#megastar is fine too

[unepersonnelouche]

I’d need a hundred pages more to make their fucked up relationship justice, but alas, I don’t have the energy or the time to make a whole comic book….

4 pages will have to suffice (took me an eternity to make already)

[starscream-is-my-wife]

I was thinking about a Starscream who’s the Decepticon leader, a Megatron who is second in command and how that would work, probably Starscream who was battling to take some territory and freed the lower caste as a side thing but a young Megatron was like “please let me help you!” He’s a pretty charismatic guy for recruiting bots, now the problem is half of the army is loyal to the second in command and murmurs about how he should be the one in charge is always around. But if Starscream keeps his control over Megatron then he has control over the whole army, now how long can he convince Megatron that he’s nothing without someone to wield him?

[plumipal]

Daughter of evil Vil

Once again a completely self indulgent post, sorry for the delay got a 40° fever and fell like 3 times during the making of this BUT IM FINE NOW! These yans really are out to kill me after all I've put em though lmfao

So imagine, somewhere after chap 5 where vil and you have gotten to know eachother way better since the VDC. You're all and up thinking about the music you loved back from your own home, wishing you just could hear it once again. You basically had everything memorised, but it's not just the same!!

So, taking the matter into your own hands, you contact vil about wanting to stage a musical and if he perhaps wanted to be the "main villian" (aka both the main character and your favorite character). Vil, for once, isn't upset about being the main villain, on the contrary he's ecstatic! He can barely keep his mask up as he tells you that he would LOVE more than ANYTHING to be Riliane...

You're quick to thank him and hug him, him of course savoring every second of it. You're quick to get to work to writing the script/lyrics from memory along with sewing vils dress for him (it's like several dates over at ramshackle for him because he gets to be in such close vicinity with you alone.

The play is an absolute success, vil gives his absolute ALL, just for you, and ONLY for you. He doesn't cate who else is seeing the damn musical, all he cares about at this point is your gave on him and your approval.

He feels your gaze on him for the entirety, too blissful about being the center of your attention to even hold up his social persona incase anyone is filming after the musical. He just can't function correctly when you look at him, when you smile at him, when you do anything really. He's smitten, down bad, in love and everything inbetween.

Ace and Deuce can't stand how Vil is blatantly flirting with you, resulting in them trying to drag you away after the show (only to be stopped by vil, he has charmed you during this performance, and of course he shows in that he has a gift for you back at his dorm.

The gift being smothering you in his love and kisses, almost some sort of cuteness aggression as he can't stop himself. The blood sweat an tears you put into this and how you chose him to be the main character almost moved him to tears after all, you had to be rewarded <3

Not long after the musical, people had sent their gossip photos around to several accounts on magicam as to get some juicy drama our of the megastar. But, at this point, vil is too smitten with you to even care about his social status anymore. He doesn't care about magicam or being better than niege liek he used to. He only cares about you and your approval.

Still a short post, but I hope you all enjoy! I love love LOVE the musical, and recommend yall give it a litsen! The evillious chronicles on YouTube, especially the newer one (Karen aka the girl who plays riliane is just so much more vil coded imo). Anyway hope yall enjoy :P

Link to the song in question:

[iliketangerines]

Hey hey- i am literally obsessed with your writing 🤭 first time requesting something so sorry if it's weird but could you write Something for mk1 men (whichever character you like) with a fem reader that is like in her own world most of the time and one time she gets so startled or surprised that she slaps them across the face? It's perfectly fine If you wouldn't like to write it tho :D

(sorry if its confusing English is not my first language)

instinctual reaction

a/n: n/a

pairing: johnny cage x gn!reader

warnings: minor injury mention

Johnny stares at you from across the room, eating his food slowly as Kung Lao and Raiden talk to each other right next to him

you sit across from Kenshi, the both of silent except for the occasional murmurs of Japanese as you eat

although Kenshi was quiet and spoke only when needed or to make a jab at Johnny, you were silent as a ghost, showing up and scaring the shit out of everyone when you did so

you even scared Lord Liu Kang whenever you just showed up in the room, footsteps silent even on the creaking wooden floorboards

on top of that, you rarely spoke English, only ever speaking Japanese with Kenshi, and only ever spoke English when he wasn’t around and you needed something

Johnny needed the attention from you, everyone here, even Kenshi, had given him attention in one way or another

you, however, ignored him, not even sparing him a glance even when he directly talked to you, and it irritated the hell out of him

he needed you talk to him, to acknowledge his presence, anything

he had tried crazy stunts, shown off his best moves in the training field, tries his best pick-up lines, said crazy shit while you were around

and still, you never said anything to him or even looked at him, almost as if he was a buzzing fly in the room

actually, more like he didn’t exist because you even gave the flies attention, killing them when they buzzed too close to your blade

the worst part was that you talked to everyone, gave formal greetings to Raiden and Kung Lao, conversed with Kenshi in Japanese, talked to Liu Kang and Geras

everyone except the super megastar action movie star

Johnny feels a tap on his shoulder, and he looks over to Kung Lao with a teasing smirk as he tracks the actor’s gaze to you on the other side of the room

the monk teases him, saying in a singsong voice that the actor liked you, and Johnny rolls his eyes and says he did not like you, he was just confused by you, that’s all

Raiden gives a little shake of his head, a small smile as he sips on some tea, and Kung Lao just slaps Johnny on the back and says that he doesn’t believe a single word that the actor says

Kenshi spares a glance over to Johnny to see the fuss and gives him a glare before turning his attention back to you, and the actor frowns at the sight of you talking back to the swordsman

looking back at his meal, he decides that he would get your attention no matter what, and Johnny sits in silence as he formulates his plan

Johnny stares at you from across the room, eating his food slowly as Kung Lao and Raiden talk to each other right next to him

you sit across from Kenshi, the both of silent except for the occasional murmurs of Japanese as you eat

although Kenshi was quiet and spoke only when needed or to make a jab at Johnny, you were silent as a ghost, showing up and scaring the shit out of everyone when you did so

you even scared Lord Liu Kang whenever you just showed up in the room, footsteps silent even on the creaking wooden floorboards

on top of that, you rarely spoke English, only ever speaking Japanese with Kenshi, and only ever spoke English when he wasn’t around and you needed something

Johnny needed the attention from you, everyone here, even Kenshi, had given him attention in one way or another

you, however, ignored him, not even sparing him a glance even when he directly talked to you, and it irritated the hell out of him

he needed you talk to him, to acknowledge his presence, anything

he had tried crazy stunts, shown off his best moves in the training field, tries his best pick-up lines, said crazy shit while you were around

and still, you never said anything to him or even looked at him, almost as if he was a buzzing fly in the room

actually, more like he didn’t exist because you even gave the flies attention, killing them when they buzzed too close to your blade

the worst part was that you talked to everyone, gave formal greetings to Raiden and Kung Lao, conversed with Kenshi in Japanese, talked to Liu Kang and Geras

everyone except the super megastar action movie star

Johnny feels a tap on his shoulder, and he looks over to Kung Lao with a teasing smirk as he tracks the actor’s gaze to you on the other side of the room

the monk teases him, saying in a singsong voice that the actor liked you, and Johnny rolls his eyes and says he did not like you, he was just confused by you, that’s all

Raiden gives a little shake of his head, a small smile as he sips on some tea, and Kung Lao just slaps Johnny on the back and says that he doesn’t believe a single word that the actor says

Kenshi spares a glance over to Johnny to see the fuss and gives him a glare before turning his attention back to you, and the actor frowns at the sight of you talking back to the swordsman

looking back at his meal, he decides that he would get your attention no matter what, and Johnny sits in silence as he formulates his plan

the next morning, he gets up bright and early, and he brushes his teeth and washes his face, as he puts on moisturizer and checks that he hasn’t missed a single spot, Kenshi enters the restroom and leans on the doorway

the swordsman just stares at the actor, and Johnny finally turns back to meet the swordsman’s glare

Kenshi says to back off from you, that you aren’t interested when you have business in protecting earthrealm, and that you especially weren’t interested in a egotistical actor that couldn’t bother to attend most of the lessons

Johnny scoffs and gives Kenshi an offended look, asking if he was the one to put you up to ignoring him all the time

Kenshi ignores Johnny’s question, saying you certainly aren’t interested in talking to someone who was only here to benefit themselves, even Kung Lao had an interest in protecting Earthrealm because he wanted to protect Raiden

you had spent so much of your life training to protect Earthrealm, and Johnny’s relaxed attitude had annoyed you, made your whole life a joke

Johnny stares at Kenshi, letting out a small oh in response at the realization that he had unknowingly belittled your whole life, and walks off to the dining hall

he stares at the baozi and grabs an extra one and goes off to find you

as he finishes his breakfast, he  finds you in the courtyard atop one of the stones, legs crossed and palms resting in your lap as you meditate

he walks up to you, kicking away rocks in the dust as he does so, and he says that he got you breakfast and puts a baozi on the stone next to you

taking a second to just gather his words, Johnny says that he’s sorry for making your whole life a joke, he really was trying to take the whole Earthrealm defender think seriously, and that he’ll try earnestly

you don’t open your eyes, face calm as a pool of water, and Johnny stands there awkwardly for a few moments longer before bidding you a quiet farewell and leaving

sulking throughout morning training, he tries to give himself a pep talk that you simply were just processing the information

and then, as he watches you finally arrive to morning training a few minutes before, a half-eaten baozi in your hand, his confidence soars at the fact that you had accepted his food and had given him a indirect acceptance of his apology

he doesn’t pester you for the rest of morning training, focusing on his own efforts of trying to improve his fighting style, but near the end, as he grows more restless and bored with practicing the same drills over and over again, he spares a glance to you

you’ve barely broken a sweat and continue to hold the sword in your hand and face off against the dummy, and you practice the same move over and over again, hitting the dummy directly in the neck

it’s almost as if you’re in a trance, and Johnny glances down at your unbandaged hands, knowing that you were definitely growing blisters on your palms

he wonders if you always train until you bleed, and he sighs as you wince, almost imperceptible as you whack the dummy once again

Johnny rolls his eyes and heads over to the medical wing, thankfully close by the training fields, and he grabs a bandage and some antiseptic wipes and heads back to the fields

walking over to you, you still haven’t noticed him, still hitting at the dummy with controlled breaths and precise moves

he isn’t sure if he should interrupt you when you’re training, but even from behind you, he could see how red and irritated your hands had become, blisters forming on the palm

tapping on your shoulder, you whip around, sword coming down at his neck, and Johnny yelps and puts his hand up to stop your arm

the blade comes down and stops just in the nick of time, and Johnny can feel the wooden blade resting against his neck lightly

if it were metal, there would have been a slight trickle of blood dripping down his neck

you stop and take a breath, removing your sword to go back to training, and Johnny stops you, holding up the bandages and grabbing onto your hands

he can feel you try and tug them away, as if offended by the touch, but then you notice the blisters on your hands and frown, like the pain had just hit you

Johnny sighs and says to hold your hands up, and you hesitate for a moment, before holding your hands up and letting him bandage up your hands

he says that he’s had a lot of practice bandaging his own wounds, being your own stunt actor with real props meant a lot of injuries

as he wipes away any bacteria with the wipes and tightly wraps your hand, he says to be more careful and gives you a slight bow in respect

you mumble out a thanks, and it’s so quiet that Johnny almost misses it, nearly falling over in the process

it was quiet, but it was still there, and Johnny says no problem, walking away with a big smile on his face

[partycatty]

thinking about young mk11 johnny being a bad boyfriend then you meet him again years later when he’s mature and he REGRETS IT SO BAD

i have so many ideas but i can’t get them out recently so ur account gives me life lol <3

OUGH it aches in the bones

older!johnny cage > as the day you left

notes: oooghuig "in another life" trope hurts so BAD.

[ masterlist ]

• a military job wasn't in your grand plan, but a position opened for equipment maintenance it was hard to turn down the potentially heavy paycheck.

• you were buried in your paperwork, taking quick strides to your office to make sense of your diagnostics and order the proper parts for one of the on-field machines when you slam into what feels like a brick wall. just as the force of the blow sends you backward, a hand grabs your arm and suspends you mid-fall.

• you don't even have time to properly react to the scene, only opening your harshly clenched eyes to meet your savior.

• "sorry, i wasn't looking where i—" your apology was cut off when you properly processed just who was in front of you. even with the tattoo peeking through his shirt, you knew that face from anywhere. "johnny?"

• you expected johnny to not even remember you, maybe take a second to realize you weren't just a fan. this expectation is torn from you when he replies with your name, loud and clear. his eyes are wide. gently, he lets go of you to allow you to regain your footing, pulling away as if you were a glass doll bound to shatter.

• he looked the same as when you walked out, perhaps a little more weathered but glowing with charm and personality just as he did twenty odd years ago. thankfully, you thought, he never lost that puppy-like shine in his eyes.

• the moment was lost to him the second he locked eyes. just like that, a torrent of memories flooded back to him. you two were young, too young to be serious in his eyes. johnny was in his acting prime and he couldn't help but flaunt it. all those smiles and sparkly outfits for the cameras but as soon as you were behind closed doors you were nothing more but exhausted.

• "i can't keep living like my life is under a microscope," you huffed, shrugging off the luxury shawl johnny went through hell to make sure you'd have for the red carpet. "would it kill you to just settle down, slow down? i want kids, johnny! i want to go to the store without paparazzi up my ass, i don't need stalkers on our property, i don't need the gold and glamor all the damn time!"

• "well, that's on you for choosing a megastar!" johnny shouted back, undoing his tie in one harsh tug. "all you've ever done is complain when you are literally living large! mansions, super cars, money! and you're complaining."

• you spin around, a horrified expression on your face as you unpacked his wording. "i didn't choose a megastar," your voice drops, so angry you couldn't bring yourself to shout. "i chose john carlton. where the hell is he now, because all i see is a narcissistic child that refuses to grow up."

• you slide your engagement ring off and you slam it into the ground. johnny's eyes widen as he immediately drops to his knees, trying desperately to grasp at the ring as it rolls and spirals out of grasp. he curses to himself, then at you.

• "look at yourself," you grit your teeth. "you care more about a rock than your fiancée. we're done, johnny. you can go tell the media that, too, since that's all you care about."

• johnny blinks once, then twice. he swallows thickly.

• "i'm sorry," is all he can mutter out. god, how he wishes he could say more, but time felt nonexistent when looking at your face. you, however, didn't quite understand his meaning and brushed yourself off.

• "no, it's fine, really," you try to shove past him, anything to break this eye contact that feels as if it's pulling you apart piece by piece. as you think you're out of the weeds, his hand finds its place on your arm once more.

• "please look at me," he pleads, voice barely above a mumble. "i-i haven't seen you in..."

• "—twenty six years," you blink up at him, straining yourself so hard to not break down. "forget it."

• "i'm sorry," he emphasizes the phrase again. "i... i was an asshole, an arrogant, self-centered—"

• "johnny." you cut him off, face stern but voice soft. "it was so many years ago."

• "i know, i know, but — fuck — you've... you've been on my mind this entire time. you never left. god, when you left it felt like my entire... everything fell apart."

• you want to interject, stop him from this spiral, but you can tell he had it bottled up for so long, you'd be cruel to deny him of it now. that, and you had an unfortunate tendency to hear people out and forgive those who don't need your forgiveness.

• "when you walked out i realized just how good i could've had it. you were the only sane person in my world, you tried so hard to keep me in track but i was so afraid of being nothing that i... chose my priorities wrong. you know, i've kept your contact information, even... just in case."

• "i changed my number years ago, johnny. to stop the media from bugging me for a comment."

• "just another thing i fucked up," he runs a hand through his hair. "sorry, i don't mean to be all self destructive." he pauses, and eyes you down. you yourself aged well too, fine lines and trickles of grey hair peeking through your uniform hat. johnny chuckles dryly as his eyes focus on the little details. "you look just as beautiful as the day you left me."

• "don't do this," you quietly plead, eyes now feeling wet and face feeling hot. "not now. not after all this time."

• "i..." he swallows again, now averting his eye contact. the pause is long, and you almost considered walking away before he speaks up again. "i got married, by the way, though i'm sure you saw... in the news."

• "i haven't." johnny shoots a dubious look at you, then realizes you probably avoided his name like the plague in news articles.

• "my wife runs the army. my daughter is commander."

• "daughter?" now it was your turn to frown.

• "cass... cassandra?" johnny explains, though you sense a hint of shame in his tone. "cassie."

• "didn't strike you for a family man." the irony stings when it slips past your lips.

• "i didn't either," he wipes his face. "but i realized... far too late... that what i wanted more than a legacy for myself was a legacy for my family. i wanted my efforts to mean something. i wanted to better the world with more than just shitty movies."

• just as your turn rose to frown, now you couldn't help but let out a chuckle yourself. "your movies weren't shitty," you reply, smiling weakly. "i liked them."

• "no you didn't," his grin is teasing, and you notice just how deep his smile lines were. "no need to lie."

• "honest to god," you hold a hand up, swearing. "they were a nice escape from reality."

• his lips turn into a fine line. maybe your choice of wording was more painful than intended. his fists clench and unclench and you watch his mouth fight to get more words out.

• "i wish..." the always confident actor couldn't bring himself to look at you. "i wish i had grown up sooner, you know." johnny could be digging a dangerous hole, but he didn't care in the moment. he felt young again, nostalgic. "we could have had a life like this together, like you want... wanted."

• "you have that now," you get defensive, trying to put a barrier between his words and your heart. "a wife, a kid, a good job. you got what you wanted."

• "but it's not with you."

• whether it was dread or excitement, your heart flutters. was it really true that after all this time, he still wanted you, missed you like you missed his mature self? your thoughts of what could've been claw their way into your mind, and you feel hazy. your eyes wander around his form again, taking in his impressive physique, kind eyes, mature outfit... stopping at the ring finger. your breath feels sucked from your lungs when you pull yourself back to reality.

• "maybe in another life," you propose, a weak shrug tugging at your shoulders. "but i hope you know i don't... i don't regret what we had. our story, though, ended twenty six years ago, johnny. you're in a new chapter, enjoy it, okay?"

• the rejection at his desperation feels like a gunshot to the chest, like he could just die then and there. yeah, he had roots here, but if you had just asked him to run away with you, lord knows he'd consider it. but you wouldn't ask him to do such a thing, when he's finally got his shit figured out.

• another coworker enters the long hallway, entranced in their task that tears both of your attentions away from the heavy conversation. you know even still that his reputation is important, on screen and now off, too. so, you abandon the conversation as it stands, not giving johnny a chance to agree to your request and spin on your heel, returning to your own assignment and leaving him to his own. your head is down as you hug the papers, wishing to forget that you work with your ex-soulmate. it's an impossible task, really, when you catch his lingering cologne and scent on your body from his hold. that scent didn't change, either.

• johnny feels frozen in place, afraid to move and lose the moment where it stands. he watches you until you turn the corner, and listens for your footsteps until there isn't a trace of them anymore. his heart feels... heavy.

[oosa3x]

secret moments (rd3)

ii. begin again

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆.˚✮˚.⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

pairing: rúben dias x f! celebrity! reader word count: 10, 910 warnings: feelings of anxiety/doubt author’s note: again i don’t want to butcher the portuguese language so the conversations between rúben and his agent that are italicized are meant to be them speaking in portuguese

Almost a week later, Rúben was in the middle of his post-training routine when his phone buzzed on the bench beside him. He glanced at the screen, seeing Pedro, his agent's name flash across. He wiped the sweat from his brow, grabbed the phone, and answered.

“Hey, Pedro. What’s up?”

There was a pause on the other end before Pedro’s voice came through, slightly confused but amused, "Rúben, care to explain why I’ve been sent an NDA from Y/N L/N’s lawyers?”

Rúben froze for a second, the words catching him off guard, "Wait… what?”

“Yeah,” Pedro continued, clearly enjoying this a little too much, "Just got an email from her team, with a non-disclosure agreement. They want me to review it. Something about you having dinner with her?”

Rúben groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, "Ah, right… that.”

Pedro laughed, "So you’re casually having dinner with Y/N L/N now? And you didn’t think to mention it?”

Rúben shifted, feeling the heat rise to his face, "We met at 6lack’s concert the other night, we hit it off, and I asked her to dinner. That’s all.”

Pedro hummed thoughtfully, "And now I’m handling NDAs for you from the biggest popstar on the planet. I have to say, Rúben, this is a new one.”

Rúben sighed, "Look, I wasn’t expecting all the paperwork. But, you know… her level of fame. I guess it’s just how things are done.”

Pedro chuckled, "You’ve dealt with high-profile situations before, but this… this is different.”

“Yeah, I know,” Rúben admitted, "But it’s not a big deal. Can you just handle the NDA for me?”

“Of course,” Pedro replied, still sounding amused, "I’ll look it over. Just remember to stay focused—you’ve got training, and I’d hate for this dinner to become a huge distraction.”

Rúben smiled, appreciating Pedro’s concern, "Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.”

Pedro laughed again, "Alright, Rúben. I’ll take care of it. And good luck with your…dinner.”

Rúben shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. You had followed through with your promise, and the reality of it all was sinking in. Now, all he had to do was prepare for dinner. But no pressure, right?

Pedro’s voice crackled through the phone again, his tone a mix of amusement and seriousness, "Oh, and by the way… It says here that if you breach the contract, you could be fined for anywhere between $1 million to $10 million, depending on the severity.”

Rúben blinked, sitting up a little straighter, "How much?” he asked, his heart skipping a beat. He knew an NDA was standard for someone as famous as you, but the stakes suddenly felt much higher than he’d anticipated.

Pedro chuckled softly, clearly entertained by Rúben’s reaction, "Yeah, that got your attention, huh? They’re not playing around. This is serious business, Rúben. I’ve seen tough NDAs, but this one takes it up a notch. She’s got great lawyers.”

Rúben groaned, rubbing his forehead, "Ten million dollars for breaching it? What am I supposed to do? Not breathe during dinner?”

Pedro laughed, "Look, it’s more about protecting her from any unwanted attention or leaks. I mean, she’s a huge star, and I’m guessing she’s been burned before. As long as you don’t spill any secrets to the media or post about it on Instagram, I think you’ll be fine.”

Rúben sighed, "Yeah, I get it. Just wasn’t expecting this much... legal pressure.”

“Well, that’s the price of dating a megastar, huh?” Pedro teased, "Just don’t breach the contract, and you’ll avoid that $10 million bill.”

Rúben chuckled, though the weight of the NDA lingered in the back of his mind, "I’ll be careful. No talking to the press, no social media, no problem.”

Pedro’s voice softened slightly, "Good. It’ll be fine, Rúben. Just keep things low-key, enjoy the night, and don’t worry too much.”

“Thanks, Pedro,” Rúben replied, grateful for the advice.

“Anytime. I’ll finalize the NDA and get it back to her team. Now go focus on your game—and your dinner,” Pedro added with a smirk in his voice before ending the call.

Rúben sighed, leaning back on the bench, staring at his phone. Dinner with you was going to be a little more complicated than he’d imagined, but he couldn’t help the flicker of excitement building inside him.

You had also told your manager and publicist about the date, obviously, expecting the usual reactions—some cautious excitement, maybe a few questions about who this guy was. Instead, they immediately shifted into full-on research mode, typing away and cross-referencing like detectives uncovering a hidden scandal. It was the same routine they went through for anyone who got close to you. Being her meant that even something as simple as a dinner invitation required a background check.

Of course, you’d done your own research, too. After all, you couldn’t afford not to. You’d agreed to the date with Rúben, intrigued by his easy charm and genuine interest in music, not just your fame. A quick search confirmed what you knew: he played for Manchester City and Portugal. He wasn’t exactly an unknown, but all you could find were mostly details about his professional career. You had scrolled past images of him on the field, mid-game action shots where he looked like a force of nature. There were a few interviews, some charity work, and a couple of awards for his defensive skills, but nothing screamed “media circus” like the ones you were used to dating. 

Now, the sound of the makeup brush softly sweeping across your skin was almost meditative, a steady rhythm in the otherwise whirlwind of activity that surrounded you. You sat in the makeup chair, script in hand, though your mind kept wandering away from the lines. The trailer was buzzing with the quiet hustle of your team: Amelia sitting across from you, iPad in hand, rattling off a list of tasks that seemed to grow by the second, and your makeup and hair stylists.

"…and we need final approval on the cut for the music video. The director sent over two options for the final edit again, so you'll have to choose one today," Amelia said, scrolling through her screen without missing a beat. “Plus, the feature you did for Elijah’s track. His label's asking for approval on the single artwork. I said we’d get back to them, but the deadline’s coming up.”

You nodded, barely registering the words. The past week had been a blur of early mornings on set and late nights running through lines. This new film—your first big role in over a year—had consumed most of your time since arriving in Manchester, but somehow, it wasn’t the movie that kept pulling at the edges of your focus.

Amelia continued, “And, of course, there’s the perfume. They sent over the final concept for the bottle. We have to let them know by tomorrow if you want to make any other changes, because they’re going to start production soon.”

You glanced up from the script, meeting Amelia’s eyes in the mirror. “Yeah, I liked ‘Option A’ for the music video, I loved the artwork, and I love the bottle, no changes needed.” you replied, more distracted than usual.

Amelia nodded, tapping her screen and continuing her list. “Right, and Rúben’s agent sent back the signed NDA we sent him yesterday.”

That caught your attention.

You looked up from your notes, surprised. “Wait, he sent it back already?”

Amelia nodded, not even glancing up from her phone. “Yep. Signed and everything. Got it in my inbox this morning.”

A mix of relief and curiosity washed over you. Rúben hadn’t even hesitated. “Huh. That was quick.”

“He’s efficient, I’ll give him that,” Amelia said with a small smile, still not looking at you. “I think he’s serious about seeing you.”

You took a breath, trying to process it all. It was a good sign, right? He understood the importance of protecting your space, your career, your life. “Yeah, that’s... good,” you said softly, the reality of the situation setting in.

You let the script rest in your lap, your fingers curling around the pages as you tried not to look too obvious about the way your pulse quickened. It had been a week since the 6lack concert, a week since Rúben had slipped into your life with that casual confidence, asking you out like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it had been, in that moment—natural. You hadn’t thought twice before saying yes. 

Now, though, with the space of a few days and the reality of your world crashing back in, things felt more complicated. The layers of your life—the NDAs, the contracts, the eyes always watching—didn’t just disappear because you wanted to have dinner with someone who wasn’t in your industry.

Amelia glanced at you then, her expression softening. “He even suggested a place in the city for dinner. Low-key.” She paused, gauging your reaction, “He seems really genuine.”

You bit your lip, thinking it over. Rúben had been nothing but considerate since the moment he texted you the day after the concert—he’d gotten your number from Ricardo—checking in to see how your schedule was going and making sure you didn’t feel pressured. It was refreshing, really. He wasn’t pushing for some grand, over-the-top date, just something simple. But you knew that even a “simple” date in your world required layers of preparation.

“Do I have time?” you asked, glancing at Amelia’s iPad where your schedule was probably packed to the brim.

She tapped at the screen, scrolling through your appointments. “If you don’t mind having dinner after an eleven-hour shoot day, we can squeeze it in tomorrow night.”

“Eleven hours?” You sighed, leaning back in the makeup chair as the artist moved to your eyes. 

“Welcome to the glamorous world of filmmaking,” Amelia said dryly. “But seriously, if you want to go, we’ll make it work. I’ll get security to check out the location Rúben suggested. I can handle it.”

You thought about it for a moment, considering. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him—you did. But even the thought of it came with the weight of everything else: the media attention, the inevitable gossip, the protocols. And Rúben… he didn’t really know what that meant. Not fully.

You were famous-famous. The kind where one blurry photo could send Twitter into a meltdown, where rumors could spread with a single comment taken out of context. Rúben was a footballer, sure, and not an unknown one, but his world wasn’t consumed by the same level of public obsession. He lived a life with a little more freedom, a little more room to breathe. You weren’t sure he understood how little of that you had left.

But the thought of him waiting for your reply made something flutter in your chest—a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while.

“I want to see him,” you said finally, keeping your voice calm, like it wasn’t a big deal. “But let’s keep it discreet. No paparazzi, no fanfare. I’m talking top-secret here.”

Amelia smiled, nodding, her fingers already moving to make it happen. “Consider it done. I’ll update you once everything’s confirmed.”

The makeup artist finished, stepping back to give you a final look in the mirror. Your face was flawless, but even the layers of foundation couldn’t hide the anticipation building under your skin. Tomorrow night, after the cameras stopped rolling and the lights of the set faded, you’d step into a different kind of spotlight—one where it wasn’t your career on display, but something far more personal.

You thought about what it meant to potentially do this to Rúben, your mind wandering as Amelia's voice faded into the background. You’d stalked him on the internet more than once over the past week, trying to piece together a better picture of him. Amid the match highlights, interviews, and charity appearances, one thing was made clear to you: how private he was. He talked about it with such ease, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to guard your personal life like a treasure. There was a certain calmness in the way he spoke about it, like he knew exactly where to draw the line between the field and his life outside it.

Could you really do this to him? Could you tilt his entire world on its axis?

You’d been down this road before. You knew what would happen the moment a photo of the two of you surfaced. The whirlwind of speculation, the invasive questions, the opinions—oh, the opinions. Everyone would have one. From football fans to the music industry, people who knew nothing about either of you would have something to say. They always did. You could already imagine the headlines: Man City defender Rúben Dias and global pop sensation Y/N L/N spark dating rumors! And once the narrative started, it wouldn’t stop. Not for a long time. 

It didn’t matter that he was already in the public eye—this was different. He wasn’t the kind of athlete whose personal life fed the media machine. He wasn’t out there for show; he kept his circle tight, his private life nearly impenetrable. And here you were, potentially about to obliterate that. 

A wave of guilt swept through you. You knew what the attention could do to someone, especially someone who wasn’t used to it on this scale. It could be suffocating, relentless. And it wouldn’t just be the paparazzi. Social media, gossip sites, random strangers dissecting his every move, his every interaction with you. The noise was constant, and it was exhausting. You’d learned to live with it, but could Rúben?

You shifted in your chair, your grip tightening on the script in your lap. He hadn’t asked for this. He’d asked you out, sure, but he couldn’t possibly know the avalanche that came with it. You wanted to be selfish—you wanted to see where this could go. But at what cost? Was it fair to bring him into the chaos that surrounded your life? 

You could already picture the look on his face when the cameras started following him to training, reporters asking him about you instead of his performance on the pitch. You didn’t know if he’d signed up for all that, and that uncertainty gnawed at you.

You felt Amelia’s eyes on you, sensing your hesitation even as she ran through the call sheet, “You okay?” she asked gently, breaking through your thoughts.

You forced a small smile, nodding. “Yeah… just thinking.”

But the guilt lingered. Could you really drag him into your world, knowing what would happen? Would he be able to handle it? Or worse—would it change him, warp the private, grounded person you’d come to admire in such a short time?

You didn’t know. And that uncertainty hung over you, making the decision feel heavier than it should have.

He had this calmness about him that completely unarmed you. That was, without a doubt, the scariest part. Your walls were usually impenetrable—years of living in the spotlight had taught you to keep your guard up at all times. But with Rúben, it was different. You found yourself talking to him like it was nothing, like you were letting him inch closer to parts of yourself you typically kept hidden from the world.

And you couldn’t figure out why. 

Maybe it was because Ricardo, someone you trusted implicitly, had vouched for him. He’d spoken so highly of Rúben when you’d first mentioned him after the concert, describing him as solid, down-to-earth, the kind of person who didn’t need to be the center of attention. That had reassured you. But that wasn’t all of it.

No, it was Rúben himself. There was something about him, something that felt like a breath of fresh air in the middle of the chaos that usually consumed your life. His easy smile, the way he had listened to you more than he spoke, the way he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you—not the version of you plastered on billboards or dissected by the media, but the real you. 

That calm confidence of his was disarming. It made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let your guard down for a second. And that scared you because every time you did that in the past, it hadn’t ended well. You knew better. You were supposed to be better. You told yourself you’d be better. 

But then Rúben would text you, or you’d think back to that night after the concert, when he’d talked about music with a kind of passion that matched your own, and all the caution you’d built up over the years seemed to fade, just a little. 

He didn’t deserve the dark cloud that always seemed to loom over you. 

So, again, you found yourself wondering: should you put an end to this before it ever really starts?

It would be the easiest option. You could send a polite message, thank him for the lovely conversation, and tell him that your schedules just didn’t align. You had plenty of reasons to fall back on—your filming commitments, the relentless pace of your career, the complexities of your world that someone like Rúben shouldn’t have to navigate.

It would be so simple. Clean. You could move on without guilt, without dragging him into the whirlwind that was your life. He would return to his own, continue as the quiet, private man he was, and you’d both walk away without the inevitable chaos that would follow if you continued down this path and the general public would be none the wiser. 

And yet, even as you toyed with the idea, something inside you resisted. Because a part of you wanted to see where this could go.

That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Rúben was a breath of fresh air, something different, something real. He didn’t seem fazed by your fame, didn’t want anything from you other than your time. There was no pretense, no hidden agenda. He wasn’t trying to leverage your celebrity, and that alone felt rare and valuable in a way you hadn’t expected.

This was the difficult part about dating you. The weight of it was almost unbearable at times—the way one simple dinner could spark a wildfire of speculation. You couldn’t possibly be spotted on a first date without headlines appearing the next morning, suggesting marriage plans, analyzing every glance, every smile. The assumptions were always dramatic and relentless, as if you were navigating life with a script already written by the world.

At least with the men you’d dated in the past, they’d understood the rules. They knew the game because they played it, too. Fellow singers, actors, people in the same industry—guys who didn’t flinch when a camera flashed or when their names trended on Twitter for a day. They knew what they were getting into because they lived it, too. Even when things went south, at least they knew the stakes going in. The pressure, the speculation—it wasn’t foreign to them.

But Rúben? He lived in the spotlight, sure, but it wasn’t the same. Football had its own level of fame, but he hadn’t been subjected to your level of scrutiny. He’d been able to maintain that sense of privacy, to keep his personal life tucked neatly out of the public’s reach. How could you expect him to be okay with what was waiting for him on the other side of one dinner with you?

Even now, just the idea of going the extra mile for privacy—just for one date—felt overwhelming. And it wasn’t even about what the press might think; it was about the reality of your life. You’d have to go through so many hoops to keep it under wraps. NDAs, a carefully vetted location, your security team on high alert, making sure no one could snap a photo or overhear a conversation. It was exhausting to think about. And all of this… just to see if there was something there, if this thing with Rúben could even get off the ground.

The stakes felt so high for something that was supposed to be simple. You weren’t even sure if the chemistry would translate beyond the concert, beyond the texts and the flirty exchanges. What if you went through all this trouble, all this effort, and then… nothing? You’d have pulled him into your world for a fleeting moment, made him part of a spectacle that would haunt him for weeks, maybe months, for no reason.

You sighed, your fingers tightening around your phone. That was the hardest part, wasn’t it? The what ifs. You couldn’t move in your personal life without thinking ten steps ahead, without calculating every possible outcome. It was how you’d learned to survive in this world, but it also kept you from taking risks, from just living.

The reality was, even if you could keep this date under wraps, it wouldn’t last. You couldn’t keep a relationship hidden forever. The media would find out eventually, and then it would be everywhere. And what would that do to him? To both of you?

You glanced down at your phone as it buzzed, Rúben, of course. It would be so easy to back out, to save him from the inevitable. But the truth was, you didn’t want to. Not yet.

Maybe that was selfish. Maybe it was reckless. But for once, you wanted to see where something could go without overthinking every consequence before it even began. Maybe you owed yourself that much.

My god.

You couldn’t believe you were doing all these mental gymnastics over a guy you spent, what, an hour with backstage? One hour of conversation, some texts, and suddenly you were spiraling, weighing the consequences of a first date like it was a life-altering decision. It was pathetic, really. You should’ve been able to shrug this off, to compartmentalize it the way you did everything else in your life. But here you were, running circles in your head, trying to predict the future and safeguard both your world and his.

And for what? A guy who—while undeniably attractive, grounded, and charming—was still a relative stranger to you. It wasn’t like you were head over heels. This wasn’t some whirlwind romance, not yet. It was just… potential. The spark of something new. 

But the spark of something new had the power to completely change everything. You’d been here before. You knew that once the public got wind of a new relationship, there was no turning back. Your life would become theirs to dissect, and his—someone who wasn’t used to that level of attention—could be pulled into the chaos, whether he liked it or not.

You exhaled, leaning back in the chair, suddenly feeling the weight of it all press against your chest. Why was it so hard to just… go out with someone? Other people seemed to manage it just fine. But with you, it was always this dance of “what if” and “how bad could this get?”

You glanced at your phone again, the unread message from Rúben staring back at you. It was probably something simple. He wasn’t asking you to commit to anything monumental, wasn’t trying to force you into anything. It was just a date, a moment to see if there was something real between the two of you. But you already knew there was no such thing as just a date when you were involved.

You thumbed the screen, finally opening his message.

I found a place. Really private, no one will bother us. I spoke with the owner. Let me know if you’re still up for it.

Your stomach twisted the second you read it. Rúben had been nothing but patient—gentle, even—and here you were, doubting yourself. Part of you knew you should’ve been excited, but instead, all you could feel was that familiar pull of hesitation. Do you really deserve this? the voice in the back of your head whispered through your mind, uninvited. You tried to shake it off, but the guilt had a way of lingering.

Still, you typed your response, fingers moving almost mechanically.

Let’s do it. Tomorrow night works.

 You hit send before you could second-guess it. But as soon as the message went through, that tightness in your chest returned. You were agreeing, but the wall was already halfway up, built from everything you couldn’t bring yourself to admit.

The next day was grueling—a relentless 11 hours on set, with every scene and every line feeling like an uphill battle. By the time you wrapped, exhaustion clung to you, both physically and mentally. The thought of the date lingered at the back of your mind, but you pushed it aside, trying to focus on getting through the day. When it was finally over, there was no time to unwind. You went straight from set to getting ready, slipping into the role of someone who wasn’t completely spent.

Standing in front of the mirror, you stared at your reflection, feeling disconnected from the person staring back. Your makeup was applied with precision, but it felt like armor more than anything else. As you brushed through your hair, a part of you wondered if it even mattered. Would he notice how tired you were? Could he sense the hesitation you were trying so hard to bury? You added a spritz of your favorite perfume, hoping the familiar scent would bring some comfort, but even that felt a little distant tonight.

You pulled on the dress you had picked out, one you thought would make you feel confident. But now, it felt like just another layer between you and what you were really feeling. Despite your best efforts, the weight of the day—and everything you were holding back—clung to you like the exhaustion in your bones. You exhaled, taking one last look as you slipped into your heels. 

The sound of your footsteps echoed softly in the hallway as you made your way downstairs. At the bottom of the staircase, Amelia was waiting, her phone in one hand, an encouraging smile on her face. She knew it had been a long day—longer than most—and her presence was a quiet reminder that you didn’t have to go through the motions alone.

“You look amazing,” Amelia said, her eyes scanning your dress before landing on your face. “Rúben’s lucky.”

You gave a tight smile, still feeling the weight of everything from the day pressing on your chest. “Thanks,” you murmured, fiddling with your necklace, trying to shake the nerves. But before you could say anything else, Amelia stepped closer, lowering her voice gently.

“You know… you can still cancel, or reschedule,” she offered, a knowing look in her eyes. “He’d understand.”

“That would be so rude to do so close to the reservation,” you replied quickly, though the thought of canceling lingered for just a second longer than you wanted it to. You sighed, straightening up, determined to go through with it.

Amelia didn’t push further, but her gaze was soft as she squeezed your hand. “Okay. Well, we’ve got everything arranged. Mark has spoken to the restaurant, and NDAs have been signed by the staff. You’ll go in through the service entrance, and the private dining room is ready. No one’s going to bother you.”

You rubbed your temple, feeling the weight of it all. “God, when did this become my life? This is so ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath.

Amelia chuckled lightly. “You want to walk in through the front? Be my guest.”

You laughed, despite yourself, shaking your head. “Yeah, maybe not.”

As if on cue, Mark appeared, his expression serious but reassuring. “We’ll drop you at the back. Eric and Jason will escort you in, but it’ll be quiet. Everything’s been triple-checked.”

You nodded, feeling a small wave of relief wash over you. They had thought of everything, as they always did, but there was still that part of you that wondered if you could get through the night without letting your walls slip.

“Don’t be nervous, he’s just a guy,” Amelia added, her voice light, trying to bring some levity back into the moment. She smiled one last time before stepping aside, allowing Eric and Jason to escort you out the door and into the car.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet. The low hum of the city streets outside passed in a blur, but inside, your thoughts were loud. You fiddled with the edge of your dress, glancing occasionally at Eric, who sat up front, focused on the road ahead. You wondered what Rúben was thinking right now—if he was as calm and collected as he always seemed to be, or if he had any idea how much of yourself you were trying to keep hidden.

Eventually, the car rolled to a stop. Eric and Jason were quiet as they opened the door for you, guiding you toward the discreet back entrance of the restaurant. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself as you stepped out, the cool night air doing little to settle the nervous energy swirling inside you.

The service entrance was exactly as Mark had described—hidden away, out of sight. You glanced around, half-expecting someone to recognize you, but no one even blinked as you slipped past the kitchen staff and through a narrow hallway. A host appeared almost immediately, offering a polite smile. He gave you a slight nod, his fingers adjusting his collar almost unconsciously as he spoke.

“This way, Miss L/N,” he said, his voice steady but just a touch quieter than you expected. You barely noticed, preoccupied with your own nerves, as he led you through the hallway. His steps were quick and professional, though there was something a little rigid in the way he moved. Maybe it was the fact that Eric and Jason were standing nearby. 

When you reached the private dining room, he paused in front of the door, his hand resting on the handle for a moment longer than necessary before he turned it and opened the door for you. “Mr. Dias, your guest has arrived. Your waiter will be here soon. Enjoy your evening,” he said, his smile lingering a bit too long before he quickly stepped aside to let you pass.

You offered a quick smile before he slipped away, leaving you standing there for just a moment. You stepped into the private dining room, the warm glow of the low lighting greeted you, casting long shadows across the intimate space. It should have been calming, but instead, your nerves buzzed under your skin, making every step feel heavier.

And there he was—Rúben. Standing at the head of the table, locking eyes with you the moment you entered, his eyes softening with that familiar warmth. Even after your insecurities sunk their teeth in you, his presence was striking, but tonight, there was something more. He seemed relaxed, yet focused, as if he’d been waiting for you all day. His smile was warm, a subtle reassurance that everything was okay. He smiled a little more deeply when you approached, the quiet confidence in his posture reminding you why you’d said yes in the first place.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady, that smile on his lips as he took you in. 

“Hi,” you replied, offering a small smile in return, though the tightness in your chest remained. He pulled out your chair, the gesture thoughtful as always, but even as you sat down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were about to step into something you weren’t quite ready for.

The reality of what this meant had settled in over the past few days, like glitter that had fallen to the ground after the initial rush. It was the same glitter that used to make you feel alive, back when you thought fame was everything. But now, it was just dust, settling into all the cracks of your life.

You suddenly felt the need to keep him at arm’s length tonight. Maybe it was your instinct to protect yourself—or worse, protect him. The walls that usually kept people at bay were fully up tonight, and despite how charming Rúben was, how easy it had been to talk to him the first time you met, something was stopping you from letting go and enjoying the moment.

You sat down across from him, nodding in acknowledgment as the waiter poured water into your glass. Your fingers played with the edge of your napkin, your body stiff, your mind a million miles away. 

The baggage that came with dating you was impossible for you to ignore. Your fame was always there, an elephant in every room you stepped into. The weight of it pressed against you now, reminding you that this wasn’t just a date—it was a potential headline, a potential disaster. 

All the men you’d dated before had told you as much. They might’ve tried to play it cool, but eventually, the truth always came out: it was exhausting to be with you. The constant attention, the scrutiny, the lack of privacy—it was too much for anyone to handle for long. The reporters who called their jobs, their families, digging for details, crossing every line just to get a story. It wore people down, and no one deserved that. Especially not Rúben.

Looking at him from across the table, his features warmed by the glow of the low lighting in the room, it affirmed what you already knew. He was… normal. At least, as normal as someone in the public eye could be. You imagined he could still step out and grab groceries if he wanted to. Maybe fans asked for a photo, but that was probably the extent of it. He wasn’t hunted by photographers the way you were, he didn’t have rumors about his love life splashed across tabloids every week. His life, while public, still had space for normalcy. Space for peace.

You couldn’t remember the last time you did something as mundane as buying groceries. That wasn’t your life anymore. Every moment was calculated, planned, protected. You couldn’t just “date” someone, not without it being analyzed, picked apart, and turned into a circus. You’d seen it happen before—one photo of a first date, and suddenly it was the start of a romance the whole world was invested in. And when it inevitably fizzled out, the headlines would make it seem like you were heartbroken, a mess of emotions over something that had barely started.

“Hey,” Rúben’s voice broke through your thoughts. His eyes were on you, concern softening his features. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, realizing you hadn’t said much since you sat down. You were here, but your mind wasn’t, and clearly, he’d noticed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, offering a weak smile. “I’m just… distracted, I guess.”

His brow furrowed, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “Is it something I did? If you don’t want to be here, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this.”

There was no hint of judgment in his voice, just understanding. And that only made the guilt twist deeper inside you. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve the weight of your internal battle. 

“No, it’s not you,” you assured him quickly, offering a small smile in an attempt to brush it off. “It’s nothing, really.”

Rúben raised an eyebrow, giving you a look that said he wasn’t buying it. He didn’t have to say anything right away—his silence was enough to gently coax you into continuing.

You sighed, glancing away briefly before meeting his eyes again. “Okay, maybe it’s not nothing,” you admitted, a nervous laugh escaping you. “It’s just… complicated, you know?”

“What’s complicated?” he asked, his voice soft but direct, his gaze steady on yours. He wasn’t pushing, but you could tell he wasn’t going to let you hide behind the word either.

You hesitated, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of your water glass as you carefully considered your words. “I’ve just… been here before,” you said slowly, trying not to give too much away too soon. “When people see me with someone, they make assumptions. And then it snowballs into something it’s not. I don’t want that for you.”

Rúben was quiet for a moment, his gaze steady, and then he leaned in just slightly, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “People are going to assume what? That I’m on a date with a beautiful, talented woman that I’d really like to get to know?” His smile grew warmer, more sincere. “Because that’s exactly what this is.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of his statement, how direct yet lighthearted it was. A quiet laugh escaped you, the tension in your chest loosening just a little. He wasn’t dodging the weight of your words, but he was reminding you what was real, right now.

Rúben’s eyes softened as he watched you. “Look, I understand what you’re saying. I know what could come from this, but we don’t have to worry about what everyone else thinks. Right now, it’s just us. I want to be here with you.”

His words hit you in a way that made it hard to resist smiling. You weren’t used to someone meeting your fears with such calmness, with no rush to make promises or minimize how you felt.

You smiled, a real one this time. “You make it sound so simple.”

He shrugged lightly, still smiling. “Because it is simple. Let’s just… have dinner, and see where it goes.”

You exhaled, some of the weight lifting from your shoulders as you nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

His calmness once again disarmed you. Maybe he was right. Maybe it didn’t have to be as complicated as you were making it. Rúben’s smile widened, his eyes soft with reassurance, and for the first time that night, you felt a little bit of the weight on your shoulders begin to lift. You hadn’t realized just how tightly you were holding yourself together, but now, in the quiet of this private room, with Rúben’s steady presence across from you, it felt a little easier to breathe.. 

The waiter returned to take your order, and you both exchanged polite words with him. The moment he left, the silence returned, but this time, it wasn’t heavy. You felt Rúben’s gaze on you, not in a scrutinizing way, but more like he was waiting for you to relax, to meet him halfway.

You took a sip of your water, letting the coolness calm the lingering nerves. “How do you handle it? The public attention, I mean.”

Rúben leaned back slightly, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Honestly, it’s different for me,” he said after a moment. “Football comes with attention, sure, but people care more about what happens on the pitch. If I’m playing well, everything’s good. If I’m not, well… they let me know,” he added with a small smile. “But my personal life? It’s not under the same kind of microscope. It’s not like it is for you.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. For athletes, the focus was often on their performance, their game. But for you, every part of your life—on stage and off—was up for public consumption. “That must be nice,” you said softly, almost wistful. “To have some part of your life that’s still just yours.”

Rúben’s eyes softened as he watched you. “It is,” he admitted. “But I get that it’s not the same for you. I’m not naive about it.” He leaned forward slightly, his forearms resting on the table. “I know the pressure on you is different. But it doesn’t have to be something we figure out all at once. There’s no rush.”

His calm, steady voice had a grounding effect on you, like he wasn’t trying to fix things or demand more than you were ready to give. He wasn’t expecting you to map out your entire future right here and now. He was just present, in the moment, willing to take things one step at a time.

You smiled a little, shaking your head. “You really don’t know what you’re getting into, do you?”

Rúben chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Maybe not,” he said with a shrug, “but I’d like to find out.”

The waiter returned with your food, and for the next few minutes, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—football, music, your time in Manchester. It was easy. It was light. And the more you spoke, the more you realized that this was exactly what you needed—a break from the heaviness of your life, a moment to just be a person sharing a meal with someone interesting. It reminded you of why you’d said yes to this date in the first place. 

You caught yourself relaxing into the evening, the initial nerves and hesitation melting away little by little. You laughed when Rúben told a story about a chaotic team practice, and he asked thoughtful questions about the movie you were filming, genuinely interested in your answers.

By the time dessert arrived, you almost forgot why you’d been so hesitant in the first place. It was nice, being around someone who wasn’t trying to impress you, who wasn’t intimidated by your fame or overwhelmed by the attention that came with it. Rúben was just himself, calm and steady, and it was a welcome contrast to the chaos that usually surrounded your life.

At some point, you glanced around the room, the reality of your private setting sinking in. The service entrance, the NDAs, the security—it all seemed so distant now, like you’d left that part of yourself outside the door when you’d walked into the room. You weren’t just Y/N, the global superstar in this moment. You were a woman on a first date, with a man who seemed genuinely interested in knowing the real you.

“Thank you.” you said quietly, catching his gaze across the table.

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For being… sweet,” you said with a soft laugh, though you meant it. “I’m not used to that.”

Rúben smiled, his eyes warm. “You don’t ever have to thank me for that.”

You smiled back, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. Maybe it was okay to let yourself enjoy this, to just be in the moment without worrying about what came next. Maybe, just for tonight, you could forget about the fame, the pressure, the inevitable headlines. Maybe, for once, you could just be you, and not her.

Rúben leaned back in his chair, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ve never seen someone have an effect on people like you do.”

You furrowed your brows, curious but trying to play it cool. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters,” he began, leaning in slightly, “I think I have permanent hearing loss from when you came on stage the other night. The crowd lost it.” He chuckled softly. “And the host who led you in here looked like he was about to pass out. The waiter? His hands were trembling as he took your order, barely even noticed me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. You weren’t exactly unaware of the effect you had on people, but it always caught you off guard when someone described it so plainly. To you, it was just part of your life—people’s reactions had long since become background noise. You’d gotten so used to it that you sometimes forgot how overwhelming it could be for others.

“That can’t be true,” you said, smirking as you tried to downplay it. “They were probably just having an off night.”

Rúben laughed again, shaking his head. “You seriously didn’t see it, did you? You walk into a room, and it changes the energy entirely. People react to you—they can’t help it.”

You bit your lip, feeling a little bashful despite your best efforts to stay composed. This was the part that always felt strange—the acknowledgment of your impact, how larger-than-life you could seem to others. It wasn’t something you did intentionally, but it was a reality you had learned to live with.

“And what about you?” you asked suddenly, the question slipping out before you could overthink it. You tilted your head slightly, genuinely curious now. “Do I have an effect on you?”

Rúben didn’t hesitate, his expression softening. “I’ve been nervous all week waiting for this.”

His honesty catches you off guard, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady but genuine. “But not for the reasons they’re nervous.”

You blinked, feeling the air between you shift. “Yeah? What’s the reason then?”

He held your gaze, his eyes unwavering, and for a second you felt the world around you slow down, like this moment existed outside of everything else. “It’s not your fame making me nervous,” he said, his voice lower, more intimate. “It’s how absolutely gorgeous you are.”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks, a blush creeping up your neck before you could stop it. His words, so direct, so unaffected by the world you usually navigated, hit you in a way that felt... real. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had made you blush like this.

A soft laugh escaped you, more out of nervousness than anything else. “I don’t usually get nervous on dates,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands before looking back up at him, “but… you’ve managed to make me a little nervous too.”

Rúben’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with warmth and amusement. “Good,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “That makes two of us.”

For the first time in a long time, you let yourself sit in that feeling—being nervous, being unsure, but also feeling something real and genuine. The walls you’d been so careful to keep up tonight were starting to crumble, piece by piece, and it didn’t feel like it was such a bad thing.

Rúben looked at you thoughtfully, his gaze steady as the conversation quieted. “Why’d you say yes? To this date, I mean. You could have said no.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t something you’d really considered, not in those exact terms. Why had you said yes? You’d had plenty of opportunities to turn people down in the past, often with good reason. But with Rúben, something had felt different that night.

You laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Have you seen yourself?” The joke slipped out easily, and Rúben chuckled, but there was a sincerity behind his question that lingered in the air, making you feel like you owed him a real answer.

You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts, and then your voice softened. “No, I… I said yes because it was easy to talk to you. You didn’t seem intimidated by her. ” You gestured vaguely, indicating the version of you the world knew—the celebrity, the public figure, the icon. “It seemed like you were more interested in getting to know me.”

Rúben’s smile was soft as he nodded, clearly understanding what you meant. “That’s because I am.”

There it was—that calmness again, the way he didn’t flinch or overreact. He was steady, present, and focused on you, not the image the world projected of you. You appreciated that more than you could put into words, and it was why you felt so disarmed around him.

“People… people don’t always see me anymore,” you continued quietly, feeling more vulnerable than you expected. “They see what they want to see. The fame, the persona, the things they read in magazines. It’s exhausting sometimes, you know?”

He nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can imagine. But that’s why I wanted to ask you out in the first place. I wanted to get to know you. Not the version of you everyone else thinks they know.”

There was something about the way he said it, with such honesty, that made you feel safe—like maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry the weight of your fame with you all the time. 

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you, the kind that came from being truly seen. “I’m glad I said yes,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Even if I was nervous.”

Rúben’s smile grew, and he leaned forward slightly. “Me too,” he said, his voice low and steady, and for the first time tonight, you felt like the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on you. It was just the two of you, sharing a moment, getting to know each other in a way that felt real.

“For the record, though,” he added with a playful glint in his eyes, “I still am intimidated by you. Look at you.” He leaned back slightly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Have you looked at yourself?”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading across your cheeks betrayed you. "Oh, come on."

“No, seriously,” Rúben continued, his expression shifting into something more sincere, but still playful. “I mean, you walk into a room, and it changes. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t throw me a bit.” He shrugged, a little self-deprecating. “But the part that matters—the part that got me to ask you out—is that it’s you behind all of that. And that’s what I’m here for. ”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he wasn’t done. “Your job, what you do—it’s huge. I get that. People are obsessed with your work, with what you represent. But at the end of the day, it’s still just that—a job. And everyone has a job.” He paused, meeting your eyes with a soft smile. “It just so happens that yours comes with a lot more attention. That doesn’t change who you are.”

His words hit you like a punch, a force that knocked the wind out of you.

God, what the fuck. He’s perfect.

You blinked, trying to recover from the feeling, but the way he looked at you, so matter-of-fact, so sure, made it impossible. You weren’t used to this—someone seeing past the glamor, the spotlight, the fame, and just… you. The real you. No pretense, no agenda.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched for something to say, anything that wouldn’t make you sound completely floored by his simplicity and depth. But all you could manage was a soft, “That’s… wow.”

Rúben’s brow furrowed slightly, a small grin forming at the corner of his lips. “What?”

You shook your head, exhaling softly as you let your guard drop just a little more. “You just… get it. I don’t know how, but you do.”

He shrugged, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’m just being honest. I don’t think it’s all that complicated. You’re more than the job, just like I am.”

That did it. Your chest tightened, a strange mix of relief and disbelief swirling inside you. How did someone like him—calm, grounded, and yet so sincere—make you feel so seen? You bit your lip, fighting back a smile, wondering if he even realized the effect he was having on you.

You sighed, shaking your head again with a mix of amusement and gratitude. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Rúben grinned, leaning forward slightly. “I’m just a guy on a date, trying not to say the wrong thing.”

“Well, you’re doing a pretty good job so far,” you teased, feeling more relaxed than you had at the start of the evening. 

The tension you’d been carrying with you since the moment you walked in was slowly unraveling, bit by bit, and as you looked at him, you realized you were glad you’d taken the chance. Maybe this wasn’t the simple, carefree date most people got to experience, but for tonight, it was close enough. And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like your fame was the only thing defining you.

You found yourself leaning in slightly, the conversation between you flowing with an ease you hadn’t expected. He wasn’t looking at you like everyone else did, as if you were some untouchable figure. Rúben saw past the glitz, past the brand. He was here for the woman sitting in front of him, and that was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. It was refreshing, almost grounding, in a way you hadn’t known you needed.

Just as you felt the lightness of the moment settle in, the waiter discreetly placed the check on the table, offering a polite “Take your time,” before stepping back. As soon as the black leather folder hit the table, your hand instinctively reached for it, but before you could even touch it, Rúben’s hand was already there, swiftly grabbing it and pulling it out of your reach.

You raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-annoyed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He looked at you, his expression a mix of playful disbelief. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to split the bill,” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Rúben laughed, shaking his head as if you’d just told him the most ridiculous joke. “You’re funny. Absolutely not. That’s not at all happening. I’m paying.”

You leaned forward, playfully trying to push back. “Come on, let me at least pretend I had a chance at paying. I need to keep my dignity intact.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that made your heart flip, and shook his head firmly. “No. Absolutely not. This is my treat. I asked you out, remember?”

You sat back, crossing your arms with a half-pout on your lips. “You’re making this difficult, you know.”

He chuckled again, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You can get the next one,” he teased, his tone light and casual.

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of a “next one,” but you tried to play it cool. “Next one, huh?”

Rúben raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Unless you’re already planning on bailing on me?”

You shook your head, the playful tension between you lightening the mood even more. “Not bailing,” you said softly, the truth settling in as you looked at him. “I guess I’ll just have to let you pay this time.”

“Good,” he said, sliding his fingers across the edge of the checkbook. “Because that’s how it was going to go either way.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. It was moments like these, little glimpses of ease and lightheartedness, that reminded you why you’d said yes to this date in the first place. Even with all your initial anxiety, Rúben had managed to make the night feel lighter than you expected, and for once, you didn’t feel weighed down by the complications of your life.

He took his card out and paid without even glancing at the amount.

You took a small sip of your water, watching as the waiter thanked both you and Rúben and disappeared once more, leaving the two of you alone in the soft lighting. The atmosphere shifted subtly, quieter now, almost expectant. Rúben stood up first, reaching for your coat, and you followed suit, standing from the table.

When he held out your coat, you turned, feeling the light brush of his hands as he helped you slip it over your shoulders. The touch was brief but deliberate, his fingers grazing your arms in a way that sent a shiver through you. He took his time adjusting the collar of your coat, his movements slow, like he was savoring the moment.

You could feel the shift between you, an unspoken tension building, something that had been simmering beneath the surface. His hands lingered a second longer than necessary, and you felt your pulse quicken as his gaze met yours, his eyes darker than they’d been before. There was no denying the spark now, that quiet, magnetic pull that seemed to tighten the air between you.

He leaned in slightly, his face just inches from yours, the warmth of his presence drawing you in like a current. His eyes flicked down to your lips for just a moment—long enough for you to notice, but not long enough for him to make a move. You felt a tug in your stomach—a longing, an anticipation—and you knew where this was headed. You wanted to kiss him, of course you did. He was sweet, attentive, calm, and his scent—a mix of something clean and warm—wrapped around you, making you want to melt into him. 

And God, did he look good. He looked so good, that much you could admit to yourself when you walked in, despite the cloud of doubt that had loomed over you. 

But you weren’t ready to give in just yet.

You leaned back ever so slightly, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t kiss on first dates, you know,” you whispered, your tone playful but firm, just enough to keep him on his toes.

Rúben paused, a small smirk played on his lips. “No way I can convince you?” he asked, his voice low, playful, but with a hint of challenge in it.

His hand rested gently on your waist, the warmth of his touch steady but restrained. It wasn’t possessive, but more like a promise—one that made your heart skip a beat. The way he looked at you, with that quiet intensity, made it harder to stick to your own rules, but you weren’t going to let him win this easily.

With a soft laugh, you reached up, letting your hand brush against his arm, the touch light but deliberate. “You’ll have to try a little harder than that,” you said softly, your lips curving into a smile.

His brow arched, amusement flashing in his eyes as he leaned just a fraction closer, his voice dropping lower. “I can be patient.”

The desire was there, simmering between you, but neither of you were rushing to give in. It was like a game, a slow dance where neither of you wanted to be the first to step forward.

You felt the spark, the undeniable tension, but you liked the way he wasn’t trying to force it. He was letting it build, savoring it just as much as you were.

“I guess we’ll see,” you teased, pulling back just enough to leave him wanting more, the playful glint in your eyes matching his.

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You’re trouble,” he murmured, though the smile on his face told you he wasn’t complaining.

You grinned, feeling the lightness between you grow, the chase still very much alive. As you both stepped out of the private dining room, you noticed Eric stationed just outside, always quietly observing but never intrusive. He gave you a small nod before turning to Jason, who stood a few feet away. “Bring the car around,” Eric said quietly, his voice low and efficient.

Rúben placed his hand gently on the small of your back as you began to walk through the same service hallway you had entered from. The soft murmur of kitchen sounds echoed around you as you passed through the bustling space, the warm scents of food lingering in the air. You felt a strange sense of calm wash over you, as if the weight of the outside world hadn’t quite caught up to you yet.

As you reached the end of the hallway, you slowed, noticing Rúben pause. He caught the attention of the restaurant owner, who had been discreetly overseeing the kitchen’s final tasks. With a quiet, purposeful gesture, Rúben handed him a small envelope—an unexpected but thoughtful gesture. The owner looked momentarily surprised, but Rúben’s words were warm, genuine.

“Thank you for everything,” he said, his voice steady but filled with sincerity. “The food, the dessert—it was perfect. But more than that, I appreciate how quiet and private the evening was. Your attention to detail, and everyone’s discretion… it meant a lot to us.”

The owner’s face softened into a grateful smile as he accepted the envelope. “It was our pleasure, Mr. Dias, Miss L/N. We’re happy you enjoyed your evening.”

You watched the exchange, feeling a quiet admiration for Rúben. He didn’t have to do any of this—personally tipping the staff, speaking so kindly to the owner—but he did it anyway, without hesitation, with the same quiet thoughtfulness he’d shown all night.

With that settled, Rúben guided you toward the back exit. As you approached, one of the restaurant employees stepped forward to hold the door open for both of you. You offered him a small smile, murmuring a quick “Thank you,” as you passed, and Rúben did the same, his voice calm and polite.

Stepping outside, the cool night air greeted you, a welcome contrast to the warmth you’d felt in the restaurant. The faint sounds of the city buzzed in the distance, but here, in the quiet alley behind the restaurant, it felt like you were in your own world. You took a deep breath, feeling the tension from earlier in the night dissolve a little more with each passing moment.

Just ahead, your SUV was already waiting, its black frame gleaming softly under the dim alley lights. Eric stood nearby, his posture relaxed but alert. As you approached, you fully expected Eric to open the door as he always did, but before he could move, Rúben was already a step ahead.

With smooth, instinctive grace, Rúben reached for the door handle, pulling it open for you. It was such a simple gesture, but it caught you off guard. You paused, looking at him for a second longer than you intended. You weren’t used to this. So few of the guys you’d dated before had ever bothered with the smallest acts of respect—holding doors, offering real consideration—and yet here was Rúben, doing it effortlessly. He wasn’t making a show of it, and it wasn’t an act. It was just who he was, and it took you a moment to process that.

You stood between him and the open door, the moment suddenly feeling more intimate than it had a right to be. As you adjusted your coat, a cool breeze brushed past, loosening a strand of hair from where it had been tucked behind your ear. Before you could reach for it, Rúben’s hand was already there, gently brushing the stray hair back into place. His touch was soft, tender, and the simplicity of it made your breath catch.

“I appreciate you coming tonight, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice warm and genuine. “I had a lot of fun. I’d like to keep getting to know you, as long as you’ll let me.”

His words were so sincere, cutting through any lingering tension with their honesty. You felt your heart flutter slightly at how real this all felt. Rúben wasn’t pushing for anything more than you were ready to give, but he made it clear that he wanted more, when you were ready for it.

You smiled up at him, your voice soft. “I’d like that, too.”

Before you could stop yourself, you rose on your tiptoes—despite the heels you were wearing—and gently placed a soft kiss on his cheek. His skin was warm against your lips, and you felt him lean into the touch, just slightly, like he was savoring the moment.

When you pulled back, his smile was gentle, his eyes still holding yours as he helped you up into the SUV with that same quiet grace he’d shown all night. You noticed how his hand covered the grab handle above the door, making sure you didn’t bump your head as you slid into the seat. It was another small detail, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

Before closing the door, he leaned down slightly, his voice low but gentle. “Please, let me know when you get home safely.”

You smiled, your heart warming at his thoughtfulness. “I will. Good night, Rúben.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

He smiled, giving you one last look that made your stomach flip before turning to Eric. There was a polite nod exchanged between them, a silent acknowledgment of respect from both sides. Eric returned the gesture before stepping aside.

As the door closed and the SUV pulled away from the restaurant, you sank into the plush leather seats, sighing softly, dreamily. A small smile tugged at your lips as the city lights blurred outside the window. Rúben had been… well, everything you hadn’t expected but had secretly hoped for. 

Eric slid into the front seat, glancing at you in the rearview mirror with a knowing look. “Good date?” he asked, though you could hear the teasing in his tone.

You couldn’t hide your smile as you nodded, sinking further into the seat. “Yeah… it was.”

As the car rolled through the quiet streets of the city, your thoughts drifted back to Rúben, to the way his hand had felt on your waist, the way his gaze had lingered on yours. You weren’t sure where things would go from here, but for the first time in a long time, you felt excited about the possibilities. And for tonight, that was more than enough.

author's note: sorry for making y'all wait for so long! let me know what y'all think :)

[chimggukchim]

MiniMoniMusicMusings

Jimin's round of MiniMoniMusic dropped earlier and, as per the usual with any BTS content, it revealed a lot about our boys. So, here are a few of my takeaways:

Jimin is absolutely GORGEOUS in his natural blond!...Okay, let me just get that out of the way lol.

2. Jimin has grown so much over the past couple of years, and I am HERE for it. A few years ago, Park Jimin would have been beating himself up for any miniscule slip-up he thought he had. Our boy would have been admittedly so hard on himself, lacking confidence in his abilities every which way. I saw the growth out of that, and I am so happy that he acknowledged it too. Jimin is a megastar with mammoth talent in every cell of his beautiful body, and hopefully he's starting to see it.

3. Namjoon loves and trusts his Jiminie above all he's met in his career. (Somewhere deep on a military base we can hear a Jeon Jungkook screaming it's the FRIENDSHIP and that we ALL love and trust Jiminie)

4. Jimin had been taking vocal lessons to completely change his style of singing (to the point he's questioning if he can sing BTS' old songs like he used to) after revealing it would have been detrimental if he continued as he was. Some of those high notes that he used to hit did seem to strain his vocal cords, so I'm happy he's fine-tuning his talent in a way that he preserves it longer. And it seems to be working cuz that note at the end of the bridge of WHO was so freaking high, long and STABLE! I am here so here for how he interprets BTS songs when enlistment is over.

5. Jimin and Namjoon might have recorded something together? Cuz what in the world does he mean be this:

6. Jimin did not make THAT mistake again lol. Mr. Jeon Jungkook was the first to listen to the songs on MUSE.

7. Speaking of the Jeon, Jimin again kindly reminded everyone that we get only a fleeting glimpse of their lives and only know 0.0001% of it. So for those who were screaming that Jimin and Jungkook were like oil and water during the hiatus, ie. never mixing together, you're free to take a healthy serving of humble pie and a tall glass of 'suck it' with which to wash it down.

Also, it is very heartwarming that the members, before looking elsewhere, will always trust each other for guidance, support and assistance where their careers are concerned. And the healthy amount of respect that Jimin has for Jungkook as a vocalist is still very much evident.

Anyway, it should be very clear by now that Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin are a package deal.

Needless to say, MiniMoniMusic had so much to take away, from both Jimin and Joon. These two are some of the deep thinkers in BTS, and I always love to listen to them with each other.

We'll see if there's a third installment coming up if that 'yours and mine' nugget turns out to be a collab as some suspect.

Anyhue, I'll leave you with some wise words (is there any other kind?) of Kim Namjoon:

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Possession: a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley x Jimmy Uso fanfic.

Chapter 14: Ride by Somo..

Rhea stormed back to Roman’s tour bus, her boots thudding heavily against the concrete. The adrenaline from her backstage outburst hadn’t worn off, and her mood was still smoldering. She swung open the door to the tour bus and found Jimmy and Roman sitting inside, both leaning back as if they’d been waiting for her.

Jimmy leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “So? What’d they say?”

Rhea dropped into one of the seats, letting out a frustrated sigh. “They told me to cool it with the vulgar language.” She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “Like that’s the problem.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “Well, it kinda is. You can’t just go around threatening half the roster and cussing on live TV.”

Rhea shot him a glare. “Don’t start, Joe. Tiffany’s the one who took it too far. Did you hear what she said to me? That’s not scripted heat—that’s personal.”

Jimmy crossed his arms. “Yeah, we heard. The crowd was eating it up, though. It’s messy as hell, but it’s working.”

“That’s not the point!” Rhea snapped, sitting up straighter. “I’m not just some pawn they can use to air out my personal life for ratings. They’ve already turned my life into a soap opera, and now I’ve got to work with her.”

Roman’s expression softened slightly. “I get it. But this is the business, Rhea. You know that better than anyone. Sometimes you’ve got to take the punches and roll with it.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, easy for you to say. No one’s dragging your name through the mud or making a joke out of your relationships.”

Jimmy shrugged. “True, but you’re the one out there proving you can handle it. You’re stealing the show. Hell, tonight’s segment is already trending.”

Rhea’s jaw clenched. “I don’t care about trends. I care about respect. And Tiffany? She doesn’t respect me. She thinks she can just say whatever she wants and get away with it.”

Roman leaned back, his arms crossed. “Then make her respect you. But do it smart, Rhea. You’ve got all the momentum right now. Don’t let her get under your skin and make you lose focus.”

Rhea leaned her head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling. She hated to admit it, but Roman had a point. “Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll try to keep it together. But if she steps out of line again—”

Jimmy smirked. “We’ll be ready.”

Roman stood up and clapped her on the shoulder. “Good. Now take a minute and cool off. We’ve got the rest of the night to deal with.”

Rhea nodded, closing her eyes as they let her be. She might have agreed to play by the rules, but deep down, she knew the next time she and Tiffany crossed paths, all bets would be off.

Little did she know.. all bets had already been off…

—

SNME: San Antonio, TX January 25, 2025

Rhea tightened the laces on her boots, her movements methodical, her mind razor-sharp. Jimmy’s steady hands adjusted the collar of her leather jacket, ensuring everything was in place. Roman stood nearby, his arms folded, his eyes scanning them both with quiet intensity.

The past month had been a whirlwind, both on-screen and off. The rivalry between Rhea and Tiffany had become the must-see storyline, eclipsing everything else in WWE. The explosive segments, backstage brawls, and unpredictable encounters had cemented Rhea as a bona fide megastar. Her relentless pursuit of Tiffany, Ms. Money in the Bank, across RAW and SmackDown kept fans buzzing, and her star had risen to unprecedented heights, even rivaling Roman himself.

All the while, the feud between the Elevated Bloodline—Roman, Jimmy, and Rhea—and the remnants of the old Bloodline had grown more personal and vicious. Lines had been drawn, sides taken. Tiffany had thrown her lot in with Solo, Jacob, Tonga and Tama, becoming their smug, untouchable prize. It was clear they’d do anything to protect her.

Now, at Saturday Night’s Main Event, the tension had reached its peak. The long-awaited 3-on-5 handicap match was about to unfold.

Rhea stood and rolled her shoulders, her jacket shifting with the motion. Jimmy took a step back, giving her a once-over. “You good?”

She glanced at him, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Always.”

Roman’s voice cut through the tension, calm and commanding. “Tonight isn’t just another match. It’s a statement. We’re not just here to win; we’re here to end this.”

Rhea met his gaze, the fire in her eyes matching his intensity. “They started this. We finish it.”

The door opened, and a stagehand peeked in. “Five minutes.”

Roman nodded, then turned to Jimmy and Rhea. “Let’s go. Time to remind everyone why we run this.”

The three of them made their way toward the entrance curtain, their steps in sync, their presence magnetic. The energy of the crowd was palpable, their anticipation like a living thing.

Rhea didn’t need to look back; she could feel the weight of everything that had led to this moment—the betrayal, the anger, the fights, and the losses.

Jey hadn’t contacted her, and she hadn’t reached out either. The silence between them was deafening, but it didn’t matter anymore. There was no going back, no mending what had been shattered.

This was about personal grievances. It was also about dominance, about proving who truly controlled the narrative in WWE.

The familiar beat of Roman’s music hit, and the crowd erupted, their deafening roar echoing through the arena.

Tonight wasn’t just about settling scores.

It was about making history.

—

Michael Cole: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is it—the highly anticipated 3-on-5 handicap match between the Elevated Bloodline and the Old Bloodline! The stakes couldn’t be higher!”

Pat McAfee: “This is gonna be a straight-up war, Cole. You’ve got the biggest egos, the most dangerous forces, and a whole lot of bad blood!”

Michael Cole: “Speaking of the Elevated Bloodline, here comes the Tribal Chief’s music!”

Roman Reigns’ iconic theme hits, and the crowd roars. The camera pans to the stage as Jimmy Uso and Rhea Ripley step out first. Rhea, dressed in her black leather jacket and her Mixed Tag Team Championship belt around her waist, looks intense as ever. Jimmy walks beside her, his expression focused, his belt on his waist as well.

Pat McAfee: “Cole, look at them—walking like they own the entire damn arena!”

Michael Cole: “This is the most unified we’ve ever seen Rhea, Jimmy, and Roman. They’ve had enough of the Old Bloodline, and tonight they’re here to put an end to it!”

Jimmy and Rhea pause at the top of the ramp, turning back toward the entrance. The crowd’s volume spikes as Roman steps out, his stoic face radiating dominance. The trio stands together, soaking in the energy before beginning their slow, deliberate walk to the ring.

Pat McAfee: “This is a sight to behold, Cole. You’ve got Jimmy Uso, the technical high flyer, Rhea Ripley, the Eradicator, and Roman Reigns, the Original Tribal Chief himself. What a power trio!”

In the ring, Tiffany Stratton paces back and forth, grinning with malicious excitement. Solo Sikoa, Jacob Fatu, Tama Tonga, and Tonga Loa stand behind the ropes, their eyes locked on the Elevated Bloodline.

Michael Cole: “Tiffany Stratton is chomping at the bit to finally get her hands on Rhea Ripley, but let’s not forget the Old Bloodline standing behind her. This is as stacked as it gets!”

The Elevated Bloodline reaches ringside. Jimmy climbs onto the apron and holds the ropes open for Rhea. She steps into the ring, her eyes never leaving Tiffany. Roman finally enters, taking his time as the crowd showers them with a mix of cheers and boos. The energy is electric.

Lilian Garcia stands in the center, microphone in hand, ready to announce the competitors. But just as she begins, the crowd buzzes with confusion as a familiar voice cuts through the arena.

Paul Heyman: “Ladies and gentlemen!”

Michael Cole: “Wait a minute! That’s Paul Heyman! Roman Reigns’ Wiseman!”

Pat McAfee: “What the hell is Paul doing out here? This just got even more interesting!”

The camera pans to the stage where Paul Heyman walks out, holding a microphone and wearing his signature smug grin.

Paul Heyman: “Lilian, sweetheart, I’m sorry to interrupt your wonderful introductions, but this match—3-on-5? Now that doesn’t seem very fair, does it?”

The crowd erupts in cheers, sensing something big is about to happen.

Paul Heyman: “Rhea, darling, you thought you didn’t have any more friends? You thought you were alone in this fight? Oh no, my dear… you still have allies. Gentlemen, would you do the honors?”

The arena goes dark for a moment before the familiar beat of Damian Priest’s music hits. The crowd explodes as Damian Priest, Dominik Mysterio, and the Women’s World Champion Liv Morgan step onto the stage.

Michael Cole: “What?! Are you kidding me?! Damian Priest, Dominik Mysterio, and Liv Morgan are here!”

Pat McAfee: “Cole, this is HUGE! Is this a reunion? An alliance? What’s going on?!”

Damian Priest strides down the ramp, shaking Paul Heyman’s hand as Dominik and Liv follow close behind. The Judgment Day trio enters the ring, tension thick in the air as they approach the Elevated Bloodline.

Damian steps forward, locking eyes with Roman Reigns. For a moment, the arena slightly becomes silent as the two leaders stare each other down. Then, Damian extends his hand. Roman looks at it, then slowly shakes it. The crowd goes wild.

Michael Cole: “An alliance has been formed! The Judgment Day and the Elevated Bloodline—this changes EVERYTHING!”

Dominik shakes hands with Jimmy, and Liv nods at Rhea with a smirk before sliding out of the ring. Damian and Dominik then turn to Rhea. For a split second, there’s hesitation, but then they step forward and hug her tightly.

Pat McAfee: “Cole, this is unreal! Rhea Ripley has reunited with the Judgment Day, and now they’re standing united with the Elevated Bloodline!”

The camera captures the image of Rhea, Jimmy, Roman, Damian, and Dominik standing tall in the ring, their alliance signaling a seismic shift in WWE. The Old Bloodline watches from across the ring, their confidence visibly shaken.

Michael Cole: “What was supposed to be a 3-on-5 mismatch has just become a battle of titans! The Elevated Bloodline and the Judgment Day are united, and this war just got a whole lot more interesting!”

Pat McAfee: “Cole, I’ve got goosebumps! Saturday Night’s Main Event just became a night no one will EVER forget!”

The tension in the air is palpable as the Saturday Night’s Main Event reaches its boiling point. The audience is on the edge of their seats, knowing that the conclusion of this match will shift the landscape of WWE forever. The match is a chaotic frenzy, with the Elevated Bloodline and the Old Bloodline locked in a brutal battle, and everything is on the line.

Michael Cole: “Ladies and gentlemen, we are nearing the end of what has been an all-out war! Bodies have been broken, and all competitors are giving everything they have left. Who will come out on top in this epic contest?”

Pat McAfee: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this, Cole. Every member of these factions is exhausted—this is madness!”

The match is at its breaking point. All competitors are either knocked out or desperately fighting with each other, trying to gain any shred of advantage. The action is relentless as each faction attempts to assert their dominance.

First, Dominik is taken out by Tama, leaving the Judgment Day stunned. Then, Tama falls after a brutal exchange with Roman. Jacob Fatu soon follows, knocked out cold by a superkick from Jimmy. The Elevated Bloodline’s numbers continue to dwindle as Roman succumbs to a devastating spear from Solo, leaving him out of the equation.

Next, Damian Priest is knocked out by a chairshot from Tonga Loa. Finally, Solo and Tonga are taken out by a combination of double super kicks from Rhea and Jimmy, but not with Jimmy getting pulled from Jacob and getting thrown into floor. Jacob brutally strikes Jimmy, leaving just Rhea and Tiffany standing in the ring.

Michael Cole: “This is it! It’s down to Tiffany and Rhea—these two women are about to decide the fate of their respective factions!”

Pat McAfee: “They’ve been through hell tonight, Cole! And they are still standing!”

The crowd roars as Rhea Ripley and Tiffany Stratton exchange fierce blows, each one desperate for the win. The intensity is unbearable as the two women battle it out in the center of the ring. Suddenly, in the heat of the scuffle, the referee is inadvertently knocked out, collapsing to the mat.

Michael Cole: “The referee is down! This could be disastrous for both women!”

Rhea unaware that ref has been knocked out, gets her second wind. She hits Tiffany with the Riptide, delivering the crushing blow that could end the match. The crowd erupts in excitement, anticipating a clean pinfall victory.

But as Rhea moves to pin Tiffany, the crowd gasps—another referee runs down the ramp, ready to take over. The new official slides into the ring, and the count begins. One… two… and then, suddenly, the referee halts the count at the two-count.

Michael Cole: “What in the world? The count stopped! Why did the referee stop the count?”

The crowd falls silent, the tension thick in the air. The unknown referee pulls down their mask, revealing a familiar face—Jey. The shock waves ripple through the arena as Rhea’s eyes widen in disbelief.

Pat McAfee: “Jey Uso?! What is he doing here?!”

Rhea, frozen in shock, stares at Jey, trying to process what just happened. Jey, without a single emotion on his face, signals the end of the match, declaring it a disqualification. Rhea’s heart sinks as she watches him get out of the ring and begin walking up the ramp, leaving her standing in the ring in complete shock.

Michael Cole: “Jey Uso just called for a disqualification! What is going on here? This match has been completely thrown into chaos!”

Pat McAfee: “This is madness, Cole! Jey’s actions have left us all questioning everything!”

Jimmy rushes to Rhea’s side, concern written all over his face. He looks on at his brother as he walks up the ramp, Jey sports this unusual stoic expression. Rhea stands in the center of the ring, visibly shaken, tears streaming down her face. She can’t fathom what just happened.

As Rhea is left stunned, Dominik, Damian, Roman, and Liv all make their way to the ring, having been recovered from each devastatingly blow, except for Liv of course, joining Rhea in a show of unity. The Judgment Day and Elevated Bloodline stand together, still unsure of what to make of Jey’s involvement.

Michael Cole: “Jey Uso’s actions have left everyone here in a state of confusion. What does this mean for Rhea, for Jimmy, for Roman, for the factions?”

Pat McAfee: “There are more questions than answers, Cole. But what we do know is that this match is over, and nothing was resolved.”

Michael Cole: “And now, Tiffany Stratton, still reeling from the Riptide, is being pulled away by the Old Bloodline. And look at this—there’s a tense stare down between the Old Bloodline, the Elevated Bloodline, and the Judgment Day! These factions are on the verge of an all-out war!”

Pat McAfee: “The tensions couldn’t be higher, Cole! The future of WWE could be shaped by what happens here tonight, and I don’t think anyone knows how this is going to play out!”

With the Old Bloodline escorting Tiffany Stratton up the ramp, they lock eyes with the Elevated Bloodline and Judgment Day. The stare down is cold and intense, signaling that the animosity between these factions is far from over.

Michael Cole: “The match may be over, but this war is far from finished. I have no idea where things go from here, Pat.”

As the camera lingers on Rhea’s broken, emotional face, it’s clear that the battle is not over. The unresolved tension and the uncertainty surrounding Jey’s actions are only the beginning of a much larger storm that’s about to unfold.

Pat McAfee: “You said it, Cole. We are just getting started, and I don’t know what’s going to happen next!”

The scene fades to black, the uncertainty hanging in the air, leaving the audience eagerly awaiting what comes next in this explosive rivalry.

—

Rhea stormed into the locker room, her emotions barely in check. Jimmy and Roman followed close behind, their own frustration evident. But the sight of Hunter sitting calmly in the middle of the room ignited something in Rhea.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the silence, her breathing was uneven, her fists clenched and she looked like she about died of anger.

Hunter leaned back slightly, his expression calm but measured. “Rhea, I know you’re upset—”

“Upset?” she interrupted, her voice sharp and filled with venom. “He’s supposed to be on leave for another two months, Hunter! Two months! He had a shoulder injury!”

Hunter sighed, running a hand over his face. “Which he got cleared for by the doctors.”

“So, you just allowed him to come back?” Rhea snapped, her anger intensifying. “Without telling any of us? Without warning me?!”

“Rhea,” Hunter said firmly, “I’ve always said this was your storyline.”

She laughed bitterly, a hollow, mocking sound. “Really? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it! What it feels like is that you let my ex-boyfriend, who publicly humiliated me, come back just to fuck up everything we’ve built!”

Hunter opened his mouth to respond, but Rhea pressed on, her voice rising. “I’ve been fucking up Tiffany left and right for a whole month—building this feud, getting people invested—and tonight? Tonight was supposed to be the payoff! You said we were going to win!”

“I know what I said,” Hunter replied, his voice growing firmer, but Rhea wasn’t backing down.

“No, you don’t!” she shot back, her voice cracking slightly from the sheer intensity of her emotions. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t have killed my momentum, or Jimmy’s, or Roman’s! You just handed everything over to Jey like it was some big fucking plot twist. Well, congrats, Hunter—you’ve turned my life into a goddamn soap opera!”

“You have to trust me on this,” Hunter said, his tone resolute, but his eyes betrayed a hint of guilt.

Roman, who had been silent up to this point, finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “My character arc will not participate in this whole real-life drama, Hunter. I’m telling you that right now. You told me it was only going to be temporary and that’s it.”

Hunter looked at Roman, his expression hardening. “All of you are involved now. There’s no turning back.”

Rhea’s breathing quickened, her emotions spiraling as tears welled up in her eyes. She turned away, trying to compose herself, but the words spilled out anyway. “This is my life, Hunter,” she said, her voice trembling. “Jey cheated on me with Tiffany our whole relationship, and she—she gets pregnant and then has an abortion just so she can keep wrestling. And now you want me to continue to work with her? To work with him? Hunter, this is my fucking life.”

Hunter’s face softened for a moment, but his response was cold and detached. “Rhea… this really is just business.”

That was the breaking point. Rhea grabbed her bag without another word and stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind her.

Jimmy immediately moved to follow, his protective instincts kicking in. Roman stopped him briefly. “Make sure she gets to the tour bus,” he said quietly, his tone firm.

Jimmy nodded, grabbing his own bag before quickly heading after Rhea.

Once they were alone, Roman turned back to Hunter, his imposing presence filling the room. He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he fixed Hunter with an icy stare. “Let’s talk,” Roman said, his voice low and dangerous. “Businessman to businessman.”

Hunter swallowed hard, sitting up straighter. He knew Roman wasn’t the type to mince words. Whatever was coming next would be a reckoning.

—

Rhea’s pace was frantic as she stormed toward the tour bus, her wrestling boots hitting the pavement with sharp, angry thuds. Jimmy followed closely behind, struggling to keep up with her long strides and the emotional whirlwind trailing in her wake.

She reached the bus, yanked the door open, and climbed in without hesitation, leaving the door open behind her. Jimmy arrived a few seconds later, slightly out of breath. He climbed in but froze in his tracks at the sight before him.

Rhea was on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest, her shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs. She didn’t even look up as he stepped inside.

“Rhea…” Jimmy said softly, his voice laced with concern. He closed the door gently behind him, shutting out the rest of the world.

Rhea’s voice was raw and broken when she finally spoke. “Why did he have to cheat on me?” she asked, her words tumbling out between sobs. “Why couldn’t he have just left me alone?”

Jimmy knelt down beside her, his heart aching at the sight of her pain. He reached out to hold her, but she pushed him away, her hand shoving at his chest with surprising force.

“I’m disgusted,” she spat, tears streaming down her face. “Disgusted that I even kissed you in the first place.”

Jimmy flinched at her words but kept his expression neutral, knowing she was lashing out in her pain. “You don’t mean that,” he said quietly.

Rhea looked at him, her eyes red and brimming with tears. “You all knew Jey cheated on me,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of heartbreak and anger.

Jimmy stayed silent, his jaw tightening. He didn’t know how to respond, and the truth hung heavy between them.

Rhea broke down again, her cries filling the bus as she buried her face in her hands. Jimmy hesitated for a moment before trying again to reach out to her. This time, she didn’t push him away.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her against his chest as she cried. She didn’t resist, her sobs muffled against him. Jimmy rested his chin on the top of her head, his own eyes stinging with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “For everything.”

Rhea didn’t respond, but she clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt as her pain poured out in waves. Jimmy held her like that for what felt like an eternity, silently vowing to be there for her no matter how messy things got.

Jimmy carefully lifted Rhea off the floor, her weight light in his arms despite the emotional heaviness that seemed to cling to her. She didn't resist, letting herself be cradled as if the fight had drained completely out of her. He adjusted his grip and gently nudged the door to his room open with his foot, the faint creak barely audible over the low hum of the bus.

With Roman now accommodating three instead of two, the tour bus had been once again upgraded to something far more spacious, complete with three private rooms. Jimmy maneuvered through the slightly cramped hallway and stepped into his room, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed.

He kicked the door shut behind him, the click of the latch grounding him in the moment. Gently, he laid her down on the bed, her body sinking into the plush comforter. He pulled back, intending to give her some space, but her hands shot up, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him down into a kiss.

It wasn't soft or tentative-it was desperate, raw, and filled with emotions she couldn't put into words. Jimmy melted into the kiss, the taste of her salty tears blending with the heat of her lips.

His hands cupped her face instinctively, thumbs brushing away the damp trails on her cheeks as the kiss deepened. He broke the kiss to speak but she spoke..

“Just make love to me..”

"Okay," he murmured, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

She pulled him closer, her hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as if she was afraid he'd change his mind. Jimmy didn't. He leaned down, pressing another kiss to her lips, this one slower and more deliberate, an unspoken promise that he would give her whatever she needed tonight.

He let himself fall into the moment, the world outside fading away as they found solace in each other, the shared pain and complicated feelings making the connection between them even more intense.

—

Roman approached the door to his tour bus, his thoughts still tangled from his tense conversation with Hunter. The weight of Hunter’s insistence on keeping this storyline alive lingered in his mind, a storm of conflicting emotions brewing beneath his composed exterior. Just as he reached for the handle, he heard a voice call out from behind him.

“Hey, Roman! Wait up!”

Roman turned to see Damian approaching, his long strides carrying him quickly across the lot. Roman sighed, glancing back at the bus, but turned to meet Damian halfway. “What’s up, man?” he asked, his tone neutral but laced with an edge of impatience.

Inside the bus, the sound of Damian yelling Roman’s name echoed faintly, causing Rhea and Jimmy to freeze mid-moment. They had been caught up in the heat of the moment, their earlier vulnerability boiling over into something neither had fully anticipated. Now, they scrambled to compose themselves, panic settling in.

“Shit,” Rhea muttered under her breath as she frantically pulled her shirt back on. “You’ve got my lipstick on your face!”

Jimmy, who was hastily pulling on his sweats, wiped at his face with the back of his hand. “Do you have one of those makeup things? A wipe or something?”

“No,” Rhea said, grabbing her jacket and glancing at him with a mixture of frustration and panic. “Just go shower or something!”

Jimmy nodded, his movements hurried but not frantic as he slipped out of the room and headed for the bathroom. The sound of the shower starting up soon followed, masking any further noise.

Rhea adjusted her shirt, gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, and then slipped out of the room, heading for her own. She moved quietly but quickly, her heart racing as she prayed Roman wouldn’t step in and sense something was off.

Back outside, Roman was still talking to Damian, his broad frame leaning slightly against the side of the bus as Damian explained some issue or another. He nodded along, his eyes flicking back to the door, his gut telling him something was amiss even as he tried to focus on the conversation at hand.

“So, you see,” Damian continue his voice steady but with a hint of concern, “Hunter did say we were working together next week, and we were just wondering if we could stay with you guys this week?”

Roman raised an eyebrow, considering the request. The whole situation had been chaotic, but Damian wasn’t asking for much, and Roman knew how important this downtime was before the craziness of the upcoming week.

“That’s cool,” Roman said, nodding. “My new bus has two bunks in the front, plus the couches if you’re cool with that.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Damian said, his tone relieved.

Roman paused before continuing, his eyes scanning the lot as if he could sense something before speaking. “I’m sure Rhea would love to have you two back. I don’t know how she feels about Liv, though.”

Damian’s expression faltered for a moment. He had expected this. He wasn’t sure how Liv would go over, especially given Rhea’s recent turmoil.

“Would you want me to have Liv talk to Rhea before we get on board?” Damian offered cautiously. “We want to respect your tour bus.”

Roman gave a slight shrug. “That’s fine. Let me get her, and you can bring Liv to talk it over with Rhea.”

Damian nodded in understanding. Roman gave him a brief nod before heading toward the bus, his mind already working through the conversation that was about to happen.

Inside, Roman approached Rhea’s room, the soft knock on the door seeming louder in the quiet of the bus. She opened the door quickly, her face betraying a hint of nervousness.

“You okay?” Roman asked, his voice soft but direct.

Rhea, standing in the doorway, gave him a quick, almost anxious glance. “Yeah, why?” she asked, her words laced with tension.

Roman stepped in a little, wanting to keep things casual but making sure to check in on her. “Well, I said it’s okay for Dominik and Damian to board with us for the week,” he began, his eyes watching her carefully, “but I wanted to make sure you were okay with the other person.”

Rhea’s gaze shifted past him toward the windows, where she saw Liv standing with Damian and Dominik. The sight of her triggered a flurry of emotions inside Rhea, but she tried to stay composed. She thought for a moment, then responded, “Just tell her to come and give us some privacy.”

Roman gave a reassuring nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

With that, Roman stepped back outside to tell Damian and Liv what Rhea had decided. He knew things had been difficult for Rhea lately, and this week wasn’t going to be any easier, but he hoped this would give her the space she needed to sort through everything.

As he went outside, he caught Damian’s eye and gestured for Liv to follow him. Damian nodded, understanding the need for a brief talk. Liv gave a tight smile but followed without argument, knowing this was about Rhea’s comfort.

As Rhea and Liv sat together on the couch, the weight of the tension between them seemed to lessen with each passing second. Liv’s voice was soft but sincere as she began.

“I just want to say… I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch,” Liv confessed, glancing over at Rhea with a hint of regret.

Rhea smiled faintly, her eyes tired but appreciative. “Water under the bridge,” she replied, the words carrying a quiet finality to them.

Liv took a deep breath, clearly wanting to say more. “No… for real…” she started, her eyes lowering for a moment before looking back at Rhea. “I really admired you in The Judgment Day. I didn’t want to take your place.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow, surprised by the admission. “Liv, seriously… water under the bridge,” she assured her, though there was a trace of humor in her voice, as if she’d heard enough of this kind of apology for a lifetime.

Liv smiled softly, but a mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Is it true?”

Rhea looked at her in confusion. “Is what true?” she asked, her gaze shifting to Liv, sensing the question was something deeper.

Liv hesitated for a moment before leaning in further. “That Jey really did cheat on you the whole time?”

Rhea paused. The room seemed to grow quieter as the question lingered between them. She let out a breath, nodding slowly, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “Yes,” she said simply, her eyes avoiding Liv’s as she said the words, the weight of the truth still a heavy burden.

The two women sat there in silence, absorbing the weight of the revelation. It was as though the room had suddenly become still, each lost in their own thoughts.

Then, as if to break the tension, Rhea spoke up again, her voice quieter now. “I kissed Jimmy,” she admitted, not realizing that Jimmy was now out of the shower and listening in.

Liv’s eyes widened slightly, her eyebrows raised. “As a girlfriend, how was it?” she asked, her tone playful, despite the heaviness of the topic.

Rhea let out a small laugh, clearly caught off guard by the question. “To be honest, Liv… I think I made a mistake when I got with Jey.”

Liv gave her a teasing grin. “So does he have a big—” She made a popping sound with her lips, her attempt at humor cutting through the tension.

Rhea burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. It had been so long since she’d laughed like that, and she needed it more than she realized. “We haven’t done anything yet,” she said between laughs, shaking her head at the absurdity of the conversation.

Liv’s grin only grew wider. “Really?” she asked, as if incredulous.

Rhea shrugged, her eyes twinkling with a playful spark. “Well, he does know how to eat…” she said, her words trailing off with a sly smile.

Liv let out a dramatic gasp, her hands going to her chest. “Rhea, you sly dog!” she teased, and both of them erupted into giggles.

Jimmy couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t the conversation itself that made him grin, but the sound of Rhea laughing. The tension had lifted from her shoulders, even if just for a moment. She had always seemed so closed off, so guarded, especially around Jey. He knew Jey had a way of sheltering Rhea, keeping her from opening up to others. Maybe, just maybe, she needed more friends than she realized.

The laughter continued for a few more moments before both women calmed down, still sharing a knowing smile. Rhea wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, grateful for the lighthearted moment amidst all the chaos.

—

As the bus rumbled down the highway toward Phoenix, Arizona, the lights inside dimmed, and the soft hum of the engine mixed with the rhythmic sounds of sleeping bodies. Roman had already passed out blankets and pillows, ensuring everyone was comfortable for the journey ahead. One by one, the members of the group succumbed to sleep, the bus growing quieter with each passing moment.

But Rhea, restless and unable to sleep, glanced at the time. 2:13 AM blinked back at her, a reminder that the night was still young, and her mind wouldn’t quiet. She had freshly showered earlier, the lingering scent of shampoo still in her hair, and the cool air from the vent made her shiver slightly. She sighed, staring at the ceiling for a moment, before deciding she needed a moment away from the stillness.

She slipped out of the bed as quietly as possible, her feet padding softly against the floor. She glanced toward the living room and heard the faint snores of the Judgement Day—everyone lost in their own dreams. Rhea’s heart pounded just a little faster as she approached Jimmy’s room. She opened the door cautiously, trying not to disturb him. The dim light from the hallway illuminated his peaceful form, his breathing steady as he slept.

Rhea stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. The room smelled faintly of the shared cologne that lingered in the air, and she felt herself drawn to the warmth of the bed. She climbed in quietly, careful not to wake him, but as she shifted, Jimmy stirred. He turned to her, his eyes half-lidded with sleep.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from the sleep he was pulled from.

“Hey,” Rhea replied, her tone soft but filled with an undercurrent of exhaustion. She could feel the weight of the day still on her shoulders, the emotions from earlier in the evening threatening to resurface.

Before she could say anything else, Jimmy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his warmth. She melted into his embrace, the comfort of his closeness soothing the tension in her chest. Their lips met in a kiss, gentle at first, as if testing the waters. It was a kiss that held the weight of everything unspoken between them—the turmoil, the laughter, the exhaustion, and the unexpected connection that had formed between them.

As they pulled away slightly, Jimmy’s eyes met hers, still tired but filled with understanding. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice low and concerned.

Rhea nodded, resting her forehead against his. “Yeah,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut as she allowed herself to sink deeper into his embrace. “Just needed this.”

Jimmy nodded, holding her tighter. The world outside the tour bus faded away, and for a moment, it was just the two of them—away from the chaos, away from everything that had been weighing on her.

“Get some sleep,” he said, his voice soft, and soon after, she felt herself drifting into a deep, peaceful sleep, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling her into the comfort of his arms.

But she didn’t want to go to sleep..

“Make love to me,” she whispered as she leaned in to kiss him once more. Jimmy kissed her back, his lips soft against hers as his tongue snuck out to taste her lips. Rhea sighed, her hands traveling down to his chest as he pulled her by her hips so she can straddle his hips.

Her soft breath against his lips, her hand running through his hair-it made something possessive inside him stir, an overwhelming need to claim her as his and his alone. She'd been through so much, and no one had protected her the way he could. He wouldn't let anyone get close enough to hurt her again.

Rhea couldn’t keep quiet for long, not when Jimmy was touching her like this. She started to moan softly as he kissed her neck, her hands clenching in his hair as he sucked on her skin. Rhea had to cover her mouth to keep quiet, her body shaking as Jimmy’s hands slid up her sides.

“Demi..” Jon moaned as he felt Rhea’s heat from her most delicate area.

He felt her need for comfort, her hurt, and every ounce of it tightened something deep in him. She wasn't just a woman who had been betrayed-she was his woman, and anyone who even thought about crossing that line would have to go through him first. Jimmy wasn't about to share her with anyone-not Jey, not anyone in her past. She wasn't just some rebound, some distraction-she was his.

Jimmy tugged Rhea’s shirt up over her head, exposing her bare breasts in the dark. He sucked on her nipples, his hands traveling down to her shorts as he tugged them down her legs. Rhea kicked them off before she climbed back onto Jimmy’s lap, her hips grinding against his as she felt his dick harden beneath her.

As their lips met once more, he sure as hell didn't pull away. He deepened the kiss, claiming it, claiming her. The way her body responded, the way she let him in, it sent something dark and possessive through him. She wasn't running anymore; she wasn't hiding.

Rhea moaned into his mouth as she felt his hands sliding up her sides, his fingers brushing against her breasts as she leaned into his touch.

She was letting him in, and that meant everything.

She needed him, and that made her his responsibility-his to protect, his to comfort, his to own.

He let his mind run wild with the thought of how easy it would be to keep her right here, to never let her go. She was the only one who could make him feel this way-like everything in his life could be shut out, just to keep her safe, just to make her his in every sense of the word. And he'd do whatever it took to make sure she stayed that way.

Jimmy broke the kiss as he leaned down to suck on Rhea’s neck, his hands sliding down to her hips. Rhea moaned softly as she felt his fingers brushing against her pussy, her body trembling as he slid a finger inside of her.

Jimmy had never been one for subtlety when it came to what he wanted. He wanted Rhea. And not just in the way that others might. He wanted to be the only one who knew her deepest parts, the only one who could make her smile like that, the only one who could pull her out of her darkness and give her a reason to stay. She was his. And anyone who thought otherwise would have to answer to him.

Rhea had to keep quiet as Jimmy started to finger her, her body shaking as she felt his fingers sliding in and out of her. She leaned down to kiss him, her hands sliding into his hair as she whispered in his ear.

“Please…”

What if he's just like Jey? The thought hit Rhea harder than she expected. Jey had shattered her trust in ways she never thought possible. He had made her feel like she wasn't enough, like she was disposable, all while lying to her face. She'd given him everything-her love, her loyalty, her time-and he'd repaid her by sneaking behind her back, with Tiffany of all people. The betrayal still stung, even now. The idea of going through that kind of heartbreak again made her chest tighten.

Jimmy noticed her shift, he slowly pulled his fingers out of her and reached over to turn on the small light by the bed. “You okay?” He asked, concern in his voice.

She put her head down in his chest and he used both hands to lift up her head.

“Talk to me..”

Rhea’s gaze softened as she searched Jimmy’s face for any hint of deception, any trace of the lies she had endured with Jey. Her voice trembled as she repeated, “I don’t want you to be like him.”

Jimmy sat up slightly, his hands adjusting and his arms wrapping and tightening around her as if to ground her in the moment. His tone was firm, but his eyes betrayed his vulnerability. “I’m nothing like him,” he said, his words carrying weight.

Rhea tilted her head, her fingers lightly reaching to touch the tattoo on his left pec, her doubt still gnawing at her. “You say that now,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But Jey said all the right—“

“Demi… let me do what you needed me to do..” He pleaded. He kissed her once more but Rhea’s doubts never left.

What if I'm just repeating my mistakes? Jimmy was Jey's brother, after all. Bloodline or not, could she trust that he wouldn't do the same? That he wouldn't take advantage of her vulnerability? She hated feeling this way, doubting someone who had been nothing but kind and patient with her. But the scars Jey left were deep, and every time she started to feel herself letting her guard down, those old fears came rushing back.

Her thoughts were broken away as she felt his fingers back inside of her, she moaned softly as they went in and out. The pleasure Rhea was experience was something she hadn’t felt in such a long time, the pleasure of feeling wanted.

“Fu… fuck.. Jon..” Her head fell into the crevice of his neck.

“Fuck me, Jon,” she begged as she felt his fingers sliding out of her. Jimmy kissed her as he flipped her onto her back, his body covering hers as he slid inside of her, very quickly.

Rhea moaned softly as she felt Jimmy filling her up, her legs wrapping around his hips as she held him close. Jimmy started to thrust into her, his hips slamming into hers as she gasped for breath.

“Demi..fuck..”

“Don’t ever stop please..”

“You are fucking tight..”

He's different, a small voice in her head argued.

And maybe he was. Jimmy had shown her a side of himself that felt real, raw, and unfiltered. He didn't shelter her the way Jey had, didn't try to control her. Instead, he encouraged her to be herself, to let herself feel. He didn't demand anything from her-he just gave. But wasn't that how it always started? Sweet words, tender touches, and promises that eventually fell apart?

She knew she wasn't easy to love. She came with baggage-her temper, her insecurities, the walls she'd built so high to keep herself from getting hurt again. Jimmy didn't deserve to carry that weight, did he? Maybe this was unfair to him.

Maybe she was pushing him into a role he didn't even want.

But as Rhea had to cover her mouth to keep quiet as Jimmy thrusted into her, her body shaking as he hit that spot inside of her that made her see stars and see clarity. Jimmy wanted this role. She couldn’t keep quiet for long, not when Jimmy was thrusting into her like this. He removed her hand from her mouth and said, “Need to hear you..” Rhea nodded and she started to moan softly as he thrusted into her even more harder, her hips meeting his as she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge

She thought about the way he looked at her in the most delicate way, his eyes filled with something she could only describe as devotion. The way he didn't just listen to her, but actually heard her. He didn't treat her like a trophy or a conquest. He treated her like a person—flaws, fears, and all.

She could feel her orgasm building, her breath now coming in soft pants. Jimmy thrusted into her as hard as he could now, his hips moving against Rhea's, the bed now slightly squeaking to only where Jimmy and Rhea could hear.

He made her feel like more than just "Rhea Ripley," the tough-as-nails wrestler who didn't take shit from anyone. He made her feel like Demi-vulnerable, messy, but somehow still enough.

“Fuck I’m almost..”

“You gonna cum for me?”

“I can’t…. I can’t… fuck..”

“Cum for daddy..”

Rhea’s moan came out in a choke, her pussy clenching around his cock as she felt her orgasm reaching its climax. Jimmy’s right hand moved to her clit, teasing it with his index finger as he continued to thrust into her. Rhea’s moans were silenced by Jimmy’s left hand, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave, tears welled up in her eyes as she experienced the ultimate high.

“Demi..”

Jimmy came with a low groan, his seed filling Rhea’s pussy as she finished her orgasm. He collapsed on top of her, his breath hot and heavy against her neck. Rhea wrapped her arms around him, her fingers tracing patterns on his back as they caught their breath.

The gentle hum of the bus moving through the night became the only sound that filled the quiet space between them. Jimmy slowly pulled away from Rhea, his chest rising and falling with the weight of their shared intimacy. He shifted slightly, making sure to pull her close as he settled beside her again. Rhea, still trying to catch her breath, felt a calmness she hadn’t expected, yet the knot in her stomach remained. She couldn’t push the doubt aside completely, but she didn’t want to think about it now—not when she was here, with Jimmy, in this moment.

She turned her head to look at him, his warm, steady presence offering a sense of peace she had longed for, but hadn’t fully allowed herself to feel. He was quiet, letting the silence stretch, before he finally spoke, answering Rhea’s question.

“Does this change anything?” Rhea asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the uncertainty heavy in her words. She wasn’t sure why she asked, but the question felt like it needed to be said—like the air between them had suddenly thickened and she needed reassurance.

Jimmy paused for a moment, lifting his gaze to meet hers. His hand reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Just be in the moment,” he said softly, his eyes locking with hers. “Here with me. That’s all that matters.”

Rhea nodded, the weight of his words sinking into her. She felt her body relax against him as he pulled her in closer, her head resting on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was soothing, almost rhythmic, and for the first time in a long while, Rhea allowed herself to simply breathe.

She closed her eyes, her mind racing but trying to quiet the noise. The warmth of Jimmy’s body, the strength of his arms wrapped around her—it felt real, grounding, in contrast to the chaos she’d felt earlier. But still, those lingering doubts clung to her thoughts, like shadows she couldn’t shake.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” she whispered to herself, though she wasn’t entirely sure she believed it.

Jimmy didn’t respond immediately, but she could feel the steadiness in him, his calmness washing over her like a tide. He wasn’t asking for anything—just this moment, just her. And that, in itself, was something Rhea wasn’t used to.

Before she knew it, the exhaustion from the day’s emotions caught up to her, and her body relaxed, her eyelids growing heavy. Her thoughts began to drift, but the last thing she felt before succumbing to sleep was the warmth of Jimmy’s hand gently resting on her back.

As she let herself slip into slumber, the doubts still lingered at the edge of her mind, but they felt distant for now. Maybe tomorrow would bring clarity, or maybe it would only bring more questions. But for tonight, Rhea allowed herself to rest, to be in the moment with Jimmy, just as he had asked.

& with this chapter I am currently on my break. I will return in the new year 😭🩷

[dragqueenstarscream]

as a starscream fan, what are ur thoughts on megatron? i know their relationship is. complicated so whatever ur opinions may be id love to hear

long ramble incoming. this isn't directed at you anon; i just have a lot of thoughts about megatron that i've kept bottled up for a while

my view on megatron is... complicated.

on the one hand, he's an incredibly iconic villain, and you could argue that without megatron, transformers as a property wouldn't be much of a thing. every iconic hero needs a villain. every optimus needs his megatron.

and he's a great villain! he's iconic for a reason. frank welker is my favorite voice for him, though i will say, my favorite megatron is tfa megs for how clever he is. it's refreshing to see when a lot of megatrons will brute force and anger their way through things.

but this is where my own personal biases color how i see him, because, i'm gonna be honest... for the most part, i really don't like him.

it's not because he's a poorly written character. i've spoken about this before, but i'm an abuse survivor who's still going through it, and megatron reminds me WAY too much of my abuser for me to really like him rather than just to appreciate him as a character. it's the big reason why starscream is my favorite. i see my tendencies in him, and i see megatron as my abuser, especially tfp and armada.

i think this is the big reason why i despise megastar as a ship. if you or anyone else likes it, that's fine! more power to you. i'm not gonna knock you as a person for it. but it makes me feel really gross whenever people draw/write it as "uwu toxic yaoi" or make them seem really in love with each other. to me, all i see is someone trapped in a cycle he can't escape from.

and i think my bias is why i pretty much refuse to read mtmte/lost light, because from what i know about it, megatron is given a chance at redemption. and... i just can't. i understand that a lot of people love these comics, and hey, they're probably really good! but i can't read something where i can so easily imagine this happening with my own abuser, and i put myself in starscream's shoes, wondering if anyone will actually take what i went through seriously.

it's one of the big reasons why the first season of earthspark was so good for me. finally, at last, starscream's abuse was taken seriously! he had someone who was willing to listen! even when people like optimus and dot were willing to get along with megatron, starscream was still going through emotional hell, and no one was willing to listen to him because, hey, megatron's good now! and starscream was a backstabbing traitor, who would listen to a guy like him? and when someone did, he started to change for the better.

but then the writing team got scrapped and his arc was flushed down the toilet. boo hiss.

either way, i can't read mtmte/lost light because i hate the idea of an abuser getting a second chance like that. i know that this is for character development/exploration, and i won't knock anyone who likes those comics. i just won't read them myself.

tl;dr, i recognize that megatron is an iconic character and i like some iterations of him, but for the most part, megatron reminds me of my abuser, which makes me really dislike him.

[sourlemonsprout]

𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

Seth, Alphonse, and Boo play Just Dance.

Word Count: 871

♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚。♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚。♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚。˚♬゚。♫⋆｡

It was a bit of an understatement to say that Seth was excited when Sugar invited him over for game night at their place. It had been ages since he'd sat down and played any sort of video or board game. When Seth arrived at the house, he was greeted by Alphonse who answered the door. Al informed him that Sugar was still busy in the kitchen, but they should be done shortly. As he entered the warm house, Seth could smell the sweet aroma of baked goods and spices that wafted around the air.

"Heya Seth! Make yourself at home!" a small voice called out from the kitchen.

"Oh, wow Sugar, you really went all out, didn't you?" Seth said stepping into the living room, noticing the makeshift bar area they’d set up next to a platter of what looked like mini tapas. He looked up to see Sugar across the house, carefully carrying a deep dished tray.

"You betcha, and desserts are in the oven. I made little crème brûlés for later!" They beamed, taking off apron her and joining the boys in the living area.

Al met them with a drink and wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her closer, "What should we do first?" he asked looking between the two.

"Well let's see, I have a regular deck of cards, Clue, Spot It, Uno, Life, Apples to Apples, and Monopoly." Sugar rattled off.

"I'm sure as hell not playing Monopoly with Seth," Al laughed.

"Yeah, I think the last time we played that game things almost ended in a fistfight." Seth snorted.

He leaned over and loudly whispered, "It's cause that pink-haired boy of yours is a sore loser Sugar."

"Ugh, am not," Al smirked, rolling his eyes.

"ok ok fine," Sugar laughed.

"What about Uno? Or will that start a fight too?" They questioned.

"No that should be fine" the boys agreed.

After a few rounds of drinks, food, and some Uno, Sugar pulled the tray out of the oven and placed the custard-filled ramekins in the fridge to chill. On their way back, an idea shot into their head. They suggested that they boot up the Switch and play some Just Dance.

"Sure thing, I was gettin' tired of beatin' you two at this card game anyway," Seth boasted.

"Ok ok, calm down there 'hot shot'," Al said dumping his hand of cards in the middle of the table.

"Let's see if you can keep up at this game." He said with a smirk as he stood up to stretch.

Seth had never played Just Dance before, and it was fair to say that dancing was not his forte. But why ruin all the fun? The other two seemed excited, so he stood up and helped move the coffee table full of Uno cards off to the side while Sugar and Al set up.

Seth had greatly underestimated how much of a workout this was going to be. After the first few songs, he was feeling the heat and had to take his jacket off. Nevertheless, he was having fun, and it was clear that Al and his Boo were in their element.

"Don't Stop Me Now " was the straw that broke the camel's back. Seth, exhausted and embarrassingly sweaty, retired to the couch. He continued to watch as the couple in front of him continued to kill it song after song.

How the hell are they able to play this long? He thought with a small chuckle

"HA, MEGASTAR! TAKE THAT BOO." Alphonse yelled triumphantly throwing his hands up in the air.

"Nice to see you catching up after such a long losing streak," they replied smugly, jabbing at his side playfully.

"I promise that won't last long, prepare to say goodbye to your crown after this one." They said, readying up the next song.

Before the song even started, Sugar was posed and ready, Al following not too far behind once the characters fazed onto the screen.

Seth's eyebrows furrowed as Sugar effortlessly struck a "perfect" on every move while Al struggled to regain his lead.

"Uhh Sugar… how often do you play this game?" he laughed. With a quick jump and spin, they were facing Seth. He sat up in his seat a little more, shocked (and honestly a little concerned) as he watched the screen while Sugar continued to hit every move on the mark.

"There's a solid chance you could beat me in just about any other video game, but Just Dance is my shit. I can't tell you how many of these I have memorized!" They smiled sweetly, striking a golden "YEAH" pose, before jumping back around to finish off the song as normal.

"It's not fair, you had that song completely memorized," Al complained as he plopped onto the couch next to Seth.

"Alright alright you two, haven't those crème brulés chilled long enough? I think it's time for dessert!" Seth said eagerly.

"Oh yeah! I wanna burn the sugar on the top of mine!" Al said scrambling for the blowtorch on the kitchen counter.

"Ugh we better go watch him before he sets something on fire," Sugar smiled as they followed Alphonse into the kitchen.

♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚。♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚。♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚。˚♬゚。♫⋆｡

The End <3

[shunin-gumis]

As Master Joe Wishes - Track 02

Seasonal Team Event - L4mps

Thank you Jelly for handling this chapter!

~~~(flashback)

Toi: Wawawaa! The exterior was lovely, but the interior is also wonderful! It looks like the kind of place where the main character falls in love with the love interests, or have major misunderstandings... It’s so heart pounding!

Ryui: Oi, ‘sit okay to take pictures here? I wanna take pictures of Toi.

Samejima: It should be fine, I think.

Daniel: …The way you say that means this ain’t your house?

Netaro: Sammy lives in much cheaper accommodation than this.

Samejima: Hahaha, but after 30 years, my loan will—... Hey, wait a sec!

Yodaka: Apologies for the sudden question, Samejima-san, but how exactly are you acquainted with Netaro?

Samejima: Well after a certain case, he's started to help me with some of my investigations. Only occasionally, though.

Nagi: …By a certain case, do you mean the one with the missing heart and flowers*?

Yodaka: I see, so it was then… I understand.

Ryui: And? Can we get back on track? Don’ tell me we came in just to have a fuckin’ tea party? If it’s that then I’m headin’ home.

Samejima: Haha, that would put me in a tight spot so let's get started.

Samejima: Uhh, we called everyone here today to this remote location because of a certain request. —Hiramei, the documents.

Hiramei: Sup, I’m Samejima-san’s subordinate, Hiramei, nice to meet you. Here are the holo-documents!

Daniel: …A guard for this manor’s master?

Samejima: Yes. That being said, the original owner of this place passed of senility a few days ago.

Samejima: Her name was “Brunhild Senba.” She was a megastar of the acting world and a German residing in Japan.

Yodaka: In that case, who will we be acting as guards for?

Samejima: That’s the thing. You see, she didn’t have any family members, so through the will, the enormous inheritance she possessed was transferred to a different person…, no, a different child…took it all. That child… is the one you must protect.

Ryui: …This shit seems kinda convoluted.

Samejima: Ahh yeah… I’m not too sure how to explain that part. ...Nevermind that, let’s move on.

Samejima: So, Brunhild-shi was a famous gem collector. She collected many exotic and rare gems.

Samejima: But after her death, rumors that she poured most of her wealth into a custom made “secret treasure” began to circulate about.

Samejima: That’s when we received news that the internationally wanted criminal organization, “Anonymous,” had set their sights on it. Well, they’re called a criminal organization, but they’re honestly just a ragtag bunch of troublemakers… That being said, we can’t let down our guards

Samejima: And amidst that, a world famous phantom thief also got wrapped up in it…

Daniel: Ahh, what the hell, I'm going home.

Toi: Ehhh!? Why!? Danny-san, we’re about to get to the good part!!

Daniel: My dead grandma always told me to never stick my nose into trouble.

Nagi: Trouble……? But it’s like a scene outta a cool drama.

Yodaka: Putting that aside, I think it would be a bit difficult for amateurs like us to go against a criminal organization.

Ryui: I agree with Natsume. Couldn’t give two shits about Hachinoya, but I don’t want Toi to be put in danger.

Daniel: And that’s that. See ya.

Netaro: I won’t let you! You shall not pass, you shall not pass~~~!

Daniel: Woah……. Oi, Netaro, be a good boy and let me go.

Netaro: Nopes, no goesies. If you want to pass, you’ll have to do it over my dead body.

Samejima: Hahaha, sorry, but can you hear me out until the end?

Samejima: And so, well, as you can all guess, we want to use that secret treasure as bait and lure “Anonymous” out in order to round them all up in one go.

Ryui: And like I said, why’s it gotta be us? The police should just do their own thing.

Netaro: Is Ryui a dumb dumb? It’s because they can’t, which is why I was consulted♪

Ryui: You wanna fucking go?

Netaro: And that’s ‘cause, the one we’ll be guarding~, is the “secret treasure” itself~.

Netaro: It’s a very Kawaii and pretty thing after all♪

Ryui: Huh……? The fuck you——

??: May I have your attention please~~~~~~!!!!!!!!!

Notes:

The missing heart and flower case is from Netaro's novel

[nuhackearney]

Fic: At A Loss

For @romanthereigns and anyone else feeling a little blue over LA's loss tonight. I said I wouldn't go here, but here we are...(aka, LA Knight x Reader)

You get people drinks, you pick up towels, you watch over equipment...yeah, you're pretty much a go-fer, but you adore your job! You get to travel, meet interesting people and you work for one of the most entertaining businesses in the world - the WWE!

Sure, the superstars don't know your name and you're not famous or anything, but you're an important cog in a big machine and you know your worth.

...you also know you have a helpless, stupid, unbelievably bad crush on LA Knight.

...yeah.

You're into him.

Too bad that, just like everyone else in the biz, he'll never notice you. Hell, he doesn't even know you exist.

Or so you think.

You're on hand for Crown Jewel. The energy is high, the activity chaotic. You've never dashed around so much in your life! Water bottle for Sami Zayn here, a boom for a member of camera crew there, and so on and so on.

You manage to catch snippets of different matches, but as a whole it's hard to keep up. Right until the very end. The end where the Bloodline yet again interferes and yet again help Roman score the win.

...which means LA lost.

It's a sobering realization. You were really rooting for him - even aside from your ridiculous one sided crush - you were hoping for someone to finally dethrone the Tribal Chief.

But, yet again, disappointed.

Poor LA, you think, but you know better. He's a big strong guy, he'll bounce back, no skin off his nose. He's the Megastar, everyone says his name and everyone knows it's his game. He'll be fine.

Again, or so you think.

Until, very very late into the evening, as you go to clean up one of the messy break rooms and you come across him. It makes your breath bottle in your throat, the sight of him sitting on one of the cafeteria tables, his head in his hands.

He's fully dressed now - brown leather jacket, 'Yeah' shirt, jeans, and boots. A totally different look from what he wore to the ring tonight. He must hear you come in, because he lifts his head to turn and look at you.

You clear your throat and offer a weak wave, even as you manage a near toneless, "I'll, ah-? Come back later..."

The plan is to stealthily back out, but he sits up straight and gestures to you, "Naw, naw - come on over, y/n."

His voice is loud, but more somber than you've heard it before and he? He said your name? You carefully ease further into the room and walk towards him, your fingers sort of nervously playing with one another as you get closer, "Um? You know my name?"

"Sure. I've seen you at lots of shows. They call your name all the time for shit. Ice packs, sandwiches, hairspray - there anything they don't have you fetch?"

You shake your head because he's not wrong. Again, you know your role. Maybe that's what he needs? Your go-fer skills? And you're about to ask if you can get him something when he asks quietly, "Think you can get me a second shot?"

This makes you seize up, "What do you mean?"

He lets out a huff, "Guess you didn't see me lose out there."

You don't know what to say.

He does, "Oh yeah, a big ol' 'L'. Granted, Roman's boys stuck in their noses again - Solo making a stink at the front, Jimmy in the back, but the end results just the same."

You've never seen him so serious before, so-? Well, melancholy is the first word that comes to mind, and the thought twists your heart into knots. You want to reassure him. Say something cool or clever, but your tongue is numb as he runs one hand over his five o'clock grizzled chin, "I dunno. Maybe I've been fooling myself. Fooling everybody."

"That's not true!" You blurt it out so quickly you almost don't realize you're the one who said it. But then his blue eyes swing to you and it's like a laser slicing you in half, that intense focus of his.

You clear your throat and feel your cheeks heat even as you keep your eyes averted when you talk, "You're-? You're the real deal. I know it. I feel it."

You know he's still looking at you and you feel a little sick and your heart is beating double time but you press on, "Yes, you didn't take the gold this time, but everyone is still behind you. Everybody is still saying your name, chanting for you - you're a superstar, you're a champion!"

"Yeah?" And he asks his normally rowdy catchphrase in a wry, teasing way that only makes the heat in your cheeks worse and god, this is torture. Does he know you have a crush on him?!? Is he possibly teasing you to death?

Being on the business end of one of his BFT's would be kinder...

"Yeah." You cough into one hand so that you can try and subtly rub away some of the heat from your skin, "So, y'know - you'll win. Get the gold you deserve. It's only a matter of time."

"Matter of time, huh?"

You nod and finally risk looking at him. He looks deep in thought and it's almost as if you can read his mind, "I-? I know you have been waiting for a long time already. But... it's going to happen. I promise."

There's a beat of silence between you and then, out of nowhere, he throws back his head and laughs. It's a happy sound and attractive laugh lines appear under his eyes as he reaches out a hand to you and ruffles your hair.

Such a simple and silly action shouldn't be so stimulating, yet here you are, practically melting under it as he rubs warmly and gently at your scalp, "You know what, y/n? You're right. It IS going to happen. YEAH."

The last is said loudly and with his classic jovial tone as he withdraws his hand and he stands up to get down to your level, albeit he still towers over you, "Not only 'cause you promised me, but because I promised myself! I just needed the reminder!"

"Oh!" You offer weakly, breathlessly, "Uh, good! Glad I could help!"

Your next plan is to turn and scurry away because you're sure that's what he wants, because that's what everyone wants after you've helped, but he freezes you with a, "Now wait a minute, you ain't leaving, are ya?"

Your eyes go wide with confusion even as he offers you the kind of saucy grin you've only seen from afar, "'Cause I could still use your help."

"Y-you could?"

"Sure." He eyes you up and down, "I need somebody to go out and eat with me tonight. Need somebody to test my kavorka on. Make sure it's still working."

It is, trust me! Almost pops out of your mouth immediately, but this time you manage to hold the words back, instead giving him a demur, "Alright."

"There we go." He throws one arm around your shoulders and gives you a little squeeze, "Hey, stick with me, kid and I promise you, you'll get what you deserve!"

While you're positive that he thinks you deserve a better job or pay or something along those lines, you honestly hope that you get what you want more than what you deserve.

Hell, you're actually getting what you want right now.

A night out with LA Knight?

YEAH.

[cosmics-beings]

I wanted to make a post like this for a while, but since i was asked the question i can make it here!

i'm also speaking as an actual black person....so if you don't like these conversations where black people speak on black issues and how we feel, then just ignore this.

So in the past, yeah I agreed with this but my opinion has kinda changed with TF One.

However, I am still extremely uncomfortable seeing depictions of Black human formers Megatron because most of it, especially in ship art is extremely racist and relies on racist stereotypes of black men being abusive, violent, and problematic when his partners are drawn white or lightskinned (i see this all the time in megastar and megaop art. megatron is portrayed as the huge brutal black man and starscream/optimus are the small white twinks who are being beaten by him - it's gross and racist but for some reason it's common).

In general, I think it can be harmful to make a slave character, who inevtibly turns into a genocidal war lord and a generally awful person, a black person (even with his redemption arcs). it also racializes slavery, when we know that slavery doesn't have a race, and Megatron himself is a gladiator. Gladiators are slaves, and one of the most famous gladiators was from Thracia. This again is mostly a fan issue, because I at least have always seen Megatron coded as white in the comics and in the shows. In many depictions, he has a European accent, voiced by white European people (posh english lmao, or in ES Scottish).

That said, in TF One, I'm willing to let it slide. That's because Megatron isn't the only slave. Optimus, who is voiced by a white man, is also a slave, as is Elita, and Bumblebee. I think you know, not racializing slavery and having this notion that slave = black by default, is what makes it okay.

I still wouldn't feel super comfortable seeing Black megatron fanart because again, none of the depictions have been good in my opinion, as a Black person. And i mean none of them, and I do wonder where the thought in this fandom came from that making a person who canonically is violent and aggressive, was okay, just because he happened to be a slave. It is a far too common trope that I see in fanfic and fanfart, especially again...in a shipping sphere.

But I think TF One is able to balance it out, and since this is D-16, he is. a lot calmer, kinder, etc. I think things can get in muddy area when he eventually does turn into Megatron and he becomes the genocidal tyrant we all know and love....especially when you make the black one of the group the one who chooses violence whereas the white voices ones don't.

but who knows? My opinions are ever changing depending on how things are handled.

if you disagree with this, that's fine just do so respectfully and i mean at least be black

[burnwater13]

Ming-Na Wen as Fennec Shand and Tem Morrison as Boba Fett, sitting in the throne room of Jabba's Palace, on Tatooine, in The Book of Boba Fett.

Grogu had done so many things lately. He’d been so many places. It sometimes seemed like his life, and the way he and his dad lived it, was impossible. It certainly wasn’t the life he had anticipated when he was studying at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Nope. It was nothing like that life. He wondered if that was true for everyone. What did his dad expect to be when he grew up? You know, before the whole battle droids destroy his village on Ac Vetina and he’s rescued by Mandalorians from the Death Watch?

Or Boba Fett? Had he always expected to become a Daimyo on a desert planet when he was raised on a world that was mostly water? Or Fennec? Grogu didn’t even know what planet she came from and she was in no rush to tell him or anyone else. Had she always planned to spend her time citing in her blaster rifle? She seemed too refined for that. 

To be honest, the only person he knew who was doing what seemed exactly like what they were always destined to do was Peli Motto. Fast talking, slick, happy, clever, with an actual deep knowledge of vehicles of every sort. Grogu could not imagine her being anything other than a mechanic and repair shop owner. 

“Sorry to disappoint ya kid. My parents had their hearts set on me being megastar in the music world. You’re lookin’ at Tatooine’s only player of Opah Bladder Bagpipes. But I chose the much less cut throat world of starship repair here because I didn’t want to sully my craft.”

Grogu didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never even heard of Opah Bladder Bagpipes, let alone actually heard anyone play them. The few times he’d heard Peli whistle a tune, well, it was out of tune. She seemed like the least musical person he’d ever known. It was quite a shock to find out that she had once been on that path. Next he was going to find out that his dad had hoped to teach etiquette and fine manners to the well off on Ac Vetina.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Kid. I hoped to become a chef. I like food and I like cooking. Finding the right ingredients, refining the spice blends, knowing when to roast and when to sear… that’s how I liked spending my time when I wasn’t at the farmer’s market or in school. Once I swore myself to the Creed it just didn’t make sense anymore. Who would go to a tavern for fine Mandalorian cooking?  No one. There are no Mandalorian chefs for a good reason. After spending your life in a helmet, everything you eat tastes the same. That’s why Mandalorians love hot sauce.”

Grogu just shook his head and scuffed his feet as he left the cabin. Why did two of his favorite people give up their dreams so easily? It didn’t make any sense. The next time they were on Tatooine he brought his conundrum to Boba Fett. 

“I think you are being a bit harsh to Miss Motto and your father, young Grogu. You may dream of a path but the galaxy has a way of revealing it to you that may disappoint your inner child while at the same time keeping the rest of you among the living. I loved my father and my brothers very much and hoped that I would spend the rest of my days with them, traveling the galaxy. 

I had never considered what sort of career I wanted when I was grown, because what I wanted was to be just like my dad. In many ways I have accomplished that, and in others, I have fallen short. I have no children of my own and he would not have wanted me to spend my life alone like that. Alas, he was not available when I made my choices. 

Tell me, what did you think you would have become if the Emperor had stayed on Naboo and sold fish at a stall in the market square, which I understand was his trajectory when he was a young man?”

Grogu took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He needed to prepare himself properly for the discussion because he’d been thinking about it for weeks. He couldn’t just blurt things out. He had to be thoughtful and reasoned. The Daimyo deserved to understand the answer he provided.

Grogu took another deep breath, squared himself up to the only person he knew who was actually older than him, and began to explain, using the sign language the Sand people had taught them.

He explained to the Daimyo that he had hoped to pursue a pathway among the Jedi that would allow him to assist people in the development and maintenance of facilities, buildings, structures, and dwellings that would support inter-species harmony. 

“You wanted to be an architect? A Jedi architect? Surly the Jedi had enough of them. Their temples were everywhere once.”

Grogu nodded his head vigorously and began to explain. Yes, the Jedi had temples everywhere, but much like the Empire, their buildings seemed to be unduly biased towards supporting humans and their closely related cousins like Twi’leks and Togruta. Even Iktotchi could occupy a space that was designed primarily for humans with minimal discomfort. But what about Wookiee's? Or Hutts? Or Toydarians? Who was designing spaces to accommodate and support them?

“And you would have devoted your whole life to that pursuit? You have many amazing skills at your command. Just a wave of your hand and you could pull that gorg from its tank and have it for lunch. Why would you want to spend your time in that way?”

Boba Fett had clearly never tried to use a privy that was designed for humans. Grogu sighed. 

“Hey Boss, don’t rain on the parade the kid will never walk in. Imagine being him and every place you go the sensor for the door is set a meter higher than your head. Or every chair has to be climbed into like you’re riding a bantha. I’ve been to that temple he grew up in. It was all soaring spaces and broad halls and no way finding markers at all. Easy place to get lost and a hard place to hide. I don’t blame the kid for wanting to design something that helped out other people. Imagine how much the Anzellans could do if we weren’t literally tripping over them because we both walk on the same pathways. Any how… do you mind if I borrow the kid? I have some tasks that only he can do.”

“Of course Fennec, if Grogu wishes to help you. But no having him change targets for you at the range. His dad complained about that whole in his coverall from the last time he helped you.”

Grogu laughed. That was true. Din Djarin hadn’t been happy about the ‘extra ventilation’ Fennec had added to his coverall that day. 

“No problem, Boss. I’ve already taken care of my weapons maintenance tasks today. Nope. This is something easy and the kid will enjoy it.”

“Very well.”

The Daimyo had seen Grogu nodding his head as he darted over to Fennec so they could go handle whatever task she had for him. He liked helping her because she was very good at sourcing flash frozen froglets for him. 

As they walked down the corridor leading away from the throne room Grogu chirped at Fennec. He wanted to find out what exactly they job was that she needed his help with.

“Unlike the rest of them, I still do what I always wanted to do when I was a youngling. I have a friend who just had a baby and I promised to sew them a set of robes. You’re just the right size to act as my mannequin. I promise I won’t stick you with any pins. After we’re done, I’ll have your dad bring up your frog soufflé. I bet him he couldn’t make anything that complicated and invoked the Creed. He couldn’t wait to push that droid out of the kitchen.”

Fennec laughed and Grogu joined her. He supposed it was never too late to pursue your dreams.

[gabykatttt]

My sister’s a fraud final pt

What is it Ritz? Veneer asked with a confused look on his face.

Well ever since I first saw you. I always knew that you’re an amazing person I ever met through childhood KidRitz said blushing.

Veneer couldn’t help but blush deeply red.

Before you were forced to do Velvet’s forbidding of kidnapping Floyd for fame you were always good at singing with your own talent KidRitz said.

Are you in love with me? Veneer asked. KidRitz nodded.

Orchid watched her friends being a couple and started crying.

Veneer blushed and smiled. The boys got a closer to each other and kissed on the lips.

The gang began to cheer with joy seeing KidRitz and Veneer became a couple.

Veneer and KidRitz stopped and seeing Orchid crying in tears of heartbreak.

What’s wrong Orchid? KidRitz asked.

Nothing it’s just that Velvet did all of this just to be a star and hurting you guys Orchid said crying even more.

KidRitz and Veneer got closer to Orchid and hugged her.

Don’t worry Orchid it’s gonna be okay Veneer said smiling.

Yeah everything’s going to be fine KidRitz said.

Aww look guys they’re hugging Poppy said.

So cute Viva said.

The trolls join the hugs too.

Few months later

Mount Rageous Prison

Ohh look is that little wanna be famous star Velvet one of the inmates said.

Yeah she stole the poor little trolls talent just to be a megastar said the other inmate.

Oh oh be careful she’s gonna hit us like she did to her brother the third inmate said.

Velvet turned around and looked at the inmates deadly in the eyes.

If you guys have some to say then say it to my fucking face Velvet said growling. The inmates panicked and ran off.

That’s what I thought Velvet said as she sat on the table to eat her lunch.

Still eating her lunch Velvet heard the tv turning on.

Alright Mount Rageous tonight we have a special guest joining us let’s give around of applause to our overnight superstars Veneer and KidRitz.

What Velvet growled as she took her attention on the tv. She felt with mixed emotions anger and jealousy.

It’s not fair Velvet said to herself eating her food.

It’s not fair Velvet repeated again this time anger affecting her.

ITS NOT FUCKING FAIR Velvet yelled throwing her food on the floor and went back to her cell.

It’s not fair Velvet said starting to cry that she lost everything her money,fame,and her fans.

Time to skip

Veneer’s interview

So Veneer how did you and KidRitz start your careers what’s your secret? The interviewer asked.

Well it’s pretty simple me and Ritzy we started taking lots of hard work and loads of practice Veneer said

Not to mention we became a singing duo KidRitz said kissing Veneer’s cheeks.

Okay well you guys don’t mind singing a song for us? The interviewer asked requesting.

Sure Veneer and KidRitz said as they got up and started singing their new song.

Veneer 🎶🎤

Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, oh

Oh-oh, oh-oh

Veneer and KidRitz 🎶🎤

If I should die before I wake

It's 'cause you took my breath away

Losing you is like living in a world with no air, oh

I'm here alone, didn't wanna leave

My heart won't move, it's incomplete

Wish there was a way that I can make you understand

Veneer 🎶🎤

But how do you expect me

To live alone with just me?

'Cause my world revolves around you

It's so hard for me to breathe

Veneer and KidRitz 🎶🎤

Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air

Can't live, can't breathe with no air

That's how I feel whenever you ain't there

There's no air, no air

Got me out here in the water so deep

Tell me how you're gon' be without me

If you ain't here, I just can't breathe

There's no air, no air

No air, air (Oh-oh)

No air, air (No)

No air, air (Oh-oh)

KidRitz and Veneer 🎶🎤

I walked, I ran, I jumped, I flew

Right off the ground to float to you

There's no gravity to hold me down for real

But somehow, I'm still alive inside

You took my breath, but I survived

I don't know how, but I don't even care

Veneer and KidRitz 🎶🎤

So how (How) do you expect me (Me)

To live alone with just me? (Oh, oh)

'Cause my world revolves around you

It's so hard for me to breathe

Veneer and KidRitz 🎶🎤

Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air (Oh-oh, oh-oh)

Can't live, can't breathe with no air (Oh-oh, oh-oh)

That's how I feel whenever you ain't there

There's no air, no air

Got me out here in the water so deep (So deep)

Tell me how you're gon' be without me (Without me, yeah)

If you ain't here, I just can't breathe

There's no air, no air

Veneer and KidRitz 🎶🎤

No air, air (Oh, ooh-ooh)

No air, air (Oh, ooh-ooh)

No air, air (No, no)

No air, air

No more

(No, no, no, no air)

(No, no, no air) Ooh-ooh, baby

(No, no, no air) Oh-woah

There's no air, no air

Hey (No air), ooh

No air (No, no, no air), oh

(No, no, ain't there) Oh-oh

The fans clapped their hands as show was about to end.

Alright Mount Rageous that was Veneer and KidRitz new song no air make sure you catch their performance this weekend on the rage dome show The interviewer said causing the fans to cheer loudly.

Thanks for having us Veneer said.

It means a lot KidRitz said smiling.

No problem you guys thank you for coming the interviewer said smiling.

Time to skip

Veneer and KidRitz got back home after their interview.

Man today was exhausting KidRitz taking his shoes off and sat on the couch.

I know Veneer replied wearing his pajamas.

Well at least we’re a duo Veneer said turning on the tv and sat next to KidRitz.

I know KidRitz said wrapping his arms around Veneer and cuddled.

I love you Ritzy Veneer said.

I love you too baby KidRitz said kissing Veneer on the forehead.

[tytarax2]

Complaining

Warnings: Skarra's minor injury

Four games into your Super League career and you've won Man of the Match every time.

How does it feel to be in the spotlight, Max Power?

Well, Rob, pretty rotten actually.

And why's that, Max?

Feel a bit bad taking Skarra's spot, yeah? It's not his fault he's injured.

The television was on in one of the rooms of the Invincible United stadium, while you were trying to change your boyfriend's bandages.

"Feel a bit bad, yeah? Whatever, schmuck"

"Hey, stop moving, I'm trying to work here, Skarra"

"It's not my fault that guy is an idiot"

"Sure, whatever you say, but you can complain without moving"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I'll stop," He said as he opened his laptop to check his newest campaign for players with minor injuries or something like that, and started writing.

"My injury has helped me relate to people in need"

“Yeah, that’s pretty believable with the face you have right now,” you said sarcastically, laughing a bit.

"Shut up"

"Megastars with minor injuries?" Dingan asked looking over Skarra's shoulder. Question no one answered of course.

While Max was still talking on the TV, you finally finished fixing Skarra's bandage.

"Well, I'm done, try not to push yourself too hard, 'kay?"

"Yeah, sure," He said as you leaned in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Bye babe, bye Dingan, see you guys in the next match"

"Bye" Answered both guys.

---

It's the day of the match between Invincible United and Clube Palmentieri (I think it is Palmentieri), you were sitting on the public benches closest to the court, Skarra had gotten you the tickets btw, and you were close to the bench where he was sitting with one of his teammates.

Meanwhile, Skarra was not paying attention to the match, he was still checking his funny campaign, and Automatic was giving it a little sneak peek.

"Invitations 23, attending 0" He said with mockery "Even your girlfriend won't go?"

Skarra placed a hand on Automatic's face and pushed him away while sighing. "She'll go, but she won't be playing."

"Oh, I see, she'll be busy taking care of you"

"Shut up, you idiot"

-

The match was already over, and obviously, the Man of the Match award was won by Max Power. Meanwhile, you jumped off the benches to join Skarra.

"You weren't bored, were you?"

"You kidding me? I'm not able to play and this Australian kid is taking all the attention I deserve"

"You really sound like a spoiled brat" You laughed

"Well, it's not like you complain"

"Hey, I never said I don't like that"

"Anyway, let's go"

"Want me to help you with your bag?"

"Neh, I'm fine, thanks"

You two were approaching the exit where Max and Vince were also heading.

"Hah, anyone can be Man of the Match if they hog the ball all the time"

"Back off, Skarra" Vince answered

"What? You're gonna side with happy face kid over here?" Skarra asked and Max interrupted

"Hey, I've been injured before. It's so frustrating. You got some kind of charity going, yeah?

"It's an awareness campaign to create awareness for people suffering like me" Skarra answered as you scoffed and watched Vince go away.

"That sounds great, I'll be there," said "happy face kid"

"Cool, whatever" Skarra took his laptop out of his bag and looked at his profile, checking that Max was the first one attending, and smiled a bit.

"Well, he sure is nice, he even made you smile"

"Shut it, and don't you dare say he's nice in my presence... not even not in my presence"

"Aw, look who's jealous, no way, the guy is way too Australian and happy for my liking."

---

Now the two of you were watching the match between the grey team and the yellow team, it was the first day of Skarra's charity, and some guys attended at least.

Eventually, Shakes and El Matador also arrived, what you heard was that El Matador had suffered from a broken toenail… Definitely a minor injury… but what the fuck?

Almost 2 hours later, you were already getting hungry, so Skarra called a time off, and everyone went to lunch. You two were eating hotdogs with soda watching as Shakes and Max were befriending.

"Well, I'll be damned, that's weird" You commented.

"Huh, this jerks, trying to be best pals?" Skarra said, and then you heard El Matador yelling "Shakes, you can't be buddies with the opponent"

And then both El Matador and Skarra saying "Where's your loyalty?" made you laugh.

---

Finally, it was Supa Strikas vs Invincible United match day, you took Skarra to the game in your car, taking advantage of the fact that you live in the same house, apart so that Skarra wouldn't have such an uncomfortable trip on the bus.

When you were approaching the stadium you both saw Max getting out of Vince's car.

"How come Max gets to ride in the limo, I'm the one with the injury, I'm the one who deserves special treatment!"

"Hey, no complaining, I brought you here, I may not have a limo, but it's still a comfortable car"

"Yeah, and thanks, but still," He said taking your hand for support, and started walking again.

-

The match was already over, and surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly... Shakes was the one who won Man of the Match, but he started making a commotion trying to call Max over the pitch for a while when finally he... or should I say, they arrived, there were two Max Powers, well, twins.

At that moment you were already side to side with Skarra looking at Vince with mockery.

"Twins? Nice one. Serves you right for not telling me!"

-

"Can't believe that punk almost doubled me out of my teeth" Skarra said walking to the exit

El Matador, who was walking beside Skarra and on the opposite side of you, answered him, and then he placed a bunch of those erasable stickers on Skarra's arm, to which he yelled in frustration, and you laughed.

"Now now, calm down, let's go get that out of your arm, I really don't want to sleep with those creepy things hugging me"

Masterlist