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tiredfox64 · 2 days

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Love your writing for bi-han- but I want to see how you write Kung Lao a little more. I have a personal headcanon that Kung Lao loved bunnies..so I was thinking- what if hybrid bunny reader one day shows up at the academy and Kung Lao becomes smitten. Like full blown- protective- I’ve laid my claim to this one- no one touch her she’s mine and reader is just like “huh-“

Hop to it

Yip notes: Headcanon? I thought it was canon! Also sorry if this is weird but the way you worded your first sentence reminded me of what my professors would say to me when it came to my writing and idk it’s funny to me.

Pairing: Kung Lao x Hybrid Bunny! Afab reader

Warnings‼️: No thumping

Have you seen? Have you heard? The bunny girl in the Wu Shi Academy is hopping to and fro. Of course, you know who that bunny girl is. She is you!

You were just a girl looking for a safe place where no one would harm you and you could obtain food. That’s when Liu Kang found you. He found you munching on berries you picked from bushes that were near the Wu Shi Academy. You were worried that you were in trouble but Liu Kang was very kind to you. He informed you that you could stay with the Wu Shi for as long as you wanted and have as many berries as you desired. You were very grateful for his acceptance. He did tell you to not worry too much about the monks and warriors around. They won’t bother you at all. Well, he thought they wouldn’t.

He should have known better and realized Kung Lao would be excited to see you.

The first time he ever saw you was a magical moment for him. He was resting by the shade, watching everyone else train. He was near the blackberry bushes and decided why the heck not. He can go for a couple of berries. But when he went to get a handful he saw another hand grab them. He jumped back and yelped a little. That’s when your long bunny ears popped up from behind the bushes. You started to stand up and Kung Lao got a look at you.

He saw how your ears matched your hair color perfectly. You had a cotton tail that was puffy. Below your knees were actual bunny paws. Toe beans and fur! He was shocked. He’s never seen a creature like you. You stared at him while munching on the blackberries quickly, the purple juice staining your lips. Since he wasn’t speaking, you decided to hop away. You moved like a bullet with your bunny legs.

He stood there gawking like an idiot. It was only when Johnny began to speak that he became aware of his surroundings again.

“Finally met the bunny girl, huh? She’s a cutie.”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

If only Kung Lao was that enthusiastic about gardening when he and Raiden were back in Fengjian. He’s working those monks to the bone. Since when did Kung Lao like oregano and celery?

It’s not for him. It’s all for you. The moment the garden seemed to be flourishing he grabbed the biggest vegetables and the ripest fruits and gave them to you like they were a bouquet of flowers. You were ecstatic and thanked him a bunch, even hugging him which captured his heart even more.

To everyone else, this crush that Kung Lao had on you was a surprise. It happened so fast. Raiden understood immediately. Kung Lao always had a love for bunnies. While all the other gardeners and harvesters hated bunnies since they would mess up the crops, Kung Lao was the exception. He would make sure none of the bunnies got hurt and would help bring them somewhere safe. He would never keep any of them since he knew he couldn’t stay with them the whole time. Might as well let them stay free.

But you! You’re around all the time. That means he can have you and love you, and cuddle you, and pet you, and…and…AND! Relax, Kung Lao! You’re gonna hurt your precious brain.

Oh, he couldn’t help himself. He did everything to get close to you and have you trust him. It worked. Soon enough he was next to you all the time, petting your ears and feeling how soft your fur was. His eyes would shine with adoration at every little thing you did. He found the way you eat to be adorable. Whenever you shake your cotton tail his cheeks would warm up from how cute it was. When your ears would flop around he wanted to play with them.

Yes, you’ve sure captured his attention and his heart. Now that he has you in his life he never wants to let you go. You’re just too precious and he would do anything for you. He would even protect you. He’s already been protecting you.

Let’s be honest, Johnny is a flirt. After his ex-wife left him and he hadn’t seen a female in months his eyes were on you. Yeah, he knew Kung Lao was smitten with you. But does that stop a man who thinks with his second head? Didn’t think so. That man had plans and Kung Lao was not happy with what Johnny was thinking.

“I bet she would look good in a Playboy bunny outfit. No ears needed.” He joked with Kung Lao.

All Johnny got in return was a death glare. He was not pleased with that perverted comment. He would have smacked the fuck out of him if it weren’t for Liu Kang being around. You don’t deserve comments like that, especially behind your back. That’s why Kung Lao does his best to respect you, love you, and treat you right. He’ll protect you from Johnny’s perverted ways. He’s a better man than him anyway.

It does explain why he was being more touchy with you.

Whenever you two would pass the others, Kung Lao would wrap his arm around your shoulders before carrying on. Or he would ask you for a hug which you never deny him of. You like being squeezed by his muscular arms. And of course, he would mess with your ears. He would push them back, flop them up and down, or try to make the fur on them point straight up.

For some reason you were not getting the hint that he liked you. The abundance of vegetables and his touches didn’t set off any alarms in your mind. You silly bunny! He had to say it outright for you to get the idea.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Kung Lao was really getting agitated with Johnny at this point. He wouldn’t shut up about how he could easily win you over even though he has done nothing for you. He’s never given you a compliment on how high you could jump or even found the sweet spot behind your left ear. Only Kung Lao has been treating you right. If you were to fall in love with anyone it would be him.

Something snapped inside of him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re a bigger fool than I imagined, Johnny. You clearly don’t know how to take care of a lady, let alone a bunny lady.”

You’re right, Kung Lao. But you didn’t have to say it out loud. My goodness.

“I’m the only one around here who has made an effort to claim her heart and protect her. I would never let you touch her even with a ten-foot pole. She’s mine, Johnny, get over yourself.”

“Huh?”

Your voice rang out behind him. When he looked at everyone’s faces which confirmed that you were behind him. Even Kenshi had an awkward face, and he usually had a grumpy expression. Kung Lao slowly turned around and saw you looking at him with a curious expression. Your head was tilted to the side and your ears were pointed straight up. Well, this is a little awkward.

“Well since you are so sure about her falling for you why don’t you ask her right now.” Johnny was getting sassy.

Immediately Kung Lao grabbed onto his razor-rimmed hat and was about to chuck it at Johnny but everyone was yelling at him to relax. Even you told him not to do it since there was no point in getting himself in trouble.

“There is no need to kill him! He never had a chance anyways.” See you said it yourself; Johnny never had a chance.

Kung Lao luckily stopped and turned back towards you. He shouldn’t be shocked, he was putting in the work. He showed you kindness. He was delicate with your fur and ears. He never made an attempt to pull your tail like some people did. You watched him gather all those yummy vegetables and fruits for you the first time he decided to talk to you. You knew at that moment that you could trust him with your life.

Johnny, and everyone in general, never stood a chance. You wanted Kung Lao and he clearly wanted you. You gave him a smile before grabbing his face and placing a kiss on his cheek. His cheek warmed up immediately which you found cute.

Oh my, he’s getting shy! Looks like the prideful and skilled Kung Lao was stumped by a cute bunny girl. You sure gained yourself a cutie.

Yap notes: I feel better at this point. Morning was rough but I think I'm okay. I just had to accept that it's not my fault that I didn't catch the signs and that I'll pick myself back up. I've drank about 2000ml of water which is impressive. But I need some salt cause I was giving myself a headache by accident. I hope nothing from this day affected my work.

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #kung lao x you #kung lao x reader #mk1 kung lao #kung lao mk1 #mk kung lao #kung lao mortal kombat #mortal kombat kung lao #kung lao #bunny reader

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spencerreidsbookfairy · 1 day

Text

i have no one to blame but you

YALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL this was so hard write im sorry if it sucks but another question.....concert scene??? just a thought

I'm at peace. I am. At. peace.

So why do I wanna see him?

My fans loved the tracks and that makes me happy but i'm not actually happy i'm slightly content at most

Nope. y/n go to bed

Meanwhile at the bau…..

Garcia swears she could pass out after seeing y/n released 3 song tracks

She the grabs her laptop and struts her pink glittery high heels across the bureau in a panic

Derek sees her power walking to the empty round table he knew it was a calm day with no cases and in fact they were just about to leave and head home

‘’Whoa baby girl slow down what with the rush to the round table is there an emergency case?’’

She immediately spills the beans no longer able to keep it in but she says it in a hushed whisper because spencer is right across from them by the coffee pot

“ No! y/n just uploaded music again after a month and i wouldnt be surprised if she wrote nasty lyrics about boy genius!!!!’’

Derek is taken aback

“Relax penelope i'll go listen with you im sure its nothing”

Garica nods

As theyre both going to y/ns page to see for themselves incomes jj and emily

Garcia sighs and says ‘’ good, sit down both of you”

Garica explains the situation all over again

They finally begin listening to the first track snow angel

I met a boy

He broke my heart

I blame him 'cause

It's easier

They finish snow angel, speechless

“Oh my god its definitely about him what are we gonna do if spencer hears this on the radio or somethin-”

“ deep breathes garcia” emily adds

Second track lost cause

Thought you had your shit together, but damn, I was wrong

You ain't nothin' but a lost cause

‘’ but spencer does have his shit together! Maybe not to her but thats so-” derek tries to say

“ he doesn’t deserve this we practically forced him to not like her” jj interupts

Track three happier than ever

You call me again, drunk in your Benz

Driving home under the influence

You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath

'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends

I don't relate to you

I don't relate to you, no

'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty

You made me hate this city

And I don't talk shit about you on the internet

Never told anyone anything bad

'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything

And all that you did was make me fucking sad

So don't waste the time I don't have

And don't try to make me feel bad

I could talk about every time that you showed up on time

But I'd have an empty line 'cause you never did

Never paid any mind to my mother or friends

So I shut 'em all out for you 'cause I

was a kid

You ruined everything good

Always said you were misunderstood

Made all my moments your own

Just fucking leave me alone

‘’ spencer cannot listen to this” garcia decides

“Listen to what?”

Everyone at the table freezes in their seat

“ not you spencer, another spencer” garcia quickly says

Everyone else at the table mentally face palms

‘’Right….let me listen to whatever you're hiding, thanks.’’

‘’ why are you guys listening to y/ns music?”

Spencer listens to all the tracks with his face in his hands the whole time

‘’ this is all your guys fault!”

“ we know”

“ i have to go see her”

Meanwhile at y/ns home

Three knocks at first.

Then six

The a multitude obsessive amount of knocks at my door.

‘’ spencer. I swear to fuck i will call the authorities”

“ i am the authorities, please open up”

I walk to the door

Why am i walking to the door.

Why am i turning the knob

Why did i let him in.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds incorrect quotes #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x famous!reader #spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid angst

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proudofmyanger · 1 day

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Beware: a pessimistic rant with lots of speculations

Imo the decision to write Alicent and Criston having sex during b&c is really bad. I think it's a very unnecessary change, and I don't see how it fits the narrative. And it's so obvious what the writers' intentions are. They are not interested in exploring these characters and their relationship. They just want to shift the focus away from blood and cheese and make the greens look bad. Of course, in no way Alicent and Criston having sex makes them guilty of the tragedy that is b&c. But it seems that the show is taking the focus away from team black's fault to blame the greens. I don't believe that the showrunners don't know what they are doing.

In the books, Alicent was right there when it happened. She was the witness of team black's cruelty. She saw how they tormented her sweet daughter and her grandchildren, how they killed her grandson. Murderers making Alicent witness everything contributed to how vile b&c was, how unnecessary cruel. It gave Alicent even more motivation to fight her family's enemies and seek revenge. But now, thanks to hotd's bullshit she's going to blame herself more than anyone else. Wonderful. Why make her absent during b&c and add this new plotline about her feeling guilty because of it? Because god forbid Alicent starts being angry and hating her enemies again, right? They just have to make Alicent conflicted about her every action. They can't allow her to have confidence again. She has to always blame herself. They just have to make Alicent and Criston continue feeling bad about themselves.

There's also this picture:

Are they making it so that Aegon doesn't notice the murderer right under his nose?

So what do we get? Aegon doesn't notice Blood, probably because he's lightheaded or drunk. Alicent and Criston are absent having sex. And I'm not going to be surprised if they make Aemond go to the brothel during b&c, too. It feels like a joke.

B&C is supposed to show the cruelty team black is capable of. But instead of focusing on that, they're going to make all the greens look incompetent and feel guilty. And knowing this show they might even frame it as if the greens are at fault for what happened too. Tbh it's disgusting. The only people who are guilty are the ones who ordered, orchestrated and executed this bloody spectacle. But they are probably gonna not just make Daemon the only one behind it, but make the whole thing an accident. We already have leaks saying that Rhaenyra and Daemon just wanted to kill Aemond. It's going to be so bad.

House of the dragon? No, house of the accidents. House of the cringe and bad writing.

#hotd critical #anti hotd #team green #anti team black #pro team green #alicent hightower #criston cole #aegon ii targaryen

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trippinsorrows · 1 day

Text

with me + part eleven

authors note: hi! i'm super sorry for the cliffhanger! i just have this thing where i need sections to be cohesive, and this chapter is much heavier than the previous, so i didn't wanna boggle ya'll down with all that angst!

i've also been thinking about the length of this story. currently, in terms of story timeline, we're at the very end of december 23', and i have ideas for up to may 24'. well, beyond that, but i don't want things to get stale, so i can end it around that time or keep it going? just curious because i don't want it to play out so long that it bores anyone. if that makes sense. just lmk.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angsttttt (parental neglect, abandonment, trauma) language, alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, some fluff

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 6.2k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You knew as soon as he walked in that something was up.

In getting to know Joe, you’d also learned that he was, surprisingly, on the quiet side. He spoke with you, of course, but you learned he leaned more towards introverted than extroverted. It was kind of sweet and pretty surprising. But, you’d also learned there was a difference between him being his sometimes quiet self and when something was off, and something was definitely off.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to fuck it out of you?” He rolls his eyes, not even showing any excitement at the idea of fucking you. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. “Seriously, what’s up?”

He shrugs, playing it off clearly. “Just tired. Back to back matches.”

That's when you realize what it is. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, dismissively, and you cross your arms. “Take your shirt off.”

“What?”

“Take it off, or I’ll climb your big ass and take it off myself.” Joe blows out a breath. He has to know you’re dead serious. So, wordlessly, he lifts his shirt over his head and turns around.

You gasp almost immediately. “What the actual fuck?” Your hand reaches to touch him, but you stop yourself, knowing that his skin must be sensitive to the touch. His back is inflamed, red welts spread in different areas with a nasty bruise that looks like a borderline hematoma and other various cuts.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Shaking your head, you point to your room. “Go sit and wait for me on the bed.” He opens his mouth, and you lift a finger. “I don’t want to hear it. Get in there now.”

Surprisingly, he follows suit, and you start to move about, gathering the necessary supplies. Along the way, you experience a plethora of emotions but mostly bounce back and forth between irritation and concern.

You’re irritated that he didn’t just come out and say that he was hurt. You’re also concerned because he’s obviously in pain, and that bothers you. He doesn’t have to be, he didn’t have to be if he just said something.

Stubborn asshole.

With everything needed and placed in a cloth bag, you walk into your room and stretch your hand out to him. “Take this.”

Joe looks down at your open palm with a single pink pill. “What the hell is it?”

“Coke,” you answer with a straight face. Rolling your eyes, you answer, “Benadryl. It’ll help with the inflammation of the welts.”

“It’ll also knock me out.”

“We’ll we’re obviously not fucking with your back all messed up, so what else are you going to do?”

“Who said we can’t fuck?”

You sigh. “Joe, if you don’t just take this goddamn pill. With your size, you probably should take two, but I’m trying to be nice by only giving you one, so accept my kindness and swallow this damn pill or I’ll shove it down your throat.”

He sucks his teeth but also takes the pill from you followed by the water bottle tucked under your arm. “You’re a terrible nurse.”

“And you’re an awful patient. At least we’re both on the same page.” You wait for him to swallow it before taking the bottle from him. “Good, now lay on your stomach.”

He lifts his brow, asking, “why?”

“Oh my god, you’re as bad as my students.” Men when they’re sick or not feeling well are a special kind of torture you’re not sure why exactly you’re subjecting yourself to right now. “Just do it, please. I’m trying to help you here.”

He just looks at you, as if he has something else to say, probably so. But, he surprises you by staying silent and following your instructions.

Pleased, you climb on top of him, sitting on his ass to avoid irritating his already sensitive skin. “Okay, now this may hurt a little bit at first—”

He makes a sound underneath you. “Can’t hurt anymore than it already does.”

“If you had said something sooner, I could have helped you before now,” you scold, dropping the bag on the bed beside ya’ll. Men and their tendency to downplay pain will never cease to amaze you. The minute you start getting hit with cramps, you pop an ibuprofen.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“You’re in pain. That’s always a big deal.” Pulling out the ointment, you dab enough to your hand and start carefully massaging it into the welts. He hisses at your touch and you murmur an apology but don’t stop. It’s short term discomfort for long term benefits.

“What is this?” He asks.

“Calamine lotion,” you answer, adding on. “I have hydrocortisone too, but my grandma always said calamine works just as well without getting into your bloodstream. Don’t know how true it is, but it always worked for me, so it’ll work for you.”

He chuckles. “She sounded fun.”

Instantly, a smile is on your face as you continue to treat him. “Always. Summers with her were always the highlight of my year.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, and you continue to work the lotion into his skin. Once pleased with the application, you move on to the next part. “Alright, I’m gonna apply some cold compresses. You’ll probably be out in another 20 minutes, so just leave em’ on, and I’ll come change em’ out while you’re sleeping.”

When he doesn’t push back, you pull the compresses out of your bag and strategically place them on different areas of his back to maximize the comfort. Once finished, you climb off of him and go to close up the blinds and curtains. “Alright, get some rest.”

You’re at the doorway when he says your name. “Yeah?”

A slight delay before he says, genuinely, “thank you.”

There’s something meaningful beyond just the obvious, and it brings a small smile to your face. Not that he can see that. So you settle on, “of course. You’re no good to me if you can’t fuck me.”

He laughs, loudly. “Shut up.”

Smile widening, you close the door. ________

Joe finds you a couple hours later in the kitchen, but it’s the state of you that gives him a pause and brings a smile to his face.

You’re dancing around, clad in one of his shirts and short shorts that your ass swallows up. Brief glimpses of your side profile reveal that you’re singing too, just in a low enough voice, probably not to disturb you.

He doesn’t know the specific song, but the voice is familiar enough for him to know it’s Taylor Swift. That definitely surprises him, though it shouldn’t. You have a weird ass taste in music to where he’s found you in the shower listening to some random rock song, other times, it was throwback R&B.

You were just so….different from anyone he’s ever known.

It’s one of the many reasons he’s so enamored with you.

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

'Cause I see sparks fly, whenever you smile

It’s when you turn around, mid bite on a cookie that you finally notice his presence, smiling. “Hey. You’re up.”

“I am.” He nods, walking over to you. He gestures around the kitchen. “What is all this?”

You finish chewing and swallow before directing Alexa to pause the music. “Well, I finished my lesson planning and was bored, so I decided to bake. But then I got hungry for actual food, so I ordered takeout.”

“And the music?”

You shrug, taking another bite of your cookie. “I like the song. Don’t worry, it’s the only Taylor Swift song allowed in this African American household.”

He laughs and moves past you when you take the chance to assess his back, immediately noticing how the swelling and redness have decreased. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” he answers, moving to the cartons, seeing that you made sure to order his favorites as well. “Thanks again.”

Smirking, you climb on the island, locking your ankles together. “Not so terrible nurse after all then, huh?”

“Your bedside manners still suck.”

“Shut up.” You watch him fix his food and when he gets ready to sit down on a bar stool, you hop off the counter, prompting, “come with me.”

“Where?”

“All these damn questions….” Grabbing a couple of cookies and placing them in a bowl, you find your sandals and slide them on your feet. “Just come on.”

“Let me at least put a shirt on.”

“Absolutely not. You need to let your skin breathe,” you lecture, taking him in, all of him. “Trust me, no one’s gonna see us, and even if they did, who the hell would complain about you being shirtless?”

Snatching the keys off the table, you open the door, allowing him to walk out first. You start to leave your door unlocked but decide against it. It’s an extremely safe town, but there’s always a first time for everything.

Locking it, you motion for him to follow you up the two sets of steps until reaching the heavy door that you turn the knob left and then right in order to open it. Joe’s immediately hit with a nice breeze and diminishing sunlight as the evening sets in.

“Come on,” you usher him to follow you to your favorite spot, sitting down and patting down on the ground next to you.

Joe chuckles, following suit. “Seriously?”

You ignore him, pushing on his shoulder as he brings his plate in front of him to eat. “I like to come out here sometimes to just get away. Especially if I need to clear my head. My grandma used to always say the closer you are to Heaven, the clearer you can hear God’s voice.”

He just watches you, the way the wind blows at your curls, making them splash at your face. Everything about you has always been stunning to him, but in this moment where you sit so relaxed and unbothered, he’s never thought you looked more beautiful.

“Plus, you obviously need to clear your head to bounce back from that ass whooping,” you snort, taking another bite of your cookie. One look at Joe’s scowl makes you giggle. “On one hand, it’s crazy to me you put your body through so much, but I also recognize your passion and dedication. So, I get it. I was an athlete too. Love of the game type shit.”

You can’t say that you would have ever continued to cheer if it left you the way Joe would come to you sometimes, but as someone who’s been in a similar situation, you understand it. And it’s so much more than just a job to him. It’s a legacy, in his bloodline. All he knows.

All he wants.

So, you support him.

You’ll always support him.

________

There’s the initial chaos that ensues in the minutes after your departure. Callie’s confusion. Joe’s confusion. Bianca’s utter confusion. And as Callie is right there, Joe can’t go immediately after you. He can’t and won’t leave her, so he does the best he can, offering apologies to Bianca and Co. before taking Callie and finding your mom who was catching up with an old friend in another part of the show.

He has some level of difficulty explaining what happened, other than the fact that you’d run off and he needed to find you. It’s really all of the information that he has to go off of, and when he’s finally able to get back to the apartment where he thinks you probably went. He's disappointed to find it empty. There’s brief moment of panic.

Just where the hell would you go?

He pulls out his phone to check again if you’ll pick up, but it goes straight to voicemail. He then starts to call your mom to ask her if she had any idea where you would be when he thinks about what happened. You were upset, very much so.

You needed to clear your head.

He knows exactly where you are.

On that same roof he sat on with you years prior is where Joe finds you, but what he doesn’t expect is the bottle of Hennessy that’s not only open but already halfway empty and sitting beside you.

He doesn’t try to hide his presence and is unsurprised when you ask, “How’d you find me?”

“Wasn’t that hard,” he answers. It wasn’t. He remembers almost everything you’ve ever told him about yourself, including how this spot has always been your place to escape.

Just what were you escaping from is what has him stumped.

“Sit down.” You pat the space beside you much harder than what’s necessary. He sighs and asks for a minute, pulling out the phone and stepping away to make a call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Did you find her?”

“Yeah,” Joe runs his hand over his face. “I got her, but….can you take Callie back to your place?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

He looks over again at the bottle. “She’s drunk.”

“Drunk?” It sounds like she’s holding back a chuckle, like his words are humorous because everyone knows you don’t drink, and she says as such. “What do you mean she’s drunk? My child doesn’t even drink.”

“She did tonight” Joe’s eyes fall back over to you to see you still sitting, swaying slightly as if listening to music. There is no music. “And Callie doesn’t need to see her like this.” He especially knows you wouldn’t want her to see you like this.

Your mom sighs, heavily, on the other end. “You’ll stay with her, right?”

“Of course.” That’s not even a question. “And once I get her settled, if Callie is still up—”

“Oh, she’ll be up. She can’t fall asleep unless she talks to you or her mama.” It feels like an inappropriate response, but there’s a small part of Joe that finds joy in this. He remembers when you mentioned to him before that Callie needed to see and/or speak to you before she could fall asleep, a sign of how closely bonded you two were. To be added to that category means everything to him. “Thank you, Joseph.”

He sees no need in being thanked but acknowledges your mom’s appreciation anyway. “Of course.” The call ends, and he brings his focus back to you. The first thing he does is take away the bottle of Henny.

You see this and instantly scowl. “You’re no fun.”

He sits next to you, asking in a quiet voice, “what happened tonight, Y/N?” Joe is still utterly confused at all of this, your zero to one hundred change in demeanor. But, the fact that you resulted to drinking shows him just how heavy whatever it was has impacted you. “Talk to me.”

You laugh, but there isn’t an ounce of humor. “God, where do I start?” Your eyes light up, as if realizing something. “Oooh. I know where.” You lean into his shoulder, whispering, “I’m the product of an affair.”

This piece of information definitely takes him by surprise.

He's noticed you've never talked about your father, and he's never asked. Obviously, it was a sensitive topic, that much he could garner. But now, he knows just why it was sensitive.

“I don't—I don't know exactly what happened between them. She’s never really talked about it, but I do remember when I was younger, maybe—maybe a couple years older than Callie, he was—he was at the house.” You swallow, and Joe can see the distance in your eyes, like you’re no longer sitting here beside him. But someplace else. “She told me to go to my room, but I snooped at the top of the steps. Don’t….don’t really remember everything that was said except that she was literally begging this man to have some type of relationship with me, and he refused.” You laugh suddenly, and it’s so out of place, doesn't make sense given the nature of the conversation. But it does if he factors in the liquor coursing through your system. “He called me a m–mistake.”

Joe's heart aches at your words. “Baby—”

“When I was sixteen years old, I worked at a clothing store in town, and I saved up my money for this necklace…it was gold, and I thought—I thought it was so pretty. It made me feel fancy.” You chuckle, not as humorous this time, head tilting. “And once I finally got the necklace, I drove—I drove an hour away because…because after all those years, I still….I wanted to meet my father. I wanted…I wanted him to be in my life.”

“He’s uh—or was, I’m not sure anymore—captain of police in his town, so I went to the precinct to meet him, wearing that necklace that I worked months to save up for because…because I wanted to look nice. I remember walking into his office, and I was nervous, but—but I also figured there was no way he could reject me then. I—I was head cheerleader. A straight A student. I—I had just gotten a near perfect score on both my SAT and ACT. I was…I was a good kid, Joe.”

Your jaw fixes, and he can see you’re trying to hold back tears. It kills him to see you this upset. He’s never seen you this vulnerable. “And I—I told him all that. I told him I wanted to see if he wanted a relationship with me, and do you know what he told me?” You suddenly stand up, clearly intending to mimic this interaction. “A relationship? Why would I want a relationship with you? You’re not even supposed to exist.”

You giggle, eyes watering. Joe frowns. He can’t even begin to fathom how someone can say something like that to their own flesh and blood.

“Oh, but that’s not even the best part.” You’re doing one hell of a job playing this all off as something that isn’t impacting you, no doubt thanks to the alcohol. But, he knows you well enough to know and even see where this is headed. “He—” you hiccup, covering your mouth to hide your giggles. “He said again that I was a mistake that he paid my mom to take care of and—” It’s starting to crack, the alcohol induced facade that all of this is fine, that you don’t care. Your voice starts to catch. “---that the money he gave her for an abortion was the biggest waste of money he ever spent.”

“Y/N—”

“Minutes later, his wife walked in and then—and then his daughter walked in, and I—I ran. I couldn’t….I couldn’t—we looked the same age, Joe. He had a daughter already, he–he didn’t need me. He didn't—he didn’t want me.” You sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “And that’s fine, I—I didn’t care. I—I blocked that out after that day. I’d—I’d forgotten about him.” A beat. “Until tonight.”

“Because—because for the first time since I was sixteen years old, I was in front of all of them again. My—my—father, his wife, my—-”

Joe starts putting the pieces together. “Bianca….”

“She’s my sister,” you answer for him, having a hard time keeping it all in at this point. “She’s the one he’s proud of. She’s the one whose kid he claims as his grandchild. She’s the one he acknowledges. I’m just—I’m just the mistake he wishes was never born.”

Joe stands up, gradually moving toward you.

“I did everything right. I stayed out of trouble. I went to school. I got my degree. I did—-” He’s in front of you, gently pulling you into him as you finally break. “I don’t understand why he didn’t want me. I’m his daughter.” you finally shatter, crying into his chest. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey, hey—” Joe brings his hands to your face, making you look at him. “There is nothing wrong with you. You are an amazing, intelligent, beautiful woman, and I can’t even begin to describe how amazing of a mother you are.” He wipes away your tears as you clutch onto his shirt. “He doesn’t deserve you, baby. He doesn’t deserve to be in your life. He never did, and he never will. Fuck him. You don’t need shit from him. I’ve got you, okay? Always.” You allow him to hold you, to comfort you, because it’s just what you need in this moment. You tried to find it in solitude, tried to find it at the bottom of a liquor bottle, but it was all in vain. You just needed him.

Joe holds you as long as you allow him, letting you cry it out until he's eventually able to guide you into returning to your apartment.

But outside the door is when you hesitate.

He notices this, immediately asking, “what’s wrong?”

Your eyes start watering again. “Callie…I—I don’t want her to—”

He shakes his head, kissing the top of your head. “I asked your mom to take her back to her place. I’ll go check on her after I get you straight.”

This seems to settle some of your anxiety, and he continues to guide you into your bedroom. He helps you out of your clothes and into a simple t-shirt that he recognizes as one of his own.

Joe moves all of your decorative pillows, placing them on the chair in the corner of your room as you pull back the blankets. He turns around to find you reaching for his hand, tugging him towards the bed. “Just—just until I fall asleep.”

He doesn’t object. Joe planned to stay with you until then anyway.

He undresses enough to climb into bed with you, and you waste no time burying yourself into his chest, feeling an instant sense of peace when he wraps his strong arms around you. You’ve always felt so safe and protected in his embrace, and in this moment, it’s everything you need.

“I realized something tonight,” you mumble into his skin. Joe’s hand is under your shirt, hand moving soothing circles on the small of your back. “I—I didn’t keep Callie from you because of your wife. That was part of the reason, but it wasn’t the main reason.” You lift your head, throat feeling pressured as you allow yourself to finally admit, “the truth is that I was terrified you would reject her the way my dad rejected me, and I never wanted her to feel that way. And I know now that you would never do that to her, but I—I didn’t know then, and I was so wrong, and I’m so sorry. I—”

“Hey—” He cuts you off, hand going to palm your cheek. “Don’t do that. I understand why you did it now, I do. You were trying to protect her. I can’t be upset with you for that. I’m not.” He studies your face, your eyes, always so beautiful to him. “I don’t think I could ever be mad at you for too long.”

It’s not a lie. Joe’s always thought he’s known you like the back of his hand, learned you so well, but tonight has shown him that he didn’t know everything. He’ll never get back the time he missed out on with Callie, and maybe on some level there will always be a slither of resentment. But, it’s not enough for him to notice and most definitely not enough for him to actually feel.

He’s not quite sure how he could find it in him to hold your decision against you. It didn’t come from a place of selfishness or vindictiveness but love and protectiveness. You just wanted to keep her from experiencing the pain and trauma you’d endured.

There was no faulting that.

And you accept his grace, so understanding and considerate. You feel slightly undeserving but immensely grateful that he can extend such empathy.

You’re quiet after that, eyes shut as you work to turn off your brain and decompress what’s inarguably been one of the most difficult days of your life. You’re almost in the early stages of sleep when his voice invades the quietness.

“I love you.” Joe doesn’t feel any sort of movement at his confession, doesn’t feel you tense or relax. He’s not even sure if you’re still awake, but still, he continues. “I’ve always loved you, and I don’t even know how much of this you’ll remember tomorrow, but that doesn’t matter because I’ve always imagined telling you under much different circumstances anyway.”

“I want to be with you,” he continues. “I’ve always wanted to be with you, and I’m sorry for not putting you first. You deserved better than that. I should have gotten divorced long before I even met you. And that’s….something we eventually need to talk about. I owe you that much.”

He wants to say more, so much more, but he also knows now is not the time given he’s almost certain you’re asleep. Hence why he finally slips out of bed, knowing he needs to check on Callie.

He doesn’t leave without caressing your cheek and kissing your temple, relieved that you’re finally getting some rest following what was inexplicably an emotionally draining day.

But you’re not asleep, and you did hear it.

You heard it all.

________

“Who are you?”

Joe walked into your moms house, not expecting anyone other than your mom and Callie. Only one of those individuals are present, and the other is a man he’s never in his life seen before but automatically doesn’t like. Just his aura seems off.

Joe especially hates that this man is in the same house as his little girl.

Your mom seems taken back by this side of him and explains, “Joe, this is Amir. He’s, uhh, an old friend of Y/N. He saw her run off and wanted to check in on her.”

The day's events are definitely a contributing factor as Joe feels exhausted, both mentally and physically, but hearing that this is the infamous Amir instantly angers him. What the hell is he doing here?

“You bold as hell coming here.” is all Joe says, redirecting his attention to your mom. “Y/N tell you that she found out he and Mariah been sleeping with each other?”

What he wants to say is that they’ve been fucking, but he wants to remain respectful. Even if it is hard as hell.

Your mom is looking, mouth ajar, between Joe and Amir. “Wh–what is he talking about, Amir?”

“So you’re the one that’s been feeding those lies into her.” Deflection. It’s a typical bitch move. “You talking a lot of shit for someone who abandoned his own kid and just came back on the scene like ain't nothing happened.”

If not for the fact that you’ve already explained to Joe that you’d never told Amir what really happened between you and him because it was none of his business, Joe would have been livid. He would never abandon you. And definitely never Callie. Ever.

He’d have been with you every fucking step of the way the minute you found out you were pregnant if he’d been given the chance.

But all of that is no business of this asshole’s.

“You can say or think whatever the hell you want about me. It doesn’t matter. You’re irrelevant, regardless, so the same way you walked your ass in here is the same way you can walk your ass right on out.”

“Apparently not to Y/N.” He’s smug, and it takes a tremendous amount of willpower for Joe to not lay this man out right then and there. He doesn’t know why you would ever settle for the likes of this prick. “Not with how many times she ended up in my bed.”

Joe partially forgot your mom was even in the same vicinity until she gasps loudly, clearly disgusted, “my Lord. Please, this is my daughter you’re speaking about.”

With a low chuckle, Joe tries his best to remain respectful yet still abundantly clear. “And how many times has she reached out to you since I’ve been back?” His silence is all the answer Joe needs, not that he really needs one at all. Joe knows you have eyes and desire for him and him alone. He just needs to prove a point to this motherfucker. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to stay the fuck away from my girlfriend and especially my daughter, cause the next time it won’t be no conversation.”

And before Amir can say or even, stupidly, do anything, a new smaller voice enters the scene.

“Daddy!”

Joe is unsure if he’ll ever get over the joy that fills him at being called that. Callie is at the top of the steps but proceeds to rush down when she sees him, Joe leaning down and catching her, picking her up.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He kisses her cheek, noticing almost immediately how tired she looks. Understandable, as it’s almost 11 o’ clock, far past her bedtime. Uncomfortable with this Amari or whatever the fuck his name is being so close to Callie, Joe starts leading her back up the stairs.

With a frown, she asks the question he was expecting. “Where’s mommy?”

“She’s back at the apartment sleeping.” Joe is unsure just how to explain tonight’s events to Callie, not really knowing how to help her understand what occurred, if at all possible. “I’ll take you to see her tomorrow morning as soon as she wakes up.”

Joe walks her into her room at your mom’s place and seats her on the bed, sitting next to her. “What’s wrong with her?”

Such a simple question in wording and massively difficult in every other area, especially when one considers Callie’s young age.

“Mommy saw someone who was very mean to her when she was little, and it made her sad, so….she just wanted to be alone.” It’s the best, simplest answer that’s not a lie he can come up with on the spot.

Callie’s frown deepens. “I don’t want mommy to be sad.”

“Neither do I, baby,” he murmurs. “But, I talked with her, and she should start feeling better soon, okay?”

Her frown diminishes slightly, and Joe can tell she’s in thought. She then asks, “are you gonna go stay with mommy tonight?”

“I was, but I can stay with you, if you want me to.” Joe knows you’ll probably sleep throughout the night because of the alcohol and more importantly, if Callie needs him, he’s there. No questions asked.

You would do the same.

She suddenly shakes her head. “Mommy stays with me when I’m sad, so someone’s gotta stay with her while she’s sad.” Her face grows sullen again as she asks with a yawn, “do you still have to leave tomorrow morning?”

“No, I leave tomorrow night instead.”

In the midst of all of tonight’s chaos, he’d managed to switch flights, picking an evening one instead. Joe let Hunter know there was a family emergency, and that he’d be back later than initially expected. Hunter was understanding, and while he was grateful for that, it didn’t really make a difference.

You and Callie come first.

She’s obviously partially pleased with this information and moves her body against his, laying her head on his arm. “I’m sleepy….”

Reaching to caress her cheek with his finger, he directs, “get some rest, Callie. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

She doesn’t say anything, just closes her eyes. It doesn’t take long for sleep to overtake her, a mere matter of minutes really. He stays with her longer though, just to be sure, needing to know she’s okay.

He needs both of yall to be okay.

________

You wake up with an instant sense of unease and discomfort. Your head is throbbing, and your body feels heavy. Your chest feels pressured, like there’s some invisible weight on it.

But in a matter of seconds, it all comes rushing back to you. The fireworks. Bianca. Seeing your dad. Running. Drinking.

"I love you."

Eyes shutting, you do your best to settle your brain because only one thing is at the front of your mind when you hear giggling coming from outside of your closed door.

Callie

Just how in the hell did your brief mental breakdown affect your child?

Pushing the blankets off, it’s then you notice the bottle of water and white pill sitting on your nightstand. Picking it up, you see it’s Advil.

“Joe…..” you whisper, realizing he must have left it here waiting for you once you woke up. Eyes watering at his thoughtfulness, you swallow it and head straight for the bathroom. You need to get cleaned up and get out there to see what kind of damage you’ve unintentionally inflicted on your child’s psyche.

You know how attached she is to you and don’t even allow yourself to think about how difficult it must have been to be so abruptly ripped away.

Especially when you’re the one who did the ripping.

The shower is kept to a minimum, and once your teeth are brushed and face clean, you don’t hesitate to step out of the room. Following the path of sound, in the kitchen is where you find Callie. With Joe.

They’re sharing a quiet laugh, and you’re certain it’s quiet because he told her you needed your rest. Always looking out for you.

However, it’s when Callie happens to glance your way that her eyes go big.

“Mommy!”

She surprisingly climbs off the counter instead of outright jumping and runs over to you. You kneel down to meet her for her hug, so tight and welcoming. “Do you feel better?”

“Oh baby, I’m always better when I get to see you.” Kissing her forehead, you add, gently, “mommy’s sorry for scaring you.” And it's true. You never meant to scare her or make her worry about you, and it's something you'll work as hard as necessary to make up to her.

But your sweet child surprises you with her authentic, mature reassurances. “It’s okay. Daddy said you were sad,” she explains and gasps. “I made you something to make you smile!”

Touched, you palm her cheek. She really is the light of your life. “I’d love to see it, baby.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back.” She rushes out of the kitchen, and you take the opportunity to talk to Joe. Wordlessly, you move over to hug him.

“Thank you.” There’s not enough thank yous to show him just how appreciative you are to have him in your life, to have him as Callie’s father. He took such control yesterday while you were busy drowning in your daddy issues. And now he’s still here when you’re almost certain that he was supposed to have flown out at the crack of dawn. “I’m really sorry about last night. That’s not—-I don’t get drunk. I would never leave Callie like that—“

“I don’t care about any of that,” he dismisses. You believe him, as he looks entirely uninterested in any explanation you want to provide him because he sees it as unnecessary. He takes the back of hand to feel your forehead. “How are you feeling? Did you take the Advil?”

Nodding, you try again, “seriously, Joe. You’ve changed your whole schedule around—“

“You needed me,” he answers. “There was nothing to think about.”

And the tears are brewing again, but for very different reasons. This man is everything you’ve always wanted and dreamed of, even better. And he loves you. He wants to be with you. Your daughter's father wants to establish a life with you, be a family. What logical reason do you have to continue to deny him? Deny yourself?

“Joe…..” Licking your lips, you place your hands on his chest. “I lo—”

“Here it is, mommy!”

Callie’s interruption is both perfect and imperfect timing. You want so badly to tell him that you love him too, that you also want to be with him. But maybe it’s not the best timing, maybe the setting should be different.

You want him to know you love him not just because of the aftershocks of vulnerability. That you’re in love with him and have been since you were 23 years old.

Callie is at your legs, holding up a drawing she created of you surrounded by hearts. Her artwork has always been her favorite form of expression, and you’re so grateful for her pure, kind heart in this moment.

Holding it against your chest, you lean down to accept her hug. “Thank you so much, baby. I love it.”

“Yay!” She rejoices and then looks up between the two of you. “Daddy and I made you breakfast!”

Gasping, you ask, “really?” It’s only then you notice the kitchen, while cleaner than one would expect after preparing breakfast with a four-year-old, you see the counters that have food laid out on a variety of plates and tupperware. “Waffles?”

“Your favorite.” Joe reaches to kiss your temple, and lightly pats your hip. “Sit down, we’ll fix it for you.”

You open your mouth to protest when Callie takes your hand and guides you to the barstools and scampers back over to Joe who picks her up, holding her with one arm while the other fixes your breakfast for you. He allows her to point and dictate what goes on your plate and how it’s fixed.

And you sit there, allowing yourself to take in this moment. There’s so much you need to navigate and sort through. Bianca, your dad, Mariah, hell, even finally being honest with Joe about your feelings. But, all of that can wait.

Because all that matters right now are the two people you love most in this world.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook #black writers

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 1 day

Text

Recently, through Twitter, I have become aware of the fact that modern American parents have been very ignorant of their parental duties when it comes to their children. Parents are banding together to complain about the schools their children attend because their kids are getting bad grades in class, or they're getting detentions for doing bad consistently, or they're being held back because they're just not at the same level as their peers.

There was an entire thread of some woman whining about how the school was failing her kid, because his English class grade was so bad. There were thousands of comments agreeing and various reposts with anecdotes from other parents with similar experiences.

"My 26 y/o son can't even write a check for God's sake!"

And one single person finally replied with, "Do you guys not teach your kids anything at home before they start going to school?" Which then spawned people with actual common sense questioning the level of involvement these people had in the lives of their kids.

This is what led to a large surge of people complaining about how it's the school's job to teach them everything and they did their job just keeping them alive.

Now, I don't want to be mean, but it's gonna come across that way.

Parents are lazy these days.

When I was a child, my Nana and mom had me learning with Hooked on Phonics before I entered pre-K. I was 3 years old and already sounding out words that rhymed. I was practicing how quickly I could say them in under 30 seconds so I could progress to the next lesson.

mat hat sat that cat vat pat bat fat lat rat brat

etc...

When I was in pre-K(4 years old), they had a single, really old computer that had a bunch of Winnie the Pooh CD-ROM games. Because I always got my work done faster than everybody else, they let me use the computer because I could actually read and follow Pooh's instructions, and it kept me busy.

And when I entered kindergarten for the first time, I was really surprised to see that Hooked on Phonics was actually part of my curriculum and I was already very well ahead of everyone else. My mom and Nana took traching me very seriously. They not only read to me, but they would also get me Madeline books and cassette tapes from the children's library downtown. And then I would listen to the cassettes telling the story while reading the book at the same time to get used to the words.

At three years old, I was helping out in the kitchen, learning all of the different kitchen utensils and types of measurement. My mom often went between English, French and American Sign Language at random times so I picked up a lot of stuff that way. We never had a computer in the house for the first 12 years of my life, but I did have an old keyboard to learn how to type. Nana gave me basic piano lessons for a couple years. Mom taught me how to hem my clothes because she would buy me bigger clothes, hem them to size, and then let them out as I grew. Hell, Sperm Donor taught me how to write a check when I was 8. He was also a Financial Adviser, so I got a lot of lessons on money management, investments, and 401Ks and shit.

All these incredibly simple things ended up benefiting me later on, because I was so far ahead of all of the other students that it consistently put me at odds with them. I was better at reading, cooking, sewing, music, languages, etc... I was allowed time to do whatever I wanted while the rest of them had to catch up.

There is a lot more to being a parent than just making sure your kid eats three meals a day and doesn't die in a stupid way. And it seems like a lot of parents these days have completely forgotten that they have a duty to their kids beyond the feeding and clothing thing.

Certain things SHOULD be taught in schools, like how to balance a checkbook. But if it's clear that the school won't cover it, why aren't YOU doing something about that? And why do so many parents have no clue what the hell their kids are even getting up to in school? Why don't y'all get involved in your kid's lives?

#parenting #bad parenting

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player1064 · 2 days

Note

gary goes into business instead of broadcasting post-retirement. carra still goes into puditry. they don't know each other/end up as friends.

they both end up on the same season of I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and fall in love. this is highly apparent to the entire audience.

I've not done a request fic in like two months bc I've been so zoomed in on the beville fic but I wanted to write something quick and silly and yes this request has been sitting in my inbox for more than THREE months but dont worry i did not forget about it I haven't forgotten about ANY of u.

and this really is quick and silly it is Mostly dialogue bc idk how else to convey the Vibes of im a celebrity but I had soooooo much fun with this dkjfgdfjsgkk...

---

“I’m Gary Neville, I’m a businessman but I’m probably best known for my football career, playing 602 games for Manchester United and earning 85 caps for England.”

“What am I doing in the jungle? Mid-life crisis, I suppose.”

“I’m no stranger to public humiliation – just look at my coachin’ career! My only worry is the food – I do love a dairy milk, to be fair.”

“I’m Jamie Carragher, and I’m best known as a football pundit with Sky – am I allowed to say other broadcaster’s names on here? – and for winning the Champions’ league with Liverpool.”

“I’ve always said the jungle is the only reality show I’d consider doin’, so I guess it’s time to put me money where me mouth is.”

“Scared? Eh, no, I don’t think there’s many challenges I wouldn’t do. You don’t get to where I’ve got without that drive to win.”

Jamie walks into camp, takes one look at the group of people stood in front of him, and almost considers walking straight back out. Would that work, saying the catch-phrase outside of one of the challenges? ‘I’m a celebrity, get me away from Gary fucking Neville?’

“Jesus Christ,” Gary mutters. “Don’t you ‘ave some children to spit at or somethin’?”

“Don’t you ‘ave a football team to coach – oh no, sorry, they both fired you.”

“How the fuck are they lettin’ you take three weeks off in the middle of season? What’re people gonna do when they want to listen to two hours of Scouse gibberish?”

The rest of the campers watch on, no longer even attempting to come and introduce themselves to Jamie.

“And how’s your club gonna manage without yous, eh? What if they need someone to fire another manager?”

“Yeah, I uh… is it mean to say I hope one of them gets voted off soon? Don’t get me wrong, they’re both perfectly nice guys, but…”

[yelling heard from outside the hut]

“…Yeah.”

The first pairs challenge, shockingly, goes off without a hitch.

This is not a surprise because the challenge was particularly difficult – it’s early days, they’re still easing everyone in – but because of who the public had voted to complete it. Because the public is the public, and they’re nothing if not predictable.

“All twelve stars! I’m pretty pleased w’that, you know.”

“Typical fucking Neville, taking the credit for his partner’s hard work.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t seem to recall you crawling about in the mud to get the –”

“—I was the one doin’ all the heavy lifting!”

“Of course you were doin’ the heavy lifting, look at the fuckin’ size of you!”

“Ugh.”

Jamie storms off camera and back into camp, leaving behind a bewildered looking Gary.

“He’s a bit of a diva, in’t he?”

“The first few days? Erm, it’s been goin’ alright, I think. I’ve been told I’m not always the easiest person to get on with, so it’s a pleasant relief that the others seem to – I mean, obviously not all of the others, but – but he’s –”

“Oh, I’m loving camp. Missing the gym a bit –” for emphasis, Jamie slaps his bicep – “but the food’s not as bad as I were expectin’, and the banter is sound – we’re all great friends already –”

“—well, no, but you can’t count him. He’s so weird, ‘ave you seen him? Like a little robot, doin’ everything exactly the same every day.”

“Another pairs challenge…”

“I don’t get why people keep voting for us to do these trials. You’re useless at ‘em anyway, do they want to see us starve?”

“Maybe I’d be able to get more done if you didn’t always insist on bossing me around, James. Can barely hear myself think over that Scouse screech of yours, it’s a wonder me eardrums haven’t burst yet.”

“It’s a wonder nobody’s killed themselves in the boredom of having to listen to you drone on and on all day. Did I actually hear you talkin’ about the stock market the other day?”

“The stock exchange, oh my god. It’s my hotel, which you’d know if you took part in any conversation that’s not about you.”

“I can’t believe they let you have that.”

Jamie looks with pride down at the football he’d chosen as his luxury item, then drops it and kicks it towards Gary’s head. It’s wide by about a metre.

“Oi! If you were a half decent footballer that could’ve actually hurt me, you twat.”

“’least mine can benefit everyone in camp, what even is yours?”

“Fidget toy, innit. My niece got me into them, gives me something to do with my hands.”

“You’re a strange little man, you know that right?”

Gary, who’s still positioned closest to the football, picks it up and lobs it into the trees surrounding camp.

“Come have a kickabout with me?”

Gary looks around but there’s nobody else sat nearby. “Me?”

“No, Cristiano Ronaldo. Of course you, who else would I be askin’?”

“Literally anyone else here?”

“It’s not as fun when you’re better than everyone else –”

“—ah, so you admit I’m a better footballer than you!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“What are you actually doin’ in here? ‘cause no offence, Gary, but you don’t really seem the reality show type.”

“Dunno. Was having a rough week when the email came through, thought it might be nice to get away from everythin’ for a bit.”

“’and you, Jameh?’” Jamie says in a squeaky parody of a Manc accent. “Oh, thanks fer askin’, Gaz. I was worried I was goin’ soft, now that I’ve been retired for so long. Wanted to prove to myself I can still be a winner.”

“Still? When were you ever a winner before?”

“I’ve won a Champions’ League, I’ll have you know!”

“I’ve won two!”

“Have you fuck.”

“Who’s your letter from, then? Missus?”

“No, my brother,” Gary says absently, then he looks up from his letter with a frown. “I don’t have a missus, what’re you on about?”

“Don’t you? I could’ve sworn, in Baden Baden with the WAGs –”

“You’re basing your knowledge of my relationship status on a tournament we played in more than fifteen years ago?”

“You realise you’re literally wearing a wedding ring.”

“And you’re not. Any other observations you’d like to make? Sky is blue, maybe?”

“Normally people wear wedding rings to show they’re married.”

“Maybe some people wear them to avoid annoying questions. Anyway, Philip says that I’m coming across very well so far and that ITV has received hundreds of complaints from people who can’t understand your accent.”

“He did not fucking write that, give it here –”

“Am I getting along better with Jamie? I dunno, I never had a problem with him to be fair, it’s him that’s always –”

“Friends? With Gary? Behave. Have we managed to go a single day so far without him shoutin’ at me for somethin’ I did, or somethin’ I didn’t do right, or for – for breathing in the wrong direction. Christ, I’ve never met anyone this fussy. He’s too easy to wind up.”

“He must be doin’ it on purpose, surely nobody is that thick – I mean, is it so hard to stack a couple of dishes when you’ve finished washing them?”

“Well, no, yeah, he did stack them, but did you see – they were all out of order, there’s no stability – they’re certain to all fall and break in the night thanks to him.”

All the effort that goes into the Dingo Dollars task and all the camp has to show for it is a single square of chocolate each. Gary nibbles carefully at his, trying to preserve it for as long as possible.

Jamie gets up and goes to sit beside him.

“Here.”

“Wha?”

“Here, I don’t like sweets.”

“You don’t – what kind of a psychopath don’t like sweets?”

“Will you just take the bloody chocolate before I change my mind.”

“You’re limping. Why are you limping?”

“Done my ankle in the last trial.”

“Trust you to get injured doin’ a trial. What’d you do, you slip or somethin’?”

“Why don’t you ask your mate, he’s the expert on slipping.”

“Ha ha. But really, Gary – you alright?”

“I’m fine, Carra, ‘s not even strained. Just a bit achy. Twenty years as a professional athlete will do that to you.”

“Give it here.”

“You what?”

“Give it here, I do an okay massage. Maybe that’ll stop yer whining.”

“I literally didn’t say a word until you brought it up.”

“I don’t know, he’s – ugh, he’s…”

“He’s not what I expected. I dunno. He’s just not what I expected.”

“D’you know how many times me and Gary played a full ninety together with England? One. We only ever played one full match on the same side, and it was shite.”

“It always felt like there was only room for one of us, so I just – I fucking hated him. ‘cause it wasn’t me the managers were picking, was it?”

“Carra?” Gary whispers

“What.”

“Carra, I can’t sleep.”

“Don’t give a fuck.”

“Jamie.”

Jamie reluctantly sits up in his camp bed, squints at Gary in the dark. “What.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You already said that.”

“I want to go for a walk, clear my head.”

“Good for you.” Jamie lies back down and pulls his sleeping bag over his face.

“Jamie.”

“I swear to God, Gaz…”

“Yer not gonna make me go out there alone, are ya? It’s the middle of the night.”

“What are you, twelve? Fine, just give me a minute to find my shoes.”

“It’s very dark, isn’t it?”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

They hadn’t ended up walking very far, just to the log benches in the next clearing over before agreeing the risk of tripping over tree roots was too high and sitting down to just talk instead.

“My internal clock’s all thrown off, we’ve been here nearly two weeks and I still can’t get the hang of it. At home to be fair I’m normally in bed by ten, half ten.”

“I remember, from England. You and Phil were such geeks, weren’t you?”

“Most capped brothers in England, thank you very much.”

“D’you miss him?”

“Nah. Don’t get to see ‘im much anyway, to be fair. He’s off in America, Trace is out here, they’re both just – getting on with it, aren’t they? I prob’ly miss my house more’n anything else.”

“Your house… not your friends? Not football?”

“I like my house! It’s got everythin’ just the way I like it.”

“Alright, alright. Fine, you can miss your house.”

“Wha’d’you miss? Your kids? The missus?”

“I dunno really… kids are both all grown up now, missus went back to being a ms a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“Is what it is. Anyway, I miss football even if you don’t, honest to God, what kind of a footballer are ya? I wish someone would slip me this week’s standings, feel like I’m going insane tryin’ to imagine all the results.”

“Should’ve said something sooner, twat. I can tell you how the league’s going.”

“You can?”

“Yes. Manchester United are on a – how many games’ve we missed now? – they’re on a three game winning streak and have shot to the top of the league.”

“Oh yeah? What about Liverpool?”

Gary tuts and shakes his head. “Relegation zone, I’m afraid.”

“We were top of the table when I came in ‘ere!”

“Well, you know what they say – anything can happen in football, can’t it?”

“You’re right, what’s that… I’m getting reports from Old Trafford that Salah’s just scored a hat-trick, Stretford end as well –”

“You twat! As if your Liverpool could win away against United, you’re dreaming!”

“Erm, yeah… it’s good to be going home, ‘course it is. Glad I wasn’t the first voted out, hah, I actually think I’ve done alright in ‘ere.”

“Yeah, no, it’s been a brilliant experience to be fair. I never thought I’d make such good friends – yeah, even him. I know, I’m as surprised as you are! Anyway, I’m wishin’ them all the very best of luck in the semi-finals.”

“I mean, I know fourth place isn’t bad, but I do think I deserved to get to the finals. I’ve worked harder than anyone else here, so –”

“Well yeah, ‘course, it’s up to the public, so – if it’s my time then it’s my time.”

“What’ll I be doin’ when I get to the hotel? Dunno. Check my messages first, probably!”

“What, Gary? I saw ‘im yesterday, it’s not like I’m missin’ him already! Might get ‘im to buy me a pint, though, least he could do after I had to put up with him for three weeks.”

#u just KNOW the first thing jamie did when he got out the jungle was a) shower then b) immediately find gary and kiss him stupid #carraville #drabbles

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devilart2199-aibi · 21 hours

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IDW collection reading update! :D 📖 (Fixed!)

Phase 2 volume 4 done! This volume included: Monstrosity, RID issues 12-18 and MTMTE issues 14-16!

I ended up reading all the way to Phase 2 volume 6 before finishing this update so my notes are a bit scattered! Anyway! As usual my thoughts are below :3 ⤵️

Monstrosity:

This story is set in the past, when Optimus has assumed leadership on Cybertron after the senate and pervious primes were killed.

This story is, I dunno... For some reason I can't really get into these?? It feels... edgy?? Idk, I feel like that's not the best way to describe it. But there's something about the vibe with these ones in the past (like Autocracy and this one).

Of course everyone is becoming the characters we know since this is in the past. So there is going to be a lot of fumbling and growing from them and things that seem out of character. But given their situation at the time, i can't be super harsh on odd decisions.

They have to deal with the senate and their corruption, as well as that from the previous primes, the Decepticons uprising and wanting to take over, Cybertron running out of resources aaaaand I feel like something else I can't remember rn 🤔 but a lot is going on!! Haha.

There is a scene that references the OG animated movie where they toss Megatron out of Astrotrain and he goes "I still function...!" Which was a pretty cool homage tho.

But this kinda felt like a whole way to just show how badass Megs is meanwhile Optimus is going through it on Cybertron 😂 It was entertaining and interesting at parts, but some things I was 'eh' about

RID: 12-16:

Before i go on, I'm sorry, but... this Megs panel is giving me the same energy as that little alien guy that was in the news months ago 🤣 Now actually⤵️

Megatron returns!! This story was very entertaining!! I feel like I can usually guess where something is going, but I was surprised by a lot of the twists here! There was so many!

The character deaths had me shook! 😭 Wheeljack ahhhh!!! Metalhawk!! Also everything with Prowl and the Constructions! O_O;

I'm sorry Prowl 😔 I was pretty surprised when they started killing off the Decepticons at first, but then went: "Well, I guess he's being super ruthless now" I couldn't see you were brainwashed!! 😭🗿To my defense, him teaming up with Arcee and given Arcee's record, it kinda seemed like the natural progression of things lol 💀

Two things I kinda have mixed feelings about tho are:

1. Arcee just casually being part of the Decepticon gang and no one questioning her being there?? She then easily kills the guy controlling Devastator and that was like... Megatron's big plan. Why didn't she do it sooner? I imagine it was to draw out Meg's, but still it seemed weird.

2. Starscream killing Metalhawk after Metalhawk came to save Starscream. It's in his character and everything, and I'm happy that he did it bc it shows who he is. But OOF I thought he was leaning a different way for a bit and that I had Starscream wrong, But no, he's greedy boy. (I was starting to like Metalhawk T_T)

Anyway! Good guy Swindle!! 🥹

MTMTE 14-16:

💀💀💀💀💀 BIG SAD. But!!! It was a super interesting story!! I really enjoyed learning about Overlord and Chromedome.

Chromedome becoming Trepan's apprentice in the past was crazy!! :O And the whole scene with him and Prowl in Prowl's office. When Prowl asks/threatens Chromedome to go into Overlord's mind 😙👌 *chef's kiss* GET 'EM CHROMEDOME!! 💪👊🔪

The whole thing about how the Phase Sixers are made was very interesting too!! This frame ⤵️ Meg's saying this made me lmao 😂 I can now see the thing between him and Overlord better now.

As for Overlord getting out and obliterating some of the crew... ughhhhh 😭😭😭 Pipes man!! Ratchet protecting the medibay was awesome. Best doctor 🚑😌

I was shocked during the fight with Overlord that Magnus got so injured!! I've read ahead already, but I was sweating it, I thought he was gonna die too 😭😭 Overlord goes right for your spark man 💀

Luckily they got Overlord back to his containment cell, but- 😭😭😭😭 LITTLE MAN 😭😭😭 Why'd he have to hop in there to get the sword??? OTL

Then Chromedome blowing it up once the cell disengaged from the ship 😭 It was a perfectly painful sequence! 👏

When I saw the scene with Whirl and the cannon/ blaster shooting asteroids, I knew it would come around 😔

Also!! Learning that Chromedome has had other deep connections with bots (idk if Brainstorm meant Conjunx' specifically) and given them his innermost energon before and that's why he's dry!! Excuse me as I sob 🤧🤧🤧🤧😭😭😭😭 and then he makes himself forget!!! UGHH OTL My heart man!

The tape that Rewind made too!! 😭🤧

Drift taking one for the team too by getting banished 😔 he's a real one. Also pls come back.

RID 17-18:

We got more Shockwave lore here and I'm a big Shockwave enjoyer so I was very happy!! More heartache of course tho 😢

Him pitching/making the Jhiaxian academy of advanced technology is huge. Then all the experiments he did once he was turned purple 💀💀💀

Him going to Dai Atlas and injuring him before the attack on the senate so that he would escape death was a cool surprise. He's still in there ;_; ahhhh.

There is another story that happens in current time where Bee gets turned into Goldbug, but I think he's called "Goldfire" here? 🤔 He really got injured during the whole thing with Meg's so they had to fix him up with pieces of his old earth form.

It was cool to see included in the story :3

Final Random Thoughts:

This volume had a bunch of great stories in it! And I learned quite a bit about characters I like!

Though it was sad, I'd say my favorite story was the mtmte one with Overlord (The Overlord arc?). The art is always fantastic and so is the story!

I look forward to reading more and I'll be making another reading update very soon since I'm already on volume 6!

I didn't want to lump them all together bc I like using images as the story breaks and Tumblr only let's you use 10 per post 😔 Also... I ramble quite a lot haha, so 3 volumes worth would definitely be too much! 😂

Anyway! See you next time! 👋

#aibi thoughts #transformers chats #aibi reads tf idw1 collection

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aritamargarita · 2 days

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ATTITUDE || 002

we are so back its not even funny.…chat put W’s and 1’s in the chat. also if u catch this on ao3 im trying to fix the spacing it just ruined everything omg. (I FIXED IT)

WITH NEW RESURGENCE of WCW wrestlers, the WWF has a brand new problem on their hands. Under pressure, Vince decides to create the Invasion pay-per-view, an entire show dedicated to WWF vs WCW. In turn, Shane initiates your undercover plan. Oh, and Trish Stratus also gives you a proper thank you for helping her out. Lita isn't too welcoming, though. Matt isn’t either..

All of you had heard the announcement of Invasion just this morning. Supposedly, you and your team would fight the WWF next month, culminating in a winner-takes-all match.

You figure Shane was making his calls to let everyone know. You wouldn't be surprised if you were the first to know it, but it's unbelievable. Is the WWF challenging you guys? The answer is yes, but you know they will lose that battle.

This may have been the beginning of the end for that company, and nothing brings you more joy than seeing it crumble beneath your feet. Vince must've felt incredibly pressured by WCW. Dare you say, he felt threatened if he was going as far as making an entire show dedicated to this.

Supposedly, no one knew the entire card yet. The only thing Shane knew was that one of those matches would be Team WWF vs. Team WCW and that he needed extra time to prep everyone for it.

There's an inevitable group meeting to be called; you're sure of it. You don't mind being there one bit. You have to ensure your fellow wrestlers are pumped up with a pep talk before going out there.

Hell, you might even have your own match! So exciting. The only person you could think of them pitting you against is Lita, which you didn't mind at all.

"[Name], your hands are shaking."

Torrie's speaking pulls you out of your thoughts, and you bring up your hands to look at them.

You are shaking, and you find it incredibly hard to stop, as much as you try to will your body to.

"Ooh, you are!" She exclaims, looking over you again. "Like, really bad."

The black leathery couch creaks as you shift in your spot. You two were hanging out backstage at the next show, just as Shane requested.

There's gotta be something else you could do instead of sitting around like this. You wish you could run some interference, but as of tonight, you're trying to get into Team WWF's good graces.

You grimace at the thought. That is NOT your company, nor will it ever be. It even feels wrong to think that you belong to them.

You try to twist and turn one of your hands, but you're still jittering. "Sorry." You quickly apologize. "No idea why I can't stop."

When Torrie says absolutely nothing, you turn over to her. It's like she's examining you, but the awed look on her face is starting to agitate you.

She exhaled sharply and pointed a finger at you with a smile. "I get it now! You're nervous!" She exclaims.

"No," You're quickly denying it. "I'm cold, that's all. There's a draft in this room. I don't know how you're not cold with what you're wearing." You motion to her red jumpsuit cut in possibly the most revealing way ever.

"What's wrong with this?" She asks, looking down at herself. "If we want to get contracts, we'll have to make some sacrifices."

The first thing you say is: "…Ew." And although you mutter out an apology, you still find the implication gross.

"Anyway," Torrie moves on. "You know there's nothing to worry about. Shane has everything under control!"

"Under control?" You jump out of your seat. "Invasion is next month! We have no idea what they're gonna put on the card. I don't think any of us has control over it, WWF does!"

Whenever you get wound up like that, Torrie would always back off to let you cool off. You'd generally sort it by your lonesome. But with how you're acting this go-around, it seemed like you need her intervention today.

"It's okay! That's why we're here." She reminded. She stands up to look you right in the eye. "To figure out what they're up to."

At first, you don't say anything. All you do is look back at Torrie. She gives you an expectant look, and you suck your teeth in response.

"I know." You say. "It's—"

You two are startled by the door slamming open, nearly falling off its hinges. You can hear Vince McMahon's voice from the outside, which makes you stand on guard.

Two men enter the room instead. They look around, turn the room upside down, move chairs, and look behind some plants.

Could Vince not come in himself? Too cowardly to come in? What a pansy.

A camera follows in right behind them, and you get the notion that you're on live TV. You can't hear it, but the crowd cheers at you and Torrie's appearance.

Torrie instinctively hides behind you. In turn, you do your best to stand strong. You try not to show your nervousness, crossing your arms so that you can hide your hands.

The two men in here were still turning the entire room upside down in search of something. You're not happy that these guys are ruining your "unassigned-assigned" room.

"Excuse me! Are you looking for something?" You finally say.

They freeze in tandem, and one looks at you in realization. They didn't care about your presence at all, huh? "Get in here!" One of the men yells out. "That's the girl with Booker T!"

With those words, Vince McMahon himself storms right into the room. You push Torrie even further behind you when he enters.

"Where the hell is Booker T?!" He gives the room a once over and then turns toward you. "You! You would know! Where is he?!"

"…. He's not here." You answer. The sound of shuffling makes you turn your head to the right. One of the men decided to toss your bag across the floor. "Hey! Watch it, that's mine! What the hell is wrong with you?"

He slowly turns around. "What?"

"You heard me! "Whoever this guy was, your patience was already running thin. "Don't you have any manners? Pick it up!"

"I'm not picking that damn thing up." He says. Now that you get a better look at him, he looks exactly like the figure you saw at WWF New York.

If your memory serves you correctly, this is Stone Cold Steve Austin. Who just threw your very expensive bag on the floor?

The other guy with medals around his neck leans down and picks it up instead. "Here you go." He reaches it out toward you.

"Kurt, what the hell are you doing?!" He yelled. "She's a WCW girl! You [Name]?"

"Oh." Kurt falters, then drops your bag right onto the floor. Again.

"That's me, yeah." Though you confirm your identity, you feel exasperated. The crowd can't help but laugh. "…Please." You beg. "STOP DROPPING MY BAG." You kneel to pick it up and gently place it on the couch behind you. This time, they won't throw it around as if it had no value.

After that whole debacle, the question remains. "Well, where is he?" Vince asks. You narrow your eyes at him.

It takes everything, and you mean everything, not to insult him. It's all too easy to beat everyone up with a makeshift weapon and leave with Torrie for the rest of the night.

"You didn't hear me before? I said, I don't know." You repeat. "Maybe you should open up your ears, ol—"

"W-We don't know, Mr. McMahon!" Torrie cuts you off quickly. It's for the best. "You see, we're so glad you came here. Our contracts are expiring, and we were looking for something new."

You're sure that they were suspicious. After you attacked Lita, you weren't sure they'd go through with her idea. Torrie, sure. You already know she'll get in because she wasn't guilty, and newsflash: she's also attractive.

You, you're not sure. Obviously, you're attractive, but you may have ruined your chance by jumping on Lita like that. You decide to decorate your white lie with another.

"I just don't want to be a leader. I was told to do that to Lita, and I feel horrible. I don't want to be involved with WCW." You kick up your act to 100 by forcing tears to spring to your eyes, which sells it more. "Shane may even fire me for talking to you…"

"That's what you get when you deal with those classless WCW folk," Kurt snidely remarked, shaking his head. "Am I right, fellas?"

Vince and Austin look at each other for a moment, then nod their heads. Then, Kurt turns to you with his hand out.

"Hi, [Name]. Nice to meet you. I'm Kurt Angle, Olympic gold medalist." He reaches his hand out for you to shake, and you use your non-wet hand to shake it. Sorry about your bag."

Guess an apology is a good way to start.

"Hello. It's fine." You shake his hand quickly and then return to your sob story. "I guess you're right. That company is classless."

Torrie rubs your shoulder. "It's okay. It's okay, [Name]." She then turns to Vince. "Will you consider it?"

He's still not convinced. "And you are…..?"

She fills in the blank for him. "Torrie Wilson. From WCW. We would be so honored to work with you."

'We?' You think. Torrie must've been taking French classes.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Seeing as no one's jumping out at them, all three men relax at her words.

"I might be able to tell you where I think he is." When you say that, all three men perk up toward you.

Torrie looks alarmed but quickly calms down in fear of getting caught. You try to reassure her by patting the hand she kept on your shoulder.

"My only request is that you consider hiring us when our contracts go down the drain."

Honestly, you don't know where Booker T is, but you still try to compromise to get in good with them.

"Alright then. I'll do it. But Torrie, it's good to meet you. Very, very good." Vince was clearly trying to make moves on your blonde friend. "Maybe this weekend, dinner?"

Before Torrie can respond, you're quick to answer him. " We," You emphasize, "—can meet you at the show. No dinner, sorry. I don't think we'll be hungry."

Austin is pleased to hear it. "That sounds good. We don't need her. Then we'll go to dinner, Vince. I'll clear my schedule."

Kurt immediately jumps on the bandwagon. "Me too. I'll be there."

Austin shakes his head. "…We don't need you."

You clear your throat, making everyone look at you. "If you wanna know, I'm 99% sure Booker T is somewhere in the locker rooms. He could be looking for you guys like you're looking for him."

You can see them get all hyped up at your reveal, so you hope that was the push so they can get the fuck out of here.

Kurt is the only one who thanks you; he mutters it while vigorously shaking your hand one last time.

And thankfully, it was the push. They weren't sticking around for too long. At the very least, the three bid you and Torrie a quick goodnight and bolted out the door.

It must be important to find him. It's too bad you pointed them in the wrong direction. You knew that he wasn't anywhere near the stadium yet.

The more they looked, the more they wouldn't expect his appearance. They'll think he's not there at all, and the next time they're defenseless…WHAM! They won't see it coming!

God, you need to find a way to top that. Booker T is beating you in that department! You pray that Shane wouldn't actually get rid of you because you weren't performing up to standard.

You've got this. All you have to do is start plotting in your hotel room. You won't ask Shane what he thinks should be done. You'll spring the idea on him instead.

You wipe the crocodile tears, swiping a few fingers under your eye to not smudge the makeup you had on. Torrie walks over to the door and peeks out to ensure they're gone. She gently closes the door behind her afterward.

"When they came in, you looked like you were about to scream." She says.

You snicker. "I wish I could tell you how uncomfortable that entire exchange made me. Starting from pretending I'm something I'm not to that McMahon being around making me gag."

"I could've handled it myself." She starts. "But I still appreciate you saying something. We definitely wouldn't have gotten those contracts if you said anything more than that."

Yes, sometimes you could say some crazy things, but it's not always your intention to! Things tend to slip out of your mouth. You're just speaking your truth…

People have told you before that you like to speak about what's on your mind. Whether that was bad or good was always left to your interpretation.

"Pretty much. Anyway, we should split up." You suggest. "I'm going to try to apologize to Lita. Maybe I can find other people in the meantime."

"Oooh, you're finally deciding to make friends! Now you don't need to bother me and Stacy anymore." Torrie teased.

"I'm not gonna be friends with anyone in here!" You clarify. Seriously, you wouldn't be caught dead hanging with someone from here. "Besides, you guys love me and would get jealous of seeing me with anyone else."

She smiles at you. "Hmm, we get jealous? I'll have to get back to you on that."

You try to stay in your itty bitty circle for the most part, but you have no qualms about hanging out with coworkers.

Now, people from the WWF? No way. You don't think they could replicate the charm that the others had. Sure, people like Sting would stare creepily at you as you played chess. That was neat, but you can't beat him to this day!

You learn things, too. People like Randy Savage would yell at you and tell you to raise your voice to present yourself better. Fun!

And then you had people like Mona, who was friendly and calm. She's given you advice many times. It was a change of pace from the energetic characters you surrounded yourself with.

You think there's no competition.

You move past Torrie and open the door, peaking your head down the hallway. There is someone not too far away. It's not Kurt, Vince, or Austin. It's someone else.

He's blonde, and he's holding something almost obnoxiously large. From this distance, it's safe to assume it's a trophy.

You retreat into the room. "And just like that, I already see my first target. How about I meet you back here when the show's over?"

"Fine with me." She agreed. "You know, I saw a Friday's on Time Square. Do you want to go after the show? Oh, oh, and who was it at the door?"

"I don't see why not." You don't mind hanging out. Not one bit. "And I think you're asking the wrong person. I can tell he's not a part of our team. He was blonde, and I think he was holding a trophy. No clue who that is. I need Shane to run me down on these people. I only know Trish, Lita, Matt, and the Big Show from him. I think I know the commentators, too?"

Shane was only telling you important information, so you figured these other randoms were less important to be known by you.

"Oooh, he's blonde?" Torrie's got that knowing sound in her voice, and you groan. "That's totally your type, [Name]. Everyone backstage used to say that you loved the blondes."

You look at her incredulously. "You're joking." Because she had to be. Who would even say that? It's not your fault that 80% of your friends had that hair color.

"Hehe. Yeah, I am. Wait, come here! If you want his attention, you've gotta oil up the good bits! Also, I think you need to wear something else!" Torrie exclaimed, dashing over to her bag.

Nuh-uh. No way. Not this time. She will NOT make you her Barbie doll again. You let the woman recommend clothes to you once and now she thinks she's your stylist!

"Torrie, what the hell do you mean oil up?! Leave me alone!" You exclaim. "I've gotta get this guy before he leaves!"

She's got the bottle in her hands, shooting you a pout. "Fine. But can't you lift your shirt just a little so that—"

"If you say anything else, I swear to god I will get you." You threaten, pointing a finger at her.

She backs off, holding her hands up to you. "Touchy!"

Saying nothing else to her, you open the door and walk down the hallway to approach this stranger.

You remember to keep a puzzled look on your face, then look around the room, all confused. The more ditzy you act, the more men will feel inclined to help you.

You let out an aggravated sigh, which is the one thing that caught his attention. He shifts the trophy in his hand to take a better look at you and then takes a few steps back in alarm.

"Woah, rogue WCW woman spotted. Don't attack me." He says. "I'm armed." He holds out the trophy to you warily, then pokes your stomach with one of the tiny metal prongs of the trophy.

"Ow—not a threat!" As plastic as those prongs were, they hurt like hell. You feign panic, throwing your hands up. "I'm not a threat. I was just looking for someone! I want to tell Lita I'm sorry. Have you seen her?"

He's not sold at all, considering you cracked her head open the other day. "You want to say you're sorry? Listen, I don't care how tempting you are, I won't fall for whatever you've got going on. You're gonna try and take her out!"

This guy may have got the wrong idea. You're not into seducing him. Not yet, anyway.

"Thank you," You accept the compliment. "I, and probably you, have no idea what you're going on about." He may be in his head about you. "I'm only here to make amends because my contract may expire. I'll be out of work and out of a leader spot in no time."

They'd have to pry you from Shane's cold, dead hands. You don't have a choice but to hold onto the lie that your contract is ending soon.

"That sucks." He outright says, using a hand to comb through the top of his hair. "Uh, I mean, I'm sorry to hear that." He genuinely did seem apologetic, so he may be falling for it.

You’re still trying to be nice. "I'm [Name], but with you knowing what I did to Lita, you might already know."

"Yeah," He nods. "People've been talking about you beating up Lita. They're wondering what they're gonna do now. You're kinda gutsy for even showing up tonight. I'm Edge." He feels it's only fitting for him to introduce himself back, but it's easy to see that he's hesitant.

You smile anyway. Your following words are honeyed when you speak them. "Hi, Edge. Good to meet you. I'm gonna remind you that I mean no harm, seriously. After I talk to Lita, I'll even leave the arena. Are you sure you don't know where she is?"

"Lita.." Edge repeats, looking away from you for a second. "She might be with the Hardy Boys. I'm pretty sure."

It's part of a confession, making you think he had been holding back due to his suspicion.

"Hardy Boys, huh? Ah, do you know where catering is?" You ask. "I got so lost, completely forgot how big the Garden is." It's an exaggeration, but you should get some directions while you're at it.

…This is partly because you're hungry too.

Will the WWF's food hold its own against WCW catering? You need to put it to the test. You won't lie; your company had some of the best food by far.

It's not like you could put anything else to the test anyway. You hadn't even gotten a chance to get started on those local circuits because you took the chance and signed up for the Powerplant instead. It may have been too early, but it's gotten you far enough to be handed that beautiful contract.

It's not like you minded, you practically grew up watching it with relatives. Calling home with the exciting news was returned with happiness and playful jealousy.

Edge turns and points down the hallway. "Should it be that way to your left? Could be wrong, so don't come back trying to attack me."

You wave him off. "I won't. I think I'll give you a suplex. How does that sound to you?"

"I think I'd be the one doing that to you, [Name]." He countered. "You look pretty easy to carry."

"Edge! Been lookin' for you, man. Where'd you go?" Another voice makes you turn around to see yet another blonde man with goggles approaching you, and you fight the urge to throw your arms up in exasperation.

Maybe Torrie was right. You're not beating the blonde-lover allegations. You're losing… she's winning!! You hate it!

He looks over toward you, eyeing you up and down. Then he comes closer to Edge, muttering something else. "Who's that?"

"[Name], this is Christian, my brother." Edge introduces. "Christian, this is [Name]."

Brother, huh?

Christian looks between the two of you incredulously, then settles his eyes on Edge. "Wait, this is the chick that—"

The both of you say the end at the very same time. "…smashed Lita's head into the ground." You already knew it was coming. "Yes. That's me."

"Guess it's obvious then." He snickered.

"I may have done it, but it wasn't my intention." For a second, you pause because it was. There's no way it was just a freak accident. "It wasn't my intention to make her my enemy." You correct. "All I wanted to do was say sorry about it. It was all a misunderstanding on my end. Maybe we can work together against WCW."

You're trying your best to present yourself as a charity case towards them, and they, along with the others, are taking the easy bait.

He's not as apologetic as Edge was, but Christian still shakes his finger at you. "Work together, eh? You know what? She could help us, Edge. Those Hardy's, you know we've been feuding since 1999."

He then turns to you. "[Name], it's a big thing."

"What was the last time we won, last month?" Edge asks.

Christian takes a second to think about it and then replies. "Yeah, man. It was us and Rhyno. Eddie tagged along with them. Then we lost to him and Jeff. Remember?"

"Yep. Something happened every time." Edge reminisces about those matches. "We won that first one, sure, but Lita kept getting in the way."

"Exactly." Christian's leading up to something with this. "I hate to say it, but they've got us beat, man. We never got someone to deal with Lita, and she's done that hurricanrana crap to both of us! That's what usually messes us up." Christian continued to explain.

"If we have her…" Edge vigorously nods his head, waving his finger back at him. "I see where you're going with this man."

This was perfect! You swear you'd kiss Christian if you could. He's got you right where you need to be for the most part. A smile grows on Edge's face. "She can get rid of Lita! Dude, you're like, genius level of genius."

Genius level of genius? That’s original.

Christian takes that trophy out of Edge's hands for some reason. He snugly adjusts it in his arms, holding it as if he wouldn't let go.

Neither you nor Edge question it; they are more interested in getting rid of those Hardy Boys once and for all.

Well, you're only partly in on their fantasy. You had no idea how their feud went! The only question you have to ask is, "Are you guys going to be able to get us on the card for that?"

"You don't have to worry about that, [Name]. As the King of the Ring winner, I'll make sure it gets done!" Edge exclaims.

Aha! No wonder he had that trophy. It makes sense, but you're not sure how big of an achievement it was. As long as it got you on the card, you're good.

"Commissioner Regal is a real pain. Are you sure you're gonna be able to do it, dude?" Christian asks. "You know, it's always the Brits. He acts like he's got a stick up his ass."

"Don't worry about it. Me and you will go into his office." Edge pats his shoulder. "We'll get that match in no time."

You're down. "Okay then. You guys tell me when we go. I'll be ready. Edge, you said catering was down that way, right?"

He gives you a thumbs up, and you say goodbye. Maybe you'll see them more in the future, especially since you're teaming up now.

You turn your head behind you and see they're still watching you go. You decide to give them one final wave for real. Before you get to catering, you wait until you're a reasonable distance to pull out your phone and dial Shane up.

It's a quick detour, hitting a sharp left in the hallway. You're met with another room nearby, a gift from whatever god was out there, the janitor's closet.

It would be better to finish the call there, wouldn't it? No curious eyes, no listeners. It'll just be you.

Your paranoia starts to spike because you're already peeking around the corner to see if anyone's there. The coast may be clear, but you won't take your chances. Closet it is.

You've already got your phone in your hand as you open the door. The only thing that would keep you company now were the cleaning supplies lined up on the shelves.

You're already dialing Shane up once you close the door behind you. Most of your paranoia has subsided after closing it, and you keep your hand on the doorknob to ensure that no one else opens it to interrupt you.

Your back is turned, but what more should you be afraid of? Those mops and brooms? If anyone saw you going in, you'd say you needed some fresh air alone. Something like that.

"I wasn't expecting any company."

"My god!" You instinctively yell, jumping out of your skin. Goddamn it! Why would anyone be in the dark, in the janitor's closet of all places?! Your hand reaches for the light switch, flipping it on as soon as your fingers land on it.

Just your luck. You walk into a squatter's home. You turn behind you to see a man sitting before you, slumped over with his curly hair falling in front of his eyes. "[Name], isn't it?"

Your hand is still on the doorknob. Would it be wrong to say you don't think you can leave yet? He knows your name. You're still alert. "Um, maybe. Why in the hell are you in here alone?" Other than being a total creep.

"Doing drugs. You want?"

He offers it to you so casually! You're taken aback, and it takes you a minute to reply. "No!"

"Relax, I'm joking. You're not a cop, are you? All I am here for is the silence. It's the only thing I can ever find peace of mind in." He says.

You look at him and nod. "Right. Yeah. Okay. Well, this was all an accident. I have a really important call, so I'm gonna have to leave. Although a word of advice, maybe some pink would be good for your decor."

You're turning away from him, but he's saying something else the next thing you know.

"WCW shouldn't be alone in this fight. We need to take this company down. The WWF is fated to fall."

He makes you turn back around curiously. This may not be a squatter after all; he knows about WCW.

"Who exactly are you?"

As soon as you ask that question, the phone picks up. Shane's voice is loudly on the speaker, "Hello, [Name]? Are you alright?"

You immediately hold the phone to your ear. "What? Yeah. I'm fine. Can I call you back?"

"It's good to know it’s actually your name," the man says, setting his hands on his ankles to stand up from his spot. "Don't hang up now. The show's just starting." He comes closer to you, and you're already trying to hit buttons on your phone for some privacy.

"Don't suppose that's Shane McMahon on the phone? Let me talk to him. We're close. Real close." There's supposed to be excitement in his voice, yet it's delivered to you in the most monotone way possible.

"No, you can't talk to him! I mean, it's not Shane!" You try to cover your tracks, holding out your hand to him. "I have to go, so go do your drugs or whatever you were up to."

He doesn't leave you alone, instead reaching over and snatching the phone out of your hands. He lifts the phone in the air so you can't reach it, then turns away.

"Shane, can you hear me?" He asks, pulling the phone closer to his mouth. "Remember me?"

There's silence at first, and then Shane's voice comes from the phone. "Oh! Hey, Scotty! How're you doing?" You're in complete disbelief.

"You know this guy?!" You exclaim. "Shane, are you pranking me right now?!"

"I don't go by that anymore. It's Raven now. I'll be the first to tell you that ECW wants in. We've seen what's been going on."

"ECW as in Extreme Championship Wrestling?" Do they really want in? Any help is good, and it'd be two against one. You're not entirely against the idea. "Wait, give me my phone back! This isn't for you!"

"You're with [Name] right now?"

"Yeah. She's pretty aggressive. It goes to show what kind of women you surround yourself with, Shane." He comments.

"Who in the world told you that?" You ask, ignoring his snide remark. "Are you ECW's leader or something? I bet you don't have as much authority as I do."

"Okay, okay. There's no need to fight, guys." Shane is trying to be a peacemaker, doing his best to ease any tension. "Raven, if you can clue Paul Heyman in, we can discuss this in more detail in person. My invitation is extended to you, but I need to speak with [Name] for now. We can't proceed unless I talk with her first."

Thank god Shane was on your side. You can't fight the cheeky smile as you expectantly hold your hand out.

"Fine. I'll be the person to spread the message to him. The sooner, the better. Besides, no one wants to keep this outdated Nokia anyway." The sarcasm in his voice is the first emotion you've heard from him.

And you groan in response. For the love of god! Everyone needs to leave the Nokia alone! Raven begrudgingly hands it over and turns over to the door.

You'd think he'd say something else to you, but he only gives you one last glance before leaving.

"And stay out!" You yell behind him, slamming your palm onto the door.

"It's a pleasure to hear your voice, [Name]," Shane says. "I'm assuming you didn't just call me for some casual conversation before you were interrupted. What's going on?"

"Right, right. Before, I was so rudely interrupted." You say. "I ran into this guy Edge and his brother, Christian. They wanted me to team up with them to get rid of Lita. I figured it was a good opportunity to get myself out there. I'm also on my way to apologize to her after I finish talking to you. Is that alright?"

"Is what alright? You apologizing? I was the one that recommended you should—"

"No, no, that I'm even here. You called me a part of your dream team. Torrie told them our contracts were expiring soon. I played off that, but any smart person wouldn't get rid of their leader that fast. I don't want them to doubt me." At the end, you let out a sharp sigh.

Thanks to your explanations, no one's questioning you, but it's pretty easy to get caught up in a lie you tell.

"You worry a lot!" He laughs again, and you furrow your brows. "It'll be fine. A lot of those wrestlers aren't smarter than a bag of rocks. Trust me, I know this for a fact. My father's not any smarter. He has no idea what's coming to him, especially with ECW possibly helping us."

Talk about throwing people under the bus. It seems Shane's pretty relentless when it comes to his old employees. You're just glad you're not on the receiving end. Shane's been here longer than you, so you have no choice but to believe him.

However, you still feel hesitant. "Are you really sure?"

"How about this, then. I keep Torrie so she and Stacy can feud with Trish and Lita; you continue to play nice with the WWF since you're already there. You let them think that you're working your way to betray us when, in actuality, you're going to betray them."

Keeping Torrie after she told them that your contracts were expiring? That would be risky, along with you slotting into the roster. But you'll try and conform to it. "Okay, okay." You agree. "I think I can do that."

"Have some faith in me." It's like he can sense your hesitation. "More importantly, have some faith in yourself, [Name]. Was that all?"

The only thing you can do is try. "Yeah, I'll talk to you when I hear anything new."

"Alright then, you take care, [Name]."

Ending the call with those final words, you shove your phone back into your pocket. As much as you want to take a second to breathe, Lita's the next person on your list.

Opening the closet door, you head straight towards the double doors of catering. Oh boy, you hope Lita's in here. If not, you'll have to continue your journey elsewhere. You don't have all night, though.

You're met with a few unfamiliar faces when you open the door. They stare at you in confusion, which quickly turns into alarm. Some people even stand up from their seats.

You come in peace, for now! "Everyone can relax. I want to be on your side now. I came to apologize." You don't even beat around the bush.

Most are suspicious but still get back into their seats. What were they going to do anyway? You could defend yourself with one of these chairs if you needed to.

Scanning the room, you find the woman of the hour looking at you with wide eyes. You immediately approach her. A relieved smile appears on your face as your searching is no longer needed, tossing out your arms. "Lita!"

Just as you call her name, two men protectively stand before her. The only one you knew was Matt, although the other guy had a striking resemblance to him. Siblings, perhaps?

Matt was the one that had enough gall to get in your face. "You've got a lot of nerve showin' up here," Matt started, waving his finger at you. The southern twang in his voice almost makes you giggle. It's so out there.

You do your best to cover it by looking sad instead. "Tell me something I don't know. Sorry, but losing was your fault, though." That's one thing you had to make clear. "Tell me, was it nice when Trish kissed you? Did you even try to push her away?"

You pucker your lips toward him and kiss the air as he huffs at you. Matt is frustrated at your taunt and clenches his fist. What you say is true; you and Lita had your own business. Whatever he did in the ring was his responsibility.

Didn't mean you could tease him so freely about it, though.

He's going to say something else to you, but Lita shakes her head, getting up from her seat and stepping in front of him instead. "No, Matt. Just leave it. It's okay." And then she looks at you directly. "You must be really brave to show up here after what you did, or maybe you're just stupid."

It's the second time you've heard that tonight..

"Never stupid." You'd like to get that straight now. "Only apologetic." And for her to even say that makes you sure about your decision. You're glad you beat her up on Raw.

"I thought attacking you would prove my allegiance to Shane. He ordered it. I did it, but I see how wrong it is and how fucked up WCW is. After thinking about what I did to you, I wanted to come to this show and make things right."

It seems like you're taking a breath when, in actuality, you're trying to get your lies together. "I was sad and idling the halls. I want WCW to crash and burn. I have my allegiance and want it to be with all of you." You make sure to say it loudly enough so others can hear you.

"Well, I don't think any of us trust you." Matt cut in. "Something's not right about you."

"Matt, give the woman a break." The other guy says. "She's tryin' to help us. She apologized for what she did. I'm sure we've made some mistakes, so we could try and give her some credit."

Whoever this guy was with brightly dyed purple hair, you're glad he stepped in. You make a mental note to remember his face if you never introduced himself to you.

No, you won't let that happen. The only person you extend your hand to is him, although your proper introduction is meant for all of them. "I think we should get off on the right foot now. I'm [Name]. I want to be on your side now."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Lita and Matt share some telepathic looks. All you did was introduce yourself to him!

He reaches out his hand. "Jeff."

Matt's the one who brings Jeff back to Earth, smacking his shoulder. It makes Jeff retract his hand before you can even take it. "The hell are you doin'?! We can't trust her!" It's a whispered shout that you're in clear range of hearing, not that Matt cared.

Jeff shrugs at him, then holds his hands up. "I thought…”

"Hardy meeting," He points toward the door, sounding as stern as they come. "Right now. Lita, you do what you need to do with her."

Jeff slunks over to the door, and Matt is just about to follow, but Lita gives him a parting kiss before he goes. She mutters, "I love you," but Matt's already storming off to deal with Jeff to even reply.

"So, you two are an item after all. It wasn't just jealousy." You comment. The urge to make another Trish jab was strong, but by divine intervention, you didn't say it.

"Yeah. A year, now." She confirms.

That information goes right into the filing cabinet. You give a half-smile to her. "All of you are friends then?"

It's a bit tense between you two, but Lita replies anyway, albeit strained. "Yeah, uh, we're a team. They're brothers. Matt's the oldest."

It makes sense. They looked similar, and Matt used that authoritative tone when telling Jeff to go outside.

Either way, you decide to jump straight to the chase. "I'm gonna take this chance to clear the air while it's just me and you. Lita, I was being honest when I said I wanted to take WCW out. I've gotten so close to Shane McMahon that it would be a shame for all of us to waste this opportunity. Even out of all this, I want a friendly rivalry from you at most."

Friendly, yes, that's what you wanted. It's not like you'll stiff her in the ring or anything.

"Like they always say, it's just business, you know? No hard feelings."

Lita takes a minute to think about it, turning her head away from you and then turning back. "You know what? Fine. No hard feelings. I'll give you another chance, [Name]. But if you screw up again, I can't guarantee that I won't fight you about it."

"That is totally fine. Trust me, I won't mess up again. I'll be there to help you when our goals align." Your professional tone was leaking out...

This is partly thanks to the many creative meetings and other ventures you've had at WCW. Reassurance and composure are two ways to worm your way inside a company. "Is the food any good here, by the way?"

And you can understand if Lita doesn't fully trust you. If you were in her position, you wouldn't trust yourself either.

Lita shrugs. "I mean, yeah. It's alright, I guess. You'd have to try it yourself." You still do think she believes you, despite her dry responses. It's just more progess you need to make.

"Oh my gosh, [Name], right?"

Lita groans and tosses her head up toward the ceiling. Whoever said your name, Lita wasn't happy to see them.

You turn your head over to see Trish. "Could I have a moment?" She clasps her hands together.

It's like Lita gives you the same look she gave Matt, trying to tell you something without using her words. It's difficult for you to understand, so she instead decides to leave you two be.

"Do whatever the hell you want. She's all yours." She'll probably join that Hardy meeting if they're still out there.

The both of you watch her go, and once she's out, Trish gives you her undivided attention. "Lita's always been...catty. I mean, she's been bullying me since my debut! How crueler can you get? I don't understand why she doesn't like me. And here I am, trying to let creative put us together in case we have to go against WCW. Not you now, of course."

"Stacy Keibler. Torrie Wilson." You offer up their names. "Only two they'll probably pit you against. They're all they have now."

On another note, you're trying to understand why Lita disliked Trish that much. Well, it's obvious why she didn't like you, but that's only because you did something to provoke her into it.

As you recall, Trish did end up kissing Matt. It all makes sense now, Lita looking pissed about it as she retaliated. They're an item! It's no wonder Lita wants her out.

You'll let Trish figure out that part by herself some time. "Guess you've gotta get to know her a little better. You're Trish, right?"

"That's me. I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to say thank you. Lita was gonna rough me up some more if you didn't step in when you did." Her fingers move a few strands of hair out of her face. "I feel like I owe you. What do you say to lunch next Wednesday?"

Lunch with Trish? Looks like you're already getting in good with these superstars! "Fine with me."

"I'm sorry about Shane McMahon, by the way." She adds. "We need all the help we can get, and you deserve this spot. Guess all McMahon's are pigs."

All? Like, all of them? Not Shane, at least. Shane's been nothing but pleasant and respectful to you. Unlike your previous boss, Eric Bischoff, who you were sure hated your guts with the way he treated you.

"Oh yeah, probably. I wouldn't be surprised. Even my old boss was a sleazeball." You mention.

You always thought he preferred Stacy to you when booked in certain segments. You and "Miss Hancock" were always set together when possible, but she was always going over most of the time.

At first, you had a time when you resented Stacy, putting a strain on your relationship for months. But you slowly came to terms with the fact that it was never her fault. It was management. You'd bring up your problems to Eric, and he'd dangle your contract over your head. He was quick to tell you that you didn't have to stay. Could head back right to your hotel.

That's something you don't miss.

"Then I guess we've both had some problems with our bosses, huh?" Trish mused. "It's not a very good thing, but it makes me feel better to know I'm not alone."

You're not sure what history she's had with Vince McMahon, but if she was comparing her situation to your own, then she's definitely seen some shit. You'll have to ask her about it over lunch.

Honestly, you're happy she was so sweet. Considering you saved her skin, it was fair, but hospitality goes a long way for you right now.

"Did you want to sit with me? I've got an extra seat right next to me." She uses both of her thumbs to point to her left.

"I don't see why not," You smile. Let me get something to eat first." You're already sauntering off towards the table of different foods as you hear her say, "I'll just be over here then."

You have no idea where to start. To distract yourself for only five seconds, you grab a plate. Then you're already back to square one. What do you want to eat?!

Fruit, muffins, salad, you name it, they've got it. Everything looks appealing, and it's damn near stressing you out.

You make a mental apology to Trish because you're definitely going to be here for quite a while.

as i said on the ao3 ver, i envisioned 90s look raven because that’s probably my favorite iteration of that asshole. and this is actually really fun to write since I can build up relationships 😭 i kinda cringe seeing my old writing but im happy u guys really liked it!! Thanks for reading :D

#wwe imagine #wwe x reader #wwe various x reader #wwe attitude series #jeff hardy imagine #jeff hardy x reader #matt hardy x reader #matt hardy imagine #lita x reader #lita imagine #trish stratus x reader #trish stratus imagine #stone cold steve austin imagine #kurt angle imagine #torrie wilson x reader

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