#and about him having a phd. like that's my little guy. what happened

[lesamis]

it is i think not one of my best but at least one of my funniest qualities that i've historically held myself together surprisingly ok in some high-stress situations, but give me a fun and relaxed night out and i'll have a polite but VERY obvious breakdown in the arms of a friendly man i've known for 2 hours saying shit like "yeah intellectually i know they love me but like it's another thing to actually feel it right" and he's like cheers to that. and then we're mutually like king what was your name again.

[uranometrias]

nobody ever loved me like you do, spencer reid

just a little prompt i couldn't get out of my head. this is majority fluff, it got kind of heavy towards the end, but no smut because i'm a coward, reader is a university student, there's an age gap between reader + spencer, unspecified, but reader is over 22. based off of 'pov' by ariana grande.

this absolutely got long as shit, i don't know how to be normal. (5.6k wrds)

"what's on your mind?" you hadn't realized you'd gone quiet until you feel the dip of the couch. it takes a moment to snap out of the little moment you've dug yourself into, but when you do you're pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the couch next to you. he grabs hold of the book you'd haphazardly discarded, and flips it over. you imagine internally he's tsking at you, he was always reminding you to be careful of the spine of the books you read, but you're happy he doesn't make a move to scold you about it now. instead, he closes it, and places it in his lap, letting his eyes trace all over your pretty face.

"is everything okay?" he prods, and in truth, you were fine. you didn't really know why you'd gotten so lost in your head, it just happened sometimes. domesticity was still fairly new, and despite the fact that your relationship with spencer had gotten to the point where you both were comfortable staying at each other's places for long periods of time, you still kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. spencer was the first guy you'd been with that was older, already established, had a 'big boy job' as you so eloquently labeled it. he had security.

not that you were some lazy, unprepared individual letting your life slip by, but you were still figuring things out. you were in university, and you had big dreams and hopes for your future, it just felt like it was taking forever to get there. to your future. everyone was always telling you not to wish away your youth, but by law you were no longer a child, you hadn't been for a while. your twenties were meant to be for 'figuring things out', finding yourself all over again, or that's what you were always hearing. over time it felt easier said than done.

the point was when you were still uncertain about what you wanted to spend the rest of your life doing, it was hard to feel grown up. especially when you had a boyfriend like spencer who was always doing something to raise the bar for humanity. he was a genius, he worked for one of the most prestigious units in the fbi, he was in the fbi... that in itself was an accomplishment. he had phds, bachelor degrees, and an extensive knowledge of literature in numerous languages and texts. to top it all off, he really was a great boyfriend.

you supposed it was just you feeling a bit insecure. you didn't believe that he expected too much of you, but that didn't stop you from putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. "everything's fine." you promise, and you tack on a warm smile to really sell it. the action triggers an involuntary smile from spencer, and you feel a bit faint, just because he's so pretty. "i was just watching you read." you admit, and it was true, you had gotten a bit lost in how quickly spencer was speeding through his own book. it didn't trigger insecurity, it just left you in awe at how absurdly lucky you were to have bagged spencer.

"yeah?" and he's got this edge to his voice that he usually gets when he's tired, sleepy, content. it was comforting, knowing that he was comfortable being here, like this with you. "are you sure that you're alright?" and he's leaning forward, hand cupping your cheek as he rubs his thumb over your jaw, and you lean into him. "you know you can talk to me about anything." he adds, and he's perceptive. you're certain that part of this has to do with his job, and the other part has a lot to do with the fact that he knows you so well.

"i know." you answer instantly, and you bring your hand up to hold over top his. "trust me, i know. that's why i like you so much." you beam brightly, and you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips. it's a peck, and it sounds like one with the way that your lips smack together. you note his disappointment when you pull away just as he moved to kiss you a bit more fiercely. you find yourself giggling a bit as he pouts at you, and you lean in to offer him another kiss.

"like?" he asks, and you know he's fishing, but for what you're not sure. his eyes never look as bright as they do when he's sitting across from you. it offers you a bit of an ego boost to know that someone as handsome as your spencer consistently looks so enamored and enraptured with you. "i thought that we were a little past like..." he says, and your nose scrunches up at his big doe-eyed stare. "am i wrong about that?" and he holds his breath.

"no, you're right." you promise, and he relaxes. "we're past that." spencer looks relieved, and you wonder sometimes what's going on in his mind. he doesn't say anything for a while, he just looks at you, his thumb continues to draw soothing circles on your face, and you think you might be convinced to fall asleep if he keeps it up. "i'm sorry." you offer, and spencer's immediately shaking his head at you.

"don't apologize." he presses, and he's peeling his hand away from your face. now it's your turn to be disappointed. "and if you don't feel like we're past the 'i like yous'... that's okay too." and he looks sad now. it's your least favorite expression on him, and you wonder if you've done something wrong. "i don't want you to feel like you're rushing yourself, okay? or like you're forcing yourself to feel anything that you don't." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inward, face contorting.

"i don't feel that way." you deny sternly. spencer's head tips to the side, curls following along, and the urge to run your hands through his hair almost chokes you out. "spencer, i don't feel that way." you reiterate, and you hate that his expression doesn't change. you hate that he looks like he doesn't believe you. "i have too many feelings for you." you admit, and you shake your head. "all of the feelings." you insist, and the problem is that you haven't managed to fully verbalize what that means. spencer's told you that he loves you, often.

you haven't managed to say it back, but not because you don't believe it. it's more so out of worry that once you tell him, things will get too real. you'll grow too comfortable, and by-proximity expose parts of yourself that spencer might not be ready for. things that'll make him run for the hills, and take his sweet i love yous with him. "that's a lot of feelings." spencer replies, and he sighs deep, chest moving with the action. you smile, mostly to ward off the tension.

he doesn't return it, and you suddenly feel anxious. "do you want-" he trails off, and he looks conflicted. "if you wanted to break up..." and your heart sinks. "you would tell me, wouldn't you?" he asks, and you immediately reach out for him, his hands curling into yours as you interlock your fingers. you want to slam your head into a wall, mostly for worrying him in this way. The last thing you'd been thinking about was a breakup, in fact, you'd finally resided yourself to the fact that you were in this relationship as long as spencer wanted you.

"do you think that's what this is about?"

"isn't it?" his quick retort makes you frown, and now you're facing one another with matching pouts. "i just want you to trust me with your feelings... all of them." he explains. "even the ones i might not enjoy the most." he treads lightly, and you find that there's nobody in the world who could matter more to you. "and i'm sorry if i haven't been doing enough to let you know that." and you huff in annoyance, but not with him. never with him. with yourself for overthinking.

"you've got it all wrong." you tell him, and you hope your words sound as definitive as they feel. "a breakup is the farthest thing from my mind." you shuffle a bit on the couch, mostly to invade the space he just took. you don't stop moving until he's back in your orbit, your knees brushing against his leg. "i've never met anyone like you before." and it feels cliche, but you suppose you've earned the right to quote the words, because they're true. "i think as far as expectations for boyfriends go, you managed to smash through them all."

spencer finds himself nervous under the onslaught of kind words. he can't look away from you though, because it's so rare when you let him into your head. despite all his profiling skills, you were still almost completely a mystery. he understood your physical cues, but the emotional ones were still hard to pinpoint. "i think sometimes i still keep waiting for you to realize how amazing you are..." and he has that annoying feeling of giddiness in his stomach. it feels childish, but he adores the rush loving you continues to give him.

"i think i'm a little aware." he says, and you laugh. your hands reach out, and now you're the one holding his face. he thinks it's a comfort thing of yours, the way you like to hold onto him when you're talking. his apprehension towards touch was no match for the way your hands on his face brought him a feeling of comfort like nothing else.

"and you still want to be with me?" you ask, and you don't sound bashful, more confused than anything else. spencer's confusion soon matches your own, his eyebrows furrowing as he recites your words over and over in his head. what sort of question was that? "i just mean that there's so many types of women out there... you work with so many." and your mind drifts to his closeness with the girls he worked with in the fbi. namely jennifer jareau.

you'd only met her a few times, you knew she was married with sons, but you couldn't shake the thought that if she wanted him she could have him. she was older, more confident, disastrously pretty. "i just don't understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me." you express, and spencer is flabbergasted. he forces you to peel your hands from his face, instead choosing to hold your hands and squeeze them gingerly.

"someone like you?" and he wants you to get it all out, every last bit of it, mostly so that he can correct every incorrect notion about yourself that you expose.

"someone who's immature, naive, inexperienced, uncertain about almost every major decision... you know? someone like me." you divulge, and he winces. "you've got so much going for you, i just don't want you to feel like i'm holding you back." you admit. "so when i saw you reading... i don't know-" you trail off, and spencer's eyes shoot across the room to his own discarded book. "i guess i just remembered how incredible you are, and how severely inadequate i must be in comparison." and your voice gets quieter as you finish.

"you could never hold me back." he states firmly. "and even more than that... i don't think it's actually possible for someone to really hold you back." he admits, and you feel him beginning to start on a tangent, though you don't mind. they were far and few in between these days. "to me it always seemed more like an excuse people use to place blame on someone else for their shortcomings." spencer's let go of your hands, and you watch them as he gestures boisterously. "for everything i'm good at, there's so many areas where i fall short."

you don't think you've ever loved him more.

"and who says phd's and fast reading skills are what make a person better suited or fit for anything?" and he knows that you want to rebuttal, so he continues so you don't get the chance to. "my skills help me with the job that i do... we can agree that's true, right?" he asks, and you nod your head. "right. but, you don't want to have my job, do you?" he asks, and your nose curls up. you thought that what spencer did was admirable, you loved celebrating the victories with him, you knew it was important, but you don't think you had it in you.

"no, i guess not." you disagree.

"and you don't need to be called 'doctor' or hold a gun, or kick down doors, in order to be... a suitable life partner."

"you're not kicking down any doors, spencer." you crack a joke, and you like that he laughs, it's the kind that morphs into a toothy smile.

"maybe not, i just mean that out of the two of us, you're not the one who needs to worry about not being adequate... i don't think there's anything in existence that would make me not want to be with you." and you feel bashful, but know full well that you can't pull your eyes away from him. "you're a lot to lose." he exhales, and you blink. "and you don't need doctorates or much of anything for that to be the case." spencer beams a little bit, "you captivate people without even realizing it sometimes." spencer's hand moves to rest on your thigh.

"you think so?"

"sometimes i try and figure out how i got so lucky, and i hope that i keep doing whatever it takes to make you stay." he admits. "does that make sense?" he asks, and you feel your heart wanting to burst out of your chest.

"it makes a lot of sense." you agree. "and i can guarantee that as long as you want me, you'll have me." you promise.

"and if i want you forever?" he asks, and you smile despite yourself.

"then i guess you're stuck with me forever, doctor reid." and he likes the thought a lot more than he anticipated. he thinks that's why he can't ignore the urge to kiss you. he leans forward, lips overtaking yours like a magnet being pulled towards a kindred force. you almost pounce, finding yourself rooted on top of his lap, fingers finally finding solace in his hair, as his hands scope out your waist and the curve of your hips.

you hum when his lips peel away from yours, landing on your neck as he peppered the space with kisses and small bites. kissing spencer was a surefire way to get you both started down a path of insatiability. it was dangerous, but you supposed with the conversation context in mind, it made perfect sense for this to be the end result. still, it feels like there's more to say, and you suppose that it's why you tighten your hold on his hair just slightly, craning your neck to give him all the access he needs. "spence?" you gasp.

he doesn't verbally acknowledge you, instead his arms loop around you, bringing you closer as he proceeds to leave hickeys in areas that would be much too difficult to hide. "spence..." you try again.

"i'm listening." he promises before he's placing a kiss just behind your ear. it makes you squirm, suddenly feeling lightheaded as his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

"can you tell me again?" you ask, and you don't want to ruin the moment, especially after he just sweetly poured his heart out to you. "tell me how you feel about me..." you instruct a bit more impatiently. spencer's more interested in leaving more marks on your skin, but he also enjoys the vulnerability that comes with expressing himself to you. he pulls away from your neck with one last peck, before his lust-filled gaze is locked on yours. you've taken to raking your nails through his hair, gently dragging against his scalp.

"you still don't know?" he asks, and part of you thinks he's doing this on purpose. it's not until you register the slight upturn of his lips that you recognize that he's teasing you.

"is it so bad that i want to hear it again?" you press, and you're feeling a bit impatient, mostly because you're itching to finally spit the three word phrase out, but you want him to say it first.

"no." he denies, head shaking. "it's not bad at all, and i don't mind telling you, but, can you ask me the right way?" and you feel the shift, the way his fingers finally slip under your shirt. it makes you jump, the way his fingertips trace over the skin of your lower back. "what are you fishing for, pretty girl?" you don't have the courage to stare at him anymore, instead you find your head glued to his chest, eyes squeezed shut, as your arms looped around him.

"i'm not fishing." you deny, and spencer presses a swift kiss to the top of your head. despite the desire to 'get to the good part' that you know you both feel, you still enjoy this part. the clinginess, the way he showered you in attention and affection that you had never believed yourself worthy of. he loved you so openly, so easily. it never felt like a burden, it never felt like something he had to try too hard at. you liked that, you liked that he made falling in love so easy.

"no?" he doesn't sound convinced. "what are you hoping i'll say then? i know you have an idea." he says and his chin is resting on the top of your head as he adjusts you on his lap. the tension still rests in the air, but he's holding you like he's comforting you almost, arms looped around you in an almost-hug that feels warm and comfortable and familiar. it's the kind that you could get lost in, fall asleep in. maybe you will, just as soon as you get through this last little emotional hoop.

"you don't know everything."

"did i say that?" he corrects you lowly, he's not impatient with you, and you wonder how long it took him to garner enough stamina to keep up with your sass.

"no." you deny, and he hums in agreement. you've taken to running your hands up and down his back, palms closing and opening as you try and quiet your anxiety. "i want to hear you say that you love me again." you admit, and it feels like a lump is forming in your throat. "i know that you do." you add a second after. "but sometimes i like to hear it anyway..." you clear your throat. "it makes me feel-" and you trail off, because you haven't really gotten over this hurdle.

spencer's smiling, and you know that he is, because as much as he knows you, you think you know him a little bit too. "how does it make you feel?" he asks, and you shake your head, eliciting an amused sort of exhale. "you can tell me anything." he reminds you, and of course you know that. "or we could move on... if it's too much to say right now." he offers you an out like the gentleman he always has been. "do you want to go back to before?" and you definitely want to kiss him.

maybe do a bit more than kiss.

"yes." you agree, but when it seems like he's about to move, you hold him even tighter to you. "wait, no." you deny, and he's exhaling through his nose. you cringe, because you know that sometimes you can be indecisive, but you think about what he'd told you earlier. you remind yourself that he wanted you, and you calm down. "i want to kiss you again." you start, and he doesn't say anything, because he knows you're not finished. "but i want to finish our conversation first." you huff, and he's surprised, in a pleasant sort of way.

"we can do that." he promises, "what do you want to tell me?"

"i like when you tell me that you love me." you admit, and you think it's good that you're not looking at him. you also like that he's still lightly dragging his fingers along your waist, it makes you shy, but you welcome it. "it's not something that you just tell everyone, so i like that you tell me, even though i haven't said it back." you feel like you're losing your breath as you rush to get it out. "and i like how what you said earlier makes me feel."

"how's that?" and spencer is spencer. he likes to drag things like this out, he likes for you to elaborate, to explain yourself. you suppose he likes to hear you just as much as you like to hear him.

"i don't know how to express it really, but it feels nice. 'cause you always sound like you mean it when you say it." you freeze when his fingers stop their slow journey, but you don't have time to focus on that right now. "not like butterflies, but it's like stabilizing." you shrug your shoulders. "and it's not the sort of thing that feels like it comes with some sort of price. like i don't hear it, and think 'oh he's only saying this because he wants to sleep with me', it doesn't-" you inhale. "it doesn't make me anxious or anything."

spencer's disappointed that his memory mostly works for things he's seen rather than heard, because he wants to relive this conversation for the rest of his life. it's a bit unheard of, especially in his lifetime. he's seen people in love, he's witnessed incredible relationships, but nothing he's seen has ever compared to the way that you manage to make him feel. he's had girlfriends, one-night-stands, experimentations, and things in between that felt like they could be the real thing, eventually. being with you though feels easy.

even when things go wrong, when you're too stubborn to communicate, and he's too tired to fight for you to, it still feels easy. like the struggles that come with your relationship are struggles he's willing to deal with. you're someone he's willing to deal with.

"it makes me want to stay." you offer, and it's scary, mostly because you've got the world's worst habit of running away when things get too real. you packed your bags at the first inconvenience, it was who you were, who you had been before spencer. you didn't stick around to fight for your relationships, you didn't let anyone fight for you either. "like... like even if things go horribly wrong, it'll still be okay as long as you still sound like you mean it when you say i love you."

you don't think you'll cry, but you do think once you're all finished, you'll want to stay wrapped up in him like this.

"i've just never met anyone that makes life make so much sense." and your leg is slightly shaking, and you're burrowing even deeper into his chest, holding him just a bit tighter. "so please... can you tell me again?" you ask, and your hands have taken fistfuls of his shirt, curling just slightly as you try and will your heartbeat to slow.

"you all done?" he asks, and you nod your head, all done with talking for now. "i'm so proud of you." and your confusion is back, as well as your ability to talk.

"what for?" you inquire, and he unloops his arms from around you. you don't want to move, but you know where this is going. still, you decide you'll wait until he asks you.

"can you look at me, please?" he asks quietly, and you're immediately pulling back, hands in your lap as you take in all the emotions resting on your boyfriend's face.

"oh, spence!" and you hope he's not about to cry. you've never been privy to it, but you can imagine what it'll do to you in your emotionally high state. "i know that was a lot, i'm sorry." you apologize despite the fact that you've done nothing wrong, a bad habit.

"please don't ever apologize for something like that." he corrects you gently. "i'm proud, because i can imagine how hard that likely was, but you did it anyway, so thank you for sharing how you're feeling with me." you look away just for a second, the moment feeling too heavy for you to manage. you're looking back at him just a moment after, his stare something you've always been terrible at ignoring and avoiding. "would it be a let down if i told you that i feel the same way about you?" he asks, and you wonder if this phase ever ends.

you don't want to wake up one day and find that your smile no longer reaches your eyes when you look at him, or hear his voice.

"no." you answer quietly. "i like when you agree with me, especially about your feelings for me." and it's a small joke, one you partially mean. "but, you still haven't told me that you love me, yet." you remind him a bit more sternly than you have been.

"i know." he retorts, and he looks a bit smug. you want to say that you hate when he gets like this, but you know you're lying. "i'm waiting to see how long it'll take you to crack." he admits, and your nose curls. he beams at you, and you want to glare, just for the fun of it. "why are you determined not to say it first?" he asks, and you cross your arms over your chest, busted.

"you don't know what's in my head." you instead argue, and his eyes roll, but he still seems amused. "i can say it first if i very well wish." you add, and his eyebrows raise, a challenge. unlucky for you, because you had a problem with being challenged. you would always walk right into his trap like a fool.

"so then say it." he taunts, and you realize pride is one hell of a killer.

"fine, i will." you retort, voice laced in mock-aggravation. "i love you." you deadpan, you say it like it's a bother. "happy now?"

"not with that attitude. can you try again? say it like you mean it?" he presses, and you're weaker in the knees than you initially believed. all your bravado goes right out the window, and you're suddenly anxious again, with no bite to curb your words, you're certain he'll hear every ounce of emotion you feel towards him if you say it again.

"spence." you exclaim, and he's not moved. you think you hate him just a little. "it's not fair, you're being mean." you express, looking down at your lap, and you know that you're only behaving this way because you're overwhelmed.

"i'm not." he promises, and he ducks just a little so that you're looking directly at him again. "i wouldn't be, especially not about this." he adds. "i just want you to say it again for me, can you do that? please?" he asks, and you hate how absurdly handsome he is sitting across from you. he's got this way of looking innocent even when he's baiting you, and he's always got this intensity in his stare that's enough to knock the wind out of you. it's kryptonite, and precisely why you concede.

"spencer, i love you." he groans, quietly, but you hear him all the same. he's kissing you before you can react, and it's easy getting lost in moments like these. he always kisses you like he's trying to swallow you whole, too handsy for his own good. his kisses are desperate, tongue swiping out just slightly, likely to test the waters. you match his ferocity, and let your own tongue drag over his bottom lip before you press a bit more forcibly, hurriedly, desperately.

"i love you." you don't know why you're saying it again, but it's not as hard as the first time. you kiss him again, grumbling when he's quick to lean out of reach. you shoot him a sour glance, and he's not moved.

"hey, i love you too." he echoes you in the most love sick sort of way. it feels precisely as you had described it earlier, and that makes you happier. the fact that the feelings didn't change, didn't disappear all because you'd said the three words back. you hum contentedly, and then your head is back on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "does it still sound like i mean it?" he asks, he questions you softly, like he's trying to preserve the moment.

"mhm." you answer quietly, and you strain to kiss his throat once, before your back to resting against him. "did it sound like i meant it?" you mimic his line of questioning, and you're happy when his arms are back around you. he's a lot more respectable this time around, but before long, his hands are finding their chosen place back under your shirt, exploring your waist and hips as you try not to squirm.

"yes." he replies, and you're glad to hear it. "can you say it again?" you suppose in the grand scheme, you do have lots to make up for. he'd probably want you to say it over and over again.

"i love you." it's instantaneous, as is the way spencer's hold on you grows more firm. you hadn't wanted to mention it, the way sitting here like this with him had you itching for more, but it seemed you weren't the only one in that headspace. "spence?" you question, and he's dragging his hand up and down your back, legs starting to bounce just slightly.

"yeah?"

"can we go back to before now?" you ask, and you expect him to be a tease. he could never just give you what you wanted, he always had to drag it out, and make you nervous.

"back to before?" he pries, and he's leading. you huff audibly, and you adjust yourself on his lap, trying to control the way the pit in your stomach seemed to grow warm, heating you up from the inside. "you'll have to be a bit more specific than that, love." he tsks, and you hate him.

"i just-" you frown, hating this part. "i want you." you deadpan. "and you know that, so i don't know why you're being like this." except you do, because it's amusing to spencer to watch you get all flustered and nervous. you don't know why, but it's how he is. you think that one day you'll try your hand at flustering him back, just to see what all the hype is about. "i want you to-" and you're not sure exactly what counts for too blunt with a boyfriend like spencer. "let's f-fuck, okay?" and spencer's got that stupid amused look on his face again.

god, you hate him.

"that wasn't too hard was it?" he questions, and you cut your eyes. you're certain he'll make you pay for the looks, and the smart mouth down the line, but you can't care right now.

"it was excruciating." you correct haughtily. "you should be ashamed of yourself for treating the girl that you love this way." you add, and spencer's got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he takes you in. you gulp, shuffling just slightly as you realize precisely the predicament you've gotten yourself into.

"do you want me to make it up to you?" he asks, and he sounds breathier than before, which only serves to make you more of a hot-and-bothered mess.

"i-" you blink owlishly, unsure of his intentions.

"yes or no?" he presses, and you think either way this goes, your done for. "you've just got to say the word."

"yes." head nodding, eyes blown to hell, it's easy enough. "you should. you definitely should." you respond, and then he's kissing you again. he's much more intense this time, stealing all of the air out of your lungs as his nails scratch against your skin, you hands moving to cup his face, you hope to keep him anchored to you this way. when he breaks from the kiss again, you're ready to lay into him, only to squeak when he scoops you up, standing up from the chair.

your legs immediately lock around his hips, and you're panting already, he seemed to have that constant effect. all it took was a little kissing, and you were already a mess. "i love you." he says this like it's a reminder, and you are quick to chase his mouth with your own. you could say you were a bit obsessed with the act.

"i know." you reply, and his eyes roll at you, but he still looks as love sick as you feel.

"good. i'm going to need you to remember that, because when we get to the bed, i'm going to do a lot of things that might make you think the opposite." he says this like a definitive promise, and you gasp. "do you understand?" he asks, and you're shivering, the anticipation already managing to strike you down.

"yeah-yes!" you stutter. "i understand, it's okay." you add. spencer's already got this look of pride residing in his eyes, and you know that you're in for it, silly you for thinking love confessions would be enough to get you out of all the backtalk and clear attitude. "i'm ready!" you insist like the eager girl you are.

"we'll see." he retorts.

god, you love him.

[hederasgarden]

Like Oil and Water

Summary: Your office power struggle with Scott comes to a head. Paring: Scott (Twisters) x F!Scientist!Reader Word Count: 2.1K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Enemies to lovers trope, PIV sex, fingering, and dirty talk. Slight angst.  A/N: The story is based on this ask I received. I know there are like…five Scott fans out there besides me so I hope y’all like this. I have no explanation for this fic except I’m horny for Scott. I had an alternative ending to this story but whoops feelings crept in. Thank you to @ryebecca, @whatblogisthis216 and @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking this over. The snazzy summary is courtesy of @writercole.

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day. 

David Corenswet Characters Masterlist

“I’m never picking up your coffee order again,” Javi swears, handing the Starbucks cup to you. “Whatever happened to coffee with a little bit of cream?”

“Capitalism,” you reply, taking a sip. It wasn’t exactly how you liked it, missing that deep caramel flavor, but you appreciate Javi’s effort. “Thanks again.”

He nods, drinking from his cup as you make your way down to the labs, discussing the results from the latest test. 

“We will need to adjust the relays, but other than that, I think we’re in good shape,” you tell him. “I’ll let the techs know we need those changes made this week.”

“Sounds good. I gotta make a quick call, but I’ll join you after,” Javi promises, disappearing into his office while you make your way down the hall.

You hear the low timber of Scott's voice before you spot him in conversation with one of the female techs. You loathe to admit it but he looks good, his tanned forearms on display with the sleeves of his white company shirt rolled up. The baseball cap tucked into his back pocket and dusty boots let you know he probably came straight from the field. 

"We need to fix the relays. They failed the test. Again. That's unacceptable," he begins, gearing up for another one of his infamous lectures. "Back when I was at MIT, this type of calibration was the first thing we were taught."

Scott may have been one of the smartest guys on Javi’s team but he was also a smug asshole. From the moment you met him, he irritated you, reminding you of every man who thought he was smarter and better than you just because of his gender. Everyone expected engineers to be difficult to work with, but Scott took it to another level. Who could blame you for taking him down a peg or two when you had the chance?

"So you went to MIT. Big whoop," you begin, delighted to see Scott tense up at the sound of your voice. When he turns to face you, the tech is quick to scurry away. "Call me when you have a PhD from a real school, like Caltech, Scotty."

He hates it when you call him that but today it's your jab about MIT that strikes a nerve. A muscle in his jaw jumps, and he exhales harshly. God, that angry look in his eye really did something for you. Too bad his looks couldn’t make up for how much of a dick he could be. 

Scott practically spits your first name out, stepping into your space to loom over you. His broad shoulders and muscular build block your view of the lab. You tilt your head to look at him, fighting the urge to smile. "You really should address me as ‘doctor,’" you calmly remind him, tapping your name badge. 

You arch a brow, waiting for his response but his mouth snaps shut, attention moving to something behind you. 

It’s Javi.

"Come on guys," he sighs. "Play nice."

You glance over your shoulder, smiling sweetly. "I'm always nice.”

"Why are you even in the labs today?" Scott questions, glancing down at your heels. 

You smooth a hand down your dress and smile. "I'm the Vice President of R&D for Storm Par. These are my labs. I belong here.”

"Dressed like that?" He scoffs. 

"What, you don't like it?" You ask, turning in a slow circle. 

"We had a meeting with some new investors," Javi supplies, trying to cut off the start of another fight between the two of you. 

Scott turns away and you can practically hear his teeth grinding together. He still hasn’t forgiven you for talking Javi out of letting his uncle invest in the company. It would have been easy money but you never liked the business plan. It was best to stick with government grants and investors without any personal connections. 

Javi touches your arm. “Come on, we gotta finish that grant.”

You hum in agreement, trailing behind him to the doorway. Pausing, you glance back and catch Scott watching you, his lips pressed into a thin line. With a grin, you wiggle your fingers at him, amused to see the furrow in his brow deepen even further.

The rest of your day is blessedly Scott-free and you spend your time buried in meetings and wading through needlessly complicated grant submissions. Javi employed some of the smartest people you’ve ever had the privilege of working with but they were terrible when it came to making the science digestible to investors. You sigh, rubbing your temples. It was going to be a long night.

You work uninterrupted, buried in the complexities of the grant, until Scott storms into your office, slamming the door behind him. “Did you tell the techs they could go home early?” he demands.

“Please, do come in,” you deadpan, setting aside the papers you’re holding.

“Did you send them home?” He repeats, rounding your desk and invading your personal space. At his side, his hands are clenched into fists, the veins in his neck standing out.

“I did.” You rise to your full height but even in heels, he dwarfs you. 

“That wasn’t your call.”

“You do remember my job title, right?”

“I’m VP of Operations,” he reminds you. “I say when they go home, especially when we’re on a deadline.”

“They report to me, and you’ve had them working long hours,” you fire back.

He shakes his head, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, as he gives you an unimpressed look. “You’re too soft on them. I told Javi you weren’t right for this job. This isn’t academia. We work hard here.” 

You bristle at his words, clenching your fist so tightly that your nails dig into the soft skin of your palm. He has no idea what it took for you to get here, the challenges you faced, or the men like him you had to prove yourself to.

“Go fuck yourself, Scott.” 

You glare up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly. You wait, ready for whatever asshole comment is sure to come but he just stares at you. Then, to your surprise, his gaze drops to your mouth. You freeze, electricity zipping up your spine when you realize you’re close enough for your chest to brush his as you exhale. Looking back, you won't remember the impulse that led you to tilt your head and press your lips to his, only that you did.

The kiss only lasts a second before you pull away, heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, neither of you moves, but then suddenly he surges forward, his large hand grasping the side of your face. His lips crash into yours roughly. A hand at your hip urges you back until you bump your desk but he doesn’t stop until he’s practically dragged you on top of it. He presses in close, eating up what little space remains. You groan, grasping at his shirt as you push your hips into his. 

“Fuck,” he pants, resting his forehead against yours as his warm breath fans across your face. For one terrible second, you think he might stop or say something stupid to ruin the moment but then he’s kissing you again. He forces a hand between your bodies and roughly pulls your underwear aside so his fingers can drag through your folds. You’d be shocked by how fast it’s all happening but any higher thought fizzles out once his thumb circles your clit and his tongue breaks the seam of your lips to taste you. 

You’re breathless when he pulls away, back arching in response to his talented fingers. Through your lashes you see him smirk down at you. “No smart comebacks now?” He questions.

Before you can retort he adds a second finger. You moan, rolling your hips to seek more of him. “Knew you’d be fucking greedy,” he whispers.

He watches you fuck yourself on his hand with a hungry glint in his eyes until your pace slows. He glanced at your face. You rise up on your elbows, brow raised. “Am I going to do all the work here?” 

“Shut up,” he growls, withdrawing his fingers.

A witty comeback is on the tip of your tongue but it dies when Scott brings his fingers to his mouth. He stares down at you while he sucks them clean, his Adam's apple bobbing. Your stomach clenches hard at the sight. 

“That’s better,” he comments, unbuckling his belt. “Nice and quiet.” 

He takes a condom from his wallet and rolls it on his thick length. If there was ever a time to stop, it’s now. You look at Scott, his dark gaze swimming with desire and push the thought away, rising up to kiss him. The blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance and you lift your hips. You relish the way he looks, dark hair curling over his sweaty forehead and his body straining for you. Knowing you’ve done this to him sends a rush of want through you. 

Scott pushes inside slowly, hissing as your wet heat envelopes him until he’s halfway in and then he snaps his hips forward unexpectedly. Your breath leaves your lungs in a rush. He falls forward and the weight of him is electrifying. You’d be embarrassed at the desperate little sounds his mouth swallows up if he didn’t feel so damn good. 

He fucks with an intense kind of precision you’ve seen him bring to his work, reaching deep inside you to hit all the right places. You bury your fingers in his dark hair and pull, eliciting a needy moan from the irritatingly talented man above you. 

“You gonna come for me?” He asks, breathless. 

A desperate little, please, slips past your lips without your permission, spurring him on. He hooks a hand under your knee and forces your leg into your chest as he keeps up his frantic pace. The new angle takes him even deeper and pleasure ripples through your stomach. He feels unbelievably good and you practically sob when he pulls back and rises to his full height, afraid he’s going to stop. But he doesn’t, grasping your hips with both hands and forcing you to meet his thrusts. 

You’re tantalizing close and, without thinking, you reach down to help yourself along but Scott is quick to slap your hand away, replacing it with his own. 

“That’s mine,” he growls, the rough pad of his thumb catching on the sensitive skin. He watches with rapt attention as his cock and fingers work in tandem to drive you over the edge. You come with his name on your lips. 

“Fuck, just like that,” he gasps. 

Before you can recover your breath, he leans down and kisses you, his weight pressing you into the desk as his hips move relentlessly. Then he shoves himself deep inside and stills, groaning. Your ears ring and your body buzzes with the aftershocks of your own orgasm. The two of you stay like that, intertwined and panting until, finally, Scott moves. 

Cool air rushes between your bodies and you stare up at him. You can see him thinking in real time, his clever gaze searching your face as he continues to process what happened. What could either of you possibly say after this? Nothing good you realize. 

“Don’t,” you whisper, finger pressed to his lips. “Don’t ruin it.” 

Scott closes his eyes and swallows hard. Then he's moving, slipping out of you with a grunt. He turns away from you, redressing. The clink of his belt buckle is loud in the quiet office. Pressing your fingers to your swollen lips, you take a moment to let yourself feel everything before pushing it aside and standing on unsteady legs.

You fix your appearance the best you can and busy yourself with shuffling the mess of papers strewn everywhere. It might be cowardly, but you keep your gaze fixed on your desk when you hear the door creak open. You wait, the minutes dragging by until you know it’s safe to look up, only to find Scott still there.

He lingers in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you. 

Then you blink and he’s gone. 

♡

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[avcdgrdn]

what if the OG mystery trio was born in 1997 instead of the 50's? welcome to my very self-indulgent AU:

[ explanation & more info below cut 😏 ] ↓ ↓ ↓

my fancy lil' name for the AU is RWFF [ rewind, fast forward ]

having been born at the very beginning of gen Z, this puts the trio at around 27 years old present day! it's a modern AU with a little bit of seasoning to it ...

no bill cipher [ let my boys be happy & un-traumatized ]

by 2014: the machine incident still happens, but stan never gets disowned: he apologizes, ford forgives him & stands up for him when his father gets mad. this allows stan to stay in the house, and he never sets out on his own.

staying true to canon, ford attends backupsmore, meets fiddleford, and does like a crap ton of PHDs until he receives the massive grant that allows him to explore gravity falls. however, since he never meets bill cipher, he never delves into the portal project. instead, he finds massive success with all of his other paranormal discoveries and ingenious inventions [ COUGH filthy rich COUGH ]

all throughout his studies, ford would often contact fiddleford for assistance on random projects. they hung out a lot for sure and got super close :)

meanwhile, stanley's chillin & working with a car repair shop back in new jersey. thanks to ford, his family is really well off, so he doesn't necessarily urgently need to provide for himself. he takes an interest in cars, so he loves his job. he keeps in touch with his twin almost every day [ we love smartphones ]

by 2024: having found such good success in gravity falls, ford remembers his twin brother & extends the invitation for stan to move in with him so that they can work on the stan-o-war together, which he readily accepts. :D

present day: stan & ford are living together in gravity falls & working on the stan-o-war. [ basically what the canon timeline twins end up doing after many more years ]

fiddleford often comes to visit, either for a scientific project or just to chill with the twins. he's also a successful inventor, just in a different font [ he for sure has that manor fr 🤑 ]

the beauty of this being present day is the aesthetics:

ford heavily identifies with the classic academia aesthetic

fidds takes on a 70's artsy-fartsy hippie granola guy aesthetic [ septum piercing & tattoos fidds pls save me ]

stan sticks to street fashion/racer jackets for suuure. he's thinking about getting into motorcycles... he heard that chicks really dig that nowadays.

so like ........ yeah 🕺

who would you date first please lmk 😘

[therealcocoshady]

Football season - Commission

Author’s Note : Hi guys ! It’s been a while since I last posted something 😉. It is my great pleasure to share this little one shot that was commissioned to me on my Ko-Fi page 💕. I still take requests via Asks but Ko-Fi commissions are prioritized 😉.

Also, thank you to anyone who tips & commissions. It means a lot to a struggling PhD student 💕.

Enjoy !

Football season had officially started and to say you were disappointed was an understatement. You thought you’d enjoy watching games with Marshall in the comfort of your living room, resting on his lap and cuddle with him, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. There was nothing cute or romantic. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It involved grown men yelling in your living room, screaming at the players on TV, spilling food everywhere. You could have turned a blind eye if Marshall had made any effort to make it up to you but… no. Your weekly date night had been replaced by football night and, though at first you had decided to make peace with it, you were fed up. He could have included you in this whole thing but the only time you had tried to watch the game with him and his friends, you had made the cardinal mistake of asking some clarification about the rules, only to be shushed by your man. So, whenever the guys came over (which means whenever they were not actually at the stadium), you retreated to another room after greeting them. You still tried to make an effort and ask Marshall how it went whenever he went to find you after the game, but you weren’t really interested. You had gone a whole six weeks without going on a single date and you felt neglected. Maybe you should have expected this. Maybe being taken for granted happens after moving in together with the man you love. Maybe every woman in America has to put up with something similar. Except you weren’t every woman in America. You were the one and only woman who managed to capture the heart of Marshall Mathers, who already had to put up with a lot, and who deserved a whole lot better than this. You knew your worth and, if Marshall needed to be reminded of who he was living with, you would happily do it.

- Hey pretty girl, he said lovingly as you walked down the stairs in one of your prettiest dresses that you knew he loved. Where are you going dressed like this ?

- On a date, you said casually as you pecked his cheek. Have fun with the guys today.

- Date ? What date ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- The one my boyfriend will not take me on, you shrugged.

With these words, you left the room before he could even reply. If he didn’t want to take you out, fine. You were a grown woman and you were determined to give yourself what you deserved. In this case, a nice meal in your favorite fancy restaurant, some retail therapy and even a spa session. You were worth it. Sure, not everyone in your household seemed to know it, but you absolutely refused to let it undermine you. So you had the loveliest day by yourself, enjoying the absence of grown men yelling at some football players, as if they could do better on the field. The people you saw at the restaurant were dressed normally and you didn’t have to do put up with corny football apparel. And as you tried on dresses in your favorite store, you purposefully avoided the one in a shade of blue that reminded you of the Detroit Lions logo. You ended up treating yourself to a new dress, a cute lingerie set and a new handbag you’d been eyeing for a while. You ended the day with a trip to your favorite spa where you got a massage. Your whole « date with yourself » was insanely relaxing, and all frustration was gone when you walked back in the house, carrying your bags. As soon as you opened the door, Marshall came to greet you and took the bags from your hands so that you wouldn’t have to carry them. The whole house was clean and calm. A far cry from the usual mess on game night, when his friends would often stay late.

- Where’s everyone ? You asked.

- Sent them home after the game, he said with a smile.

- Did the team lose ?

- Nope, he replied. We won. But I figured we could use a night just the two of us. So that I can make it up to you for being a bad boyfriend.

You cupped his cheek and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

- It’s fine, you shrugged.

- It’s not, he said. I don’t want you to think I’m taking you for granted. I got a little carried away with football and I know it’s on me for missing date night but… I miss you, babe.

- I miss you too, you cooed as he pulled you in a hug.

- How was your date with yourself ? He asked. Did you have a good time ?

- I did, you said with a smile. Did some shopping, went to a nice restaurant and even got a massage. I’m good company.

- This, I know, he chuckled.

- The date was so good I’d deserve to seal the deal, you grinned.

- Oh really ? He asked with a smirk.

- Yes, you hummed. Definitely taking myself to bed and getting some.

- Any way I can get an invite ? He asked lovingly as he cupped your ass.

- Do you think you deserve one ? You giggled.

He smiled and kissed you before leading you to the living room. A huge bouquet of your favorite flowers was standing on the coffee table, and he had prepared a small set up with your favorite snacks and drinks in front of the TV, complete with some cute candles.

- I though we could have a little date night, he suggested. Unless you-

- It’s just perfect, you cooed.

- How about your show me what you bought, doll ? He suggested.

You grabbed the bags and showed him your purchases. You ended up trying on the dress for him and showing him the bag.

- What’s in that box ? He asked as he pointed to the only thing you hadn’t shown him yet.

- Lingerie, you hummed.

- Don’t you want to show me ? He asked innocently.

- Not sure you deserve it just yet, you grinned.

He chuckled and you could see in his eyes that he relished the challenge. He was the most competitive person you knew. You should have known he’d take it this way. Still, you made sure to playfully roll your eyes. The two of you ended up lounging on the couch, watching a movie. Marshall even let you choose, and you happily put on a crappy chick flick, your guilty pleasure. You were cuddling, curled up on his side while he played with the hem of your new dress, not really paying attention to the movie.

- You’re so pretty, he whispered. I’m the luckiest man on earth.

- Glad you finally recognize it, you grinned.

- I love the guys but, frankly, game night doesn’t compare to this, he continued as he buried his face in your neck before placing a kiss there.

You let out a soft giggle and enjoyed the warmth of his embrace while you focused on the movie. With each passing minute, he held you a little closer and, eventually, you ended up on his lap, munching on popcorn while he stroked your thigh, his fingers going higher and higher as time went on.

- Marshall, you lightly scolded.

- But you’re so pretty, he whispered. And your skin is so soft.

- I blame the body oil they used for the message, you hummed.

- I could have given you a massage if you’d asked, he grinned.

- Right, you chortled.

- Don’t believe me ? He asked.

- You would have taken advantage, you hummed. Can’t keep your hands to yourself.

- How can I be expected to, when you’re so beautiful ? He asked before mouthing at your neck from behind.

You let out a sight of satisfaction and you could feel smile against your skin. How could you be expected to stay mad at him when he was being so adorable ? He kept on stroking your thigh, while one of his hand gently cupped your boob, thumb grazing over your nipple. You let out a small moan, unable to hide your pleasure.

- How could I neglect you like this, love ? He whispered. Gotta make it up to you, yeah ?

- Yeah, you said breathily.

His hand that was on your thigh traveled higher to go and cup your pussy over the lace of your panties, as he kept on fondling your boob.

- Marsh-… th-the movie, you said unconvincingly.

- Keep watching, babe, I got you, he said seductively.

Before you could say anything, he got up and let you settle in the couch, before kneeling between your legs and removing your panties.

- Let me make it up to you, he pleaded.

You nodded and he bunched your dress up to your waist, getting a better access to your pussy that was already throbbing with anticipation. Without a second of hesitation, he buried his face between your legs and began eating you out, gently exploring your folds with his tongue. You were so comfortable, resting against the couch pillows, your head against the headrest, all you had to do was to enjoy the moment and, boy, did he make it enjoyable. He took his sweet time, as if he was enjoying a gourmet meal, softly teasing your clit. His hands were on your thighs, keeping them apart, fingers gently digging into your skin. You watched him from above, enjoying how focused he was, eyes closed, dedicating himself to it, to you. You ran your hand in his hair, prompting him to keep going, which he happily did. His tongue was soft against your bud, sending shivers in your whole body. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the heavenly sensation of your man pleasuring you.

- I love you, you whimpered.

He hummed, sending vibrations against your pussy, making you moan. You could feel your own wetness, only increased by his saliva. He gently inserted a finger in you and you almost felt relieved. You abandoned yourself to the sweet sensation and, soon enough, upon seeing how wet you were, he added another one, gently curling them so that they’d hit that sweet spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t hold your mewls, the combination of him sucking on your clit and fingering you at the same time making you feel ecstatic. You tightened the grip on his head, unconsciously praying he wouldn’t stop, and this prompted him to quicken the pace of his fingers. You could feel your toes curl and pleasure tickle your body as your breathing accelerated, your climax being near. Your heard yourself beg for relief and Marshall happily obliged, making you cry tears of euphoria. You could feel him smile against your pussy and he placed a kiss on your inner thigh before getting up and kissing you. You were all zoned out, the couch having turned into a cloud. He chuckled as soon as he saw your face and he gently cupped your cheek, admiring the glow the orgasm gave you.

- I’m so in love with you, he said.

- I love you, you cooed. Do you want me to-

- I’m good, love, he replied with a smile. It’s all about you.

You hummed before shivering a bit, making him chuckle. He always made fun of how you were always cold after having an orgasm. He grabbed one of his hoodies that was nearby and handed it to you. You kissed him lovingly as a thank you and decided to go change, putting a PJ short, a tank top and his hoodie. When you got back to the living room, he gestured for you to sit in his lap and you cuddled while watching what was left of the movie. Evidently, you hadn’t paid a lot of attention to what was on screen. You tried to catch up, enjoying Marshall’s arms around you. There was what you missed about date night : time set aside just for the two of you, his warm presence and his intoxicating cologne. You didn’t need much. When the movie ended, he led you to the bedroom and you laid in bed while he undressed, only keeping his boxers on. You couldn’t help but stare as he removed his tee-shirt, revealing his perfect chest, toned abs and muscular pecs. You’d been together for a while but every single time you saw this man undress, you found yourself to be under his spell.

- Your parents never told you you shouldn’t stare ? He grinned.

- I wouldn’t stare if the view wasn’t worthy, you said innocently.

- You say it as if you weren’t a fucking art piece yourself, he scoffed.

- Right, you chortled.

- I mean it, he replied with a smile as he joined you in bed and pulled you to him. You are stunning. I love you in my hoodies.

- I do love wearing them, you admitted.

He smiled and kissed your temple before turning the lights off and pulling you to him once again, absolutely refusing for there to be any distance between your bodies.

- Thanks for tonight, you whispered as you buried your face in his neck. I missed having you all to myself.

- I’m sorry I got caught up in work and football, he said. I’ll do better. I didn’t realize you were so pissed.

- Ok, you said softly. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be all dramatic when I left. I was just annoyed. But tonight made it better.

- I’m glad, he replied with a smile you could hear. I’m sorry.

- Stop apologizing, you giggled. I’ve already forgiven you.

- Yeah. Sorr-

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as you turned and kissed him so that he’d shut up. You could feel his lips twitching into a grin as he kissed you back. What started as a soft peck quickly turned into a hot and steamy make out session and it didn’t take long for Marshall’s hands to wander under his hoodie, stroking the warm skin in your back. You were straddling him and you could feel his bulge against your clad pussy (though the fabric definitely wasn’t too thick). You started to grind slowly, earning a groan and a sigh of pleasure. He gently bit your lower lip and you ground a little harder against his hardness. He was quick to remove both your (his) hoodie and your tank top, his hands finding their way to your front, cupping your breasts, gently teasing your nipples. He sat up, firmly keeping you in place, so that he was able to suck on your tit, making you whimper as you kept dry humping him.

- Need you, you whispered breathily.

A couple of seconds later, your shorts and his boxers were on the floor and you were lowering yourself onto him, feeling your pussy stretching, adjusting to his size. It stung a bit, in spite of your evident arousal. You let out a throaty moan as you took all of him and he gave you a satisfied grunt. You started moving your hips slowly, enjoying each and every sensation, the friction directly stimulating your swollen clit. Marshall’s hips moved in sync with yours, setting a gentle pace that allowed the two of you to enjoy the connection. He placed a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a deep kiss that was worth a thousand words, while he grabbed a handful of your ass with his free hand. You were chest to chest, lips connected and you moved your hips, attempting to quicken the pace, but he refused to collaborate, opting for slower motions. His thrusts were deliberately unhurried, but you could feel him deep inside you, almost gasping each time he hit your cervix. You could swear you felt him in your whole abdomen. You moaned into the kisses, enjoying the pleasurable pain of feeling him so well, appreciating the fix of your favorite drug : him. You were in ecstasy, wrapped in each other’s embrace, both of your whimpers filling the room. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and made you roll on the mattress so that he’d be on top, shifting you to a missionary position that allowed him to stare at you, even in the obscurity. You couldn’t see much of the room around you, but you managed to gaze into each other’s eyes, almost connecting to each other’s soul. You cupped his cheek and placed kisses on his jaw as he finally quickened his pace, closing his eyes as he did so. You wrapped your legs around his waist, as if to make sure he wouldn’t stop, and you felt your thighs clench around him as the both of you came at the same time. A second later, your man nearly collapsed on top of you.

- I love you, you whispered as you ran your fingers through his hair.

- I love you too, he said emotionally. More than anything.

- More than football ? You giggled.

- More than football, he chuckled.

You closed your eyes and you held each other as the both of you drifted to sleep without bothering to change position.

[entertainmentgirl80]

Rainy Dayz With The Cowboy. 🤠🌧⛈️

Warnings: Little angst, Tyler Being Tyler, and just some FLUFF.

It's another hot day in Oklahoma. The glass is greener, while the wind is breezing in the air, and the people enjoy themselves during the summertime. So, while you are on vacation to work on some research on climate change, especially how storms have gotten more extreme for the last few years during hurricane & tornado season. However, storm chasing is not really your thing cause of due to your anxiety of storms during your childhood till all the way through your adulthood later on, so while you in Oklahoma, spending time for yourself. This one man caught your attention, and your heart too was YouTuber sensation, aka Tornado Wrangler, Mr. Tyler Owens. At first, he was out of your league because of his cocky but arrogant attitude cause how he came off when you first met him. However, soon after , day after day, as soon as you get to know him more, he is just the most humble but sweet guy you ever met on earth. So, later on that evening, it's was raining and storming outside where the two of you stayed in at a hotel together.

"Hey there, pretty lady, got us some pizza & drinks." Tyler came in from the rain.

"Oh cool, that what up, because I am starving like Marvin." You chuckled.

And, so after y'all two ate some dinner this evening, y'all are chilling and having a conversation about almost everything from y'all childhoods to y'all families .

"I'm surprised that you have a PhD. degree on meteorology, I thought you just a dumb youtuber who cares about clout & the views." She furrowed her eyebrow and being sarcastic .

"Darlin', I'm not that dumb. Besides, it's just my facade I have to put on for the camera." He have a wicked grin towards you that make you blush.

Then....a thunderstorm cracked out of nowhere loud as hell, and you got scared quickly, so you run into the bathroom, and Tyler was concerned, so, he follow behind to comfort you and make sure nothing bad happened to you. Having someone who understands bout being scared and have to face their fears dealing with severe weather phenomena, especially in Oklahoma, is a good thing because Tyler is that type of guy not only be around with but he been around tornadoes and severe storms before with his crew.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry, I just don't like storms." You were embarrassed, but your face was still blushed that Tyler was holding you.

"Sweetheart, there is nothing to be sorry for, is alright to be scared, and you know I'm always be here and I not going to let anything happen to you." He gives you a genuine but sweet smile and a kiss on your forehead.

A/N: Well, this is my first Tyler Owens fanfiction that I'm did write, and yes, I did saw Twisters as well, so anywho, I did the best I'm could, and hope y'all like it. 🤠🌪

[ckret2]

Ages ago I made a post about what Ford thinks about Bill (in a billford context), and I've had an infodump on what Bill thinks about Ford floating on discord for months, and an ask finally prompted me to post it, so here ya go:

If asked why he likes Ford, Bill himself claims that Ford overthinks everything, but in such fun, interesting ways, and Bill likes the way Ford thinks about things.

But really, Bill overthinks everything too; it's just he overthinks social things. He's always calculating how to persuade, control, manipulate people. He never has a conversation that isn't a chess game, it's exhausting and he won't even admit it's exhausting. When's the last time his top priorities weren't either "how do I convince some sucker to make a portal" or "ugggh I'm so SICK of the PORTAL I'm gonna THROW A PARTY and NOT THINK AT ALL"

Whereas Ford is guy who'd hear someone say something incorrect and bluntly go "no you're wrong" and accidentally offend the hell out of them because he's SO excited to share this fantastic information they don't know. The social world DOES NOT EXIST for him until he's reminded of it.

And so he's free to turn all his brainpower instead to. Like. The environmental impact of barf fairies on fern fertilizer or whatever.

Bill knows Everything™ but he's gotten tired of doing anything with that knowledge. They're all discrete points of information to him. He doesn't have time to muse over things, he's got an inventor to manipulate at 11pm and then a party to get to at midnight. He's never once in his life thought about the impact of barf fairies on the local flora. But he does happen to know the plants in that part of the woods are more acid-resistant and wow is that why???? He's never even thought to think about that before. Thousand year mystery that Bill didn't even notice has been solved.

(On the other hand "Ford doesn't think to think about the intricacies of social interaction" is also part of what makes him so easy to manipulate, he's so much more inclined to just accept at face value a friendly offer of assistance on a big academic project. Sure Bill's helping for the sake of scientific advancement in and of itself, why wouldn't he?)

Bill wants to just, fling random facts at Ford and see if he can think up connections between them. Go nerd boy go nerd boy go

"... So there you have it Ford, that's the problem you'll have to overcome with adapting alien machinery to human fuel sources, now I wanna hear YOUR thoughts on how to overcome that problem." "Well—" talks in an uninterrupted stream that by thirty minutes in has drifted over to the history of kerosene production, which he read an interesting book about between semesters in college— "... I've gotten off topic, haven't I?" "No no, I think you're on to something. This is how brainstorming works, free association of concepts. Keep going."

Ford in the morning: "... oh no I didn't let my muse get a word in edgewise for the rest of the dream, i didn't bore him did I?" Bill: "damn, I never noticed the patent process for hurricane lamps was so contentious. There's little dramas everywhere"

When things are going well, their relationship is,

Ford: "I just wanna hear Bill teach me things about the multiverse forever."

Bill: "I just wanna hear Ford think deeply on any topic that crosses his mind forever."

Both of them when they're in peak harmony: excitedly jabbering at each other at 200 words per minute about the stupidest topic you've ever heard, but you'd need a phd in at least two fields to comprehend it

That's love!!!

Ford, having historically been socially shamed: "... am I being weird?"

Bill: "💕❤️💓yeah❣️💖❤️‍🔥"

Sometimes I think about Bill watching Ford in his sleep and being in awe at this human-shaped genius: you with your beautiful electric mind, packed into this soft flawed uneven body. one would never know it from the outside—but you're in there. This genius with a mind like a galaxy. ... and he's like, growing hair and stuff. wild.

[starhotchgf]

Boss Bitch

Where Y/N has gone more than a year without making fun of the guys she dated, but Aaron finds a way around his employee's situation.

warnings: overstimulation, squirting, period mentions, rough sex, pet names, mature content.

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes.

Working at the BAU was something she had dreamed of since she was just a child and at the same time something that had come true before she could have imagined, making her a young agent, just like Spencer was, even though you were still older than the genius with more PHDs than a normal human being could imagine. She had been there for a little over two years, working with something she liked and making friends she could never have imagined before.

Emily, JJ and Penelope were her best friends, whether it was to comfort her when she had a bad day or got scolded by Hotch or also to have girls' nights and get a little drunk while talking unfiltered in Garcia's office. That wasn't the case at the moment, since they weren't in the living room of any of the girls there, but in the unit's break room. The last case had been solved in two days and with all the reports finished there was no harm in taking a few minutes to gossip and update each other on the group's latest encounters with some guys.

“He was extremely attractive and for a few minutes I thought he might be different from the other guys I’ve dated and would be able to give me at least a little pleasure, which clearly didn’t happen and so I ended up frustrated in my bed for another night. I think the lack of orgasms has been making me more stressed than my period.” You sighed, taking a sip from your cup of coffee. “Why is it that the men I date are so bad in bed?”

“Are you telling me that in the last few weeks you haven’t had an orgasm?” Garcia asked, looking shocked by that revelation that none of her friends expected. “It’s only been weeks, right?”

“Actually I don’t think I’ve cum in a year and a few days, it’s like I never get out of that pre-cum haze and the men I’ve dated definitely didn’t even help me get there.” You confessed, laughing weakly when you saw the shocked looks on the women’s faces. “I’m a difficult person in these aspects.”

“I don’t know how you’re putting up with this. I swear that if I went more than two days without cumming, I’d go completely crazy and pull my own hair out.” JJ said, gesturing exaggeratedly with her hands. “Not even by yourself?”

Your shake of the head made the blonde’s eyes widen, taking another big sip from the cup of coffee she had in her hands. You could be sure that they had consumed more coffee in those few minutes of conversation than they would have consumed during the entire work week at the agency.

The conversation continued for the next few minutes, being bathed in tips that they would never have heard anywhere else and without any filter as it was spoken in that small room. What no one expected was that Aaron was listening to the obscene story that you told with frustration. Something grew inside him and the man knew exactly what he should do. Something that had been kept for much longer than could be put into words.

…

“Hey Y/N, wait a minute, I need to talk to you.” Your boss’s voice made you stop in your tracks. You didn’t need to look at your friends to know what they looked like at that moment. You just felt someone patting you on the shoulder before the women walked away completely, leaving the office along with Derek, Spencer, Luke, and Rossi. “Do you have something to do? I don’t want to keep you here if you have a more important commitment.”

“I have nothing to do, Hotch. I can stay as long as you need me to.” You looked into the older man’s eyes, ignoring the shock that ran down your spine in an electrifying way, almost causing a small spasm in your limbs. “Is it something about the case?”

“Just call me Aaron, honey. We don’t need formalities when it’s just the two of us.” The man laughed, leaning against his desk in a relaxed manner. You never imagined that the older man could become even more attractive with a small gesture and a mere affectionate nickname. You had never heard that masculine and soft tone in his voice. “I want to invite you, Y/N. Would you like to have some wine with me at my place? Jack went to a school camp, just you, me, wine and a probably bad movie that might be playing at this time.”

Her gaze rose until she met her boss again, feeling the same shiver as before, but in a different way, because looking into his eyes, she found desire, not just any desire, the perversion of that invitation that the man made with such a calm and soft tone of voice was palpable. If she wasn’t a profiler, she wouldn’t notice the lust hidden behind those good intentions.

“That would be great, Aaron.” She smiled, with that same perverse desire behind the innocent look she directed at the taller man. Maybe this was the chance to get out of that exhausting and frustrating fog she was in.

“It will be great to have you at my house, dear.”

…

The wine glasses were on the coffee table, the bottle in the middle of both, already half full at that point in the night. Small laughs came from their lips as they listened to yet another story about the older man's youth; they barely paid attention to the movie playing on television, too entertained with each other. Aaron already had a few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, the same piece that was unbuttoned from his pants, lifted in a way that showed only a small part of the 'V' line of his abdomen. There was no denying how attractive that man was, the years between you and him were what made your chest race and your breath pant the most.

Your own jacket was already off your body, the tight, long-sleeved blouse you were wearing highlighted your curves, just as that low-cut top made your breasts even more beautiful and appetizing in the eyes of your boss. The tight pants you were wearing that night left your thighs tight and spread across the sofa upholstery. Your long hair fell to your shoulders, covering part of your breasts visible through the tight neckline you were wearing.

“Is everything okay, honey? You suddenly went silent,” the man said, her gaze rising to meet his. She was sure her face was red at that point, and the provocative tone in the man’s voice didn’t help with the embarrassment. “Don’t worry, I can’t take my eyes off you either. Ever since you arrived at the BAU, with that curious and scared look, you looked like a lost little puppy.” He spoke softly, using one of his hands to brush her hair away from her cleavage. “But hearing you talk about how sexually frustrated you’ve been in the last few months gave me the courage to bring you here. I want to show you what should be done to a girl like you, honey. You deserve so much more than inexperienced brats who don’t know how to take care of that needy little thing that you are.”

“A-Aron,” she stammered, feeling her face heat up even more, her lips parting in a sigh as she felt his large hand wrap around her neck, only creating an attractive pressure in the place. “Did you hear that?”

“I heard everything, baby, every detail of how bad they’ve been, not getting you out of this horrible fog you’re stuck in, but in a way I thank them, if it weren’t for their terrible performance, I wouldn’t have the chance to be here. Now be a good girl and come to my lap,” Hotchner whispered, taking his hand off your neck so he could slap one of his thighs, indicating where you should sit. “But first take off your pants, just keep that pretty blouse and panties on, honey, I want to see how pretty my girl is.” It was almost humiliating how quickly you obeyed him, getting up from the couch, taking off your boots and socks to finally remove your tight jeans, revealing the light lace panties you were wearing to cover your already wet intimacy. You didn’t need to move, the man was quick to pull you to straddle one of his thighs, the surprise friction made you moan softly at the contact, that was music to the older man’s ears. “I’m not just going to take you once tonight, darling, I’m going to make up for all those frustrating months you’ve been through. I’m going to make you cum until you pass out in my arms from exhaustion, until you’re left speechless from screaming my name every single time. Do you hear me?” You nodded, shaking your head frantically as you felt your juices getting even wetter on his dress pants, further increasing the dark stain that was appearing on the fabric. “So fuck yourself on my thigh, I want to see your pretty face as you feel pleasure, like the needy, delicious little thing that you are, does that sound good to you? Answer me with words, I want to hear your voice.”

“O-Okay.”

The man smiled at her tone of voice, holding her hips to make her move against his thigh, making her moan loudly and grab his shoulders, squeezing his skin over the button-down shirt he was still wearing. The friction of the fabric of her panties and his pants against her pussy was making her eyes not stay open for long, the pleasure of just doing that was devastating for her little body, which had been so long without feeling anything like that.

“You look so fucked up just riding my thigh, baby, moving that wet pussy and making a mess in daddy’s pants, don’t you?” Aaron smirked, holding her jaw with one hand, the other kept moving her hips, increasing the friction of her pussy on his leg. “I’m going to fuck you until you forget all the times you went out with a man, you’re going to cum until I decide I’ve had enough.”

“Daddy.” Another moan escaped your lips, your mouth remaining open long enough for a trickle of saliva to run down your chin and drip onto the same spot where your juices were, increasing the wet mess on the man’s pants. “I-I want to cum, please.”

“But I’m not stopping you, darling. Why are you begging?” The man looked at you with a smile on his face, surprised to realize that all you needed was a command. Aaron enjoyed listening to you moaning, trembling on his lap as if you were going to faint at any moment. “Do you need me to tell you? That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He brought one of his hands to your hair, pulling it roughly so that you could look into his eyes. The darkness of desire was much clearer than any light. “You can come, pretty girl. Come for me.”

It only took those words for you to come on his lap, cumming until your eyes rolled back and your body spasmed constantly. Your cum came out in an impressive amount from your pussy, wetting the man's pants even more. Aaron held your body against his chest, running his hand through your hair until you stopped shaking.

“Fuck,” you gasped, looking up to meet the man's eyes, still dark with desire. Aaron smiled sideways, pushing your still weak body so that you lay down on the couch. The man was taller than you, considerable and attractive inches, he hovered over you, moving his hands until they found the soaked fabric of your panties. “Aaron, please,” you whimpered, closing your legs until the man's hand was trapped between them.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs wide for me, okay?” he said, his lips so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath hitting your face. It didn't take much for you to open your legs for him, moaning sensitively as you felt the fabric being pushed aside and the man's fingers moving against your lips, the wet noise seemed to echo through the silent room. "So wet, my love," you whispered, bringing your sticky fingers to your own lips, licking your cum until your digits were clean.

You couldn't hold back when you grabbed the back of the man's neck and pulled him until your lips were glued to each other, delighting in your own cum that was in his mouth. Aaron held your waist, pressing your body into the soft upholstery of the sofa, one of his hands returned to between your legs, two fingers were enough to make you almost scream against the older man's lips. He thrust them in roughly, your eyes rolling back as you felt each movement of his long, thick fingers fucking your pussy as if they were his cock. The wet noise was the only thing to be heard besides your moans during the kiss.

“You squeeze my fingers so well, darling, showing how much you want to cum again, even though you can barely keep those fucking legs straight.” He laughed sensually, breaking the kiss with his hand on her neck, squeezing until her mind was spinning a little, the amount of oxygen reduced until she was panting between moans and small screams, which increased as her second orgasm arrived.

“AARON” Your scream reverberated through those walls, when once again you reached your peak, cumming hard on the man’s fingers, until your vision went white and thick tears ran down your eyes, further increasing the wet mess that was already dripping on the couch.

Your mind was blank at that moment, but your pussy still contracted in anxiety when the man removed his fingers, hearing the soggy noise that echoed through the room, that caused a sideways smile on your lips. Aaron caressed your neck, running his other hand over your bust, taking advantage of the moment to take off the blouse you were wearing, revealing the lacy bra that held your full breasts. You looked at him with teary eyes, your face red from the tears and the effort of the orgasms that took over your body in a few minutes of rest between them.

“Even after cumming twice, are you still eager for more, dear? You are a needy little thing who deserves to be taken care of properly, to cum until your brain stops working properly and you can't say a single word completely." He said smiling, squeezing one of your breasts with the hand that ran over your abdomen. Your body was sitting on the couch, the man on his knees between your legs, using both hands to slide your panties down your legs, leaving a trail of his cum on your skin, the underwear made a wet sound as it was thrown to the floor, your bra followed suit seconds later. You were completely naked in front of the older man. "I'm going to taste you and take you in my mouth, then I'm going to fuck you with my cock until you have no more voice from screaming so much." Your cry of surprise was clear and loud when the man connected his lips with your sensitive and soaked pussy, your hands automatically flew to his dark hair, pulling and moving in a confused way. Your eyes rolled back, your head falling against the back of the furniture, everything seemed to spin around you. She felt her intimacy tightening against the older man's tongue, which went in and out, licking bundles between her lips, taking everything that was left of her previous orgasms, while a new one formed at the base of her belly.

Her thighs opened and closed, until his large hands held her open, squeezing the flesh until the red marks of his fingers were there. New tears were already running down her eyes, wetting her red and hot cheeks, her hand clenched in the strands of the man's hair, the other digging her nails into the upholstery of the sofa, her brain not working properly, her vision with white spots as another wave of cum burned in her pussy. Aaron smiled against her lips, using his fingers to press her clitoris when her orgasm finally hit her body for the third time, sobs leaving her lips as she felt the man's mouth continue sucking her intimacy, enjoying every new drop of her liquid. Confused and pleasurable screams came from his lips, repeating the older man's name constantly, his legs trembling when the fourth orgasm came a few seconds later, his eyes rolled back and saliva dripped from his open mouth, dripping onto his neck and running down to his breasts.

"You taste perfect, honey." The taller man smiled, his lips dirty from his cum as he stood up. He ran two fingers over his lips, cleaning them and bringing them to his mouth, which automatically opened to receive the man's long digits. He closed his eyes as he felt his own taste. He sucked his boss's fingers until they were completely clean, running his tongue over them as if he were sucking his cock. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name, Y/N."

A confused smile appeared on her lips, but her legs opened again, as if they were an invitation to the man, who laughed and landed a weak slap on his face, making she open her eyes and moan from the small fright. Aaron was amused by her expression of pleasure and exhaustion, all that frustration and knot in her eyebrows had fallen with each of her orgasms.

“Let’s go to my bed.”

Your body was carried to the man's room, your legs entwined around his waist and your head resting gently on his shoulder. Your eyes opened when you felt the soft mattress hit your back, you sighed and looked around, too confused to care about anything other than the older man. Aaron unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it on the floor, his pants and underwear followed suit soon after, you smiled sideways, admiring your boss's body, your gaze falling on the large, thick, erect cock that rested on his defined abdomen.

The older man walked to the bed, kneeling on the mattress as he stood between your legs, which automatically wrapped around his waist. His erection rubbed against your pussy, which was once again wet, leaving a small stain on the light sheet. Your eyes met, your hands holding his broad shoulders, your nails weakly biting the light skin.

"Fuck me, Daddy," you begged, your lips parting in a low moan as you felt the thick phallus forcing against your wet hole. Aaron entered slowly, enjoying the anxious and tearful expression that his face took on, her eyes closing and opening until he finally took the older man's entire cock, his nails scratching the skin of his shoulder harder. The man moaned hoarsely, bringing one of his hands until it was pressed against the base of his belly, the burning was pleasurable, forming tears in her eyes. "O-Oh yes, please, that feels so good."

"Please what, honey?" He asked, still not moving, his hand pressing harder on her belly, causing a loud moan and a new scratch, this time on his back. "Use your words."

"Move, please, I need you." She cried, biting her lips at the extreme pleasure that returned to her body again.

Aaron began to thrust inside her, hitting spots that made her crying increase, sobs mixing with the moans and prayers that took over her lips. The older man's hand was squeezing your abdomen, moans that also came out of your lips every time you pressed his cock inside you.

He moved his hand down to play with your clitoris, pressing two fingers against your mound of nerves, causing confused screams and saliva to run down your open lips, increasing the wet mess on your cheeks. The man smiled with a moan, moving his hand down to your pussy that received his cock so well, your eyes opened in surprise when you felt two fingers forcing their way in along with the man's penis.

Your body writhed on the sheet, your nails scratching more red lines on your back, your crying increasing with that strange sensation that formed at the bottom of your belly. The man's fingers curled inside you, at the same time that his cock entered and left you forcefully, making you even wetter than you already were. Your eyes closed, your lips remained open in frequent moans, your hands flying to the sheet, squeezing the fabric and pulling it tightly.

“AARON” She screamed, feeling her vision go white with that hot sensation in his belly. It only took one thrust for her to be spurting on his cock, a squirt of cum staining the man’s abdomen and increasing the mess on the sheets. She felt the older man cumming inside her, increasing the wet mess that her pussy had become. She closed her eyes tightly, breathing heavily and the tears that continued to fall from his eyes.

Aaron left you with a soaked sound, watching his cum drip from inside your pussy. You were a mess on the sheets, your eyes closed, your face wet with sweat, saliva and tears, your hair sticking to your forehead, your breathing labored and your chest rising and falling.

The man left the bed seconds later looking for clean sheets and a wet towel, which he used to clean your body and his own abdomen. Your eyes were still closed, your breathing calmer and no more tears running from your eyes. Aaron was careful when changing the bed cover, not making it lift at any point, he threw the dirty fabric on the floor and left the room, getting a glass of water from the kitchen before returning to bed.

“Honey, I need you to drink this, you need to hydrate.” He spoke softly, stroking her hair affectionately, her eyes opened tiredly, an exhausted groan leaving her lips “Come on, drink a little and then go to the bathroom, then we can sleep”

“I’m tired” She murmured, her voice hoarse and low. Aaron held the glass until she finished drinking, smiling proudly when he saw the empty glass. The man left a kiss on her forehead, leaving the glass on top of the dresser next to the bed. “Can you carry me?”

“Of course I can, my pretty girl” He laughed weakly, running his hands over your body until you were in his lap, on the way to the bathroom.

They went back to bed after a few minutes, you fell into a deep sleep the moment you laid your head on the man’s chest, with his large hands roaming your hair and waist.

“You’re adorable, Y/N”

[orchidniins]

Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 1 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N moves to London to pursue her dreams and reconnect with her best friend But what she doesn't expect is a cute neighbor and a new exciting chapter of her life. Pairings: ArthurTV x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 6.4k A/N: FIRST FIC!!!!!! I’m so down bad for Arthur and just wish there was more on tumblr about this literal walking green flag of a man. I wanted this to be a cute little fic. But I feel like I got a little carried away with the story. But I also think that I need to start somewhere. Maybe the next fics I write after this will be a little more to the point. The more I write, the better I’ll get. I'm always open to suggestions and requests. Hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist ⟡ Part 2

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The bustling streets of London welcome you as you step out of the taxi. Having grown up in a small town just outside of London, you’d always fantasized about what life in the big city was like. Sure, your past academic pursuits had given you the opportunity to live all across the world, but London was always the ultimate destination - the place you dreamed of settling down in.

Securing a spot in the archeology PHD program of your dreams was the culmination of years of hardwork and determination. Those late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled cramming marathons and years spent away from home were finally paying off. It marked the beginning of an exciting new chapter.

Like clockwork, Sienna bursts out of the main entrance of the building and engulfs you in a bone-crushing hug.

Sienna and you went way back. From the eager little girl who lived next door to becoming your closest confidante, she’d been through everything with you. Despite the miles between you over the years – ever since you left for the States to pursue your bachelor's degree and she moved to London for her’s – she remained one of the few constants in your life.

Your day wasn’t complete without a minimum three-hour facetime session. So naturally, after your family, she was the first person you informed of your move. True to form, she’d already cleaned out her spare bedroom and sent you a photo of the door adorned with a makeshift sign that read "Y/N’s Bedroom." It was safe to say that you were excited to reconnect with your childhood best friend and focus on your work. Little did you know, your life was about to take an unexpected turn.

“I can’t believe you're finally here!”, Sienna exclaimed, finally letting you out of her embrace. “I can’t believe it either! I’d started to believe that you only existed on my phone screen”, you replied, pulling her into another hug, which she gladly returned.

“Come on now, we have much to catch up on”, pulling out of the embrace, Sienna grabs one of your oversized suitcases and starts lugging it into the building, you follow closely with a huge grin on your face.

As you entered the apartment, you couldn't help but admire the cozy atmosphere. Sienna always had an eclectic taste, much like yours. She was a bit of a collector and she always made sure to keep and display the souvenirs you sent her from all the museums and dig sites that you had visited and worked at.

You look to the side of the living room that was littered with boxes, “All your stuff got here a few days ago”, Sienna informs you as she shuts the door behind her.

“There should be one or two boxes coming in today that I shipped out a little later”, I mentioned, Sienna nods in understanding. “While we’re on the topic of shipping boxes, have you had a chance to send that cretin’s stuff back to him?” you ask her as you kick off your shoes and take your coat off.

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about Joey,” Sienna groaned. “He said he’d come by to pick his stuff up later, so I’ve just left a box by the door”, she added, plopping down on the couch and signaling for you to join her. ”But what I really want to know is, how’s your love life? What happened to that guy you were talking to last month? The one from your internship?”, she asks, a curious glint in her eyes.

“Hmmm, yeah, things didn’t work out”, you drawled out. “He was really nice when it was just the two of us, and he wasn’t too bad in bed either, but once we were at our work, things got weird. He’d treat me completely different. Honestly he was a real prick," you explained, throwing an arm around her. "No more guys for me. I guess it’s just you and me, babe," you sighed, earning a laugh from her.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

The next hour or two passed in unpacking and catching up when you received a notification on your phone saying a package had been dropped off at the downstairs lobby. "The rest of my stuff just got delivered. I’m heading downstairs," you announced to Sienna, who had just ventured into the kitchen to get dinner started.

You spot the box as soon as you exit the elevator. You sign for the package at the front desk and pick up the heavy box. Perhaps thinking you could manage a nearly 40kg box full of books by yourself wasn’t the best idea after all.

Lost in the effort of balancing the hefty box, you were completely oblivious to your surroundings. As soon as you turn to head towards the elevator, you feel yourself colliding with what felt like someone's side, causing you to stumble back a step. The impact was enough to make you wince, but that was the least of your worries.

With a dreadful realization, you watch in horror as the bottom of the box gives way, sending a cascade of books tumbling onto the stranger's feet.

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” you begin to profusely apologize to the man in front of you who is now bent over, clutching his ankle. Quickly chucking the box to the side, you kneel down to inspect his foot. ”Please tell me you’re okay. I’m so sorry. I should have been paying attention,” you continue your string of apologies, hoping that the man wasn’t hurt too badly.

The man winces slightly as you examine his foot, but instantly looks down at you with a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm okay, really," he tries to assure you, trying to alleviate your guilt. His smile catches you off guard, you stay frozen for a second, momentarily captivated by his warm smile and almost sparkling brown eyes. However, you quickly shake yourself out of it, realizing that this might not be the best time.

"Liar," you retorted with a hint of skepticism, knowing very well that anyone in their right mind would have cursed you out by now.

The man furrows his eyebrows and lets out a light chuckle. "No, really, I'm okay," he insists, standing up straight to show you that he was fine. You couldn't help but exhale a sigh of relief as you fully stood up as well, grateful that your clumsiness hadn't caused any serious harm.

With a slight laugh, the man gestures towards the pile of books on the ground. "Either you have a shopping problem or you just moved in," he remarks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You laugh in response, shaking your head. "I do have a shopping problem, but this is from just having moved in. My fault for thinking I'd be able to manage," you admit sheepishly.

You bend down to reach for the box to put it back together. You're surprised when the man gets down to your level and starts helping you out.

Mumbling a small thanks, you both begin placing the books back into the reassembled box. As you do this, you take a moment to observe his face. He looks to be around your age, with messy brown hair, and honestly, he was kind of cute.

The man picks up a book titled "A History of Archaeological Thought" and reads the title out in interest, quickly flipping through the pages. “I've actually read this one," he remarks, holding up one of your books on ancient roman archeology "Found it quite interesting."

You look at him slightly surprised and say, "Oh, you have? One of my professors from uni recommended it to me. It's really fascinating."

"These are all archaeology and history textbooks," he observes, gesturing to the pile of books.

You put the last book in the box and stand up along with him, laughing slightly. "Haha, yes, some of them are old textbooks from university. The rest are just stuff I've collected over the years."

He looks at you in awe and exclaims, "You're an archaeologist? That's so cool! I've never met an archaeologist before." The sparkle in his eyes returns, and you almost feel yourself slightly melt at the sight of them. You find yourself flashing him a wide smile. There's something about the genuine curiosity and admiration in his gaze that warms your heart.

Before you can say something, your phone rings. Excusing yourself for a moment, you check your phone and see that Sienna is calling, likely worried by how long it's taken you to pick up a delivery. "Sorry, just a minute," you say to the man, turning to the side to answer your cell. He nods in understanding.

"Hey, Sienna," you answer.

"Girl, what happened? Where are you?" Sienna's voice comes through, concerned.

"Long story, but I'll be up in a minute," you assure her.

"Please, come quick. Joey just texted me; he said he'll be here in like 5 minutes to pick up his stuff and I really don't want to be alone when he gets here," Sienna explains anxiously.

"Ok, yeah, I’ll be right up" you respond, sensing the urgency in her voice.

You hang up the call, tucking your phone quickly into your back pocket, you turn back to the handsome stranger. "Sorry about that, but I actually need to go," you apologize, feeling a twinge of disappointment that your conversation was just cut short.

"Ha, don't worry about it," he reassures you with a warm smile.

You apologize again for his foot and thank him for the help. As you go to bend down to pick up the box, he beats you to it, lifting it effortlessly. "Oh, you don't have to," you insist, but he shakes his head with a small laugh.

"Don't want to risk you possibly injuring someone else," he quips playfully.

You look at him with mock hurt and reply, "Rude!" before bursting into laughter, appreciating his kindness despite what had just happened.

As he begins to walk towards the elevator, you follow suit. You suddenly realize just how warm your cheeks had gotten and you quickly fan your face to cool down before you enter the elevator. Once inside, you press the button for your floor and glance around awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. The tension is palpable, but there's also a subtle excitement lingering in the air.

Arriving at your floor, you lead the way to your new flat, with him following without hesitation. Standing outside your door, you turn to him and say, "Well, this is me. Thanks again, you really didn't have to."

He responds with a gentle smile, "Again, it wasn't a bother. I'm glad to help." He sets the box down next to your door.

You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next when it suddenly dawns on you that you didn’t know the man’s name. Just as you’re about to introduce yourself, your attention is abruptly pulled away by the sound of your name being called from a distance.

"Y/N!" You spot Sienna's nightmare of an ex strolling towards your door, and you know that if you don't go inside right away, Sienna would probably kill you.

Quickly moving to unlock your door, you turn around to the attractive man and flash him a final smile. "Well, I appreciate the help. I'll see you around," you say hastily.

"Goodbye," He replies with a nod, understanding the urgency in your departure.

With that, you pick up the box and swiftly slip into your door, the sound of it shutting behind you signaling the end of your unexpected encounter.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

A week had passed since your fateful encounter with your charming neighbor, yet his presence continued lingering in your mind, a constant reminder of your missed opportunity to exchange names. Mentally scolding yourself for the oversight, you couldn't help but replay the encounter in your head repeatedly, wishing you had seized the chance to learn more about him.

The past week kept you fairly busy, preparing for the start of term on Monday. Despite that, the thoughts of him persisted more than you'd like to admit. Each time you stepped into the elevator or the lobby of your apartment, you secretly hoped for another chance meeting. Though you were someone who always tried to look presentable when stepping out, you found yourself putting in extra effort, something that didn’t go unnoticed by your flatmate.

"This usually isn't like you. Hoping to run into someone?" Sienna teases you with a knowing smirk as you prepare for the day ahead. With an interview for a teaching assistant position in the morning, lunch plans with your future classmates and some pending errands, today was shaping up to be quite hectic.

"You know," you explain to Sienna, "I just need to meet a bunch of people today, trying to make a good first impression that's all." Sienna's excitement bubbles as she responds, "Speaking of meeting new people, we're going to a party tonight!"

Usually, you were pretty social, but with all the tasks on your list today, the only thing getting you through the day is the thought of getting home and sinking into your bed. "I have quite a long day ahead, and all I want is to rest once I'm back," you confess to Sienna. But she's the persistent type that doesn’t take no for an answer, "You're in London now. New place. New life. You need to make some new friends as well," she insists. "Come on, it'll be fun. You can meet some of my friends."

"Fine, I'll see if I'm feeling up to it once I'm back in the evening," you reluctantly agree and bid her goodbye. “Good luck on your interview!” Sienna screams as you head out the door.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

You return home to a dimly lit flat, only illuminated by the lamp next to the couch and the light emanating from Sienna’s room. You feel a wave of relief as you kick off your shoes, finally able to give your feet a break after being on them all day. You attempt to move as quietly as possible, hoping to sneak past Sienna and retreat to your bedroom for some much-needed rest. However, it seems as though she possesses some sort of mind reading ability, as she calls out to you in a sing-songy tone, "Hey Y/N… Don't even think about sneaking off. Get in here."

You weakly protest, "But…" before Sienna shuts down any objections with a firm, "No buts. Get in here." Giving up, you toss your purse and the shopping bags onto the couch and reluctantly make your way into her room.

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, you offer a half-hearted, "You called?"

"Yes, get your cute butt in here and get ready. You can borrow one of my tops if you want," Sienna responds. Though you pout for a moment, Sienna's pointed glare leaves you with no room for argument. You finally agree, "Fine… I'll go put something on. I'll be right back." Sienna nods, continuing to put on her mascara.

Returning to your bedroom, you rummage through a box of clothes that you had yet to unpack. Finally settling on a pair of black wide-leg jeans, a black bralette, and a sheer black top to layer over it. Quickly changing, you grab your makeup bag and head back into Sienna's room.

"You look so hot! If I were a guy, I'd be all over you," she says with a wink. "I know right!" you playfully reply as you start to retouch your makeup beside her in the mirror.

As you apply a fresh coat of lipstick, you inquire, "Where is this party by the way?" Sienna responds, "Oh, it's right upstairs. It's a house party at my friend George’s place."

"Cool, but I don't want to stay too long. I actually feel like I'll drop dead any second after the long day I've had," you tell Sienna, hoping she'll understand your need for an early night, but you can't help but feel a twang of hope in your heart that you might run into the cute brown-eyed stranger there.

Sienna turns to you with a playful salute, saying, "Yes, ma'am. We'll just have a few drinks, mingle around. We won't be there long." Her words reassure you, and you offer her an appreciative smile as the two of you share a laugh.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

As you and Sienna stand outside of George's flat, you hear the sounds of laughter and music echo from inside. With an encouraging grin, Sienna grabs you by the arms and pushes open the door, pulling you into the flat.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the party. Despite your fatigue, a spark of excitement blooms within you; it's been a while since you've had the opportunity to drink a little and let loose.

Sienna's eyes scan the room. and an excited smile lights up her face as she spots someone. "George!", she calls out enthusiastically, waving to catch the attention of a brown haired man.

He gives Sienna a slightly intoxicated smile as he stumbles over to where the two of you stand. "Hi! You made it!," he greets her with a hug.

Sienna responds with a smile, saying, "Of course! Any excuse to get drunk," as she pulls away and turns slightly towards you. "George, this is my other half, Y/N," she introduces, prompting you to flash him a smile and lean in for a side hug, which he reciprocates.

"Hey, Y/N, how are you finding London so far?" George inquires, prompting you to reply, "Oh, it's been great, and it's a plus living with Sienna…"

"Well, let me introduce you to the rest of the gang and get you guys a drink. Come." He leads the two of you near the kitchen, where you see two men chatting with solo cups in hand. George gestures towards the drinks and encourages you to help yourselves, handing you each a cup as well.

You quickly fix yourself a drink and take a sip, the cold liquid adding some life back into you. You turn around to see Sienna and George now in a conversation with the two other guys. You grab your drink and head over to join them.

"Guys, this is Y/N," Sienna introduces you to the two men in front of you, slinging an arm around you in the process. "Y/N, this is Chris and this is Arthur," Sienna continues, "They live here too. We have another Arthur; he should be around here somewhere," George adds as he takes a look around the room.

Arthur extends his hand and says, "It's nice to finally meet you. Sienna doesn't shut up about you." Chris chimes in, "Yeah, we know everything… even the thing with the door." You look at him in shock and lightly laugh, replying, "Yeah....I am not drunk enough to get into the whole door story." you say taking a large swig of your drink, earning a laugh from the group.

30 minutes and many vodka shots later, you get to learn a little more about the boys. The conversation is flowing and filled with laughter. You find out that all of them are YouTubers and create content on the internet. George makes videos on YouTube and Tik-Tok, and Chris made football videos. Arthur, in particular, was a musician, which you spent a few good minutes remarking how cool that was.

After conversing a bit more, Sienna takes you around the room and introduces you to few more people. Some lived in the building and others were mutual friends that she had with George, Chris and Arthur.

You are chatting with a few girls when George joins the group, more shots in hand, "No more...I'm like another shot away from throwing up," you tell him.

"That's fine. I'll find someone to hold your hair back," he says with a chuckle, placing a shot glass in your hand and in the already drunk state you were in, you comply.

Even more shots later, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. George tells you to use the en-suite in his room and despite George's instructions, it takes you all but 5 seconds to forget in your intoxicated state.

You head in the general direction that he pointed you in and walk down the hall, stumbling into the first bedroom that you see. The room has a cozy and warm atmosphere. There is a filming set up on the desk in the corner, a bookshelf overflowing with books and a white piano placed against one of the walls. At first glance, you don't feel like the room fits the vibe that George had, but you brushed it off and made a beeline to the toilet.

You finish your business and step out of the restroom. As you exit, you hear the door of the balcony open wider, and at that moment it dawns on you that you might have unintentionally entered someone else's private space by mistake.

Without a second thought, you try to head straight out the door, hoping to completely avoid any interaction at all. But with the alcohol slowing down your reaction time, you're only able to take maybe four steps before you hear a man's voice, "Oh, hello."

In that moment, you just want to make a run for it, but instead, you turn around to face whoever's room this was. You're pleasantly surprised when you come face to face with a familiar warm smile.

"Hey", you reply with slight surprise in your tone, a smile creeping up on your face. His face lights up with a bright smile at the sight of the person that was occupying space in his mind for the past week.

"Hide everything heavy, else I might drop it on your foot," you say, your face scrunching at your embarrassing attempt to make this interaction less awkward. Your words earn you a laugh.

"Oh, sorry btw," you blurt out, pointing to the restroom door. "George said I could use the one in his room, but I got confused and ended up here. I know I probably should have checked to see if there was someone else here first. Haha, I don't always think too straight when I'm drunk, you know, especially because it's been almost 6 months since I drank last so, I'm usually not a lightweight, but I guess the large pause from drinking has kind of turned me into one." you word vomit in your drunken state.

You pause for a second to catch your breath, all while the man in front of you takes it all in with an amused smile on his face. "Oh shit, I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry for that," your words are accompanied with a slight stumble even while just standing, and the man quickly rushes to your side. "Woah there," he says, helping you regain balance. "Come sit down." He leads you and sits you down on the edge of his bed, taking a seat next to you.

"Oh! I'm Y/N, by the way. Sorry I didn't catch your name last time," you finally introduce yourself, hoping to clear the awkward air. He smiles warmly. "I'm Arthur," he says, his voice soft and friendly.

"So you're the fourth flatmate," you remark, trying to keep the conversation flowing smoothly.

"Yeah, that's me," Arthur confirms with a nod. "The elusive fourth flatmate," he adds with a chuckle. "I've been friends with the boys for a while, but I just moved in a a few weeks ago."

As Arthur talks about how he met each of his flatmates, you can't help but be drawn in by his charming and slightly goofy personality. You also didn't mind just staring at his handsome face for a while. You find yourself smiling at his easy demeanor, pleasantly surprised by how instantly at ease you started to feel around him as you two spoke, as if you'd known each other much longer than your short interactions.

You learn that Arthur is a YouTuber too, specializing in TV show commentary and reaction videos. You make a mental note to check out his channel, along with the others', when you manage to find the time.

He says, "You know, I totally felt like an idiot the other day for not getting your name." You chuckle softly, feeling a bit relieved that he brought it up first.

"Oh no, that was totally on me," you admit sheepishly, "I was in a bit of a hurry." you quickly recover, flashing him a warm smile. "But it's nice seeing you again," you say sincerely.

"Likewise," Arthur replies, a hint of relief in his voice. "I was hoping we'd run into each other again."

"Is your boyfriend here as well?" Arthur asks, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. For a moment, you almost feel like you misheard him. "I'm sorry, what?" you ask, taken aback. "Your boyfriend, the guy from the hall the other week, don't you live together?" he asks, with furrowed brows.

"Oh, no, he wasn't my boyfriend," you clarify, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I live with my friend Sienna. He's her ex; he was just coming over to pick up some of the stuff he left behind." You swear you see relief wash over Arthur's face.

"But where did you get that impression?" you ask, intrigued.

Arthur hesitates for a moment before answering, "Well, before he went into your flat, he said that his girlfriend lived there, tried to size me up, and then told me to stay away from your place."

You look at him in shock. "He did what!?" you exclaim, "Are you serious?", you say, making a mental note to strangle Joey if you were to ever see him again.

Arthur nods, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Yeah, I found the bloke a little dodgy. Weird character."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, now you know why he's her ex," you quip, shaking your head.

After a moment of silence, Arthur clears his throat, his tone slightly hesitant. "So, you're single?" he asks, his gaze meeting yours. You notice a hint of nervousness in his voice, and he quickly adds, "I-I don't mean to make you uncomfortable with that question…"

You offer him a reassuring smile. "No, no, it's okay," you reassure him, appreciating his concern. "Yes, I'm single," you confirm, feeling a sense of ease in his presence.

Arthur visibly relaxes, relieved by your response. "Good to know," he says with a small, sheepish grin. You can't help but find his reaction incredibly cute, and you let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, just focusing on finding my footing here in London," you explain, your tone light.

Arthur leans in with curiosity. "So, what brings you to London?" he asks, genuine interest gleaming in his eyes. You can't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest, surprised and pleased by the level of interest he's showing, unable to recall any guy you've talked to who has shown such genuine curiosity about your life.

You smile, feeling a sense of connection as you share a bit of your story. "Well, I'm actually starting my Ph.D. next week," you reveal. "It's been my dream program for as long as I can remember."

His eyebrows raise in intrigue. "Wow! a Ph.D.? That's impressive. In archeology?" he asks, his interest piqued. He laughs softly, and adds "I remember from the books you dropped on me."

You laugh, appreciating his recall. "Yes, that's the one," you confirm, feeling your heart melting at how attentive he was.

"Wow, archaeology sounds fascinating," Arthur remarks, leaning in with genuine interest, and you realize just how close he had gotten during this conversation. "How did you get into it?"

You smile, reminiscing about your journey. "Well, it's kind of because of my father," you begin, "He was a Greek history professor, and some of my youngest memories are of sitting in on his lectures when I was little and he has always been very supportive of me learning about other cultures and their histories."

Arthur's eyes light up with curiosity as he listens intently.

"So I just knew," you continue, "When it was time for uni, it just felt write to study archeology. Though I was studying in the States up until now, I traveled to various countries, exploring different archaeological sites." Arthur nods, captivated by your story.

And just like that, the conversation flows effortlessly between you, diving deeper into the world of archaeology and sharing your mutual fascination with the subject. You also ask him about his journey in becoming a youtuber and are extremely impressed by how he transitioned from being a lawyer to a content creator. With each new detail he shares, you find yourself being just a little more attracted to him.

As you continue on with your conversation, your attention is drawn away when you hear a knock on the open door of the room.

George peaks his head into the room, you get up and face him, realizing that you had completely forgotten that you even were at a party. Time had slipped away as you spoke with Arthur.

You check your phone, and were slightly shocked to see that almost 2 hours had passed by since you came stumbling into Arthur's room.

"Y/N, I was looking for you," George says, concern evident in his voice. "Sienna seems a bit out of it. I think you should take her home."

Immediately, you're on your feet, concern for your friend overriding any other thoughts. You follow George back into the living room, Arthur following closely behind. You see that the crowd had thinned out a bit but the music was still playing and there were still people chatting and drinking.

Sienna is sprawled out on the couch, her hair covering her face. You crouch down next to her, gently brushing her hair away. "Are you okay, babe?" you ask softly.

Sienna's eyes flutter open, and she springs up, throwing her arms around you. "Y/N! Where were you all night? I wanted to drink more with you!" she exclaims. Then, she turns to George and demands, "Get us more shots, George!"

George looks between the two of you and shakes his head with a smile. "Water it is," he says and heads to the kitchen to get some.

Sienna spots Arthur standing behind you. "Hey there," she says cheerfully. She'd always been the more social one between you two and absolutely loved meeting new people.

Arthur comes over and crouches next to you, introducing himself to her. "You must be Sienna. I'm Arthur, another one of George's flatmates," he says warmly. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" He asks, and you find yourself looking at Arthur with a smile, touched by how sweet he was being.

"You're the guy that Y/N almost decapitated last week," she teases, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, completely ignoring Arthur's questions. "Oh, you are cute!"

Sienna then glances at you, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "You were right, he is cute," she says, with a playful wink in your direction.

As Sienna's playful words sink in, you feel a blush creeping up on your face. Sienna always lost whatever little filter she had when she was drunk.

You catch Arthur glancing at you for a second, and you quickly avert your gaze, attempting to hide your flushing cheeks.

George returns with a bottle of water and hands it to you. You get Sienna to drink as much as she can.

"I should get her to bed then," you announce to the boys. Moving to pick her up, you find her weight causing you to stumble. Just as you're about to lose your balance, Arthur steps in to help, stabilizing both of you.

"I'll help get her back home," Arthur offers. You flash him an appreciative smile. Grateful for his assistance, you nod in agreement.

"It was great meeting you George," you say with a smile as he hands you Sienna's bag.

"It was great meeting you too," George replies warmly. "Take care yeah?", you nod in response.

With a final wave, you and Arthur begin to make your way out of the apartment, Sienna leaning on both of you for support.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

"Alright, Sienna, we're home," you say gently as you now stand in front of your door, slightly nudging her, waking her up, as she had managed to doze off while you were getting the door open. You carefully guide her through the door with Arthur's assistance.

"Her bedroom is just down the hall." You say to Arthur and he helps you get her to her room.

"Let's get you settled then," you say to Sienna as you lay her in her bed and take her heels off. Arthur steps aside for a moment while you tuck Sienna into bed and ensure she's comfortable.

Once Sienna is settled, you glance at Arthur and gesture him to leave with you. The two of you leave her bedroom as quietly as possible, and you step outside your flat so you can thank him and see him off.

You and Arthur stand in the hallway outside your door, a quiet moment settling between you.

"Thank you again for helping me with Sienna," you say, breaking the silence.

Arthur shakes his head, "It wasn't a bother at all," he replies sincerely, his eyes reflecting genuine kindness. Then, he remarks, "You and Sienna seem really close."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, we've known each other since we were about 10 years old. She's probably the only person in the world who knows me better than I know myself," you explain. Arthur listens attentively, admiring you as you talk about your best friend with a slight twinkle in your eye.

Arthur nods with a smile. "It was great seeing you again," he says, and you return his smile, expressing your mutual sentiment.

He then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. "Could I get your number?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he hands you his phone.

You take the phone with a smile, feeling the subtle tension building in the air. After exchanging numbers, a moment of silence passes as you gaze into each other's eyes. In that moment, you notice just how close he's stood, his height easily towering over you.

In a low voice, you say, "I really enjoyed speaking with you today," with a smile. Arthur replies, "So did I."

The tension between you grows palpable, and Arthur breaks the silence. "I think we should hang out more often," he suggests.

"Yeah, I think so too," you reply, excitement lacing your voice.

Maybe it was the alcohol that was still flowing in your system, or maybe it was the feeling of anticipation that was building, almost like each of you was waiting for the other to say or do something, or maybe it was just this gorgeous man standing ever so close to you, with his pretty brown eyes and a charming smile that was already getting you weak at your knees. Whatever the reason may be, all you knew is that you were feeling surprisingly bold tonight.

Without another word, you lean in, deciding to shoot your shot with the guy who only came into your life a week ago. Arthur reciprocates, leaning in and connecting his lips with yours. His hands come up to your waist, giving it a light squeeze as he pulls you almost flush against his hard chest. The sudden contact causes a light gasp to escape your mouth. Arthur takes the chance as he slips his hot tongue into your mouth. Arthur's tongue explores your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and a warmth spreads down your body.

He gently pushes you up against your door as he deepens the kiss further. You find yourself melting into his touch, your arms moving up to wrap around his neck. You give his fluffy soft hair a slight tug, causing Arthur to let out a low groan and he tries to get even closer to you, as if that were even physically possible anymore.

You feel his warm hand snake up the back of your shirt and settle on the low of your back, the sensation turning your legs to jelly.

If someone would have told you a month a ago that you’d be making out with a guy you had just met outside of your flat in London, you would have laughed at their face.

This particular moment was absolutely perfect and you did not wanna stop anytime soon.

Eventually, the two of you pull away breathless, panting for air. Both of you look at each other with matching lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks.

In that moment the both of you let out a laugh, now feeling a lot lighter after breaking the tension.

Arthur takes a step back and looks like he is about to say something. But, before he can get a word in, a loud thud interrupts the moment from inside your flat.

The sounds causes you to jolt and step away from the door. You turn around to open the door, hoping that Sienna hadn't hurt herself in her drunk state.

Before you stepped into you flat, you turn to Arthur. "I had a really good time tonight," you say, smiling. He returns you that swoon worthy smile of his.

"I'll see you later." He says with a goodbye.

With that, you head inside, a goofy smile of your own plastered across your face. You lean against your door and take a moment to process what just happened.

"Y/N", your thoughts are interrupted as you hear Sienna call out to you from inside her bedroom.

"Coming," you reply, heading in her direction, your mind still reeling from the passionate moment you shared with Arthur.

Once you had made sure that Sienna was all good and tucked back into bed, you find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, with flushed cheeks, replaying the events of tonight.

Your phone dings beside you, lighting up your dark bedroom. You peer over to see a "Hi" from an unknown number and at that moment you knew that this new chapter of your life in London, might just be the best one yet.

Part 2

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: AAAAAAHHHH! I still can't believe that I've finally gotten my first fic up. I kind of want to write a part 2 for this fic. I’m envisioning cute museum dates and late night ramblings. Something that is in the same universe as this story. Let me know what you think.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

[roosterbruiser]

I am way, way early for sleepover day butttt this popped into my head and I’m curious to see what you can do with “This is my wife, Dr. Bradshaw. She’s been accused of stirring the pot before.”

(I, an aspiring PhD, am FERAL for being called doctor. I’m also curious what Dr. Bradshaw did. If it doesn’t spark inspo, are you studying anything? What was your favorite subject in school?)

standing at the bar, a smile tugging on your lips as the suns sinks into the ocean just outside, you sigh a happy sigh. you're off work for the next several days--which rarely happens--and that means you can spend every waking moment with your hunk of a husband.

he's currently losing a game of pool to Phoenix, who's tickled pink that you're here so Bradley won't pout all night, and stealing glances at you whenever he can chance it.

God, does he look good, too--that dumb Hawaiian shirt that really must have some sort of magic in it, a tight white t-shirt, blue jeans. he's tan and happy and warm and everything in the world that you love. and you're fairly certain that isn't just the Long Island iced teas talking. being married for the past three years hasn't really changed much at all for the two of you--you still daydream about him like a ditzy teenager. and he still gets flustered when you catch his gaze and wink--it's one of the things you love most about him; how easy you can make him blush.

"isn't he handsome?" you ask out loud to no one in particular--and you're fairly certain that it is because of the Long Island iced teas.

Jake Seresin happens to be standing beside you, waiting for Penny to finish up with another customer so he can get his first whiskey sour of the night, and he glances at you when he hears the dreamy lilt in your tone.

shit--you're hot. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you here before. for a quick minute, he racks his brain, trying to place you. he knows you're familiar--maybe a past fling or a match on tinder--but nothing's calling out to him.

he gives you a once-over, a sly one, and notices a few things: the way your breasts strain against the fabric of your tee shirt, the gloss over your eyes, the way those jeans hug your hips, and a wedding ring.

he follows your gaze to Bradley, who's gaping as Phoenix absolutely demolishes him in pool without so much as breaking a sweat, and frowns.

"eh," Jake answers, shrugging. he turns and catches your gaze, his brows slightly knit. "he's married, anyway."

oh. you recognize this guy from all of Bradley's stories--this is Jake. Hangman. you two seem to always just miss each other: you're out of town when he comes over for a football game, you're working at the hospital when he's on base, you're at the grocery store when he FaceTimes Bradley.

for a moment, you maintain his gaze, waiting for him to place you. but he's just staring at you blankly.

"married, huh?" you ask softly, leaning in closer to Jake. you make a show of looking all around Bradley and Jake's brows knit even further--you're brash for a married woman looking at a married man. "I don't see a wife?"

Jake scoffs softly, an incredulous smile tugging on his lips. surely you're joking. but then he keeps watching you eye fuck Bradley, teeth sunken into your lower lip, and he automatically straightens his spine.

"you're married too," Jake points out, nodding to your ring finger. he crosses his arms over his chest. "how'd your husband feel knowing you're eyeing a Navyman?"

"ooh," you sing-song, batting your lashes. "he's a man in uniform, too, huh?"

Christ. you're less shameless than him.

"and married," Jake repeats, frowning a bit now. "you know, like you. married. holy matrimony and all that. union. like, legally bound."

stifling a laugh, you give a very blasé shrug of your shoulders and bite your lip.

"all the good ones are taken," you say, wrinkling your nose. "don't you think I deserve a little fun?"

Jake fully scoffs now, aghast at your behavior. it takes everything in your body not to break character and introduce yourself. but you wanna see how far you can take this: you've heard stories about Jake. a shameless, over-confident creature who'll turn taken women into single women with a bat of his long lashes. and you've got him gaping at you like you're some sort of wild animal.

but before he can say anything else, Bradley finally wanders up behind you, pressing a few kisses to your cheek as he wraps his arms around your waist.

and that is about all Jake can take.

"listen, man, I don't know your wife but I'm sure she wouldn't be too happy about you kissing up on another married woman!" Jake says, hands on his hips. he's never been more disappointed in Bradley before. he feels like he's in the fucking Twilight Zone. Bradley "I Never Shut Up About My Hot Wife" Bradshaw shacking up with some stranger at the bar while his wife probably busts her ass at the hospital? no fucking way. "and I ain't gonna hold my tongue about it--I'll tell you that now."

when Bradley laughs, Jake just blinks at him. but then you're laughing, too, patting Bradley's chest.

"we almost had him!" you tell Bradley, shoving him playfully. "that vein in his forehead was starting to throb!"

instinctively, Jake slides a finger across his forehead. huh. maybe it was. how the fuck would you know about that vein, though?

"Jake," Bradley says with a grin. "this is my wife--Dr. Bradshaw. she's known to occasionally stir the pot."

beaming at a still-flustered Jake, you extend your left hand.

"pleasure's all mine."

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 11

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH. 11

“One paddle-paddle, two paddle-paddle-.”

“HEYYY! Miss me, little brother?”

“...What the f-”

“It’s ironic! You used to smother me, with your dependency and lack of originality. Now I’m smothering you, by keeping you in a cage. It’s poetic, in a way.”

“...What are you supposed to be?”

“It’s just me, Stanford Pines. I’m definitely your twin brother, and not a maniac who kidnapped you because I can’t admit when I’m wrong or accept that I push people away.”

“Naw, you’re not him.”

“I assure you-.”

“No. Whatever you are? You’re not the guy who's been keeping me down here. You’re something else.”

“Oh?”

“This some… Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation? You one of those hive mind aliens that possess people? Or…?”

“Sixer was right to not underestimate you, conman. Let’s just say I’m a friend.”

“I’ve heard that before, but I recognize another wiseguy when I see one. What do you really want?”

“Why are you in denial, Stanley?”

“Denial is my fourth best skill, actually. It’s right above hoeing, and right below theft.”

“...Ignoring that. Why do you keep insisting you’re not Stanley Pines?”

“Show me the proof, guy.”

“You and Stanford have the same face.”

“Some people are just like that.”

“You have no memory of having a family, but Fordsy here has a gap in his, a gap you could slot into so easily.”

“Lot’s of families ‘lose’ members to homelessness.”

“Sounding a little bitter there, conman. Got personal feelings about that?”

“People aren’t ‘lost’ to homelessness, they’re forgotten. For the comfort of everyone else; for people who love to wax poetically about how other people struggle, but don’t have the stomach to look at it with their own eyes.”

“Well, well, well, well, well-.”

“Buddy, you get a nickel every time you say that?”

“Funny. What’s also funny is your ‘deep insight’. You’re so mad about people like you being forgotten, and yet… You forgot you.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why are you afraid of remembering? Are you afraid that you’ll remember loving people who couldn’t be bothered to remember you?”

“You seem to think you know a lot about me. Why don’t you tell me?”

“I think you cling to this ‘hardcore vagabond with no past’ persona because it’s convenient for you. Because it’s less painful for you. I think you wanted something so bad at one point that it consumed you, and when you couldn’t have it, there wasn’t anything significant left of you.”

“Wow. That’s quite a theory. Wanna hear the one I have about you?”

“Hit me, conman.”

“Oh, I wish I could. My theory is that you’re a lonely, nosey, parasitic little bi-.”

*‘Ford’ presses the mute button*

“Sorry Stanley, but I’m getting the last laugh here- and you’re giving me the bird. No, two birds. The audience will never know if you’re actually doing that, or if I’m just saying that you are.”

(...)

“Hey, Doc?”

“Yes, Stanley?”

“You know how I normally don’t ask you questions about your life because you’re crazy and I’m here against my will?”

“...Are you about to ask me a question?”

“Did you make a Faustian bargain with some eldritch abomination?”

“...What?!”

“Or… Do you use cocaine? I’d believe either, but I can help you with that second one if that’s it; you see, the key to kicking the habit is-.”

“Stanley. Why are you asking this?”

“Because last night something possessed you and tried talking to me about my feelings. But it failed because I don’t have any. What was that?”

“...Nothing possessed me.”

“PhD, you are terrible at lying.”

“Nobody possessed me! You must have just been dreaming.”

“No, I don’t have dreams. I only have nightmares about being suffocated. Or the IRS. Or the IRS suffocating me.”

“...What?”

“Are you a Warlock?”

“A- a what?”

“There’s this game that dorks play - and there's elves, and wizards, and stuff. Warlocks are those guys who use magic, but they have to get it from otherworldly entities. Are you that? Is that what you are?”

“...You are talking about the tabletop roleplaying game, Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons?”

“Yes.”

“You.. play that?”

“No. I never played it.”

“But you know the mechanics?”

“Some of it. Just the basic stuff. None of the actual- I don’t know, rules? Something something something D38; something something something THAC0.”

“How do you know?”

“I dunno, I don’t think too hard about it. Anyways,  so you’re a Warlock and you’re hiding it because your patron, boss, eldritch pimp, or whatever you wanna call it is gonna be mad at you? Is that what this is?”

“Stanley, please. Stuff like that is simply… fantasy.”

“Oh really? This is coming from the guy who has an anatomically accurate poster of a dissected fairy that you drew yourself.”

“...You can see that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s right over there.”

“Stanley, you should not be able to see that. It’s too far away, and you’re not wearing glasses or contacts.”

“Doc, I don’t need glasses.”

“You have needed them our entire lives, just like I do. You have a bad habit of breaking them, or not wearing them because you think you won’t look cool.”

“Shows just how much you know. Are you gonna tell me what that thing last night was? Or are you going to keep changing the topic and hope that I get too distracted to follow up?”

“Nothing happened last night. I’m not a warlock. I can’t believe you lied to me all those years ago when you told me you ignored all of my long talks about the finer mechanics and lore surrounding DD&D. And you should need glasses.”

*Ford goes upstairs*

“Well, guess I have nothing better to do than to take a nap. I wonder how the IRS is going to suffocate me this time…”

To be continued…

[max1461]

Thought for a moment in the 2010s that we were entering a new serious era (e.g. 1920s, 30s, 40s), but it seems that we're instead in an increasingly tacky era (50s, 60s, 70s). Like look at the change in YouTube. Well you all are textheads you don't do video, I know that. But like. In 2017 there was ContraPoints. Agree or disagree with her opinions, what she was doing was conceptually and aesthetically serious. Even her early, low-production-value stuff. She was talking about incels and other internet shit, but the internet is part of the real world, that's fine. In fact that's what gave me hope for another serious era, people were finally talking about internet stuff the way 1920s German intellectuals or whatever talked about the cultural trends of their day. Maybe because Contra has half a philosophy PhD and was explicitly influenced by those German intellectuals.

Another example from a totally disjoint cultural niche was Digi a.k.a. Trixie a.k.a. Ygg Studios or whatever they go by now. Drunk, smelly, and unkempt—yes. Or at least so went the persona. Talking seriously about anime—also yes. When they claimed they were the only good anime reviewer on the internet it made a lot of people mad. But they were right!

There were thinkers, we had thinkers. My generation, or roughly my generation, had thinkers. To be clear, when I include Contra here I'm not including all of her ilk, I'm not including the leftist-theory-regurgitators and so on. But Contra herself was a thinker! Digi was a thinker! We had thinkers.

But that era is over now, on YouTube at least. I go on there and it's all algorithmic drivel. I look for anime content and as I've explained it's all about #hype and #epic and how the new season of whatever #hits different and other empty meaningless bullshit. No analysis, no thought, fundementally unserious bullshit. Tacky! It's tacky! The the YouTube thumbnail O-face is fucking 70s-ass fake wood paneling tacky bullshit!

MrBeast. I've never seen a MrBeast video but I hate him for what he represents. I used to watch this channel called Wranglerstar, he made videos about different types of axes and forest fire fighting equipment and various other stuff. "Modern homesteading" I believe was the tagline. And it was always evident that he was a far-right guy but who gives a shit, his videos where good. Serious videos about interesting topics, that a fucking normal guy might watch. Well around 2020 he basically started flooding his channel with covid conspiracy bullshit and "the Chinese are going to attack us any day!" bullshit and other unserious crap. And I had to stop watching. How could I find any of that compelling? It's vapid nonsense.

And I don't know if it's a shift in the algorithm or people becoming more savvy to the algorithm or what, but all of YouTube is like this now. Vapid clickbait empty meaningless bullshit for another tacky commercialized bullshit era.

And you know, I felt like it might just be localized to YouTube for a while, but I started to look around, and it just feels like everything is like this. Backsliding to the tacky times. God I hate tackiness. I hate unseriousness. I'm having a little meltdown. At least SMW kaizo hacks are having a renaissance. People are doing serious shit in that space, serious shit that is also not anachronistic, you know, it's kept up with the modern world. It addresses modern concerns (fun to play hard Mario). But it's serious. People are serious. One of the few serious things happening in my orbit.

Even in science it feels like people aren't serious anymore. You know, standard Sabine Hossenfelder complaint about particle physics. But I don't really know enough about that to say. Get the vibe that biology is still serious these days.

To be clear, everything I'm saying here is pure vibes. I'm just saying shit. I'm just saying shit that I feel. But I'll be deeply disappointed if I have to live my youth in another tacky era, god damn it. Even the 80s seem like they were better than this.

[msmargarita]

✨🤓Johnathon/🕳️ Spot Headcanons✨

These are some headcanons I wrote for my two fics:

i'm not going to turn into a cosmic anomaly and leave you forever

and

i'm really serious this time, baby

It has !!spoilers!! for both of those fics!

It's basically an AU unless I somehow foresaw the future and guessed what happens in BTSV!

Beware the keep reading button. This is HUGE.

🤓 Johnathon HCs!

HE IS A GEMINI. Like come on. Talks a lot, nerdy, silly guy. He is a canonically silly guy! In his first fight with Miles he pretends to have hurt his nose (he doesn’t have one) to trick him. So silly! I would bet there's Capricorn somewhere in there too. And Pisces. I’ll make this man’s whole birth chart if you dare me. Just dare me. I’m insane.

Jason Schwartzman used to be in a band in the 00s. I think it would be cool if Johnathon also had some sort of interest in music. I think he would have tried to learn guitar in college but only got a few chords in before life got too chaotic and every now and then he thinks of picking it back up. 

He is also one of those guys who fanboys over old ass music, especially from the 60s and 70s. Loves Jazz, Funk and Prog Rock. Look at this man and tell me he is not a prog rock guy. He is a nerd, he might even be *shudders* a math rock guy. I also think he would have one completely random favorite artist that has nothing to do with the things listed above, like, idk Lizzo. Or Princess Nokia. He just looks like the type.

I think everyone agrees Johnathon is at least in his thirties, but I put him down as thirty-three in the end. I did that because Olivia is thirty-five tops in ITSV (according to Peter) and since he was her subordinate it makes sense that he would be just a little bit younger than her. 

“But hey! That's too young to get a PhD!” you might say, but I think Johnny is an overachiever. I think he was one of those super genius kids that got in early in college and lived for academia. A teacher's pet even.

He is a workaholic, so when he quits his job he gets really lost and doesn't know what to do with himself. He might have a new job soon doing what he loves, so you’re going to need to be on his ass so he doesn’t fall back into his old habit of overworking. 

I like to think that Miles would get an internship under Johnathon a few years in the future and they would learn a lot together. Jonathan would probably take a week to figure out he is Spider-Man and would cover for him when the boy needs to disappear. This actually sounds like a fun drabble to write about.

Johnathon may be a genius, but like he said, he is not too familiar with relationships. I think he might've had one or two in the past, but everything slowed down when he started working at Alchemax. “I’ve been told” is referring to those past relationships, in which he was probably told that he works too much and never has time to spend with his partners. He’s not been with anyone for a long time and his game consists of buying the first comic book he saw on a shelf in order to ask you out.

But that doesn't mean he is cold. Quite the opposite really, Johnathon is very touchy-feely. He hasn't been with anyone for a while and misses touching and being touched. He is most comfortable when being at least 70% curled around you. 

He smokes Dunhill Carltons (he likes to feel fancy), but less now that he isn't as stressed from work. Like he said, he used to go on walks to smoke and pass by the comic book store you work at before you guys had even met. I like to think he developed a little crush back then.

Had his tattoos done in college, so they are very faded now. He doesn’t think of redoing them because the mere thought of having to stay seated for hours in the same place feeling pain stresses him out. He was a lot more easygoing when he had them done.

He did have a superhero phase when he was a kid. He would fantasize a lot about having superpowers and flying away when the bullies showed up. Never thought about fighting back. Before becoming the Spot, he wasn't the confrontational type. The hero thing fizzled out as he grew older, but he would always dream about being stronger. Being a better version of himself in a kinda superficial, but understandable way.

He still has a bunch of action figures, he thinks they look cool. If you give him one, he won't even care if he knows the character or not, he just likes them.

Even though Johanthon says he is “good-looking”, he does add “for a scientist” in the end. I think he tries to mask his insecurities with humor, always putting himself down with a joke, always saying he’s too old, too corny, too nerdy. In the back of his head he knows the hair and the glasses are kind of a look, but he doesn’t feel handsome. You help as much as you can, but that’s an obstacle for him to overcome by himself. I think after i’m really serious this time, baby he gets better at this.

🕳️ The Spot HCs!

For clarification: the story of i’m not gonna turn into a cosmic anomaly and leave you forever stretches the plot of ATSV to a few weeks instead of a day. Just think of it like Spot taking a little longer to power up instead of a few hours.

Since he was forced to do crime to survive, I think he would've thought to himself: "Well, since I have to go rob a store anyway, might as well be that one where that cute cashier works at." 

Yes, Spot starts tracking and following you after you two meet. He uses his computer nerd powers for evil. A very unhealthy way of dealing with a crush, I think.

Spot can eat but he doesn't get any nutritional value from food. When you drink wine together or when he burns his tongue (?) from tea it's just a placebo effect. I like to think that Johnathon's mind is still inside The Spot's body, so he eats just for habit. He says he gets hungry all the time, but it's actually a deep need to consume everything around him. The little rascal.

As he powers up, Spot gets more confident in himself. He thinks the stronger he gets the further away he gets from Johnathon, his old self. Which, in the end, turns out to be true.

I think at first you don't really believe Spot is an actual supervillain which is why when you see him after the fight in Mumbattan it's such a shock. In a way, you did the same thing Miles did when he underestimated him, even if for whole different reasons. I think even though he knows you care about him, Spot knows you don't see him as a threat and that makes him want to impress you more. 

Spot knows that the reason you keep getting new jobs is because his own crazy supervillain life keeps interfering with yours, so he tries to keep it as much hidden from you as possible. He thinks what you don’t know can’t hurt you! As Johnathon, he feels guilty at first that you’re changing your whole life to go with him to New Jersey, BUT this time it was your choice! Not because of supervillain shenanigans!

He does love you (even if it was too early to know) and wants to be with you, but his head is so lost in the supervillain game, he thinks he can’t stop now. You never really realized how serious he was about “being stronger”. Which is why you never tried to stop him.

I chose I’d Rather Be With You as a theme song because I think it’s a song Johnathon/Spot would enjoy. But I also like how the lyrics match both their feelings towards you, in both fics. He wants to fly away with you once he gets all powered up, he loves your smile, etc. He does want to be your friend until the end as the Spot, but as Johanthon he is really committed to work on his bad habits in order to be with you. We gon' make it this time, baby! I cry, damnit. 

It’s also a surprisingly gender-neutral song, with no physical descriptions in it! Anyone can put themselves in the lover's place. Bootsy Collins is cool like that.

I like to think that, in the end, Spot didn't erase himself from the timeline. He just reloaded an old save. Does that make sense? Like you said, your relationship will always have happened, just in an old, non existent dimension. And since Johnathon and you still get dreams and deja vu about the whole thing (think of it as dimensional residue or whatever), you do have all the EXP of the old save. Johnathon, after going through the literal end of all existence and then forgetting about it, feels something compelling him to finally take a chance and enter the comic book store. It’s like when your body goes through something and it remembers later, even if your mind doesn't. Here's a (hopefully) comprehensive timeline:

the end.

Thank you for taking an interest in my weird AU! I would kill for you 💖

[asurrogateblog]

Cannibals, Pirates, and PhDs: How Did I Get Here?

I mentioned in some tags earlier that I’ve only actually been a real fan of Pink Floyd for under a year, and that the confluence of events that led up to it is pretty absurd. Some interest seemed to be taken in this, so I though I’d elaborate.

I didn’t know how to shorten this timeline and have it make any sense, so it’s... long. But idk, I think it’s pretty funny. If you’re nosy like I am this is for you.

My Backstory Timeline:

early childhood: my parents essentially mainline me and my little sister with The Beatles. I know almost no songs written past the 70’s until at least sixth grade. I develop a childhood crush on Paul McCartney, a joke that the universe really decides to play the long game on.

2014: my dad calls me over one night, and gravely tells me he’s been waiting to share something until I’m old enough. I brace myself to be told about sex or secret half-siblings. Instead, he tells me I need to listen to The Wall. Irritated at the idea of wasting an hour and half of my night, I nevertheless comply and go up to my room and put it on. I do not come back from this, clearly having inherited some sort of generational curse.

Around the same time, I am also secretly watching Hannibal every time my parents send me upstairs because Game of Thrones is “too gory”. This will trigger three important things: an interest in psychology, a love of horror media, and a classical music phase will train my attention span to last well past the three minute mark.

2014-2023: Over the intervening years, I become a casual fan of Pink Floyd, but make a deliberate point not to learn anything about the band. I like being able to imagine my own meanings for the songs. Also, I am motivated against this by a childhood memory of being deeply frightening by a picture of old Paul McCartney (LOL). I do not want that to ever happen again, so no learning.

Cut to April of 2023: I am finishing up my first year of my PhD program studying media psychology. I am in a bad place mentally, and am going through another horror movie phase to fill the hole. As a result, I get very into American Psycho. The main character, Patrick Bateman, is a fan of superficial 80’s pop music, particularly Genesis. I decide to start listening to Genesis to see if I agree with his tastes. While researching “best Genesis albums”, I come across The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. I listen to it, and am blown away. I had no idea that the Phil Collins band made music like that. This sends me down the prog-rock rabbit hole. I still won't learn any lore.

Summer of 2023: MEANWHILE, I am also going through another pirate phase. I have a fairly encyclopedic knowledge of 18th century piracy (and am still quite active in the Black Sails fan community). Around this time, I get really obsessed with this one random guy named Dennis McCarthy who was hanged in 1718.

I decide to work poor Dennis into a science fiction story I’ve been working on. The premise is essentially that the universe is an abandoned simulation, and a ‘glitch in the matrix’ starts to, among other things, bring people from the wrong time periods back to life. The format of the story is vaguely monster-of-the-week, in which the characters have to solve various problems caused by mistakes in the code. I think, “hey, you know what would be perfect for this? that fanfic I wrote about The Wall in high school.” Said fic (which that stupid fucking beatles movie stole from me) is about a world in which Pink Floyd never existed, but a wannabe rock-star discovers a box full of their records and decides to copy them. While he is touring his plagiarized version of The Wall, he realizes that the events of the album are starting to happen to him in real life. By working this concept into my new story, I go through another one of my periodical The Wall phases. It's in full swing when fall rolls around.

September of 2023: This semester, I take a grad-level narrative theory class in the English department. I decide it would be helpful to follow along with a specific example, so I choose The Wall. Using the terminology I am learning in the class, I start to realize that The Wall is…. incredibly narratologically fucked up. To help orient me, I watch the bootleg concert recordings, and the trick with the surrogate band sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore.

This is where the two plot-lines converge. I don’t remember which came first, but around this same time, I think to myself “hey, if Genesis was hiding such an incredible album under the 80’s pop, what must Pink Floyd be hiding?” On that whim, I put on Piper at the Gates of Dawn, which equally sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore. I needed to know what the fuck happened to get them from Piper to The Wall.

September-November: In the two months between the onset of this and finally making another sideblog, I dedicate all of my free time to learning as much about Pink Floyd as humanely possible (and writing a 20 page essay for that narrative theory class). As you can imagine, this is a lot to unpack all at once for someone who didn’t even know who Roger or Syd or any of the rest of them were. Luckily, I am over-educated enough to be a very fast learner. Aside from the band lore itself, I of course also fall in love with the rest of Pink Floyd's discography musically-speaking. Having this interest to latch onto genuinely pulls me out of my depression.

Cut to February 2024: I am really enjoying myself, and want to keep this going as long as possible, but I am starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel on Pink Floyd lore. I decide I need to feed the fire by supplementing with lore from another band. The Beatles seem to have a strong fan presence on tumblr, why not revisit a childhood favorite? The universe laughs at my expense.

That about brings us up to date. I have gone through so much character development over the last eight months, it’s crazy. Pink Floyd is definitely one of those things that is less of a “phase” and more of a permanent part of my mindscape. Weirdly enough, since I am studying media psychology, all of this has also been really good for my career? I never took an interest in -real- media figures (as opposed to fictional characters) before, and I feel like I have a much clearer sense of things now. It's definitely influenced my research, so whatever domino effect this has on my future is bound to get even funnier.

Anyway, that’s my backstory!

[survivalist-anon]

Log 2: Living Under a Rock

It's been a week since my drop-off at the hospital....no surprise I've been having trouble sleeping, I got some work leave from my boss at the nature reserve.....god damn I'm fucking tired.

Local folks both new to the town and old friends have been pandering for questions.

Some of the local middle schoolers kept fallowing me to my work place asking me about the metal guy. I simply told them I shot him in the eye, than he exploded.....I wasn't expecting those annoying brats to tell other kids about it. Obviously the local pastor (Mark) has been sending his goons to come to my cabin to convince me to come to church for the sake of saving my soul and all that "lovely" jazz. I told them I literally may have met the devil, shot him in the eye, exploded , and now he's dead and thus to leave me alone.

Some folks are a little more respectful and just ask me about more personal things. Got recommended a therapist who just moved to town named Miss Jenny Oakley, nice lady, smiles all the time and has an impressive 3 PhDs in psychology and mental health medication. She's been helping me get through the whole thing and believes I'll be able to make a speedy recovery. She trusts my resolve and that's good in my book.

....now "Newly appointed Deputy" Jeff (my ex-boyfriend) apparently thinks he can just give me the presidential treatment. He keeps following my car EVERYWHERE. I feel like nuisance now this has happened, people keep staring at me when Jeff just follows me at this point. You'd think after our falling out he'd have the self respect to be a little less...creepy about it. He's stopped by my cabin to keep checking up on me....I wonder if he thinks it's going to be like in the movies where estranged lovers get back together if something happens....jokes on him... I do not need a guy who has tried to convince me to move to Ohio and insult my family's cultural background to boot. Asshole.

Anyways, I've been hanging out at this new coffee shop that's just opened up...it's cozy, sells actual homemade pastries and the coffee is pretty good. Finally, a nice third place. I've noticed more people around my age go there too .... however I've noticed one group constantly eyeing me from across the shop every time I go...they call themselves the "Marine Spotters"...I have no fucking idea what that intels, one of them came up to my table, had the audacity to sit down in front of me like he knew me.....

"So..........you saw one?", the unshaven neck beard asked.

".......you know you could have asked to sit down and I would have said yes but fine go off Gabe Newell.", I'm not usually this hostile but things have gotten tense for while....I wouldn't blame anyone for being upset at me for it either.

"heheh very funny, anyway, my name is Benedict Grabowski. I'm the local expert in these "big metal men "....I see based on your description you've seen a "Black Legion" marine. A level 3 on the danger scale and are quite rare in these parts.", he adjusts his glasses. "The fact you even survived a harrowing encounter with one is without a doubt a life achievement and a free ticket admission to our organization!", handing me a business card with some edgy cartoon spaceman, it had his phone number, email address and an actual address...it was the abandoned mineral mine not too far from the animal reserve I work at....

"I hope your membership will prove to be of great use to us.", concluding with a smug look on his jolly face.

I sat there ready to throw this guy from window I was seated next to....but I'm certain the shop owners wouldn't be too pleased.

".....why the .org?"

He acted confused, "I beg your pardon?".

"...the .org....on your email address....you don't work for the Tillamook station do you? I told them I don't know shit.", took a frustrated sip of my coffee.

He laid back, "well...I...what one would call....a "white hat hacker"....my services in online server hacking, government surveillance and hehe...not to brag...a national code cracking champion of the Tokyo Code Breaker competition. I actually am...not a huge fan of our corporate federal overlords and I only desire for their inevitable downfall through me tanking their stocks."...

I literally was sitting across to a felon....

"so ..with your epic survival skills, my tech mastery and my collaborators", he points to his original table of collected individuals; a heavyset goth girl, the kid of one of the local beef farmers and one creepy guy I remember being the weird kid in highschool.

"Hi Steven.", I wave to him.

"Hi Lorey!", he waves and gives his creepy grin that in through literally means nothing to me. He does it for a cheap bit that I'm certain Jeff already knows and is dieing to catch him for something.

By this point Benedict was actually shocked I knew Steven. "What?! I thought you just moved here!"

I chuckled a little, "I use to live here, I know the area rather well but it's changed a bit since I was last here back in 2003. Also....what the shit is this all about?". I point to the business card.

His shocked expression transforms back into that stupid 'big shot cool guy' look. "Well, we spot those big metal men. Turns out....these anomalous entities are actually appearing throughout the whole planet. All of them of variety and....motives....". He looks around, takes out a folder of the ever lovable 'blurry photographic evidence' one would expect looking for cryptids. "Behold. Humanoids who walk amongst us!".

Im staring at the photos, one struck me to my core ....the big black and bronze one I saw being blown to chunks...the one that killed Grandpa.

"ah...I see...so it was that one.", leaning towards me closer....I can smell the fucking butter from his croissant he ate at his table. "If you need us...call us....", he decided to leave a second card....ok....."anyway, surprised?"

I was a lot more than surprised....I must have been living under a rock...."yeah....I am."

After that I decided to go home. On the ride back, I couldn't help but wonder if Benedict was telling the truth... about them being everywhere...that's a scary thought in all honesty.

I get out my car and took one long glance at my Grandpa's cabin. His only inheritance to my mom. When I said the funeral was a mess, it was an absolute garbage fire because on the same day we had his will reading. His most valuable possession in his will was this cabin, and boy was my aunt pissed she didn't get the property. At least Mom had the last laugh, anyway....as I was remembering that day....I noticed something that sent shivers up and down my spine.

A blood trail....it looked like it came from the forest behind the property, up the steps and on to my doormat. I get out of the car, cautiously, for I all know whom ever left this bloody mess is close by.

It was a huge leather sack, sealed tight with...a red wax in the opening. It was leaking a lot, I was hesitant to open it, but the blood smelt familiar. "....it can't be....", I tore off the hard wax, the gamey stink of deer was permeating throughout the porch. Opening the sack, I saw what could be weeks worth of meat. I was stunned! All nicely cut and cleaned ...I tried lifting the sack without getting some blood on me...failed...and brought it to the cellar freezer. As I placed the meat in the freezer, I saw there was a note on the bag I hadn't noticed....it was a handwritten note for certain....but I had no idea what was written on it. Again, Nordic ruins were present...but it was mixed with another language...I took medieval history a short while back and had the privilege of almost learning how to read medieval texts....it was close to it...and yet... completely unreadable for me.

I set the note on a table and save it for later.

Everything has been so strange lately.

The hours pass, and I finally decided to do some digging....this has to be some...real life ARG or something....it's either a dedicated group of cosplayers....or... something is really out there...it's so uncanny....

End of log 2

@kit-williams

[aita-blorbos]

WIBTA for getting revenge against the person that ruined my life?

I (36M) am (still am, losing your job doesn't get rid of a persons PHD) a scientist that specializes in theoretical physics and studies of the multiverse. Until around a year and a half ago I had a job at a prestigious science facility, where I designed a device that would transport anything from other dimensions to ours (we had to set it off a little bit ahead of schedule, but overall, I'd say I did a good job with the timeframe I was given!).

This is where a person I'll call SM comes in.

One of the tests I ran on the device involved bringing a radioactive spider from another dimension to ours, but unfortunately, it escaped and bit him, which resulted in him gaining amazing powers, and becoming a superhero (he killed the spider right after it bit him, BTW.) (just thought I should bring that up.) (really stellar guy, takes important moments in his life REAL seriously.) (I don't think text is doing a good job conveying how sarcastic I am being right now, so to clarify: I AM BEING REALLY SARCASTIC.).

My first face-to-face meeting with SM was brief, but impactful. It happened when he and another important-but-not-so-relevant-to-the-story-guy broke in to my (ex) workplace a day before we were going to set off the device for real, all so that they could steal top secret information from us....And a bagel?! Which SM actually used as a projectile to HIT ME WITH (what kind of person DOES THAT? And with so much unnecessary force, too!)

Then, a day later, he blew up my invention WHILE I WAS STILL IN THE ROOM. I wasn't even one of the people fighting him, all I was trying to do was grab a canister of the dark energy my device was generating, but he didn't care at all that I was there!

Because of him blowing up that machine, I was turned in to...Something else. I don't have a face anymore, and my entire body is covered with these holes. Things fall through them all the time, and it leads to all sorts of embarrassing accidents that always cause people to laugh at me.

Not only that, but by doing this, he also made me lose my job, which was practically my entire life. I look so grotesque, my own family won't even LOOK AT ME, and I can't even get a new job to support myself because of the way my condition makes me look!

So that means by the time SM and I finally met again, I was so dangerously low on funds, I had to resort to a life of crime! I decided to jumpstart it by robbing an ATM machine because that's pretty harmless and easy, isn't it? I mean, it's a machine, nobody loses anything from me taking from one of those, besides for the bank, but who cares about them? They steal from people all the time! I'd hardly say it's a villainous act to take from them, except for the fact that robbery is illegal. Anyway, the shopkeeper assaulted me for trying to steal from the ATM machine.

Maybe I should have seen that one coming.

...Eh, whatever.

It only gets worse from here, because then, out of nowhere, SM shows up, makes fun of me, and then cuts me off while I tried explaining to him who I am and why I should matter to him, just so he could read a text. Which is just unbelievably rude, and tbqh, pretty unheroic!

He spent the rest of what was SUPPOSED to be our epic battle on his phone, texting some person. This fight was meant to be a huge deal for both of us, and he didn't take it seriously at all, he barely even bothered to look at me for a majority of it. At one point, he even webbed me up and left in the middle!

Our fight did eventually resume, and midbattle he told some police officer that I was just a "villain of the week", while I was RIGHT THERE!

Eventually, the fight brought as all the way back to the site of the accident, right where our connection first formed. This was finally a point where I had the chance to tell him everything, what I did for him, what he did to me! And even after all that, he still treated me like a JOKE!

I got really mad at that point, which came back to bite me pretty quickly. As in, I accidentally kicked myself in to one of my own holes (like I said before, I have a lot of holes, they go places, one hole took my foot to my own butt, and I fell in to another hole).

But on the bright side, this resulted in me finding out that I'm a transdimensional superbeing. Which gave me an epiphany! I finally know what I want to do now, and how I'm going to do it. There's a lot of science involved, multiversal travel, stuff like that. But the basic idea is that I'm getting payback. The way I see it, he took everything from me, so why shouldn't I get to take everything from him? It makes sense, right? Because of him, I have nothing, so why should he have anything? It's only fair!

So, as long as everything goes according to plan, by the time I'm done, he shouldn't have anything left, and then he'll finally learn to respect me.

....Wow, this came out way longer than I thought it would.

Here's a tl;dr!:

SM ruined my life, WIBTA if I ruined his in return?