#i dont mean to sound like a no it all my voice only fluctuates when im high or really nerdying out

[mossywizard]

shout out to the one other autistic kid at an acting camp i went to who actually told me i had dandruff. while i was to defensive then, holy shit you were the One person to ever tell me, and my scalp is grateful

[maximuswolf]

I feel like my musical creativity got worse over time

I feel like my musical creativity got worse over time I got really into composition in my senior year of high school 3 years ago when I took AP Music Theory class. Having played piano my whole life, I started with writing piano sheet music using MuseScore, writing short piano compositions that I could play on my piano. I have a pretty good ear (perfect pitch + years of classical training) and with the exercises from the AP Music Theory class (things like harmony, voice leading, chord resolutions & dissonance, etc) I felt like composition came really natural to me, and I sort of just wrote whatever that sounds nice based on ear only. At some point I got more interested in producing actual streamable tracks so I got on FL Studio and played around with its piano roll and started making lots of instrumental tracks. I don't really like it when people call my music "beats" since all work is melodical and I dont really categorize myself as a beatmaker producing these YouTube "Type beats" (those that just finds some sample online and throws bunch of 808s and drums). I spent a lot of time crafting melodies, harmonizing them and etc.Something weird that I noticed over time, however, is that the creativity wears off and over time I would resolve to what I call a "lazy writing", which means I sort of repeat the same chord progressions. It wasn't like I would set out and tell myself that I would use a certain chord progression (since I was writing entirely based on my ear only), but weirdly enough I would sort of always repeat same patterns. I think it's because my brain sort of got trained on common chords that come next and I would always resort to what I think is the best sound, which always happened to be the same thing. This led me to trying out writing for vocal music instead, because it felt like I could no longer write good original melodies as I had once been able to for purely instrumental /compositional tracks (this is a really weird experience -- even though I am better at using DAW now, I honestly think my high school self had the best musical creativity). I did find success in doing this because all vocal music tends to follow very common underlying progressions and the creativity comes from sound design and mixing, and not really the underlying chords. So this "lazy writing" actually worked out perfectly, since I could resort to the common patterns and the music would still sound good when the right vocals come on. Few days ago I dropped a first vocal track and lot of my friends told me it's my best song so I plan on continuing to write more vocal music for now.I just wanted to share this sort of bizarre experience I've had as a musician over time, of how my creativity seems to have gotten worse, although I would say my overall skills have gotten better. The "technical" skills in production, such as knowing the ins and outs of DAWs, mixing & mastering and etc definitely seem to only go up (improve) over time, but to me the musical creativity and the ability to write original melodies / compositions seem to fluctuate weirdly. I would love to know if anyone sort of has a similar experience. Submitted October 31, 2024 at 12:11AM by Prestigious_Leg_7046 https://ift.tt/njtg70s via /r/Music

[witch-hazels-musings]

I'm curious of how characters would use their visions in the bedroom 👀 Like, Kaeya would totally do temperature control stuff.

Could I request headcannons or narratives for how Diluc and Albedo would use their visions for your pleasure? (or for theirs 😳)

Note: I believe vision can only be used when they are in the possession of the person they were gifted to ( primary reason: Diluc giving his away - if anyone could have used it he would have given it to his father, and if he didn’t really need it to use his vision, he wouldn’t have taken it back ) 

Warning -> slightly funny? 18+ OMG PLEASE RESPECT THE 18+! NS_FW!!!! ( foreign penetration, voyeurism (Alb), burning clothes, no injury, held against wall (D), orgasm denial, foreplay, hydro bondage, hydro foreplay, voyeurism (C)) 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

( okay … so this one is gonna be the strangest one I’ve ever done?, and I’m apologizing right now for it --- i’m literally so embarrassed, ima hide under my desk DONT JUDGE ME T.T )

Includes: Albedo (i’m sorry), Childe, Diluc 

Albedo

A vision in the hands of Albedo is a tool for many uses - he sees it less as proof of his power and more of a means to an end  - it’s an extension of what he has available and he’s learned to adapt it to any possible scenario 

Now he’s learned there are ways he can use it to satiate you while he continues to do his work - and, if he’s feeling especially devious, inquisitive to the point of combustion, he may just watch 

���Alb--bedo …” You adjusted, legs pressed together so intensely that you thought you might break your kneecaps. Shaking hands gripped onto the closest thing they could while you did your best to stay seated just where he placed you. 

“Try not to move too much, it will alter the drawing.” He sat with his leg resting over his thigh, the large sketchpad he had propped up there was bouncing vigorously as his hand ran across the paper. The pencil, when you could see it through your blurry vision, was dancing across the parchment in unbelievable speed as if to capture what was before it. 

The vibrations that shook your body seemed to fluctuate from intense stimulation to slow, steady pulsations. Every dip in frequency allowed you room to breathe, your hands moved to your face, teeth bit onto your fingers as your hips rocked against nothing as they sorrowfully tried to help you get off. 

“Be-do, please …” You whined, eyes glossing over as you looked at him. Did he laugh, did he smile at you, how heartless could he get. Under your rippling vision, you saw how it glowed brighter and richer in color, and yet, as if you didn’t comprehend its meaning, your hands flew down to grab onto the chair while the resonating stimulation grew between your legs. “Ah!” You slid further into the chair, your head resting on the back of the chair as your fingers gripped and pushed against the edge of the seat. Arching your back, lifting your legs up onto your toes you couldn’t help the moans and pants that fell from your mouth at an unreasonable pace. 

“Hold that pose.” Albedo’s voice was calm even if the speed at which he turned the page wasn’t and, as you gazed at him you couldn’t help but lose your mind at the way he observed you. The intensity of it was so powerful that even though you knew he wasn’t inside of you, it felt like he was. 

You crashed like a runaway cart into your orgasm, it shook you to your core, and even though you were screaming moments ago all that came out now was a high-pitched whimper. Deep breaths were all that you could take as you clenched around the object Albedo had placed inside of you, it was so hot that you started to pull at your shirt, and soon your hands found their way to the spasming place between your legs. 

Albedo’s voice suddenly sounded much closer to you, his lips pressing to your forehead while his hand rested on the one you had near the object. “You did excellently, but I’d like to see more of you if I could, will you assist me again?” 

In your dizzy haze, you glanced at his bright eyes and with a gaping, air-sucking mouth, you gave your reply. 

 Childe

There was no need to keep his skills at manipulating hydro out of everything that he did, why would he when he was so beyond capable at making it do exactly what he wanted. Whether that be from creating blades out of it, spears in its likeness, or even shackles to hold people down - he was learning just how versatile water could be 

How could he not give everything he’s ever wanted to try to his partner who had shown him on multiple occasions a level of trust he knew he didn’t deserve, and a willingness to let him do what he wanted -- you always gave him permission, and you were doing it even now 

Your back arched as his hands slid under your pants. The way he touched you so perfectly made your vision go dark before lighting up under the stars. As soon as he put pressure right where you needed it, fingers bending and flexing to let you know how much control he had over you, the sound of pleasure and excitement that slipped from your mouth gave him access to the tongue inside of it. 

He played with you, toyed with the tightness in your stomach. Every time you were about to break under his stimulation he pulled away just to watch how much you’d whine. 

“Childe, please …” You shifted under him as he slowly, painstakingly began to remove your clothes. Each layer, every article which fell to the floor next to the bed felt like an eternity in your sinful sentence. The way his hands ran down your legs as he slipped off your pants, the sensation of his gloved fingers trailing down the center of your chest as he watched the way you squirmed and grabbed at his arm - he was enjoying it all and he had barely done anything to you yet. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you need, remember,” He pressed his lips to your neck, your collarbone, and in the center of your chest before continuing, “If you want to stop, tell me immediately.” You nodded your head and he sealed your promise with a passionate kiss. 

In no time, he had you exactly in the state he wanted you, his eyes observing the beauty and perfection that lay before him and as your own gazed longingly, eagerly back at him, you noticed how his vision began to hum. It pulsed like a glowing heart and in your curiosity, you reached your hand for it only to find it was impossible. 

Tilting your head, you noticed there was a stream of water around your wrists. Funny, you couldn’t tell that your skin was wet at all. That’s when a new sensation began to work its way up to your legs and when you looked down to investigate, you noticed a swirling blue like rope beginning to creep its way further up your body. 

“What’s …” The smile that stretched his lips and seeped into his dangerous eyes made it so hard for you to breathe. Your heart pounded in your chest, your stomach rippled with excitement, and the build-up in your body began to increase so much you were sure he was going to make you orgasm just from his stare alone. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, ready for wh-AH!” The flowing water reached your ache. The wetness of it made your body nearly seize as he worked its way into you. The moans and cries that left your burning throat were so loud you were sure someone was going to hear you. Desperately, you wanted to cover your mouth but your wrists were still locked above your head so instead, you tried to bite your lip but that only sealed in so much noise. 

“My, how adorable you look like this.” Childe hummed, his hand moving to stroke your chest as he leaned down to pepper kisses against your throat. “Let’s push a little further, what do you say?” 

The girth of the water increased and no amount of self-control was capable of holding back the scream released from your body. Your feet struggled against the mattress, futile attempts to assist you in raising your body off of the mattress came with frustrated huffs and whines in your throat. You called out his name and soon you heard the sound of rattling metal. 

“Damn, I made myself jealous.” Suddenly, all the water around your body ran down your skin and before you could understand what was happening, Childe positioned himself above you and worked at finishing what his hydro vision started. 

Diluc

He usually has so much more control - he had to learn in order to survive, but there were times, there were moments when all he knew was instinct and all he could do was feel 

With you, these moments came up more frequently than he would have ever anticipated - there is no switch to turn himself off when he gets lost in your body. You learned to never get him so worked up while his vision still rested at his hip (things were bound to burn) 

He backed you into a wall, his fever to have you was apparent by the intense way his hands ran over your body, tugged at your clothes, manipulated your hands with his. He was almost like another person, a delusion of himself. There was no way you could have known riling him up would lead to this and while it was incredible, the ferocity of him, the unreserved nature that he was capable of showing, it was also incredibly hot. 

“Diluc wait -” You tried to reach for his vision but his hands plastered yours to the wall. His lips claimed any part of your skin that they could and the pressure of his body against you, the feeling of his growing and dangerous erection crushing against your stomach made every rational thought in your brain fall to the floor he hardly let you touch. 

His strength always shocked you. For someone so thin it was often hard to remember that he was capable of it - even though you watched him fling his claymore around like it was nothing, even though on countless occasions he lifted you like you were a freshly sprouted plant; how deceiving his true abilities were to you and everyone else.

Your clothes began to cling to your body. The sweat dripping down your back, in between your legs, your neck all made you wildly informed his vision was active. You didn’t even need to see how it burned like a beating ember to know he was calling on its ability. He let go of your hands and began to work himself out of his jacket, undo his vest, and any other article of clothing he could all the while his mouth kept yours occupied. 

The heat from his tongue was near scalding, how was he able to let this fire seep through every single part of his being - was he not experiencing it too? When his chest was exposed, your hands ran over his rippled torso and the question you just asked yourself was answered as you felt how slick he was becoming. 

You pulled him closer, the resulting action making his body come into immediate contact with yours and the feeling of his cock digging into the soft and sensitive area between your legs made you burst in exclamation. Your head landed on the wall, hands slid around the hem of his pants and gripped so tightly onto them his hips pushed further into you. 

“It’s hot, it’s so hot.” You panted, gazing at him and hoping that your words made sense. Your body was hot, everything was hot, but while you wanted him to alleviate the heat, you hoped he’d remove one primary cause of it.  

Pinning your hands above your head, he quickly began to work on your pants. He wasted no time undoing the buckles and buttons that kept you clothed and as he helped you remove them there was a distinct smell filling the air. When you looked down, the fabric was starting to burn even with you still in it. 

“Diluc! Hold-ah!” Struggling against him, you began to shake your lower body and in his complete daze, he slowly came back to realization. In an instant, he let go of you and grabbed the nearest item to him to put out the flames. He was on his knees, his black shirt tightly wrapped around your chard pants afraid that if he didn’t keep it there the flames would get worse. 

“Y/N … I cannot apologize enou-” Your laughter cut him off, the expression he shot up to you was one of mass confusion as he searched for understanding. 

“If I had known you were going to burn my clothes, I would have teased you without them.” He shook his head and tried to apologize again, his eyes dropping to your legs, assessing them for any damage. “I’m fine, you didn’t burn me.” 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, his cheek pressing against your stomach as he held onto you tightly. Chuckling, you rested your hand on his hair and began to caress him, the soft movements reassuring him until he composed himself again and lifted back to his full height. Looking at his face, you could tell he was nervous, so you lifted onto your toes to give him a kiss of redemption. 

“Next time, let’s leave this,” you reached for his vision and easily removed it from his pants, “out of the action. What do you say, hot-stuff?” His eyes narrowed at your nickname but agreed to your suggestion anyway. 

--

( no one is tagged because I am too embarrassed to do that! ) 

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 57:Travails of Royalty

Chapters: 57/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: none Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor(Marvel), Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), In Which Thor Has Regrets, Loki Tries To Be A Good Brother In The Harshest Way, Sometimes One Has To Point Out Painful Truths And Loki Has Done That Before

Summary:  Beneath the crown there sits a man, with the heart of a man, and the fears, determination, and regrets of a man. The measure of the man is the measure of the king. Thor Odinson knows this, and still worries that he measures poorly.

Loki stormed back into the main banquet hall, ready to give the annoying little twit a piece of his mind, but Thor had already intervened, detaining Gloa and lecturing her fiercely. Most of the Asgardian nobles had vacated the hall by now; those that remained were not among Gloas friends. They watched smugly as the Allfather himself had to take her into hand, and Loki knew she would be prodded about this for some time.

You had fallen back into a little knot of Avengers; Loki could see your hat among them. He headed to you first.

“Are you harmed, my dear?” He asked. Gloa was not a warrior, but she was still Asgardian. If she struck you, it could hurt you very badly.

“No, I'm just super mad!” You snarled. “I don't know where she gets off-did you know she doesn't even have a job? Andsvarr's a noble, and he has a job! He does something useful, instead of just sitting around and leeching off everyone else like a fucking parasite!” You raised your voice on that last part, and Gloa looked away from Thor to glare at you, even though she could not understand your words.

“Loki...Loki.” You clutched at his robe. “I need to go stab something. Can I head to the training area for a little while?”

“Oh. Yes, of course. Please do, go vent your frustrations on something that is not a subject of mine, whom I am obligated to protect, despite how vile I personally find them to be.”

“Didn't you chop off a guys hand?” Natasha asked. “I'm sure I heard that somewhere.”

Loki turned away, nose in the air. “He broke the law.”

“The law of Dont Fuck With Loki's Main Squeeze?” Bucky asked.

“Yes. Now get her out of here before someone else tries anything.”

                                                                          *****

You strode through he halls with Natasha, Mr. Barnes, Steve, and Mr. Rhodes at your sides, You could only imagine what you must look like to those you were passing; A storm on your face, and the king's friends for an escort. But room was made for you in the general training area.

“Okay, come on kiddo.” Mr. Rhodes said. “Show us how it's done in Asgard.”

You showed them all your knife, explained what it was, where it had come from, and how you'd gotten it. Natasha nodded slowly at the explanation.

“Yeah, sounds appropriate that you should have it.”

“I've been training with the Valkyries, and with Loki when I can.” You said. “Got a long way to go though.”

You showed them your drills, how you took on the training dummy, how you compensated for your smaller-than-Asgardian size. Your entourage watched as you went, ignoring the stares from the other trainees. They were probably used to stares, and even you were beginning to become numb to them.

“...So...” You panted, coming to a halt. “That's basically what I know...Haven't had to actually use any of this though...”

“That's probably a good thing, kid.” Mr. Rhodes said. “Did they teach you to just rush in like that, or is it because you're mad?”

“Huh?”

“What he's saying is that this style is...very Asgardian. Even the way Loki fights is very Asgardian.” Natasha said. “Meaning that, while he does add a bit of misdirection to it, he still fights like an Asgardian. Fast, hard, and very aggressive. That might not be the best technique for you, though. You don't have the same kind of physical power and durability. What you do have, is the element of surprise. Would you let me show you how to use it?”

Personal training with an Avenger? You leapt at the opportunity.

“She's gonna regret that.” Mr Rhodes said.

“Gonna regret it.” Steve echoed.

“I'm not.” Mr. Barnes said. “I get to watch.”

“You get to participate. Get over here and prepare your insteps for pain.” Natasha commanded.

Mr. Barnes approached, sighing in defeat as the others jeered at him.

                                                                         *****

“We can't just imprison people for saying things, Loki.” Thor insisted. “We'd run out of room in a day.”

“A public flogging then!” Loki said hotly.

“Loki!”

“I am beyond done with that little twit, Thor! She's been like this for centuries, but she's been crossing greater and greater lines lately. We've seen what happens when we allow these things to escalate. _____ has seen what happens, and it landed her in the healing wing with a broken face! I'll not risk it again!”

“Do we make insults illegal then? How will you keep yourself from prison, were that the case?”

Loki glared. Of course he knew he was powerless in this. What Gloa did was wrong and petty, but not illegal.

That was all too familiar.

“I understand your ire, brother. The things some of Jane's peers would say about her...and just because she was a woman and in an experimental science...it still raises my fury. But the best thing you can do for her is stand by her. Your mortal is resilient, but you can be the mighty oak on which she leans when she is weary.”

Loki liked that image. Of being strong, and steady for you. The powerful mast and billowing sails of the ship that carried you on your life's journey. The cloak around your shoulders that kept you warm when the winds of life threatened to chill you. The-

“We can forbid Gloa from talking to her.” Thor said, interrupting Loki's dreamy reverie. “But I wonder what precedent that will set. It would probably look like you were just throwing a tantrum right back at her.”

“Surely I'm not that unbecoming.”

Thor shrugged. “Not all the time.” He teased.

“I can be worse.” Loki mock-threatened.

“I know.” Thor said. “But could you put off your worseness for a few years? Just until we get a few more buildings up?”

“I'll think about it.” They both chuckled. “I'm not just going to let this go, though. Alarr has seemed quiet for now, but those who agree with him are not so restrained. You've been having to deal with them yourself, haven't you?”

Thor sighed, a long gust of exasperation. “I didn't want to bring it up. I didn't want to distress you, or her. Gloa isn't the only one, she's just the most directly vocal about it. There are several of the highest noble families that have made her the symbol of their opposition to human assimilation. Several have made attempts to trick me into passing legislation that will limit or harm her, and any other humans within our borders. Some of it was so broadly worded that it could have been used against our Vanir citizens, or even those whose ancestors intermarried.

You know, I realize that I have been irresponsible in the past, but I'm not sure why they all think I didn't get the same education they did. Do I truly seem like there is nothing but air between my ears?” He caught the twinkle in his brother's eye. “Don't answer that.”

“I believe the greater problem is that they cannot fathom the change that has come upon us, so they are pushing back without much thought as to how it might effect even other Asgardians.” Loki said, then shrugged. “That's if I'm being generous. Long-standing prejudices are not unfamiliar to Asgard. The high families may be taking this chaos as a chance to rearrange Asgard to their liking. I've heard of humans doing this many times. They call it an 'ethnic cleansing'.”

Thor shuddered. “I won't allow it.”

“I know.” Loki said. “But they will continue trying, nonetheless.”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, wrapped up in the challenge laid out for their future.

“I have other bad news...” Loki said, then shook his head. “No, more like...potentially uncomfortable news.”

“Ugh, lay it out.” Thor said.

“The Vision tells me that he has been sensing occasional disturbances that might be someone utilizing the power of one or more of the Stones.”

Thor shook off the malaise of the previous conversation instantly.

“What does he mean? What did he tell you?”

“Very little. Mostly that his connection with his stone is making him aware of vague fluctuations in the power of the stones. We have attempted to narrow it down: Space and Time are secure, and have not been used recently, Mind is secure, and has not been used...that Vision is aware of. I do not personally believe that your pirate friends currently have the capability to use the Power stone between them, but if you can contact them, perhaps you should. The specter on Vormir has not contacted anyone, but perhaps one of us should speak with Miss Romanoff about it.”

“Oh no.” Thor said.

“However, that leaves only one.”

“Oh no.”

“Therefore, we need to contact Dr. Foster.”

“Oh no. No, I can't. I can't do that, you know I can't do that.”

“I know, but we are still going to have to do it.”

Thor drooped. “I told her I would leave her alone.”

“And was she happy about it?”

“She wasn't happy about anything. I destroyed her life.”

“I disagree.”

“I dragged her back in to all of this!”

“She flung herself into this of her own accord.”

“How can you say that?”

“Years ago, she saw a cosmic anomaly out in the desert, and drove towards it with such joyous abandon that she ran you over with her vehicle. Years later, she stuck her hand into a glowing void, heedless of what might be there. Years after that, she enthusiastically threw herself back into the battle for cosmic safety, and she would have done so even if you had not asked. You think you 'lured her into danger' or 'tricked her into coming into contact with the Aether again', but it had already chosen her. Her very personality guaranteed that this would be her fate, with or without you. This is less about you than you think.”

Thor grumbled unintelligibly. Loki knew he'd thought about these things before but didn't want to accept them. No one wanted to accept that they might not be the most important thing in a loved one's life; he certainly didn't. But that was how it had always been between Thor and Jane, to Loki's eyes at least. She just wasn't the type to mope about men, not when there were cosmic mysteries to pick apart.

“In any case, I am going to contact her. You are free to skulk about and hide if you wish. You are the king, after all.” Loki continued.

“All right, all right, stay your stinging tongue. Perhaps I have misplaced my backbone, when it comes to her. It's just that I adore her still...” Thor sulked.

“And you are not used to being scorned.” Loki pointed out.

“I'm already down, must you keep kicking?”

“Oh dry up, brother. Stand tall instead of wallowing in assumed guilt, and she may even talk to you again.”

“Do you think so?”

Loki rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “I'm going to go find _____, and get into contact with Dr. Foster. If you will not extend a formal invitation to her, then I shall.”

                                                                               *****

“I didn't even know elbows could bend that way.” You mused.

“They can't!” Mr. Barnes griped. “Go easy dollface, I've only got one good one left!”

“And what do we do when our opponent tries to solicit sympathy from us?” Natasha asked.

“We go harder!” You exclaimed enthusiastically. Mr. Barnes groaned.

You knew he was just putting on a show. He was at least as tough as Steve, but he worked well as a foil for Natasha's teaching, not making things easy on you, but not making them impossible either. If you did it right, the things she taught you worked, so you knew for sure when you were nailing a new technique.

You'd been going for some time, and you were simultaneously energized, and worn out. These exercises were very different from the ones you had been performing, working different muscles, forcing you into a different headspace. They were very good-natured about your inexperience. It wasn't that your Asgardian tutors weren't patient with you, but they didn't show the same camaraderie.

Still you were flagging, your initial anger long since waned. Gloa could go step on a Lego, for all that you cared, but you probably should bring up with Loki that almost-threat she'd made.

Funerary boat? What did that mean? Was that what Adgardian funerals were like? How did Asgardians address death, anyway? Surely they couldn't have made graveyards! You had seen Loki's projection of Asgard: it was tiny, far too small for graveyards, even for the long-lived Asgardians.

You really needed to ask Loki about Asgardian customs surrounding death. As a Seidkona, and Loki's Seidkona specifically, you might be required to be present or even participate in a funeral, if any Asgardian actually died during your relatively short lifespan.

A glint of light caught your attention, and a dozen things rushed through your head in less than a second.

A knife! Gloa had threatened you. There were assassins within Asgard. You did not want to get stabbed again, not for anything. You had magic. Practically the instant you saw the gleam, you had turned the object back on the person who had thrown it.

It bounced off Steve Rogers chest and clattered to the ground.  

[sophocused]

pursuits of 2019 | a 3am ramble

Hi hi don't mind me as I ramble about all the ideas I have floating about my head bc it's the new year and I'm really excited.

tbh actually I think 2019 is the year I wear my clothes that actually show the shape of my body, idk I think, I've been expressing myself well with the colourful clothes, I think a lot of friends associate colourfulness with me now, which is fucking bomb. I dont even remember the days I would wear all black, or all toned down shades. But yeah for 2019, I wanna wear more non-baggy clothing, colourful just the same... I'll probably treat myself to a lil shopping spree sometime late February or mid-March. Ooo or I'll go thrifting againnn sometime then.

As for school that's coming back, thanks to friends I think the textbooks they provided me saves me $250 of textbook money, and I also switched out one of the 2000 psyc courses for anth1210 which I've been told is super easy so I'm gna work hard to get an A+. I also got psyc 2490 which is a more intermediate elective bc ik essays are involved but I really fucking interested in abnormal psychology. Maybe I can learn something about myself. learn how to help others better. how to help myself better. It's an both electives are online courses so oof I need to FOCUS. Dont get sucked into procrastination temptations and also I need to be frequent in talking to and or meeting up with the profs. I just wanna be more involved for once. I wanna show that i care about the course and not just the number being served up to me on my transcript. Bc that's really important to me in order for me to stay trying and giving a fuck about school. I need to see value in what I'm learning. It's not just a way to my degree. It's not just some stepping stone. The content is worth something to me.

So for winter term, I'm probably going to finally learn how to study in public alone. I'll be able to find more spaces too bc I no longer need places with an outlet bc my parents got me a notebook for Christmas that lasts over 10 hours so FUCK YEA it's so light I'm so happy. My back is so happy holy shit. It's going to add LEAGUES of convenience in my day-to-day uni life tbh. Taking it out during class is easy it so smol and it boots up so fast SIGH i didnt even know I wanted one hahahah I didnt think to get myself something like that or save up for it so glad my parents did. But yeah more study spaces means more practice for me to be alone in public man. I still get anxious sometimes. I feel like I'm being watched. 1. I'm more than most likely not bc everyone's doing their own thing. 2. even if they were, their eyes are just wandering like my eyes do when I casually people watch. I gotta train my mind and body dat it's not a big deal.

Anyway, IM LIMITING MYSELF TO SKIPPING NO MORE THAN 3 TIMES per class. Like I swear to god, it's a 3 strikes I'm out typa thing. Maybe I'll put $10 in a thing for everytime I skip, and donate it to a charity or something. Which isn't very good punishment since I'd be doing a good thing aaaa Idk yet. BASTA. No skipping. Fuck. Skipping was the main fucking reason I did ASS in fall term. That and alternating between "I'll do it at school" and "I'll do it when I get home" too often.

Get your head in the fuckin game nina, I dont wanna see another C or B in that transcript. B+ is the bare minimum standard now. Gotta resurrect that GPA.

YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. My social life is gna suffer a lil. Hi friends who I normally hang out with or see all the time. You will likely only see me once a week 😅 bc ya girl gotta study for her dreams to come true. I wanna ace human phys 2. I wanna ace microbio. I wanna ace anthropology in humanities. I wanna ace abnormal psychology. I wanna get 7 hours of sleep a night at least. I wanna be ahead in my reading. I wanna be up to date with my class notes. I wanna keep all my files organized. All my due dates organized. I wanna be able to work 14 hours a week, 5 days a week, without feeling like it's in the way of my studies and life in general. I wanna be able to see friends at least sometimes, like a lunch date, bc lord knows I've learned that I cant study as much as when I'm alone compared to when I'm with other people.

I'm gonna cook more often at home too, or do something like that, I hadn't cooked since summer bc of how school got, and thanks to my fam for understanding, but I gotta do my part in the house. take initiative. keep laundry folded gdi. I dont like coming home to a room with a mountain of clothes to fold in a corner and a desk where I can barely see my desk. It just drains me. So knowing this, I'm reminding myself the way I like things, where I want things to go, and what I need to do to get them there.

uh ah uh okay something I realized has been extremely apparent for most of 2018. to put it bluntly, I dont see myself as someone other persons could romantically love. Not after christian tbh. before you think it's because I dont like myself, I love myself. I'm so fucking great at loving myself. The thing is, I worked really hard to love myself, and I'm a constant fluctuating work in progress. and thats not even romantically. so, it just feels like that's how it would be if any other person were to try and love me, that's a whole lot of time and effort, and they'd have to want to want to love me in the first place. THAT sounds like I a lotta work. I dont want to put that pressure on anyone??? I think I'm only making half any sense bc another part of me wants to probably say, "ofc there are people who will want to be with u, u acorn". SO I'm gna follow that little voice this year. Last year I shunned it and focused more on platonic love and woo yeah it's so strong, theres nothing stronger.

I'm gna find me a girl. or a mans. depends who I end up meeting first. I know if it's a girl it's tricky bc how do I know if she's into girls too without exposing that I'm trying to find out if she is for the sole purpose of wanting to flirt with her??? I only just recently embraced my attraction in 2018 so it's like... I got no practice in actually flirting with women. I barely have practice flirting with dudes. Anyway ANYWAY, I'm just letting the universe know that if they got someone in store for me in 2019, my arms and mind are open as hell. I'm gna love them so healthily and we gon have such a fulfilling and respectable dynamic. we're gna be so perfectly imperfect bc we gon understand that we're just people and cant be each other's sole source for all kinds of love and energy, that would otherwise be given by many different types or friends and family members even.

WOW I'm really sleepy hmm maybe I'm finally all rambled out.

[rkseongmin]

WILD CARD. MGA ATTEMPT NUMBER 2 RAP ( ORIGINAL ) DANCE ( NTLTC CHOREO 0:05-1:25 )  tw implied drug use implied underage drinking hj being really hard on himself

wild cards huh? 

hyunjoon didn’t really like the sound of that. he knows how these survival shows work--from a view standpoint--since he’s watch so many of his now favorite groups go through the same thing. watched the past mga seasons when they were airing. fell in love with contestants then, and never once considered going on the stage himself. oh how time has flown by.

while he didn’t really like the sound of wild card, knowing it was some ploy by the show to make things more interesting hyunjoon could also see it for what it is. a another chance.  

he spoke with juyeon about it, seeking the older out for the first time in over a week. 

but what if im not good enough

just do what feels right kid, dont have regrets. 

and he knows.... he knows what he want. who he wants to reach. his goal right now is not so much a dream, but he could see it becoming that. dancing has grown on him, he likes to dance. it’s almost more fun than cooking, but for whatever reason he’s having so much trouble admitting any of this. he doesn’t know why he can’t just say ‘hey, i want to be an idol--i want to dance’--although, maybe he does know. 

you’re nothing like your brother, he’d fit into all that. you dont fit anywhere, you do nothing. 

( there has been a voice in his head for weeks now, one that sounds suspiciously like his father, that whispers to him how worthless his effort is. how he should give up. he always gives up--- why doesn’t he just give up on this. after all, he’s a lazy kid, he has no drive for anything. he just makes messes and doesn’t care who he hurts )

even in the last week when he was trying to pretend he hated to dance, when he slipped back into bad habits and found himself needing to be picked up twice by his hyungs for different reasons and ended up scolded three times--four if you count inho and sungho as two-- and told himself this is all you’re worth, hyunjoon. when he cried for the fifth time in one week, five times more than he has cried in the last year, and wanted to do nothing more than just implode and not deal with anything--and he kind of did. flashes of harsh words, hard hits, bruises that would last to this day. in all that time he told himself, this isn’t you. this is who you are, why are you doing this. why can’t he just stop.

he told himself. you’re not a dancer--you’re not a chef---you can’t even pretend to care about anything--before he said fuck it and he found himself back at orions practice room.  found himself spending hours sweating out his anger in dance after dance until he collapsed onto the floor in exhausted laughter. grinning like he hasn’t in days, feeling lighter than he has in days. and he finally thought--okay, maybe this is me. 

he worked on a new dance that night, going out and performing it on his own instead of with the rest of the dance crew. he just needed to do this himself. 

he still feels the sting of being cut the first episode. 

he knows he doesn’t have the experience or talent that most had on the show, but to be cut mostly for his age was more hurtful than being cut for literally sucking at everything. he’d rather they tell him he would never make it as a idol or that his dancing stinks, than for him to be cut for his age. it’s so minor--if anything his age was his advantage. it gives the company time to mold him how they want or need. and maybe he’s bitter over that. maybe he’s annoyed that there’s still someone on the show who wasn’t even two months older yet he’s on the show, and hyunjoon isn’t.

OKAY, so he’s a lot bitter. 

but it’s not often hyunjoon finds something he actually really feels a connection too. he found cooking when he was young, and pokemon, but other than that he kind of just floats around. its why he got into partying and smoking. it was something to do. something to keep himself occupied and to keep his mind off everything. honestly. if it hadn’t been for inho and sungho, hyunjoon might have slipped into harder stuff. he was on the verge of going back into that world and the kid knew people who were into some heavy shit. it wouldn’t have been hard. 

maybe he doesn’t really realize how close he was to being unreachable. maybe he doesn’t see the danger he as putting himself in. hyunjoon has never been one to care for his own well being. he followed what his friends were doing. he followed whatever seemed to be the best path to just keep his mind working. or to numb everything out. 

dancing helped. 

that could be why he really likes it so much. not only does it give him a connection with a good handful of his friends, but he can focus on a routine and on nothing else. his mind running through the motions leaving it now time to fuck him over. dancing helped--dancing was fun. dancing is what he wants to do. to dance alone, with his friends, or even complete strangers. hyunjoon just wants to dance. 

and he was going to show them all that he was more than just some kid. that he wasn’t doing this because he wanted that five seconds of fame. that dancing means more, this show means more.

he tried cute. he tried to play off his age and go for what everyone expects of a fifteen year old. but maybe that had been his first mistake. because hyunjoon ( no matter what haknyeon or hongseok say ) is not a cute person. he doesn’t do aegyo or throw cute smiles around that curve his eyes just right. he doesn’t hold up finger hearts, or wear bright colors. he’s dark clothing, and monotone words. he’s sarcastic remarks that come out of the blue because he hasn’t spoken in over two hours. he’s holding his hyungs hand but pretending nothing is happening because the attention would scare him off. he’s subtle and blunt and closed off all at the same time. he shouldn’t have tried to be so far off from what he is. 

the wild card event is another chance to prove himself not only to the judges on mga, but also to himself that he is more than his dad says. that’s he’s more than a kid with his head full of silly ideas. to prove to himself that this isn’t a bad path to do down. that hyunjoon just needs to work harder and put in more effort. and then he’ll get there. it’s like trying to bake the perfect cake. sloppy mixing will get a result but not the one you want. 

he arrives on time, he gets ready. he’s not nervous, not like he was the first time. his expression is blank, but there’s a glint in his eye. he’s ready. he wants on that stage and regardless of what the results are, he wants to dance--no--he wants to perform. even if he doesn’t make it back onto mga, hyunjoon will be happy just to draw a reaction out of someone. 

he had shared part of his lyrics of choice with guanlin. texting the older boy rather vaguely to ask his opinion. he didn’t tell guanlin though that he was going to try for the wild card thing. he didn’t even bring up that it was lyrics he sent. he wanted to make a splash, and guanlin had to be kept in the dark. he would treat the older to ice cream or something later. 

“heo hyunjoon, thank you for the second chance.” is all he says once on stage, bowing at his waist politely. but his expression is blank, his voice is even. there’s no shake or tremble like there had been. he’s not scared like he had been. before he hadn’t been sure what he was doing on this stage. he hadn’t known what he was doing on the mga. it had all been impulsive and done without thinking and hyunjoon hadn’t been ready.

this time is different. 

the music starts, a simple back beat sounding very much like the tune of ariana grande no tears left to cry. hyunjoon is relaxed as he starts instantly into a rap. a surprise, as he had said so himself that he isn’t much of a performer outside dancing. the rap is a self composed one too. rough, and raw, and he’s on the slower side. but emotional. a mix of korean and chinese to show off his language skills. 

he keeps himself relaxed, keeps his expression even and his voice soft--a touch on the raspy side. aiming for the almost defeated look. trying to fit with the lyrics he has for his rap, which is all too easy as hyunjoon himself is a rather tired, and defeated looking person. the faded bruises on his cheek and jaw--though covered in makeup--would attest to the defeated part. 

he raps like he’s reading a poem. he raps like he’s trying to explain himself to the judges, and to his parents who probably wouldn’t watch this. he raps like he’s trying to convince himself this is where he belongs. his tone never falters. there’s not one emotion in his tone because he’s speaking with so many. contained anger, bitterness, unease, confusion, excitement, acceptance--he’s trying to portray his ambition to be here. the time he put in to actually create his own rap. actually consulting students in school who he knows are writers--or at least into the writing. it was hard to find the words to get across what he wanted.

especially when he didn’t even know what he wanted. 

but he thinks he has it down now. he knows how to feel for this. knows what he’s supposed to look like when talking--rapping--these lines. his body moving with ease as he goes from line to line. smoothly flowing through the transitions--practiced ease--and fluctuating his tone, emphasizing the words when needed. even the switch from korean to chinese was nice. 

too young im told too young to hold and face this path all on my own

so here’s my shot in the dark here’s the chance I shouldn’t take the chance pushed out of my sight and when I dive in again just let me sink this is my time

and sometimes you have to lose it all sometimes you have to face that wall even when i’m scared to death--scared to be alone i face that wall, and scared to death of letting go--to fall apart and be alone

he wonders if ricky would see this. empty enigma and ricky have always been the biggest influences in him wanting to peruse this. seeing ricky at the idol class had really ignited that childhood dream. but its different now. 

before he just wanted to be with ricky. now he wants this for himself--he wants to be able to look at himself and say you did you’re best and even if he doesn’t make it far. even if he goes back to his dream of cooking ( still a really good dream ) hyunjoon wouldn’t be angry. he tried. he did. thats all anyone can ask of him. he’s trying every day to be better. and not just in dancing or rapping. but in everything. in his delinquent behavior as sungho calls it. he wants to be good. 

he knows what it feels like to fall apart. 

i hold my breath and take the dive release my grip this is my next try  i’ve got to take this leap of faith and trust in a self that i don’t know 

and who am i to say these things i still just know this one thing that i’ve got no tears left to cry 

about 30 seconds of his rap, the music picks up and the actual ariana song begins to play and he breaks into dance. his movements are sharper, but he still flows through each movement easily. with practiced ease. a smirk had pulled across his face as he started to dance. and he makes sure to make eye contact with a few of the judges when he can. belaying to them that he knows he’s young. but that doesn’t make him any less of a good contestant than the others on the show. that he can improve too, and his age is only going to allow him to get better and better. 

he knows he probably shouldn’t lowkey try and challenge the ceo’s especially since they’re the ones who decide who stays on the show and who doesn’t. but hyunjoon doesn’t really care anymore. they cut him once, what does it matter? there’s only two outcomes here. they shove him back onto the show, or they kick him out again. either way. he’s proud of this performance.

his dances comes to an end just milliseconds under the two minute make. his bangs sticking to his face a little thanks to sweat, only showing how hard he had actually danced. how much effort he put into trying to make a point. because thats what he wanted. to prove himself--to prove he got better, that he wsa improving. and he would only continue to improve. just like gordon ramsay sunbaenim says, he has to keep at it to get better. he’s such a good cook these days because he spends so much time cooking.

the same it about to be said for dancing. hyunjoon is going to improve. he’s going to work on it himself, and get better and better and better. he would catch up to everyone on the show, to his hyungs already trainee, to his idols who have been in this world for so long, catch up to his father who thinks he’ll never make himself anything. he would catch up to himself and show himself that yes, hyunjoon, you are worth something more. and that maybe his dreams are allowed to change because he is young.

he’s young, and he’ll embrace that. after all, he has room to grow. 

“thank you for your time!” 

[hadestudy]

hey! do you have adhd (i'm assuming you do cuz of ur bio but yeah)? i have it and i am finding it super hard to stay focused when studying, and especially in class :( do u have any tips? i get quite good grades but i feel like if i focused more in class (i do try but like after 20mins my brain starts to struggle) it would be even better ah adhd is making year 11 pretty hard

hi! yes, i do have adhd!

so what helps for me when it comes to studying is the pomodoro technique!!!!! that is probably the sole reaon i can turn in anything on time lmao. and try to study in different ways to keep things easier and interesting and match your executive function and concentration for the day (it fluctuates for us with adhd, meaning that one day your focus and executive function can be great and the other its can s u c k). watch movies on the subject on youtube, read textbooks using the pomodoro technique, make flashcards, listen to audiobooks and synthesized readings of texts using claroread (and if possible, listen to an audiobook of your textbook!!) dramatize, record your own voice reading your notes out loud and listen to them while taking a walk, etc etc.

in class i always sit at the same desk at the very front. its great because 1) no new distractions if its the same ol desk and 2) if im in the front i dont get distracted by people in front of me and 3) when the teacher and the whiteboard (in my case) is right in front of me i feel obliged to be focused (or at least not look at my phone or whatnot) out of respect for the teacher and if i zone out i still have the material right before my eyes!! it helps a lot. you can also ask someone to share their notes with you at the end of class to make sure you havent missed anything and maybe give them a coffee or snack for their help?

i also bring something to stim with and that doesnt make a lot of sound (i dont want to bother the other students!!). maybe something with a nice texture to fiddle with.

lastly, i take meds to help with concentration. this works for me personally and if you dont want to or have the opportunity to its 100% ok of course!

and!! its okay to zone out or have a bad day concentration-wise. its just how your brain works! being hard on yourself will only make you feel bad and do absolutely nothing with your brain function- it will stay as it is but your confidence will not. i wish you all the best and i hope this helped!!

[theunknown-ericfanfiction]

Unexpected: Part 36

The Unknown Chapter Index.

Unexpected Chapter Index

“Look, I have the solution to our problems” Morgan said as she led Eric towards the bedroom “well… Your problem”

“What problem?”

“The ‘no babies in our bed problem’” she said giving him a look from above her shoulder, Eric nodded in recognition, giving in that it was indeed a problem that he had.

They walked to the bedroom and Eric’s eyes set on their bed, now it had an extra crib, but one of the sides was open and it was connected to the bed.

“Ta-da” she sang as she motioned at it “what do you think?”

Eric placed his hand on it, looking down to find Aleks sleeping in it. He was a week old, and with every passing day Eric and Morgan found themselves more and more enamored with their baby boy, they surprised at every little thing he did.

“Where did you get this?”

“Mikaela? You know her? She used it with her baby boy for months, and she’s not using it any more so, she lended it to me until she decides what’s she gonna do with it”

“But he’s not gonna use it for months” he eyed Morgan.

“I know, three months tops, he’s going to overgrow it, he’s a big baby”

“And then he’s going to his own bedroom”

“That’s right baby” Morgan nodded convinced. “Also, look at what I can do now” Morgan threw her hands on Eric’s chest and hugged herself to him, tiptoeing and feeling Eric’s arms around her waist “I can hold you close again” she said, Eric smirked at her and downed his lips to hers. Before, Morgan’s stomach prevented her to press her chest to Eric’s like she used to, but now that she was getting slimmer and slimmer, she was excited she could finally hug her husband.

“I had missed this” he said over her lips, Morgan bit down his lower one and smiled.

“Let’s get some dinner and go to bed, you must be tired” she said leading her hands on his neck. Eric nodded and followed her.

Morgan had a baby monitor in the kitchen. While she heated the dinner in the oven, Eric sat in the kitchen island while watching Morgan move around.

Morgan had an amazing control of her appearance, she never looked what she actually was, she never looked tired after having no sleep the night before, and she defenetly didn’t looked like a woman who had just given birth a week ago. He stomach had flattened out a lot, and she looked like she was 3 months pregnant again. He stomach did a little bump below her belly button.

She glanced at him and smiled

“What are you looking at?” She said bending down to check the food in the oven.

“I’m looking at you, are you sure you popped a baby recently?”

Morgan chuckled and pulled out the food, she uncovered the meat and vegetables from the tin foil that covered them and served it on a plate.

“Your son is sucking the life out of me, you know that babies usually loose weight after they are born? Well, when I took him to the doctor this morning, she said Aleks weights now what he weighted when he was born”

Eric had missed the first health check, but Morgan didn’t mind at all, if anything they didn’t told her anything she didn’t already know. But Eric would have to deal with the vaccination, Morgan was not up for that.

Eric’s hand moved to her thigh as he ate. It was a habit.

“Also, I asked when I can get my birth control shot and she said I can start when he’s six weeks old, so, you’ll have to wear condoms”

Eric chuckled

“You asked her when you could start having sex?”

“Yeah” she said with an obvious tone “all that shit they say in the books like 'post partum depression, and baby blues and adjusting to motherhood?’ None of that, I’m happy our baby is with us, and I know you’ve been on a dry streak for months now” she leaned in and kissed his cheek “I’ve got to look up for my man too”

Eric smirked down at her and returned to his plate

“I was thinking, it’s been a week since Aleks was born, tomorrow we should give him a bath”

“That sounds good” he replied, Morgan nodded and waited for him to say anything else.

“You’ll be here right?” She asked giving him a little frown

“Of course I’ll be here” he said shrugging his shoulders “I’ll hold him and you’ll put soap on him and the likes”

Morgan smiled and nodded, leaning again to kiss Eric.

“After that I do have to, you know, continue with faction management”

“Yeah, of course” Eric nodded as he returned to his plate, Morgan looked at her plate and cleared her throat

“And… When do you think I can go back to work?”

Eric gave her a quick glance as he continued eating

“I don’t now baby, maybe in a few more months, I don’t think I can hold off Aleks away from you for a long time, he still needs to eat regularly and he might get anxious if he doesn’t sense you’re around”

“I can take him with me if I’m doing work in the compound”

“You could” he said nodding at her “we’ll see, later”

“I dont want you to stress out, I want to help you” Morgan leaned in, Eric held her by the waist and rubbed her back

“I know you want to help, and you will. Just not now”

Morgan silently nodded and received a kiss in her temple.

She looked at the baby monitor as the lights began to flicker to show the fluctuations of sound, hearing the tinniest wail that Aleks produced when he woke up.

“You go, I’ll take care of the dishes.” He said taking Morgan by the waist and pulling her away from the sink

“Or you can take the baby”

“He’s probably hungry”

“He probably just wants a cuddle” she said pushing Eric towards the bedroom as she turned the tap to let the water flow.

Eric was still trying to get accostumed to hold Aleks, he felt like he was just too fragile for him to carry, and he knew Morgan was the only one who could calm him down. He also knew that Morgan just wanted him to spend time with Aleks, but Eric sometimes just needed to watch, watch him breath in and out slowly, catch the smallest smile while he slept.

When he reached the bedroom and the crib, Aleks wailed louder, Eric held him by the back of his neck and his lower back as he lifted him slowly.

“Why are we so fussy huh?” He asked looking down at him, Aleks’ eyes were open, and his cries died down. Eric still couldn’t believe he had that power, the power that he thought only Morgan would have. Aleks always calmed down when Eric talked to him, Aleks knew it was his dad talking to him and he was there to take care of him and protect him.

Eric had also read that Aleks could see clearly only if he was ten inches away from the object he wanted to see, so Eric always tried to hold him close, that way Aleks could start getting accostumed to Eric’s face.

Eric cradled Aleks in his chest, making sure his body was covered in the blanket, he began to sway gently to the sides, his free hand moving to Aleks chest to tap on it gently. One of Aleks hands held onto Eric’s pinky finger with a vice grip, making Eric smile. That was the smallest gesture that could bring Eric to his knees.

He looked up to see Morgan laying on the doorway, looking at Eric hold his baby

“See, he just wanted a cuddle” she said walking to them.

Eric could feel Aleks perk up in his arms at the sound of Morgan’s voice. He looked down to find his eyes looking up in the distance

“How’s my little boy” she said standing next to Eric, reaching her hand to caress Aleks cheek.

Aleks smiled at the touch and closed his eyes, Eric moved side to side with him to make him sleep

“He loves being with you” Morgan said looking at Eric

“Yeah, for short periods of time”

“Still, doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy to just look at you” Morgan looked down the find Aleks asleep “although I should have fed him” she said touching the sides of her breasts.

“Well, he’ll be awake in ten minutes” Eric moved to carefully place Aleks down in the crib again, making sure he was actually asleep.

Morgan began her routine of lathering herself with creams before bed, some of them to prevent stretch marks, some of them to return the elasticity to her skin.

Eric just laid in the bed, waiting for Morgan to finish and lay beside him to sleep. His eyes were closed, but he still heard the movement around him as Morgan stood next to him.

“Am I still somewhat desirable to you?”

Eric opened his eyes and looked at her, she was standing next to him with a defeated look on her face, she had put on a night dress that accentuated her big breasts, her post pregnancy belly was nowhere to be found. He motioned at her to come closer, she took a short step to him and turned around when he motioned at her to.

Eric lifted up the night dress to uncover her backside, running a hand up her thigh and to her ass cheek, he squeezed and then slapped it

“Very much so” he said, Morgan gave him a little smile and turned to him again

“Are you sure?” She said looking down at her linked hands

“You’re still a 10, my 10” he said talking her hand and pulling her to him, making Morgan finally climb in the bed, her leg came to on top of his thigh as she scooted closer, Eric held her by the waist, feeling Morgan’s body mold to his

“Can I ask you a question?” Eric gave her a little hum of approval “I mean it’s kind of personal”

“You’re my wife Morgan” he said, Morgan pulled back and held herself upwards on her elbow

“I know, I’m just saying that if you don’t want to tell me it’s fine” Eric looked at her, to make her continue “how many girlfriends have you had?”

Eric looked up to the ceiling, Morgan waited until he responded

“And by girlfriend you mean…”

“Someone that you fucked exclusively for a while”

“Like more than two weeks in a row?” “Yeah, sure” she said unsure of the limitations Eric had to consider a girl a girlfriend.

“If so then just two, including you”

“Including me?” She asked incredulous “have you always been this not trusty to people?”

“No. You live and you learn, I learned to not trust anyone. People would do anything to get the upper hand on you, especially women”

“Sounds like she did some shit to you” she said placing her hand on his chest and caressing it slowly.

“She did” he said closing his eyes, Morgan still watched him hoping he continued “do you really want to know?” He opened one of his eyes to look at her.

“Only if you want to tell me”

“I don’t want to talk about her”

“Okay” she gave him a little nod and placed her head back on his shoulder, he pulled her close and sighed, closing his eyes to sleep “did you kill her?”

“Indirectly” he said, his hand moving down to Morgan’s lower back, cupping her ass cheek and bringing her closer to lay her body on top of his.

Morgan remained quiet while her head bobbed up and down as Eric’s chest rose and fell with every breath, her hands quietly moving to touch his arm, tracing a finger on his tattoos.

Eric’s hand tapped her butt cheek as Morgan smiled

“Go to sleep” he murmured, Morgan hugged herself closer to his chest as she smiled

“I love you” Morgan kissed his chest and closed her eyes.

“I love you too”

∆

“So, do you want to hold him or do you want to do the other things?”

“I don’t know what the other things are so I guess I’ll hold him”

Eric pulled his sleeves up to past his elbow, looking at how Morgan took the diaper out of Aleks body. The little one was awake and alert. Morgan had filled a little tub someone in the faction had gifted her, and had placed it in the counter of the big bathroom.

“OK” she said as she sighed and placed her hands on her waists “let’s see if you like getting a bath as much as we do”

She looked at Eric as he lifted Aleks from the counter, holding him by the back of the neck and slowly descending him towards the bath.

Aleks flinched at the initial touch of the water, and Eric had to submerge his forearm along with Aleks.

“Are we good?” He asked trying to look at Morgan

“Well, he’s not crying, so I guess we’re good” she said taking a little plastic cup and submerging it in the water, one of her hands covered Aleks eyes while the other dumped the water on his head slowly.

They heard Aleks take a sharp breath, but he didn’t cry

“I think he loves it” she said smiling and dumping some more water to dampen his hair

“I would love it to if I had you giving me a bath”

“Shut up, I always bath you when we shower”

Eric smiled and looked at Aleks’ wandering eyes, Morgan squeezed some shampoo on her hand and slowly rubbed it in his head.

Aleks slowly formed a little smile as Morgan massaged the shampoo on his head, smiling herself at how her baby was enjoying his first bath.

“Okay now I’ll hold him and you can put some soap on him?”

This time Eric turned to her, full panic face

“What? No, I’m too rough for him”

“Come on!” She said placing her hand below Aleks’ neck and pushing Eric’s away “you have to be part of this experience too”

“I already was” Morgan chuckled “fine where’s the soap?”

Morgan motioned with her head to the counter as she dampen Aleks’ chest  and shoulders, Eric grabbed the bottle and squeezed some into a little sponge.

“And yes, you’ll have to touch his dick, but it’s not gay if it’s your kid”

“Shut up” he said, making Morgan laugh again, she saw him smile at the joke as he rubbed the soap on his hands, slowly he began to rub him “I didn’t know that my relationship with dicks was going to be cleaning shit out of a tiny one several times a day”

“Shut up, you haven’t cleaned his shits yet”

“Yes I have” he fought back while cleaning the soap with water

“Name one time”

“You were sleeping”

“Ah yeah, sure, I was sleeping”

“You were” he said leaning to bite her shoulder as she laughed and tried to kick him away.

“Okay, now bring the towel” Eric did as commanded and sprawel the towel in his chest, quickly covering Aleks when Morgan took him out of the bath “all done baby” she touched his little nose and smiled

“I’ll change him while you clean the bathroom” Morgan looked at him with a rose eyebrow then shrugged her shoulder “might as well do all by myself”

“Shut up” she said rolling her eyes and turning around, Eric chuckled and walked to Aleks’ bedroom, Morgan had already laid out the clothes, and Eric quickly dressed him. He the put a little beanie on him and covered him with a blanket

“All done” he said as he took Aleks in his arms and walked to Morgan, just as she finished to swipe down the floor “I’ll leaving in the crib and head out”

“Roger” she said. Eric did, and before he left and Morgan picked Aleks up to feed him he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her lips

“See you later honey”

Morgan smirked and kissed his lips again while letting out a sigh.

Eric let her go, looking at how her eyes screamed at him how much she loved him, waving goodbye at him as he walked backwards towards the exit.

[foursprout-blog]

Just Please Don’t Forget Me

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/just-please-dont-forget-me/

Just Please Don’t Forget Me

God & Man

I’m afraid to think there will come a day where you don’t know me.

It’s been 7 months since we’ve spoken and 13 since I’ve seen you. We’ve gone longer than that before. But this feels too long. Too final.

I close my eyes and can still see that lopsided smile. Do you remember mine? Does it ever haunt your brain’s inner corridors, leaving an echo across a space it shouldn’t be in?

That dimple you said you could drown in is still here. Since you, no one has left a smile on my face so big, to bring it out as deep to be able to. No one has loved it as much as you.

My jeans are a little snug. I’d worry about not being aesthetically pleasing to anyone else, but not with you. I imagine you licking your lips, cupping your hand around my backside, then squeezing. You always did say my ass was your favorite part. You always did become weak at the knees of my curves. You admired me whatever the sight, really, on whatever dip or peak I was at on the fluctuating graph.

If you saw me now would it be the same? Would you look at me with the same smoldering eyes? Would you want me? Would it take every physical restraint not to act on it? Would it ache you to even have to look away? I must admit, even the thought brings me immeasurable pleasure and pain (in a way only ever you expertly could).

In this drought, it’s got me finally feeling rain kiss my skin, just imagining making eye contact with you again. Would you recognize the shade of my eyes, even from afar, would you see them there so dark but know the amber you’d come to face if you walked several feet my way? And if you did, would my voice sound strange or would you drown in the comfort of its familiarity?

I know I said I didn’t want to burn, not for you, not anymore. And I’m sorry, love, I know I said it to you in a poem. It’s just that I know letting go of whatever this thing between us is wouldn’t be so easy any other way. I know I said it hurt, but you know, you know, I’ve always loved those things the most.

I’ve always loved you the most.

(I’m still burning. I’m still hurting.)

I know there may be things I don’t know that others may be more familiar with. Like how you fold your clothes, how long your showers take and what time you prefer to eat dinner. And you may not know that I tend to keep my clean laundry in a pile before I ever get around to it, but when I do, I fold it symmetrically and impeccably. That I hang all my dresses according to length, which is directly relative to the occasion, and that my blouses are hung according to color and season. You may not know that the length of my showers is dependent upon my mood and that some nights I prefer to sit in the bath and just not think about existing. That I sometimes skip dinner, that I sometimes eat it twice, but I always have to eat it watching one of my TV shows and preferably with a glass of wine. That it doesn’t matter the time, because when I eat it I always wonder if you’d like what I had prepared, what my life would be like if I could cook not for one, not for two, but for you.

We may not know these mundane little things about each other. But we know each other in ways we’ve never let ourselves be in front of other people. We’ve given up control, lost it, and taken it, to and from each other. We’ve spent nights more decadent and uninhibited than most people could even fantasize. We’ve indulged in each other’s bodies like beasts and never felt as human. We’ve kissed and walked through Eden. You’ve roamed my skin and discovered universes nobody else knows exist. I’ve made you see colors non-existent in this world each time I so much as laid a fingertip on your skin.

Being naked was never enough. We needed more. More intimacy, more bare. We unzipped our flesh and told each other things most people keep secret. I let you hear words I held lodged in my throat. Words I was afraid would ever escape my mouth. You still kissed me. You made me feel unashamed.

I may not know when your alarm goes off or how many times you press snooze, but I know you. I know you in ways they never will. The things she hates, are things I love, things I know I could accommodate in my life.

I may be unfamiliar with your nighttime ritual, but I know what you like to do with that black leather belt you wear around your waist. I know what sounds you make, how your breathing becomes ragged as it’s striking through the air. I also know you don’t mind laying on your back and pretending you’ve given up power. I know that little spot on your ear that makes you shiver and roll your eyes to the back of your head. I know that dark look in your eyes and that you’re going to lick your lips before you bite. I know you’ve never called out anyone’s name the way you have mine.

You may not know I stay up later than I should and hate myself the next day, but you know the color and shape of my soul. You know the haunted house that is this body. That there’s this girl that sometimes screams and screams inside it. You know my vibrancy. But you also know I’ve given melancholy a spare key. You know where to touch me and how to touch me. You know the things that make my body shiver. You know I’m scared to let go of control but I need to. That I want to. You know I bruise easily, but that it gives me a thrill. You’re well aware I’ve always loved the things that hurt. You know how I can’t keep my eyes open and the way I bring my legs together and curl my toes when I’m slipping into ecstasy. You know nothing gets me there more than a hand around my neck and a thumb on that particular vein.

Only we know that feeling we have only ever gotten when together. That heat. How in those moments our hearts beat together and in sync.

The truth is we could never not know each other. I guess what I mean to say is please don’t forget.