#will this movie be better than the ‘movie’ a ten year old put together in their survival world

[waywardsalt]

the only minecraft movie i want to see is the one i found on yt several years ago and have been trying to track down again ever since

edit: i think i finally found the video i was looking for. win

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛  you've been my best friend for years, what made you think it would change now?  ❜ ❛  i'm always here for you if you need me.  ❜ ❛  well, that's what friends are for.  ❜ ❛  remember, i'm always just one call away.  ❜ ❛  how long have we known each other now? i know you better than you know yourself.  ❜ ❛  you're an idiot most of the time, but you're my idiot.  ❜ ❛  do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? i could use some company.  ❜ ❛  you always know how to cheer me up.  ❜ ❛  i made you your favorite food.  ❜ ❛  i know it's 2 a.m. but i really need someone to talk to. are you awake?  ❜ ❛  remember when we used to build blanket forts? let's do it again.  ❜ ❛  please come to this family dinner with me. my family already loves you and i need some neutral person there with me.  ❜ ❛  here, i got you something. i saw it at the shop and it reminded me of you.  ❜ ❛  do you remember that promise we made to each other when we were kids?  ❜ ❛  i'm so grateful to have you in my life. you mean the world to me.  ❜ ❛  i don't need advice right now, just a friend to listen.  ❜ ❛  you're the best friend one could ever ask for.  ❜ ❛  hey, umm ... thank you for being my friend.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to go through this alone. i'm here for you.  ❜ ❛  want to grab a coffee and catch up?  ❜ ❛  we may not talk every day anymore, but i still consider you my friend.  ❜ ❛  i can stay and help you finish this if you want.  ❜ ❛  you've got this. i believe in you!  ❜ ❛  how about we plan a game night this weekend?  ❜ ❛  do you ever wonder what our lives will be like in ten years?  ❜ ❛  no matter what happens, you'll always have me.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to pretend with me. i like you just the way you are.  ❜ ❛  consider it ... a little friendly competition.  ❜ ❛  thank you, you always know how to make me laugh.  ❜ ❛  i can't believe how far we've come together.  ❜ ❛  just stay put, i'll be over in a minute.  ❜ ❛  i've got us tickets for that concert/movies/exhibition you wanted to go to.  ❜ ❛  how about a road trip? just like old times ...  ❜ ❛  i really appreciate you staying in my life all these years.  ❜ ❛  i don't know what i'd do without you.  ❜ ❛  you can tell me if something is bothering you.  ❜ ❛  race you to the end of the street!  ❜ ❛  bet you can't beat me at this game. i'm a pro.  ❜ ❛  i challenge you to a cooking contest. loser has to buy dinner for the next week.  ❜ ❛  you've been such a great friend, and i just wanted to say thanks.  ❜

[mariasont]

Talking to a Brick Wall - A.H

a/n: rip erin strauss you would've hated this fic

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader

summary: in which you overhear your boyfriend aaron's phone call

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, self-doubt, happy ending but also a terrible ending bc i SUCK at endings xoxo

wc: 2.3k

You had called out your boyfriend's name multiple times as you wandered into his house. He had asked you a while ago if you wanted to come over for a movie night tonight and hell would have to freeze over before you ever declined that offer. However, upon arrival, you were greeted by silence; no response to the doorbell, his phone, or your voice. Thankfully, the key he'd given you last year jingled in your pocket as you let yourself in.

You had a pretty strong suspicion he'd be in his office--after all, this was Aaron Hotchner, a man who definitely did not believe in leaving work at the office. 

And sure enough, his voice filtered through the slightly ajar door, the rich hue of his mahogany desk framing the gap. You were about to move towards the living room, assuming he was on a work call of some sorts, but his words stopped you dead in your tracks. 

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm speaking, but the understanding isn't there. You know what I mean? It's like the concepts just float in one ear and out the other."

You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together, as your hand found the wall, leaning towards the door. He couldn't have been talking about you, right?

"I try to share details, to get her involved, but it's met with this vacant nod. As if the depth of it all just doesn't register."

Oh. Her. You tried to fan away the wetness that threatened to fall down your cheeks, each rapid motion a desperate attempt to convince yourself you were imagining things. 

"And I'm patient, I really am. But when you're met with that blank look, it's... disheartening. You start to wonder if it's worth explaining at all. It's like talking to a wall."

Okay, that stung. It was like an immediate punch to the gut, your heart seeming to drop into the pit of your stomach. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to rationalize his words, but nothing was really making sense right now.

The internal battle was a cruel one: stay and endure the sharp sting of his words or leave and miss more of what he had to say. The latter won, pulling you away from the door. 

You knew you were never going to be the smartest person in the room, and in the past, it was a source of deep-seated insecurity, always a silent specter in the corners of your mind. But then you met Aaron. And he made everything just better. His own intelligence and impressive job never became a yardstick for your worth; he ensured you knew you were more than enough, just as you were.

He had always been the voice reminding you that you were smart in your own right, telling you that your worth transcended any numerical measure of intelligence like a stupid IQ score. But now you were questioning everything. 

Anger seemed like the appropriate response, right? But it was hard to be when his words carried a weight of truth to them. 

You did have a hard time keeping up when he talked about the complexities of his cases, sometimes feeling like an outsider looking in. But, even if you didn't understand, his passion for what he did was infectious, and you hung on to every word when he explained all the ways his smart brain was able to deduce things about people. 

Still, a part of you imagined it was hard for him, that it probably got old fast when you weren't able to hold an intelligent conversation. 

Your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and it somehow took you only ten minutes to get home when it should've taken you twenty.

It was only when you had taken a shower, put on your favorite pair of pink sweats, brought out some Ben and Jerry's, and turned on Legally Blonde, did you check your phone.

Hi honey. What time are you coming over?

You tried to ignore the sensation of an invisible band drawing tighter across your chest. 

so sorry, not feeling good. rain check? xoxo

You hated lying to him. Hated lying in general, save for the occasional white lie to protect someone's feelings. The fact that you weren't lying to his face was a small mercy, because obviously he'd be able to see right through you.

Do you want me to come there? I can bring food.

You wanted to be with him, you really did, you had been counting down the days to this movie night all week. But the thought of sitting beside him, wanting to ask about his day, about his work, now seemed like an intrusion. Knowing that your well-intentioned questions might be a chore for him or a source of frustration. The realization pressed down on you, a heavy weight that threatened to snuff your light.

no that's okie! thank you though <3 i don't want to get you sick!

Your phone was ringing, his name lighting up the screen for a FaceTime call, it felt like a betrayal of your own making. It was a skill you had recently taught him (which took forever), and of course now he was using it. Your finger jabbed at the red button, your cheeks turning the same color. 

i look & sound disgustinggg rn

I know for a fact that's incorrect. You have a magical talent of looking incredible no matter what.

I want to see your pretty face.

you can be so flattering when u want to mister!

im going to take some medicine & then ill call u l8, k?

Hmm, okay.

love u! xoxo

I love you too, pretty girl.

You hated this. Your eyes were puffy, swollen and wet as you discarded the phone onto the nightstand. He deserved someone who wasn't so pathetic. 

You wallowed in self-pity all night, and then all day, and then all week. You went through the motions--getting up, going to work, and then making up some lame excuse when Aaron asked to see you. Name it, and you had probably said it. In reality, you had been holed up in your room, trading glossy magazine pages for confusing behavioral books.

The subject matter was as dull as dishwater, making paint-watching seem thrilling. But you were committed to bringing some depth to your next conversation with him.

Today's excuse had been some half-truths about being buried in work--which in hindsight seemed comical, given you worked at a bakery and there wasn't much that could take up your time outside of contract hours.

You were splayed across the couch in an upside-down sprawl as you attempted to focus on the scholarly gibberish that filled the pages. 'Homology,' 'dichotomy,' and 'typology' melded into a migraine-inducing blur, tempting you to slam the book shut. You were fighting every urge to throw it out the window and paint your nails with that new glittery polish you've been dying to try.

At the insistent knock, you clapped the book shut (thank god) and stood, brows knitting, as you navigated to the door with a soft scuffle of slippers on polished wood. 

Flinging it open, you halted, breath caught. "Aaron? Oh, hi, what are you doing here?"

The words sprang forth before you could catch them, your hands scrambling up to smooth the evidence of your couch-induced disarray. 

He fixes you a pointed stare as he steps into your apartment, invitation be damned you guess. "I find myself repeating this, yet it seems necessary--peephole first, then the door, sweetheart."

You clamp your teeth onto your lip with such force, you're convinced you've tasted blood. "Oh, right, sorry... I should've remembered."

A flicker of foolishness and a heavy dose of self-consciousness threaten to surface. However, you quickly subdue them, tucking them away as you wrapped your arms around your body, offering him a small smile. Despite everything, your heart leaps at the sight of him. You missed him.

His face softens, his touch soft as he tilts your chin upward. "Look at me. It's fine. I just want to make sure my best girl is safe, that's all."

The temptation to simply crumble there and then, to forget everything and cocoon yourself in his arms, was overwhelming. 

You leaned into his hand without thinking, which now claimed the entire area of your cheek. He was always so warm. 

You watch as Aaron glances around the room, no doubt noting the absence of work-related clutter. "Still working?"

"Oh, I was, I told my boss I'd help with inventory reports." That part wasn't totally a lie, but it still made your conscience squirm with guilt.

"Do you want help?"

The proposal touches a raw nerve, sparking a defensive reflex. Did he think you were incapable?

 "Thanks, but I'm actually all done with them," you lie, your a smile a little too rigid as you head into the living room.

You're keenly aware of his approaching footsteps as you hastily stash that stupid book under a magazine, silently praying he didn't notice. You settle onto the couch, and he joins you, casually drawing your legs over his lap as you recline against the cushions.

"How was your day?"

You wince internally at the automatic question. 

"Not too bad," He replies with an easy shrug, his fingers sneaking under your sweats at the ankles, tracing lazy circles on your calves. "We wrapped up some paperwork, had a couple of briefings, and oh, we were introduced to our new consultant today. She specializes in crypto linguistics--really fascinating stuff."

Your eyes flutter briefly, a constriction forming in your throat, a twist in your gut. The mere mention of the consultant being a she amplifies your feelings of insufficiency. It leaves you wondering, why would Aaron ever be interested in someone like you?

"Crypto linguistics?" you repeat, trying to sound curious rather than lost. 

He leans in closer to you. "It's a specialized area of linguistics focused on decoding encrypted languages."

You offer a nod, managing a convincing "Yeah, of course," even as your eyes unwittingly drift away from his unwavering stare, betraying a hint of your confusion.

Aaron's hand cradles your head, his fingers sifting through your hair. "Hey," he murmurs, drawing your attention back, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Your chin touches your chest as you mumble, barely audible, "hardly anything."

Aaron's expression turns to a frown, his broad hands guiding your ass and thighs as he positions you atop his lap, face-to-face, leaving you exposed with no place to hide. Your name escapes him with a sigh. "I don't believe that for a second."

You match his frown with your own pout, nestling your face into his neck, concealing the rosy hue that has claimed your cheeks. "Just a rough week is all."

"Is that so?" His voice was a gentle murmur, his hands soothingly moving in gentle sweeps across your back as you breathed out unsteadily. "Funny, that's been my week too. My gorgeous girlfriend seems to have been avoiding me all week."

"Have not," you mumble, your breath warm against his skin, fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He hummed. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong."

"It's silly."

He guided your face back to his, eyes searching yours. "Listen to me. No, it's not. I don't like when you try to diminish your feelings. Talk to me, honey."

That was your tipping point. A wobble in your lip betrays the onset of tears as your voice breaks.

"I just--I know I'm not as smart as the people you work with or even your past girlfriends. I know I don't get things right away especially when you talk about work, and I see how everyone else is so quick, and I'm here, always a few steps behind. I know that it must be frustrating for you, and I'm scared that one day, you'll get tired of explaining, and your patience will run out, and well, you'll see... you'll see that--"

"Baby, whoa, slow down," Aaron urges, his palms tenderly framing your face, a frown plastered over his face. Your heart hammers against your chest, its rapid beats almost audible, as if it might jump from your body. "Take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You draw in a breath.

His thumb delicately erases the tears that have made their way down your cheek.

"When there is something about my work you don't understand, I will gladly go over it as many times as you need. I don't expect you to know everything about that stuff, why would you? That's not why I'm with you. I'm with you because of your incredibly kind heart and the way you see the best in people. I love you because you are you. What is making you think this way, honey? It's breaking my heart."

"I overheard you Aaron," you said, "saying that sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall when you talk to me."

"What?" he questioned, but his confusion was quickly morphed into concern. "Oh, sweetheart, no. I was talking about Strauss and her lack of understanding of our fieldwork."

"Oh."

"I would never speak about you like that, you know that, right? And if, in some alternate universe, I did, you need to break up with me, or better yet, set me straight." His hands stayed firmly on your face. "You should never tolerate that from me or anyone else, understood?"

You bit down on your lip, hands resting on his shoulders as you nodded. "Yes, sir."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, sending fireworks to every inch of you as he mumbled against your mouth, "that's my girl."

taglist: @hotchhner

[oracle-of-dream]

Frame by Frame

Minors DNI

Summary: Your brother Jay invited his friend Sunghoon over to spend the night at the house. The three of you had mostly grown up together, so you knew him pretty well. Something's off with him... he keeps looking at you.

Warnings: Male Reader, Muscle Kink, Rough Sex, Brother's Best friend, Breeding, Spit play, Pet names (Baby), Soft Dom Sunghoon, Sunghoon has a big dick, Aftercare, Jaywon (briefly)

Wordcount: 3.5k

You woke up from a midday nap to the smell of food being cooked downstairs. The Sun was still shining into your window, but you could tell it was the afternoon by its dark orange color.

Climbing out of bed, you remembered your parents said they'd be out of town for the week. Probably because it was spring break for you, and they didn't want to be around when both their kids would be home again. They were way too happy to send you and your brother off to college...

You put on some sort of t-shirt before leaving your room to investigate the kitchen. There were two voices; one was Jay, your brother. The other was Sunghoon, his best friend since you were five years old. Sunghoon and Jay went everywhere together. To the movies, the gym, cafes, and even the same college too. It really felt like they were dating each other with how much Sunghoon was around, even if your parents treated him like another kid.

Stepping into the kitchen, you saw Sunghoon in a sleeveless red shirt with gray sweatpants. Jay was wearing something similar in green and black. They probably just came back from the gym. Jay had shouted something about it before you'd fallen asleep.

"It smells good. What's on the menu today, chef?" You smiled at your brother the way you did when you needed something from him.

"If you do the dishes after dinner, then it's a tomato bruschetta with salmon," Jay replied without looking up at you.

"What!? Why do I have to do the dishes?"

"You want to eat the food I'm working hard to make, then you have to contribute."

You rolled your eyes. "You hate the way I wash the dishes, you always say it's not done right and end up doing them anyway–and what about Sunghoon? He's eating too, so he has to do the dishes!"

Sunghoon was about to protest but Jay beat him to it. "Fine. Both of you start washing these dishes. If it's not clean by the time I'm done, then the dog is eating really well tonight."

Sunghoon didn't bother arguing. "I wash, you dry?" He asked while handing you a clean rag.

Your stomach was too empty to think of a good argument about why Sunghoon was the person who should do everything. "Fine," You snatched the rag from him and lifted yourself onto the counter to sit. For the next ten minutes, you dried the dishes as he handed them to you. Your mind wandered, thinking about how hungry you were. You looked over at Sunghoon washing the dishes, his huge biceps flexing as he worked over every dish. He'd been going to the gym as much as Jay, but he always had a better shape than him. His arms were incredible, his shoulders also pretty broad, and his side profile wasn't half bad either... He definitely wasn't the kid you'd grown up with anymore.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Sunghoon's eyes looking over at you, catching you staring at him.

"Y/n, you alright?"

"Y–Yeah, just still a little drowsy..."

Jay finished making the food and started planting the table. "Did you really sleep all day, y/n?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Those are the same pajamas you've been wearing for the past two days..." He dryly replied.

"Well–What did you do today, Jay?"

"I cleaned the house, got groceries, picked up Sunghoon, and then we went to the gym. Then we came back here and I cooked for the entire house."

"Three people, but okay... that's supposed to be a break and you're working like a house husband!"

Jay picked up the plate sitting at your place at the table. "So, that's a no to the food?"

"Okay–Let's not get out of hand. You started it."

"That's what I thought," Jay set your plate down and returned to his seat. He waited for you and Sunghoon to finish the dishes and join him. Dinner was pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausages, with a bowl of fruit. Jay knew you loved breakfast for dinner, and it was all prepared and set to perfection.

You all eat together, not talking very much as you focus on the food. Sunghoon was wolfing the food down like usual, making a mess.

"Hey, you're going to get food on the floor!" You pushed him slightly, "I'm not cleaning the floor if you make a mess."

He replied with a mouth full of food, "Relax, Mom!" Sunghoon has egg on his face and crumbs on his shirt.

You pinched the egg off his face and tossed it to the dog to eat. But when you looked back at Sunghoon, he was staring at you.

"What? Were you gonna eat that?" You asked.

He shook his head, "No, it's nothing."

The air hung heavy between you. Sunghoon has been acting like that sometimes around you, creating some sort of tension between you. But you couldn't think of what you could've done to make him bothered by you. He was fine earlier...

Jay cut through the silence. "Well. Sunghoon, are you still staying the night?"

Sunghoon nodded. More invested in the food now, even though his plate was almost empty.

Jay turned to you, "Y/n, you doing anything tonight? We can all hang out if you want."

You shrugged. "I don't think I've got anything for me. So I'll be around."

The three of you continued dinner without much extra conversation. You went back to your room, Jay started washing the dishes from dinner, and Sunghoon stayed in the kitchen to talk to Jay.

You watched some TikToks in your room until you got a text from Sunghoon.

SH: Hey...

You sat up in bed so you could give it more attention. Why would he put the ... in there?

YN: What's up?

SH: I hope I didn't make you upset earlier. About the dishes. You were kinda giving me daggers, so I just wanted to make sure we're cool.

YN: Of course! I didn't mean to look upset, I was just thinking.

SH: What, about?

YN: Random stuff, I can't even really remember it now...

You knew you couldn't just say, "Oh I was thinking about how good you've been looking these days. Great gains, bro!" You needed to play it cool.

SH: Oh, okay. Can I get your thoughts on something?

Your heart raced, just for a moment.

YN: What is it?

SH: What do you think about this, hot or not? Jay says not.

You stared at the picture of Sunghoon in the gym's locker room. You tried not to laugh at his expression.

YN: I think you could work on your expression. Try smiling or something. Most guys just focus on showing their body rather than their face at the gym anyway.

There was a pause in the messages. Sunghoon didn't reply for a full five minutes...

SH: What about these?

YN: Sunghoon, why do you need me to tell you if you look good? You've always been the most handsome out of you, me, and Jay.

SH: Well, Jay won't even look at them. But it's good to know you think I'm good-looking.

You blushed and scoffed at your phone... You couldn't tell if he knew what he was doing to you. Your body was going crazy.

YN: Well, whatever. I think the photos are all fine.

SH: Last one.

You braced yourself for another sleeveless selfie, but what you got was way better.

You almost dropped your phone when you saw him shirtless. He was absolutely doing it on purpose. Making sure not to actually show you anything, just some collarbone.

SH: Thoughts?

YN: Yep, still looks good.

SH: Well, you can send me photos too. Let me rate you.

You caught a look of yourself in the reflection of your phone. You looked more than a little rough.

YN: Um, I don't really have photos...

SH: Then should we fix that? I can take some photos for you.

YN: Why do I need pictures?

SH: ...I dunno. It just felt fair, since I forced you to look at me. I should look at you too.

You thought about sending Sunghoon photos of yourself. What kind of photos would he even want?

YN: What kinda photos are we talking about?

SH: Anything, I'm just here to help. Just like you did for me.

You spent almost twenty minutes trying to find a photo that seemed decent enough to send. Changing your outfit, messing with your hair, cleaning your room a little bit. You settled on a candid photo of you reading a book in some loose-fitting clothes. Your shirt was almost falling off your shoulders, and your shorts barely peeked out to show you were wearing any. You sent it to Sunghoon and waited anxiously for his response.

SH: Looks good.

You frowned at his response. You really look all the time just to get that kind of response from him... You tossed your phone away from you and went to the living room to find Jay and Sunghoon. Both were sitting on the couch, using their phones. But as soon as you walked in, Sunghoon tucked his phone.

"I'm gonna hit the bathroom really quick." He said as he brushed past you.

Jay didn't acknowledge it, but you sure did. Sunghoon was acting weird again.

"Jay, have you noticed anything about Sunghoon lately?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Same old Sunghoon."

You scoffed at your brother. "Since when have you been so uncaring?"

"And since when did you care so much?" Jay raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his phone.

"Never!" You turned and stormed off from Jay. Clearly, he wasn't going to be helpful, so you needed to get to the bottom of things yourself. As soon as you got into the hallway of the bathroom, you could see the light was on, but the door was barely open. The bathroom door got messed up when Jay closed the door too hard, making it difficult to keep the door shut. A small push could open it. But Sunghoon didn't know that. You moved forward to pull it closed, but then heard Sunghoon breathing heavily.

You leaned closer to the door to listen.

"...Jeez. You're so beautiful. Y/n, holy fuck." Sunghoon softly moaned.

You moved to peek through the crack. Sunghoon was jerking himself to something on his phone, moaning your name. You didn't realize you were holding your breath watching him. His hand stroked quickly, his hair bounced lightly, and his mouth hung open with his eyes squeezed shut. His thick arms pulsed, and his veins popped. His legs shook and shifted in pleasure. You inched closer to get a better look at Sunghoon's phone, but accidentally touched the door which creaked slightly and scared Sunghoon.

"Y–Y/N! I–" Sunghoon scrambled to cover himself but he dropped his phone while doing it. His phone landed face up, showing what he was masturbating to; the photo of yourself you'd sent earlier...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk here..." You said as you turned around and shut the door.

There was shuffling, and then the door opened. Sunghoon's face was wracked with guilt. "Y/n, I'm sorry. I..." His voice trailed off, not knowing what to say.

You turned to him. "Be honest."

He gulped before opening his mouth to answer. "I–I'm really into you, y/n. I've been like this for a while... And, I get it if you're not interested in me."

You stepped forward and kissed his cheek, leaving him dumbfounded. "Come to my room tonight. Wait till Jay's asleep." You walked off toward your room without waiting for his response. You couldn't look him in the face after what you'd seen. All you could think about was his dick and the expression he was making, replaying again and again in your mind. You stayed in your room for the rest of the night, and when Jay knocked on your door to check on you, you told Jay that you didn't want to hang out anymore.

Around midnight, the house had fallen asleep except for you. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you heard a soft knock at the door.

"Y/n? It's me." Sunghoon whispered through the door.

You opened the door and let Sung Hoon in. You sat down on your bed, and he sat down on the far end of it, awkwardly looking at you in the low light of the moon that dripped in from your window.

"I've already seen it, so you can't be awkward with me now." You stated, trying to start the conversation.

"I know... I just didn't want you to find out like that. It's embarrassing." He scratched his head. "You just looked so good in that picture. The moment I saw it, it was hard. And then I saw you in person. I needed to deal with it."

You shifted a little closer to him. "Well, you were sending those pictures first. I was just following your lead."

"I wasn't trying to be sexy in the pictures..."

"Well, you're bad at not being sexy. And, why would you send that shirtless one if you weren't making a pass at me."

Sunghoon's ears went pink. "Well–Maybe I was fishing a little. But I didn't think you'd send anything back to me."

"So it's my fault?"

He turned to you. "No! I didn't mean it like that. I meant–" Sunghoon couldn't finish his sentence as he watched you unbutton your shirt.

"What? Aren't you going to get undressed?"

Sunghoon looked away from you. "Wait, what's actually happening right now?"

You shyly started putting your shirt back on. "I thought you came so we could... have sex. Or something. That was dumb, I'm sorry–"

Sunghoon knelt down in front of you and stopped your hands. "No, it's not dumb. I liked it. I was just thrown for a second. We can do that if you want. But I want to take it off you if you'll let me."

You let your hands rest, Sunghoon slowly stripped off your shirt, touching you gently, caressing your skin, and breathing in your scent deeply as he did. Once your shirt was off, he tossed his aside roughly, revealing his muscular torso to you. You automatically looked away, but he sweetly pulled your chin to face him.

"You can touch me, y/n." He spoke with softness in his voice and looked up at you with warm eyes.

You placed a hand on his shoulder. It was stiff and strong. You traced his muscles down his arm until your hands met his and locked into his fingers.

"We'll go however far you want, y/n. Whatever you want, I'm all yours." He kissed your hand.

"Can you call me baby?"

He chuckled. "Baby."

Your heart fluttered at his deep voice calling out to you.

"Baby, can I touch you?"

You nod.

Sunghoon uses his other hand to wrap around your waist and lift you off the bed, moving you so he'd sit on the bed and you on his lap. "Is this okay?" He slightly leaned in for a kiss, pausing for your consent.

You nod again. Leaning in to meet him.

Sunghoon's hands traced your chest before landing on your hips. Your hands traveled up his waist and stopped at his neck as the two of you made out. Every time you moaned Sunghoon would pull you closer to him, squeezing you slightly. You could feel him slowly grinding into you, his hips lurching upward for just a moment of sensation. You arch your back, laying your ass down to meet him, earning a groan from him.

"Keep doing that, baby." He moaned into the kiss.

You pulled away from the kiss. "We can keep moving forward."

Sunghoon lets you climb off of him. The both of you face away from one another as you toss aside your pants and underwear, leaving you both naked.

You felt a little too exposed. "Actually, can I have my shirt back?

Sunghoon handed it to you, and you took it without looking back at him. You slipped it on but left it unbuttoned and open. Slowly, you turned around to let him see you.

"You look amazing with it on. Good call." He complimented.

You blushed at his compliment and lay on the bed. "Are you coming?"

Sunghoon crawled onto the bed, positioning himself over you. "Are you prepared, or do you need me to do it?"

You covered your face. "Don't ask embarrassing questions. Just check if it's enough for you."

Sunghoon smiled. "Will you lick my fingers?"

You moved your hands just enough to show your mouth and let it open. He delicately placed his fingers on your tongue and let you work them over, tossing and turning them. You got them so wet that they were dripping as he took them out.

"Jesus, that's hot." Sunghoon put them in his mouth.

"Hoon–" He then slipped two fingers into you, making you cover your mouth so you didn't slip out any loud noises.

Sunghoon pushed and pulled softly, searching around and bending his fingers. When he found your spot, he felt you suddenly squeeze his fingers. "There it is. Now, I know where to aim."

You were starting to drool with all the foreplay. Or maybe it was an overexcited thing. Either way, Sunghoon noticed and licked your cheek, drinking your spit.

"We're going to start now. Anything you need to do?" He asked one more time for your consent.

"I've been waiting for you to get to it..." You muttered.

"Oh, baby, are you getting impatient?" He teased me.

You didn't answer and Sunghoon lined himself with your hole before slowly sliding his length inside you. You held the sheets of the bed, trying to control your noises as he filled you. He was so big, and every vein and twitch felt like an explosion inside of you. You struggled to stay still while you got used to him.

"You can do it, baby."

You moaned. "Seven inches is more than I've had before..."

"Did you count my inches with your hole? How lewd." Sunghoon chuckled. "And, we're not done yet."

Your mouth twitched a smile. "Just put it all in then."

Sunghoon put his hands on either side of your hips and pulled up into him, putting the last two inches into you.

"Nine!?" You almost screamed.

"Maybe it's 9.5, but who's counting? Now, stay quiet, or Jay will wake up." He leaned down to you, sliding his hand under your head. "Bite me if you need to."

You thought you didn't need to until you felt his hips move, and then your mouth instantly fixed itself to Sunghoon's collar. He groaned as he started moving slowly but picked up the pace when you moaned. Your thighs were raised, and your legs were around his waist, shaking as Sunghoon pulled you into him to meet his thrusts. You could feel Sunghoon's muscles moving and tensing as he controlled your body. He leaned back to see his work on you and caught you staring at his chest. His pecs were so big and bounced with every thrust.

"Oh? Does Baby like my chest? Wanna touch it?"

You nodded breathlessly.

Sunghoon leaned back down for you to touch them comfortably.

You squeeze them, pinching on his nipples. You were mesmerized by them.

"Since you like them so much, I'll keep them nice and big for you, okay?" Sunghood cool to you.

"O–Okay." You moaned as you held his pecs in your hands, kneading them roughly. The sensations were so intense you didn't even notice you'd already finished once, cum painting your stomach.

Sunghoon's thrusts got sloppier, losing their rhythm as his moans got shakier.

"I'm almost there, baby, hold on a little longer." He growled, hitting a few more times before his cum spilled into you. Which makes you cum again, painting yourself with more ropes of white. Sunghoon rode out his high, thrusting a few more times before pulling out. Cum spilling out of you, onto the bed.

Your body shook and convulsed every few seconds from the rush. You were a sticky mess, and Sunghoon took care of everything. He went into the bathroom and got you hot towels to clean you. And then he carried you to your bathroom so you could do your business. While you took care of yourself on the toilet, Sunghoon changed the sheets and waited for you to come out of the bathroom with new pajamas ready.

Sunghoon tucked you under the covers. "Goodnight, baby, I'll see you in the morning." He got under the covers with you to cuddle you.

You grabbed his arm. "You're not leaving? What about Jay?"

Sunghoon laughed. "He knows. I talked to him. He should be at Jungwon's house right now doing the same as us."

"Why would you tell him–Jungwon!? They're a thing!?"

"Since forever. And Jay's known for ages that I've liked you. After I talked to him about what happened, he chewed me out for being a pervert and jerking off in the house, but he gave me his blessing. So we don't need to worry about him~"

The two of you cuddled together for the night. You drifted to sleep to the sound of Sunghoon's heartbeat, plotting about your next morning...

[jjtheresidentbaby]

been having lots of babysitter! jonathan thoughts, so could you possibly do like cg!steve needs to go out for the day or has a long work day when little! reader is feeling really tiny and super fussy, so he has jonathan come over to babysit, maybe argyle is there too?

I just imagine he'd be really quiet and gentle with reader in babyspace and patient when they are nonverbal, just like sitting with them and giving them a bottle, and when they're feeling a bit better after being sad about steve being away so long, they have a dance party in the living room 

(sorry if this is like way too long or if you dont write like babysitter stuff, theres absolutely no pressure!)

˚. ❝₊˚ last minute ❞ ˚₊·

» johnathan byers x reader

» a/n: omg this request is over a year old, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to 😭 also sorry I couldn’t fit everything you asked for in, I had trouble figuring out how to write jon

» warnings: fussy reader, crying, pet names, bottle feeding

You cling your hands tighter onto Steve’s yellow sweater, face stuffed into his chest, a wet spot of tears under you that’s only growing larger as he tries to hand you off to Johnathan.

“I’ll be back tonight, I swear baby.” Steve assures for the millionth time, it does nothing to help you calm down. You’ve dropped younger than normal and while Steve hadn’t wanted to leave you, Robin already called out with the flu so Steve doesn’t have the option of staying home. It’s hell for him to see you so distraught.

“No!” You cry and Steve lets out a sad sigh. It’s been five full minutes of you, Steve, and Johnathan standing in the doorway of Steve’s house waiting for you to let go of Steve and for Johnathan to take over caring for you as he’s the only one around that’s able to watch you on such short notice.

“It’s okay little one, we’ll have fun while Steve’s gone.” Johnathan ducks his head to meet your eyes when you turn your head against Steve’s pec, only offering a sniffle in reply to Johnathan.

“See? Jon’s a good caregiver, you guys will have a great day. Now I- I gotta go-.” Steve starts to pull you off of his chest and instantly more tears start to streak down your face, hiccuping cries leaving your throat as Johnathan takes over holding you on his hip.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll be back.” A kiss gets pressed to your forehead before Steve’s bounding down the driveway to his car, probably already ten minutes late for work, which is the only reason you decide not to put up much of a fight when Johnathan takes you inside.

“I know we don’t know each other that well but I want to help you and for today to be a good day. Is there anything you want that I can do to help?” Johnathan speaks softly, it reminds you of how Joyce talks to littles, kind and caring in that signature Byers way.

“Bottle?” You ask shyly but Johnathan instantly nods and hefts you up to get a more comfortable hold on you before walking to the kitchen.

Nothing is said as Johnathan makes the bottle, you point to the cabinets everything’s in and then lean against him as he starts to hum a song under his breath. The rumble of his chest is grounding in a way and lets your tears turn to sniffles before ceasing all together- you still miss Steve and wish he didn’t have to go to work- but Johnathan isn’t so bad.

“Let- let me know if I’m tipping it too much.” Johnathan says with a nervous undertone to his words, you know he has nothing to be nervous about, you’ve seen him take care of Nancy plenty of times and he’s never done anything to raise concern.

You nod anyways and latch onto the bottle once he holds it out for you. He has one bent arm under your head as you sit on Steve’s couch and his eyes don’t leave your face, gently scanning your features for discomfort as you suck down the drink, slower than you’d usually drink it. You’re honestly exhausted from earlier and don’t have the energy to move with the speed and eagerness you normally have.

“All set? Do you wanna watch a movie?” It’s obvious you’re close to falling asleep but Johnathan flicks the Tv on despite it, shifting to get more comfortable on the couch as he suspects you’ll fall asleep in the position you’re in right now.

“You can nap if you wanna.” The assurance is all you need to close your eyes and curl into Johnathan more, hoping you’ll sleep long enough that your emotions won’t be so intense when you wake up and maybe you can enjoy having Johnathan here more.

[https-hunter]

I am lucky enough that Cinemark approached my college’s animation department with the offer to attend an advanced screening of the first 35 minutes of Inside Out 2.

I loved it.

The original Inside Out came out when I was eleven and I’ve adored it since, so this was a really cool opportunity as a longtime fan and current animator.

So here’s a description of what goes on in the first half hour & some of my thoughts.

Massive spoilers for Inside Out 2 below the cut!!

The movie starts out with Riley’s hockey game. Each one of the five main emotions takes a turn at the wheel during the game. Joy get Riley excited, Anger gives her the aggression she needs on the ice, Fear reminds her to put her mouth guard in, Disgust makes it realize that it’s not hers, and Sadness takes over when Riley is given a penalty.

During her time in the penalty box, the emotions reflect on what Riley has been up to lately. She turned 13, got braces, started growing, and has two best friends she plays hockey with, Grace and Bree. We see the personality islands and it’s noted that Friendship Island is majorly overshadowing Family Island. We’re also introduced to Riley’s sense of self, which is made up of affirmations she has for herself after different memories are added to it (i.e.: “I’m a good friend” “I’m a good person, etc.). It is comprised of different strings that say the affirmation when they are strung. Joy also reveals a machine she has that sends memories to the back of the head, which I guess is like repressed memories.

When she gets out of the penalty box, Riley, Grace, and Bree score a winning goal and are approached by the local high school’s hockey coach. She invites the three of them to hockey camp that weekend, to which they all immediately accept.

The night before camp, the emotions are all in bed. I need to add that Joy & Sadness share a bunk, Anger is by himself as he punches the air, and Disgust & Fear bunk together. Sadness & Joy hear an odd sound and they find the puberty button going off, no matter what they do to stop it. A construction crew comes in & basically makes a mess of headquarters.

The next day, Riley wakes up and she isn’t ready for hockey camp. When her mom asks why she isn’t packed, Anger responds, but Riley overreacts even though he barely touched the console. Sadness and Disgust try it, but Riley’s just having mood swings now and they find the console to be way more sensitive than it used to be. They decide to leave it alone unless they absolutely have to use it.

Cut to the car ride to hockey camp. Riley is telling Grace & Bree how excited she is to play hockey together in high school. Disgust instantly flags a look Bree gave her and Bree’s own Disgust flags Riley’s look back. Grace blurts out that she and Bree are going to different high schools and Riley tries to hold it together until she’s out of the car. The emotions literally have to hold Sadness back 😭

This is where the new emotions show up. We meet Anxiety (I tried to stay normal over hearing Maya Hawke), Envy (she’s voiced by Ayo Edebiri !!), Embarrassment, and Ennui (Joy nicknames him “wee-wee”). We also later meet Nostalgia, a sweet old lady emotion, but Anxiety tells her she’s ten years too early. Anxiety explains her role in things and there’s a joke about how Fear thinks he’s going to get along really well with her. The new emotions all take the wheel, especially when Riley is trying to introduce herself to Val, a cool hockey player at the high school she’ll be attending. Anxiety, out of fear for Riley’s social future, has Riley follow Val and she meets some other hockey players. They all think she’s from Michigan and not Minnesota, but she just rolls with it.

When the girls are all ready for practice in the locker room, Riley & her friends act really immature while the coach is trying to talk. Joy tries to make things better, but Riley laughs at a joke one of her friends made at the wrong time. Coach makes everyone skate lines (I think?) as punishment.

Riley overhears some of the high school players talking about her and how immature she is. When Val is alone, Anxiety makes a plan and Riley approaches her and apologizes for getting everyone punished. Val tells her that it’s okay and that the coach being hard on her means that she’s under her radar, and that it’s a good thing.

Val tells her that they might be on the same team when they split into groups. This causes a divide between Joy and Anxiety. Joy thinks that Riley should stay with her current friends, while Anxiety thinks she should stick with Val. Riley does end up choosing Val’s team and we get a confused look from Grace and Bree.

In Riley’s head, Anxiety carries out phase two of her plan. She tells the older emotions that they’re not needed anymore and literally bottles them up. They’re sent to the Vault, which is a, well, vault that holds Riley’s deepest secrets.

In here we meet Bloofy, a Dora the Explorer/Mickey Mouse Clubhouse-style cartoon character whose secret is that Riley still enjoys the show. We also meet Lance, a video game character Riley has a crush on, whose only defense move is rolling into a ball and moving forward. There’s also Riley’s deepest secret, but he doesn’t really talk. I just have to nerd out over the different animation styles here. Lance, while being 3D, is so pixelated and made to look like an anime-style video game character. Bloofy is fully 2D animated. You had all these animation students in the audience LOVING this scene.

Riley’s deepest secret breaks the jar the emotions are bottled up in. Bloofy uses what is clearly supposed to be the Mystery Mousekatool from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and they’re given three tool options: a tomato, something else I don’t remember, and dynamite. They use the dynamite and blow the door open. I need you guys to know that Lance cannot leave at first because he keeps walking into the wall. And then he just Riley’s secret decides to stay. The cops/guards in Riley’s mind catch them at first, but for reasons that I can’t really remember, they all end up incapacitated (handcuffs on their feet, slipped on coffee, etc.).

The emotions begin their journey to get back to headquarters and take Riley back from Anxiety’s plan.

I think the new emotions will be really good for Riley. I was not expecting Anxiety to become an antagonist, though! I love the new ways they’ve explained different parts of the mind, like the sense of self and repressed memories. The visuals are, of course, gorgeous and the story captures the sheer horror that is being 13.

I really love it so far. I’m beyond thrilled that I had this opportunity, and now I have an Inside Out 2 tote bag. I can’t wait to see the rest of it in June.

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of drug use

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 11

Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.

Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.

One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.

“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.

Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”

“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.

“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”

I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.

Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.

Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.

“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.

Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”

“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”

Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.

There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.

James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”

James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”

What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”

Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.

“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.

Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”

Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”

From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.

I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”

Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”

Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.

Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”

That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.

Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.

Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.

I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.

But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.

I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.

Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.

Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.

I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.

“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”

It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn’t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.

I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.

During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.

I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?

I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.

That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.

On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.

Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”

“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”

I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.

I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.

On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.

Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.

Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”

And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.

As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - so cute🎀

[bobgasm]

boogie fever | a whodunit? fanfic

pairing: robert “bob” floyd / mickey “fanboy” garcia word count: 1743 warnings: alcohol, piss poor dancing, a dynamic crime solving duo,

summary: in which a movie inspires a whole dance sequence at the local roller rink

author’s note: yes this is a fanfic of a fanfic. sue me. this is for @attapullman bc i can’t stop thinking about whodunit?

oneshot | masterlist

It all started from watching Footloose, if you can imagine. Mickey had invited Bob over for a movie night, neither guy had any inkling about what to watch. They’d prepared snacks – popcorn with M&M’s thrown in the mix, and Bob had bought over a case of beers. 

They were celebrating closing another case – a simple job, really. Mrs McClanagan from down the street had a sneaking suspicion that her husband of ten years was cheating on her. The guys had hosted a stakeout over the next week, following Mr McClanagan around town as inconspicuously as they could manage. 

Their old ‘65 Mustang had seen better days, but given that Bob was slowly working on it with his father, they were just happy to have a set of wheels. Bob was sure one of the fuses for the left rear tail light needed to be replaced, but neither of them were all that bothered. Mickey always had a new receipt for a replaced bulb whenever they were inevitably pulled over, to be let off with a warning that next time they’d be ticketed. So far, next time hadn’t come. 

They’d been hole’d up in the Mustang every day for four days. Peanut shells sat in the footwell by Mickey’s feet, used napkins with their chicken scratch writing had been stuffed into the glove compartment, detailing several thrilling games of tic tac toe. Mickey held a pair of binoculars up to his eyes as he scanned the crowd at the morning market, while Bob drummed along on the steering wheel to an overplayed song – he’d forgotten to grab more than one tape. 

There had been a brief discussion about the importance of music on stakeouts. Bob admitted it had been an oversight on his part – he usually had a small box in the glove compartment with a bunch of different tapes. He’d forgotten that he and Mickey had removed them to splice their own mix-tape over the weekend, and failed to put them back. Or bring the newly curated tape of their favourite songs. 

They’d uncovered absolutely nothing from following him, other than the fact that he had a bizarre habit of scratching his ass and then sniffing his hand. They’d shared a look of mild disgust, then decided to turn their efforts towards the woman that hired them. 

Bob had thought it was weird that Mrs McClanagan didn’t have any obvious reason to doubt her husband’s fidelity. There were no shirts that smelt like another woman’s perfume, or late nights at the office. Nothing that would suggest Mr McClanagan was cheating. 

“What if she was the adulterer?” Bob had asked Mickey. “Think about it. How often does someone assume their partner is cheating on them, when in reality, they are the cheater themselves?”

“It’s a good theory,” Mickey agreed. “Let’s start fresh tomorrow. We’ve been following a dead end for a week.”

So they’d tailed Mrs McClanagan instead, and what they found shocked them. As soon as ten minutes after her husband left for work in the morning, she was sneaking out the back door and signaling to her neighbour that the coast was clear. 

They’d had a few cases like the McClanagan’s before. Nine times out of ten, the wife had proof. Lipstick smeared on the collar of the husband’s shirt, a lack of initiating sex from the cheating spouse, or late night after late night at the office. For the first time ever, though, it had been the wife who was sneaking around. 

Hell, their first ever case had been one on adultery. Sure, they were seven and didn’t know the meaning of the word, but they’d discovered two of the neighbours liked to “nap” together. Using crayons to scribble their comings and goings, as well as some toy binoculars Mickey got for his birthday. Bob’s attic had a perfect line of sight into the neighbours backyard, but sometimes they’d climb the tree for the thrill of it. 

And now here they were at 23, still bright eyed and bushy tailed about solving yet another cheating case. One day they hoped to solve something that was more thrilling, but for now, they settled for the small payday and keeping watch over their neighbourhoods.

Mrs McClanagan had been shocked by their findings, promptly handing them an envelope and telling them “this stays between us!” before slamming the door in their face. It hadn’t deterred them, but rather spurred them on. Excited for whatever their next case might be. 

Footloose was a favourite movie among the duo. They weren’t necessarily good dancers, but the music made them feel alive. Singing along to Kenny Loggins and, after a few beers, attempting to learn the infamous dance. Mickey was adamant they were getting closer, their timing was still slightly off and the tape skipped a few parts due to how worn it was, but they were close. He was sure they almost had it nailed. 

With each watch, they danced along when they could. Having a laugh and tripping over their feet a couple times, but the point was they were having fun. They enjoyed the challenge, and who were they to turn one away?

Through hard work, sweat, and a few tears, they eventually cracked it. Breaking out in the dance wherever they were whenever they heard the song playing. They always drew a crowd – people gathering to see who was dancing, always surprised to see the amateur detectives absolutely killing it. 

Mickey had always brought out a more adventurous side of Bob. He could be quiet and reserved, but with the influence of his best friend, anything was possible. Bob kept Mickey grounded whenever his ideas seemed to get away from him. The two balanced each other out perfectly, and so long as they weren’t causing any trouble, their mothers let them run rampant. Both thrilled their sons had found a good friend. 

It was only natural that they’d take their little routine further. With Footloose nailed, they started working on a new routine. Something to keep them entertained between cases, and after a few drinks. Neither man could tell you whose idea it was to add roller skates and attempt a more challenging routine, but they’d both claim it was their own idea. Taking pride in the fact that they could dance and skate simultaneously. 

But the real test was what everyone at the roller rink had to say. 

It was packed on a Saturday night. Bob wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans while anxiously waiting for Mickey to return with their drinks. He spied the familiar green baseball cap weaving through the crowd and breathed a sigh of relief when his best friend’s face came into his view. 

“Are you really sure that tonight is the night for this?” Bob asked for the umpteenth time.

Mickey grinned in response. “When have I ever led you astray?”

“In second grade, when you were convinced that one of the girls had lice so we stole her hat to check for bugs,” Bob listed. Mickey waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m not done. There was later that year wit–”

“Okay, so maybe my judgement is off sometimes,” he agreed. “We’ve been practicing for this, Bob, c’mon! Just one dance with me and then we can go.”

“Eyebrows,” Bob said. “If, after one dance, we don’t leave, you have to shave your eyebrows off.”

Mickey groaned. His eyebrows were still slightly patchy from the last time he’d gone back on his word. “Really? Fine, okay. Eyebrows,” Mickey agreed. “But you have to give it your all. No half-assing this routine, you hear me?”

Bob sighed in defeat. “Okay, okay. Did you pay the DJ to play our song?”

“Mhm,” Mickey mumbled. “We have time to finish our drink before we get out there and skate around for a bit. You’ll do great, Bob. Trust me.”

“I do, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Mickey downed half of his drink. Bob sipped at his own, eyes scanning the rink to find several familiar faces. 

“Stop overthinking it,” Mickey chastised. “We’re all here to have fun. Let’s have fun!”

“I don’t know how you’re so carefree all the time,” Bob grumbled.

“Whatever happens, happens,” Mickey said with a shrug. “I don’t want to sit back and watch life pass me by. I want to spend it doing cool shit I can tell my grandkids one day. Do it for the memories. Do it for your future grandbabies.”

With their drinks finished, and a lot of encouragement from Mickey, Bob followed his best friend out onto the rink. Mickey knew it would take some time for Bob to warm up – it wasn’t just them practicing alone in their living room now. They would have all eyes on them the second people realised what they were doing. 

They skated around the rink and had fun, building up speed and synchronising their skating. A lot of people had similar ideas, soon falling into line behind them in a skating conga. Mickey didn’t have to look at Bob to know he was grinning, enjoying the atmosphere around them, but he still took pleasure in knowing that Bob would eventually get into it. All he needed was that friendly push. 

The beginning notes of their chosen song, Boogie Wonderland, flooded the room. The dynamic duo shared a grin before Mickey pivoted and started skating backwards. 

He still kept in time with Bob, the pair drawing attention as they pulled off trick after trick, a perfectly choreographed routine that had spectators, and fellow skaters, clearing a room for them. Allowing them to have the rink to themselves to see how this would play out. 

The space was much bigger than their living room, but they adapted with grace. Which, if you asked anyone who knew them, wasn’t something they came by too easily. They’d rehearsed falls and miscalculations so it still looked like part of the routine to anyone looking, but they’d know. Even as Mickey spun Bob a little too much and flung him ahead a little too fast, Bob had the time to recover before he hit the wall. It all looked like it was purposeful. Deliberate. 

And when the song ended and cheering erupted, they knew they’d done better than they’d anticipated. Basking in the five seconds of fame before the next song started and everyone made their way around the rink again. 

[pastelwitchling]

maybe Alex night out with Kyle and Michael waiting for him at home

***

Michael checked his watch. This was getting ridiculous.

So Alex had gone out for the night. So it was with Kyle. So they were having a cozy little get together, all alone, having beers and getting drunk and losing all inhibitions—

Michael sat down on the couch of his living room and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. This was getting so ridiculous. After he and Alex had gotten married, Michael was the one who’d insisted that he keep his beer chats with Kyle. Alex had been tired and overworked, and Michael – though he loathed to admit it – hadn’t been around Alex for the past several years the way Kyle had. He hadn’t known the depth of Alex’s exhaustion the way only Kyle did, and forcing him to relive every moment of it for context’s sake wasn’t something Michael was eager to put him through, at least not all at once. Kyle became the one person he could really talk to, and Alex was the one person who offered that reprieve to Kyle too, even as he dated Isobel; a literal mind reader.

No one, Michael had been willing to admit one night when he’d arrived late to find Alex curled up on the couch, waiting for him with dark circles of exhaustion and misery under his eyes, could really replace the other for them. So Michael, in a desperate attempt to cheer Alex up and help him breathe, had all but demanded that Alex see Kyle the way he used to. Regular nights out with his best friend, just what he needed.

Except now, there was no miserable Alex for incentive, and Michael’s resolve had weakened once again to grumblings and sulking. Wasn’t he supposed to be Alex’s best friend? What did Kyle know about him anyway that Michael didn’t already know? How close were the two anyway? Had something happened between them in the time Alex and Michael had been apart? What if this time together rekindled some old flame?

Michael stood back up, resumed his pacing as some romcom that he’d turned on for the sake of distraction played in the background. Hugh Grant’s confessions of love were not helping Michael’s stray thoughts.

He loved Alex more than anything, but Alex was irresistible.

That was an objective fact.

Anyone would be bound to fall in love with him. Even Isobel ogled him whenever she got the chance.

Michael froze. What if Kyle confessed his feelings, as he was bound to, and Isobel roped him into a poly hookup or something? No, no, Michael scoffed at his own absurd paranoia as he resumed pacing. As if Alex would ever get involved in something like that. No, Michael just really had to get a hold on himself now.

It was only nine thirty, and Alex had said he’d be back by ten. He had another half hour of anxious pacing before he had any real cause to lose his mind. Michael sat down to watch the movie, trying to calm down, and stood up almost immediately at the sound of the lock turning.

He blinked as Alex walked in, still shivering at the night air. He was busy toeing off his boots and hanging his keys and coat on the hook to notice Michael watching him from the end of the hallway, when he called, “Michael?”

“Right here,” Michael said, and climbed off the couch without taking his eyes off Alex. “What happened?”

Alex tilted his head, smiling. His complexion already looked better, his eyes shining brighter at the sight of Michael. “What do you mean?”

“You’re back early,” he said, looking Alex over. Marriage had made him a worried lover, and he was fine with that. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex chuckled, and pecked Michael’s lips. “I just missed you. We still have any chicken left?”

“In the fridge,” Michael murmured. A smile tugged at his lips, and before he could stop it, it widened to something giddy, the knot of tension in the pit of stomach loosened to nothing. He sat down at the kitchen island as Alex pulled the roasted chicken out of the fridge. “So you missed me, huh?”

“Duh,” Alex said, like Michael should’ve known that the second they were apart, he would be all Alex thought of. The idea made a giggle burst through Michael’s lips. “You okay?”

“Uh,” Michael scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, guess I just missed you too. Did you and Valenti have a good talk?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged a shoulder, “it was nice catching up.” As he heated up the chicken in the microwave, he pulled out two plates, already assuming he and Michael would be having a late dinner together. “What about you? You weren’t just waiting up for me, were you?”

Alex asked like he was joking, like he hadn’t actually thought Michael had been waiting for him. He genuinely had just wanted to see Michael, so he’d left early. Michael’s heart warmed and his smile turned too smug and happy as he rested his chin on his palm, watching his husband, back in their home, safe and sound and rested.

“Now that really doesn’t sound like me.”

[postwarlevi]

Kindness at Christmas

Content: Nearly 3.7k words showing some of your most recent Christmas, and a long flashback of how you got there.

Extras: Another piece for @levi-supreme Happy Birthday Levi event! This got a little longer than I realized and I teared up a couple times writing it! I hope you love it!!

"We did it!" Your daughter giggles happily as her father places her back down.

He's just helped hold her up to put the star on top of your six foot Christmas tree.

"It looks beautiful!" You say, coming to hug them both. Levi kisses you softly and smiles.

"We still have more to do!" Your seven year old is always very excited for the Christmas season. Not because of the toys, although that helps, but because of the lights and the magic, the movies and the music, the yummy foods, and the family time.

"Grandma Kuchel is coming over tomorrow to help, don't worry." Levis mom loves coming to see you. She dotes on all of you and spoils her granddaughter and even her new grandpup that you got at the shelter earlier in the year.

"Yay!" She loves her grandma and runs to hug her doggy who barks and plays with her.

You and Levi smile at the happy sight.

"I love you." He whispers, pulling you close.

"I love you too." You share another sweet kiss in front of your Christmas tree, before reaching to adjust a small gold star ornament.

It's taken a long time to get here, it hasn't always been easy, but it's been worth it.

"Daddy! Read to me!" Your little one is a daddies girl, and it warms your heart to see them together.

She goes to pick out a Christmas book, which is tradition for Levi to read the night you put up your tree.

You make mugs of hot chocolate for each of you and all go into the living room.

Levi gives the dog a chew toy so he'll settle in and the pup takes it to his bed in the corner.

As you and your daughter snuggle on the couch, Levi pulls out one of the many fleece blankets in the closet and comes to put it over you.

"Thank you sweetheart." You look at him fondly as he sits down with you both and picks up the book.

Just as he's about to start reading your daughter stops him.

"Daddy, why do you always wrap mommy in a blanket?" She notices he does this a lot, and even though you have blankets, every year he gets you another one.

"So she never gets cold, my little snowflake." Levi smiles at you as you brush his hair back.

She looks between the two of you, not quite understanding.

"Are you sick?" She asks you in a concerned voice.

"No my sweet girl. It's just, there was a time we didn't have this many blankets." You hug her.

"So you were cold?" She looks up at you.

"A little, but daddy was always there to keep me warm." You share a smile.

"Everything is fine now, so let's listen to daddy read, okay?" You two hold each other as Levi takes a sip of hot chocolate and begins.

"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse" Levi reaches over and touches your daughters nose, making her giggle.

You smile and get lost in thought as Levi continues.

FLASHBLACK

Ten Years Ago

It's December, and you look around your tiny apartment, sighing that you barely have enough money to keep the electric on, so there's no way you can afford decorations.

It's your first year as a married couple. You thought it would be better than this. You've tried so hard but, times are tough.

You don't like to bother friends or family, because they have their own things to deal with.

You hear the door unlock and your husband comes in from work, taking his coat off.

"Levi!" You skip over to him and lean into his hug. Even if everything isn't going right, as long as you are together, the future is bright.

"Hi love, how was your day?" He asks, kissing you.

You bite you lip and he notices. "It's okay, tell me." He leads you to the small couch.

"They cut my hours back at work again." You hate to tell him this. You are part time already, and it's a seasonal job, but apparently they hired too much help.

Levi sighs and holds you. "It's okay. Don't worry. We'll be okay."

Levi closes his eyes and tries to believe this. You went into marriage thinking putting both your funds together would work nicely.

You had a beautiful wedding with friends and family, and an even better honeymoon. Everything was perfect.

But then you came back home, and things started to fall apart.

Old student debts, a couple minor but important medical problems, the car breaking down, a rent increase.

It's been one thing after another and no matter how hard you try, something else always comes up.

Levis mother has tried to help out but you don't want to make things hard for her. Same with your family.

So instead Levi picked up a second job while you tried to at least keep the one you had while finding another, but everyone wants a job right now.

So some nights you've made less food, you've sold some wedding presents that though you wanted, didn't necessarily need. And though it's getting colder, you purposely don't put the heat up as much as you'd like.

You try not to cry but Levi senses it.

He pulls back and holds you cheeks. "I promise, everything will be fine."

You nod and sniffle. "I know. I just want it to be better now." You move closer and rest your head on his chest. Your happy place.

He plays with your hair and watches you move up and down on his chest as he breathes.

"You know what we need? A Christmas tree." He says suddenly, surprising you.

"But we don't even have dinner!" Your logical side says.

He chuckles and kisses your forehead. "Come on, trust me."

And of course you do. So you both put on your sweaters and get the car running and he drives.

You see the tank nearing empty and frown.

"Stop that." Levi reaches out to hold your hand as he drives.

You put on the radio to Christmas music and listen to Frank Sinatra sing you Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light Next year all our troubles, will be out of sight"

You squeeze Levis hand as you wish it were next year.

Levi pulls into a Christmas tree lot and you look around, smelling the fesh pine scent.

"We'll have to keep it small." He tells you, and you nod.

"Thats okay." You don't mind. You're actually feeling a little more optimistic already.

Holding hands and looking at all different ones and seeing what's in your budget, you settle on a pretty nice four foot tree that will fit just fine in your house.

Levi pays and loads it up and you get back in the car. "And look, some money for decorations." He leans over to kiss you as you smile.

You go to the store and pick out the cheapest lights you can find. All blue, but they look pretty. You pick out red garland as well and a tree skirt.

"This will do." You don't want to overspend on all the individual ornaments when you could use this money elsewhere.

You put the things in the car and on the way out notice an elderly gentleman not looking well off, playing a guitar and using his case for tips.

You go to stand by him and Levi comes over to you, kissing your cheek.

You pull out a few dollars and throw one into the case for the man.

He thanks you and you nod, getting back into the car and closing your eyes.

"That's a nice thing you did, love."

You start to sob suddenly and Levi leans over to comfort you. "It's okay, let it out."

"I feel so stupid. I keep thinking we aren't doing well because I can't even make you a decent dinner but here we have enough money to get a tree and that man has to sit outside in the cold and ask for it!"

You wet his shirt with your tears as he holds you. "We're going to be okay." He promises you.

You pull back and wipe your eyes and nod. "I know." You let out a sigh. "Thank you."

He kisses your forehead. "Come on, let's grab a little something, we've both had a long day." He holds your hand again as he drives to a tiny diner and you pick up a meal that's for one person.

"I don't mind being cold at night sometimes, but we have to eat." You say once your inside and have the meal on the table.

You scrounge around for some other food and see some vegetables that would go nicely and bread that isn't yet expired and end up making enough with that and the warm meal you bought to be enough for both of you.

"See? You make wonderful meals." Levi encourages you and you smile, thankful for him.

You sit and eat by candle light to save on the electric and it's pretty cozy. You eat well tonight and go to put up your tree.

You flip the light switch so you can admire it and gasp. "It's beautiful!" You love the green, blue and red. It's your perfect little Christmas tree.

Levi holds you in his arms and kisses you.

"Thank you." You say, resting on his chest as you look at the tree.

"You're welcome, love." He kisses your forehead, and soon after pulls you to bed.

He folds the blanket twice and wraps you in it, while he takes the sheet.

"I don't want you to be cold." You say, holding him tight.

"Don't you worry about me. You just hold me and keep me warm." He smiles as you nod and try to move your weight onto him.

You exchange soft 'I love you's as you drift off to sleep.

Levi wakes in the morning, kissing your sleeping form, knowing you don't have to wake up yet.

He's a little cold but not freezing, and you seem pretty warm still.

He starts to get ready for work, wondering if there's any extra side jobs he can do.

Last night he dipped into the money he wanted to use to buy you something nice with that tree. But you needed it, and he was happy to give it to you.

After making sure you're still sound asleep, he locks up and heads to work, stopping to use a few dollars to fill the gas some.

He makes a cup of tea at work before his shift. It's not great but at least this way he doesn't use your water or electric.

His phone rings suddenly and it's his mother calling.

"Mom, what are you doing up this early?" He asks.

"I know you've been working long hours and wanted to say hello." She tells him.

He smiles. He loves talking to her.

"How are you Levi? How's my daughter in law? I'd like to see you soon." She isn't far away but knows you've been trying to adjust to married life.

"We're getting by." He says vaguely, and Kuchel catches the way he says it.

"Levi, what's wrong?" She asks in her mom way that says not to lie to her.

Levi sighs. "We're just a little behind on bills. Things are kind of tough. She lost some hours at her job and is worrying." Levi doesn't mention not eating properly or being cold at night, but he doesn't have to.

"Honey! You need to call me! I can help you." Kuchel cannot believe he hasn't told her sooner. All she knows if you two are very happy together.

"I don't want to bother you! I'm.. I'm really trying here mom." He let's his voice crack. All he wants to do is take care of you like you deserve, and not have to have someone come to the rescue.

"You keep trying your best. I know you both are, don't worry. And don't be afraid to say something!" She says sternly.

"Okay.. um. Look I'll pay you back, but can I borrow a little money? For gas and to get her something nice? I'll figure the rest out." He hates having to ask this of her.

"Of course! I'll drive over later before you get off. She doesn't need to know. And I'll bring you a nice homemade meal. You say you got it at your work party." Kuchel thinks of anything she can do for you.

"Okay. Thank you. I should go clock in now, I'm a little late. But, I really appreciate this." She's the best mother he could ever ask for. And he will pay her back.

"You go to work, don't worry about anything. I love you." Kuchel hangs up and starts planning.

At home you wake up and text Levi 'Good morning' not expecting anything back yet as you know he's working.

You fold the blanket and put on your robe and flip the switch to go look at your Christmas tree.

You sit there for a while and look around your apartment. It isn't much, things are difficult, but it's yours, yours and Levis.

Since your hours were cut back you don't have much to do today, and yet are feeling good.

You go for a walk in town and say hello to people and look at all the nice things in display windows.

You see an older woman carrying packages and go to assist her.

"Thank you dear! Would you help me upstairs?" She asks, and you nod.

You help her set the things on her table. It's a nice place. She has a grand Christmas tree.

"Thank you. Oh! I forgot to mail this darn letter!" She pulls it out of a bag.

"Oh, I can go." You offer. You pass a mailbox on the way and don't want her to go out again.

"Would you? That would be such a help. If it's not too much trouble, give this list to the bakery next door."

She gives you a list a page long.

"My family is coming for Christmas." She explains.

"That's nice. Anything else I can do?" It makes you feel good to be useful.

"I think that's all. I appreciate it. What's your name?" She asks, and you tell her.

"What a nice name. Do you have a fella?" She digs around in her purse.

"I do." You smile.

"That's nice dear. I hope you're very happy."

You nod, and she hands you another envelope.

"It's not another letter, it's for you. Do with it what you want. Thank you."

She sends you on your way with the letter, list and envelope, and you drop the things off like she's asked.

You stand on a side street and open the envelope. There's a thank you note.

"Thank you for your kindness. It goes further than you think. We never know what someone is going through. I wish you all the happiness. Here's a little something to brighten your day."

You dig in the envelope again and there's a little money inside and a small gold star Christmas ornament.

You smile and sigh happily. It's enough to do a little something with, and truly make your day brighter.

You think of the man playing guitar last night and hope the small contribution you made, made a difference.

Later in the day Levi has visited his mom and she's given him a little money, some food, and a bunch of hope.

"And don't you dare keep things from me!" She smacks his arm lightly, and he promises not to.

"What's that wonderful smell?" Levi walks into the house that smells of spices as he carries his own bags.

Today, when you greet him, you are in a much better mood than yesterday.

"Levi!" You stop your cooking to help him put his things down. "What's all this?"

He kisses you and tells you the truth. "Mom came by. I didn't ask for much but she insisted. Mothers intuition, I guess."

You look at the pans of homemade food and grin and laugh happily, hugging him.

"She's so wonderful! I had a good day too!" You smile.

"I see, what's that amazing smell?"

"We have soup in the pot and veggies roasting in the oven. It's enough for days! I even got some fresh apples and oranges. Now we have too much food!" What a good problem to have.

You tell him about your day and the women you met.

"She was very kind. I used some of the money and bought what was on sale to make this, donated a few dollars to a childrens fund, and we still have some money aside for bills! Not much, but it'll help." You say positively.

Levi holds your cheeks and kisses your mouth. "See? We're okay."

You smile and hug him as you finish dinner.

You eat very well that night and put leftovers in containers to keep fresh for the coming days.

Afterwards you pull out the little star ornament and together place it on your tree.

Levi makes the packs of hot chocolate Kuchel included and you sit and read A Christmas Carol together.

You share fond looks and smiles, and steal kisses throughout.

"I love you sweetheart." You say to him as you lay on the couch together.

"I love you too." He squeezes your sides lovingly and sighs as you run your hands through his hair.

"I'm going to pick up some hours tomorrow. And someone will give me their shift too, so I'll get a whole days work in." You tell Levi, happy you could find something.

"That's great." Levi wishes you didn't have to worry, or work. Maybe one day.

You both get ready for bed and Levi holds out a bag for you. "It's still days till Christmas, but I want you to have it now."

You sit on the bed together and open the large bag, pulling out a large, beautiful green fleece blanket.

You gasp and stand to open it. "It's gorgeous!" You admire it and Levi smiles.

"Do you like it?" Your reaction says you do but Levi wants to make sure.

"Yes!" You throw your arms around him and hold the blanket between you.

Levi chuckles and kisses your cheeks and nose.

"It looks so expensive." You note, looking at him.

"Don't you worry. It's fleece. A warm but inexpensive material. Wool was out of our price range." Levi explains.

You hug him tight. "Thank you my husband. For the tree, the blanket, always being there for me, no matter what." Somehow, you always make it work.

He holds you and strokes your hair. "You never have to thank me, my wonderful wife. You make me so happy."

What started as a dreary holiday season has started to turn around nicely.

Levi tucks you into bed that night, wrapping you both in the new blanket, putting the old one on top for extra warmth.

For the first time in a month, you don't go to sleep cold.

"Thank you." You whisper as you lay in bed together.

"You're never going to be cold again. I promise." Things will get better starting now. You're both sure of it.

END FLASHBACK

"But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

As you've been lost in thought, Levi has just finished reading.

You smile as you think of that first Christmas together. After that particular day, things really did turn around.

You both worked hard and things went your way, and slowly you caught up on your bills, had enough food every day, even enough money for small gifts, and as Levi promised, you went to bed warm every night.

You spent a lovely Christmas with friends and family and thanked Kuchel for her help, of which she brushed off and told you to always come to her. You send a thank you note to the woman you met, and you even found the guitar player again and made sure he had a nice meal.

Within a few years, thanks to steady jobs and promotions, your situation went from rough to fair to good to great. And you paid Kuchel back a thousand times over a few years later when you announced you were having a daughter.

"Mommy?" Your daughter looks up at you.

"Oh, sorry sweetie." You realize you had a tear in your eye.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

"Yes my love. I'm just very happy." You kiss her cheek and reach to hold Levis hand.

He knows what you've been thinking of, and is thankful that you've made all these new memories since.

Your daughter doesn't know the whole story, but does know one thing, and though she's been listening to her father read, she's been thinking of you.

She climbs off your lap and disappears into the hallway, your dog jumping up to follow his favorite person.

You look at Levi and smile. "Thank you."

He leans in to kiss you gently.

Suddenly your daughter comes back in with three other blankets and the dog following behind, making you laugh.

"What are you doing?"

She throws them all on you, spreading them out. Levi grins and watches.

She climbs back into your lap and hugs you. "You'll always be warm mommy. Right daddy?"

You smile widely and hold her tightly. "Thank you my sweet girl."

Levi leans over to hug you both. "That's right. And I love you both so much." He kisses you both back and fourth, making you laugh happily, even letting the dog up to cuddle with you.

Levi isn't sure how he got so lucky. He also always remembers that first Christmas, and how you stuck it out together.

All it took was a little help from loved ones, some kindness along the way, and a few fleece blankets.

[blacktobackmesa]

If everyone got to escape the computer for one (1) day, what would everyone want to do with their time? Together, or individual?

Optional if you put Gordon in the game or keep him irl lol

I feel like that's a conversation that they would have together. Something hypothetical that comes up when they're just hanging out, you know? Maybe on a rainy day, where Gordon's not feeling up to any games, and they're all just chilling together in voice chat.

___

"I think... I would want to have lunch."

Bubby snorted. "Lunch."

"Hey, it's achievable!" Gordon defended Tommy's choice. "I like it better than Benrey's plan to test if he can clip through my walls. But, uh. You do have lunch in there."

"But it's not your lunch," Tommy returned. "I don't have food from your-- from where you are! I want to see if it tastes different."

Gordon's eyebrows raised. "Huh. I never really thought about that."

"Now that's a fine idea!" Coomer lit up. "Gordon, isn't there a soda museum one state over from here? I think we could all make fine use of that, comparing flavors."

Tommy shook his head. "The World of Coca-Cola museum in Las Vegas was only open for a few years. We'd have to go all the way to... to the Atlanta one if we wanted to see the tasting room."

"Not that the trip from New Mexico to Nevada is a quick little jaunt," Gordon added. "If we only had a day to spend together, I'd hate to spend ten hours in the car."

Bubby huffed, crossing his arms. "Fine. I guess we'd have to rob a casino somewhere in this state instead."

"Oh, Atlanta's where they got the puppet museum, right?" Benrey joined in. "That's cool."

"If you want-- actually, y'know what? Air travel would be a new experience for at least a couple of you. We could take a plane to the east coast."

Bubby pointed to Coomer. "Good luck getting this one through the TSA. Metal detectors fear him."

The bionic boxer puffed up with pride, pleased with this description. "Now Gordon, I think there would be no better way to spend our time together than fistfighting airport security."

"Alright. So on our list, we've got: rob a casino, spend all of Gordon's money on cross-country plane tickets, get Gordon on the no-fly list, and potentially lose my security deposit," Gordon gave a dry review. "Anyone have any ideas that don't involve the neat getaway plan of going back into the computer? Because some of us don't have that option."

There was a moment of quiet thought.

"You know that scene with the mall from the movie with the sunglasses brothers? I think Bubby should--"

"Benrey, that is the opposite of what we should do."

"Come onnnn, it's not like anyone goes to malls anymore."

"...I've got something."

Darnold's voice was quiet, but it caught the attention of the group.

"Yeah?" Bubby prompted. "Alright, what've you got?"

"There's, um." Darnold hesitated. "I've looked into this before, actually. I've looked up the coordinates of the Black Mesa research facility... well, where it would have been, if it was real. Gordon, did you know it's only about an hour's drive away?"

Gordon blinked. "I did not. Figured it would be deeper into the desert."

"What's there now?" Tommy asked. "Is it, um, an old government site? For missile testing?"

"I bet it's a quirky and mysterious ghost town!" Coomer contributed. "Full of intrigue and quirky locals!"

Darnold shrugged. "Actually, it's... nothing. Not nothing nothing, Doctor Coomer. Just a lot of, y'know. Dirt. Plants. Bad cell service. And a nice view of the mountains."

There was no right way to respond to that information, really. Darnold seemed increasingly uncomfortable as their friends and companions couldn't find a reply.

After a minute, Tommy spoke.

"That sounds really nice," he said.

"Thanks."

"I know that's... I mean, I'm the one who said I wanted to eat lunch, but..."

"No, I agree," Coomer nodded. "I think I'd like that very much, Darnold."

"I wanna see it too," Benrey agreed. "S'like, closure or something. Bubby?"

The older scientist seemed to be lost in his own head. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I'm not sure."

"...There's also a nicely reviewed winery on the way," Darnold added coyly. "I wouldn't mind checking that out, either."

Bubby gave a light smile. "Well, I wouldn't mind that. If Gordon didn't mind the gas money and all."

"Wouldn't mind a bit."

__

Might go a bit like that, I think! Oh and when they got back from standing in the desert and sampling wine, Gordon would take them to the coolest damn art installation in Santa Fe. They'd all love it.

[rigaudon]

This was just gonna be another comparison but then I pulled out my binder and ended up with an illustrated essay.

So while the new cards are PRETTIER, at the same time, the quality on the new cards can't compare to the old ones. Ceruledge is super shiny, but the cardstock is VISIBLY thinner than Gengar's (and the fancy pants full art foils are even thinner), and the ink is so much DENSER on the old cards. The difference in ink saturation is most obvious when you compare the cardbacks

The old card is on the right in the first picture. Basic bitch 1999 nonfoil Dragonair feels 20× nicer to hold than 2023 glitterbomb hyperfoil. 💀💀💀

Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED talk, but while I have you here... let me give you a glimpse into the mind of me as a child. You might be wondering why the edges of all my old cards are so fucked up, it's because 1: they've been crammed in here for 24 years (holy shit, I'm old).

Which shouldn't be a big deal except for 2: As a Real Pokemon Trainer, my binder is in pokedex order and every variant I have of the same pokemon lives IN THE SAME SLEEVE TOGETHER (top card dictated by how shiny and/or how much 10-year-old-me liked the art), none of that side by side entire sheet of 9 squirtles bullshit. I stacked the squirtles.

(Yes, you are correct in the assumption that this means I was, 3: constantly taking them out of the sleeves and keeping 10+ cards in the same card holder, especially if I had a lot of cards of the pokemon on both sides of the page. I had to replace the sheets in the whole binder at least 2-3 times because I'd stick so many cards in them that the sides would rip and drop $500 in cardboard all over the pavement). I mostly fixed that when I stopped keeping dupes of the same art in there too.

But Raie, you say. Surely, this doesn't include foils and rare cards, right? Great question! Glad you asked!!

Say hello to single-sleeve Vileplume family!

Will I continue this tradition as an adult that should know better? Yes, absolutely.

What number am i on? 4? A few of them most definitely went through the washing machine at some point. Idk when i got a new one, but I got my original Pidgeot from a friend who'd left it in the pocket of her jeans and 80% of the card was fuzzy.

(Please don't ask why this mangled common Pikachu is the one I decided to display on top. Adult me doesn't know. Maybe mangled, stained, washing machine Pikachu was my first Pikachu and thus had sentimental value over literally any of the 30 other copies I had of that same Pikachu.) Now that I think about it I probably just put the FIRST copy i got in the binder for emotional attachment reasons, idk.

Speaking of sentimental value: I keep my ticket stub from the first pokemon movie between my Mews.

And i was going to end on that note until I saw this INSANE THING LOOK AT THIS. THIS. FISH. THIS FLAT, COMMON, BASIC FISH POKEMON IS OBJECTIVELY BETTER THAN FUCKING CHARIZARD.

Something something 20 year old card game something something power creep

I CAN ONLY INCLUDE TEN PICTURES ON THE APP SO GIVE ME A MINUTE BUT I HAVE TO PREFACE THIS NEXT REVELATION WITH: MEWTWO HAS 60 HP

[r1-jw-lover]

HULLO!!!!! :P

rank your top five fav ships from the john wick series !! :3

Hi, thank you for the ask. Just wanna put a disclaimer that my first venture into the JW fandom was through the fourth film, so my ranking list will be heavily biased on that movie.

John x Caine

It's not even one year since JW4 is out and John/Caine is already on the top ten most written ships on AO3 within the John Wick fandom.

This pairing has just the right amount of bittersweetness and melancholy for me, and putting it on top of the actors' chemistry, the gay divorced vibes, the bickering, friends to reluctant enemies, the parallels, being each other's mirror, their deep trust, understanding and care for one another, you get my number one JW ship on this list.

The friendship between John & Caine is definitely one of the most developed and convincing out of all the friends John Wick had in the series, and in spite of the circumstances forcing them to be pitted against each other, they still managed to find comfort in the other's presence regardless, and I think that in itself is beautiful.

2. Koji x John x Caine

You know what else is better than putting Keanu Reeves and Donnie Yen together in the same movie? Putting Keanu Reeves, Donnie Yen AND Hiroyuki Sanada together in the same movie.

You have already seen the incredible fanart [1, 2, 3] by the wonderful @ibahibut. They are THE old men yaoi of the recent decade of cinema, period.

The dynamics between the three of them are immaculate. Not only you have John & Caine (explanation above), John & Koji are very supportive of each other, and Koji & Caine have both the closeness and the inevitable tragicness that undercurrents their brotherhood.

All in all, I desperately need a prequel series of this trio.

3. John x Helen

It's the only canon romantic relationship in the series so it has to be on the list. Other than the fact that one of them is dead, I think that John/Helen is incredibly sweet, which make the heartaches even more painful.

John's grief for Helen's passing is one of the main driving forces for the character throughout the series. His almost religious love and devotion to his wife is all the more apparent given that Helen is the reason John had fought to stay alive for as long as four movies.

At the end of the day, John only wished to die not as the Baba Yaga but as a loving husband, finally succumbing to his wounds with Helen being his last thought before dying. (TAT)

4. Akira x Mia

Gosh, I love my lesbian rarepair too much. I initially shipped them merely for the shits and giggles (i.e. Akira getting back at Caine by dating his daughter lol), but then I also come to realise their potential as a pairing story-wise.

Outside of the obvious enemies to/and lovers vibes, I could imagine both Akira and Mia inheriting a lot of angst from their respective "father problems" that they must resolve between each other. Will Akira ever tell Mia about her plan to kill Caine? Will Mia ever understand Akira's revenge against her father? Will Mia decide to step into the fold of assassins because of Akira? Will Akira leave the High Table to be with Mia like how John did for Helen?

As a conclusion... Gosh, I love my lesbian rarepair too much.

5. Marquis x Wuxia DJ

The funniest and best crack ship ever made up in the John Wick fandom, and there's just the two of us, hahahaha. They give off high-school exes who are so, so fashionable and serve cunt while talking shit about the other behind each other's backs.

It's number five on my list because it's that good.

Honorable mention: Cassian x Gianna

Before the fourth movie is released, Cassian & Gianna is the only pairing I could see happening in the background. Cassian's loyalty to Gianna even after she died is very touching, and Gianna seemed very appreciative of it from the short interaction they have in JW2.

[pearlsofthec]

While not as celebratory as October (MY B-DAY MONTH!) and not yet as festive as December, November is a month that’s always full of promises to me. It’s the month when I usually swear to myself I'll get everything done, so I can try to relax when it's Christmas time. While my productivity levels aren't as consistent as I'd like them to be, my will to be productive certainly is. I'm definitely a list kind of girl, loving making them just as much as I enjoy reading them in magazines and on archive blogs from the 2010s (classygirlswearpearls and rookie magazine, I’m looking at you guys). So what better way to start the month and try to get myself together than by writing a big ole' list? My November Guideline:

To be inspired

On TV: Spencer Hastings, Blair Waldorf, Tanner Hall

I may have only watched a season and a half of Pretty Little Liars, but that absolutely doesn't stop me from loving and pinning essentially every single outfit ever worn by Spencer Hastings on television, EVER. I love the way it's simultaneously classic and dated. I've never been one to fear a dated style or outfits that might one day make me sigh and go, "Oh my God, that was so ten years ago for me." I guess that's my way of contributing to history and experimenting with the millions of inspirations I'm constantly bombarded with via social media. I specifically love this aspect of her style, how she wears what she wants, what she loves, but always communicates a deep appreciation for a more traditional way of dressing. 

A lot of the same things can be said about Blair. Again, a character from a TV series I haven't watched all the way through (I can't make it past the first few episodes of season 3, sorry!), who was a pillar of preppiness back in the day, and is still wildly beloved, despite having committed a few fashion faux pas in my opinion. The craziness of it all and even the grandma-ness of it all actually fascinate me about Blair's wardrobe. How she constantly projects a vision of who she needs to be. Spencer does the same, obviously, but with Blair, it's almost like she viewed every day of her life, every problem she needed to face, as a new plotline of an old movie that needed to unravel. For each plotline, she reacted as a different heroine would, and each heroine, naturally, expressed herself differently through fashion. I just love these characters she creates for herself, and I feel like I often have the same instinct to curate an outfit like that when getting ready.

Tanner Hall, directed by Diane von Fürstenberg's daughter, Tatiana, is in the same aesthetic line as the previous mentions. The movie is set in a quintessential New England boarding school, where beiges, browns, and muted greens seem to be the only existent colors. The whole wardrobe is gorgeous, designed by DVF, and the holy grail for all those who are obsessed with an old-time preppiness. While the movie's plot may be flawed, its attempt to portray the delicious whimsy and melancholy of a girlhood that tries to expand inside the claustrophobic gates of the school is genuine and comes from what, to me, is a mixture of personal history and folklorized memories. I really like the softness of it all; you can almost smell the crisp apple scent through the screen.

On the web: 2010s Emma Watson, Silly Lettuce, Eva Meloche 

I can't really explain my current fixation on Emma Watson, but I have the feeling it has something to do with the fact I've been looping her Burberry campaigns practically every day. The songs are so reminiscent of a carefree city life, going on long taxi drives in the rain and putting your hands over the steam of your coffee on a cold day in the park with your friend, wet fall leaves on the cement sidewalk. I used to admire Emma Watson a lot when I was younger, and it's nice to rediscover this fondness for her. And let's be honest, she is definitely one of the founders of the gamine community; all I have, I owe to her!

Now, my current admiration for @silly_lettuce on Instagram is totally aesthetic, and I'm not afraid to say it. Gorgeous girl, gorgeous outfits, what's not to love. I could go on and on about her style in general, the silhouettes she wears, the boots, the knee-high socks, but instead, I'll just urge you to check out her page! So timeless, yet so young, fun, fresh, and COOL!!!! 

Eva Meloche is a YouTuber I've been watching for as long as I can remember, and not only do I adore the calm energy all of her videos exude, but I also really love her travel stories and spot recommendations in general, which always come in handy. Oh, and, of course, she has impeccable taste. Even though her style is different from mine, I guess I use her content as a way to explore.

To wear 

I think it's totally healthy to have an everlasting lust for new clothes and new products. Maybe it's because the holiday energy is already lingering in the air, or maybe it's because I'm fresh out of a father and daughter trip to Paris, but recently, I've been loving to revisit my old favorites. And by old, I mean back-when-I-was-twelve old, which includes:

Red Valentino patterned A-line dresses

Ok, I know they may be a bit too young, but if you get it, you get it, I guess. With some ballerinas or Mary Jane pumps, a cute overcoat, and a nice pair of sunglasses, you'll look positively '60s. Honestly, any A-line dress works, but RED V makes me remember my trips with my grandparents and going shopping with them.

The Cardi-blazer 

So basic, I know, but I cannot stop thinking about the Ba&Sh Gaspard cardigan and Guspard blazer. I just love how it elevates a basic outfit. With a pair of jeans and a trench coat over it, it has infinite potential. I can definitely see myself wearing it to a lunch with friends, for some afternoon shopping, or just for a coffee run. I love the Ba&Sh cardi-blazers, specifically because of how cool they look without ever being an "in-your-face" type of item. The buttons are nice and discreet, and the style is put together but not excessively frumpy.

Flap Brogue

Maybe it's the Miu Miu enthusiast in me, but ever since they released the new collection of shoes with Church's (my dad's fave), I've been loving all outfits that include a pair of brogues. I already had a pair of light brown oxfords (which are my one true love), but I really wanted something in black and thought that a pair of flap brogues would be a nice addition. They're perfect to wear with sheer hosiery, a mini jean skirt, and a cozy black sweater to tie it all together.

Statement sweater

Talking about sweaters... I just have so many cool statement ones living in my brain recently; it's a bit concerning. What's better than wearing a huge sweater that screams "look at me" when going out with friends or having a nice dinner party? I've been specifically lusting over two models: the Kritzia glittery, oversized turtlenecks with animal motifs and the Zadig and Voltaire Alma "rock and roll" red one.

Statement everyday shoes 

It's so 2016 to talk about Golden Gooses, but... I just love them. I happened to buy them after quite a bit of time resisting after I found myself with soaked ballerinas after a violent rainstorm, soon-to-be late to my lunch reservation. The Golden Goose store was my knight in shining armor, literally, offering me shelter and shoes. And maybe it was the desperation, maybe it was the pink sparkly star, but all I know was that I left that store in a glittery haze, enamored by the sneakers I'd just impulsively bought. No regrets!

To Discover

Maison millais (The Eloise perfume specifically… i need it)

Armocromia

Isak Zenou

Brai (pyjamas)

Louvini

Sekiguchi dolls

[kencoded-kengirl]

ULTIMATE SWIFTIECESSION MASTERPOST

does kendall roy listen to taylor swift? was willa ferreyra actually sighted at the eras tour? why did stewy hosseini post “STREAM SPEAK NOW TAYLOR’S VERSION” on his instagram story last night? these are all questions that have haunted the minds of succession fans since the show’s creation. you might not know who the biggest swiftie in succession is, but that’s okay, because i do. jesse armstrong informed me personally, and i will now relay this vital information to all of you: from most devoted fan to the most casual of listeners, here are the top ten swifties of hbo’s succession.

1. KERRY CASTELLABATE

kerry loves taylor swift and listens to her unironically almost constantly. she thinks that the last great american dynasty was written about her. she abuses taylor swift music in order to romanticize her relationship with logan. she got bangs to be more like taylor. no other deserves the title of most avid swiftie at waystar.

2. SOPHIE ROY

sophie is technically a bigger fan than kerry but she is way less sick in the head about it. she’s just a little girl who loves taylor whose rich deadbeat dad got her eras tour tickets for her birthday because he can’t remember any of her other interests. (rava and iverson roy honorable mentions, they went to the eras tour together.)

3. EBBA

ebba is convinced that taytay wrote would’ve could’ve should’ve specifically about the fact that her ex will not stop sending her frozen bricks of his own blood. sometimes, if you’re hanging out with her, she’ll ask if you want to watch something, and then she’ll put on the all too well ten minute version music video like it’s a movie. feels a sense of devastation over the fact that taylor doesn’t have tour dates in sweden until 2024.

4. NAOMI PIERCE

in season four when kendall said that his relationship with naomi was a “carnival of mindfuck,” he was referring to the fact that they were once texting and he let it slip that he “doesn’t know why taylor keeps rereleasing albums” and that he’s “just going to keep listening to the originals because they’re better,” and then naomi blocked him on everything and they literally haven’t spoken since.

5. WILLA FERREYRA

willa also thinks the last great american dynasty is about her. she listens to taylor’s music religiously but doesn’t actually care about any of the relationship drama or even the politics. she was super excited that taylor was in the cats, though, (it’s her favorite musical) and genuinely defends the movie’s quality.

6. GREGORY HIRSCH

greg is a social swift listener. he definitely likes her music and has playlists, but, frankly, he mainly just likes understanding tiktok discourse. it’s his life goal to get rich enough to run in the same social circles as her, meet her, and live out a taylor swift x yn fanfiction fantasy in real life. also, he is pretty sure the last great american dynasty is about tom. or himself.

7. KARL MULLER

this started as a joke because the old guard have been colleagues and waystar employees for 30+ years and there comes a time when you need to branch out to make your work background playlists nonrepetitive. gerri started putting taylor songs on their playlist mainly because her daughter, peti, said that she should, and karl slowly but surely became a huge fan.

8. STEWY HOSSEINI

make no mistake, stewy does not like taylor swift. he would sooner die than be caught with a taylor song on a playlist he actually listens to. however, if stewy is 1 thing in this life, that thing is a male manipulator. as a result, he has cultivated an extensive swiftie persona complete with favorite songs, albums, and knowledge of discourse, which he uses to pick up swifties at bars. he has 1 taylor swift playlist that he sends to people like “i made this about us 🥺💕” but he actually just renames and reuses it every time he meets someone new. he has cried while listening to folklore once on accident.

9. ROMAN ROY

roman also does not organically listen to taylor swift. he is trying the male manipulator false swiftie strategy as well but he cares less and is exponentially worse at it than stewy, because he has never in his life been attracted to a taylor swift fan. he tried it on tabitha and she earnestly threatened to break up with him if he was a real taylor swift fan. he tried in on gerri when she wasn’t really paying attention and she said, “what is this? i think my daughters listen to this,” which gave roman such a severe ick he never brought it up again. he tried it on matsson as well, but it made him think of ebba and he ghosted roman for a week.

10. SHIV ROY

shiv thinks the last great american dynasty is about her. she’s not necessarily invested but she knows the songs that play on the radio. shiv has actually personally met taylor and they don’t get along. she also actively believes that taylor dating matty healy was worse than taylor’s private jet usage qualifying her as a climate criminal. she has used word-for-word quotes from getaway car while arguing with tom.

DISCLAIMER: this list was not made by a swiftie. if it seems like bullshit, that’s because it is.😄👍

[welcometololaland]

The game where you bold all that apply (and I put unhinged things below).

Thanks for the tag @olinsghost! Sorry I'm so late but thank you for thinking of me, I appreciate it <3

APPEARANCE: i’m under 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

(unhinged notes: ANYONE who has read Love Game aka. the Tennis AU knows how much I love Nike - that's a FACT. Also, I should wear glasses but I don't (don't @ me @rmd-writes), i love oversized t-shirts but ALSO crop tops BUT i'm a tummy hurt girlie so loose clothing is sometimes necessary. i want a tattoo so badly but i'm so indecisive. i never wore my retainer so now i have to get braces AGAIN and sometimes i wear hats backwards but NOT baseball caps purely because i don't have one).

HOBBIES AND TALENTS: i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks (if i can afford it) // i can do a handstand

(unhinged notes 2.0: i love sport and have played like 10 billion of them in my life, i learnt the piano for like 15 years or something stupid but i'm still not that good, i can do a somersault and a handstand because i take acro classes which are SUPER fun and I did a front tuck the other week! i'm flipping!!! fun fact my sister is an amazing singer - i did not get those genes but i like singing to myself in the car and i HATE singing in front of anyone else. could i survive in the wild on my own? fuck off. absolutely not).

RELATIONSHIP: i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friends i have known for (more than) ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

(unhinged notes 3.0: every day i wake up and wonder when my partner is going to be like wtf have a done, but yes, i am in a relationship. i've known two of my best friends since primary school (5 years old). my advice is never good but i give it anyway. i have several online friends and i've now met quite a few of them in real life and i am BLESSED for that!)

AESTHETICS: i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season 🍂

(unhinged notes 4.0: okay hear me out. early autumn is the best season because it is still warm, light (but not too hot) and the leaves are starting to turn pretty colours!!! spring is too rainy imo, summer too hot and winter too cold. the ocean TERRIFIES me but i think that's part of it's allure. i like listening to thunderstorms but i better not be outside when i do).

MISCELLANEOUS: i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend// i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities //i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

(unhinged notes 5.0): LOVE the smell of sharpies. LOVE IT. i am the idiot friend, not the mom friend. one time an ex-boyfriend tried to teach me how to drive stick and i'm pretty sure we broke up 2 weeks later).

tagging the following mutuals but ANYONE feel free to join in! @rmd-writes @clottedcreamfudge @carlos-in-glasses (i love when you do the notes) @heartstringsduet @lightningboltreader @strandnreyes @lutavero @guardian-angle22 @lemonlyman-dotcom @iboatedhere @cha-melodius @treluna4 @celeritas2997 @alrightbuckaroo @alltheprettyplaces @goodways