why do i have to taint you with art work. ;a;

The Problem With Cringe Culture

From what I’ve seen, the phenomenon dubbed Cringe Culture is a paragon of insecurity, internalized misogyny, and self-loathing.

Let me elaborate a little here:  here on Tumblr (and in life in general, honestly), a lot of folks are very pre-occupied with what is or isn’t Cringey.  It’s a dynamic somewhat reminiscent of an eighth grade schoolyard, but that’s really not the issue here.  

What Tumblr folks dub Cringey are typically things that are enjoyed by young teens (in particular, young girls) exploring fandom and fan creativity for the first time.

Yes, these teens are frequently obnoxious, overzealous, and loud, but it’s an exciting time for kids:  we as adults may have comfortably settled into our interests, but for them it’s an avenue of unsupervised self-expression they may not have experienced before.  Moreover, they have little to no experience in moderating themselves, which is one of the reasons why I believe the act of mocking them to be a somewhat callous one.  

Are they occasionally annoying?  Subjectively, yes.  I frequently find young teens and tweens annoying, particularly when they’re being loud and obnoxious during my allotted writing time.  But I don’t shame them for it, on here or in real life, because I’m an adult and they are literally children .  

And most importantly, so are the people mocking them.

I’ll elaborate once again:  I’m nineteen.  Most of my friends, both on here and on my other blog, are fellow chill late teens and twenty-somethings.  And I’ve never seen any adult who’s secure in their own self-image do anything other than Do Their Own Thing and allow everyone else do the same.

In other words, I’ve been involved in fandom for a few years now, and almost everyone I’ve seen actively participating in cringe culture has turned out to be no older than seventeen or so themselves, and probably (consciously or otherwise) attempting to distance themselves from their “embarrassing” younger alter egos and feel more confident in their purported maturity. 

Because they probably did some Cringey things when they were fourteen, too:  maybe they drew manga OCs on DeviantArt with needlessly elaborate hair, ran a passionate SuperWhoLock blog, read Homestuck, wrote angsty poetry about turning into wolves, et cetera.  

Of course, the whole point here is that there is literally nothing wrong with any of these things:  they’re harmless examples of children exploring revenues of creativity for the first time, that we’ve been conditioned to find embarrassing.  

Now, I’m not going to pretend I didn’t have this phase myself:  I once got into an impassioned argument on Facebook with a bunch of One Direction fans when I was sixteen or so, in which I dismissed their obsession as being Stupid and Juvenile and proclaimed my favored Heavy Metal as being far superior.  

Now, I’m still not into One Direction in the slightest, but if I could go back in time I would probably smack my sixteen-year-old self upside the head and tell her to leave people alone and let them do their own thing.

Of course, a large part of my reasoning was also driven at the time by my unfortunate Not Like Other Girls phase, in which I wanted to distance myself from the silliness of my fellow teen girls as much as possible.  I may or may not have still been in my “I hate pink” phase, which I still shudder to think about to this day.

Which brings me to another one of Cringe Culture’s more problematic aspects:  it’s inherently a little misogynist, in that almost everyone who partakes in it is attempting to distance themselves from the interests of teenage girls.

Shows like Doctor Who, Steven Universe, Voltron, Supernatural, Yuri on Ice, and many others all have passionate and predominantly young female fanbases, and as such, people seem unwittingly inclined to see them as inherently vapid, annoying, or Cringey in a way that equally vocal male-dominated fandoms simply aren’t.  

Even being a Trekkie (Star Trek fan) was considered embarrassing when the fandom was predominantly female populated, although the means by which fanfiction and discourse was exchanged was via fan-run zines rather than Tumblr blogs.  Now that men are in on it, it’s considered one of the best fandoms there is.

More male populated fandoms such as Game of Thrones, the Walking Dead, the DC and Marvel cinematic universes, and Star Wars are just as impassioned, and have had just as many ideological issues in the past.  Yet are these things ever denigrated as being Cringy or annoying?  Not that I can recall.

Another one of my greatest issues with Cringe Culture is that it discourages passion:  I have never encountered a fandom, Cringey or otherwise, that hasn’t produced genuinely stunning works of art and fiction.  Moreover, I’ve never encountered a fandom that doesn’t have fans who have cited it as what saved them from depression or even suicide.  

So if someone’s passionate about something, even if it’s something of no value to you, it costs absolutely zero dollars to mind your own goddamn business and not taint their joy with your own insecurity, cynicism, and internalized self-loathing.  

Similarly, I can speak from experience when I say my interests and fandoms got me through the very worst period of my adolescence, and I’d be a significantly less happy person if I didn’t have still have them to fall back on.  Not everyone’s sole source of enjoyment and comfort in life comes from nihilistic memes.

So if you want to take a step towards fostering a more creative generation, take a step away from Cringe Culture.  Respect other people’s interests, and openly and unabashedly enjoy your own.  Question why you think certain interests are Cringey, and try to distance yourself from the mentality that you’re a better or cooler person for being less similar to young women.

And finally, try and forgive your fourteen-year-old self for whatever cringiness they may have been culpable of, and tell them that you love them anyway.

Kalopsia (M)

» the belief that things appear more beautiful than they are.

Summary: Jungkook’s a photographer who has a knack for finding the beauty in the simple things.
Word Count: 10,623
Genre: Photographer!Jungkook + angst/smut/fluff 
Warnings: Mentions of death 
A/N: Based on this song. This is incredibly long, and I’m sorry.

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I was about 5 when I had already realised that I was never going to marry a man, and wanted a wife instead. This was the mid-80s. There was nothing on television that adequately reflected how I saw my future. Then in 1984, when I was 7, along came a tv show called Kate & Allie, it featured two College friends who had drifted apart and re-connected after their divorces. They lived together with their three children in a New York City apartment.  Kate was the free spirited ex-hippie type, whilst Allie was the more straitlaced pearls and proper decorum type. Together they made an opposites attract kind of couple.

It was the only show at the time that even vaguely reflected the life I wanted. It was no surprise that the show built up a lesbian following, a sit-com with two attractive, competent, hilarious female leads, bringing up three children together.

I was devoted.

Until they seemed to get wind of how this was coming across to the audience, what followed was one of the most condescending 25 minutes of television I have ever watched.

They “addressed” the issue of any implied lesbianism by airing an episode that featured the protagonist’s landlady, a lesbian, saying that they would have to pay more rent as they were two families living in a one family apartment, unless they were actually one family, i.e. Kate & Allie were lesbians. What followed was a convoluted and patronising episode that concluded with the pair schooling their lesbian landlady on what constituted a family.

I never watched another episode.  Even at that age I understood the message they were sending me.

Cagney & Lacey was another favourite amongst lesbians, two badass women, who could hold their own in a macho environment that is the epitome of old school boy’s club. They were intelligent, tough, and still empathetic.  They were the kind of women I wanted to see around me.

But yet again, as the show carried on, it was deeply imparted to the audience how much Christine Cagney loved sex with men, and hardly an episode went by where there wasn’t a scene of Mary Beth and Harv kissing and more.

It was to remind us, these women might be playing in a man’s world, but they are still all about the dick.

Lucy Lawless, the incredible Xena: Warrior Princess, was very aware of the huge lesbian fanbase that the show had, in part due to the extensive volumes of fanfiction written about Xena and her bard sidekick Gabrielle. Lucy and co-star Renee O’Connor were deeply respectful of their fans, and giving them as much as they could with their on-screen interactions within the framework of the scripts. It was only as the show was ending that they were told that the characters were each other’s true loves. A point they addressed by saying that had they known earlier, they would have played the parts more explicitly loving, and would have made sure it had been more explicit to fans earlier in the show’s six year run. Their disappointment at not having known sooner was palpable and displayed a deep respect that they had for their LGBT audience.

Fast forward a few years, and in the post Beth Jordache era, we had Bad Girls, a UK women’s prison drama that featured straight Prison Governor, Helen Stewart, fall in love with one of her prisoners, Nikki Wade, it was a sweet story, and one of the few with a relatively decent ending. The actresses displayed grace and empathy when dealing with their fans, even appearing at a London pub after a Leicester Square movie premiere to sign autographs for a pub full of lesbian fans. I saw that it was possible for fans to be embraced and treasured, which to me made me feel like we had turned a corner from being scorned, ridiculed and patronised. We even had our own tv show, The L Word, which as flawed as it is, seemed like a massive step to media acceptance.

Post L Word, it is almost like we are being punished, almost every lesbian character on tv seems to either die or have an affair with a man(wtf?).

The past few years, scrolling through my tumblr feed is like a journey in joy and heartbreak. Watching the younger generations get excited over wlw characters, only to have to mourn the loss of them a short time later.

I never watch a tv series when it comes out now. I wait.

I wait to see where the arc is going. I wait to see how we are going to be treated by the cast and studio who make it. I have been burned a few too many times in the past, and only a couple of those many times have been recounted here.

These shows taught me from a very young age to pick and choose carefully what I watched, and that I could not rely on the mainstream media to cater to my needs.  This is where fanfiction, fanart and fantasy come in. We learned how to take the characters and make our own stories with them, the myriad websites dedicated to fanfiction/art are a testament to that, and to our resourcefulness as viewers. After all, amazing fanfiction is still being written about Seven of Nine and Captain Janeway, and Olivia Benson and Alex Cabot (to name just two ships), characters who haven’t shared screen time in many, many years. Our love for these characters and their chemistry is enduring.

What we deserve though, are fully realised relationships between characters on screen, not scraps, not looking for every nuance in interaction. We can still do it, we are very good at it, we have had decades of practice after all. It is probably something we will always do, it is almost as though it is in our genes to be able to see the unspoken tensions and subtleties.

But it is so nice to have shows where this isn’t necessary, where you can just relax and watch the relationship unfold, without having to work to find those precious moments.

This was why I have loved watching the gifs and screencaps of shows like Carmilla, Wynonna Earp, Grey’s Anatomy and Supergirl cross my dash.

Knowing that there are generations younger than me who haven’t had to be so patronised and condescended to by the media, but who are actually being catered to.

To see Chyler Leigh be so enthusiastic in her representation of Alex Danvers, and her deeply moving responses to stories of the fans. It made my heart soar to see this. So I thought I would be safe with Supergirl, I watched the first season and was drawn in, I was waiting eagerly to buy the second season on DVD when I saw the footage from SDCC 2017.

To some, I know it is easy to brush aside, to wait for it all to blow over. They don’t have the history of being invalidated and condescended to.

To me, what I was watching, was deliberate, and unnecessary and cruel. It reminded me of the popular kids at school bullying those who are already society’s outcasts and unwanted.

To say you are an ally and trot out your ally credentials, is meaningless if your behaviour speaks otherwise. To mention when you are apologising for your bad behaviour, how badly you are being treated and how unfair it is, is ridiculous. Take responsibility.

To me, the whole spectacle was sad and left me hurting for the younger viewers who were experiencing the same things I experienced so long ago, knowing that even if you find somewhere you think you belong, there will always be those who don’t want you there, who will make that space unsafe for you. There is a reason why the concept of safe spaces is so large in the LGBT community, it is because we don’t have many.

What I won’t do is put my time and money into a show that devalues me, or who employs people who do. (To be clear, I am not insisting that others do not watch the show, you do you, boo boo).

I was heartened by the reactions displayed by Katie McGrath and Odette Annable at SDCC, who along with Chyler Leigh and Floriana Lima have been amazing ambassadors for their characters (Odette excepting as we have not seen her screen time, but her displays of solidarity with Katie were invaluable as an LGBT viewer), and make me long for a spin off with these four cast members.

The show has been tainted for me, and I won’t watch it, not when there are other shows that are not treating their LGBT characters and viewers poorly, so Wynonna Earp and The Bold Type, here I come, please don’t let me down.

Yoongi Scenario: Tainted Love - Part 8.

Request: Could you make one with Yoongi being some sort of demon/vampire boss that every one is super scared of but then there is Y/N, Yoongi is in love with her and everyone is always super impressed how Yoongi always surrenders and softens when something is about her? He’s super protective and wants to please her in his own way, thank you for doing this i love you

Summary: Demons are merciless, demons are ruthless, demons can’t hold nothing dear to them. Yoongi is the leader, the king of the demon world. He is feared as he is respected, no one expected him to bring a human girl as his lover, you. You fell in love and now you are in the midst of adjusting to the demon world, its custums, and its dangers. But everything is worth it if is for him, the demon king that lives between shadows and that would turn hell apart to protect you.

Demon AU. Featuring all BTS

Genre: Romance / Drama.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 9


It was obvious after that day that something had happened. At least to Yoongi’s inner circle it was, as some of them has already insinuated it and had made comments about it. You were having none of them which kind of confirmed it, and as for Yoongi, he was being himself, but worse.

You only had one week left until your vacations were over, and even thought you could go and just leave things as they were, you didn’t want that. You wanted an apology from Yoongi, you felt that after what he had said and the way he was being you deserved one. So you decided to stay in the manor for the little free time you got, Yoongi didn’t oppose of course, he just went on with his duties as normally as he would any other day, but you knew him, you could notice that he was going out of his way to be colder with you, to spend as much time as he could out doing who knew what since you wouldn’t be asking, why would you? You didn’t want to hear him saying that you should stick to your business, not saying anything since he was angry.

You frowned, well this was your business. If it was for you to stay put inside then it also was for you to know and be informed about what happened. Before Yoongi wouldn’t have a problem in telling whatever, but the last few days he was giving you as much insight as a rock would.

You rolled in bed seeing his bare back in front of you, the bed was big enough for you to sleep without touching, even still you always found yourself waking up closer than you had been before. In other circumstances you’d run the tip of your fingers down his spine, up and down until he woke up, he’d grumble and groan at first but then he’d turn around and put you to his chest, holding you tight enough for to not move away from him. You wanted that, but you didn’t move your hands to touch him. 

After you went to the bathroom you were surprised to find Yoongi still in bed, could demons be exhausted? You supposed they did, if they slept then that meant getting tired, maybe he was too tired lately. You wouldn’t find it odd with how busy he had been.

You crawled to bed once again and your eyes were drawn by the katanas on the wall, getting on your knees you took one, it surprised you how light it was, you had figured it would be heavier since it was after all a blade, but it wasn’t like you had held any other sword before so it was natural for you to be in awe. You looked at it, elegant, curved and slender, much different from Taehyung’s swords that looked sturdy and heavier. The scabbard was made in lacquered wood with flowing lines and spring flowers carved on it, the same lines showed in the handle as well, it was a true work of art and you wondered what the blade would actually look like.

-Put that down, you’re going to cut yourself-

Frowning you looked at Yoongi who was now turned to you, his lean body barely covered by the blankets, his hair was tousled but he still looked pretty hot like that. You huffed and kept looking at the sword.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt 'im sorry i accidentally kissed you after playing house for bellarke

For you, nonny! This one got away from me, too. I’m not good at short drabbles apparently, but hey, who cares! Enjoy!

*

Bellamy’s life is perfectly together for the first time since he was five and his sister was born. She’s off at school and he’s only working one, stable job that makes enough for him to live comfortably. It took a while to get here, but he’s enjoying the freedom and the lightness. No longer does he hold the weight of the world on his shoulders. So leave it to Clarke Griffin to completely ruin his bliss.

He’s cooking breakfast for himself on this fine Saturday morning when she barges into his apartment (why he thought it was smart to give her a key, he doesn’t know) and asks him to be her fake boyfriend.

Which is problematic for him because he’s spent the last three years wanting to be her real boyfriend. They met in college, forced to work together on an art project (he took it because he needed another elective, and she’s an art major) and despite not getting along at first, they became best friends. Mostly because she’s a spitfire and he’s a dick and somehow the universe just knew the two of them would cause chaos together. It works. He’s been half in love with her for most of their relationship but the timing has never been right, whether one of them isn’t available or he just completely chickens out. Not to mention she calls him her friend all the time and while he’s not the kind of guy to believe in the friend zone, sometimes it’s really hard not to.

“What?” He asks stupidly, holding his spatula in mid-air having been distracted from his egg flip.

“My mother is coming into town and I need to prove to her I have my life together despite having not gone to med school,” She hops onto his counter and reaches over to his plate of bacon to snag a piece.

“But you don’t have your life together,” he says before swatting at her hand as she goes for another piece, “Quit eating my food!”

She pouts her lip and pulls her hand back with a sigh, “Thanks for reminding me. I just need to create the illusion I do, which includes using you as my significant other.”

“Why would having a boyfriend somehow mean you have your life together?”

She’s batting her eyelashes at him now, which always means she wants something ridiculous, “Well…maybe not just a boyfriend. Maybe a boyfriend…i live with?”

He drops his spatula with a loud clang, “You can’t be serious.”

She grasps his arm with both hands, “You’re my best friend, Bell! Help me look less pathetic!”

He still feels a slight twinge at the word friend but pushes it down, “Let me guess, you don’t want your mom to see what kind of travesty you live in?”

She lives in a small studio apartment that has no working air conditioning and also tends to get a mice infestation every few months. It’s pretty awful. They usually always end up at his place to hang out and, okay, she’s slept over on more than one occassion but always in the guest room!

“Also that.” She confirms for him and he shakes his head at her antics. He knows he’ll regret it, but if he’s completely honest he misses the company. He’s not fond of living alone and his place has felt eerily empty lately. It’s a dangerous line, doing the whole fake boyfriend thing especially when feelings are involved on his end, but she makes it very hard to say no.

When he agrees, the smile on her face makes it all worth it. God, he is so screwed.

*

It’s surprisingly easy to fall into domestic bliss with her, which doesn’t exactly help his case at all. The day before her mother comes, Clarke comes over with a bag full of items to make the apartment look more ‘equal’. She’s going for a very convincing argument. Pictures of them have been scattered around the place, some in the living room and a couple in the bedroom. She always forces him to take picture when they’re out so most of them are drunken one am photos. She’s taken over his bathroom placing her hygiene products all over the shower and hair products on the counter.

“Is that necessary?” He asks as she hangs a few dresses in his closet for good measure.

“I’m trying to be thorough,” She replies. By the time she wears herself out, it definitely looks like they live together. He has to admit, she’s dedicated. He also doesn’t mind having her stuff around. Having her around…

Things go relatively smooth from there. Her mother arrives and is friendly enough to him. She actually seems impressed which makes something like pride swell in his chest. It’s a nice apartment in a nice part of the city and while Clarke has mentioned her mother being a snob, he’s still satisfied by her approval.

Being best friends has given them a comfort around each other that has only been beneficial. They touch each other freely and it’s not weird and quite honestly, from the outside anyone could see they are a couple. He tries to build Clarke up to her mother, mentioning small successes she’s had with her art and okay, maybe, fabricated a little. Clarke beams at him as he dotes on her and everything feels natural.

It gets a little weird when they remember they’ll have to sleep together in the same bed. When she walks out of the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt he genuinely thinks about throwing himself out the window because she looks so beautiful standing there and yet they aren’t like that. Pretending to be her boyfriend has been easy but her mom is asleep and they don’t need to pretend anymore.

“I can put shorts on,” She says awkwardly tugging on the end of her shirt. Clearly she hadn’t thought this through before walking out.

“I’ve seen you naked, remember?” He tries to ease the tension but that might have been the worst thing to say, “Remember when I had to carry you home after the whole Finn dilemma?”

It seems to work, “Ugh, don’t remind me. That was not my finest moment.”

She had managed to get so drunk, standing was nearly impossible and he had to take her home. She puked on herself and like the knight and shining armor he is, he managed to bath her and change her before putting her to bed. She told him she loved him that night, but he’s not sure she remembers. He definitely didn’t bring it up.

She crawls into bed with him and they fall into an easy silence. He lies on his stomach and is just beginning to drift off when she says, “Thank you again, by the way. You didn’t have to help me, you know?”

He’s groggy when he responds, “You’re lucky I love you.”

His eyes snap open when he realises what he said and holds his breath.

She laughs gently, “I love you, too.”

Too bad, he thinks to himself, if only she meant it in the same way.

*
It’s gets weird. And confusing. The following night he is in the kitchen cooking dinner for everyone when Clarke gets back from her walk with Abby. She joins him in the kitchen while her mom showers and he laughs when he sees the newly formed sunburn tainting her pale skin.

“Forget the sunscreen, princess?” He teases and she smacks him playfully on the shoulder.

“I didn’t think we’d be outside all day…” She mutters miserably, poking at the skin on her arm.

“Clearly,” he laughs before moving to the refrigerator to grab some aloe. He squeezes the goo onto his fingers and gently rubs it onto her skin. She watches him carefully, like she’s surprised by the intimate gesture.

“All good,” he says wiping the excess onto the dish towel next to him.

“Thanks, honey,” she coos and before he can react she pecks him on the lips.

He’s frozen, his lips burning from the contact. It was an innocent kiss but he felt it all the way to his soul.

Her eyes widen, “Shit…I–”

His mind is racing. Did she mean to do that? Does she know how he feels about Her? Does she feel the same? She regrets it, doesn’t She? He fucked up. This plan was stupid.

“Smells good!” Abby compliments as she enters the room and suddenly the moment is over. They step back from one another and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“I interrupted something, didn’t i?” Always the perceptive one.

He tries to make light of it all, “I was just telling Clarke about the benefits of sunscreen.”

Just like that, the moments over. Things go back to normal, he and Clarke continue the charade and he can’t help but wonder what happens when it’s all over.

*

By the end of the trip, Abby Griffin seems to be very pleased with the way her daughter has turned out, even asking that she paint something for her office at work. Clarke nearly bursts into tears. He’s happy to see that their relationship is on the mend, even if it’s partially based on a lie. It’s not that Clarke isn’t successful, just that she’s not that successful. She’s not living the dream like she hoped and she isn’t in some perfect relationship. He should be bothered by it, but he does get it.

He remembers how upset Abby was to find out her daughter was pursuing art. That was toward the beginning of their friendship and he’s seen their relationship go back and forth since. He’s glad to help, but he’s starting to wonder at what cost. How long can he continue to just be friends with her? He has to tell her.

When they go back into the apartment after seeing Abby off, things are quiet. She’s wanders idly about the living room, running a hand over the picture frames she brought with her. Now or never, he thinks.

“So…” He leads with, and it’s not the best thing he could say but he’s kind of at a loss.

It seems to work, though, because suddenly she’s wringing her hands in front of her and word vomiting all over the place..

“I’m sorry I kissed you, I just got really caught up playing house and it’s been nice and, I don’t know, I thought you were my boyfriend for a second.”

She looks so small and innocent now. Guilty, even. Which hurts because he doesn’t want her to be sorry about it.

He decides now is the moment. It was bound to happen, hell, it’s been building for a long time.

“I’m not sorry,” he says simply and moves towards her, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

She releases a long breath, like she’s been holding it in this entire time, “Really?”

He laughs and reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m so in love with you, Clarke. I have been for a long time.”

It feel cathartic to finally say it. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, he’s just happy to have it out there. He didn’t realize how heavy it’s been, but he feels lighter now.

When she laughs, he worries for a second that maybe it was a mistake and he’s ruined their entire friendship. But then she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him, really kisses him like her life depends on it.

When she pulls back, lips swollen from the activity she brushes a thumb across his cheek, “I love you, too, by the way.”

*

A month later she moves in with him for real this time. Half her belongings were already there, anyways.

Giant: Ch. 3

Pack yourself a toothbrush dear
Pack yourself a favorite blouse
Take a withdrawal slip
Take all of your savings out
‘Cause if we don’t leave this town
We might never make it out.

Previously on Giant

There were still visits. Still calls, texts at all hours, weekends spent at home, weekends spent visiting. It was not as much as they’d like, but still, the friends kept in touch as much as they could, or hope. Kara didn’t regret her decision as much as she thought she would, only realizing into their first holiday without her father that she needed the time at home to fix herself and grieve properly that she wouldn’t have gotten if she’d gone away to school.

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MAKE A WISH | 01 [M]

Jungkook x Taehyung | Camboy!AU

✕ WORDS: 8,175

GENRE: smut 

“Welcome to Genie, an interactive sex truth or dare game, minus the truth. Your genie is here to make your wish come true.”

After watching that ad for so long, Jungkook realized it would be a wiser decision to call his boyfriend before signing up — and maybe, if Taehyung needed a bit of persuasion, present him with a free trial.

Inspired by the movie “Nerve”


The primordial thought that crossed Taehyung’s mind once he received the call from his boyfriend was that he had, anew, forgotten something important. To be quite frank, that habit was commencing to bother the man, for essentially every week there was a particularly relevant object he misplaced anterior to leaving to work, and which caused for him to rush to his apartment in the ephemeral twenty-minutes interval he and his coworkers had. In the pithy seconds that took him to read Jungkook’s name on the device’s screen, he had already gone over all his most necessary belongings — documents, keys, and so on — though, as far as he was aware, he had taken them all with him.

Without a doubt, he would never foresee the unconventional occurrences that would unravel as soon as he placed the device on his ear and answered with a soft, almost timid, “Hello, Jungkook?” as he made sure to look around and observe if his voice had caused any sort of disturbance at his office. To his assuagement, most of his colleagues seemed to be absolutely phlegmatic towards the interruption, simply resuming their quotidian tasks once the ringing of his phone had ceased.

Serene and velvety, the soothing timbre of his boyfriend’s voice resounded through the connection, “Taehyung, what are you doing right now?” Jungkook tenderly inquired; the honey of his sacchariferous voice combining perfectly with the delicate, auric incandescence of the morning sun that passed through the office’s curtains.

Many kilometers away from Taehyung’s workplace, in the solitude of their apartment, the computer screen flashed with the same pastel colours of the advertisement he had been watching for the last half an hour. Jungkook was far from giving it the attention it required, for its substance was terribly monotonous at that point, echoing over and over again in the midst of his disharmonized speculations. Nevertheless, he had not yet paused the video nor had he abandoned his seat: he merely contemplated his possibilities, mouth slightly parted open, avidly looking amidst the rapid concatenation of libidinous images and raw moans for a single excuse not to sign up at once.

The advertisement’s suppressed, disassociated sonorousness could be heard faintly in the background, confusing the man at the other side of the line, “I’m at the office, why? Did something happen?” Jungkook noticed how anguish tainted so inadvertently Taehyung’s words, the hesitation choked at the back of his throat, straining his voice. It was not usual to receive a call so early in the morning, and even less common to be followed by such incongruous question. “Don’t tell me I forgot something aga—”

“—Listen to what I have to say before I regret every poor choice I’ve ever made,” Jungkook blurted out, too eager to verbalize his thoughts correctly; every word no more than a discernible mumble. His brusque alternation of demeanor was sufficient to make Taehyung sit straight at his dark leather chair, a frown withering amidst his features as the expectation of his preoccupations stung like daggers to his chest. “On a scale of zero to ten, how much would you hate me if I were to sign us up in some kind of… online sex game?”

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Venture

→ immortal!reader x exo; aeon’s lovers

♔ masterlist


“Say something. You must have a lot on your mind.” You encouraged, moving your empty cup aside. “Maybe disbelief?” 

You groaned as you sat back in the seat. “This makes me want to have a smoke again.”

Detective Do visibly flinched at that. “I didn’t think you smoked.”

“I did sometimes, not too often if that helps. It was really Junmyeon that made me start. I always kept it from him, though, he’d be disappointed in himself if he knew he had done that to me.” You supplied. “Now, where were we?”

He sighed, sitting back on the old sofa, caressing the light velvet texture. “Are these actually from the 30s?” He muttered in wonder before clearing his throat. “Sorry, the year is 1967 and you had just fled from New York. You took the plane to Beijing.”

“Ah, yes. I pretty much settled down in Beijing. I went and grabbed the money that I had left behind when I moved in ‘47 and used the amount to buy myself a place. I lived and worked several different jobs in Beijing for 7 years until I decided I wanted a scenery change. I faked an ID, changed my birth year to 1955 and enrolled in a college in 1974. 

In this college, I met a fellow student named Wen. We quickly became best friends, I was overjoyed. It had been 12 years since I had someone I could call a friend. Soon enough, this Wen revealed to me her series of ongoing schemes. Wen was a woman from a poor family in the rural areas that afforded college by scamming rich men and fellow male students. 

I got involved when her latest victim, Luhan, harbored a crush on me.


Beijing, China, 1975

The ID card was still silky in your hand. The details were so precise as if the ID was absolutely legit; all credit to the almost twenty years you had been practicing the art of ID-faking. You quickly scanned the words.

Y/N L/N. Born 1955.

All set for the second term of college. You could feel the excitement inside your chest, the extra jump in your step and the smile threatening to appear. You felt so young— as if you were 20 years old again, and you couldn’t have been happier at that exact moment.

The sweet sound of a familiar language suddenly met your ears, the sweet, playful shove of a shoulder met yours. Your friend, your best friend, Wen smiled brightly at you. “How are you?” She asked brightly, the dimple on her left cheek so deep you chuckled.

“I’m fine,” You singsonged, tucking the ID back into the pant-pocket before tugging the hem of your sweater back down to cover it. Wen’s sweet smile suddenly turned mischievous as she raised her hand, lazily waving it in direction of her boyfriend standing in a ring of boys. You cocked your eyebrow in question, and Wen morphed her lazy hand gesture to a stiff pointing gesture, and the boy she was pointing at was standing with his side facing us, in full conversation with said girl’s boyfriend.

“That is Luhan.”

Luhan. You’d heard that name before, therefore he was certainly not a new kid. Luhan had dark brown hair, silky-looking, parted in the middle and lightly swept out of his face. He was incredibly handsome, you had to admit, his jaw was defined and his build was lean—seemingly effortlessly too. You frowned up at your best friend in question.

“I know. Why are you pointing at him?”

Wen placed her arm within yours and tugged you quickly along the campus grounds and over to the group of discussing boys. As she dragged you over the wet grass, she excitedly whispered into your ear;

“Because Luhan has a crush on you, and I want you to help me scam him.”

The outskirts of Beijing, 1967

It had been a long time since you had worn a cheongsam, and to say you hadn’t missed it would be a lie.

You hugged your coat closer around yourself as you packed the newly bought groceries into the backseat of your newly bought car; your current residence for some time. Just until you could buy an apartment. 

Slamming the back door shut and eyeing the auto mobile, you sighed out in bliss. It had also been a long time since you had owned a car, especially one this glamorous. “Buick Riviera,” You breathed out, moving forward and sitting down in the drivers’ seat. “you’re a real beauty.” You finished, Mandarin fluid on your tongue despite the number of years that had gone by since you had spoken it. You pulled out of your parking spot, into the road with an anxious sigh. You knew where you were heading. And you were dreading it.

It didn’t take long for you to reach the long road underneath the arch of trees that tainted the road with long shadows. The weather was nice; the sun peeping through the clouds, saying hi, but the fall wind was too chilly to make this a perfect day. With every second that passed, you came closer and closer to the old mansion, and it only took a couple of minutes through the familiar tree-tunnel for you to reach the vast, green front yard that laid before the even larger mansion. A non-perfect day didn’t stop a couple of children playing among the grass.

You parked alongside another car, the brand and model uninteresting to you this time around, and stepped out onto the gravel, forcing a quick smile to the two children that stopped playing to watch you. “Hello,” You started, pausing when the young girl and boy greeted back immediately.

“is your father home?”

The boy nodded, moved forward to grab your hand in his and lead you over the yard and to the front door of the mansion. The two children didn’t say anything as they made you settle onto the old, memorable sofa in the living room, despite your protests. You told them you only needed to quickly ask their father something but the girl only smiled, not listening as she went to make you some tea. Soon, a pair of footsteps echoed over the familiar floor and joined the three of you in the tea room. 

The owner was the one and only Yixing, Zhang Yixing; black hair, fair skin and brown eyes—and 20 years older. He halted when he laid his eye upon you, and you could so clearly hear his breath hitch as he exclaimed your name.

His eyes were wide and he ran over to you, dragging you up from your place on the old sofa and into his warm arms. His warm, strong arms that felt exactly the same as they had 20 years ago. He chanted your name. “You don’t look a day older, Y/N. How?” 

Kissing the top of your head, down over the length of your hair, his still plump lips then reached the skin of your face. You pulled a confused face, lightly pushing the man away and staring up into his face.

“Oh, you must be Zhang Yixing,” You smiled politely. “my mother spoke lots about you.” You lied. Easily.

You watched the blissed out expression on Yixing’s face fade, the humiliation of his mistake sink his features with dullness. He let his arms fall off you before stepping away, slowly. He silently sat down in the sofa chair opposite to your own seat. Yixing’s daughter came back inside with a cup of tea, placing it before you on the low, wooden table as you sat back down.

“My name isn’t Y/N, I’m Y/N’s daughter.” You introduced yourself, watching Yixing’s eyes fall, even more. You ignored the screaming inside of telling you to stop lying, to tell the truth, to stay there with Yixing. But you could never. These children, they were his, which obviously meant—

“Baobei?”

The exact woman from twenty years ago stepped inside the living room, adorning a bright red cheongsam that reached her ankles. She was still beautiful. Her onyx hair was short, tussled just above the tip of her ears and she stepped inside, with a soft smile on her lips, the two children ran to tackle her legs with gleeful grins. Yixing forced a smile to his wife, gesturing to the chair next to his, before looking back to you. His eyes could not mask his miserableness — and yet, his wife sat down, oblivious and content.

“So,” He spoke with pain, with difficulty, and you almost flinched then and there, the lump in your throat starting to suffocate you. “how’s your mother?”

“Gone. A few years ago.” You answered curtly, shaking your head. Yixing didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, his eyes fell on your face as he himself fell into a paralyze. You didn’t know what he was thinking, what he was feeling for you after twenty whole years; a marriage and two children with another woman. You didn’t know after all that time. You didn’t even know what you were feeling, after all that time. 

You averted your eyes to his wife, the familiar need to flee present within the adrenaline in your veins. “My mother wanted me to grab something from the house, something that belonged to her. May I search for it? I do know where it’s placed.” You pleaded, and the oblivious woman saw no reasons to deny you. 

It only took five minutes for you to find your old room, next to the room that used to be Mr. Zhang’s—they were both children’s room now. You found the small dent in the wall quickly and opened the little, hidden safe secured in the wall. There, you found your share of Mr. Zhang’s inheritance and hurried out of the mansion once again.

Just like you had 20 years ago.


Beijing, China, 1975

It was another warm day in Beijing; the breeze was soft, comforting and it flew past the hem of the yellow skirt that reached the back of your calves. The sun was bright and just a little too hot as it shone upon your onyx sweater, but you didn’t mind. Sunny days in Beijing only brought back heaps and heaps of good memories.

You were sitting outside by a table on campus, constantly toying with your brand new sunglasses—that almost covered your whole face—and trying to focus on the words in the textbook before you. While it was your own choice to major in biology as you returned to university, it was hard to focus on this particular day. Just then, you felt a careful hand fall onto your shoulder.

“Y/N?” A careful yet confident voice spoke. You hadn’t gotten to turn around in your seat before the owner had gracefully sat down opposite to you. It was Luhan.

“Luhan,” You gasped, smiling. “hi.”

He pointed at your book on the table. “Is it homework?”

“I suppose you could call it that, yes. I just need to revise.” You giggled. “Hey, I never got to hear what you major in?”

“Just business.” He shrugged. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to study so my parents just chose for me. It’s a little embarrassing.”

“As long as you’re not hating it, I don’t see a problem.”

Luhan smiled softly then, and silence fell over the two of you. You looked down again, trying to focus on the same sentence you had been reading for over half an hour, only to find it even harder now as Luhan was there. The characters just didn’t make sense to you as they would usually have done, and in addition to that, what Wen had told you just a few weeks ago still lingered in your mind.

“Because Luhan has a crush on you. And I want you to help me scam him.”

At first thought, you had said no. Straight out. No. You didn’t want to get involved with everything Wen was doing; scamming, stealing and lying to those that were better off — especially older men that just wanted the company of young women. Wen took advantage of them, and that was fine because it didn’t involve you. But she was ruthless and she was not taking no for an answer. 

Ultimately you had said yes.

Besides, Luhan was quite handsome and it would have been a lie if you said it didn’t affect you. But if it was one thing these 41 years had taught you it, it was to not get attached. Especially not when you were about to steal money from one.

You took the advantage the sunglasses gave you and peeked over at his body opposite to you. He was shyly fidgeting, eyes wavering left and right and his cheeks, you noticed through the tinted glass, were bright red. He was trying to play it cool, and from what Wen had told you, Luhan naturally was very cool, but obviously, you did something to him. You faked a smile, closing the book in front of you and moving to put it back into your backpack. “Luhan, please excuse my bluntness, but I heard you had a crush on me.”

He stuttered. “What?”

“Sorry, I know it was blunt but Wen told me you had a crush, and, you know, I thought—”

“Ah, no, it’s true. I do have a crush on you.” He chuckled. “Hope you don’t find me weird now.”  

“I could never.” You chuckled. “In fact, I’m relieved.” You lied.

“You are?”

“I am, I like you too.”

Luhan placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing it just slightly as his smile widened. “That’s great, uh, so would you like to go out sometime?”

A soft sigh, eyes smiling, you nodded. “I do.”


The winds were getting colder by the days, the sun getting weaker and weaker, but that didn’t stop you and Luhan every lunch hour as you hurried out to eat behind the school building. You never really ate, though. The only thing arriving at your lips were lips. His lips.

And you were loving it— too much.

You would always sit, straddling him as he sat on the cold ground, leaning into the wall. Your lips would be interlocked, only parted just long enough to giggle or whisper sweet nothings into the breath of the other. Hearts fluttered and cheeks were flushed. Luhan made you feel so young, he caused this old excitement feeling inside you; as if you hadn’t felt that enough times already.

It was the same, addicting and wonderful feeling all over again, the same feeling that always triggered destruction, heartbreaks, and escapes, but you couldn’t stop. Your developing feelings for Luhan made taking some of his money every time you were together — alright.

The flutters numbed the guilt.

You ran your hands up, over the length of his arms, feeling the soft texture of his blazer before you directed your hands back south, towards the pockets of his trousers where you knew he always kept a few bills. The second your fingertips recognized worn paper, you firmly placed your lips against Luhan’s, dragging the bills out of his pocket and up into your own. You didn’t think too much of what you were actually doing as Luhan let out a surprised moan, his hands coming to rest on your thighs.

He chuckled deeply as you finally parted, and the sound sunk into your abdomen. “This is amazing, really, you’re so gorgeous, but what if someone came back here and saw us?”

“They’d get a show, I suppose.” You giggled. “Don’t worry, baobei, they won’t.

Luhan smiled. “Hopefully.” You added and watched Luhan’s face contort with chuckles, his jaw unhinging off his face and triggering your own laughter. 


Luhan’s soft, wet kisses still lingered on your face, your neck and the skin of your shoulders as you made your way over to the place you were going to meet Wen at. She was already there when you arrived, and her deep dimple that usually made you so happy, only made you more dreadful this time around. Her chuckles that usually made yourself chuckle was only obnoxious now that your chest was burning and the money in your pocket wasn’t yours.

Wen jogged over to you, jumping the last few meters, her hand gripping the cloth of her tan midi-skirt as she danced gleefully. Your name left her lips as song and the first thing she did as she stepped in front of you were to fish the money out of your pockets. You let her, biting your lips guiltily while your best— and only friend in 12 years took the money, waved goodbye and left.

You loved Wen, and you were sure she loved you too. But this wasn’t right, and you were going to do something about it, never mind what it would cause for you. 

You watched her back disappear more and more, and smiled sadly, enjoying the very last, bittersweet memory of what was your and Wen’s friendship.


“Luhan,” You whispered out, gripping his other hand with yours and bringing your hands together so you were standing opposite to him, holding both of his hands close to your breasts. You kissed his knuckles, the frown on your face deep with the heaviness of your revelation. The words on your tongue felt like lead, tasted like lead. Luhan’s own eyebrows were raised in question.

“Well, go on.” He smiled. “You can tell me anything, baobei.”

“—I’m stealing your money. Wen’s stealing your money.”

He calmly pulled his hands out of yours, away from your stinging lips. He cocked an eyebrow, his mouth agape, and his eyes hard. “What? You’re joking, right?”

When you didn’t answer, he lost his calm. “Are you telling me that you’re the one that’s been taking money from me the whole time? My own fucking girlfriend?” His face was ablaze and not for the good reason. His eyes hardened, even more, you could feel him coating his hatred and anger all over your skin. 

You wanted to run, but this time around, you didn’t. 

He stared at you as if you were the woman in The Painted Skin; two faced and demonic. Never before had a man looked at you this way. Never before had you angered your lover this way. But you suppose there’s always a first time for everything.

“I’m sorry Luhan, Wen has been doing this for a long time, she just wanted my help. I couldn’t deny her.”

“Don’t even say my name. Ever again.” He spat ruthlessly, and drops of his saliva landed on your skin. Your cheeks were burning, your limbs were tingling. Through the numbness, you were sure there were tears running down your cheeks. You hurried to fish out a few bills out of our pocket, pushing them into his calloused hands.

“Please, this was the only money I could back from her. Take them.” You pleaded, flinching as he threw the money on the ground with a loud screech.

“Shut up!” He gripped your hand in his, sternly. Even through all that anger, he didn’t grip your hand too harshly. “You’re going to pay for this, Y/N- you and Wen. I just can’t believe you did this to me.”

Your vision blurred with your tears.

“I can’t believe you didn’t love me all this time! You used me!”

You wanted to scream that you did, that you did love him. All this time, you had fallen for him despite your age, despite your task. All this time, you had imagined a life with Luhan. All this time you had imagined opening up to him. Your heart was breaking in your very hands, his too, yet the sobs clogged up your throat enough to leave you silent as Luhan left you all alone behind the school building.

All alone.

Luhan had you and Wen kicked out of the school. Under a week, you lost him, your degree and your only friend. An infuriated Wen threw her curses at you the very same day as she was sent back to her hometown, and that was the day you promised yourself that friends weren’t worth it— and neither were lovers. 

You were all alone again.

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!]

2

Sunflower

19

“Come in, come in!” My mother ushered the two of us inside.

I was cringing at my state already, but I refused to let go of Harry’s hand. Even when my mother opened her arms to him, expecting a hug, I made the experience very awkward for him because I just didn’t let go.
He leant down to her, receiving a warm welcome.

“You must be Harry.” She said the obvious.

“So I’ve been told.” Harry replied.

He gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek before he withdrew, and I wondered if Curls just had this effect on mothers, because my mum was swooning just looking at him. He’d said four words and I could tell she was smitten.

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Cause this is pissing me off:

stop trying to destroy Villainous/Villanos because of one storyboarder, and stop saying that they created the show

Lemonflowertea was a very popular artist once on tumblr, known for their edgy offensive humor and fucked up stories and art. A lot of the fucked up shit they did was when they themselves were a teenager, and while incredibly gross, isn’t the legal definition of pedophilia. At it’s least offensive, it was teenage edgeliness to the extreme (think any story you read in dA featuring rape and sexual assault as plot devices and Mary Sue tragic back stories). At it’s worst, it was legitimate porn drawn by a minor of characters who were minors. Idk about American or Mexican law on the matter, but I do believe that is illegal.
Yes, they were fucked up, and that is fucked up.
But they aren’t the creator of the show, and I have a feeling they definitely weren’t showing people who were hiring them their blog when it was titled with the word “faggot”
As for the scam, that’s more complicated, and honestly nothing compared to this above

But they aren’t the creator of the mini series. It’s bad that they’re there, but they aren’t the one who made it. They are simply boarding the art and will probably only be there for a while, because storyboarders are often rotated and shifted out.

The creator is a nice man, who most likely isn’t controlling who’s the ones assigned to his team. Or even if he is, I doubt he knows. Just cause they seem like they’re both on tumblr, doesn’t mean he’s done digging like that.

Villanos is not the creation of a bad person. And honestly, the reaction to a story boarder and not a creator being the issue for this show is striking to me, because another show, Clarence, wasn’t called for boycott when its creator sexually assaulted a coworker. He /was/ immediately fired of course, but why is that show more likable than this one, when it was tainted from day one by that creator?
If you really want think that the storyboarder is what’s ruined the show for you, that’s fine. Don’t watch, that’s fine. If you think you have to call up Cartoon Network and ask why they’re employed there after those actions, that’s fine. Hell, even get them /fired/ if you think it has to happen, that’s fine. But don’t tear down the work of a multitude individuals because one person is the spawn of Satan unless you know they’re willing to let it slide

Episodes Review: ‘Elements’ (S09E2–09)
  • Airdate: April 24–27, 2017
  • Story by: Ashly Burch, Adam Muto, Kent Osborne, Jack Pendarvis
  • Storyboarded by: Sam Alden, Polly Guo, Seo Kim, Somvilay Xayaphone, Laura Knetzger, Steve Wolfhard, Graham Falk, Kent Osborne, Hanna K. Nyström, Aleks Sennwald
  • Directed by: Elizabeth Ito, Cole Sanchez (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

As with Islands, instead of doing a recap of the entire miniseries, I’m going to jump right into what I have to say about the 8 episodes that aired this week.

Whereas Islands went for a more serious and philosophical stance, Elements went the opposite route, emphasizing humor throughout. There are a lot of great character moments, funny bits of dialogue, and goofy fare that you’d only find in an Adventure Time episode. The miniseries’ second episode, “Bespoken For” is perhaps the best example of this fun blend, allowing the Ice King to tell his side of a pretty wacky story. In fact, the Ice King is on grand display in this miniseries, and the show really lets his amiable goofball side shine.

Another strong part about Elements is the sheer number of characters that we revisit. Marceline. Lemongrab. Fern. Flame Princess. Cinnamon Bun. Elder Plops. Party Pat. They’re all in this miniseries, as are many more. And what is more, they all have decently sized parts. In the commentary for “It Came from the Nightosphere”, Adam Muto noted that the episode included many characters who had appeared throughout season one to really emphasize the scope of Hunson Abadeer’s doings. At the same time, that episode also made the audience see how truly huge Ooo actually is. Due to the sheer amount of characters in this miniseries, Elements does something similar, allowing us to tour the sprawling lands that a boy and his dog (and by extension, ourselves) have roamed through for almost eight seasons now.

On the production side of things, everything is pretty grand. The background artists conjured up some truly beautiful element-infested set pieces, and the character designers went all out, ensuring that those who befell the slime elemental are noticeably goopy, and those who were tainted by candy are sacchrine to the point of horrifying. In fact, the candyfized denizens of Ooo are some of my favorite designs that the show has ever produced. In regards to the storyboarders, everyone turns in consistently solid work. There are no duds, but at the same time there are no real standouts, with the exception of Graham Falk and Kent Osbornes work on “Cloudy” (discussed later). I’d argue this is a good thing, since a miniseries should be a consistent whole. In fact, Islands struggled a bit because it was sprinkled with some really, really good episodes, which were surrounded by episodes that either were not quite there, or detoured from the main plot.

So, as you can see, there was a lot to love about this miniseries. At the same time, there were a few elements of the miniseries that felt kind of deus ex machina-y. Finn magically have the Farmworld Enchiridion came out of nowhere, and while this plot development is not something that makes or breaks the reality of the series, it would have at least been nice for the show to have established that Finn snatched the book after the climax of “Crossover”. In a similar way, having LSP be the ‘anti-elemental’ was not unreasonable, but it was set up in the quickest, most out-of-left-field way. The show should’ve made why LSP was unaffected a central mystery to be solved.

The miniseries also struggled at times with how it characterized the main players, with perhaps the worst offender being Betty. The episodes featuring her that led up to this have suggested that she’s a bit off her rocker, but near the end of Elements, she was downright mean to Finn and outright hateful to Ice King. Her behavior left a rather sour taste in my mouth, and so when she was zapped to Mars, presumably to pay for her magical meddling, I really wasn’t that saddened. After all, she very nearly did destroy Ooo due to some selfish desire. I only wish that the show would have placed her in a more empathetic positions—after all, losing a loved one is really hard, but it doesn’t justify treating others like total jerks.

Patience St. Pim also suffered in terms of characterization. In season 7′s “Elemental”, she was defeated and understandably angry. Then, earlier this season, she seemed to be setting up some diabolical master plan. Both episodes suggest she is crazy-powerful and about to unleash something really bad upon Ooo. In Elements, however, we learn that her plan was simply to super-charge the other elemental gals with magic, but that this ultimately backfired. Wah wah. Patience makes an appearance in “Winter Light”, largely to mope about how her plan backfired, and then she pretty much disappears from the miniseries’ plot. Frankly, this is disappointing. To put it more bluntly, she’s a wasted villain, emasculated for seemingly no good reason. Why did not the show use her as the main problem to be overcome?

But ultimately, my biggest complaint, if you can really call it that, is that the Elements miniseries was not much different from Adventure Time’s usual fare. In fact, this miniseries was almost like they took a normal, 11-minute episode and stretched it until it was 8 times its original size. Stakes used that extra time to delve into Marceline’s backstory and explore the psyches of her adversaries, and Islands made us of this extra time to explore Finn’s backstory in detail. Elements, on the other hand, drags out a “collect the gems” plot for the last half of its run. This means that the excitement promised by the first few episodes is largely evaporated when Finn et al. set out to find yet another gem. In other words, I’m not quite sure why the crew felt it necessary to tell this story in a miniseries format.

What all of this means is that Elements isn’t bad—honestly, far from it—but that it rather isn’t that amazing, either. I’d consider it, in terms of tone and plot, to sit among other ‘standard’ Adventure Time episodes that succeed at telling a fun story, but are nonetheless not on the same level as “Simon & Marcy”, “Min & Marty”, or “Evergreen”.

But let’s talk about “Cloudy”.

I know that my above rantings might sound like I hated this miniseries, and I didn’t. In fact, I absolutely adored the fourth episode, “Cloudy”. Based on a scrapped first season plot, this episode places Finn and Jake on a cloud for 11 minutes and just lets them be. They give each other imaginary haircuts, talk about their feelings, and try to hold their bladder. It’s cute and relaxing, and it really affirms why I love these two characters. Ultimately, the episode doesn’t have much to do with the Elements miniseries, although it does serve as a sort of interlude, allowing the episodes to shift from the creepy-drama of the preceding three episodes, into the more find-the-jewels mode of the final three. It’s a respite and a pivot, and in that regard it works wonders.

It’s also a delightful episode on its own, even viewed outside of the miniseries. Were I to have never seen Elements, I’m pretty sure I could’ve still enjoyed “Cloudy”.

Mushroom War Evidence: Nothing.

Final Grade:

Elements was Adventure Time’s final foray into the art of the miniseries, and I think it was a decent note to end on. It could’ve been better (as my review makes clear), but it was ultimately a fun trip. In terms of how I’d rank this among the other miniseries, it goes:

Stakes > Islands > Elements

Ultimately, I liked all of the miniseries in their own ways, but I only felt that Stakes really knocked it out of the park consistently. But then again, I love Marceline more than most of the other characters, so what do I know?

ML Requests: Jealousy- Adrienette

Requested by: @animatedsuperchick19

Still finishing these up, plugging away at this and a new art request I received. Love all your requests. Thanks for keeping me busy :)


“Duuude!!! She’s wicked hot! Damn I wish I could hang with models like this all the time!” Nino oogled the picture of the girl on his phone. One of Adrien’s older model friends was coming to town and well the guys had practically been drooling over her arrival all week.

“Excuse me?” Alya narrowed her eyes at Nino.

“I mean- uh- you know- she uh- she’s really not THAT hot,” Nino spluttered.

“Uh-huh.” Alya nodded skeptically.

“You know Marinette, Azalea works in fashion design sometimes too, I could introduce you if you like,” Adrien offered up to Marinette who at this point was absolutely seething. Oh great, Marinette thought, Another thing she’s perfect at!

“Yeah that would be great,” Marinette said through her teeth. Alya raised an eyebrow at her. Adrien didn’t seem to notice her barely contained rage.

“Great! I’ll bring her by the bakery sometime,” Adrien beamed at Marinette.

“Peachy,” Marinette muttered in response.

“When are you taking your hot model friend to the bakery Agreste? I think it only fair that you introduce me to her,” Kim sauntered over to Adrien’s desk. Marinette gripped her hands into fists to resist the urge to slug Kim. She was really tired of hearing about Adrien’s beautiful, perfect, amazing model friend! This had been going on for nearly two weeks and Marientte was on the edge of her patience. The girl was everything Marinette wasn’t, conventionally beautiful, able to speak to Adrien in complete sentences, tall, brunette, stunning, exotic, a model, and apparently a fashion designer.

“I looked her up online and it says here that she sings, is she doing a concert in town?” Max interrupted. Oh and apparently she was a singer. Great. Just great. Marinette was fairly certain steam would rise up from her ears any second. She hated feeling jealous but after two weeks of this she had lost her a majority of her willpower and cheeriness.

Keep reading

Manners- Dick Grayson x Reader

A/N: This is a little something i was talking about a while ago, I’ve been working on it for sometime and asked who wanted to be tagged so, sorry for the delay, it took me a lot more to be a little free than I expected but, here it is. I really hope you like it @speedypan @jadedhillon @illeatyoursoulwithmustard

Words: 1367

Prompt: “You’re the jerk-face customer that keeps on thumbing through their phone while ordering their drink so I exact revenge by spelling your name wrong on your cup and drawing phallic pictures on your coffee” AU. 

You looked at the clock impatient. 8:45, he’ll be here any minute, you thought as you prepared one of your regulars’ coffee, along with your “personal touch”, a drawing not so safe for work on his cup with no name, a little vengeance against this particular customer. Ever since the day you started working at one of Gotham’s busiest coffee shops there’s been one person who seemed to forget the simplest of decency, who never seemed to pay attention or even said a thank you, always in a hurry. You later learned from one of your coworkers that he was one of Wayne’s kids, a regular since the shop opened. One of the oldest workers said he’s got a rather important place at the company being the eldest. That explains it, you thought, rich kids always feel so important to even look at people like us.

He always came at the same time and had the same thing, 9 am and a latte, never looking at you and never saying a word, his face always glued to the phone. It didn’t matter at first, you could understand it, lives like those were demanding and required attention, sometimes it was too much to leave it but every single time he came was just too much for you to accept it.

A ding of the doorbell a minute past 9 announced his arrival. You watched as he came closer to the counter, his coffee ready and steaming hot on the counter and his eyes never leaving his phone. Jerk.  As he made his way you could notice the others stopping to look at him, even your colleagues left their work to stare, and you couldn’t blame them. He was well built, toned but not too much for it to show under the suit, just like an acrobat, his hair was raven black and he had the lightest brown tone on his skin, everything him just seemed to match, too bad you couldn’t see his face. You inhaled as he was finally in front of you, your eyes trying to catch a change from him that never came as he grabbed his cup.

Come-on!, you tried to will him with your mind, eyes rolling away from him. Just say something, and maybe I’ll forget everything. Nothing.

“Dick….” You said under your breath, rolling your eyes and glaring at him.

“Yeah, what?” He asked, his voice startling you and his eyes finally looking up, catching your breath in the process and tainting your face red at the blueness of them. God, he was handsome, why are they always handsome.

“Wha-…, Your name i-….? Aah….” the color that raised a while ago left just as fast when you remembered the not so friendly thing you had just drawn on his cup. “Hey, uh…” you tried saying, hoping to keep the eye contact as much as possible and away from the cup. Too late, you regretted as his blue eyes moved from your face to the coffee he was holding

“Wait!” You screamed, taking your hand to your mouth barely realizing what you did, making you happy how empty the shop was today. You watched as his face changed into an assortment of expressions, eyes wide open and all with a common confusion at what he was looking.

“Umm…” he managed to say after a few seconds, his eyes moving along his hand as he examined your work of art. “I think I should just…”, he said, wrinkles forming on his forehead and pink coloring his cheeks. He raised his eyes to look at you once more, something behind them that you couldn’t tell as he spoke once more, “Thank you.” And with that, he walked out.

You felt yourself about to pass out, head pulsing as thoughts flooded you. What had you just done? Did that really happened? Maybe you went too far, maybe he didn’t deserve it, or did he? He had been a jerk all this time, felt too important, not even a look, a thank you, hell, he never even shook his head!, But maybe he just couldn’t? Too much work and pressure, he was Wayne’s kid after all.

The same train of thoughts followed you to the next day, not showing any signs of leaving, you looked absentmindedly at the floor, yesterday’s events feeling like a bad movie that kept repeating itself over and over inside your mind. A ring took you away from your thoughts, you looked at the clock, heart racing as you noticed the hour, 9 o’clock. You dared looking at the front door and there he was, not a minute late, tailored suit, hair slicked back but no phone in his hands, his eyes occupied on something else this time, looking for yours until he found them, making you blush and look away, hiding behind the counter, lowering so low you were sitting on the ground.  What is he doing here!?, your head screamed at you as you heard him approach, panicking and lost as to what to do, seeing you were sure he’d never come back after what you did yesterday.

You were surprised by a coughing from behind, making you jump and letting out a little scream you were quick to hide, your face feeling hotter as you raised yourself to face him, feeling as all eyes were on you.

“Good morning sir, what…ah…, what can I help you with?”, You tried to say with your best company voice, careful not to let the trembling that was conquering your body show.

“Hey, umm…, guess I no longer need an introduction” he said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I owe you an apology”

Your mouth almost fell to the floor. Was he apologizing? “What? No!”, you blurted out before thinking about it any more, hands waving in front of you as you spoke. “It should be me apologizing, I should have never done such thing in the first place”

“No. No, it’s my fault, I guess I’ve been a jerk this past couple of months, so I’m sorry.”, his hands covering his face. “Ugh, you must think I’m just another entitled rich kid, huh?, He chuckled, a faint smile on his face and his hands dropping to his sides. “Looks like I’ve been living up to my name”

“Not entirely”, you said, seemingly having recovered your breath, “just slightly.” You gave him a smile, a tiny laugh escaping your lips as you looked at him

“Just slightly”, his eyes brightening up as he spoke, smile matching yours.

“Hey uhm, I was thinking if maybe…, if you’d like to go…? Out? With me…?” His voice seemed to tremble, hand returning to rub the back of his neck, and cheeks flushed red as he looked at you with hidden impatience. “I’d like to compensate for everything, and I’m finally done with work, so I was thinking maybe dinner tonight?” he said, eyes now pleading.

You tried to contain your laugh without success, his whole expression was too much for you to handle and you wanted nothing but end his plea.

After a little laugh you tried to disimulate, you finally answered, “I’d love to.”

“Really? I mean…, that’s great! Awesome.” He almost shouted, his face brightening up as he grinned at you, “so uhm, I’ll come for you after you finish, ah…”

“[Y/N] [L/N]” you said, extending your hand to greet him.

“Richard Grayson,” he said, taking your hand in his’, his hand warm against yours, “but you can call me Dick”, he finished with a wink that made your heart skip a beat.

“Well, I’ll leave you to work now”, a saddened tone in his voice and squeezing your hand slightly, as if not wanting to let go. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Can’t wait”, you said. He gave you a smile, the warmth of his hand leaving you as he moved towards the door, the bell at the top ringing as he exited.

And with that he left, leaving you waiting for tonight to come.

“A Rose By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet” - On Dissociation, Duality and Identity on Supernatural

“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…”
- John Milton / “Paradise Lost” 

After reading an interesting article on the 350th anniversary of Milton’s “Paradise Lost” I found myself pondering one of the themes prevalent in the poem and how it translates to one of the themes I love so much on Supernatural and how it has been especially explored during Carver Era: The Topic of Duality and Identity.

One of the key aspects of Lucifer as a character in Milton’s poem is how the archangel sheds his original name and by that also crafts a new “life” for himself along with it. He no longer calls himself or is addressed as Lucifer but as “Satan” or “the Devil” (interestingly enough that is something Supernatural’s longest standing villain rejects completely, and despises these names which is an interesting aspect to keep in mind and one I’ll come back to later). This re-invention and the power of names is an intricate part of shaping one’s own identity and reality. It’s something we have seen countless pop culture figures go through for very similar reasons.

The pattern can be traced all the way back to fairytales like Rumpelstiltsken, but it can be found in a multitude of modern pieces of literature, art or television too. Think of Tom Riddle vs. Lord Voldemort, Dr. Jekyll vs. Mr Hyde or Walter White vs. Heisenberg. They all create alter egos for themselves in a fashion comparable to the renaming process that happens to demons in Milton’s work, because once they lost their positive identity, they also lost their names. It’s very much in line with what we see happening on Supernatural as all the more “run of the mill”-demons we have met thus far have been addressed by the name of the person they inhabited, Meg is probably the most memorable example for that. And it’s also of course a transformation the King of Hell himself underwent when he died as Fergus McLeod and emerged as Crowley.

Much like his mother, who always tried to escape her past and shape a new world for herself in which she possesses the power she lacked before when being rejected, so Crowley tried his best to forget about his past altogether and shape a new world and identity for himself. And all that went well and good until, well, the Winchesters came along. Until then Crowley was able to craft his new self and by shaping himself shaping also his own reality, how he perceives and thinks of himself (unintruded) and by that trying to infer how people perceive him. In the end however the dilemma comes down to what Kurt Vonnegut once described as: “Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what we pretend to be.” Because sometimes that - or rather the way we think about ourselves - can turn into your Achille’s heel or something like a self fulfilling prophecy. And on Supernatural, I suppose no one fights that battle with himself harder than Dean Winchester. That battle of how he thinks about himself and how/who he really is (and that aspect is drawn attention to again with Mr. Ketch insinuating that Dean and he are alike or that Dean is merely an unhinged killer (see meta and gifset here) - something Dean may think of himself at the worst of times, but which hardly can be counted as a realistic picture of who he truly is).

And in this regard I feel it’s important to remember that Dean went to Hell, was well on his way to becoming a demon, but got rescued before his soul may have been twisted too far to dip back. That doesn’t change anything about the fact however that Dean remembers that time, remembers what happened to him, what he did and what he became. It left a taint, some darkness within him and one he is deeply ashamed of. Now, question is how far along the transformation or dissociation went when he was in hell. Was Dean close to forgetting his own name, his own positive identity? And is that possibly the reason why Dean’s struggles in terms of identity and perception of self has gotten all the much worse post Hell too (while also of course taking into account the trauma he faced there)? Because Dean thinking about himself merely as a killer definitely stems from his experiences in and post Hell.

Keep reading

My Decision (2)

Pairing: Lawyer!Bucky x Artist!Reader, Lawyer!Bucky x Model!Dot

Warnings: None

Words count: 1281

Sumary: Bucky barnes is the  hottest lawyer who dates the infamous supermodel Dolores Grey, thir relationship is what people called #relationshipgoals. Bucky loves Dot with all of his heart and they’re going to marry soon, Rebecca (Bucky’s sister) never likes the idea of Bucky and Dot. one day she asks Bucky to pick up a painting from the art student at University of California, that’s the first time Bucky meet you. Will the meeting with you change anything between Bucky and Dot, or not?

Part1

Part2

          The drive to the (Y/N) art store isn’t far actually, and when Bucky arrived he saw a girl talking on her phone while placing the paintings back to it place. She must be so caught up in the conversation, which she didn’t hear someone is coming. “Alright Mrs. Carter I’ll pick up the paintings tomorrow and after I finish the class—Yes I’m free today actually, just placing everything back to the store after the exhibit yesterday” Mrs. Carter? That means she knew Steve’s wife and that is possible she knew Steve too, why Steve never tell him about this amazing artist that Rebecca adores, “It’s okay Mrs. Carter you don’t have to come here to help me, you’ve done so much by giving me a chance to show my works on your exhibit—“ Peggy exhibit? Steve never told him that too, he usually gets invited to every event Steve and Peggy had, “Ehm…” Bucky clears his throat and caught the girl attention, she glances back a second “Sorry Mrs. Carter, I’ll talk to you later?—yes tomorrow after class, bye” and she turns around looking at Bucky, her eyes widen at the sight in front of her, the infamous lawyer James Buchanan Barnes.

          “Excuse me, Miss… I’m looking for (Y/N) (Y/L/N)” Bucky asks, “Umm… ya it’s me, hi” she grins, “I came here to pick up the paintings that ordered by Rebecca Barnes” , “Oh! Right I’ll be right back!” (y/n) went to the back to pick up the paintings and some paper to wrap it, Bucky saw her coming in with the paintings which is bigger than herself and she is quite struggling on that, “Let me help you with that” Bucky chuckles while taking the painting from your hand, and when he places it on the table, now he knew why Rebecca likes this painting because it’s clearly breathtaking, “Wow… you’re really knows what you’re doing” Bucky looking at the painting and her, “Thankyou… anyway you can sit while I’m working on this box and wrapped the painting, Rebecca said is for your mom birthday if I’m not mistaken?” , “Yes it is” , “Okay, do you want a drink? Coffee or tea?” , “Coffee is okay” Bucky smiles at her which makes her cheeks redden, she turns around quickly before he notices, Bucky smiles and shook his head at her actions because he saw that tainted red cheeks, “this is your coffee” she smiles at him which Bucky notices she is quite cute, “Thankyou Miss (Y/L/N)” , “Please, just call me (y/n)” she smiles again, Bucky taught to himself that this girl isn’t quite cute, but very cute.

          After waiting awhile and sipping the coffee, (y/n) approach Bucky and handed him the painting that also beautifully wrapped by her, “Thankyou so much for buying the painting here” she smiles at him, “thankyou for wrapping this painting, how much for the wrapping paper?” Bucky asks, “Oh, no need to pay, anyway please tell your mom happy birthday and wish her have an awesome life ahead” , “Thankyou (y/n), goodluck for the paintings!” , “Thankyou” she smiles, “Thanks again (y/n), I guess… see you around?” he smiles and excuse himself, “See you around James” she shouts which loud enough for Bucky to hear from the outside of the store.

          “Hey!” Rebecca waved at Bucky and told her friends goodbye, “Hey pumpkin, how’s school?” he asks, “Nothing much, so you picked it up yet?” , “Yup, it’s in the backseat” , “what do you think?” , “about what?” Bucky asks, “Ofcourse about the painting Buck, what do you think I would ask for?” , “Oh, I thought you’re asking about (y/n)” Rebecca smirks, “Well if you have something in my mind about her, you can tell me” , “Whatever, c’mon we’re going to Nanny ice-cream now, get in the car” Rebecca chuckles, the drive to Nanny’s ice cream is quite long and Rebecca starts the conversation again, “So… what do you think?” , “About the painting?” , “Yup” , “Really breathtaking, I like it” Bucky smiles, “and?” Rebecca raised her eyebrows, “and… what?” Bucky asks, “What do you think about this (y/n) girl?” , “she is talented and knows what she is doing that’s for sure…” , “and?” , “What’s wrong with you Becca?” Bucky stared at his sister, “Nothing is wrong” she smiles widely, “She is cute” Bucky says, “I know she is” Rebecca smiles at her brother and caught a glimpse of his redden cheeks, “we’re here!” she clapped her hands once they’re arrive at Nanny’s ice-cream, “can I have two ice creams pleaassseeee?” Rebecca begged, “Okay, take as much as you want” Bucky chuckles, “I love you so much big bro”

          At the house they prepare everything to surprise Winifred and Dot is already rambling about how long it will take till Winifred arrive, “Stop whining, if you don’t wanna be here just go home” Rebecca says, “Of course I wanna be here, I won’t miss my soon to be mother-in-law’s birthday” Dot says while looking at Bucky and giving Rebecca the “I win, bitch” stare, “Okay she is here!” Bucky turns off the lights. George opens the door and guide Winifred inside, “Where’s everyone?” she asks, the lights turn on and showed Bucky, Dot, and Rebecca cheering at her, Rebecca walked to her mom while singing happy birthday and tell her to blow the candle, Winifred close her eyes and pray, “I wish Rebecca will get a good grade when she is graduate, I wish James has truly settled his heart, and I wish me and George always have a happy life” and she blew the candle.

          “We have something for you, but you have to close your eyes” Bucky says, Winifred looking at George but he just gave her a wink, so she close her eyes and let her son guide her, “Okay now, open” she gapped her mouth at the painting in front of her, “Wow, this is amazing! Who drew this?” she asks, “Her name is (y/n)” Bucky said, “Ohh she is a she?” Dot asks annoyingly, “Yes, babe” , “How do you know this (y/n) girl?” Dot asks again, “Rebecca found her actually and apparently she is Steve’s wife student at University of California” Bucky said, “I didn’t know that” Rebecca says, “I kinda eavesdropping her convo with Peggy on the phone” , “Thankyou so much, I really love this painting” Winifred hugs her children and kiss George, “Pleasure, my love” George smiles, “And if you guys meeting her again, tell her she has a great talent” they nodded at their mom, “Bucky can we talk?” Dot asks, “Sure” and she motion Bucky to the kitchen, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re meeting a girl today?” , “Really Dot? We’re doing this again? I just picked up the damn painting!” , “But it seems more than just a painting to me” , “I barely knew her Dot! Maybe I won’t meet her again” , “I don’t like the idea you’re meeting a girl besides me, your family, and your client” , “Dot, please it’s just me picking up the painting from the artist herself!” , “But you smiles when you say her name” , “Oh God so I have to be mad?!” , “Why are you raising your voice?” , “Cus you’re being ridiculous!” , “Listen James, I’m going to be your wife soon and you have to hear everything I say! I don’t want you to meet another girl besides me, your family, or clients!” , “Okay! Happy now?!” , “That’s my fiancé” on the other hand, Rebecca eavesdropping them and she just wants to punch Dot in her face.

Tags: @ficbucket@sergeant-angel@38leticia@douleu-passion@vivianbabz

Retrograde - Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[thank u all for interacting, i rly appreciate it!]


Jack had never met Sasha before, but he already knew he hated her. He’d only seen her in one of Rhys’ old photos that he took out when he was feeling nostalgic, although Jack knew that he kept it in the nightstand drawer on his side of the bed.

Sometimes, when Rhys wasn’t home, Jack would carefully take it out and look at it. Although he’d never say it to Rhys, he loved the goofy smile that he wore on his face in the photograph. It was the same one he wore whenever Jack cracked a stupid joke or said he loved him, but it looked different on his younger features. He had to have been no older than 17 when the photo was taken, sprawled out on a couch with his friends. One of them, a girl in a weird hat whose paleness nearly rivaled Rhys’, had her arms folded in mock annoyance. The blonde next to her, whom Jack recognized as Athena’s girlfriend Janey, was cracking a wide grin that showed off her braces. A Hispanic-looking kid could be seen lurking in the background, a bandana holding his ponytailed hair from his face and thick goggles hanging around his neck. He appeared to be laughing at what someone had said off camera. Jack wished he could ask Rhys what had been so funny– he knew that Rhys still remembered– but Rhys wasn’t particularly fond of talking about his life on Pandora, and Jack didn’t want to push him.

And then there was Sasha, whose mere presence pissed him off. She was on the couch next to Rhys, snuggled against his side. He had his right arm wrapped around her shoulders– his real arm, not the cybernetic one he had now– and Jack felt a twinge of jealousy. When was the last time Rhys had held him like that? He ached to be near him, to lean against his chest, to breathe in the sweet smell of his skin. After the fight, it was like he’d forgotten how to live on his own. He made a mental note to work in some extra cuddle time when this whole ordeal was over. But first, he thought grimly to himself, he needed Sasha’s help.

Keep reading

Sunsets and Stars (A Minghao Imagine)

Heyyy! Admin Erika here. This is my first time writing a fanfic. Also the first time to use tumblr, so I apologize for mistakes. It’s not really a great story, but I hope you’ll like it! I actually made this as thanks for 100 followers. I was already writing something but I squeezed this story out from my brain until it dried out and overcame writer’s block! Yaaay. Lol


Also posted in AO3:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/7944460

“It’s just that I don’t really like it when you tease me like that.” Minghao whined. God, why is he so adorable? “I know you know that I’m aware when you’re trying to make me jealous.” He slightly pouted, annoyance clearly evident in his voice. But you clearly weren’t taking this seriously, not mindful that he really got angry this time.

It’s because you’re like this that I like teasing you, you thought to yourself. How can he be so adorable even when he gets upset?

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” You chuckled a little. “I promise.”

“You better.” He crossed his arms.

“But you didn’t really have to be that mean to Jun. Poor guy left early, missing the sunset.” He didn’t really plan to watch it. Just the usual partners in crime (in teasing, for this matter) trying to mess with Minghao. You both apparently find it amusing. He left early just as he intended to do, to leave you love birds some privacy.

“So I’m the bad guy here, now?” He sighed and walked away from you. He stomped along the way and it left footprints in the sand as he walked barefoot.

Being the mischievous little girl you are, you constantly come up with ways to tease your boyfriend. He’s already aware of this side of you, he liked every part of you so every time you mess around him, he forgives you easily. So it left you in shock when he left you standing there, guilt crawling all over you.

You planned a little trip to the beach as a break from all the stressful things in uni. He was looking forward to this as there were little to no alone time between you two. But your naughty self couldn’t contain your misfits as you tried to make him jealous by calling Jun, his best friend, to join you. You only talked to him and you kept on laughing with him as the three of you sits by the beach side, waiting for the sunset. Minghao always gets jealous whenever you and Jun are together. Both of you are so mischievous and alike that Minghao sometimes bitterly jokes how both of you fit each other. He’s always been like this, taking things so seriously. Not that you hate it anyway.

You cleared your thoughts and tried to call him back. When he doesn’t answer, you ran to catch him but he noticed this even when he’s turned his back to you and ran as well. You kept shouting his name, not minding the stares a few people gave you. The beach is almost empty, but there’s a few people here and there, probably who’s also planning to watch the sunset.

You stopped a little to catch your breath. Damn him and his stamina. Even if he’s skinny and lanky, he’s got strength and muscles gained from years of b-boying and martial arts.

You rested your arms on your knees but when you looked up,
your boyfriend was out of sight. You stood straight and looked around but there were no signs of a certain Chinese guy.

You tried to look around more and even went back to the parking lot but you couldn’t find him. You thought of calling him but dismissed the thought when you realized you left your phones inside the car. After ten whole minutes frantically finding Minghao, you decided to take a break and found a small cottage nearby. As you walked near it, you noticed that certain that Chinese guy you were frantically searching for was standing beside it. You sped up your pace, relieved that you finally found him.

“Minghao! I’m really sor–” You stopped in your tracks as you noticed that he was looking at his feet, his cheeks tinted red. You were about to ask him what’s wrong when suddenly you heard sounds of pleasure coming from the small cottage you were about to enter in. Your face in turn blushed, too.

Minghao noticed your presence, immediately taking your hand and leading you to run away from that place. You shivered, realizing that you were about to enter that cottage and witness strangers doing ‘it’. If it wasn’t for Minghao and their loud moans, your innocent eyes would’ve been tainted. You didn’t know people could actually do something so intimate in a public place like a beach.

He stopped under a palm tree and you both huffed, trying to catch your  breaths. Moments passed by and your erratic breathing was exchanged with awkward silence.

“I’m sorry.” You broke the silence. “I won’t make any excuses. I just want to apologize for making you upset. I didn’t realize I was taking it too far.”

You looked at him, only to see that he was looking at the sunset. You don’t know if he heard you, but he didn’t answer you. You sighed and decided not to bother him any longer.

After with what seems like forever, he suddenly spoke. “We almost missed watching the sunset together.” You were surprised by his gentle voice. It was as if he already forgot the little catastrophe you created earlier. But what really amazed you was that he still thought of your initial plan, to watch the sunset together.

Minghao was mad, there’s no doubt about it. But after running a bit and refreshing his thoughts, his anger dissipated and was replaced by his desire to be with you. He couldn’t stay mad at you, he loved you too much for that.

“Yeah. I’m sorry for almost ruining our little time together.” You apologized again. “Actually, I think I already did.”

He looked at you with his gentle eyes and smiled. This little action made your heart flutter, making your breath hitch. You’ve seen him smile a lot of times, but it would always affect you so much and wonder how you deserved someone like him.

You smiled back. You wanted him to get mad at you, to scold at you, or scream at you. Anything. You felt really bad, recalling the times you kept on teasing him. You also thought that maybe the reason why he got so upset today was because he was looking forward to this day. You know you didn’t really have any alone time together, and yet you blew this one chance. You wanted to ask him why he forgave you easily but you knew better than to ruin this moment.

Both of you faced the sunset, relishing the moment. You watched the sun fall behind the horizon, painting the sky shades of red and yellow. As if having one brain, you both wished to stay like this forever.

Of course a wish like that was unlikely to happen. Before you know it, it was already getting dark so you asked him if he wanted to go home already.

“Nah. Let’s stay like this for a while. This could also be a chance to watch the stars, too.” He pulled you against him and you rest your head in his shoulder, making yourselves comfortable. No words were exchanged but this time, the silence wasn’t awkward. It was a nice moment with just the two of you. None of you kept in track with the time. Just cuddling under a palm tree and looking at the horizon. It was a peaceful summer night. Waves of the sea splashed and crashed into rocks and sands but later retreats. Its sound seeming to calm you. It was as if time is standing still and the world revolves just around the two of you.

The moon now makes its appearance, the dark sky looming above you. It wasn’t long until you noticed that stars shined so brightly. This side of town wasn’t full of light pollution, so seeing stars aren’t hard especially here in the beach. The reason why a lot of people camp out here.

“Hey, look. It’s the Ursa Major constellation and the Big dipper asterism.” You pointed up in the sky.

“You’re right. The sky looks clear today we can spot a lot of constellations.” He mused. “But the sky looks so dim tonight. Like the stars lost their twinkles and shine.”

“What? What do you mean?” You turned to him and asked him, confused.

He looked at you straight in the eye for a moment and said, “It seems you hold them all in your eyes tonight.” He also didn’t forget to wink.

You hit him lightly on his chest and rolled your eyes. “How cheesy.” Normally, you’d cringe and curl your fingers tightly, a habit you got from a certain classmate you have back at uni. But for some reason warmth spread around your face and your heart thumped wildly. You thanked the heavens it’s dark but you were still afraid he might be aware of your erratic heartbeat.

“You still swooned at that pick-up line anyway.” He chuckled. This guy knows you too well. He also noticed the fact that you were a bit shivering, even though it was a summer night. You’re just in front of a large body of water and it’s really windy of course it would be cold. “Come on, let’s go inside the car. It’s getting chilly.” Letting go of you, he stood up and held out a hand to help you get up.

The walk back was peaceful and you held hands all through out, his large hands never loosing grip. Yours was small but it seemed to fit his hand perfectly. As you arrived in front of his car he opened the door for you and he entered at the the driver’s side. You buckled your seat belts already but he didn’t start the engine immediately. Instead, he took your hand and kissed it.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, flustered. Your face is red again.

“Nothing. I’m just happy we bonded today even we’re busy at uni.” He smiled at you.

“Me, too.” You smiled back.

After a few moments, he leaned his head to you and grabbed your chin, looking at you in the eye and said, “Thanks for today. I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too, Minghao.” You leaned in, breaking the space between you and crashing your lips into his.

IF YOU’RE READING THIS THEN CONGRATS YOU SURVIVED. HOPE YOU DIDN’T DIE FROM TOO MUCH CHEESE AND GREASE LOL. Even I, myself, cringe at my own existence.
And yes, as you can see I’M A MINGHAO STAN. ALSO A CHINA LINE PROMOTER. AND A JIHOON-WRECKED. (Notice their appearances in this story, even Jihoon’s subtle appearance huehue)


ALSO PLEASE LISTEN TO STANDING EGG’S SUMMER NIGHT YOU AND I

It’s not really inspired by that song bit I suddenly remembered it and thought that it kind of suited the story? Haha

(You probably already discovered that song from Seungcheol from his birthday vlive)


-Admin Erika ;)