Rollins.

"Excuse me?" You started, taken aback by Seth's sudden accusation.

"You heard me." Seth's tone was stern, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with accusation and anger. "You attacked Becky, didn't you?"

Your jaw dropped in shock. "What? No! Why would you even think that?" Your voice came out in a mix of disbelief and offense.

"Don't play innocent with me!" Seth's voice rose, drawing the attention of nearby personnel. He stepped closer, his finger pointed accusingly. "You've been acting too nice lately! I know you've had issues with Becky, and now this happens? It's too much of a coincidence!"

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Seth, you have it all wrong. I would never do something like that! I care about Becky, despite our differences."

Seth scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, getting in your face. "You might have the rest of the roster fooled with your nice girl act, but I know better."

Your frustration mounted as Seth continued to accuse you. "First of all, you lost the right to talk to me at all when you cheated on me, so stop acting like you know me or my intentions. And secondly, I would never attack someone, even if had issues with them. So get out of my face or else."

Seth's expression softened slightly at your words, a flicker of doubt crossing his features, but his accusatory stance remained, and he moved closer to you, his tall figure towering over you. "Or else what?'

"Or else you and your girl are gonna have matching casts." Roman's gruff voice cut through the tense air, causing both you and Seth to turn your heads to find Roman standing a few feet away, his presence commanding attention.

Seth straightened up, eyeing Roman warily but not backing down entirely. "You have nothing to do with this Roman, so let me handle my business."

Roman's eyes were locked onto Seth, his demeanor radiating a warning. "You come at her again, and you won't just be dealing with her. You'll be dealing with me."

Seth seemed to contemplate his next move, glaring at both of you. "What do you even have to do with Y/N?"

Roman 's gaze didn't waver, his tone firm and unwavering. "She's family. And that's all you need to know."

Seth hesitated, clearly weighing his options. He shot one last piercing look in your direction before stepping back, his eyes still filled with suspicion and anger. "This isn't over," he muttered before turning on his heel and walking away.

You let out a deep breath, feeling the tension slowly dissipate as Seth moved away. Glancing up at Roman, you saw a mixture of concern and reassurance in his eyes.

"He's getting closer." You warned Roman, feeling the weight of Seth's accusation and the looming threat in the air. "He's not as dumb as I thought he was, Roman. He's putting things together."

Roman's expression tightened slightly, his protective instincts evident. "I'll handle it. Don't worry about him."

You looked at him with worry, not entirely convinced. "But if he-"

"I said I'l handle it," Roman interrupted, his voice firm and reassuring. "He won't be a problem after tonight. Trust your Tribal Chief."

You nodded, trusting Roman's assurance, but the unease lingered within you. Roman's voice meant business, and you had to trust him to handle it. You had no other option.

"I do trust you, Chief." You assured Roman. Roman seemed satisfied with your trust in him, giving you a nod, his demeanor still protective. "That's all I need to hear. Just focus on what's ahead. Go to the locker room to calm down. We've got a big night tonight."

You breathed out with a sigh, nodding in agreement with Roman's advice. Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks, Roman." You looked up at him, giving him a grateful smile.

"No problem. And," Roman stopped you from leaving just yet, his voice turning serious "I promised you I would make Jey handle Seth, remember?" You nodded, and Roman continued, "That promise will have to come a little early. It will be cashed in tonight, trust me. Tell Jey it's time."

With that assurance, you nodded again, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude toward Roman. "Thank you, Roman. I appreciate it."

Roman offered a reassuring nod before stepping away, leaving you to gather your thoughts and emotions as you made your way to the Bloodline's locker room, trying to calm your racing thoughts and the tension knotting your muscles.

You opened the door and saw Jey sitting on a bench, lacing up his boots. He looked up as you entered, a curious expression on his face.

"Hey, everything good?" Jey asked, noticing the tense energy you brought into the room.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before responding. "I need your help."

Jey stopped what he was doing, giving you his full attention. "What happened?" It was rare you would ask him for help, you didn't like bothering people with your issues, but Jey could see the urgency in your eyes and knew it was serious.

"Seth knows." You blurted out, your voice edged with worry.

Jey's expression turned serious, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the information. "How much does he know?"

You sighed, trying to collect your thoughts. "He knows enough to get suspicious. He yelled at me, and Roman stepped in before things escalated. But he's not stupid, Jey. He's putting the pieces together."

Jey stood up immediately, his demeanor shifting to a more alert and protective stance. "Did he threaten you?"

You shook your head quickly. "No, not exactly. But he's getting closer to figuring things out. He's not letting it go."

Jey let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Damn it. I'll handle it."

You held up a hand, stopping him from rushing off. "No, Jey. That's not what I need. Roman said it's time."

Understanding flashed in Jey's eyes as he comprehended Roman's message. "Got it. I'll handle Seth tonight."

"Please be careful," you pleaded with Jey, worry lacing your tone. The tension in the air was palpable, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of impending conflict.

Jey gave you a reassuring nod. "I got this. You just focus on what you need to do tonight. Focus on your match tomorrow, not this, okay? That's the only thing you need to worry about, you got it?" Jey stood up and cupped your face, gently ilting your chin up to meet his eyes, his expression serious yet comforting.

You nodded, trying to steady your nerves. "Okay. I'll focus on the match."

Jey's hand dropped from your face, but he maintained eye contact, his gaze intense. "I mean it, pretty girl. Leave this to me. Go out there and kill it tomorrow."

You nodded again, feeling a mix of gratitude and anxiety. "I will. Thank you, Jey."

Jey smiled at you reassuringly, bringing you into a hug, his strong arms encircling you in a comforting embrace. "Anytime, Y/N. You got this. Now go get ready for tomorrow. We'll take care of the rest."

You reciprocated the hug briefly before pulling away, a grateful smile on your face. "Thanks, Jey. I appreciate it." You didn't know if you could fully leave the situation in their hands, but for now, you had to trust in Roman and Jey's ability to handle things.

Jey's hand tightening its grip on your cheek brought you out of your reverie. "You're gonna be alright," he assured you once more, his tone soothing. "Just focus on what's ahead. Promise me you won't get caught up in no mess."

You paused, taking a deep breath, feeling the weight of Jey's words. "I promise, Jey. I'll stay focused on my match and won't get caught up in any mess."

Jey nodded in approval, releasing your cheek. "That's my pretty girl. Now go chill out and I'll find you after I'm done with my match, and we can ride to the venue together."

You managed a small smile, feeling reassured by Jey's support. "Alright, I'll see you after your match."

With another hug and smile, Jey left the locker room, leaving with your thoughts, which was never a good thing. You thought of going to see Becky and check on her, but you knew she needed space right now. Maybe you could find a quiet spot backstage to clear your head?

Your phone buzzing made you pause your train of thought, and you checked it to find a message from someone you didn't want to see right now.

Sami: "I heard what happened. Meet me backstage. We need to talk."

You tried to pocket your phone, but another message came through from Sami:

Sami: Fine, you won't come to me than I'll come to you. I'm on my way to the Bloodline's locker room.

Your eyes widened in alarm at Sami's messages. He seemed insistent on meeting you, and the last place you wanted to face him was in the Bloodline's locker room.

You: Do you want to get killed?

Sami: I'm more afraid of losing you then of Roman.

You: And you're not afraid of me?

Sami: I'm coming. You can't avoid me forever.

You quickly made a decision, knowing you couldn't risk any unnecessary confrontations or disruptions, especially with Sami involved. Leaving the Bloodline's locker room swiftly, you navigated through the backstage area, trying to avoid running into Sami. The urgency to get away from the situation was mounting, and you found a secluded spot away from the main areas.

Sami: "Y/N, where are you? I'm looking for you."

You were on edge, your heart racing as you received Sami's message. You tried to stay out of sight, not wanting to engage in any conversation with Sami right now.

Sami: "Answer me! I know you're here somewhere."

Your phone buzzed again with another message from Sami, and then another.

Sami: "I just want to talk. Please."

You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to avoid the situation altogether and understanding that Sami seemed persistent about speaking with you. But you knew this was the best thing to do, to avoid any more trouble or confrontation.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly tried to type out a response, but Sami beat you to it.

Sami: Fine, you won’t talk to me, then I’ll have to get your attention.

Your heart caught in your throat at Sami's ominous message. He better not do anything stupid and rash, you thought to yourself, trying to quickly think of a way to de-escalate the situation before it got out of hand.

"Shut up, Kev." You reply with a hint of urgency in your voice, hoping to divert Kevin's attention away. But of course Kevin was Kevin and wouldn't listen to you.

"I told you that we would continue our conversation," Kevin persisted, his tone serious despite the playful jab. "Love the red look." Kevin gestured to your newly dyed red hair. "But at the end of the day, we both know you are not blood, and you don't belong with them."

Then where did you belong? With Kevin, who has betrayed you time and time again, or with the Bloodline, where you found a sense of belonging but constantly faced challenges and suspicions? It seemed like no matter where you turned, there was always someone questioning your loyalty or motives. And you wanted that to stop.

You gritted your teeth, trying to maintain your composure despite the rising tension and your underlying worries about Sami's unpredictable behavior. "And why do you say that?" You stood up, glancing around to ensure no one else was within earshot, trying to keep Kevin's attention focused solely on you.

"Because I know you, Y/N," Kevin replied, his voice softening slightly as he met your gaze. "I know you better than you think."

"No, you don't." You glared at him, feeling frustration bubbling within you. "You think you know me, but you don't. You never have."

Kevin seemed taken aback by the intensity of your response, his expression softening into a more concerned look. "I know you are not cut out for this life, Y/N. You've always been different, and that's okay. But being with the Bloodline… it's changing you. It's not who you are."

Your eyes were intense with emotions, a mix of frustration, anger, and uncertainty. "And you know who I am?" It was almost scary how you seemed to waver between conflicting emotions, your voice edged with frustration and vulnerability. "Did you know how I felt when you betrayed me, Kevin? When you left me to fend for myself? You moved closer to Kevin, lowering your voice as you spoke. "Do you know how ost I felt after that?"

Kevin seemed to falter for a moment, his expression showing a flicker of regret. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Y/N. You have to believe me."

But your patience was wearing thin. "Believe you? Like I believed you before? Like I believed in our friendship? Look where that got me, Kevin. And look where I am now." You gestured to yourself, and Kevin could feel the anger rolling off of you, could feel how different you were. Could see the cockiness from your time with the Bloodline seeping into your demeanor.

"I am this close to getting that title, to becoming someone, to finding my place here. And I promise you, that if you stand in my way, that I will not hesitate to make sure you regret it." Your voice was firm, your gaze unwavering as you confronted Kevin, the frustration and determination evident in your words.

Kevin's expression turned solemn, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and concern. "You're bluffing." He scoffed, not wanting to believe that you'd changed so much. "This isn't you."

You stared at Kevin, your expression hardening as you stood your ground. "Oh really?" You pointed to the TV that was behind the two of you. "Look at the TV, Kevin."

Kevin's eyes flickered to the TV screen as you pointed, and he saw Roman and Jey sending Seth through the commentary table, bruises and scratches evident on Seth's face as Jey grabbed Seth's face, making him face the camera.

"This is what happens when you mess with the family!" Jey growled , his voice echoing through the TV speakers. Roman stood beside him, his expression unreadable but menacing. "This is what happens when you cross the Bloodline!"

Kevin's eyes widened at the sight on the screen, his expression a mix of shock and realization. He turned back to you, searching your face for any signs of regret or hesitation. But all he saw was determination and resolve.

"That's what happens when you cross me, Kevin." You spoke with an eerie calmness that sent a shiver down Kevin's spine. "That's the kind of power I have behind me now. And if you don't stay out of my way, you'll end up just like Seth. So, back off."

Kevin's expression turned serious, a mix of concern and disbelief clouding his features. "You wouldn't do that to me."

You didn't flinch, your demeanor steady and resolute. "Are you sure?" You pointed to the TV again, and Kevin turned to see Sami jumping Roman, fists clenched, trying to land punches before Jey tackled him to the ground. Chaos erupted on the screen as Jey and Roman fought back against Sami's attack, punching him and trying to subdue him.

"See that?" You met Kevin's eyes once more, your voice low but filled with conviction. "I knew Sami was gonna do something rash, and trust me, I tried to stop him. But he wouldn't listen. Just like you're not listening to me now. So I had to get creative."

You knew Sami wouldn't listen to you, wouldn't leave you alone, so you lured him to Roman and Jey, praying he would listen to them. "You're risking getting involved in something you shouldn't, Kevin. And I won't be responsible for what happens next if you don't back off."

Kevin's expression was a mix of shock, concern, and disbelief. He looked at you, seeing a different person from the friend he once knew. The sweet and caring individual he had been friends with had seemingly transformed into someone unrecognizable — and it was all Roman's fault.

"They've changed you," Kevin said softly, almost to himself, the realization sinking in as he looked at you. "And I'm not gonna let them do this to you any longer."

You sighed, feeling a pang of regret but also a sense of determination. "This is my last warning to you, Kevin. I don't want to hurt you. Stay out of it. You can't change what's already happened."

Kevin seemed torn, his expression reflecting a mix of worry and regret. "Y/N, please. Let's talk about this. You don't have to do this."

But you were resolute, your mind made up. "I'm warning you for the last time, Kevin. Stay out of my business."

You moved towards him, your faces inches apart, and the tension between the two of you was thick. "Stay away from Roman, or you'll regret it," you finished firmly, your tone leaving no room for negotiation or argument.

Kevin looked at you, the reality of the situation sinking in as he processed your warning. He took a step back, a mix of concern and disappointment on his face. "I hope you know that I've never listened to your warnings before, and I'm not gonna start now."

You didn't respond, merely holding his gaze for a moment longer before turning away, striding purposefully in the opposite direction, leaving Kevin behind with a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

Time was ticking, and the pressure was crushing you, eating at your conscience.

And you've never felt more alive.

a/n: this chapter was so much fun to write, so I hope you guys enjoyed it!! sami and Kevin just can't let go lol. also y/n will be played by savannah lee smith cause she's a literal goddess!! lemme know how you guys liked this chapter in the comments!! elimination chamber and test next chapter, so be prepared for that 👀

[briefhottubcoffee]

Let me talk about Becky. Can I talk about Becky?

Right from the start, she has been such a good friend to our little Anya. Let’s face it. Anya’s a freaking dork. And first impressions are important on the first days of schools. Everyone is mean to Anya at first and keep her at a distance. Damian bullies her immediately. But Becky?? Becky Blackbell??? The spoiled daughter of a mega corporation?? She’s not gonna go with the crowd. She sees this strange little commoner girl and is immediately like “this is my new best friend. I’m gonna love and support her, take care of her, stick up to the bullies for her, comfort her, flirt with her dad, etc.”

Think about all the weird shit Anya is already doing at Eden. She’s obsessed with hanging out with Damian, her bully, and Becky is like “okay girl! Go get him! I’ll support you!” She gets bad grades and Becky is right there going “man this school is so tough! I love your positive outlook! You’ll do great next time!” And Anya gets a Stella and Becky is immediately there hugging her and congratulating her like she had no doubt Anya could do it. By aligning herself with Anya immediately, Becky ostracizes herself from the rest of the class. But she doesn’t care at. all.

Also! On the first day, we see that Becky ran home and told Martha about this weird girl in her class and she says “maybe school won’t be so bad after all!” Are you kidding?!?

This is also Anya’s first introduction to school presumably. She was scared and already an outsider. She was pressured to go to a school she’s not prepared for because of Loids mission. But Becky was there. Becky is the first friend she’s had. And look at this!! She’s ride or die.

And in turn, Anya is Becky’s first friend! This is one of my favorite Becky panels:

This is the first time we ever see her kinda.. sad?? She’s insecure and worried Anya didn’t have fun shopping with her, cuz Becky is pushy and bossy. She’s already unsure if she’s worthy of having a friend. But Anya had an awesome time! And Becky is so freaking happy!! I can’t! Waaaaahhhh!!!

Listen, I don’t know what’s going to happen with the rest of the series. But we keep Becky. We stand with Becky. Anya is a happy girl now, but she had a presumably very difficult life before The Forgers. She has her parents, of course. And they live and die for Anya, of course. But they are traumatized adults with impossible jobs and (with Loid specifically) outward love and affection are difficult for traumatized people. Anya is young and she needs that devotion and love and safety and security. Becky gives it to her so freely. There’s nothing holding her back. Becky is a source of happy and fun no matter what. And she’s so freaking funny too.

Like Loid said: cherish friendships. It’s so important to me that Becky and Anya are such best friends. Things could go to hell, but I KNOW they will be there for each other no matter what. It’s so special.

[a-tiny-teez]

Behind the scenes

Yandere Director OC X Fem reader

Part 1

Warning : 18+ content,MDNI, age gap, yandere themes, kidnapping,power imbalance, implied non-con, slight slow burn, reader is in her mid twenties and yandere Director is in his late thirties.

1:34 AM

The sound of the clock ticking away could be heard as you continue to type away on the keyboard.The last few scenes of the work you've been working on are going to be completed and with new inspiration you continue . Pulling all nighters , dumping strong coffee in your system and an unhealthy amount of rest has been your life for the last six months.

The purrs of your beloved cat taking your attention for a slight bit was actually quite good for your eyes as looking at a screen for a long time strained your eyes heavily. You looked at your cat with a smile. “ Just a bit left baby ”.It wasn't that you had a deadline. It's just that you loved your work. Your friends often made jokes about your intense workaholic routine but you just laughed them off.

“ At this point you're gonna have to marry your own character” , your friend Becky said laughing.

“ Wouldn't be bad you know” ,you smirked at her and she shook her head with a smile.

Being a playwright was your dream that you accomplished just a few years ago. Doing part time jobs and studying were most of the things you did during your college days. So although you were completely new to this field of work , you have gained quite a good amount of fame. Some of your work has been appreciated by the audience and the rookie playwright of the year award was a great feat of accomplishment of your whole life.

Now back to present, with the last word typed away you save your work and then send it to your beta to recheck everything. Stretching your arms out you yawned and finally stood up. Going over to your kitchen and opening a cabinet you pulled out a microwave ramen and decided to settle for it tonight. You decided tomorrow you'd go grocery shopping as you shivered watching the sorry state of fridge. After a few minutes you had your ramen while watching the tv . There was nothing much going on the tv at this time so you settled for a documentary show that was being re-broadcasted.

Oh , it's him. You thought as you slurped on the noodles. Spicey just as you liked it. The documentary was about a famous film director. You had seen him a few times during award shows. He was one of the most successful directors of the time and all of his films were successful as he got the best director awards quite a few times. It must be fate now that you came across this because you were just thinking about sending him your work. You doubted it'd be accepted but still it's worth a shot. You gotta keep trying in this field of job.

Hoping you'd at least have your work checked by him you turned off the TV and dumped the trash in the garbage can. Then after cleaning up you went to bed to get the sleep you very much needed.

____________________

“ I've finished rechecking. It's all good to send. Be assured”, said your beta, Alan .

“Alright. Done” you said clicking the send button. Now if it's accepted you'd get to meet the director and it'll be made into a film. Your genre this time matched with the kind of works he worked on so you hoped your work will get at least the recognition.

“ Man I hope I'll get accepted”

“ Don't worry. I have a good feeling about this and you worked really hard on this so don't lose hope” , reassured Alan. You smiled at him and hoped for the best.

“You wanna get lunch ? My treat.” You asked.

“Why not? Can't say no to free food”, he sheepishly smiled.

Alan was like your little brother. He's been with you ever since your first work and over the time you two bonded as if he was family. He was still a student from your alma mater and he looked up to you a lot. You were happy to have him appreciate you cause there were times when you felt despair but he was the one who always helped you get through tough times.

After eating and bidding Alan goodbye you went to the grocery store. Walking towards the aisle you remembered what you needed and put them in the cart. A carton of milk, eggs, vegetables, sausages ,Nutella oh and you were about to run out of coffee so a jar of coffee. Okay , that's all from here . Then you bought some cooking spices and other necessities. Checking everything you went to the cashier. Paying for everything you went out the store and a cold breeze passed by making you shiver. October was ending and it was getting colder. You pulled your coat closer and loaded your car then drove away to home as you planned on making dinner and having hot chocolate later.

_____________________

2 days later

The sound of luminary playing in the background could be heard as you were cleaning out your closet and filling it with warm clothes. It was one of your favourite soundtracks. It was just so beautiful and gave you lots of ideas.

You remember the earlier phone call. You still couldn't believe it. Dominic Albero read your script and he wanted to have a meeting with you. His assistant called and made you aware about the appointment which is tomorrow night. You're so happy right now. You can't believe your work got recognized by THE director everyone wants to work with. You informed Alan about this and boy was he so enthralled with the situation. He wished you best of luck for tomorrow and you decided you'd celebrate with him if your work gets adapted tomorrow.

[cinamun]

Personally, I think tough love is what DJ needs. Grab that ninja by the collar and tell him to get. his. shit. together. Like I get a man feeling his feelings, but I have no sympathy for anyone that's the cause of their own demise. He probably had the best thing in the world, but HE fucked that up by sleeping around. To still sleep around and play with girl's emotions instead of setting boundaries from the beginning and wonder why he got a dent in his head. Girls aren't the issue boy look in the mirror. Do you even like what you see? Stop w/ the punk a** mentality and do some serious soul searching. It's getting pathetic. Also, I feel like I had the discussion before I am getting weird deja vu 🤣🤣

But.....

He didn't sleep around. He got some dome on the 3-seater by becky the seed eater when he thought he was on a "break" from maya the keeper. He was confusion. So Darren put him up on game about what a "break" means to women. He tried apologizing and all kindsa shit and now he's sliding down the side of his busted truck snot-nose crying.

AND...

I wanna give him at the very least an E for effort. She in the bed talking about she love him when they discussed FWB and she was cool with it enought to come BACK over.....until that O hit. And instead of having this conversation with him (again) she grabbed a skillet and two cinderblocks with her strong ass and aimed high.

Stong ass arm having lady. Oh he getting some tough love alright LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO .... I'm sorry, I couldn't help that.

...but y'all stay tuned tho.

[feydir]

Anyone wanna help out a queer disabled lady? I've been searching for a job for months, and I haven't found anything. The main reason is because I can't drive and my city decided my area doesn't deserve bus service. So I can't find a job because I don't have reliable transportation, and finding a at home job is extremely tough.

To get the class that will help me a lot with my driving anxiety costs around 1k, so I'm trying to save up for that. But it's extremely hard, since the only money I get is like 70$ everything 3 months. My husband offered to help, but I already feel like a burden, cause I can't help pay for anything.

So i'm trying to raise funds to afford this class, and be able to help with some of the household expenses. Thank you for reading!

[librarycards]

hi, are you up for a rec post? I'm looking to read more utopian fiction, skewing toward the recent if possible. I've read le guin's the dispossessed and always coming home, I've read some iain banks with very mixed feelings, read and was middling on a half-built garden, am about to finish everything for everyone and waiting to pick up the faggots and their friends between revolutions. where should I go next?

ty for your patience on this! utopian fiction is tough to write and tough to find, especially well-written (I have issues with AK Press's Black Dawn series for precisely this reason...lots of really great political/cultural speculation and utopian imagining, with some shit-to-mediocre prose.)

that said, a few (e)utopian - that is, works that may imagine 'better' worlds and in so doing imagine different worlds, worlds with new genres of problem even as they presuppose some issues (capitalism etc) have been meaningfully addressed/not existed int he same way) - works I rec:

Becky Chambers's oeuvre. Just, like, all of it. If I were to name a 'next generation Le Guin,' it'd be her, no question.

Malka Ann Older, ...And Other Disasters

Sybil Lamb, The Girl Who Was Convinced Beyond All Reason That She Could Fly (anarcho-scavenger utopia in the scrungly city!)

Neal Shusterman, The Arc of a Scythe series

Keely Shinners, How to Build a Home for the End of the World

Bonus: C Pam Zhang, Land of Milk and Honey (aka: what if utopi–– OH FUCK OH NO STOP) (aka: what if Atlas Shrugged was self-aware and written with skill?)

hope you find something you like :) & ofc keep on with the le guin (this goes without saying)!

[skeletonapricationday]

SPICY DAVID HEADCANNONS

I have not found any smut related thing to this man, and to me that is a crime. I carnaly desire him, I long, I pin for him. Gimme David smut. This is mainly for a female reader but feel free to ignore any gender related comments and enjoy regardless of your sex. Anyways I'm lazy so here's some Headcannons.

No titties, Itty bitties, or big ol' honkers he doesn't care. David has never been one to have a specific fetish or type for his partners body. Hell he's just happy someone like you wants to have sex with him. As long as he can bury his face into your chest while you fuck, regardless of wether he's pressing against a flat board or being muffled by your mounds, he's a happy camper.

David isn't one to shave often. He's always sporting some kind of bush down there, he loves nature afterall. His pubes don't worry or bother him since he doesn't grow alot of body hair in the first place. For hygienic reasons he does trim, working in the sun all day does make him sweat.

Once again David is all about nature! He doesn't care if you're all smooth like a baby's bottom or if you're Becky with the good hair, a meals a meal. He nearly cums when you cum, even without contact, so he does enjoy a good session of oral. Picking pubes out of his teeth later isn't a concern.

David surprisingly isn't much of a moaner. All those years of working as a camp consular has trained him to be quiet. He's used to thrusting into his hand while biting his bottom lip, keeping himself silent for the campers sake. This has turned him into a whimperer. He's all whines and hushed begging. Whenever he shoves his head into the crook of your neck during the heat of the moment, it's like being given a private concert.

Davy loves a good pet name. Call him sugar, sweetness, darling, or even pretty boy. He doesn't care. As long as it's a term of endearment it sends a pang to his heart and heat to his dick in the bedroom. Expect alot of silent pleads, he just wants to be called a good boy.

David is easy to have his feelings hurt. Pretty please be nice to him! Degradation just isn't his thing. He would always try for his partners sake, if that's your thing, but he doesn't enjoy it. Being called a hurtful thing just makes him wanna cry. It's even worse if you request he do it. You remember what happened when he last pretended to be tough. This doesn't mean he's utterly vanilla though.

Overstimulate him. Oh does he adore becoming a whiny mess. As long as you warn him before hand that you're going to do it, he's down. He especially loves when you claw the amount of times he's cum into his back (be careful with your marks though, yall don't need any nosy campers asking questions. Always keep it under the shirt.) David has been extremely sexually repressed throughout his life, he's got plenty in the tank to spare.

David's libido isn't insanely high. He'd much more enjoy a sweet picnic, or a romantic hike in the woods compared to sex. He'd never reject it though. This does mean most of your sexual ednevours will have to be initiated by you. You learn pretty quickly as long as the area is clear he's down to bone, so it isn't much of a problem. Just crawl in his lap late at night while all the campers lay asleep, and it is on like Donkey Kong!

David surprisingly doesn't do porn. He's always had an overactive imagination. Who needs adult entertainment when you have the perfect titties in your mind? Better yet, who needs porn when he has you? You learned this by asking about his porn taste, only to find out he doesn't have one. He does do strippers on the other hand, you learned this before you were in a relationship. Having to drag his drunk ass home from Muffin Tops.

Thighs, utterly delectable. Wiggle your thighs at him and his mind goes south. He just can't help it, they're tempting him. Especially in those little shorts (as long as he ignores the sexist implications of the women's camp consular uniform) he can't help but stare. Expect alot of thigh grabs, thigh hugs, and small little hickies hidden on the inside of your thighs. Delcious~

His favorite sex positions are the ones where you have to be close, which means any positon. He'll find a way to make it work. Riding him while pressing your forehead to his, a mating press with his face hidden in your shoulder, doggy as he pants against your back, spooning while he's inside you. As long as he can work his way near you, and I mean really near you, it's his favorite. He especially enjoys a nice romantic night of missionary since he can see your face, kiss you whenever he pleases, and when you lock your ankles behind his back it feels like heaven.

He's such a sweet boy. He may be on top of you, fucking into you in a dominant position but he's a bottom. No matter how you have sex, you're the one in control. Feel free to swap the position or flip him over and rock his world. He doesn't mind it, whatever you say goes. He loves when you're really dominant, those nights where you're beyond frustrated from bratty campers are his favorite.

David preens when you mark him. It does sadden him that due to the nature of his job you can't mark him more, but it's understandable. He'll take whatever he can get. Scratch marks down his back, check. Hickies hidden on his chest, check. Bitemarks on his thighs, for sure check. Mane him however you please, just keep it under his clothes.

I adore this man. Obviously love him. Keep your eyes out for an actual smut shot, or even normal one shots. I just want my little work husband.

[south-of-heaven]

Becky (or whoever you want from your masterlist that’s a woman) x reader

Whenever Becky (or whoever) gets injured reader always comes and like kisses her injuries and bruises telling Becky (or whoever) that it will make it better and they play along with reader knowing she gets worried about them.

if that makes sense

Princess treatment || Becky Lynch x Reader

Summary: You take care of Becky after she dislocated her shoulder.

You couldn't help but worry when you saw Becky come backstage after her brutal match at SummerSlam, her shoulder visibly out of place and her body battered from the fight. You knew what you had to do; it was time to take care of the fiery redhead who usually took care of everyone else.

The next few days were filled with you tending to her every need. You gently kissed her bruises, not caring if she thought it was phony; it was your way of showing her love and care. You brought her ice packs and painkillers, making sure she was comfortable and pain-free. You sat with her, running your fingers through her hair as she winced in pain or frustration, just providing the comfort she needed.

Becky, who was used to being the one to dish out the punishment, found herself in an unfamiliar situation. She played along with the 'princess treatment,' even if she thought it was a little excessive. She did it not for herself, but to see that worried look on your face turn into one of relief. She knew how much you cared for her, and she wanted to let you know that she appreciated all you were doing.

While she might have been the fiery man in the ring, she had a softer side, and you brought that out in her. It was in these moments, the vulnerability of injury, that she realized how much she cared for you, too. Your unwavering support and love meant the world to her, and the princess treatment was more real than she had initially thought.

As the days passed and Becky's injuries healed, you both found a deeper connection in the midst of her recovery. You continued to be there for her, not just during the tough times, but always, because you cared about her and loved her, even when she wasn't wearing her fiery red hair and leather jacket.

[tantive404]

Anya Forger is going to be so hard-core when she grows up. Raised by an assassin and a spy, taught (intentionally) to be able to fight to defend herself and (unintentionally) how to lie and deceive her way out of trouble… Of course she’ll still be the sweet little chaos gremlin she always has been, but I imagine she’ll have a cunning and ferocity to her distinctly born from the upbringing her mother and father gave her… and a toughness born from the tight (often traumatizing) situations she finds herself in all throughout her younger years. Never mind the fact that she can also literally read minds.

Damian Desmond, now wielding a great amount of wealth and political power, is still going to be head over heels for this young woman who punched him in the face when they first met in first grade. He is going to want to get to know her better… and Anya, tsundere as ever, is going to have to “pretend” to go along with it… for the mission. Little does Damian know their families are completely at odds with one another…

Their romance is going to be a whirlwind worthy of the soap operas Becky is so fond of watching. Miss Blackbell will no doubt be swooning over damianya for the rest of their days. Maybe she’ll get to be their maid of honor?

[songbirdlopez]

Santana Lopez is lazy. At least, according to herself in New Directions (5x13) "I'm too lazy to do eight shows a week". Now I have many issues with this episode and the entire understudy plot, but that isn't what I want to expand on here. I just want to talk about this one line.

Warning, this is a very long post.

Where on Earth did the writers get that idea? I can see Santana genuinely believing that about herself since her self esteem isn't always the greatest, but Rachel never corrects her. Santana says she is lazy, and that's it. She's lazy. But wait a minute, are we talking about the same Santana here?

Let me bring up the obvious. The cheerios. I don't think it's possible to be lazy and be a cheerleader under the leadership of Sue Sylvester (unless you're Becky, I guess). Santana was a cheerio for all of season 1 and 3, half of season 2 (only because without her, Quinn, and Brittany the cheerios weren't good enough to win), and presumably all of her freshman year. That's three and a half years of gruelling training and death-defying stunts. And for her senior year she is co-captain, so taking on extra responsibilities.

Also cheerios related, in Diva 4x13 Sue offers Santana a job as the cheerios coach. Despite knowing how tough Sue is she says yes. Later when speaking to Britt she says that she'll take over fully when Sue dies and she's gonna make sure that happens within a few years (presumably a joke but who knows what would've happened).

Then there's the New Directions. Santana is in the glee club for three (almost) straight years. We don't often see much more than lessons being introduced and then singing, but it's established in season 1 that they do vocal warm ups/training. There's also booty camp which runs late season 2 and all season 3. After she gets (unfairly imo) kicked out in The Purple Piano Project (3x01), she agrees to join Booty Camp to come back to ND. In universe she is one of the better dancers, so this is just a punishment that she accepts, she wants to be in the glee club and will do extra work for it. There's also practising for their competition numbers (even if it's the day of). In season 1 she helps come up with some choreography. Santana often has solo parts and was one of only a few members to get a full solo where she doesn't just park and bark (obvi Britt and Mike were the featured dancers but Santana has her own choreo). Santana is also one of only four characters who audition for a solo for nationals in Funeral (2x21), and she's one of only two who have some sort of choreography.

Continuing on with glee clubs, the Troubletones. Santana joined TT to get more focus. We saw TT discussions and dance practise, and we know that Shelby did vocal coaching that was better than Will's (Mercedes: "Shelby's a great teacher, I'm hitting notes I didn't even know existed.") Santana also pushed through a majorly distressing event (outing) to perform and used that pain to lift the performance (RHI/SLY).

School musicals. Santana has roles in three different school musicals. The only one she doesn't participate in is Cabaret, but that is just a sham to get Rach away from the New Directions. In season two she plays two different characters in Rocky Horror, she's double cast as Magenta (a supporting character) with Quinn, and she plays the lips (this is a mistake on the show's part, the lips are Riff Raff's actor in the movie, but on stage this song is performed by a character named Trixie the Usherette who does a reprise of the song at the end). In West Side Story she plays Anita. Finally in Grease she plays Rizzo, it's worth noting that she gets the role with very little notice and still (from what little we see) nails it.

Jobs. Throughout highschool Santana doesn't seem to have any part time employment, but that's the case for most characters. While she's at Louisville she doesn't need to get a job since she got a scholarship and a bunch of money from her mom. I mentioned previously that she almost got a job as cheerios coach. Once she moves to New York in season 4 she works a shit ton of jobs, like a ridiculous amount. She's a bouncer, a cage dancer, she works at the Coyote Ugly Saloon Bar, she's a waitress, a reoccurring actor for Yeast-I-Stat, Fanny Brice understudy, Rachel's publicist, back up singer (and maybe dancer?) for Mercedes which includes touring with her, and she is an active member of Pamela Lansbury before she and Rachel are kicked out.

Even ignoring the jobs that were just word of mouth, she had five jobs, that's more than any other character in the show, and we unfortunately never find out what she ends up doing.

In season 4 after a push from her friends she takes on NYADA extension classes.

Also relevant, in season 4 she drops out of college. This isn't because she's "too lazy", it's because of the environment. She didn't gel with her fellow students, there's no mention of the work being too much, it's purely that the other cheerleaders don't respond well to her. Her "brutal honesty" or whatever, still not a reflection of her work ethic, just her lack of tact (to put it lightly). Also worth mentioning, the two times we see her at Louisville she is clearly working hard. She can't talk to Britt because she's too busy, and in the scene where that Virginia Wolfe girl eyes her up she's in the library studying. In Jagged Little Tapestry (6x03) Santana tells Brittany that she would like to go back to college, unfortunately we never see if this comes to fruition.

Volunteering. Santana is also the character who volunteers the most. In Silly Love Songs (2x12) she says that she often volunteers at the hospital which is where she got the candy striper outfit. Two episode earlier in A Very Glee Christmas (2x10) the glee girls are going to sell their hair, Santana is the one to tell the others to "stop yapping" and just do it and is just a about to cut off her hair when Will stops them, so clearly she was willing to do it. The next Christmas Santana joins Sam and Quinn at the homeless shelter with the other New Directions after the tv special (kinda goes against her prior eagerness to help out, but makes sense since fame is her mistress). In Lights Out (4x20) she joins Rachel and Kurt volunteering at the Ballet Gala. Admittedly here it's takes a push and she only goes after being offered dresses.

Mentoring. From season four the ND alumni often come back to mentor the newbies or just to help out in general. Santana comes back in Glease (4x06), Thanksgiving (4x08), Diva (4x13), All or Nothing (4x21), 100/New Directions (5x12, 5x13), Homecoming (6x02), and Jagged Little Tapestry (6x03). (I'm not including The Breakup or The Quarterback because she came back for emotional reasons.)

Knowing all of this about her shows how hardworking and passionate Santana is. She is constantly working at something. She has her down time (watching Facts of Life, scrolling Rizzoli & Isles lesbian subtext blogs), but that seems few and far between when knowing just how much she works. It can also be inferred that she is a good student at WMHS, seeing as she got the scholarship to Louisville and they probably wouldn't accept her on just cheerleading merit alone, and she is seen multiple times with her books open, studying. (Pot O' Gold and Saturday Night Glee-ver come to mind). We also know that she cares about her education because she reported Will for being a sub par teacher in The Spanish Teacher (3x12).

Along with everything I just mentioned, Santana also takes it upon herself to do side quests when she wants something. She is so determined to prove that Quinn and Finn are having an affair that she gives herself mono (she's immune apparently, but still). She also goes full spy to take down Sebastian, and to take down Brody. With everything else she does and the effort she puts into random situations to do with her friends she must be goddamn exhausted.

Something I must bring up is related to her being Rachel's understudy. But first another disclaimer: I don't want this post to become a discussion on who was in the right in the situation, both women did bad things, that is not what this post is about. I only bring it up because it is the plot where this line is said, therefore some parts a relevant.

Santana only gets the idea to audition for the understudy role as Rachel leaves to go judge the auditions. We do not know exactly how much time passes in between but it's presumably only a few hours at most. This means that Santana had to memorise the song, change the key and structure by herself, and choreograph the number in a few hours. That shows dedication. Later on in The Back-Up Plan (5x18) Santana goes on in place of Rachel to try and save her friends job. Again she has very little time to prepare to play the role as the show is that night, and hasn't been the understudy for approximately a good few months. We don't see her perform but Rach herself says she was really good. It's unfortunate that we never see Santana get any opportunities come from this, but it's Glee so I digress.

In conclusion (I feel like I'm back in highschool lol), Santana Lopez has many flaws and there are many valid reasons to criticise her, her work ethic is not one. Santana is shown to be an extremely hard working and dedicated character who aims high and will put in the work to get what she wants, she won't let other people get in her way. She can be her own worst enemy and can get into a slump when she can't see a direction to go in, but she always pushes through. I think it's cowardly that the show not only decided that she was the sole offender of the Understudy Situation, but also shunted her with a negative descriptor that is in complete opposition to what we know of her. Despite also saying cruel things during the understudy plot line Rachel gets away with not apologising, and then lets Santana insult herself. It's an unfortunate result and complete character assassination for Santana and shows how little the writers care for her. It also destroys the friendship that Pezberry developed up until that point. Santana is not the only character to be described in a negative way even when the rest of the show doesn't represent that, Mercedes Jones gets this treatment even worse and more often. I do have a discussion about her in my drafts, hopefully I'll finish it one day. It sucks that two of the most versatile and skilled characters in Glee are constantly said to not be enough.

Santana Lopez is not lazy.

[animation-is-my-jam]

helloo! I really love your art style it's so pretty and love the tobecky content <33

I wanted to ask, which episode that involves tobecky is your favorite?

OHH GOSH THANK YOU!! AHH MEANS a lot. (^.^)＼(^_^)／❤️ (bites wall) and thx for the ask!

And what WG episode with Tobecky is my favorite? Hmm...toughie. There's some episodes, obviously, that have Tobey in them, but I don't consider Tobecky moments immediately (example: Field Day Fun with Robo-Tobey).

If I were to ever choose my top ones and narrow it down, though, it would go (no order just naming):

-Department Store Tobey

-Trustworthy Tobey

-It's your party and I cry if I want to

-By Jove, you've wrecked my robot

-Have you seen the remote

-Guess Who's coming to Thanksgiving Dinner

-The Robot problem

And to narrow it down... Okay damn it's tough again. Because I love their banter in By Jove and the hint that he's been getting a crush on Becky, but they have more sillier softer moments in season 1 episodes like Department and Seen The Remote. But Robot Problem has them actually team up, and it's the first episode where I started to ship them. BUT--Its My Party has them actually get ice cream after years of build-up and Tobey coming to his senses moments. And of course, Thanksgiving Dinner with them actually smiling at each other for one, HOWEVER, Trustworthy Tobey with being his last focus episode where he's strictly not being the worst and maybe turning reasoble along with it being Becky and Tobey conflict and not him and Wordgirl (PLUS THE NOTE UGHH)--

(Explodes) Ya see why this is tricky.

But for the sake of answering this....I'll go with right now...AHHH, it's gonna go to Trustworthy Tobey. It's what I'm feeling right now. Mostly cause... I remember when I did my Wordgirl re-watch in late 2017 that got me into the fandom again and started this years long hyperfixation. I was dreading the last Tobey episode/last Tobecky moments we'll get. You see, I liked the season 7 and 8 Tobey episodes, but man, ever since season 1, it's been hard trying to justify this kid when he gets washed like every episode and so I was like "plss be good" or at least give me hope for his character cause I didn't want him to regress. And what do you know...hope! Sure, he's still an immature jerk that's still in character, but at least he wasn't extreme or not immediately dismissive. He actually kept up being truthful and Becky learned something, not to mention he doesn't get scott-free either and this time the most he does is just unleash a malfunctioning robot to a library and not like destroy buildings or attempt to kill people.

Plus, I find it extremely interesting the dialog and moments he has with Becky as Becky and not Wordgirl. Because call me silly but to me peak Tobecky is when he interacts with Becky as herself and not just Wordgirl--the ship name isn't Wordbey after all. Plus again the note YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THAT SCREWED WITH ME WHEN I SAW IT. Because another factor to why I hold up this episode so highly...even though Robot Problem/Have you seen the Remote is what got me to officially ship them...this episode is what inspired me to make a lot of my Wordgirl and Tobecky content. Cause it filled my imagination in what their relationship and Tobey's character could go next and there was no new Tobey episode to contradict it tehe. It drove me to read fanfiction. Start drawing on my dingy phone with FlipaClip. Start drabbles that I never posted. Interact with others. It...kinda drove me crazy? Like it legit didn't make me okay, but hey it's why I consider it personally my favorite.