#idiot title for an idiot writer

[moodandmist]

🏃🏼☀️🐕WIP WEDNESDAY🐕☀️🏃🏼

Hiiii! It's been a long day and I'm exhausted! But I wanted to share something ridiculous with you before I head to bed. I haven't even had a chance to read anyone's shares yet today (or Sunday!! I'm so sorry), but that will be my reward in the morning!

Thank you so much for the tags today and Sunday! Love to you all! Hope you're all feeling good and loved. @fatalfangirl @bookish-bogwitch @whatevertheweather @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @captain-aralias @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @martsonmars @ivelovedhimthroughworse @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @confused-bi-queer @palimpsessed @technetiumai @johnwgrey @dragoneggo @aristocratic-otter @creepyspice @kherub @takitalks

Well, I started a new WIP, as one does. Because I HAD TO. Because something needed to be processed and worked out. 😆

This is *very rough* but it's a quick start. Baz sees Simon running through his neighborhood and forms a healthy lust for this golden, broad-shouldered man, and Simon of course, finds himself lusting after the tall posh bloke out walking his dog that he always passes on his run.

There we go...stick around after the share for a fun little dissection as to why this needed to be written NOW.

Under the cut for some suggestive stuff and length.

*****

BAZ

The first time was in the autumn. 

Lupa was just a puppy and hadn't quite worked out all the ways in which to terrorize me just yet. I watched her loping up and down the embankment to the pond, the cool evening air momentarily warmed by the sun’s last push before its descent. 

And then, there he was. 

Coming toward me, golden curls catching the light. He ran past with a smile and a breathy “Hi”. And, just as quickly, he rounded the curve in the road and was gone. 

I was sure he was an anomaly. Like when some beautiful bit of magic flits in and out of your field of view and you question whether you ever really saw it. Too beautiful. Too alive. A flash of lightning in an otherwise clear sky. A sunspot moving through the leaves. Here, and gone just as quickly.

But several weeks later I saw him again. And then again. Apparently he was made of flesh and blood after all. And what beautiful flesh it was. It's been nearly a year of this torment. Autumns golds and reds lighting him on fire. The cold winter days, making his breath visible to me. Spring petals falling around his shoulders.

And this, all this, would have been bad enough. It was bad enough.

But Summer, that cruel mistress and taunter of the truly thirsty, brought on the heat. I was not prepared to see him running in the height of Summer. Shirtless. Absolutely gleaming with sweat. Broad shoulders. The paintbrush splatter of freckles.

I wanted to chase him down. Pin him against a tree and---once and for all---lick the sweat from his neck. From his chest, his taut stomach. Get on my knees and run my tongue through the light line of hair leading to the band of his shorts. 

Pain blooms in my bottom lip and I realize I've had it in a death grip between my teeth as I watch him go by.

Christ, this is getting bad.

******

Now friends, just for fun, let’s do a little IRL-to-fic pipeline exercise. 

Let’s imagine you are a certain person in possession of a *large* dog of a youngish age. And this dog has recently been showing the troubling behavior of barking aggressively at cyclists and runners.

Now imagine, if you will, the perfect Simon-y man, that has been running by your house for the past year. A man with whom  you shared a smile and hello the very first time he passed you. Now please imagine his broad shoulders and floppy golden hair (a la simon) and perfect pecs and tight stomach which you now know he is in possession of since he has taken up the summer routine of running shirtless, sweaty and absolutely *gleaming* and perfect.

Now, let’s just throw some chaos into this imagined scenario and say that you recently saw this gorgeous Simon runner coming up the road, this gorgeous, gleaming man, and thought to yourself, “well, standing by the road holding your dog still is a very good excuse to make eye contact and say hello”. And so, in a moment of total idiocy and evil plotting, you invite your dog outside with you. 

And friends, this very large, very terrible dog decides to go against script and instead of helping you to peacefully and flirtatiously engage this runner, *immediately* eludes your grasp, in favor of barking and aggressively *chasing* this man as he passes your house, which sets *you* running after the dog, running after this perfect, sweaty, gleaming, shirtless man (who looks understandably terrified) while repeating “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry” as he runs away saying “it’s ok, it’s ok.”

And you watch him go in absolute horror, your idiot dog finally at your side.

What would you do??

Friends, you’d put it in a fic and fix that shit. 

[youchangedmedestiel]

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Words: 4,159

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Season/Series 12, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Getting Together, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, First Kiss, Second Kiss, and then more kisses, Smut, they are so gone for each other, and they obviously look at each other a lot hence the title

Summary:

Team free will is in the car driving back from a hunt when Sam mentions Cassie, Dean's ex from at least 10 years ago. After Cas mistaking it was about him, the conversation evolves into describing how Dean is when he is in love. It all clicks in Sam’s head as he tells Cas how Dean was behaving around Cassie. 10 years replaying in his mind all of a sudden. Cas asks him what he understood and Sam tells him Dean is in love with him. From there, nothing is stopping Cas anymore. This fic was written for the 5K by 5 May event.

[gaydogmarriage]

[go-to-the-mirror]

I fucking HATE mark gatiss and steven moffat, like oh my GOD it's like "ooh wow we're gonna take thsi beloved thing" and we're gonan FUCKIGN RUIN IT fuck moffat's season, fuck every episode gatiss has writen, FUCK THE IDIOT'S LANTERN AJSDNFRVGHEFJVBGRTFED VALL MY HOMIES HATE THE IDIOT'S LANTERN

[mariocki]

Horror icon Ingrid Pitt guest stars as enemy agent Elayna in The Adventurer: Double Exposure (1.20, ITC, 1973)

[aberooski]

Listen I'm not great at coming up with titles for my fics but let me tell you I am good at making the easy but brilliant jokes. First we had Once Upon A Duelist and now possibly the best and easiest joke I've come up with in a long time:

Your Princeton Is In Another Castle

Progress on my Mario crossover is going very well in my brain 🤭

I mean the whole huge plot thing is Chazz and Peach getting captured and being stuck in Bowser's dungeon becoming unlikely besties while Atticus and Alexis traverse the Mushroom Kingdom with Mario and Luigi on an adventure to rescue them and get the shit they need to get our GX kids back home so askksksksk

Like I said, and easy joke but a fucking brilliant one 😭/pos

[ahhhsami]

A Simple Trick for Fic Writers

Hey, if you're a fic writer and a character speaks in a different language, you don't just have to add the translation in the notes. Use the following HTML coding to add 'text on hover' to the word(s). If the reader is on a computer they can hover over the text to see the translation.

<span title="This is the text in the box!">This is the text that shows in your fic!<;/span>

Here are some examples from a fic on my AO3.

This coding here <span title="a fool, idiot (lit. emptyhead)">Eyn utreekov&lt;/span> will show this on hover.

This next example shows that you can add a lot of text. The formatting is the same as above.

PS: When doing this, there may be spacing issues, but you can edit the text through AO3's html or rich text editor. From there you can add italics (like I did), bold, etc, and fix any weird spacing issues. Just be careful not to delete the coding that you worked so hard on 😂

[exploratorysurgery]

chapter 6 babeyyy (sapphic vampire story)

I didn’t realize how much I missed their apartment until I stepped back in there. 

“Hey sluts, I’m home. I brought Flora.” Ramon shouts. I nearly snort when I hear Leonora groan. I assume Leonora has been done with her clownery for years.

Wait. Did she just call me Flora? My very own nickname from the one I love. I’m probably the exact shade as the kool-aid man. Ramon Neri makes my heart hurt. I just love her so much. Everytime I’m with her my heart grows three sizes. The way she loves life is just so contagious. I would sell my soul for her. 

“It’s only fair that I call you me by a nickname too. You can call me Mona.” 

“I,”  Leonora says swaying into the room, “Call her Moan to piss her off.” Ramon sticks her tongue out at them while flipping her off.

They are still glaring at each other when Liliaine heads into the room. He immediately picks up the tension and slaps Ramon on the back of her neck.

“Hey!” They say in perfect unison. Honestly at this point, you could easily convince me that they are twins.

Liliaine just smirks and says “Help our guest, why don’t ya?” Before I could even deny the help, Ramon had already grabbed my bag and my hand. 

She leads me into this large closet. When I say a large closet I mean a tiny ass room with a water bed. There’s a dim light bulb flickering up above the bed. The walls are bare and you can see where screws used to be. But it's home. It’s my home. I think the only time I was this happy was when I met Tré Cool. 

Ramon helps me unpack. I mean, really all we do is tape up my posters. All my clothes are going to stay in the bag. Cause, like, there’s no dresser. It’s a little less depressing once I take my guitar out

She’s mangled but she’s still a beaut. It’s a 50’s stratocaster. I named her Frankie. Anyone could see the poor shape it’s in. There are scratches everywhere and the body’s chipped. I’m pretty sure there is glitter on there, don’t know how but there is. The stickers have been ripped but she holds a lot of memories. Somehow, a goddamn miracle that’s how it's playable. Some of the strings have snapped but the neck is still in one piece. 

Ramon is in awe. She cried out “You have a 50’s stratocaster?! Holy shit, she’s an absolute darling. Can’t say she’s as clean as a whistle though.” Ramon examines the guitar until she sees the large chip missing in the body and the snapped strings. She holds it to her chest protectively and threatens “You don’t deserve it. Look at the poor thing; it has a chip the size of Texas in it!” 

I put my hands up defensively. “In my defense, your honor, it was for the aesthetic.” She glares at me as if I killed her puppy. 

Liliaine waltzes into the room and gasps. If you had no context you would assume that I murdered someone. “The poor child! It looks like someone put it through a meat grinder.” 

Ramon nods aggressively.  “You should’ve seen me after the show. You would wish I had the same treatment as Frankie.”

Once again I realize that probably didn’t help my case, but in fact made it worse. Now they stare at me in horror. I start scratching my neck. I should’ve shut my mouth. Now look at them, they think I’m insane. The only friends you could have had are now lost because you proved to them you have the self preservation as a toddler learning to walk. They now think they have to supervise you. I panic to myself. I’m never going to forget this in a bad way.

But instead of being ridiculed or lectured, Ramon laughs. Her beautiful dorky laugh. She’s the best person in  the world. I love her more than anything. I love her more than Frankie, more than music itself. I love the way her hair always falls perfectly into place. I love how she only wears intense amounts of eyeliner and glitter. I love her. I can’t believe I’ve fallen, it’s only been two days. Yet here we are laughing like we’re high on my makeshift bed. If only I could kiss her. I have a hundred problems but marrying Ramon could solve 73. God, I’m so in love. 

“How good are you?” Liliaine questioned. It wasn’t meant in a degrading way.

“What do you mean by that? Like how would you gauge it?” I ask trying not to sound stupid.

“Like what are you working on or your personal hardest song to play? For example, I’m working on the guitar solo in Master of Puppets and I think my hardest song is,” He takes a second to think. He must be great at guitar. “Aviator of feat.”

“Rad. I’m learning Our Lady of Sorrows and Battery is the hardest I can play.”

“That’s impressive! I tried being a guitarist but I got kicked out because I couldn’t play House of the Rising Sun.” Ramon chimed. I laugh at the thought of her struggling to play one of the easiest riffs. I bet they would find a way to look effortless while failing horribly. “But I can sing.” She continues. 

“Yeah, as good as a three year old in the school choir.” Lilliane retorts.

Ramon, like a child, sticks her tongue out at Liliaine. God I love her. 

“Then you wouldn’t have me as lead” Ramon retorts.

“Are you guys in a band or something?” I ask.

“Yeah, we are actually. We’re called The Famous Living Dead. Yours truly,” Ramon flutters her eyelashes. “Is lead singer, the rat of a sibling is bassist, and Lilliane is, as you know, our guitarist.”

The name sounds familiar. I can’t put a finger on it though. 

“‘Spite the name, we aren't that popular nor dead. Our biggest fans are the drunks who sing incoherently, hoping it sounds like the lyrics.” Liliane snorts.

“When do you play next, I’ll come.” I really want to see Ramon sing. I’ll bet my life on her having a beautiful voice. “Wait, I thought vampires were classified as ‘dead’ or ‘not alive’?” I ask while doing air quotations.

Liliane freezes. Ramon immediately whispers something in his ear. He relaxes a little but not fully. I understand. I know a secret that could ruin his life. 

“We could show you know! I could get us to practice live with you.” Ramon says changing the subject

Liliane whips his head around so fast I think he got whiplash. “What.” He quickly turns to me, ”Give us a second please.” His voice dripped with anger and confusion. Liliane was whisper-yelling at Ramon who just deflected everything with ‘yeah and’. 

Eventually, they settled on fine. Ramon yelled for Leonora to get ready for band practice. Which required a quick recap of what they discussed. 

After what felt like millions of years, they were ready. I felt like bouncing off the walls. I’m so excited. I love concerts. I love the way everyone here understands  you and how you can get lost in the music. You sometimes get live demos or a little story. 

“What should we start with?” Lilliane asks.

Leonora jumps up a little bit and says “Enchantment.”

They all smile and nod. They begin to play, and holy motherfucking shit. They are great. It’s loud, it’s crunchy, it’s fast, and it’s my new favorite band. The song is angry and slutty. It’s an overall mood. As the song ends I find myself yearning for more. I’m pretty sure I’m grinning like an idiot because Ramon looks so happy.  

So they play more and more. By the time they’re too tired to play another song, I have already sworn my devotion to them. The slutty vampire tones absolutely vibe with me. I would kill to be in their band. The music sounded like it was missing a part. Like there was supposed to be another melody. Maybe they lost a member. 

Ramon looked sweaty as hell. She poured every ounce of her soul into that performance. She screamed, danced, and cried all in the span of two hours. Everything was so emotional and I loved it.

 Even when sweaty, Ramon was still stunning. Her hair was perfectly plastered on her face. Her make was glittery and smeared. Ramon was panting and looked halfway to death yet her eyes sparkled like the stars. I love her and I know she doesn’t love me the same. She’s dead, I’m alive.

[theemissuniverse]

FLIRTING WITH LIU KANG AND ONE SIDED FLIRTING WITH SHANG TSUNG MK 1 INTROS WITH FEM READER!

SUMMARY : what the title says. You’re an Earthrealm warrior.

A/N : not gonna lie I’m having writers block so take this lmao

MASTERLIST 1 , MASTERLIST 2

SHANG TSUNG VS (Y/N)

Shang Tsung : Your beauty holds no bounds

(Y/N) : Your ego holds no bounds

(Y/N) : Do Outworlders speak English? I am not interested

Shang Tsung : And yet you’re here…why?

Shang Tsung : Liu Kang cannot give you a what I can give you

(Y/N) : You do know you’re competing against a literal fire God right?

Shang Tsung : Leave that pathetic God and join me

(Y/N) : You literally got deceived by your titan double. I’m good

Shang Tsung : You are far too beautiful to be with a man like Liu Kang

(Y/N) : And my mouth is producing far too much vomit

Shang Tsung : If you don’t become my queen - you will become my enemy

(Y/N) : I already AM your enemy

(Y/N) : If I didn’t want you in the last timeline- what makes you believe I’ll want you in this one?

Shang Tsung : I can be very persuasive

(Y/N) : Of all the people that could be obsessed with me - it had to be a miserable sorcerer

Shang Tsung : You will fall for my advances eventually

(Y/N) : Stay the hell away from Liu Kang

Shang Tsung : I will. Once you join me

Shang Tsung : You were so close for falling for me in the original timeline

(Y/N) : Don’t remind me of how idiotic I used to be

LIU KANG VS (Y/N)

(Y/N) : I don’t think I can take much more of that sorcerers flirting

Liu Kang : I will put an end to it, my love

(Y/N) : So I fall for you in every timeline?

Liu Kang : It just means we are destined to be together

Liu Kang : You are the only woman made for me

(Y/N) : You always know how to make my heart race

(Y/N) : Come on. It’d be new and exciting

Liu Kang : While Temperature play sounds intriguing, I do not want to hurt you

(Y/N) : Shang Tsung seems to think he can have me

Liu Kang : *chuckles* I am the least bit worried of that sorcerer

Liu Kang : You are my one and only, (Y/N)

(Y/N) : As to you, Liu Kang

Liu Kang : Are you ready for your training?

(Y/N) : If it ends up with you on top of me then yeah

Liu Kang : I wish to treat you as my Goddess

(Y/N) : You sure know how to turn a woman on

Liu Kang : Shang Tsung’s flirting has grown drastically eye clawing

(Y/N) : You say that as if he’s been flirting with you. I’m the real victim

(Y/N) : Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?

Liu Kang : Your puns are both cute and insufferable

LIU KANG VS SHANG TSUNG

Shang Tsung : (Y/N) will fall for me eventually

Liu Kang : You are fooling yourself if you believe she would ever want you

Liu Kang : Stay away from, (Y/N)

Shang Tsung : You and I both know that deep down she craves for my darkness

Shang Tsung : I almost had her in the original timeline

Liu Kang : Only because of certain events that had taken its place

Shang Tsung : You call me the villain but you specifically crafted this timeline to make (Y/N) fall in love with you

Liu Kang : I am not capable of that kind of power nor evil. (Y/N) fell in love with me by her own free will as she has done through out other timelines

Shang Tsung : If you want her so bad, why have (Y/N) meet me?

Liu Kang : It was bound to have happen and as I have done every timeline, I gave (Y/N) the choice whether she wanted to be consumed by your greed and darkness

Liu Kang : (Y/N) does not want to be with you, sorcerer

Shang Tsung : If she doesn’t then why does she always end up back to me?

Shang Tsung : (Y/N) will fall for my power eventually

Liu Kang : That very statement proves you do not know her as (Y/N) is not attracted to power and greed

Shang Tsung : If I win, you’ll let me have (Y/N)

Liu Kang : (Y/N) is not a prize to be won

Shang Tsung : Together, me and (Y/N) can rule all realms

Liu Kang : Im sure (Y/N) would be interested in the man that got deceived by his own double

Shang Tsung : I could treat (Y/N) better than you

Liu Kang : Better? You tried to kill her in the original timeline

[wingedhallows]

fic recs; my absolute favorite works

hi there, i decided to put together a list of my absolute favorite fanfics, please check out the writers and their other works! & the list is in no order of liking

to the writers: thank you so much for writing these, i enjoyed each and every one of your fanfics, pls write more, love michelle &lt;3

navigation

angelic by @xreaderbooks (pls, my heart <3)

everything black by @firsttimewriter92 (came back to this one at least twice, girl- so good!!)

i see you by @hermioneshandbag (girl, girl- this was so good)

teaching a moderately old dog new tricks by @spxllcxstxr (got me blushing <3)

cherry bomb by @evanpeterswhoresblog ( chefs kiss, love love loved it <3)

dream guy by @themissingweasley26 (cute, loved it <3)

marrón by @amortentiainmyfirewhiskey (got me feeling like the baddest bitch)

i am half-agony, half hope...i have loved none but you by @sunnami (GIRL girl girl- this- i swear to god, it has me in a chokehold. your brilliant mind <3)

poly!marauders x reader - drunk james & reader by @moonstruckme (there's no title but, this was so cute)

i'll love you 'til the grass around my gravestone is deceased by @mybutcheredtongue (so cute, i love post azkaban sirius, your brilliant mind, god i love this!)

identation in the shape of you by @whorediaries-09 (i love post azkaban sirius & this comforted me so so much, i loved it <3)

i can't lose when i'm with you by @neytirisheaven (so good, i came back several times for this, loved it sooo much <3)

coward by @luv4freddie (girl- so good, i love love loved it <3)

foreign fancy by @princessconsuela120 (got me kicking my feet and smiling, girl-<3)

the american by @justagirlwholikesadam (i love this different take, so good that i came back to it several times, i loooved it <3)

pretty boy by @cloudybarnes (harry fics have a special place in my heart & i looooved this one <3)

revenge is a dish best served cold by @wonderlandwalker (so good, had me on my toes, i looooved it <3)

forget me, not by @folklvrsworld (girl- if u want a good cryin' sesh, read it, it was soo gooood, girl-<3)

come back, be here by @ellecdc (girl, girl, stop what u're doin' & read this, i loved every single word <3)

i am yours by @annabelinlove (i love poly!marauders fics & this one is a pretty good one, read it. now! loved it <3)

sad beginnings by @finelinevogue (wolfstar fics got me feeling some type of way, this is sooo goood <3)

just ours by @0x81 (wolfstar, what else should i say, read it, like yesterday, got me blushing and shit-)

the stash by @thebestofoneshots (if someone knows how to write smut than it's this writer, like how do u write like this- i'm speechless, flabbergasted <3)

divorcing orion black by @kquil (i've never quite read something like this, it's so so so good. pls more<3)

azkaban prison by @justsomerandomfanfic (i'd die for sirius black & this one in particular, more more more pls <3)

heroes in tattoos by @kquil (i'd die to read this for the first time again, like-I'm coming back to this whenever i have a rough day and i love it still, so goood <3)

new romantics by @pretty-little-mind33 (i love me a good james potter fic & this one has my feet kickin' & smilin' like an idiot <3)

injured (hip) by @hollowdeath (i love enimies to lovers & harry so- pls read it, it's great <3)

the one with the blouse by @super-clearlysaltybouquet (oh, how i love angst. i love love love angsty shit & this one was pure gold <3)

love potion and unspoken desires by @cyripticchronicler (amortentia stories are one of my favorites, this was absolutely great, read. it. now!)

[toomuchracket]

if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop. 

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes. 

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

[wellionlybroughtthree]

spilling amaretto 'cause of previous joints - matty healy

[ok so danny writer debut, huh. literally no one asked for it but here we are. huge shoutout to @abouttofillhisshoes for dealing with my countless mental breakdowns and constant useless apologizing, also all credit for the title goes to them as this is actually called "if you like pina colada dadadada getting caught in the rain" in my head, so thank you again <3]

wc: ~5k

cw: poor use of the english language (i tried), unnecessary ramblings about cocktails, there's like a tiny bit of storytelling if you squint but it all just leads to; smut, they shared one drink but they aren't like drunk and it's all consensual ofc, excessive use of the word 'darling', knife play! but for like 15 seconds nothing too crazy, brief mentions of blood, bj, like mild face-fucking??, subby matty but then again not really as i couldn't decide on what i wanted to write, it's all over the place tbh, he begs her to fuck him tho, oh and they do anal (hides in corner) like he sticks a finger up her ass sorry, reader apologises a lot, and that's kinda it i think

here goes nothing

Red neon lights hanging from the ceiling, hardly illuminating the space. The floor is sticky from the drinks people must have spilled during the previous night. Nervous, but excited you make your way to the far back, towards the bar. Checking your phone, you realise you’re 20 minutes early. Probably explains why you can’t find Matty anywhere. Or anyone else for that matter. It’s quiet, almost too quiet and you just stand there, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, not knowing what to do.

The squeak of the bathroom door opening makes you still and your eyes focus on the figure coming towards you. Matty.

His steps radiate confidence, his sharp hand features illuminated by the neon red lights as he reaches you. His broad shoulders are covered by a leather jacket. You gulp. He’s even prettier than you remembered.

Probably because you were fucking hammered last time, idiot.

This is going to be hard, but you try to keep it professional and reach your hand out for him to shake. Matty just laughs and pulls you in for a hug instead. “None of that nonsense, darling. We are all just normal people here, no need for formalities. How’s your day been so far?”

The nerves in your stomach swirl as you see his intoxicating smile break out across his face. That has got to be the most captivating man you’ve ever seen. Scared of him being able to read your thoughts, you look to the ground. 

“It was great, thank you. Sorry for being so early though, traffic is a nightmare at this hour so I-” 

Matty cuts you off with a chuckle. “Punctuality is one of the key features I look for in my employees, you’re fine darling. Don’t stress.” You follow him towards the bar and behind the counter.

“I know this lighting is all cool looking and shit but you might need to shield your eyes for a second.” You stare at him with a questioning look but squint your eyes two seconds later as bright, white lighting fills the space. “House lights, magic. Can’t teach you anything if we can’t see, isn't that right?”

You nod as your eyes adjust to the new brightness. Your eyes immediately fall to the endless amount of liquor bottles under the counter. How are you going to remember all the different kinds and when they’re used? Seems impossible at first sight.

Matty catches your worried expression. “You are going to be fine, I’ll go slow and try to explain everything as simply as possible. Go sit on the counter, I’ll go over the theoretical stuff first, and then we’ll get to mixing and I’ll see if you’re any good, yeah?” He smirks as he gestures to the counter. You hop on, immediately cursing yourself for wearing a skirt. The marble counter feels cold under your thighs and you shiver, crossing your legs.

An hour goes by, as Matty shows you all the different kinds of glasses, telling you when to use each one. Then going over the ridiculous amount of liquor bottles. You have never seen this many different kinds of tequila in your life.

“So if someone just asks for a shot of vodka, for example. Unless they specify which brand they want, you just give them this.” He points to the liquor bottle on the far left. “That’s the house vodka, the cheapest one.” You nod, hoping he doesn’t catch the way you’ve been staring at his lips the entire time. God, he’s making it so hard to concentrate.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to remember everything right away. You won’t be standing here alone for your first couple of shifts anyways. Before we get to the fun part which is making cocktails and possibly getting drunk, I’m going to teach you how to pour.” Matty turns around, gets a bottle of water and replaces the cap with a weird looking one you’ve seen before but don’t know the name of. Then, he reaches behind himself and grabs a small cup that’s kind of shaped like a cone. You fiddle with your hands, not sure what he was expecting you to do, scared of messing it up. Matty notices your nervousness and puts the bottle down.

“You’re alright darling, please stop worrying too much. You’ve done a great job listening to me so far. I'm sure you’ll do great. And even if you mess up the first time, which is likely to happen considering you’ve never done this before, we have at least another 5 hours before opening, so plenty of time to mess up and try again, alright?” He gives you a comforting smile. You sigh in relief. “I just really want this job, you know? I just want to be good for you.”

Matty gives you a look you can’t quite decipher. “Oh I’m sure you’ll be perfect for me, darling.” You visibly swallow, hopping off the counter.

Matty reaches for the water bottle again and begins explaining.

“This is a jigger.” He points to the cone shaped cup. “It is used for measuring ounces of liquor. But using a jigger takes too much time and I’d rather teach you how to count your pours so you don’t have to use that thing alright?” You nod and watch intently as Matty gets another cup from behind him. He counts to four and pours the water into the cup, then sets it on the counter beside him. “Every bartender has a different count system, I suppose. But the easiest way is counting to four for one ounce, so you can count to one for a quarter of an ounce and so on.” He gets the cup and pours the water into the jigger. It hits the one ounce mark perfectly. “See? And now you do it.”

He takes a step towards you and hands you the water bottle. It’s the first time that day you properly take in his intoxicating smell. Which is mostly cigarettes to be fair, but also something uniquely Matty. Your head spins as you take the water bottle from his hands, brushing his calloused fingertips slightly.

You stand up straighter, wanting to appear more confident than you are. Closing your eyes to avoid Matty’s piercing stare, you start pouring into the cup.

1, 2, 3, 4…

“Can I just do it again? I think I overpoured I’m sorry I’ll try again-” You go on to spill the water into the sink but Matty catches your wrist quickly. Your breathing hitches and you hope he doesn’t notice so you quickly look to the ground. “For fucks sake. Stop being so-" He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead releasing your wrist from his grip, throwing his head back and running his hands through his curly hair.

Great, now he’s annoyed.

“Look, the pour looked near perfect actually. Stop doubting yourself too much, okay?” He grabs the jigger and pours the water in it. One ounce. You hit the mark perfectly. Holy shit.

You try to suppress your proud grin, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“None of that, darling. Look you smashed that, okay? Be proud of yourself.” Matty smiles and rubs your arm. “I honestly thought we would be here for half an hour at least, you should’ve seen some of my other employees on their first day. No one could get it right the first try. I guess you’re just a natural.”

Not knowing how to deal with the compliment you wave your hand awkwardly. “Oh, I’m sure it was just good luck.” Matty sighs dramatically and shoves you backwards. Stumbling backwards, your back hits the counter. You giggle and cross your arms. “Hey, what was that for? Way to treat your future employees.” Matty rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Shut up.”

Mixing cocktails is really fun, you realise. You are also having a way less hard time remembering all the different kinds of liquors than you thought. You really hope Matty thinks you’re good enough. Because you want to get the job, of course. No other reason. Not because the way he’s staring at you is making your head spin. Not because his praise is making your stomach turn. Not because staring at his hands is making you think about how they would feel on your skin. Not because staring at his lips is making you think about how they would feel against your own. You want to be good for him. Because you want to get the job.

You snap out of your thoughts as Matty asks you a question. “Do you want to take a sip of the martini? You did a good job, tastes perfect.” He takes another large sip and hands you the glass. You look at him unsure. “Are you sure? We aren’t done yet, are we?” Despite knowing this is probably not a good idea, you take the glass from his hands. Maybe this will help you loosen up and be less self conscious. Or maybe it’ll make your brain go mush and act stupid. Taken the fact that you've never had a martini before, you don’t actually know how strong it is. Tilting your head, you gulp the rest of the drink back in one hit, cringing at the fire that coats your throat from it.

Fuck, that’s strong.

You cough slightly, as you feel the warmth spreading across your body. From the alcohol, but also from Matty watching you intently. He must be thinking you’ve never had a drink in your life. This is embarrassing.

You squeeze your eyes closed, waiting for the burning in your throat to die down.

“You alright, darling?” Matty asks with a concerned expression on his face. Your face grows red in embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s fine I think. I’ve just never had something with gin before. That was stronger than I expected, sorry. ‘S all good though. I think I can continue without tripping over my feet and embarrassing myself in front of you.” You try and joke, hoping Matty will let it go and just continue talking cocktails to you.

“Alright then, let’s just continue with-” Matty’s eyes search for a specific bottle and finally reaches for a Bacardi Carta Blanca. “This one. We haven’t done white rum yet.”

“Mojito is done with white rum, isn’t it?” Mojito is your best friend’s favourite, you hope you didn’t get it confused and say something incredibly stupid but Matty’s eyes light up. Thank God. “That’s right, darling. Mojito consists of white rum, soda, mint leaves, a lime, and brown sugar. Most people use simple syrup to substitute the brown sugar because it blends into the drink more nicely, but I prefer to do it the old fashioned way. Tastes better, too.” Matty points to a big drawer behind me. “There’s our fridge, it has all the fresh ingredients, like fruits and all that. If you could just get me a lime, please?”

You nod and turn around. You silently thank the alcohol for your new found confidence, as you bend over, purposefully hiking your skirt up a little in the process. You hope he notices, judging by his coughing while you take longer than needed to search for a lime, he definitely did notice. Grabbing the lime, you turn around and shoot him an innocent smile. “This one good enough?”

Matty’s eyes narrow as you place the lime on the counter. He coughs again and then nods. “Yeah, that one will do. Let me get you a knife, hold on.” He rummages in one of the drawers and goes to stand next to you, handing you a small knife. “Cut it up into six equal parts and then put them in a glass with the mint leaves and brown sugar, go on.” He instructs. You cut the lime in half, letting out a sharp breath. You aren’t really able to concentrate with him standing so close to you. His smell occupies your nostrils and his- “Woah there, easy with the knife, darling.” Matty chuckles as you almost cut yourself, too lost in your thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You giggle. Matty doesn’t respond right away so you turn around. The look on his face is one you can’t quite read. It’s calm, but there’s something else and it’s making your stomach turn. He raises his left eyebrow.

“Scare me?” He echoes, picking up the knife and bringing it between us. You grow nervous, not being able to grasp what’s going on. Is he mad? “Uhm, look I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t know why I said that I’m sorry, let’s just get back to-” Matty cutts you off as he reaches for your hand and places the knife into it. You know you should be scared shitless at this point, but you’re beyond excited, if anything.

“You think you can scare me? Go on, then.” Matty gives you a challenging look. You don’t respond straight away, not knowing what to do. Running away seems like the best option at this point, but you don’t trust your body at this state. Your legs feel like jelly, so realistically you’d just fall over and embarrass yourself even more. Your heart rate accelerates as Matty puts his hand on top of yours, bringing the knife up to his throat, moving the blade to press right under his jaw.

“Do I look scared yet, darling?” You gulp, now feeling like you’re definitely going to pass out any second. Holy fuck. The words are stuck in your throat, not being able to process what you’re seeing, let alone the feelings it’s eliciting in you. To think about the fact that an hour ago you couldn’t even look this man in the eyes and now you’re holding a knife to his throat and enjoying it? Talk about character development. Matty moves his face closer to yours, applying more pressure to the blade. It sends your body into a nervous shock, silently thankful he has a hold of your hand because you wouldn’t trust yourself to do something like that sober, let alone when you’ve had a drink.

“And now, do I look scared yet?” You shake your head, staring at the blade against his neck and then his eyes. “No, just a little mentally unstable and like you’re lowkey enjoying it, if I’m honest.” 

Matty lets out a small laugh. “Because I am.” He keeps the hold around your hand and starts to trace the knife down his throat, between his collar bones. “Are you?”

Are you enjoying it? You know you shouldn’t, that’s for sure. You want this job after all, and if you keep going any further, that’s going to be off the table 100%. But you can’t deny the warm rush this entire situation sends through your body. You feel like your legs are going to give out. In the best way possible. Is it the alcohol? Who knew you would enjoy holding a knife to someone’s throat. Might as well buy a straight jacket at this point.

Matty’s eyes stay trained on yours as he waits for an answer. You look down in slight embarrassment and exhale a small “yes.”

Matty’s body flinches as he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and cusses a “shit” under his breath. Your eyes shoot up to his neck, seeing he’s accidentally pressed the blade down too hard and cut himself. You immediately pull the knife back, panicking. “Holy shit…Matty you alright? See, I knew this wasn’t going to be a good idea. All I wanted was this job and now I’ve cut my potential future boss in the neck, holy shit. I am so sorry, I should be leaving, see? This is why you don’t drink and play with sharp objects.”

Matty looks at you with a smirk. “Please stop panicking, darling. I’m totally fine.” You look at him confused, you have just injured your potential future boss, how can he be so calm? You were expecting him to yell at you, at least. Your body freezes as he brings your hand holding the knife back to his face, moving it up to his mouth. Slipping his tongue out to slowly lick up the flat side of the now bloodied blade, he gives you a challenging look. “See? I’m just fine, darling.”

There is a devious spark in his eyes, and it makes you clench your thighs together involuntarily. You’re glad he’s fine because you sure as hell aren’t after seeing that.

You don’t trust your voice so you just stare at him, not saying anything. He takes the knife from your grip and places it on the counter behind you.

Something about the energy in the air between you feels deranged and unhinged, but in an exciting way.

Matty takes your hand, asking you if you’re okay. “We can just, you know, forget that shit happened, I get that that’s not what you signed up for, darling. Just, get back to making cocktails, alright?” You’re not sure what comes over you but you feel like a switch in your brain flips and you dip your fingers into the top of his jeans to tug him in towards you by his belt, holding the back of his neck and crashing your mouth against his.

Matty, though a bit taken aback by your sudden action, matches the heated kiss immediately. He shrugs off his leather jacket, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. Pinning you against the counter with his hips, his centre is rocking against you and you realise how hard he is. Holy shit.

A deep moan travels up Matty’s throat as you drag your nails down his back which makes him thrust harder. This feels so familiar, yet so foreign, like you’re embracing a sinful part of yourself you haven’t discovered up until now. Matty tears away from the kiss, searching your eyes for permission. Too far gone, you’d let him do anything to you at this point so you nod, giving him a small smile. Matty tugs you forward and spins you around so your body is bent across the counter. You suck in a sharp breath, the sudden movement and the cold marble counter against your body making your head spin.

Matty’s fingers are rough with hoisting up your skirt to your waist. “This what you wanted isn’t that right, darling? Wearing that skimpy skirt and purposefully bending over so I could almost see your underwear? Staring at my fingers the entire time when all I wanted was to explain cocktails to you. Filthy girl, playing all innocent. You wanted to be good for me? Now’s the time, darling.”

You clench your thighs involuntarily at his words. Matty pulls down your black lace underwear, tossing it somewhere behind him. Your body jolts when his hand cracks down hard against the skin of your behind. Barely giving you any time to react, he laces his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back. You moan quietly at the sharp pain on your scalp.

“Get on your knees for me, come on. Let me ruin that pretty lipstick.”

Excitement fires through your nerves, and you oblige, slowly turning around and lowering yourself down, the cold tiles hard against your knees. Once you’re settled somewhat comfortably on the ground you stare up at him with innocent eyes, waiting for his instructions. Matty goes to unbuckle his belt, his biceps flexing in the process. Your eyes can’t decide where they want to look, flicking between his face and watching his hand tug his boxers down enough to release himself, wrapping his fingers around his solid length with a sigh. He teases his tip against your lower lip.

“Open up, darling.” Considering your previous makeout session and the way half of your lipstick is already smeared on his mouth, you’re sure it’s already ruined. You part your lips, letting your tongue slip out to tease him, tasting the precome and Matty nudges his hips forward to push into your mouth. As soon as your lips envelop him his brows furrow and he tilts his head back. “Fuck, that’s right darling. You’re doing so well for me.” Squirming at the praise, you’re eager to take more of him.

He starts to slowly pull his hips back, pushing forward again and then steadily thrusting as you suction your mouth around him. Taking in the sight above you, the way his muscles tense under his tattoo covered skin with his heavy breaths, the way his face is screwed up in pleasure and his hair falling into his face when his head drops forward. His fingers tighten in the back of your hair as he picks up his rhythm.

“Pinch me if it gets too much, okay?” He grunts, pushing his fingers through his damp hair, to get it away from his forehead. You nod as best as you can, pushing forward to let him brush against the back of your throat as saliva coats his skin and drips down your chin.

He picks up a fast, more forceful pace as you try and concentrate on relaxing your throat and breathing through your nose. Feeling him push further back with each thrust until he pushes all the way forward so your nose brushes against the hair of his groin.

It makes you gag around him, and Matty snaps a loud “fucking hell, darling.” before smacking his hand against the counter behind you to hold himself up. Your throat tightens around him and he whines at the feeling, snapping his hips back as he pulls from your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva dripping down your chin. His wrist wraps tightly around his base as he twitches in his hand and his eyes clamp shut as he chants a quiet “fuck, fuck, fuck” under his breath.

You can feel the intense need exploding from him, all of his movements are manic and rushed. Matty pulls you up to stand, kissing you harder and more frantically than before, only stopping to sit down on a barstool, pulling you on top of him. He stares up at you, and lets his hand slip between you to drag his fingers through your dripping core. You squirm against his fingers, feeling that throbbing pulse between your legs along with a tight pressure in your lower half.

“Shit, I nearly came in your mouth just then. Could barely stop it.” Matty says out of breath. “But I don’t want that. Not when you’re so fucking wet, I want it wrapped around me. Want you to fuck me, feel you when you come.” He is rambling, sounding out of his mind, pulling you closer so your centre is pressed against his and he grinds you against him.

A strained whimper tumbles out of him and his demeanour completely flipped as he basically begs. “Please, darling. Fuck me, ride me- anything. I wanna feel you around me so fucking bad.” You take a second to adjust to his mood swing, but then you cup his jaw with your hands. “You want me to fuck you?” Matty nods quickly and thrusts his hips up against you. You lift yourself up and wrap your hand around him to line him up with your entrance, only sinking down onto his tip and then pause.

Matty shifts under you, whining a pathetic sound as you watch his flushed face intently, raising an eyebrow at him. “Please,” he pants, sounding borderline in pain at this point. “Fuck me, I need you so bad, darling fucking hell, please-” You interrupt his pleads by pushing yourself down, feeling him stretch and fill you as Matty curses a loud “holy shit”, throwing his head back while you moan at the feeling.

The second you’re sunk onto him completely his hand finds your behind, urging you to move. Both of your skin is slick and wet, feeling like you’re running a fever as the air is burning hot and you continue to move your hips. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet, look at you already making a mess.” he grits, looking down in disbelief between us as his chest heaves, “you feel so fucking good around me, all I could fucking think about since the moment I’ve seen you, shit.”

He isn’t lying, you can feel the dampness on the inside of your thighs, feeling how easily he slips inside you and it’s only amplifying how amazing it feels. You continue fucking him, letting your hips slam down against him and listen to the symphony of pornographic sounds leaving him, which is only riling you up more. You swear you could come just from listening to him in pleasure.

“Can I try something, darling?” He pants, both looking and sounding delirious. You let your hips circle against him, feeling him hit spots that have your back arching. “What?”

“Can I fuck you with my finger here?” He asks, giving your behind a firm squeeze. “Just one finger. I’ll be gentle. Can I do that while you ride my cock?” It doesn’t register right away what he’s asking, but then you realise and pause. “There?”

Matty captures your mouth in a kiss, then teases his tongue over your lower lip. “If you don't want to, we won't. And if you don’t like it, I’ll stop. It helps if you’re very turned on, trying it. If you like it, I promise, I’ll have your whole body shaking.” You think over the idea in your head, expecting to be grossed out or intimidated. You have known this man for 3 hours max, after all. But it’s only intriguing you.

“Okay, I wanna try.” You agree, still rocking against him, finding it hard to sit still with this unbearable pleasure in your lower stomach. Matty raises his eyebrows like he didn’t expect your answer to be so quick or casual, but then his lips form a slow smile and then presses another kiss to your lips. “That’s my filthy girl.”

He moves his hand up and your heartbeat accelerates when you watch him spit on his pointer and middle finger. He watches for your reaction as he moves his hand around and you feel his finger slip between your cheeks to your tightest entrance, spreading around his saliva that mixes with the arousal that had dripped back there from your centre. “Because you’ve gone and made such a fucking mess everywhere, that helps too.” He adds, keeping his eyes on yours and you gasp as you feel him press his ring and middle finger against your hole.

“Keep moving, darling. Come on, keep fucking me, focus on that. Can you feel how fucking rock hard I am, all because of you?” He asks, circling his finger against you but not going any further. You nod, trying to follow what he says and focus on that as you rock against him.

His other hand holds your hip, starting to guide your movements and even though it’s obvious he’s struggling to compose himself and dying to finish, he doesn’t rush.

You feel him inch his finger forward, only pushing his fingertip into your rear entrance and aside from feeling a bit strange and tight, it’s not uncomfortable. He doesn’t go further, but continues to guide your hips to start pulling yourself up and sink back down onto him, coaxing me. “Keep going, go on. I can’t fucking wait to feel you come around me.”

As your body moves, and you keep that pace, gradually his finger starts to inch in bit by bit in movement with your own body, not forcing it in at all and you let out a surprised moan when you adjust to it. His finger is sunk into the second knuckle, applying pressure to spots you didn’t even know existed. Matty’s mouth is grazing against yours, whimpering when he feels your tightness around him as you move. “How are you feeling, baby? Does that feel good, yeah?” He grunts, starting to thrust his hips up to match your movements. “You wanna keep going?”

“It’s-” You gasp and another moan rips out of you as he massages his finger inside of you, and you start to bounce faster, holding on tight to his shoulders. “It’s like- Fuck it feels really good.” You can hear the surprise in your voice and Matty smiles to himself. He removes one of your hands from his shoulders to press your fingers against your clit. His mouth goes to rest near your ear, with his voice strained “You’re being so good for me darling, look at you taking my cock and my finger. Now touch yourself, come all over me. Please, darling.”

You start to circle your fingers against your clit, feeling your body shudder from how sensitive you are. Matty helps pick up your rhythm with his hold on your ass, guiding you up and down as his finger continues to fuck into you and he thrusts his hips up faster. This almost feels too overwhelming, like your body can’t handle all these sensations at once and you fall forward, burying your face against his neck. 

You cry out as Matty snaps his hips up harder each time you sink down onto him, and when his finger inside of you hits that certain place, at the same time he thrusts into you, you move your fingers faster against your nerves and you feel that knot in your lower half explode. “Matty, I- what the- oh my fucking god, sorry” You nearly shriek, unable to control the volume of your voice and your whole body starts to tremble as you are sucker punched with bliss through every nerve. As soon as Matty feels your pulse around him, he slams you down against him with a loud whine. “Fuck- I’m fuck, fuck” Both of your bodies writhe against each other, hot and covered in sweat and Matty threads his fingers into your hair to pull your head up and connect your mouths. 

The kiss is almost pointless, both of your mouths hanging open and moaning helplessly as you ride out the tsunami type orgasms that are wrecking the both of you, Matty’s legs shake as he grunts with each release as he spills into you.

You end up slumped against him, barely able to breathe and Matty wraps his arm around your back, keeping you hugged against him. You’re honestly shocked you didn’t instantly pass out and fall asleep. Matty slips his finger from you and nudges his nose against your cheek. “You alive, darling?”

“Barely.” You mumble, feeling like you don’t even know what fucking year it is.

You feel Matty smile when his cheek rests against yours and he laughs under his breath.

“You’re hired, by the way.”

[lostfirefly]

I need you here till the very end, so stay here with me

Hey, hey, guys! Sorry, I decided to take a short break and was finishing up the last things at work. A short and sweet fic. I'm sure many writers have had this kind of story, but I wanted to dedicate this fluffiness to you, my reader :) Pain leads me to art :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and Fem.Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Buggy had a hard day. You comb his hair and wash off his makeup.

WC: 1501

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “My Escape” by Ravenscode.

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✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were sitting on the bed with a book when you heard the door to the cabin open with a creak and the sound of heavy footsteps reached you. A couple of minutes later, there was a heavy sigh.

“My love, is that you?” You asked, getting out of bed.

In response, you heard another sigh. You followed the sounds and saw Buggy standing with his back pressed against the door, his eyes closed.

“Good evening, Captain!” You smiled and grabbed his hand.

“Uh-huh.” He muttered without opening his eyes.

“Hard day?” You asked softly.

“Uh-huh.”

You silently pulled his hand towards the bedroom. Buggy tried to resist (but you knew perfectly well that he was faking), but in the end he trailed after you. You took off his coat and hung it on the chair. You took his hand again and sat him down on the bed.

“Love of my life, do you want anything?” You asked, taking off his captain's hat and bandana.

“Drink up.” He answered dryly. “Sometimes it seems to me that this is not a crew, this’s a bunch of idiots.”

“Do not say that.” You kissed the top of his head and walked towards the small bar. “What happened?”

“Everyone is poorly performing their duties, Y/N. That's what happened.” He barked. 

“I'm sure everything will be fine, Buggy. You are the heart of this beautiful ship, and you couldn't have it any other way.” You twisted the bottles slightly, choosing which one could lift his mood today. “Oh, this will be good!”

You picked up a large bottle of rum that you had recently bought especially for him when the ship docked on the island for a couple of days to replenish supplies. “I can't find a glass for rum. Can I pour it into a glass for whiskey or beer?” You looked over your shoulder at him.

“My jelly bean, did you hear what I said? A bunch of idiots. The glass won’t help me. Bring the whole bottle.” Buggy placed his hands on his knees and rested his face in his hands.

“Wow, you're clearly very upset today. Ok.” You took the bottle and walked back to the bed. “Here you go, old grump.” You handed him it.

Buggy raised his head. “I'm not old!” He reached out, took the rum and sipped from the neck of the bottle. “That's better now. Thank you!”

He took your hand and pulled you onto his lap. “Well, what have you been doing all day, Y/N?” Buggy wrapped one hand around your waist. 

“Oh, I read the book, tidied up a little and mended your socks.” You started stroking his cheek. 

“Socks?” He took a sip of rum, looked at you and began stroking your back with his hand.

“Your socks are all full of holes, Buggy. A ship's captain shouldn't wear socks with holes.” You kissed his cheek and stroked his hair. “I'd like to comb you. Your hair is tangled.” You whispered.

“Nah, I'm fine, my gumdrop.” He took another sip and pecked your lips.

“God! At least wipe your mouth after drinking rum before you kiss me, Buggy.” You laughed and wiped your lips with your palm. “How can you drink this shit?” You stroked his hair again. “No, I’ll comb you. It’s impossible.” You got up from his lap and was about to go to the night table to get a comb when you felt him dragging you back.

“Get your ass back to where it was a second ago. I'm fine!” He pulled you towards him.

“A couple more days and you’ll be like a stray kitten, covered in tangles.” You pulled your hand away and went for a comb.

“Kittens are usually adorable.” He answered laughing.

“I’ll comb you, period. What if you decided to take over the island tomorrow? Will you run around scaring the residents in holey socks and with mats on your head? Sorry, honey, but that’s not how I imagine a scary captain.” You returned and sat behind him on the bed. “Sit still.”

“Oh my god. Why do you like brushing me so much, Y/N?” Buggy rolled his eyes, trying to remove your hands from his head.

“You'll be surprised, but I love your hair as much as I love you. Sit still!” You began to carefully run the comb through his long blue hair, listening to his endless grumbling. You took small strands of hair in your hands, trying to unravel the tangles as gently as possible.

“Ouch, it hurts!” Buggy grumbled when he felt the comb get stuck on one of the tangles.

“Sorry, my love. This is a real tumbleweed here. You know, I think I'll do this every evening. You can resist as much as you like, but you won’t convince me.” You ran the comb through your hair two more times. “Here! I did it! You’re grumbling at me in vain.”

Gently running your hands through his hair, you felt him instinctively adapt to your movements.

“You like this?” You asked, pecking him on the cheek again. There was no answer, but you noticed a slight smile on his face. “I knew it!”

You continued to comb his hair, listening to his quiet snoring. It seemed that he had fallen into a light nirvana.

“Well, I'm done.” You ran your fingers through his long hair. “Excellent!” You looked over his shoulder and looked at his face. Buggy sat with his eyes closed with a smile on his face. You gently ran your fingertip across his cheek. “I think now I need to take off your makeup.”

Buggy suddenly opened his eyes and looked at you with his green eyes. “Y/N! No!”

“Yes!”

“I said no!”

“Stop arguing with me. You haven't taken off your makeup for three days. You just put on new makeup every morning on top of the old one. No! Today, I'm declaring a spa day for Captain Buggy.” You crawled on your knees to the bedside table and pulled out a huge bag with various tonics from the drawer. “Holy God! So many things.” You were sorting through the bottles. “Oh. This one with chamomile will be good!” You rose from the bed and stood in front of him, applying lotion to a cotton pad.

“No, jelly bean, please!” Buggy looked at you with pleading eyes. 

“Nah, I'm not listening to you.” You gently took his chin with your hand and pecked him on the lips. “Don’t be afraid, my love. I won’t tell anyone that I see you without makeup.”

Buggy sighed sadly, realizing that he could not win in this verbal struggle, and closed his eyes. You pecked him on the lips again, on his red nose, and ran the cotton pad over his face.

“See how great you are.” You soaked a new cotton pad in lotion and gently ran it over his cheeks again, washing away the blue and white layers of his makeup. “Okay. Now the lips.”

“I know another way we can get rid of my lipstick. If you know what I mean.” He chuckled idiotically without opening his eyes.

“I understand perfectly what you mean. I washed this method of yours from myself in the shower yesterday.” You took out a new lotion from your makeup bag. “Sit still, Buggy.”

You ran the pad over his lips, also removing the red marks of lipstick around his mouth. “And here you are, my love!” You carefully examined his face. “You are so handsome.” You put the discs and lotions aside.

Buggy blushed the color of his nose. “Don’t say that. I'm not handsome.”

“I’m telling the truth.” You sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Have I ever lied to you? No! I think you're handsome from the moment we first met. Remember? You stood up for me at the bar when some fat slug was hitting on me. And you came up and punched him in the face.” You kissed his cheek. 

“Because no one dares to molest my woman!” Buggy kissed you in your lips. 

“To my woman.” You chuckled. “We hadn't even met at that moment.”

“What difference does it make?” Buggy shrugged his shoulders. “I immediately decided that you would be mine. This is the captain’s word and I never break it.”

You gazed into his eyes, stroking his hair. “I love you.”

“Well, what can I say? I love you too.”

“Will you always love me?” You narrowed your eyes playfully. 

“Of course always. The captain's word.” Buggy kissed your neck and then your lips. “And since you bullied me today, it's time to pay back.” He abruptly threw you onto the bed and lay down on top of you. “Gotcha!” 

“Wait! I thought we were gonna take a shower!” You wrapped your arms and legs around him. 

“The shower will wait.” He smiled mysteriously and began to run his finger along your neck.

“Oh, shit! Buggy!!!”

[zahri-melitor]

I think there’s a discussion to be had about how the lack of current consistent character bibles affects comics in terms of characterisation.

Because I think there actually is a lot more consistent characterisation than people sometimes want to realise when they’re complaining about appearances being out of character. There tends to be a background set of character notes writers who DON'T follow a character obsessively know about them when writing them, and they're often based in their early or most prominent stories. Even if people are willing to look, they’re mostly going to dip in to a couple of recced stories to refresh their memory of what their characterisation is like. Which is part of why character growth has trouble sticking (if what a less-frequent writer is referencing is not the most recent run) but also is frustrating when you're having the 'is this in character' debate because if 8 writers over 10 years all pull this trait out and use it again, there's a level of consistency that's hard to overlook, even if the main writer for the character isn't using it anymore.

It’s particularly noticeable in characterisations in crossovers and events. Because when a writer is juggling half a dozen characters they don’t usually write, they’re going to draw on their memories rather than do deep dive reads for the ones they’re less familiar with. So you get the ‘everyone knows’ character traits and beats.

And this leads to people who love a character vs people who are fine about the character but don't specifically read their runs having differing views on their personalities if these things clash.

Let’s use Damian for an example, because it’s really really obvious by comparing what I’m reading at the moment: Batman & Robin Eternal, Robin War, and Robin: Son of Batman. Two events (one with a crossover issue) and his main title in 2015.

Because if you only encounter Damian in crossovers and events, Damian being a little turd who uses insulting nicknames and proclaims his superiority to everyone is…a lot of what you’ve seen in previous crossovers and events. And he’s doing it again in Robin War and Batman & Robin Eternal. Now there are specifically different beats to this – Damian’s fully ready to sacrifice himself for Dick when he realises Dick’s in trouble. But he’s using frankly derogatory nicknames to Jason and Tim and insulting their abilities, and is even nastier to the We Are Robin kids. And he shows up in Eternal and out of the gate tells everyone they’ve been an idiot.

While if you’re a Damian fan reading his own titles, some of this characterisation rings as backsliding, as he doesn’t really use nicknames anymore in his own titles and has been soul searching about his own past and actions, so it’s not congruent with what you expect to see him doing.

Because if you're fully enmeshed in a character's lore and all their appearances, you obviously centre their protagonist stories and discount the crossover appearances that don't match. But if people only read those crossover appearances… that’s the character they know. And see. And it’s pretty consistent BETWEEN those appearances, so telling those people they’re wrong about a character they’ve encountered in multiple storylines is only going to get backs up on both sides. When actually these are two different completely valid views on a character, sourced from comics. It’s just that those personalities are particularly out of sync between “how they appear as a protagonist/regular” and “how they appear as a side character”.

And that can be incredibly frustrating to hear, when that’s your blorbo. But also, people who are treating repeated characterisation they encounter with a character over many years, across many titles and writers as ‘this is who the character is’ are not deliberately out to be mean to your blorbo. That’s the character they know!

And I think we should all think about that a bit more and take a deep breath.

[siampie]

Risk and Reward||Chapter 1: When I Met You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: You have a hard time settling into your new life but with new acquaintances and newfound friendships. You slowly find your footing.

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains smut (not sure, don’t know how to write it but I’ll try), angst, fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood trauma

A/N: So, this is a first for me. Please be indulgent. I am no stranger to writing fiction. I’ve done it before just not on this platform. Also, this is my first time writing in 2nd POV and for Matt Murdock. There isn’t much of him in this chapter but I hope the small bits I have is as close as it is to his character. I did what I always do before writing fiction, read other writers' work and see how they capture the character and watched videos or episodes to get a good feel of the character. So, I hope you will like it. Feedback is welcome. And just enjoy! Also English is not my first language.

Chapter List || Next Chapter

Masterlist || Join my tag list

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

You gave me a reason for my being

And I love what I’m feelin’

You gave me a meaning to my life

Yes, I’ve gone beyond existing

And it all began when I met you

“Another day, another week.” You whispered to yourself as you stepped in the building where you work. You smiled quickly at the receptionist before making your way to the elevator. After you made the big move across the states, you were lucky to land a job as a proofreader in a publishing house. It wasn’t your dream job but it was the next best thing.

For as far as you can remember, you have always been taking care of your family. Many expectations and responsibilities were put on your shoulders from a very young age. So, when your brother stepped in and decided to move your father in with him, you felt some relief. A load was being taken off of your shoulders. You loved your family. But over the years, you had started to resent them slightly. You resented your father for being sick. You resented him for taking out his bad moods on you. You resented your siblings because they get to live their lives. You resented them for leaving you behind in the dust. You knew you loved them but you resented them. And you didn’t want to hate them. So, you left.

You made the move to Hell’s Kitchen, six months ago and you had big plans. First of which, was to properly kickstart your life. You didn’t think it would be easy. You knew it would have been a challenge but you didn’t think it would be that hard. After six months, you thought you would have made some friends or at least some acquaintances. But shy as you were, and as cautious as you were, making friends did not come easy for you.

You dropped your bag on the ground next to your chair. And dropped your coat on the back of it. Your desk was already stacked with manuscripts that needed to be proofread. You always started your day the same, first you read your emails and answered the most important ones. Then came coffee and then came reading with a red pen. You were to review any typos that may have somehow slipped past the author and the copy editor. You were also to review for issues like kerning and stacking and whether the running head is consistent. Proofreading was the last step before publication. You knew it was an important step, so you did it thoroughly. And you did it well. At least, you thought you did. Your boss had not complained about your work so far. And you took it as a good sign.

One of your coworkers stopped by your desk and softly called your name. You looked up at her. You knew her, you had barely interacted with her a few days before. She had long, red hair, that you loved, and legs for days. Her name was Amelia. A few nights ago, as you were leaving after workhours, she was standing outside of the building. A cigarette between her lips as she was looking for something.

“Excuse me?” She stopped you. You turned to her. “Do you have a lighter?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly. Your best friend from high school, had convinced you to buy a pack of lighter once. Telling you that it was the best way to meet people and to make friends. More precisely to meet your future boyfriend. “There you go.” You handed her the lighter.

“Thanks.” She lit her cigarette before giving it back to you. She took a long drag at it. The tension in her shoulders dropped. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at her and turned to leave.

“You’re that new proofreader, aren’t you?” She asked you.

“Yeah.” And you gave her your name.

“That’s a pretty name.” She remarked. “I’m Amelia.”

“Nice to meet you.” Amelia was not a proofreader. She was an acquisitions editor. The one, literary agents would come to, to sell a book. The book landed in her hands first, and if they made it past her, they landed in yours last.

You stayed with her long after she finished her cigarette. You walked with her because it was dark out. And Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t the safest place to be after dark. And there was strength in numbers. Coincidentally, your flat and hers weren’t that far apart. So, you walked her home before going to yours.

After that, you had not seen or heard much of Amelia. You thought that was it. But there she was, talking to you.

“So, some of us are going to grab a drink after work and I thought that maybe you would love to join us?” She sat on your desk.

“It’s barely 9 and you’re already thinking about the end of the day.” You scoffed lightly.

“Well, I need something to look forward to.” Amelia laughed. “So, wanna come?”

Your default answer was ready to come out of your mouth. You were already making up excuses to not go. And then you stopped yourself. Why shouldn’t you go tonight? There was no one waiting for you at home. You had no obligations. It could be a fun night out; you could even make a few new friends. Might even start a new friendship with Amelia. After all, she came to seek you out. She wanted to invite you.

“Why?” You had not meant to ask this out loud.

“What?”

“Why invite me? We barely talked to each other? Why ask me?”

“You said you just moved here in Hell’s Kitchen, remember?” Amelia gave you a tight smile. And you nodded at her words. “I figured I do the nice thing and invite you to come with us. Since, you don’t really know anyone here.”

Now, you felt stupid. You could feel your neck and cheeks heat up with your embarrassment. Not everyone was going to hurt you. There were good people in the world, you had to remind yourself of that.

“Sorry.” You apologized quickly. “I—I would love to come.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly.

“Good, I’ll come and get you when it’s time to go.”

You pressed your hands against your neck. If you could see yourself, you were sure there would be splotches of red all over it. Of course, you had to go and ask why? If “no” was your default answer most of the time, “why?” wasn’t too far behind. When your niece had first told you she loved you, your first answer wasn’t to say it back. It was to ask her why? And she had answered very sweetly: “Because you’re funny and you give the best hugs. And you always play with me.” And after that you never asked again. You only said it back. Because you did, you loved her very much.

You did not know why you did this. It was almost as though you did not believe that good things could happen to you. And if it did, it was not sincere. It was because someone wanted something from you and once, they got it. They’d leave you high and dry.

As the end of your day was nearing. Your anxiety was starting to get the better of you. You dreaded the moment Amelia would come and pick you up. You had agreed to it earlier because you genuinely wanted to. But now, all you wanted, was to go home. Not because you were drained or overstimulated. No, because you simply did not feel like going anymore. You were hoping she would forget about you. Or at least, it would have been cancelled.

It wasn’t cancelled. And you couldn’t just bail on them. It was the first time, since you arrived in Hell’s Kitchen, that you had been invited to hang out. If you bailed on them now, you might not be invited ever again. So, you went. And who knows, you might have some fun.

“Josie’s.” You read out as you stopped in front of the bar with Amelia.

“Yeah, it’s a dive bar, really.” Amelia told you quickly. “But the drinks good enough.”

“Okay.”

She pulled you in after her. You both stopped at the bar to order your drinks and she then took you to their table. It was a small gathering. You recognized a few people, there was the receptionist; Clara. Then, there was another proofreader, you had interacted with. Barely. His name was Sebastian and some other people. You sat next to Amelia.

As soon as you sat down, they resumed their conversations. You were a silent observer. You laughed at their jokes. You listened intently to what they were saying. And you were really brief when they asked you questions about yourself. And redirected the attention on someone else as quickly as possible. You did not want the spotlight to be on you.

While your coworkers were conversing with one another, you couldn’t help but glanced around you. Your eyes travelled over the numerous patrons in the bar. Bikers, blue collar workers and some white-collar workers. They were many. The bar seemed to be quite successful.

And then your eyes landed on him.

Dark haired, with red tinted glasses and a cane. His plump lips were begging to be kissed, his jawline was to die for. His hair looked soft to the touch and you were itching to run your fingers through them. His shirt was so tight that it left nothing to the imagination. You could tell that he was well built underneath it. And his smile—oh, his smile was the most beautiful, you’ve ever laid eyes on. It lit up his whole face. Made him look younger. He looked perfect in every way.

You quickly darted your eyes away. You did not want to be caught staring. However, it was too late. Unbeknownst to you, Amelia had caught you looking.

“So, you look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Amelia said as she pulled you to the bar, to grab another drink.

“I am.” You nodded. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“No problem.” Amelia nudged your shoulder. “Would you want to do it again sometimes?”

“Yes, but can we space them out?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” She snorted. “It’s only when the urge strikes.” And she turned away from you. She looked over her shoulder briefly. “So, someone caught your eye.”

“What? No.” You answered quickly.

“That’s not what I saw.” She smirked at you. Josie pushed your beers towards you. “You kept staring at glasses over there.” She waved her hand towards perfect man.

“No, I did not.” You protested while pulling her hand down.

“Oh, come on!” Amelia insisted. “It’s not a crime. He’s pretty and you have eyes. It’s okay to stare a little.”

“Stop.”

“But you know what would be even better?”

“I’m going to regret this.” You rolled your eyes in annoyance. “What?”

“If you spoke to the guy. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Rejection.” You simply answered.

“Well, rejection is part of the game.” She shrugged. You gave out a deep sigh, and put your chin in the palm of your hand. “You got nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

Nothing to lose? Easy for her to say. After all, she wasn’t the one who had her heart broken, so many times, that there was barely anything left of it. When it came to the matters of the heart, you did not think that the risks were worth it. Even if it was for a Pretty Boy.

Your eyes landed on him again, in spite of yourself. His eyes seemed to be on you and Amelia. Almost as though he was directly looking at you. But he was blind, right? That would be impossible.

“You’re staring again.” She teased you. And you turned back to the bar quickly.

“Drop it.” You told her sternly. “It’s not worth it.” Her eyebrows went into her hairline. “Plus, a guy like him would never go for a girl like me.”

“What? Beautiful and sweet?”

“I’m not beautiful. I’m not ugly but I’m not beautiful. I’m average at best.” You shook your head. “And I’m not sweet.”

Amelia looked at you baffled by your defensiveness over compliments. You acted as though she insulted you. She pushed your beer away from you.

“First, those were compliments and not insults. So, take them.” Amelia said. “And why would he go for someone else when he could go for you?”

“You’re being this nice to me over a lighter?”

“It’s not just about the lighter.” She told you. “You walked me home. You didn’t have to but you did. It was very kind and sweet. Thus, proving my point. You are sweet.”

“It was practical. My flat isn’t too far away from yours. And it was as much for your safety as it was for mine.” You shrugged. “It’s dangerous at night in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Amelia rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration. “You are going to take that compliment. I will beat it into you, if I have to.”

“That would be assault.”

“You thing you’re funny, uh?”

“I think I’m adorable.”

“Bitch, you’re testing my patience.” And that got a laugh out of you. She shook her head and laughed with you. “You really are annoying.”

“That’s more like it.” You grinned at her. “Want me to walk you home again?”

“Yeah,” She nodded and clinked her beer with yours. “We finish our drinks and then, we’re good to go.”

“Okay.”

She waved her finger at you. “But this conversation is not over.”

“What conversation?” You retorted, taking on a faux air of innocence.

Amelia glared at you which elicited a chuckle out of you. “Put a few drinks in you and you turn into a comedian. Who would have thought?”

“I could have mentioned it. Save you some time.”

“Do you need to have an answer to everything?”

“Should I answer that or--?”

“Oh, shut up.” And you snorted.

She raised her beer to her lips and toss it back. She gulped the rest of the bottle down and slammed it back onto the counter. Both of your empty bottles were left on the counter and you walked back to your small group of friends. On your way there, your eyes automatically found Pretty Boy, once again. Again, his gaze seemed to be on you and you dropped your eyes to the ground immediately. Feeling guilty that you were staring again, you let out a long sigh and muttered to yourself. “If he’s ever going for someone, it would be for Amelia.”

“There you go.” Amelia handed you your coat and bag. “What are you muttering to yourself again?”

“What do you mean again?” You asked stunned, blood rushing to your neck and cheeks. “You caught me doing that a lot?”

“You are not really trying to hide it.” Amelia shrugged. “So, what was it?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.” You pouted while you put on your coat.

“Was it about Pretty Boy?” She smirked at you.

“Oh, stop!” You said as sternly as possible with your lips jutted out in a pout. “It wasn’t about Pretty Boy.”

“Hmm,” She nodded smugly. “I’ll pretend I believe that.” She laced her arm with yours as you both exited the bar.

“He is really pretty.” You smiled shyly. Amelia’s shoulder nudged yours, as she giggled along with you.

“Next time, we see him. You’re talking to him.” You groaned at her words.

That night was the first time, you ever laid eyes on him. And you thought it would be the last time.

What were the chances for you to stumble upon him in this city ever again? He could be living outside of the city. Or it was only chance that brought him there tonight. And this was a once in a lifetime chance to meet the love of your life. And you blew it.

“Shut up!” You groaned as you slapped your forehead. “I did not blow my chance because there wasn’t one to begin with.”

“Voices in your head?” Amelia put down the lighter next to you.

“They’re really loud today.” You shook your head. “And you don’t have to bring it back all the time. You can keep it.”

“I won’t have an excuse to come and see you. anymore”

“You don’t really need one.” You sighed.

“True.” She smirked. “Wanna go to Josie’s tonight?”

“What are we celebrating?” You retorted.

“Nothing.” Amelia shrugged. “I thought maybe we could blow off some steam.” She shrugged and sat down on your desk. “Seeing as those last two months were kinda crazy.”

“Yeah, they were.” You agreed. “I mean we are nearing the end of the season.”

As it were in the publishing world, books are published in a three-season cycle: Winter, Summer and Fall. Winter season came to a close by the end of April and the datelines were getting closer. For the last two months, you and your team had been working nonstop. You and the author of the book you were proofreading, were going back and forth about editing issues he had. And his anxieties regarding the matter were also affecting you. Under pressure and anxious, you and your coworkers had no time to go back out.

“I could use the break.” You leaned back in your chair. “And a couple of beers.”

“It’s a date.” Amelia got back on her feet. “Meet you by the reception desk.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Amelia and you were on the sidewalk in front of Josie’s. She was smoking a cigarette before you both get in.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Amelia asked you.

“I like the smell of it.” You shrugged.

She took another puff before she elbowed your side. You glared at her.  Her pointy elbow dug into your side painfully. “What’s that for?”

“It seems you’re in luck tonight.” She looked down at you. And with a jerk of her head, she indicated at something behind you.

You turned around and there he was. Tapping his cane on the sidewalk, holding the arm of a beautiful blonde. There was a man, blonde also, walking on his other side. Pretty Boy’s tie was loose around his neck and slightly crooked. A giant smile was on his face as the beautiful lady on his side threw her head back in laughter. You kept your eyes on their little group as they disappeared into the bar.

“Alright, tonight’s the night.” Amelia took a last puff out of her cigarette.

“What?” You turned to her confused.

“We agreed that next time we see him here, you would talk to him.”

“I did not agree to anything. You agreed with yourself.” You told her as she started to drag you toward the bar. “Amelia, stop!” You pulled your arm away from her.

“What are you so afraid of?” Amelia huffed in annoyance.

“Rejection. Humiliation. Mortification. Embarrassment.” You started to list out.

Sure, he was handsome. He was painfully handsome. And although, you had thought of his lips on yours, of his hands running through your hair as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Your hands flew to your ears at the thought. They warmed up as your blood rushed to them. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t talk to him.

“I’m perfectly fine with watching him from afar.” You said quietly, dropping your hands. “Can we go somewhere else, please?” You crossed your arms over your chest, making yourself as small as possible.

She dropped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side. “We already here, so we might as well go in.” You started pulling away from her. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. Relax.” She pulled you back in and turned you towards the doors.

“Promise?” You put your pinky out.

“Promise.” She hooked her pinky with yours.

In most situations, you weren’t afraid to go after what you wanted. Of course, you had to pass it through a few people first. Just to make sure you were making the right decision. Especially, when it came to your job. But when it came to relationships—romantic ones, you never took the first step. You were always afraid that the people you wanted—you desired—wouldn’t want you back. Which explains your lack of experiences when it came to dating. And the disappointing sexual experiences you had.

You sat at the bar and ordered your beer. Amelia sat beside you but kept looking over her shoulder. You turned briefly to where she was looking. And surely enough, she was looking directly towards Pretty Boy and his friends. You sighed and turned back around.

“You promised, remember?” You told her. “Pinky promised. Those are sacred.”

“Yeah, I know.” She pouted and turned back around. “You’re going to regret it later.”

“Don’t I know it?” You exhaled deeply.

How many times have you let someone go before you were too afraid to speak? How much longer will you stay up at night wondering about what ifs? How much longer will you stand in the way of your own happiness? How much longer will you live in fear?

There was comfort in fear. It kept you on your toes. It told you where the edge was. It helped you survive. There was nothing wrong with fear. There were no broken hearts, no hurt feelings. It was safe.

And yet—you wished you could take that step. You knew you could. You’ve done it before. You left the comfort of your home. Of everything you’ve known to come here in Hell’s Kitchen. What was the worse that could happen in talking to him? Nothing, right? It was just talking. A simple conversation between two people. Or maybe, you would just give him your number. He could call you if he wanted to. If not—well, you would keep wondering why he didn’t call you. The thought of it was torture enough.

You glanced back over your shoulder at Pretty Boy. He was no longer sitting with his friends. His coat was still there on the back of his chair, but he was gone. You turned back to your drink, and sorrowfully starting to play with the condensation on your beer.

“What can I get you, Murdock?”

“Just another beer, Josie, thanks.”

You turned your eyes towards the voice. And there he was. So, much more handsome up close. His voice was nice and deep. Music to your ears. You turned your eyes away from him. Your heartbeat was now racing in your ribcage. You looked up at the ceiling, searching for some sort of answers.

“Hey, I’m gonna go out for a smoke.” Amelia announced slamming her bottle on the counter.

“I’ll come with you.” You squeaked out.

“You should definitely stay and enjoy yourself.” Amelia pulled her hair out of the collar of her coat. “I’ll be back in a moment. You should—you know strike up a conversation or two.” And she pointedly looked at the man by your side.

You gasped as she left. “You promised!” You called after her. “Pinky promised.”

“What did she promise?” Pretty Boy asked you. A grin plastered on his face.

You took a few minutes to answer, your eyes following Amelia’s exit out of the bar. And let out a breath. “To not make me do something I didn’t want to do.”

“And what was it? The thing you didn’t want to do.”

You couldn’t help the small grin that came onto your face before you answered. “Striking up a conversation with someone.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Why not?”

“It’s kind of terrifying for me to—talk to people.” The blood was rushing to your chest, your heart was slamming against your ribcage.

“You’re talking to me now.” His voice seemed lower as he spoke.

You scoffed. “True. I am.”

“How does it feel?” His lips twitched up at the corners.

“Not as terrifying as I thought.”

He chuckled. And you smiled at the sound. “I’m Matt.” He extended his hand out to you.

You put your hand in his. Your breath hitched in your throat as your skin touched his. You cleared your throat before giving him your name.

“You have a pretty name.” He told you.

“You make it sound prettier.” You quipped back, feeling braver now. His eyebrows flew high on his forehead before he let out a laugh. You laughed along with him. “Nice to meet you, Matt.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He nodded, this boyish grin never leaving his face.

That was the night you officially met Matt Murdock. It wasn’t as daunting as you thought it would be. In fact, speaking with Matt came easy to you. His eyes were unseeing and yet, they were always on you. And for once in your life, you did not mind the attention.

You didn’t think anything life altering would come of it. If anything, you thought you were gaining another friend.

Little did you know…

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[crazystargirl]

hi! can I request that u write something that has to due with fem!reader who works at the local movie theater and ethan met her when going to see a movie bc shes a cashier or something and he becomes obsessed with her and starts to show up all the time to watch her and learns her schedule by heart? the she begins to notice but thinks it's really cute and when she finally mentions it, they exchange numbers and go out and stuff?

lots of love, lexie <3

lil movie stalker ♥︎

pairing ♥︎ - ethan landry x reader, ethan landry x fem!reader

word count ♥︎ - 0.9k!

a/n ♥︎ - HELP THE ENDING SOUNDS SO SHITTY AND CHEESY, AND THE TITLE I COULDNT FIGURE OUT ANYTHING GOOD FOR BUT ANYWAYSSSSS, lexie i am so sorry it took so long to write this, i started writing this but ended up stopping due to writers block but here it is! Also kae i promise im working on yours now!!

Ethan had first spotted you when the friend group had dragged him to go see a movie that they had all been wanting to see in theaters. He thought seeing a movie in theaters was kind of dumb since why pay extra and buy snacks and drinks when you can just wait for it to come out and watch it at home or get it illegally. 

It wasn't as bad as having to go to one of those frat parties Chad dragged him to but it was a movie he didn't want to go watch. At least seeing you made it bearable. 

You were gorgeous to say the least. Ethan is pretty sure he's seen you somewhere other than here before.

"Hey isn't that the girl from our english class?" Chad asked Tara, with a nudge to the shoulder.

"Yeah I think she is!" Tara replied.

"Isn't she also dating that idiot jock who wanted to fight you Chad?" Mindy asked, leaning over to join into the conversation.

Ethan frowned at hearing this until Tara said something else.

"No that's a rumor I think, the jock, Steve I think, is dating that idiotic airhead."

"Oh yeah! Y/n, i think that's her name is single or something."

Sam gasps dramatically and looked back at Chad, "You better not be planning to take her out because if you break Tara's heart, I will go Billy Loomis on you."

Everyone laughed and Chad put on a shocked face as they walked up to the ticket booth to get the tickets. Sam bought the tickets and Tara, Mindy, and Ethan went to the concession stand to buy popcorn and drinks.

"Hey y/n! I didn't know you worked here!" Tara said with a bright smile

You looked at her and grinned, "Yeah! I work here part time afterschool and on the weekends cause I'm trying to be more independent"

"Ohhh makes sense, maybe I should get a part time job too, to help Sam out."

"Please don't, then Sam will feel like she's not needed," Quinn said, coming up behind Tara with Sam and Chad. 

"Hi Sam, Quinn, Chad, and boy I do not know" you said looking at Ethan, not noticing him before.

Chad came up next to Ethan and put an arm around him, "This is my best man, Ethan Landry, I don't think you guys have any classes together right?"

"I don't think we do but it's nice to meet you anyway." Ethan said with a smile.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too! Alright guys you better order now since there's a line waiting behind yall"

The group ordered and you gave them their food and drinks and waved goodbye to them. Little did you know that this wasn't going to be the last time you saw Ethan, especially not with the way he looked at you while leaving.

After that day, you hadn't seen him but he definitely saw you. He came everyday after school to watch you.

Ok that sounds a bit fucked up but hey there's no harm in just watching someone…and maybe even learning their work schedule.

After a week or two of watching you, Ethan becomes somewhat enamored. Unfortunately for him, this did not go unnoticed by you.

The first time you actually noticed is when one of your coworkers nudged you and told you something that you didn't quite like…

"Y/n, y'know the guy who always comes after school?"

"What guy?" you asked puzzled

She pointed to Ethan who quickly looked away and looked at his phone.

"Oh yeah i know him, he's friends with some people i know"

"Well i think he's pretty cute and has been coming here almost everyday. I think he might like me"

You frown at the thought, you may or may not have developed feelings for the guy and were praying your coworker wasn't going to ask him out

"Im gonna ask him out"

There goes that

You watch as she goes up to Ethan but start giggling once you see that Ethan shakes his head and looks back at his phone

"Damn he didn't like you huh?" you say as she returns huffing

"Yeah like what the fuck, he literally said he liked someone else"

You laugh and continue working, you want to ask him out or something but you're unsure on how to.

After a few days you decide to go up to him and just ask him why he's always at the theater

You come up to him with a drink

"Hey ethan!"

He looks up and smiles at you

"Hey y/n, what do i owe the pleasure?"

"Well I've noticed you're always around so i decided to just bring you a drink"

"Oh thanks! You uh noticed?"

"Well not immediately but one of my coworkers pointed it out to me, she's the one who asked you out"

"Oh yeah i remember her, i actually don't like her, i come here…well dont take this the wrong way but to watch you" ethan says looking down embarrassed.

"Aww that's actually really cute, do you wanna maybe go see a movie this weekend?"

"Yeah! That would be great, could i get your number?" 

You hand him your phone and he gives it back shortly after

"Alright I'll see you then eth!"

"Yeah cya" he says with a grin

You're probably smiling like an idiot right now but you're too happy to give a shit. You just scored a date with the guy you liked, why wouldn't you be happy? 

taglist ♥︎ - @xyzstar, @ourloveisgod23, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @bhk1234uwu, @nonniesworld, @athenalive, @lanaslittletwinkie, @beccajoestar

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