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Even almost a year later, I STILL am not used to him clean shaven. I was always so used to him with a beard, ever since I started seeing him on NXT.

Cruz del Toro without his beard looks crazy.

For a moment I thought that they'd replaced him and were just waiting to see if anyone noticed

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I miss the original Legado del Fantasma. I really miss the original Legado del Fantasma. Their run in NXT was so good. And I just miss seeing Santos, Raul, and Joaquin as a team.

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Who has more ink, Rhea or Kate?

Rhea barely

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Do PrimeraBatNightStorm have any matching tattoos (other than the one Rhea and Toni have of the date of Evolution)

Stephanie got a bat tattoo on her wrist and Kate got tiny devil horns on her hand

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the iinspiration | tna impact! (8/14/25).

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The IInspiration are very much.....IIconic

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Rhea sighed, rubbing her hands against her face. She was pissed at Asuka and Kairi for not helping out Iyo, their friend. She couldn’t just sit by and watch Iyo be beat up like she was, even if it meant she had to forgo her shirt (she was pretty sure that Toni and Kate watching back in Gotham definitely didn’t mind….). Shaking her head to clear it, Rhea pushed the door to the locker room open and sat in the chair, leaning her head back and covering her face with her hands.

She faintly heard the door open before a familiar weight settled on her lap. Almost instinctively, Rhea’s hands went around the waist.

“You okay?” Stephanie Vaquer murmured softly. Rhea opened her eyes and looked at her girlfriend.

“Yeah, fine,” she muttered. Stephanie arched a perfect eyebrow.

“I may not have been with you for years like Toni and Kate have been, but I do know you. You are lying,” she said. Rhea sighed, tugging Stephanie closer to her.

“Just…pissed off. Asuka and Kairi say they are Iyo’s friends but they didn’t even bother going out to help her. It doesn’t matter that Iyo told them not to, she told them not to for the match. But once Roxanne and Raquel teamed up against her….” Rhea shook her head. Stephanie kissed her cheek quickly.

“I know, I get it,” she said softly. Rhea smiled and cupped her face, kissing her.

“Y’know, we never did finish what we were doing earlier,” she said, her eyes dark. Stephanie played with the edges of Rhea’s bra.

“I don’t know…don’t know if Toni and Kate would get jealous,” she joked. Rhea laughed softly.

“Toni is definitely going to be topping her tonight, they won’t mind if we have our own time,” she said, the heat clear in her eyes. Stephanie leaned in and kissed her.

“Then I am all for it,” she said….

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I don’t ship Rhiyo romantically but goddamn do I love them as friends!!!!!!

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Oh she DEFINITELY has their initials engraved on each girls favorite. How? Magic lol

Who of her girlfriends likes Rhea’s tongue piercing the most?

All of them.....for reasons

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And of course they all have different ones they like the best….

Who of her girlfriends likes Rhea’s tongue piercing the most?

All of them.....for reasons

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This gave me super fluffy feels

Ink and Ash

Tattoo Artist!Rhea Ripley x Reader

TW: past abusive relationship

Summary: You are running from your past, altering every aspect of yourself to remain hidden. But when tattoo artist Rhea offers you both a safe space and the design you’ve always dreamed of, you discover that some people can be worth trusting.

The little chime above the glass door rang as you stepped into the studio again. The scent of disinfectant mixed with faint hints of ink and fresh coffee.

You kept your head low, pulling your coat tighter around you, eyes scanning the walls plastered with flash designs and framed photographs of healed tattoos.

It was the same every month.

You came in, you lingered, you left.

From her station, Rhea noticed you immediately. She was hard to miss herself, broad shoulders and inked arms on display in a black vest, hair swept back. Her hands were steady as she worked on the outline of a rose on the client’s forearm, but her gaze flicked to you more than once. You thought you were subtle. You weren’t.

By the time her client left, you were halfway to the door.

“Oi,” her voice carried across the room, low and rough. “You planning on ever getting one, or are you just here to window shop?”

You froze, heart in your throat. Slowly, you turned back.

“I… just like looking,” you muttered.

“Every month? Same day, same time? That’s not looking, Love. That’s stalling.” She leaned against the counter now, arms folded. “What’s the deal?”

Your stomach knotted. You wanted to walk out, but something in her tone wasn’t mocking. It was curious. Concerned, even.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

Her brows rose. ���Can’t what? Get a tattoo? You allergic to ink or something?”

“No. I… It’s not that.” You hesitated, then glanced at the front windows. The street outside was quiet, but your skin prickled as if someone might be watching. “It’s complicated.”

She tilted her head. “Try me.”

The weight of her stare was almost unbearable, but in a strange way, it felt safer than the silence you’d been living in.

You stepped closer to the counter, lowering your voice.

“I’m hiding from someone. He… hurt me. Bad. And he kept finding me no matter where I went. I changed my name, my hair, I stopped taking photos, I stopped… everything. But I’ve wanted a tattoo for years. Just one. I come here to… remind myself I’m still me. Even if I can’t actually do it.”

Her expression changed in a way you couldn’t quite read. She didn’t pity you, but something fierce burned behind her eyes.

“Where is he now?” she asked.

“In prison. But that doesn’t stop my head from thinking he’s just around the corner.” You laughed shakily. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you.”

“Don’t apologise,” she said firmly. “Listen, when you’re in here, no one touches you. I’ve got cameras, I’ve got a lock on the door, and I’ve got two fists I’m not afraid to use. You want a tattoo, I’ll make sure you get one without a single worry. Alright?”

Your chest tightened at her certainty.

“You would… do that?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Her lips quirked slightly. “So, what’s this dream tattoo of yours?”

You hesitated, then pulled a small folded paper from your coat pocket. You carried it for years, creased and worn. She took it gently, unfolding it to reveal your sketch, it was a small moth, wings spread, delicate lines.

“This is beautiful,” she said. “Where do you want it?”

You swallowed. “Here,” you pointed to your inner wrist.

Her gaze flicked from the drawing to your wrist, her hand brushing yours lightly. “Then let’s do it.”

Your breath caught. “Now?”

“Now.”

She moved around the studio with quiet efficiency, setting up her station. You sat in the chair, heart pounding, but the hum of the machine was oddly soothing. Rhea kept her tone low and steady as she worked.

“Tell me about the moth,” she said.

“It… means change. Transformation. Even if you’re scared.”

She nodded. “Fitting. You’re tougher than you think, you know.”

You looked at her. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’ve seen you walk through that door every month. That tells me enough.”

When she finished, she wrapped your wrist gently. “There. Now you’ve got your moth, and no one can take it from you.”

You smiled for the first time in what felt like years. “Thank you.”

Weeks passed after your unexpected appointment, and you found yourself visiting her more often.

She made you tea in the back room, told you stories about the wildest clients she had, and listened when you finally started talking about your life again.

One evening, as you lingered in the quiet after closing, she set down her cleaning supplies and looked at you for a long moment.

“You’ve been different lately,” she said.

“How so?”

“You’re not just looking over your shoulder anymore. You’re looking at me.”

You felt your cheeks heat. “I am.”

Her smirk softened into something warmer. She stepped closer, resting her hand over yours.

“I like you. And I don’t want you to feel like you’ve got to keep running when you’re with me.”

You could only nod and lean closer to her for a kiss.

The kiss was slow, careful, like she was making sure you could pull away if you wanted.

You didn’t. That night, she drove you home, but instead of saying goodbye at the door, she stayed, holding you until you fell asleep in her arms.

In the morning, she was still there, her hand resting over the bandaged moth on your wrist.

“You’re safe,” she murmured when you stirred. “As long as I’m breathing, you’re safe.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believed it.

Masterlist

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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What I want to happen IF Naomi is out and vacating the title is actually for Stephanie to face someone of Naomi’s choosing. And win OFC because I fucking love Stephanie Vaquer

If Naomi is out, I'd say have a triple threat match at Clash In Paris for the title.

Rhea v Iyo v Stephanie

And have Stephanie win. I'd like to see her take on the title.

I love Rhea and Iyo but I want them to be a tag team and they've both had the title. Someone else needs a run.

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Who of her girlfriends likes Rhea’s tongue piercing the most?

All of them.....for reasons

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I sincerely hope WWE “signing” La Hiedra is just for merchandise purposes. Considering Stephanie Vaquer has restraining order against her, and Stephanie is currently one of their hottest stars in terms of popularity (and looks), I would sincerely hope WWE doesn’t fuck Stephanie over

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I’m all for too!Rhea but uh….yeah. Stephanie Vaquer could totally make her bottom.

this fic contains smut, and Rhea is a bottom in this you have been warned.

Rhea leaned back against the hotel room wall, arms crossed, that cocky smirk tugging at her lips.

“You really think you can handle me, Vaquer?” she taunted, voice dripping with challenge.

Stephanie didn’t answer right away—just set her bag down, removed her jacket, and slowly rolled up the sleeves of her black button-up. The deliberate calm made Rhea’s smirk widen.

“Oh, I get it,” Rhea continued, tilting her head. “You’re gonna play the quiet, scary type until I break you.”

Stephanie finally looked at her, eyes sharp and unreadable. “You’re cute when you think you’re in control, muñeca.” The word came out like a dare.

Rhea pushed off the wall, sauntering closer. “And you’re cute when you think you can tell me what to do.”

The distance closed in an instant—Stephanie’s hand shot out, fingers gripping Rhea’s jaw hard enough to still her smirk. “You’ve got a big mouth, Ripley,” she said in a low, dangerous tone. “Let’s see if you can keep it after I’m done with you.”

Rhea’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of heat in them now. “Try me.”

Stephanie shoved her back against the wall, one hand pinning her there by the throat while the other slipped under the hem of her shirt, nails dragging lightly over her stomach. “I don’t try, muñeca. I do.”

She kissed her then—not soft, not gentle, but claiming. When she pulled back, she spun Rhea toward the bed with a forceful push.

“On your knees,” Stephanie ordered.

Rhea stayed standing, smirk back in place. “Make me.”

Stephanie’s eyes glinted with something dangerous. “Gladly.”

She grabbed Rhea by the back of the neck, forcing her down to the floor. The movement was rough enough to make Rhea gasp, but she didn’t resist—at least, not yet.

“You’re mouthy,” Stephanie murmured, crouching down in front of her. “I’m going to enjoy shutting you up.”

Her hand threaded into Rhea’s hair, tilting her head back. “Open.”

Rhea arched a brow but obeyed, her tongue flicking against her teeth in defiance. Stephanie’s smirk deepened. “Good girl… at least for now.”

She leaned in, voice a low whisper against Rhea’s lips. “You keep pushing me, muñeca, and I’m going to ruin you so thoroughly you won’t remember how to be a brat.”

The challenge in Rhea’s eyes didn’t fade—but for the first time, there was hesitation. And Stephanie saw it.

Stephanie’s grip in Rhea’s hair tightened, forcing her to hold still. “You think mouthing off’s gonna save you, muñeca? Not tonight.”

Before Rhea could fire back, Stephanie’s mouth was on hers again—hard, demanding—stealing her breath and leaving her no room to think. When she pulled back, her hand trailed down Rhea’s throat to the top of her gear, fingers hooking into it.

With one sharp tug, she yanked the zipper down, exposing pale skin. “You make such a mess of yourself just from being manhandled, don’t you?”

Rhea scoffed, trying to mask the flush in her cheeks. “In your dreams.”

Stephanie chuckled darkly. “No… right here, in my hands.” She shoved Rhea onto her back on the bed, climbing over her with the weight of someone who knew exactly how to control her.

Her thigh pressed firmly between Rhea’s legs, and when she rocked forward, the friction drew a stifled gasp from the Aussie. Stephanie’s smirk deepened. “There it is… that sound I wanted.”

Rhea tried to push up on her elbows, but Stephanie caught her wrists and pinned them above her head in one hand. With the other, she slid her palm slowly down Rhea’s side, nails grazing her ribs.

“You’re gonna say ‘please’ before I’m done with you.”

“In your—” Rhea’s voice broke into a moan as Stephanie ground her thigh harder between her legs.

“What was that?” Stephanie taunted, leaning down so her lips brushed the shell of Rhea’s ear. “Couldn’t hear you over how wet you’re getting.”

Her free hand moved lower, slipping beneath Rhea’s waistband without warning. The Aussie bucked against her touch, biting back a sound that was far too needy for someone still trying to play defiant.

“Mm, there’s my brat,” Stephanie whispered. “So tough until I get my fingers on you.”

Two fingers slid inside, the heel of her palm grinding against Rhea’s clit as Stephanie set a relentless pace. Every time Rhea’s hips lifted to meet her, Stephanie slowed just enough to keep her teetering at the edge.

“You wanna come?” Stephanie asked, her tone deceptively soft.

Rhea clenched her jaw, refusing to give her the satisfaction.

Stephanie’s smirk returned, dangerous and sure. “Fine. Then I’ll keep you here all night.”

Her thumb found Rhea’s clit, circling faster, her fingers curling just right until the Aussie’s composure cracked. “Please—fuck—please,” Rhea finally gasped.

Stephanie’s eyes lit up. “There’s my good girl.”

She didn’t hold back after that—driving her fingers deeper, harder, until Rhea was crying out, hips jerking as her orgasm tore through her. Stephanie didn’t stop until she had coaxed a second shudder from her, leaving her trembling and breathless.

Stephanie leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to Rhea’s jaw. “See? Obedience looks good on you, muñeca.”

Rhea glared weakly up at her, chest still heaving. “You’re not keeping me down next time.”

Stephanie only smirked. “Next time, I’ll make you beg sooner.”

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It should also be noted this was Rhea’s first real tattoo. Make of that what you will.

Reminder that Rhea and Toni got matching tattoos

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This is the best way to put it. It is just….so damn offensive that a so-called “feminist” author did that