#honestly this was so fucking good I'm still reeling

[wizzard890]

Hey guys I invented a soup to use up all the leftovers in my fridge last night, and it turned out insanely, blisteringly good, so I’m gonna call it Emily’s Vaguely Thai-Inspired “Oops Everything Is About To Go Bad” Soup, and tell you how to make it.

INGREDIENTS (note: don’t be precious about the amounts, adjust as needed, I’m not your mom. you’re an artist and the heavy-bottomed dutch oven is your canvas)

three cups of any hearty mushroom, sliced (I used white and baby bella)

a stalk of lemongrass, bashed to reveal the tender insides and cut in two inch lengths

five large carrots, diced in rounds

one knob of ginger, around the size of your thumb, minced

three garlic cloves, minced

one red thai chili, diced

one large yellow onion, diced

fresh cilantro

3 cups veggie stock 

3 cups chicken stock 

(you can use better than bullion in water for either of these in a pinch, and if you want to bulk up the veggie stock, add all the trash bits of the onions and garlic and carrots and ginger and the tough outer leaves of the lemongrass with some peppercorns and star anise and let that puppy simmer for like ten minutes before straining.)

two giant handfuls of any sturdy leafy green, like bok choi, kale, or spinach

three eggs

one lime

fish sauce

coconut or brown sugar

frozen dumplings of any kind

gochujang paste

INSTRUCTIONS

add a few tablespoons of neutral oil to a large soup pot over medium heat

once the oil is shining, add the garlic, thai chili and ginger and sauté until fragrant

add the lemongrass and the onions, and continue to sauté until the onions are soft and translucent

in go the carrots, the zest of one lime, and three heaping tablespoons of your gochujang, stir stir stir until everything is tender and the paste has worked its way into all the nooks and crannies. 

pour in the strained veggie stock, bring to a boil, then down to a simmer. cover, and continue to simmer for ten minutes.

remove the lid, stir the reduced broth, and add your mushrooms and your chicken stock. make sure it’s all well combined. 

we’re going to start adjusting the flavor now: add two tablespoons of fish sauce, and a tablespoon of coconut sugar (brown will do if that’s what you have).

cover and simmer for another 10 minutes.

add more gochujang plus the juice from your naked lime and chopped cilantro to taste.

now you add your frozen dumplings and your greens and just keep an eye on them until they cook through. 

meanwhile, break the eggs into a bowl and scramble them with a fork. pour them into the soup in an even, unbroken stream while you stir. this will give you those pretty egg-drop ribbons.

serve in deep bowls and garnish with more cilantro and lime juice.

NOTES: like I said above, nearly everything in this recipe can be substituted, save for the aromatics, and if you’re a vegetarian you can just double the amount of veggie stock, instead of adding chicken stock. 

#honestly this was so fucking good I'm still reeling #no one who cooks cooks alone

[godofsmallthings]

dear john is just such a masterclass in songwriting and imo is undeniably one of the very best songs in taylor's discography for like 10 million reasons. the storytelling. the vocal performance. the guitar solo. the lyricism. the way it's both undeniable and plausibly deniable who it's about. the way it's a dear john letter!! the way she literally made it sounds like the music of the person it's about like godddd tell me that's not the most iconic meta level of musical storytelling ever!!!!! in some ways it's her 'you're so vain' and should be regarded as such. AND YET IT SOMEHOW STILL FEELS LIKE A DEEP CUT???

#honestly sometimes i wonder if the reason it doesn't get the critical acclaim that songs like atw do is because of how uncomfortable talking #about john mayer in this context makes middle aged men in the music industry feel #bc unfortunately i think one of the reasons atw is lauded as her best song (a worthy title!!) is because men decided it was good #and i hate that male opinions somehow legitimize what 'good' music is but it's also undeniable that they play a role #ik it's been almost a year but i'm still kind of reeling over how flippant rob sheffield's comments about wcs were #like yeah okay you can't imagine a man with a pretty documented history of treating people terrible treating someone terribly bc you used t #smoke with him backstage??? give me a fucking break #that's probably an exaggeration of what he said (i think he was more surprised bc it contrasted with his perception of jm at #that time so much but like. that just feels like bro code willful ignorance. idk.) #vi is typing...

[verstappen-cult]

Hello!!! First of all, I'm obsessed with your blog secondly I wanted to request something with Charles in which one of his friends pranks him with aphrodisiac chocolates, and he and the reader eat some of them 🫣 and the rest is up to you honestly you can ignore this if you want

The first thing you notice when you leave the grocery bag on the kitchen is an opened chocolate box.

Charles should’ve known better than to leave it there knowing how much you like chocolate. And you know he wouldn’t mind, so, you take one.

“Lando! For fucks sake you are not listening to me!” Charles' voice comes from his bedroom and you can hear the frustration in it.

You take the chocolate box with you as you make your way over to him.

Charles is pacing around his room, hand on his hips as he keeps yelling at Lando, who just laughs at him.

“Why is Lando making fun of you?” You ask, making your presence known. Charles turns around just in time to see you taking another chocolate into your mouth.

“What are you doing?!” Charles takes two long strides toward you and takes the box away, throwing it in the trash.

“Hey, I was eating those!”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me Y/N ate the chocolates too.” You're pretty sure Lando’s trying not to laugh while also sounding a little bit worried.

“What do you think, genius?” Charles rubs his face, defeated.

“I’m sorry, mate. I didn’t think—well, if you think about it, it’s good because now you’ll finally make a mov—”

Charles hangs up before Lando has time to finish. He throws the phone on his bed, groaning.

“If you didn’t want me eating your chocolates you could’ve just said so.” You shrug, looking at the trash.

“It’s not that,” He looks up at you and for the first time you notice that he’s sweating, face flushed. “they were special chocolates.”

“Oh,” You try not to show the disappointment in your voice. “a girl gave them to you! I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that, I just saw them and—”

“No, not that kind of special.” He’s quick to stop your mind from reeling with unwanted thoughts.

You tilt your head, not understanding what other kinds of special chocolates could be, when you feel a warmth wash over your body, and suddenly you feel like you’re wearing too many clothes.

“God, why is it so hot in here?” You take your sweater and sneakers off.

“What are you doing?” Charles sounds like he’s in pain. You see him take a few steps back, putting some distance between you two.

Charles’ hair is messy and he’s wearing that shirt you gifted him last Christmas. You never realized how good it looks on him before. Why didn’t you notice?

“I’m burning up,” You whine, grabbing your shirt to take it off. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bra before.”

“You need to go,” He rushes to grab your clothes, but you don’t move. “I’ll leave you a glass of water—just go to your room.”

“Charles, what the hell is happening?”

He sighs, letting his head fall forward. He needs to tell you. “Lando thought it would be fun to give me special chocolates,” He can’t say the words out loud, he just can’t. You still don’t understand, so he simply looks at you and then down. You follow his gaze only to find that there’s a bulge in his pants.

You choke on your own spit, realization crossing your mind.

The air feels thick with tension and the eye contact is so intense you feel something weird pooling in the pitch of your stomach. And then there are mouths crashing against each other and hands all over your body as you fall onto the bed.

Lando definitely doesn’t need to know that he did you and Charles a favor.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you

[transbunnyboi]

I'M BACK FROM MY DATE. My brain is so fuzzy and I'm soooo dizzy and I'm overwhelmingly horny right now ough my god!!! My face and body is so warm, I feel like I was drugged oh god. Okay so I'm still fucking reeling. This man. Jesus Christ.

So he shows up and we go to some restaurant (It's a local one) and we have food and we talk and !! he doesn't like drinking (neither do I, for some reason I'm scared of it?? But not weed? My brain is silly), and also he's vegan. SO we eat and then we talked FOR HOURS and he's so interesting and nice and he's a really good listener and oughhhh god !!!! Oh my god and his teeth are so pretty and that sounds so weird but like they're not perfectly straight and they're so cute and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!! So he takes me driving and just being in the car with him with his scent and his voice and his laugh and the slight fear of the fact that it's late at night and we're just driving around and he starts flirting with me and??? Also telling me like. Urban legends of the area and slowly creeping me out and I, not a normal person, started getting like. Absurdly turned on and shifting around in my seat and crossing and uncrossing my legs and we're on a dark desolate road and I wanted him to pull over and fuck me in the back and eventually we got back to my apartment complex and we parked in the dark area and he started talking and I asked if he'd 'kiss me goodnight' and he smiled and reached over and kissed me and I couldn't stop kissing him back.

He tastes sooooo so good just oh god, and we started making out in his car and my boycunt started aching soooooooo soo bad that it made my fucking legs shake and I want him so bad and my brain stopped working and I started begging him and I honestly don't even remember what I was asking for but I swear to god, my tdick started throbbing soo so bad and my cunt was dripping down my thighs and then he started unbuckling his belt and I literally started whining (I'm actually rlly embarrassed lmao) and I ended up sucking his cock and oh my god. I don't know what happened but I think my brain fucking re-wired. His cock tasted so fucking good and I'm soo dizzy from it. I can't even describe it but it slightly tasted like dirt and it slightly burned my tongue?? not burned but like???? I can't describe it and he kept leaking pre into my mouth and he was holding my hair back and guiding me and petting my hair with his other hand and ohhh god he was so vocal and he kept praising me and saying I was a good boy and I was so fucking horny that I was actually tearing up and I ended up stroking him until he came on my tongue dfhjgfdsfghjsdgf

He fixed himself up and took me to my apartment and my legs were so wobbly and I wanted him to fuck me so so so bad and he ended up kissing me again and again and when I asked for him to spend the night he said no, and kinda let out the softest little laugh (I was dripping down my leg) and said "You're greedy, huh?" and went "Not on the first date." I started trying to get him inside anyway because I was literally trembling and dizzy and I needed him so so bad and he kissed me AGAIN and smiled and said no and leaned in (I started shaking and panting, I was literally losing my mind) and he fuCKING GOES "and don't touch yourself tonight. If you do that, I mean."

He said he'd take me out tomorrow night because we're both off work and my boycunt is aching so bad and I'm so overwhelmingly horny and I can't stop whining and I'm laying on my bed with my ass up and I need to have fucking ANYTHING and I'm so so fucking horny and I cAN'T. I WANT TO DIE.

#ftm nsft #trans nsft #ftm ns/fw #t4t nsft #bd/sm pet #ftm bottom #ftm sub #ftm puppy #breeding pet #ftm t4t #edging and denial #edg1ng #edging kink #ftm breeding #ftm fag #trans bottom #ftm ns/ft #ns/fw #queer ns/fw #mlm nsft #mlm yearning #mlm thoughts #breeding toy #breeding k1nk #bunny brat #bd/sm bunny #subby bunny #dumb bunny #bunny sub #bunny boi

[coeurify]

THE PERFECT PAIR 2;

ELLIE WILLIAMS

·˚ ༘ * “But don’t think we could help it, no"

pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader. part one. summary: part TWO! you forgot to answer ellie, shes upset. you make up for it with a party, what could go wrong! wc 6.9k warnings: ig you could say slightly toxic friendship. ellies jealous. blink and you miss it jealous reader. almost.. sorta.. kinda kiss.. slight angst slight fluff.

You dreamt of the past a lot. Ever since you were little, more often than not, your dreams were much different than the other kids around you. When they spoke about their dreams of dragons and kings, you could only pipe in with the nostalgic nighttime story of your most recent favorite memory that played like a film reel while you slept.

Tonight, you dreamt of Ellie. You dreamt of your noses pressed to the glass of your parent’s car window, heads tucked side by side as you pulled up to a building. Large bulky letters read out the museum's name on a sign in the blue sky. The sky was always more blue in your dreams.

You had been twelve— just turning Thirteen, mere months into meeting. Ellie’s hair was always pulled back into a ponytail back then, strands of deep reddish brown hair peeking out of the hair elastics. Even now, with the muddy and watercolor-like painting of your dream, you could count the freckles on dream Ellie’s cheeks. It was your birthday, and you had been carted with Ellie to the museum near your house. A promise of a day full of Ellie laughing and tugging you around to explain the space section to you ensued.

You dreamt of Ellie’s slightly sweaty palm intertwined with your own as she pulled you around the crowded floors, gasping as she swore under her breath at every exciting exhibit. You would hush her each time, hitting her arm— just like you still did today.

You dreamt of your favorite exhibit. The one that made you love the stars so much. You had entered a dark room, only you and Ellie. Her voice was hushed as she pointed out different star patterns painted in glowing colors on the wall. That was the moment you knew you wanted Ellie to be your best friend.

You dreamt of the green Dinosaur plush Ellie had paid for with crumbled-up money in the back pocket of her jeans at the gift shop. The one she had shoved into your arms and exclaimed, “Happy Birthday!”

When you woke up, your face was pressed into that exact stuffed animal. Though the once soft fur was a bit rough now, almost seven years older, it was still more comfortable than the pillows below your head. It still held that sense of nostalgia you laid to rest every night that other options didn’t.

Your eyes squeeze before they open, arms reaching to pull the dinosaur against your chest instead. You imagine it’s just as new as it had been the day Ellie got it for you. You imagine the sky is as blue as it was in your dream, that you and El were still those carefree pre-teens. But then your alarm goes off.

Fucking Mondays. Blinking a few times to adjust to the light pouring into your eyes, you reach blindly for your phone. Fingers wrap around it a moment later, the bright screen causing another wave of blurriness to your sleepy eyes. Even through the patchy vision, it's clear that you have a few notifications.

From Ellie.

Multiple. From last night.

“Fuck,” you groan out loud this time, gaining the attention of Dina from across the room. She’s already sitting up, scribbling away in a notebook that you assume to be rushed classwork.

“You ok?”

A hand comes to wipe across your face, rubbing the skin of your cheek gently. Dina asking is sweet, but you struggle to answer honestly. “I'm good, yea. I just have to see Ellie.”

You’re up and out of bed before Dina can ask further questions, stomach turning as you look at your phone screen again. The three separate texts make you feel a little sick, especially the last one that came hours later— likely when Ellie was already frustrated.

It shouldn’t make you so queasy, something as simple as sleeping through texts. But it was Ellie. You never missed Ellie’s texts like that. Especially not her asking you to come over.

You trip over the small rug near your bed as you rush to the connected bathroom to change, earning a gasped laugh from your roommate.

“Jesus, slow down,” she calls to you through the shut bathroom door, but you’re too focused on the task currently at hand— pulling the shirt over your head without bumping into something else.

Dina watches your panicked-looking face as you step back out into the floor of your shared bedroom a few moments later, her lips pursing in confusion.

“Did Ellie die or something?” Dina jokes with curious seeming eyes, pressing her notebook closed. “You’re running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”

You shake your head with a small half-assed smile, “No- I just uh- I forgot I promised to meet her this morning,” it seemed easier to lie than to admit your heart was in your throat because you slept through a movie invitation. Your hand goes for the sweatshirt bunched up on the floor, pressing your fingers into the cloth of the grey sleeves. It was a bit too warm to wear it, you know that, but there's a sense of comfort that soothes the aching in your stomach when it's pulled over your head, and you move to the door.

“Hey,” Dina pipes up as you step across the threshold, “Jesse and I are going to a friend’s tonight, Danny. He’s got some off campus apartment he’s having a little party at. Do you... Wanna come?” The question falls from Dina’s lips simply, her attention moving from your eyes to the top she's readjusts after a night of sleep. But the way her gaze flicks up a few times tells you that this was an important question for the brunette.

“On a Monday?”

“Oh!” your roommate’s nose crinkles as she mulls over the fact that yes-- it was in fact a Monday, which wasn't exactly the perfect day for a party. “Yea, I guess that’s not helping my case hm? I promise it won't be crazy. Dan’s friends are chill.”

You think about it for a second, shifting from one foot to another. It was a good opportunity to get closer to Dina. To maybe make some new friends you had come to have missing space for after Jade and you stopped talking, putting you down her and all her friends. But it was a Monday, and you definitely couldn’t have a hangover for your sociology lecture on Tuesday. Instead of pointing any of this out though, you find yourself instead asking...

“Can I bring Ellie?”

It seemed Dina was expecting this question, waving a hand your way. “Yea, I already told Jesse it’d be two people.” For some reason, that admission has your neck feeling a little hot. Your eyes find the wall to try and cover the awkward noise your throat makes.

“Ok.. yea, cool. I should be able to go. My last class is like three today.” Your feet bounce just lightly as you speak, which Dina notices.

Dina smiles, clapping her hands together. “Great. Now shoo before you start vibrating in your spot or something.”

You nod, offering another smile before your dash out into the hallway. Instead of turning and heading for Ellie’s dorm, you make a beeline for the elevator. It was early in the morning. Too early to show up pounding at Ellie’s door when she was likely grumpy from the sun and the previous night. No, you needed a peace offering.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

That peace offering came in the shape of slightly cold dorm cafeteria french toast and waffles, tucked into a styrofoam takeout box. It was Ellie’s favorite, but she always woke up too late for them. Stingy college kids always stole them all before the first 9 am classes even started.

You held the styrofoam in your free hand as you reached forward to knock at the door. Before you could, it flew open-- both you and the person at the door jumping. You are met with the sight of dark hair and wide blinking brown eyes. Rose. They smile apologetically at you, repeating your name and different versions of ‘sorry’ as they press past you to get through the door.

Ellie’s roommate was sweet, but they were always running around with something to do, so you didn’t see much of them. At this point, Rose didn’t even question why you were always at their dorm-- you probably spent more time there anyway.

Your eyes follow as Rose hurries down the hallway, a nice distraction to the shuffling you hear from inside the now open door. “Hello?” a groggy voice asks. It forces you to look back to the doorway, met with the sight of a very sleepy looking Ellie. Her arms are crossed over her comic teeshirt-clad chest, hair messy behind her ears. You find yourself focusing on the straight line her lips are pulled into, and then the crease in between her furrowed eyebrows. You wonder for a moment if pressing your thumb to it would smooth it out.

“Hi..” you try, blinking at her as both your bodies shift into the dorm.

For a moment, it’s silent. You look around the dimly lit dorm you had seen a hundred times, acting like it was a brand new vision so you didn’t have to look at Ellie. Eventually though, you suck in a breath.

“You totally ignored my te-”

“I didn't see your tex-”

The two sentences lap over each other in unison, messy and rushed. Both voices are cut short when the opposite peaks. You let Ellie finish first, your mouth sealed shut.

“You ignored me last night,” Ellie mumbles, stepping toward her side of the room. The posters that cover the corner near her bed are starting to peel at the sides a little, and you have to fight the urge to ask if she has tape. Now is definitely not the time.

“I was talking to Dina then fell asleep, didn't ignore you,” you correct your friend, footsteps following her own. You still grip the take-out box as you watch Ellie tug a hair tie off her desk, fingers (you oddly couldn’t look away from) pulling the hair up into the usual bun.

“It was like barely even six or something, but whatever, I get it, roommate shit,” Ellie muttered-- as if she didn't know the exact time you stopped answering. As if she hadn’t had a mini breakdown over having to watch a shitty action movie alone.

You find a slight flame of annoyance in your gut, mixing with the guilt already settling there. “Ellie, I was tired I fell asleep. I'm sorry.”

Ellie, stubborn as ever, shrugs. “Yea, it’s whatever.”

“Don’t be like that,” you whine, hand reaching to grab at her wrist. The touch burns, even more when she pulls it away.

“I’m not being like anything.”

You groan, and the childish urge to stomp comes to mind, but you ignore it. “You're being all.. passive-aggressive.”

“I’m not. I said it’s ok, peach. Just stop.”

The nickname is a blatant attempt to make her annoyed tone a little less severe, something to ease the growing tension. You would like to say it didn’t work, but it did. You and Ellie were much better at avoiding the issues than dealing with them. Usually, they were painted over with sweet nicknames or offers to go out and do something. It always worked. You relax slightly and hold out the box for Ellie to see.

“I brought a peace offering. Knew you’d be all grumpy.” you wave the food box a little, pressing it closer to her chest.

Ellie scoffs as she grabs the box and sits on her bed. “I am not grumpy,” she mutters with a very grumpy-looking frown.

You kick a dirty shirt away from her bed as you sit next to her, settling on the blanket and watching her open the box.

“Waffles.. fuck yea!” She grabbed the waffle with her hands, like there wasn't a fork right there with the box, and bit into it. It makes your lip curl a little, but morning Ellie was not someone to be messed with, so you say nothing. Instead, you look around the room, your fingers playing with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Not sure what to say next, you lick your lips.

“Uh, good peace offering?” Ellie nods in response, swallowing a mouth full of lukewarm waffle before speaking.

“I’ll give it a 5.5/10.”

You make a shocked face, mouth dropping open. “A five? I fought off like three hungover guys for these!” you shove her shoulder, earning a grumble.

“Yea, and you made me watch a movie alone,” Ellie takes another bite of her waffle.

The light feeling that began to build had dropped as quickly as your heart, a lump in your throat. “Yea, my bad.”

Ellie looks at you, jade eyes moving around your face as she swallows. “ ‘m joking, thank you..” her tone is just a tad softer, but you still feel all too itchy now, an urge to get up and go settling over your frame.

You nod, a slightly fake raise of your lips attempting to comfort her as you stand, “I have to get ready for class, but uh, I sort of told Dina we’d go to a party...Would that be a better peace offering?”

“Its a mon-”

“I know, I know, but please, El, I really wanna get close with Dina,” your voice borders on a beg, fingers pinching at your sweatshirt. “Weren’t you the one who encouraged me to?”

Ellie sighs at that, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah, I guess I was. Shit- fine. But my astronomy class gets out later than your English. I cant drive you.”

It made you want to smile, the way Ellie had already memorized both of your schedules. The earlier discomfort from her slight attitude melted away as something warmer bloomed in your stomach.

Maybe you and Ellie were a bit dramatic. You had been told that many times actually. The way you could get so upset at each other for something simple and yet still fall all over each other the moment something sweet happened. Sometimes you wonder if other friends have these turbulent of feelings for each other, but you ignore it with a nod. “That’s fine. I’ll catch a ride with Dina.”

Ellie turns her head momentarily, shrugging and covering a slightly noticeable pout with an awkward reach for the french toast in the takeout box. “Just text me the address.”

You nod, saluting Ellie as you step into the dorm door. “Will do.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and shoos you off, “Get going.”

“Bye, love you El!” you shout through the door. The loving words came easily, something you had said every so often ever since you two were younger. Ellie didn’t say it as much, but you didn’t mind.

“Bye, peach,” Ellie called, the nickname receiving an eye roll. One she couldn’t see this time.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

4:30 pm came too soon. By then, you were back at your dorm, shoving a stack of books on your already messy desk and flopping back on your bed.

“Who even has a party at 6 pm on a Monday?” you question your roommate, who was currently fixing the mascara she had applied. You words flow over the soft music Dina had turned on, a low hum from her desk.

“College students who have a slight alcohol dependency,” Dina shrugged.

“Fair enough,” you laugh, flipping onto your stomach to watch her walk around the orange-lit room. You hadn’t even begun to get up and get ready, focused instead on watching your roommate’s routine as she walked around.

“It's only gonna be like fifteen people or something,” Dina shrugs as she pulls out a chapstick tube, applying it over her lips.

“Hm..” you nod like that made it any better. Fifteen people you had probably never met before, when you were tired from classes. Yea. You would definitely need a drink.

Dina looked over at you, a grin spreading on her lips as she walked over to you, her fingers gripping your wrist. “Get up. Jesse’s gonna be here soon!”

“I don’t even know what to wear,” you whine, letting your roommate drag you into a sitting position as you meet her eyes. They narrow, and she tugs you again, this time to stand.

“Just wear that! Well, take off the sweatshirt but jeans and a shirt is fine. That’s what I'm wearing.” Dina shrugs as she lets her fingers reach for the bottom of your sweatshirt, the pout never leaving your lips. You didn’t want to remove it, but she urged you to with a friendly tug.

“C'mon, show me your closet. I’ll help you pick a shirt.”

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

When you got into the back of Jesse’s car, you completely shut down. Your lips were shut so long you swore they may have stuck together. He was friendly, sure! He cracked jokes you betted Ellie would laugh at, he complimented Dina’s outfit as soon as you got in the car, and grinned when you introduced yourself. But you had taken more than a week to openly speak to your roommate, so her boyfriend wasn’t exactly the easiest to chat to.

Dina didn’t mind, making sure to include you every now and again in whatever conversation the two had going, smiling back at you from the passenger seat as you pressed into the black cushion of Jesse’s car. You found yourself staring out the window, eyes flitting over each street lamp they passed, watching as the sky dimmed just lightly as the minutes seemed to drag by.

Eventually, the car stopped outside an apartment complex, and you peered through the glass at the tall buildings. Jesse pulled the keys from the car as he rushed out and around the other side. It was too late for what he was planning, Dina opening the door right as he reached for it, in turn smacking the metal door right in the stomach and face.

“Ow! Babe!”

Dina covered her mouth with a hand, a muffled snicker only slightly concealed. “Why the fuck did you run into the door?”

Jesse looked at his girlfriend incredulously, rubbing his sore nose, “I was trying to be a gentleman!”

“Since when were you a gentleman?” Dina questioned as she stepped out of the car; you only a moment behind as your feet found the gravel under you.

Jesse calls your name, eyes directed at you. “C’mon. Back me up. You saw me going to open the door right?”

Your nose scrunched, lips parting for the first time in too long, “I kinda did, yea..”

The boy makes a quick motion with his hands to say ‘see?’, Dina shakes her head as she steps back, arm looping yours. The touch makes you stiffen a bit, but Dina’s always warm smile calms you.

“Stop using my roommate in your little lies,” she muttered, though the smile never faltered as you walked up to a ground-floor apartment door. Jesse mumbles a few nonserious complaints as he knocks at the wooden door.

It opens quickly, a ginger guy who seemed about your age answering, cheeks full of freckles raising into a smile. It makes you wonder when Ellie will be here.

“Dee! Jesse!” The boy greets, eyes finding yours, “Oh and Dee’s roommate!”

Dina rolls her eyes as she pulls you inside the cooled apartment, your skin pricking slightly. At least it wasn’t humid like all those frat parties Jade brought you to. You still find yourself wishing you had your sweatshirt, though. “She's got a name, Danny..” your roommate chastises before introducing you two.

“Her friend’s coming later,” Dina explains as she leads you into a living room that looks much too small to house fifteen or so tipsy college students. You guess the attached kitchen will act as more space, with a few plates of snacks and bottles already stacked on the island.

You let the conversation that begins between the three friends about when everyone will be here filter out as you explore the area with your eyes. A couch and a few seats... you could probably hide away on one of those..

Your plan to avoid human contact is quickly ended when Jesse shoves a glass in front of your face, “Drink?”

Your fingers wrap around the glass without a second thought. Alcohol was your friend tonight, the only one until Ellie arrived. Usually, the only two things that could make you talkative, you had to settle for it. “Thanks,” you mumble, groaning as the taste of Titos with too little coke finds your throat.

Ok, you could do this.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

Ellie couldn’t decide what flannel to wear. Maybe that sounds crazy. It’s a flannel, not a suit— for some small get-together. But she wondered which you would recognize first. Not that she cared about you liking her clothes or anything.

This indecision is what got her in the current situation, sitting outside the address you had given with two flannels in her hand.

Her car was cold, and the wifepleaser she wore without any coverage didn’t exactly stop the goosebumps from finding her skin. A scowl came to her face as she inspected the brown and blue shirts.

“Fuck it,” she groaned, tossing both options into her passenger side as she instead leaned over to the back, grabbing the black sweatshirt she’d worn to classes today. Ellie brought it to her nose, checking it didn’t smell or anything— and shrugged. “Good enough,” she muttered to herself before pulling it on and leaving the car.

It felt odd, to be walking up to a door she didn’t know, especially without you. She may be constantly telling you to put yourself out there, but Ellie was just a big hypocrite. It’s not like she really did anything totally spontaneous either, aside from a few club outings or drunk hookups. She had s lot to say about you putting yourself out here, but here she was, playing nervously with her fingers outside a party.

One quick check of the two of your texts confirmed the metal letters next to the door were correct, so she knocked rather harshly.

Immediately Ellie regretted that, cheeks pink as she pulled the hand away. There's a chorus of voices and shuffling behind the wood, and Ellie finds herself searching for yours.

Instead, a taller man opens the door, black hair messy, cheeks slightly flushed from what Ellie assumes to be drinks.

“Hey, uh—“ his head turns, searching behind him. Ellie thinks she may slam her head on the wall right then, embarrassed by the obvious fact this guy had no fucking clue who Ellie was.

The embarrassment from this didn’t last long; the man stepped to the side slightly as a booming voice interrupted them. This embarrassment cut much deeper into Ellie’s stomach. It painted her cheeks bright red.

“ELLIEEEE!” a voice shouts. She finds you, eyes wide and smile on your face as you open your arms. Oh you are so fucking drunk, aren’t you? You rush toward the auburn-haired girl, wrapping her into a tight hug, your arms pressing around her in a way that had her cursing her family for passing over the wobbly knees over pretty girls gene.

God, she has got to stop calling you pretty.

Ellie stumbles back with the force of your attack, patting your back awkwardly as her chin juts down to your shoulder.

Ellie's eyes meet the black-haired guy again, “She drunk?” she asks as you sway the both of you. The way you shove her chest and scoff gives her an answer. You only got offended at the accusation when you were drunk.

“I am not drunk! Just a little tipsy.”

The guy behind you makes a ’so so’ motion with his hand, drawing a grin out of Ellie.

“Righttt..” Ellie nods, letting you unwrap yourself from her. She watches as your head turns, “Oh! Ellie, this is Jesse, Dina’s boyfriend.. Jesse, this is Ellie,” you make a few awkward looks between the two, huffing.

Jesse smiles at Ellie, nodding his head to the hall. “I’ll meet you two in the living room!”

“Yea, yea sure,” Ellie nods and smiles the best she can manage when you trip over your feet back into her. The annoyance that had layered her being earlier in the morning was steadily decreasing as your eyelashes fluttered, staring at you. How could she stay angry at you for .. ‘missing’.. her texts when you looked so pr—

So nice.

“They’re so cool, El,” you whispered to her, hand finding her arm. You had a tendency of becoming touchy when you got a drink or two in you, and usually that affected Ellie, the one closest to you most times. “Yea?” she asks in response

It wasn’t like Ellie minded it. If anything, she would rather it be here you got all.. grabby with. A memory of you clinging to Jade a few times last year came to the forefront of Ellie’s ever-moving mind, making bile rise in her throat. Instead of thinking about why, she just bumped your shoulder, eyeing the shirt you wore. It wasn’t your usual style, nor a shirt she had seen you wear before. You seemed to notice Ellie’s gaze, clapping a hand on the red fabric.

“It’s Dina’s,” you explain, leading Ellie into a now slightly stuffy living room. The porch door was open now. A few people squished into the small outdoor space, and a few others in the kitchen. Though the main group was all huddled on the couches, chatting and laughing in a way that seemed much too close for Ellie and you to interrupt.

Even in your tipsy state, Ellie felt you shy away slightly, until Dina’s head popped up from a seat and grinned. “Over there,” you hum— again dragging Ellie with you.

Ellie kind of knew Dina. In a ‘I have a class or two with you and we have smiled at each other in the dorm hallway’ sort of way, due only to the shared face they both knew— you. Dina seemed sweet enough, even if you hadn’t yet babbled about that to Ellie.

Dina seemed nice, so Ellie shouldn’t feel a swoop in her stomach when you returned the smile to your roommate, but she did. The feeling bubbles in Ellie’s throat for only a moment before she swallows it down with a huff as you pull her to sit on her couch.

“Hey, Ellie,” Dina greets the girl when the two of you sit, her mouth then coming to wrap around the cup in her hand.

“Hey, Dina,” Ellie nods her head, looking around at the group.

You pipe in before the silence can get too awkward, a grin lacing your pretty lips. “Dina and Jesse were arguing over what movie to watch b’fore you got here,” you explain, head leaning toward Ellie’s shoulder. She moves it before your cheek can find the sweatshirt clad skin, a frown replacing the curl of your lips.

Dina uses this as an opportunity to delve right back into what seemed to be a half hearted argument, head shaking. “He wants to watch Jurassic Park for the like fifteenth fucking time,” she glared at Jesse, who Ellie could guess was her boyfriend.

“Hey,” Ellie butts in, “Jurassic Park is good.”

“Thank you!” Jesse shouts. “Someone with good fucking taste!”

Dina scoffed, “Maybe the first time, not the fifteenth. I said we should watch a horror movie,” the ponytail-wearing girl explained. Ellie is listening to the argument, sure, but she’s mainly focused on how your cheeks raise a bit every time either of the couple says something funny.

“Ellie,” a voice calls the girl out of her little daze, green eyes finding the lips that had asked the question, Dina’s.

“Huh?”

“I asked what your favorite movie is. Jesse thinks you must have great taste since you like Jurassic Park.”

“Shawshank Redemption,” Ellie says without thinking— the answer she always gave when people asked.

You make a noise beside her, shaking your head quickly. “Oh fuck off Ellie,” your eyes find Dina and Jesse, “She’s totally lying. Just saying that ‘cuz Joel likes it, and it’s not lame.”

The couple doesn’t question who Joel is, but the little comment has Ellie biting her lip in embarrassment.

“Her favorite movie is like—the Star Wars prequels,” you continue.

“they are not!” Ellie quickly shouts, shoving you. Dina smiles a little at the act, sharing a glance with Jesse that has Ellie looking a little flushed.

“You’re just saying that because I told you It was one of the movies that made me gay,” Ellie accuses, making you roll your eyes.

“You made me watch that shit every Friday for like two years cause of Padme. Think we’ve watched shawshank like once. And it was with Joel.”

“Oooh, your girl’s calling you a liar,” Jesse whistled, leaning forward from his place perched on the side of the couch.

Your girl. The words wrap around Ellie’s throat in a way that makes it hard to breathe, nails of each syllable digging into the freckles in her neck.

Don't go there.

“She thinks I lie about everything, worst friend ever,” Ellie sighs, the friend part coming out a little too forced.

“I am the best friend ever,” you shake your head, “You just lie a lot.”

“I’ve never lied in my whole life!”

Ellie is met with a harsh pinch on her arm, yelping as she feels the burn. “Ow!”

You stick your tongue out childishly, leaning into Dina to protect yourself when Ellie’s hand reaches out to punch you.

The fight is interrupted when a new person joins the group, ginger and tall. “We’re playing spin the bottle,” he points to the group forming on the carpet, Ellie’s nose tilting up a bit. Spin the bottle, really?

“Lameee,” Dina calls, arms wrapping around you as you gasp.

“Wait, no, that sounds fun! We should play!” you say, shocking both Ellie and Dina.

“We need to get vodka in you more often,” Dina claps your shoulder and raises into a more proper position. Ellie has to bite back an annoyed scoff. You definitely didn't need to be like this more often.

Sure, Ellie wanted you to find more comfort in being outgoing, but she didn’t want you to find that in the bottom of a cup of vodka and coke.

“El, play with us?” you question, eyeing the freckled face.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She agrees, though it’s mostly so she can sit next to you and maybe mind-control the bottle to steer clear of your direction.

All three of you, followed by Jesse and then the ginger, stand and make your way to the smaller group on the ground. The ginger introduces them all, But Ellie isn't paying much mind. Instead, she focuses on getting you to sit without stumbling.

“How much vodka did you have, peach?” she mumbles against your ear so no one else can hear.

“Uh, like two mixed drinks? I'm fine, just overtired.” You push off her accusations of being drunk again, grinning lightly at her as if it would prove you were sober somehow.

Ellie doesn't respond, eyeing Dina as she takes the spot next to you on the other side, and then Jesse next to her. She was surprised the couple was playing, but the way Dina made an ‘Im watching you’ motion to Jesse told her enough they weren't taking the game too seriously.

It made her a bit jealous, how comfortable and.. not possessive a couple like that could be with each other. Yet here she was, a sick stomach just from the thought of a girl that was only her friend kissing someone. She needed to get a fucking grip.

“Ok, who first?” a brunette girl across from Ellie asks, eyeing the empty beer bottle in the middle. The ginger volunteered, and Ellie clocked out again.

She had no interest in watching a bunch of straight people kiss each other drunkenly, instead eyeing the posters and paintings on the living room walls. She took a few photos of space she recognized, and some movie posters that looked like they were from the 80’s. Whoever lived here seemed to have good taste. Ellie eyed the group curiously, wondering who it may be.

About five minutes later, Ellie returned to earth when someone said your name. “You wanna go next?” The ginger man asked, to which you nodded— thought a little less enthusiastically now. Maybe the vodka had begun to sweat its way out of you, or maybe watching a bunch of people kiss before now had made you a little less excited. Ellie couldn't be sure which.

Ellie watches as your fingers wrap around the bottle, shaking enough that only she would really notice. The girl thinks she may actually pass out from how hard she holds her breath.

When it begins to slow down, it’s almost right back to yourself, and Ellie starts to think she actually can mind control things. But instead, almost worse than it landing on anyone else, it lands right on her.

Everyone around you two whoops, and she can hear Dina’s voice carrying over everyone else’s.

It’s probably a little funny to look at the two reactions. Your face pulled into a shit-eating grin, puckering your lips and pressing your hands to the ground so you could lean closer. And then Ellie’s, face dropped like she had seen a ghost of a loser lesbian’s past.

Honestly, Ellie did—the ghost of a particular memory from her fifteenth year.

You lean in, nose brushing Ellie’s. Her ears go deaf, ringing as your breath puffs against her shaking lips. Right as they begin to touch, a fire rips between the small space of air there. A fire that has Ellie almost yelping out loud, pulling right back before she can taste the vanilla bean of your chapstick flavor.

“Hey!” you cry out, obviously not taking this as seriously as Ellie. No, you seemed more annoyed that she ruined the game. But she was pressing her fingers into the floor, burning from the way it hurt the flesh there to stop the hammering in her chest.

This was a totally normal reaction, Ellie decided, definitely.

“You ruined the game!” you cry, shoving Ellie’s shoulder enough to have her blinking quickly.

Dina shoves a shot glass in front of Ellie’s face before she can settle the heartbeat in her ears.

“You pussy out, you drink,” the brunette singsongs.

“I’m driving,” Ellie turns her head, standing up. Your eyes follow her, burning into the side of her cheek as she wipes sweaty palms on her jeans.

The mood dampens, but only for you and Ellie. The rest of the group goes back to playing. Ellie knows by the gasp that wafts through her pounding eardrums as she begins to walk away.

Soon, the stomping footsteps of your tipsy self follow behind. “El,” you whisper yell, grasping her arm. This time, Ellie lets you.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask, eyes searching the red-tinted freckles on her face. “I didn’t mean to. It was just a game. I'm just trying to impre—”

“It’s fine,” Ellie assures you, faking the best smile she can. It should be honest; she has no reason to be upset right now. But she is. Her chest aches with the urge to go back in time and just let you do it.

“I'm just really tired, not in the partying mood.”

“Then let's go home,” you say quickly, probably searching to ease the discomfort Ellie knows she’s radiating. “I’ll stay at your dorm tonight, ok?”

God, Ellie’s such a fucking goner.

“Yea, ok. You’re definitely drunk anyway.”

“I am not!” you pout, releasing Ellie from your bruising grip. “Let me go tell Dina, I’ll be back.”

Ellie watches as you trip a bit over your feet, a habit you really need to shake, and sighs.

The silent show is not long-lasting, the brunette from the circle earlier arriving at Ellie’s side. She had kind eyes, and a bottle of water in her hand.

“Hey, it’s Ellie right?” she asks. Ellie finds herself watching the blue in her eyes.

“Yea,” Ellie nodded.

“You taking her home?” the girl asks again, in reference to you. She hands the water bottle to Ellie. “Give her this, don’t think she’s had any.”

Ellie grips the water bottle, squeezing it a bit. “Uh, thanks.”

“No problem,” she grins, one almost like yours. “My roommate’s always throwing these things and then never giving people water,” the blue eyes roll.

Ellie perked up at that, “You live here?” She thinks again of the space decorations in the living room.

“Yeah!” the brunette smiles again, “Me and Danny. I'm Luna,” she explains.

“Oh shit, wait,” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow together, “Luna..” something clicks in the green-eyed girl’s mind. “We have that physics class together, don’t we?

Luna seemed a little flushed, “Oh.. y-yea-”

The rest of her sentence falls on deaf ears when you trample into the hallway again, all senses only honing in on you, like usual. You seem to pause for a moment, eyeing the two others in the hallway.

But soon, you’re moving right by Luna, arm wrapping around Ellie’s. “Told Dina, all good to go,” you wipe a hand over your face with a little dramatized yawn.

“Thank Luna,” Ellie says again before she grabs you right back, leading you out the front door.

“You have got to stop drinking vodka. You know how you get,” Ellie mutters against you when the cool night air hits her already raised skin.

“I wanted to have fun!”

“Yea, good luck with fun tomorrow at your lecture.”

“Skippingggg it,” you mumble as Ellie ushers you into the passenger seat, the door squeaking like usual. Your ass lifts to grab the two shirts under it. “Why are there flannels in here?”

“Uh—” Ellie flushes, “I dunno.” She shuts your door before getting into her own side.

“Mm..” you sigh, already pressing your cheek to the cold glass of her window. “Who was that girl you were talking to?” you ask as the purr of the engine starts. Ellie throws the water bottle in your lap.

“A classmate, drink that.”

You look at Ellie for a moment, and Ellie stares right back. “.. Ok.”

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

“Shhh,” Ellie mutters, ushering you through the dark dorm hallway. “Can I wear your bear shirt? The super oversized one?” you babble, knocking yourself into Ellie’s door with a yelp.

“You’re such a fucking dumbass,” Ellie snickers, making quick work of unlocking the door while you nurse the bump on your head.

“Shhhh!” you mock her, flipping the light switch of her dorm on. Your finger presses to your lip in a quiet motion, kicking your shoes off. Rose wasn't here, as usual.

Ellie’s throwing the shirt with a cartoon bear at you before you lift yourself back up, and you happily tug Dina’s shirt off. Ellie is flipping away before the fire in her chest can return, throwing a pair of sweatpants behind her head so she doesn’t have to look.

“Ow!” you cry, probably from a large jumble of grey fabric hitting you.

Ellie pulls off her sweatshirt and changes her jeans for some shorts, counting to sixty before she turns around. Just to be safe.

You were already lying in her bed, pressing on the right side near the wall, eyes fluttering shut.

Ellie watches you for a moment, watches how your fingers grip at one of the blankets on her bed, thumb rubbing over it. She noticed the self-soothing motion of that years ago, how you always rubbed something between your fingers. The sleeve of your shirt, a pillow corner, a blanket. Sometimes, Ellie wishes it was her arm you did it to instead.

Don't go there.

The light flicks off, drowning the room in only the hue that came from the little pink nightlight on her roommate’s side of the dorm. Ellie is sleepily making her way to the bed, eyes catching on your now sleeping figure.

Alcohol also made you sleep really fucking easy. Ellie learned that prom night when you fell asleep in the car to the afterparty.

She watches how your lips part slightly as you breathe, and swears out loud. “Fuck.”

Ellie is so fucked. She wanted to snap her fingers and get a do-over. Wanted to be back in that loud house, back to smelling the vodka on your breath as you leaned in. She wanted to try again.

But she can’t, and she shouldn’t. So she climbs into bed next to you, pulls the blanket from between your thumb, and lets you shift, turning in bed to face the wall. She lays the blanket over you and sucks in a shaky breath.

She watches your back and presses her eyes closed to try and remove the overwhelming vision of you that invades every single one of her waking moments. And the ones after that.

Ellie falls asleep watching your back, and wonders if that’s all she will ever get.

series taglist: @darlingmisa @saintels @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @catkirkfan @lvrellie @gimalo135 @oatmilkchaii @corpsebridenightamare @oggystine93 @eddies-bat-tattoos @belliesgf @simiinthemirror @els-heart @iloverue @zourqz @ellitelesbo @bae-o-clock @elliesgff @gumdropkoo @sawaagyapong @gold-dustwomxn @jajsnjz @sleepyangelkami

#the perfect pair ❀. #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams angst #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou 2 #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic

[toomuchracket]

all i want for christmas (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

back from the dead (a depressive episode) with a fluffy pre-dating fic that's honestly longer than it needs to be. whatever. it's christmas. this fic is also part of christmas75/twelve days of christmas, organised and curated by my lovely friend @abiiors. hope you all enjoy <3

wednesday, 3:34am

as soon as the “email sent” pop-up appears, you feebly close your laptop and lay your head on the desk, ready to finally give in to the sleep that's been edging ever closer to your eyelids for the past hour. but before you get the chance, your phone buzzes with an incoming notification, the vibrations rattling through the wood of the desk and into your skull.

swearing, your voice scratchy with underuse, you open one eye and tilt the screen towards you - the name it bears above the unread text makes you shoot back up to a sitting position, and knocks all traces of grumpiness and tiredness from your brain and body.

matty.

pointedly ignoring the butterflies in your stomach when you see he's opened his message with hi, darling, you continue reading: hope you're alright, and that the new book isn't kicking your arse too much. saw a group of kids in barnes & noble raving about your last one earlier. would've joined them if i wasn't in a hurry, to be honest. fucking brilliant. anyway, i know it's late, but i had to text you before i forgot. can you give me a call when you get this, darling? flying home early tomorrow so i'll be up from about… 8am your time? i've got a favour to ask you. nothing crazy, though, and nothing urgent. but yeah, just phone me when you can. thanks, darling. miss you, talk to you soon. bye! X

just as you're reeling from the three darlings and the kiss and the miss you, another text from your best friend comes in, accompanied by a photo: also look at who you were next to on this display. i got so excited. my three favourites!

you laugh out loud, a combination of shock at the fact your collection is between slouching towards bethlehem and consider the lobster and adoration at matty's beaming face next to it all. fuck, he's cute.

so cute. enough for you to forget that it’s 3 o'clock in the morning, and happily pick up your phone and dial his number - you've spent so much time poring over your message threads that you know it off by heart - as if it was mid-afternoon. you kick your legs back and forth as the call connects, smiling to yourself at the thought of hearing his voice for the first time in over a month.

luckily, you don't have long to wait; your heart flutters as he picks up on the second ring, voice thick in the way it only goes when he's smoking. “you know, you didn't have to call me right away, darling. thought you'd have been asleep. but hiya!”

“hi, matty,” you smile. “and come on, it's deadline week, of course my sleep schedule is fucked. questioning why i'm not asleep, christ, thought you knew me better than that.”

he takes your teasing in good faith. “i do, darling, i do know you,” matty's voice is soft, his tone as tender as you've ever heard it. it's driving you batshit insane. “but you know me. i just want to make sure you're not stressing yourself out about your work too much. rather have my best friend's wellbeing intact than another book, even though your writing is my favourite. speaking of, that display! i'm recreating it at home. genuinely. s'amazing.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “i can't even comprehend that display right now, m'too tired. but i’ll text you my thoughts once they make sense. and i'm alright, matty, honest. please don't worry about me, lovely.”

“that'll never happen, and you know it.”

“god, you're obstinate. but thanks. i appreciate the care.”

“even when you're insulting me, you're so eloquent. you've got a gift,” matty laughs down the phone. “how's deadline week going, anyway?”

“it's done. just sent the final draft away for edits. s'why i'm still up, actually.”

“really? congrats, darling!” the genuine happiness in his tone makes your heart hurt. “god, i wish i was home now, so we could go out and celebrate.”

“me too. but we'll see each other this weekend for early christmas dinner, yeah?”

“that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually. you know those roast potatoes you made last year?”

“you mean the ones you and alexa fought over the last spoonful of?” you laugh, remembering the two of them racing to the tiny kitchen in your flat to try and nab them.

“m'still fucking fuming that she got them. bitch,” matty grumbles, then giggles. “nah, she's like my sister, i love her. but yeah, those potatoes. can i have the recipe for them, please?”

you suck air in through your teeth. “well… no. that’s a family secret, lovely. m'sorry.”

“oh,” matty sounds so genuinely deflated that you could cry - you seldom see him upset, but the thought of his pretty face all sad makes you feel incredibly guilty. “that's alright, darling, i understand. my nana was the same with her soup recipes. you'd have to marry me if you wanted them.”

you hum out a laugh, brain suddenly scrambled at the thought of walking down the aisle towards him. god. get a grip! 

scrunching your eyes closed and blinking them open again - a tried and tested way to stop yourself going off on tangents - an idea pops into your head, so obvious that you’re not sure why you haven't suggested it already. “well, in lieu of us getting hitched within the next week,” you smile, enjoying the way matty laughs softly at the other end of the line. “i could come over early to yours and make the potatoes for you, if you'd like?”

“i quite like the sound of the first option, to be honest…”

what the fuck?! you have to clap a hand over your mouth to stop a gasp. or a scream. perhaps even a moan.

“...but i'm more than happy with the second one. thank you, darling,” matty's smile is as audible as his relief. “you're a lifesaver and a legend. come over whenever on sunday, yeah? wake me up if you have to. actually, no, i'll pick you up. s'the least i could do to thank you. and it means we get to spend even more time together.”

“that sounds nice,” you all but sigh into your phone. “i'm excited to see everyone.”

mostly you, though.

“as am i, darling,” matty yawns. it's the cutest sound you've ever heard. for fuck's sake. “m'not bored talking to you, honest, just tired. this is actually the most fun i've had in weeks, this phone call.”

you want to assume he's lying out of politeness, but something in your brain tells you he's being sincere; it's not like you can say anything to dispute him, either, given it's also the most fun you've had in weeks. “matty, you’re in new york. at christmas time.”

“yeah, alone! s'boring. macaulay culkin made it seem a lot more fun when i was a kid,” matty snorts. “plus, i saw you the last time i was here. any trip you're not on is just automatically a bad one.”

christ, what is with him today? “flatterer,” you smirk, before grimacing and continuing to talk. “but i assume you've not been… totally alone, the whole time? i don't like the thought of that being the case.”

you hope to god he's too tired to pick up on your actual meaning; the sight of him with another girl isn’t unfamiliar to you, but that isn’t to say you don't mind it. quite the opposite, in fact.

thank christ, he misses it. “no, i’ve been good. slept by myself every night,” he laughs.

you giggle, relieved. “really? wow.”

“why are you surprised at that?”

“you're you, matty.”

“yeah, well, i'm going through a metamorphosis-”

“kafkaesque of you.”

“knew that one was coming as soon as i said it,” matty sighs. “but in all seriousness, in the past couple of months, i've just… fully realised what i want in life, you know? and it's not what i used to want, or get up to.”

interesting. “well, that's good. m'happy for you, lovely.”

“yeah, thanks. and what about you, miss? you, um, bringing anyone to christmas dinner?”

you snort. “obvs not.”

matty hums. “why'd you say it like that?”

“like what?”

“like,” he pauses, trying to find the words. you can just picture the shape of his eyebrows as he does. “derisively. as if it's a silly question.”

“because it is a silly question, matty.”

“is it?”

“yeah,” you giggle. “i wouldn't even have time for a one night stand, let alone a relationship. not that there's anyone particularly interested, right now, anyway.”

“oh, there is,” comes the reply. “there really is.”

“if you say so.”

“believe me, darling, people want you. they're down bad. totally in love with you.”

“oh, you are so high right now, aren't you?”

“i mean, yeah. but i'm right!”

“uh huh,” you smirk. “i think you need your bed, matty.”

“pot, kettle.”

“alright, point taken,” you peel yourself off your chair, joints cracking slightly worryingly as you stand and pad across the flat to your room. “i'm going there now.”

matty sighs happily. “good. but send me a selfie as proof. accountability and all.”

it's an innocent enough ask, and not a totally unprecedented one - in the times where your self-neglect was at its worst, you would send matty and your other friends selfies so they could make sure you were alright - but the concept of sending matty a late-night pic from your bed does something quite odd to your brain and stomach.

still, you’ll oblige. but will he?

matty giggles when you ask him as much. “yeah, i'll send you one in return. i'm all about reciprocation, me.”

the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “good to know.”

he laughs, that stupid hyena cackle of his that might be your favourite sound in the world. “christ, i've missed you.”

“it's reciprocated,” you smile, switching your phone between hands as you get into bed and hissing quietly at how cold the sheets are. “alright, i'm in my bed. and you should be too.”

“you're right, i should be,” matty says. his voice is lower than you've ever heard it, the rasp of his cigarettes prominent; despite yourself, it goes straight between your legs. “soon, though, darling. promise.”

“good,” your voice comes out breathier than expected, a setting you haven't used in some time. “i think we both need it.”

“yeah, i think we do, too,” matty yawns again, following it up with a sigh. “right. i'm going to hang up now, darling. i really don't want to, but i feel like if i don't then one of us is gonna fall asleep before we can exchange pics. and i can't be having that, honestly. miss looking at you.”

you giggle, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs back and forth. jesus christ, what is this man doing to you? “don't get too excited, i look like shit.”

well, you've looked worse lately - you at least showered and clipped your hair up and put on a clean outfit today. but still, far less glamorous than matty's used to.

or not - “i've literally held your hair back while you yoshed in a plant pot, darling, i think you're alright.”

“and on that note, let's wrap it up,” you laugh, rolling back to lie down. “what time should i be ready for on sunday?”

“oh, um… half twelve? that should be enough time to get everything sorted.”

“half twelve it is,” you yawn. “ok. bedtime. have a safe flight, lovely. talk soon?”

“‘course. don't forget that selfie, by the way. eagerly awaiting it.”

“et toi. lots of love, see you soon.”

“back at you, darling. goodnight.”

the call ends. you close your eyes and, for the briefest of moments, let yourself dwell on the fact your best friend - who, let's be honest, you have a bit of a crush on - shamelessly flirted with you to the point of bordering on phone sex, and let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance he might feel the same way you do.

but it's matty. sweet, cheeky, affectionate matty, who'd find a way to flirt with a brick wall if he was bored enough. because that's what he is, really - bored, high, alone on a phone call with a girl late at night. it's just a natural thing for him to do in those circumstances. you're not special, you were just… there.

that notion stings more than you expected. but you persevere, opening your camera and fixing your glasses. he's your best friend, after all, and he asked you to do this to make sure you were alright. nothing more than that.

still, as you close your eyes and smile, you hold the phone with both hands so your boobs push ever so slightly more together. just in case. then you caption the pic as requested, and hit send.

matty’s reply buzzes in a few seconds later, eliciting a shocked giggle from your lips: fucking love it when you wear your glasses. a follow-up appears in another few seconds: if that's you looking like shit… you're defo the sexiest bit of shit i've ever seen.

fuck him for getting you flustered like this. honestly, fuck him.

and, oh, when he sends a selfie in return, shirtless in low light, hair in its natural state, one hand behind his head… don't you want to do just that?

you bite your lip as you compose your response: my condolences to the single girls in nyc who are missing out on you looking like that tonight.

matty: i know, poor them lol. but their loss is one specific single girl in london’s gain, though, yeah?

you: fuck yeah

matty: you crack me up

matty: miss you sm

matty: anyway, sweet dreams. see you in them, i hope

matty: but see you irl on sunday lol xx

you: miss you too, lovely. goodnight xx

***

sunday, 12:56pm

a mass of black fur rams into your legs as soon as you step through matty's front door. you laugh, dropping your bags and crouching to pet an over-excited mayhem, while matty grumbles behind you. “at least let her get in the house, mayhem, christ!”

“don't listen to him,” you coo at the dog, nuzzling into you quite adorably. “i'm just as happy to see you as you are to see me, baby. got a present for you and everything.”

“you did not buy the dog a christmas present,” matty groans, gently pulling the coat from your shoulders.

“of course i did. got you one as well.”

“thought we agreed we weren't doing presents this year?”

“well, i'm a dirty liar,” you brush down your dress and turn to face matty, smiling. “that, and i saw something when i was in glasgow that i couldn't resist getting you.”

matty's eyes widen near-imperceptibly as he takes in the dark red fabric clinging to you like a second skin, raking up and down your body almost too quickly for you to clock. 

almost. you bite back a smirk. got him!

much to your chagrin, though, he recovers quickly and turns the tables. “well, it's difficult to keep control when you see something… attractive,” he murmurs, gaze lifting to meet yours. “i like that dress, darling, you look gorgeous. and,” his tone and face brighten. “i actually got you a gift, too.”

the revelation is just as shocking as the way he looked at you is. “you did?”

“we're both dirty liars, it seems,” matty grins. he nods towards the kitchen. “make yourself comfortable in there, darling, and i'll go and get it. only be two minutes, promise, and then i'll help you find whatever you need, yeah?”

“you've not done a mad rearranging of your kitchen cupboards since the last time we all came over for dinner, have you?”

“nah.”

you wave nonchalantly. “then i'm good, i know where everything i need is.”

matty smiles down at you - there's an expression in his eyes that you can't quite name - and gently nudges you down the hall. his hand is light against your back, but it sends shockwaves through your nervous system regardless. “alright. give me a shout if you need anything, though, please.”

“i will, lovely,” you smile back just as sweetly. “want me to put some christmas music on? get into the festive spirit and all?”

“anything but band aid.”

you laugh, and matty joins in. “i was thinking more sinatra, anyway.”

“perfect.”

and that's exactly how he'd describe the scene in the kitchen he walks into thirty minutes later. the room is warm, made cosy by the oven that's been slow-cooking turkey for a little while now, soundtracked by frank crooning out have yourself a merry little christmas. mayhem snoozes in his bed by the massive window, which shows snow dusting over the garden like icing sugar on a cake, and then there's you. still keeping an eye on the potatoes bubbling on the hob, you sway gently to the music as you pour dried spices and seasonings into a bowl, your face as content as matty feels.

it breaks into a big smile when you see him in the doorway, white dress shirt hugging his chest quite deliciously. “oh! you got changed. i like it.”

“had to keep up with you, didn't i?” matty smiles, wandering into the room and laying a gift bag on the counter. he peers into the pan of potatoes. “thank you for doing this, by the way, darling. means a lot.”

he opens his arms, and you slot into them before they wrap around you tightly, resting your chin on matty's shoulder and smiling. “no one else i'd do it for.”

matty hums happily. “god, i've missed you. you're always a total peach to me. makes me feel good.”

“a peach? you've spent too much time stateside, matty,” you giggle, pulling away just enough to look at him. “thank god you're home for a bit. but thank you, lovely, i'll take the compliment.”

“for once, you'll take one,” matty teases. his face turns slightly more solemn. “yeah, m'glad to be home. it's a shame you won't be at any of the UK shows, though. i always like them more when you're there.”

“well, when hollywood calls, you have to answer,” you shrug, then smirk. “you just want me at the shows so i'll praise your narrative structuring again, don't you?”

matty's eyes close in bliss. “don’t tease, you literally barrelling towards me backstage screaming about midpoints and how proud of me you were is genuinely the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

“oh, shush,” you roll your eyes, suddenly shy.

“i'm serious! it'd be like joan telling you she thought one of your sentences had perfect structure. a writing compliment from you is a gift, darling.”

“well… thank you. and speaking of gifts,” you - with great reluctance - pull away from matty, bending down to grab a wrapped box from your bag. “here. joyeux noël.”

your best friend takes the present from you, murmuring a “thank you” and smiling at the tag addressed to him. he holds it to his ear and shakes the box, eyebrows raising at the slight rattle.

sighing, you roll your eyes. “just open it, matty.”

his face lights up. “alright.”

after carefully peeling the tag from the box and placing it in his pocket, matty tears through the paper and lifts the lid off. he squints at the sides of the smaller plastic boxes inside, before realisation hits and his jaw drops. “this is…”

“cassette recordings of ten blue nile gigs throughout the eighties and nineties, in their entirety,” you finish, smiling. “thought you'd like them.”

“like them? darling, this is- i don't even know what to say, other than thank you,” matty looks at you, awed, and pulls you into another tight hug. “how the fuck did you manage to get them?”

“the guy in one of the record shops i went into in glasgow was selling them. they're his recordings,” you say, half into matty’s neck. “and he'd digitised them, so he didn't need the tapes anymore, and he wanted them to go to someone who'd genuinely use them. remembered you saying you'd bought a tape deck, and i know how much you love that band, so… i kinda had to buy them.”

matty turns his head and presses a kiss onto your temple; while you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming in delight, he speaks again. “you really are one of the best people i know. christ, i'm so overwhelmed by how perfect that present is. i need a drink,” he pulls away and heads to the fridge. “d’you fancy some champagne, darling, before i give you your gift? you might need it, actually.”

“that's not ominous at all,” you quip, then nod. “pour me a glass while i sort the potatoes and get them in the oven, please.”

matty nods, pulling out a bottle of perrier and grabbing glasses to take over to the table, while you drain and pat-dry the potatoes. he hums along to the background music while he fiddles around with the foil covering the champagne cork; you smile, eyes flicking up periodically to look at his cutely confused face, then back down to the food you're currently buttering and seasoning. it's incredibly domestic, a cosy little christmas dinner tableau, so much so that it hurts your heart to think that life isn't always like this for you and matty. and mayhem, obvs, curled up so adorably in his bed that you have to resist awwwwing every time you look at him.

still, it's hard to be melancholy when matty's irritation at the bottle foil is so amusing. you giggle at his grumbling, turning around to look at him scowl once the potatoes are safely in the oven. “need a hand?”

“no thanks, darling, i'm- ok, yeah, please,” matty sighs, leaning back in his chair and stretching. you pretend not to notice the way his shirt rides up and exposes his hip tattoo. “can't find the tab on the foil.”

“hmm, let me see,” you wander to the table and sit beside matty, moving your chair closer to him. well, to the bottle. “ah - that's because there isn't one.”

“well that's fucking stupid. how are you meant to open it?”

you smile, swiping your index nail across the foil; it slices clean through, and you're able to peel the covering off the cork. “like that. these aren't just for aesthetic purposes, you know.”

“that was actually quite hot. let me see them?” matty gently takes your hand in both of his own, admiring the abstract line pattern on your fingernails, tenderly rubbing his thumbs over the gel. “yeah, definitely hot. let me open the champagne from here though, darling, yeah? can't risk these pretty nails being damaged.”

you bite the inside of your cheek again; this time, to stop from giggling flirtily. “have at it, lovely.”

“i like it when you call me that,” matty smiles, grabbing the neck of the bottle in one hand and the cork in the other, and slowly twisting. “makes me feel good.”

“well, you are lovely,” you smile back. “and opening that champagne quite effectively, i must say.”

“learnt from the best,” matty winks. “you're right, though, it's a lot less messy. although i don't mind that, sometimes. s'fun.”

“yeah, me too,” you smirk, glad to be sitting down and not having to worry about your legs caving in at matty and his words. “kinda fun getting it all over your hand, isn't it?”

matty's eyes widen again, and the cork breaks free with a loud pop; before either of you can cringe at or make light of it, though, mayhem jolts awake with a yelp at the sound, and quickly runs over to sit at your feet. 

you coo at him, reaching down to scratch his sweet head and reassure him (and berate his dad). “aww, mayhem. you scared the baby, matty! look at him, he's terrified! s'ok, sweetheart, i'll keep you safe. come on, you can have your christmas present to cheer you up.”

matty rolls his eyes, but he can't keep the smile from his face as he watches his dog eagerly follow you to your bag. “you know, mayhem, you're such a sap, honestly.”

“oi, don't talk about my friend like that,” you frown, face lighting up as you find what you're looking for in your bag. “aha! here you go, mayhem. merry christmas.”

the dog takes the guitar-shaped dog toy with relish, plodding back over to his bed and playing with it contentedly. matty leans to the side to look at mayhem's gift, bursting into laughter when he sees it. “fucking brilliant. that'll be his new favourite, by the way. but you're his favourite, so it checks out, i s'pose.”

“really?”

“oh, he loves you. he never gets so excited to see anyone else,” matty nods, pouring champagne and sliding a glass to you. “bet he'd enjoy seeing more of you. as would i, actually - i really like spending time with you, darling.”

you nod, touched. “so do i,” you raise a glass. “to seeing more of each other next year.”

matty clinks his glass off yours, repeating your words with a soft smile. you take a sip of your respective drinks, humming in satisfaction as the champagne hits your lips. you nod again as you swallow. “christ, that's good.”

“agreed. and now that we've had a drink,” matty puts his glass down, then leans back in his chair and reaches to grab your gift from the counter. he presents it to you with a grin. “merry christmas, darling. save the box til last, yeah?”

“ok. thank you,” you smile sheepishly, opening the bag and pulling out its contents: a notebook, with a pen tucked into the front cover, a book, and a thin, a4-size box. laying them on the table, you inspect each facet of the present in turn, starting with the notebook. “a parker pen? matty, this is beautiful.”

“that one's also kinda a congratulations gift for getting your manuscript in. there's a little message on the inside, too,” comes his reply. 

you flick your gaze up to find him blushing, and it makes you smile even wider. carefully, you lift open the black cover, and find matty's familiar scrawl on the inside: to my favourite writer… this is for the next one. lots of love, matty ♡. a little giggle leaves your lips, and you reach for your friend's hand to squeeze it. “you really are the loveliest, you know.”

“shhh, it's nothing,” matty softly rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. “the next bits are the good ones, really. m'excited to see you react to them.”

“better not keep you waiting, then,” you smile, reaching for the book; you let out a little cry of excitement when you read the title. “on beauty! i haven't read this since i was at uni, my god. thanks, matty, i can't believe you remembered me saying that! oh, this is amazing.”

“open it.”

your head shoots up. “what? why?”

matty smiles. “just do it, please.”

“alright,” you do as requested. when you see what’s on the title page, your jaw drops. “matthew…”

“oh, shit, the full name. am i in trouble?” matty quips, smirking as he takes another sip of champagne.

“no, no, just… you got zadie fucking smith to sign a book for me? with a personal message?” you all but sob, lip quivering, completely overcome. “she's telling me she loves my work? what the fuck?”

“well, she's got good taste.”

“matty,” you wail. “this is the best gift i've ever been given.”

matty giggles. “no it isn't.”

“i'm telling you, it really is.”

“nah,” matty gently tugs the book from your hands and replaces it with the box. “this might be, though. but you need to stop crying before you open it, though, darling. can i just…?”

tenderly, so tenderly, matty takes your face in his hands and uses his thumbs to carefully wipe the tears pooling on your lower lashline. at his touch alone, your breathing starts to regulate; the same can't be said for your heart or brain, which both go haywire at the intimacy of his actions, something not helped by him whispering reassuringly to you. “there you are, darling. you're alright.”

it's not a question, but you nod anyway. “thank you.”

“anytime,” matty lets go of your face and sits back; you miss him as soon as he lets go. “right. now you can open it.”

with a smile, you lift the lid from the box - it falters, though, as soon as you take in the words on the paper in front of you. “these are outlines.”

“yeah, they are. look closer, darling.”

you squint at the paper, a choked noise escaping your lips. “feel free… fuck off. zadie gave you her essay notes?!”

“she did. and told me to give them to you.”

“how?”

“well,” matty grins, shuffling in his seat. “i went to see her and nick while i was in new york, and i asked her to sign the book while i was there. when she found out it was for you… she insisted you have those. printed more off for me and everything. she thinks you're the shit, darling.”

“you're sure she didn't say i was shit?” you hiccup, sliding the box onto the table before your tears hit the paper and picking up your glass for a long drink.

“positive. she only had lovely things to say about you,” matty takes your glass and refills it, beaming at you. “so, yeah. bit of a weird present, i know, but i knew you'd appreciate it.”

you laugh through your tears, wiping your eyes and shuffling your chair next to matty's to hug him. “i really do. and i appreciate you even more. thank you, lovely, you're too good to me.”

“nah, you deserve the best, darling,” matty’s hand comes up to rest on the back of your hair, stroking it gently.

you wallow in the tender moment for a second, before pulling back to smile at him. “m'sorry for crying, christ.”

he shakes his head. “don't worry about it, s'cute. and you still look fit when you cry, so…”

“shut up,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder.

“really, you look perfect,” matty smiles, eyes soft. “m'glad you came over early today. not just because it means we get the good potatoes, but because we get to do this, have a bit of peace before everyone gets here. s'nice. really nice.”

you nod. “it is. thanks for having me. and for the gift.”

he kisses your hand. “anytime. thank you for my gift. and just for being you, i s'pose.”

“it's like you want me to keep crying.”

“well, like i said, you look fit,” matty grins. “but nah, i'll stop. let's have a nice time and get rid of this champagne before everyone else gets here, yeah?”

“sounds like a plan.”

so that's what you do - sit at matty's kitchen table, drinking champagne and watching mayhem playing with his new toy, talking and laughing with your best friend. outside, the snow falls faster and faster, blanketing the garden in pristine white, but it's falling nowhere near as quickly as you are for matty. when the front door goes, you’re actually welcome for the excuse to leave the table, the kitchen, the intense care in those beautiful eyes that threatens to shatter your sanity and perspective.

it's your newly engaged friends, laden with more champagne and christmas crackers. once you've exchanged pleasantries, your friend sends her fiancé into the kitchen with the bags so she can interrogate you. “now why are you here so early? you're a little bit unsteady on your feet… oh my god, did you and matty fuck?”

“no! christ! and keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss, looking back down the hall to make sure the coast is clear. “i came over early to help with dinner. and we opened champagne. that's it.”

her eyes narrow. “but you want to fuck him, don't you?”

you open your mouth to answer, but pause for a split-second too long; she cuts back in again. “oh, you do! well, you should.”

“i don't just want to fuck him, babe,” you sigh, leaning against the cold concrete wall. your brain is screaming at you to shut up, but you can't. “i… like him. in a more-than-platonic way. like in a deep way.”

“so… tell him that.”

you blanch. “today?”

“yes! it's christmas. we've all seen love actually - it's the perfect time!” she quietly claps, beaming. “and you won't see him again until my birthday dinner, so if the revelation goes tits up… you've got two months to get over it.”

“really filling me with confidence here.”

“sorry,” she kisses your cheek. “i just like the thought of the two of you being happy, that's all.”

“i know, it's just-”

“darling?” matty wanders down the hall to you, pulling your friend into a welcoming hug, then turning to face you. “sorry to interrupt, but your timer is going off.”

“oh, thanks, lovely,” you smile at him. “be in in a minute, yeah?”

“alright. looking forward to it,” with a wink, he's gone again.

your friend smiles at him, then turns to you. “he is looking forward to you returning to the same room as him. how interesting!”

“yeah, because it means we all get the roast potatoes i made. that's it.”

“oh, you made those again? amazing,” she nods appreciatively, then looks at you and tilts her head. “he could still just be looking forward to being in close proximity to you again, though. wonder if there's any mistletoe around.”

“shut up, please, i am literally begging.”

she laughs, tucking you under her arm and walking to the kitchen. “alright, i'll leave it be tonight. but i'm just saying - i think you have to seriously consider that matty might want you under his christmas tree this month just as much as you want him under yours.”

“and i think you have to seriously consider that you might be delusional.”

“well, we'll soon find out, i'm sure.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #christmas75 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

[skxllz]

Some gallavich x reader fluff?🥹

I got you anon <3 I threw some other shit in here too

++

male! reader

“ rock, paper, gun; shoot! — fuck! ”

mickey lost yet another match of his version of ‘ rock paper scissors ’ to kev, resulting in him standing up from his chair and picking it up, only to throw it someplace in complete anger. just like the sore loser he was.

“ HEY! ” veronica shouted, throwing a dishcloth at him, “ take that shit outside! don't come in here messin’ up my bar! ”

“ fuck your bar, ” mickey pointed at her, to which she reeled her head back in return; a ‘ I know he fucking didn't ’ look overtaking v's face before she looked to kevin, expecting him to say something before she leapt over that counter and strangled mickey her damn self.

“ — and fuck you. ” mickey turned to kevin, now pointing at him.

“ hey, whoa! ” kev's brows furrowed together solemnly. “ no need to get physical and talk to veronica that way, man! it's just a game. ”

“ a fucking game you're cheating at! ” mick’ smacked the table; leaning over it to get a nice, good, sarcastic smile brewin’ in the male's face. “ ‘cause you're too much of’a dumbass to actually win it over and over. ”

“ ian! ” veronica called to the red head who entered the bar, you trailing behind him. “ get your damn dog and put ‘im on a leash! he's throwing my chairs just because he's pissy that kev keeps beatin’ him at a stupid-fucking-game! ” she was now heatedly scrubbing at the counter top, new rag in hand swinging about aggressively. “ you men and your damn games. grow a pair! ”

you looked at veronica wide eyed, but said nothing. of course you weren't offended by her words, her aggression when she got infuriated just always caught you off guard.

ian sighed and walked over to mickey, who still was going on about losing the dumb game. “ mick’, come on. you can't be that mad over losing a game. ”

“ ian, ” mickey moved away from ian's hand, which had extended to grab at him, and made a gesturing motion towards kevin. “ he fucking cheated. there's no way he keeps keeping me at rock, paper, gun. absolutely no-fucking-way! ”

blinking once, you stared at mickey as if he grew another head. “ how does one cheat in rock, paper scissors- sorry, gun?. ”

“ I don't fucking know! ” the brunette threw his hands up, turning to you. “ he just did, okay?! he's a fucking cheater! ”

“ I beg to differ. ” ian rolled his eyes, now crossing his arms over his chest.

you shook your head as you saw mickey's anger increase. ian was not helping by disagreeing with you guys’ boyfriend.

so, you helped the solution the only way you knew how-

“ kev, ” kevin leaned over, looking around ian's body to make eye contact with you, letting out a ‘ huh? ’. “ ya’ should apologize to mickey. cheating isn't cool. ”

mickey and ian's argument that had started up seemed to stop at that. they both turned to look at you, faces mirroring surprise.

honestly, it was comical, but you kept a stoic face while staring at kevin. you knew he wouldn't catch on, but veronica should.

“ what? ” kevin scoffed.

“ I said, you should apologize. ” you shrugged, twisting your lips to the side; sliding your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “ mickey is upset you cheated. it's not cool to cheat. say sorry. ”

kevin gawked at you in clear offense, “ but I didn't cheat! it was just luck! you can't- ”

mickey looked smugly at ian, glad you were defending him, while the red head just looked at you as if you were insane.

“ oh for fuck sake- ” veronica's loud voice boomed throughout the bar, making kev nearly jump out of his skin. his gaze shifted to her, while her eyes turned to him in irritance. “ just say you're sorry! get this shit over with! I'm tired of this bull. ”

“ but v- ”

“ kevin ball. ” veronica's stern, motherly voice came out and kevin knew not to argue with her then. he pinched his lips together, before exhaling heavily through his nose out of annoyance, and turning to mickey.

the brunette was standing there, arms crossed, looking as smug as ever. he clearly was waiting for his apology.

“ I'm sorry. ” kevin stated, letting his fingers thrung out in exaggeration. “ there, I said it. I'm sorry I cheated. ”

mickey widely grinned, “ good- ” he then snatched the money that was displayed on the table, the loose bills they stacked beforehand for their previous bets. kevin stared wide-eyed as the shorter male pocketed them. “ thanks for the apology. now, I'm leavin’- ”

“ you cant just take my money! ” kev sat up straight, scoffing. “ I earned that fair and square! ”

“ you cheated, ” mickey shrugged, “ so it's my money. ”

that being said, the brunette waltzed towards the door of the bar with a cockiness in his step. kevin looked at you, only to stare disheartedly.

shit.

“ uh.. ” you chuckled, rubbing at the back of your neck sheepishly. “ i- um- bye! ” you took out of there faster than he could reply, leaving ian behind.

“ tell your boyfriends- ” ian turned to kevin once he began to speak, “ that there's no more free drinks in my bar. ”

“ did you really have to take his money? ” you huffed, trailing after mickey through your living room and following him to the kitchen. it was your place but he acted as if he owned it.

“ my money, ” mickey corrected, opening the top cabinet and snatching out a box of cinnamon toast crunch. “ he fucking cheated, so the cash is mine. it came out of my pocket to begin with. ”

you rolled your eyes, “ mick’, I know not all of that came from your pocket. you're not dumb enough to agree to a bet unless you're getting more money than you already had. ”

he glanced at you over his shoulder, “ so you callin’ me fuckin’ dumb or something? ”

one blink. two blinks. and then you're staring at him as if he's an actual idiot in that moment. “ that's not what I said at all- ”

“ you said I'm not dumb enough, so that's stating I'm somewhat dumb, just to clarify, right? ” as he argued, he had enough time to go to the fridge and retrieve the milk and pour it into his bowl. so now, he was smacking his cereal aggressively, while giving you a pointed stare.

“ can you not? ” ian sighed as he entered the kitchen, only to dump his phone onto the table so he could remove his hoodie. it was rather hot in your place. “ I'd really like to go a day without you running your mouth. ”

mickey looked at ian with a ‘ are you for real? ’ expression. “ so I run my mouth? ”

“ stop- ” he sighed.

“ no, no- ” mick’ sat his bowl down before gliding over to get in ian's personal space. “ I run my mouth? is it too much for you? ‘cause I could just fucking leave. ”

“ mickey- ” you tried to interfere, but neither of them let up.

the ginger pressed a hard palm to mickey's chest, forcefully backing him up. “ you're not fucking leaving. stop acting so childish! ”

you sighed, this time combing a hand through your hair as you became fed up with your two boyfriends. “ guys! ”

they still didn't bother to acknowledge you, though. mickey was now raising his voice as ian got in his face as well, and it was becoming ugly - you didn't want this leading to something more violent. so, you gritted your teeth, and inhaled.

“ GUYS! ” that finally grabbed their attention.

ian's head swiveled around so that he could look at you. mickey peered over ian's shoulder. you looked to be fuming, smaller fists clenched down at your sides and the space between your brows pinched. “ will you two knock it off?! ”

scoffing, mickey pushed ian back -to which the red head stumbled and glared at him-, only to look at you with disbelief. “ why the fuck am I gettin’ yelled at? he started it. ”

“ you both, ” you gave ian a look that told him he better not open his mouth, “ are being stupid right now. stop- and mickey, you're not dumb, it's just the way I worded my sentence. ”

picking his bowl of cereal back up, mickry rolled his shoulders back, mumbling under his breath. “ course I'm not dumb... I'm fucking smart. ”

you cracked a smile at that.

“ now, ” you pointed a finger to them both, raising your brows. “ no more fighting, right? let's just relax for once. ”

ian glanced at mickey, and mickey glanced at him- but neither said anything. ian then sighed and nodded, “ yeah, no more fighting. ”

“ good. ” you hummed, before shuffling over to ian and pecking him on the cheek, “ thank you. I don't like it when you two argue. ”

“ hey, ” you both looked to the brunette, who had an arm extended dramatically so and a distraught look on his face. “ the fuck am I, chopped liver? ”

a giggle escaped you, “ no! ” and you made your way over to mickey, only to kiss him on the cheek as well. but he scoffed for the hundredth time.

“ that's no fucking kiss- ” he muttered, only to pull you closer by binding his arm around your waist. “ come ‘ere. ”

the male pressed his lips greedily to yours, intaking your warmth and savoring your taste. you could taste the cinnamon-y sweetness on him from the cereal, and it made you grin.

“ I think I deserve one too, ” ian whispered as he came from behind, too hooking an arm around you. you parted from mickey to turn your head and smile at your other boyfriend.

“ I love you guys. ” you chuckled, kissing ian sweetly. he kissed back, softness to his touch.

“ we love you too, doll. ”

#ian gallagher x reader #mickey and ian #ian x mickey #ian and mickey #ian gallagher #mickey x ian #mickey milkovich x reader #mickey milkovich #shameless us #shameless us x reader

[bambisnc]

birthday surprise ₊˚.

pairing : taehyun x reader genre : flufffff w a cute wrapping of crack <3 cw/tw : ty panics a lil bit + beomgyu is made to do labour /j + minor swearing + use of caps wc : 783 w (wrote this in one sitting a day before my bio prac hehe) notes : HO LEE SHIT i'm having exams still but ugh how could i not write a lil soemthing for tyun my lil boba eyed bee eff's birfhday 😍🫶 (posting this as soon as it's 00.00 on 5th by my timezone)

when you act super distant with taehyun around a week before his birthday, he’s confused. about your behavior, of course but also his own. he's not like this, he's the rational one, the one with the braincell so why is he overthinking this so much? you're probably just planning something for his special day, he knows that but.. he can't help but feel paranoid.. what if he’s just being conceited in thinking so? what if something's seriously wrong??

then just 3 days before the awaited day you call him up sounding all worried - saying there's an emergency and you have to leave asap and he's left reeling with shock. what do you mean an emergency?? is there a problem at work or at your uni? or worse, did something happen to someone in your family-? he can’t focus at all, practice, meetings with the manager, even his sleep is completely consumed by thoughts of you (though that’s.. not really new~)

and then it's finally the eve of the much, much awaited day. he really wasn't expecting anything, opting instead for an early night. his members were seemingly busy with a "project", which was highly suspicious and should’ve immediately raised alarm, is what he would say if you asked him later and you know, he would've caught onto it right then but busy schedules added to the constant worry about all the upcoming events and ofc you had dulled his senses considerably

but at 11.51 sharp, as if on cue, he hears his shrill ringtone from where it is kept next to his bed. it's beomgyu.

“taehyun, dude”, he says, “there's um,.. an issue. uh, yeah no it's a huge problem. we need everyone in the practice room like right now.” by now of course, taehyun did feel pretty sure of the fact that his members had something planned.. i mean “an issue at the practice room”? c'mon that was a classic, he'd literally used that same line on yeonjun's birthday last year. he’s about to let beomgyu know of this but then he hears their manager in the background.. shit okay, maybe there's actually something wrong? briefly affirming that he’ll be there, he haphazardly dresses and makes his way to the practice room...

...only to find the room dark, as he opens the door and walks in, extremely wary of his surroundings. making his way to the light switches he soon discovers emptiness. the room was completely empty. what the fuck.

he honestly felt so dazed, he couldn't help but just sit himself on the couch, somewhere between wondering if this was a dream and if not wondering why his members chose to inflict such weird pranks (?) upon him. he remains there for a good 45 ish minutes before he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps and people, whispering in a way that was not quiet at all.

"shit why're the lights already on??" "oh yeah i called taehyun and told him to come down!!" "what. beomgyu we haven't set up anything. the cake is literally in my hands right now. you're literally holding the decorations??" "oh. huh." "gyu holy shit how could you not know????" "I SWEAR TO GOD." "guys shut up we can still salvage this if we just-"

and taehyun finds himself face to face with a shocked huening kai, an extremely guilty-looking beomgyu, you with so much disappointment adorning your face that one would think this was your surprise party being ruined and rather furious looking soobin and yeonjun.

i'm sure you can picture how the rest of the "surprise" party went. taehyun making some colorful, weirdly specific yet affectionate threats to everyone, you especially - having him worrying over nothing for a whole week, how could you?! he discovers that their manager had been persuaded by all of you to record a little audio clip you could play over call, just to make taehyun a little extra worried and a little less suspicious. well. at least, that definitely worked out huh?

but later when he has his arm around you as you cut the cake into delicate slices and beomgyu attempts to decorate the whole room single handedly, as was chosen to be his punishment, with the rest of his members, offering birthday wishes, sharing past anecdotes of various such mishaps (and it is undoubtable that there were a lot), laughing and playing about, he can't help but think maybe he prefers this more than he would a "perfect" surprise.

next year though, as he tells each of you multiple times, he'd rather it not be a surprise at all. with a smile that quite clearly said that it was very much not up for debate.

[check out my masterlist for more <3]

#creds to @/artoruu + @/moodboard-d !!!!! for pics !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #order's up~! 📋⋆𐙚 #ice creams.♡︎🍧 #taehyun x you #txt fluff #hueningkai #beomgyu #soobin #kang taehyun #txt taehyun #taehyun x reader #tomorrow x together #txt #tubatu #taehyun x y/n #taehyun fluff #kang taehyun txt #tomorrow by together fluff #txt x reader #yeonjun #taehyun

[randomyuu]

there's a lover in the story, but the story's still the same

Ahh, don’t you love it when fear motivates your drawing mood? (not really)

That’s what I felt reading the scene that is drawn below. It’s fear for Yuuji but also feeling excited picturing an emotionless teen!Gojou so here I am. Always down bad for Vox’s Goyuu fics, aren’t I? *sighs*

Welp, here we go.

Title: there’s a lover in the story, but the story’s still the same

Author: @voxofthevoid

Second fic of the series there’s a lover in the story, but the story’s still the same

Pairing YuuGo, NSFW, please read the tags carefully before giving it a read... the usual drill ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

!!! SPOILER FOR THE FIC !!!

Highly recommend you guys to read them first. Or not, it’s up to you honestly :v

Usually I would gush about the fic but I’ve already done that under the fic itself so I just want you to know this comic is solely carried by me wanting to draw the ticking time bomb called teen!Gojou-post-discussion-with-adult!Ieiri. You could probably guess what they’re talking about :”)

The fear for Yuuji’s well-being started this, but Satoru’s cold eyes kept me going. I can’t get rid of it from my mind lmao

You can say drawing these kind of expressions is my jam   (￣▽￣)

I hope I did Satoru’s emotions justice haha

A bit of my thoughts and doodle below. Unhinged maybe, it’s midnight, I got more work to do after this, and my brain cells are barely hanging on. Haha I'm living the life-

I AM STILL REELING FROM THE FACT I MANAGED TO GET THIS DONE.

There are so many things I want to talk about in the process of making this. But after I typed it out, most of them sounded so unnecessary so I rewrote it a few times. I tried to make this as short as possible lmao

Typesetting and sketching are the roughest parts of this project. During these stages, I kept feeling everything I did wasn’t doing the scene enough justice, and it was frustrating. As I planned this project, I read a few doujins and noticed the font types scanlation teams use. There are so many of them, and each helped convey the tone of each image. Felt like crying when I realised I’m not knowledgeable enough to apply good typesetting, ngl. And then the interior design. Fuck, the frustration is so real. I am absolutely clueless about this kind of thing. Tracing lots of references because I have no perception of space makes me feel even worse. I knew first times rarely create a masterpiece, but I was not satisfied with my accomplishment and the feeling of failing to fulfil my own expectations hurt.

BUT.

Thank goodness most of the things I need to draw are Shouko, Yuuji and Satoru. Because dear g o d drawing them healed me. I found so much comfort in drawing Shouko’s long hair and Satoru’s eyes and drowning Yuuji in an oversized hoodie. The comfort zone of character drawing never feels so real lmaooo

Drawing them was so effective that I can look back at the backgrounds with acceptance. Hey, I did it! Not perfect just yet, but I did it!

Haha I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t know if it’s in a good way or a bad way. Guess I do have one or two screws loose.

Only for Yuuji lmao

(nah I just need sleep, or cooling down from the rush of having finished this)

It might come off as a surprise if you’ve only seen my art on Tumblr, but I’ve always preferred to draw feminine-leaning ladies. I’ve always loved drawing their curves, whether it’s the figure, the clothes, or the (long) hair. But I’ve grown to like drawing masculine gentlemen as well with their sharp edges and straight lines, and now my ladies start to look more androgynous lmao

Anyway, I was pretty stoked to be able to draw adult!Ieiri! I… I kind of miss drawing long hair so here have some more before you go on your day ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

#yuu's art #jjk-fic-fanart #jjk-ship #五悠 #goyuu #goyu #5u #gojou x yuuji #I'll see you sometime later #if real life lets me haha #:")

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CvncfKdpph4/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

oh, i'd like to expand.

trouble getting upset one evening at the library when she overhears someone talking about a crush they have on peter, and it hits in that moment, that she has no real control or leverage because they're not committed.

but she keeps that to herself, until she hears someone else. then she hears it again at a party. then insecurity starts to form, he's the center of several crushes, and she's just a new one to the crowd.

she was the one he chose to spend his time with, but it's unfair knowing he could replace her in a second.

so, she takes that out on him.

peter puts it to an end after watching her purposely put herself on the playing field, flirting with every sutor in the kitchen. it made him sick, so he pushed her up the stairs with him until he had her alone.

"talk."

she plays dumb, "about what?"

"you're on thin ice, trouble. the only reason i'm not huffing and puffing right now is because i know you're acting out."

she's silent.

peter poked the bear again, "so, talk."

she looked frustrated beyond belief and it took everything in peter to not break character and laugh, her grumpy face did little to intimidate him.

with crossed arms and pouty lips she spurts her frustrations on him, "you're too pretty!" peter thinks it's the drinks she's had, "aw, thanks, trouble, but it's still not an explanation."

"everyone has a crush on you, it's unfair."

peter scoffed, "oh, come on. that's not-"

"there's one from my lab, two from my lecture, a whole fucking table at the library and three cheerleaders. it's over, you're in high demand and no one wants me. i'm gonna die alone."

"that's not true, trouble! i want you!"

"ugh! that's like your mom saying you're special, like, yeah, duh. she has to say that."

"oh, does she? i wouldn't know."

she points a finger, "don't out trauma me right now! i'm opening up and sad."

peter sighs, "alright, look. don't get all sad and insecure. trust me, a lot of guys think you're attractive. i've just made it very clear that if they like having ten unbroken fingers, it's suggested they stay away."

she drops her jaw, then narrows her eyes. it made her a little pissed.

"that's so fucked up, peter. you don't own me, you can't fear shame people into not talking to me. it doesn't work like that."

"you're mad?"

"yes! you made it clear to every guy i'm off limits, but what about the girls? you're still open game to them. i can't have any suitors but you can? that's so unfair."

he honestly hadn't thought about it like that, he doesn't pay them any attention. he knows he wouldn't entertain the thought, but you might be swayed.

peter couldn't find better, but you could.

"i'm sorry. i didn't even think about it like that. i think it's cause i know no one could change my mind about you."

"and you think someone could change my mind about you?"

"trouble, i just don't think i'll ever be good enough for you. and if you didn't have any other options you wouldn't see that."

"you're plenty good enough for me, i just don't like you declaring ownership without asking me."

"you're right. and, you know what? i'll make it extremely clear to every girl uttering my name, that you're the only one moaning it."

#frat!peter drabbles

[totallyboatless]

It is time, friends, for another Pip's Weed Essay game. The rules: I'm about to take an edible and start writing a mini-essay in one sitting. I edit a tiny bit as I go, but for the most part this is on the fly. I've thought about this topic a lot, but haven't outlined it. I'll let you know when the edible hits, but there's a chance you'll realize it before I do. (PIRATE FRIENDS STICK AROUND - this is Pip from the future, I get pretty high in this, but anyway I'm here to tell you that this goes in a very unintended OFMD direction that i'm still reeling from. Anyway back to Past Pip)

Edible ingestion commencing, time: 7:37pm Mountain Time

I polled my followers for the topic, so today we're going to talk about:

Fixing the Puck Problem

I've read and seen A Midsummer Night's Dream more than any other Shakespeare play. At this point I don't know if I've seen it so much because it's my favorite, or enough opportunities for me to see it have lined up that it's become my favorite by default. It's easily the Shakespeare play I know best. I haven't seen a staging that I fully disliked, but there are two elements of this show that I feel like are rarely handled the way I want them to be.

Problem one:

Puck will never be as funny as Bottom

It's common to consider Puck to be the main character of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He's at the very least the most famous character in the play. Puck is a dream role, and obviously with his being a fairy, he's usually directed to be weird and whimsical--and a lot of the time, playing for laughs. It makes sense, he's a trickster, it's built into his nature.

But in modern day, his lines and actions don't translate as well as Bottom's. In all of the times that I've seen A Midsummer Night's Dream, I've *never* seen a production where Bottom fails to steal the entire show away from Puck. I've had multiple experiences where I could feel the director wanting me to laugh at Puck; I could see the reasons for the direction, but it just wouldn't hit. In those same productions, I've laughed so hard at the Bottom scenes that I cried.

I'm thinking particularly of the 2010 production with Judy Dench reprising Titania (honestly still in shock over seeing that lolol) and the 2019 Bridge Theatre production (which you can find streaming, it's *incredible*).

In the 2010 show, the Puck actor kept doing what honestly felt like a Woody the Woodpecker impression lol. He would pause for laughs and they just...wouldn't happen. Meanwhile, Bottom was set up with the kind of success that let him steal at least one scene from fucking Judy Dench.

In the 2019 Bridge Theatre production, I genuinely like the direction they gave Puck--he's a weird little twitchy Irish punk doing fucking aerial silk shit. But even with a unique vibe and a fun performance, it's still not enough to outshine Bottom.

Basically my thing is that I want to get to the end of A Midsummer Night's Dream and feel more connected to Puck. I *want* him to be my favorite. And there's just absolutely no way to make him my favorite if his core purpose is to be funny. Puck is supposed to be a larger-than-life being--the audience is never going to buy that when he's not even the largest character on the stage.

The second problem is smaller, and in fixing it there's also a fun chance to fix the Puck problem:

Problem two:

The audience usually doesn't understand why Titania and Oberon are fighting.

If you've gotten this far you're probably already a nerd who knows this, but gonna pose the question like I've done for other people I've seen the show with: Why are Titania and Oberon fighting? What's the core reason?

Bc you're a fucking nerd you probably yelled CHANGELING! Which yes, good for you, if I had become the Shakespeare professor I wanted to be but didn't have the money to become, you would be in my class and I would throw a snickers at you for a reward.

But the thing is, a *lot* of people who only know the play casually don't know. And most productions don't assist them in knowing.

Elaboration for non-nerds: Titania had a "and they were roommates" totally not at all lesbian relationship with a human women who was pregnant. The women dies in childbirth and Titania takes the child to raise, and she cherishes him more than anything, which is an extremely straight thing to do. In the play, the character is only referred to as the changeling. Oberon gets super jealous of this kid and wants to steal him away and make him join the Wild Hunt so that he can have Titania's full attention back, because he's got that issue creepy men get when they have kids and then are like "I'm jealous of my son because he's making it less likely for me to fuck my wife" and it's like "dude calm down with this projection of an Oedipal complex."

If you're not a coward and read Titania as in love with the changeling's mom, then Oberon's issues are maybe slightly less creepy, but like not really

So that's it really. Titania loves this kid of her sapphic lover that died. Oberon is jealous about it. He decides to play a trick on Titania both as a way to get revenge, and also as a distraction so he can steal the kid.

But the issue is that 1.) all of this is communicated in a long and kind of boring speech, and 2.) the changeling literally never has a line and also no stage directions

The 2010 production had a hot dude chained up and writhing on stage in a kind of hot dance snake movement thing when Titania talks about him, but most productions never even have an actor cast as the changeling. I was really shocked they didn't have anyone for the 2019 production, given how much I love most of the rest of their choices.

OKAY SO. We now have the two problems: Puck isn't the fan favorite even though he should be; and most people in the audience have no fucking idea about the changeling.

(THIS IS HIGH PIP FROM THE FUTURE I FORGOT SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT TO THIS PROBLEM: If you do know about the changeling/follow along with that plot, it's *very* hard to root for Titania and Oberon when they reconcile. Which can be fun and cool and a little hot even maybe if you're going all dark, but thIS IS A PLAY ABOUT HORNY FAERIES HAVING A GOOD TIME so I won't be having that. I want this play to make me like that Titania forgives Oberon so easily. Okay Past Pip, take it away)

lol okay yeah weed friend has landed, I just wandered away for a minute with a desperate need to put taquitos in the air fryer. Time stamp: 8:16.

OKAY FOR REAL NOW LET'S GET INTO:

Pip's Most Ideal Staging of A Midsummer Night's Dream Which Fixes the Problems in Theory

The Staging:

First off I want the production to be in the middle of the literal woods where there's pretty lights in all the trees and people are sitting on blankets and have snacks and drinks and drugs and whatever they want, and the whole staging has the actors weaving through the audience. Not just theatre in the round, full immersion

I also want people to not fully know where the production is, just that it's on the outskirts of the forest, and then the actors emerge from the woods at a designated time and bring the audience to the secret stage section. And ideally this would be like a park on the outskirts of woods so that there would also be people there who wouldn't know what the fuck was going on. And ideally some of the fairy actors convince them to come along and the people go having no idea what they're about to get into. That's how A Midsummer Night's Dream is meant to be experienced in its purest form: with actors dressed as fairies trying to seduce unsuspecting strangers to follow them into the woods to an unknown location where they'll probably be offered drugs.

TAQUITO TIME

Taquitos acquired.

Puck's direction and motivation:

When Puck is first introduced, it's by a fairy called Peasblossom who's otherwise not a big part. Peasblossom lets the audience know who Puck/Robin Goodfellow is by basically going stan-mode and being like "holy shit you're famous." PB literally starts listing his greatest hits.

So picture with me: instead of an extremely fairy-like whimsical Puck, I want a Puck that wanders on-stage like a burnt-out rockstar. Cigarette in one hand, beer in another. Probably on a cocktail for faerie super magic mushrooms. Just fully numbed out. In this moment, Puck feels way more human than faerie--and I want the performance to be in a way where that feels off. To have it be communicated in manner and clothing, and the juxtaposition of PB recounting Puck's glory days, that Puck hasn't always been like this. This isn't a faerie trickster in his prime. This is a man who's lost all sense of fun and is going through the motions.

That's what happens, right, when you become just a little too famous?

Puck is the only one of the main characters who gets to the end of the show and is entirely alone.

(my favorite thing about being high is how *good* it makes food taste, these taquitos are not fancy but with the power of the devil's lettuce it's so good--oh my god I have Dr. Pepper)

(I'm back with the Dr. Pepper. I'm having fun, are you guys having fun? If you've made it this far i kiss u)

So Puck is alone at the end of the play while everyone else of import is either with their lover or with their theatre-kid-found-family. And it's largely because Puck lives between worlds. He's not powerful enough to be fey royalty; he's Oberon's right-hand man, but he's not Oberon's peer. But the lower fey court are also not his peers -- they treat him like a celebrity, he can't actually connect with them. He's not allowed to frolic and play with them anymore, not really.

With this interpretation and direction, we now have a Puck whose action in the plot can lead to a happy ending (keep with me), and whose existence isn't just to be quirky and whimsical for the audience. Instead it's a Puck with a motivation: he's lost all joy in his job, he's disconnected from him community, and Oberon only treats him like a fuckbuddy so he's sexually frustrated. (Oh right yeah I was supposed to write about how Puck is in love with Oberon. He is.) That's all fucking sad, bro! And you know from the Pip that traveled into the past that this play is fun and should be fun!

Now for the final part, where we put in the special ingredient to tie this particular Puck direction into the happy ending:

LET'S 👏 GET 👏 GAY 👏

Do you guys (gn) remember the changeling? It was like possibly an hour ago, the time-warp this particular edible always sets me on has fully set in. It's possible this essay is like 5k words long. It's also possible it's only 500 words long. I wish I was lying when I told you I don't know.

Anyway, the changeling. Let's make him a fuller character and let's give him to Puck wrapped up in a sexy, charming bow.

Picture this: The Changeling, from now on capitalized as a character, shown on stage in Titania's court. Locked up like a princess in a tower because Titania is desperate to protect him. And the Changeling is all *sigh and flutter big beautiful princess man eyes* because he wants to explore what's out there. Because he's a man who's grown up and been forced to live between two worlds. He's not fey royalty, he's not Titania's actual kid and she kind of honestly treats him more like a momento of her lesbian lover than an actual adopted kid. He can't be one of the fey court, because he's not fey, and also he's not allowed to frolic and play with them.

That should sound familiar to you if I did it right.

Puck and the Changeling, both feeling the same sort of empty spot. So let's smush them together.

Give the Changeling all of Peasblossom's lines. It makes more sense for a detail I left out before, too--Peasblossom doesn't recognize Puck they see him for the first few lines. Once they do they're all like "omg you're the dude that makes people horny for each other and also some other trickster things." They know all of Puck's stunts, but they don't know what he looks like? It's clearly an exposition device, but it's a weak one (sorry, Shakesy). He's the rockstar of the fey world. You'd have to be living under a rock or, I dunno, locked away like a beautiful man-princess --

(Okay you know where I'm going and I have to stop there because I'm cry laughing, I swear to you -- I swear to fucking god, guys, I wish I was joking -- I thought I was being cute and clever saying "man-princess". Not because of irony. IT'S BECAUSE I FORGOT THERE IS A WORD FOR A PRINCESS WHO IS A MAN AND THAT IS A PRINCE. Okay i should clearly wrap this up lol)

In this staging, the Changeling clearly doesn't want to be locked up. So...he finally finds a way to sneak out. He goes on a romp through the forest and that's when he runs into Puck (this is the scene where we first meet Puck). The Changeling wouldn't recognize Puck, though he's have heard of him. He probably loves stories because what the fuck else does he have to do, so he's asked the fairies to tell him about Puck's adventures over and over. Meanwhile, Puck wouldn't recognize the Changeling because Titania has been keeping him so under lock and key. It allows an opportunity for them to connect on more of a peer basis as they--

Holy fuck. Wait. Hold on. Is the Changeling Stede. Is Puck Ed. What the fuck. Did I write an AU on accident. I don't even like AUs very much (sorry AU writers it's not personal it's just not my thing).n ANYWAY sorry for the pirate aside. God this is properly off the rails now.

They like each other, you get it. And now Puck has someone he wants to impress. There's not a lot of opportunities to give the Changeling more lines, but that doesn't mean he can't appear on stage. He can stay with Puck (hiding from Oberon whenever he's there, leading to some good chances for physical comedy) and go on the nighttime adventure of his dreams.

This leads to a fun, unique choice: having Puck fuck up the love flower juice plan on purpose. So that he can show this hot dude following him around with wide enthusiastic eyes the kind of things he's capable of OH MY GOD THIS IS ED AND STEDE I SWEAR THIS IS NOT ON PURPOSE I AM JUST NOW SEEING THE PARALLEL

Okay we're nearly at the end I promise. We just have one more problem to solve: How are we supposed to root for Titania and Oberon to get together when Oberon literally publicly humiliates her and then steals her adopted son and forces him to join the Wild Hunt even tho Titania REALLY doesn't want him to? Well, the first one is easy, Titania and Oberon are so fucking kinky, and Oberon likes getting cucked (remember he's only jealous of the Changeling, never the lesbian).

The second one is also easy. Make it the Changeling's choice. Leaving Titania and joining Oberon's court means two things: He gets to be with Puck, and joining the Wild Hunt allows him to go on exciting adventures. If Titania saw that the Changeling wanted this with the staging that both Titania and Oberon look over and see Puck and the Changeling making out right after Titania's spell is broken. Then Oberon can jokingly delivers the line about having stolen the Changeling, realizing that the plan worked but in the most ridiculous way possible. And how could Titania not find joy in all of that?

It makes me so much more glad to see them get back together.

Puck's closing soliloquy is his most famous, but I like his last big monologue right before it better. There's a very important line he says that communicates an important shift within the context of his particular staging:

And we fairies, that do run

We.

Puck isn't a lonely, washed-up rockstar anymore. He's part of a "we." Not just the Changeling, but the other fairies, too. Puck and the Changeling act as bridges for each other, to be part of each other's worlds in a way that feels like a whole -- OH MY GOD IT IS ED AND STEDE

Puck being alone on stage isn't so sad anymore, after all that. Because Puck, who starts off the play with so little sense of belonging, now has so much to go back to.

And that's it, that's my ideal staging of this play. Honestly, I really, really want to direct it. I have no experience directing but I have the audacity to think I could do it lol. No resources, tho

OH ONE LAST THING HELENA NEEDS TO BE INTO PUP PLAY

also the lovers are all in a polycule, that's just a given, any other staging is cowardly

alright bbye

[exit]

final time stamp: 9:25 PM, not rereading, just hitting post. We die like Mercutio.

#Pip's Weed Essays #shakespeare #shakespeare staging #a midsummer night's dream #ofmd sort of i don't know how this happened #i mean it could have influenced me coming up with this staging??? It must have somehow?? #I didn't start conceptualizing it until this year #I wasn't in the middle of a pirate hyperfixation at the time tho #but i guess they just always are there in the back of my head #shakespeare analysis

[sunderlust]

make me a... (hangman x reader)

masterlist

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x fem!reader

synopsis: family planning with jake

warnings: 18+ only, explicit language, explicit sexual content (strictly pwp, p in v, maybe slight degradation? daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, spitting, so sorry for my sins) 

wc: < 500

let’s all give a ranch water toast to may (seasonsbloom) for getting 500 followers and being so phenomenal!

also I promise I'm working on this is me trying lol currently fighting off a cold and honestly that video of glen powell with his niece & nephew really derailed me we love a man who's good with kids

“Fuck, you like that, huh? You want to have my babies? You want me to make you a mommy?” Jake grunts out as his hips slam into yours. He’s using one hand to prop himself up over you, while he presses the other into your stomach and you know he can feel the bulge of his cock plunging inside you and you know it’s driving him crazier. You moan in response to his question, turning your head to the side and squeezing your eyes shut, still reeling from the aftershocks of your previous orgasm. 

The heavy feeling of his hand on your stomach disappears. Suddenly, Jake grasps your chin between his fingers, turning your head to make eye contact with him. “Answer me, sweetheart. You gonna make me a daddy?”

You open your mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. Jake’s eyes are locked in on your fucked out expression and he moans out your name again, forcing your chin up with his hand. His eyes dart towards your open mouth for a microsecond. You feel his thumb drag upwards to hook onto your bottom lip, holding your jaw open. With a grunt, he spits into your waiting mouth, still pumping his cock into you, and releases his hand from your chin, letting your jaw snap shut so you can obediently swallow. 

Jake’s moan is a heavenly sound. “Good girl, I’m so fucking close. Answer me, please. No, no, out loud,” he insists when you start nodding your head like it’s held up by springs, like he’s fucked out every bone in your body and you’re just a bunch of limbs connected by coils and held together by Jake, Jake who wants to put a baby in you, Jake who wants to have a future with you, Jake who’s currently splitting you in half and loving every second of making you lose your mind. 

 “Yes, I wanna make you a daddy, please,” you finally manage out, and you feel it shake Jake to his very core as he shudders, driving his hips one last time into your poor cunt so that they’re flush with yours and you feel the warmth of his release inside of you. He’s gasping into your ear, reaching another hand up to brush away your hair from your face. 

Jake’s whole body slowly relaxes as he comes down from his high, slowly starts lowering his chest until he’s just a couple centimeters away from resting his entire weight down on you, but at the last second he holds you tightly and rolls over so that you’re on top, his cock still buried inside of you. He snakes both hands around your back to pull you into his chest, peppering featherlight kisses across your forehead. 

“Think that one took?” he asks you with a smirk, pressing one more hard kiss to your sweaty forehead.

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman smut #top gun maverick fic #mine #may 🥰

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Proxies relax day? What do they do together? Like fishing or camping?

(Scenario also Hi! I'm new!)

Hello! Welcome to the blog :) I know you specified scenario but I just haven't been in a scenario headspace, although I tried to spice this up for you. I hope you enjoy it regardless :)

Fishing, of course! Fishing is Tim's favorite pastime, and it's something he does on a weekly basis. He goes out on his boat, floats into the water, and fishes the day away. It's a way to destress for him, and it just calms him and makes him relaxed after a very long week. It's an honor, quite honestly, for Tim to invite someone to go fishing with him. Everyone knows not to mess with him, as he takes fishing very seriously, and it'll make him very upset and down if you get too rowdy and scare all the fish away, so when it became a tradition every few weeks for him to invite Brian and Toby, the two of them felt quite special.

Brian is the most easygoing with the whole thing. He sits there quietly and patiently, although he doesn't fish all that much as he just doesn't have the talent for it, he always brings them plenty of snacks and drinks, and he's very encouraging with them. He also takes a bunch of pictures of them while they're out there, whether it be group photos, or candid shots of the other two while they're fishing, he likes to have a bunch of photos to remember these times together. Toby on the other hand originally struggled quite a bit with the fishing trips. He gets antsy when he's in the same place for too long, so there would be lots of "Let's move the boat over there!", "Let's go swimmin' Tim!", "Can't we just go for a little walk?", "Is there anything else to do?" And all of them would be shut down by Tim pretty fast. Did it agitate the shit out of Tim? Yes. But he loves Toby and is understanding of him, so he would let it go. It wasn't until Toby had a bad episode out on the water, and he started rocking the boat and almost fell in that things came to a head, with Tim yelling at him in fear and concern to knock it the fuck off. Was that the best way to handle it? No. Were there lots of hugs and tears and apologies afterward? Yes. 

After that point, something sort of clicked in Toby, and he became much more relaxed on the fishing trips. It was the fear in Tim's voice and in his eyes as he almost fell into the deep water that chilled him out a lot on the water, and things became easier after that. Tim started paying him a lot more attention too, to make him feel more occupied. He got him a new fishing rod and a bunch of equipment, and it became a bonding thing for them. Giving him tips and advice, to cast your line over there, to reel it in like this, to use these sorts of baits, and these kinds of lures, and Toby paid attention to every single piece of advice Tim gave him, even bringing a little notebook and writing it all down. Toby started to enjoy fishing a lot more after that, and thus, the tradition was born. Every other Sunday, the three of them go out on the water and fish for most of the day, starting early around the time the sun rises. If they catch anything good, Tim will grill it up when they get home, but if not, at least they still got to spend a day out in the water. Brian's lock screen for the last few months has been his favorite picture of the two, sitting shoulder to shoulder with the sunrise in front of them, with Toby's head sleepily resting on Tim as they fish. Toby might not always be the best in situations like these, but he tries for Tim, and Tim tries for him too. At the end of the day though, they also always have Mama Brian there to smooth over any rough bumps between the two.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #slender mansion mayhem #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby headcanon #tim wright #tim wright x reader #tim wright headcanon #tim wright headcanons #brian thomas #brian thomas headcanons #masky #masky headcanon #masky headcanons #hoodie #hoodie headcanons

[slashingdisneypasta]

Mickey Altieri x AFAB!Reader || Oneshot

*I have been watching Santa Clarita Diet and remembering how cute this man is so I decided to finish this! Yayyyy, Mickey fanfiction.

Plot: You and your best friend Mickey fuck, and to nobodies surprise... it causes issues.

Warnings: Porn with Plot, so yes there's smut and sexual references throughout. Specifically oral (f receiving), slight inebriation, forcefulness, p in v, and a little fingering

"Hey Y/N, just callin' to check in but your phones off, I guess. When you do hear this though, call me back. I was thinkin' we could go to movie, or something."

~

"So... what, you didn't like the movie idea? Haha. Yeah, I get it, I'm a pain to go to movies with, I know. Thought it was worth a shot, though... Call me back and we'll get a bite or something."

~

"Are you really doing this? Ignoring me? This is a little junior high, don't you think? Come on."

~

"Look, Y/N... I hate to pull this card but I gave you an orgasm. You could at least call a guy back for that."

~

"It was a fucking good orgasm, too, actually, and we both know it. Call back."

~

"*Sigh*... You came in my mouth Y/N, don't fucken ignore me."

~

Mickey's messages were becoming increasingly more frustrated, and lewd, and you don't blame him, really! But at this point you're honestly a little scared to talk to him, much less look him in the face.

The tone his voice is developing in these messages is undeniably hot, and you can’t face him the way you're feeling about him right now. The... incident, he's referring to, was a mistake. A slip.

A slip that is still flower fucken fresh in your mind- which is why you can’t face him.

And you try to tell yourself that you were... tired, that day! That it had been a long week, and Mickey is, honestly, objectively... quite an attractive dude! And because he was, well, there, you accidentally… well, you... alright, you don't know what happened. Or how to explain it without sounding awful, or ruining your friendship.

"Ugh," You cut off your own thoughts, tired of thinking about it as you lift your shoulder bag over your head and drop it onto your opposite shoulder passive aggressively, and unlock your dorm door. Then you twist the knob with an eye roll and pull it open. "Class. Shakespeare.” You chant. “That's all you need to be thinking about right now, Y/N. Get your head in the game… "

The moment you leave your room though, you see Mickey leaning on the wall two centimetres from your face and let out a yelp; Jumping back. "Where do you think you're going?" He asks, raising his brows at you from where the side of his head is, resting on the wall.

"To class!?" You exclaim, reeling from the shock of him being right there, waiting for you to come out. Can you run back in and slam the door or would that be going too far?

"Nahhhh, see I don't think so." Mickey moves in closer, causing you to step back, until you're both swiftly back in your dorm. He then closes the door behind him and your heart gives a dreadful thud.

This is absolutely the situation you’ve been trying to avoid. Too emotional, too alone-

"Look, Mick, I'm sorry for ignoring you- that was wrong, but can we talk about this later?” You ask, desperate and almost begging. God, Shakespeare sounds good right now. Even Trigonometry would be great! Anything that will take the heartbeat out of your pants.

“Uh uh uh, see you lost the right to pick a time slot about two messages ago. Now I choose, and I think now is a good time.” He locks the door, then, and you actually wince. Noooooo…

“Fine, Mickey. Uh… what’d you wanna talk about?”

“Oh, you’re gonna play dumb?” He looks surprised, and impressed, and dangerous as he gets closer to you. “Okay, okay… how about we talk about this?”

Then Mickey reaches over, cups your face and drags your mouth to his in a ridiculously heated kiss that makes all the blood in your body rush somewhere other than your brain- which is suddenly quite silent. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, this is not how this should go!- You let the kiss end on its own, though, until he pulls his lips away from yours oh-so-gentle, though doesn’t let go of your face; Just looks darkly down at you, waiting. “About that,” He snaps, and its odd because your friend Mickey has never been the angry sort… always calm, even when he was frustrated. Always cracking jokes. And even now, he doesn’t look vicious or wounded at all, but there’s a definite vibe… something in his voice… that tells you he is totally pissed off. He straightens his head again before his big hands move down to your waist. He turns you around and guides you to the nearest wall.

Breathless, you give a hesitant nod. “… you’re right. We definitely do need to talk about that.”

“Right, yeah, or we could talk about this,” He goes on, pressing what seems to be an erection at full mast into you and you actually have to resist moaning; Biting your bottom lip so it actually hurts. Yeah… that too. “Yeah, we’ll probably have to talk about that too, right? Like, urgently.”

When you open your mouth this time to respond - with what you don’t know, -, Mickey doesn’t let you; Instead swooping down to kiss you again and swallowing all thought from you. God, this just what happened the other night! Mickey’s lips get involved and you turn Idiot. You’re so caught up in the kissing in fact, fighting to keep up with him, tasting him back- that you almost miss the hand going down your pants.

“Ah~ fuck.” You swear, when you feel two strong fingers slip up through your folds, collecting the moisture that he created when he walked in like he did.

“Or we could talk about this… “He murmurs, waving the two fingers between your faces, coated in slick as he makes a mockery of your reaction to him. Then you watch him stare into your eyes and suck on those fingers. “Mm, yeah, I’m not the only one with a problem here. This we definitely gotta discuss, right?? Right!” At that he lets you go entirely, pushing away from you and taking a few steps back in his frustration.

Thank god- you can breath now.

“… Mickey you’re a little manic,” You start, once gathering your composure again quickly. “Are you okay??”

“No I’m not fine!”

“Well… I’m your friend. We can talk this through- “

Before you’ve even got the sentence out, Mickey’s talking over you. “Ughhhhh!” He turns around, upon you again as you press back into the wall and he holds up a stern index at you in some kind of psycho mommy finger. “… That’s the thing,” He whispers. “I don’t think we are friends, Y/N.”

“What?- “

“We fucked.” He says, bluntly, and it makes your face heats up. “And I liked it. And you did too, don’t even- don’t even try to deny it.”

After a moment, you give out a sigh and shake your head; A sad look on your face. “I wont deny it.”

“Great. So, you agree. We can’t be friends anymore. At least not in the traditional sense of the word- I don’t think I can spend another movie night with you,” The way he says ‘movie night’, like they mean nothing to him anymore honestly hurts, but the next words that come out of his mind have you all twisted up inside. “You know, lay my head in your lap and not wanna rip your pants off. So!- what does that leave us?”

“I… I don’t know. We could… “Before your face was warm, but now the areas from your cheeks to your collar bones are piercing hot under the duress of his intense gaze. You wish he would just calm down, and discuss this without all the pressure! “d-date? I gues- “

“Date?? Date? I’ve been your best friend since we were fourteen. Dating is for suckers who don’t know eachother like we do. Fuck dating.”

“Then what!?” You snap, getting tired of his tantrum. Is this going somewhere?? Is he breaking up with you?? If so, can he get it over with and stop embarrassing you!?

“Y/N- FUCK!” He swears, like you’re frustrating him now- any hint of a humorous undertone gone despite the still-calmness of his face.

“Mickey you walk in here, kiss me, lick my precum off your fingers and then start yelling at me. What is your end goal!??”

Mickey’s hands are on you, then, probably leaving indentations in your arms with how tightly he’s holding you. “Y/N, I love you.”

“… “You stop, and close your mouth. He… “What!?” You snap.

“I love you,” He informs, all matter-o-factly, and finally a little grin quirks at the left corner of his mouth. “So we cant be friends anymore. I kinda wanna be more than that.”

You honestly don’t know what to say. Your heartbeat is calming down again to homeostasis after all that hubbub, but you’re anything but calm. This is Mickey- your best friend, the only one who knows you have a crush on Jason Voorhees. This man, who is ridiculously sexy and intelligent, has seen you sick as a dog before, and sobbing after getting broken up with, and stupidly hyped over winning a game- and… he wants to be your boyfriend? You’re dumbfounded, so not much comes to mind as response. In fact, all you manage to squeak out, is “… kinda?”

“Kinda- a lot-… do we need the logistics?”

Despite yourself, your lips fight to quirk up into a small smile. “Altieri, you are a mess.” A hot, manic, mess.

“I’ve been thinking about your pussy all week, what do you really expect?” He asks, grinning back. The lewdness of his words make you groan, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back against the door in light mortification. “What?” he shrugs, “It’s true.”

“… so you like me, huh?”

“Derek said I’m full on whipped, actually.” Mickey clarified, and you can’t help a giggle. He talked to Derek about you? “So can we stop fighting and break one of Randy’s horror flick rules, now?“

“Just a moment,” You stop him, your own mommy finger coming out. He steps back, hands up in surrender even as that amused look stays on his face. A sternness creeps onto your own as you push off the wall, towards him. “I don’t want you to ever come into my room like that again. Don’t kiss me, then yell at me, and tell me you love me like that makes up for it. I mean come on man- were you born in a barn??” You try to add a little humour at the end there, for the moods benefit, and he gives that sexy half smile of his. “… And I promise I’ll always return all your calls from now on- within reason.”

“Done.” He agrees, easy, and you shrug- good. That’s that then, all that you wanted to add. Mickey senses this being the end, too, and meets you halfway in the middle of the room; Curling some of your hair around his ear. “So… “

Looking all hard-done-by, you shrug and offer you hand to him. “Damn, you nympho. Yeah, I guess we can fuck now- Woah!“

He’s already dragging you to your bedroom, and you’re laughing; Your Shakespeare class is forgotten when he pushes you back onto the bed, if it wasn’t already.

~ A week ago ~

Mickey’s lips leave a hot trail all the way from your worn cunt, over your stomach and your breasts, your neck, your jaw and when he finally reaches your lips once again you kiss him back fervour; Finding that you don’t mind the taste of yourself, at all.

Despite cumming already, you spread your legs once again and wrap them around your friends’ hips and arch up into him when he grinds his still-covered erection into your naked pussy; Moaning into his mouth at the rough feeling. You know that this is going to change everything, but damnit- a shit of an essay due tomorrow, one viewing of your favourite movie and only 3 jelly shots caused this! And damn it just feels too good right now to stop it.

Besides- Mickey hasn’t come yet. You wouldn’t leave him without helping him too! What are friends for??

Disconnecting from his lips in order to reach down, you unbutton and unzip him before shoving his pants and underwear down just under his ass- too impatient to get them completely off of him. And, clearly, he’s feeling the same because as soon as his dick is free, he’s plunging it into your sobbing pussy. The groan that escapes him then is downright pornographic- and you certainly aren’t fairing much better, fingertips digging into the mattress.

“We shoulda done this before,” He pants, thrusting in and out of you in a desperate search for release.

You don’t quite hear him, or you tune it out, or you pretend you didn’t hear it, because having heard it would mean responding. And responding would mean accepting that this is happening outside of a really good daydream. And accepting would mean you had to have a conversation, and a conversation could mean a million things including losing your best friend- so, officially, you didn’t hear him. You turn your head into the sheets, grinding your hips in pace with his thrusts, chasing another amazing orgasm from him.

God, you’ve never been fucked like this. It’s never been this good. How is this possible. “Aghhh okay- okay- gonna come. Yeah. Wh- Where- where do you want it?” He pants, struggling with the words as his nuts threaten to bust any second.

You’re on the pill, and he’s wearing a condom, and he just feels so good filling you and stretching you that the idea of him pulling out too early make you want to beg him no, no, no. So you wordlessly shake your head and lock your legs around him, pulling his body flush against your so his cock really goes as far inside you as possible, before pulling Mickey mouth back to yours once again. His tongue meets yours in a very clumsy, needy kiss and he cums right then.

He shoots hard into the rubber wrapped around him. His hips stutter in their thrusts, but he goes on until you follow suit; The knot of pleasure exploding in you once more. The sensation of his shallow, slow thrusts after that are over the top, and oversensitive, but fuck they make you whine louder then any before.

When he slips out of you and lays back on the bed beside you, your heads near the foot of the bed rather then the top and on top of the sheets, you decide to just go to sleep. Feeling like this; Tingly and warm.

Let the mess be a dilemma for future you.

#Mickey Altieri x Reader Oneshot #Mickey Altieri x Reader Smut #Mickey Altieri x Reader Smutshot #Mickey Altieri x Reader #Mickey Altieri #Mickey Altieri Smut #Smut #Oneshot #Slashers #Ghostface #Scream #Scream 2

[pedropascallme]

oh god i’m feeling the shayne guilt too. i also have a huge crush on courtney so it’s like a double homicide hehe

i think as long as the feeling is not a weird parasocial thing (we never stood a chance, neither of them have stolen your beloved crush from you, and they are clearly both happy) then it’s okay. it’s a lot of information to take in at once - not only are they not single, but they’re MARRIED, and to each OTHER? i’m still reeling i love them.

anyway, i think as everyone gets used to their relationship being canon irl, the guilt will go away. i hope so, anyway, i miss my fluffy imaginary dates with them

- 💌

DOUBLE HOMICIDE!!

Yeah, I think you're totally right. I think a lot of people project a sort of reality onto their celebrity crushes that makes them more "real," in the sense that they go about their crush on said celebrity as they would a person they know irl. Which, fine, whatever, but you also have to remember that above all else, these people do not KNOW you. They don't have any semblance of a relationship with you, and they are allowed to pursue their own relationships.

I think the issue with Shayne and Courtney especially is people feel entitled to know about their entire relationship (timeline, wedding, etc.) both because they're like, conventionally attractive people who have been online for a while, but also because people seem to live vicariously through them as far as their romance goes. Yet another reason why I really respect Damien's approach on stream last night where he was basically like "I'm not telling you anything that my friends haven't already said or told me I can say," essentially letting everybody know that he (and other cast members) wouldn't let themselves be a vessel for that kind of parasociality.

But like, they're happy! And they're more than allowed to be happy! I honestly think they're entitled to having silly newlywed honeymoon time and if that means we won't get any information for a while or ever, that's fine!!!! I, personally, am so fucking happy for them and have been a quiet shipper for as long as they've been on the channel.

And it's ok if you still consume reader insert fics or fantasize about either of them, as long as you aren't actively showing them these things and forcing them to look at stuff that would make them uncomfortable. Fics are for fandom spaces, not necessarily for the people they're about, and that's a huge boundary that I think those of us who write fics on smoshblr are really good at understanding and respecting.

#hehe send me asks #shayne topp #courtney miller #damien haas #shartney #shourtney #smosh #smosh cast #smosh pit #smosh games #smosh squad #smoshblr

[ftmtftm]

Leaving aside the fact that this was apparently sent to a number of trans women, some of whom wouldn't have any reason to be primed to recognize bait because they're not involved in this discourse, there were also a number of people openly defending this ask and trivializing trans women's feelings when it comes the sexual objectification they experience regularly from both outside and, in this case, within the queer community.

In fact I've even seen many of the women targeted recognize that the ask is clearly bait, with their disappointment and anger being aimed instead at the transmascs who went out of their way to claim there was nothing wrong with it and trans women were overreacting, without the cover of anonimity (so clearly they stand by this idea).

In the same way I am not a fan of people who say trans men need to shut up about transandrophobia and get forcibly impregnated (I'm still reeling from that one, honestly. It was vile), I'm also not a fan of people who say trans women need to shut up and fuck people who clearly don't respect them.

And this does happen a lot, to both trans men and trans women.

I want to make it very clear - as I've said in every ask response: I feel for those people, especially the people who are distanced from this conversation who have been caught in the crossfire. Especially when there have been a lot of conversations going on lately about the ways trans women are sexualized, especially within our own communities. It's been happening in tandem with the conversation on the sexualization of butches for awhile now. Those are good conversations to have.

That's why the bait is so obvious to me though. It's very clearly preying on those current conversations and escalating them further to cause an even bigger divide.

And let's be clear - those women, especially the ones who are completely distanced from this conversation and have been harassed for no other reason than this anon decided to include them in their campaign - are absolutely victims here because that's how this kind of bait operates.

Victimize as many people as possible while pointing a finger - directly or indirectly - at a group you want to pit the victims against and cause massive issues and infighting as a result. It's textbook. It creates a scenario where there are people justifiably upset for being victimized while priming their upset in a direction away from the actual person doing the victimizing - creating two sets of victims that are now arguing with each other while the victimizer gets off scott free.

That's especially easy with the anonymous feature.

I don't think anyone is wrong for being upset about being sexually harassed. I think people are wrong for taking the sexual harassment at face value, especially those who are closer to these conversations who should - imo - know way better.

#asks #anon #transandrophobia #transmisogyny