i have far more feelings about this than i should

bad | 03

 He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Originally posted by sugutie

MEMBER: jeon jungkook x reader

GENRE: romance, smutish, fluff

WORDS: 2 856

WARNINGS: badboy!jungkook, cussing, mature

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08coming soon ↠ 

A/N: I enjoy writing this, so the fact that you guys like it makes me so happy. thank you to everyone who sent a nice message, it means so much

Keep reading

Quixotic [PJM] (M)

↠ ghoul!jimin x f!reader, 14.4k, it doesn’t matter who cares about you, it matters who lies about caring for you
smut (its in a car yo), mentions of social constructs and other things related, also mentions of creatures that aren’t exactly human, much angst

Quixotic - (adj.) extremely idealistic; unrealistic and impractical.

“I don’t have a heart. I think you should know. I don’t have a heart so usually I make decisions without any feeling. I don’t want you to think that I don’t care, because I do. I just care about you with my being, not my heart. I don’t have emotions like humans.”

Originally posted by kookmint

Keep reading

✨‼️ PSA / FAQ for new & aspiring sugar babies ‼️✨

So I’ve gotten an influx of questions in my inbox in the past few days and I feel like I’ve just been saying the same things to each person. Figured I’d just do a post like this to clear up some things.

I met this really promising POT online! We haven’t met in person yet, but he said he needs my bank account information so he can set it up with his assistant for direct deposit.

He’s a scammer. Never, EVER do anything without compensation in your hand / bank account. Even if he asks you for photos in exchange for $, you need to get paid first. When you go shopping, do you pick out what you want, put the bags in your car, then go back inside & pay? No.

Do not give out your personal bank account information. No matter how good the offer sounds, especially if it feels too soon or too good to be true. Please make a Square Cash account where he can deposit your money. It’s immediate deposit, so he can’t claim that “it might take a day or two”. You can even use a fake name and get sent a free Visa debit card through them, which will then have all the funds sent from him on it. You can use it anywhere Visa debit cards are accepted (which is literally everywhere). No muss, no fuss.

A guy on Tumblr messaged me claiming that he’s a a sugar daddy and wants to work out an arrangement. Should I trust him?

No fucking way. Do not reply to Tumblr “sugar daddies”. Block them. They’re scammers. All of them. Every single one. A real sugar daddy is not lurking on Tumblr looking for random girls, trust me.

Do you sell photos?

No. I prefer making large sums of money if I’m going to do anything for a man at all.

How did you start sugaring?

I had just gotten let go from my last job that I hated and my bank account was in the double digits. Wasn’t in a good place at all. I remember reading this article online about how NYC was one of the biggest cities for sugaring due to the sheer amount of wealthy older men. I met my very first SD through OkCupid, actually — I saw him for about 3 months, once a week, and by that time we ended amicably (he moved to China for work), he’d given me well over $6000. I wasn’t about to give that kind of income up, so I joined SeekingArrangement, where I met Apartment POT (he now pays for my apartment obv) and my other two SDs, who I see regularly and also get allowances from.

Does anyone in your life know about what you do?

2 out of 5 of my best friends do. The two that do know are completely supportive and are actually considering getting into it themselves. Other than that, I’m a pretty private person and tend to keep a lot of stuff to myself, not just the sugaring. This blog is where I let it all out. 🙈

Do you have any tips for plus size aspiring SBs?

I get this question a lot. While I am not plus size, my one piece of advice would be to not let that define you unless you want it to. There are so many men out there that are into all types of women. It can be daunting to find them, I get it. Get ready like you would when you go out with your girls. If you don’t feel confident, FAKE IT TIL YOU MAKE IT. Research topics to talk about. Wear something that makes your boobs look phenomenal (they are anyway, but all women have that one outfit that you know you look fucking bomb in). EXFOLIATE (I use this olive oil + sugar mixture, it’ll change your life). Use highlight on your collarbones. Paint your nails if you can’t get them done. Smell good. You’re beautiful, resourceful, and desirable, don’t forget that.

How do I get started?

Do your research. Create a blog for inspiration. The #sugarbaby tag on here is a great place to look for tips. Make sure you’re emotionally and physically ready for it — this lifestyle is not for girls who aren’t okay with rejection or get easily attached. Be more than okay with casual sex. Invest in your wardrobe — buy a couple dresses for future dates. They don’t have to be expensive or overly sexy, just flattering. You should have a pair of heels that look good with everything. Try Forever21.

Do you meet SDs with your natural hair?

So far, I haven’t, but that’s because I’m dealing with older white men that would be absolutely fascinated with it and that can feel uncomfortable (all my WOC out there, you know what I’m talking about). I also did the Big Chop months ago, so I typically wear wigs when I meet with my SDs or POTs. It honestly makes me feel like a character to the point where I have designated wigs that I wear for each SD, lmaoooo. 🤷🏾‍♀️

OKAY WHEW. I need to go run errands now, but I hope this helps you guys. Of course, my inbox is always open. I’ll talk to you soon.

Love,

K 💕

Feel Me (renewed)

Bucky x (enhanced) Reader

Notes: anxiety, emotional stress, flirting, smut, fluff

A/N: So here it is guys! The new version of Feel Me, I hope you enjoy the parts I’ve added. There’s gonna be more. Some more emotions are still to be explored, so I’ll get those out there when I get to them. Happy reading! xxx


After living in New York for little over two years, you had a steady job at a lunchroom. It wasn’t all that glamorous, but you enjoyed it. The place was quiet, kind of secluded, but often moderately busy with regular patrons.

The second week in working your new job, in a new city, in a new country even, a man walked through the door just as you opened up shop. He seemed shy, timid, and waited patiently until you finished locking down the doors so they wouldn’t slam shut with the wind picking up.

Keep reading

Fanfiction - Broken Crown (5.1)

Previously, Moodboard 3 (for the final chapters)

Broken Crown

5.1

Would the blood ever leave my hands?

I had scrubbed them until my skin was red and raw, my knuckles almost blistered; but I could still spot small traces of blood underneath my fingernails. A wave of nausea would hit me in those moments like a slap, brutal and sudden, and I’d put my head down, to try and fight the queasiness away. The memory of Jamie’s blood. All the ghosts that now lived with me, softly whispering at my back.

I furrowed my brow, gazing at my fingers, and planned to give them another thorough scrub as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

“Claire, do you hear me?” Director Raymond pressed me. We were sitting at the hospital’s cafeteria, our backs turned, so it would seem to the innocent bystander that each one of us was immersed in a solitary cup of nasty coffee, filled with bitter coffee grounds. “Claire?”

“Yes.” I replied dryly. “I heard you the first twenty times – under no circumstance am I supposed to go even in the same hallway as Jamie’s room. Unless expressly requested by Colum, I’m not to see him.” I put down my cup with a little thumping sound, feeling less than charitable at the moment. “I have to be a good soldier and pretend nothing relevant happened.”

“Yes, you have.” He started cleaning his filthy eyeglasses with the corner of his flannel shirt. Raymond seemed extraordinarily tired, defeated – decades piled into his features within a single day. “I’m already living a bloody nightmare, trying to cover for Jamie’s presence there. I had to collect every favour owed to me by a reporter, to try and maintain the identity of The Garden’s Hero a mystery.” The MI5 director sighed and clicked his tongue at the foul taste of the dark brew. “No one can know Jamie’s real role there.”

“No one will look twice in Jamie’s direction now.” I slowly pushed the newspaper to Raymond’s table - the reporters soon would be short on synonyms to the word “terror”.They finally made their move. One hundred and forty-seven souls gone – more than two hundred injured. Not bad for a day’s work.”

Every station and newsroom had received a flyer two days after the attack. An unknown group (at least to the general public) had claimed the attack – they called themselves The Clan. Their motif was clear enough and worded in a concise sentence: “Independent Scotland now – or we shall free all Scots with fire.”

“Catchy phrase, don’t you think?” I said mordantly. I didn’t really need to see his face to know that Raymond looked utterly aghast. “What are we going to do? Don’t you have enough evidence to make an arrest? The blueprints were there in Leoch’s main server, after all.”

“Yes, they were there. But no trace of whomever placed them there.” The man impatiently tapped his finger, looking around to make sure no one had noticed our half-whispered conversation. “What do you make of Dougal MacKenzie, Claire?”

“He appears to be a breast man.” I snorted, remembering the way his eyes gawked at me, as we met in the hospital’s waiting room. I had been with Colum, expecting news on Jamie’s condition, when he had arrived from his extended business trip, looking less more than vibrant. “Colum looks on edge since he arrived. But, perhaps, he is only worried for Jamie.”

“Hm.” Raymond hummed noncommittally. “I want you to keep an eye on him. The charity gala is quickly approaching. All of Leoch’s allies - and enemies - should be there. It will be your task to witness any important exchange which takes place there.”

Delightful.” I reciprocated, darkly. “So far we have always been two steps behind them, Director. I can’t help but to feel they know a lot more about us, than us about them.”

“Are you suggesting we have a mole in our ranks?” He asked gravely.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “If we do, both Jamie and I are dead. So, we better hurry and get you that evidence you need.” And without further interactions I raised from my seat and walked away, to wait for Colum to lead us home – another day I had failed to see Jamie.

Jamie had gone through surgery on his leg and hand and, according to every report, was making an impressive recovery. I hadn’t seen him since the moment I had kissed his cheek before he entered the ambulance, chaperoned by Willie. That dreadful afternoon, I succeeded in getting to Colum’s mansion unnoticed and locking myself inside my room, where I undressed my bloody clothes and cried myself to numbness. I hadn’t really left that state ever since, going through the days with a shred of consciousness.

Fortunately, Colum attributed my paleness and tremor to the daunting coverage we witnessed in the television; while in truth I had been waiting for the moment he would be alerted that his nephew had been gravely injured in the blast. It was with distant surprise that I realized how devastated he truly had been; how he had pressed the driver to race us to the hospital, where he barked orders and threats until a nurse came to give us a comforting update.

I was already in my room when the phone buzzed – having delivered Colum’s round of night-time treatments with uncharacteristic speed and detachment, as I didn’t have much heart left for gentleness. It was not my official phone ringing, but the burner phone – I didn’t recognize the number blinking in the screen.

“This is Claire.” I whispered to the phone – I didn’t go with either Randall or Beauchamp, because at that point I really didn’t know which one was more me.

“Sassenach.” I almost dropped the device as I heard Jamie’s voice. His tone was hoarse and weaker than usual, but utterly alive. “Raymond came to see me once Colum left. I blackmailed him into using his phone to call ye.”

“Oh, Jamie!” I sobbed, covering my eyes with my hand, relief washing over me in a storm. “I’m so glad to hear you.”

“Aye.” He groaned a bit and I could vividly imagine him, moving in that impersonal hospital bed, restless. “Were ye worried for me then?”

“Barely noticed you were away.” I laughed between tears, my chin trembling. “Are you in pain?”

“Every day I canna see ye, I’m in pain, mo nighean donn.” Jamie said slowly, his voice tender. “But I recall the day I first saw ye, walking another hospital’s ward, and I seem to forget all about any discomfort.”

“I was so afraid for you. You reckless, stubborn, impossible, Scot.” I replied softly, curling in bed, the phone tightly pressed against my cheek. The tiredness of sleepless nights, fear and grief, seemed to be catching up to me – I felt almost boneless, a scattered puzzle someone had left unfinished, unsolved.

“I love ye too.” He whispered, a secret just for my ear. “Ye sound tired, Sassenach. Lay yer head, lass. And tell me all yer heart, if there’s time.”

anonymous asked:

Just read this article called "The Toxic Drama of YA Twitter", about the potential toxicity of the YA community, and would be interested in hearing your thoughts :)

While there can certainly be a conversation about mob mentalities and such on Twitter and the effectiveness of how we manage discourse (i.e. how white people should and should not respond to being called out), this article was an absolute travesty, and here’s why:

1) It published the full name and the occupation of the reviewer who negatively reviewed TBW without permission. This happened just days after this reviewer lost her grandmother, and now she is dealing with people sending her threats on her personal FB and on her workplace’s FB. All this in spite of the fact that her review did not seem to hurt TBW’s sales at all, as the article states.

2) It linked to tweets by other authors without permission, as well as to the tweets of minors without permission. This creates a very dangerous situation for multiple people, who are now being harassed. It flies in the face of journalistic ethical standards.

3) It’s noteworthy that everyone who seemed to agree with the writer (that calling out problematic material makes it ~so scary~ for privileged writers these days) was allowed to remain anonymous, while those who disagreed were put on blast. Again, no journalistic ethics. 

In this article, what is called the toxicity of the YA community is largely the response of white, privileged writers to the fact that they can’t get away with writing problematic shit anymore. When people of color, disabled people, LGBT+ people, etc., point out damaging narratives in books written by privileged writers, it is perceived as a personal attack on the author, as though they’re calling the author racist/ableist/etc. I would argue (being a white woman myself who has to check herself often), that if it’s in your book and not adequately challenged, then it’s probably hinting at your personal bias, but that’s a different conversation.

What happens when privileged writers get upset is that they get defensive and then try to make the marginalized people who criticize them look like an angry mob. Tone policing abounds, words are taken out of context, and so forth. Then everything get all confused and nasty and no productive conversation can happen at that point. It’s a technique that’s used repeatedly in online book communities. And ultimately, it’s about silencing marginalized people.

Is it true that sometimes mob mentalities arise and some books are misunderstood? Absolutely! There are some who insist that if there’s even a hint of something untoward in a book that people should not read it if they want to be an ally. I personally think this is a very strong stance to take, but of course, I’m privileged in a lot of ways, so I do my best to listen to marginalized people when I’m making these decisions. Others argue that everyone should read a book and “decide for themselves.” I don’t think this is the answer, either, because buying and otherwise promoting books that perpetuate damaging narratives doesn’t do anything to help, even if you later negatively review the book, because you’ve already tacitly given support through your money and time. I believe the answer is somewhere in the middle and should be taken on a case-by-case basis. The most important thing to do, however, is listen to the people who are directly affected by the narratives in books (in the YA community, teens especially). If you’re writing kidlit of any kind, the health and safety and well-being of your readers should be far more important than your hurt feelings when people call you out. 

The YA/kidlit community is demanding better of the publishing industry right now when it comes to diversity and representation–this is not just in the content of the books but in the writers that are being published. White people still dominate the publishing industry, and there’s a push to diversify the authors being published, too. I am white, and I am about to be published. I have to understand and accept that this does not help. However, I can use my platform and my privilege to help promote diverse writers, which is why I’ve made an effort to read more #ownvoices and diverse writers/books this year. I also step back and amplify the voices of the diverse writers and readers instead of giving my hot take on every little thing. On that note, if you want more information, you should check out YA Twitter and see some of the really excellent threads by WoC (in particular) discussing the privilege imbalances in the publishing industry in regard to this article. I’m learning a lot and I think there’s a lot to be gained by listening to them.

This article was unhelpful and it put people (minors included!) in danger. It does not seem like it was written out of any desire to help the situation, but only to ignite it and put dissenting voices on blast. The fact is, the reviewer named in the article did not in any way hurt the sales of The Black Witch. It’s doing just fine. So it strikes me as vindictive more than anything else, and I would not look to it as a conversation starter for how discourse about problematic books and privilege are conducted in the YA community.

terumob and ritshou are good pairings and dynamics and i like them a lot but riteru and shoumob are actually really interesting in the way they kind of challenge the characters? i think ritsu and teru would maybe bring out some of eachother’s worse traits but in a way that would ultimately lead to growth. meanwhile with shou and mob things would probably be a lot sweeter - shou would be faced with a kindness and compassion that’s all too lacking in his life, meanwhile shou’s energy might be frustrating but also refreshing for mob

“Why are you trying to leave? The evening has just begun- You wouldn’t want to embarrass us in front of all these officials, now, would you?”

Have some Italy/Monaco drawn after a lotta nerding with @ilserenissimo​ about these two- I’m not satisfied with how I draw Feli’s face (then again when am I satisfied) but I’m happy with the poses ;u;

I’ll probs extrapolate on this headcanon some day soon. For now just know it involves Monmon trophy-girlfriending for Feli, Monté-Carlo being a playground for some politician’s inner-circle and rotten 1940s politics.

the background is a royalty-free image that has been altered and redrawn in some aspects- I’ll probably get around to entirely redrawing this some other time ;o;

Feel Me: short story

Pairings: Bucky x (enhanced) reader


Warnings: smut, swearing, anxiety, fluff


After living in New York for little over two years, you had a steady job at a lunchroom. It wasn’t all that glamorous, but you enjoyed it.

The second week in working your new job, in a new city, in a new country even, a man walked through the door just as you opened up shop. He seemed shy and timid, and waited with patience until you finished locking down the doors so they wouldn’t slam shut.

‘Good Morning’ you said with a smile, as you noticed that he still wouldn’t look at you as you spoke. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, he was nervous.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How do you feel about the Arcana and the issue of paying for romance content? I've seen a lot of people talking about how exploitative the system is, and the reaction from the devs has been less than encouraging (they've been flippant and dismissive about people's concern that the extra content would cost upwards of 500 dollars to play all the routes). I want to play, but I'm not getting good vibes from the creators. :/

Uh oh, time for some opinions™.

I’ll start by saying that I’m not against micro-transactions in free-to-play games. I also want to support the creative minds behind The Arcana, as I feel like they’ve created something really special and should be rewarded for that. 

For the sake of transparency, I’ve spent about twenty euros on the game so far -a price I feel comfortable paying, since I’ve spent 60 euros on much worse games. However, I won’t be paying any more than that for now.

I have two main issues with the system. First, the fact that your money essentially disappears unless you buy the books. Anyone in their right mind can see that it’s a ridiculous set-up and not sustainable long term, as it runs the risk of pushing players away. I’ll also touch on the pricing here, and say that it is far too expensive, especially given how frequently the paid scenes come up… But that’s been pointed out many times before.

My second issue lies with what they are actually offering. I don’t mind them putting “extra” content behind a paywall, so long as it doesn’t affect the story. However, there are a number of bonus scenes that I have ignored, and each one left me with awkward storytelling. Those I didn’t ignore always felt important to character development… It’s clear that those who aren’t unlocking them are missing out.

Part of me does want to defend the devs, who I don’t believe are to blame. That’s not to say they haven’t done anything wrong (kickstarter anyone?), but they’ve made it clear that they aren’t at the helm of finances. 

If you look at Nix Hydra’s previous apps (most notable are their emoji packs and… egg games), its clear that they aren’t there to support creative minds in their projects. They want to make money. I’m not saying the devs don’t want to also, but The Arcana feels full of love and thought- far too much for it to have just been a money-grab.  

With that in mind, I think it’s important to stay civil and respectful towards the devs, who don’t control everything- and that they treat their fans in the same way. We are giving them our money, after all, which calls for some sort of professionalism.

I think you can still give the game a go… If not for the developers, then for the characters and the world they’ve created. At the heart of all the drama is a wonderful little game. The (understandable) upset between the greedy higher-ups and the fans doesn’t change that.

Dan and Phil

I feel like Dan and Phil are going to do something so extreme this year that will have the entire Phandom flip out. I mean, 2017 so far is just giving out this vibe that it would be a good year for them. Dan is embracing his feminine side, and Phil is more confident than ever. They’ve been so open about certain things in the last few months, that used to take a year. I’m not saying that they will confirm “Phan” or that they will “come out”. All I’m saying is that they’ve given us so many surprises this year in 2017 and it’s barely about to be May. I just have a feeling that there is something bigger in the future that they have in store for us and I think we should be ready for that, whatever it is.

a thing about veganism that i wish more people would understand is that it’s “as far as possible and practicable.” i do believe that those who are able to go vegan should strive for it as an eventuality, but there are certainly situations where it is not possible and practicable to cut out all animal products. i feel as though people tend to see it as a very black and white issue, when in reality, doing something is ALWAYS better than doing nothing. 

if you have to eat meat for some reason, that’s okay! your well being is the most important thing, after all! but try limiting or stopping dairy intake, switch your hygiene/beauty products to cruelty-free options, don’t buy fur or leather or support entertainment that relies on animal exploitation. even the smallest change in behavior reduces your impact on the world and the animals.

ordinary people

It was hard to not think about what kind of people they were. Not when they laid in their own bed, giant skylight above them in the ceiling, comfortable, aside from some still healing and potentially never healing injuries. The Alliance had put them both on complete administrative duties for a while, with Shepard still regaining her strength, and Kaidan’s leg injury making it unlikely he’d return to active duty for some time. But they were alive. And they were comfortable.

Sometimes Shepard still felt like the sky was always going to be painted with the blood of millions. Every star that they were able to see must have carried plenty of lives around them, and potential planets that were little more than ash and corpses at this point. Things were coming back, but it was slow. It would be a while before Shepard didn’t stop and worry about the lives lost while she took her time trying to end the war. Maybe she never would.

Kaidan reached over and held her hand. His hands were rough, from years of handling guns, of using them with his biotics, the tingle eroding his skin to blisters sometimes. They both had blood on their hands, but she wondered if his kept him awake the way it did for her. Maybe he’d stopped worrying about it after Vyrnnus. Maybe that was the darkest it could get, and everything else was a worthwhile death. There were a lot of maybes.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

Shepard nodded. “Yeah.”

“Me either.”

Keep reading

How To Write Men In Romance Fiction

I have recently come across one of the most fascinating articles published in the recent 2015, written by a man who doesn’t read romance novels, about – you guessed it – Romance Literature! There’s a saying in Bulgarian, which we started using about 15 years ago (I believe it was used in a sketch by a comedian), and it goes like this: “I laugh in the face of tragedy because what else could I do – cry?”

I believe this article gives meaning to that expression in ways I did not think possible.

Now, gender is a stupid thing to begin with, let’s base our conversation on that. Creating a general picture of manhood or womanhood is ridiculously impossible affair, because not only does it vary by culture, it varies by person, and we end up with the bottom line that we all experience gender in unique unquantifiable ways.

Plus, gender itself is a social construct which isn’t even perceived universally as a binary and often is either viewed on a spectrum or a combination of identities which depend on the circumstances. It is Western-centric to perceive it as the dualistic man-woman, and it is blatantly wrong, considering the idea of man versus woman is a religious indoctrination spread by Christianity. If you don’t believe me, please check with the numerous African, and South and East Asian communities who struggle to retain or fight to remember the identities typical of their culture while they’re being bombarded by Western propaganda in the media and religious indoctrination by supposedly well-wishing ministers.

Keep reading

Don’t Break So Easy [Hardy Boyz x Fem!Reader] PART 1

PART 2 : http://it-is-reigning-men.tumblr.com/post/162954732656/dont-break-so-easy-hardy-boyz-x-femreader-part

Summary: Takes place just a while after Matt and Lita’s breakup, sometime in 2006. Y/N has been best buds with the Hardys for years - back before any of you had made it big in the wrestling business and since then you’d made it into several storylines together. Typically, you were simply the backstage supporter of the bunch, not officially part of Team Xtreme yet an undeniable, fan favorite piece to their puzzle; occasionally you teased the crowd and got a little flirtatious with Jeff, since before recent Matt was happily taken by Lita. When Lita breaks Matt’s heart your feelings toward the boys take a major shift that ends with you convincing Jeff of what the best option to comforting the older Hardy might be.

Type: Fluff & Smut! Part 1 Only has implied smut, Part 2 will hold the rest.

Warnings: Nothing really? Poly Relationship (Obviously) and some shade at a few wrestlers for story purposes (not how I necessarily feel about other cameo wrestlers or anything lol) 


TAGS: @easyobsession​ , @vsturgeon5489​ , @wrestlingnoob​ , @womderland-fandom​ , @lost-in-the-stories​ , @brieemode02​ , @nickie-amore​ , @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues , @roguecheneyisbae​ , @fucking-bandsx​ , @c-taylor​, @hardyslynch​ , @jordynmichealsx​ , @velyssaraptor

[Decided to break up my intended one shot story into a couple parts because it’s actually longer than I expected! Hope you don’t mind and I hope you enjoy. I have more written than this so the ending is near btw - lemme know what you all think so far tho!]


“What are you gonna do with that stupid cut out, Matty?”

“Burn it. Ya should burn it out back so we can start a bonfire.” Jeff’s voice cut in from a slight distance, as he was flopped over the length of one of the living room couches.

You threw him an amused look in a sideways glance before focusing back on the older brother, whom was sitting across from you at the kitchen island.

“Like when we were teenagers, right?” You chuckled lightly as you reminisced, though your brows furrowed at the serious look on Matt’s face.

“See, that’d be a good idea, only letting her play any part in our fun now would be too good. Plus, she’d just taint the marshmallows and fuck up our s'mores.” He replied.

You scrunched your nose and crossed your arms.

“When you put it that way— I don’t want that bitch touching anything I put in my mouth.”

Jeff’s leg suddenly appeared, knee hooked around the back of the couch as he yanked his torso up to peek over at you two. He was damn flexible— and currently smirking a smug lil smirk at you.

“Lucky for me, she-who-must-not-be-named never touched me,”

Y/N cocked a brow up at the remark.

“Uuuh huh. I seen her give you plenty of hugs.”

Jeff mirrored your expression and threw a momentary glance down south.

“Not what I meant, sweetie pie.” Normally his adorable accent uttering his nickname for you made you all giddy, but in this case you just shook your head and tried giving Matt a sympathetic look for falling into Jeff’s antics.

The thing was, Matt seemed like he hardly paid attention to the ordeal at all; stranger yet was the slow smile creeping across his face. A small tilt of your head reminded him that you couldn’t exactly hear whatever it was that was going on in his mind.

“I got an idea. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

That idea turned out to be a quite wonderful “reenactment” of the pair’s breakup. Dramatized as all hell but all parts equally hilarious.

The aforementioned cutout was dragged into one of the bathrooms, standing tall just by the toilet (which probably needed some cleaning). It was just the perfect setting for such a high class gal.

Midway through the first part of Matt’s ingenious segment - only just beginning here in the bathroom - you pointed down at the toilet, plugged your nose, and then points at Matt in a silent gesture you hoped he’d understand. As badly as you wanted to say it outright, it would only ruin the entire take.

Matt had seen it in his peripheral vision and wasted no time blurting: “Listen, every time I come in here and need to do a number 2? I’ll leave it in there and then lock the door.”

You nearly fainted, the camera shaking the tiniest bit until another hand came from behind you to steady it. Jeff grinned down at you from over your shoulder before putting a finger to his lips and taking over filming duty. Biting the inside of your mouth to push down your impending laughter, you patted Jeff’s shoulder as a sign of gratitude.

Filming went on for at least a couple hours - mostly cause of all the breaks coming up with what part to do next or the downright shenanigans the three of you ended up getting distracted with, one of which was aggressively having a competition on who could draw the nastiest shit on any one of the Lita posters around the house. Some Matt had actually bought and some either fans or Lita herself had gifted.

Let’s just say you all had livid imaginations and drew much worse things than the classic mustache and devil horns.

“Heh, honestly I wouldn’t doubt that one to be true to size.” Jeff suddenly spoke, gazing down at your newest work of art. On one of the posters you had drawn a rough outline of a dick - a very small and lob sided one - and labeled it in big red letters “EDGE’S WEENER.”

“Unlike his big teeth,” Matt added. “I’d pay money and bet his dick ain’t got nothing on me.”

Yes, the three of you long time friends often got vulgar in your conversations, but perhaps the couple beers along the journey were helping you all along.

“Yeah, I bet. That’s probably why I shot the motherfucker down without even hesitating. Call it female intuition.” You let out a biting laugh, tapping your marker against your chin in thought of what to do next.

Abruptly the low snickers amongst your group ceased, however, and both boys blinked up at your oblivious form.

“Wait-”

“When was this?”

“Only maybe a month ago? Probably less. That bug-eyed blond never knew when to stop trying to impress.”

Matt capped his marker with a certain vigor, boring holes into the pieces of paper piled between you.

“That bastard.”

“Shit. Was that why you rushed into my dressing room so quick? You did seem a little off -” Jeff recalled the memory of your tight greeting hug in a split second, smiling tensely but making a strangely angry expression with his eyebrows. He was glad to remember your encounter but not so with the why.

“But anyway, it doesn’t matter now. If I bump into him anywhere outside of work I’ll be giving him a piece of me alright — my fist up his ass.” Pursing your lips you set your marker down as well, slowly realizing you lost the cap at one point.

Matt balled a fist and sent Jeff a silent look— they both felt a sweep of rage but decided now wasn’t the time to up and track the dude down or anything. The older brother sighed heavily, collecting himself for a short time and rubbing his eyes.

He knew he’d have plenty of time to get back on Edge in the ring.

Meantime, Jeff crawled closer to you, his hands wrinkling the stack of posters on the ground as he did.

“What’re you-”

“Ya got marker on your cheek,” He licked his thumb and deftly reached forward to rub the small dot from your face, lucky it hadn’t fully saturated yet.

Matt cleared his throat and stood up, gathering most of the posters in his arms as he did.

“Alright, I got a better idea.” His voice was a bit gravely, like he was holding something back as his dark eyes lingered on the pair of you (still too close for his comfort) longer than was wise. Jeff dried off his thumb on his shorts and stood too, helping you up by the elbow.

As it were, that ‘better idea’ was probably not the smartest activity for a trio of semi-drunk adults to be doing: target practice on the newly decorated posters; however, sensibility had never stopped you all from having a blast.

“Film this for me,” Matt instructed, snapping the magazine into his handgun and setting the weapon up properly before taking aim for the first shot.

Jeff had officially become cameraman since the bathroom, and stood a safe distance away with you by his side. He threw up his Hardy sign to let Matt know he was good to go.

Matt fired away, at least five shots ringing out and definitely hitting their general mark.

“Daaaang, right in the face!” You praised, at this point caring less and less for the actual video y'all were trying to make for the show. After Matt fired a few more and emptied the thing, you stepped into the frame and got close to him.

“Hey, lemme shoot some.”

“I dunno if that’d be wise, short stuff.” Matt let a half smile creep up when you put one of your smaller hands over the one that was holding the gun.

“C'mon, I went shooting with you before!”

Jeff hit stop on the record button and set the device down on the grass.

“Go on, let her do it, Matt. Who’s it hurtin’?”

Matt’s lips made a straight line and he loosened his grip on the empty weapon. The moment it left his hand completely you felt the full weight of it and had to grip it tighter; playing it off as nothing you watched as he dug the rest of the bullets out of his pocket.

“Alright. I’ll let ya if those little hands of yours remember how to load this up,” He handed over the handful before setting his hands on his hips.

“I have average sized hands. Not my fault your’s are massive in comparison,” His amused grunt only made you more determined to prove him wrong.

After you successfully pressed each of the bullets into the magazine you beamed up at the taller male, and quickly turned your body toward the same target as before. You did remember all the basics and made sure to pull it back and take the safety off—

“There’s a bit of a kick in that one, so you best position yourself better than that,” The aforementioned, massive hands gently nudged your hips so they were aligned with the gun, followed by a light tap from one of Matt’s feet to the inside of your heel to get you to spread your stance a tad.

There was warmth from his chest against your back that caused you to swallow and moisten your oddly dry throat.

“Where’re ya aiming for?” He murmured, his face close but his eyes trained forward.

Did he seriously not realize how this was making you feel?

Only sparing him a lightning fast glance (also noticing Jeff was still standing only ten feet away, tapping his foot sporadically), you took a breathe and squinted your eyes, “Where it would probably hurt the most.”

“The crotch?”

The assumption lightened your mood, but you still let out a harsh huff and readjusted your sin again.

“No, the vagina isn’t the equivalent to your balls— I was thinking more the boobs, if you were a woman and ever been punched in one of em, you’d understand.”

“Hurts that much?”

“I can’t say, I’ve never been kicked in the balls, so,” You retorted snidely, slowly pulling the trigger and - possibly - striking right where you meant. You honestly weren’t sure since Matt wasn’t joking about the recoil on that thing, and you would’ve been rocked had it not been for his body being right behind you.

“Geez,” You rubbed your shoulder lightly, and Matt went to take it away from you. “No, no, I still wanna shoot. You just make it look all easy!”

“I try,” he chuckled, flexing playfully.

“Oh, sure, pretend I’m not here. And you call us lovebirds, huh, Matt?” Jeff straight up whined, his mouth as slanted as his stance.

“Shut up, Jeff. I was just lookin’ out for, Y/N. What are you doing?”

Watching the boys bicker was a favorite pass time of yours, but right now any and all hostilities were to be toward the common enemies. You bumped your hips back, catching Matt off guard when your butt came in contact with his body and pushed him a step away.

Jeff seemed equally shocked if his open mouth was any indicator.

“Thanks, but now that I know what to expect I can take care of it myself. Stop fighting. I just wanna get some prep in before my big match with our guest of honor.”

Matt dusted himself off and pinched the tip of his nose in passing, waving his hand forward to let you continue.

On the next RAW in a couple days you were absolutely sure Lita would be in for a real life beating … no guns, but certainly a truck load of bruises.

You decided to sleepover at Matt’s house for the night, mostly due to both brothers insisting you shouldn’t drive back to your home, even if it was only half and hour away. Jeff was staying over at the house as well, since he had some complaints about just being home alone when he knew his best friends were right across the woods.

“G'night, babe.” You gave Jeff a snug hug, already set for bed in your cotton PJ shorts and black tanktop (which had the Hardy logo printed across it). The casual pet names were half due to the longevity of your friendship and half due to the off and on TV relationship.

“Night, darlin’.” He whispered back, arms squeezing your waist to him before releasing you.

Spinning on your heel you saw Matt partially turned away, hand rubbing his neck.

“Hey, you weren’t thinking of going to bed without saying sweet dreams were you?” Arms spread wide, you shuffled to him and were happily met by a warm embrace.

“'Course not.”

Pulling back from the hug your fingers softly patted his cheek. “Lighten up, kay? You’ll be over her soon enough and I promise to punish her for her sins on RAW.”

“I’m countin’ on it,” Matt smirked shortly, watching while you nodded and skipped off to the guest bedroom.

Just before you swung the door shut, your ears caught Matt cooing ‘Sweet dreams,’ followed by Jeff with a ‘Don’t let the bed bugs bite … too hard,’ closed with a sharp laugh and the sound of a swat to the head.

Once you were gone the brothers were left to themselves in the living room.

“So,”

Matt looked to his brother, who was hesitant on how to continue.

“So?” Matt pressed. “You don’t gotta ask me how I’m doing. I’m fine, really.”

Jeff chewed his lip, staring at his knees when he sat down.

“Yeah, a little too fine. It’s only been a week and you’re already movin’ on, huh?”

Matt’s eyes narrowed. “And you mean what by that?”

“Outside? With Y/N? You seemed like you were awful cozy pressin’ against her like that.”

Offended and surprised, the older Hardy took a step toward the latter, sitting on the chair just in front of him.

“You’re butt hurt over that?”

“Don’t act like that wasn’t something,”

“It was nothing. I thought I told you I was just worried about her,” Matt spoke with a sharp tongue, getting more annoyed when Jeff’s green eyes challenged his own brown ones. Having a baby brother, he was plenty used to brattiness or whatever else, but he’d never seen Jeff act so sensitively.  

“So you’re tellin’ me you didn’t like it the tiniest bit when you had her pressed against you like that? You weren’t blushin’ red when she bumped ya?”

Matt was bewildered by the calm, but biting little jabs, and massaged his temples to keep his cool.

“What - what the hell’s up with you, Jeff?”

“Nothing.” Jeff’s brows seemed to relax, and he ran a harsh hand down his face. “I’m sorry.”

They sat in silence for at least a full minute then.

“…Just be honest with me, would ya?” Jeff almost thought the words were his own, since he had been thinking to say the same thing, only it came from the other.

“Alright.”

Matt cleared his throat, flicking his eyes toward the direction you had disappeared to.

“Do you like, Y/N?”

Jeff’s eyes went downcast at the question, but he knew there wasn’t any chance of him lying. Not to Matt. “If you’re askin’ I think that means you know the answer.”

“Known for awhile. You’re not the best actor—” Matt tried to chuckle, “But whenever it was a segment with her I always believed every word. And even before then it was like you two always had a spark, or somethin’ like that.”

Nearly smiling, but stopping midway, the younger brother moistened his lips to speak. “Funny, I could’ve said the same thing about you.”

There was another silence, only more brief.

“Jeff, I—”

“You don’t gotta explain. I don’t blame you either.”

“No, I wanted to tell you, honestly,” Matt scooted to the edge of his chair, dipping his head and making sure he had eye contact when he said this. “I like Y/N as a friend,”

He truly meant to comfort his baby brother - basically deny his assumptions, set the record straight, and make sure Jeff would end up happy… even if that meant pretending he didn’t care about you the way he actually did. The way that he had only just realized… almost as soon as he’d broken up with Lita.

“But as a woman, I just…”

He truly meant for this to go smoothly and be easy, but then again he really wasn’t a good actor and this was one of the biggest lies he would ever tell. Still… Matt managed, if only because of the increasingly concerned expression melting onto the enigma’s face. Jeff was stressed, swearing he knew what Matt wanted to say.

“— I just love… our relationship now. I can’t picture myself with Y/N, but I can picture her with you.”

Matt’s heart strained against his ribs, beating erratically.

“That’s… that’s good to hear, comin’ from you.” Jeff spoke quietly, such a hurricane of emotions racing through him. As much as he wanted to believe Matt’s words, they both knew that they knew each other too well for that.

The Following RAW Event

You took a deep breath for the hundredth time, tightening the laces on your boots purely out of passing the time and not because you had to.

Your match with Lita was up next since your backstage interview about it already past, but as much as you’d been looking forward to giving Lita a good ass-whoopin’ it was impossible to keep your head focused where it needed to be.

That night you slept over at Matt’s house you had heard everything.

Alright, maybe not every tiny bit, but you’d heard the important parts… at the end. You had opened your door to get the glass of water you’d forgotten on the kitchen counter, but stopped right in the doorway when you heard the tense conversation between your two closest friends.

Needless to say, what you’d heard had left questions for yourself more than anyone else.

Jeff basically admitted he liked you… and not just when you two had segments on TV. And Matt? Matt was basically trying to set you two up but… why did he have to sound like that?

You felt torn between feeling elated that Jeff felt that way, Matt fully supporting it — and feeling hurt that Matt couldn’t even imagine a relationship with you. But you couldn’t even see their faces then and you still didn’t believe a word Matt said.

Was it conceited to believe that both of them might feel the same way about you?

After all these years, you’d always known they were both adorable - well - attractive … above average in personality and looks and you knew all three of you had always been protective of one another but… how had you never considered it being more than that?

And why in earth could you not imagine it only being with one of them?

Fuck.

You felt guilty. Like some skank that just wouldn’t be satisfied —

“Do you need some help with that, Angel Face?”

The last person you had on your mind, Johnny freakin’ Nitro, stood in front of you, eyes going from the toes of your boots upward to your face. Apparently some time in your thoughts you’d managed to untie your laces. The cocky son of a bitch still had on those sunglasses of his, the accessory not unlike the smirk he always wore.

As much as you didn’t care for him, at least his presence - unable to be ignored due to his obnoxious nature - was able to turn your internal dilemma into the fiesty fury that you needed in the ring.

Unfortunately, that brief moment of speechlessness was taken kindly as an invitation, Nitro kneeling down and beginning to tighten your laces and loop them around his fingers; you straightened your leg and pushed him back by the chest, huffing.

“I don’t think I remember saying yes to that help, Johnny.”

“Well, you looked up at me all dreamy so I thought—”

“Never assume what a lady wants.”

His hand rested gently on the underside of your ankle, as if he still thought you’d let him touch you.

You flicked your ankle to have him let go before you propped your leg up on the crate you were sitting on to redo the ties yourself. He still decided to stick around, aside from being given your outright rejection, his eyes still downcast while he stood to full height.

Once your laces were taught you swung your legs off and landed soundly, though Johnny’s body was still too close for comfort. To make matters worse, he leaned over to settle a hand on the spot you’d just been sitting, lowering his sunglasses so he could peek down at you.

“You need something still?” You hissed, rolling out your shoulders and standing your ground, casually.

“Wondering if you were busy after the show, is all, Y/N.”

“Aw, I didn’t know you and Melina were having issues,” You tilted your head, feigning a look of pity.

“Oh, we’re not. But that’s just for the story line, I’m still as single as can be, sweetie pie,” His intent was obvious, he even mimicked Jeff’s drawl — or tried to — when using the pet name Jeff had always used for you.

The tiny detail had you seething more than even you expected.

A loud smack resounded down the near empty hall way, the singular sound joining it coming from Johnny’s glasses sliding across the ground.

“Jesus, I was just trying to be nice to y—”

“Fuck off, Nitro.”

A familiar pair of hands, adorned in black and white arm bands, yanked Johnny the rest of the way away from you, Jeff taking the place at your side.

“Touchy,” Johnny complained, rubbing his reddening cheek. He went to pick up his sunglasses only to have them kicked away by the other Hardy, who was standing stiffly.

“Think you’re better off without the stupid things anyway,” Matt crossed his muscular arms. “Don’t you got an interview with your girlfriend Melina soon?”

Johnny sighed, resigning himself with annoyed crack of his neck.

“I still think you can do better than either of these assholes,” He directed at you over his shoulder, strutting away.

Jeff’s warm hand stroked your arm; your E/C eyes went to him. All your distracted thoughts from before Nitro’s interference started rushing back quick— and you found yourself glancing over at the older Hardy too, pursing your lips uncomfortably.

“You alright?” Jeff asked, not used to you not being so quiet.

“Mhm.” You scratched your shoulder, toying with the strap of your top now.

“That guy messed with you before, Y/N? If he ever over steps again you just tell me, I’ll drop kick him half way across the country,” Matt added, brows knitted together.

“No, that’s why I was thrown off. I took care of it though, and I’ve taken care of worse than him, you guys.”

Jeff wet his lips, “Yeah.. well. You did slap him damn good. If I remember the last time you hit me correctly I know he’ll feel that one tomorrow too.”  

“Lucky I’ve never pissed off Y/N enough for her to smack me.” Matt grinned, noticing your eyes darting between them.

Down the hall toward the curtain, Lita’s theme music finally hit. That was your cue to leave — and as much as you loved your.. friends, you were glad to jump into the ring and let off some steam.

“Gotta go, boys. I’d say wish me luck but I think Lita’s gonna need it more than me.”

Had you mentioned that your match held a no disqualification stipulation?

Well, that was true.

The match between you two women had the crowd riled up for more reasons than one, and had been going on at least a solid fifteen minutes as it were. Lita was catching her breath in the opposite corner to you, rubbing her side that had been gifted several stiff elbows.

You dropped down and rolled out of the ring, debating between a steel chair or a kendo stick.

Thus far the match up was fairly even— not as one sided as you might’ve dreamed; however, you saw red when Edge’s music hit. Creative had warned you of interference, or a possible light distraction, but having been so dedicated to not dying you’d almost forgotten.

Edge didn’t go any farther than half way down the ramp, yelling something or other to his new lady— you wished someone had yelled a warning to you instead though, since the moment your eyes shifted back to the opponent she was already flying over the ropes and tackling you to the ground.

A loud grunt only solidified the pain that shot up your back.

“Damnit…”

A few rowdy fans on the barricade whooped your name, drumming their hands on their knees for motivation.

Getting on your stomach and lifting up your torso with your elbows, you flashed them a thumbs up before crawling to the ring apron to retrieve an item of punishment. Hand reaching blindly, it caught cold steel.

“Hey, Lita?” You panted, glaring up at her form that was limping toward you, “I ain’t apologizing for this either!”

Swinging the chair out without mercy, you swept her legs and got her to her knees; adding three more solid whops to her back before Edge started coming toward you, you smiled wildly and threw the partially opened chair right toward his face, knocking him out for long enough.

You dragged Lita’s wincing body back to the ring, leading her to the center and grabbing a handful of her burgundy hair.

“Do you at least regret what you did to him?”

Your voice was for her, but loud enough for the crowd up front to comprehend.

She dared meet your eyes, “We’re both better off,” she spat.

Figures.

Releasing her hair, you slapped her face with between both hands then spun around to run toward the ropes - push off of them for leverage, then catch her head again for a Twist of Fate homage.

Again, the crowd erupted— that being the first time you ever did one of the Hardy move sets. The chants started quicker, alternating 'Let’s Go Y/N!’ and 'Lita Sucks!’ along with a few out of tune groups still trying to cheer for Lita.  

Both women bounced off the mat, Lita rolling to her back with a groan; that was the perfect time for the next step up — Justice from above, you liked to think, as you ascended the ropes to execute a slightly modified version of the Swanton Bomb.

Once at the top, instead of throwing up the Hardy sign you flipped up your middle fingers, then leaping off in divers form (rather than arms spread like wings), rotating, with your back landing square onto Lita and pumping your fist just as you made contact simply for the extra show of triumph.

Damn, it hurt— but not as much as it felt good to flip around and pin her for the one, two, three.

The ref raised your hand accordingly, giving you a chance to stick your tongue out at Edge as he grabbed Lita’s hand and helped her get backstage.

A loud, excited audience was all a wrestler could wish for, especially when they were on your side— nevertheless, it was a relief to have one problem taken care of tonight. Hopefully your hormonal ass would get shit together about the Boyz soon enough.

Heaving some air back into your lungs as you stepped gingerly down the metal stairs rubbing your lower back, and you touched the outstretched hands of some fans on your way.

One sign caught your attention, and you slowed down to a stop; the woman halted her frantic waving, seemingly flustered when you stared right at it. It was bright green poster, two printed pictures on it: one was of Matt and Lita — though it was crossed out with red strips of paper — and the other was an old one of you and Matt hugging after the first time the Hardy Boyz had claimed tag team gold. Jeff was just by you two as well, slightly blurred since he was in the middle of going to lock you into the iconic group hug (Hardy sandwich).

The hand written text above it read 'THE REAL SHIP.’

“I think you and Matt would be a much better couple! Amazing match by the way, Y/RingName!”

You flushed slightly, high-fiving her and her companions’ hands out of courtesy, so it wasn’t as obvious you were only looking at the poster. One of her friends, smacked her shoulder, trying to get her to lower the poster at least a bit.

“Don’t just bark at her like that, gurl!”

The friend threw you a side long glance, trying her best to put up a brave front and not seem embarrassed. Your brows raised and you waved it off, legs beginning to move again.

“It’s alright, really. Thank you guys!” You addressed, turning your head to the other side of the barricade crowd as well, waving and jogging across to give a few more hand shakes. But before you’d fully moved away, the buddy of the sign holder scolded: “- besides, what if she wants to be with Jeff?”

Some bickering ensued after, but you swallowed hard and tried to scurry off faster after that. Your face held a victorious smile for the fans, but internally you were disoriented and overwhelmed. Felt like everything was caving in all at once, while the world around you was carrying on in perfect harmony.

“You do it better n’ me, Y/N.” Jeff chided backstage, immediately making you feel like you couldn’t escape them even if they weren’t always by your side. Not that… not that you didn’t like it — it just wasn’t as apparent before.

“I wouldn’t say that. Just different. Plus, you don’t hate most of the guys you fight.” The both of you laughed, the sounds meshed together like music.

Their match against the Dudley’s wasn’t for another half hour at least, so that gave them plenty of time to chill around with you — and catering.

“That Twist of Fate had my head spinnin’,” Matt patted your back, smiling that award winning smile just to make your sore knees tingle a little. Fuck.

By the Gods you needed to eat something.

Grabbing some plates and passing one to each of the brothers, you went down the line, pretty much grabbing a little of everything, especially from the small plate of desserts. It might’ve looked bad if it weren’t for the two Hardys trailing behind grabbing just about the same (probably more).

Jeff was shoving some potatoes in his mouth before you all were through, only stopping to look at Matt when he saw the other picking up a bottle of mustard.

“I thought ya—”

“— Why do we even have this here? What do folks eat this with?” Matt was making one of his rare disgusted faces, putting down the bottle with a thud and turning back to you two.

As much as your head was still spinning, there was no denying Matt’s hatred for mustard was always hilarious. Your lips quivered slightly, and you had to bite your lower one to stop the laugh - or worse the snort.

“Well, there are hot dogs right behind ya, Matt.” Jeff pointed, noticing his brother already had one on his plate anyway.

“Mustard shouldn’t taint the sanctity of the hot dog,” Matt defended, over dramatizing and taking a large bite out of said food.

You let out your amused snort, covering your lips as you started giggling. Jesus, it was impossible to hate them. Or even contemplate avoiding them.

What that meant as far as staying just friends? Who knows.

Both men’s faces lit up whenever you laughed without fail, Jeff juggling his plate in his hand and poking you right in your ticklish spot on your side, “What’re you laughin’ about? Pretty sure you have a list of things you don’t like to eat.”

You tried leaning away, clutching your paper plate and trying to salvage your mini feast, “J-Jeff! Stop, or I’m gonna make sure this lands right on you when you make me drop it—”

“Go ahead, I got no problem goin’ out there naked if you ruin my rags,” He shot back, poking both your sides this time after he set down his plate on the catering table behind him. You jumped in your skin, tempted to smash the plate into his face instead, but held on, just till the point Matt plucked the godforsaken thing out of your hand; always the peace keeper that guy.

Okay, not always - not by a long shot - but in this instance maybe it was getting out of hand with all the by standers and other wrestlers staring.

“Hey hey hey, no need to fight over lil’ ol me… ladies.” Matt pushed Jeff away lightly, and Jeff put up his fists, dancing around a bit.

“Oh, it’s gonna be like that? You wanna go again?”

Again, as in just like that Hardy vs Hardy nonsense they’d done for the Hardy Show. (if you haven’t seen either one, you’re missing out). Incredibly over acted, even for a pair of young wrestlers, but the scene before you was starting to look just like it.

Even funnier was the fact Matt was holding both your and his plates still, right up in Jeff’s business.

A short scan of the room and you saw a few people who actually looked concerned, a few people who were used to the banter and ignored it completely, and a few straggling wrestlers who were just going about grabbing their own food.

It was best to let them tussle it out when they were in their playful mode, so you did.

Whistling and crossing your arms behind your back, you let yourself enjoy the moment, or, you suppose: just live for the moment. Stress was for later.

Trish slid an elbow onto your shoulder, surprising you and taking your look away from them.

“Those two are always more wild when you’re around, you notice that?” She cooed, wiggling her brows.

“They’re always freakin’ animals, Trish.”

“I noticed. But when you’re with them it’s like they’re always making a fuss. Maybe they like keeping your attention,” Her blond hair swished over as she turned her head to meet you eye level.

You made a face, “We been friends for a long time.” Though you didn’t exactly hate this chick, you weren’t near BFFs. She was acting all nice now but you’d seen all her sides.

“All the more reason to make a move already,” she whispered to your ear, leaning on you more. “If you don’t step up and claim one of those Hardys, I will, hon.”

At that you exhaled hard, moving your shoulder so she tipped over slightly. She clicked her tongue and fixed her hair again, smirking at the brothers still bantering.

“I already kissed the little one a few times, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some more.” Now sporting that full shit-eating grin, she began

sauntering away with hips a swaying.

Balling up a fist and holding onto your wrist with the other, you deeply fought the urge to deck her for real — you didn’t need to be getting suspended for unnecessary violence now, though.

But damnit if she ever tried making a move on either one of them again you wouldn’t hesitate; everyone knew she got around the locker room. The one thing that put you somewhat at ease was the recollection that Jeff had always complained about being forced to do the storyline with her way back when, followed by some joke (not really) that he’d much rather it be a long term storyline with you. He’d constantly said she was 'pretty, but really not the best person.’

Your fist loosened.

Trish passed right by them and they didn’t even lift a head — likely due to the fact Jeff was putting Matt in a head lock and Matt was trying to weakly elbow him in the stomach, plates somehow still in hand -

Oh.

Spoke too soon.

The two plates spilled onto the floor, food splattering or rolling about — you gasped and hopped over the mess, pulling the two away so they wouldn’t end up slipping and killing themselves before they ever hit the cameras tonight.

They released each other too, grimacing at the waste.

“Look what you crazies did now,” you scolded, the power of it not much since your lips were curled into a faint smile. Everyone in their right mind knew it would happen, but it was still worth it to see their faces.

It so happened a stadium custodian was passing by, rolling their mop and bucket; the spill was spotted and they didn’t seem very amused.

Childish fighting aside, the demeanor of the Hardy Boyz did a 180 with them shuffling between apologizing and trying to lean down and help clean up.

“We’re real sorry, it won’t happen again,” Matt tried first. “It was mostly his fault, but we’ll both clean up.” Jeff finished, using the discarded plate to scoop up a good portion of the scattered bits.

The custodian sighed, using broom, mop, and gloves to do a far more adequate job, ready to mop up after as well.

On a few occasions one or both nearly slipped on stray pieces or condiments, but finally the mess was deleted and they were able to stand straight and steady.

“Just try not to spill more food, alright, kids.” The janitor advised, adjusting their cap.

You knew they hated being called kids or having their youth brought into things- they weren’t even that young anyway - but here they just nodded, honestly embarrassed.

“Won’t happen again, m'am.”

The older woman sighed and nodded, carrying on her way.

Jeff hit Matt in the chest with the back of his hand as soon as she was out of sight.

“M'am? Really?”

“Ah shut up.”

They had put up a typical gentleman front, if only for a few minutes, but couldn’t help maybe rolling their eyes at the way the janitor had acted. It was her job to clean up messes anyway, and it was an accident, so you couldn’t say you disagreed.

“Yo, I’m gonna go to the locker rooms to change. ’M all sweaty and I’d like to be comfortable before my body starts aching too much,” You rubbed your neck, seeing now that everyone had kinda given up on eating at the moment. You lost your appetite anyway.

Jeff crossed his arms.

“Ya big baby. And just cause you took a couple big bumps.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“I’m not as much as a psychotic high flyer as y'all, I’m more down for sweeping out the legs and gettin’ down and dirty instead.”

It was a split second but that small part at the end made Jeff gulp, eyes narrowing. Matt quirked a brow at his brother, anticipating his response. Jeff stepped toward you, not only giving your side one last poke but also shamelessly swiping his other hand over your forehead - which as you said - was a lil sweaty.

“I don’t break a sweat that easy.”

“Oh my god, Jeff! You’re fucking disgusting sometimes,” Giving him a push, the noise you made after was a painful mix of laughing and out crying. “I’m going now. And my match lasted just as long as most of your’s, so we’ll see if you’re totally dry after you go out there!”

“So feisty.” The enigma teased, nose scrunching.

Matt laid a hand on the latter’s shoulder, “If you’re gonna prove it, let’s let Y/N do her thing and let’s go warm up so we don’t lose. You know she won’t let us live it down if she gets a win over us.”

“At least one of you has a little sense.” Your smirk at Jeff melted into a normal smile when you looked over at Matt.

Older Hardy returned that and opened his mouth to add more, only you held up a finger. “A little.”

And you pivoted back on your heel, extending your arms behind your head, holding one elbow first to get a good stretch.

After a few steps the brothers were still at it talking to each other, they never really stopped much, and it was hard to ever imagine them not being a team. You were grateful they let you have your space if you ever needed it, like right now.

You got to the locker rooms and changed out of your ring gear to a comfortable crop top and high waisted, torn jeans. You pulled what you could of your hair into a ponytail too before zipping up your bag and going to chill back in the lobby area.

For the first time that night it felt like you were alone, aside from the passing people backstage and the noise from the monitor that was showing all the current matches as they happened. You felt at home. You felt sore, and at home, but you were still relaxed in your foldable chair.

Closing your eyes, you let your mind wander some.

Jeff likes you.

Jeff, one half of your best friends in the world, likes you.

You would venture to say the other L word but you would never associate it with his feelings for you until he said it himself.

In a way, it all made sense, and you felt foolish not to notice it— Matt even said he knew for a long time. How long, you didn’t know, but you knew Jeff had play flirted with you for years — and you had flirted back. It was like human nature to you, but now that you knew he didn’t see you as a friend well…

You felt your face heat up, suddenly remembering all the small touches and kisses on the cheek you both had racked up with one another, and all the times Jeff had carried you when you were too drunk to stand or otherwise impaired. You supposed some of those occasions didn’t fall into the category of casual friend. Jeff was a wild man, strange in the good ways, but he was a freakin’ sweet heart too.

But on the other hand… and this was the part messing you up the most— you had a similar (albeit lesser) track record with Matt. Before he’d started dating Lita, you two were playful, practically laughed at any joke the other made, and maybe hugged more often than you had to; only after he’d began dating her you two still messed with each other but not nearly as much as before. That was because Matty had class and knew not to go kissing another girl’s cheek all the time when he was committed to a relationship— and there was probably no way he would’ve actually went so close to you and taught you (hands on) how to shoot properly if Lita had been around still.

And why did Matt not seem so sad after breaking up with a 6-year girlfriend? Mad, sure. Vengeful at his fake, close friend Edge? Sure. But after they broke up and Matt got all that well-expected rage out in yells and curses… he cooled down. He was carrying on relatively well for how much he had always said he loved her.

And you?

You were noticing things differently now that Matt was single again; for forever he was off the table, you were fine with it because he was happy and that made you happy, but now you felt more flustered whenever he touched you. And you always wanted to stare longer when he smiled.

You were a grown ass woman, he was still your friend, and you were reacting like some inexperienced girl.

Your arms fell over your eyes while you leaned back in the chair more.

You loved them.

Your foot stomped, shoving your gear bag away in frustration.

You fucking loved the Hardys.

How was that gonna work? In your dreams, maybe.

Finally, you were back in your hotel room.

While you were off your game dreaming, beating yourself up, and rolling your face into the pillows, it was soon apparent that Jeff had been thinking about you just as much - only less pathetically.

It was probably around midnight, since everyone from RAW would’ve only just gotten back sometime after 11, when he rapped on your door.

You unlocked it and cracked it open, squinting your eyes at the dimly lit hallway as if you’d just been sleeping.

“Sorry, were you already hitting the hay for the night? I can talk to ya tomorrow,” Jeff blurted, hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“Ah, no. No no, I was just… lying down.” You shrugged, opening the door fully and letting him close it behind him. “I’m sore and I haven’t even gotten a chance to clean up yet.”

“And I know you can’t sleep unless you’re clean,” Jeff said, plopping down on the edge of your single bed.

“Yeppers.” You sat on the corner of the bed, only a couple feet separating the two of you. You were good at keeping a poker face, thank god, and were fairly confident you didn’t look like you’d just come to terms with the fact with your best friends.

Jeff wasn’t making it easy to stay all laid back, however, with the way he was fiddling with his chipped nail paint.

You pushed off the hands you were leaning back on, crossing your arms on your knees. “Jeff?”

“I wanted to let you know that… if any guy makes a move on you, and you don’t like him, you should tell me. Or tell Matt. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep it to yourself just because you can handle it.”

You were quiet.

He glanced at you nervously, expecting your voice.

“Nitro’s been giving you looks for the last couple weeks, but what he did today wasn’t okay.”

You frowned, “I get a lot of looks from the guys. We all travel together and for some reason a lot of them think they can get with any female wrestler they want—” you lightly punched his arm. “I blame those 'ol bra and panty matches.”

Jeff coughed out a laugh, but tried getting serious again; his hand laid over your’s, which had settled back on the bed space between you.

“Yeah, I know. But just tell me if anybody makes you uncomfortable. I can’t stand the thought of any creep puttin’ his hands on you.”

You swallowed, slowly turning your hand so it was palm up to grip Jeff’s hand. Both of your palms were a little sweaty, but it was okay.

“Thanks, Jeffro.”

His tongue darted out to moisten his lips again, something he did when he was anxious, and his eyes trailed from your hands up to your face.

“Y/N… this is.. ehm… maybe an immature question to ask but,” He slowly snaked his hand out of your’s, wiping it on his pants, mumbling a soft sorry.

“Have you taken interest in any other wrestlers?” His eyes darted to your’s and he continued, as if to correct some terrible wrong. “If you do then Matt and I, we’ll know who not to beat up if he tries gettin’ with ya, ya know?”

That was adorable. And it made you rethink if he really liked you too or if he wanted you to be with someone else so he could be rid of a crush.

Your only answer, though, staring right into those pretty green eyes of his was simple (but with several meanings behind it): “Not that I can say, no.”

Because goddamn if you said who it was you did like - Jeff would probably think bad of you. Who on earth loved two people at the same time, right? One was a guy who just got out of a relationship and the other was his brother who was right… right in front of you.

As in, closer than before.

Your felt warm again, and you realized now it was because Jeff was leaning closer to you, his hand pressing into the sheets right by your hip, his face hovering just -

“Please don’t hate me for this, I just -” He rushed out the words, each breath against your parted lips until he closed the agonizing space.

His lips were tender— a pillowy press against your own even if they were slightly chapped. His eyes were closed tight, his body was tense; a true picture of a man who thought this was the only kiss he’d ever get from the one girl he actually cared for.

But it would be a crime if this was the only kiss you ever shared. Your body decided that before your mind had time to second guess it.

Jeff almost started to pull away, the pressure of his mouth lessening for a millisecond; but your fingers curled around his upper arm, keeping him leaned in. It just felt so… right. It felt like you’d kissed before.

His eyes snapped open and clashed with your half-lidded gaze. You two parted with a faint sound.

“You kissed me back.” He muttered.

Your heart thudded loudly in your ears while you nodded.

“Seems that way, smart one.” You flushed and bit the corner of your lip. If this was a dream you really were going to hell.

His forehead laid against your’s, and he eyed your lips.

“…That mean you’ll go out with me, sweetie pie?”

Oh, now you did feel giddy again. Somehow the way he said it then was more affectionate than ever, you felt like exploding.

“Yes. Fuck yes.”

All the nerves had left the building, neither of you able to break eye contact before your lips meshed again and again and again. That night you felt happier than you’d been able to in far too long.

And maybe that was attributed to the fact Jeff made you forget how sore your body was with… certain distractions. It was a good night and you had a little sleep over with Jeff, is all you could say.


[Yip. Might write what happened that night with Jeffro if peeps want it. ;) I’ll add the link to Part 2 when it’s all done!]

Sinners ~ Greed

Author: completedylantrash

Characters: reader x Stiles

Rating: NSFL 18+ EXPLICIT SMUT

Word Count: 5062

A/N: This part is a little more…soft than the previous. So here is Part 5 of the series that @smutandahalf and I have been writing together. Enjoy ya filthy sinners ;)

Part 1 Envy |  Part 2 Pride |  Part 3 Wrath | Part 4 Gluttony 


As I lay here, listening to Stiles’ heartbeat, Isaac’s words echo over and over in my head. I can give you so much more than he can. I hope you don’t regret this. Will I regret this? Yes, Stiles is a fucking God in bed, not that I’ll ever admit that out loud, but so far that’s all I’ve gotten from him. We don’t talk about our feelings, which is kinda fine with me. Ugh…feelings. I’m not a feelings kind of person. I think if you care about people, you should be able to tell how much they care by their actions. Not having them tell you a million times that they love you. But, I will admit, it’s nice to hear the words every once and awhile.

Keep reading

Heartbreaker ( iii )

<< Heartbreaker ( i )

Group: BTS

Request: hi! can you do an imagine based off of the song undercover by kehlani with tae? ty! –

Pairing: TAEHYUNG X READER

Excerpt: “I’m changed.”

Genre: angst

Length: 0.8k

A/N: an alternative not so happy ending


"I’m not the same,” the neon lights from outside the corner store turned his dishevelled hair a vibrant orange, “Babe, I’m changed!” Taehyung looked frantic, his usually calm demeanour had melted the second you had walked out on him.

Even now you could see the smile that threatened to spread across his face, he wasn’t taking you seriously. “Look at me Tae,” your voice was steadier than your heart that had refused to slow since he spammed your phone with calls and texts, “I will only say this once. I’m not going back.”

A tear slid down your face and be moved to wipe it from your cheek, but as he moved forward you were already backing away with a slight shake of your head. Before you turned you sent him one last look of despair, “I’m sorry.”

Those words were more than just an apology, it was a goodbye and your final show of love to him. Taehyung had gone too far that night, and only a week later you realised what had happened that stormy night was wrong.

Taehyung frowned. His mouth pulled into an uncharacteristic scowl as he was reminded of his actions, “but you said you forgive me.”

“And I do,” you could feel your heart breaking but you knew this is what should have happened straight away, “but that doesn’t mean I still feel the same way about us."It was hard to break up with someone you still loved.

But you couldn’t stay like this; sleepless nights wondering if it was the first time or remembering him ask you to quit your job. For some reason you had blamed yourself, but it wasn’t you.

It was taehyung who had blamed alcohol for allowing another woman to touch him sexually; Yoongi who had unconsciously pushed you in the wrong direction to benefit his friends, Jeongguk who had demanded forgiveness and the blame. You refused to look up, almost scared to see his reaction; fear, sadness, anger, hatred, love.

Your love of him scared you, "bye tae.” The sound of your feet hitting the floor echoed in the silence, you held your breath scared to hear him run to you or burst into tears.

Instead, Taehyung shouted after you, “I’m changed.” He might have been telling the truth, it was true he had been extra good to you recently and yet you knew you still needed space.

Maybe you would end up running right back into his arms, but right now you wanted, no, you needed time to understand what had happened and how that had changed your relationship.

You didn’t turn back as you climbed into your car, and only one tear slid down your cheek; you had broken his heart as badly as he had broken yours.

My main problem with The G-Club

My main problem with the G-Club, as a podcast, is that it’s a little too focused on specific topics, which I feel makes it a little bit hard for people to access if they’re not already knowledgeable about the topic.

For example, recently they posted an episode about Shin Godzilla with Dan and Arin. I thought “hey, great! a podcast with my two favourite internet boys talking about a neat film” except the problem is that immediately, within the first 5 minutes, they said that if you’ve not seen the film you should go watch it first, then come back and listen to the podcast. Now I do agree, this is pretty logical, they just don’t want to ruin it for people, and that’s completely fair.

The big problem here though is that most of the episodes of the G-Club are like this. 

They’ve done episodes on Baby Driver, Spiderman Homecoming, Metal Gear, ARMS,  Splatoon 2, Game of Thrones, and a load of other stuff, that unless you’ve already seen the movies/played the games, kinda means that you have to go out of your way to go see a movie/play a game first to listen to the podcast without having anything ruined for yourself. This does effect some things more than others, some of them have fewer spoilers and such, and there’s generally less consequence to listening to some of the podcasts if you’ve not seen the film or game in question.

Let me compare it to another podcast, the SuperMegaCast. SuperMegaCast is a much simpler yet wider format where Matt and Ryan (from SuperMega, just in case anyone wasn’t quite sure) and occasionally a guest, just sit and talk about quite literally anything, from the news, to games, to films, to their own lives, and so on and so forth. SuperMegaCast is good in this sense because you don’t have to do a load of reading up on something to get what they’re talking about, its just listen to them talk for and discuss a range of things for about an hour, and if they do talk about something you don’t know about, chances are they won’t talk about it for long. I feel like this is a drastically more accessible format because its so much more open and far less linear than the G-Club. 

I hope this gets my point across. The G-Club is definitely not bad and SuperMegaCast isn’t the BEST PODCAST IN THE PLANET but I wanted to explain why I’ve not been able to get much out of the G-Club. I mean sure, if you have seen all the things they talk about on the podcast, great, go you, enjoy the podcast. I just feel like it isolates out a lot of people who may not be into specific franchises or whatever who want to enjoy a Grump podcast. I’m not saying they should scrap the whole formula but I do think they should try and have a focus on more than just one thing as the main topic of discussion for an episode.

The thing is, I’m just kinda tired of seeing a new G-Club episode in my sub box, getting all happy, then immediately seeing its about something I’ve not seen and having to think “okay, guess I’ll give this one a miss too” which is something I’ve had to do for a majority of them. I haven’t been able to watch one for weeks because of this. I don’t really see enough movies, I’ll be the first to admit, but it just seems so unnecessarily isolating to talk about ONE thing for an entire podcast instead of just making it one OF the things you talk about.


you can send your hate mail to my inbox or asks or whatever it is tumblr uses xoxoxox

Making Breakfast in His Shirt- Yongguk, Himchan, and Daehyun

Part of Making breakfast in his shirt

Part I, Part II

Versions:

B.A.P:  Part I, Part II; BTOB: Part I, Part II ; BTS {Coming soon}; Got7 {coming soon}; and VIXX {coming soon}

Sexual references

Send me y’all‘s requests though <3 Enjoy~!

Credit to gif owner

xoxo

Keep reading