#puck!script

[puckpocketed]

22/04/2025 - practice media availability

Kuzmenko asked about his habit of chatting his linemates’ ears off. Transcript under the cut

MEDIA: You’re always, you’re always talking to Juice…

KUZMENKO: Mm-hmm

MEDIA: You’re always talking to Kopi.

KUZMENKO: Right.

REPORTER: Is that just you, your personality? You just like to…?

KUZMENKO: Ahh… Yes. I want, uh playing hockey on ice, I don’t want, uh think what’s happen in the future with Juice and Kopi. I want understanding next move. It’s little bit better for future, for good moment, for score, for passes, for good grade chance. And I love it, speak to my partners.

(Shrugging) I don’t know, probably too much and maybe more speak I, because it’s Kopi, (he imitates Kopitar nodding frantically) “Yeah,yeah, yeah, yeah, Kuzy, yeah, yeah!”

(Round of laughter from the room, Kuzmenko grins and pinches his nose) This moment I understand, okay, Kuzy, little bit slow, it’s too much information. Yes, because the first, uh, ten games a lot of… I, after probably every shift I watching the iPad. This I want this play, this my move, listen to me and go “What you think Juice? What you want?” And, uh, so important moment to me, because I need understanding is what’s the future, how future Juice moment, how future Kopi moment is. You know, it’s little bit key for the game… For the success.

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Home (Is Where I Want To Be)

Ship: Bear & Dante Hicks (platonic), Bear & Randal Graves (platonic)

Word Count: 977

Summary: When Bear returned to Leonardo, New Jersey, after their adventures in San Francisco. Not quite when they started hanging consistently with Jay & Silent Bob. Mostly dialogue. CWs for extremely brief drug implications, brief mentions of food, canon-typical suggestiveness, Randal being mildly disrespectful of Bear's identity.

Bear was glad to be back in Leonardo. Even though San Francisco helped them find themself, nothing said “home” to them like small-town New Jersey. They had found a duplex with cheap rent and had even gotten back into the club scene, though they were still looking for a job… still, even that wasn’t the top concern on their mind. They needed to know if things had changed at all at their favourite convenience store.

They first noticed a couple of familiar faces loitering outside the store when they got off the bus. They couldn’t help but stare as they tried to figure it out, earning them the attention of the two long-haired men.

“Motherfucker can I help you?” The skinny blond one snapped. “What, what, you think Silent Bob and I are some kind of freakshow you can get your kicks lookin’ at??”

“No, Jesus, sorry,” Bear responded quickly, a small smile coming to him. “I just thought you looked sort of familiar… maybe if I caught you in a dark room it’d come to me.”

“You recognise this clown?” The blond asked his companion, supposedly Silent Bob, who narrowed his eyes at Bear before shifting his hand side-to-side in a “so-so” motion.

“That’s a nice way to treat your customers,” Bear laughed over his shoulder as he entered the QuickStop. He took a deep inhale, the smell of floor wax and plastic filling his nostrils. It looked just as he remembered, which is to say, it looked like any other convenience store he’d been in… but this one was his. He gleefully browsed the shelves, grabbing himself a bag of chips and a bottle of Pepsi before approaching the counter.

“That’ll be six-twenty… anything else?” The clerk asked robotically as he rang Bear up. Bear’s heart skipped a beat as he looked into the man’s face. He nudged his tinted glasses down the bridge of his nose, looking at Dante over top of them.

“Usually I’d say no, but you wouldn’t happen to know if a Dante Hicks still works here, would you?”

Dante did a double-take. “Yeah, that’s… me… do I know you?”

Bear’s expression became a little sad. “Ah… I’ve changed that much… you mean to tell me you don’t remember dating an acne-ridden little weirdo who worked at the Flying Saucer Arcade and watched too many horror movies? For two years?”

Dante took a step back, taking them in. “Bear?!”

“Wrong, Rick Moranis. Very close, though.” Bear laughed and pushed up his glasses, “I’m just fucking with you, of course it’s me!”

Dante quickly came around the counter to wrap them up in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you…” He held them at arm’s length. “Wow, you’ve… you’re…”

“Myself. Really, Dante, it’s only been three years, I can’t be that unrecognisable…” They picked up their purchases with a grin.

“You’re certainly a lot happier than the last time I saw you. How was… where did you go?”

“San Francisco. Plenty of gay experiences for me to get around to. I’m really glad I did it, but I was getting homesick. How’s home been?”

Dante looked around, then laughed flatly. “I… guess it’s been pretty much the same. I work the QuickStop, I play hockey, I watch bad movies…” His eyes lit up. “Oh! I met the most gorgeous girl, Veronica, you’d love her. She’s smart and funny…”

“Your new girlfriend?” Bear gave no sign of jealousy or contempt for how quickly it seemed Dante had moved on.

“Yeah! Oh…” Dante rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Before he could make any comment about his and Bear’s relationship, Bear waved his hand dismissively.

“I’m not upset. I was the one who broke things off, after all. I’m happy for you and Veronica.” Bear then exhaled slowly as he looked toward the door. “Anyway, if you’re still here, I’m guessing good old ‘Scandal Graves’ is still right next door?”

Of course, at that moment, the door opened and he walked in. “Y’know, I just had the funniest feeling that somebody said my name over here, so I had to come make sure you weren’t masturbating with my name on your lips.”

“Wow, things really haven’t changed,” Bear mused at Randal’s quip.

“Hey, Randal,” Dante greeted his friend less than enthusiastically before placing a friendly hand on Bear’s shoulder. “You remember Bear?”

“Y’mean the chick that dressed like your dad?”

Dante instinctively moved to hold Bear’s hand to keep them from punching him. “Bear is not a chick. Bear is… well…”

“Bear,” they filled in for their ex. “But if it’s easier for your walnut-sized brain to understand, you can just think of me as a man who lost his penis in a very serious accident.”

Randal mock-startled. “Jesus Christ it’s standing right in front of me. How long has it been?”

“Three years,” Dante and Bear answered in unison.

“Certianly not enough time for either of you to have forgotten about me,” Bear huffed, then cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to see everything’s in perfect working order, even if I wasn’t around to be an overseer.”

“We should meet up sometime, when I’m not working,” Dante scrambled to say as Bear shuffled around Randal and toward the door. They looked back with a smile.

“Hey, don’t sound too eager, you’ll see me again. Where else can I get such quality goods as…” They opened their bag and pulled out the chip bag, which happened to be off-brand, “Torditos? But in all seriousness, that’d be nice. Take care, Dante… you too, Randal.” They added the last part reluctantly. The clerks waved them off, then turned to each other.

“Still got the hots for that thing?” Randal teased. Dante folded his arms.

“That’s not very funny, Randal, and I’m not going to talk to you if you’re going to keep disrespecting him like that.”

[demonwebs-a]

uh oh . he didn't mean to unearth some trauma there - this time it was purely accidental ! ❝ - ahhh ... ❞ should he pet him ? he goes to pat his head and recoils last second - maybe he shouldn't touch him . oh no . he broke him .

❝ you know , they're just ... they're just like - rats with tails or whatever , ❞ he scratches his own head instead , feeling himself stumble through an attempt to soothe him . ❝ ... it probably had it coming . ❞

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠 。。。

             latest grave robbed: shit i've said to my cat 。

@demonwebs : ❝ Those squirrels look like they’re doing something shifty. ❞

HIS FACE PALES & twists with agony as he involuntarily recalls the time he impulsively, uncontrollably, slammed a poor little squirrel into a tree with his foot. The squelching sound it made rings in his ears. 

             Puck has to crouch down to the ground, pressing the backs of his wrists into his eyes. ❝ Oh, please. Don't talk to me about squirrels. My heart really can't take it. They can be as shifty as they'd like as long as they're not within kicking distance. ❞

[fernhelm]

jegulus is more fun for me when james is at least a little bit of the cocky asshole he is in canon. i think him being a tad mean-spirited would make him much more relatable to regulus. he’s a prankster! he’s puck! i think he trusts his own interpretations of how others feel more than their own words. he’s a hopeless romantic and he’s writing a script for the love confession before the convo even happens. so good thing regulus is a grade-A bullshit detector and can knock james off balance in an instant. he’s goofy and charming but he will also push and push until he gets what he wants from you. and this would of course work on regulus (attention starved), but i truly believe it would piss lily off soooo bad. there is an element of performance to his behavior. he is always doing it for the studio audience. he’s throwing out cliché lines like he’s a romcom lead. he knows he’s hot. he does that thing where he lifts his shirt up to wipe his forehead and show off his abs. it’s the guy you want to hate but also begrudgingly respect in high school, and then could actually become friends with once you’re out. he’s a jock, yknow? that’s Sir Robin of Loxley. he’s never thinking about the power differential between him and severus, he sees himself as the knight in shining armor saving lily. insane levels of self-righteousness. this is why jegulus is the type of couple to have a big blowout fight and “go on a break” every couple of months, but ultimately be together forever. it’s what james wants— a relationship where they can break up and make up a thousand times and never doubt their love for each other. he lives for the dramaaa

[starlightsuffered]

Professor Chalamet

Warnings - Teacher and student (duh), oral (male and female receiving), secret relationship, spanking, name calling, needing to be quiet. Unprotected sex, breeding kink, mentions of masturbation, dirty talk

“That is the meaning behind the character of Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, you are dismissed,” Professor Chalamet said.

“Except for you Y/N,” he called to me. I gulped. Was today finally the day that he picked up on the not so subtle hints I’d been dropping?

Drama 101 had been interesting since the first morning I walked in, and saw Professor Chalamet. He was gorgeous. Piercing hazel eyes, sharp cheekbones, decadent curly hair. I was in heaven. I felt very happy that I’d arrived early out of anxiety. The two of us had, had a very nice conversation. Since then I’d made the very pornoesque decision, to get his attention.

He was just so damn stoic and calm. It seemed like nothing phased him. He never reacted. The semester was almost over, and I had no idea if I’d seen him again. I had to make a bold move. Our final was turning in a script for a short film. Our rough drafts had been due last week. I’d handed him “The Professor’s Secret.” A story about a Professor fucking his student. I’d even been so courageous as to name the Professor, Professor Chardonnay.

I was shaking with anticipation as I approached his desk. Students filed out of the classroom, giving me pitying looks. They didn’t understand this was all I wanted. I shivered as I remembered the door locked itself when you went out.

“Y/n,” Professor Chalamet called my attention back to him. I walked slowly to his desk. I made sure to swish my hips slightly. I was wearing a tiny, pink, skater skirt, and a white button down. I had dressed up just for him, and I desperately wanted him to know it.

“What is this?” He asked calmly, holding up my script.

“My rough draft sir,” I said politely. He ran a hand over his face, and when I looked at him again, I was shocked. The anger on his face was real and cold. Usually, he was all smiles and gentle words. This was different.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He asked menacingly. This was going wrong, completely and utterly wrong. He was truly angry. What would he do? Would he tell the school board? Would I get kicked out? Fuck, why did I let my pussy do all the thinking? Now there’s going to be a Fox News segment about me.

“Can you even comprehend how many times I’ve read this? How I’ve poured over it? I’ve cum so many times from this alone, it is haunting me,” he explained desperately. My world was spinning at hearing him talk like this. Thinking of him cumming to just my writing was mesmerizing. Imagine what I could do to him with my real self.

“What are you saying Professor?” I asked coyly as I walked closer to him slowly.

“Do you know how many papers I’ve neglected, to read this again and again?” He growled.

“Maybe you should punish me,” I suggested.

He looked at me for a moment, then pinched the bridge of his nose with a pained look.

“I’ve tried my damndest this semester to not give into carnal pleasures. My resistance is reaching it breaking point.”

“What if I want it to break?” I asked. I slowly, slowly, lowered myself to my knees in from of him. “What if I want to help it break.”

“Holy Hell,” he gasped. “You can’t tell anyone about this, not anyone you understand? Not a friend, not a sister or brother.”

“Oh stop,” I said squeezing his package. He shakily reached out to grab his desk.

“I want this as much as you do, why would I ruin the fun?”

He nodded, and unzippered his pants for me. My eyes bulged at his impressive length, and my mouth was watering. I took him in as far as I could go. I moaned as I felt his hand pulling on my hair. I sucked at him, moving up and down his cock. My spit was dripping down my chin, and onto the floor, but I wanted so badly to be good for him.

“Off,” he commanded, and I whined as he removed his cock from me.

I stood up and he kissed me roughly, hands massaging my breasts that were still clothed. One of his hands went down to grab handfuls of my ass.

“Do you wear those slutty little outfits for me everyday?” He asked, after he’d pulled away

“Yes, for you, all for you.”

“So, you’re just fine with distracting your Professor, while he’s trying to make a living,” he growled.

“Did it work?” I asked.

“You little minx,” he pushed me away from him. He cleared a section of him desk, and pushed me down on it. He pushed up my skirt, and pulled down my thong. He hissed as he saw the wet patch he’d made me create.

“I’m getting my ruler, you stay there,” he demanded. I did as I was told, lightly rubbing my thighs together for some sort of friction.

I heard the slap of the ruler on his hand as he approached me. I shivered with anticipation.

“You deserve punishment. Only bad girls rile up their professors in class, only bad girls write such filthy scripts.”

A smack came down on my ass and I stifled a cry. He instantly was massaging the red skin.

“Were you worried I wasn’t noticing the way you whored yourself out to me every class?”

Smack! Another blow had landed on my ass. I was loving the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Please Professor, may I have another?” I asked desperately.

“No, only good students get what they want,” he replied and there was no slap from the ruler. However, in seconds I was struggling not to scream out. He had gone under me, spread my legs, and was now devouring my heat with an expert tongue. I let out a mewl of pleasure and he stopped.

“Don’t make a sound, slut, then everyone will know our secret.”

“Yes, Professor Chalamet,” I choked out. He continued to bless me with his tongue. I was nearing my orgasm. He stopped for a moment, and bit the skin of my inner thigh before returning to his task. I’m seconds I was coming undone, thighs clamping around his head with the effort not to scream.

He walked around so he was in front of me. My slick coated his face, and he wore it like a badge of honor. I was panting, sweat dripping down my temples.

“Like that did you?” He asked with a smirk.

“A+,” I gasped. He chuckled, moving so he was behind me again.

“I hope that was enough to get you ready for me,” he said.

“More than enough, please fill me,” I begged. He pressed his tip to my entrance, and slowly pushed in. I relished how long it took him to bottom out inside me.

“Do you know how long I’ve imagined this,” he asked as he began to snap his hips forward. I couldn’t form the words to answer. My eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“How many times I’ve wanted to cancel class and just have you in every way possible?”

I groaned, nails making marks in his wooden desk. I pressed my ass back to meet his thrusts and he let out a moan of approval.

“I know you thought the same of me. The way you’d eye fuck me from across the room was almost too much to handle. Did you go back to your dorm after and touch yourself? Did you play with your pretty pussy to the thought of me y/n?”

“Yes,” it took all I had not to scream.

“I have an alternate ending for your script,” he told me as he reached around to play with my clit. I bit down hard on my hand, it was the only way to keep silent. The only things to hear in the room was the wet sounds of us and his low, whispered, filthy words.

“What?“ I managed to asked.

“I think the Professor should fuck his naughty student, that part can stay. But I think he should fill her everyday, every free period. She should be bursting with him. She would walk around campus so full of him that it’s leaking down her thighs.”

“Fuck,” I said against my hand. I knew I would leave deep teeth marks there.

“Wouldn’t it be delicious if she got pregnant? She wouldn’t be able to tell anyone whose cum she was carrying around. No one would know who bred her cunt so well that she was completely full. She would have to keep it undercover as he filled her over and over.”

“I can’t,” I gasped, and I was tumbling into a orgasm filled with shining stars and white hot pleasure. I couldn���t contain myself and Professor Chalamet had to clap his hand over my mouth, yet he continued to rub circles on my pulsating clit

“You want my cum? Im going to fill you,” he moaned as I continued to squeeze around him. He spilled into me, rope after rope of cum pumping into me.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath as he pulled out. I felt some of him spill out of me onto the floor.

“You are to have tutoring session with me every day of the school week, do I make myself clear?” He demanded.

“Yes Professor Chalamet,” I said with giddy joy.

“Call me Timothée.”

[nomie-11]

Right Wing - Part 1

masterlist!

synopsis: everything this year should have gone great—your second year as the starting center, your first year as captain—your last season at Boston university should have been amazing, until your new right wing showed up (soulmate au)

pairings: ellie williams x reader (no use of y/n)

All of your friends had something cute tattooed on the inside of their wrists. All of them had something soft, something endearing, that made them excited to meet their soulmate. 

Caitlyn had ‘cupcake’ in a bright red on her left wrist, and Vi had ‘my love’ in a soft, deep blue (and the two of them were soulmates, because duh), but you? You had ‘fuck’ in a deep forest green, too dark to fully cover with any concealer no matter how hard you tried. 

What batshit crazy soulmate did you have? 

You tried to rationalize it a hundred different ways. Maybe your soulmate had a terrible habit of cursing and just… said fuck a lot. Maybe it wasn’t even directed at you—maybe they just had a foul mouth and you just happened to be in the vicinity every time they opened it. 

It was wishful thinking. Everyone else got something sweet, something that made sense, something that didn’t make their parents tense up every time they saw it. Even Abby got something adorable, but you, on the other hand, had been stuck with the eternal mystery of why your one true love couldn’t seem to say anything to you without swearing. 

Still, it wasn’t like you had too much time to dwell on it. Between keeping up with pre-med classes and training for the Boston University Women’s Hockey Team, you had plenty to keep yourself busy with. You were starting your senior year now, already solidified in your spot as starting center and captain, and things were looking up. 

At least, until the first team meeting of the season. 

Your coach had brought in the new recruits, a handful of fresh faces standing near the lockers as the returning players tricked in. You took a seat on the bench, idly tapping your stick as you half-listened to Coach’s rundown—same drill as every year, welcome the new girls, be a team, say hello to your new captain and vice-captain (wave, smile, show all the other girls that you got this), don’t be an asshole, blah, blah, blah. 

Then you heard her. 

Or more accurately, you heard, “For fuck’s sake–” followed by the distinct clang of a hockey stick hitting the metal lockers. 

You turned just in time to see a girl standing there, auburn hair tied messily back, green eyes sharp with frustration as she yanked the laces on her skates like they’d personally offended her. 

“Ah, there she is!” Your coach beamed as she clambered in. “This is Ellie Williams, transfer from University of Vermont. She’s a junior and our new starting right wing. Get used to her.” 

Ellie Williams. The newest right wing. And, apparently, the most pissed-off person in the room. 

“Fucking—stupid—goddamn—” she muttered under her breath, her fingers struggling with the knot before she finally growled and yanked it loose. 

Your wrist burned, your stomach dropped. 

Oh, fuck. 

You looked down at the dark green script on your skin, the very same word that had plagued you for years. Then, slowly, your gaze lifted back to her, your supposed soulmate—still cursing, still scowling, completely unaware that she had just shattered your entire world with nothing but a pissed-off comment about her skates. 

Holy shit. 

You were so screwed. 

—------------------------------

Ellie was impossible. You were convinced of it by the third practice of the season. You were hot on her tail as she closed in on Dina, Caitlyn open and waiting by the net for her pass to get it past Dina, who was entirely too focused on the steadily approaching battering ram of 5’5” Ellie Williams. 

The scrimmage was going well before she had gotten the puck and gotten it into her head that she needed to be the one to score, and you were seething as you approached. 

“Pass the stupid puck!” You barked, skating up behind her. Despite being on the opposing team for this scrimmage, you did want to see improvement in your team as a whole, and that depended on Ellie meshing well into the starting line-up you had already solidified and perfected last year. 

Ellie ignored you, because of course she did. She always did. She had a goddamn problem with listening to anyone, but it seemed as if it was worse when it came to you. 

She weaved past Abby, barely keeping control of the puck as she advanced on the goal. Caitlyn was wide open, her stick tapping against the ice in anticipation. It would have been an easy shot—a guaranteed point. 

But Ellie refused, she always refused. 

And then, in the span of a second, her mistake cost her.

Vi had been waiting, watching, and as Ellie tried to cut inside for a last-second shot, Vi stepped up, her shoulder slamming into Ellie’s chest with brutal precision. Ellie hit the ice hard, her stick skittering away, the puck stolen in one clean motion. 

You skated past her without so much as a glance, catching Vi’s pass and redirecting the play back down to the other end of the rink. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ellie groaned from the ice, shoving herself upright with a wince. “What the hell was that?” 

Vi smirked, adjusting her helmet as she skated backward. “That was defense from someone built like a brick wall, dumbass. Maybe if you passed the puck, you wouldn’t have eaten shit.” 

“Fuck you,” Ellie shot back. 

Vi just winked. “Not my type, sweetheart.” 

The whistle blew, signaling the end of the scrimmage. 

You didn’t even wait for Ellie to get up before you stormed toward the benches, your blood boiling. This wasn’t the first time she had refused to pass, and it wasn’t going to be the last. It wouldn’t matter how many times Abby and Vi managed to knock her down on her ass, you could already tell, she was stubborn, reckless, and completely insufferable. 

“Nice one, Cap,” Dina called as she peeled off her goalie gloves, grinning. “You looked like you wanted to kill her.”

“I do,” you muttered, yanking off your helmet and running a hand through your sweat-damp hair. 

Ellie finally made it to the bench, still rubbing her ribs as she flopped down next to Caitlyn, scowling. “Vi plays like an asshole.” 

“You play like an idiot,” you shot back, not even looking at her. “If you had just passed the puck, you wouldn't have gotten laid out.” 

“Oh, my bad Captain Perfect,” Ellie sneered. “I didn’t realize we were running drills for the peewee league.” 

You turned then, your jaw tight. “We’re a team, Williams. Not a one-man show. If you can’t figure that out, you’re useless to us, and I’m benching you.” 

Ellie’s glare darkened, her hands clenched into fists over her pads. The locker room was quiet now, everyone else watching the two of you with varying degrees of amusement and concern. 

Finally, she let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah? Well, at least I don’t sound like a broken record.” 

You scoffed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Ellie leaned back, tilting her head at you. “Pass the stupid puck, pass the stupid puck,” she mimicked in an exaggerated voice. “Fuck, you ever say anything else?” 

Your stomach twisted, your wrist burned, because of course she would say it. Because that was the word. 

Ellie didn’t know. She had no idea. And you were starting to think maybe she never would. 

“Jesus christ, just shut up,” you snapped, shoving your gear into your bag before standing. “Don’t test Vi or Abby next time, listen to the call, and pass the puck. Or don’t, I will not hesitate to bench you for the rest of the season.” 

Ellie just smirked, eyes flickering down to where you pressed your hand against the sleeve that covered the tattoo on your wrist. “Yeah, sure, Captain Perfect.” 

You were ready to strangle a bitch. 

—------------------------------

You were already regretting your decision to let Ellie join the team’s late-night study session. 

The dorm common room was dimly lit, the overhead fluorescent lights of the student athlete housing casting a dull glow over the cluster of books, notebooks, and laptops strewn across the floor and coffee table. It smelled like stale coffee and the remnants of whatever takeout Abby had picked up earlier. Every had settled into their usual spots–Caitlyn cross-legged on the couch, neatly organizing her color-coded criminology notes; Vi leaning back with her arm draped of Caitlyn’s waist, flipping through an anatomy textbook like it personally offended her; Abby hunched over her laptop in the armchair, typing what had to the the world’s most aggressive essay on east asian monks; and Dina curled up with her tablet, half-studying early childhood education, half-watching some dumb sitcom with the volume so low it was barely a murmur. 

And then there was Ellie. 

Ellie, who had taken over the floor, stretched out across the rug with her hockey stick balanced across her shoulders like she was waiting for practice to start instead of actually studying. She didn’t even have a book in front of her—just a ratty black sketchbook, which ske kept flipping over and tapping at with her pen in boredom. Every few minutes, she would sigh dramatically, shift positions, or—worst of all—start spinning her pen between her fingers like a baton. 

You gritted your teeth, eyes scanning the physiology textbook in your lap as you tried to stay focused. 

A moment of silence. 

Then: tap, tap, tap. 

You inhaled slowly. Another pause. 

Tap tap tap tap tap. 

You slammed your book shut, looking up. “Ellie, if you don’t stop, I swear to God—”

Ellie blinked up at you innocently, shifting her grip on her stick. “What? I’m not doing anything.” 

“You’re tapping.” 

She shrugged. “Didn’t know tapping was a crime.”

“It is now,” you muttered, rubbing your temple. “Either sit still or go back to your dorm.” 

Ellie smirked, tilting her head as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Why? Am I distracting you?” 

“No. You’re annoying me.” 

Vi, who had been watching this exchange like it was the most entertaining thing in the world, let out a low laugh. “Ellie, I think you should take this win. That’s like the most words Cap’s said to you outside of screaming at you on the ice.” 

Your ears burned, and you scowled at Vi. “I don’t scream—”

“You definitely scream,” Abby muttered from across the room, not even looking up from her laptop. 

Dina snorted, adjusting her (old lady) reading glasses as she smirked at you. “Yeah, I think you’ve told Ellie to pass the stupid puck at least a hundred times today alone.” 

Ellie grinned, her green eyes gleaming with mischief. “Kinda cute, honestly.” 

Your stomach did something you definitely didn’t like. You immediately buried it under a wave of irritation, refusing to let yourself react. 

“If you actually studied,” you said through gritted teeth, “maybe you wouldn’t be failing chemistry.”

Ellie gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to her chest. “Wow, Captain Perfect, you’ve actually been paying attention to me.” 

You wanted to throttle her.

“I pay attention to all my teammates,” you said flatly, flipping your textbook open again. “That’s my job.” 

Ellie hummed, rolling onto her side, facing you. “Y’know,” she mused, tapping her fingers idly against her knee, “for someone who’s always telling me to use my team, you sure don’t let anyone close.” 

The words sent a sharp jolt through your chest, and you hated how much they hit home. 

You stiffened, your grip tightening on the highlighter in your hand. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Ellie shrugged. “You keep everyone around you at arm’s length. You’re the captain, and these girls are all your best friends, but how much do they really know about you? You don’t make jokes about yourself, you deflect every time someone asks you about anything remotely personal, you’re always first to shut someone up and the last to let anyone see you slip up. Kinda weird for someone who’s supposed to be all about teamwork, don’t you think?” 

Your pulse pounded in your ears. 

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know.

You had spent years perfecting this distance, keeping people at just the right length to avoid anything too personal, too close—to dangerous. Despite the attachment you had formed to your core four teammates, if any of them figured out why you kept your sleeves pulled down, why you flinched just slightly whenever Ellie muttered a frustrated fuck under her breath, the whole team dynamic would crumble. 

Because if anyone found out the truth—that the words permanently inked on your wrist, the words you would hear most often from your soulmate, were the same ones Ellie Williams spat out every other second—

You didn’t even want to think about it. 

So you didn’t. 

You pushed it down, locked it away, and forced yourself to keep your expression unreadable as you turned back to your textbook. “Focus on the playbook, Williams.” 

Ellie watched you for a long moment, her smirk fading into something more thoughtful, more curious. It made your skin prickle, like she was seeing something you hadn’t meant to let slip. 

Finally, she let out a low breath, shaking her head. 

“You’re hiding something.” 

Your stomach twisted. “What?’ 

She turned her head slightly, eyes sharp. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Her gaze flickered down—to your wrist, still covered with tape. 

Your pulse spiked. 

Ellie tilted her head. “You always wear that.” 

You shrugged. “Old injury.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Whatever you say, Captain Perfect.” 

And just like that, the moment passed. 

Ellie went back to fidgeting, Caitlyn returned to her notes, and the others resumed their work as if nothing had happened. 

But you felt it. 

The way your wrists burned just a little hotter, the ink a little darker than before. 

It was like fire on ice, and deep down, you knew that you were melting. 

This is the first part of a multi-part series! Read part 2 here!

Next part ->

If you enjoyed this, please check out my other series!

[totally-a-sheep]

*A couple hours later, the DJ's mixing console, the banner, the smoke machine and a ring of logs doused in petrol around the cottage are all in place. By hand... Stupid miracle blocker, but oh well. Burnt Farm Cottage is now the perfect party location.*

Good job, @bentleysbeetle . I think we've got everything. @puck-the-devil wanted to bring food, @janeway-lover bringing snacks, her sword and fruit, someone from Canada @breakawayresin is bringing hotdogs, @samael-your-guardian-angel bringing plants, @a-very-questionably-unstable-box is bringing glowsticks and itself, @echo-morningstar and @imthebentley are bringing more music...

Oh, before I forget it, here's your script for later.

*hands over ransom note*

Shall we summon the guests?

[shutupcrime]

Hear me out-

A Muppet’s Midsummer Night’s Dream

Theseus, Hippolyta, Lysander, Hermia, Helena and Demetrius are all esteemed Shakespearean actors who keep to the original script, whilst all the fairies and some of the mechanicals are muppets muppeting about with the occasional soliloquy.

I present to you my vision:

Gonzo as Oberon

Believe me when I tell you Gonzo has RANGE. I think his background as an alien will help him embody the more mystical elements of Oberon and we know from his performance as the narrator in a Muppets Christmas Carol he’s a natural leading man.

Rizzo as Puck

Name a more iconic duo than Gonzo and Rizzo the rat? You can’t- of course you fucking can’t. Their chemistry is off the charts, celestial dare I say, platonic soulmates the like of which us mere mortals cannot comprehend. On top of the incredible back and forth they’ll bring to Oberon and Puck, Rizzo has a sense of mischief and is just the right amount of a whimsy can’t do nothing right boy to bring a really endearing vision of Puck to the stage.

Miss Piggy as Titania

Is it controversial to pair up Miss Piggy with someone who’s not her usual leading man? Sure, but bear with me I have a vision. Oberon and Titania are at odds for most of the play and I can definitely see a world in which Miss Piggy beats his ass in front of all the other fairies. Also the role of a glamorous ethereal queen? Are you kidding? Miss Piggy is going to body this role heart and soul.

Kermit as Bottom

Remember when I told you to bear with me? I would never break up a duo like Kermit and his beloved Miss Piggy, are you mad? Bottom and Titania spend the whole play smooching and mucking about with the fairies, not only do these two have the chemistry but it also gives Miss Piggy a chance to serenade her beloved Kermie. The casting also works on a meta level with Kermit playing an over ambitious actor somewhat hemmed in by an eccentric troupe. The only question is with the iconic transformation scene, do we cast a human actor who turns into Kermit, or do we just have regular ole Kermit with some donkey ears? I need the thoughts of the public desperately.

The Mechanicals:

Fozzie Bear as Snug

Waka, waka

Beaker as Francis Flute

Literally his worst nightmare is playing Thisbe.

Pepe the Prawn as Robin Starveling

Just a weird lil guy pretending to be moonlight

Bunsen as Tom Snout

Tom Snouts a tinker- plus he can do Pyramus and Thisbe’s special effects

Scooter as Peter Quince

Typical theatre manager energy.

The Fairies:

The Chickens as Titania’s Attendants

To be honest I can see the Henson company making a lot of cool original puppets for the fairies but you can’t have the muppets without some dancing chickens.

Janice and Animal should also get special cameos as Peaseblossom and Mustardseed respectively and naturally Waldorf and Statler show up to heckle Pyramus and Thisbe at the end.

Disney- make it happen

[celluloidrainbow]

WERE THE WORLD MINE (2008) dir. Tom Gustafson If you had a love-potion, who would you make fall madly in love with you? Timothy, prone to escaping his dismal high school reality through dazzling musical daydreams, gets to answer that question in a very real way. After his eccentric teacher casts him as Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, he stumbles upon a recipe hidden within the script to create the play’s magical love flower. (link in title)

[eddiegettingshot]

Bucks terrible scone that eddie loved has changed my worldview actually. They literally wrote the 2 kinds of butter buck shouldnt use for scones into the script. and also wrote that chimney loves loaf and then made him wince at and push away buck’s loaf. also it was a pregnancy thing but maddie literally couldnt eat buck’s baked alaska or baked brie. But eddie thought bucks hockey puck was actually pretty good … so good he went digging in that basket for more goodies… goodies that are presumably inedible to the common person… and then also btw eddie made him a coffee after buck made eddie a scone … which pair well together … food as love metaphors straight from eddie’s kitchen yay…

THATS WHAT IM SAYINGGGGG HE THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY GOOD. and you know what’s beautiful is like he didn’t say it SO THAT buck would smile all bashful like that but he said it probably KNOWING it would make buck smile all bashful like that. he meant what he said but he probably only said it because it’s buck who handed him that hockey puck

[goldenroseeon]

Okay, who does everyone play in "A Midsummer's Nightmare About Zombies?"

Jeremy's monologue is based on Puck's monologue "If we shadows have offended...", so we can say he's Puck.

Jenna's "Now Fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour draws aspace..." is Theseus's line.

In the script, Chloe's marked as Hermia, and she doesn't have any lines that contradicts this I believe, so...

The issue I have is for Brooke. In the script, she's been marked as Helena, but her line "Why is her cheek so pale? How chance the roses there fade so fast?" Belongs to Lysander.

Additionally, her future line "Which angel wakes me from my flowery bed" is Titania's line, and in the Broadway version (I think this line is only in Broadway), Mr. Reyes hands him Puck's Pansy Serum, which, if the above is true, should've been Jeremy? If Rich was supposed to be Puck, who is Jeremy playing? Or, who does Rich play if Jeremy's playing Puck?

I guess it would make sense for her to play multiple parts seeing as there's only... 6 people playing in this show.

I have no clue who Christine is, but considering her outfit in Broadway, I can assume she's part of the fairy court.

I don't know who Jake would play, seeing as we never get his lines, but... I say he would play Oberon. Just vibes, I guess.

[puckpocketed]

5/11/2023 - BOS @ DET

Jake Walman hits the squabble

Before I get into the charity stuff, I'll just say that as a hockey player, you're almost looked upon as like... not human, in a way. [...] It doesn't bug me, but; when I was a kid I always looked up to these NHLers as, like, "Wow, I don't know if I wanna go up to this guy." It was really intimidating, 'cause these guys, they're so stoic [...] they treat themselves in such a way, and they act a certain way, even in their day-to-day lives... it's nerve-wracking to go up to them. And I remember as a kid saying "Wow, that's so-and-so, Dad! I'm nervous to go say hi but I really want to say hi." And I've kind of treated this professional life personally as, I always want to make somebody feel comfortable to come up to me. I want to be that joyful person that... some kid can see me in a mall and hit the griddy in front of me and I'll laugh at it. [...] I want kids and parents and whoever to feel comfortable coming to say hi. It's - I'm just human. We're all just human.

Transcript from Expected By Whom? Episode 25

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Only Dreams

Ship: Dante Hicks & Bear (platonic), Jay x Bear x Silent Bob

Word Count: 936

Summary: Processing the grief of canon: The Fic. Bear has a bad dream about Dante dying and he comforts them about it.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife

🐄🐄🐄

Bear gasped as they jolted awake to their alarm- they had set up their radio to turn on two hours before they needed to be at Mooby’s, and even though Mr. Blue Sky was now softly floating in the air, they felt horrible. Reaching up to rub their eyes, they found their cheeks were wet with tears. Behind them, Jay stirred, waking up just enough to kiss their shoulder and neck. When they didn’t murmur a “good morning” in response, Jay stretched and attempted to be more present.

“Hey, pookie, what’s up??” He asked, his voice low and drowsy.

“I had a bad dream,” they whispered back. In front of them, Silent Bob was waking, too.

“Shit, that’s no good…. you’re supposed to wake up all refreshed and shit…. do you wanna talk about it??”

They shook their head before burying their face in Silent Bob’s hairy chest, briefly making him open his eyes before sighing contently and shutting them again. Jay began to rub their back.

“That’s okay. You’re sure you wanna go to work at fuckin’ Mooby’s today, feelin’ like this?”

They suddenly sat up, nodding vigorously and startling Silent Bob. “I have to see Dante.”

“Shit, alright,” Jay yawned as Bear wriggled their way off the bed, rushing to get ready. Jay and Silent Bob ambled along behind them, content to take things at their own pace.

“What do you think they dreamt about?” Jay asked Silent Bob while Bear was in the shower. “I mean, they were all upset ‘n shit one moment, now they’ve got their fuckin’ boxers in a knot about gettin’ to fuckin’ work on time, I don’t get it.”

Silent Bob shrugged.

“I also don’t fuckin’ get how him and Dante are still close after breaking up, aren’t exes supposed to be all bitter and shit??”

Silent Bob opened his mouth to respond before being cut off by Bear entering the room in his uniform.

“You boys ready?”

“As we’ll ever be.”

They went out to catch Bear’s bus, then did their usual routine outside of Mooby’s, a quick round of kisses before the boys went about their loitering and Bear entered the restaurant. He was glad to see Dante was at the counter and rushed over to hug him from the other side of the counter.

“Good morning Bear-- woah! Okay. What’s this for??” He was briefly surprised but slowly relaxed into the gesture.

“‘M sorry….” Bear mumbled, “I just…. I had a stupid dream, that you died, and I was really scared and sad….”

Dante held them at arm's length. “Hey, hey, I’m not going anywhere. Your brain’s just being a jerk.”

“Hey, I thought you two broke up,” Randal interrupted as he entered the scene.

“And I thought I told you that we’re still friends,” Dante reminded him with an annoyed tone.

“Psh, yeah, like friends grip on each other like that. And why does gummy bear over here look so constipated??”

Both of them rolled their eyes as Dante’s hands fell away from Bear’s shoulders.

“Not constipated, just dealing with my rampant emotions, unlike you,” Bear quipped as he glided around the counter.

“Yeah, well, emotions are for pussies, of which you still have yours.”

Dante held Bear back from elbowing him in the stomach. “Dick….”

“Can’t we all get along for one morning???” Dante asked exasperatedly. He then turned to Bear, who still seemed a bit anxious about his dream, lowering his voice. “If you want to talk about how you’re feeling, we can pop into Becky’s office real quick.”

Bear nodded and Dante squeezed their hand encouragingly. “Randal, do your job.”

“Yes, mom,” Randal responded sarcastically as Dante took them away. They sat down in Becky’s office, a small but cosy space with dim, comfortable lighting.

“So, what happened in the dream, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“We were back at the Quick Stop, funnily enough…. you, er….” He felt his mouth going dry. “Had a heart attack. They couldn’t save you.”

Dante frowned, holding onto their hands. “I can see why that’d shake you up. Oh, Bear…. like I said, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, I promise you.”

Bear nodded. “It was just so…. real. You’ve got so much more life left to live, I-I can’t bear to think about not doing this every day, with you….”

“Yeah, but this isn’t really living, is it?” Dante smiled slightly. “I really need to travel more….”

“We should plan a trip to Coney Island, all this time living in approximation to New York and I’ve never been.”

“That would be fun. Though, Randal will likely want to go, too….”

Bear sighed lightly. “Bring him along. Jay and SB would be tagging along, anyway, can’t leave them alone for too long or they do shit like sell fireworks to unaccompanied minors.”

Dante made a sound somewhere between shock and amusement. “Wow.”

“Yeah…. honestly, I don’t know how they got along before me. Like chickens with their heads cut off, I guess.”

“You know, if you don’t mind my saying, I was completely flabbergasted when you turned up after that year in San Francisco, hanging out with them. But it’s nice to know even guys like that can find their slice of happiness.”

Bear beamed. “I didn’t have it in the forecast, either, but sometimes…. you just find your people. Thank you, Dante, I’m…. feeling better, now.”

“Good.” He stood and offered his hand. “Let’s get to work?”

He took it. “Don’t you mean let’s mooove out?” He snickered. Dante laughed sarcastically, though he was smiling as they got to their feet.

[demonwebs-a]

oh , this will never stop being funny . tomorrow he thinks he'll convince puck there's no such thing as potatoes in menzoberranzan . or maybe he can make up a story about how drow can unhinge their maw and swallow rocks whole ! give him some time , he'll think of something .

... what ? he had a hard time adjusting to the surface too . it's only fair .

❝ maaaaaaybe ... ❞ never a straight answer with this one . he taps his nose , red eyes burning with mischief . ❝ mm .. well ... i suppose my sister has hauled me head-first into a door before , ❞ as one does . ❝ does that count ? or - since it was my head , was it technically me opening the door for her ? ❞

&&.┆THE BAG OF BONES ☠️ INBOX. 

@demonwebs sent:

i don't know what to say. this has never happened before.

SOURCE: PROMPTS FOR PEOPLE WHO AREN'T USED TO KINDNESS.

❝ N- NEVER . . . ？❞ Shock ripples across Puck's face before he can help it. The ranger may not remember much about the ways of the world, having little to no memories to fall back on, but this had seemed like such a simple, common courtesy to him. Hadn't even thought twice about it.

But then he blinks. A deep frown settles on his face. A pout, really. ❝ You're fucking with me, aren't you ？That's mean. You know I'm gullible. There's no way no one has ever held a door open for you before . . .  ❞

[sirwadewilsonfromimgur]

Xavier School is putting on a production of...

A midsummer nights dream...

Cast

Deadpool as Puck... Obviously

Wolverine as Lysander

Who else should be cast in the play?

Keep in mind Wade is gonna be super salty and jealous of whoever is cast as Hermia (low key Helena too). He might go off script with the levels of pranks he plays.

[starlightsuffered]

Professor Chalamet

Pairing - Timothée Chalamet/Fem!Reader

Warnings - Teacher and student (duh), oral (male and female receiving), secret relationship, spanking, name calling, needing to be quiet. Unprotected sex, breeding kink, mentions of masturbation, dirty talk

"That is the meaning behind the character of Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream, you are dismissed," Professor Chalamet said.

"Except for you Y/N," he called to me. I gulped. Was today finally the day that he picked up on the not so subtle hints l'd been dropping?

Drama 101 had been interesting since the first morning | walked in, and saw Professor Chalamet. He was gorgeous. Piercing hazel eyes, sharp cheekbones, decadent curly hair. I was in heaven. I felt very happy that I'd arrived early out of anxiety. The two of us had, had a very nice conversation. Since then I'd made the very pornoesque decision, to get his attention.

He was just so damn stoic and calm. It seemed like nothing phased him. He never reacted. The semester was almost over, and I had no idea if I'd seen him again. I had to make a bold move. Our final was turning in a script for a short film. Our rough drafts had been due last week. I'd handed him "The Professor's Secret." A story about a Professor fucking his student. I'd even been so courageous as to name the Professor, Professor Chardonnay.

I was shaking with anticipation as I approached his desk. Students filed out of the classroom, giving me pitying looks. They didn't understand this was all I wanted. I shivered as I remembered the door locked itself when you went out.

"Y/n," Professor Chalamet called my attention back to him. I walked slowly to his desk. I made sure to swish my hips slightly. I was wearing a tiny, pink, skater skirt, and a white button down. I had dressed up just for him, and I desperately wanted him to know it.

"What is this?" He asked calmly, holding up my script.

"My rough draft sir," I said politely. He ran a hand over his face, and when I looked at him again, I was shocked.

The anger on his face was real and cold. Usually, he was all smiles and gentle words. This was different.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" He asked menacingly. This was going wrong, completely and utterly wrong. He was truly angry. What would he do? Would he tell the school board? Would I get kicked out? Fuck, why did I let my pussy do all the thinking? Now there's going to be a Fox News segment about me.

"Can you even comprehend how many times l've read this? How I've poured over it? I've cum so many times from this alone, it is haunting me," he explained desperately. My world was spinning at hearing him talk like this.

Thinking of him cumming to just my writing was mesmerizing. Imagine what I could do to him with my real self.

"What are you saying Professor?" | asked coyly as I walked closer to him slowly.

"Do you know how many papers I've neglected, to read this again and again?" He growled.

"Maybe you should punish me," I suggested.

He looked at me for a moment, then pinched the bridge of his nose with a pained look.

"I've tried my damndest this semester to not give into carnal pleasures. My resistance is reaching it breaking point."

"What if I want it to break?" I asked. I slowly, slowly, lowered myself to my knees in from of him. "What if I want to help it break."

or brother."

"Holy Hell," he gasped. "You can't tell anyone about this, not anyone you understand? Not a friend, not a sister

"Oh stop," I said squeezing his package. He shakily reached out to grab his desk.

"I want this as much as you do, why would I ruin the fun?"

He nodded, and unzippered his pants for me. My eyes bulged at his impressive length, and my mouth was watering. I took him in as far as I could go. I moaned as I felt his hand pulling on my hair. I sucked at him, moving up and down his cock. My spit was dripping down my chin, and onto the floor, but I wanted so badly to be good for him.

"Off," he commanded, and I whined as he removed his cock from me.

I stood up and he kissed me roughly, hands massaging my breasts that were still clothed. One of his hands went down to grab handfuls of my ass.

"Do you wear those slutty little outfits for me everyday?" He asked, after he'd pulled away.

"Yes, for you, all for you."

"So, you're just fine with distracting your Professor, while he's trying to make a living," he growled.

"Did it work?" I asked.

"You little minx," he pushed me away from him. He cleared a section of him desk, and pushed me down on it. He pushed up my skirt, and pulled down my thong. He hissed as he saw the wet patch he'd made me create.

"I'm getting my ruler, you stay there," he demanded. I did as I was told, lightly rubbing my thighs together for some sort of friction.

I heard the slap of the ruler on his hand as he approached me. I shivered with anticipation.

"You deserve punishment. Only bad girls rile up their professors in class, only bad girls write such filthy scripts."

A smack came down on my ass and I stifled a cry. He instantly was massaging the red skin.

"Were you worried I wasn't noticing the way you whored yourself out to me every class?"

Smack! Another blow had landed on my ass. I was loving the mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Please Professor, may I have another?" I asked desperately.

"No, only good students get what they want," he replied and there was no slap from the ruler. However, in seconds I was struggling not to scream out. He had gone under me, spread my legs, and was now devouring my heat with an expert tongue. I let out a mewl of pleasure and he stopped.

"Don't make a sound, slut, then everyone will know our secret."

"Yes, Professor Chalamet," | choked out. He continued to bless me with his tongue. I was nearing my orgasm. He stopped for a moment, and bit the skin of my inner thigh before returning to his task. I'm seconds I was coming undone, thighs clamping around his head with the effort not to scream.

He walked around so he was in front of me. My slick coated his face, and he wore it like a badge of honor. I was panting, sweat dripping down my temples.

"Like that did you?" He asked with a smirk.

"A+," | gasped. He chuckled, moving so he was behind me again.

"I hope that was enough to get you ready for me," he said.

"More than enough, please fill me," | begged. He pressed his tip to my entrance, and slowly pushed in. I relished how long it took him to bottom out inside me.

"Do you know how long l've imagined this" he asked as he began to snap his hips forward. I couldn't form the words to answer. My eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

"How many times l've wanted to cancel class and just have you in every way possible?"

I groaned, nails making marks in his wooden desk. I pressed my ass back to meet his thrusts and he let out a moan of approval.

"I know you thought the same of me. The way you'd eye fuck me from across the room was almost too much to handle. Did you go back to your dorm after and touch yourself? Did you play with your pretty pussy to the thought of me y/n?"

"Yes," it took all I had not to scream.

"I have an alternate ending for your script," he told me as he reached around to play with my clit. I bit down hard on my hand, it was the only way to keep silent. The only things to hear in the room was the wet sounds of us and his low, whispered, filthy words.

"What?" I managed to asked.

"I think the Professor should fuck his naughty student, that part can stay. But I think he should fill her everyday, every free period. She should be bursting with him. She would walk around campus so full of him that it's leaking down her thighs."

"Fuck," I said against my hand. I knew I would leave deep teeth marks there.

"Wouldn't it be delicious if she got pregnant? She wouldn't be able to tell anyone whose cum she was carrying around. No one would know who bred her cunt so well that she was completely full. She would have to keep it undercover as he filled her over and over."

"I can't," I gasped, and I was tumbling into a orgasm filled with shining stars and white hot pleasure. I couldn't contain myself and Professor Chalamet had to clap his hand over my mouth, yet he continued to rub circles on my pulsating clit.

"You want my cum? Im going to fill you," he moaned as I continued to squeeze around him. He spilled into me, rope after rope of cum pumping into me.

"Fuck," he said under his breath as he pulled out. I felt some of him spill out of me onto the floor.

"You are to have tutoring session with me every day of the school week, do I make myself clear?" He demanded.

"Yes Professor Chalamet," I said with giddy joy.

"Call me Timothée."