#I want the vinyl but I'll do that next month or something

[theirloveisgross]

i think you should all watch this. it's such a good and interesting video. and also, listen to their album, kthx.

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 1 wc: 1.9k

read the chapters here !!

you've recently discovered this record shop, the perfect place to find everything of the new kind of music you've just gotten into, rock. your friends wouldn't share this interest with you but maybe the cute guy from the store will.

━━ he/him pronous are used for ellie sometimes but it's for plot purposes i swear !!

BASED ON THE GUY SHE WAS INTERESTED IN WASN'T A GUY AT ALL !!!! i love that manga so much i needed an ellie version so i did it myself. of course this is going to be shorter and pleeaase go read it i swear you won't regret it <3 i hardly recommend you to listen to the manga's playlist too, i'll add some of the songs to this fanfic. literally all i want is my lesbians to have the recognition they deserve. ALSO green is the characteristic color of that manga so i'll be using it here too, everything will be green bc we love green lesbians.

another warning, english is not my first language so you may find some mistakes.

it's been a long day at school but at least the week of exams has ended and you've done pretty good. "i deserve a prize" you think to yourself while your feet guide you out of the building. certainly the exams drained you, the only thing you want to do now is take a long nap to catch up on sleep.

walking down the sidewalk, you put on your headphones which have been your best friends for the last few months when you discovered this band nirvana. it is in fact a popular band but in your friend group? no, not at all. your friends prefer other kind of music. pop, kpop, even jazz, but rock? impossible.

so you find yourself unable to share your new music taste with your friends. even if you beg them to give it a chance, they'll refuse it every time. this is definitely the worst, how are you supposed to fully enjoy this work of art only by yourself? they definitely don't understand what good music is, if only they gave it a chance you could-

just when the music from your headphones stopped, you could still hear one of your favorite songs smells like teen spirit coming from a... record store?

your mind is full of questions, since when has been this store here? this is just 5 minutes away from school and you've never noticed it. maybe this is the prize you deserve for having successfully passed all your exams. buying your very first vinyl will surely be the boost of serotonin you need.

you took off your headphones before getting into the store and quickly walked to check all the beautiful vinyls. the excitement could be seen in your eyes, all the vinyls of your favorite bands in one store and you're even considering finding a job, buying everything of this store is not a want but a necessity. this must be heaven.

after what felt like seconds but were actually 20 long minutes, you finally make your choice and find the vinyl that'll have the privilege to be your very first and most appreciated acquisition.

you turn around, walk towards the shop counter and just then realize how rude of you was not to greet the old man at the store. however, you don't care that much, he should understand that you were too excited to even speak and... was it an old man? did you even look at the person who was next to you the last 20 minutes?

"i'll take this" you place the vinyl on the counter before looking up at the person in front of you.

but now, you reassure one more time that you're not on earth anymore. this is definitely heaven, or maybe something greater because the angel in front of you isn't from this planet at all. green eyes, auburn hair drawn back in a messy bun, a scar on one eyebrow, black clothes with a nirvana t-shirt, an arm tattoo and a mask. this is the most gorgeous guy you've seen in your entire life and you were rude to him, you didn't talk to him for this entire time.

"i love this one" he gave you your new purchase in a bag "you have good taste" that raspy voice that'll live in your mind rent free for an eternity, you're sure about that.

meanwhile, your mind has been spinning for the last 30 seconds. a cute guy with a stunning style and majestic music taste, you've seen only his eyes but you can already imagine a life with him where you get married and play your favorite songs in your wedding.

"thanks, you too. bye" and just like that the conversation ended. you're definitely not the most flirtatious person but you didn't ask him anything, maybe it was too soon to ask for his number but not even his name? really? you can already hear your friends scolding you but at least you remember half of his face and that's enough to be delusional the following months until you find another crush.

8 in the morning and you've been talking for half an hour to your friends about this cute guy from the record store. of course they scolded you for not asking his name but your excitement couldn't be taken away that easily. no other boy from your school has ever made you feel like this, no one called your attention like he did.

"is there any possibility that you see your boy again?" dina, your best friend asked "and maybe ask him out"

"dina!" you frowned as if she had just said the craziest thing you've heard in your life "it's too soon for that. but as soon as i see him again i'll ask him his name" you started kicking your feet "and he'll fall in love with me."

dina and your bursted out laughing and spent the whole morning planning your future life with someone you saw once.

maybe you've been talking too loud or maybe she doesn't like you, but the girl next to you has been glancing at you and dina and she seemed a little too much interested in your conversation.

ellie. you've been classmates for almost a year but you two never spoke. she's like any other girl at school. she wears the same uniform as you, a white shirt and a gray skirt. she also wears these square glasses and she has her headphones on most of the time.

she seems like one of those nerds but one that doesn't participate that much in class. she comes to class, listens to the professors and goes home. you've never seen her talking to any other classmates but she seems comfortable only drawing on her notebook and listening to something on her headphones, it's not that you don't like her, but you haven't had the opportunity to get to know her.

but today she seemed quite distracted and instead of focusing on the class, she was focused on you. she seemed nervous, maybe she wanted to join the conversation and make some friends?

however, the bell rang. you were too busy talking about your new guy to try to figure out why ellie's been looking at you more than usual. you began to pack up your belongings; notebook, pencil case, some other books and, are you forgetting something?

the moment you're getting up from your seat, you can feel ellie's presence approaching you. you stare up at her for a few seconds and before you can say something, her hand reached your ear and put on one of your earbuds.

"you dropped this" your eyebrows furrowed, did she always had those pretty green eyes?

the song that you'd been listening on loop nothing at all was playing on your earbuds loud enough for her to listen to it "that song rocks, doesn't it?" and just like that she walked out the door leaving you completely confused. you're sure you've seen those eyes before, you think that maybe for a split second you stopped looking at ellie as your classmate and maybe... someone else.

on the other hand, ellie has been walking in silence staring at her feet while her mind is about to explode because the girl who sits next to her, her classmate and one of the most popular girls at school, has met and is interested in a guy who works at the record store. but no guy works there, just ellie.

she got a part time job and she's been working there for a few months but that was the first time she saw you there. you didn't recognize her though, since the style she has at her job is the opposite of the one she has at school.

probably the best option is to tell you the truth, the guy you're interested in isn't a guy and is actually the boring, nerdy girl from school, the girl you'd never talk to because that would only ruin your reputation, or at least that's what ellie thinks.

ellie thought that her job should be boring and only boring, she didn't want to have to deal with something else than that. and now that girl has a crush on her, or she has a crush on the person she thinks ellie is.

fortunately, ellie's job is calm. not many people visit the store so she spends her first hours of work tidying the place, not paying much attention to the store itself.

while cleaning at the back of the store, ellie heard the ring of the little bell on the door warning the presence of a client. she sighed and fixed her clothes before getting into the store again but got surprised when she noticed that the client was actually you.

if it weren't for the music playing at the store, the place would have been in complete silence. no one was on sight when you walked in so the sound coming from the back of the store scared you and you jumped. "you scared me, i didn't know you were here" you giggled nervously.

"have you been looking forward to it that much?" you were starting to stutter when the green eyed spoke in what seemed a flirty way. "no- i mean! the new foo fighters album" she interrupted herself "you were looking forward to it because you wanted to buy it, right?" she tried to hide her shaky voice, did she just accidentally flirt with you?

"i swear it's so good, you can hear it a thousand times and it'll still sound amazing. also, i know you like nirvana too because you bought the vinyl. you'll love it, i totally recommend it."

you were in a dream, did you just exchange more than two words with that guy? and he was showing a lot of interest it seemed unreal. you'd be a fool if you mess this up.

"i really want to buy it but uhm..." your pockets were empty, you spent all your money in that vinyl and being an unemployed student is not helpful to your situation "i'm a bit short of money right now" not to say that you're dry.

"i'm sorry but i-" yet she didn't let you finish your sentence "i bought this one for myself. you can have it and tell me your opinion when you return it."

he couldn't be more charming to you. only 5 minutes talking and you had already fell down on your knees. "thank you. you can give me your number so that i can bring it back." your hand sweating for you've finally made a move on who you thought was the guy from your dreams.

"no," no? he rejected you just like that, he didn't even a think a second to answer your question "it's just... i can't use my phone at work."

laying on the counter in front of you was a black ink pen which you quickly grabbed and started writing your phone number on his wrist next to his tattoo.

ellie looked at you stunned, she was glad she was wearing a mask because her cheeks had turned crimson. she noticed your hand shaking and that was the moment she realized the trouble she'd gotten into.

"i thought that if i wrote it on a paper, you'd lose it." the music playing in the background just made the atmosphere between you two dreamlike. you waved and smiled at him as you left the store hoping your burning cheeks would go unnoticed. not only did you have someone to share your interests with but also it was someone who you were crushing on really hard.

the first person on the taglist will be my editor/manager/first person who read this @ohnopoteito thank uuu 💋💋

[noirvouzzz]

Sunday Morning

Pairing: Campbell Bain x fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: After spending the weekend outside St. Jude's, you return to the asylum, excited to see Campbell and give him a small present you got him at a record store. However, when you walk into his room, you find him in the middle of masturbating.

Warnings: Caught male masturbation, implied non-virgin!reader, virgin!campbell, making out, (slight) hair pulling, dry humping, boob sucking, handjob, blowjob, mention of rough oral, kind of public? (they're in an asylum so idk), aftercare, fluff.

Word count: 3.7 k

Author's note: Hi there, it's admin Kyra! I wanted to start by letting you know that English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any mistakes. And I haven't written a fic in forever, so bear with me. I tried to make Campbells dialogues sound like his accent, but keep in mind that I'm not Scottish so I don't know if it's right :'). Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!! :D

You waltzed into the asylum door, holding your backpack tightly as you looked around the place. It seemed surreal, but you were kind of happy to be back. After getting a weekend pass, you thought they'd have to drag you back to this place, but living there for the past few months made the asylum feel like home. You skipped through the corridors, excited to find Campbell and tell him about the little record shop that you visited on your free weekend. You had picked up a small gift for him — a simple vinyl record keychain. While it wasn't extravagant, your budget had limited your options, and you couldn't wait to give it to him anyway.  Something that you hadn't expected was missing him so much. Seeing him every day made the absence of his presence over the last two days feel oddly unfamiliar. And, walking to the common room, you couldn't help but wonder whether he missed you too.  You tried to anticipate his reaction to your early return since you were supposed to come back after dinner, yet ended up deciding to do it a few hours before schedule. But, where could he be? He wasn't at the radio station because you could hear Francine's voice announcing the next song, and he definitely wasn't in the common room where you were standing. Maybe he was in his shared room, but that would be out of character for him. He wasn't the type to isolate himself in his bedroom, especially not in the middle of the afternoon. You thought that he could be playing the guitar, or he could have got a day pass and not be in the asylum at all. However, you decided to stop overthinking and just check his room; if he wasn't there, you'd just wait for him to return. Approaching the door, a fluttering sensation started filling your stomach while you held the wrapped keychain in your hand. You caught the sound of distant breathy groans and tried to peek through the small window, but the blinds were pulled down. Perhaps he was sleeping, but you still wanted to surprise him, so you pushed the door open and walked inside. 

Your eyes widened, seeing the scene that was unfolding before you.  The room was quite dark, only being illuminated by a little ray of sunlight that peeked through the closed curtains. Campbell was sitting on his bed, his cheeks pink and his mouth slightly open as he let out heavy, sharp breaths. His back was leaning against the headboard, which would make little squeaky sounds whenever he moved. Your eyes travelled down to his hands. His left one resting on his lower stomach, twitching slightly, and his right one moving up and down under his boxers, palming his cock before stroking it in slow and long motions.  Then, Campbell's gaze met yours. He jumped and quickly removed his hand from his underwear, before pulling up his trousers and draping the blanket over his body. 

“Lass!” He exclaimed and took an anxious breath. “ye're early.” Campbell mumbled with a mortified look on his face. His shaky arms tightly held the blanket to his chest. 

“Oh! So-Sorry I'll leave.” You let out, not knowing what else to do in this situation. Your cheeks were also pink now, and, as much as you wanted to turn around and disappear, your body wasn't responding. 

“Fergus sneaked oot… for the day, and I didn't think ye'd be comin' until dinner, so…” His eyes moved to your hand, and he tilted his head. “What's that?”.  You looked at the present and cleared your throat. With all this situation, you almost forgot about it. “What?… Oh… I got you something.” He leaned forward slightly and smiled.

“Aw, really? Yer so lovely.”

This was weird; should you just give it to him? The most normal thing to do would be to come back later, but you had been dying to see his reaction ever since you bought it. You awkwardly approached the bed and sat on the edge, handing him the gift without touching his hands. He eagerly took it and began breaking the wrapping paper with his still shaky fingers. Once the broken pieces of paper were scattered around the bed, he held the little keychain and looked at it with a huge smile on his face. “F-For the radio station keys” you quietly explained, looking at him. “Do you like it?”

“It’s brilliant; I love it! I'd hug ye right noo, but I haven't washed ma hands.” He responded, looking at you with a big happy smile. He loved it, and his excitement made you want to hug him too.

“I don't care, c’mere.” You opened your arms, and he quickly leaned forward and embraced you, holding you tightly while softly shaking you around. 

“Ye're too sweet!” He told you as he nuzzled the crook of your neck. His fingers started tracing circles on your back, which filled your stomach with butterflies. Campbell had always been clingy and touchy, it wasn't unusual for him to hug you or caress you. But you had just caught him jerking off, and you couldn't deny you liked the sight.

“Ye didnae have to get me anything.” He moved his face in front of yours and placed his left hand on your cheek. “I know, but I wanted to.” His thumb started brushing your cheek, and your breath got caught in your throat. Even though he was usually a bundle of nerves and energy, he was trying to be gentle and caring, as if he didn't want to scare you away. 

“Sorry for interrupting you." You joked in an attempt to make the whole situation less weird, but it didn’t help at all, as regret filled your whole body when that sentence came out of your mouth.  You should've shut up and avoided acknowledging what you saw, acting as if it never happened and never mentioned it again — or at least that's what you wished you would've done. But it was hard to avoid talking about the only thing that was on your mind when he hugged you, when he rubbed his hands on your back, and when you could feel his hot breath on your neck. 

“Oh, dinnae remind me,” he chuckled. "Sorry ye had to see that.” “It's fine; it was just kind of... unexpected.” He looked away and smiled.

“It was embarrassin’, ah'm still embarrassed.” “Don't be; you looked kind of hot.”  You let out without thinking and felt your cheeks burning. You didn't know why you said that; maybe you just wanted him to feel better. He obviously did look hot, that was true, but you would've never said it to his face. You usually tried to be more subtle, with some innocent flirting here and there, never like this.  He smiled, lifting his eyebrows. “Ye're sae mean.” His gaze shifted to your lips. “Teasin' me when Ah'm... like this.” He laughed quietly and briefly looked away.  Your lips parted after you licked them, and your heart started thundering in your chest. “I mean, it was a good sight.”  He lightly pressed his thumb against your lower lip, softly playing with it. “Ye didnae even let me finish before breakin' into ma room.” His hand held your chin and brought you closer. “I didn't break into-” You tried to finish your sentence, but the feeling of Campbell's mouth on yours interrupted you. He placed a quick kiss on your lips and moved away instantly.  “Shit— Ah'm sorry.” He said quietly, his voice barely a whisper, “I wasn't thinkin'.”  Campbell looked down awkwardly, he seemed more embarrassed about the sudden kiss than about you catching him in the middle of pleasuring himself.  You let out a chuckle and took his arm, pulling him closer again. “Shut up.” He looked at you with a puzzled expression, and you kissed his lips again, wrapping his arm around your waist and making him press you onto his body. He moved his free hand to the back of your head, his fingers scratching your hair as you intertwined your arms around his neck. 

You kept kissing for longer, lightly brushing your tongue against his lips, feeling his breath getting huskier and his grip squeezing you tighter. His kisses were a bit sloppy, you could tell that he was nervous and that he hadn’t done much kissing before, well, you knew that. He had shamelessly told you plenty of times how he couldn’t wait to get discharged to go to some party and lose his virginity.  He wanted to get drunk with his friends, meet a pretty girl to get her a drink, and take her home. And he was sweet about it, making endless unrealistic plans of spoiling that girl, taking her on holidays to the beach, and making her the happiest woman in the world. You had always fantasized about being that girl, wishing that he would see you the way you did, and getting a bit sad every time he talked about having to find her when you were right there, waiting. But now you were kissing him, and he was kissing you back. Leaning onto the bed, resting his back on the headboard, and pulling you against him.

Campbell hesitantly bit your lower lip, delicately sucking it into his mouth and trying not to hurt you, while you placed your hand on his chest.

“Y'okay?” He whispered after separating for a moment. He was still playing with your hair as he looked at you with his big brown eyes, eyebrows furrowing in worry.  “Mhm.” You licked your lips and gave him a small smile. “Are you?”  “Aye.” He smiled back and leaned in to kiss you again.  Campbell began to feel more confident, moving his hand up and down your waist and giving little caresses with his long fingers. His tongue was exploring your mouth, and his hand started sliding down your side and lingering on your lower half. You knew he craved to touch you, but he was too nervous to make a move. So you took his hand and moved it to your ass, which he instantly squeezed whilst he held your hair tighter.

You moved closer, sitting on his lap and sliding your hands under his striped T-shirt, sensing his skin quivering beneath your fingertips. Campbell pulled your head back by your hair and moved his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking, sending shivers down your spine. A little moan escaped your lips when he started nibbling your skin, which caused him to make his hold tighter. His eager lips released a soft groan as he pushed his hips up unconsciously, his body aching for some kind of friction to relieve the pain between his legs.  Your hand began sliding down his abdomen, resting on his lower stomach while tracing your fingers along his waistband. The more you moved with him and pressed your thighs against his legs, the wetter your soaked panties became.  You couldn't shake the mental image of him touching himself. You wanted to feel him, to get your hand under his pants, and make him squirm to your touch.  But this was his first time, and you were still in an asylum after all; going further was way too risky, but it was also so really tempting. As you kissed passionately, your bodies kept moving in sync, hips pressing firmly and rubbing against each other, making you both struggle to suppress the escalating urge to moan.  “…can I?” you murmured quietly, your fingers playing with the elastic of his pants while he moved to look at you with an amused expression. “Really?” His breath got caught in his throat, and he quickly nodded enthusiastically, “Aye, o' course.” While your gaze remained fixed on his face, your hand made its way to his groin, pausing there for a moment. “You sure?” You asked again.  Campbell tucked your hair behind your ear. “Aye, please,” he responded eagerly, “but ye dinnae have to do anythin' if ye dinnae want to.”  From his nose down to his neck, you planted soft kisses that turned into gentle sucking, causing small moans to escape his kiss-swollen lips. You then moved your hand to his crotch, pressing and palming it in a slow, rhythmic motion. With a long sigh, he squeezed your ass, his fingers sliding under your shirt to caress your skin. Heavy breaths escaped him as his digits toyed with the hem of your bra. “Can I touch ye? Please?” he requested breathlessly. You nodded towards his neck, feeling his hand slip beneath your bra, cupping your boob, and tracing circles with his thumb around your hard nipple. While you continued kissing his neck, you unbuttoned his jeans, and, with a lift of his hips, he helped you slide them down to his knees.  Campbell held the bottom of your shirt and glanced at you, silently seeking your consent to take it off. Once more, you nodded, raising your arms for him to swiftly remove the shirt and admire your body. “Yer so beautiful.” He whispered softly and began gently caressing your sides, his fingertips gliding over your skin as they returned to your bra. You gently stroked him through his boxers, moving slowly, sensing the tension in his muscles building. Gasping in your ear, he fumbled with his hands, the movement becoming sloppier as his fingers trembled slightly. He brushed them under the hook of your bra, locking eyes with you while you nodded once more. Your bra loosened, and he slid it down your arms, pausing to meet your gaze briefly before returning to fondle your breasts whilst planting kisses from your neck down to the curve of your collarbones.  Moving to your cleavage, Campbell's tongue brushed its way to your nipple. He grasped your breast with his big hand and sucked you into his mouth, flicking his tongue and letting out sharp breaths. 

“Is that okay?” he asked gently, looking up at you with a caring expression.  "Yeah,” you whimpered, and he smiled before going back to sucking on your nipples.  He was getting harder under your hand, wet spots forming on his boxers as you slowly palmed him. You were being painfully subtle, moving slowly and teasing him, enjoying the sound of his eager sighs and groans. So, with a tender touch, you slipped your fingers beneath his underwear, gently tracing along his lower abdomen without moving any further.  ��God, lass, ye're killin' me,” he whined, breathing heavily against your chest, “please, jist touch me already.”  Amused by his needy attitude, you decided to cease the teasing, planting a sweet kiss on the top of his head and removing his boxers. Looking at his arousal, you nervously bit your lip, your gaze switching between his hard cock and his hungry eyes. You took a deep breath and spat on your palm, and a sharp gasp from Campbell echoed at the sight. Your hand inched towards his erection, fingers brushing the underside of its length, provoking a responsive twitch to your touch. You softly held him, circling around the head, rubbing some spit and precum on it, and gliding your fingers along his sensitive slit.

Campbell quickly turned into a whimpering mess, attempting to stifle his moans while you barely even touched him. As your grip tightened slightly, moving up and down his shaft, his rhythmic breathing hitched, his body melting under your touch when you started going faster.  “Mmm… Jesus,” he whimpered, his hand trembling as it reached for your neck, caressing it lazily. 

“Is that good?” you asked with a cheeky smile.  His glazy eyes fell on yours, his lips parting slightly. “Mhm,” he whined, “it feels so good.” He jerked his hips in a slow rhythm, gently thrusting into your hand and panting with each motion.  “Really?” you responded in a playful tone, spitting on his cock again to keep your movements smooth. “Want it to feel better?”  Campbell’s eyes lit up, and he nodded almost desperately. His words caught in his throat; all he managed to respond was a faint “Please,” uttered almost silently. You scooted down from his lap, now kneeling between his shaky legs while you set your hair behind your ears. His mouth dried when he felt you placing a kiss on his tip. Moving quickly, he brushed your hair away from your face — putting it in a makeshift ponytail — and a low groan escaped him when he felt your breath on his skin, his cock twitching against your tongue as you brushed it up his side. Then, you made contact with his tip, swirling your tongue around the head and dipping it into his slit. You placed your hand on his hip, balancing yourself and finally letting him into your mouth. 

You began slowly, sucking gently and moving your head up and down while glancing up at him. He was admiring you, his slightly open mouth letting out grunts and sharp breaths when he ran his fingers through your hair. After a few minutes, you started bobbing your head in deeper motions, taking most of his length into your mouth and feeling it hitting the back of your throat. The room's silence was broken by Campbell's breathy moans and the wet sounds of your choking and slurping.

At that moment, everything about you appeared beautiful to him — your cheeks softly hollowing around his cock, the saliva running down your chin from your swollen lips, and your pretty watery eyes. With his free hand, he was using his thumb to gently dry your tears while using the other to guide your head, urging it to move faster. He was holding back, resisting the urge to hold your head and start fucking your throat, but he wanted to be gentle with you and let you take the lead, knowing that you had more experience than him and you definitely knew what you were doing. He wasn’t going to last much longer anyway; the feeling of your mouth and tongue all over his cock was too intense for him.

“Ahh… Ah'm gonna…” he whimpered, his eyes shut and his hand starting to grip your hair when his whole body tensed up.  You pulled him out of your mouth, still jerking him off. “Are you gonna come?” You teased him and kept stocking him quickly as he moaned, “Mmm… Aye, please… ahh” “Come for me, darling.” You groaned, letting him pound your hand until thick strands of come splattered over your palm and his shirt. Your hand kept moving up and down through his orgasm, slowing down until he collapsed onto the headboard with a little smile on his face, taking a moment to catch his breath and recover. “Ah… thank you” Campbell purred and opened his eyes. He glanced at his clothes, letting out a chuckle. “What a mess.” He murmured under his breath, removing his T-shirt and using it to wipe your chin, hand, and himself before planting a soft kiss on your lips.  “You’re so gross,” you laughed, “could've washed my hands.”  “No,  ye're no goin' anywhere." He threw his T-shirt on the floor and pulled you into a hug, holding you and eagerly placing a bunch of soft kisses over your face. “Yer so perfect.” "Relax, Campbell,” you grinned, and he continued squeezing you into his arms.  “I cannae,” he cheered and kissed you again. “Cannae believe this just happened."  “Okay, let’s calm down." When he loosened his grip, you drew him onto your body, cradling him while he rested his head against your bare chest. His pounding heart began to gradually slow down, and his embrace was no longer crashing you, so you covered yourselves with the blanket and kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling?” you asked, and he looked at you.  “Brilliant, Ah'm gonna remember this day forever,” he grinned and started caressing your arm. “Ah'm gonna remember the keychain, Ah'm gonna remember you coming through the door, Ah'm gonna remember yer pretty face…” 

With a smile, you held onto him, watching as he continued ranting and rubbing your skin with his long fingers. And then, you heard the sound of the radio echoing through the corridor's speakers. 

Up until that point, a stream of uninterrupted music had been playing. However, when Francine announced the final song, Campbell let out a sigh and buried his face against your shoulder.  Despite not wanting to acknowledge it, you knew that as soon as the show ended, the corridors would become crowded with patients and nurses. Dinner was about to start, and Isabel wouldn’t hesitate to walk in the room and drag you both if you weren’t there.  “We should get dressed,” you said, and he whined, squeezing tightly, “Come on, we’ll miss dinner."  “Ah'm really cosy,” he protested, nuzzling your neck. "Dinnae wanna move."  “Wanna get in trouble? You’ll miss your cocoa,” you responded, giggling and nudging his arm. He shook his head without looking up. “Get up then.”  Rising from the bed, Campbell began to get dressed, throwing on his colour-block hoodie and jeans. You, too, put your top back on and retrieved his dirty T-shirt from the floor. “You’re never getting the stains out,” you teased before tossing it into the laundry basket.  “I dinnae care,” he responded and walked to you, placing his hand on your cheek, “it was so worth it."  You smiled, he pecked your lips one last time. He took the keychain, adding it to his key, and placed them in his pocket. Then, he took your hand while opening the door. “Ready?” he asked, as he placed a kiss on your knuckles.  “Yeah, let’s go.”  Campbell gave your hand a squeeze and cheerfully walked you out of the room.  “Ach, I nearly forgot! How'd yer weekend go, then?” He asked, lovingly gazing at you while waiting to hear all of your adventures outside the asylum.  When you decided to return to the asylum before you initially intended to, you could've never expected for any of this to happen. However, as Campbell led you through the corridors with the happiest smile on his face, you realized that you had made the right choice, and you would not change it for anything.

This is the first fic i've written in ages so I hope you liked it. If you have any prompts for Campbell fics x reader fics let me know and ill take a look :). Like, rb, and follow if you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading!

[fairlyang]

Baby it’s cold outside 🕷️

miguel doesn't want you to go yet

w/c: 1.2K

pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. based off the song ofc, established relationship, convincing you to stay, you decline, back and forth, first time together, teasing, eating out

notes: I wrote this as my day one for smutmas but bc they’re all getting posted rn i won’t remake my smutober or smutmas masterlists bc they’ll look off😭

You pulled away from Miguel after making out for who knows how long, finally needing to take a breath, "Alright I think I should go." You breathe out and he shook his head.

"Baby it's cold outside." he mumbles before kissing you again making you smile.

You kiss back and bring your hands up to his cheeks, cupping them while his remained around your waist. Your legs were across his lap and he was laying back on the couch while you were against the armrest of the couch.

You pull away once again and lean your forehead against his, "I had a great time tonight."

He groans and holds on to you tighter, "just stay a little longer."

"My mom will get worried." you say and he shrugs.

"Let her." He whispers before leaving pecks on your lips.

"What about my dad's pacing?" You joke and he scoffs, grabbing your face gently and tilting it back.

His lips latch on to your neck, immediately sucking a pretty hickey on you before pulling away and kissing it. "Déjalo."

"I should really go." You sigh and he hums before moving one of his hands to sit on your thigh.

"Beautiful please don't hurry." He pleads but you shook your head.

"Well maybe half a glass more..." you tease and he grins.

"I'll play something on the vinyl while I pour it for you." He teases back making you laugh.

"What will your neighbors think?" You joke and he snickers.

"Baby it's real bad out there." He says and leans forward to the coffee table, serving you another glass of wine.

You hop off his lap and sit next to him, grabbing your glass then lay your legs against his lap. You take a sip and look at him, he was so fine.

The most handsome man you've probably ever laid your eyes on.

"Say whats in this drink?" You joke and he rolls his eyes.

You laugh as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him to insist you stay.

"Your eyes look like they have stars in them." He says softly, bringing your cheeks grow warm.

"I wish I knew how to break this spell of yours." You mumble and he grins.

Such a pretty smile.

Slightly crooked teeth but he looked gorgeous nonetheless.

You could stare at his face all day if you could. He somehow always had a smile on his face but in reality he just always had one when he was with you.

"I'll just say at least I tried..." you say making him chuckle.

"Sure, we'll go with that." He says and you lean over to return your glass back to the coffee table.

"Hardly even had to convince you, love." He whispers and brings a hand up to your cheek.

You melt into his touch and shrug, "maybe I just wanted to hear how bad you wanted me to stay." You whisper back and you could swear his cheeks were getting red.

The fireworks and butterflies in your stomach wouldn't stop fluttering and maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world to stay a while longer...

"Oh is that right?" He teases and brings his hand back down to your thigh.

"Mhmm." You hum and place your hand on tops of his.

You'd only been dating for a month and a half, yet to have any intimacy thus far but the sexual chemistry has been there from the very beginning and you were growing more and more impatient but also didn't want to do anything so fast.

Unfortunately Miguel makes it harder and is always testing the waters when he can.

Maybe now it was time for you to do the same.

He had given you a pair of shorts to wear comfortably since you were just watching movies and cuddling after your dinner date.

You wore them happily and even snatched up one of his hoodies that fit extra big considering he was a pretty big guy.

And because your legs were stretched out across his lap, the hoodie had riled up and your thighs were perfectly exposed for him.

You moved his hand higher up and let it sit there before spreading your legs out a bit. You lean up and whisper in his ear, "I think it's time we do a little more than tease each other."

"I think so too." He whispers back and lightly squeezes your inner thigh.

"You look so gorgeous in my clothes, it's been driving me insane all night." He murmurs making you fight back a moan.

"That's good to know baby." You coo and buck your hips up so he can catch the hint.

"Patience."

"I've been convinced to stay and now I have to be patient?" You whine making him smirk.

"Getting straight to business then?" He asks and you shrug.

"Why not?"

He chuckles and lets go of you, pulling your legs off him before he gets off the couch. He drops to his knees making your eyes widen but you gasped when he manhandled you to lay your back against the couch at an angle.

He then spread your legs apart and got between them. He started by kissing your left thigh and went up to your upper thigh then switched sides.

His hands were then on the waistband of his shorts you were wearing and you quickly lifted your ass up so he could slide them off.

He slid them off in a matter of seconds and his eyes rolled to the back of his head when he looked at your already glistening cunt. He cursed under his breath and without wasting any more time, wrapped his arms around your thighs and immediately dove in.

You gasped and brought your hands down to grip on to his hair. He moaned against you as he lapped at your folds and squeezed your thighs. You tugged on it and brought him as close to you as possible.

He moved up and the tip of his tongue licked your clit softly before he started to gently suck. You moaned and looked down at him, not able to believe this was finally happening.

After the amounts of teasing and grinding at clubs, you finally had him between your legs.

Sure that was the first thing you wanted when you met but you didn't tell him that and ended up with a beautiful relationship.

He was eating you out as if it were his last meal on death row and you were already regretting not doing this sooner. He was even better than you expected and it was only exciting you even more.

Suddenly you felt your orgasm quickly approach which made you squirm but he held onto you tightly. "Oh fuck- Miguel-" you moaned and grind yourself on his mouth.

"Yes yes yes-" you whimpered and then cried out as your orgasm hit leaving your entire body shaking.

He slowed down and left kisses along your folds which were dripping with more juices. He fully pulled away and his entire mouth was glistening making your face heat up. "Oh my god-" you mumble hiding your face embarrassed.

"Don't hide now love. That was better than I imagined." He said and stood up, then sat next to you.

You sat up and moved, laying your head comfortably on his chest while he wrapped his arms around your body. 

He licked off your juices with his fingers then got back to cuddling you as your breathing calmed down. He rubbed circles along your arm while you let your eyes flutter close.

"You're so perfect." He murmurs and that was the last thing you heard before passing out.

[vyl3tpwny]

why it ourple

ok.

i'm going to tell you the story of how purple became my favourite colour. and then, where the name vylet pony came from.

———————————————————

ch.1 the mace windu incident

once upon a time. I really liked star wars. i kind of still like star wars i guess. but when i was a kid, i REALLY liked star wars.

in my room, i had a mace windu poster.

i still can't find the exact poster. it looked something like this

mace windu was my fav star wars character for an inconceivably long time. with that, i also became fascinated with his purple lightsaber. nobody else had a purple lightsaber. i loved it. staring at that poster constantly made me really like the colour purple. ever since the poster started exerting its technicolour pressures and whimsies upon me, i became fixated on the colour purple. forever.

"hai!~ im mace windu and i loveee Videos!" - mace windu, star wars episode iii: revenge of the sith

———————————————————

ch. 2 the viny scratch era

fast forward like 7 years. i am in the my little pony fandom now. i am 13 years old. i really like vinyl scratch. she is pictured here:

my first online presence in the mlp community was as a vinyl scratch / dj pon3 roleplay account. for a good year, people called me vinyl and "vy".

however when it came time to start releasing music in the fandom, i couldn't go by vinyl scratch at the time. this name was already being used by the artist who currently goes by Scraton!

this is still one of my favourite songs by them:

anyway. i actually held a really insane, irrational grudge against scraton for being named "vinyl scratch" as a music artist before me. i got past that after a while, because i had to stop being 13 first. i stopped being 13 and eventually fell in love with their music and we became friends later after!

but it's 2013 and i can't be vinyl scratch anymore. people already called me "vy" because of being a vinyl scratch persona.

so.

———————————————————

ch. 3 it's vylet time-wait is that can opener? CANNI?

it started on december 28, 2012. i posted to my then-instagram account this image:

you may recognize this as my oc canni. here's their reworked look in the 2022 album (10 years later) can opener's notebook: fish whisperer (illustrated by @astroeden):

can opener's original name was "ultra vylet". their colour scheme was originally intended to be the inverse of vinyl scratch's, as a sort of strange protest to not being able to be vinyl scratch. i was like ok. well if i cant be vinyl scratch, i am going to make a character that swaps the main colours. within a few months of "ultra vylet" existing, i discarded the design in favour of a completely different one:

this would be the only time vylet consistently had purple in her design until 2018 or so.. lol.

then. on april 15, 2013, i posted this to my instagram:

i had essentially combined three things:

The fact the people called me "vy'

The fact that my favourite colour is purple (violet)

The fact that I wanted to be vinyl scratch (dj pon3) before

———————————————————

ch. 4 vylet pony ≠ vinyl scratch

that is to say, i never really put a lot of thought into "vylet pony" as a name. i just made it when i was 14 and now i am going to be 25 soon. will i keep vylet pony as a name forever? not sure. do i take great pride in its insanely snarky origin? absolutely.

after i had decided firmly on "vylet pony" as a name — after dropping the "3" from it — i made a new instagram account. the very first thing i posted to it was this:

illustrated by my friend, shade.

now that looks slightly vylet-like, design-wise, oc-wise. oh. but now she is grey and black? ok.

she stopped being purple from 2013-2018.

here is how her design progressed through the years:

the first one is by my then-partner sara. this is when vylet's cutiemark was still an upside down music note, reflected from "ultra vylet" / can opener's original design. i'll show how it became a puzzle piece next.

the second one is by shade

the third one is by chibadeer

the fourth one is by astroeden

———————————————————

ch. 5 the puzzle piece

to this day, i still cannot find the fanart in question. but over instagram, someone asked to draw fanart of my pony. in doing so, they misconstrued the shape of the upside down music note as a puzzle piece, like this:

i've been looking forever for the original fanart/fanartist that made this mistake. because ever since that art, i just stuck with it anyway. i like puzzles and puzzle games. i'm also a puzzling and enigmatic person. and the puzzle piece can go into so many different things. all sorts of problem solving is like a puzzle. music fits neatly into that category in my opinion. so because of its intrigue and ability to mean so many different things, i just went with it. i never looked back.

———————————————————

ch. 6 that is the history of the colour purple and vylet pony character design

i hope this answers the question "why it ourple"!

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 28 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2167 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

For the first time in days, I felt something beyond apathy, even if it was a messy mix of sadness, anger, and confusion. How could he think I hated him? How could he think I didn't love him, that he wasn't enough, that I wouldn't do anything to have him around? It wasn't fair. It was tearing me up inside.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle

✧ On the night that we met / I looked cool, rolling cigarettes / You were fooled by my jokes / I was too, I didn't know you / And I woke up alone / In a frozen, broken home / And my cousin gave me the flu / So, I flew back to L.A., but not back to you ✧

Cliff stuck around for most of the next week. If my parents found it odd that I moved back in with them and got dumped by my boyfriend out of nowhere, they didn't say a word. Honestly, I hadn't seen them so thrilled in ages. Yet, in my bitter and gloomy state, I could only picture that their joy, especially my mom's, had more to do with having me back under their thumb, away from friendships and romances they didn't approve of, than actually having their daughter back in their lives.

A couple of days later, Cliff and my dad rolled out to grab my stuff. I felt kinda bad for dragging Cliff into all this mess; first, he drove all the way from LA to Long Beach to bring me home on that rainy Sunday, and then he had to make the trip back to LA to snag my motorcycle and all the other junk still hanging around the apartment Dave and I used to share. Even if I had the guts to go, I knew Cliff and my dad wouldn’t have let me. So, I just stayed behind in Long Beach, sprawled on my bed, watching the sunlight lazily dance across the ceiling, the hours ticking away without any real purpose.

Of course, Cliff offered to help me unpack everything afterward; I figured he just wanted to make sure I wouldn't try to tackle it solo. I'd been so zoned out and drained during the last few days that anything that could be remotely unsettling to me had become a shared concern between him and my parents. I played it cool, ignoring the hushed comments they exchanged when they thought I couldn't hear; their worries about how fragile I supposedly was, that I might not be strong enough to bounce back.

I just sat on my bed, watching in silence as Cliff lugged in box after box; my clothes, my records, my whole life from the past few months, all packed and sorted like it meant nothing. He dropped the last box on the floor with a grunt before settling down next to me on the bed.

"Ready?" he asked, his fingers running through my dark brown hair, untangling some of the knots that had formed in the past few days. Despite my mom's attempts to help me, I hadn't mustered the strength to care about my appearance lately. I shook my head no, my gaze unfocused, and Cliff held my hand before saying, "Hey, it's okay. We can head downstairs, grab a bite. What do you think?"

"No," I murmured, my voice coming out hoarse and faltering from lack of use. "No, let's get this over with now."

"Okay," Cliff said, getting up, seeming pumped that I had finally said something. It hit me that those were indeed my first words of the day. "I'll grab this box with your clothes, and you can sort out that small one over there."

I sighed, giving a nod. Despite not being a pro at organizing my room, Cliff kept pushing to shield me, tackling the bulkier and trickier tasks. It didn't really lift my spirits; if anything, I felt guilty for piling all this work on him. But I pushed those thoughts away as I sat on the floor, cracking open a box and checking out what was inside.

I let out a sigh when I stumbled upon my vinyl record collection, and there was my jewelry box tucked into an extra space. I grabbed it, popping it open and blinking when I found an envelope inside. I tore it open, pulling out the blue necklace Dave had given me for my birthday. I hadn't worn it when I went to grab my jacket at Mike's house, but now its chain was broken, and that made my throat tighten because I knew it was intact the last time I had it on.

I couldn't help but wonder if Dave had broken it, if his anger toward me was so intense that he wanted to wreck one of the gifts he'd given me. Giving the envelope a shake to be sure there was nothing else inside, a little piece of paper tumbled into my lap. I picked it up, curious, my eyes filling with tears as I read what was written on it.

I'm sorry for being such a shitty person. I never meant to hurt you; I'm so sorry I wasn't enough. Just please promise you won't forget me, or at least that you won't hate me forever.

I started bawling before even finishing the note, tossing the paper away. For the first time in days, I felt something beyond apathy, even if it was a messy mix of sadness, anger, and confusion. How could he think I hated him? How could he think I didn't love him, that he wasn't enough, that I wouldn't do anything to have him around? It wasn't fair. It was tearing me up inside.

Cliff swiftly ditched the box he was packing and plopped down next to me, giving me a tight hug, pulling me close to his chest as tears rolled down my face. He hoisted me up like it was nothing, carrying me over to my bed and lying down beside me, wrapping me up in his arms and whispering that everything would be okay. I could barely hear him, though, drowning in my own distress.

It took a while for me to calm down, but he didn't leave my side for a second, his fingers running through my hair in a comforting move as I buried my face in his chest. When my tears finally dried up, all that lingered was silence; silence and exhaustion as I tried to brush off the pulsating emptiness in my chest.

"Maybe you should talk to him," Cliff finally murmured, sounding hesitant, like his words might trigger another round of tears, which, honestly, wasn't too far off the mark. "If you like him so much, you should talk to him."

"Cliff, I can't... I can't do it," I whispered, my voice faltering. And it was true; I couldn't talk to him without breaking into tears. Worse, if he didn't want to listen, if he didn't want to believe me, it felt like I could shatter into a million pieces. All I wanted was to have him back, but I didn't know what I would do if he rejected me, if nothing worked out, and that scared me beyond words.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry," he said, kissing my cheek and holding me close. "It will pass, I promise. Everything will be okay."

I gave a nod, sniffling as I wiped my face, that same apathy from before hitting me even harder. But Cliff's embrace made me feel a bit better. It was like slipping into something familiar: the scent of his skin, his hair, just like back in the day when we were kids and used to crash at each other's places, just to end up sleeping on the same bed. I couldn't help but feel grateful he was there with me.

"You know..." Cliff started, then hesitated. "James really cares about you. You know he didn't want this to happen, right?"

I stayed silent. Thinking about James over the past few days was something I consciously avoided, mostly because I was pissed. Not necessarily at him, but more about how everything went down between us. He'd tried calling me a few times since Sunday, but I swerved all his calls. I just didn't have the energy to deal with him right now, to unravel the whirlwind of emotions he stirred up. And I knew that, despite all the pain from the breakup with Dave, my feelings weren't any less intense: I still loved him, and that hurt me the most.

Cliff didn't push it. We just hung there, wrapped up in each other's arms until I eventually crashed out. Despite it all, being with him made me feel secure; sheltered and loved, for the first time since everything went sideways.

Things didn't exactly get easier after Cliff left. He didn't want to bail, but I knew he had band commitments and, let's be real, there was no legit reason for him to keep babysitting me. Those wounds weren't magically gonna heal overnight, after all.

December rolled in, and my parents decided to whisk me off on a European trip to shake things up. Yet, despite the change of scenery, it was hands down one of the crappiest New Year's of my life. I'd paid a jeweler to patch up the chain of my necklace, and started wearing it as a bracelet all the time. At first, that hurt too, but as days rolled by, the pain and sadness twisted into a strange kind of fondness.

Post New Year's, we rolled back to Long Beach. While my parents were busy fine-tuning their grand plans for my education over the next few years, I was on a mission to piece myself back together, bit by bit. Long Beach hadn't changed much in a year, and I found myself gravitating back to some of my high school buddies. Charlotte, a Drama Club friend, became my main go-to. She'd hopped on the theater train after graduation, and I started tagging along to rehearsals, first as a spectator, then as an assistant.

Most importantly, I dove back into art, especially drawing. Most of the time, I ended up sketching everything I could recall about Dave — his hands, his hair, his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his nose crinkled when he grinned. All the things I longed to have back. All the things I couldn't bear to forget. Turns out, my drawing and painting skills, though a bit rusty from the neglect, hadn't completely ditched me.

The end of January rolled in fast. On a particularly chilly and gloomy day, I got a call from Cliff.

"Hey, Nore," he greeted me, the usual laid-back tone in his voice.I could almost picture him chilling on the couch, probably puffing on a cigarette while holding the phone with one hand. "How are you?"

"I... I'm okay," I replied, though the truth was, I was still working on getting there. "And how 'bout you guys?"

"Ah, we're good. Same old," Cliff answered. I hesitated. I almost asked if he had any news about Dave, but then it hit me — I was scared as hell to hear the answer. Scared he hated me. Scared he forgot me. Scared he moved on, or worse, still loved me. So, I didn’t ask, and he didn't tell me. "Listen, I got an invite for you."

"An... Invite?" I asked, a bit on edge. I'd been cocooning myself in a bubble for the past few months, keeping crazy busy to dodge thinking about all the drama with me, Dave, and James. I wasn't sure if I was ready to peel away from the safety of that isolation, but I figured I might as well hear Cliff out. "What invite?"

"Well, the guys and I locked in a tour... in Europe. Just a handful of gigs, you know, but I was thinking if you'd be up for joining us."

"Oh. I literally just got back from Europe, Cliff. Spent New Year's there."

"Really? I had no clue," the classic irony in his voice made me scoff, rolling my eyes. "I won't bug you if you're not up for it, but it's gonna be our first international tour. Oh, and we're opening for Venom, by the way. I just reckon you'd be a dummy to pass on this chance."

"Alright, fine. I'm in," I agreed, more to keep him happy than for any other reason. My stomach did a bit of a flip, the thought of facing Lars, Kirk, and especially James again stirring up a cocktail of excitement, nervousness, and anxiety. "But you gotta work your magic on my parents."

"I've already had a chat with them. Your old man thought it'd be a good plan for you to shake things up a bit. It's just ten days; we'll be back before you know it. Deal?"

"Okay," I murmured, trying to suppress the little grin that insisted on spreading through my face. "I'll go, then."

"Cool, I'll tell the others," Cliff replied, his laid-back tone now tinged with excitement. "I'm stoked you're coming... Missed you, you know?"

"Yeah, I missed you too," I said with a smile.

For a second, it almost felt like I could shove the sadness that had been trailing me for weeks into the background. I'd been to gigs before, sure, but tagging along on a tour was a whole new deal. And hell yeah, catching Venom live, one of the bands the guys and I worshiped, got me buzzing. Maybe, just maybe, letting myself get swept up in this distraction wasn't such a bad idea.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to start living again.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777

[slowburningechoes]

Me again 😜

Can I get uh virgin spencer that admits he’s a virgin at truth or dare and then sees the reader naked for the first time by accident at like a Christmas party at readers house and then read they make love while lovers rock by tv girl plays in the back preferably on vinyl with pet names like love and praise kinks and some soft sex

Love you fr merry Christmas 🙏🏽🙏🏽

merry christmas to you as well! full bau christmas party + 1 on 1 spencer goodness here we go! i included the song in your other request since it felt more fitting, but this title is a lyric from baby its cold outside! cw: virgin!spencer x bau!reader, exhibitionism, praise, oral sex (f & m), love making, unprotected sex (safety first pls), piv intercourse, loss of virginity word count: 3.4k

bound to be talk ❆

"You seriously want to play 'truth or dare', Derek? How old are you again?" you tease, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

"Hey, now! I just figured it'd be a good way for all of us to get to know the newest member of our team and for you to get to know us," Derek responded, raising his eyebrows as he sipped his old fashioned that Rossi had made.

Emily rolled her eyes before sitting her glass down on the coffee table, "Oh, what the hell. Let's do it.”

You were suddenly glad you bought extra lounge chairs for the living room when you moved in three months ago, but it still wasn't enough for all seven members of your team, which left Spencer and you seated on the carpet.

"Who better to start with than the hostess herself?" Rossi insisted, winking at you playfully.

Penelope cozied into the couch and agreed excitedly, "Yes! Yes! Truth or dare, y/n?"

You ponder for a moment, anxiously considering whether it would be better to risk having to do something proposed from the mind of the ever creative and chaotic Penelope Garcia or spill potentially your deepest darkest secrets. "Truth." Who knows what she would come up with for a dare?

"Hmmm... who do find most attractive on the team? Be honest... as long as its not Chocolate Thunder here," she jokes, patting on Derek's thigh beside her.

"Play nice, hot stuff," Derek warned, pulling her closer to him.

"So?" Penelope inquires, not forgetting her original question.

You look around the room and see your teammates eagerly waiting for an answer, a very tipsy JJ trying to hold her giggle back against the rim of her wine glass. Spencer, seated next to you, was the only one not staring at you as he tapped his fingers across his thigh.

All eyes on you, your heart begins to beat a little faster and you blurt out your answer, "I think I'd have to choose... Spencer."

The room bursted into suggestive "ooo"s and teasing comments from everyone except Hotch who observed with a half grin on his face.

"Get 'em, pretty boy!" Derek hollered, raising his glass to cheers Spencer but he did not reciprocate.

Spencer's face was flushed a bright pink and he dodged everyone's eye contact with a bashful look.

"Why don't you give him a kiss?" Emily suggests, half out-of-it from all the red wine.

"No," you oppose, trying to play off the whole situation as Penelope started to motion in agreement with the suggestion. "No, you can't do a truth and a dare in the same turn!"

Penelope sighed, "Fiiiineee. Reid is next!"

"Truth," he lets slip before the game's question can be asked, not wanting to play into the kissing dare.

"How's that love life of yours going, then, Reid?" Derek proposes in a joking tone. "Get laid yet?"

"I-," is all Spencer can say.

"Come on, Morgan, don't be mean!" JJ insisted, slapping Derek on the shoulder.

"I'm not! I genuinely want to know!" he argued back. "Maybe our new friend could help him out."

"Derek!" you scoff before looking back towards Spencer who had pulled his knees up to his chest and under his chin. "How about a different question, hm?"

"No - no, I'll answer," Spencer mumbles, just loud enough to hear. "No, I haven't. I'm just waiting for someone... special."

"Oh, well that's sweet, pretty boy," Derek chuckles.

"Not everyone wants to have a different woman every night," you say.

"You callin' me a dog?" he responds, surprised by your assumption.

"Not at all, just some people have more feelings tied to sex than you do."

The game continued without another tense moment, but Spencer remained quiet through most of it - practically taking himself out of the game entirely. You were worried about him. Even in the short time you'd known him, you had never seen him be so reserved, only exchanging brief words with Hotch before he left the party early to be with Jack. He even downed an old fashioned when he hated liquor. The rest of the team was too tipsy to acknowledge the changes in his behavior, but you were sober enough to still be observant. As the party began to wind down and your teammates flowed out of your apartment to catch an Uber home, you decided to go ahead and change into your nightwear.

Your room was dimly lit as you entered it and placed the needle down to play your Christmas Essentials vinyl. You were relieved to be getting out of your dress as you unzipped it. You shimmied the dark red fabric down your body and kicked it off from your ankles. As you worked down your festive tartan cheeky underwear down your thighs, your bedroom door suddenly swung open.

Shocked, you attempt to cover yourself before even looking to the doorway, grabbing your emerald silk robe beside the mirror and draping around you. But your attempt was in vain, there, standing in the doorway with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, was Spencer. You both stood there for a moment, looking at one another and then at your body and back up again.

"I-I'm so sorry, y/n," he babbled. "I thought this was the door to the bathroom. "I thought this was the door to the bathroom."

"Oh, t-that's alright. Its the one on the other side of the hall," you point to the door opposite yours.

But he didn't move. It was almost like he couldn't, like his feet were glued to the floor.

"Are you alright?" you ask, moving closer to him. Your step made him take one backwards. "Spencer..."

"Yeah, I uhm - I should really get going. I'm sorry again," he rambles, turning to head back down the hallway and towards the door.

"Wait," you lean forward and wrap your hand around his wrist, pulling him into your room. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

Spencer didn't speak for a moment, actively trying not to stare, darting his eyes from your face and to the ground frequently.

"It's nothing - really," he attempts to reassure you, cracking a fake half-smile.

"You can't lie to a profiler, Reid," you tease, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He was quiet once again and then glanced down at the hand you had placed on him.

"It was about Derek's question earlier," Spencer mutters. "T-thank you for what you said... sometimes its hard to talk about."

"It was nothing," you smile. "I understand how you feel. I'm not much for hookup culture, either."

"No," he looks down again, avoiding your eye line. "I don't think you fully understand - I'm a... a virgin."

You were surprised to hear that Spencer was a virgin - after all, you did choose him as the team member you were most attracted to. Despite his awkward nature and his tendency to ramble, you were shocked no one found them as endearing (and a turn on) as you did.

His insecurity was visible as his strong shoulder shrugged inwards and he chewed lightly on the inside of his mouth.

"Spencer," you move your hand to cup the side of his face, bringing his golden brown eyes to meet yours, "that's nothing to be ashamed about."

He placed his large hand on top of yours. "I know - it's just a little embarrassing to talk about with the team... especially Derek."

"Well, it shouldn't be. I know I haven't been around long, but I hope you feel safe talking about these kinds of things with me," you said.

"I do, actually -," Spencer began, leading your eyes to widen with anticipation, "I - no, no... nevermind, its stupid."

"That doesn't seem like you feel as comfortable as you say," you say matter-of-factly, raising your eyebrows.

Spencer hesitated, but began again, "I do feel safe around you - in general, not just talking with you after all these months. And I find you attractive as well - maybe Derek's suggestion wasn't so ludicrous..."

You caught on to where his rambling was heading and you reached up on your tiptoes to bring him in for a deep kiss. Spencer's entire body went stiff for a moment from the unexpected contact, but eventually you felt him relax under your touch, his hands moving down to lightly grasp against your waist.

"I don't think it was," you respond as you pull away from his lips.

"Please don't stop kissing me," Spencer mumbled, leaning down and bringing you back in desperately, his mouth parting slightly and slipping his tongue in methodically. This elicits an unconscious moan to escape your lips. "God, make that sound again." So you do, which intensifies your exchange of kisses.

You find your hands beginning to unbutton his white and green plaid button down before you can consciously make the decision. You stop yourself for a moment to ask, "I-is this okay?"

"Y-yes," Spencer whispers breathlessly against your cheek. "Yes, please."

You oblige, continuing to strip away his top until his bare soft chest was in front of you. You placed your hands against it as you kissed him harder and pushed him down on your bed. As his eyes opened, you began to untie the silk ribbon that held your robe together.

"Y-you don't have to," Spencer said, looking up at you with wishful eyes. "If you don't want to."

"Oh, Reid," you utter softly, slipping a shoulder of your robe off. "I really, really want to."

With the drop of the other shoulder, you stood beside the bed completely bare before him again and his look was the same as it had been in the doorway just a few minutes earlier - in awe.

"Your body is more beautiful than I could have imagined," he whispered, moving towards the edge of the bed. His fingers moved towards your body, but they lingered about an inch away from your breast as if he was nervous to touch you.

"You've imagined it, hm?" you smirk down at him, yielding another look of desperate need from him. "You can touch me, Spencer. Please touch me."

He doesn't need to be reminded again, placing one of his hands to cup your breast and thumbing over your hardened nipple. You groan at the stimulation and run your fingers through his hair. Before you can give him more directions, his mouth moves to wrap around your other breast, tongue swirling slowly around the same area that had motivated the moan from just seconds ago.

"Spencer," you whimper, tugging on his hair firmly but gently.

"Y-yes?" he said breathlessly, pulling away reluctantly. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no - you're doing everything just right," you reassured, lifting his chin with your finger and thumb. "Just lay back."

He obeyed, leaning back onto your pile of pillows and propping himself up on his elbows. He still had his pants on, but you were quick to change that, working his belt off and undoing the button before Spencer kicked them off himself. His boxer briefs were strained from his bulge waiting to be freed. You looked up at him for permission and he nodded insistently. You worked them down, his impressive cock slapping up past his navel. The air hitting him suddenly caused him to grow harder and his head to throw back in anticipation.

"I'm going to take you in my mouth, okay?" you ask, wanting him to have a say so in every decision.

"Mmm, okay," Spencer managed to say through his want.

You cozy yourself in between his thighs and hover your lips above his shaft before licking a stripe up it. A guttural groan propelled from his throat and his dick twitched against his stomach. You roll your tongue around his swollen tip before closing your lips around him and working down his length.

"Holy shit," Spencer cries, reaching down to tangle his fingers into your hair. "T-that feels so good, y/n."

You hum in satisfaction against his length, causing a vibration to ripple down to his core and another feral moan to echo from him. You lower your mouth on him again and again at a pace that makes him latch onto the sheets as well, but you don't want him to finish just from your mouth so you pull off with a pop.

The lack of stimulation makes Spencer cry out pitifully and buck his hips upward.

"I'm sorry, baby," you comfort, caressing the side of his face. "I just want you inside of me."

"God - fuck," Spencer mewled, leaning up to kiss you fiercely on the lips before moving to trade places with you.

His body heat had kept the bed warm, allowing you to get cozy as he adjusted himself over you. He seemed reluctant to touch you at first, until you gave him instructions.

"Take two of your fingers and feel me," you suggest, guiding his hand down to your core.

The pads of his fingers opened your folds and ran up your slit, gathering your wetness on his fingers.

"Oh - oh my god, you're soaked," Spencer states, his eyes blown with lust.

"Do you like it?" you inquire and he nods enthusiastically. "Try a taste."

His eyes shoot up to look at you and his eyebrows lift up curiously. You grab the hand he used and bring it up to his lips. He catches on, parting them and taking the two fingers into his mouth. An audible moan of satisfaction is the result and it makes you even more aroused.

"Fuck - it's like nothing I've ever tasted before, but I love it," Spencer rambled, moving his face down to be level with your pussy and flattening his tongue against your core.

"Spencer - baby," you look down at him, stunned. "How did you know to-"

"Just because I'm a virgin doesn't mean I don't study, angel," he smirks up at you mischievously, before drawing his fingers up to your clit which made your toes curl. "And that there holds about 10,280 nerve endings just waiting to be stimulated."

"As much as I love your tangents, Dr. Reid, I need your mouth here," you motion to your aching center.

He doesn't say another word, going down to lap at your wetness. Spencer skillfully moved in between sucking your clit softly and massaging your entrance with his tongue, which made your legs squeeze around either side of his head. When he added fingers to the mix and began pumping into you, you grew closer and closer to coming but Spencer broke away before you could finish.

You whimpered with dissatisfaction before saying, "Are - are you sure you haven't done this before?"

Spencer rolled his eyes and moved up to become face-to-face with you. "Believe me, I haven't."

"Mmm, but your skills say otherwise."

"Like I said - studying," he flashed you a devious grin and began placing kisses down your neck.

"God, I can't believe the BAU's resident genius watches porn," you kid, trying not to fold to subconscious pleasure.

"Study, not watch - but that's beside the point." Spencer dismissed before reaching down and began to rub his cock along your slit, the tip rubbing against your clit perfectly.

You found your legs opening more and more for him as he pressed himself into you. You could tell by the size of him that it would take a moment to adjust, but the feeling of being stretched out so slowly was the most euphoric pain. Apparently he felt the same, muttering curse words under his breath and working deeper into you at an agonizingly slow pace. As he bottomed out, his tip brushed against your cervix gently which caused you both to moan loudly. Before either of you moved, Spencer intertwined his fingers with yours, locking the hand hold securely. As he made his first soft thrust, a wave of ecstasy flooded across your body. You felt as if you were melting into him and mending to become one.

"Y/n - angel, oh my god," Spencer calls out, gripping his other hand onto the headboard of the bed.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he continued to pump into you deep and slow. This wasn't fucking, it was love making and it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. Your body was numb with pleasure and all that consumed your thoughts was him. Sure, you'd thought of him sometimes when you touched yourself late at night or in the shower, but nothing was as all-consuming as this - as having him inside of you.

"Baby, you're doing so so good," you whimper, reassuring him.

"You feel amazing," he responded, his brow speckled with sweat. "I-I'm close, angel."

"You know - you can cum inside me," you whisper in his ear, before taking his earlobe between your teeth and nibbling lightly.

An unhinged groan escapes him at the thought of emptying himself in you. "F-fuck, really?"

You nod quickly and wrap your legs around his waist securely. "Mhm, I never miss a day."

Spencer thrusted into you deeper than he had so far, causing you to moan out his name loudly.

"Say my name again - please," he requested breathlessly, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and his whimpers desperate.

"Mmm, oh god, Spencer. Cum for me, baby," you cry, your high approaching quickly as the curve of his dick hit your sensitive spot repetitively and with the perfect pressure. "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer..." you begin to babble incoherently as your toes curl under and your hand squeezes tighter against his.

Your climax took over and you felt your walls close around his pulsing length, sending him into his own orgasm. His muscles tensed and he grunted lowly as he emptied himself inside of you, his cum providing the most satisfactory pressure you'd ever felt. You loved being full of him, even after he cautiously pulled out of you.

Spencer moved down to lay beside of you, bringing your head to rest against his bare and damp chest. His fingers ran through your hair and he hummed along to the record player, which was conveniently playing "Baby, It's Cold Outside".

"Would you want to... stay the night, maybe? It's already 1 am and it is pretty cold outside," you pose, glancing up at him with hopeful eyes.

A genuine smile forms on his face and he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. "I would love to, y/n."

Before you could respond, the infamous door swung open again and you gathered the comforter up higher on your body. Peaking from behind the cover, you saw a very intoxicated Emily draped over the doorway, barely standing up straight.

"No fucking way," she giggled, a hiccup following right afterwards.

"Shit," you muttered. "I didn't know you were still here, Em."

"Obviously! I-I was, uhm, vomiting in your bathroom... and maybe a little in your kitchen sink..." she explained, her words slurred. "Oh, JJ is never going to believe this one."

"Do you need me to call you an Uber, Emily?" Spencer offered.

Emily waved the suggestion off, "I've got one on the way, don't worry about it."

"Well, go out to the living room and I'll walk you down, okay?" he insisted and she did so with a grumbled "alright".

"We are so fucked," you mumbled, burying your head in your hands.

"It's highly improbable she'll remember anyways. I think we're in the clear," Spencer reassures, putting on his clothes again. "And if we aren't, then we'll handle what we need to because... because I'd like to be seeing you in this context... well, not just this - but romantically, if we can."

He leans down to kiss you before placing his final layer on.

"I'd like that, too, Spencer," you pull him down for another kiss. "Very much so. Now, get Emily out there and hurry back so we can cuddle."

"As you wish, angel," he says with a growing blush across his cheeks. "By the way - I'm really glad that you were my first."

"I'm honored to be your first, Spence," you respond, blowing him a kiss as he moves towards the door. He winks at you in reply before reluctantly moving down the hall, not losing sight of you until he absolutely had to.

It was true, you were honored to be Spencer's first even if it came about in an unexpected manner, but you were really hoping that maybe, just maybe, you could be his last...

requests are open!

[deesi-academia]

hey, I saw the anti swiftie post. If you're comfortable mag I know the reason why? I am kinda neutral about her but I feel like I should know stuff. I understand if you don't wanna answer this. Take care <3

(also I agree the swiftie fandom is kinda annoying lmao)

hello old old old anon ask I'm so sorry for replying so late but yeah hi 😭

I have tons of time on my hands for the next.... 30 minutes so let's get into it. I'll list a time line of my thought process to how I came to the 'ex-swiftie' conclusion:

1. She released a song called "renegade" which is good, but I found some lines problematic and unexpected, because I used to hold swift to a pedestal (guilty as charged).

The lines were 'is it insensitive of me to say get your shit together so I can love you' and 'is it really your anxiety stopping {something love something idk} or do you just not want to?' SOOOOO yeah these thew me off a little.

2. Her album Midnights came out which I ADORED, became my fav so quick. But then her multiple variations of vinyls etc threw me off again. This is when the Bad Feeling About Her started setting in.

3. Then she released the song 'You're losing me' which just BLARED red flags to me even though the song is actually good. It's the first time I think, where she hinted that she broke up with her bf (Joe Alwyn) because of his mental illness.

4. The ongoing carbon emissions controversy lol, and her buying carbon credits... like it just felt like a "hah I'm rich so I can do whatever wrongs i want and buy it out" moment. I really hated that, since I live in a pretty polluted city so it hit close to home.

5. She threatened to sue the teenager who published PUBLIC data about her flights. Bad.

6. The entire free palestine movement gained momentum and she stayed silent. She has her image as the American Princess and Activist Who Can Do No Wrong. Feminist Queen. Speaker For Those Who Can't Speak. Yada Yada.

I simply hated her billionaire self as she chose to stay silent (and still is). To call off the criticism she and her bestie Selena went to a live comedy show where the comedian donated his earnings for Gaza relief. LIKE. ??????? Basic billionaire below underground level of "donation"???? This had to be a joke. It was not.

I think this incident was the final straw for me where I realized I can't support her if she's such a human being. That's not what my morals stand for thank you very much.

7. I REALLY tried to separate the art from the artist but I couldn't. Not with my sane mind and strong ethics. AND THEN the entire Matty healy debacle. He's a misogynistic, racist, zionist, ugh of a person.

I don't think anyone can date someone with such drastic opposing values. So the Taylor-Matty era further tarnished her image in front of me.

8. Fast forward and she releases her new album The Tortured Poets Department. That's it this was my final straw. You can just Google and go on a reddit thread about how problematic this album is. I'll probably write a long ass essay on it. Anyway this is where I decided I'm done, back in April.

Since then I've just been trying to cope with losing my fav artist because of the person she turned out to me. And people say we shouldn't hold celebs to such high standards but bro. Taylor PROMOTES parasocial relationships. SHE held her image to that standard until recently. There's an entire documentary on Netflix about that - Miss Americana.

So yeah she let me down from the pedestal she put herself on. It's been 2+ months and I'm still coping, because I genuinely lost a very important part of my life - her music. It has got me through tough times and I have many good memories associated with those songs.

Anyway, here's to new artists to love ONLY for their music lol 🥂

[bloodhoundluke]

nervous ✧ luke hemmings [university au]

description: luke and y/n met on their first year of university. they connected with each other in a way no one else could understand. they are best friends but in secret, luke had caught feelings towards y/n within the first weeks of getting to know each other. little does he know, the feelings are mutual. today, y/n is going to a party alone and feels anxious about it. a drunken late night conversation leads to a late night gesture y/n didn't see coming.

pairing: best friend!reader x luke hemmings

warnings: social anxiety, alcohol consumption, cursing, angst, fluff. please let me know if there's anything else.

word count: 2,1k-ish.

a/:n: i haven't published anything in a while, so i am kinda nervous...🥺 i hope you like this! 💙 and ps. if you are struggling with social anxiety, or anxiety, know that you're not alone. i am always here to listen, and i am sure many others are too. <333 i think this could be a series, let's see what the future holds...

You had promised to attend a party tonight, and the time was moving unpleasantly fast. Irrational and chaotic thoughts filled your brain. The only one who could make this better was your best friend of two years. Luke. That's why you had invited him to your place earlier. Before Luke arrived, you had paced all around your apartment and tried to calm yourself down. Needless to say, you failed to do so.

"But Luke, I don't go to parties. Not usually. And especially not without you", you sighed and checked yourself on the full-body mirror in your bedroom. You turned to to Luke whose tall body was leant against the wall. The curly-haired best friend of yours had help you paint your apartment, and thanks to him, you managed to paint the bedroom walls dark blue. Thinking back now, a different shade of blue would have been better. Baby blue.

"I know, I know. I promise you'll get through it. If you feel horrible, text me. And do those breathing exercises you talked about? And Y/N, you can always leave if you don't want to be there", Luke shifted his gaze from his hands to your eyes.

"I know you're probably right. But in my head, it's a different story. What if they don't like me? What if I say all the wrong things? What if they end up hating me? What if I-", you were soon interrupted by Luke's hand which covered your mouth for a few seconds.

"Y/N, sit down". You did as you were told, and Luke sat down next to you on your bed. 

"Your feelings are valid. But I promise you'll be okay. Look at me, hmm?".

You looked at his baby blue eyes, which always made you smile. They were so pretty. And calming. Luke's whole presence was calming. You were gutted that he couldn't go with you. He cupped your hands in his and smiled that effortlessly beautiful smile you've grown to love.

"Come to the store if the party's terrible. I wish I could get someone to cover my shift, but I can't", he sighed. He had been working at the vinyl store for nearly a year now, mostly doing night shifts hence most of his lectures were in the morning. His thumbs gently caressed the palm of your hands.

"It's okay. I'll be okay, Lu", you affirmed. You didn't want him to worry any more than he already did. You felt bad for opening up about your anxiety to him, but you simply couldn't keep it in.

"I know you'll be. Just annoyed can't be there with you. Would be fun to get shit-faced with you", he commented and his lips curved into an inviting smile.

"I know right? Can't believe we haven't done that in months", you giggled. You loved how Luke could always make things so much better. Without him, you'd feel like something would be missing from your life. "Yeah", he agreed and let go of your hands. You felt your heart sank. His touch made you feel something you didn't want to feel towards your best friend.

You packed your clutch with the essentials and got changed into a little black dress and a plaid shirt. Like always, Luke helped you pick up the outfit. He was especially keen on the low strappy heels covered in glitter. You were convinced he was your personal stylist, as you were the same to him. You and Luke left your apartment and were soon met by the chilly autumnal air. Thank god it didn't rain. It wouldn't have been a surprise if it would have, since you were living in London. As you were about to part your ways, he wished you good luck with the most charming smile you had ever seen. You wished him good luck too, knowing he was irritated to go to work tonight.

For as long as you could remember, you had struggled with social anxiety. Sometimes, it made you feel so small. And at other times, it felt like people could see you too much. As if you were the only one people were concentrating at. You weren't much of a fan of attention. You just wanted to belong somewhere. And Luke surely made you feel like that. He was the most supportive friend you could ask for. You didn't understand what you had done to deserve him. Whatever it was, you were eternally grateful for it. You had told him things you hadn't told anyone else. You could trust him with your deepest and darkest secrets. And the best part was that you knew he could never judge you. 

You arrived at the party. The place was packed with people. That just aggravated your nerves. You felt like a nervous wreck. Holy shit. How am I going to get through this? What if I say some stupid shit and make a complete fool of myself? Damn, I gotta stop overthinking. You tried to shake off the gnarly thoughts and kept on walking directly to the kitchen. You put on a wide smile and tried to look for the person who invited you in the crowd. Her name was Kacey, you remembered.

You made some small talk with Kacey and her friend, Raye. They were giggly and polite, you liked them. They introduced you to their friends Farrah and Jackson, too. They were drunk, but you couldn't blame them since the exam season was at its peak. You were getting tipsy too. It was easing your nerves and you were pretty happy with that. The party had gone alright, you hadn't said anything even remotely embarrassing, you thought. Some people were playing beer pong, some dancing along to the music and others were deep in conversation. 

Luke had sent you texts and funny memes every chance he could get. He was asking how the party was, how many people were there, the usual stuff. He told how his shift was going boringly. He sent you a plethora of emojis too. Especially the white heart ones. Something about his supportive - even protective - behavior made you smile like an idiot. He was adorable, you knew that. You had always known that. But what you didn't know was how he was anxiously tapping his fingers on the table at work. How he was trying to make the time go faster by reorganizing the vinyls on the shelves. He was eagerly waiting for his shift to be over so he could come and surprise you at the party. 

It was 9:15pm, which meant Luke's shift had ended 15 minutes ago. You texted him about that and he didn't answer. Maybe he was driving to his apartment, you figured. Or maybe he was working over-time.

"Oh my god. Who's that beautiful man over there? He's like...literally so gorgeous", Farrah gushed. You turned around to see who she was talking about. In the sea of people, there he was. Luke. What on earth is going on?

"Y/N! Hi", Luke came up to you and smiled widely. You instantly went to hug him and he wrapped his arms around you. "What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at home?", you beamed and looked at the baby blues of his.

"I couldn't miss the party, could I?", he commented and you let go of him, secretly wanting to hug him a little while longer. But if you did, people would probably start talking. Over the course of being friends with him, many people thought you were dating. You didn't quite understand why since you acted like best friends normally would.

"And getting shit-faced with me", you added. He nodded eagerly and you two disappeared to do some shots. The night continued on by dancing on tables and having fun. Luke wanted to sing karaoke and wanted you to be his crowd, so there you were standing with a margarita in your hands. His song choice was Bruises by Lewis Capaldi. 

His voice was heavenly. Angelic. You had learned that when you two were singing karaoke during the first year of university. You had absolutely slaughtered the Panic! At the Disco song, but Luke on the other hand, had sounded like an angel. Luke had told you that he wanted to start his own band, but couldn't get anyone to join it. That made you gloomy. You knew how much he loved to sing. And play guitar and piano. You were starting to believe that there was nothing he couldn't really do (if you didn't count cooking which he was down-right terrible at). 

The clock hit midnight and you led Luke outside to get some air. You sat on a garden bench together and talked about the party. Both of you were enjoying yourselves, being more than just tipsy from the alcohol you had been consuming.

"Am so glad you came", you confessed and took a little sip of the water cup. You didn't want to be really hungover tomorrow. 

"Yeah, me too. We should do this more often. Party, I mean. I have so much fun with you", he giggled his famous drunken giggle. You nodded, making him know you agreed.

"Y/N?".

"Yeah?".

"Can I kiss you?".

What? Did you really hear that? That he asked that?

You choked down on your water and coughed for what it felt like forever. With an amused look on his face, Luke looked at you and bit his lower lip. It was like he knew what he was doing to you. "What do you mean? Kiss?", you asked him since you wanted to know what his intentions were. And if you really had heard his question right.

"Well, usually when people talk about kissing, they mean...putting their lips together?", the dark blonde elaborated with his left eyebrow lifted.

"Yes, I know the definition of kissing, ya idiot", you slapped his shoulder gently, a chuckle escaping your mouth. "Hey!", Luke chuckled along with you. After a brief moment of silence, he opened his mouth to ask you a question.

"So, what do you think?".

In your mind, he seemed to be serious. But you couldn't help yourself from analyzing his intentions behind the question. He was just drunk and affectionate, you convinced yourself.

"Honestly, I don't...know. Things could get awkward and who knows, maybe we wouldn't even want to see each other again after that. And if the kiss is shit, it'd be disappointing. And I am not that experienced of a kisser, so I can guarantee you you'd be disappointed. Big time. You've kissed like dozens of girls before me, so...yeah. I don't know", you rambled and tried to make sense of your thoughts. You wanted to kiss him, of course. It's not like you hadn't thought of it like thousand of times.

"Well, the easy question is, the determining one in my head...do you want kiss me?", he asked.

After a brief moment of silence, you nodded and fixated on your hands which rested on your lap. You didn't want to look at him, but couldn't fight the sudden urge to do so. So you did. Luke had moved closer to you. And his drink was no longer in his hands. Instead, it was laying on the ground.

"In that case, no more excuses. Let me kiss you Y/N? I promise it won't be shit. It's you", he convinced with his head tilted to the side.

"Uh...okay?", you nervously answered him, not knowing if the question was directed at yourself or him. Or both.

He cupped your face with his ring adorned hands and you couldn't help but giggle. Sure, he had touched you before. But not like this. He lifted your head and your eyes met his.

And it felt like in seconds, his lips were on yours. It felt gentle, insecure. Still, it made butterflies fly in your stomach. You answered his kiss and closed your eyes to enjoy the heartfelt moment. And just as quickly as he had put your lips on yours, he pulled away from you with a beaming smile on his face. You swore he had never looked as handsome. Calling him a Greek statue would be a great understatement.

"Was it okay? I am sorry if things are weird now", he licked his lips slightly and scratched the back of his neck. 

"It was more than okay, Luke. I wanted it. Don't worry. You were great", you assured him. You couldn't believe he was the one having doubts of himself. But that was one of the things you liked about Luke. He was down to earth, but sometimes you wished he had a lot more self-confidence.  

"Good, 'cause I felt so fuckin' nervous to do that", he confessed and you giggled as a response. He was nervous? You couldn't believe your ears. And just as you turned away from looking at him, he shot another question at you.

"Wanna do it again?".

© 2023 bloodhoundluke.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Our apartment is through a management company. It's usually fine. The last several months, we've had issues with them 1) actually sending out maintenance, and 2) not fixing our fucking floor.

Our floor was put in during the Fall of 2022 after the fucking flood of June 2022. For the entire summer, we walked around on the original concrete floor of our renovated 100-year-old basement apartment.

Management company swore the problem was that the property owner was dragging his feet.

I'd met the property owner several times as he'd come to inspect the damage and understand what he needed to do as owner, since it would be his insurance covering things. I thought he was an asshole.

The new floor went in. We moved home. A few weeks later, I noticed a space between the boards in the kitchen. I debated calling the management company, then went, "I'm in no fucking mood" and threw a rug over it.

I'm not a professional, but I know bits and pieces of home shit. I figured, with the weather cooling, the vinyl boards were shifting a bit, and it'd either stay the same or just slip back together at some point.

And then the rest of the floor started buckling.

I put a maintenance request in. A guy came out, took one look at the floor, and went, "Oh, yeah, I know what's happening." He took photos. He pushed back together what boards he could, and he left.

Nothing for about a week, then a call. The owner wants to come out and look. I sighed and agreed. He came out and brought along his wife, the maintenance guy who'd come before, and our property management contact.

He was NOT PLEASED. His wife's job that day, very obviously to me, was to get my real impression of the management company while the owner asked some questions about why it was taking a week to even update me on next steps?

I told the wife, "We've never had a real problem with maintenance. Stuff's always gotten fixed."

"Have you needed it often?" she asked.

"Nope," I said because it was true.

When the whole apartment was getting torn up after the flood, the demo guy was 1) great and 2) informed me that all the finishes in the apartment were commonly used but also the high-end version. Yeah, they were all particle board and vinyl and what have you. But they were the top-notch versions of everything. I remembered thinking, "Wow, the dude who renovated this place gave a real shit."

We have not heard word one from anyone at the management company about our floor since around October. We have heard from the owner and his wife on a few occasions, calling to see if the next step of the plans had happened. Which is how I found out there were plans. Our contact at the management company (with 16 years experience, something she mentioned when she sent out her intro email at her hiring) had not given me any information.

A couple of weeks ago, our kitchen turned into a tiny swamp. There was water coming up through the fucked up floorboards. A pipe had frozen upstairs a couple of days before. There were four inches of glaze ice over everything.

We called the management company. We got an email back: "We are confirming with the owner how he wants to proceed."

I started cursing the owner's name up and down.

And then he showed up that night. In the ice and the snow. With it pouring sleet (literally pouring sleet). I thought he was being a control freak.

He looked at things, said, "I'll have to turn the water off." And then went upstairs to check on things there. He came back a few minutes later, needing to try and find the shut off. We couldn't locate it down here, either. He shut it off at the street, then took Sean out and showed him how to use the tool to turn it on and off.

"It's a very slow leak," he told us. "If you don't mind mopping up water when it comes up, you can turn the water on for short periods of time."

Two days with no water. The ice continued not to melt. I fell on the dog walk and slid into the side of a car (nothing serious). The owner showed up again when the roads were still barely passable. He had the leak fixed and the water back in by the end of the day. He apologized for the delay. He left the wall open so things could dry, and came back the next day to check things again.

He started to grow on me. He knows his shit. He works quietly. He tries to be as unobtrusive as possible. I sent my regards to his wife, for which he thanked me.

During these few days, I'm getting sporadic emails from the management company basically rehashing everything that had happened that day. Even though I'd heard him call them and explain things to them within half an hour of showing up each day.

So, they were in the loop.

And, yes, so were we.

But there's a way to do these things.

And acting like it's all brand new information to you when the email gets to me at six, after he's left again after apologizing for getting some mud on the floor because he's been in and out not only fixing the leak but also beating the shit out of the four inches of glaze ice with a shovel so he can clear the sidewalk for us. Which is one of those technical requirements that I don't expect of any owner or management company when it's below freezing multiple days in a row in a city where that does not happen regularly. Like, the official city policy during the weather was "please stay the fuck inside."

The contractors came to put the wall back together. The owner showed up to properly introduce them, then left them to it. They did good work as far as I could tell.

I've heard nothing from the management company for several days, and I continue to be very unimpressed by their current actions. Which is just additional unimpressed feelings since October when I got a call from the wife saying, "Did the contractor come out to measure?"

"Measure?"

"For the replacement floor."

"No, Ma'am," I said, not knowing until this phone call that a contractor had even been signed. "Last I heard anything was when the inspector came out."

"Did the company contact you about them?"

"Yes, but then the inspector didn't show the day he was supposed to, and we didn't hear why. He did show up a couple of days later."

The kind of pause you only get from a woman who knows how to use her powers for politeness, smoothing ruffled feathers, and fucking murdering someone. "I see. Okay. Thank you."

"I've worked on a lot of floors," the contractor told me yesterday as he wiped down all the places drywall dust and paste had gotten (everywhere; including the bottom of Bean's foot I discovered this morning). "You're definitely gonna need new floor where the leak was."

"Oh, yeah," I said, with a wave. "We need the whole thing replaced, actually. It's in work."

"Yeah, I noticed it was bubbling," the contractor says. "Not surprising. This is the cheapest vinyl floor you can get."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I've worked with the owner for years. I'm surprised he approved this."

About a week after the wife last called me, we got a letter in the mail from the owner. It read, in part:

...please copy us in all emails to the management company. We want to be fully aware when issues arise so they can be handled as quickly as possible...

Given all current evidence, I am beginning to suspect the problem was NOT the owner but the management company. As I have never worked in property management, I don't know who decides things like which flooring. However, having watched the owner over this last couple of weeks, I suspect the management company picked the flooring and the contractor to do it and the "dragging on" issue was the owner pushing for better quality.

I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that the owner was here today to paint the repaired wall and a strip of ceiling that has gone unfixed by the management company since before we told them the floor news.

I have been beyond happy with the speed of things with the owner in charge of repairs, and I've come to appreciate his dedication to keeping our place in good kit. He is proud of this place and wants it to show. He wants high-quality and good craftsmanship.

He also ended up not painting because the ceiling repair doesn't have the right texture when the lights are off. He is coming back tomorrow morning with the contractor so it gets done to his liking. "It can be difficult to match the texture of sheet rock," he told me. Having watched him work these past couple of weeks, I know he wants it done to a high standard that I appreciate as the tenant.

On the other hand. What an asshole.

[homestuck-archive]

HOMESTUCK NEWS UPDATE!

"Hi, James here. Hope you had a good holiday! New year, new me! New you! Whatever, man! We got the usual patreon updates for you. Wahoo! Did you know that's a kind of fish? I watch a lot of fishing videos. If everything goes right and nothing goes wrong we should have something very exciting very soon: a new website! What does this mean for you? Stick around and find out!

Thanks for coming to our AMA, I hope we were able to answer some questions. I especially liked the one where Haven said he was going to fill Dirk full of Milk and slap him against a wall. Great job team. In other community news, the folks over at SAHcon are having their New Year's showcase around 5 pm PST today. Wow! I'm excited to see what the community is cooking.

We got another great comic update coming mid month, and in the next few we're letting some of the new writers shine. I'm excited for you to read them!

Speaking of updates on things… some of you sleuths may have noticed some changes. I'd like to go into a little more detail about them to the extent that I am able. I also wanted to do this in an official newspost, and not on socials etc, so that there is no question about it.

The contract with VIZ media has been restructured. What does this mean? Well, let's start a little further back. We have gotten a lot of questions about Andrew's involvement with HS:BC and Homestuck as a whole. I mentioned before that Andrew approached me to finish HS:BC. As many of you know a few years ago Andrew stepped back from having a creative role. This has allowed him to focus on oversight, and some behind-the-scenes stuff. A large part of that was regaining a sort of legal control of the brand as a whole.

So who "Owns Homestuck?" Well Andrew still does. Who has the publishing rights? We're working on that! The HICU has a license to do what we want with the property, which is what has allowed us to do some of the more creative things we are trying to do. Is the Website going to be fixed? They're working on that! I have very little to do with that, personally, but once there is something solid to announce there and the concerned parties are comfortable with it I'll let you know. What does this mean for the commentaries? Behind the scenes, some ideas about how to handle the issues with the way Homestuck is going to be published are being discussed. Some of these ideas may include a new way to release the future book commentary in absence of the books themselves. Wow!

With regards to VIZ, as some of you have correctly surmised this is good news for us. It has allowed things like HS:BC and HICU licensing etc to happen, as well as the SAHcon license. Hopefully, this can also include some additional fan-friendly licenses Andrew is considering. This all will take time to fully unfold so more details will be forthcoming about what this means for Homestuck as a whole. All in all, I think we are in for an exciting year.

Man what else is goin on? Some good news on the Vinyl is that I talked to the printer and with such an overwhelming response from you guys, instead of a simple Best Of EP, we actually want to try and do a print of Vol. 1-4. This makes all my very scientific and organized data gathering completely useless. I am humbled by something new and mundane every day. Anyway, this represents a completely different beast logistically, but as a fan of those tracks I am very very excited about that. I will Literally buy a Record Player for this. "James, you don't own a record player?" No! What do I look like, an old man? Please don't answer that. (Yes James, you do. -Homestuck Archive, 2024.)

This month (January 2024) we are also going to start seeing some of the bonus content go public. I ran a poll for the Patrons, and the general consensus is that after 2 months, they're ok with the bonus content going public. This includes Bonus strips, the Illustrations, and the commentary. They're really fun to do, so I hope you guys are into it. If you want to see these as soon as they go up, they are available to subscribers. Thank you for that, btw. It means the world to be able to pay some of my team's bills. Look at me, getting all sappy on New Year's Day. Maybe it really is a new year and a new me..."

SUMMARY -

New HS:BC Website in the works, with some new features.

Update mid-month as usual. Some of the newer Team Writers.

VIZ deal has been "restructured." (that's good for us)

Andrew still "Owns Homestuck."

Working on a solution to homestuck dot com debacle.

There are plans for commentary.

Homestuck Vinyl will be Vol. 1-4, pending some light Logistical Upkeep.

Patreon Bonuses from November will be going public this month.

[masterjedilenawrites]

Old Friends

Boss & Cody | 1.5k words

Content: silliness, cursing, brief sad/dark moment

Inspiration (from @rosemarynightmares): I haven't even consumed any Delta Squad material, but solely the writing on this blog made me love them all and...I think Boss and Cody would get along.

Boss slid into the booth, the familiar squeak of the red vinyl seats bringing a small smile to his face. It had been a while since the last visit to this diner, but the place forever stayed the same. He liked that. A constant among the variables of the galaxy.

Usually he was the one running late, but today it was Cody. Only just a little. The battalion commander slipped into the opposite side of the booth an appalling five minutes after their set time.

"Unacceptable," Boss shook his head, ahead of any potential apologies. He could never resist an opportunity to rag on the otherwise disciplined man. "I'll have to write you up for this."

"Feel free to add that illegally parked speeder outside to your report, too," Cody threw back at him, casting a knowing look over the menu.

"It's not blocking any exits," Boss said defensively. "Besides, not my fault they decided to tear up half the parking lot. What are they working on anyway?"

Cody shrugged, scanning the menu despite probably having memorized it by this point. The two of them had been coming to this diner for years, ever since their first deployment. It wasn't frequent, every few months or so, just to catch up and commiserate. But it was enough to have an established routine.

"Maybe I'll try one of the salads this time," Cody said predictably, as he always did. Boss knew he'd pretend to seriously consider the thought, but would ultimately tell the waitress he wanted the double-patty bourbon burger, with extra cheese.

"But seriously, are they just fixing the parking lot or are they building something?" Boss was still stuck on the unexpected construction job outside.

Cody glanced up for a moment, knowing Boss needed time to wrap his head around big changes. "From what I hear, apartments."

"Apartments?"

Cody nodded and returned his gaze to the menu. "100 floors, about 2000 tenants, mid-range pricing. They're laying the foundation next week."

Boss frowned at the news. He didn't like the sound of that at all.

"Now why would they go and do a thing like that? This is the flattest part of the planet. Barely any high-rises around. And it's quiet. 2000 tenants is not quiet."

Cody stifled a laugh. Boss was turning more into a crotchety old man by the day.

"Welcome back, boys," the waitress approached with her customary greeting. She was a middle-aged pink Twi'lek, kind but not overly friendly. She took their orders, kept their sodas refilled, and would only make one comment about being "safe out there" when they left. Just how they both liked it. Civvies were either prying into their business as soldiers, or ignoring them all together. This little diner on the outskirts of town provided the perfect sanctuary between the two.

"Glad to be back, ma'am," Cody nodded.

"The usual again, Commander?"

"Yep. Doubly-patty bourbon burger. Extra cheese. Side of fries."

Cody looked proud of himself as he recited each part of his order. This was his "cheat" meal, the one time he allowed himself such greasy, fatty food.

"And for you, Sarge?"

Boss was still frowning on his side of the table, but didn't skip a beat in getting his order in.

"Fish 'n' chips with a side of slaw."

He, too, got the same thing each time.

"And two diet cokes," the waitress filled in for them as her pencil scratched against the notepad. Why she bothered writing it down was always a mystery. Apparently they all were just going through the motions. She took the menus and scurried away, leaving the two soldiers in a brief but comfortable silence.

"Where you heading next?" Cody was the first to break the silence, always interested in what little details Boss was allowed to share about his squad's more covert operations.

"Devaron. SAR. Some sort of animal ravaged the temple," Boss said gravely.

Cody nodded. He'd heard something about that. "Terrible business," he muttered.

"Yeah. Likely no survivors. Do you remember what unit was stationed there?"

"One of the ARF troops, I believe," said Cody, just as the waitress returned with their sodas. Cody chewed on the straw while he tried to remember more. "Trauma? Commander Trauma."

Boss slurped his own drink and said no more on the subject. They'd been trained not to dwell on that part of the war, so when it did come up, there wasn't much they knew how to do to process the losses.

"The squad's all good?" Cody changed the topic. It did the trick.

Boss launched into a whole tirade about the most recent shenanigans he'd been dealing with from his team. Apparently it'd all started with some maintenance projects from Fixer on a mission the week before, and things quickly fell apart from there.

"So this fool's got half the ship in pieces, no one can find anything they're looking for, we're tripping over wires and shit. The 'fresher's out of commission so we're having to use the village's community center just to take a dump. Of course we got Scorch whining like a baby left and right. And don't even get me started on Sev...."

Boss trailed off as their food was delivered, giving him a chance to calm down as he focused on shaking out some tartar sauce for his fish.

"Wait, Sev?" Cody was chuckling throughout the whole story. He always got a kick out of a good Delta Squad tale. As well as the increase in colorful language from Boss as he got more worked up. "I thought Scorch was your troublemaker?"

"Oh no. Scorch does all the dumb shit, Sev convinces him to do it. That's the difference between a clown and a comedian for you."

Cody snorted as he leaned in for a bite of his burger. "So what happened?"

"He got Scorch to make some comment to the village elders about one of their superstitions, so the dumbass ends up getting pulled into the river and half the village is around him trying to purge him of his sins or some shit. And Sev's just feeding into it. Oh yeah, he was born on a full moon, Father Pak," Boss slipped into an imitation of the gruff sniper's voice. "He says weird things in his sleep all the time. Shit like that. As if I don't have the senator calling me every ten minutes for updates on the bomb situation, which I can't answer because Fixer won't fix the kriffing ship!"

Cody was silently laughing, his stomach almost hurting from the spasms he was trying so hard to control. He shook his head as his friend was finally able to take a breath and a bite of food.

"But let me guess," Boss glowered up at Cody's shaking. "Your boys are doing just fine aren't they? Perfect little angel soldiers, always do as they're told. Making their mommy so proud."

"You're just jealous I'm the better boss," Cody couldn't help a self-satisfied smirk.

Boss flicked a strand of cabbage at him.

"Speaking of dysfunctional units... You oughta meet Sergeant Hunter."

"Yeah? And what unit's that?" Boss didn't actually sound that interested. He was busy trying to wipe a spot of fish batter grease that had somehow made it on his blacks.

"Clone Force 99. Experimental unit. I've been sending them out on some random missions, getting their feet wet. They're wicked good, mind you, but they do have some growing up to do."

Boss continued to wipe at his lap but then looked up once the silence settled in, finding Cody giving him a meaningful look.

"I'm not the GAR's super nanny, you know" he bemoaned.

"Super nanny?"

"A dumb show the boys watch," he quickly brushed it off, not wanting to admit he was the one who was caught up on every episode. "Point is, you can't keep throwing every unruly shiny you come across my way. I thought you were the better boss here, anyway."

"And yet, it's still your name for a reason," Cody pointed out, downing the last of his soda. "You took all of Scorch's pep and fire and turned him into the best demolitions expert in the Republic."

"It'd sound more impressive if he hadn't burnt his kriffing eyebrows off," Boss grumbled under his breath.

"Fixer? A hopeless cause, now he's your second-in-command. And Sev? Well... still not sure what his deal is, but sounds like he's working out."

Boss only grunted.

"I'm only asking you to talk to the Sergeant about his team, that's all. You don't have to adopt them."

"Fine," Boss relented, throwing in his napkin on the table as an added show. "Just invite him to the next luncheon, then."

Cody's comms link started going off. The two men exchanged an understanding look. "Luncheon" was officially over.

"I think I will," Cody smirked, quickly scooping up his helmet and starting to shimmy out of the booth.

Boss gave him a two-finger salute as he fished out some credits to pay for his meal.

"Good luck with the SAR, Sergeant."

"Until next time, Commander."

~ ~ ~

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[shittypunkblog]

The haters theorizing that All Time Low are breaking up is sending me into giggles every time I see it. They're not breaking up. This is a slightly genius (and I use that term LIGHTLY) marketing ploy. It does look like a breakup post to those unknown. It's going to get not just fans talking but people who want to see their downfall. I have theories that I'll get to, but when they do announce something they're going to get a lot of views and conversations from other people than just fans. In this way, all press is good press. Logically thinking it's definitely NOT a breakup. Their latest reels saying how much they miss tour, plus announcing a Columbian show following the Brazilian shows. Not to mention Alex saying in the spotify wrapped shoutout "see you next year." You also don't tease a breakup and All Time Low Forever has been a thing since Ryman in May. This band doesn't have the brainpower to allude to something seven months in advance.

For what I think they're announcing, I've seen a lot of theories. Mainly a tour which I think is probably the most likely and branding it as All Time Low Forever Tour. Maybe their own eras tour but with each member hating an album I'm not sure that's happening. Would be happy to eat my words tho! I'm personally hoping it's a tour paired with something along the lines of Don't Panic: It's longer now but Tell Me I'm Alive edition. Alex has stated multiple times that there are more songs to TMIA. I would love if it's just a deluxe or part two album featuring the unreleased songs and variations like Calm Down. Didn't they have a poll about what songs we'd like to hear the acoustic versions of? They also played a few acoustic versions on tour so that theory holds a lot of water. I've also seen theories of it being a Greatest Hits album. With the value of All Time Low Forever this could have some weight but I think they should've done that this year for the band's 20th anniversary, but maybe it's delayed idk. Maybe they saw the success of Taylor Swift's re-recordings and thought to give it a go? Another theory is STD 3 but I don't think when Wembley livestream is still available and now the vinyl that that's what this is about. They've already kinda done that. From what I do know about this band I can safely assume it's going to cost me a lot of money and it's lucky I just started a new job.

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 9

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

She doesn't live in one of the best areas of New York, but it's not the worst one I've been in either. Although this building... It looks like it might fall down at any point.

The cracking sound of the door draws my attention back to Y/n, finding her fighting to open the door. Her left hand twists the key, while the right one keeps pulling from the door until it finally opens. That sudden move almost made her fall to her back -and I say almost because I hold her by her arm before she's able to stumble enough to fall.

When she's aware of my hold, she hawks and moves her arm away cautiously.

—You do this every time you go in? —I look at her surprised— Last week I thought you were just so mad and frustrated you fought with the first thing you found.

—It'd be easier if we could fix it. But most of us earn just enough to survive every month.

I understand what she is trying to say. I guess that, if they're living here, it is because they can't really afford a lot more than enough to survive. But it still doesn't take away the fact that living like this is a headache. What if one day that trick doesn't work out and she's just stuck outside?

Sooner or later, they'll have to repair that door. Either it'll be by choice or they'll be forced to do it.

—Lift or stairs?

—It depends —I put my hands in the pockets of my cargo pants.

—I live on the fourth floor.

After driving for more than four hours, only stopping to get some gast? Yeah... no.

With no need to say a word, I lift my hand and point to the closed metallic lift. And if the door problem was something to worry about, the elevator only makes me concerned for her safety and genuinely makes me ask myself if she actually dares to go up and down on this thing. Being able to see the wires in charge to move this box up and down the building, the flickering lights giving the best horror movie environment and the buttons that Y/n almost had to punch to get this thing to move? She shouldn't be living in these conditions.

—Welcome to my humble home —she informs me after opening her door.

The big contrast is mind-blowing.

Opposed to the unkempt building, her house is tidy and cozy. And that floral scent that welcomes me as soon as I step inside only makes it even better. Everything just sticks together. There's a lot of white, gray and pastel colors -which is something I'd have never related to her if I had had the chance to guess.

Somewhere across the room, I see a similar turntable I have at home, and it seems like she has a big collection by the big amount of vinyls displayed on the small shelf next to it.

—Oh —I point to the old turntable in the living room corner—, I have the same model.

Pathetic way to try to start a conversation with her right now. I'll give myself that.

—It was my grandma's —she shrugs—. I also have a collection of all the vinyls she bought —she points to that same shelving, that's as tall as the furniture where the turntable is lying on.

Pressing my lips together, and aware of the grimace expression I've made, I simply nod and keep looking around, trying to find something to talk about. Or more like trying to find something that could give me a hint about who she actually is.

—Do you want something to drink?

—I'm fine.

I walk around, looking at all the details and seeing some pictures displayed on the furniture near the entrance door. A more innocent and smiley Y/n appears in one of the pictures, next to an old woman.

—So, are you going to rate my house?

And there she goes. Peace lasted way too long.

—Will you still play the enigmatic and interesting role? —I turn to her— You were about to set some rules.

—About that...

It doesn't take me long to guess she didn't think about anything, and probably she was sure she'd be able to come up with something while I was here.

—You didn't think of anything —I finish and think of the most important rule—. Then let me start: let's stop bitching at each other. Let's move on from that.

Whatever happened between us, needs to stop. We're both grown ups to still be bickering and fighting because of a misunderstanding three weeks ago.

Time to let that shit go if we're doing this.

—Two: Limits —she continues—. I want to set the pace of whatever this will be.

Which makes total sense.

—Of course —I let my body fall on the couch—. Three: Communication. If you don't feel comfortable with something, or you think you aren't ready, I need you to tell me. I will stop and I will mold to you. Like... If you don't feel like talking with a dude, or do something in bed with me, it's fine. We are here for that, so no need to rush it.

She crosses her arms on her chest, keeping her eyes on me as I sit comfortably on her sofa, as if I had been here more times than I could count them.

—Four: We can't tell anyone —she points a finger at me, as if she were warning me—. Let's keep it between us and as low key as possible.

—They'll think it's weird we get on well out of nowhere.

—As if they'll care that much about it. I'm sure they have more things to think about rather than you and me, and our childish fights —she interrupts me—. Doubt they'll notice.

I tilt my head, accepting her proposal.

—Five: No jealousy.

She cackles at my idea, which makes me frown.

She's laughing now, but at some point it'll happen -and probably it'll be from her side. It's good to set some things straight before we get into business.

—Okay, fine. I'll try not to fall for you. And I'll try not to fight every girl that drools for you. Alright?

Rolling my eyes, I decide it's a good idea to write all of this down. So as I try to remember everything we settled for now, I typed them on the phone.

—We need to write down all of this —I justifies myself—. I'll send you a screenshot when we're done. Your number, by the way? —I look up to her, and huffing, she finally gives me her phone number—. Six: You can't go out with the same dude more than once.

She huffs again, and I'm seeing every intention to protest against it. But I stop her before she's able to.

—You need to hang out with different guys to be able to get all the skills you need.

—Or more like you won't be able to enjoy your part of the deal if I fall for someone.

Oh... she really thinks I haven't thought about that.

—Let me get there —I type the rule on my phone before I say it out loud, sitting carelessly and resting my back on the backrest—. Seven: You can't fuck anyone. At least not until I do it first.

That sassy smile slowly vanishes away when I speak up about my idea.

What did she expect? Me getting her ready to be with a random guy, just for them to get a reward of all my hard work? That's not fair.

—You're kidding, right?

I shake my head, playing with my fingers on my lap as I let my phone rest on my thigh.

—It's a transaction, that's what the deal is about —I continue—. This is your part of it.

—And what if I like someone and I want him to be the first time?

—That's exactly why the sixth rule exists —I smirk—. I want to be the owner of all your first times, Y/n. I'll be working for it, and build you up to be ready for it.

And being the first one to taste her and feel her, after the big challenge she's been, is the best reward I could think of right now.

Moving my phone to the side of the couch, I reach for her hand, guiding her to move closer to me so she ends up standing in between my thighs. Both of my hands bring her closer by pushing her from the backside of her thighs, something that cuts her breathing momentarily as I try to place her on top of me, straddling my lap. My hands move up, until they both cup her hips over her gym pants.

—If I can't fuck with other guys —she whispers—, you can't fuck other girls.

—You want exclusiveness?

—No, fairness —she corrects me—. This is our deal, remember?

And I think it's a fair rule.

—Rule number eight: My release is yours —I rub my lips against hers.

—And my first times are yours —she finishes under her breath.

I move my hands over her body, delighting myself with being allowed to touch her this way after thinking about it for so long, deprived and forced to look at her from the distance.

I trace her jaw with my fingertips, moving up to her face to place one of her locks behind her ear. A route that my lips follow, from her lips, to her jaw, until they reach her earlobe. I can feel her fast paced heartbeat against my mouth as I travel over her skin, and I'm convinced she likes it when her mouth lets out a heavy breath as soon as my teeth get in contact with the spongy part of her earlobe.

Still holding her with my left hand on her neck, I reach the phone and manage -hardly- to type the rest of the rules down on the notes. I can see her eagerness and impatience whenever my eyes go up to her. And I know she's totally done when both of her hands rest on both sides of my head, as she tries to bend closer to my neck to be the one teasing me. But I move faster. I throw my phone somewhere on the couch, and cup her face with both of my hands again just to redirect her lips to mine before she can even think of being in contact with my neck.

Her lips are a bit clumsy at first, finding it difficult to follow my moves. But damn, don't they feel soft and addictive. Slowly, she catches the pace and encourages herself to directly touch me, making it hard for me not to groan when her cold fingers lie directly on the exposed skin of my neck.

She opens her mouth a bit wider, letting my tongue dig in her cave. That first touch with her tongue, mixed with the taste of her spit is making my brain go places it shouldn't go to right now. She gasps when I twirl my tongue around hers, and I can't help but grin at that reaction.

It really is making it difficult for me to hold back everything I want to do right now.

—Is this your first kiss? —I ask, breaking up the kiss.

She doesn't answer straight away, instead... I kind of feel bad for making that question when she frowns, and looks at me concerned.

—Was it that bad?

I move my thumb on her cheek. It was obvious she's inexperienced, but not in a bad way. If I hadn't broken up the kiss, I'm sure I'd be hard like a rock in my pants.

—Not at all, and that's dangerous.

Stopping myself before it's too late, I lift her up and let her rest back on the couch. She's confused, probably expecting more from this first time than just a kiss.

—You're leaving? That's not fair, you're such a teas...

—I'm leaving —I start walking to the door—. Now we're in a tie.

Of course mentioning what happened in the studio is way better than saying I'm so turned on, I'd probably would be ready to fuck her just with a kiss.

She doesn't need to know that.

—Anyway, this was an introduction of how it'll go between us from now on —I make a small pause—, cocktease.

—Stop calling me that —she warns me.

Oh, if she only knew she's only encouraging me to use that as her nickname from now on. The more she hates it, the more I'll use it.

—Okay —I sigh—, cocktease.

I rush to close the door of the apartment as soon as I see her taking her shoe off and see it fly across the room. Although I'm fast enough so I just hear it collide against the door.

Smirking again, I take my phone out and see her contact. On her name, where she wrote "Y/n", I edit it just to write "Cocktease".

It'd have been better if she had just ignored it.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Tidbits Tuesdays

This is just stuff that I'm proud of but I'll probably never finish or post. For this particular one it's Love and Deepspace

Is it just my OC Kit and Sylus?

.... maybe.

No promises on context, but you're free to badger me in my inbox.

This will most likely become a regular occurrence that I do.

Kit collapses after a mission, and Sylus, her boss, is the one who's called to pick her up. Set maybe a few months after she's joined his team.

-

He sighed, standing up from her cot and holding out a cup. A familiar seawater smell accosted her nose. “Drink this before I do.”

Reluctantly, she did so. It was thick and slimy as it slid down her throat, making her gag and her eyes water.

Almost instantly, the herbal remedy did its trick, and she felt her body’s functions fully return to her.

“Where am I?” She asked, wiping her mouth.

The sawbones stepped forward, clearing his throat. “My lab. You collapsed here. I called Sylus.”

Kit’s eyes widened, her heart racing instantly. She looked around the room, and there he was, leaning in a far corner.

His expression was dark and inscrutable.

Something about it made her tremble, then shake violently. Sylus walked forward and reached his hand out.

She flinched, closing her eyes and covering her face. “I'm sorry,” she choked out. “I did the mission, I didn't even fuck it up this time, please don't-”

There was a moment of pause, and then a long sigh. His hand settled gently on top of her head. “I'm not going to hit you. I know you did the job well. However, when we get back, you will disclose everything to me.”

She nodded dumbly, looking down at the scratchy sheets. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she blinked them away in frustration.

His hand twitched. “Are you-”

“You've temporarily gone blind, boss,” she snapped.

He gave a low chuckle. “I suppose I have. Thank your friend before he leaves.”

- (cut from the same WIP, a little later) -

Two hours, a crow, and a cup of coffee later, Kit was curled up on Sylus's sofa.

It felt weird to be like this in her boss’s room, but he'd bullied her into it.

Every time she thought about protesting, his eye glinted, and the words died in her mouth.

She tapped her fingers on the outside of the cup, enjoying the fragrance and warmth.

There was still a sense of agitation under her skin, her instincts telling her she wasn't safe. The paranoia would pass in a few days, however.

It always did.

Sylus leaned against the bookshelf next to the fireplace, a beautifully cut crystal rocks glass in hand. It had barely a finger of whiskey in it.

Classical music played in the background softly, and Kit sighed. “At least let me change the music.”

He glanced at her. “Is it not to your liking?” The corner of his mouth quirked up, as if he were amused. “Far be it for me to disatisfy a guest.”

Kit scowled at him. “This is your depression vinyl. You listen to it when you're feeling dark and moody. And while I get why, sort of, it doesn't mean you should continue with it.”

He stood up fully, stalking over to her.

She swallowed hard as he placed the glass on the side table nearby, moving to stand in front of her.

Sylus leaned forward, palms on either side of her, caging her against the back of the couch. “And why exactly would I be feeling that way?”

Kit wanted to look away, but found that to be a herculean effort. “Um,” she said, swiping her tongue across her bottom lip nervously. His eyes followed the movement. “Because I didn't tell you about my condition?”

He smiled. It wasn't nice. “Go on.”

“And…” a flush crawled up her neck, warming her to her bones. “I didn't tell you I needed to resupply?”

“So close, kitten,” he purred. Whether it was accidental that he came close to her full name or not, she didn't know, but the nickname still made her jerk, startled.

Sylus grabbed her chin, keeping her attention on him. “You put yourself in danger by not telling me. If it had been anyone else but the doctor, or you hadn't made it in time before you collapsed, that would mean you were completely vulnerable. In the heart of the N109 Zone. My reach extends far, sweetie. It doesn't cover everywhere. Especially when my assassin is on an assignment that Mephisto can't see.”

She wilted, finally glancing away. The shame that curled in her gut made the flush worse, as if she were an errant child being scolded by a parent. “It won't happen again, sir.”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, and she looked back, wide-eyed. “What did I do wrong this time?” She whined. “I'm just agreeing with you and apologizing!”

He blinked. This new, petulant side to his assassin warmed him slightly, making him want to draw it out more.

He smirked, tapping her bottom lip with his thumb. “The only time anyone ever calls me sir is if they don't know me, or they're underneath me. Understood, sweetie?”

She flushed brilliantly, and he jerked his thumb away just before her teeth snapped around it. Kit scowled up at him. “Understood, boss,” she grumbled.

Sylus chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I think that's enough scolding for today. Now.” He sat down besides her, holding out his hand. A blanket from the bed flew to him, and he plopped it over her lap. She looked bewildered, frozen in place like a cat wearing clothes. Sylus hid a smile. “Tell me about your condition. Everything. Leave nothing out.”

Kit went from feisty to miserable in an instant. If she'd had ears, they would have been pinned back. “Do I have to?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to keep working for me?”

She sighed. “....fine. But you're not going to believe me.”

Sylus leaned towards her. “Try me.”

[gor3sigil]

I recently stopped using Spotify. The one thing that prevented me to do so was that I wasn't able to support artists without it because albums, even digital, tend to be a bit expensive and I'm not in a position where I can currently afford it + the slow death of physical discs makes it next to impossible to get a second hand copy of RECENT releases for a better price. Especially indie ones because most of the time they release like 100 to 500 copies of cassettes/CDs/Vinyls and that's it.

So back to 🏴‍☠️. I'll try to buy a couple of my fav releases a month to support artists. But Spotify, I can't anymore. Not only does it really NOT support artists, but the CEO is pro Palestinian g3n0cide, and just to be honest, I HATE subscription/streaming shit. It killed so much of the joy of curating a collection, it also became really not so affordable as it was, you don't own anything anymore, everything is slowly becoming subscription based and that is not something that I want to partake on. I'm sorry, but I'd rather steal than contribute to a system that robs both creators AND consummers with a false "but it's cheaper for THIS MUCH content !" crap.

And if we want to have a sliver of a chance to ever own the things we pay for, I encourage everyone to do the same.