It Ticks Me Off Sometimes When Y/N Doesnt Mind Her Business Or Respect Boundaries Like If They Dont Want

It ticks me off sometimes when Y/N doesn’t mind her business or respect boundaries… like if they don’t want you coming into the room stop trying to force your way in etc it’s hella cringe

hii can i request a young matthew lillard x black curvy fem reader ? a classic best friends to lovers type of thing. only if it’s not a problem ❤️ thank uuu

Matthew Lillard x Chubby Black Reader

Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers trope, drunk people, the 90s

A/N: Matthew Lillard is criminally underrated and I've never seen a fic about him. Justice for Matthew.

A/N: I have never seen a Matthew Lillard fic on here which is insane because he's amazing. There are a lot of references here so sorry in advance.

Matthew has been your best friend since you started elementary school. On your first day at the new school, he was the only one who talked to you. You two had been inseparable since then. When Matt told you he was going to pursue acting you were a little skeptical that he was actually going to make it in Hollyweird, but just a few years later he had a major role in Serial Mom. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you had a famous best friend. You were worried he might forget you once he got big but he always kept you by his side. You were his date to every premiere and the first thing he bought with his newfound money was the car you’d been raving about since you two were in high school. Of course that started rumors that you guys were a couple. He never confirmed or denied the rumors which added more fuel to the fire, but it also made you realize how much you really did like him. He’s a goofy dumbass you can’t help but love. 

You always thought he liked you too. The long looks he would give you while you were talking, the overprotectiveness, and the slight hint of jealousy he had when you had a boyfriend all added up to him having a big ole crush on you. You were too afraid of rejection from someone you care so much about to even ask. Your love might just stay unrequited forever.

----------

*Ring Ring* 

You walk over to your home phone and answer it.

“Hello?”

“It’s Matt, I’m coming over. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“Ugh, dude it’s eight at night.”

“Chill out, I’ll bring dinner see ya.”

You put the phone back on the base and decide to look somewhat presentable. You take off your bonnet and pick out your almost completely flattened afro. Matthew always jokes that you look like a Black Panther when you have your natural hair out. You head back to the kitchen and turn on your Sony Trinitron TV. The reruns of Transformers are the only interesting thing you could find after flipping through the channels.

You hear Matthew’s signature knock at your front door and open it to see him towering over you with a serious case of bedhead and McDonald's and a plastic bag full of clothes in tow. You step aside to let him inside your tiny apartment. He passes by you, making the black power fist with a stupid grin on his face.

“I hate you,” you say, giving him a smack on the back as you go to sit on the floor in front of your tv. Matthew joins you with a bag full of nuggets and fries with two Sprites on the side. 

“So, what was so important you had to disrupt my night just to tell me?” you ask while dipping your nuggets into ranch.

“I want you to go to a party with me.”

"Why didn't you tell me over the phone? I'm not dressed!"

"The party doesn't start until ten."

"That's not enough time for me to be ready," you whine. You use his shoulder to leverage yourself off the ground and scurry off to your bedroom to find your best outfit.

You manage to find a tiny black silk spaghetti strap dress in your closet. As you put it on you notice you've gained some weight and your stomach and butt are prominent in the dress.

"Hey Matt, can you come here for a sec?" you yell out into the hall. Matthew shuffles from the living room wearing a black blazer and matching pants with a navy blue collared shirt and a simple chain necklace. 

"Yeah?" His lips are wrapped around the straw of his Sprite as he looks down at you through his lashes. Your cheeks start to warm under his stare.

"Does this dress make me look fat?"

"I mean it's a little tight but I think you look amazing. Solid ten out of ten from me." He gives you a little thumbs up of approval. "Eat your food, we're gonna get crunk tonight."

"Don't ever say 'crunk' again." 

You finish the rest of your food during the drive. City skylines pass the car as Matthew drives farther and farther out of LA. Eventually, you reach a massive house with expensive cars coming in and out of the driveway. 

You step out of the car and walk arm-in-arm with Matthew into the noisy home. You're bombarded with the sound of Boyz II Men and loud talking. As you step further into the house you see all types of celebrities lounging around or dancing. 

"Holy shit is that Johnny Depp? He's even hotter in person." You can't help but stare in awe at everyone around you. Despite being friends with a celeb, meeting famous people always amazes you.

"He's not the good looking," Matthew scowls. 

"Awe you're jealous." You playfully punch him on the arm, looking up at him. He avoids your gaze by looking over the crowd for someone.

"Matthew!" A man who looks like he could be Johnny Depp's brother emerges from the crowd.

"Skeet, good to see you," Matthew replies, giving the man a short hug.

"Who 's your gorgeous friend?" Skeet asks, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it. Matthew instinctively wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"This is Skeet Ulrich. He's one of my costars for an upcoming film," he says looking down at you. "And this is my childhood best friend. She's been with me since the beginning," he remarks looking at Skeet.

"You're a very lucky man. Ay come back here for a sec, I want to talk to you about the movie." The boys walk off together but not before Matthew reminds you to not ‘get wild’.

Three shots of Vodka later you're dancing with a guy who looks suspiciously like Ethan Hawke. You drunkenly bump and grind against him as you feel the music moving through your body. Matthew looks over at you from a couch in the corner of the room, his eyes burn into you. He stands up and calmly walks over to you, tugging out of the back door of the house.

“W-what the heeell Matt?”

“What? I’m not the one grinding on guys and getting shit-faced.”

“I’m nooot even druunk.” Matthew lets out a sarcastic laugh before moving to walk away. You stumble after him but trip on your heel. Matthew catches you before you hit the ground and sits you on the porch. 

“I’ll get you some water.” He leaves you outside staring up at the stars. If you could think straight you’d probably be able to think of an apology to give him but you’re not actually sorry. You were enjoying yourself for once and Matt just had to ruin it for you with his protectiveness. He refuses to admit to liking you but won’t even let you be in the vicinity of another man with asserting dominance over you, which you really hated.

Matthew comes back with two glasses of water and sits down next to you.

“Listen, I’m sorry about grabbing you. I didn’t want someone to take advantage ‘cause you’re drunk, y’know?” He hands you the glass and you take a few sips.

“Enough with the big brother shit. I’m tired of you treating me like I always need saving. I’m also tired-” Matthew cuts you off.

“I really like you and I hate it when you flirt with other guys. And I know we’re not even together but it hurts and I'm a huge coward for not just asking you out but I’m terrified of ruining our friendship. I promise I won’t be weird and possessive, I didn’t even really mean to do that.” You look at him for a moment, just admiring him for all that he was. 

“You like me too?”

“Wait you like me?”

“Duuh I thought that was obvious.”

“No it wasn’t, I thought you saw me as like an older brother or something.”

“I said you act like one because you’re so protective. How long have you had these feelings?”

“Since high school maybe. How ‘bout you?”

“ I don’t even know. It feels like it was always there and just kinda realized it.” Matthew slides his hand over to you, palm up. You interlock your fingers with his. His hand is soft and smooth with no imperfections, a stark contrast to yours, which are rougher and covered in little marks. Matt brings your hand to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss before holding it to his heart. He looks over at you, love sparkling in his eyes.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Woah cowboy, you haven’t even asked me on a date yet.”

“But dating suucks and I already know everything about you.,” he whines.

“No date, no girlfriend.” Your head starts fizzing in your skull as you stand up a little too fast. Matthew joins you by the door.

“Deal, but I get to choose where.” His mischievous smile is plastered on his face.

“You’re gonna make us go somewhere really stupid aren’t you?” you say exhaustedly.

“You’ll just have to wait and see. Ladies first.” Matthew makes a sweeping motion as he opens the door for you. You walk back into the noisy house passing all of the drunk and high celebrities doing sloppy dance moves to their own rhythm. Matthew walks next to you, the delinquent grin still on his face. What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: I used to have a Sony Trinitron tv and I’d always watch Transformers on it. 

I watch this video at least twice a day! So much talent all in one and I agree with the smashing young Cab Calloway he is definitely fine as wine

The blessed time of Cab Calloway of his orchestra and his extraordinary dancers.

(Put on sound)

My personal thoughts on Black x Readers as an African American

You know something that I constantly wonder about? How most (insert character here) x Black!Reader's are usually dark smut fics.

Like I go to look for a fluffy fic and all I find is y/n getting railed in their sleep non-consensually! These stories always have a bittersweet twisted ending. Now if that's your thing go off but NOT IN EVERY S I N G L E STORY! You don't look up x black!reader smut non-con you just look up x black!reader and that's all that's there.

In my experience of searching AND I HAVE BEEN SEARCHING, most of the time the fic doesn't even mention the reader being black or only gives like 1 description like "y/n's luscious black curls" AND THAT'S IT!

Most of the time the tag x Black!reader feels more like just a tag to get reads rather than an actual attempt at creating more representation!

The thing that I think gets under my skin the most is the fact that most of the stories are FULL of stereotypes about African Americans! The tags almost always have the Daddy kink, choking kink, spit kink, Drug use, toxic relationships, abuse of some sort! Or there are like 40 tags of black Y/n getting SPECIFICALLY violently fucked!

OR the story points out how y/n "picked out her huge afro and put on her large hoop earrings" or "y/n put on their Air Jordans and went to see their baby daddy for the child support that he owes" (I'M SERIOUS)!

I just wish that there was more appropriate representation in the x reader community rather than the few good stories that we are given. BECAUSE TRUST ME there are some really good cute ones that have fluff or romantic smut or getting railed BUT that's not the WHOLE DAMN STORY (and even if it is it's done in a respectful manner!)but there are so few.

And I can already here the argument "WELL, WHY DON'T YOU CREATE SOME REPRESENTATION YoURSeLf!" I will. Not much will change if I only complain about it and I am aware of that BUT it is not my responsibility to create every peice of representation that appropriately represents my community.

One peice of positive representation versus 100 peices of "representation" can only change but so much.

But then again that's why I'm writing this post if I want to see change the first thing I have to do is at least bring attention to what I see as the issue.

But what are your thoughts on the issue?

I absolutely love “in this together” series and I would just love for a short little something about the first night that Tommy came back from war and how these two reacted to the changes they went through over the years and how they still do love each other!! Thank you for reading xx

I love this idea! I have never actually thought about that! I had to write this!

Welcome Home,Soldier!

Pairing -Thomas Shelby and Reader (In This Together)

Note- I have made them a bit younger. Tommy is meant to be 29 is Series one.

Staring at the cold cup of tea, in front of you. You pushed it away. Ignoring the hustle and bustle of the noise, from the betting shop. Today was the day.

The day.

The day, you had been waiting for. And hopefully, Tommy had been waiting for too.

Until Christmas, they had said. The war would only last, until Christmas. How very wrong they had been. Four long years, worry, heartache, tears cried into your pillow. Lots of soldiers hadn't even made it home.

That could have easily been your Tommy... It didn't bare thinking about.

Two years you had been together, before he was sent away. Well officially, after growing up together. Hiding the fact, that you liked each other. Tommy could have any woman.

He had plenty of women, before you. Bed warmers, he would call them.

Until the night, he saw you….

With Michael Farrington, of all people! He was your first kiss, when you were at school. You would never forget it, the look of hurt on Tommy's face.

The look of shock. You with another man!

After casually sleeping together, on and off for six months. Tommy had offered you no commitment. So, you took Michael up on his offer of a date.

Much to Tommy's disgust.

It was the same night, he had declared his love for you. You had only been eighteen, at the time. Tommy was two years older than you. But, had always been very mature.

Now, you were twenty four. You had changed, since Tommy left. Grown up, had to be independent. Work in the betting shop. Develop a thick skin. Your body had changed too.

You were a woman.

Had Tommy changed? Would he still want you?

"Plaster a smile, on your bloody face," Polly announced, shoving your shoulder. Stopping in her stride, she looked you over. "Go and put some lipstick on, a nice dress,"

Dragging yourself up, you glared back. "I'm not dressed yet, Pol. Will everything be ok? Please tell me..... I'm worried,"

Taking hold of you, she pulled you into her embrace. "That boy loves you, you love him. Everything will work out. But.... yes, it will be different,"

She wasn't going to lie to you. Having heard stories of men, coming back from war. Mentally damaged, physically damaged. Polly didn't know what to expect either. Would her boys be the same?

Eventually standing in the train station, Finn holding your hand. You felt sick, nerves bubbling away. Three trains had come and gone. The boys weren't on either of them. What if they weren’t coming back ?

Had something happened to them? Had Tommy decided to stay? Met another woman?

"How much longer?" Finn moaned.

Ada sitting on the closest bench, eating a packet of sweets. "I don't know Finn," you answered, glaring at Ada. Yet another train pulled up, as Ada stood abruptly.

You knew about her and Freddie. Would it continue after the war, though? "Don't want to smell like a sherbet lemon, do you?" you winked. Causing Ada to hand the sweets to Finn.

Getting swept up in the crowd of people, in the station, You held onto Finn. Slowly making your way forward, you looked through the crowd. Standing on your tiptoes, trying to see a face you recognised.

There he was, your Tommy. Catching your eye, he smiled. He looked so different, more manly. In his uniform still, and his hair was longer. Bag strewn on his shoulder.

"There's Tommy," you told Finn, through choked emotions. Now frozen to the spot, unable to move. Just staring at him through the crowd. As he stared back.

It felt like you were dreaming …

The moment had finally come true.

“Tommy!” Finn yelled, racing through the crowd. His little legs carrying him towards his brother. Bending, Tommy scooped him up in one arm.

“Look at the size of you, ey!” He commented, shaking is head in disbelief as he held his youngest brother.

Finn had only been six when they left, he was now ten. Ruffling his brothers hair, he placed him back down. Throwing his bag, as he strolled towards you.

“Tommy….” You breathed out, tears rolling along your face. “I’ve … I’ve missed you,”

His lips connected with yours, arms wrapping around you. You swore you had never been hugged, that tightly before. It was like your bodies, were two missing puzzle pieces.

Finally fixed together.

"I've missed you too, love. Every fucking day!" pressing a kiss to your lips, he stroked your cheek. "Are you ok?"

“Me?” You gasped, “It’s you, I’m worried about. I can’t believe you are actually here,” Falling into his arms again, you let him hold you. Just standing on the platform.

Eventually pulled away, you were dragged into Arthurs arms. And, you all made your way back to Watery Lane. Tommy not letting go of your hand, you noticed he was quiet.

But after such a long time away. It was a lot to take in. Back to reality, back home.

Sitting in the Garrison, he wasn’t joining in with all of the men. Instead, sitting with you drinking his whiskey. You did most of the talking, as he stared at you. Occasionally nodding.

“You’ve got more beautiful, Y/n Y/L/N,” he stated. “How is that possible, ey?”

Blushing, you leant against him. Desperate for his touch. “Is this the whiskey talking?” You grinned. In the back of your mind, was the burning question.

Had he cheated ? Had he been with any French girls? Four years was a long time, and well… could you blame him? You knew all of the other men would be.

No.. you would rather not know.

“Not the whiskey, no. You seem so different,” he announced, eyes still focused on you. “You’re a woman now,” He let his eyes drift to your breasts.

The lonely nights in the trenches, he had looked at your picture. Wishing you were there. Wishing he could hold you.

“Do you still want me, Thomas?” Your eyes filled up, with unspilt tears.

“Of course, I do. I love you, Y/n. Let’s get out of here, ey?” He grinned, pulling your hand to stand up with him….. There was lots of making up to do.

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YES IN THIS HOUSE WE STAN B-15