#i would also be in for that kind of smackdown

[ellswritings]

You Never Noticed Pt. 2

Drew McIntyre (Andrew Galloway) x reader

TW: Regular wrestling violence and angst. That’s all <3

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling, @mightypocketcow, @mortimertheduck, @mimisweetz, @lilywitchcollective

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They say time heals all wounds, but Y/N wasn’t sure that was the only reason why things healed. If she had left it all to time, she would still be wallowing in the fact that she lost the love of her life. That she had to walk away from a life she worked so hard to build with a man she loved more than anything in the world. But she refused to be some sad story. She refused to let people look at her like a victim from a sad romance movie.

So while time has helped ease the ache, her determination to be better for herself, to continue moving forward also helped start repairing the gaping hole Cody left in her heart.

Y/N smooths over her royal blue pantsuit, just a sliver of her stomach showing from where her shirt and pants split. Her heels are silver, only about three inches tall so she didn’t risk breaking her ankle. She felt good, put together. They had a show in a few hours here in Chicago and she wanted to make sure everything was perfect. With the Royal Rumble and Elimination Chamber coming up, she had to make sure everything was in order. That storylines were ready, qualifying matches went smoothly, and that confrontations got the necessary pop needed to bring more ratings to the show.

A knock at her office door pulls her attention. She barely glances up, gathering papers and checking something off her clipboard. “Come in.”

A small creak as Andrew steps in with a bouquet of dark dahlias and different assortments of darker flowers to accompany them. Y/N stops what she’s doing, a small smile taking over her face as he walks in. “Hey, what are you doing here?” She asks, rounding her desk to give him her undivided attention. “You’ve got at least forty-five minutes before call time.”

“I know,” Drew nods, his own smile forming. She looks good. The iconic SmackDown blue looked absolutely stunning on her. He could finally feel the warmth she always emanated coming back to her. She might not be fully at ease, but something definitely changed, and it was for the better. “But I figured I could come in a bit early and drop these off,” he gestures to the flowers in his hands. “I saw them and they reminded me of you.”

Drew holds out the bouquet and watches as Y/N’s eyes soften, the tension in her shoulders melting like ice under sunlight. She takes the flowers delicately from his big hands, lifting them to her nose to inhale the subtle, dark sweetness.

“These are beautiful, Drew. Dark dahlias?” she asks, voice bright with surprise. “You know those are my favorites, right?”

“Aye,” he says, a little smug, a lot fond. “I pay attention, lass. Not like some people.”

She lets out a real laugh at that, the kind that lights up her whole face — the kind Drew has been trying to coax out of her more often lately.

“Thank you. Really. They’re perfect.” She glances around her office — a pop of vibrant blue and black flowers now cradled against her crisp white shirt — and Drew follows her gaze.

His eyes catch on the trash can tucked behind her desk. He tilts his head, peering inside. A handful of other bouquets are stuffed down there, petals bruised, stems bent, satin ribbons half-crushed.

“Christ…” he mutters, flicking his eyes back up to her with a teasing glare. “You openin’ a funeral home I dinnae know about?”

Y/N huffs out an exasperated laugh, rolling her eyes as she carefully sets his flowers on her desk. “Yeah, I wish. Wanna guess who they’re from?”

Drew doesn’t need to guess. He’s heard enough voicemails and seen enough desperate texts flash across her screen during flights to know exactly who keeps trying to buy his way back in.

“Right,” he growls, his smile thinning. He crosses his arms, filling the room with protective heat. “One day he’ll learn you can’t fix a shattered heart with overpriced roses, eh?”

She watches him — the faint glint of possessiveness in his eyes, the stormy edge he only ever shows when he talks about Cody. It makes her stomach flutter in a way she’s still learning to trust again.

“Don’t worry,” she says, voice softer now. “I won’t let him manipulate me with pretty things. Not anymore.”

Before he can answer, there’s another knock. A young production assistant sheepishly pushes open the door, balancing yet another bouquet — white lilies this time, with a gold ribbon.

“Ms. L/N, um, delivery for you. Again.”

Y/N raises her brows, but Drew’s jaw ticks so hard she swears she hears his teeth grind.

“Just — here, give it,” she sighs, taking the arrangement with more annoyance than emotion. She marches it right past Drew, lifts the lid of her trash can, and drops the whole thing in without ceremony. The assistant stares wide-eyed. Drew just shakes his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his clenched fists.

“You’re a menace, lass.”

“I’m resourceful,” she corrects, smug. She turns back to him, plucking his bouquet from her desk and carefully arranging it in a clear vase she keeps for exactly this reason. “Yours stay. The rest? Garbage. I hate wasting pretty flowers — but I hate wasting myself more.”

Something flickers in Drew’s eyes then — respect, warmth, a fierce promise she knows he’ll keep whether she asks or not.

She places the vase next to her computer, the deep, inky blossoms standing proud and lovely against the mess of scripts and call sheets. It makes her office feel softer. Safer.

“There,” she declares, brushing her hands off like a job well done. “Now I can actually enjoy the ones that matter.”

He steps closer, lowering his voice so it wraps around her like a secret. “You deserve more than flowers, Y/N.”

She tilts her head at him, heart tripping a little at how sincere he looks. “You think so, huh?”

“Aye,” he says, his accent thicker now, eyes bright but steady. “Deserve more than what he gave ye. More than the scraps he left behind. Deserve someone who sees you. All of you.”

She swallows hard, her throat tight with something that feels dangerously like hope.

“Drew—”

But he breaks the moment with a boyish grin, his big hand coming to rest warm and wide on her hip — just for a heartbeat. “But we’ll save that talk for another day, aye? For now — come see me kick some arse kicked, will ye?”

She laughs, grateful for the tease. For the way he never pushes, never demands. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Did you get new gear?”

He puffs out his chest dramatically. “Custom made. Might show off a wee bit of thigh, just for you.”

“Oh, please,” she teases, rolling her eyes as her smile tugs wide and genuine. “Chicago’s not ready for that much pale Scottish leg.”

He laughs, rich and warm, and leans in just enough to press a feather-light kiss to her temple. It’s the kind of touch that asks nothing, but says everything.

Just then, another knock — but this time, a production hand calling for final checks.

Drew squeezes her hand once, rough thumb brushing her knuckles before letting go. “I’ll see you out there, (e/c) eyes.”

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N feels something like excitement in her chest instead of dread.

Flowers or not — she’s blooming again.

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Y/N walked through the halls of the backstage area with a newfound confidence in her step. She stopped, answering questions people had for her, telling people where they needed to be, sending her assistants to run out the freshly printed call sheets and scripts so the Superstars had enough time to adjust to the last minute changes.

“Ms. L/N, did you approve the pyro changes for Solo’s entrance?” one tech asked.

“Already done. Check your email. If it’s not there, come find me in Gorilla in ten,” she said, patting his arm before moving on.

Her assistant jogged up, slightly out of breath, handing her a fresh stack of call sheets hot off the press. Y/N flipped through them, making sure every name was where it should be, every cue tight.

“Go. Hand these to catering and props first. Then go track down creative in the truck — tell them I’ll sign off on the last run-through myself,” she instructed.

“Look at you, boss lady,” Tiffany teased, holding out one of the cups. “Vanilla sweet cream cold brew, extra shot — because I know you’ve been up since five.”

Y/N chuckled, taking it gratefully and letting the cold cup press into her palm. “You’re a lifesaver.”

They fell in step together as Y/N took a sip, her clipboard tucked under her arm and her fingers already shuffling through the new scripts Tiffany had spotted. She squints at all the papers, “More rewrites? Seriously?”

“Just minor stuff. Timing tweaks for Cody and Solo’s face-off, a promo change for Madeline,” Y/N said lightly, almost too breezy — the only hint she wasn’t as untouched as she pretended. “I want to deliver these myself.”

They turned the corner — and the warm ease in Y/N’s face flickered for a split second before snapping back into place.

There he was. Cody. Hood up, hunched forward on a production crate like he’d forgotten how to sit up straight. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks — haunted eyes rimmed red, a fading bruise on his cheek from Monday’s brawl still dark under the lighting. Next to him, perched so close she was practically breathing for him, Madeline leaned in, her voice syrupy and useless.

“Cody, so I was saying if we shift my entrance pyro it’ll—”

But he didn’t hear her. He only saw her — Y/N, bright and commanding, Tiffany laughing at her side, life and light he hadn’t touched in months. His heart stumbled in his chest at the easy warmth of her smile — even if it wasn’t for him anymore.

“Y/N—” He stood too fast, scripts nearly toppling from his lap.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. She stepped up, business-like but somehow painfully gentle — the softness that used to be just for him now cool and distant.

“Script updates,” she said, voice smooth as glass. She handed Madeline’s first, careful not to look at her longer than necessary, then turned to Cody — and this close, he could see the faint shimmer in her eyes. Not tears. Not anger. Just gone. The last tether between them, cut clean and professional.

“Kevin’s cue moved up by forty seconds. You’re hitting the final spot alone. Make sure you’re clear on your marks. Got it?”

He swallowed, trying to find words. “Y/N… can we—”

But she was already shifting away. “Don’t be late for your cue, Cody. We’re tight tonight.”

Her hand brushed his knuckles as she passed the paper to him, and for a heartbeat, he almost begged her — right there in the hallway — to forgive him. To despise him. To come home. Anything but this polite distance.

But she was gone, drifting back to Tiffany’s side. And before she and Tiffany could take two steps, Drew emerged from catering, all confident shoulders and that easy grin that used to be Cody’s trademark.

“Hey, lass,” Drew rumbled, the affectionate lilt just for her. He bent his head to greet her, the warm hush of his brogue low and private as Y/N’s smile bloomed wide — wider than the polite one she’d just given Cody.

He watched her lean into Drew’s side without thinking. Watched her tension dissolve, her laugh bubble up unguarded and real.

And it shredded him.

Beside him, Madeline tsked under her breath. “Pathetic. Look at her with him. Did you really think she’d sit around waiting for you to crawl back? She’s not stupid, Cody. Drew’s been there every second you weren’t.”

He shot her a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Shut up, Madeline.”

But she just lifted her chin, vicious in her hurt. “No, you shut up. You want to hate me, fine. But I didn’t make you ignore her. I didn’t make you chase ‘understanding’ when you had a woman who would’ve given her life to see you happy. She’s his now — maybe not officially, but soon. And guess what? He deserves her more than you ever did.”

He barely heard the rest. His eyes stayed locked on Y/N, laughing up at Drew, her clipboard forgotten as she gently swatted Tiffany for making some teasing comment. For a heartbeat, her head tilted back the way she used to with him — that soft, unguarded trust that once made him feel like a king.

His throat closed up. His hands shook around the script he suddenly didn’t care about.

He’d given that up for the cheap thrill of being understood by a girl who didn’t matter. And now he was a ghost at the edge of the warmth he once called home.

Madeline’s voice cut through the fog, sharp and final. “You’re gonna watch him win, Cody. And you won’t even be able to blame anyone but yourself.”

And for the first time, he didn’t argue. He just watched Y/N walk away with Drew — and understood that maybe losing her forever was the price for never seeing what he had right in front of him.

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The show was going well so far. They were about thirty minutes in and all of the changes have gone over smoothly. Y/N stands in Gorilla, closely watching one of the monitors as The Motor City Machine Guns finish their confrontation with DIY for the tag titles.

Y/N smiles at how well the promo is going, setting them up for their match at the rumble in a few weeks. The Machine Guns music hits and then they move to a quick commercial break.

The Machine Guns and DIY duck out of Gorilla, clapping each other on the back and thanking Y/N before heading off to peel off their tape and grab water. She watches them go, pride swelling in her chest as the next segment’s countdown pops onto the monitor.

“Alright, people, let’s tighten up!” she calls to the headset crew, shifting her clipboard under her arm. “Melo and Jimmy, you’re up next — five minutes to curtain, you hear me?”

A voice crackles back in her earpiece, “Copy that, boss lady.”

She grins at the nickname, jotting a quick note on her copy of the call sheet. She barely has time to check the next camera feed before a junior production runner — Justin, fresh out of Full Sail — jogs up beside her, slightly breathless and clutching a freshly printed call sheet that looks like it’s been triple-checked.

“Uh, Y/N? Can I…? Sorry—” he pants, then holds up the paper between them. “Am I losing my mind, or did the main event change? Because Kevin and Cody’s confrontation is showing up for the second hour, not the final segment. And then it says you’re… you’re closing the show? And that you’ll also be interrupting Madeline’s promo?”

Y/N lifts her brows innocently, the edge of her mouth twitching with mischief as she flips through her clipboard to her own master script. “Everything’s correct, Justin. Kevin and Cody are getting their thunder earlier tonight — they’ll still set up the Rumble spot. But I had something better in mind for the last twenty minutes.”

Justin squints at the new music cues highlighted near the bottom. Y/N L/N — entrance theme. His eyes flick between the paper and her, mouth falling open a little.

“But… you? Are you doing a promo? Or—”

She just shrugged, grin lazy but eyes sharp, cutting to the monitor where Madeline was in makeup getting final touches for her big moment.

“You’ll just have to wait and see with everyone else,” she said, brushing past him with a conspiratorial pat to his shoulder.

The crew member stared after her, slack-jawed, as she strode off — a woman on a mission. If only they knew:

She’d trained every sunrise, stayed late every night, took every test and pushed every boundary. She’d traded tears and blood and her own fear of stepping back into that ring — all for tonight.

Because tonight wasn’t just about running the show. Tonight, she was the show.

And Madeline had no idea what storm was about to hit her.

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Gorilla was buzzing with producers and road agents trying to keep the show tight, but Y/N hardly noticed any of it.

All she could see was him — Drew McIntyre — tearing the roof off the building with Damian Priest in the ring. The crowd roared with every power move, every lariat that rattled Damian halfway across the mat. Y/N didn’t even realize how close she was leaning to the monitor, lips parted in quiet awe.

Somewhere behind her headset, Jess murmured, “You’re drooling,” but Y/N just shushed her, never taking her eyes off the screen.

She adored watching him like this — untamed and commanding, every inch the Scottish warrior they built him to be but somehow still hers in the stolen moments between the chaos.

In the ring, Priest hit him with a South of Heaven chokeslam — only for Drew to kick out at two and a half. The entire arena popped as Drew rose, face storm-dark with resolve. Y/N bit back a grin when he hit the ropes, Claymore out of nowhere, nearly decapitating Damian clean.

The ref counted — one, two, three. The bell rang. The crowd lost its mind.

Backstage, Y/N let out the breath she’d been holding, her hands resting on her hips, a giddy laugh spilling out before she could help it. Drew’s music thundered through the monitors as he stood on the turnbuckle, roaring back at the fans, every bit the king they deserved.

Minutes later, the curtain parted — and there he was: sweaty, breathless, championship weight replaced by pure pride. He barely glanced at anyone else, ignoring the stagehands congratulating him as his eyes found only her.

She crossed her arms, trying to hide how she was beaming. “Took you long enough. I was about two seconds from getting in there myself.”

Drew wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with his wrist tape. “Oh, aye? That what you’d call it? A rescue mission?”

She cocked a brow. “Someone has to make sure you don’t embarrass us on live TV.”

His laugh rumbled out, warm and sharp as he crowded her space just a little — enough to make her pulse skip. “Darlin’, if you’re planning to wrestle again, at least warn me first. I’ll get you new gear. Something with my name on it.”

She smacked his arm, fighting a smile. “Yeah, because that’s the biggest problem with me jumping back in — the wardrobe.”

Drew didn’t flinch; he just looked at her with that impossible fondness that made her stomach do a foolish flip. “For what it’s worth, you’d look lethal in black and blue.”

She rolled her eyes, but the way her cheeks warmed betrayed her. “Stop. You did amazing out there. Seriously. You make this look easy.”

He dipped his head, voice softer now, just for her. “Means more coming from you than anybody else out there.”

Her breath caught, and she hated how easy it was — how easily he got under her skin, how easily she wanted him to. Before she could answer, a voice cut through:

“Yo, Drew! Interview in five!”

Drew held up a hand without tearing his eyes off her. “One sec!” Then, to her — “I’ll see you after?”

She nodded, fighting the grin tugging at her mouth. “Yeah. Go do your thing, superstar.”

He leaned in like he might kiss her temple — then seemed to think better of it, brushing a knuckle along her jaw instead. “Try not to fall for anyone else while I’m gone, eh?”

She gave him a pointed look, stepping back with a laugh. “You wish you were that irreplaceable.”

He only chuckled, shaking his head as he jogged off toward his next segment — leaving her behind with warmth in her chest she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Meanwhile, behind a stack of flight cases, Cody watched it unravel — the easy way she leaned in, the mischief in her grin, the way Drew looked at her like she was something precious. Something worth fighting for.

Once, that was him. And now he’d give anything to feel it again.

It wasn’t long before Madeline’s music hit. Her segment was next and Y/N couldn’t hide the small smirk that covered her face. She quickly hid it before anyone noticed as the newbie finished her journey to the ring.

Madeline strutted lazy circles in the middle of the canvas, her smug grin practically trademarked by now. The audience buzzed with a sour mix of jeers and half-hearted claps — the rookie’s arrogance had become a weekly irritation fans loved to hate.

She flicked her hair over her shoulder, mic propped under her chin, soaking in the cheap heat like it fueled her.

“Y’know what I love about SmackDown?” she purred, pacing closer to the ropes. “It’s my show now. I am the hottest thing to happen to this division since ever. And don’t get me wrong — Tiffany Stratton is cute. Blonde, marketable, all that. But we all know she’s not in my league. No one is. Not on Raw. Not on SmackDown. No woman in this company could even come close to my level of greatness.”

Corey Graves rolls his eyes, “Someone cut her mic, please. For my sanity.”

A few fans booed louder. Madeline mocked a pout, then flicked her wrist dismissively. “Aw, hush. You’ll thank me when I save you from another glittery promo about how ‘prettiest gets the belt’ or whatever. Unlike some people around here—” she paused dramatically, smirking toward the hard cam, “—I don’t hide in an office pretending to still be relevant.”

Michael Cole tenses along with the rest of the crowd, knowing exactly who she’s referring to. “Ohhh, she better watch herself now…”

Madeline leaned over the top rope, sneering at the front row. “Face it — this entire locker room is soft. The so-called ‘queen’ of SmackDown? Paper crown. No guts, no hustle, just riding old stories and bigger names to keep her paycheck fat. If she had any backbone left, she’d be standing right here with me—”

Graves shakes his head so aggressively that even the live audience who can’t hear what he’s saying know how much he disapproves. “Don’t say it, rookie. Don’t poke that bear.”

“—but we all know she doesn’t have the guts to lace up and do this anymore.”

The booing got loud enough she had to raise her voice. “So get comfy, people — because when I take that title off Tiffany? You’re gonna see what a real champ looks—”

BOOM!

The speakers cracked like thunder as the opening riff of “Welcome to the Jungle” ripped through the arena — a low, dangerous guitar that made spines straighten and the roof nearly fly off.

The tron flashed: Y/N — The Boss.

“OH MY GOD— WAIT A MINUTE— IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?!” Michael Cole practically leaps out of his seat, professionalism be damned.

The crowd erupted. Grown men leapt over each other for a glimpse as Y/N strode onto the stage — not in a business suit, but in her custom gear, hair down, eyes locked on Madeline like she’d found her next meal.

Corey stares on, jaw slack, “No way— no way. Nobody said she was cleared! She hasn’t wrestled in years!”

Y/N didn’t hurry. She high-fived fans along the ramp, pointed at a sign that read ‘Y/N RUNS THIS HOUSE’, and smirked when the camera caught the absolute chaos her mere presence caused.

Madeline’s eyes were saucers, all color draining from her face.

Cole’s chuckles manage to make their way to Y/N’s ears “Madeline just realized she booked herself a one-way ticket to hell.”

Y/N circled the ring once, savoring every second of the roar, then slid under the ropes and sprang to her feet like she’d never missed a day.

A stagehand tossed her a mic — she caught it midair without even glancing. She stepped close, so close Madeline flinched backward.

Her tone was soft, lethal:

“Hi, Maddie.”

Madeline swallowed, voice squeaking: “Wh-what are you doing? This isn’t your—”

Y/N leaned in, grin sharper than any blade: “Shhh. Let the grown-ups handle this.”

“I’m getting chills, Cole. Absolute chills.”

Y/N circled her prey, slow and deliberate, her words crisp enough to hush every seat in the arena. “You’ve spent weeks barking from this ring about what this roster lacks. How you’re its savior. How there’s nobody left with enough fire to put you in your place.”

She paused, tilting her head, eyes bright with mischief and venom both. “Well, princess — surprise. You ran your mouth so loud you woke up the one bitch who built the house that you’ve been stomping through like you own it.”

Madeline tried to cut in — Y/N flicked her hand dismissively, the crowd popping.

“You think I’ve been hiding? No. I’ve been working. Healing. Getting ready. And tonight? I’m not your boss. I’m not your headline. I’m not your cautionary tale. I’m your main event.”

The crowd exploded. Chants of “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” rattled the barricades.

Y/N stepped in close again, lowering her voice just enough to make every front-row fan lean in: “You want respect? You want my spot? Earn it. Because for one night only, doctor’s orders be damned — I’m cleared. And I’m gonna remind every single person here what happens when you mistake kindness for weakness.”

She flicked her mic to the mat with a satisfying clunk, never taking her eyes off Madeline’s horrified face.

“Main event. Me. You. And when I’m done? You’ll remember exactly who made this ring worth stepping into.”

Cole’s fist shoots in the air as he celebrates along with the crowd. “SHE SAID IT! Y/N IS FIGHTING TONIGHT! THE BOSS IS BACK, BABY!”

Y/N backed up, arms wide, a cocky grin blazing as she basked in the roar — then turned her back on Madeline with absolute, deliberate disrespect. She paused at the ropes just long enough to mouth to the nearest camera:

“Watch this.”

She dropped to the floor and strode up the ramp as Madeline scrambled to pick her jaw off the mat, the arena chanting her name like gospel.

The second Y/N stepped back through Gorilla, the world seemed to slam to a standstill.

Producers, camera crew, stagehands—everyone turned in a ripple of stunned silence, part disbelief, part raw, unfiltered awe. She didn’t pause to drink it in; she just handed off her mic to a frazzled assistant, gave a tight nod to a flustered producer whispering “Holy shit, you’re actually cleared?”, and kept moving down the hall like she’d just clocked out of a board meeting, not turned the main event upside down.

A familiar voice thundered down the corridor before she even rounded the next corner:

“Y/N! Lass—what the hell did ye just do?!”

Drew appeared out of nowhere, boots scuffing the floor as he skidded to a halt in front of her. He still had his match tape on one wrist, a half-crushed water bottle forgotten in his other hand. His eyes flicked wildly from her face to her ring gear to the crew peeking over crates behind her.

“Oh my God, Drew, breathe,” she teased, but the laughter in her chest trembled under the residual adrenaline.

“Breathe? Breathe?” He spluttered, voice thick with his rolling burr as he herded her a few steps out of earshot. “Woman, ye told me ye were doin’ segments tonight—segments, not headline brawls in front o’ fifteen thousand rabid maniacs screamin’ yer bloody name!”

She bit her lip, trying to suppress a giggle that slipped through anyway. “I mean… surprise?”

He gaped at her—then dragged a hand down his face, huffing a half-laugh half-growl. “Aye, surprise. Ye nearly gave me a heart attack, ye know that?”

He glanced around them, lowering his voice, eyes locked to hers with that earnest concern only he could pull off in a hallway full of chaos. “Y/N… ye can’t pretend this is nothin’. This is big, lass. It’s… it’s personal, aye? And that worries me.”

She softened, her fingertips brushing over the edge of his jaw, just enough to ground him. “Drew. It is personal. But it’s not reckless. I needed this. I needed this—me. Not for him. Not for anyone. Just to remind myself that I can still do this, that I’m not some sad story stuck behind a desk forever.”

His shoulders rose and fell with a frustrated exhale, but his hand came up, covering hers on his cheek. “I know. God, I know, darlin’. I just… ye know I hate seein’ ye hurt. And if I thought—”

She cut him off with a soft, crooked smile, leaning in to press her forehead gently against his chest. Her voice muffled against the cotton stretched over his solid heartbeat. “If you thought I was still tangled up in old ghosts? Drew… look at me.”

She tipped her head back up, catching the storm behind his eyes. Then she rose on her toes and pressed a quick, warm kiss to his cheek—just shy of his lips, deliberate, soft enough to steal his next breath.

“It’s you who makes me feel safe enough to do this,” she murmured. “It’s you I want waiting for me when I come back through Gorilla. Understand?”

His throat worked around her words; his free hand found the curve of her waist, big palm splayed wide like he could shield her from the whole damn world.

“Aye. I understand. Just… promise me ye come back in one piece, aye? So I don’t have to climb in there after ye and break every rule that was ever wrote.”

She barked out a laugh, high and bright, the tension crackling between them as warm as it was charged. “Deal, Big Man.”

He didn’t move when she started to step away—his hand lingered at her hip, thumb rubbing a quiet circle that made her heart squeeze in a way she hadn’t felt in too long.

Then, over his shoulder, she caught a flicker of movement: Cody Rhodes, half-hidden behind a curtain of crates, eyes locked to hers and Drew’s hands on her body. Regret carved into every exhausted line of his face.

She met Cody’s stare for half a heartbeat—then turned her back on him without another thought, her focus already on Drew again.

“Go on, then,” Drew rumbled, a wicked gleam returning to his eyes. “Go show the wee gremlin what happens when ye poke a lioness.”

She winked, curling her fingers around his wrist for one last squeeze, and as her good friend Liv Morgan always says, “Watch me.”

And she slipped away, her grin sharp and sure, leaving a smitten Scottish giant watching her like she’d hung the stars herself—while a man who’d once held her heart realized he’d lost far more than he could ever win back.

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The arena lights dipped low as Madeline’s theme hit — glittery pop with an edge, echoing her cocky rookie swagger.

But tonight, something was off. She stepped out onto the stage with her usual smirk, soaking in the half-boos, half-hyped reactions... but there was a twitch at the corner of her mouth that betrayed her nerves.

She’d read the updated run sheet — MAIN EVENT: MADELINE vs. ??? — but not even in her wildest nightmares had she pictured this.

Her eyes darted toward the ring crew, the commentary desk, anywhere but the curtain behind her. She jogged down the ramp anyway, tossing her hair, climbing into the ring with a forced flick of confidence.

She perched herself on the second rope, rolling her wrists, her pretty mask of smug confidence pulled too tight to hide the jitter in her eyes. She glanced once more at the ramp as the ref checked her boots — but no amount of pep talk could steady the quiver in her gut. The rumors said Y/N hadn’t wrestled since she broke her back all those years ago. There was no way she’d risk it for her. Right?

Then the arena lights dropped to a simmering hush — a single beat of silence before the familiar guitar riff hits the speakers like a thunderclap.

Thousands of people lost their minds at once.

Y/N walked out through the blinding spotlight, a storm wrapped in gear she’d sworn she’d never wear again. No one in that building — no producer, no script, no roster sheet — had this on their rundown. Only she did. And it was hers alone to give.

Michael Cole’s voice rose above the thunder of the fans: “Corey, this is happening — the boss, the heartbeat of SmackDown, is stepping back in the ring after so many years on the shelf—”

Corey Graves could barely be heard over the roar. “And with a broken back in her history, Cole! This is insane. This is reckless. This is... God, this is perfect!”

Y/N didn’t jog or grandstand. She stalked to the apron with a single-minded focus, pausing only to slap palms with fans pressed against the barricade, one little girl bursting into tears when Y/N bent low to ruffle her hair. She hit the apron, locked eyes with Madeline, and vaulted over the ropes so smooth you’d think gravity liked her best.

Madeline’s mouth moved around a curse, but the bell rang before she could find words.

They circled. Slowly at first — an unspoken dare between two women who couldn’t be more different: one all bluster and borrowed status, the other forged in agony and years of lost time.

Madeline lunged first, predictable and sloppy. Y/N side-stepped, spun on her heel, and whipped her into an arm drag so clean it drew cheers all by itself. Madeline popped up only to catch a stiff forearm to the jaw — then another. Y/N forced her into the corner and lit her up with a machine gun flurry: elbow, elbow, backfist, snap kick to the gut.

Corey barked through a grin, “Look at her move, Cole! There’s absolutely no ring rust in sight! No hesitation — she’s calling every second in real time!”

Madeline, in a flash of desperation, raked her eyes. The crowd booed viciously as she yanked Y/N into a DDT attempt — but Y/N twisted free, rebounded off the ropes, ducked under a wild clothesline and slammed a running knee flush against Madeline’s cheekbone. The rookie crumpled to her back, dazed.

Cole nearly wheezed into his mic. “This is a masterclass — years out, and she’s teaching the kid what it means to fight for your life!”

Backstage, Drew McIntyre stood stone still beside the curtain, arms folded so tight his knuckles blanched. There was a tremble in the corner of his mouth — equal parts pride and pure dread. Not far away, alone in the shadows, Cody Rhodes leaned against a crate, hollow-eyed, watching the woman he’d once called home carve her legacy back open without him.

Madeline crawled for the ropes, desperate to bail. Y/N was on her before she could think — grabbing a handful of hair, whispering something venom-soft against her ear that turned the girl’s face to stone. Then she hurled her halfway across the ring with a snap suplex, the canvas rattling under the impact.

Madeline tried to swing wildly again, panic in every twitch. Y/N ducked, scooped her up across her shoulders in one smooth deadlift. The crowd rose to their feet as realization spread like fire.

Corey’s voice cracked. “She won’t— that’s her spine, Cole—”

She did.

Y/N planted her boots, hoisted Madeline’s dead weight, and spun into a rolling Death Valley Driver so clean the front row physically recoiled. Madeline bounced off her shoulder, hit the mat hard, and flopped to her stomach.

Cole could barely be heard: “She said she wanted closure — this is surgical, Corey. This is personal.”

The arena rumbled with the pulse of thirty thousand stomping feet, chanting her name like gospel.

Y/N didn’t waste time. She hauled Madeline up by her wrist — no wasted words, no mercy. She spun her in tight, hooked both arms behind her back in a butterfly clutch, then lifted and twisted, driving her into the mat with a vicious corkscrew sit-out driver that rattled the ring ropes.

Corey all but screamed: “EULOGY DRIVER! THE EULOGY DRIVER! COVER HER, Y/N—”

She did.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rang so sharp it sounded like a starter pistol, but no one moved except Y/N. She stayed sitting for a heartbeat, chest heaving, hair damp and sticking to her neck — staring at her own hands like she wasn’t sure she’d ever get to feel them do this again.

The ref grabbed her wrist and hoisted it high, but she was already rising, climbing the second rope and bracing one boot on the turnbuckle. She scanned the ocean of faces and pointed at her heart — once, twice — then out at them.

Drew backstage pounds his palm against the wall and laughing through gritted teeth, relief and awe tangled on his face.

Cody sank down against the crate he’d been leaning on, hands buried in his hair, a man watching every ounce of warmth he’d thrown away return stronger without him.

Back in the ring, Y/N stood on the ropes, a storm in human form, a lesson in survival and rebirth — living proof you don’t bury a woman like her.

Not while she still breathes.

She could still hear the final three-count echoing in her bones. Madeline had crawled out of the ring minutes ago, battered and shell-shocked, escorted by medics who barely bothered to hide their smirks.

But Y/N didn’t see any of it anymore.

She stood alone under the blinding white of the spotlight, chest rising and falling, strands of hair sticking to her sweat-slicked cheeks. The ref pressed her championship mic into her palm — the house lights dimmed except for one golden beam that followed her as she stepped to the center of the ring.

The noise was deafening, but somehow she found a hush in her chest big enough to fit every word she’d carried for years.

She brought the mic to her lips, voice still rough from grit and adrenaline.

"I know what some of you are thinking," she began, pacing a slow, deliberate circle so the whole building felt her eyes on them. "Why risk everything for this? Why fight tonight, when the doctors told me I'd never walk right again, let alone run these ropes?"

The crowd roared — YOU STILL GOT IT! chants bouncing off the rafters like thunder. She cracked the smallest grin, eyes glassy, soaking it in.

"I spent years telling myself the same things you told me: that I was better off behind a desk. Safer. Smarter. That this — this ring, this life — was something I could just bury under paperwork and fancy suits."

Her voice caught for a heartbeat, just enough to draw the entire arena closer.

"But the truth? The truth is... I was scared."

A ripple of silence fell, so heavy it almost hurt to stand in it.

"I was scared I wasn’t enough anymore. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not worth enough." She laughed, bitter but free, as if she couldn’t believe she’d ever been so small in her own mind. "I let people decide what I deserved. I let one person make me forget who I was — not just in here, but out there too. And I won’t do that again."

Drew backstage was frozen mid-breath, eyes shining in a way no man that big should ever let people see. Somewhere off to the side, Cody buried his face in his hands, shouldering the truth in front of millions.

Back in the ring, Y/N planted her boots firm against the canvas, lifted her chin, and looked straight down the lens like she was staring right at every person who’d ever lost themselves.

"So hear me when I say this — whether you love me, hate me, or don’t know my damn name: Never let anyone decide your worth. Not your boss. Not your family. Not the person you share a bed with. Because the second you do, you forget how to stand alone."

She jabbed a finger into her own chest, voice rising above the roar.

"I broke my back. I lost everything I thought made me… me. And tonight? I took it all back — not for them. Not for him. For me."

The audience was on their feet now, stomping, screaming, some wiping tears they’d never admit to.

She lifted her free hand, palm open, showing the hard lines and faint tremble of a fighter reborn.

"This is proof. Proof you can fall apart, and build yourself back better. Proof you can lose yourself, and find a version so unstoppable, they’ll wish they’d buried you deeper."

Her grin sharpened, that old spark back like a wildfire behind her eyes.

"I’m not your victim. I’m not your boss tonight. I’m not your heartbreak or your pity story. I’m the woman who survived the worst days of her life— and walked back in here on her own two feet to remind you that you can too."

She paused, let the storm of cheers crash over her, then added one last promise, quiet but razor-sharp.

"And if you ever forget it—" She smirked, a dare in her teeth. "You know where to find me. I’ll remind you every damn time."

She dropped the mic at her feet, the final thud swallowed by the roar of her people — their people. She threw her arms wide to the sky, every vein alive with the ache and the triumph of being enough.

Somewhere just beyond the barricade, a kid lifted a hand-painted sign that read simply: “She’s Still Here.”

And she was.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Backstage felt like a living heartbeat the second she stepped through the curtain.

Crew members clapped her on the shoulder as she passed, a few newer recruits beaming like kids who’d just met their favorite superhero. A veteran ref barked, “Hell of a return, boss — didn’t think you had that left in ya!”

Y/N just laughed, breathless, raw in the best way. She let them slap her back, let them tell her she hadn’t lost her edge — and deep down, for the first time in years, she actually believed it.

Her eyes found Drew first. He stood just beyond the crowd, arms crossed, looking equal parts awed and ready to wrap her up in bubble wrap forever. But beside him, half-shadowed near a stack of flight cases, was Cody.

He looked out of place, older than he’d looked an hour ago. His hoodie was still up, but it couldn’t hide the bare grief on his face. The second her eyes met his, something old and splintered twisted in her chest — but it didn’t drag her down this time.

She knew what she had to do.

She offered Drew an apologetic smile, soft and fleeting, before she angled toward the man she’d once thought she’d grow old with.

Cody straightened, like he’d been bracing for this moment and failing miserably all the same. His lips parted, no words ready.

She beat him to it, voice gentle but firm. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His throat bobbed. “You— you were incredible out there. You always are.”

She huffed a small laugh, tired and tender. “Thanks.”

A beat. His hands flexed helplessly at his sides. “I… I’ve been trying to find the words for weeks. I don’t even know where to start. I—”

“You don’t have to.” She didn’t mean to cut him off so gently, but her heart wouldn’t let her do it cruelly. Not to him. Not after everything.

“I do, though,” he insisted, eyes pleading, rimmed red. “I messed up, Y/N. God, I messed up so bad. I thought… I thought you’d always be there. I thought what I felt for you couldn’t fade — but I forgot how to show you. And now—”

She stepped in, close enough to smell the same shampoo she’d bought for him, back when they were a home and not strangers.

“Cody…” Her voice cracked but didn’t break. “A part of me will always belong with you. You know that, right? I thought you and me… we were it. The forever kind.”

A breath caught in his chest — agony and hope tangled together.

“But…” She swallowed, forced herself to say it. “I can’t do forever with someone I don’t trust. I can’t give you everything when I know deep down I’d never believe I was enough again. I’d question every smile. Every late flight. Every new face. And you don’t deserve that, Cody. Neither of us do.”

His mouth opened but nothing came out. So she kept going — she had to.

“You want me to believe you’d never stop loving me again. But I can’t. Because I know now you can. And I can’t spend the rest of my life bracing for when it happens next.”

A flicker of defiance flared in his eyes. “You think he won’t screw up? That he’s perfect? He’ll let you down too—”

She laughed, low and sad, cutting him off with a shake of her head. “Drew’s not perfect. God knows he drives me insane. But he listens. He notices. He doesn’t flinch when I break apart. And he never makes me question if I’m enough. Even when he’s angry, I feel safe with him. When’s the last time I felt safe with you, Cody?”

He had no answer. His jaw worked silently before he rasped, “So that’s it? He wins?”

She stepped closer, voice gentle but unyielding. “No. I win. Because I chose myself for once. He didn’t win me — I’m not some prize. He’s just… here. Steady. If he stays, he stays. If he goes, I’ll still be whole.”

He followed her gaze over her shoulder. Drew waited, pretending not to stare but failing miserably — protective and patient, a stone fortress with soft eyes only for her.

And for Cody, it all clicked. The way she stood taller now. The way she smiled more. The way she didn’t shrink from her own worth anymore.

He swiped at his tired eyes. “You deserve that. All of that. I should’ve… God, I should’ve seen you before I lost you.”

A ghost of that old warmth passed over her face. “A part of me will always wish you had. But I’m done building homes in people who don’t know how to hold them. I hope you find peace, Cody. Real peace. Not just someone to fill the silence.”

He laughed, a broken exhale. “And him? He’ll give you that?”

She looked at Drew again, really looked. “I hope so… but if he doesn’t… I’ll be fine. Because now, I know I can stand on my own.”

Cody’s eyes glistened with defeat and reluctant gratitude. He laid a palm over his heart like he could hold her ghost there forever. “Tell him… tell him thank you. For taking care of you the way I should have.”

She squeezed his arm once, soft but final. “Tell him yourself someday. I think you two could stand to be friends again.”

And then she stepped back, leaving Cody to his ghosts and regrets — and walked toward the man who’d been her soft place to land when everything else burned.

Drew didn’t ask what was said. He just opened his arms and let her melt against his chest, his voice rumbling in her hair: “You good, sweetheart?”

She smiled, eyes misty but sure. “Yeah. For the first time in a long time… I really am.”

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The hotel lobby hummed with the usual late-night shuffle of staff and a few bleary-eyed travelers dragging luggage, but for Y/N, Drew, and Jess, it felt like walking through a bubble — safe, glowing, almost dreamlike after the adrenaline of the show.

Y/N’s hoodie was zipped to her chin, hiding the ring gear still peeking out at her hips. Her hair was damp from the quickest post-match shower of her life, and she looked fresh-faced and tired all at once — but alive in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

Jess kept glancing between her and Drew like she was watching the final scene of her favorite slow-burn movie. She nudged Y/N’s shoulder, unable to hold back her grin.

“Seriously, I’m never gonna shut up about tonight,” Jess said, hugging the catering coffee cup she’d snagged on the way out. “Seeing you in the ring like that… it was everything. I used to sit on my bedroom floor in my mom’s old T-shirts pretending I was you.”

Y/N laughed, nudging her back. “Well, now you get to see the chaos up close, so be careful what you wish for.”

Drew barked a laugh beside them. “Chaos? Nay. That was art. Ye made her look like a fool and kept yer back intact. If I wasn’t already terrified of ye, I’d be now.”

Jess snorted. “Speak for yourself, Highlander. I’m still scared of her.”

Y/N shoved her lightly. “You’re scared of spiders, Jess.”

They reached the elevator, waiting as it hummed down. Jess peeked at the glowing floor numbers and sighed dramatically. “Ugh, my room’s like five floors up from you two. Who did the booking this week, Satan?”

“Blame the travel office,” Y/N deadpanned, then she hugged Jess, squeezing tight enough to feel the younger woman’s giggle against her shoulder. “Go sleep, you menace. And hey — thank you. For everything tonight. You’re a pain in my ass but you’re my pain in the ass.”

Jess smirked, eyeing Drew pointedly over Y/N’s head. “You take care of her tonight, okay, big man? She’s got a bad habit of bottling things up and pretending she’s titanium.”

Drew, without missing a beat, rumbled, “She’s no titanium. She’s diamond. But aye — I’ll mind her. Off ye pop.”

Jess made an exaggerated “aww” face, then waved them off as the elevator dinged open, carrying her to her own floor and leaving the two of them alone in the hush of the hallway.

The walk to their rooms was slow, both dragging their feet like neither wanted to reach the inevitable parting. Drew carried her overnight bag even though she’d protested twice.

“You know you don’t have to baby me, right?” Y/N teased as they turned the corner toward the quieter wing of the hotel.

Drew glanced down at her, amused. “Oh, lass, I’ve seen ye suplex a woman half yer age. I ken ye don’t need me tae carry yer bag. But let me, aye? Humor me. Makes me feel useful.”

She laughed under her breath. “You’re more than useful. You’re… you’re too good to me sometimes.”

Drew glances at her, his eyes softening as they met hers. “Ye say that like ye don’t deserve it. Like it’s a favor, treatin’ ye well.”

Y/N didn’t respond, just a small smile being painted across her lips. They ended up pausing at a vending machine; Drew eyed the options like he was solving an ancient riddle.

“You know you’re not actually hungry,” she teased, folding her arms.

“Aye, but I like pretendin’ I am. Stalls the moment I have tae say goodnight.”

She laughed softly, nudging his hip with hers. “You’re a sap.”

“And you love it,” he fired back, eyes sparkling as he finally gave up on the vending machine entirely. He shouldered her bag again without asking and resumed the slow stroll down the quiet hallway.

Y/N caught herself studying the veins in his forearms, the gentle slope of his nose, the little cut near his eyebrow still taped from tonight’s match. It made her chest ache, sweet and sharp at the same time.

“You were brilliant tonight,” Drew murmured, breaking her quiet inspection. “At Gorilla, I kept thinkin’… ‘That’s her. That’s the woman I’ve always seen — even when she couldn’t see it herself.’”

Her steps faltered; her throat worked around a knot. “Drew…”

“Nay, lemme say it. Ye were more than brilliant. You were fearless. Brave. And I don’t mean just in the ring — though, you nearly gave me a heart attack with that suplex— but afterwards. The way you spoke, the way you owned what was yers. I can’t tell ye what that did tae me.”

She smiled shyly, fighting the burn behind her eyes. “You’re making me blush, Galloway.”

He lifted a hand, brushing his knuckles across her cheek. “Good. Ye should. You deserve to feel worshipped a bit more often.”

The warmth in her gut tangled with something like fear — fear of messing this up, of leaning on someone again, of letting herself need him too much too soon. She caught his hand, squeezing it as she pressed it to her cheek.

“Drew… I just– I need you to know that I don’t want to run from one thing straight into another. I gave everything to someone who… who didn’t know what to do with it. I can’t do that again — not to you, not to me.”

His thumb traced her temple, tender. “Then don’t. I’ll wait. I’ll be whatever ye need me tae be. Friend, shoulder, bodyguard. Hell, I’ll carry yer bags forever if it means I get tae walk beside ye like this.”

Her breath hitched — a tiny, startled sound she barely managed to muffle with a quiet laugh. “How are you real?”

He shrugged one shoulder, playful, but his eyes were earnest. “Not real, love. Just yours. Whenever ye want me.”

She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, feeling his heartbeat under her palm where it pressed against his chest. The hallway was so quiet she could hear their breaths mingling.

Then, a whisper: “I do want you. More than you know. Just… let me want you slow. Let me get this right.”

His mouth curved into a promise and his hand slid to cradle the back of her neck, reverent. “Aye. Slow. Careful. No rush. But right now—” His voice dropped, warm and husky as the edge of dawn. “Right now, I need tae kiss ye, lass. Tell me no and I’ll stop.”

She opened her eyes, let him see all the gratitude, the fear, the hope glimmering behind them. She didn’t say no.

Instead, she pushed up on her toes and found his mouth with hers — soft, searching at first, then deeper, her fingers twisting in the collar of his hoodie as if she could memorize the feel of him this way. Drew sighed into it, a low rumble that made her whole body lean closer.

When they parted, breathless, their foreheads stayed pressed together. She giggled, cheeks flushed, voice raw but happy.

“Okay. So much for slow, huh?”

His grin was boyish and so heartbreakingly gentle. “Ach, we’ll pace ourselves tomorrow. Tonight… tonight I just wanted tae know how ye taste when ye choose me.”

She gave him a playful shove, still tucked safe inside the circle of his arms. “Spoiler alert — pretty sure I like you, Galloway. There’s nobody else I’d want to pick.”

He chuckled low in his throat, brushing his lips across her temple. “Aye. Good. Because next time? I’m not askin’ permission.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, light and mischief dancing in her own. “I can’t wait.”

In that moment — hallway, exhaustion, adrenaline and all — they both knew: whatever pace they set, they were already exactly where they were supposed to be.

[andy-clutterbuck]

TWD - Inside 8x07

[bulletbilltime]

I'm so sane. Only sane people think about "Life is Strange but isekai'd into Paper Mario TTYD". I'm so sane I swear.

[damiansgoodgirll]

OK I found it! (No rush what’s so ever BUT!)

(During Roman’s tribal chief era.)

!Female Reader always had a crush on Roman, but was always too scared to ask him out.

One night during a match Kevin Owens costs her the match, (kinda like how Dom cost Raquel that one time) (you can pick between who ever is on the smackdown roster to have reader up against but it’s also not really required if you don’t want to.)

And basically the bloodline, mainly Roman goes to readers rescue, cause beef with Kevin.

(I know it’s not really…LIKE Roman to do something like that because he’s the tribal chief, but I feel like it would be a nice concept idea.)

Idk just fluff and adorable and what ever cause Roman… LMAO.

sorry it took me so long writing this but i’ve never written for roman and i had no idea on how to start 😭 i hope you like it + the timeline doesn’t really exist here lol

roman reigns x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated

‼️nothing major, hurt/comfort, angry roman, some fluff too, kevin owens is mean here sorry

my weakness

everyone loved roman. yes, he played the big mean guy part and he was definitely good at it but deep down you knew that he cared. he cared for his family, his cousins, the fans, he even cared about his opponents while in the ring. deep down you knew he had a big heart and he was a kind person who pretended to be the bad one.

and maybe it was because of his big mean yet kind personality you caught feelings for him.

it’s not that you were big friends - you had a closer relationship with the usos and your shy personality made it harder for you to get to know him better.

but there were times when you and roman spent some time alone. at the gym, training before a big match or backstage, his presence was nice and even if you didn’t speak much, you enjoyed being around him even if the only present sound was the silence.

unbeknownst to you, roman always admired you. he adored your quite presence. when everyone was noisy around him, he found comfort in your silence. your presence was enough for him.

and his admiration for you didn’t go unnoticed backstage but everyone kept quiet, too scared the tribal chief would get mad if someone said something and they know better to not upset him.

all the locker room knew about that. the saw how roman was nice in your presence but mean with everyone else and even if it made you laugh, you never thought more about that.

even if you had no real beef with anymore backstage, somehow kevin picked you as a main target just to made roman even angrier.

it was going all good on friday night smackdown and you had a match against tiffany - if you won over her, you would get a title shot against nia and after being in the industry for over five years with little to no titles opportunities, you were ready to take it all.

it was your moment to shine, to prove everyone that you deserved to be the women’s champion.

what you didn’t see coming was kevin owen running towards the ring the moment you almost pinned tiffany. you almost had it. but you got distracted by him running and tiffany saw that as an opportunity to stand up and hit you in the back.

you were kinda surprised to see kevin there, why was he even there? he barely talked with you backstage and you pretty sure he wasn’t there to help tiffany as he had no business with her either.

feeling pain in your back, you tried to take back control inside the ring but when kevin got closer to the metal stairs, you and the blonde woman both turned your head towards him.

“what are you doing?” you almost screamed, definitely irritated that he was there to ruin your moment “get down kevin…”

but he stood there, watching the way you and tiffany kept fighting. for the second time that night you had the chance to pin tiffy down but you were too close to the cords and nonchalantly kevin put tiffany’s leg over them.

“what the heck! kevin!” you screamed, even angrier now. you were pretty sure you did him no harm so why was he ruining your moment like that?

at this point you were tired and in pain. kevin was trying to sabotage you and you didn’t know if you had the strength to pin tiffany down for a third time.

meanwhile backstage roman was getting ready for his interview later that night and he had no idea what was happening in the ring. he knew you had a match and he was dying to see it but jimmy forced him to repeat his lines for the interview and he was missing all of your match, until jey came to the tribal chief private locker room and asked him if he knew why was kevin ruining your moment.

roman scrunched his nose, trying to elaborate what his cousin just told him “what did you say?” his tone hard.

“kevin is costing y/n’s title opportunity man, i didn’t even know those two had beef” jey uso repeated.

his words making roman’s blood boil “they don’t” he simply said before he left his changing room.

you fought with every single bone in your body. your head was spinning, your back was killing you and you were tired but you wanted that title opportunity so you kept fighting and for the third time that night you had the chance to pin tiffany down, only for kevin to grab you by the leg and drag your body away from the blonde one.

you couldn’t understand. you really couldn’t.

was it in the script and no one told you?

was your career so pathetic that superiors wanted you out of any title opportunity and instead of telling you, they sent kevin?

your mind was spinning so fast and even faster when your teary eyes met kevin’s eyes. somehow you knew he felt guilty about what he was doing to you and yet he kept going on, dragging your body out of the ring.

you had no strength left so you laid there, hearing the bell ringing, letting tiffany win, and you lose, again.

the crowd erupted in boos, especially since everyone was waiting for your match and cheering for you.

you still laid there, trying to catch your breath again when you suddenly heard the crowd going apeshit.

a very mad roman reigns was running towards kevin owens and punched him right in the face. you quickly stood up, surprised he was even there.

you stood by the ring, a hand behind your back as you tried to catch your breath once again. jimmy and jey coming to your rescue as you all watched roman dragging kevin inside the ring “your beef is with me, now with her…you’re gonna pay for this” he whispered, almost as a promise before leaving the ring.

the crowd was cheering, thinking that it was all part of a script and some even thought that you were going to join the bloodline but you honestly had no idea what was happening.

you saw roman waking towards you, his eves never leaving your body “you okay?” he asked but you were too confused that didn’t even answer “let’s get you backstage…” and for the first time you saw the twins walking in front of him as. roman’s hand gently moved to your back as he helped you walking away from the scene.

medical staff checked you out and luckily you had nothing broken. you were just in a big uncomfortable pain.

roman brought you to his changing room, telling jey and jimmy to go somewhere else as he wanted to speak with you - alone.

“are you okay y/n?” he asked once you sat down on his couch.

“yeah, i think so…” your voice trembled. you definitely weren’t okay. you didn’t even know what happened in the last thirty minutes. your brain couldn’t comprehend it.

“you’re not okay…come here” he gently sat next to you and engulfed you in his big arms. you didn’t even realise you started crying. soft whimpers left your body as roman stroked his hand over your back “kevin is gonna pay for what he did” he said with stern voice.

you looked up at him, quickly wiping your tears away “i don’t think i’ve ever been mean or rude to him, why would he cost me the only title opportunity i’ve been given in five years?” you said mostly to yourself.

“because of me…” roman didn’t want to confess. he didn’t want to ruin the little friendship you two had.

your look quite confused “you?”

“yeah me…” he took a deep breath “because the men in the locker room know…”

“they know what?” you couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“that you’re my weakness…” he tried to avoid your look as you watched him with big eyes “you’re my weakness, i never felt like this and they know it…they know i have feelings for you but no one ever said anything…except for kevin, who thought that ruining your moment was okay…he did it because of me, he probably feels like shit knowing that he fucked you up but he got my reaction, he pissed me off and that was his goal” he exhaled once he was finished.

you stayed there, trying to assemble what roman just told you. he liked you, kevin used you to piss roman off and roman defended you, because, again, he had feelings for you.

“you have feelings for me?” you whispered, fearing that if you said it out loud it would have been fake.

“yes…”

“you, the roman reigns, the tribal chief, you have feelings for me?” you whispered again, making roman chuckle this time “am i dreaming? that’s the only possible explanation, i am dreaming…”

his strong voice chuckled again “i promise you that you’re more than awake…”

“why didn’t you say anything about it? we could have avoided a lot of silence conversations…” you asked.

“because i didn’t know, i still don’t know what the outcome of my confession is…i didn’t want to lose you and in all honesty i loved being in your silent comforting presence” he smiled, making you smile back.

you looked at him, trying to find any sign that he was lying but when you find none, you moved closer to rest your lips upon his bigger ones. it was a soft kiss, the both of you testing the waters.

“this would have been the outcome if you told me earlier…” you whispered against his lips, making him laugh.

the title opportunity long forgotten when roman gently moved you over his lap and deepened the kiss.

“i can’t believe you like me…” you whispered, too stunned to believe what just happened.

“i’ve been liking you since you joined the roster…i should have said something earlier…” he said softly while his hand softly stroked your cheek “but i’m glad i did it now…” he kissed you back feeling you smile against his lips.

after a couple of minutes of softly making out, you both got distracted by the twins knocking on roman’s door.

“not now” he said, a stern voice while you tried not to laugh.

“we just wanted to remind you of the interview…” jimmy voice said and you felt romantic scoffing, clearly annoyed to be doing that interview.

“i’ll be out in five” he screamed back and began to kiss you again when he felt the twins walking away from his locker room.

“as much as i love this, you have work to do…” you reminded him, getting an annoyed look by him.

moving back to sitting on the couch, you let roman getting ready as you admired him. he smirked feeling your look on him, especially when you tried to look away.

“i promise you, you’ll get your title opportunity back and no one will interfere this time, you have the bloodline protection, that’s a promise” he said, promising you.

of course you believed him - you knew how important he was in the game and he knew that if he asked hunter for a little favour, he wouldn’t say no.

“once i’m done with my interview, i’ll come back here and then we’ll finish what we started, back at my hotel” he smirked again before leaving the room.

you watched him leave, not being able to answer back. your mouth agape at the idea of spending even more time with roman - maybe, after all, it wasn’t a bad night.

[soullesssenpai]

meet the righteous wrestlers: bayley

hi d20 fans! as both a ttrpg lover and a wrestling fan, I thought it would be fun to do mini-histories for each of the righteous wrestlers appearing in titan takedown! I did a little poll and none other than BAYLEY had the most votes, so I'll be starting with her!

disclaimer: wrestling has a lot lot of silly terms! that jess ross presentation is, of course, a great primer, but I'll try to explain words as they pop up. when in doubt, assume any "heat" (aka beef) between wrestlers is purely fictional, and all these folks like each other when the cameras aren't rolling, even if they hit hard in the ring :) BAYLEY !!!!!

bayley (no last name) aka pamela martinez, is from san jose (she's from the Bay Area, hence the name "bay-ley") and has been wrestling with wwe since 2012, and is one of the most decorated women in the company's history. she's the first triple crown winner and women's grand slam winner in wwe history, which means she's been the first to hold a fuckton of titles (including the NXT women's championship, raw women's championship, smackdown women's championship, women's tag titles (but we'll get to that) and wwe women's championship) as well as winning money and the bank and the royal rumble, two of wwe's most important pay per views.

*sidenote, as you will learn, wwe has so many titles that go through so many arbitrary name and brand switches. it is kind of a headache to try and keep track of them all, especially without a working knowledge of what shows existed and when.

wrestlers cycle through characters/personalities (called "gimmicks") for their in-ring personas, and when bayley debuted, she had a "hugger" gimmick — a high ponytail, bows and headbands, bright colors, inflatable balloon people, the whole nine years. think jojo aiwa, but endearing and like-able. she was bubbly, she was happy, she was squeaky-clean and very kiddish in a sea of divas, and a very athletic performer to boot. she eventually nagged her first title, the nxt women's championship, in an iconic match with her longtime rival and real-life best friend sasha banks, who played the mean girl to Bayley's lovable underdog. if you've only got time to watch one match in Bayley's career, this one wouldn't be a bad choice:

As Bayley's career progressed and she continued to rise, she made it to the main roster, eventually ditching the ponytail and inflatable dancing guys (in a very iconic segment where she destroyed the bayley buddies) and going from a "face" (good guy) to a "heel" (a bad guy). New, edgier bayley continued to win titles and maintain an on-again-off-again friendship with Sasha Banks, which included a gruesome hell in a cell match during the "off" part and a women's tag team championship reign in the "on" parts. they were called "boss n hug connection" as tag champs, which isn't an important detail, but a stupid one. this video of bayley and sasha on commentary is a good encapsulation of their friendship outside the ring.

Bayley and Sasha are also part of an unofficial group called the 'four horsewomen' of wwe: four influential women's wrestlers who all came up in nxt at the same time and helped WWE take women's wrestling's more seriously. the other two horsewomen are Charlotte Flair (daughter of ric flair, for those who watched the jess ross video), and becky lynch, my favorite wrestler of all time.

But the four horsewomen isn't Bayley's only wrestling girl gang: she also started her own stable (wrestling group), recruiting Dakota Kai and Iyo Sky to form Damage CTRL, a heel faction whose hobbies mostly consisted of running around jumping people backstage. their formation at SummerSlam was a very gaggy moment. Damage CTRL were menaces and they made everybody's lives a nightmare, and Bayley was having a blast until IYO and Dakota ultimately brought other members into the fold, and the group turned on her.

Nowadays, Bayley is back to being a babyface (having learned her lesson with Damage CTRL) and is working on mending fences (in wrestling story) with the other women on the roster, namely Bianca Belair. Overall, because of her insanely decorated WWE run, her veteran status on the roster, her dedication to the art of wrestling, and her general chill, good vibes, Bayley is both a fan-favorite and a locker room leader in WWE.

I thiiiink that's all the big stuff, but wrestling fans, feel free to sound off in the replies if I'm missing any big stuff! If people want more, I think next up will be either Xavier woods or Chelsea Green :)

[lu-is-not-ok]

A Narcissistic reading of Hong Lu

Yup, I'm actually doing this.

To lay down some facts first: I have NPD, alongside a bunch of other things that coalesce into a nuclear concoction strong enough to kill every dark empath in a five mile radius. If I find you ableisting it up, I give myself the permission to smite you. This is a threat and a warning.

Now, let's talk about Hong Lu. Because as it turns out, he might just be the most difficult literacy check in Limbus Company according to what I've seen.

I could just say "I'm a narcissist and Hong Lu is just like me fr fr so he's a narcissist too" and end the post, but honestly, where's the fun in that? There are, legitimately, things I want to yap about, so I'm going to yap about them, and no chucklefucks can stop me.

So, to start this off, let's make one thing clear.

Hong Lu is not only a good actor, but also a skilled liar. The way he navigates conversations and the methods he uses are just as important to analyze as the actual words he says, if not more so. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that trying to understand him based Only on what he says and not how he uses the things he says would result in an understanding that's not only incomplete, but potentially outright wrong.

Now, this isn't really tied to why I think Hong Lu could be very reasonably read as having NPD, at least not directly. Narcissists aren't inherently evil liar manipulators, and if that's what you take away from this post, that's more of a you problem (and you can go ahead and block me considering I'm one of the evil liar manipulator narcissists according to you).

However, there is a reason why I have to bring it up. And it's because almost all of Hong Lu's narcissistic traits become a lot more obvious once you look at the exact ways he takes control of conversations.

With that out of the way, what exactly are we even looking for?

NPD, in my experience, primarily affects one's sense of self-worth and self-esteem. I personally found that the analogy of a pendulum makes the most sense to me - a narcissist's sense of self-worth can swing between massive highs and massive lows, almost never staying in a middle "balanced" position, with even the tiniest things being able to throw it to one side or another.

The ways this can present outwardly are. Quite frankly, way too fucking many to count. But there are some common threads we can keep in mind:

High sensitivity to criticism

Need for an external source of validation

Tendency to seek out ways to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful

So, does Hong Lu fit those criteria?

Well. Yeah. This post wouldn't exist if he didn't.

Let's talk about the first point, high sensitivity to criticism. And, immediately, I would like everyone to remember Hell's Chicken, specifically the scene where Meursault begins to verbally roast his team's dish, and in the process laying down a verbal smackdown on everyone involved. That scene ended like this.

Curious, isn't it? The moment Meursault was about to start criticising Hong Lu, he just jumps in and distracts Meursault with a change of topic - something even Dante's narration points out.

Mind you, this isn't an isolated event. This is just the most obvious example of Hong Lu exhibiting this kind of behavior.

Don't believe me? Just look at these.

These are all examples of Hong Lu either backpedaling, changing the subject, or otherwise trying to avoid the acknowledgement of something that criticizes his status, thought process, or (in the last example) which would reveal an emotional vulnerability.

This is a fairly consistent pattern for him, and that's not even getting into the fact that the line he says when hovering over him before a skill check he has a Very Low chance at succeeding in has him suddenly try to excuse himself and leave.

Hong Lu is absolutely highly sensitive to criticism, it's just that his primary emotional reactions aren't ones we're privy to. Instead, what we get to see is how he acts to try and minimize the impact of those criticisms, if not outright find ways to never let them leave someone's mouth in the first place.

Next up - need for external validation.

This one doesn't have as many examples as the previous point, as Hong Lu is a generally closed off person who keeps a certain level of distance from most other Sinners. However, that doesn't mean I don't have any.

One such example comes from Canto 4, where soon after acting out his part in the play, Hong Lu seeks validation from Yi Sang.

Then there's this moment in Canto 6, where Hong Lu, once again, seeks validation for something he's done.

And then there's also these lines from Hong Lu's various Identities.

Aaaand then there's these base Identity voice lines, which, if you ask me, feel a bit like fishing for compliments.

This point is a lot harder to say is a definitive one, mainly due to Hong Lu's more closed off projected personality. That being said, the fact that one can find examples of it despite that is pretty notable.

And for the final one - trying to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful.

This is one that's a bit harder to provide exact examples for, as again, Hong Lu isn't someone who talks about how he feels often, and when he does it's not always exactly trustworthy. He's not like Rodya, who while still putting on a facade, is pretty open and easy to read about how she actually feels.

But, there's still some non-mutually exclusive interpretations I want to posit here. Two, in fact.

One - I believe that for Hong Lu, the thing he sees as power is control.

See, avoiding criticism isn't the only time Hong Lu steers conversations. In fact, it's something he does All The Time. He's often the one asking questions to get the group moving, trying to gather information that might be relevant to him, and generally taking over the direction a conversation is going in. Chances are, if Hong Lu speaks up, it's likely to alter the conversation he joins in noticeable ways.

This, I think, is one of the ways Hong Lu makes himself feel more powerful. After all, it's not that hard to guess from what little bits of his background we have that Hong Lu lacked agency for most of his life. So, wouldn't it make sense for him that having that agency, that being able to be socially in control, would be the exact kind of thing that would boost his self-esteem?

In fact, the only times we see him rendered completely speechless, seemingly stripped of that confidence in conversations he usually exhibits, are in Canto 7 - specifically in scenes where he's Not In Control of what the others are talking about. Those scenes being when the other Sinners start shit-talking Xichun in front of him, and when Xichun actively tries to bother Hong Lu by alluding to the way he's been treated back at home.

Extremely confident until something external happens that utterly strips him of that confidence... sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Then, there's the second interpretation.

See, with NPD, there are two ways a narcissist can try to make themself feel more deserving of attention. One is the one most probably think of when they think about narcissists - setting out to fulfill extremely high goals to feel amazing when one reached them and then feeling utterly crushed in the case one doesn't. This would be someone like Rodya.

However, there is also another way, one which I personally have much more experience with - to undersell. To set extremely low expectations, so that it's as hard as possible to fail reaching them, and to feel way better upon surpassing them than one would with higher, more "regular" expectations.

This, to me, is exactly the kind of narcissist Hong Lu is. Think about it. He's constantly putting out this image of an extremely sheltered person that barely understands the outside world, with notable moments where it's made clear he's Just Making Shit Up at points. Wouldn't making one seem unable to do anything, only to then proceed to do things you've led people to not expect of you, make it feel like you're much more exceptional than you really are?

The underselling goes the other way too. When the other Sinners point out something odd about Hong Lu in a more positive way, he's often quick to point out how it's Nothing compared to what his Family expected of him. Wouldn't that make one feel exceptional, to make it seem like whatever effort you're putting in to do well is but a fraction of what else you can do? That you don't even have to try to be able to be special?

...So, there. That's all the analysis and interpretation I find important to do to get my point across.

Just to make it clear, I don't think that the only thing wrong with Hong Lu is the narcissism. There's definitely a lot more shit going on in that head of his. But, I'll be honest, the NPD reading felt so obvious to me that it genuinely took me by surprise that other people don't see it.

Though... maybe I shouldn't be shocked. Some fuckers out there still think Faust is a narcissist when she's literally just autistic.

[loveafterdeath-if]

If I don't get to have a throw down with Juliet when my MC finds out what that nasty women did I might just scream. Ekissa is going to half to hold my earrings as I deliver the mother of all smackdowns on that crazy lady. I imagine it's to spoilery but what kind of reaction would the RO have when they final out as well

HAHAHAHAHAH it's spoilery, but I can say that MC won't need any RO to 'defend' them. Though some will be itching to grab Juliet before MC can. There'll be choices to hold back and let them deal with Juju, or to hold back and hold them back too, stay calm, cry, etc., you can also create chaos and go berserk with the RO having your back. It can get physical. You, Juliet, a room.

And there was only one bed…

[livfastdieyoung69]

We both need punk x reader x drew so im just sliding this in front of you and waving it aggressively

Punkinytre x reader where they fight for your attention and you just kinda live for it

MENAGE A TRIOS

(Cm Punk x Gn!Kinda bratty!Reader x Drew Mcintyre)

You had always been quite close to Drew ever since his return to the WWE. You had been in NXT together for a short amount of time, and you got to spend plenty of time with him. Drew was probably one of the sweetest men on the roster, especially when you both moved to the Smackdown roster and had to put up with many big egos. The way he looked after his comeback made him not only great to be around, but great to look at. He had always been on the more handsome side, but the filled-in beard, and improved and much bigger muscles made his babyface disappear, and goddamn did he look good. Considering your many years of…friendship, it was a little nerving to see him so out to get Jey Uso that he offered to help The Judgement Day during War Games. He knew your feelings about TJD, and sure, he apologized and said it was nothing but business but it was kinda out of character for him. Even more than your displacement for TJD, you were great friends with the entire other team.

Also that night, directly after Drew’s loss, which you had made your way to the Guerilla to comfort him for, TV static and guitar hit the speakers and a man you hadn’t seen for many years, walked through the curtains. A man you held very close to your heart, just as close as Drew. You had a pretty similar relationship with him too. Around the start of COVID, WWE hadn’t been doing so well and neither was your career. You’d gotten a couple of calls from a new wrestling company looking to make it big and took a chance. With that chance, your career grew massively, enough to eventually make a great return to WWE just six short months ago, and your relationships grew too. You were held to higher standards in the locker room and looked upon as wrestling loyalty. One of the men who helped you achieve that was the one who just made the arena shake, made the wrestling community break in damn half, the CM Punk.

As much as you wanted to run out into the arena, to grab ahold of Punk and hug Drew, tell him everything would be okay, you unfortunately had to stay back. You stood with a good part of the production crew, as well as HHH himself, the man who had brought you back, who watched you practically shake in your excitement as the main eventers started to pour into the room.

Drew was one of the first to stomp into the Guerrilla, angrily making his way towards you. As much as you wanted to give him the whole ‘I told you so!’ speech, he didn’t look up to it, so instead you settled for balancing on your tippy toes and hugging as close as you could reach around his armpits- two things about Drew had never changed since you met him. His kindness towards you, and his height, the man was a damn beanstalk.

“You’ll get em’ next time, D, you did great! I’m sure it was Dominik’s fault, anyway.” You rub his back, giving him a little pat while he breathes out a sad chuckle into your shoulder. Before you begin to try to pull away from him, you catch a glimpse of the curtain moving one final time, prying your eyes from Drew’s pouting face. You aren’t able to help the scream that leaves you as you practically push Drew off you.

“OhmyGod, Phil!” He watches you rush towards him with a glint in his eye and the same grin he always greeted you with, arms opening to hold you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back!” You’re all but yelling into his ear, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He just laughs down at you, rubbing your back like you had done to Drew, who is now stomping his way to his dressing room and pouting even more.

“Couldn’t ruin the surprise now, could I?” The cheeky son of a bitch hadn’t told anyone but HHH, whom Phil had made it clear to that he was allowed to tell the whole roster except for you. Hunter just so happened to decide not to tell anyone. You’re just about climbing up him while he sways the two of you, stumbling away from the curtain entrance to get out of the way of the staff.

“I’m so glad you're back, Phil.” You muttered into his chest, covered by a new CM Punk Chicago flag shirt, just about in tears. “God, I missed you.”

His hand is placed on the back of your head, squeezing you tightly once last time with his other arm before pulling away an arm's length. He keeps his hands on your elbows, thumbs gently feathering across your skin. “I missed you too, Champ.” You didn’t even have a championship at the moment, but that was what he’d called you since your first meeting in AEW. You held the FTW Championship for most of your time with the company, passing it onto Hook when it was your time to leave in a brilliant FTW Rules Match after holding it for over two years.

Since the heartwarming (for you) return of Phil, things between you and Drew were…different. He huddled closer to you when showing you pictures of his adorable black cat Chaz, or grabbing you by the hip and dragging his fingertips up and down your side when he catches you in the hall. It's even worse when he spots you around Phil, which you usually are, he’ll wrap himself around you from behind and refuse to let go. Then again, Phil seemed to do the same thing around McIntyre. He had been touchy like that in AEW though, so you didn’t chalk it up to anything. But sometimes, you start to second guess if maybe you should chalk it to something.

Like the time you’d been waiting to get your hair fixed before your match with Phil in the chair next to you, scooched until you were maybe a foot apart. The two of you had been giggling at pictures of Larry when Drew stalked up behind you, kilt in one hand while dressed for the ring, bringing his other arm to rest just above your chest. You looked up from Phil's phone in surprise, feet pausing in their soft kicks against the bottom metal of the chair.

“Oh, hey, Drew.” You give him a grin while shutting your phone off and squeezing the warm muscles of his tricep. He gives you a warm smile through the mirror in return, scooching in closer and giving you a quick, barely touching kiss on the head.

“Hey, sweetheart. Have you seen Brittany?” He places his kilt, the blue one, on the arm of your chair. You shake your head, letting out a ‘nuhuh’.

“Why, what's the matter?” You ask, confusion and concern painting against your face as you turn to face him, his arm falling to your shoulder. Brittany was one of the few medical personnel that traveled with the roster, and the nicest one. Most people went to her if they had the choice. “You’re not feelin' good?” You stand from your chair and quickly circle it to place your hand on his forehead. Too worried about him, you didn’t notice the smug look he sent Punk or the snare he received. He takes your wrist and gently prys you from his forehead.

“Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet thing. Just a bit of a headache, that's all.” Another thing about Drew, he had picked up a recent thing for nicknames. Like, really, really cute ones that usually have you battering your eyelashes, but you were too worried for that at the moment.

“Well, why didn’t you say something? C’mon, Brits busy, y’know I’ve always got some medicine in my bag.” You tugged him along with a quick reassurance to Phil that you’d be right back, once again missing the look Drew gave him over his shoulder.

Or the time you had been walking the halls towards catering with Drew, laughing so hard at something he had said it forced you to stop and wrap around his arm so you wouldn’t bend your knees. They’d been feeling a little sore and Brittany had suggested stretching and trying not to use them as much as you could. Drew had even offered to carry you to catering, but you wouldn’t let him. Maybe after your match. Anyways, you’re pressed against Drew who's looking down at you like the love-sick puppy he (and Phil) is, when you’re moment is interrupted.

“Hey, there you are, Champ!” Phil is jogging up from some random hallway that cuts through the one you were currently in. You slip from Drew's grasp as you look over at the sound of Phil’s echoing voice. You greet him with a warm smile and a short, warming hug. Phil was always warm, you could remember the first time you met- he pulled you into a friendly side-hug, radiating warmth physically and emotionally.

“You’ve been looking for me?” You ask him while Drew leans against the cold, white-painted brick wall behind the two of you. With your back to him, you couldn’t see him smoldering in his new spot.

“Well, I figured,” Punk starts, looking at you teasingly while he takes off his cotton zip-up jacket, printed with his iconic fists and the Chicago flag. “Knowing you, you’d dress for the outside weather and not the weather in here, of where we will be all day.” The arenas were always freezing, but you always forgot and instead dressed for whatever season it was, so, in turn, you were always freezing too. Phil throws his jacket around your shoulders and you’re quick to pull your arms through the sleeves.

“Ugh, you’re a lifesaver! I’ve been freezing all day, I keep putting off my warm-ups.” You rattle off as you hug it close to you, the fabric holding onto the remnant of his warmth.

“Anytime, babe.” That was a new one. You weren’t usually a fan of the term, but from him…it just fit, from him. “Hey, let me know when you decide to do those warm-ups, I’ll come and find you again, yeah?” You nod and bring him into another small hug while he gives your cheek a small kiss before saying goodbyes. Of course, you don’t notice this either, but Drew won’t stop staring at you bundled up in another man's, let alone Punks, clothes all night long.

Moments like those, really do make you look back and question everything. The jealous? glances anytime you’ve somehow obtained the others’ jacket, merch, or even just an ounce of the others' time. The names don’t help either. Neither do the kisses, and hugs, and constant, never-ending praise. Now that you thought about it, it couldn’t be more obvious that they both had a thing for you. But when you really stopped, and really thought, it was kinda great! I mean, C’mon! Two great, very handsome guys who were constantly fighting for your attention and also a little fruity with each other? What could possibly be better? Even with your new revolutionary thought, sometimes you still doubted yourself.

Until the one day, when about half of the roster was stuck in the airport in a delay, and to make it worse, it was pretty late and the airport was tiny. All the stores and restaraunts were closed, and you weren’t allowed to leave cause there was no way back in. You’d been stuck in the terrible, flimsy chairs, freezing your ass off for atleast half an hour. Just like the arenas, you always forget to dress for airport weather. You’d been sitting with Naomi and her husband Jimmy, who Jey was tagging along with. The trio could always make you laugh.

Drew had been the first to approach, plopping his duffel into the seat next to you, quick to notice you just about shivering in your spot, beginning to ruffle around in his bag for something you could wear. You’re attention had been on the twins and the never-ending jokes they send back and forth when the soft material draped over your shoulders, so you assumed it was Drew. The twins’, following in the footsteps of Naomi, laughter stops as they look over you before quickly looking away awkwardly as if they were intruding. The three’s actions confuse you, but Drew’s big hand gently peeling the jacket from you and replacing it with a different one does so even more.

You finally look behind you, finding Drew and Phil glaring at each other while this time Phil removes the jacket, replacing it with his again.

“I put it there first.”

“I got here first.”

Drew rebukes, reaching to take the hoodie off of you for a third time before you twist to face the both of them, Phil's hoodie falling from your back either way. Clearly, the whole fighting thing was working on a first come, first serve thing but it seemed to finally catch up. Even with you out of reach, the two continue in their bickering, Phil even rounding your chair to get in Drew's face.

Now, the whole fighting over you thing was great when you were benefiting from it. Now, you were freezing and they kept torturing you with an ounce of warmth and taking it away and they just kept arguing and getting louder through your attempts to stop them, there was no benefit to any of this at all. Jimmy and Naomi were whispering under their breath and Jey was pretending that something was important on his phone’s home screen. God, why did they even have to argue, couldn’t you just have two boyfriends? Who said you can’t have them both?….Actually, why couldn’t you?

“Hello??” You finally yell and stand, now between them, annoyed at being ignored. You pull Drew’s hoodie from his grasp and take Phils off the back of your chair. “It’s great that you both want me and everything, cause I totally want you too, so can’t we all just chill for a second?” You take your seat again, curling up while pulling Phil’s hoodie on and placing Drew’s over your lap considering Drews was meant to fit hit taller frame, and was basically a blanket. Your The boys look down at you in confusion while you get comfy.

“Wha..wait, wait. Who are you talking to, you want me or Drew?” Phil speaks up first. You look back up at him, completely exasperated, so much so your face makes Naomi burst into laughter way louder than she wanted at all (All three of them are trying too hard to keep it together).

“Both of you, dummy! Who said I couldn’t have the best of both worlds?” When no one speaks up, your hands wave around before falling back to your lap. “Exactly. And don’t pretend like ya’ll don't look at each other either, I’ve seen everything you do on TV.” They blush at your accusation, but before Drew tries to defend himself you speak up again, grabbing both of their hands. “Now, c’mere, I’m cold.” You tug them forward, each falling into the seats beside you.

You turn to lean into Punk's neverending heat, curling up against his heat while shoving your feet into Drew’s lap. Theres still tension in the two of them, along with the three across from you, but as time passes and silence washes over it seems like everyone realizes maybe there really was no reason to fight. Drew breaks the silence with a scoff, his hand running up and down the back of your leg.

“You’re a bit of a brat, eh?” He teases you, eyebrows raised with a grin.

“Oh, gets whatever they want, this one,” Phil responds before you can, the arm around you going up to gently slide under your chin. “Just now noticing?”

“Wow, alright. I see how it is. No excuse to fight each other so we’re taking it out on me now, huh? I get it-“ You raise your hands in fake defense, moving to get up from your seat but they both pull you back down with noises of denial. You fall into laughter, the boys quickly following shortly before silence returns for a moment. You turn away, looking at the screen to see if there's any new information on the delay.

“Think you’ll be able to put up with the both of us?” Punk mutters against your head. You scoff, your hand coming up to hold his as you search for your flight on the screen.

“You think this is amateur hours or somethin’? I’ve put up with the both of you for years, seems like no one else can handle one of you, let alone two.” Your sock-padded foot prods against Drew's thighs, his grip on your leg tightening for a second in response as he looks over at you fondly. He pulls your other hand out from under his jacket, putting it in his before placing a kiss on it.

“Seems like you’re stuck with us then, lover.” Drew speaks with an all-knowing smirk as you turn bashful (those damn nicknames and that damn accent, ugh!).

You respond with a muttering of ‘Guess So’, falling back against Phil after finding your plane and seeing nothing new. Figuring you’ll be there for a while you do your best to get comfy, and thanks to your boys, it's pretty easy. Even if you weren’t the most conventional…couple? group? and even if the other two acted like they wanted to rip each other's heads off, it worked, no matter what. In every universe, you worked, no matter what.

i hate the ending but i need this out its getting ridicolous and im not reading ts over AGAIN either way it isn’t as much as i thought it was i was just fr dragging my feet through this like i love it but i just dont wanna do anything

im sick :( i havent been productive in like weeks so i figured id finally do something while im finally at home and i have nothing else to do lol.

i miss my man jeffrey and in the time that ive been doing nothing my attraction to weird little freaks has started to dominate even more over like.. normal? people? girl idk im losing my mind someone give me freak(i went to a rob zombie concert oohhh i need that man so baddddd)

anyways…enjoy ig oh also i literally just looked up throuple cuz i was stuck on a title and that was the first thing that poppedup and it made me giggle so

[discocandles]

i said id make a tierlist of fairy tail men based on how much of a smug motherfucker i think they are, and so guess what a bitch did

and ill put my thoughts under the cut bc i can(theres a lot of them fyi)

Fairy Tail is a series with an abundance of cocky bastards, smug motherfuckers, and annoying little shits(usually said w/ love). So I made the tiers accordingly:

Radiates cockiness constantly: self-explanatory. they're so smug you can like smell it on them. Jackassery off the charts(affectionate)

ofc Gajeel would be at the top of the list. you hear that man go "geehee" one time and its abundantly clear he's a smug motherfucker through and through. the people he's nicest to are Levy and Pantherlily, and he will still razz them all the time for shits and giggles. it doesnt matter if he's an enemy or an ally, Gajeel Redfox stays a jackass, and i love that for him.

Sting, has gotten less cocky over time. probs bc he got his ass beat so bad it was on the news. Before that tho, he was so cocky. he changed the vibe of sabertooth, bc everyone else was stonefaced. but post-smackdown he's gotten to be more goofy and cheerful(even if he is still brash & kind of a dick at times). I think its also bc he's guild master, and didn't want to be jiemma so he aimed for the opposite. plus lots of other guild masters have very goofy and/or jovial exteriors, and he's emulating that.

Dragon slayer tier: i said they were getting their own tier. i meant it.

natsu... is natsu, and he could fit in the top tier. But to me he radiates more goofiness than cockiness. like yes, he's a cocky little shit on the regular, but usually when natsu is being smug or bragging, its on behalf of others. ex: bragging about lucy's win over bixlow, cackling at how shocked everyone was over erza demolishing pandemonium, taunting the twin dragons in their fight less bc it was personal to him, but for his guild, etc.

Cobra/Erik: listen to him, basically every time he speaks you hear it. he's insufferable and he knows it. and its def bc of the hearing everything bit, bc its an "i know something you definitely don't" kind of smug.

Acnologia: i really have no thoughts about him, but like hes def smug about being a big bad evil guy. ok

Laxus was kinda like Sting in that he became less of a cocky asshole over the span of the show, partially bc he lost some teen angst and gained some perspective, but he's definitely still got the swagger of a guy who knows he can kick most anyone's ass in a moment's notice.

Rogue could probably be lower ngl. like he and wendy are the reasons i know that dragon slaying doesnt mean being over-confident. and like he also was in the his-ass-got-beat-so-bad-its-on-the-news thing but he is still generally pretty confident in his abilities, but hes not being over the top about it. i think he just lets sting take the lead there.

PLEASE beat his ass: these are the dudes that are so cocky that i find it grating. Jackassery off the charts(derogatory). altrnative titles: im beating you up, stfu tier, and DIE. DIE. DIE IN A PLANE CRASH

Zancrow is poster boy of this tier. hate his ass. i can't describe the face i make when i hear his laugh. the only good things he did were tell Meredy the truth about Ultear, then die horribly.

Bacchus: I do find his cockiness grating, but bc of the particular type of cockiness. because he's so misogynistic about it. like yeah, you won a drinking game, but that doesn't mean you can steal her bra off her back while she's passed out. yes, this guy agreed on a wager, but saying "if i win i get to sleep with both of your sisters at once"? ... ew.

bixlow is the one i mean this the least for. i was very happy to see Lucy whoop his ass, but post-fantasia, he's just kinda annoying, and i had to put him somewhere. he's like my detox so this tier doesnt make me punch something.

Mest on the other hand i want dead. like there's the obvious shit, but also he reads like a cop to me bc of all the shit he fully believes he can get away with, despite it being wildly corrupt. i hope your death is painful you scum

Taurus... what gives you the confidence to be saying that shit all the fucking time. also cockiness thats mixed with misogyny

It kinda depends tbh: basically these guys are fairly cocky, but it doesn't feel like the default. it should probs be like "vast majority of the time or something" idk.

Gray: i feel like im gonna get asked why he wasnt higher. listen hes definitely a smug jackass, im not saying he isnt, but it feels like he flips a switch to make that happen, otherwise he's just quietly brooding.

Zeref's curse probably plays a lot into how cocky he is, bc like when hes unintentionally emitting death blasts, theres nothing in the way of being smug, but like when we see him not caring about life, he's very sassy.

Lyon is in the same boat as gray tbh, but hes a bit more goofy id say. he's got more of a penchant for wanting to annoy his pseudo-brother than being a jackass, but when he atarts out, oh my lord, he's insufferable and pretentious so like he can vary.

Scorpio definitely had that one time he wasnt all "wicked" rock n roll and shit at least. i dunno we shouldve seen more of him outside of quick attacks and being aquarius' bf

Jet was wayyyyyyy cockier before tenrou. but even then he was seen as dependent on levy, and ofc he'd lose that type of stuff after the timeskip.

Prect/Hades: like he was mostly stoic and whatnot during ft zero, but then became a cocky asshole by going mad over like magic power and whatnot does put you into the yeah youre an ass sometimes tier

Capricorn: the guy means well, but like for deffos pretentious and a bit of a dick about it i thinks

Pretty boy smug(TM): this is kinda like the dragon slayer tier, but instead of smugness because of power, its bc of being attractive(this is functionally the middle tier fyi)

Loke: honestly he's got both kinds of smugness let's be real here. But given how he's very much a play boy(a renowned one in fact) and thats the main thing we know about him for a hot while, that's where the focus ends up. its all part of his flirtations at this point

Yuri: so he was actually supposed to be in the tier above pretty boy but then i was like "actually, this kinda checks and is pretty funny ngl." so yeah he's in pretty boy tier now.

pieces: i dunno man its just the vibes. we dont see enough of him in this form for me to get a real grasp on him.

the 3 blue pegasus motherfuckers(i aint listing them seperately): where the hell else would they go. its literally their whole thing

Self-assured ig: the first tier in they arent smug/cocky actually. i said fairy tail was full of cocky men. these guy's self confidence is either around or even below their general skill level

Pantherlily: the poster boy(cat?) for this. like Lily is a very confident guy, but he's got the skill to back that up as well as not trying to bite off more than he can chew. i wish we got to see more of him(totes not bc he's my favorite exceed and im biased)

Warrod: tbh he kinda seems to have less confidence than is probably merited for his power, but also hes usually so calm and nonchalant(or seemingly senile) that its really hard to tell that for sure

Cancer: listen the dude knows what hes good at, and that cutting hair, and given that lucy never summons him to ask about cutting anything else, i feel like that's a part of their contract or something.

droy: i dunno about droy. it feels like he was a generally normal guy but then he became the butt of a bunch of fat jokes and all of that makes it harder to read his character as a result. he seems normal

Alzack seems to have gotten more confident over time. i feel like its partially because how tied he is with Bisca, and while it feels like a detractor in earlier parts of the the series, after they get married, it seems like he's far more comfortable in the role of being her husband, and also being the best dad he can be for asuka. and like we stan a supportive husband and loving dad.

reedus.... hes normal ig. he paints and hes very proud of his abilities there. we really stop seeing him around like the grand magic games arc so eh?

sagittarius is in the same boat as cancer really. thats why theyre in the same tier

Catholic guilt tier: oh baby lets go its my favorite!!! this is where its like i dont think this is humility, i think this is some confidence issues or self-deprication

Jellal: god how could i have a catholic guilt tier and not put jellal in it? he reeks of that shit. and like sure, he was pretty cocky when he was evil and occasionally will have some general swagger when it comes to his fights, but that is so vastly outweighed by his severe self-worth issues and his constant desire to repent for his sins(you see where im getting the catholic guilt?). seeing him being cocky post-tower of heaven usually feels wrong and ooc, he's too much of a sad wet cat

Simon also kinda feels like he suffered from catholic guilt, but to a lesser degree. he also just had this vibe of consistently undervaluing himself, esp in comparison to the people around him(particularly with erza. hell esp with erza. he barely felt himself worthy of telling her he was in love with her ever)

freed may not radiate catholic guilt but he definitely doesnt radiate confidence in my eyes unless its confidence in Laxus. honestly hes lowkey catholic about laxus(specifically in reference to the one time he went on a job with Wendy and asked a laxus in the sky for advice?)

Mystogan may not be our main dimension's jellal, but he is still jellal, as seen by how he tries to take the fall constantly for reverse anima stuff.

Elfman: i feel like i may catch some heat for this, but like come on. i feel like his "oh im so manly all the time and im obessed with being a man" thing, is often a front, like hes trying to put on a brave facade for his sisters' sake. idk maybe its bc ive been watching the tartaros arc that i put him here but eh whatever

anyways, much love <3

[poetrysmackdown]

welcome to the 2023 tumblr poetry smackdown

tumblr has developed something of a canon of poetry over the past couple years, and i figured others might enjoy getting a chance to voice their opinions on a few of those poems! poems i chose for the poetry smackdown had to be more or less widely read on tumblr (generally 10k+ notes, most with more or spread across compilations), and relatively short so as to make voting easier. they also had to be complete—there are a lot of popular lines floating around on tumblr that are excerpted from very long poems and/or poems that are inaccessible via internet, and those aren't included here. a handful of poets are represented here twice reflecting my sense of their popularity, but i arranged the bracket in such a way that it won't be able to stay that way past round 2 at the latest. if i missed a poem that is super popular i'm sorry, that said the bracket is staying as is because this was a shit ton of work to put together and i don't want to. ty.

you can get to the polls by following the links below or going to the #round1 tag on my blog. you can also send me propaganda if you want via ask and i'll post it/add it to the next round's post if the poem wins.

happy voting!

sincerely amelia @poetriarchy :)

ROUND 1: ENDS JULY 17 at 6pm EDT

"The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin vs. "Butter Dish" by Leonard Cohen (cow poems)

"Poem" by Langston Hughes vs. "A Meeting" by Wendell Berry

"Miss you. Would like to grab that chilled tofu we love." by Gabrielle Calvocoressi vs. "My Sister, Who Died Young, Takes Up The Task" by Jon Pineda

"Hammond B3 Organ Cistern" by Gabrielle Calvocoressi vs. "Hong Kong" by Sue Zhao

"someone will remember us" (fragment by Sappho trans. Anne Carson) vs. "Wait" by Faraj Bou al-Isha trans. Khaled Mattawa

"The Quiet World" by Jeffrey McDaniel vs "Invisible Fish" by Joy Harjo

"Want" by Joan Larkin vs. "Come, and Be My Baby" by Maya Angelou

"Swan" by Mary Oliver vs. "How I Go to the Woods" by Mary Oliver

"The Orange" by Wendy Cope vs. "The Tenor of Your Yes" by Mary Ruefle

"Here There Are Blueberries" by Mary Syzbist vs. "Instructions on Not Giving Up" by Ada Limón

"To The Young Who Want to Die" by Gwendolyn Brooks vs. "A Litany for Survival" by Audre Lorde

"Night Walk" by Franz Wright vs. "Meditations in an Emergency" by Cameron Awkward-Rich

"Summer Was Forever" by Chen Chen vs. "I'm not a religious person but" by Chen Chen

"How to Be a Dog" by Andrew Kane vs. "Scheherazade" by Richard Siken

"I'm going to Minnesota where sadness makes sense" by Danez Smith vs. "Dream Song 29" by John Berryman

"Having a Coke with You" by Frank O'Hara vs. "Having 'Having a Coke with You' with You" by Mark Leidner

ADDENDUM: at 6pm on July 17th (or possibly a day earlier if there's already a clear sweep), I will be releasing a one-day poll that will give voters the option to sub in "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver for the winner of matchup #8: "Swan" vs. "How I Go to the Woods". this is to help correct my significant oversight when I was remembering which two Oliver poems I've seen most on tumblr, and it's the only time I'm doing this kind of thing, so don't suggest it for any other poems after this please. that said, a sincere ty to @darkcomedies for first bringing its absence to my attention! and keep an eye out for this extra poll which i am calling ROUND 1.5: A HAIL MARY (OLIVER)

[fandomfucker]

Hey bestie

I’ve loved you stuff for ages so I thought you would be a good writer for a lil idea I had!

Poly! Judgement Day x reader (or just Rhea Ripley ) where bubbly (but smart and snarky) reader gets moved to smackdown during the draft and only sees the rest of her partners one or two days a week.

She acts independently like it doesn’t bother her that she has to travel alone, and doesn’t tell her partners that she’s had trouble making friends at smackdown. But it’s taking a toll on her.

When she starts seeing them post more photos without her and all text her less she finally loses it.

After a long day of losing a championship match reader goes home to find out that her partners didn’t even know that she had a match that night and barely acknowledge her homecoming. Reader cries herself to sleep alone in their kingside bed.

Hurt/comfort ensues

- I hope this wasn’t too long 💕,

🟧Anon

Thank you so much for all your support!!🫶

Definitely get toxic relationship vibes with this so i kinda played into it a little. Also, this doesnt actually follow anything because I dont actually really watch Smackdown, pls dont kill me🙏

Some of the dialogue and resulting reactions/scenarios are from this list by @judgementdaysunshine and @romanthereigns

Word count: 4,473

Reader’s POV

It felt like my heart had been ripped in two and then thrown in a woodchipper.

Without any kind of warning or anything, I had just been removed from my partnership with the Judgment Day and put on Smackdown instead of Raw.

Backstage in our shared dressing room it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the five of us all stood around in stunned silence.

Dominik was the first to break it as he launched himself at me, cradling my head to his chest as the news began to sink in.

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I stared off over his shoulder at nothing. Our hug was jolted when Damian, Finn, and Rhea joined us, surrounding and enveloping us whole.

I blinked until the tears receded, refusing to cry over an unfortunate situation such as this.

I felt tears on my shoulder from one of my partners and heard the shaking sobs of the others, making it just that much harder to not cry myself.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from our group hug, wiping away any remaining strays.

I cleared my throat, "This isn't going to change anything, okay? We all still love each other and at the end of the day, we all go back to the same home. We'll be okay."

Dominik nodded, keeping a hand on my waist as he wiped away his own tears. Catching Damian also wiping away his tears I sent him a small smile, hugging into his waist.

"You're right, dove. It might be hard, but we'll make it work just like we always do." Rhea smiled as she cradled my face in her hands.

I nodded my head, smiling at her in return before removing myself from the boys' holds on me and crushing her body into mine, holding onto her waist tightly.

Finn stood to the side of her and took one of my hands in his, "Lass, this isn't goodbye, and it never will be. You're going to do great by yourself, really get the chance to show everyone just what all you're capable of."

Nodding my head again against Rhea's chest, I squeezed his hand in acknowledgment and comfort as I took in all my partners in the group locker room for what was possibly the last time.

"I'll make you guys proud."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two smackdowns later and I still had yet to make any of them even remotely proud.

Turns out, even if you leave a group, people still hold grudges against you for being in that group.

Rhea and I had obliterated the entire women's division both individually and as the occasional tag team so no one liked me or even so much as acknowledged I was there.

The ignoring was worse than any bullying or ambushes I could have anticipated.

The only woman in the locker room that would even look at me was the new girl from NXT, Blair Davenport but the others had warned her about me, so she too stayed away.

All the men wouldn't talk to me either more than a 'hello' in passing because my boys had swept through them too.

Apparently creating grudges left and right isn't as fun as I thought, once those I made the grudges with are no longer with me. I had burned all the bridges I now needed to keep from drowning.

We managed to work our schedules out enough so that we'd all be able to see each other once or twice a week, unless there was a PLE in which we'd be together that whole week.

I was given a newer design along with new beefs. Instead of my usual black and dark purple I wore more pastel colors. Baby blue, lilac, light yellows, etc. I was given extensions and my makeup was much less dramatic. My shorts were traded for skirts and my hand symbols for hearts.

I was told they were wanting to take some more creative liberties for me and I could either get on board with it or leave.

My first match on Smackdown was against the new girl, Blair Davenport who wanted to "show the world what she's made of" and decided to try and make me her example.

Long story short; I won. And that really didn't do me any favors, except to get me a match against Chelsea Green. The winner of which would be getting a shot at the Women's Championship title against Bayley.

Sitting in the locker room after winning my match against Chelsea I sat in the corner with my knees to my chest as I texted the Judgment Day group-chat.

Y/N: Guys!! I got a match against Bayley for the title next week!! We're about to have two womens champs in the JD!😁😁💪💪

With the different time zones I wasn't expecting an immediate reply so I just went ahead and began scrolling through Instagram until it was time for my promo.

Rhea's post came up first. It was just a picture of her dinner, at a fancy restaurant, and you could see Dominik's shirt and hands in the background.

Some of us go on dates with each other by ourselves all the time so I thought nothing of it, just liked it and kept scrolling.

Until I saw that Damian had uploaded a friends-only story. Clicking on it, it was a mirror selfie of him and Finn wearing tuxes, a peak of a flowy red dress just out of frame. The next slide was a full picture of Rhea in her dress. Her dress that I had given her.

My eyes stung a bit that my partners had all gone out on a really nice date without me, but I blinked it away because it didn't matter. It was one date and I'm on the other side of the country right now, they can go on one date without me. It's fine.

When it was time to do my promo, someone came and escorted me to the specific area where my favorite unbiased interviewer, Cathy Kelley, was waiting for me. Her face lit up when she saw me as I barreled towards her.

Crushing her into a hug, we both squealed with delight at finally seeing each other for the first time in forever.

We caught up and did my promo and decided to go out for a really late dinner together after the show. I told her about my struggles with the women on the roster while she spilled about her own personal problems.

"Oh! Let's take a cute little dinner date picture for Insta!" Cathy exclaimed pulling out her phone. I agreed and joked that we should hold hands across the table like a real date and she agreed.

She posted the photo and we watched as the comments rolled in from the fans. Some were loving it while others thought she might be dating both Rhea and me now. We laughed at some of the comments before going back to our conversation.

Wrapping up dinner, Cathy revealed to me that while she would be on Smackdown more often than before, she still wouldn't be there every week.

"It's okay, its not your fault," I forced a smile before we made our way to our separate hotel rooms. "I'll see you tomorrow though?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course! Sweet dreams, Y/N," She replied before we went our separate ways.

Two hours later, now laid in my hotel bed about to go to sleep, and the only response I'd gotten was a thumbs-up reaction from Finn. Secretly, I hoped my partners were just too busy planning something special for me when I got home and didn't want to accidentally ruin the surprise.

Deciding to just get over it, I went to bed, dreaming of finally being with all my partners again, going on a date with all of us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of my phone's notifications woke me up early the next morning. I reached out, aiming for the nightstand where I had left my phone to charge the night before. I blindly hit around the area until I felt my phone, bring it up to my half-open eyes, blinking rapidly at the burning brightness of the screen.

The screen was filled with angry texts from my partners.

Finn: What the hell were you doing with Cathy???

Rheas: Were you on a date last night???

Hello???

Y/N!

Damian: Answer us Y/n!!

Dominik: Y/n answer your fucking phone this is insane

My eyes teared up in fear at my partners' reactions. They seemed genuinely upset, especially with the combined 24 missed calls in a 4-hour time period.

I just texted back a simple, "We just went out to dinner and thought the picture would be cute. Nothing more." before getting up and going about my day. With my next flight leaving in just a few hours, I had a lot to do before I could even get to the airport.

After getting out of the shower, I checked my messages only to see no response from any of my partners. Clicking on the chat, I saw that I had been left on read by all four of them. I tried to push aside my feelings but lately it was getting harder and harder to do so.

But, I managed to pull myself together just enough to make it on my flight home just in time.

It was mid-Sunday by the time I made it to our shared house, and I knew I'd be alone for the next couple days since my partners' flight out for Raw had been around the same time as my flight in.

The rest of the day was spent self-loathing in the bathtub as I watched a few of Bayley's old matches, trying to give myself the upper-hand for our match by learning how she fights.

I fell asleep in bed that night, shoveling ice cream into my mouth as I watched old reruns of Full House on the TV.

The next morning was nice because I was finally able to sleep-in after so many early mornings. I was able to make myself a cup of coffee and make french toast (something I hadn't been able to have in forever) as I sat on the back porch watching the birds fly through the trees.

My nice little fantasy, however, was broken when I received an Instagram notification. This one was a picture Rhea had posted; a selfie of the four of them in the car they were driving.

I was too emotionally exhausted for my eye to even begin welling up. So, to save myself from anymore heartbreak and/or grievances, I blocked all four of them on both socials and messages and told myself I'd unblock them later that day.

Later that day turned into fifteen minutes later when I started feeling guilty, so I unblocked their messages and left their socials alone. I'd see the pictures eventually on my feed posted by fans, but hopefully it would take a little bit longer than if they weren't blocked. None of them ever bothered to text me individually or the group chat of all five of us the rest of that week, even after I texted them to congratulate them on their wins form Monday. 

Brushing off the avoidances form them, I just went about my week. A few facetime interviews and a podcast. I answered emails and went to the gym. I cleaned the house and did laundry, wondering when on Earth my partners would get home.

I even called them to ask to no avail. But I saw the posts on Instagram of them a few states away hanging out, going on dates. They had decided to do a road-trip back home instead of a flight. 

The uncomfortable lump in my throat increased with each swipe to the next picture. As I swiped through the pictures, my growing fury and heartache increasing in a swirl of mixed feelings, Dominik texted me, saying they'd be home Thursday night.

Around the same time as my flight out to the next city for Smackdown.

I sent a thumbs up in reply and threw my phone off to the side so I wouldn't have to think about it for the next little while.

I just went ahead and began packing all my stuff for Smackdown Friday night, making sure I had everything I needed for my new ring gear I was about to debut. It was a special occasion, after all. I was about to be the next women's champion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday night had arrived and I now stood in the guerilla bouncing around as I shook out my nerves. Onlookers shot me weird looks as I went through my warm-ups as well, they weren't your typical ones as I had learned them in high school doing theatre.

Bayley passed me, giving me a look I couldn't quite decipher as her music hit first and she walked out. 

A minute later my own started playing and I walked out, swaggering my way down the aisle. When I was told to change my look, and my attitude as well, to make myself not apart of the Judgment Day anymore, I was finally given my own theme music, but I missed our group theme more than anything.  My now long hair swung as I made my way up the stairs and into the ring to do my entrance against the ropes.

Stepping into the middle of the ring, I faced Bayley as our title match was announced and the title showcased to the audience. I caught her mouthing something at me, making me grin sadistically. You can take the girl out of the faction but you can't take the faction out of the girl.

"May the best woman win."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't win.

It was a long match that wound up being longer than anyone anticipated, ourselves included.

Bayley eventually got the best of me when my head hit the turnbuckle at just the right angle for me to black out for a second, leaving room for Bayley to pin me as I was too disoriented to kick out.

The ref had to help me backstage to the medics after the lights went out, signaling the commercial break. She even had to hand me a towel to catch the blood beginning to flow from the small cut.

The on-sight paramedic gave me some ice for my head as she checked my pupils. "Yeah, I think you got a minor concussion there, hon. I'll let Mr. Aldis know but you should sit down and rest until you can get an uber, you shouldn't be driving." 

She left the room and I immediately started bawling my eyes out, making my headache worse. Not only did I now have a concussion which would cause me to be out for at least a few weeks, but I was lonely, my partners were ignoring me and probably didn't love me anymore, and I lost my one shot at the title that I had earned and fought for entirely by myself.

My cries attracted the attention of a few passerby but only one stopped and came in to check on me.

"Hey, Y/n, I'm really sorry. That was my fault, I totally botched that, I'm so sorry. If you want I can take you back to the hotel so you don't have to pay for an uber? I just have one more promo to do and then I'm all done."

I looked up to see Bayley standing there, her title nowhere in sight, looking so sincerely upset and apologetic it just sent another wave of tears down my already soaked cheeks.

"That'd be great, thank you," I laugh-cried as she helped me down from the table and back to the shared locker room.

All the other girls stared at me as I walked in, my face and eyes puffy and my forehead bandaged, as I continued to hold an ice pack to the top of said bandage. No one else seemed to have any sympathy for me and rightfully so. I hadn't actually done anything in the past 2 years to warrant any.

Bayley brought me over to my locker and began helping me get all my stuff together. "Why are you helping me?" I croaked pitifully.

She avoided eye contact, "Because I know what it's like. To lose your faction--the people who mean the most to you and are always supposed to be there for you, I mean."

A small laugh escaped me as well as another tear. I swiped it away before offering my hand to her. "Truce?"

"Truce," She nodded and shook my hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally getting home late the next day, I was relieved to find all four of my partners already at home. I was nervous to see them after all the ignored communications and their Instagram posts of dates I wasn't invited on, but I was tired and hurt and wanted my partners.

Unlocking the door, I stepped into the entryway, smiling softly as I heard my partners' rambunctious laughter coming from the living room. I left my suitcase by the door and made my way over to them.

They were playing the new WWE2k24 game with the new Xbox Rhea had gotten from being on the cover.

"Hey guys! I'm home!" I announced my presence from behind the couch as I walked in.

I received a chorus of "hey babe"s from all four of them, not one of them turning around to actually acknowledge me. And that stung worse than any failed title match or concussion. 

It was like my heart had been ripped out and stabbed repeatedly with a knife before being set on fire. I tried to tough it out and managed to get all the way to our shared bedroom before I burst into tears again.

My pent up feelings, mixed with the concussion, my heavily drugged brain resulting from said concussion, and the overall exhaustion from everything all at once finally came to a head as I sobbed.

I collapsed to the floor, my knees being too weak to hold me up. Crawling up into the bed, I laid there and cried into my pillow as I cradled another to my chest. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe and snot ran down my face.

Eventually, I fell asleep, having not even bothered to change my clothes or take off the makeup that was now streaked down my face. 

I just hoped that when I woke up it would've all been a dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day sat around the living room, playing what they agreed would be the last match before they made dinner.

"Alright," Damian spoke as he stood up and began stretching out his sore limbs, "Who wants what?"

"I want chicken tenders!" Dominik shouted excitedly. 

Rhea laughed and ruffled his hair, sliding her fingers through his silky strands. "Okay, well while Dame and I get started on dinner how about you and Finn go pull Y/N out of the shower and she what she wants."

Dominik nodded like a happy little puppy before grabbing Finn's hand and dragging him upstairs to go find their girlfriend.

They went first to the master bathroom, noticing the light was still off and there was no trace of her having taken a shower. They continued on into the bedroom where they saw the curled-up figure of their girlfriend.

Finn went and turned the bedside lamp on, emitting a soft glow about the room. 

The two of them rounded the bed to face Y/N and wake her up. Dominik saw her first and stopped dead in his tracks, the blood draining from his face causing Finn to rush over.

Before he could even ask what was wrong he looked at Y/N and no longer needed to ask. 

Her face was puffy from tears, her makeup smeared and streaked down her face making it even more evident she had been crying. The pillow she held onto with a death grip had a wet stain on the top of it from previously fallen tears.

But the thing they were most concerned about, was the small bandage on the top of her forehead. Dried blood seeped out from underneath the bandage and was crusted around and in her hairline, the whole area swollen and red.

"What the hell happened?" Dominik asked Finn as they watched Y/N sleep. 

"I dunno," Finn replied in the stunned silence. "We need to get Rhea and Damian, though."

Down in the kitchen, Rhea and Damian danced around each other grabbing various ingredients as well as silverware and dishes. They made idle chat and were laughing when Finn and Dominik bounded down the stairs. 

"What'd Y/N say she wants for dinner?" Damian asked the two of them, his back turned to them as he fiddled with a dial on the stove. 

"She's asleep, but you guys need to come see, something happened," Finn told the two of them.

They both looked up from what they were doing, Rhea grabbing a towel to dry her hands. "What's wrong?" She asked as she ran around the counter and up the stairs to their shared room.

"I'm not even sure," Finn replied.

The four of them raced up the stairs and down the hallway to their bedroom, Rhea leading the way.

She slowly rounded the corner to face Y/N and upon seeing her in the same state the other two had, threw her hand to her mouth in horror as she gasped at the sight before her.

Damian, right behind her, made it to her side to see what all the fuss was about and all the blood drained from his face when he did. "Oh my god."

"Should we wake her up?" Dominik asked, like a scared child.

Rhea, ever the caretaker of the group, chimed in. "No, let's just wait until she wakes up. You guys go back downstairs and finish making dinner and I'll stay here till she wakes up."

"If you're staying here then so am I," Finn argued, taking a seat on the small ottoman at the end of the bed. Rhea nodded reluctantly before looking at the other two.

They both nodded, knowing they wouldn't win any fight they picked. They both walked over and gave Y/N a small kiss on the forehead, the opposite side of where the bandage was, before shuffling out of the room and down the stairs. Now, all they had to do was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until an hour later that Y/N finally began to stir.

Rhea and Finn both shot up, kneeling beside the bed as Fin gently stroked Y/N's cheek as she awoke. 

"What's going on?" Y/N asked groggily, thoroughly confused as hell and not knowing anything. After any normal nap, it takes a minute to even remember your own name, not to mention a nap after that kind of extreme emotional distress.

"We're just worried about you, sweetness," Rhea explained as gently as she could. If Y/N did actually have a concussion and didn't remember anything, she didn't want to freak her out any more than she possibly would already have.

"Why?" Y/N asked, gently pushing the two of them away form her to sit up and rub her eyes. In doing so, she felt the edge of her bandage and remembered everything. From losing the match, to making a truce with Bayley, to coming home and them not acknowledging her.

Rhea and Finn saw the look that overcame their girlfriend's face. Anger, betrayal, sadness.

She pushed them out of the way again, this time harder than any of them were expecting which sent the two flat on their asses as Y/N made a move to get out of bed.

"Woah, woah, woah. Where the hell do you think you're going?" Rhea immediately was on her feet and grabbed Y/N's arm to keep her from going any further. The look she received from Y/N before she pulled her arm out of her grip was scathing. 

"Nowhere that concerns you." She began to move towards the closet, starting to grab new clothes, seemingly to change into before she grabbed a bag and began stuffing the clothes in there.

"Y/N! What the hell is going on? Please, just talk to us!" Finn tried to reason with her. 

By now, the commotion had reached the ears of both Damian and Dominik downstairs and they raced up to the bedroom, just in time to hear their girlfriend's explanation.

"Talk to you? Talk to you?! I have been trying to talk to all four of you for weeks! And all I get in response is a thumbs up! Sometimes, not even every time!" She screamed, stepping out of the closet into full view of her partners. Clothes were left forgotten on the floor, and some half-hanging off their hangers as Y/N finally released all her pent-up emotions.

All four members of the Judgment Day stood in stunned silence as Y/N kept going, now unable to stop herself even if she tried.

"I was forcefully moved away from my partners, surrounded by people who hate me and then you four go out and have date nights without me. Constantly! I had a title match tonight against Bayley, we could've had two champions and you didn't even care! I lost because I hit my head and got a concussion and you don't care!" At this point, Y/N had started to grow emotional. Each word was a fight against the myriad of tears threatening to spill over.

The four of them felt awful, how could they have neglected their girl so badly for so long to get to this point?

"We're so sorry, cariño, we had no idea you even had a match last night-" Damian's attempts at an apology were cut off by Y/N.

"Of course you didn't! You never bother to talk to me anymore!" Her partners began to reach out for her as she started fully crying, the emotions winning this fight.

"I'm barely holding on," Y/N sobbed as she curled in on herself, rejecting any attempts at physical touch from her partners. "It's so bad, that my opponent had to come to my rescue after the match because no one else will even acknowledge me."

"Y/N," Dominik spoke, the sound of his heart breaking evident in his voice.

"No, just...don't," Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as she backed away from the four of them. 

The five partners stood around in silence, each member processing their emotions. 

Once Y/N's tears had slowed down, she wiped any remains off her face before facing her partners, who now surrounded her again. This time, however, they left a spot for her to escape.

"Hey, we're sorry, okay? But we promise to do better. This is new for all of us and we admittedly didn't handle it well but we're gonna fix that, alright?" Finn explained to her gently, so as not to scare her off.

"He's right, amor. We love you, so much. We'll do anything that you ask of us, please," Damian practically begged her.

Rhea and Dominik both clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces as they were both too choked up to speak, but they nodded in agreement to both of the boys' statements.

"Okay," Y/N broke down again, walking into the shared hug between the partners. They would make it up to her, just like they always did. Everything would be okay. They would be okay.

[usoinked]

I have a theory about this faction involving Jimmy but ion know if anyone tryna hear me…imma say it anyways😗…Jimmy might be the fourth man of this faction with Seth and Bron. How does this make sense? Okay let’s start with last year from Bad Blood…that was the only time we really seen Jimmy get that hug and recognization from Roman….only for it to diminish….also Jimmy showing up and helping Roman even though he along with Jey have been in situations countless times where Roman never came to there aid because he just wasn’t at work that day or off doing who knows what.

So let’s start off with the baseline right, Solo Jimmy and Jey were all traumatized during the bloodline. Solo was isolated and emotionally manipulated, Jey was physically, mentally, and emotionally abused just as well as Jimmy.

But their trauma took them on different paths! Solo becoming the tribal chief (being a mirror image to Roman), Jey overcoming the odds of being told he was worth nothing and becoming world heavyweight champ….but Jimmy…what about Jimmy…all that has come out of it was Big Jim. He was MVP of the Wargames match, has had multiple matches on Smackdown but only won like one or two (If I’m remembering correctly), but has not held any type of championship other than tag team gold while his younger twin has held IC and now world heavyweight (only one belt away from grandslam WHOO!) and Solo has at least held the North American championship from NXT, but for Jimmy nothing and right now he’s kind of in the background…not really seen. But even with the bloodline…we see Jimmy constantly be skipped over, for Jey and Solo. Jimmy was always the second option…or no option at all. What does that lead to….ABANDONMENT ISSUES ladies and gentlemen. Even as a heel, Roman picked Solo to be next in line instead of him, remember how he looked so happy only to be let down when Roman picked Solo. Levels to this.

But going forward and speaking of Wargames…remember who Jimmy talked to when trying to find a partner? Bron Breaker…Mind YOU this was the same person who took the title off Jey due to the New Bloodline trying to “help” Jey. But even still…THIS IS YOUR BROTHER’S OPP😭 anyway. Everyone’s mind immediately went to him talking to him about joining their team but not me…I always wondered what he was talking to him about, like what reason do you have to go to Bron?

But also notice while the Wargames team was forming together…Jimmy and Paul seemed to have…this sus interaction after his return. Paul winking at him and Jimmy nodding….when I first seen this I was like “what do y’all two have going on over there?” Mind you…we got a Jimmy heel run…but it wasn’t serious…and we KNOW Jimmy can be serious and that he’s not dumb at all. Constantly being picked over, abandoned, watching others around you be successful and get that recognition but all you get is a new name is…gonna get frustrating after a while. And to add onto that, no one takes Jimmy serious already and we see how even the fans skip over Jimmy….surely this can’t be done on purpose right?

But how would Jimmy of all people pull something like this off? We’ve seen Jimmy Jey Sami and Solo all have conversations with Seth. And Seth has even said Jimmy Jey and Sami are his friends. We seen what happened with Sami and Jey on Monday…but I have a feeling that Sami isn’t the only one that’s about to turn on Jey. Jimmy is going to turn too. Now will he go directly after Jey right now, I don’t think so. I think this turn could be more centered towards Roman for his constant abandonment to Jimmy and we see how the trauma has affected Jimmy in FULL FORCE. We know that Jimmy Uso has abandonment issues, Roman choosing Solo over him, his own twin choosing Sami over him, and Jimmy taking matters into his own hands to kick Jey in the face so he couldn’t leave him (he literally pushed him away out of fear he would get the title and leave him…again).

Soooo what does Jimmy do? He talks to Paul behind the scenes to come up with this plan possibly involving Seth and Bron in getting Roman to lose everything. Seth called Roman a tyrant (the tyrant he created mind you 🙄) so why would he pass up any opportunity to make Roman Reigns suffer? Plus in return it also helps put Jimmy in that light he hasn’t gotten, with Roman’s #1 OPP seeing what Roman doesn’t see in Jimmy. Not only was it easier because Punk was in the mix too, but Seth knew to take advantage of the one thing that both Punk and Roman had in common, Paul Heyman. (Paul being Punk’s best friend and Paul being Roman’s wiseman for 4 years). The last thing Roman lost that he did have, was his wiseman. Roman now has no one because the bloodline has disbanded and everyone has gone their separate ways. (Punk doesn’t really count 😭)

This is literally the humbling of Roman Reigns. I think what we could be seeing now is Jimmy’s side of things because the LAST person Roman would expect to be behind this is Jimmy. Someone who has always been loyal to him (except when he kicked him in the face but then went right back to him because he was afraid of being alone), but from Bad Blood to Wargames and a bit after (Tribal Combat on Netflix), Jimmy was there to defend Roman and be there when he needed him. We even seen in the tribal combat match, Solo VENTING his trauma to Roman as he’s hitting him. But with Jimmy, he’s never let out his frustration…like at all. While THAT is going on over there mind you (between Roman, Seth, Bron, Paul, and Punk), Jimmy is happily celebrating with Jey and Sami because the chips are falling into place. But with Jey about to be dealing with Sami soon and possibly Bron if he goes after Jey’s title, Jimmy can slip right into that faction. And I think IF HE IS the fourth member, he would reveal himself somewhere in between Sami and Bron’s feuds with Jey. Like the person you’re NOT paying attention to is the one you really should be watching out for. But this time it STILL wouldn’t be about hurting Jey, it would be about simply showing Roman that he really is nobody’s bitch. 😗

[godofdumpsterfalling]

Headcanon Dump - Hermes & Apollo ft. Dionysus (Riordanverse)

Because I have a mountain of these and if I don’t organize them they will be completely incoherent. Under a cut for length.

- Apollo basically raised Hermes, for all the value of “raised” when concerning gods.

- Maia did not want to be a mother, and had no idea how to. She tried, and did care about Hermes, but was secretly relieved when Hermes took to following Apollo everywhere. Zeus was really perfecting his parenting style of the day, which was caring about his kids from a distance (he had other priorities, they were not really near the top) and occasionally popping in to give some Fatherly Advice or have bonding moment (omg taking his kids fishing…deadbeat dad core for REAL) before fucking off again like “parental control duties DONE I am SUCH a good dad. See you again in like 50 years, sport!” It was particularly bad when Hermes was born.

- Hermes followed Apollo around for a solid couple hundred years, acting as his shadow pretty much. It drove Athena and Artemis CRAZY. Apollo’s extroverted ass was completely baffled by people being off put by his baby brother basically being attached to his back. He’s not gonna bother you he’s just gonna hang out?? What’s the problem??

- Hermes stayed in a younger form for a looong time because he knew Apollo would never say no to him if he looked cute enough. Until he got hit with the depression beam, he kept whipping that form out whenever he got in trouble. He’s baby, your honor, you can’t be mad at a BABY

- Hermes held Dionysus for 2 seconds before he decided he was willing to die for this little guy. The couple hours after he was born were spent by Hermes holding him up to random family members and going “LOOK AT HIM HES SO SMALL” and the family members going “Hermes please do your job”

- When Dionysus joined Olympus, Hermes eagerly took him under his wing in a similar manner to Apollo taking on Hermes. Not as much weird parental responsibility though. But he was still following Apollo everywhere so Apollo got TWO mischievous shadows. Much to Artmemis’ dismay. Why are there TWO OF THEM

- All they ever had to do was duck behind Apollo and he’d defend them against whoever they’d pissed off now even when they were 100% in the wrong. Especially when they were 100% in the wrong, honestly.

- Zeus and Hermes’ relationship has a lot of layers (a post for another time) but the bare bones basics is that early on Zeus just thought he was a Clown (that’s my funny boy <3) and nowadays he’s Zeus’ under appreciated, overworked personal assistant. Although he’s kind of been Zeus’ lapdog since the beginning. Father Please Notice Me I am not as shiny as Apollo but I can roll over so nice pls pls pls

- Hermes has not had a nap in the past century somebody please help him. Give your local delivery man a nice tip because he has like 20 other domains and would rather be doing Literally Anything Else. And also a hug maybe, the most contact he ever gets is when he brushes hands with whoever he’s giving a package. Somebody get this man a paid vacation he has been holding Olympus together with duct tape

- Hermes has the worst case of Middle Child Syndrome Known To Man

- Hermes and Artemis like each other! Shockingly. For reasons unrelated to Apollo, even. They just like to hang out. Hermes is one of the two Olympians she’s happy to be around <3

- Apollo has tried, with varying success, to get Hermes and Athena to be friends. The results have been… mixed.

- Athena, Apollo and Hermes will occasionally have absolutely legendary verbal smackdowns. So brutal that it would actually evaporate a mortal on the spot. Indescribable, really. Anyone who overhears them will never mentally recover,

[madhatterbri]

Head Over Boots | G.W.

Summary: hi lovely, can u plz write something where grayson waller and female reader have a whirlwind romance that leads them to getting married in a year?

Requested by: Anon

Author's Note: I don't know who you are, but I hope you get him, babe. ❤️

Happy Friday Night Smackdown, babes.

Grayson Waller Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl @magicalbuttertarts @hodgepodge-musings

You walked through the busy halls in the backstage area, still in a daze. All your life, you dreamed of working in WWE. You have watched countless hours of wrestling shows ever since you were a child. Now, here you are, the newest interviewer for the WWE.

Your first assignment was simple. Find some wrestlers who were willing to do some interviews for Tiktok. A couple of them already had their own channel, so this should be a breeze. It wasn't.

The wrestlers were so busy getting ready that they didn't have time for an interview. You were starting to give up hope until an Aussie accent grabbed your attention.

"Oi, new girl!" He called out. You turned and looked at him. Grayson Waller was in a cowboy hat and overalls. He even wore cowboy boots to pretend he was "one of the hicks in Kentucky."

You turned to him and smiled briefly. "Hey Grayson."

"You looking to give an interview?" He asked as he walked closer to you.

You paused as you stared at tan and muscular arms. After a couple of seconds, you shook your head to focus. You were a professional. You couldn't get caught slacking before your first paycheck. "I am."

Grayson grinned. "Well, tell me what you got."

The interview went smoothly. Your eyes looked at his muscles every so often. He maintained his composure, but his light eyes shined at you. He knew exactly what you were doing. A couple of times, he flexed to give you a better look. Once the interview ended, he stayed and chatted with you.

After a couple of minutes, you knew you had to end the conversation to find more wrestlers to interview. "I just wanted to thank you again, Grayson."

"No problem. It's nice to have a beautiful distraction running around here. I'll see you around," he told you.

You looked away as you felt your cheeks flush. The man was charming, and you were wrapped around his finger. Little did you know, he was also wrapped around yours.

Within the next few weeks, conversations between the two of you grew longer. A couple of times, you swore he sought you out. In the mornings, he would gift you your favorite morning drink and pastry. Grayson would help you with interview questions and even convinced his friends to participate. Within months, he took you to every city that happened to host Monday Night RAW. Moonlight dinners on rooftops, to quiet meals at diners, and everything in between gave your heart the fluttering feeling. He was the one. You just knew it. He did, too.

One night, you were sitting between his legs on the sand in a beach in Australia. The sun was starting to set on the horizon. A little vacation so you could meet his family and childhood friends. You took a deep, calming breath. Your head rested under his chin. His arms wrapped around your body as yours were to his. Grayson kissed the top of your head.

"This has been the perfect trip," you sighed. Your mind wandered to all the wonderful things you experienced in the few days you were here. The people were so kind, and his family was so welcoming.

"Almost perfect," he corrected.

"And what could make it more perfect?" You asked.

"Well, there you two are," his mother spoke. She walked through the sand with her phone in her hand. "I made some dessert before your long flight tomorrow. Something sweet before my baby and his girlfriend leave."

You stood up and reached out your left hand for him to take. Grayson moved to be on one knee. He held your left hand in his. His mother immediately started recording.

"Grayson?" You asked while trying to swallow the lump in your throat. He couldn't possibly be doing this now.

"I think it's my turn to ask the questions now, darling. Will you marry me?" He asked. His blue eyes stared at you.

Tears fell down your cheeks. You put your hand over your mouth. Unable to speak, you nodded before finally managing to squeak out a yes. Grayson slid the ring on your finger. He stood up quickly and kissed you. "Now this trip is perfect."

When you made it back from your trip, the wedding was already planned for. Wrestlers congratulated you on your upcoming nuptials. A couple of the girls took you out for one last night of fun before the wedding ceremony.

Now, you stood before him in front of your family and friends less than a year of meeting him. Tears had been falling down his cheeks the moment he saw you walk down the aisle. Something he was sure to deny for the rest of the night. Not that you cared. For now, you were and will always be Mrs. Grayson Waller.

[violetmuses]

Bron Breakker + Female Reader ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: WWE

Character: Bron Breakker

Author's Note: Hi! I've written another special request. Enjoy. - V. 💜 🏷 @arination99 @eringobragh420 @miss-kuki-nz @xbriexx

====

Intercontinental Champion Bron Breakker entered this large hallway before production would kick off another big-time episode of “Monday Night Raw.”

Time loomed more and more as workers hustled in all directions this evening, yet Bron paused when someone caught his eye this time around.

You stood near the cameras and would spruce right up, waiting for introductions.

As you stepped back wearing heels, Bron can't help watching.

Even right now, you looked so pretty and his heart dropped for the first time since in quite a while.

And truth be told, Bron regretted signing those divorce papers every time you smiled.

_____

Meeting each other years ago, you'd just graduated from college and returned home to clear your head through a much-needed break.

Visiting the grocery store one afternoon, you walked around to plan dinner, but recognized certain tattoos as one man also shopped.

“Bron?” You almost hesitated.

After turning around for a moment, Bron stood wearing an athletic set while his muscular frame nearly bulged from another t-shirt.

“Hey.” His strong yet gentle voice caught on. No matter what, Bron always recognized you.

And the rest is history.

*****

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to another special edition of Monday Night Raw! I'm here backstage with the intercontinental Champion Bron Breakker.” This evening, your professional voice grounded once of the televised segments.

As you held this microphone, Bron nearly frowned to stay composed during this interview.

“The dogs are barking and no matter what happens, I'll still walk out with this belt on my shoulder.” Bron spoke up while thousands of fans cheered from each wall.

While big-time events of Wrestlemania loomed more and more, this upcoming Fatal Four-way match would determine Bron’s run as champion.

______

His spiel worked for the cameras, but during one last commercial break, Bron caught your attention once more.

“Hey…” He stood almost nervously as this coy smile reached his own face here.

“Hi.” You held this beverage from catering while others made final arrangements

“I've wanted to talk about something. Um…” Bron almost struggled while expressing himself.

“Sis!” Right before you could respond, your longtime “brothers” Jimmy and Jey Uso walked together in the hall.

“Hello!” After quietly excusing yourself from Bron this time, you opened both arms to hug each twin.

“Are you busy after the show? We're hanging out with some people tonight.” Jimmy expressed kindness while inviting you.

“I don't see why not. Hopefully I can leave earlier than expected.” You accepted the offer.

“Oh! What's up, Bron?” Jimmy also noticed Breakker standing with time to spare.

“Hey, Jim.” Bron ended up clearing his throat for a second.

“You should stop by too, man. It'll be good for everybody, especially with Wrestlemania around the corner.” Jimmy's bright grin returned.

Right when Bron could refuse this chance, Jey Uso topped vibrant sunglasses over short curls and almost pouted toward his old rival now.

“C'mon…” Jey then almost whispered to Brekker as time dwindled.

“I'll go.” Bron took this opportunity and headed elsewhere, ready for the show to end.

*****

Nestled through an evening shade of towered palm trees, this nearly sprawling mansion welcomed several vehicles once Bron arrived.

“Wow…” No amount of cash or lineage would disguise gentle shock as Bron noticed the unfamiliar home.

On the other hand, Jimmy and Jey had never invited Breakker out like this. Both twins usually met him around places for workouts instead.

Who knows what could happen next? Bron thought.

_____

Upon entry, Bron glanced around the foyer to see various people. Even “Smackdown” favorites mingled together as music played out loud.

Your own laughter echoed somewhere in the kitchen as Jimmy's wife Naomi offered small talk.

“Excuse me?” For a moment, Bron tried to speak up again.

“I'll go. Jimmy needs help in the backyard.” Naomi held your shoulder and turned away, but you knew better.

“Whose house is this? Security just followed the address.” Bron didn't know what to think.

“Let's just say that my brothers know someone very rich.” While mentioning Jimmy and Jey again, you nodded to admire this moment.

“That's fair.” Bron said. Your vague response grounded more than enough possibilities around the job itself.

“You wanted to talk about something?” Your voice finally addressed Bron.

“Yeah, I…” Bron failed this important conversation again.

“Ricky!” Someone called NXT star Ricky Saints out of nowhere.

“I'm sorry.” You whispered near Bron once more and planned to find commotion, but Ricky moved steps ahead.

“It's jumping tonight and we're not even ready for Vegas yet. How are you, Beautiful?” Facing your path this time, Ricky noted Wrestlemania and chuckled over his accent.

“Jimmy never told me that you were coming tonight, Rick. Hi.” You welcomed Saint as expected.

“Surprise. I'll be outside if you need anything, okay?” Ricky's hand lingered over your touch and Bron noticed, observing in silence.

“All right.” You nodded toward Ricky, but offered this gentle warning. “Have fun, but don't break anything, remember?”

Once Ricky stepped away and reached the backyard patio, Bron couldn't help himself this time.

“What's going on?” Bron asked. “First everyone here knows your name and then Ricky just surprised you?”

“You're jealous.” You've finally caught Bron’s secret.

“Could you blame me?” Bron told his truth. “We can't even talk anymore.”

“I'm here now.” You stood tall. “What do you want?”

In that moment, words locked once more when Bron noticed you.

“I'm sorry things didn't work out…” Bron attempted.

“Life is different at this point.” You turned away from Bron and chose to dance with Naomi outdoors, leaving the past behind.

[earthstellar]

Miko and Holding a Grudge: Storytime is Learning Time

I was thinking about how in the final episode of TFP, Miko uses the "I'm going to beat your ass" armour to punch Knockout clean across the face

Miko punches him so quickly and efficiently that I genuinely could not get a screenshot of the impact moment. lmao

And there are a lot of good reasons for her to want to slap this twink into the stratosphere, but I was thinking about any specific grudges Miko might have personally against Knockout to help fuel that punch

Because typically Miko goes in with a sort of "I learned this by watching WWE with Bulkhead and I'm excited to hurt you" tiny human wrecker energy and is naturally hyped, so she tends to go in with a slightly showy approach to delivering a beatdown, which makes sense.

We know she watches stuff like monster truck rallies with Bulkhead, and we know she's watched Bulkhead and Wheeljack pretty closely, and this has had an impact on her developing her personal fighting style: High energy, maybe a couple attempts at some kind of signature moves. she's learned from TV shows and watching actual factional alien warfare play out in the Nevada desert. Shit's wild, and so is she.

But when she punches Knockout, it's a totally silent, quick, efficient hit-- which is pretty different to how Miko usually approaches "the smackdown".

Sure, part of it is because Knockout is sort of ruining a huge moment for the Autobots by quipping at a particularly annoying moment to do so, and she probably just wants him to shut the fuck up as quickly as possible so they can all get back to enjoying watching the revitalisation of Cybertron.

And they're all probably a bit tired from even managing to get to this point.

But then I remembered:

In the episode Flying Mind, Miko and Raf help Fowler off the Nemesis after he's been incapacitated.

But Jack stays behind, and when Knockout snaps out of Trypticon's stasis, he attempts to power drill through Jack's head/upper torso.

Ratchet comes through the ground bridge and punches Knockout, in the same way Miko punches Knockout in the series finale. One hit, and we're done here.

(Sorry for the crunchy quality screenshot, my internet connection is a bit crunchy itself at the moment lmao)

Now, Miko wasn't there to witness this, but we know Miko frequently asks the others to tell her about anything she misses, either because she's been asked to stay home or because things kicked off when she was otherwise not around. She likes to hear battle stories. She's actively jealous of the others when they get to go deal with cool shit and she can't for various reasons.

So we can assume that she asked Jack what happened, or perhaps Ratchet briefed everyone once the other Autobots were revived from temporary stasis, and she would have been present for that in the base.

Miko holds a grudge. There is an entire episode where her and Wheeljack essentially go on an ill-advised revenge mission after Bulkhead is injured. She operates on that mafia level shit, wanting revenge so badly that she essentially withholds information from Wheeljack until he agrees to let her tag along.

And while she learned from that experience, it does hint at the type of mindset she has-- Don't fuck with her friends, or she will very much hold onto that anger until she gets the chance to act on it.

When she punches Knockout, it's a quick, clean punch. Which makes sense contextually for that scene, she's not going to haul completely off on him in that moment.

But it also echoes how Ratchet dealt with him when Knockout was threatening Jack, and that seems like the kind of detail Miko would remember after having it described to her.

She has a bit of a vengeful streak, and even though she does learn not to act on desires for revenge, she's still a kid and god she loves fighting so much, and there is no way she forgot about that one time Knockout tried to kill her friend with a fucking drill-- Even if she didn't get to witness it, it's likely she was told about it in some way, and she's been holding onto that for a while.

So I just really like that her punching Knockout is a mirror of when Ratchet punched Knockout previously, because we know she's very good at paying attention to detail when it comes to fighting, and we know that she learns from observation and from listening to battle stories.

It makes a lot of sense if she just recognised Knockout as being that one bot who nearly killed Jack and remembered how Jack likely described the incident to her later (or may have gotten details from any debriefing Ratchet may have provided at the base), and in that moment recalled that Ratchet took him down in one hit, so she should probably just do the same.

It's quick, it worked before on this exact bot, it'll probably work again.

Miko does learn. She very much holds a grudge. And I like that even though her actions in the finale make sense even without the possible background connection to a prior episode, it does perfectly make sense either way.

You know she begged Jack for all the details later, and you know she committed that shit to memory.

If Ratchet can knock out Knockout, so can she.

And she's not having their victory moment fucked up by some dude who seriously put them in danger on many previous occasions, even if he came around to the "winning team" in the end.

anyway you just know Miko is a mascot for the Wreckers later on, like there's no way Wheeljack and/or Bulkhead doesn't custom paint the side of a ship at some point like a WW2 aircraft lmao but it's just a painting of Miko laughing maniacally while punching a boulder or something