#mattie and flora

[drizzledrawings]

Cowbians lore is so deep and complex,,, it’s so tragic and full of love,,, it’s so heartbreaking and full of betrayal,, and reconciliation,,, it’s so “it’s you it’s always been you, you were there all along” its so “we’re meant to be doomed but we won’t let it happen”

Will I write it all down? Prob not

#cowbians #mattie and flora

[eviebakes]

'til morning comes

Summary: In the twilight years of gunslingers and outlaws, Mattie is used to being on her own—and then she meets Flora.

Word Count: ~4.5K

Warnings: Violence, Explicit Language

A/N: This story was inspired by @drizzledrawings amazing cowbians art, which you should definitely go check out!! Mattie and Flora are their characters, but hopefully I did these two cowboys justice 🤠 The title is from Tessellate by alt-j. Thank you so much for reading!

__________________

Mattie stood beneath the shade of an oak tree, an unlit cigarette between her lips.

She patted her pockets, biting back a sigh when the search failed to yield any matches.

Damn. Mattie tilted her head skyward, lifting her hat and pushing her bangs back into her hair.

Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, hinting at the promise of rain. Somewhere overhead, a hawk screeched.

June grazed nearby, just visible through the trees. Mattie debated calling her over so she could look through the saddle bags before quickly dismissing the idea.

She’d resupply when she got the chance. Maybe stop at that muddy little town she’d ridden past this morning and grab a hot meal while she was at it.

Later though.

Now, it was time to rob some bastard blind.

Mattie hummed beneath her breath as she strode through the trees, her hand brushing against the worn leather of her holster. The ground, still wet from last night’s rain, sunk beneath her boots with every step.

She found a good vantage spot on the edge of the road and tucked herself against a tree, half-obscured by the surrounding foliage.

A covered wagon rolled past, a man and woman arguing loudly over supplies. Then, a group of men on horseback, all of them grim faced and armed to the teeth.

Mattie waited patiently, biding her time.

Experience had taught her that it was better to wait for the right target. Even if there were less lawmen in this part of the country, picking the wrong person could lead to trouble.

Mattie straightened from her lean when a woman appeared down the road sitting astride a piebald horse, a white hat pulled low over her face.

Mattie eyed her consideringly—but to her surprise, the woman raised her head and looked straight at her.

Their eyes met. The woman gave her a once-over and smiled, touching the brim of her hat as she rode past. After a moment’s hesitation, Mattie returned the gesture and resumed her vigil.

Half an hour passed before another single rider appeared. A man this time, unarmed and covered in road dust.

Perfect.

“Help me,” Mattie gasped, limping out of the brush and stumbling to the ground in front of him. “Oh, God—please help me!”

“Whoa!” The man pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted, eyeing her warily. “What’s wrong, miss?”

“I-it’s my ankle,” she whimpered, clutching at her foot. “Somethin’ is wrong with my ankle!”

He hesitantly took a step closer, the watch chain on his vest glinting in the sun. “What happened?”

“My horse bucked me and r-ran off into the woods,” Mattie panted. “Please, mister. Can you help me find him?”

He shifted on his feet, seemingly torn between pity and suspicion. But Mattie was a good liar and, after several days of traveling, she didn’t have to feign dishevelment.

“Please,” she said, her voice cracking, and his expression finally softened. Got you.

“Here, let’s get you up,” he said, crouching beside her. “We’ll find your horse, miss.”

He helped her to stand and, as soon as she put weight on her foot, Mattie pretended to stumble into him.

Her fingers skimmed against the watch chain right as he moved to catch her, causing her hand to knock into his stomach. Shit.

Before she could play it off, he grabbed her wrist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Let go of me!” Mattie snapped, dropping all pretense.

Her free hand went to her holster when he only tightened his grip. “I should’ve known better! You’re nothing more than a goddamn—"

They both froze when a horse appeared down the road at a full gallop, heading straight for them.

The man released her with a curse, and Mattie dove away as the rider desperately pulled back on the reigns to avoid them.

The horse reared, the rider tumbling off the saddle and hitting the ground with a cry.

The man rushed over to help, and Mattie took advantage of the distraction to crawl into the undergrowth. Breathless, she peered through the leaves to watch the scene unfold.

“Miss! Miss, are you okay?”

“I-I think so. J-just a little shaken.”

“Here, let me help you sit up. Careful now—take it slow.”

Mattie narrowed her eyes. It was the same brunette who’d ridden past earlier. Why’d she come back this way…?

“Thank you, sir,” she said as the man helped her up, hastily offering an arm when she swayed unsteadily on her feet. “I truly appreciate your kindness.”

“If anything, I should be thanking you. You interrupted some ugly business—a would-be thief trying to rob me.”

“How awful!”

She clutched the man’s arm more tightly, and the sleight of hand was so subtle, so natural, that Mattie almost thought she’d imagined it.

But no—the woman smoothly tucked the watch up her shirtsleeve a moment later, her eyes never once leaving the man’s face. “I’m lucky I ran into you instead—I could’ve been in even more trouble!”

Unlike Mattie’s fumbled attempt at pickpocketing, the man didn’t so much as blink. “Don’t worry, now. She seems to have scampered off in the chaos.”

“Thank goodness for that! The roads can so unsafe sometimes.”

Mattie ground her teeth, fuming at the turn of events. This had to be a damn joke.

But as the man helped her onto the horse, the brunette turned to look right at the spot where Mattie had concealed herself—a flash of dark, mischievous eyes.

And then she winked.

What. The. FUCK.

_________

A few hours later found Mattie at the saloon, nursing a lukewarm beer while she sulked.

What a waste of a day. Hours spent staking out a decent spot along the road, and nothing to show for it but a bruised ego. She’d been outmaneuvered and out—out thieved, and it pissed her off to no end.

She took an angry gulp of beer, slamming down the bottle in a futile effort to relieve some of the frustration prickling beneath her skin.

No one paid her any mind. It was late afternoon, and the saloon was blessedly empty save for a few men playing poker.

Tomorrow, she’d start fresh. Ride to that town north of here and rob any easy targets she found along the way.

Tonight though, Mattie just wanted to forget the whole shitty day.

She drank her way through several more beers while the saloon slowly filled with people, the wall lights flickering to life as the sunlight faded. Carts and stagecoaches rumbled past outside, joining the piano music and the hum of conversation.

One of the poker players sidled up to the bar, squeezing into the open spot beside her. He was around her age, his hair slicked back with too much pomade.  

He ordered a whiskey, subtly glancing at her while the bartender filled a glass for him. Mattie ignored him, keeping her gaze forward.

She bit back a sigh when he fully twisted to face her. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore—"

“Not interested,” Mattie broke in flatly, not even bothering to look at him.

“I’m just trying to have a conv—”

“Get. Lost.”

His ears reddened, but there were too many people around for him to do more than shoot her a dirty look. “You aren’t that pretty anyways.”

“Good one. Very original,” Mattie said beneath her breath as he staggered away.

“Right? A real charmer,” someone said at her elbow.

Mattie tensed. It was the brunette—smiling at her like they were the best of friends. “You.”

“Me,” she agreed easily, resting her arms on the bar and nodding at the empty bottles. “Tough day, huh?”

“No thanks to you,” Mattie hissed accusingly, jabbing a finger at her. “You robbed me.”

“I thought about robbing you, but you didn’t look like you had much.”

She gaped. “You serious?”

“No, I’m Flora.”

“You—that’s not—!” Mattie pressed her lips together, glowering. “So…so you just came here to gloat then?”

“I came here for a drink, sunshine.”

Sunshine…? Mattie mouthed stupidly, her glare faltering. It was like she’d encountered a whirlwind—one that was two steps ahead of her.

“This was the closest town in riding distance,” Flora said, gesturing at the sunflower on Mattie’s hat in answer to her unspoken question. “And I was gonna rob the first good target I ran into out there. Don’t read too much into it.”

Her voice was friendly, but lacked the flirtatiousness from the road. It’d just been part of the act, like pretending to fall off her horse or Mattie’s damsel in distress ploy.

“Well aren’t you good at what you do,” Mattie said, like she had a mouthful of marbles.

“Awful sweet of you for noticing,” Flora said, grinning when she rolled her eyes. “Tell you what. Your next round is on me.”

“No thanks,” Mattie said, scowling. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Hey, if I feel bad for anyone, it’s that poor bastard from earlier.” Flora leaned closer, one of her braids sliding over her shoulder and grazing Mattie’s arm. “He was the one getting robbed today, one way or another.”

A laugh bubbled from the back of her throat. Mattie barely managed to turn it into a cough because—yeah, she had a point. “Just one drink.”

“That’s the spirit,” Flora said cheerfully, catching the bartender’s attention and tossing a few coins on the bar.

“But this doesn’t make us friends,” Mattie added, catching the drink Flora slid her way.

“Whatever you say,” Flora agreed amicably, clinking their bottles together. “Cheers.”

She waited until Mattie took a sip, smiling with the lip of the bottle still pressed to her mouth. “That wasn’t so bad, was—"

“Hey,” someone interrupted loudly. They simultaneously looked over their shoulders. “Hey, you. Irish.”

“Oh good,” Flora said lightly, turning and propping a hip against the bar. “Mr. Charmer is back for another round."

“Course he is.” Mattie clenched her jaw, twisting to face the man. “What do you want now?”

It took him a full second to focus on her. “I want to know what your problem is.”

“My problem is that I’m tryin’ to have a peaceful evenin’, and you keep botherin’ me.”

“I’m just trying to be friendly.” He leaned closer, his breath making her nose crinkle. “What, you’re too good for a conversation?”

“Is that what you call this?” Mattie looked at him coolly, her lip curling. “If you want to talk so badly, go pay someone for it.”

He flushed a dark red when Flora snickered, something ugly flashing across his face. “You really think you’re better than me, huh.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t go that far, but at least I don’t spend my time harassin’ folk and—what was that other part again?”

She pretended to mull it over before snapping her fingers. “Oh right. I don’t smell like fucking pig shit.”

Mattie raised her bottle in a sarcastic salute and turned back toward the bar, already anticipating his next move.

Sure enough, he grabbed her arm and tugged her toward him. “We aren’t done talk—"

The words cut off in a howl of pain when Mattie deftly flipped her bottle and smashed it against his face. He stumbled backwards and tripped over a chair, taking another man down with him as he fell.

The uproar was immediate. A few people ran for the exit, but the drunkest men joined the fray—hooting and hollering as they laid into one another.

Mattie didn’t wait to see the outcome. She sidestepped two brawling men and beelined it toward the exit, dodging neatly out of the way when someone ran past with a chair and threw it through the window with a whoop.

She’d almost reached the saloon doors when a hand clamped down on her arm and yanked her backwards.

Mattie twisted, catching a flash of Pig Shit’s bloodied face right before he plowed her in the cheek.

She spun with the force of the blow, tasting blood as pain erupted across her entire face. Mattie barely avoided his next few swings, landing a single punch before he decked her again.

Her vision went white. She flew into a table and crashed to the floor, shot glasses and bottles raining down around her.

Mattie struggled to her knees, shards of glass digging into her skin. Pig Shit’s boots appeared in her line of vision, the leather worn and muddied.

“Not so superior now, huh,” he sneered, kicking aside her hat as she spat out blood. “Bet you’re regretting that smart mouth of your—"

He staggered when something connected with his head, his expression frozen in surprise for the briefest second before he crumpled in a heap.

“With a mouth that big, he’s sure one to talk,” Flora said disdainfully, tossing aside the broken table leg while Mattie gaped at her. “Come on, sunshine—on your feet.”

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Mattie panted as Flora hauled her up and pushed her hat into her hands. “Figured you’d be long gone.”

“Well, you’re glad I’m not, right?” Flora retorted, her gaze locking onto something across the bar. Mattie wiped at her bloody lip and looked over her shoulder.

Two of the poker players—likely Pig Shit’s buddies—were shoving their way through the crowd in their direction.

“Can you run?” Flora asked urgently, grasping her wrist.

“I think so.”

“Then run,” she ordered, already tugging Mattie towards the exit.

They shouldered through the saloon doors and raced across the street, Flora leading them into a dark alleyway between a row of buildings and a fence where several people were loitering.

Without warning, Flora pulled off her hat and crowded her against the wall, pinning their hats between them.

“What’re you doin’,” Mattie hissed as Flora casually wrapped her arms around her waist. “This is the opposite of runnin’.”

“It’s called hiding in plain sight,” Flora whispered, settling into the embrace. She was a few inches shorter than Mattie, her temple fitting perfectly in the curve of her jaw. “Play along.”

Mattie bit back a retort when footsteps echoed down the alley, bowing her head as the men ran past—but young lovers hiding in the shadows was nothing unusual, and they didn’t so much as spare them a glance.

Flora stepped away as soon as the footsteps receded, placing her hat on her head. “Where’s your horse? You might be able to sneak away without them noticing.”

Mattie rested against the wall, biting back a wince while she probed at her cheek. Her left eye was already swollen shut. “The only place I’m goin’ tonight is a hotel.”

“Right,” Flora said, drawing out the word into multiple syllables and somehow injecting skepticism in all of them. “And you’re doing that why…?”

“’Cause they’ll be expectin’ me to jump town tonight,” Mattie explained. “Better to hunker down now and head out early.”

“That’s…actually pretty smart.”

She sounded insultingly impressed. Mattie huffed. “Give me some credit here.”

“The hotel is just around the corner,” Flora said, ignoring her. “We should head there now before our new friends decide to come calling again.”

Mattie looked at her sharply. “We?”

“You’re not the only one in danger,” Flora said, her tone losing some of the levity that’d been there all night. “They’ll be looking for me too.”

Mattie shook her head, too tired to argue. “Fine, but you’re not—"

“—your friend,” she broke in, raising an eyebrow. “I know.”

“No, that’s not—” Mattie put on her hat and pulled some coins from her pocket, pushing them into Flora’s hand. “I was gonna say that you don’t need to pay for the rooms since it’s my fault you’re in this mess.”

Flora gazed down at her palm for a moment, looking taken aback for the first time that day. Her eyes were bright when she glanced up, a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, partner.”

Mattie grunted and made her way toward the street. Flora fell into step beside her, undeterred. “Buddy?”

“No.”

“Pal?”

“Ugh.”

She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Compadre.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Mattie warned without heat, tilting her hat down to hide her smile when Flora just laughed.

“Maybe you should stay here,” Flora suggested when they reached the hotel. Light spilled through the windows, casting flickering shadows across her face. “You might, uh—”

Mattie snorted, sinking into a squat beside the water barrel sitting on the edge of the hotel porch. “Draw some attention?”

“Just a little,” Flora agreed. She hesitated, then untied the red bandana from her neck and held it out. “Here, sunshine. Your lip is bleeding again.”

“Mattie,” she corrected, gratefully accepting the piece of cloth. She realized Flora was staring at her after a second. “My name’s Mattie.”

“Mattie,” Flora said slowly, like she was testing the weight on her tongue. “It suits you.”

She looked up, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. Flora was already walking away, her boots clunking softly across the wood.

Mattie exhaled and pressed the bandana to her mouth. It smelled like clean linen and something slightly floral.

She closed her eye and leaned her head against the barrel, breathing in the scent of water-soaked wood. Her face throbbed, the pressure almost unbearable around her eye socket.

Someone was humming nearby, the tune fading in and out. A horse walked past on the street, its hooves thudding against the packed dirt road.

Mattie didn’t realize she’d dozed off until someone touched her shoulder. She jerked away, her hand shooting to her knife, but it was just Flora.

She pushed unsteadily to her feet. “We good?”

“Kinda. They only had one room left,” Flora said, trading a key and the remaining coins for her bandana. “You alright with sharing for the night?”

Mattie shrugged one shoulder. “If you wanted me dead, you’ve had a few chances.”

“And we’ve already established you have nothing worth robbing,” Flora joked, moving toward the hotel entrance.

“That too,” she said dryly, tipping her hat over her face as they passed the front desk and climbed a creaky set of stairs.

The room was surprisingly spacious, with a lit hearth and two neatly made beds.

Flora opened the window while Mattie tossed her hat onto the closest bed and went over to the washstand.

She pulled a towel from the rack and poured water into the basin, wincing when she caught sight of her reflection. Shit.

Flora was watching her when she turned around, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “That’s looking pretty bad.”

“Feels worse,” Mattie muttered, sitting on her bed and balancing the basin on her lap.

She wet the cloth, pausing when Flora stepped in front of her and touched her wrist.

“Let me help you with that,” she offered softly, waiting until Mattie gave a terse nod before sliding the cloth from her hand.

Flora retrieved the chair from the corner of the room and sat down, shifting forward until her knee bumped into her thigh. Mattie tensed when she grasped her chin, her fingers cool against her overheated skin.

“So, ‘peaceful evening,’ huh,” Flora said, dabbing the cloth against her lip. “I hate to see when you really let loose.”

“I doubt you could handle it,” Mattie said more airily than she felt, her eye darting to Flora’s face when she laughed.

“Oh, I think what I can handle would surprise you,” she said lightly, her fingertips sliding across Mattie’s jaw as she turned her face—the pale imitation of a tender touch.

“Why’re you helpin’ me so much?” Mattie demanded, feeling suddenly defensive.

Flora glanced at her through her lashes, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Maybe I have a soft spot for underdogs.”

She bristled. “I’m not a charity case.”

“And I’m not your enemy,” Flora said quietly, her thumb resting on the soft underside of Mattie’s chin. “Besides, everyone needs a little help now and then—even tough cowboys like you.”

Flora dipped the cloth in the basin and ran the cloth over her swollen cheek, the motion achingly gentle—and Mattie abruptly realized the answer to her own question.

Kind. Flora was helping her because she was kind.

Mattie shot Flora a subtle glance, her eye moving from the furrow of concentration between her brows to the soft curve of her face.

Flora lifted her arm to inspect the cuts left behind from the broken glass, the motion causing Mattie’s knuckles to skim against her shirt.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by the soft patter of raindrops against the window. A gust of wind fluttered the curtains, filling the room with the scent of rain.

“There,” Flora said after securing a makeshift bandage over the deepest cut, sitting back in the chair as she surveyed her handiwork. “Good as new.”

“Just about,” Mattie said, cradling her arm to her chest. She hunched in on herself when Flora smiled, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling. “What?”

“You aren’t so tough, are you? You just need someone to look after you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Mattie muttered, her cheeks warming. She picked at a thread on her pants as Flora stood and stretched her arms over her head. “Hey, uh…”

Flora looked at her, letting her arms drop to her sides.

“Thank you.” Her eye darted to Flora and away again. “For everythin’.”

Mattie stared fixedly at the peeling wallpaper, but she could still feel Flora’s smile. “You’re welcome.”

_________

Mattie woke early the next morning, her entire face aching.

She stared blearily at the ceiling, breathing through the pain for a few minutes before sitting up and pulling on her boots.

It was still dark out, the only light coming from the dying embers of the fire. Mattie put on her hat, glancing at where Flora was sprawled across the other bed. For a moment, she thought about leaving her.

The impulse faded as quickly as it had come. It would’ve been a shit way to repay her kindness.

“Flora,” she said quietly, touching her shoulder. Flora sat up, instantly—enviably—awake. “We should go before the sun is up.”

They left the hotel a few minutes later and retrieved their horses from the hitching post in front of the saloon, following the road northeast until the town had disappeared behind them.

The ground was still wet from the rain, mud splattering onto their boots while they rode and a cool breeze ruffling their hair.

When the town was several miles behind them, they paused beside a river to refill their canteens while the first glint of sunlight pressed through the trees.

“Your horse is beautiful,” Flora said, shaking her hair loose from its ties and redoing her braids. “She seems so sweet.”

“Looks can be deceivin’,” Mattie said with a snort, glancing at where June was drinking from the river. “Tamin’ her cost me a sprained ankle and two cracked ribs. June’s a feisty one.”

“Just like her rider,” Flora teased, grinning when Mattie scoffed. She swept her braids over her shoulder and nodded at her horse. “Meanwhile, Bandit would gladly sell my soul for a peppermint.”

Mattie released a startled laugh. “Everyone has their price.”

“Oh! Speaking of...” Flora rummaged in her saddle bag and tossed Mattie a small sack. “Your cut.”

“My cut?” Mattie frowned and opened the bag, nearly choking when she saw the contents. “Where the hell you get this?”

“From the saloon,” Flora said innocently, her eyes shining. “I took the liberty of robbing the place blind after the fight broke out.”

Mattie gaped at her. “But why are you givin’ me half your share?”

“Because you started the fight.”

“You are somethin’ else,” Mattie said, shaking her head and stowing the money in her saddle bags. “How’d you get so good at stealin’, anyways?”

“Lots of practice,” Flora said, looking pleased as punch. She pulled a cigarette from her pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply. “Your brand of chaos isn’t half bad either.”

Warmth flooded her cheeks. Matie retrieved a cigarette too, more for something to do with her hands than because she wanted a smoke.

She put the cigarette between her lips and patted her pockets for a match before abruptly remembering the previous day.  

“Goddammit,” she sighed, shaking her head when Flora looked at her questioningly. “I meant to pick up matches in town, but then—”

“You picked a fight instead?”

“Well—yes, but—” Mattie smiled winningly, the cigarette still between her lips. “These things happen.”

“For some more than others, I imagine,” she laughed, exhaling a cloud of smoke from the side of her mouth. “Come here.”

Flora leaned forward, tilting up her face so the ends of their cigarettes touched. Her eyes flickered up for a breath, the light catching on her face.

Mattie had spent time in Arizona before realizing how much she’d preferred the plains and forests to the unyielding heat of a semi-desert, but the land out there had been something special.

The ring of color around Flora’s pupil was the exact same shade as the rocks had been in the soft light of morning, a richness and depth of color that faded into the same warm tones found in coffee or the earth.

And then Flora straightened, leaving Mattie to take a deep, shaky drag of her cigarette.

She held the smoke in her lungs before releasing it through her nose. “So, where’re you headed next?”

“I was thinking of going to a town about twenty miles north of here,” Flora said, flicking cinders from the end of her cigarette.

“I know the place,” Mattie said, cutting her eye to the side. “It’s more of a proper city than this dump was.”

“Exactly.” Flora grinned, propping a hand on her hip. “Lots of places for folks to drop some money or lose some valuables.”

Mattie chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“What about you?” Flora asked once they’d finished their cigarettes and had mounted their horses. “More bar fights in your future?”

“Not for the time bein,’ no,” Mattie said, leaning down to stroke June’s neck. “I was plannin’ on headin’ north too. You know, if you don’t mind ridin’ together for a bit.”

“That depends.” Flora tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You always this much trouble?”

“Sometimes,” Mattie admitted, leaning forward in the saddle. “But I can usually make it worth your while.”

“Somehow I don’t doubt it,” Flora said, her smile as bright as the new day. “Lead on, sunshine.”

Mattie ducked her head to hide her own smile, facing the horizon.

Together, they rode towards it.

#mattie and flora #flora and mattie #cowbians #cowboy lesbians #wlw #cowboys #fanfiction #fanfic #rdr2

[simelune]

when nighttime came, they invited luca over to watch some scary movies - i think mattie was a little scared.

#ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 #the sims 4 #simblr #cavazos legacy #flora fairchild #luca tinker #alena fairchild #bennett fairchild #mattie vatore

[frettchanstudios]

This was a fun and informative collaboration with the Invasive Species Council of British Columbia @iscbc. My design features a child removing invasive plants allowing native species to thrive. It will be used as a part of ISCBC's education program in the form of stickers and signs posted in areas of stewardship work.

You can read more about it here: https://bcinvasives.ca/news/knowledge-sharing-and-storytelling-through-stickers/

#art #artist #frettchanstudios #insavie species #british columbia #chantelle trainor-matties #indigenous #invasive plants #flora #plant life

[bandcampsnoop]

8/13/23.

I saw that Krischan (Frischluft! Tonträger) had bought this the other day. I listened and was immediately hooked. But, I was traveling so I completely forgot. Today, it got the Mawkish Twaddler stamp of approval and stayed on my radar long enough to get the coveted Sunday post.

Vasas flora och fauna is a Vasa, Finland band that play sweet, gentle indie pop. The kind of sound what The Kings of Convenience might sound like if they sped up their songs and played more indie pop. Of the Finnish posts, I would say this trends closest to Matti Jasu - but really this is more in the vein of BMX Bandits (with vocals that sound nothing like Duglas).

This is released by Swedish label Startracks.

#Vasas flora och fauna #Vasa #Finland #Startracks #Sweden #The Kings of Convenience #Matti Jasu #BMX Bandits #Duglas Stewart #Bandcamp

[unfortunate-arrow]

𝐻𝒫 𝒲𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒜𝓅𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒲𝑒𝑒𝓀

Day Four: Mother's Daughter (Talk about a female fankid that you love) of @endlessly-cursed’s HP women appreciation week

Lucretia “Lucy” and Matilda “Mattie” Devlin → Two of William Devlin and Josie Edwards’s (@slytherindisaster) three daughters, Lucy and Mattie each take after one of their parents. Lucy has her mother’s passion for nature and creatures, while Mattie has her father’s creativity but channels it into both piano and painting. Both girls also have their parents’ reserved natures (Mattie is more outgoing, though) and are both twins. Lucy is an identical twin, while Mattie is a fraternal twin.

Catherine “Kate” O’Neill → One of Rory O’Neill and Ethel Malinda’s (@gaygryffindorgal) twin daughters, Kate is her father’s daughter. She’s quite similar in personality to him, without all the trauma. She’s passionate about quidditch, but has never loved playing the sport and instead follows her mother’s footsteps into journalism, focusing on writing about quidditch.

Theodora “Dora” O’Donnell-Lee → The eldest daughter of Sara O’Donnell and Barnaby Lee, Dora is her mother’s daughter coupled with her father’s passion for creatures. Perhaps one of the first fankids I have, Dora has had many different iterations over the past few years. She’s always remained soft and passionate about animals. She is the eldest of the O’Donnell cousins, having three younger siblings and six younger cousins. Dora can be quite protective of her younger siblings and cousins.

Flora MacKade → The only daughter of Finn MacKade and Scotty Rosier (@drinkyoursoupbitch), Flora is the second eldest MacKade cousin. She’s a fascinating combination of her mother and father and my only female character who goes on to play quidditch professionally. Flora is plays chaser on her quidditch teams and often keeps an eye on her younger brother and cousins.

Honorary Mentions:

Saoirse Lynch → Tadhg and Niamh’s younger daughter, Aisling’s sister

Margo Pembroke → Max and Ivy’s only daughter

Cecilia Kennedy → Edmund and Lottie’s younger daughter

Daphne Demiurgos-Kennedy → Minerva and Adonis’s only daughter

Reva Rovere-Parsons → Georgie and Angelo’s only daughter

Winifred O’Donnell, Keira Khanna-O’Donnell, Violet O’Donnell-Lee, Naomi O’Donnell → the four other girl O’Donnell cousins, daughters of Ryan and Penny, Cara and Rowan, Sara and Barnaby, Conor and Ruth

Maya Kingsley-Valdez → Camila and Jasper’s daughter

Nora Easterbrook-Whitten → Benedict and Poppy’s middle daughter

#hpwomenaw #lucy devlin #mattie devlin #fankids: willsie #kate o’neill #fankids: rethel #dora o’donnell lee #fankids: saraby #flora mackade #fankids: finn x scotty #hphl fankids #fbawtft fankids #hphm fankids #hpma fankids #my aesthetic #also a shout-out to all the girls who are shared but not mine: emmeline devlin; aurelia kennedy; diana quintin; jane o’neill; zoey mackade; #ruby fitzgerald wilson; hazel whitten; iris & felicity easterbrook whitten; lyla whitten march; amelia whitten march; harper o’donnell lee

[3terna15unshin3]

Then Because She Goes

Will you stay or wait?

★ Chapter 15 of 15, 8147 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: !!! mature content, minors please do not interact !!!, smut, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, alcohol consumption

<< 14

12 August, 2022

With his hands rummaging through the plastic bag that had been sitting near his feet for the whole road trip, Matty searched for an empty bottle. He had downed one of Coke about an hour in, so he knew it should be in there—he just couldn’t seem to find it amongst the rest of the rubbish.

“You’re not weeing in my fucking car, Matty!” exclaimed Este, attempting to keep her eyes on the road but ultimately being drawn away into the man-child sitting next to her and all of his antics.

Matty continued sifting through the bag, ignoring her protests. “Please, it’s not like I’m gonna piss on your floor. And I’ve done it plenty of times before, so my aim is pretty good—Oh! Here it is,”

The Coke bottle from earlier found itself in his hands, preparing to be unscrewed. Matty had been complaining about his full bladder for the past half hour and the next place for Este to stop wasn’t for another 15 minutes. As soon as the make-shift toilet came into her view, she grabbed it and threw it over her shoulder and into the back seat. It bounced around and landed on the floor, out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, Este hoped.

“Love! What was that for?!”

“Grow up and hold it in for a couple more minutes.” Este threatened, reaching to turn down the radio’s volume before studying their surroundings in her mirrors and making a risky lane-change. Matty smiled at her habit of needing to quiet down her surroundings in order to focus.

He scratched the back of his neck. “Dunno if I can,”

Her eyes rolled at him. “You’re going to have to.” She said sternly.

“Well, then drive faster!”

Trying to listen to his girlfriend’s orders, Matty laced his fingers together and politely sat his hands on his lap. Focus, Matty, he thought to himself. His leg bounced up and down feverishly, to distract from the pain in his abdomen.

They sat in silence for the last stretch of the road, with Este’s eyes set on the GPS that guided her, and Matty squirming in the passenger’s seat. He kept complaining; and she tuned him out playfully. At one point, he even began undoing the zipper to his trousers, pretending to use Este’s car as a toilet instead of waiting for them to arrive at the petrol station. Matty wouldn’t actually do it, and just wanted to make her laugh. It did—though she didn’t like to admit it.

When they did arrive, he barely let Este put the gear into park before he burst out of the door and ran into the Shell while she refilled the tank.

“All good now.” Matty said when he came back, smiling widely. “No bottle of piss for you today,” They high-fived in silly celebration.

“I think I didn’t want you to wee in here because I’m just jealous. Not even because I think it’s gross.” admitted Este, laughing as she spoke. “I like, anatomically, could not even pee in a bottle if I tried. We’d have to pull over and find a bush for me to squat in.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s one of the many perks of having a dick,”

“Many?” She gave him the side-eye.

His brows wiggled suggestively. “You know…”

“Shut up.”

A few more moments of navigating led Este and Matty to where they were staying for the next two nights. It was a quaint Airbnb—away from the hustle and bustle of the city, which they didn’t mind, since they’d driven up and could easily use Este’s car to get around. They pulled into its driveway and admired the summer Manchester flora that heaped around the brick walls, surprised at how charming the fairly cheap listing had paid off in person.

Matty brought in their bags while Este creeped around lightly, peeking around every corner and touching things with a gentle hand. She explored as if what she was discovering could break just by looking at it too hard. Her feet trod quietly through the kitchen, into the lounge where the sofa looked particularly comfortable, and then up to the bedroom; where he caught her.

“Is there a reason why you’re walking around like a small Victorian child who has heard a noise in the middle of the night?” He asked, mocking her playfully as he sat on the bed next to his bag.

Este laughed at his tireless description of the timidness that washed over her the minute they entered the house. “I don’t know. It’s not my house—I’m not going to just barge in and throw myself about. I want to be a good guest. You know how I am,”

“I mean, you don’t have to ‘throw yourself about’, but you also don’t have to lift the toilet seat as if there’s some sort of punishment if you let it make a noise,” said Matty.

“You saw that?” Embarrassment was laced through her voice.

“Mm-hmm,” he confirmed, chuckling, “It was very cute though.”

She cringed and sat next to him. Matty’s hand found her thigh that brushed against his as their weight made the mattress cave in a bit. “It’s weird to pay to stay in someone else’s place in a city that feels like home, you know?” Este explained, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The past three years she had spent living in London didn’t waiver her Manchester pride. Este loved being a Londoner—the city was fruitful and ever-changing. It was the hub of her passions and the home of her favourite person. But, it didn’t fret her homesickness from being present; encouraging her and Matty to travel back to their hometown quite frequently. Mostly to visit Este’s parents, or Cate and Georgia.

This time around, they drove up to the North of England to celebrate with the latter couple at their housewarming party. Este was meant to come into the city earlier to help pack up the flat and move everything to their new place, but she was swamped with a head-cold so bad that her weekly column submission was almost submitted late. And it was never late.

It took almost two and a half years to work her way up to writing full pieces for The Guardian. Este spent a long time doing odd jobs and minor assistant editing before eventually getting promoted to co-writing some fluffy pieces with a team full of other writers. But then, at the beginning of the year, she was encouraged to join their literature review group. So now—every Wednesday—Este was a published and working literary journalist. Constantly reading books, and taking whoever flipped open The Guardian through the journey that each novel took her on. It was the second reason she couldn’t bear to leave London permanently; since being close to its headquarters and to where business flourished made work the easiest. The first was Matty, of course.

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually.” he started. “How it’s silly to come here so often and have to arrange a place to stay each time. Maybe we should just get a place here already,”

His suggestion intrigued her. Este liked the idea of having a home in both cities. “Like a little flat, or something?”

“Yeah, if we can find a good one. Just for us.”

“I’m in.”

-

The shower was cramped and its water pressure was next to non-existent, but alas; both Matty and Este had washed up in preparation for the party that evening. His curls hung damp and defined, while her hair stayed spun into a towel. They got ready—taking their sweet time and dawdling around—content to be doing any mundane task while having one another to do it with.

Both of them learned to appreciate the domestic side of being together after Este moved into Matty’s cold and rigid home, ultimately warming it up with the tenderness of her belongings and maximalist aesthetic. They met in the middle, somehow, and his home—now theirs—couldn’t be more reflective of their personalities. Living together was a challenge almost as identically as being apart was. But it was worth it.

Matty showered before her, so he sat on the bed and slid his party clothing over his towel-dried skin as Este emerged from the toilet. She let her raven hair free and tumble in wet gatherings near her face; still not dressed, and looking as if she wasn’t ever planning to do so.

A pair of cream boy short style knickers hugged her hips and a matching bralette supported her upper half. Este sauntered past him and sat at the wooden vanity where she had emptied all of her beauty products onto when unpacking. Matty’s eyes tracked her movements.

He didn’t say anything, at first. Just continued to button his shirt and fold up its sleeves while she started to put on some makeup. She opened and closed every product, Matty still watching, while delicately bouncing her fingertips to her cheeks and combing mascara through her long lashes. Este could feel his eyes burning into her skin—knowing that he was studying her summer tan that stood bolder next to her pale undergarments, and appreciating the rosiness she added to her face.

“What are you wearing? For tonight?” Matty asked after sensing that she was wrapping up at the vanity.

Este looked at him through his reflection in the mirror, smiling. “I brought a dress, it’s hung up in the closet since I didn’t want it to crease. The blue one.”

She tried to explain which one she was talking about, but since she was in need of putting it on anyway, she just got up to go fetch it. Matty took her spot in the now vacant chair, to lean forward and use the vanity’s lights to figure out his hair. He considered taking a dollop of gel and combing it back for the convenience, but he knew that Este liked when it came to the front and framed his forehead. And Matty liked doing things the way she liked them. So, he left it alone.

“See?” Stepping back into view, Este held the blue garment up in front of her barely clothed body for him to judge. He nodded and looked it up and down. There was a moment of silence as she waited for Matty to voice his approval. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

She dramatically dropped her free hand down to her side. “Nice? That’s all?” The other threw the hanger and dress flat onto the bed.

His hand waved her over, silently asking for her to step closer to him—and once she was in reach, Matty hooked his finger into the waistband of her underwear to pull and close the gap between them, wrapping his arm around the skin of her waist. He met her gaze, needing to tilt his head upwards since he was still sat on the vanity chair and was eye-level with her abdomen.

“I was just sort of hoping you’d look like this all night,”

As she felt the warmth of his hand graze back and forth across her spine, Este reached down to stick her own into his still damp curls. “Well, get your mind out of the gutter then.” He leaned back into her touch. “Plus, I know you couldn’t stand anyone else seeing me in this besides you.” The suggestive smirk could be heard in her voice.

Matty laughed and raised his eyebrows in agreement. “That’s a good point.”

She was about to take a seat on his lap; but her ringtone interrupted the thought. Both of their heads turned to where the sound came from, quickly realising that Este was getting a call. He laid a quick peck on her hip bone before she stepped away to answer it.

The call was switched to speakerphone after she read who was on the other end. “Lolo, hi.” greeted Este. “We haven’t even been away from her for half a day and you’re calling already? Should I be worried?”

“No, no. Nothing to worry about. We’re having fun together so far!” José explained. “I just wanted to make sure the car journey went alright.”

“Yeah, everything is good. Made it over in one piece. We’re going to leave for Cate’s in maybe an hour or so.” Este put her phone down to remove the dress from its hanger and slip it onto her body, while walking back to Matty and turning around to let him zip her up. It sat on her effortlessly and served as the perfect casual summery outfit; while still fitting for the late night out they had ahead of them.

“Tell her and G I say congrats on the house.” A bark was heard in the background. “From me and Keiko,” he finished with a chuckle.

José called from Matty and Este’s London house, staying over while they were away and looking after the puppy. Keiko (their four month old German Shepherd whose name came from the quirky Convenience Store Woman character that held precious memories for them both) erupted in more excitable barks through the phone after hearing her name.

“I will. She’s doing okay, yeah?” asked Este.

“Of course. But I’m sure she misses you guys. Right, Keiko? Where’d mummy and daddy go?” he started, egging the clueless pup on, and making the two on the phone to cringe at his choice of nicknames. “I’m also a bit worried that I’ve been giving her too many treats.”

Este’s eyes widened. “How many have you given her?!”

She put on a pair of black boots, while Matty held up his two shoe options. Her finger pointed to the black Converse out of instinct—always loving the classic shoe on her boyfriend as opposed to something dressier. He agreed and began undoing their laces.

“She’s just being a good puppy and I want her to know that,” her granddad responded defensively. “Your Lola would have been way worse than me. She’d give in and let Keiko walk her down the street instead of the other way round. So you should be thankful it’s just me,”

The conversation made Matty laugh; both of nervousness, for the well-being of his dog at home, and also of pure adoration for José. What a legend.

“Can I have the phone, love?” he asked, before Este handed it to him and watched him bring it close to his mouth. “Hey. It’s Matty. I like spoiling her too, Lolo. Don’t worry. I get it.” Matty said in a hushed voice.

Her jaw dropped open and the two men rejoiced, both basking in their soft spots for Keiko. “Don’t enable him.” scolded Este. She tried to be angry, but she loved them too bad to care all that much.

-

They took an Uber to the party after considering that they’d probably have too many drinks to be able to sober up and drive back. And as the city zoomed past them, they watched it through the backseat windows—both fantasising about their hypothetical second house in their second home. What it would look like, where in Manchester it would sit. Each of them pointed at different buildings periodically, pitching their favourites to the other. “Those ones seem too modern from the outside,” or ”This area’s rubbish,” or “Are you serious? Would you live there?” were a few short phrases exchanged between them.

The happy couple in their new house greeted Matty and Este with excited hugs. In the corner, on a sofa and catching up with the other parents, sat Este’s mother and father. Cate insisted on inviting them to give her own parents some company; the pair growing close after her and Este’s long friendship. It was a bit embarrassing for Este to learn that her parents had beaten her there, but she was also happy to see them and be able to give them a squeeze.

“There you guys are! We’ve been waiting for you!” said Este’s dad, giving Matty a firm handshake and then wrapping his arms around his daughter. A series of small hi’s and hello’s were thrown around the room as the lively music filled the air.

Percy planted a firm kiss into Matty’s cheek and followed suit with Este’s. “How’s Keiko doing back at home?“ she wondered.

“I think she’s pretty good so far,” responded Matty, “José’s spoiling her rotten—but we were expecting that. Just miss her already, don’t we E?” He rubbed her hip with the hand that was draped around her.

Este nodded with a pout on her face, thinking about their puppy and how badly protective they were of her. “100%. Should’ve brought her here and let her christen the new house by weeing all over your floor!” she joked.

“You wouldn’t dare,” sneered Cate as Georgia shoved a G&T and glass of red wine into their hands almost immediately, eager to get the night started.

-

“This is my favourite room in the whole house, E. Look. You’ll love it. I think of you every time I step inside,” the redhead declared as she led the two around for a tour. “It’s not totally finished, but you’ll get it.”

A twist of the doorknob showed them the home office. Cate and Georgia had put together every book they owned and shelved them charismatically. They surrounded the window, framed the desks, and sat in piles on the floor. Greenery of all sorts sat on top of them, and even hung from the ceiling. The rug was warm and welcoming. It was almost as if they captured all of Este’s favourite things and stuck them within the same walls. She could only imagine how lively it must look in the sunlight.

“God, guys! This is lovely,” Matty gushed. “You shouldn’t have shown it to us, though. I think Este will just be mad that I haven’t let her decorate our whole house like this.”

The look on her face confirmed his comment, as Este sheepishly stared. “Can I move in?” Everyone laughed.

Making their way back to where all of the guests remained—mingling and chatty—Georgia poured them another. Matty bopped his head excitedly at the tasteful music and the loud conversation continued. Smiles were bright. The drinks were drank. But as the hour grew late, only the guests who were up for a fun night stuck around; while the few who stopped by to see the house and congratulate the couple began to fizzle out.

So, Este’s parents started to bid their goodbyes. They were planning on making a trip down to London to meet Keiko soon enough, so parting wasn’t as difficult as usual. Some last embraces were squeezed in as they prepared to take off, but before they could, the song erupting from the speakers caught Matty’s attention and encouraged him to hold Percy’s arm back for a moment.

“I don’t know what it is that you’ve done to me,”

SWV’s velvety vocals sung their classic song, Weak, and since Matty had always bonded with Este’s mother over their love for 90’s R&B, he couldn’t let her slip out before dancing with him first. She smiled giddily and took his hand as he guided her to an open space in the kitchen. Their socks on the spick and span tile allowed them to move freely, swaying and tapping their feet to the beat. He twirled Percy around, raising her hand that lightly gripped his up above her head.

They took turns serenading the lyrics to each other, Matty’s eyebrows furrowed with passion, fingers still laced together. Laughter was shared between them whenever the other did a particularly funny dance move or embarrassingly messed up the words. The smiles never left their faces, while Alfonso and Este watched from the door, smiling likewise.

“Can’t explain why your love, it makes me weak.” sounded the final line of the tune, Matty diverting his attention back at his girl as he sang it quietly. He sent a quick wink Este’s way afterwards, making her roll her eyes initially, but inevitably forcing a wide grin out of her while her stomach fluttered. Percy watched silently as her and Matty’s brief kitchen dance party came to an end, heart warm with adoration, physically feeling the love he had for her daughter—and vice versa. With her hand now folded in Alfonso’s, the couple wrapped up with a new round of goodbyes, and Cate showed them out.

-

When a handful more of drinks were eventually downed, it was shocking to suddenly hear the conversation turn professional. Cate found herself sitting next to Matty, her current higher up (the new album called for some extra brains for art direction and graphic design—so onto the team she came), discussing the importance of typography.

“I really like the idea of keeping the really simple and sophisticated serif text, even with tour merch. It’s chic.” she rambled.

He nodded, agreeing. “It’ll fit with the aesthetic, for sure. I did want to incorporate a couple of more grungier designs though. Maybe something hand-drawn or messy. More abstract, maybe.”

“Sure, sure. That makes sense to me. Patty may have some good material for those types of designs. A good balance between both should work out well, since—”

“You know you guys aren’t on the clock, right?” Este butted in, taking a sip of her gin and tonic.

Cate snapped out of it and her cheeks grew rosy. “Sorry,” she apologised, “But honestly, the North American tour starts in less than 3 months, and what’s already done for the singles and for festival season won’t even fill half of a headline merch table… So we’ve gotta crack on with it asap.”

“Then talk about it when you’re sitting in an office and can click around on your iPad, not when you’re pissed off champagne and hosting a house party!” exclaimed Georgia. The small circle of guests erupted in chuckled at her fair point. “I bet you two couldn’t quit the work-talk for more than 45 minutes,”

Matty raised his hands in the air defensively. “Hey, my work is my life. You know that, Georgia.” he said with a grossly confident and purposefully pretentious tone.

She rolled her eyes in response. “God, you’re the worst.” But, her hard and sarcastic facade broke when the two erupted into smiles and shoved one another in the shoulder gleefully. “Speaking of work though, why didn’t you bring any of the guys along? Don’t think I’ve seen them since we came down for Este’s birthday. Shame,”

“They’re all very busy boys,” answered Este. “And were gutted that they couldn’t make it tonight.”

Matty nodded, wrapping his arm behind Este’s shoulders and letting his hand find the back of her neck. His fingers weaved through the hair that covered it to gently caress the soft skin right below her scalp.

“They usually jump at the chance to come up to the city whenever they’re given a reason, so I guess they just don’t like you lot enough…” he joked.

“You better watch yourself, Healy. G might cut you off if you keep at it.” warned Cate humourously.

The warm conversation continued, though the couple of the night left frequently to mingle with the other guests. Any time it was just Matty and Este—when they knew nobody’s eyes were on them—he snuck small kisses onto the skin behind her ear. She sat her palm dangerously high up on his thigh, making her giggle after seeing how quickly his muscles tensed in reaction. The alcohol helped escalate the heat between them; but also allowed them to cool off almost immediately whenever Cate and Georgia ducked back into their attention.

Despite their consistent touchiness that persisted even through the Uber journey back to the Airbnb, they passed out cold as soon as they squeezed into the double bed that wasn’t theirs. The fact that they never seemed to party as crazy as they expected themselves to became increasingly frequent. Este liked to make fun of his age, always teasing that he had been handling his alcohol worse and worse (and going to bed earlier and earlier) as he progressed into his thirties; though she only trailed a couple years behind. So, Matty rolled his eyes when they snuggled tightly into the white sheets—both on the extremely tired comedown of being tipsy—and Este interrupted the silence filling the room.

“Is grandfather too sleepy or can I give you a kiss goodnight?

“Not after calling me grandfather, you can’t.”

-

13 August, 2022

Este awoke early the next morning, and Matty followed not long afterwards. He was still snoring when she first looked over at him, eyes peacefully shut and mouth slightly agape.

When she scooted upwards—now sitting with her back against the headboard—to scroll away on her phone, he felt her movements and internally whined at their lessening contact. To gain the comfort he craved at the start of each day, he rolled over to her and nestled his cheek next to her arm. Este quietly chuckled at his neediness and pulled her arm away; but only to use her hand to pet the stubble growing on his jaw, moving slowly up and down then back up into his messy hair.

Stopping for a second to quickly push her own hair to one side, not liking the sensation of it crowding her neck, she heard a low hum from Matty. He was clearly enjoying her touch.

“Morning, love.” said Este.

He groaned with exhaustion as a response, throwing his arm around her lap.

“You sleep okay?”

His eyes still hadn’t opened. “Surprisingly very well.” Matty squeezed out of his dry throat, words coming through with a low rasp.

She set her phone back onto the bedside table to give him her full attention. “Me too. I think it’s the tiny bed—forced us to cram closer together, and you keep me warm. Maybe we should downsize at home,” Este suggested, half-joking.

An eye finally peeled open, and then the other, and he saw her for the first time that morning. Este’s untamed hair was his favourite, immediately studying its waves and smiling to himself.

“It was cosy,” agreed Matty, sitting up to match her position, “Don’t you like having more room, though, You know, for other things?”

There was a twinkle in his eye, and a tone in his voice that she could recognise anywhere. So, she egged him on.

“Like… What kinds of things?”

Matty suddenly felt very awake. “Just the things I dreamt about last night,” he teased.

One step ahead of him, Este swiftly swung her leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Then tell me about them.”

He had the feeling she didn’t want him to actually tell her anything, as the very moment her words slipped out, Este’s mouth was on his. Slow, and gentle. Her hands cupped either side of Matty’s jaw, while his grazed under the hem of her shirt and felt up her back. She moaned into his mouth at his tender touch—rolling her hips back and forth lazily.

Matty peeled off the oversized tee that covered her, leaving only the thin cloth of his briefs and the lace of her knickers between their bodies. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see her grinding into him while he pulled his lips away from hers. Mouth wide and jaw slack, whining. He throbbed at the sight of it.

The feeling of his eyes on her turned Este on. How they were glued to her in a daze, with pure voyeuristic pleasure, as if it was the first time they were laid on her. She wanted to please Matty. Put on a show. So that he wouldn’t dare look away.

To do just that, Este continued using his crotch to get herself off, the bulge in his pants making perfect contact with her still clothed clit. She steadied herself—hand on the headboard—and whispered his name with desire while Matty’s hands inched forward to work at her chest. Her hardened nipples rolled between his fingers, making her shiver.

Reconnecting their lips, he slipped his tongue against hers while her hand trailed down the centre of his chest. It moved painfully slowly. But soon enough, Este took her hand into his underwear, gripping him boldly. The friction between them left him hard, and leaking. Matty gasped and shuddered when she pumped him a couple of times.

“Baby—“ he said against her mouth, his words hesitating to let a groan lowly, “The sheets. Will we have time to run the laundry before we have to leave?”

“They’ll wash ‘em.” Este threw out the short response, her head hazy and preoccupied with determination.

“What happened to wanting to be a ‘good guest’?” he taunted.

She climbed down his torso to slip his only piece of clothing down his legs, and he helped by kicking them off.

“Oh I’m a good guest alright,” she defended, kissing his upper thigh and still stroking his cock, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you nice and clean,”

Matty twitched at her words, not getting the time to think before her lips sunk down on him. He held himself up by his elbows, the muscles in his stomach making it hard to stay steady.

She took him in liberally, her nose almost coming in contact with his pelvis as he hit the back of her throat. “Fuck,” he moaned, watching Este’s eyes lock with his as she looked up through her eyelashes.

Swallowing around him and beginning to bob her head up and down, she squeezed her legs together. It grew increasingly wet in her panties, as she tasted Matty’s precum and witnessed his face twist in euphoria. A moan escaped and vibrated over him when she attempted at relieving some pressure by rolling her hips down onto the bed.

Este found a lazy rhythm, teasing him cruelly, making his hips rise with eagerness. Every time he buckled upward and his length grazed her throat, she moaned, driving Matty even crazier.

His chest heaved up and down when she pulled back, swirling her tongue around his tip, and using her hand to stroke his shaft. Este could see his eyes squeeze shut, brows furrowed in pain as she took him deeper once again.

“Stop,” Matty begged, “I don’t want to come alone,”

She didn’t protest. He dragged Este back up to straddle above his cock and kiss her hungrily, her face messy with spit, lips swollen from sucking him. His hand then found her clit, rubbing with perfect speed and pressure, drawing pornographic sounds out of her mouth.

“Matty,” she praised.

“Are you this wet just from taking me in your mouth?” Matty whispered against the skin on her neck. He licked and nipped at it, surely leaving a mark. The taste of what was left of last night’s perfume transferred onto his tongue.

“Always, for you,” Her voice was breathy and desperate. She couldn’t stand another minute of being empty, clenching greedily around nothing. “Just fuck me already.”

Este’s command had him obeying immediately, guiding his tip to her entrance and allowing her to slowly sink down onto him. His mouth fell open, feeling the tightness of her cunt envelope him in pleasure.

She sat there for a second, eyes shut in concentration. Matty filled her up graciously and hit every spot just the way she needed. Raising back up, then lowering down, Este began riding his length with her knees buried in the sheets. She rested her palms onto his inked torso to stabilise herself and persist at her skilled movements.

Matty watched her chest bounce repeatedly and bit his lip at the view he had from beneath her. The pink started shining through on Este’s cheeks, face hot and flushed from the pressure building in her lower stomach. Her skin glistened and was sticky to the touch. So was his. She brought up a hand to comb the hair out of her face, leaving it there and tugging at her own locks near her scalp.

“You look so fucking good—feel so fucking good,” Matty intensely complimented, through a groan, seeing her smile briefly and open her eyes to gaze down at him.

She felt her climax building as she continued using him to fuck herself. Este brought her right hand up to her clit, indulging in as much pleasure as possible to bring her there. Her pace was sufficient, especially for Matty—who sat, fucked out and a moaning mess below her—but Este wanted more. So, she began speeding up, still fingering furiously at her bundle of nerves, pushing hard and panting.

Wanting to make her feel good and give her knees a rest, Matty wrapped his arms around her to make her hips stationary. And without warning, he fucked upwards. Repeatedly, and relentlessly.

“Shit,” Este cried, “Keep going.”

He listened, twitching inside of her as he chased his orgasm too. The sound of his hips snapping up into hers boomed loudly through the room; now full of hot breath and the smell of sex.

Este gasped as he hit a spot deep within her that sent rushes of unwavering pleasure through every inch of her body, over and over. The combination of that and her fingers on her clit sent her over the edge, chanting a string of Matty’s name sensually into his ear, along with every word of profanity her mind brushed by.

She shuddered on top of him, beginning to go limp with exhaustion, but Matty didn’t stop. There was no chance for her to come down from her orgasm when his thrusts only grew harder and deeper.

His lip remained pinned between his teeth, pain written all over his face. With Este’s face now buried in his neck, overwhelmed by the sheer bliss of her climax and how Matty’s cock incessantly pounded into her sensitive post-orgasm core, he shut his eyes to bask in the sensation.

Every stroke brought him closer, and it grew harder and harder to keep up at his pace. Matty felt her tighten around him, making his thrusts grow distraught.

“I’m gonna come, E,” he muttered, voice shaky.

But right before he could (she knew his body so well that he didn’t even have to warn her for her to know), Este pulled off of him, springing downwards to take his whole length past her lips.

The sudden warmth of her slick mouth and vibration of the hum she expelled had Matty coming up her throat. She rose to let it spill onto her tongue, letting him watch the cum string out of his tip; but quickly closed her lips around him again, sinking back down and bottoming out.

Este kept him there for a couple of seconds as his moans slowed to a stop and he caught his breath. Then, she tightly pulled her lips off of his cock—cleaning up his seed, and swallowing it as promised.

“See? No mess.” Este said, a sheepish yet exhausted look on her face.

Matty forced her back up to lay on his chest, bringing her in for one last sloppy kiss. She tasted like him.

-

They then forced themselves out of bed, for the first time yet that day, to wash up and gather their things for the eleven o’clock checkout time. The shower ran only once, to bathe them both and save time, followed by Matty stuffing his dirty clothes back into his duffle bag. He then flipped on the kettle and sunk some pieces of bread into the toaster while Este pottered around, trying to leave the house exactly how they found it.

Matty carefully spread a thin layer of butter and then another of Marmite on each slice, setting aside two for Este and nibbling on the remaining two himself. They’d initially been rushing, thinking that what they had left to sort would take a while, but their single night in the Airbnb remained a fairly simple and effortless stay. There was still over an hour before they had to be out. So, Matty pulled open the book he was reading, actively trying to do so instead of spiralling on Instagram or chatting shit on Twitter (as of lately).

He waited for Este, assuming she’d hear the kettle go off and join him at the small kitchen table, but her footsteps creaked on the floor between the bedroom and through to the toilet instead of coming nearer.

“Darling, you should eat,” called Matty, listening for her response. He knew that by this time of the morning she’d be hungry.

Este’s ears perked, grabbing one last used flannel and throwing it into the dirty laundry hamper. Her empty stomach drew her round the few corners to reach the kitchen from the bedroom, seeing Matty sat with one leg folded over the other. He sipped on his tea, flipping a page to his novel, then felt her come into view.

She smiled at the small plate and cup of tea he arranged for her. “Look at you, making me toast.”

Matty chuckled, watching her take a bite. He then uncrossed his legs, welcoming Este to reach one of hers from her own chair and drape it across his. Crunches of toast could be heard, along with the swipes of his fingers across the pages of Mayflies.

“How’re you finding it?”

“It’s a beaut, so far. Feels sort of silly reading about stupid young lads causing trouble round Manchester. Bit too familiar. It’s like reading a caricature of my own life,” he responded with a laugh.

“Gorgeous writing though, don’t you think?” posed Este, leaving her bitten crusts on her plate with no plan of eating them.

Matty picked one up and tossed it into his mouth. “Oh, 100%. I mean, this one—where is it?” He began turning back to try and find a certain quote. “Here it is; ‘For a second I floated into privacy: the faraway mood of exhilaration that comes with excess, and I loved the excess, and loved the seeming permissiveness of that night. Who would I call, I wondered, if I stepped into the phone box? And the answer—so free of regret—was no one. I had no one to call and was quite glad about it.’ ” He braced his heart with his hand while reciting the text aloud.

She stood up and picked up their now empty plates, quickly rinsing them in the sink and setting them to dry.

“Absolutely lush,” Este reacted. “There’s a line that I haven’t stopped thinking of since I read it, where it says ‘They say you know nothing at eighteen. But there are things you know at eighteen that you will never know again.’ A quote like that can feel random with a moment that isn't necessarily retrospective—and this one isn’t—but something about its placement was so effective. Blew me away,”

He agreed, and went on. “I loved reliving the naivety of feeling like you have everything and everyone you need right where you are. Pure, proud friendships. How young and freeing is that? God, almost makes me emotional.”

A grin sat on her face. “I’m so tired of you being so profound about literature. Like, this is literally my job.” she complained. “Want to write for the column this week instead of me submitting my write up?”

“Pfft,” Matty shook his head. “You’re forgetting that I didn’t even pass my English GCSE.”

Wrapping up their small breakfast and doing a couple of rounds to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything, they eventually packed their stuff back into Este’s car boot and took off. Matty drove this time, agreeing before the trip that she’d do the journey in and he’d bring them back. But, before cruising onto the A5103 home to London, they headed into the city, to the northern quarter. There was one more stop to make.

Familiar pubs and shops filled them with nostalgia as they drove past and found a spot to park. They stopped a ways away from their destination, wanting to soak up the surprisingly tropical (for England, at least) weather and walk the rest of the way. Left, right, left, right, stepped their feet on the pavement in unison.

The silence they moved in encouraged Este to think about how rare the leisurely and quiet moments between the two of them would get as the year went on. She was grateful that she at least had the time off work to come along for their comeback shows in Japan for Summer Sonic. But, after that, Matty’s busyness would snowball, and by autumn, he’d be gone for months at a time to tour the new album.

“It’s sad that we won’t be able to do this for a while. When everything starts.”

Matty looked over at her, letting go of her hand to pull her into his side, wrapping her shoulder now enveloped by his arm.

“We’ve still got another week until Japan,” he pointed out.

“That’s no time at all, in my head. Plus, you’ll be swamped with more rehearsals all the way up until the day we leave.” she pouted.

“I know, I know,” said Matty, squeezing her briefly. “It’s going to be weird, too. Since we haven’t been on the road for quite a while. Been coddled by getting to have you around all the time.”

He wasn’t making her feel any better. “I’m going to miss you.” Este told him, even though he already knew.

“Don’t start missing me yet. I’m right here.” he said with a laugh as Este snuck her arm around his waist. Left, right, left, right. “Think of it like this—what did you say that one time, ages ago? We’ll be under the same sky, or whatever. Something cheesy like that.”

She bumped his hip at the sound of Matty teasing her, making him stumble slightly out of rhythm. But their feet found unison again.

“That was what, three years ago now? More? Your memory is scary.” Este commented.

“Hey—to be fair—those first days we spent together were like the best days of my life at the time. I thought about you saying that line to me for, like, months after it happened.” he added.

“Sap.”

A Starbucks rounded the corner and an elderly couple walked out. Este studied them as they approached; the man holding out a hot cup for the woman after propping the door open for her. She took it, linked her arm within his, and then took a sip.

Este expected to see her smile or thank the man, but instead a grimace appeared on her face.

“Taste’s shite, Harold.” The old woman complained.

Matty and Este held in their laughs and pretended that they didn’t hear it. Probably was the earl grey, Este thought, replaying the time she first introduced Matty to her grandmother, and how she talked of its flavour in distaste, much like the woman in front of them.

Their feet then carried them across the road. One of the signs on the corner of the intersection read Gore, the other Piccadilly. And they stepped into Greenhouse Books.

The orange carpet screamed with familiarity. Luckily, it was the time of day where Sam was still in—though preparing to head out upon the closer’s arrival—so he greeted them both with a warm hello (a tight hug for Este and firm handshake for Matty).

It was nearing three years since she bittersweetly resigned from the job she held dear to her heart, but also over eight since she’d first been hired. So, her and her ex-boss remained in touch, always up for a chat whenever Este was in town and eager to keep up with where her writing had taken her thus far. The shop was empty; so there they stood, hands still laced together, catching up with Sam. Though reminiscing and thinking of how long she spent revolving her life around Greenhouse made her feel a bit old.

Then, Matty and Este ventured into the shelves, separately, carrying out the purpose of stopping by; to buy a couple of books.

Matty sifted through each book carefully, picking one up with a loud green cover. Its art was charming and the poetic words across it jumped out at him, so he began to look further into it. But, after reading the blurb on the back cover, it seemed familiar.

He remembered that Este had reviewed it, back in June. Matty read every piece she wrote. She’d called it ‘cocky’, and claimed that the author wasn’t interested in his own characters. So, he shoved the lime coloured novel back into the gap left by him picking it up in the first place. One of the perks of loving someone whose opinions on literature were not only trusted by him, but also by a good chunk of the country who read the paper every morning, was that it helped him know which books to shove back in the gap and which books to give a chance.

This time of year was when the shelves were the fullest. Knowing that, Este felt eager to see some different titles instead of the ones she’d gotten to know so well. But truthfully, she realised that it had been a while since she actually knew the shop at all.

Its charm and ambitious spirit never changed—but plenty of books she remembered staring at years ago had inevitably sold, now no longer there. That’s how stores tend to operate, Este thought to herself embarrassingly. A couple of bays had swapped places. And her system for keeping the stationery supplies behind the counter organised had clearly gone out the window (which she noticed every time she came to visit and peered at its mess).

As much as being there made her miss the simplicity and comfort that Greenhouse served her for so long, it also only made Este prouder to be right where she was. How something so peaceful and passion-driven could grow to such a large scale. How it led her to the love of her life.

It felt liberating to have to search to find the poetry section. She couldn’t even recall where it had been back when she was still employed there.

Coincidentally, it was stationed right beside the small shelf of literary criticism that Matty had his eyes on. Her hand trailed horizontally along his lower back when she passed by to get to the desired genre, and she planted a kiss between his shoulder blades. They silently stood—side by side—with necks tilted to the right to read what each spine entailed. They browsed for a while, eventually witnessing Sam take off and leave the shop under one of his employee’s supervision.

She was a polite, bookish girl in her mid-twenties who had Matty and Este plenty of times over the years. So, when they finally had their picks in hand and walked up to the till, she sneakily (and as per her boss’s instruction) gave them a hefty discount. Este knew she would, and didn’t have the heart to protest, so she just purposefully paid in cash and rushed out of the door while shouting a grateful goodbye—not allowing her to give back any change. Chimes were heard as it opened and then shut again, one novel in each of their hands.

Then, with no exchange of conversation, they handed their book to the other. Matty’s for Este, and Este’s for Matty. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them—buying books with the other’s interest instead of their own—the endless stacks of novels upon novels living with them in their London home showing as evidence.

And as they walked away, Matty’s free hand found Este’s, the way it always did, and their once divergent stories continued to blend into one.

The End

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x oc #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 #matty healy fic #tbsg #matty healy smut #smut #Spotify

[hatari-translations]

Matthías interview on quitting Hatari - translation

Some sad news in Fréttablaðið today. The tl;dr is that Matthías is quitting the band to focus on being a father, but this is not necessarily the end of the band. Translation below the cut.

Matti quitting Hatari - trading in the leather suit for a dad sweater

[Image caption: Matthías holds his daughter Sóley on the photo on the right. He says the high point of his week is to see her dressed in this cute strawberry outfit.]

Musician, playwright and copywriter Matthías Tryggvi Haraldsson has decided to leave the band Hatari which he has worked with for the past few years. He aims to concentrate on being a father but says it's impossible to quell his creative spark.

"I basically realized when I became a professional singer that I get no real joy out of singing for people," says Matthías, who recently became a father. He says the fatherhood role has changed how he prioritizes his life.

"When you have a child you start to prioritize and you just have to do what you want to do," he says. Matthías currently works as a copywriter at advertising agency Brandenburg.

"Being a father in a 9-to-5 job is my primary objective right now. Of course, writing is never too far away. I've got a movie script churning away and another theater translation as well," says Matthías, who says it was a surprise that he'd ended up as the frontman of a popular band.

"It wasn't really ever the plan to become a singer. But of course Hatari was a fantastic idea and this doesn't necessarily mean the band is breaking up," says Matthías, who says the members of the band understood his decision and Hatari's fans won't have to despair, as the band will continue.

"It's a rollercoaster that has taken me places I never imagined a person could go."

The performance took on a life of its own

Hatari has for a long time been a name nationally known by both children and adults, especially after the band represented Iceland in Eurovision, which brought them international fame.

The band, which could be classified both as a traditional band and as performance art, quickly became known for its live staging and cool costumes. Matthías says the idea of the band took on a life of its own early on.

"It was performance art that kind of lived its own independent life and went faster than anyone could imagine or control. It just happened and took on a life of its own. It seems to have just been in the right place at the right time."

Diverse influences

The band originated with Matthías and Klemens Hannigan, who also sings in the band.

"It was really Klemens who was the reason we started doing anything to begin with. He sort of ordered me to scream something into the microphone the day we got bored of playing Civilization at his house," says Matthías, but also that he was writing a lot of poetry at the time, much of which made its way into the band's songs as lyrics.

"I was writing a lot of poetry at that time, and I was in a group of young poets that were a great inspiration to me. But also the band Laibach was always behind the ear," says Matthías. That band has been widely influential across a diverse flora of bands in the so-called "industrial" genre; among others, it was a great influence on the band HAM in its time.

Wanted to deceive the audience

Another thing that directed Hatari's creativity was their goal to deceive and defy the expectations of their audience, which was an effort to refuse to let the band be pinned down as one thing and gave them a lot of creative freedom.

"We were always trying, secretly and openly, to defy the audience's expectations. When we'd been stamped as a satellite of the heavy metal scene in Iceland, we went and cut off the long hair," says Matthías. Of course, this was also part of the band's role when it participated in Eurovision.

"The audience's expectations for Eurovision are of course as they are, and we perhaps don't exactly fit like a glove there," he says.

The warm blanket of late capitalism

Matthías has worked a wide variety of jobs over the years, both as a playwright, dramaturge and lyricist, but he also recently applied for a job as the programming director of Rás 1 [Channel 1 of the Icelandic state radio broadcaster].

"It's a radio station I have a great affinity and affection for, and I've previously made a radio series called Allir deyja [Everyone Dies]," says Matthías, who first got involved with radio as a news reporter.

"I've been a host at RÚV, but I first got involved with it through the newsroom when I was a news reporter. But I have strong feelings about the cultural role that the state broadcaster serves," he says.

When asked if it's hard to satisfy his desire to create in a traditional job, he says it is complicated but inspiration can be found in many places.

"The desire to create doesn't go anywhere, and I'm reading stuff in the evening after the girl's asleep and taking Fridays off and finding little chances where I can to work on scripts and translations and other things. The playwright and screenwriter doesn't die so easily," says Matthías, who also finds inspiration in his current job. "There's also creativity in writing advertisements for random companies. It's more fun than you might think, and especially in good company like I have at Brandenburg," he says.

When asked if the frontman of the anti-capitalistic band Hatari has now fallen for good for the ideology of libertarianism and market forces, he says so.

"I'm heading into the warm blanket of late capitalism," says Matthías who looks forward to experiencing its comforts. "All I crave now is safety, stability and disposable income to take vacations. Those are all ideas that were very alien to me less than a year ago. The rhythm of my life has taken kind of a U-turn, and I don't feel like taking weeks to rock and roll abroad fits into that new rhythm. But it was a fascinating experience to do it when I did."

#hatari #matthías tryggvi haraldsson #interview #translation

[static-symphony-fm]

flora's live ttpd reactions!

(putting this in one post so you don't get spammed)

fortnight

IT SOUNDS LIKE SLUT OH MY GOD

not enough post malone

less poppy that I thought but I LOVE it?

Taylor I'm concerned why do you wanna kill her

ttpd

I'm so excited for this one

ok so I was wrong that it wasn't gonna say the name of the song

it also kinda sounds like slut?

who are these people?

Charlie puth?

it's ok ig

I was excited for this but it's about Matty healy🙄

LUCY DACUS MENTION?

idk if that's how you spell her name

bridge is kinda clunky tbh

overall a little disappointing

my boy only breaks his favourite toys

OH THIS IS ABOUT JOE

I feel so b ad for all the hate he's gonna get

I like this one actually

Still not hating joe but this is BRUTAL

something about the melody feels familiar

down bad

Idk why it's purple

OH THIS IS ALSO ABOUT JOE?

sounds like midnights

this is a sad bop omg

NEW ROMANTICS REFERENCE? I'M GOING INSANE

she is MESSY and I'm here for it

so long London

am I gonna cry? maybe

I have to pee

ANGELIC CHOIR??!

yeah I'm gonna cry

oh my god...

such a track five fr

no I'm crying

amazing

but daddy I love him

this is apparently from the little mermaid

I think this about Matty

I like it!

not much to say

reminds me of suburban legends

SHE IS MESSY

fresh out the slammer

if this is about joe I'm losing it.

WAIT DID SHE CHEAT

WHO IS THIS ABOUT

confusion is an understatement

Florida

I love florence so I hope this is good

SO SHE DID CHEAT?

omg florence gets a verse?

Florida is one hell of a drug?

never been so I'll take your word for it

what the fuck is this about

guilty as sin

omg so much at once

I feel like she might have cheated?

omg this is dirty!!

Jesus reference?

whos afraid of little old me

omg she's angry!!

poor joe

reputation vibes fr

SO JOE CHEATED? huh?

SHE'S SCARY

ok I might be a Joe hater

SO JOE CHEATED?

THE ASYLUM?

WHAT IS THIS BRIDGE?

so this is about fans?

I can fix him (no really I can)

ok not loving loving it so far, but it might get better

did she steal the verse melody from need?

loml

WHAT DOES LOML STAND FOR?

it's so sad whattt

who is this about?

joe? probably

loss of my life??

I can do it with a broken heart

JOE CHEATED?

omg what?

this is so sad

but the melody is so happy

and I think that s the point?

so this is about tour?

the smallest man who ever lived

idk who this is about but it's BRUTAL

the alchemy

is this a love song?

yes

I actually love this one

PURE HEROINE REF?

Clara bow

So excited for this

IS THIS GAY?

or about her lol

is this the lucky one mixed with yoyok

STEVIE NICKS?

OH THIS IS THE ECLI PSE LYRIC

SHE SAIS TAYLOR SWIFT

OH IS THIA ABOUT HER REPLACEMENT

WTF

FAVORITE SOFAR

#d.j. flora's corner! 💐🎧🎙📻 #taylor swift #the tortured poets department

[drizzledrawings]

Mechanic! Mattie and flora would preform Johnny cash songs together

They both play guitarrrrr imagine them singing the jackson duet together (mattie as Johnny and flora as june)

#cowbians #cowboy lesbians #mattie and flora

[floras-imagination]

hi guys:)

I'm Flora🌻, 22 years old and I spent most of my time in my head and in my imagination, lol. I used to write imagines and fanfics on tumblr when i was 14 and I'm kinda in the mood for it again, so let's give it a try :P

I currently have a massive crush on Matty Healy, so I'm definitely going to write about him. But I also wanna write about Dylan O'Brien and George or Fred Weasley (this is such a weird combination, but yes i have a weird brain, and weird hormones. Sorry not sorry, xx )

Please send me your requests, I'd be very happy about some ideas:)

#fanfiction #matty healy #matty x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #george weasly x reader #request #harry potter #fanfic #fandom #writing

[coffee-at-annies]

63?

63. Flu Game by Fall Out Boy

Genuinely didn’t think there was any FOB this low on the playlist but I guess it makes sense since they’re all over this thing.

This one is trade fic. If I wanted to really hurt myself I’d write contract-gate-tanger-or-geno-don’t-stay-fic. But I don’t like reading those so why would I write one. I went back and forth on whether this was about Teddy/Jars or Flower and you picked Flower when I asked.

I guess to you now, I'm just a face in the crowd/ Oh, God, kindly please, would you kill me now?/ Late at night in my room, lie awake, think of you/ And all your little dooms

So since this is trade/breakup fic, imagine if you will, Flower that first year in Vegas - lying in his brand new bed, in his brand new city, playing for his brand new team - thinking about Matty back in Pittsburgh - in Flower’s net, starting for for Flower’s team. They definitely fucked during the two cups runs and it was bad and good and overwhelming and everything in between.

Last night I dreamt I still knew you/ Youuuuuuuu/ I carved out a place in this world for two/ But it's empty without you

Who is Flower now? What flora flourishes in the desert? Is that who he is now? A fucking cactus? All prickly and hurt and hurting others. Fuck that. Pittsburgh might be done with him but hockey isn’t and he’s going to make them - make Matty - regret it.

I got all this love I've got to keep to myself/ All this effort to make it look effortless/ All this love I've got to keep to myself/ All this effort to make it look effortless

He’s got a goddamned chip on his shoulder but he’s not the only one in the locker room with one and the team understands. They see where he’s hurting and how he’s hiding it and they get it. They support it. Support him. No one wanted them but at least they want each other. That bond leads to some fucking beautiful hockey, the kind nobody excepts from them, not the forgotten and the misfits.

He puts the team on his shoulders and smiles like his lungs aren’t full of thorns. Like there isn’t poison he’s swallowing with all the words he doesn’t say. He puts the team on his shoulders and they win they win they win.

Confront all the pain like a gift under the tree/ Oh, please, I can't be who you need me to be/ I grind in the sunshine, grind in the rain/ So real that I feel fakе

Then Pittsburgh comes to town. Pittsburgh comes and there Matty is in his net behind his team and oh it hurts. It hurts watch Sid’s across the faceoff dot or block a shot from Tanger at the point. It hurts to see Matty across the ice instead of on the bench backing him up.

After every whistle he wants to scream. Scream that it wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to retire a Penguins - penguins for life the way Geno promised Sid. It was supposed to be him and Matty backing the team to the threepeat and instead it’s him across the ice feeling the hollowness of facing his best friends and his former lover for the first time outside of practice and international play.

I got all this love I've got to keep to myself/ All this effort to make it look effortless/ Got all this love I've got to keep to myself/ All this effort to make it look effortless

But no - there’s hockey to play and he refuses to let the world see him falter. He can’t imagine what the homecoming to Pittsburgh will be like. What it’ll mean to skate to the visitors net at PPG Paints. He won’t let them see him flinch. He knows they’re looking. Sid’s pleased-to-see-him-but-concerned eyes following him around during warmups before he shut that part of himself away like the competitive bastard he is.

One day, every candle's gotta run out of wax/ One day, no one will remember me when they look back/ I can't stop, can't stop 'til we catch all your ears, though/ Somewhere between Mike Tyson and Van Gogh, oh, oh

They get close that year. Nobody expects them to make it to the playoffs the first year, let alone the finals but they do it. They fall just short, to the capitals of all the fucking teams. Geno may be happy for his countryman when he’s done licking his wounds but Marc won’t ever be so forgiving. So close to his third cup in three years and the immortality that comes with it and he wasn’t fucking enough.

I carved out a place in this world for two/ But it's empty without you

At the end of the day he’s still going home to his empty house and his empty bed and thinking about everything he lost.

Send me a number 1-100 + a pairing and I will tell you what song it corresponds to on my Spotify wrapped AND give you a 5 sentence summary of a fic based on that song

#asks answered #podcasts-8-my-heart #minor #flower/muzz #it disappeared in the flower trade angst and I didn’t feel like getting it back #flower #rpf mention #my fic #so yeah this started as breakup fic and transformed into breakup angst #god just when I think I’m done with my flower feelings I find the ground is soft and why not use the shovel thats conviently off to the side

[frettchanstudios]

Private commission to memorialize Acer the pet squirrel. I really enjoyed working on this piece and hearing all the cute stories about this little rescue. Prints will be available in the near future, DM or email if you're interested.

#squirrel #Indigenous Art #Frettchan Studios #Chantelle Trainor-Matties #digital art #illustration #northwest coast #First Nations #Native art #flora #fauna #rodent

[thecrazyworldbuilder]

Slightly changed common forenames

Aaron Ada Adam Adrian Adrienne Agnes Alan Albert Alberta Alberto Alex Alexander Alexandra Alexis Alfred Alfredo Alice Alicia Alison Allan Allen Allison Alma Alvin Alyssa Amanda Amber Amelia Amy Ana Andre Andrea Andrew Andy Angel Angela Angelica Angelina Angie Anita Ann Anna Anne Annette Annie Antoinette Antonia Antonio Antóny April Arlene Armando Arnold Artúr Ashley Audrey Barbara Barry Beatrice Becky Belinda Ben Benjamin Bernadette Bernard Bernice Bertá Bessie Beth Betsy Betty Betány Beulah Beverly Bill Billie Billy Blanca Blancé Bob Bobbie Bobby Bonnie Brad Bradley Brandi Brandon Brandy Brenda Brent Brett Brian Bridget Brittany Brooke Bruce Bryan Byron Calvin Camille Candace Candice Carl Carla Carlos Carmen Carol Carole Caroline Carolyn Carrie Casey Cassandra Cathy Catérine Cecelia Cecil Cecilia Celia Chris Christian Christie Christina Christine Christopér Christy Cindy Claire Clara Clarence Claude Claudia Clayton Clifford Clifton Clinton Clyde Cody Colleen Connie Constance Cora Corey Cory Courtney Craig Cristina Crystal Curtis Cyntûa Cád Cárlene Cárles Cárlie Cárlotte Célsea Céryl Céster Daisy Dale Dan Dana Daniel Danielle Danny Darla Darlene Darrell Darren Darryl Daryl Dave David Dawn Dean Deanna Debbie Deborah Debra Delia Della Delores Denise Dennis Derek Derrick Desiree Diana Diane Dianna Dianne Dixie Dolores Don Donald Donna Dora Doreen Doris Dorothy Douglas Duane Dustin Dwayne Dwight Earl Ebony Eddie Edgar Edith Edna Eduardo Edward Edwin Eileen Elaine Eleanor Elena Elisa Elizabeth Ella Ellen Elmer Eloise Elsa Elsie Elvira Emily Emma Enrique Eric Erica Erik Erika Erin Erma Ernest Ernestine Essie Estelle Estér Etél Eugene Eula Eunice Eva Evelyn Everett Faith Fannie Faye Felicia Felix Fernando Flora Florence Floyd Frances Francis Francisco Frank Franklin Fred Freda Freddie Frederick Gabriel Gail Gary Gayle Gene Geneva Genevieve George Georgia Gerald Geraldine Gertrude Gilbert Gina Ginger Gladys Glen Glenda Glenn Gloria Gordon Grace Greg Gregory Gretcén Guadalupe Guy Gwen Gwendolyn Ian Ida Inez Irene Iris Irma Isaac Isabel Ivan Jack Jackie Jacob Jacqueline Jacquelyn Jaime James Jamie Jan Jana Jane Janet Janice Janie Janis Jared Jasmine Jason Javier Jay Jean Jeanette Jeanne Jeannette Jeannie Jeff Jeffery Jeffrey Jenna Jennie Jennifer Jenny Jeremy Jerome Jerry Jesse Jessica Jessie Jesus Jill Jim Jimmie Jimmy Jo Joan Joann Joanna Joanne Jodi Jody Joe Joel John Johnnie Johnny Jon Jonatán Jordan Jorge Jose Josefina Joseph Josepûne Josúa Joy Joyce Joánna Juan Juana Juanita Judith Judy Julia Julian Julie Julio June Justin Kara Karen Kari Karl Karla Kate Kathleen Kathryn Kathy Katie Katrina Katérine Kay Kayla Keith Kelley Kelli Kellie Kelly Ken Kendra Kenneth Kent Kerry Kevin Kim Kimberly Kirk Krista Kristen Kristi Kristie Kristin Kristina Kristine Kristy Krystal Kurt Kyle Lana Lance Larry Latoya Laura Lauren Laurie Laverne Lawrence Leah Lee Leigh Lela Lena Leo Leon Leona Leonard Leroy Leslie Lester Leticia Lewis Lila Lillian Lillie Linda Lindsay Lindsey Lisa Lloyd Lois Lola Lonnie Lora Lorena Lorene Loretta Lori Lorraine Louis Louise Lucia Lucille Lucy Luis Lula Luz Lydia Lynda Lynette Lynn Lynne Mabel Mable Madeline Mae Maggie Mamie Mandy Manuel Marc Marcella Marcia Marcus Margaret Margarita Margie Marguerite Maria Marian Marianne Marie Marilyn Mario Marion Marjorie Mark Marlene Marsá Marsáll Marta Martin Martá Marvin Mary Maryann Mattie Mattéw Matéw Maureen Maurice Max Maxine May Megan Megán Melanie Melba Melinda Melissa Melody Melvin Mercedes Meredith Micáel Micéal Micéle Micélle Miguel Mike Mildred Milton Mindy Minnie Miranda Miriam Misty Mitcéll Molly Mona Monica Monique Morris Muriel Myra Myrtle

Nadine Nancy Naomi Natalie Natasá Natán Natániel Neil Nellie Nelson Nettie Nicole Nicólas Nicóle Nina Nora Norma Norman Olga Olive Olivia Ollie Opal Ora Oscar Pam Pamela Pat Patricia Patrick Patsy Patti Patty Paul Paula Paulette Pauline Pearl Pedro Peggy Penny Perry Peter Phyllis Priscilla Pûlip Pûllip Racáel Racél Rafael Ralph Ramon Ramona Randall Randy Raquel Raul Ray Raymond Rebecca Regina Reginald Rene Renee Ricardo Rick Ricky Ricárd Rita Robert Roberta Roberto Robin Robyn Rocélle Rodney Roger Roland Ron Ronald Ronnie Rosa Rosalie Rose Rosemarie Rosemary Rosie Ross Roxanne Roy Ruben Ruby Russell Ruth Ryan Rónda Sabrina Sadie Sally Salvador Sam Samantá Samuel Sandra Sandy Sara Sarah Scott Sean Sergio Seth Sidney Silvia Sonia Sonja Sonya Sopûa Sopûe Stacey Stacy Stanley Stella Stepánie Stepén Steve Steven Sue Susan Susie Suzanne Sylvia Sáne Sánnon Sári Sáron Sáwn Sáwna Séila Sélia Sélley Sélly Séri Sérri Sérry Séryl Sûrley Tabitá Tamara Tami Tammy Tanya Tara Tasá Ted Teresa Teri Terrance Terrence Terri Terry Tiffany Tim Timothy Tina Todd Tom Tommy Toni Tony Tonya Tracey Traci Tracy Travis Tricia Troy Tyler Tyrone Télma Téodore Téresa Tómas Valerie Vanessa Velma Vera Verna Vernon Veronica Vicki Vickie Vicky Victor Victoria Vincent Viola Violet Virgil Virginia Vivian Wade Wallace Walter Wanda Warren Wayne Wendy Wesley Willard William Willie Wilma Winifred Wûtney Yolanda Yvette Yvonne Zacáry Ánnah Árold Árriet Árry Árvey Áttie Ázel Éatér Éctor Éidi Élen Énrietta Énry Érbert Érman Ólly Ópe Óward Úgh Ûlda

#name list #names #naming characters #name #character name

[twstrhythm]

“Topsey turvey and upside down! It’s easy to lose your way. Confusing, isn’t it?”

Technical Information:

Name: Matthew Topps Nicknames: Clownfishie (Floyd); Monsieur Hat (Rook); Hatter (Ester); Red (Aaron); Matty Hatty (Sterling) Voice Actor: Yuki Kaji (Meliodas, Nanatsu no Taizai)

Biological Information:

Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Age: 17 Birthday: February 22 Star Sign: Pisces Height: 175 cm Hair color: Red Eye color: Blue Homeland: Queendom of Roses Family: Mother †; Father †; Aunt; 3 female cousins

Professional Status:

School: Night Raven College Dorm: Heartslabyul School Year: Second Class: 2-E Student Number: 22 Occupation: Student Club: Equestrian Club Best Subject: Biology

Fun facts:

Dominant hand: Left Favorite Food: Macaroons Least Favorite Food: Brussel Sprouts Dislikes: Squirrels Hobbies: Having tea parties Talents: Master tea maker

Appearance:

Matthew is a boy with long red hair that he keeps tied in a ponytail. He has deep blue eyes. Normally, he wears some sort of hat with any outfit he has. However, there are some cases where he cannot. He wears the standard school uniform.

Personality:

Matthew calls himself a people pleaser, but he could really do without interacting with other people. He prefers to have time to himself and to be alone. However, he tries to be patient with other people, but he can snap pretty quickly if someone is irritating to him.

Background:

Matthew doesn’t know very much about his own parents having grown up living with his Aunt. She had raised him as far as he remembers, but he still respects her. He had once asked her what happened to his family and had learned that they had died in an accident, but he was not given any information farther than that. Despite that, he is content with the answers he has been given.

Matthew typically tries to keep his Aunt and cousins in a good mood, so he was hesitant when he was accepted into Night Raven College. It took some time, but they were able to reassure him that everything would be alright if he went.

Skills and Abilities

Botanical Knowledge: Matthew knows a lot about different kinds of plants. He is aware of which plants are poisonous and which ones are not. He knows how to determine the ones that are safe for consumption.

Emotional Awareness: He knows how to read body language so that he knows what a person’s mood is. He uses this skill to avoid people who knows are in a bad mood or people who are too cheerful for his liking.

On the spot planning: He prefers to create plans on the spot rather than ahead of time. To him, that takes the excitement out of things.

Magical Skill: He is skilled in magic, particularly flora magic. He has great control over his magic, but he does not is not able to minimize damage done to his surroundings.

Unique Magic:

Matthew’s Unique Magic is known as To The Mad Tea Party. It randomly affects the things around him. This can vary from changing the size, color, or pattern of an object to changing the gravity of the area within a 5 foot radius of himself. He has no control over what happens and has trouble reverting things to normal.

Chant: "Things looking dull?  Come along now, I can show you some fun. Off we go, To The Mad Tea Party!"

Trivia:

Matthew is based on the Mad Hatter.

He has a whole hat collection.

At least one hat per outfit.

He doesn’t have one for his ceremonial robes.

He loves his cousins and Aunt dearly.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst male oc #male twst oc #oc: matthew topps

[sinfulpower]

sinfulpower --- a case study on unbalanced power dynamics & age gaps

this is a usfw-based rp blog (featuring dark & taboo themes) written by scout, who goes by they/he pronouns, is 22 years old, and based in edt / gmt-5. muse information can be found under the cut on this post.

rules.   open starters.   wishlist.   wanted pairings.

catherine superhalk, jessica chastain fc, 41-49, cis woman, seamstress, happily widowed (abusive husband died roughly 2 years ago from alcohol poisoning), bisexual, submissive, favorite kinks: blackmail, cheating, public sex (optionally: w/ cnc) , public masturbation (optionally: w/ cnc), tpe, free use, public free use, being shared, manipulation, large toys, pornography

+ gentle, cozy, comradely. 

- dull, sadistic, greedy.

mathias “matty” darth, oscar isaac fc, 39-47, cis male, graduate level art professor, bisexual, dominant, favorite kinks: pornography (optionally: w/ cnc) , object insertion, size difference, exhibitionism, shibari, somnophilia, partner swapping, group sex, restrictive rules, breathplay

+ creative, stable, supportive

- sneaky, egotistical, snide

felicity “flora” haynes, madchen amick fc, 47-54, cis woman, highschool teacher, married to joshua haynes, bisexual, switch, favorite kinks: threesomes, partner swapping, free use, double penetration, spit roasting, machines, overstimulation, orgasm denial

+ fanciful, prone to spoiling, instructive

-  cunning, dark, wicked

viktor payne, ben barnes fc, 36-44, father (6 y/o twins, cyrine seraphine payne and ali xander payne, reside in tunisia w/ mother), private security (former military, discharged @ 28, sergeant first class, works stateside--used to work overseas), bisexual, dominant, favorite kinks: free use as punishment, corruption, virginity taking, public humiliation, exhibitionism, pornography, anal

+  stable, entertaining, reliable

-  sadistic, egotistical, rigid

may lauren zhang, gemma chan fc, 35-43, trans woman, lawyer, lesbian, dominant, favorite kinks: taboo relationships, free use, humiliation, public humiliation, degradation, bondage, fisting, squirting, breathplay

+ hardworking, sporty, bold

- impatient, greedy, unloyal

joshua haynes, skeet ulrich fc, 48-56, cis male, engineer, married to flora haynes, heterosexual, dominant, favorite kinks: threesomes, partner swapping, cheating, free use, spit roasting, group sex, blackmail, cnc, taboo relationships, somnophilia, public humiliation, exhibitionism (optionally: w/ cnc) , public masturbation (optionally: w/ cnc) , tpe, free use as punishment, breathplay

+ stable, reliable, knowledgeable

- sadistic, dishonest, unyielding

rosalia soprano, ana de armas fc, 38-46, cis female, professional housewife, married to a multimillionaire, bisexual, submissive, favorite kinks: taboo relationships, cum marking, pregnancy risk, gangbang, partner swapping, pornography, tpe, orgies, public masturbation, use as a favor, pain play, corruption, public humiliation, degradation, edging, overstimulation, restrictive rules, permanent branding, free use, blackmail, fisting, squirting, anal

+ inspiring, giving, loyal

- ditzy, naive, easily manipulated

cesar gonzales, pedro pascal fc, 43-51, cis male, doctorate level social worker, queer, dominant, favorite kinks: creampies, breeding, risky sex, cheating, voyeurism, gangbangs, anal, pain play, throat fucking, breathplay, cum marking

+ intelligent, bold, giving

- sadistic, old-fashioned (relationship dynamics), rigid

yvette nieves, aubrey plaza fc, 31-38, cis woman, escort manager, widowed, bisexual, switch (primarily dominant), main kinks: permanent branding, temporary marking, public humiliation, public sex, public punishment, blackmail, pornography (optionally: w/ cnc) , free use, hazing

+ hardworking, invested, supportive

- manipulative, demanding, unstable

tedric “teddy” landis, adam brody fc, 38-46, english professor, single/never married, switch (primarily dom), main kinks: student/teacher, blackmail, bribery, exhibitionism, free use,

+ consistent, constructive, imaginative

- unyielding, threatening, narcissistic

claire fieman, mary elizabeth winstead fc, 33-41, cis woman, high-income/exclusive escort, divorced, queer, switch, favorite kinks: spitting, degradation, risk of pregnancy, risk of being caught, cnc, tpe, hair pulling, blackmail, being bought as “a gift”, body worship (receiving)

+ exhilarating, lavish, daring

- noncommittal, flighty, dissmissive

bernadino “dino (DEE-no)” coyne, oliver jackson-cohen fc, 31-39, father (former teen parent), construction manager, divorced, heterosexual, switch (90% dominant, only bottoms for short spurts or for neurotic/dangerous women), favorite kinks: daddy kink, taboo relationships, breeding, public sex, squirting, body worship, hair pulling, free use, overstimulation, knife play, pain play,  tpe, gangbangs, object insertion, spanking, temporary marking

+ friendly, kind, cozy

- disloyal, violent, prone to anger

chloe helena, rachel mcadams fc, 39-47, cis female, city councilmember, divorced (has a former step-daughter), bisexual, switch (primarily dominant to women), favorite kinks: partner swapping, throat fucking, size differences, no foreplay, body worship (giving), double penetration, gang bangs, sexual favors, knife play, sex clubs, humiliation, breathplay

+ inspiring, giving, loyal

- wandering, bored, rebellious

virgil mciverson, milo ventimiglia fc, 40-48, cis male, father, former us national soccer player-- current coach for us national team, bisexual, dominant, favorite kinks: permanent marking, cheating, breeding, squirting, fisting, gangbangs, hazing, cnc, taboo relationships, being caught, exhibitionism, pornography (willing or coerced), caning/flogging, spanking

+ personable, friendly, well-versed 

- untrustworthy, narcissistic, violent

naomi bryn lee, tessa thompson fc, 34-42, nonbinary afab, single mother, bisexual, switch, favorite kinks: corruption, first times, temporary marking, fooling around in cars, risk of being caught, taboo relationships, cock warming

+ energetic, entertaining, amusing

- sneaky, confronting, unwearying

#pinned post ⁂ ooc. #ramblings ⁂ ooc. #answered ⁂ ooc. #promos ⁂ ooc. #updated: 6/17/22