#veep edit

[warningsine]

[vonlipvig]

my recurring nightmare

[sunflowermp4]

the lovers to enemies to coworkers to friends to enemies to friends to lovers again blueprint <3

[deathlyscar]

dan amy - i will (mitski)

[spiltsoup]

Amy Brookheimer/Anna Chlumsky and her awesome facial expressions [1/?]

[boycottmakeup]

this took me like 5 hours to make but omg i forgor how much i like to mess around with editing

[rosalie-starfall]

Selina Meyer & Minna Häkkinen

Veep - Oslo

[88hd8]

VEEP 6.04 Justice

Kent Davison

[savebylou]

Liam talking about his album, during the exclusive performance of Teardrops [24.03.24].

[meremontage]

selina & gary | champagne problems

posted it on youtube last year on Nov 28th but forgot to share it on tumblr so here it is!

[sunshineandlyrics]

Charlie talking about the fan response to All Of Those Voices, and the new edit that's going to be streamed. And Louis commenting on Charlie's fashion choices.

All Of Those Voices IG live, 12 May 2023 x

[warningsine]

[vonlipvig]

SAW A SELINA MEYER 365 EDIT, LIFE IS SO GOOD

[sunflowermp4]

ten years later i'm still thinking about amy brookheimer and dan egan and i'm going to make it everyone's problem

[deathlyscar]

a silly veep.

[veeples-archive]

musicalis interruptus

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles ship: specialist agent mason x faustus word count: ~800 warnings: minimal suggestive text 🤷 set around general book three-ish. it's summer.

Cutting Faustus’s hair hadn’t been in their plans.

Plans weren’t really structured a thing, but they’d established a pattern. Expectation. Watching some shit ass horror movie Faustus dug out of a bargain bin. A pack of cheap beer shared on the warehouse’s roof with only each other and the stars for company. Sometimes not talking to each other at all, only the sound of Faustus picking his guitar and scribbling notes between them.

It was all pretense for one thing, really: a bed or a couch or an alley if they were both desperate enough, Faustus under him, or him under Faustus, tallying each time they’d made the other come undone.

(Faustus is in the lead by two. He doesn’t play fair, especially when it comes to his mouth, but Mason finds it hard to fault him for playing dirty when it does it so damn well.)

They know the game, they play it well. 

Yet here is instead. In Faustus’s kitchen because the bathroom was too small to fit them both, a halo of black hair around his feet, an electric razor pressed into his hand to clear the overgrown backside Faustus couldn’t reach. At least Faustus had clipped and sheared the front and top himself.

“Gonna miss this fringe on you.” Mason runs his pointer finger around the black hair curling down Faustus’s neck. When Mason first met Faustus four months ago – Had it already been four months? Had it only been four months? – it’d been short and neat. “Like having something to pull.”

Mason catches the eye roll in the mirror Faustus propped on the kitchen table. “Me too, sunshine, but you don’t have to put up with the dumbass way it sticks up in the morning. Besides, it’s getting too hot to have it this long.”

Mason understands. He’s started pulling back the bulk of his hair into a loose ponytail to stave off the summer heat encroaching down on them. It didn’t explain why Faustus had decided that Mason of all people needed to cut his hair in the middle of Reanimator.

“No shit.” Mason thumbs the switch of the razor. He hates to say he’s hesitating, but most of his experience with tending to his own hair was trimming the dead ends, and even then it was only something he did every few months. “You know I’ve never done this crap before, don’t you.”

“It’s just hair. Even if you manage to fuck it up it’ll grow back.” Faustus shrugs one shoulder. 

“Don’t tell me this backwater town doesn’t even have a lousy barber.” 

“You’re here, aren’t you? I’ve trusted you with more than just a pair of fucking clippers, Mason.” Faustus twists in the worn kitchen chair to grin up at him. One hand hovers close to the one holding the razor, as if in motion to take it. 

Mason pulls the razor away and sneers at the smirk he receives in turn. “If you end up bald in the back don’t blame me, handsome.”

“Unless you fuck around with the settings I won’t. Anyway, wouldn’t I look hot as a cue ball?” Faustus bats his eyelashes, voice all plastic sweetness.

“No.” Yes. “Are you going to turn around so I can do this or what?”

Dramatics aside, Mason knows there’s a nugget of honesty hidden in it. Faustus trusts him. It’s a more plain show of truth than he’s come to expect from the detective who lies as easy as he breathes. Mason figures he can at least put in some amount of effort to not screw up his hair for it.

Lengths of hair fall away as Mason pushes the razor up the curve of Faustus’s head with no real grace or finesse. Mason goes slow, methodical. Faustus offers some direction, telling him where to stop, taking the razor to change the setting, and giving it back. They pass twenty minutes like this, swapping banter with the razor, until finally Mason does his best to neaten the back into an even line.

It’s not bad. It’s not great, either. The back’s a little choppy, but so are the bangs that Faustus took a naked razor to. Messy, punk, but fitting; Mason feels proud enough that Faustus doesn’t look like he went through a wood shredder. 

“You’re done.”

Faustus’s fingers reach back around his neck, skimming the jagged half circle scarred into his skin, feeling the sharpness of freshly cut fuzz. He sighs his approval, rolls his head back. Upside-down smiles at Mason, all syrupy laziness.

“Thanks,” Faustus says, reaching for him. Mason shuffles forward, leans down when Faustus tugs the loose flap of his shirt. “Feel better already.”

Faustus kisses him with a curious gentleness Mason is becoming more familiar with.

He’d kissed him like that after they saved that fortune teller woman in Mason’s bedroom when he’d been expecting fire instead of warmth. Mason had kissed Faustus like that at the bakery without understanding why. He still doesn’t. He doesn’t care to explore it either.

It’s enough to know Mason never liked kissing anyone more than he likes kissing Faustus.

“C’mon.” Faustus says as he rocks forward out of the chair, hair fluttering around him, immediately ignored. “We still gotta finish Re-animator so we can put on Bride of Re-animator.”