#50s lounge music

[emvisual]

Es viernes: cena y música.

Hoy un poco de Kay Star, no todo iba a ser EDM y trip hop. Una canción romántica donde las haya para acompañar la cena. Se titula Nevertheless (I'm in love with you).

Hay versiones que suenan mejor, pero yo me quedo con esta.

*https://youtu.be/v1EBUQrG7jg

[incorrectbatfam]

Rating mental breakdown spots in Gotham

Gotham subways: 5/10. Can blast emo music through your headphones. Train occasionally stalls. Other passengers too burned out to notice you. 

Gotham U: 10/10. You're likely not the only one. School mascot hands out free tissues. 

Batburger: 8/10. Semi-public depending on seating. Tears make the fries soggy. Line cooks are wrestling in the background. 

Crime Alley: 0/10. People think you're drunk. You're a prime mugging target. Kids laugh at you.

Sewers: -2/10. Smells bad. 50% chance of Croc attack. 

Iceberg Lounge: 3/10. Judgy rich snobs. Bathroom full of people doing coke. Drinks too expensive to drown yourself in. 

Wayne Gala: 4/10. Also judgy rich people. Must dress formally. Can't stick your head in chocolate fountain. Dick Grayson will become your therapist whether you like it or not. 

[o-the-mts]

50 Years, 50 Albums (2004): Nouvelle Vague

I will turn 50 in November of this year, so my project for 2023 will be to listen to and review one album from each year of my life, 1973 to 2022.  The only qualification is that it has to be an album I’ve not reviewed previously.  If you have any suggestions for albums from the past 50 years, please drop them in the comments! 2004 Top Grossing Albums of 2004: Confessions – Usher Speakerboxxx /…

[stevehours]

drinking game

steve harrington x fem!reader

18+ minors dni, drinking, smut

wc: 4.4k

As far as first dates go, this is the lamest one you’ve been on. Which you’d somewhat anticipated when you agreed to it. Steve Harrington is a couple years younger than you. The kid’s barely twenty. But he is incredibly handsome and well, it’s been awhile for you. Steve’s wooing skills haven’t graduated high school, like he has. He insists on picking you up, gets to show off the car his daddy bought him. It is nice. Must’ve cost a fortune when he was gifted it on his sixteenth birthday. The damn thing has a telephone in it. Power seats and windows. And the seats heat up, he tells you. Though in the middle of August, it’s not really necessary. It has great speakers, proven by the cheesy, 70’s baby making music he’s blasting from them. You can’t imagine Steve actually listens to this, but that it’s an attempt to get you in the mood.

He brings you to a diner for dinner where he tries to share a milkshake with you and then it’s a trip to the drive-in movies. It’s ripped out of the 50’s. Especially the part where he tries to make out with you, which okay, yes you indulge in until he grabs a handful of your breast.

“Alright, Romeo,” you laugh, pushing him back, “Cool it down a little.”

“Sorry,” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and settles back into the driver's seat. His cheeks are ruddy, either with embarrassment or arousal, you aren’t sure.

“It’s fine—“ you tell him and adjust your blouse, “It’s kind of cute.”

“You’re really pretty,” he blurts out, smiling and it does make you giggle. But you feel a little childish right after, so you shove his head and tell him to keep watching the movie.

Must be a win for Steve because that saccharine smile doesn’t leave his face.

After the movie, he starts driving but not in the direction of your apartment. He glances at you, “I’m having a really good time. Would you be up for maybe coming back to my place? For a drink or something?”

“Your place?” you snort, crossing your arms but you’re already convinced.

Steve blushes again, “Well, I live there. My parents are like, barely home. Business trips and stuff.”

“Alright, Harrington,” you shrug, “It’s early. Let’s do it.”

—

“It’s called Flip, Sip or Strip,” he says, holding up a quarter and looking at you under hooded eyes.

You cackle, fingers delicately holding the crystal wine glass that’s definitely worth more than anything you own. You didn’t know Steve’s parents were so loaded, though the car should’ve been the indicator. The pair of you are sitting in the living room of the Harrington home. It’s so intricately designed, the entire house following the same decorative theme. And it’s remarkably clean for a place a young man lives alone 75% of the time. You wonder if there’s a housekeeper that comes and cleans up after Steve.

“You want to play a drinking game?” you scoff, crossing your legs and you don’t miss the way Steve’s eyes follow the movement.

“You’ve heard of it, then?”

“Not since freshman year of college but, sure, let’s play,” you placate him, leaning back in the chaise lounge. In the back of your mind you’re wondering why expensive furniture is so uncomfortable. Steve scrambles from the equally looking stiff couch, opening what you can assume is his parents liquor cabinet. Under the record player that plays that same cheesy, romantic 70’s R&B he was blasting in the BMW.

He sets two glasses and a bottle of tequila on the coffee table and then pats the cushion next to him on the couch.

You raise an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t it be better to stay here? So you can actually see me?”

“Good point,” he grins excitedly and then says, “You first. Call it.”

“Heads,” you slur in a sultry voice, smirking at the way he looks back at you all slack-jawed.

Then Steve flips the coin in the air, catches it in his palm and slaps it on his forearm. He uncovers it and gets this real mischievous smile on his face. He doesn’t even have to announce it, you know the coin is tails up. You laugh and lean forward to grab the bottle of tequila, pouring yourself a small shot and downing it with ease. Then you extend your palm out and Steve hands you the coin. You watch him expectantly until he says, “Tails.”

You flip it, catching it in your hand and flipping it onto your arm. You giggle as you uncover it, wiggling your eyebrows at Steve when you tell him, “Heads.”

He shucks off his coat, tossing it behind him and making grabby hands for the quarter. You roll your eyes as you drop it into his hand and tell him, “Heads.”

Steve flips the coin and then his face scrunches up in disdain, “Heads.”

You snatch the coin from his hand as you cackle triumphantly. A few more rounds go on, you take off your heels with Steve’s eyes glued to your feet and he takes a shot. Then you’re challenged again to either take a drink or remove another bit of clothing. And you’re honestly feeling that shot of tequila so you’d rather not take another so quick. Hence, your tights come off. Steve watches the motion and chews on his bottom lip.

“You a virgin, Harrington?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together.

He laughs, almost offended as he shakes his head, “Far from it. You’re just too good to look at. Anyone tell you that you could be a model?”

“Flattery will get you almost anywhere. Heads or tails, big boy?” you smooth your thumb against the warm quarter.

He guesses correctly, but you don’t on your turn. And so off comes your blouse. Steve spreads his legs across from you, hands smoothing down his jeans as he grins salaciously at you. He incorrectly guesses tails and then pulls off his polo, exposing this jungle of chest hair you’re shocked by. A smug smirk spreads across his lips as your mouth hangs open. And he’s got all these moles decorating his gorgeous skin like constellations. He combs his own fingers through his chest hair and leans back on the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Still has his Nikes on.

You scowl as you throw the quarter at him, “Heads.”

And you lose, but you opt for another shot as you feel far more exposed than Harrington is.

A few more rounds leads to you both pleasantly buzzed and in your underwear.

“This game is stupid,” you decide when you incorrectly guess again.

Steve giggles and tosses the coin on the coffee table, “That’s okay. I’d rather take those off myself anyways.”

You hate that it works, makes your thighs warm up with dull arousal as you take your eyes over Steve’s body. He’s lean, soft but very faintly muscular. And those moles go all over him. All the way down to his feet. You heave a sigh and stand from the chaise lounge, stepping in between Steve’s legs and grabbing a hole of his square jaw. He blinks up at you, mouth ajar with fucking stars in those round, brown eyes.

“You have a really stupid, cute face,” you tell him, pushing his thick hair off his forehead.

“Uh, thanks?” he replies and you straddle his lap, pushing both hands into the waves of chestnut hair. You look at it, eyes narrowing.

“Do you have highlights?” you ask.

“Naturally— from the sun and—“ he starts but you interrupt him.

“Bullshit,” you grab onto his jaw again, “You get highlights in your hair.”

“No, I don’t,” he narrows his eyes and you completely seat yourself on his lap, feeling his erection press against your ass. You grind down on it and he lets out a gargled moan, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“You do,” you tell him and then get your lips on his jaw, feeling the subtle stubble against your face. You lick against his jawline, pushing your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to give you more room. You begin kissing down his neck and his hands grab onto your hips, guiding you up and down against his strained, hard cock. The whole hair argument is completely forgotten by Steve, his hips jerk weakly as he leans his head back and lets out these pretty, soft sounds. The kind of sounds that make your stomach fill with excited, horny butterflies.

You mark up his neck, the skin purpling from your pleasurable abuse. Suck and bite until bruises form and Steve’s whimpering underneath you. You relent on his neck, pulling his head back to look at you as you writhe against him. His hands skate up your sides and back down, landing on your ass and pushing you harder against his erection. And you get a real good look at his pretty face. His eyes tilt down slightly at the ends and they’re so full of desire. Wonderfully expressive and beautiful. You look up at his brows, smiling to yourself as you notice they’re manicured, just ever so slightly. This man takes care of himself. More than most. His complexion is remarkably smooth. You drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose to the tip, smiling at the sharpness of it. Then you settle your eyes on his lips as they quirk up into a smile, he likes how you’re looking at him. Admiring him. His lips are plump, pink from the way he’s been biting at them all night.

“You’re pretty,” you whisper, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip and he kisses the pad of it. Sending your stomach ablaze as you roll down on him a little firmer.

“You’re prettier,” he replies, voice husky.

“How come you don’t have a girlfriend?” you ask, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I haven’t asked you, yet,” he tells you, smirking as he smooths his hand up your back to your bra. Unclasps it with two fingers, impressing a gasp from you and he smiles, straight and white teeth on display.

You help pull the straps from your arms and discard the lacy fabric aside, wrapping your arms around his neck again and then leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. You don’t think too much about what he’d just said, this is fun and you’ve just met. This is the first date, you barely know each other. But while this started out as a lame date, you feel uncharacteristically smitten at this point.

Steve kisses like he needs it. Hungry. Like his oxygen supply comes from your lungs and he’s been suffocating all night. Makes you breathless and dizzy. You whimper into each desperate exchange, sucking on his tongue whenever he slips it past your lips. His arms wrap around your middle, pulling you completely flush against him. Your hands get tangled in his hair yet again, a little obsessed with the way it feels between your fingers. Your noses keep bumping into each other and his pokes your eye a handful of times but it doesn’t slow either of you down.

You lift yourself up and Steve offers a whine until he sees you’re moving to take off your underwear, then he’s helping get them off and you’re situating yourself between his legs on the floor. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and peeling them down his thighs, gasping when his impressive length pops out and slaps against his abdomen. You give yourself a beat to look at it as Steve spreads his legs and writhes against the couch. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wrap your hands around the base of him. Your fingers don’t even meet when they’re circled around his girth.

“Christ,” you mutter and he laughs, a soft and almost insecure sound.

“I- I know, it’s kind of—“

“Huge?”

“Scary?” he asks, tilting his head as he gazes down at you.

It’s your turn to laugh, wondering how many girls have told him that. You’re not scared, no, the opposite.

“Not scary,” you tell him, “I’m thoroughly impressed.”

“Yeah? I’ve… I’ve been told it’s too—“ he swallows and his eyes squeeze shut as you stroke his length firmly.

“Too big?” you offer and work your hand up and down his gargantuan cock slowly, “I like a challenge, Stevie.”

He laughs again, but it’s a breathless laugh. He opens his eyes again and watches as you lick a broad stripe up the underside of his cock. His eyebrows furrow, lips parting with a sweet whine. You wrap your lips around the head of him, tasting the salty precum leaking from his slit. As you grip onto the base of him and attempt to take him into your mouth, you can feel just how hard he is. You lock your eyes on his, slowly sinking down on his cock. Drool slips past your lips and down the rest of his length, your hand slides up and smears the natural lube over him. You continue like that, fingers moving up and down where you can’t fit him in your mouth. You make a conscious effort to breathe out of your nose and use your tongue while you bob up and down on his cock.

Steve watches intently, thighs shaking as he tries his hardest not to buck his hips up. Just the size of him has spit pooling in your mouth and seeping down his length all the way to his heavy balls. His face looks extra pretty right now. Dazed and drunk on the pleasure, perhaps some of the tequila too.

His hands tangle into your hair, holding it out of the way as you continue your way up and down his cock.

“That’s it,” he breathes out, chest heaving as he praises you, “Doing so good for me.”

Those words hit you, make you moan on his length and wiggle your hips. You try to take him as deep as you can before pulling off, working your fist over his cock as you catch your breath. Once he’s not in your mouth, he bucks his hips and moans out shakily.

“Oh, fuck…” he seethes, his toes curling into the carpet.

You move your mouth to his balls then, still working his shaft in your hand and you start licking at his sack. Keeping your eyes trained on his gorgeous face. Steve blinks rapidly, rolling his hips up and spewing the prettiest little moans. And you’re kind of obsessed with his face at this moment, the absolute pleasure painted on it.

“So fucking pretty,” you tell him because you really can’t help yourself and Steve seems to like it, tugging on your hair and whining.

“C’mere… wanna kiss you,” he babbles out and you stand on shaky legs before crawling back into his lap and kissing him sloppily. He wraps his arms around your middle and thrusts his hips up, the side of his cock gliding through your folds and punching a surprised moan from you, which he swallows. Then his hands move down and firmly plant on your asscheeks. At first you assumed Steve was close to coming but the way he’s grinding you down on his cock tells you otherwise— he just really wanted to kiss you.

Then Steve pulls away, “Can I taste you? Please?”

You’re not inclined to say no to that, nodding your head emphatically and standing up from his lap again. You make a move to lay down on the couch, but Steve’s laying down first and grabbing at you.

“Sit on my face, please,” he whines and you flush, but do as he asks. Maneuvering your leg over his shoulders, you hover and look down at him. As if to ask if he’s sure. Which he answers by pulling you down on him, his warm and wet mouth meeting your dripping cunt. You moan out, hands grabbing onto the armrest to keep yourself upright as Steve devours your aching pussy. He’s moaning into you, seemingly loving the taste as he sucks and licks at your folds. Once you’re comfortable and downright desperate, you begin riding Steve’s gorgeous face. His hands are planted firm on your ass, guiding you through it.

“I’ve been dying to taste you all night,” he manages to tell you, pulling you off of him just the smallest inch before he’s dragging your pussy back down against his eager mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” you mutter out, “You’re so good at that…”

He really is, uses his whole face to do it. Nose rubbing against your clit, tongue teasing your hole while you drip all over his chin. You try to look down at him, lock eyes with his dazed, pussy-drunk ones but the pleasure gets overwhelming and your eyes start to flutter shut as you grind down on his expert tongue and really use his nose to get off. Your stomach fills with fire, your release gaining in ok you quickly. And once Steve’s tongue penetrates you, you’re a goner. Crying out his name in desperate pleas as you ride your orgasm out. You’re shaking when you pull off of him abruptly, worried that you’re about to suffocate him. And as you stand, looking down at him, you can’t help but giggle at the look on his face. Steve looks like he just came. Blinking slowly, a pleased smile plastered on his pink lips.

He stands with you, laces your fingers and kisses you softly. You can taste yourself on his lips but you don’t mind, giggling into it.

“Can I take you to my bedroom?” he asks once he pulls away.

You nod, shyly and looking up at him with stars in your eyes. He guides you up the stairs, stopping along the way to steal kisses. You’re not sure the last time you felt so much romance tangled in with sex. He presses you to the wall next to his bedroom door, swoops his mouth down to capture yours in a disproportionate chaste kiss. Again, linking your fingers and holding them above your head as he connects his forehead to yours.

“Don’t laugh— okay?”

You giggle, gazing up at him curiously, “Sorry. I won’t.” It’s unclear exactly what Steve’s asking you not to laugh at, but once he opens his bedroom door, you get it. It’s the ugliest bedroom you’ve ever seen. Everything is drenched in plaid, the wallpaper, the curtains, the bedspread. All so offensive. You bite your lip to stifle the laugh, but it all dissolves when you turn to watch Steve close the door and get a glimpse at his cock which is very much still hard. Then his bedroom doesn’t seem so silly anymore. Your hand wraps around his length as you press him against the door, kissing him filthy all over again.

Steve whimpers from the touch, muffled against your tongue as he places his hand on your face and holds you while he kisses back.

“I need you,” he slurs into your mouth and you nod, kissing him before you walk towards his bed. You lay yourself on it, head on his pillows as you bring your hands up to fondle your own tits. Watching as Steve’s hand falls down to his cock, stroking himself slowly. He then climbs on top of you, kissing you tenderly before he’s reaching over to his nightstand but something tells you to stop him, so you do. Hand on his wrist.

“No… I,” you swallow, lust driving this decision completely, “I wanna feel you… just you.”

Steve inhales sharply, moves his hand to push his cock down for some relief as he says to you, “Fuck… are you sure?”

You wrap your arms around his neck as you nod slowly at him, spreading your legs for him. He drops his head down to kiss you, all slow and gentle. His hand slips between your bodies, grabbing his cock and teasing the head of it against your aching center. You gasp softly, hands tangled in his hair as your hips roll, causing the tip of his cock to catch on your dripping hole. Steve sinks in slowly, inch by inch. It’s quite the stretch, has your jaw dropping as you adjust. His cock is hot and thick, you can feel it pulsing as it drags against your walls. It’s so delicious and heady, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and your hips roll up until he’s completely sheathed inside you. And Steve’s gentle, doesn’t jack hammer into you immediately like most men would. He stays still and lets you get used to the feeling, kissing you softly and tenderly between needy moans and gasps.

“Feel so full,” you confess in a whisper and that gets Steve thrusting into you, groaning lowly against your lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, “You’re so fucking wet and tight… squeezing my cock so good.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moan, tugging his hair while he slowly builds a steady and deep rhythm. His hand moves to grab your thigh, squeezing it while he grinds down into you. The tip of his cock prods against that spongy, sweet spot inside you. Punches a yelp out of you to which he looks down at you, panicked.

“You okay?” he asks, blinking rapidly.

You nod, scratching down his back as you plead, “Fuck, yes… right there, do it again.”

A smile spreads across his lips, pretty teeth showing as he thrusts into you again. And again. Your back arches with it, pressing your tits to his chest as your legs spread further on their own volition. You place your hand on his cheek, watching his stunning face as he sinks in and out of your pussy, the filthiest sounds echoing in the room. He licks his lips, brow furrowing as his thrusts get harder and faster. Each time, he rubs against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. Dragging the most pornographic sounds you’ve ever made from your throat. You’re not sure you could recover from this, suddenly really hoping he does ask you to be his girlfriend. The two of you have barely even started and it’s the best you’ve ever felt in your life. His cock filling you in a way that makes you want to cry, in a good way.

“Steeeeeve…” you moan out, low and uncontrollably. “Fuck… that’s so good. Just like that, baby… yes…”

His lips are on your ear now, lowly telling you, “Taking me so well… such a good girl…”

Your cunt clenches around him, little desperate and pleasure filled pants and moans pouring out of you. “Steve, Steve… oh, Steve!” you chant, scratching down his back a second time.

His hips still and he laughs, burying his face in your neck as he mumbles, “Fuck- fuck, don’t wanna cum yet.”

You grab his face and pull his lips to yours, unhooking your legs from his waist as you kiss him deeply. Tongues lazily curling together, panting into each other's open mouths. You give him a beat to come back down, then you’re flipping the pair of you. Get Steve on his back and you on top of him, without disconnecting where you two meet. You place your hands on his furry chest, feeling the jungle of hair you’ve been staring at since he took his shirt off that night. His hands grip onto your hips, gasping and panting as he stares up at you, awestruck look on his beautiful face.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him again and he laughs, that wonderful breathless sound you’re starting to fall in love with. Which is dangerous but right now, you don’t care.

“I’ve got the prettiest girl on top of me… and she’s telling me I’m pretty,” he mumbles out, dazed smile on his face.

“You are,” you assure him just as you start to rock your hips, face confronting as you feel his cock prod at that sweet spot deep inside you again. Your eyes cross from it, eyebrows knitting together as you bite your lip and you begin riding him steadily. Slow and gentle at first but soon enough, you’re bouncing up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby… just like that…” Steve babbles out, snaking his hand around and his thumb finds your clit easily. Works in quick, firm circles. Has you riding him even faster and harder as your climax threatens to rush over you. Building and building so quickly.

“Steve…. Steve?” you whimper.

Sweet, lopsided smile on his face when he asks, “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you confess, scratching your nails against his chest as you grind down on his length.

Steve keeps up his ministrations on your clit, doesn’t switch anything up. But he heaves this happy, aroused laugh and tells you, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Use me.”

Your body tenses when it hits you, sending you over the edge and you collapse on top of him. Face buried in his neck as you spew cries and moans. He grabs your hips, holds you steady and plants his feet on the mattress. That’s when he lets loose, thrusts into you with everything he’s worth. Mouthing praise against your ear as he fucks you silly.

Your eyes roll back, his thrusts punching repetitive and loud moans from your lungs.

“Fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns and squirms underneath you but you make no attempt to move.

“Fill me up, Steve,” you whisper against his ear, kissing under it and then telling him, “Wanna feel it. Cum inside me, baby.”

He lets out a gargled moan, arms wrapping around you firmly as he thrusts one last time and releases inside you, coating your walls with his spend. Your lips meet again, lazily and spent kisses as you both come down.

Steve strokes your hair, holds you close and kisses your cheek before he asks, “You wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah.. yeah, I do,” you reply, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. “As long as you make you breakfast.”

“I’ll make you anything you want,” he says with a smile before flipping you over and kissing you deeply.

And okay… maybe it wasn’t such a lame date.

[theambitiouswoman]

Ways to Add Luxury to Your Life

1. Stop saying “you can’t afford it”

2. Walk through or stop for a drink at a luxurious hotel

3. Create your own luxurious evening routine

4. Create your own luxurious morning routine

5. Schedule in something fancy

6. Wear your favorite handbag and shoes

7. Find your signature scent

8. Do your hair and make up

9. Shop your wardrobe

10. Choose your top 3 must do things everything

11. Cook from scratch

12. Drink champagne

13. Buy silk linens for your bed

14. Celebrate your wins

15. Personalized stationary

16. Visit museums and art galleries

17. Shop at farmers markets

18. Eat organic and fresh foods

19. Go on hikes

20. Play uplifting music

21. Plant a vegetable garden

22. Use lavender pouches in your drawers

23. Exercise daily

24. Only drink quality tea and coffee

25. Wear pretty/silk lingerie and cute lounge wear

26. Have a creative hobby

27. Visit the spa and get facials regularly

28. Buy fresh flowers

29. Use quality skincare and makeup

30. Take hot baths

31. Buy essential oils

32. Treat yourself

33. Add lemon to your water

34. Go to a high end gym or Lounge

35. Read a book before bed

36. Stop saving your nice things for later. Use them now

37. Use an exfoliator for your body

38. Stretching and yoga

39. Go to an artisan cafe for fresh croissants

40. Make your own dressings for your foods

41. Clean your house and your car

42. Take a detox shot in the morning

43. Treat yourself to a professional blow dry

44. Nails always done

45. Bake fresh cookies

46. Watch a classic and elegant film like Breakfast at Tiffany’s

47. Have a full feminine luxurious shower routine

48. Clean your makeup brushes and arrange them like a beauty counter for the next time you use them

49. Learn about art and wines

50. Decorate your home like a 5 star hotel

51. Use a pillow spray

52. Host a dinner party

53. If possible, hire a chef or cleaner to help you

[jyoongim]

OKAY I DID THE GAME AND GOT PROMPT 4 SO IM REQUESTING AN ALASTOR X READER WITH 50 AND 58 PLEASEE 🔵

(also I did the game with my gf and showed her all the stuff I'm into 👀)

Prompt 4, #50 & 58: smut no plot “behave, I wouldn’t want to have to punish you now w/ act like a brat, Ill treat you like a brat”

Alastor x brat!reader

The lounge was buzzing with people.

You were nursing a drink, looking at all the people dancing.

You wanted to dance.

”c’mon Al lets hit the dance floor” you chirped. The red demon shook his head and went back to talking with Mimzy.

You pouted.

You had got all dolled up and he wasn’t even paying any attention to you.

So you took matters into your own hands.

You slipped from your seat and headed to the dance floor, spotting an attractive demon who would love to feed your ego for the night.

You flashed him a flirty smile as you began to dance, encouraging the man to approach you.

He took the bait.

A warm body slithered behind you, hands grasping your hips.

You happily accepted his advances, keeping your smirk hidden when you saw Alastor turn and meet your eyes.

He beckoned you back and you threw your hair over your shoulder, giving your dance partner your attention.

You rubbed yourself the demon, letting his hands roam as you danced to the music.

Warm breath grazed your neck ”why dont we get out of here huh?”

You giggled and before you could utter a response you felt a familiar shadow wrap around your leg, tugging.

A warning.

Behave dearest

You ignored it, shooing the shadow away. You didn’t have to listen to him. You were out to have fun and if Alastor wasn’t going to pay attention to you, then another would do just fine.

”Buy me a drink at least” you purred and the demon happily wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the bar.

Alastor was staring into the side of your face as you flirted with the demon.

The demon excused himself to the restroom and Alastor gripped your arm, lips at your ear “I suggest you stop this behavior darling, wouldn’t want to ruin our night” his voice was void of the radio filter.

You huffed, glaring at him “I am having fun! Something you seem to want no part in”

His claws tightened around you, pulling you into his lap “now now dont go acting like a brat, you dont want to be punished do you?”

You swatted him away when your date came back.

You ignored his warning and turned your attention back to the male.

Alastor had had enough of your antics and bid Mimzy a goodbye, as he plucked you away from your date.

You resisted, pouting and huffing as he dragged you out of the lounge.

”Al! Let go! i was just having a bit of fun. There was no harm-”

He pushed you into a dark alley, your back hitting a brick wall.

You grunted as he pushed you to your knees, shadows restraining you.

He leaned down, fingers gripping your chin, sneering 

“You want to act like a brat, then Ill treat you like a brat”

You went to make a smirk remark when a tentacle slithered against your pulsing cunt. “!” You bit your lip.

”You’re not to cum until I see that pretty face smeared in tears and even then I wont stop until you soil the ground”

You jerked against the feeling of the appendage toying with your slit, slipping into your panties and playing with your clit.

You whined as it dipped into your cunt, curling and  wiggling around your gummy walls.

In the quiet alleyway, the sounds of your wetness echoed as you tried to hold your orgasm back.

Your face was buried in Alastor’s pant leg as you panted and push your hips back against the squirming tentacle.

Your thighs were sticky with your slick and a small puddle had formed underneath you.

”A-Al please…I-I fuuuck” you whimpered, tears running down your face, smearing your mascara as your cunt tightened.

Alastor hummed, running a hand through your hair 

“Brats dont get to cum darling”

[sweetbeagaming]

P. Mondrian High 🏫

64 x 64 - Copperdale High School replacement - no cc - play tested - place with MOO

Some people say it's just a bunch of rectangles, but here at P. Mondrian High School we encourage our students to think outside of the box! Originally founded as an art college, this academic institution has offered teens a place to expand their horizons since 1955. We've since expanded our academics to include a well rounded program of athletics, humanities, STEM, and more! Enroll today and experience a new angle of life.

Download and additional info under the cut ↪

Built for The Neighborhood Save, a 50s Modernist inspired high school for your youths! A matching auditorium is planned.

The school features:

Full gym including equipment and locker rooms

Black box theater

Cafeteria and "kitchen"

Library

4 classrooms (science/math, history/literature, tech and art)

4 unique club rooms for students (LGBTQ+, Music, Logic and Jock)

Admin offices and teachers lounge

4 extra curricular set ups (greenhouse, cheer mat, fundraising table, stargazing tent)

The classrooms were made with the High School More Classmates mod in mind. The mod isn't required for functionality and you can delete the white boards of whatever classes you don't want. And might I suggest @cowplant-snacks wonderful teen townies to go along with it?

Download the P. Mondrian HS tray file on SFS

Also available on the gallery @sweetbeagaming!

[aunt-bridget]

Delegate.

Everyone moaned about the conference….but you always found a way to amuse yourself. There was usually a lady in the hotel bar, maybe looking for some unattached fun. Alpha corporate males with an expense account bigger than their cocks proved to be popular with some of these ladies.

Tonight was no different, you had the final workshop session in the morning and you took your usual place at the bar. Looking around the lounge, the lady that was catching your eye wasn’t your type. Older, certainly. Maybe 50? But a firm, slim figure. She had a sleek, short haircut…..black with a hint of grey mixed in. Her expression was stern, dark eyes intently looking around the scene in the bar. She was wearing a pair of leather thigh boots, matching short skirt and silk blouse. Her make up was quite discreet, pale skin with mascara accentuating her already deep eyes and scarlet lips…..she was quite intimidating in an understated way.

You found yourself staring too much and she matched your gaze…..the look was unwavering and she carried on until you looked away, embarrassed. So much for the alpha corporate male as you sipped your rum in shrunken silence. A whiff of perfume and the creak of leather soon invaded your senses as you turned to see her standing next to you. She was a few inches taller and her demeanour reminded you of a lioness. Casually watching a baby zebra meander around a watering hole before deciding to take it down.

“A drink would be appropriate now, seeing as you’ve spent the last half hour watching me.” Her voice was clipped with an accent, possibly British, possibly Irish. You fumbled to get the bartender’s attention and she ordered a large red wine. You talked….or rather you rambled nervously. Her cool countenance was extremely off putting and you really didn’t know how to act. She was gracious and smiled at the right moments, but her eyes never smiled….not once. She asked if you wanted to fuck her this evening….you sat, struck dumb by the direct question.

“This is why you’re here, isn’t it? To find some easy pussy and to fulfill whatever thrills you?”

You nodded, a little unsure if this would offend her. Instead she smiled again….a genuine one this time and ordered a bottle of champagne. Of course, it was charged to you and she placed her hand on your crotch….your cock springing into life. She tutted, and told you to follow her up to the room. You watched her ass sway in the soft, fitted leather. Her walk was regal, the long boots oozing dominance and you felt like a filthy peasant.

The elevator ride was tense as she stood close to you, but not once acknowledging you…..the short walk to her room and the door was opened. She pushed you on the bed, ordering you to undress. You quickly removed everything as she popped the champagne open. You sat, butt naked watching as she slowly stalked around the room…..her short skirt clinging against her hips and ass.

“Go into the bathroom and shower. I don’t approve of dirty cocks….if I’m going to take something in my mouth, I want it clean.”

You got up and headed into the shower and took care to wash throughly. You even brushed your teeth as you heard music start to play from within the room. You reappeared and she was sitting there, the two glasses of champagne sitting on the dressing table. She handed you one and she guzzled her glass in a single go. You did the same as she poured another….the heat in the room seemed be getting more intense as you felt like your muscles were made of stone. She drank her glass quickly again and you tried to reach for yours….but the strength had evaporated from you. Your fingers were moving in slow motion, your face felt numb and you were dimly aware of your slurred voice. The lady patted you on the head and gently laid you down……

Your eyes opened. The room was dim and the music was still playing. The champagne bottle was next to the bed and you tried to move. You looked down and your heart leapt. Despite the sluggishness, you were fully awake now. The shiny dress you seemed to be wearing was tight. The red ropes coiled around you were also very tight. You tried to call out, but the ball jammed in your mouth stopped any intelligent conversation. The reflection in the mirror filled in the blanks. The sissy slut opposite was indeed you. A short brown wig, leather collar with steel ring attached and a pair of red high heels were forced onto your feet. The makeup was painted on like a true whore and you struggled furiously.

The bathroom door opened and the lady walked out. Her boots were now swapped for a shiny patent pair, fully adorned with buckles running the whole length of the boot….right up to her crotch. She was wearing a latex body suit and long latex gloves. Her hair was slicked back and her demonic eyes almost glowed in the dimness of the room. But the one thing that drew your attention was the massive, jet black cock strapped to her groin. A veined, glistening monster….maybe 8-10 inches long. You shook your head as she strutted over to the bedside table and grabbed a few implements you couldn’t quite make out.

“You really can’t hold your drink, can you, boy? I was afraid I’d have to amuse myself tonight….luckily you made a recovery.”

She moved toward you and quickly grabbed your limp dick. A yelp from you was rewarded with a stinging slap across the face. The black plastic chastity cage was skilfully placed on you and she held the key in front of your disbelieving eyes. She smirked and sat down in the chair opposite you….her boot raised and lifting the dress up to expose your caged cock. A sigh and a chuckle came from her cruel red lips as she started to stroke her huge phallus. Quickly and rhythmically jerking it up and down.

“This could have been you. But I got the idea that you might prefer taking cock, rather than giving it. A shame really, I just reapplied my lipstick for nothing. But don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure that I’ll reapply yours….i plan on having it smeared all around my big, black dick. You like my big, black dick, sweetie?”

You shook your head and she ground her boot heel into your cage. She would educate you for the whole night to come. A vibe constantly forcing your little girly cock to swell in its prison while a real piece of equipment took your virgin ass.

Perhaps you won’t be returning to the conference next year…..or maybe you will. I guess your lady will decide that.

[janus-cadet]

Thoroughly enjoyed the two last Doctor Who episode, especially the Devil's chord. II already knew I was going to adore Maestro, but nothing could have prepare me for how much they served.

So, yes, here they are, joining their father on the Tarot Project, as the Nine of Pentacles!

I'm actually really happy with how it turned out! Now, under the cut, you'll find a quick explanation for the choice of card, and all of the other Doctor Who cards I've done so far!

Now, Maestro do not fit the card as such- not only is it starting to get a bit hard to find corresponding cards (I mean, I've done 50 already-), but they are also a complex character who is not grounded in a reality easily translated in the official cards. But Maestro is also the embodiment of music, and the Nine of Pentacles is the one that fit the most, to me, the vibe they are giving. You see, the Nine of Pentacles is a card centered around abundance. It's in fact the bringer of said abundance, as well as the enjoyer: you brought it to your life, and now, you get to enjoy the fruit of your labour. It reminded me of the way Maestro brought this over excitement, over abundance of music, in their first appearance- to steal it for themself, true! But then, to enjoy it, to lounge in it. Refering to them as they lounge on the piano, listening to the sound of a nuclear winter, like a cat that got the milk. There is abundance, luxury in the concept of Music, something that can express anything and everything; and they definitely aim to delight in it.

Other than that, it's also a card meant for someone taking their independence, going solo; perhaps someone cutting tie with a problematic family member, or learning to live on their own, supporting themself. The Nine of Pentacles is also a card for someone who is, as it is, in harmony with the world around them- quite literally, in Maestro's case. You take on what's around you, and can harness the energy of nature to bring pleasure in your life. Let's just hope that you'll refrain from doing so by completely stealing music from everyone else.

I really, really hope we'll get more of Maestro in the time to come, tho. I would pay so much money to get to learn more about their backstroy, their relatonship with the Toymaker, as bad as it obviously was. I don't know, I'm definitely fascinated by this new Pantheon, for damn sure!

Now, to conclude, a plethora of Doctor Who card, in chronological order. The first one is three years old, if you can believe that!

[crazymadpassionatelove]

A little sneak peak of something in the works...

Oh look! Finished product here...

Dedicated to my fave blonde bombshell @ab4eva 🩷

---

Elvis Presley Quietly Marries At Home

The man with the famous pelvis is now a married man! Colonel Parker confirmed that Elvis married Paramount actress Leona Grace at his home in Memphis on the nineteenth of March. The wedding comes on the heels of rumors that the new Mr. and Mrs. Presley are due for a visit from the stork. The Colonel’s response? “Those are questions for a different day”. The hush hush, spur of the moment wedding did not follow an engagement announcement and no pictures of the happy couple seem to exist beyond set outtake photos. The event reportedly took place in the evening with just family and close friends in attendance totaling about 50 people. A red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting was served for dessert and sources say that Elvis's own music was played late into the night as friends danced in the backyard of Presley's Graceland mansion.

“See ya in a bit, baby doll, gotta meet with the Colonel about some stuff,” his lips lingered on her skin while he eyed her in the mirror. Leona couldn't suppress the sour look that appeared on her face. 

“What sort of stuff?” she questioned cooly. 

“Some movie stuff, ain't nothing for you to worry that pretty head about,” his tone was casual yet dismissive. Those were fighting words for Leona, who stomped her foot like a child and demanded to know just exactly why he was allowed to make movies while she had been regulated to pick flowers in the garden with the dogs, lounge in the pool, and shop herself silly with Patsy. She felt like a bird in a cage, albeit a gold-plated diamond-studded cage. 

“Oh ya want me to start calling you my pretty little baby bird?” he teased, those long fingers, perfect for reaching all the right spots, were tickling at her ribs. Leona yanked away from his grasp and pouted. “Baby, you're a wife now, my wife, I'm gonna take care of things. No need for you to stress yourself and slave away to send money back home to your momma and granny, I had my daddy send a check two days ago,” Elvis explained, sliding on a pair of sunglasses that made him look utterly delectable as he shifted his weight from one leg to another in the doorway, seemingly unable to keep still. 

---

More to come soon....

[ssinnerplazahotel]

WC:3k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Note/: intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions—all reader’s welcomed

When you saw him watching, you couldn’t help but put on a show. He didn’t seem like the type of man to approach a woman; you imagined he wouldn’t have had to do so often. Instead, he watched you move around the crowded lounge for over half an hour. He smiled softly whenever you caught his eye but otherwise only looked when you weren’t. At one point you had moved to the opposite side of the room and you thought you’d lost him. But when he managed to find you, you managed to find it in your heart to put him out of his misery.

He spoke first when you were close enough to hear him over the band. “You’re good at that.”

“At what?”

“Dancing.”

You laughed. “You’re good at watching.”

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Your name?”

You pretended not to be able to hear him over the music and offered to go upstairs to talk some place quieter. He hesitated and although you wondered why, you didn’t question it. You managed to get through the dense crowd without losing each other and you guided him upstairs.

“Yo, Treasure.” You found a familiar face lingering by the staircase.

“Chuck, baby, why am I not surprised to see you here?”

“You can’t be more surprised than me,” He said. “You look good.”

“You look the same as when I saw you last.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“He doesn’t have a name yet.” You smiled and continued up the stairs with your new friend in tow.

“Your name’s Treasure?” He asked.

“It is for Chuck.”

“What is it for me?”

You thought for a moment. “…Birdie.”

“Why ‘birdie?’”

“Have you ever seen a bird stay in one place for more than a few seconds?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” He was still confused. “I’m saying that I refuse to stay still.”

“You refuse?”

“Yeah.”

“…I struggle keeping still myself.”

“I guess we’re the same.”

He stepped towards you whenever you stepped back, keeping the space between you minimal. “Do you live around here?”

“I’m not from here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Nowhere.”

“W-What’s that mean?”

“I sorta go wherever I want and do whatever I want.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, and I don’t stop by the same place twice.” He looked disappointed. “My mother was the same way, so I can’t really say I’m from anywhere.”

“Oh.”

“What’s your name, baby?”

“O-Oh, it’s uh, Elvis.”

“Uh-Elvis?”

He chuckled softly and despite the dim light you saw the tips of his ears turn red. “Yeah.”

“I saw you up there talking to BB.”

“Yeah, w-we uh—I know him.”

“He ever show you this room?” You went over to the window and looked out. “They used to leave me up here when I was too little to party.”

“You were little? I-I mean, y-you knew him w-when you were little?”

“Come look, you can see the road from here.” You waited for him to cross the room, watching his expression as he looked out the window. He didn’t look too impressed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…w-why’d you ask?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why would you?”

You shrugged. “Just being careful.”

He stepped closer. “You don’t have to be careful with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You slipped your hands onto his shoulders. “Still okay?”

He nodded.

“Yes?” You wondered.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“You can touch me, y’know?”

When he realized that his arms were still motionless at his sides he moved to hug your waist; you smiled as your body pressed against his.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You laughed.

“I-I don’t—y-you’re just…I don’t think I’ve met a girl like you.”

“You need to get out more.”

You couldn’t make out his expression as he examined your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You were shocked that he had been polite enough to ask. “Only if you promise to buy me a drink.”

He nodded. “Whatever you want.”

He wasn’t only polite in asking, he was polite in letting you make every move. His lips were soft when they met yours. He was nice…too nice.

“Remember when you said I didn’t have to be careful with you?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“You don’t have to be careful with me either.”

“Okay.”

“Touch me, Elvis.”

“Okay.”

He deepened the kiss but it was up to you to take his idle hands and make them grope your breasts. After that bit of encouragement, they were all over you as he held you against the windowsill. You wondered if anyone could see the two of you from the road but you didn’t care enough to stop.

You guided his right hand under the skirt of your dress and he rubbed you through the damp fabric of your underwear. You smiled against his lips when he pushed the fabric aside and his trembling fingers met your arousal. He kissed you more eagerly and touched you with the same vigor. Despite his nerves, he was sure of himself as he fingered you within an inch of your life.

“Yes, baby, that’s perfect,” You whimpered. You could feel his confidence growing with every word of encouragement. Soon he broke the kiss in favor of meeting your eyes; forcing you over the edge with one final thrust in the right direction. Before he pulled away, you guided his hand to your lips.

“No,” He whispered in awe, watching with lust blown pupils as you lick his fingers clean.

You kissed him again, grinning at the desperation behind his tongue but stopping suddenly. “H-How about that drink, huh?”

His shock didn’t go unnoticed. “O-Oh…”

“You owe me, remember.”

“Y-Yeah…okay.”

He looked confused when you moved to unbuckle his belt. The sound he made when you touched him scratched a certain part of your brain—it made you want to make him fall apart. It’d be so easy.

“Oh my god,” He muttered breathlessly as you tucked his errection into his waist band.

“We’ll just tuck this away for later. No one will ever know.” You instructed him to fix his belt while you grabbed your purse.

“W-What, uh…What drink do you want?”

“Something sweet.”

“Something sweet,” He repeated. “…Sure.”

“Go, I’m right behind you,” You said, stopping to wipe your lipstick off his lips before ushering him the rest of way out of the room.

You followed him out after fixing your clothes and makeup. When you got downstairs you stopped the first man you ran into.

“Hey, baby, come here.” You smiled and motioned for him. “Wanna buy me a drink?”

“In exchange for what?”

You almost rolled your eyes. “You choose.”

“What do you want?”

“Something sweet.”

He looked like a man who struck gold as he rushed towards the bar. You spotted Elvis there too and you couldn’t help but laugh watching the two order similar drinks.

“Hope this is sweet enough for you, doll,” Elvis said as he handed over the drink, kissing your cheek along the way. BB showed up and began pestering him about treating you right, but you could hardly pay attention as you kept an eye out for the tall dark devil you sent to the bar. Your stomach churned in delight when you saw him making his way over. You took a seemingly harmless step away from Elvis and BB when he neared, abandoning the drink that had been placed in your hands just moments before.

“Something sweet,” He said when he found you.

“Aw, baby, you really shouldn’t have.” You felt Elvis’ eyes boring into you, how could you not when he was only a few feet away.

“I bet you’re the sweet one, really.”

“Stop,” You chuckled.

“Once you finish that we can roll.”

“Roll where?”

You choked on your strawberry daiquiri, covering your mouth to hide your amusement at the sound of Elvis’ voice.

“Is there a reason you’re talking to me?”

“Is there a reason you’re talking to my girl?”

“Your girl?” The stranger looked at you.

“I’ve never seen that man in my life,” You said with an oblivious expression, ignoring BB’s horrified one.

“Hold on just a damn minute~” Elvis started as the man went to defend you, stepping in front of you to act as a barrier.

“BB you oughta get this flamingo outta here, he don’t fit no way.”

You backed away discreetly, moving away as BB kept the two men from attacking each other. You abandoned your drink on a nearby table, slipping down the wooden steps of the lounge and into the cool night. You were relieved to be outside again. You sauntered into the street, hardly dodging the few cars that still lingered that late in the evening. You looked back at the club once more before disappearing into the night with a final laugh.

*

“I don’t know when you’re gonna stop coming back here. I can’t keep blocking off streets for you.”

“Anything?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks for asking~”

“BB, please.”

“E.P…” The man sighed, pouring a drink. “It’s the same as I told you before, I ain’t seen her since that night.”

“Has anyone seen her?”

“Nah…” He offered Elvis the drink but he declined the glass.

“I’m getting on the road tomorrow,” He said instead. “I dunno when I’ll be back in Memphis again.”

BB looked thrilled. “That’s good to hear~”

“I wanted to see her again before~”

“That girl’s probably halfway across somewhere by now. She don’t stay put.”

“You said she’s your cousin.”

“That’s how I know. I heard stories about her for years ‘fore I actually laid eyes on her, that’s how fast she moves around.”

“…There was something about her.”

“There’ll be something about someone else soon I’m sure.”

“What’s her name?”

“I can’t~”

“Please. I’ll never see her again anyway. Neither will you from the looks of it.”

He looked conflicted but ultimately answered. “…It’s Y/n.”

“Y/n?”

“Are you bunnies talking about me?”

BB groaned and rushed to push the door shut before any desperate stragglers slipped through. “Can you get that maniac upstairs before I have to board up another window.”

You couldn’t tell if Elvis was the maniac or if you were. “Oh, BB, aren’t you happy to see me at least?”

“Upstairs!”

“Fine.”

You huffed and led the way upstairs. You faced Elvis when you were behind the door of the small room upstairs. He looked the same as when you saw him last, only the circles under his eyes were darker and he looked more stressed.

“What happened to not stopping by the same place twice?”

“You remember that but not the part where I told you that I do whatever I want.” He rolled his eyes. “You look tired.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“I called that number you gave BB.”

“He’s really not supposed to be giving that out.”

“A man picked up.”

You liked the jealous undertone in his voice, it made you smile. “Did he say ‘hi?’”

“Who was it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Did he give you my message?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

His jaw twitched. “…I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“I know that’s why I came today.”

“You couldn’t have come sooner? Shit, I asked BB about you a million times in the last five weeks.”

“That’s a lot of asking when you could’ve just called.”

“And talk to your man?”

“And talk to my dad, jackass.”

He looked stunned and you laughed. “Y-You dad? You live with your father?”

“No, but I stop by to pick up my mail when I’m in town.”

“Which is…whenever you want?”

“That’s right, bunny.”

“Uh-uh, don’t go giving me one of your freaky little nicknames, alright, I got a name. I like my name, I want the whole world to know it~”

“I didn’t mean to get you all flustered~”

“I don’t get flustered.”

You bit back a smile. “Okay.”

He sighed and looked off. “I can’t believe you’d wait til tonight to show up.”

“I came as soon as I got the message.”

“You’re playing with me.”

“I’m not. You’re the only reason I came back.”

“You’re lying.”

“Come on, bun…Elvis.” You inched towards him, waiting until he met your eyes to continue. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I’m happy to see you, I just wish I didn’t feel like I had to stare at you for the next five hours to make up for the past five weeks.”

“You count like a girl.”

“You get around like one.”

“How dare you~”

“Where do you go when you run off in the middle of the night? You aren’t sleeping in the street are you?”

You were shocked by his forwardness. “It’s none of your business, honestly.”

“Of course it isn’t. Because you do whatever you want, you go wherever you want to go~”

You groaned. “You’re making me regret even showing back up in this old, deadbeat town.”

“I feel like an idiot. All these days I’ve been holding you up here when really you’re subpar with the rest~”

“It’s not my fault you spent the last five weeks hoping you could fuck me before tour~”

“I don’t want to fuck you, I want to talk. I hardly said two words to you the last time I saw you.”

“I’m not the talking type.”

“Where do you go at night?”

“…I just…fly away.”

“You fly away?”

“Yeah, but…I gotta stop by and pick up my mail tonight. Wanna come?”

“Sure,” He responded sarcastically. “I’ll just pull my fucking jet around.”

You laughed. “I’m serious. Unless you’re too mad at me.”

“…I’m not mad at you,” He finally said.

“Then come with me.”

“Fine.”

“Can you get us out of here?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect.”

*

You were hoping to avoid running into Ron, but he was up waiting for you when you got there. You couldn’t make out his expression, but you knew he wasn’t happy.

“This is Elvis. I told you about him.”

“Elvis? What kind of name is that?”

Elvis started to respond but you stopped him in time. “Some guys were bothering me so he was walking me home. We were just saying goodnight.”

“Bothering you where?”

You shook your head. “Nowhere, just up the street b-by O'malley's…”

“…We need to talk.”

“Okay, baby, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”

“It was nice to meet you, Ron.”

“Yeah…”

You stopped Elvis when he headed back toward the door, holding your finger to your lips until you heard Ron’s bedroom door shut behind him. You motioned for the stairs and carefully crept up them—showing him how to avoid the creaky parts of the steps. You were relieved when you were behind the door of your bedroom.

“That wasn’t so bad.” You slipped his coat off your shoulders and threw it on your bed.

“That’s your dad?” He looked uneasy.

“Yeah, but only when he’s sober.” You laughed.

“Is that your father?”

“…No.”

“Are you together?”

“No…he don’t care what I do as long as he gets the final word.”

“And does he?”

“Does he what?”

“Does he get the last word?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because it don’t seem right.”

“Bunny, don’t make it more complicated than it is~”

“I’m not playing your game right now, I’m serious.”

“So am I—leave it alone. You can go back where you came from if you think you’re gonna be sitting up here interrogating me like you’re my goddamn daddy.”

“But he can?”

“Yes, he can. And can also put a bullet between your eyes if I ask him to.”

He looked shocked. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Do I even have to say it?”

“Say what?”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Y’know what…fine, that’s fine.”

You almost felt yourself stopping him when he turned to leave. You refrained and instead faced your window to light a cigarette. You heard the shuffle of his coat going on before there was silence.

“Is this where you’ll be?”

“Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”

“Is this where you’re going to be?”

“Not if I can help it.”

He sighed. “Will he give you my messages?”

You nodded. “I’ll get them whenever I drop by.”

“Can you try to do that more often?”

“Drop by?”

“Yeah. So I can hear from you while I’m on the road.”

“…I’ll try.”

“Will you?”

“I’ll try, bunny, I promise.”

When you heard from him again it had been weeks later when you received a copy of his latest record in the mail. Ron got real quiet when he saw what it was—not good. You flew away quickly that night; leaving the record behind as proof of how much it meant to you.

The next time you heard Elvis’ voice, you just so happened to be in town when he called.

“Hello?”

“Birdie?”

“Elvis?”

“You’re home?”

“Elvis…”

“Hello?”

“Y-You can’t call this late, you’ll wake up Ron.”

“Why are you whispering? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…h-he just now went to sleep and I don’t want to wake him up.”

“I called last week and I ain’t heard nothing back.”

“Sorry, he…” You checked down the hall before dropping your voice some more. “He’s still mad about th-the record you sent.”

“He is?”

“Yeah, y-you really can’t do those kinds of things.”

“I thought you said Ron don’t care.”

“…Ron takes care of me, Elvis.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, so if he asks me not to accept gifts from other people I don’t accept gifts from other people.”

“For someone who does whatever they want he has you on a leash this big~”

“I’m hanging up.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I can’t talk.”

“I’m sorry about the record. I s-sent em around to everyone. I-I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I know…don’t do it again, that’s all.”

He fell silent on the other line and you didn’t rush the silence, you just let it be until he spoke up again. “Where are you going to be tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” You responded. “What about you?”

“I don’t know…”

You couldn’t let the silence sit that time. “I have to go before he realizes I’m gone.”

“…I’m starting to think you don’t feel safe.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna come get you.”

You stifled a laugh. “Oh no.”

“I’m serious.”

“Come get me then.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you be there?”

“You always ask the right questions, don’t you?”

He was serious. “Birdie.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Will you be there?”

“Honestly? I hope not.”

He sighed softly but he didn’t say anything about being disappointed. “I’m gonna be in Ohio for the next two weeks.”

“Okay. Good luck in Ohio.”

“…Thank you.”

“…You’ll break my heart if you make me hang up first.”

You heard him chuckle and after a beat of silence the line went dead.

*

“Every time I see you I go to pinch myself.”

“Do you know what it takes for a girl like me to get this far this fast?”

“I’m sure Ohio’s happy you’re here.”

“Ohio better not be the only thing happy to see me. I might turn my ass around.”

He laughed. “Y-You wanna ride with us?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I’m headed to meet someone. I just thought I’d surprise you while I was here.”

“Where ya headed? W-We can drop you off on the way.”

“I’m going back that way, opposite direction.”

“What way?”

“That way.” You motioned vaguely.

“Let’s go, EP. Truck’s already rollin.”

“You should go.”

“W-Will you come with us?”

“Baby, I already said~”

“Please? You don’t know where you’re headed anyway, what’s the difference?”

“They’re going to leave without you.”

“Get in the truck.”

For some reason you hesitated and you found yourself rushing to respond. “I-I really can’t.”

“Why?”

They blew the horn and he got this anxious expression on his face that made you feel bad. “I can’t just leave you standing here~”

“Let’s play a game,” You said, opening your purse and rummaging around for a moment. “Take…uhm, take this, okay?”

“Why?” He asked, letting you put the silver compact mirror in his palm.

“So you can give it back when I see you next time.”

Another exasperated blow from the car horn.

“Kiss me.” You stood up on your tiptoes expectantly and waited for his lips to touch yours before pushing him away. “Go. Be careful.”

“Me be careful?” He wondered as he skipped a few steps toward the truck. “You be careful.”

“Elvis!” You called just as he climbed into the truck and shut the door. You laughed when you saw him sticking his head out the window.

“What?” He called as the truck started rolling.

“I love you!”

“What?”

“I love—“ You motioned to your heart and then to him. “—you!”

You couldn’t make out his expression as the truck picked up speed and made its way down the road. You watched until the vehicle was out of sight, suddenly feeling the emptiness of the night as you stood there alone.

*

“He’s in a bad way…there’s no telling how long he’ll be over there.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

You rummaged through your purse in search of any change, collecting the loose dimes from the bottom of the handbag.

“I’m only telling you ‘cause he’s been here every night since he found out. I been boarding up windows and blocking off doors~”

“I’m waiting for this to turn into my problem, BB.”

“This is your problem, this is solely your problem.”

“I don’t even know when I’ll be in Memphis again.”

“Can’t you get one of your men to bring you down here? How much they be paying Ron anyway?”

“It’s not about the money~”

“However much it is, I’ll pay him back if you can get here ‘fore he ships out.”

You laughed. “What is it about that man that makes you do whatever he says?”

“I could ask you the same damn thing. I’m tryna get a problem off my hands.”

“So am I.”

“Nobody put you in the position you’re in.”

“…I don’t know if I can be in Memphis before next week. It’s too short notice.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Ron’s sick of hearing about him and he’s starting to take it out on me. Things were good before, I don’t need all this.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have told him you loved him and you’d see him again.”

“I didn’t think I would, that’s why I said it. I was just trying to make his night.”

“You made it alright.”

“…I’m on my last dime, baby.” You turned the silver over in your palm before dropping it into the pay phone.

“I know you can be here, you can be anywhere.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Come by the club, have a drink with the man. Do all your little tricks and disappear like always.”

“I’ll see, okay? Don’t be mad at me…I can’t handle you being mad at me.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.”

[spxcefarer]

Starfield Radio Stations (a collection of Spotify playlists)

Sooo I got super bored yesterday and made 11 (yes, eleven) Spotify playlists for radio stations I made up for the Starfield universe. There's a huge mix of genres, so I thought maybe some of you guys might like to listen too. I've aimed for around 50 tracks each but total lengths vary a little. You can also click here to see all the tracklists.

Red Rock Radio - "martian radio for all your heavy listening needs" - perfect for dogfights and shootouts. Heavy, rhythmic, lots of classic and contemporary hard rock. Probably something the Red Devils would listen to, and a personal favourite of mine.

Space-DST Radio - "classical rock to ease you through the spacelanes" - recently taken up space-trucking? Got you covered. Road-trip bangers and dad-rock in this one.

Asteroid FM - "ambient tracks for when you're lost in space" - think lots of instrumental mountain banjo and some psychedelic rock themes. Some vocal tracks but not many, very mellow in general.

Atlantic FM - "feel-good indie for drowning out the corporate drones" - what it says on the tin really. New Atlantis vibes - up-beat, jazzy, designed to make you feel better.

Radio Cheyenne - "music to awaken your inner space cowboy" - Akila City vibes at their finest. Country, blues and soft rock, very frontier-esque.

RADIONEON - "electronica for those neon-lit nights" - upbeat synth and punchy drums to vibe/dance/astral project/kill bad guys to. Some indie and some more mainstream tracks in here.

RADIONEON ASTRAL FM - "entrancing electronic beats" - made to fit with the air of the Astral Lounge, lots of trancey EDM and house.

Stargazer Radio - "melancholy music found in someone's ancestor's collection" - for when you just need to drift through space and ponder life's troubles. Sad vibes, with modern and old stuff.

Planet Pop! - "a mix of popular music from old earth" - only stuff released before Y2K here, contains lots of 80s in this one.

Planet Pop! 2K - "pop music from after the turn of the millennium" - a mix of dance and classic pop tracks released after Y2K. Tried to keep it space-themed but got carried away lol.

FM Voyager - "moog-ish music to drift in space to" - think 60s space music, and then multiply by 200. Not as many tracks on this one, probably the weirdest out of the lot.

Please let me know what you think!!

I've been so excited to share this I'd love to know if you have any favourites!

[jinbedreams]

Exposed Bone

Pairing: Brook x Jimbei One Piece, Fishbones Content: General Audience, old man crushing Word Count: 944

Note: God I never write fic, so this is barely anything, but Brook and Jimbei seem to have made enough noise in my brain that I had to change that. I blame @badly-drawn-doflamingo for making me think about fishbones. Maybe I will write more of this at some point. ~~~~~~~

Brook is a conundrum, a soul with no body, a body with no flesh, a mind inside an empty skull, and no heart in his chest. Yet he lives, somehow he lives, he has no choice. 

He also feels. His emotions weave through him, with no skin to shiver through and no muscles to clench they can overtake him like a wave. Where else does his music come from but his emotions? How else does he know he is truly alive without them? He has no belly to laugh from but he laughs all the same. He has no chest to ache with sadness but he aches all the same. No tear ducts to weep with yet it is impossible to prevent the flow. 

He feels purely through his soul, and sometimes if he does not think too hard he can almost feel his flesh sing with these emotions too, like a phantom limb all over him. 

He avoids thinking about the absence of the warmth of touch on his skin at all times. 

He spent 50 years alone, his bones picked clean and smooth, he cannot change what has happened. He is simply grateful he is no longer alone. 

“That’s beautiful” 

If Brook had eyelids he would have opened them but instead his gaze simply refocuses on the big blue shape that has moved in close to him here on the top deck of the Sunny. 

“Yohoho” Brook chuckles as he pulls his violin out from under his chin.

“Thank you Jimbei” he smiles (he can do nothing but smile in these bones) 

“Is that a new . . ah, piece ? that you’ve been working on?” Jimbei asks, his deep baritone voice rumbles and not for the first time does Brook find himself wondering if Jimbei would ever consider putting those big lungs to use in song. 

“I suppose it is” Brook inspects the instrument, plucks at a string with a bone pick of a finger. 

“I was simply going with the flow, I suppose” he says thoughtfully 

“Ah” Jimbei nods “I know all about traveling the flow . . “ 

Brook cocks his head curiously towards Jimbei, sensing he is missing something from the way the fishman spoke. 

“Helmsman joke” Jimbei smiles, an obvious reference to one of Brooks recurring bits, and then laughs. 

That glorious big belly laugh, his face turned up, eyes scrunched up, rows of sharp teeth on display. It’s one of the most intoxicating laughs Brook has ever heard and he never tires of it. 

“Jimbei you kill me” Brook teases as he laughs. 

Their laughter peels off as Brook turns to lounge against the railing Jimbei is leaning forward on. He picks the violin back up to tuck it under his jawbone and pluck it for tuning. 

“Oh, but wait, I already died,” Brook chuckles. 

This time Jimbei only smiles, a soft look. Brook redirects his gaze from the fishmans face before he can identify the moment that soft look turns to pity. He’s not sure if it will but he would rather not take the chance. He hears Jimbei take a breath as if to speak and braces himself for the concerned lecture, wise and careful, the way he has heard Jimbei advise Luffy and many others before. 

“Play me another” 

Brook turns to look at him again, unsure if the surprise is readable on his blank emotionless skull of a face. Jimbei is still smiling, open and gentle and bright, like a calm ocean at sunset. Brook busies himself with the G string immediately, trying to recover from being set so suddenly and unexpectedly adrift by the expression. 

“Of course my good sir!” Brook slips into an exaggerated character of himself, hamming it up as the merry musician of the Thousand Sunny. It’s safer there, when he is less himself and more of a performance of himself instead. Why would he explore his feelings when he can just let the Soul King express them for him. He strings out a merry tune for Jimbei, an old song about a drunken fisherman catching a mermaid for a wife, neither of them sure which one drinks more like a fish. It only occurs to him halfway through the song that this is a rather old one from before he died and could possibly be considered uncouth in Fishmen society today. 

However when he glances over at Jimbei he sees the man smiling with genuine amusement and laughing at the funniest moments. This is both a relief and also a curse as the sight of that smile sends goosebumps across his phantom skin. He takes a deep breath to steady his phantom lungs between verses and finishes off the song by pushing off the railing and dancing with aplomb. 

“Oh I enjoyed that very much” Jimbei chuckles and applauds with gusto. Brook does a few deep bows, in a very becoming and gentlemanly manner. He tries to remain composed but the sight of Jimbei so joyful has him almost twitching from the overstimulation. All these emotions with no body to express them. It almost feels like he wants to jump out of his skin . . oh but it seems he already has. 

Instead he decides to put his violin back into its case, taking care to tuck it into the shaped depression, laying the bow by its side. He finds himself considering how bonelike it is for this instrument to be compressed safely inside a perfectly shaped casing. He must have paused noticeably because he hears Jimbei ask, 

“Everything alright?” 

“Why yes of course! I simply grow tired of playing for the moment, perhaps instead we could have some tea?” 

“I would like that”

[calciumdeficientt]

Hey, Bif headcanons *slides a 503737494 dollar note* keep the change man

Gee thanks! I can’t wait to *checks smudged writing on hand* buy aguaburdy with this!

BIF TAYLOR HEADCANONS

Bif Bif he’s our man he’s our man who… cannot tan. It’s really sad, all the other preps can lounge freely in the sun and get various levels of luxurious tan while Bif… he just burns. If he doesnt apply countless coats of factor 50 suncream every hour or so he will go from milky white, to red, and then to blistered. There is no tan to be seen. Under the right conditions he does develop a smattering of cute little freckles but he never actually tans.

Bif prides himself on his boxing, in fact for a long while he put all his eggs in one basket and focused purely on the noble art. But he also plays a mean game of basketball, given his imposing stature. He doesn’t play often because there’s little to no preps that would even consider touching a basketball, let alone playing with it. He’s been told its improper for him to play more modern sports like basketball, so he doesnt bother with it much. He can only thrash Justin in a shootout so much before he actually feels bad for the guy.

He has to get all his pants tailor made. Not even out of a desire for them to be bespoke, they’ve got perfectly decent pairs of trousers at aquaberry, its more out of necessity. Bif’s height is oddly distributed, he’s got far more leg than torso, so most pants in his waist size when pulled up become capris. He had growth spurt after growth spurt as a kid so he’s no stranger to having things tailored (if you’ll excuse the pun), but now he’s a little older he does feel mildly left out when the other guys go out to buy their schoolwear and he can only purchase the top half of all his outfits.

Bif has a frequent flier card for rhinoplasty, he’s had countless nose jobs but just can’t seem to stop getting pounded in the face and wasting another 10 grand of his father’s money. Between surgeries, Bif does his best to draw attention away from his nose, not that anyone can really see that high anyway. It’s usually crooked, often tilted to the left but dependent on who he was last fighting it can sometimes skew right.

Derby wont be seen with him until he gets his nose fixed AGAIN so Bryce takes over as right hand man and Bif can get some much needed rest. He’s a very tired young man, especially as he spends most of his time following Derby around like a lapdog. And from all the boxing too, he trains seven days a week, often for up to nine hours a day. All that and school is enough to tire anyone out.

He has a shrine of his own achievements in his room at Harrington house, he doesn’t need to keep them, they’re also displayed at glass jaw, where he spends most of his time anyway. But he feels he has to keep them in his room to remind him that he is not, in fact, a failure and has accomplished many great things. Hanging around a guy as effortlessly self assured as Derby Harrington puts a lot of pressure on you, this is doubled by the fact that Bif has been the title holder for so long, he can’t relax, he can’t seem sure of his position, or he’ll lose it.

Collector and documenter of all things rap, well maybe not all things but he has a catalogue of a good few artists. His interest is mostly in the rap scene of the late 80’s to early 90’s with artists like The Notorious BIG, Ice Cube, Eminem and MF Doom as staples of his collection. He wish the preps weren’t quite so snobby about music, Bif genuinely believes that if they just tried to listen to some of the artists that they might genuinely really enjoy it. It’s all just poetry… often, violent poetry. Like war poetry, y’know?

Bif all likes to collect watches, they’re so effortlessly classy to him, and they can really elevate an outfit. It’s not often he gets to wear his watches, he’s fighting and training so often that he sometimes forgets to put one on in the few hours he has spare before he’s back in the ring. But for special events like parties, galas and other such fancy gatherings, he takes a good amount of time (heheh get it) to search for the perfect timepiece to go with his suit. The one he wears most often is a white gold rolex that Derby bought him for. Christmas when he was a Freshman, a ‘welcome to bullworth’ gift, if you will. They’d been tots together but up until then no one had really ever taught him to appreciate watches in the way Derby had.

[frogalor]

playlists i’m proud of:

west coast winter for the timeless days between christmas and new years / for the snowless california winters

bobcore darkwave vibes

feral girl fall ominous, off putting, and vaguely threatening is what we aim for

ayo who put this on at the gym??? just some girly (gender neutral) tunes to get me through a horrible workout

i’m a hickory just as well appalachian folk and bluegrass

dream queen mexicana y latine dreamy pop and r&b (Kali Uchis vibes)

yeeha cunty country (pre-2010s)

hot girl shit (self explanatory)

cigarette lounge dreamy, old timey vibes

in the meadow watching butterflies (ethereal romantic)

the main character just got an apartment upbeat indie pop

daisies dancing in a patch of diaries

gentle showers the soft spring rain that signifies the end of winter and everything becomes greener (soft r&b)

punk party my favorite upbeat modern pop punk songs (tssf, neck deep, movements, hot mulligan)

let’s pretend it’s a snow day just a west coast girly trying to romanticize her winter (semi indie pop vibes)

mistlehoe cunty christmas

stockings by the fire catch all playlist of christmas music (lots of repeat songs)

cigarettes & crisp air melancholic indie / alt

jumping in leaf piles perfect for movie-esque fall days

oh no it’s the season of the witch

let’s get spooky halloween songs

flannels & beanies mom, i wish it was a phase

tricks ‘n’ treats spooky adjacent indie & alt

abscission instrumental that feels like leaves gently falling

you’re stuck with me skyguy a goofy playlist of music i think Ahsoka would use to torture Anakin (with the help of the 501st) is she had the aux

pink something lgbt just happened to me

lonesome diner Bonnie Guitar vibes

softly old timey falling in love

fading flower in your feelings r&b

are you bored yet? indie pop (lots of Wallows)

we become the flowers soft indie vibes

bailazo regaaeton

beach bum beachy summer indie

cruisin’ motown and r&b vibes my parents raised me on

~groove~ some funky vibes my mom loves

Doo Wop Don’t Stop doo wop 50s-60s

lover boys lany x lauv (may spice it up in the future)

Shade a playlist for my favorite dnd character, it’s all over the place, but i miss her so much

[imobsessivesometimes]

Eazy-Duz-It // Logan Howlett x Reader

PT 4

a/n ok last of spam post as of 11/22/24 ('merican notation)

this chapter genuinely took me so long to write, writers block is so real

"Ok!" I clapped my hands to begin, "Since it's our first lesson, I think we should get to know what kind of music you like!" The kid in front of me was scrawny, grumpy, overall uninterested. Ororo told me the only reason why he signed up is because she asked. Guess the kid has a crush on her.

"I don't really listen to music." he remarked listlessly. He hunched in his chair like he was rivaling the guy from that Notre dame movie. It was hard to keep my eye from twitching. I have NO idea what I'm doing.

"That's ok! Yeah, that's, yeah, totally fine. I, uh, actually put together a list of a few songs that I think matches your--uh--vibe!" I grabbed the folder on the piano bench to my right, opened it and grabbed a semi-crumpled piece of paper out of it. "I had seen you in the halls a few times, Oror--I mean, Storm, Miss Ororo, Miss Storm? --anyways, she pointed you out to me and, well, just look at it." I put out the piece of paper to him and he grabs it limply. His eyes rack over the small list and looks back at me unimpressed. "Oh! Right, right, you don't listen to music, so obviously you wouldn't know most if not all of these songs. That's ok! We can listen to them on my speaker and that can be our lesson for the day. And maybe next time we can figure out if you'd like to play an instrument, which one, or if you'd like to sing." I take the piece of paper back from him. I stand up to go to the piano where a small speaker is perched on the top. I que a few of the songs and we started to listen. He slouched down further and crossed his arms. 

Dark Entries (Bauhaus)

The kid emanates a punk attitude. Ororo had mentioned he barely listened in class, didn't participate in exercises unless he wanted to, and he talks back to Charles Xavier. Maybe music that'll get him to stomp around and move will be what he needs.

As the chorus came on, I saw his foot start to tap to the beat, or at least what he thought was the beat. I could see the slight movement of his head rocking. I think I might've clocked what he'll like. I played a few more songs until our 50 minutes was up. I gave him the list again and told him to explore different artists within the same genre. He seemed excited to see me next week.

I lean on the door frame, watching him walk away. His head bopped a little bit, I could feel that his heart was still beating at the same bpm as the last song we listened to. It honestly made me happy to see. Maybe this faux-"music therapy" was going to work. Before I turned back into my little classroom, I heard a gruff voice call out to me.

"Hey, teach," Logan lounged down the hallway, quickly making it over to me in a few strides, "I see you got Jacob to sign up?" he smirked, clearly knowing the kind of kid he was.

"I wish, Ororo did, actually. I think the kid has a thing for her," I scoffed with a smile. Logan leaned against the wall next to the side of the frame I was against. "Not busy?"

"Nah, sometimes you gotta ditch your own class." he shrugged. This guy, I tell ya. "I forgot you got put down here. All good?"

"Yeah, thanks for asking. I didn't think you were the type to check on the noobie." I pushed his shoulder slightly. It was odd, though. The first impression I got from him is that he didn't give a damn about anything or anyone. Maybe Jean Grey, if my eyes are working properly.

"Eh, well, I thought I'd be charitable, for once." he shrugged, "I was told I need to be 'nicer'" he put in quotes, his eyes roll under his furrowed eyebrows. All in jest, I think. 

"Mm, that's sweet," I say, "Got some more time on your hands?"

He raises an eyebrow at me, "Why?"

"I just thought maybe you'd wanna listen to some music with me. I don't have any other students today, literally only one signed up. Maybe you'll be more motivated to work after." I shrug. I try not to let my nerves get the better of me. Asking Logan to basically hang out was not something I was expecting to come out of my mouth, but something in me wants to spend more time with him. Something in me makes me want to get to know him better, maybe even help him. Also, if students know that I'm buddies with the big bad Logan, they'll want to sign up for lessons with me!

Logan looked at me suspiciously. I purse my lips in a thin line with wide eyes waiting for him to answer. "I don't really listen to music, kid, hate to break it to ya."

"Literally no one here does," I push off the frame with an eyeroll. It's getting frustrating how none of these people want to even try to get into something new, "Well, I'm going to practice piano, or something. Have fun at-- well, at whatever you do," I still give him a smile before I retreat back into my room. He gives a grunt in response when I close the door. I plop down on the piano bench and sigh. 

Being in this mansion was starting to get suffocating. And being in this little room with one window felt worse than that stupid shipping container. Worse than anything that fucking "RainTec" did to me. I don't understand why no one has come to talk to me about, or even to see if I'm ok. I am, but it'd still be nice to be asked. I hope I'm not always going to be useless and invisible here. I'm hidden in the farthest corner on the highest floor of this place. It's a wonder why Logan was up here in the first place. Maybe he goes on walks or something, I don't know. He's a weird guy, nothing he does would surprise me, honestly. Well, except if he started acting like Ororo or Kitty.

I sat at the piano for a while; for how long, I don't know, I don't have a clock. My speaker pinged and a muffled voice came out of it asking me to go down to the Professors office. I think it might've been Jean who hacked into my speaker. After another second, I get up begrudgingly. Sitting in my wallows was more appealing, ignoring this would be stupid, though. Besides, it's probably something important. I quickly make my way down to the first floor where Charles' office is located. I open the door to a few people around his desk, looks like I'm the last to the party. Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Logan were the people I recognized. There was another young man, he was blue with a tail and sharp teeth.

"Y/n, I'm happy you could join us on such short notice. I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Charles Xavier greeted. He's always nice to me. Skeptically, he might be a little too nice. "I know you haven't had any training, but the x-men would be at benefit of your knowledge and abilities for this mission." he began to explain, "You wouldn't be put on the battlefield, you'd be conducting behind the scenes work from the jet." he smiled.

"Uhm, ok? What is this mission even about?" I asked.

"My apologies, I forgot you weren't here when I went over it with the other x-men. We've found a base of RainTec's that we have records of you being held there recently. We've gotten reports of mutant's captive there, the mission is to help them escape and bring the base down in the process." he finished. The Professor didn't seemed bother in the slightest by my connection to RainTec, not even by the fact that I was also held captive there recently. But, despite that, this could be a good opportunity to prove myself useful. Maybe by helping them with this, it'll show that I can help people. Logan said that the first step is wanting to help, I guess this is my second. "Are you willing to help?"

"Yeah, sure."