#i feel. tired and very lazy when i think about the actual action of studying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pure-kirarin · 4 years ago

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Sabo - Law - Marco x Procrastinating Reader (Motivation for studying)

A/N : This was requested by @onepieceya . Thanks for requesting ! <3 This is for every competitive procrastinator. Here are some headcanons to motivate you to study. This is your sign : START NOW ! <3 These tips are verified by me.

SABO

-When Sabo notices that you are procrastinating too much, his « big brother mode » activates. He will do everything in his power to give you the push you need.

-« Action comes before motivation ». He is a firm believer in this approach. He will convince you to take the first step. « Just do it for five minutes alright ? » Actually, this technique works well because once you start studying for five minutes you get into the momentum.

-And that was part of Sabo's plan of course.

-If he feels like you are a lost case that day, he will suggest to go study together in the library or in a coffee shop.

-He would even pack your things for you and drag you out as you find a million excuses. Little by little you will start cherishing those moments and « study dates » will become a habit for both of you.

-Even when you study alone, your thoughts wander and reach your favourite blond. You think of how he looks so focused, totally consumed in his studies. You end up associating this moment with him and that alone is enough motivation for you to get your school work done.

-He likes to look over your shoulder to check what you are reading or studying. Whenever you finish a task he ruffles your hair and encourages you « Well done baby~ See ? You were just being lazy. You are actually very efficient when you put your mind to it ! »

-He encourages you to recite your classes for him every night. « So, tell me, what did you study today ? Oh, history ? Sounds interesting. Tell me more about it. » He listens carefully, but sometimes he falls asleep as you are talking.

-Despite being very busy, he never shows it to you and does his best to motivate you. That alone is a big motivation since Sabo is hardworking.

-He is especially an expert in philosophy and is very good at argumenting. He will be of a big help for these subjects. But why does he only quote Marx and Engels ?

LAW

-« It's not going to be easy, but it's going to be worth it. »

-His approach is stricter and less focused on encouragement than on his knowledge about behavior and learning. He will suggest strategic methods to study smarter and not harder.

-Sometimes it feels a bit infantilizing, because he will create the best environment for you to start studying.

-« -Y/N-ya, no tumblr for you till you get your work done. ». Yes, he will even take your phone away if it means for you to focus. And don't try to be sneaky because this man will be ruthless and even keep your phone till your exams are over.

-He will be sure to keep an eye on you, so you will be studying in his office. He has to make sure that you don't get distracted looking at a wall or something.

-Studying in his office or in the submarine is an amazing experience. It's extremely peaceful ; the scraping of his pen against the paper and his steady breathing helps you focus.

- « I will count till three » method. How does it work ? Law counts till three and if you are not studying when he is done you're in for a bad moment.

-He knows that studying in intervals is more effective so he will use the 50 minutes studying and 10 minute break method. Everytime the session ends he will check your work and encourage you with a « Good girl » or « Good job ».

-Expect a lot of coffee, but never after 2PM for you. His caffeine addiction and insomnia makes him extremely careful with your habits. He doesn't want you to be tired for your exams and knows how important it is to sleep well.

-He gives you lectures on the importance of sleep and healthy diet for learning and memory. All of this while skipping meals and sleeping less than 3 hours each night.

-He will make a study plan for you and make sure that you follow it. He will even follow your progress by sharing a common drive where you enter your daily tasks.

-Law secretely loves correcting tests (or especially loves circling things with a red pen and giving bad grades) so whenever you're taking a mock exam, doing some assignment or writing a paper, he will check your answers and give you a grade.

-This will make you extremely motivated, of course, you don't want to have the paper covered with red every time.

-You will never know what failure tastes like if you follow this man's advice. So be like Law, study smarter.

MARCO

-« Work hard and play harder » That's how Marco approaches studying. Being older means being wiser. He knows how challenging it can be sometimes to be proactive. He will usually tell you that in order to get to enjoy your leasure time, you have to start by working hard.

-He believes in your potential doesn't want you to regret your decisions later on. He will not be too intrusive in your studying process. He would let you do it your way but he will be always there to encourage you.

-« I really trust you- yoi ! Make me proud of you, al‘right baby ?» This is the biggest motivation actually. The fear of disappointing Marco will make you study harder.

-Everytime you get a good grade he is the first person that you think of. He gets really impressed and hugs you tight. He likes to take you out to a restaurant to celebrate your success.

-He cheers for you and encourages you daily. With a soft tap on your shoulder his kind words never leave your head « Keep going ! I believe in you. You're almost there doll. »

-Marco wouldn't mind rewarding you with gifts for your success. « Let's make a deal, I promise that I would get you that dress you were crazy about last time if you pass your exams. ». He has that sugar daddy side to him.

-He would always remind you to take breaks whenever he finds you studying for longer times.

-Marco would bring you morning coffee every.single.day.

-Meditation with Marco every morning for five minutes : Mental health is extremely important. He doesn't want you to get overworked so he makes sure to help you take preventive measures.

-Giving you massages, reminding you to stretch, bringing you a glass of water : Marco is a really caring partner. That alone is a motivation to keep going and never give up.

#Law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #study motivation #sabo x reader #revolutionary sabo #sabo #one piece sabo #one piece imagines #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #marco the phoenix x reader #one piece marco #one piece marco headcanons

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a-clowns-words · 3 years ago

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88? Any ship you want :)

150 random writing prompts

aryes ily sorry this took me 3 fucking hrs and it's still lazy

#88 “Stop doing that.” with tdbk :)

oh yeah and i played around with pronouns in this one so

it/its shouto and they/them katsuki

Katsuki kept their eyes violently focused on the page. They had to. If they took their eyes off their textbook now, when their study partner was insistent on being such an oblivious pest, they had a feeling they’d never get them back on it.

Katsuki wasn’t even fully convinced the actions were oblivious. They knew Shouto sometimes fidgeted with things and moved its hands around subconsciously, but tracing Katsuki’s spine back and forth with its left hand while subtly using its heat quirk seemed… Purposeful.

They knew it was a bad idea to stay up studying this late. And studying with their boyfriend never ended in any actual studying, even when it was the one who asked for help.

Just as Katsuki was about to ask if Shouto had any other questions, they felt its warm hand run down their back another time, and a shiver was sent down their spine followed by an irritated grunt.

“Stop doing that,” the blond snapped as they finally tore their eyes away from the page to shoot their boyfriend a glare. What they really wanted to do was lean into Shouto’s touch even further, it was almost like a human heater when it was using its heat quirk at low levels.

Shouto turned to face its partner's fiery red eyes. It tilted its head slightly at Katsuki, as if it didn’t understand what they were saying. “Stop doing what, Katsuki?”

Katsuki narrowed their eyes and opened their mouth to scold Shouto again, but before they could get the chance, its warm hand slid back up their spine, and a noise somewhat similar to a purr escaped instead.

“Bastard… you bastard!” They shouted, their face flushing pink from embarrassment. The worst part was that Shouto was fucking smiling. That smug little shit. “That! Stop fucking doin’ that with your hand!”

“Oh,” Shouto responded, its voice still flat and monotone. “You said you were cold, I was only trying to help.” It shrugged before removing its hand from Katsuki’s back and placing it back on their desk to continue reading, as if it was no trouble at all.

Katsuki kept their eyes on it, they didn’t think Shouto was actually going to stop. Damnit. Now they were cold again.

After a few long moments of just staring at a page, waiting to see if their boyfriend would move its hand back, Katsuki grunted in defeat. Slowly, they pushed themselves closer to Shouto on the floor in front of their wooden desk. Without a word, Katsuki let their head fall against their study partner’s shoulder and immediately felt its quirk heat back up.

“Mhn…” Katsuki hummed while they wrapped their arms around Shouto’s left arm, cuddling up close to it.

Shouto turned its head back towards its partner, tilting its head in the same way as before. “Did you change your mind?” It asked, not in a taunting tone but that was definitely how Katsuki had taken it.

“Shut your damn mouth…” Katsuki grumbled through a yawn. Though they didn’t even make an attempt to pull away, in fact, they pressed up against it closer and closed their eyes against the warmth. “And for your information…yeah I fucking did.”

It only smiled at their response and gently brushed some hair out of the way of Katsuki’s forehead to place a kiss on the cleared area, before Shouto quietly returned to its studying. Though very little was being learned, as it was more preoccupied with keeping its quirk regulated and safe for its tired partner.

#katsuki's fics #prompt asks #ask game #fic ask game #asks #mutual losers #tdbk #todobaku #van's sins ⛓️

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early20sfailingplenty · 3 years ago

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BIG EMOTIONAL HEAVY VENT

TW; implications of r*pe, unhappy home life, wishful thinking ie the sinclairs, bad parenting, emotional neglect i think????

part of why i cling to the sinclairs sm is bc i dont ever really feel LOVED in my life. mum always makes comments which make me feel bad (most recently, “you make really funny noises when you’re uncomfortable *mocks me for two minutes by making the same noises* it’s really cute” after she said, “the only reason it takes me ten minutes to do your hair but it takes you half an hour is because i dont stop when you say it hurts” or “your hair is really dry” and then tells me what to do about it and then gets pissy when i say i don’t want to and makes it out like i’m being lazy) and her partner straight up doesn’t care about me. i tried to show him something today i was proud of (my study desk layout) and he said, “this is a desk?” and just left and my brother (previously my nb sibling) doesn’t really care either and he suffers like i do and i just dont ever feel loved or needed or wanted in my home life.

since i was 15 when i found out that i wasnt made under nice circumstances (you know what i mean) i’ve tried so so hard to be my best self every day so i can make up for how i was made but ive never felt like mum’s proud or like she loves me and today my brother, who’s at his dad’s, phoned up and mum wasn’t even really listening to him and kept eyerolling at me and it’s made me re-realise that she never should have had us and i feel sick and sad and like there’s no point to anything i do because she’s never gonna be proud or anything

and now i’m crying and i just think i cling to the sinclairs bc i truly wanna believe they’d love me for ME. i’d be in a terrible and tragic situation if i lived in ambrose, i know, but if i was very lucky maybe they’d love me or keep me around bc i can cook and clean and i’d be useful and idk i’m just upset and im stressed and i’m scared and i’m crying and i want

bo to say, “oh, darlin’, c’mere” and pull me into him so tightly that all i can do is rest my head in the crook of his neck and he kisses the top of my head and we just stand there like that

vincent to cup the back of my head and bend down to press our foreheads tightly together and make his “mmf” noise bc he can’t get close enough and neither can i

and for lester to cuddle with me and jonesy while we watch one of my favourite films and if i cry, he just sighs gently and tucks me into his side and cracks a joke to make me laugh

i’m just really upset and no one in my house really sees me, i can’t help feeling, and i have to wonder how much i contribute to this situation and if i make it worse than it is or if it IS actually like this bc im always questioning my thoughts and my actions and it is so tiring bc i’m never enough for myself or even for my parents no matter how hard i try. i told mum i only got 4 hours the night before last bc i was up late studying and she said, “you’re an adult, it’s your choice” and YEAH but like ???? that was a good opportunity to say something like being proud???

whether i do or don’t study, she’s never proud or if she is, she never says so i wonder why the fuck i bother but at the same time i bother bc i need to make a good future for myself or i’ll be stuck here in their house forever and nothing scares me more than the thought of becoming my mum. i used to admire her so much and i used to want to be her but nowadays whenever she’s like “you’re so much like me” or her partner tells me i’m like mum, i cringe and feel white hot jolts of fear and i can only think ‘please no’.

idk just since i was 15 ive been more and more aware of how much my mum shouldn’t have been a mum and it makes me feel like i ruined her life so i keep trying to be my best self to compensate but she never seems to notice

and i cant stop crying holy fuck okay that’s enough i just gotta post this, get it outta my hair, then i gotta finish up this stuff i’m working on and if i’m lucky i can go to bed early-ish (before midnight) - gotta be up at 530am for work tomorrow😩

#im looking for some comfort if anyone has any <3 #or some tough love if you think that's needed #whatever you wanna give me #<3

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just-an-aspiring-polymath · 3 years ago

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Hey! I hope you're all doing well. Today I bring you 5 productivity tips, which I think are not the most talked about (though I could be wrong).

Although this is a "top 5", these are in no particular order, it's just the order they came up to my mind. But let's go to the point:

1. Time tracking

This is something I discovered quite recently, and it consists of recording what you do in your day. You can do this either on paper or with an app(there are many, but personally I use Simple Time Tracker, because it also tells you the untracked hours).

Whenever you do a task, write down the time when you started and finished it. At the end of the day/week, you can evaluate how much time did you spend doing what.

However, do not obsess yourself over what you do every single second of your life. Start annotating just a few general things like studying, exercising, social media, etc. And as you feel it necessary, add more things or be more specific.

There are two main reasons why I think this is useful:

Finding out how much time you spend procrastinating might make you more conscious about it, so you'll start doing it less, or at least more mindfully.

You probably heard that you should plan at what time will you do each thing you want to do, but how are you supposed to plan it when you have no idea how long it will take you to finish each task? Of course you can just do it by trial and error, but time tracking might make it easier.

2.Plan at least two days at a time

By now you're probably tired of hearing that you should plan your days in the morning or the night before. I'm not gonna tell you that is bad advice, because it is actually very useful. But I am gonna tell you to take it a step further and plan two days ahead of time. Why?

The idea is that you plan your second day as if you had achieved everything on your first day. That way, you'll feel forced to do those things.

In case something unplanned happens and you can't do everything on your to-do list, you can always make adjustments on your to-do list for the next day, so you shouldn't worry about that.

3.Have a go-to activity

The idea of this is to choose something to do whenever you don't have anything else. Sometimes you're just in "waiting mode" so you don't know what to do to kill time and end up doing nothing. To change this, you can decide to do a simple activity that you enjoy that you consider to be productive anyway. The benefits of this is:

Whenever you are procrastinating a specific task, you can do this go-to activity as a transitioning task. You are more likely to do something if you're already in a productive mode.

As I said, whenever you are stuck with nothing to do, it is a way of making you feel productive.

4. Accountability

Perhaps you already heard this, but you are more likely to do something if you feel the external pressure to do so. It is easy to excuse yourself for not doing stuff, but having to admit that to other people is a completely different thing. That's why if you know that someone is holding you accountable for your actions, you are more likely to do what you said you would do. However, you might find it difficult to find someone to hold yourself accountable, that's why I plan on doing a separate blog about that.

5.Set a minimum/maximum time

This is something I did for myself, and it's mainly meant to be for habits. Basically, for each habit you want to do, set a minimum and maximum time during which you'll perform said activity. The reasons why you should do this are:

It molds to how busy you are. When you have much things to do, you can always fall back on the minimum time and that way not failing your habit.

Same thing for when you're lazy.

Now, the maximum time is aimed at being the most effective. The idea is that you don't spend 5 hours doing one of your habits and then having just 1 hour to do the rest.

Those were all the tips I had for you today. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. Thanks for reading and have an amazing day!

#studyblr #productivity #tips #organization #productivity tips

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philliamwrites · 4 years ago

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One Fool's Heart [Rank 1]

Fandom: Persona 5

Pairing: Akira / Reader, later: Akira / Akechi (one-sided)

Warnings: age difference, consensual underage romance, implied/referenced self-harm, implied/referenced child abuse, references to depression, unreliable narrator, angst, hurt & comfort, p3 cameos, p4 cameos, no persona 5 royal spoilers

Summary: All you wanted was a nice part time job to scrape by. But if you had known how much of a smug sass-master Akira Kurusu would turn out to be, you’d have thought twice about agreeing to tutor him.

Notes: Rank 2 Masterlist

[Rank 1]

when i first saw you the end was soon to bethlehem it slouched and then, it must’ve caught a good look at you

— hozier; nfwmb

The small room reeks of wet fabric and mould.

The steady rumble of the washing machine puts you in a lazy, tired state; the words on the page in front of you merge into a blurry line, the letters shifting and eating each other. Squeezing a study session between your last class and the shitty part-time job at the Wilton Hotel buffet as a way of killing time until your laundry’s ready wasn’t one of your brightest ideas, but it’s the only open window to catch up with a much needed study session.

You’d probably execute it a lot better, were it not for the dim light in the room withholding any possibility to actually see what’s in front of you, and the sound of buzzing cicadas drilling into your head and stopping you from thinking. Everything would be a lot easier if you could do your laundry in your dormitory, but well … you don't feel necessarily responsible for contacting the janitor each time they break.

It’s past 10pm. The small, red numbers on the washer tell you with very lacking interest there are still 13 minutes left before you can buzz off. The night is calm, somewhere outside a cat hisses, and despite it all, you feel strangely at peace. Maybe it's because you’re alone and no one’s talking. Maybe it's because it’s the first time today you can sit and think about nothing at all. Someone tugged your brain into a cozy blanket and accidentally left it there even though there’s all kinds of stuff you should rather focus on. “Well, a break is important,” no one says, because actually, you really can’t afford it, so you slap your brain awake and look back at the page, only to have your eyes fix midway on something else in front of you.

In the doorway of the tiny, cramped Laundromat is a tall guy standing, a wash basket in his arms. Behind round glasses, dark eyes scan the room for a free machine, before they land on you, and he just remains there for a moment as if he needs your permission to enter. You give him a lazy wave, and eventually his legs move and he decides to take the machine farthest away from you, loading it with wrinkled clothes. “Stupid dormitory washers, right? You see the janitor all the time on his break, but when does he actually fix something,” you open the conversation, happy to have something to distract your mind after unsuccessfully convincing yourself to continue studying. He throws a quick glance your way, then nods.

Settling back, your eyes scan the page and the yellow marked sentences, but they don’t make any sense to you. Cognitive processes involved in the updating of current task goals, in their shielding against irrelevant information and action tendencies, and in the dynamic switching between goals or foci of attention … Sure. Whatever. You yield, snap the magazine shut and shift your focus back on the guy. He’s lanky with slumped shoulders (it’s such a bad posture you can feel your grandma—may her not so gentle soul rest in peace, claw at her grave to get out and smack him over the head), and a mop of curly, black hair that’s probably never made acquaintance with a comb. Judging from how he avoids looking at you, he seems like the shy, nerdy type unable to start a conversation with a girl because all he knows are the 2D models of young, pretty girls in his video games. At least he washes his own clothes and doesn’t live with his mom. Or maybe he does and he’s just starting to look after himself. You stop with your shameless prejudices as he finally manages to look up at you, considering you with reserved but palpable interest until his eyes fall on the magazine on your lap.

You wave it in his direction like a leaflet. “Really boring, if you ask me. But our professor swears the Advances in Cognitive Psychology has the best articles in the field.”

He keeps staring at you, and you realize he’s probably giving two shits about whatever you were reading.

“You’re a first year?” you ask, shifting the conversation back to him, because people like to talk about themselves. “I promise, college doesn’t suck later as much as at the beginning.” What a blatant lie, shame on you, your family and your non-existent cow.

He hesitates, then nods. “Is it interesting?” he asks, and your first instinct is to say, “So you can speak,” but instead you just shrug. If he wants to play a game of back-and-forth, then you accept the challenge. “Sort of. If you’re into that stuff.”

He hums approvingly like it’s self-evident, then leans his slim hips against one of the dryers. “So you’re a psychology student?”

“Look at you, Sherlock.” You smile at him. “Guilty as charged. What about you?”

“Law,” he immediately replies, and you try not to show the surprise on your face because you definitely expected something like game design or IT.

“Cool,” you say, because that’s what one is supposed to say about every mjoen even when it isn’t. Not that law isn’t cool. It’s just … it isn’t something you want to dwell on. “Then I guess I’ll see you either on the street, Mr. Police Officer, or in the courtroom. Hopefully not because I’m the one charged, but…” You gesture with your hand like that might actually help. “You know.”

He nods, though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t, because even you don’t know what the hell you’re saying (who’s the one unable to hold conversations now, huh).

Luckily, the soft beeping of your washer signals that you can unload your laundry and go. You smack the magazine on top of your wet clothes and heave the basket up. Unable to wave him, you just awkwardly nod and make your way past the law student. “Well, maybe we’ll see each other around,” you say but you’re pretty sure you won’t because you a) don’t know where he studies, and b) don’t know him.

But he goes along, and nods, hands tugged deep inside the pockets of his black jeans. “Maybe.”

--------

The clinking of cutlery and chatter around you cuts through your napping plans, which aren't even well-conceived in the first place (really, sleeping in the canteen is a dumb idea, don’t do it), so you have to settle for the worst doze in the history of mankind. With your head on the table and eyes closed, you pick up a few conversations varying from gossip about professors, complaints about classes and work, and worst of all: desperate tries to have intellectual and mind blowing discussions no one really cares about. That's college for you.

Suddenly, there’s a thud and the table shakes after someone walks into it. You flinch, your head snaps up at the soft “Fuck, ” as you watch Yuu Narukami limp to the chair opposite from you, slumping into the seat. He has probably just finished a class and was heading to the next when he saw your pathetic form. There’s no tray with him, only a steaming cup of coffee you know he’s able to down in one go because Narukami is a crazy man.

“I am so done with this week,” you say instead of greeting him properly.

Narukami blows into his cup. “It’s only Monday.”

“Exactly.”

He gives you a weary smile, but doesn’t comment further on it because he’s an actual angel who endures all your whining, and that makes him easily one of your top three greatest friends of all time, right next to your grandma and rice cooker.

“You wanna head over to Jinbocho this weekend?” you ask, turning your head so you’re resting on your chin, ignoring the awful pain in your back but you really can’t bring up the energy to sit properly. “There this reading our professor wants us to attend, and I really can’t endure that all by myself.”

Narukami thinks about it, sipping on his coffee. He picks his phone out of his pockets and tabs through it, eyebrows drawing together. “I’m heading back to Inaba for this weekend,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Ohhh, seeing someone?” you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He gives you one of his silent smiles, and somehow Narukami has always been good at making them louder than words. A sigh wedges between your lips, a weekend off away from the city sounds so great but is unfortunately unaffordable, so you don’t even start imagining it.

“All right, all right. But you can bet I’ll spam you once I’m bored,” you warn him. Narukami nods, and maybe that’s the worst thing, that you know he’ll spend time with someone, and you’ll still annoy him because you know he’s too kind to not respond to your texts. Maybe it would be easier to meet up with some of your classmates and end the day getting wasted in one of the student’s pubs. As if you needed another reason to drown in alcohol with all the bills and essays coming up.

Eventually, Narukami gets on his feet and glances at his watch. He picks some leftover food from your tray and pulls at some of your strands in way of saying See ya (it’s staggering how much of older-brother material he is, and it never fails to tug at certain strings in your heart you thought you’ve cut off long ago). But he manages just a few steps before he U-turns and stops right next to you.

“By the way, I saw this and thought you might be interested.” Narukami picks a folded paper out of his back and puts it on your head, the world’s worst waterproof roof, ignoring your protest. “It can’t be worse than your current job, so hurry, or someone else will take it.” Narukami gives you a lazy wave, then disappears. You really can’t stand to hunt down another underpaid, exhausting job, but persuade yourself to do him the favour, suffer through it, and then burn it and use it to light a cigarette.

You pull the paper from your head, unfolding it and read the tiny, curvy writing.

2nd year high school student looking for a home tutor in following subjects:

• Math • Social studies • Contemporary Japanese and English Literature

But then comes the last line and you nearly choke on your spit. Meeting twice a week, cash (7,000 yen) on hand after each session. If interested, please contact 090-xxxx-xxx.

The payment is like a neon sign drilling into your eyes. “What the fuck,” you whisper, quickly calculating how much you’ll make by the end of the month and it’s so much more than with your current shitty part-time job. You quickly pull out your phone, ignore the dozen texts from a few classmates, two from your mother, and seven from your floor neighbour living opposite from you (though you’re pretty sure the last just completely consists of cowboy emojis because Iori is a guy like that).

You quickly type an introduction and ask for a day to meet. The chance of nailing such an amazing job fuels you with energy you thought was long gone just like your motivation to care for a healthy diet. After cleaning your tray away and getting into line for some much deserved coffee, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you hurry to get it in your hands, ignoring the others in line complaining about your elbows almost clocking them.

[unknown number]: Hello, nice to meet you. If it’s possible, can you please come this evening?

Now, that’s what you call polite. 2nd year high school students should be around 16 or 17 years, and you know all too well how much of shitheads those teenagers can be. Apparently, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

[you]: Hi! Sure, I can come around 7pm! Let’s meet somewhere public, there’s no need for me to enter your home if it doesn’t work out, plus it will save your parents from worrying about a stranger knowing your address. I’ll bring bring some quizzes with me to see what you can already do and where you need help.

[unknown number]: Okay, thank you very much. Please come to the cafe Leblanc in Yongen-Jaya. The owner will know.

You pause and wonder. The cafe is foreign to you, but what an amazing coincidence the student lives in the same district as you. Well, you consider yourself lucky, it’ll definitely save you travel time, and with a positive outlook like that you easily manage through the last three hours of classes.

___________________________________________

Finding Leblanc wasn’t as easy as you'd expected. At first, you walked twice past it, not even paying attention to the dimly lit, small shop tugged between two large, grey buildings, and then you weren’t even sure if this was the right place. Then again, after asking Schmoogle you saw there really is only one Leblanc in Yongen-Jaya (and wow, it’s actually opposite the Laundromat, you’re so daft), so now you’re finally entering the little establishment. The smell of coffee and something sweeter you can’t immediately place hits you, reminding you that you haven’t had diner yet. You push that thought far away, doubting you'd find anything considered as food in your fridge, and search for the student, but the cafe is empty save for the barista leaning against the counter, perking up at the sound of a new costumer.

“Evening,” he greets. “What can I bring you?”

Remembering the last bit of your student’s text, you fish the paper out of your back. “Well, I’m here for this,” you say. “The job offer.”

“Ah, that thing,” he says, and suddenly all the politeness is gone, sucked out of him and in its place remains a deep scowl belonging to a man that wishes for many things but having you here isn't one of them. He leans back, gives a gruff nod towards a table as invitation for you to sit down. Before you can make yourself comfortable, his voice thunders through the shop. “Kid, come down! Your tutor’s here!”

Thumping comes from the ceiling like someone’s thrown over a heavy object, then steps from somewhere behind you, and you turn around to see your student reach the end of a staircase, hidden in the very back of the cafe.

Only it’s not a 2nd year high school student, it’s the lean, tall guy from yesterday, the one with unruly black hair and glasses who is a 1st year law student and—

Oh.

The boy closes the distance and slides in the seat opposite from you, throwing little, sheepish glances at you from behind the glasses (good, he has enough decency to be ashamed of his lies), and suddenly his young features are so fucking obvious, it punches you in the face like a hot iron. The clang, though soft, is like a gunshot beside you; the barista (owner since he knew you’d come?) grumbles something like “This time is on the house,” and leaves the cup of coffee next to you, retreating back behind the bar.

“So,” you start. “First year law student, huh.”

The boy massages the back of his neck, but when he looks up at you from behind his thick curtain of black lashes, there’s something sharp in his eyes. “Well, you just assumed I was a student, didn’t you? I just chose not to correct you on that.”

He’s got a point, and you bite your tongue before you add the rest of the impolite things that crossed your mind yesterday besides that. “Let’s just forget that, okay? I’ll help you, but you better be serious about this. If I give you homework, you'll finish it before our next session, got it? We’ll meet Wednesday and Sunday, but I don’t want you whining about studying on your free day, or you can find someone else,” you say as if you are actually the one who can decide that; who has the power to make demands. As if you don’t depend on his money.

“Got it.” Well, at least he seems sincere about it. “It’s a deal then.”

You look up at those words and don’t miss the slight curl at one corner of his lips, like he’s sharing a secret with you.

“Okay.” Not strange at all. “Sure.”

He leans back in his seat, shifting slightly as he crosses one leg over the other. “So, you said you’d bring quizzes with you, teach?”

“God, please don’t call me that.”

“Not God. It’s Akira,” he says nonchalantly.

“What?”

“My name.” He grins. “Akira Kurusu.”

___________________________________________

After an hour of going through what you’ll cover with Kurusu in your next sessions, just as promised he pushes 7,000 yen in your hand and you will yourself to act cool about it, and not like you’ve been handed the last desert of a busily visited buffet—which reminds you, it’s time you hand in your letter of resignation. Saying your goodbyes to Kurusu and Mr. Sakura (who’s been quiet all the time, but there was never a moment you didn’t feel his observant eyes on you), you finally leave the cafe and speed dial Narukami’s number. Before he can say anything, you greet him with, “You’re a fucking saint, Narukami.”

He gives you one of his deep, throaty laughs that never fail to make your toes curl. “If you only knew.”

“What?”

“I said, good for you,” he says. “If there’s someone deserving that job and payment, it’s you.”

“Aww.” You smile. “Stop it, you.”

“Oh, we’re finally at first name base?”

And just quickly as that, your smile disappears again. “Never mind, I take it back.”

Narukami laughs again, and until you reach the dormitory near the train station you just chat about unimportant things and decide to meet for lunch tomorrow. It’s the best you’ve felt since a long time, and even though your classes don’t really allow you to put in some extra time to prepare lessons, you’re pretty confident you’ll manage it somehow. Still, it feels like you’re ripping off that high school student. 7k bucks is really too much for one hour of going through simple stuff (and it doesn’t feel like Kurusu’s dumb, maybe he’s just lazy), but you’d be really stupid to point that out. Well, here’s to hoping he doesn’t figure it out for as long as possible. Cheers to the wild, dumb youth.

I am Thou , Thou art I… Thou hast acquired a new vow.

It shall become the wings of rebellion That breaketh thy chains of captivity.

With the birth of the Saint Persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that Shall lead to freedom and new power ��

#philliamwrites #ao3 #fanfiction #persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 akira #persona 5 ren #persona 5 joker #p5 akira #p5 ren #p5 joker #reader insert #akira kurusu x reader #ren amamiya x reader #persona 5 joker x reader

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senyuuno · 4 years ago

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"I Don't Hate It"-Kenma, Suna

KOZUME KENMA

How could you just stop like that? You've been doing it long enough to make him used to it...why is it right now?

He's been quite unsociable since your first year. You were a trasferee that time and you came to him and greeted since his seat is just at your back, guess what? He just nodded in response and looked down.

However, at the start of the second year you were shocked to see his hair dye and much to your delight you ruffles his hair. That's been your doing everyday as you greeted-"Ohayou, Kozume-kun!" And rushed to him.

One time you came to him by surprise and ruffled his hair from behind. He was pushing you lightly and you just laughed it out. No can do.

Today, he thought it was the usual day of you ruffling his hair so he decided to be as observant as he is to make you miss your jump. He casually sat on his chair and pulled out the PSP from his pocket and started his game.

He flinched when he heard your voice greeting your friends.

"Good morning, Kozume-kun!" He positioned his arms "X", and you were puzzled at the sight.

"I'm clean though," you pouted.

You slowly went to your seat. Your back facing him. His arms rested on his desk as he keeps staring at you. What? Aren't you gon'na do it? As his thoughts wander, the teacher went in and proceed to his lessons.

"Kozume-kun, hi!" Again.

"Good morning!" Again.

"Why?" He was rather shocked by his own. Wait, what?

"It's morning. So, good morning?" You densely thought for it deeply. He pursed his lips tight after telling you not to mind it.

One week had passed. They were at practice and Kenma could still not get it out on his thoughts, YOU, rather. He sighed.

"Oya. What is it right now?" Kuroo asked him. It was not new that Kenma always sigh but this one is different. His forehead formed a crunchy one while staring hard at the volleyball net.

"Nothing," Kenma answered.

"Kenma-san! Set for me while we have time," Lev bubbly jumped him.

"No way. Break means break," he said and opened his phone. While looking for a game to play, Lev whined in the background.

"Ah! Could it be finally...our first girl manager!" Yamamoto shouted. Kenma doesn't care about the fuss though, not until he heard your voice.

"Ah no. Nekomata-sensei wanted me to fill in for today. He said he could use some help."

Kenma stared at you while you were surrounded by Lev, Yamamoto, and Yaku who came to greet you. Wow. So you could make a face like that. This is the first time he stared at your giggling face. Soon afterward, his best friend noticed the way Kenma clicked his tongue.

"Where's Sensei?" You asked.

"He was called at the office. Probably he'll be here soon," it was Kuroo who answered. Your face lights up when you see the aloof setter beside him.

"You're here!" You beam a smile to him and he just looked away. You pouted.

"Ahh! You're tall! And you are supposed to be a year below me?!" You were amazed by Lev's height and he proudly showed it off to you, rewarding him a kick at the back from Yaku.

"Wanna touch my head?"

"That's Y/N-san for you, Lev!" Kuroo added to the background. Again you chuckled.

When he sits down in front of you so you could reach his height, you were more than happy to do it. But instead of just either patting his head or flicking his forehead, you ruffled his hair.

"Hah. So Y/N huh. She was from your class, right? The one who always-"

"Tsk."

"Did you just click your tongue-" Kuroo wasn't able to finish his sentence when he lazily walked at you and grab your arm to stop you from ruffling Lev's hair.

"Eh? Kenma-san? Want to touch my hair too?"Kenma just looked at Lev with his disgusted face and Yamamoto laughed his ass out.

Kenma drag you to the back of the gym and you surprisingly did not utter any word. He stops on his track and looks at you.

"So it was Lev this time, huh?" His voice was low and it was straight directed at you. But you were just staring at his hand which was still gripping your arm.

"Kozume-kun, you're fine with it?"

"What?"

"I mean, you don't want me to touch your hair but is it fine if you're holding me like this? " He suddenly loosens his grip and flushed at the sudden realization.

"Rather, was it that you just hated whenever I ruffled your hair?" You were clueless the whole time! He thought that you were avoiding him.

"I don't." He whispered.

"Did you say something?"

"I said I don't hate it. " He then again whispered while averting his gaze but enough for you to hear it.

"Really?! I thought you hated it! I was worried for nothing." You reached for his hair and ruffled it while laughing. He did not flinch anymore or push you. He actually kind of feels relief.

"Wan'na go eat some apple pie at the newly opened shop?" You asked him. A slight smile formed on his face while your hands still ruffle on his hair. Good thing you couldn't see him.

"That sounds good."

SUNA RINTAROU

What does Suna think when you always gave him food? It's either during break or lunch.

He does not care less. But when you gave something to him everyday, he finds it creepy. First, you do not know each other that well. It's just that there's a time you helped on cleaning the gym, and later on, you were involved in their casual talks at you.

"Suna, this is the first time I haven't seen your delivery girl," a classmate stated. Suna shrugged in response.

There is no volleyball practice at this time since their midterm exam is one week away, he was invited to have a study group with the twins.

"Man! 'M hungry again. Wan'na eat some sushi onigiri fast," Atsumu rumbles. Right. All these papers make Suna tired.

"Tomorrow. " Osamu said.

"Yeah! Hope I could eat peacefully." Atsumu.

"'Yer actually the one who stole m'share."

"Shut 'yer trap, those were mine'n the first place." Before the both of them could dig each other out, Suna threw each one of them a crumpled paper.

Another day had passed. And then another day. Until it was the fourth day.

SUNA can't deny the fact that he already missed your cooking. It was all homemade after all, you mentioned it to him once. So for today, at lunch, he decided to go to your classroom.

"Suna-kun!" He gave the girl who called her a lazy look before searching for you.

"Eh? Suna-senpai!" The other girls started to circle around him and he started to get annoyed by the murmurs.

"Could it be that you're looking for the Miya's?" One girl asked.

"The both of them are at the rooftop, I guess. At this point in time, they said they wanted to enjoy their lunch."

"Where's-" before he could ask where you were, he has begun to feel suffocated and he just left. Since he couldn't find you at all, he decided to have lunch with the twins and get some of their food.

Just after opening the door on the rooftop, he was greeted by the sight of you and the Miyas happily eating your lunch.

"Oh! Rin, you have tah taste this'n." Atsumu said while stuffing food on his mouth.

You look at your back and you saw him standing there, with his brows shot up. You ignored it and smiled at him, urging him to have some food.

"Could'ya cook sweets tomorrow, Y/N-chan?" Osamu asked you. Y/N-chan? Since when did you get close to the Miya's?

"Eh? I'm not good with sweets though," you said then chuckled after a short while.

Suna looked at your smiling figure before joining you. He sat close to you, which you did not mind at the very least and that somehow made him annoyed.

"Ah right. I got one for you too, Suna. " You said as you opened the bento box and gave it to him.

"Mine?"

"Well, the other day I was supposed to give it to you but..." You looked at the twins who were busy eating their food.

"Mhm! Can I have a second?" Atsumu raised his chopsticks.

"They ended up eating all of them. Sorry." You said. It was the sweetest line he heard for the day.

You continued eating afterward and he was about to start his when Atsumu stared at Suna's bento. Suna intensely glared at him, with his threatening eyes.

"Y/N-chan~" Atsumu.

"Yes. Yes. Here," you gave him half the content of your bento. Since Osamu was looking at Tsumu like someone who hasn't eaten for ages, he also gave you a puppy look.

"Seriously, Samu?" You still gave him the last, while sighing.

Suna called your name and looked at him. A piece of cleanly sliced meat was in front of you.

"Here's a reward for your cooking,"

"-which I thought I was annoying you." You said before eating the meat. It's tastier than yours.

"Nah. You could keep cooking for me." He stated.

He took the eggroll and stuff it in front of you-"Again." He said. You opened your mouth to accept it. This is great. He smiled at his actions and at your response. It seems that you did not mind it.

"Rin, Y/N-chan..." Atsumu said.

"Are ya...dating?!" They both said devastated.

Your face flushed. Does it look like that? As you were about to answer. He licked the end of the chopstick and took another slice of egg roll as he brings it to his mouth.

"No...." He answered them.

"Not yet," he added and smirked.

"No way, you sleazy fox!" Atsumu rumbled.

***END***

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyu #kozume kenma #stanhaikyuuboys #kenma x reader #y/n #suna #inarizaki #suna rintaro #suna rin #nekoma #suna x y/n #suna x reader #kenma x y/n

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years ago

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Chapter 52

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

“Perhaps I do not actually require a palace,” the Royal Companion says.

XiChen hears the words clearly, each one perfectly audible over the sounds of the guqin. The Rogue Prince had taken his leave only moments ago, but Lady Jiang is still present, having settled at the head of the bed. The Royal Companion had settled at the bottom, with an ease that suggested he had done so frequently in the past.

The words sounds nonsensical to XiChen’s ears, but the atmosphere in the Imperial chambers noticeably shifts, the Emperor stiffening in WangJi’s arms. A silence descends, just as incomprehensible as the words had been. XiChen is not familiar with the Royal Companion’s mannerisms, but the young man is holding himself stiffly as well, his lazy posture doing little to conceal the tension of his muscles.

Perhaps the sentence is a code that only the Emperor and the Royal Companion understand?

Still being held up by WangJi, the Emperor turns his head and whispers softly, words that are clearly meant for his brother’s ears only. He is reclining easily in WangJi’s arms, their heads close together, their cheeks nearly brushing.

XiChen turns his gaze back to the guqin.

It is not uncomfortable, precisely, watching his brother be so easily intimate with a person he cares for, but it is very much out of the ordinary. WangJi’s cool demeanor conceals a heart prone to excess of emotion, a depth of feeling that has always existed beneath the surface, rigorously concealed from the world. To see the Emperor so easily coax that emotion out into the open is miraculous, but it is also unsettling; XiChen does not know if the Emperor comprehends the true extent of WangJi’s affection, or how precious and rare it is, to have it so visibly displayed.

“Young Master Lan,” the Emperor says, startling him out of his thoughts.

Lady Jiang and WangJi are helping him shift into a better position, propped up against pillows and covers, no longer having to rely on WangJi for support. Despite his obvious physical weakness, the Emperor’s tone is clear and forceful. It is a skill, the ability to don a mantle of power and authority all while being maneuvered about one’s bed in such an undignified manner. XiChen both respects and envies this ability.

“Your Majesty?”

“I am grateful for your assistance, but I believe you are long overdue for some much needed rest. Would you be so kind to escort my shijie back to her chambers? Lan Zhan will continue the Cleansing in your place.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Of course, the insistence that he pass his duties to WangJi and rest, is nothing more than a polite method of removing him from the Emperor’s chambers. Any doubts he may have had would have been dispelled by WangJi’s vaguely apologetic look as he replaces XiChen at the guqin.

XiChen does not require an apology. He is tired and restless, his aching wrists welcoming any interruption of the tedious task. The two Imperial guards at the entrance are also ordered to take their duties outside, leaving WangJi and the Emperor alone with the Royal Companion.

In the hall outside the Imperial chambers, Lady Jiang smiles, “I hope you are not offended by such an abrupt dismissal, Young Master Lan. I am sure, once the situation at court has been stabilized, the Emperor will properly express his gratitude. We are in your debt.”

“There is no need,” XiChen says, realizing that he had not expected gratitude, nor does he know what to do with such a sentiment, “I am sure anyone would have done the same.”

“They would not have,” Lady Jiang says easily, her tone unchanging, “but thinking so does you credit. Please do not feel obliged to provide an escort. I am sure the Imperial guards will prove equal to the task, and my chambers are not far.”

Taken aback by the frankness of her words, he only bows in response.

He had not yet considered all the political repercussions of the Lan Sect having saved an Emperor who is so frequently a subject of assassination attempts, but Lady Jiang’s words raise many questions he cannot answer.

What will be the consequences of the Lan Sect aligning themselves so firmly with a Divine Ruler who does not intend to father an heir? Will their actions, committed over the course of the last day and night, be seen as monumentous as the assassination of the Empress had been? Can any succession of honorable deeds ever erase the dishonors of the past?

At this very moment, uncle has many more pressing issues to consider, and will doubtlessly remain occupied by them for days to come. But XiChen wishes he could simply yield to his uncle’s understanding of the matters, as he often had in the past, without having to reason out the answers to these questions on his own.

Chagrin immediately descends, propelling his restless feet to move, as if urging him to run away from such uncomfortable thoughts. XiChen is to be the future Sect leader, to occupy the same seat that uncle now holds. He should never shy away from being guided by those who came before him, but his deference has always been a little too excessive. It is a frequent source of his brother’s frustration, XiChen’s insistence on ceding ground to avoid disharmony and conflict.

It is not for the lack of firm beliefs that XiChen so often gives way. It is simply a habit, one borne of insecurity. In order to hold firm in the face of opposition, one must believe that their own understanding is impeachable, that their opinions have been properly formed, that they are indisputably in the right. XiChen firmly believes that Nie MingJue’s intentions are honorable and genuine, that his own affection is steadfast and unimpeachable, but he has never possessed the necessary self-confidence to insist on this belief in the face of uncle’s disapproval.

Lack of a spine is not a virtue, but XiChen had dressed it up as such, so that others may admire his amicable nature, while he, alone, is left to despise the roots from which it grew. He wonders how long he would have gone on this way, draping his self-doubts in a cloak of respectful deference, had Nie MingJue not entered his life.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Nie MingJue appears at the head of the hall, his stride quick and purposeful. Guards had been sent to inform him that the Emperor is awake, XiChen remembers, and the man doubtlessly expects to be admitted to the Emperor’s chambers without delay. XiChen is certain that Nie MingJue will be disappointed in his expectations. Any conversation that requires the removal of both Lady Jiang and the Imperial guards from the Emperor’s presence must be highly sensitive in nature, and is likely to go on for some time.

The General of the Emperor’s army is no longer wearing his armor, his Nie Sect uniform silver and black, the cut severe, clearly intended to project authority. In the early morning gloom, his face is a collection of shifting shadows, his mood impossible to discern. Faced with such a presence, the few servants finishing up their nightly tasks scurry out of the way with their heads bowed, the guards straighten their shoulders as if expecting to be scolded, even the walls themselves seem to stand at attention.

It strikes XiChen fiercely, how the attributes he admires so fervently in Nie MingJue are those he has always felt a lack of in himself. Even the man’s boldness, so often displayed in mortifying ways, is a trait that XiChen wishes he can possess. It has inspired a boldness of his own, although it appears pitiful when compared to MingJue’s. In the same vein, his own temperance is likely to have suppressed at least some of MingJue’s brashness. They fit, the two of them; one yielding while the other remains unmoved, one sure to hesitate while the other barrels bravely onward.

Do you truly think that there is a single part of you that I will not admire?

MingJue does not have a chance to express his obvious surprise at encountering XiChen during such an early hour, nor is he given an opportunity to ask any questions. XiChen is not certain what his course of action would have been, had MingJue resisted the firm grip on his wrist, had he refused to let himself be steered. To his relief, MingJue obediently allows XiChen to pull him aside, to push him past the unguarded doors of the Emperor’s study.

The room beyond faces south, the early morning light some hours away from reaching the single window hole. XiChen is relieved. He does not want MingJue to see the flush across his cheeks, or to discern the anxiety in his eyes.

Under his hands, MingJue’s braids are impossibly intricate, each one a tiny, delicate wonder. Under his mouth, MingJue is made rigid by surprise.

XiChen had not exactly expected an immediate response. This action, this impulse decision, it is so unlike himself that MingJue may as well think he has been accosted by a stranger. Still, each breath is centuries long, each one riddled with seeds of doubt.

Perhaps XiChen was wrong after all. Perhaps Nie MingJue does not wish to--

He is pulled forward with such force that he stumbles over his own feet. The cold steel of MingJue’s belt scrapes across the tender flesh of his stomach, an earth shattering contact even through two layers of robes. MingJue’s tongue, hot and insistent, licks into his mouth, sliding against his own. The sensation is a shock; XiChen feels it all along his spine, curving around his limbs, pressing into each sensitive stretch of his skin. He does not realize he had tightened his hold on the handful of braids until MingJue makes a sound, a pitiful noise that seems to border on pain. Even as XiChen struggles to release his grip, the arms around his body tighten, a searing hot palm pressed against his shoulder blades locking him in place.

XiChen has never kissed, or been kissed. The few times he had imagined such an act, it had been a rarely reached conclusion of some distinctly chaste fantasies, gone no further than lips pressing together, breathing each other’s air. He does not think that any stretch of fantasies could have prepared him for this.

He is certain that his lack of skill must be obvious. Yet, each hesitant lick of his tongue is followed by a series of shudders he can clearly feel cross MingJue’s shoulders. His own trembling, impossible to suppress, is made less shameful by the knowledge that MingJue is equally as affected. It seems impossible to concentrate on anything but the movement of their lips, the slick slide of their tongues, but XiChen manages to release the handfuls of braids he had gripped. MingJue whines softly, a noise that sounds suspiciously like a complaint.

When their lips part, XiChen finds himself struggling to breathe normally, his chest both too tight for the air he needed, and somehow larger than the space it must occupy.

“XiChen,” MingJue rasps.

His voice is raw and thick, the sound unexpectedly arousing. XiChen is moving to kiss him again before realizing that he has done so, and manages to pull back just in time.

Firmly placing his hands on MingJue’s shoulders, he tries to say what must be said, words he had avoided since his last argument with uncle, “You-- my uncle will only allow your presence at Cloud Recesses if I enter secluded meditation for the duration of your visit. I will not attempt to convince him to change his mind. He does not trust me to behave-- in a virtuous manner, nor do I intend to persuade him otherwise.”

MingJue makes a soft sound, but XiChen does not look up; he is embarrassed enough by the admission as it is, he does not want to know what expression MingJue’s face may hold.

“You had said once that your situation is not nearly as inflexible as my own. If you are still willing-- to offer me a lifetime, I am ready to listen.”

He has hardly finished speaking when MingJue’s mouth finds his own again, infinitely more careful this time, the act very close to the chaste kiss of XiChen’s fantasies. XiChen is the one who presses closer, deepening the kiss, feeling brave and reckless in the wake of his confession.

Perhaps he may never possess MingJue’s boldness, but he has managed to find some of his own in the process; as paltry as such a thing may appear to be, if it serves to ensure him a lifetime of happiness, he will never again view it with scorn.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #nielan #m #ficlet #wwx emperor au #xichen is being silly and self-deprecating #the emperor's study sees some more action #some things are decided #but no things are fully resolved #and onward we go #ily chickens

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sabineelectricheart · 4 years ago

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Sneaking Out to the Neighbour's Bedroom

Summary: Jamie Last sneaks to her sleepy, nerdy boyfriend's bedroom.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1100

Notes: My first fanfic ‘round here, but I have more material up on AO3 that I’ll cross-post.

Jamie Last jumped out from her perched window into the soft lawn beneath, as it was increasingly becoming a habit of hers. She was humming a Pop 40 song she had heard Miranda sing that Spring afternoon in school, after lunch, and the stupid tune was stuck in her head.

She crossed the street and walked over the other house calmly, before putting a sneakered foot on the desired windowsill of his neighbour’s and propelled herself up.

As the teen girl arrived in the room, she saw an incredibly tired Cove, sitting on his desk chair and staring at the window like a lost puppy. He brightened up when he heard the familiar rustle and bustle of vegetation and her figure emerging from the offending opening and he gave her a sleepy, sleepy, sleepy smile which made her giggle like reindeer bells.

Jamie approached him and, as if he was a boa constrictor, she was immediately in his arms. Cove was exceptionally clingy when he was tired and if she was around, he needed her in his arms or he might just die, or so he claims.

"Where were you?" He mumbles into her neck, nuzzling his nose against her skin.

"Cheerleading practice took a while more than I expected, and then the moms wanted to talk about my grades, darling. Do you want to go to bed and sleep?" She asks him, running a hand through his messy seafoam hair.

"If I sleep, you’re going to leave." He whines, pulling her even closer.

She giggled at his eternally childish self and her heart exploded when she felt his lips stretch into a smile against her skin.

“No, I won’t.” The girl insisted. “Come on, sleepyhead, let’s lay down. You need some rest tonight.”

Cove hummed back but made no effort to move. Instead he started to plant little kisses on her neck sloppily.

"Cove, honey?" Jamie whispers.

"Yeah." He hums, parting away just enough for them to walk to the single bed on the far side of the room. He still had his arms around her waist and had half of his body weight leaned against hers.

The athletic girl came to a stop in front of the boy’s bed and laid on it. Cove laid in between her legs and rested his head on her shoulder, letting out a grunt of satisfaction.

With their arms intertwined with one another, Jamie’s hand went into his hair so she could gently rake her fingers through his soft curls. Cove groaned a little, smiling into her shoulder.

"Why were you up so late last night, Cove?" She asks, with the soft voice he knew she used when she was concerned about him.

Cove closes his eyes as he heard the question.

"I had to study. We had a test on AP Chemistry this morning, and I really wanted to do well." He whispers, with embarrassment.

He felt a soft hand cup his jaw and pull his head up to face her. He opened his eyes and gazed into his lover's eyes which were filled with concern.

"You should take care of yourself, Cove." She frowns.

Cove moves his head a little, kissing the palm of her hand. "You're here for that, Jamie. It’s all the care I want or need."

"I can't sleep with you every night, lazy boy." The student athlete tells him.

"You can, actually. My dad won’t mind. Let's see if he would." Before Jamie could have said anything, Cove was already yelling at his father, who was likely on the living room or the kitchen. "Dad! Would you mind if Jamie slept over every night?!"

Jamie buried her head in his green hair, trying hide her very embarrassed expression, even if no one else could see it other than Cove himself.

"You’d have to check with her moms first!" Cliff yells back, causing her to bury her head further in his son’s curls. “And no funny business under my roof!”

Cove grins and turns to her. "See? You can sleep with me every day now."

“What about my moms?” She raised an eyebrow in questioning.

The boy scoffed. “Please, they love me! You said yourself they think I’m a good influence on you.”

"If you behave like an annoying nerd, forget cuddling with me." She murmured, making him widen his eyes. He seemed to be wide awake now.

"Oh, no, please. That's not happening. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, baby, it wasn't my intention. Sorry." He started to pepper kisses all over her face after whispering those words, thoroughly determined to make her forgive him.

She could not help but giggle at him. "It's okay Cove, no harm done."

Cove stopped and leaned away to look her in the eyes. Those stunning and bright evergreen eyes were dull with guilt. "Are you sure?"

"I'm completely sure, honey." She pulled him into a kiss and let her eyes roll back when he kissed her gently and slowly, driving her insane by those slightly sun-chapped lips. “It’s not like I wouldn’t miss it, too.”

Cove's hands started to roam along her sides, leaving a tickling sensation behind. He almost moaned by how ecstatic he felt to kiss her. It was like her kisses were the Ambrosia and he was starving for it.

Soon she parted away, making him pout like the spoiled boy he was when they met.

"I almost forgot that you're tired, honey. Just go to sleep." The cheerleader kissed his nose and brought him back to her chest. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, like I’ll always be.”

Cove smiled lazily, laying his head on her chest and sighing blissfully. He closed his eyes and one of his hands immediately reached for hers. He intertwined their fingers together and tucked their joint hands under his chin.

He did this at times when he was the little spoon and Jamie found it too adorable.

She started softly singing to him, knowing full well that he absolutely loved whenever she sang to him, but more especially when he was about to go to sleep.

With the massage he was getting and that divine voice, he was soon lulled to a restful, deep sleep.

Jamie knew their parents snickered and teased them as if an Olympic sport, that Liz would mock him calling the boy her baby boyfriend, that Miranda and Terri would complain about the mush fest around them, but deep down they were all very happy to know that they shared a true, everlasting love.

It was nothing but what they deserved.

*_*_*_*_*

Our Life Masterlist

#our life: beginnings & always #cove holden

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

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The ghost of romance future

Part Two // Part Three

Pairing: Spike x reader (gender neutral, I will specify fem! or male! if otherwise)

Request: reader is slightly older than the scoobies and really protective of them, especially buffy. The reader hates spike because of how he's bragged about killing slayers in the past. However, a while after he gets the chip, they start to grow on each other, and eventually fall for each other. Sort of an enemies to lovers type of deal. I really really love your stories, I think they might just be my favorite btvs fics fr. Even if you don't do this request, thanks for all the great writing! ❤

Requested by: Anon

Warnings: Swearing. There’s a little heated kissing but idk if that needs a warning lol

A/N: Flattery will get u everywhere with me apparently. Kind asks totally get my inspiration flowing, also Spike and enemies to lovers. So, to sum up, this was one heavenly request for me!

Sunnydale was surprisingly quiet at the moment which meant bad things were probably on the horizon. You were smiling as you did your night-time routine though, thinking about something Spike had said to you that evening at the Bronze which had made you laugh. He was growing on you, ever since the Initiative chipped him, he had been a lot more fun to be around. You didn’t really like him when you first met, you weren’t even convinced by him a few months ago, but now you found yourself almost enjoying his company. Platonically, of course.

That night, as you started to get into bed the temperature in the room started to chill. It was as if you had unknowingly walked into a freezer. You jumped, dropping the sheet you had pulled back for you to slip into as a voice boomed out of nowhere, echoing against each wall in the room. You turned to see a ghost staring straight at you. Great, just what you needed.

“You will be visited by three ghosts tonight. The ghosts of romance beginning, possible and destiny” The figure spoke, apparently the powers that be were getting tired of you and Spike dancing around each other and decided to take direct action.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“The first apparition shall arrive when the clock strikes one” The figure spoke as it disappeared before your eyes. You groaned, you really didn’t need to see some warped Christmas Carol-style look at your past dates. But, that wasn’t what this was. As you fell deep into a sleep you had been fighting so that the apparition wouldn’t get its way, you had a dream. It was very similar to that of a prophetic dream you may or may not have been pretending to read about at a Scooby meeting a day previous.

The Beginning:

The first scene was a memory of yours from a while ago, which really was just lazy haunting on the spectre’s part. It was one of the times that you had finished shouting at Spike for being just plain nasty to your younger friends. You were a few years older than the other Scoobies, making you the protective, ‘parent’ friend. Any advice, worries or study support and you were there. You particularly worried about Buffy, the responsibility she held got her down sometimes and you felt protective of her as if she was your little sister. You wished you could protect her from everything that came her way.

When Spike, having ignored your rant, started to follow Buffy through a darkened graveyard, you stepped out. You had no super-strength, no secret powers, but you did have an attitude and a protective streak. So you blocked his path.

“No”

“Wh-”

“Just no, Spike. Leave her alone” You warned. He enjoyed taunting her with threats and stories of his past exploits, especially gruesomely detailing the way he killed slayers in the past.

“I was just gonna offer my services”

“There are no services you can provide that are gonna make Buffy listen to you. Go home”

“Jealousy looks cute on you, pet”

“Just – go” You warned. He smirked, moving in. He grabbed your upper arm, a mean look as he pulled you into him so he could whisper in your ear. But you thought fast, “Ow! Ow that really hurts!” You hissed, wincing and shaking in pain as he dropped your arm and started to clutch his own head in agony. He hadn’t realised he had gripped your arm that tight. Bloody breakable human bones.

But you straightened up as he started to clutch his head, smiling a satisfied grin before winking. He hadn’t hurt you. You had been pretending, which still fired off the chip because he thought he had caused pain.

“I bloody hate you!” he shouted, still rubbing his head, “Spiteful fucking bitch” He seethed, pointing at you angrily. Wishing he could twist your arm out of its socket and cause excruciating pain you had just given him. He stalked off, the opposite direction from both you and Buffy which had been your goal to begin with, so you were satisfied.

The Possibility:

The second dream sequence was, again, some pretty lazy ghosting in your opinion. It was you and Spike at the magic box last week. You found yourselves sat together as the others excitably skipped to the dance floor. You and Spike were left nursing your drinks together.

“Alright, love?” he asked as you watched the others with a little smile. You weren’t so much older, but old enough that you looked at them fondly as if you were reminiscing about being as carefree as them in your youth. They didn’t get the chance often and you saw Buffy and Riley dancing together which made you happy for her. She needed something like this, something more stable.

“Yeah, it’s just a nice evening” You smiled at Willow and Tara as they gave you a little wave, shaking your head as they tried again to get you to join them and dance.

“Too right, bagged more than one demon and the onion flower’s back on the menu” Spike said, looking over at the bar. He wasn’t too bothered by what the others were doing.

“Onion flower?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t tried it”

“I haven’t” you shrugged, sipping on your soda. As much as you enjoyed partying with the others, you wanted to keep an eye out and get them all home safe at the end of the night. They were mostly new to drinking so you wanted to be on hand and sober if there were any disasters.

“You haven’t lived! Bloody brilliant, they soak it in water first then fry it – shallow – on both sides until golden”

You were staring at the dance floor as he spoke animatedly, his hands gesturing, clearly this was a particular favourite of his. You looked at him, an amused smile on your face. It made his face harden, he hadn’t realised how carried away he had gotten. He looked a bit embarrassed and you couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread across your face.

“Hey, that sounds pretty cool” You offered him, he was clearly expecting you to make fun of him or run to the microphone at the front and announce loud to the entire Bronze that he was actually really lame and not at all scary. He looked at you for a moment, almost as if he wanted to say something more. Offer more than the usual insults you both traded, but he just got up to get himself another drink – not offering to buy you a round.

However, Spike came back with a smug grin and an onion flower which he set in front of you. You couldn’t help smiling softly at his enthusiasm, it was almost endearing. His face faltered as he saw the way you were looking at him, he felt something suspiciously close to affection rising in his chest, connecting through clusters of nerves throughout his entire body. This was when he realised he liked you. He really liked you. Oh no.

The Destiny:

The third ghost brought you somewhere that was not yet in your memory, but you were very pleased with the way it made you feel. It was unusual, you felt older but nothing about Sunnydale had apparently changed. Spike was in your apartment, a place he had never been invited before but he walked around the place as if he knew it. As if it were his own house.

It was like you were watching a romantic film, the anticipation whether the love interest would kiss you being almost painful. You were staring at him as he moved around your kitchen with ease, making you a hot drink and taking some blood from your fridge. You yearned for him and could tell he felt the same. The subtle glances, the desire for the other’s touch.

He smiled when he saw you watching, you walked into the kitchen, taking your cup and sipping it slowly. It was made exactly how you like it. Spike moved so that he was looping his arms around your waist from behind. You hummed, staring out of the window into the cool night. You felt calm, safe. Something you had never thought about with Spike but you had a feeling that after this dream, it was all you were going to be feeling.

“I’m so glad I’ve got you, love… never thought we’d actually do it mind”

“I could never imagine my life without loving you, Spike. It just feels so right” You found your mouth moving of its own accord.

“Mm, and a little wrong… in a good way” he smirked, moving into your neck as he mumbled the words. He pressed some soft kisses there as he thought about the way you had become his. He loved you, not able to stop himself grinning like an idiot when you were around him still. The strangest part was that you knew he loved you and your feelings complimented his perfectly.

“In the best way” You confirmed, finding yourself smiling. You set the mug down, knowing what was coming as he spun you around to face him. He smirked, eyeing you as you smiled in anticipation.

There was that familiar look in his eye before he moved in, you felt blunt teeth grazing your neck, your own breathy moans ricocheting around the room as you grasped at his shirt. You clutched at strands of his blonde hair, his kisses heated but with an underlying affection he could never shake when it came to you. he pressed you against the kitchen counter, laying kisses so hot they felt as if they were marking your skin, his lips branding you as his. They were on yours now, you moaned into his mouth as his hands started to roam and this is where the dream ended.

It was disappointing, the anticipation was killing you and you longed for this to be real some day. You woke with a start, jolting up in bed. You woke to find yourself alone in your apartment, desperately missing Spike’s touch. His kiss. His love.

Whatever had been going on last night, you were sure you would never see Spike the same again and honestly, you didn’t really want to.

#spike x reader #spike x you #spike imagine #spike btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #btvs oneshot #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #scooby reader #scooby gang x reader #gender netural reader #gender neutral #btvs #heated kissing #Riley Finn #Tara Maclay #Buffy Summers #dream sequence

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sharkbaitsekki · 4 years ago

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Emm, dimiclaude idea here, thought I'd throw one out there (don't feel pressured to do it!!) But what if Claude is trying to get Dimitri to chill and says "you're not perfect, just let go and do what you want" and the boi Dima is like "Ok. Ok! I can do this!" and quickly smooches the Claude and mentally Claude's like tHAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT but he's not complaining

“You look way too focused, Dimitri.”

“And perhaps you are not focused enough, Claude.”

There was nothing new about their exchange, the two of them having had the same discussion in various ways over their study session. When Dimitri looked up from his books this time, Claude was balancing his pencil on his upper lip like a mustache. That, at the very least, was a new trick.

“What... are you doing?” he deadpanned, watching as Claude wobbled, trying to keep his balance but ultimately failing. The pencil fell from its spot and Claude snatched it through the air, twirling it between his fingers.

“I’m tired of studying,” he whined in response, leaning his chin in his hand. He tucked his pencil behind his ear like hanging up his weapon on a rack. “We’ve been at this forever.”

“We have been at this for an hour and a half,” Dimitri corrected, unimpressed, “For one hour of which you have been doodling cats on your course notes.”

“I also doodled the Professor and a fish sandwich,” Claude corrected, pointing out the doodles in question, “which, incidentally, I hope we’re not having for lunch today.”

“Claude,” Dimitri chided firmly. “Focus. I did not agree to study with you in order to allow myself a distraction from said studying.”

“And I asked to study with you because you always look too serious and I wanted to loosen you up,” Claude retorted shamelessly, kicking his legs up on top of the table. Dimitri swept them off without missing a beat. “Come on. You’ve really been working hard recently, so you should take a rest.”

“I don’t require rest at the moment,” Dimitri assured him, turning his eyes back down to his papers. “At the moment, I wish to understand the application of this formula in calculating catapult trajectories.”

“I’ll teach it to you,” Claude hummed, jumping off his seat and sauntering over to Dimitri to glance down over the young prince’s back. His lazy eyes sparkled with confidence, which simultaneously comforted and infuriated Dimitri. He made it all seem effortless. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“In return, I just want us to do one thing that you actually wanna do. We could go horseback riding, or go read some novels in the courtyard... doesn’t matter to me. But it has to be something you want to do,” Claude said, leaning on Dimitri’s chair. His knuckles brushed the back of his uniform and even though Dimitri couldn’t feel their warmth through his cape, he felt oddly soothed at the pressure on his back.

“Studying is something that I want to do,” Dimitri replied, and immediately felt how off the sentence sounded. Claude felt it, too, giving him a lopsided grin that said ‘told you so’ in the most obvious way.

“I don’t think that’s quite true,” Claude chuckled knowingly. “My guess is that studying is just something you have to do, considering how seriously you take your princely duties. Aren’t I right?”

“I don’t see how that could be a bad thing,” Dimitri insisted, crossing his arms. “I am simply being responsible. My birthright is not one to be taken lightly, after all.”

“Oh boy...” Sighing dramatically, Claude circled Dimitri again and grabbed his chair, dragging it noisily to Dimitri’s desk and plopping down next to him. At this distance, their shoulders brushed when he leaned into Dimitri’s notes. “Okay, let me show you. Maybe you’ll be a little more willing when this is out of the way.”

“I’m not-”

“Pay attention, Your Princeliness!” Claude chided playfully, and then tapped the paper with his pencil. “You have to start by determining the weight of your projectiles. Look.” He immediately began to scribble in the margin of Dimitri’s notes, and the blonde had no choice but to pay attention to him.

Begrudgingly, he admitted that Claude was an excellent teacher, concise and patient with his explanations and guiding Dimitri into completing the exercise himself. By the time Dimitri figured out the final answer, he felt like he had actually learned how to do things on his own.

“I’ve finished,” he announced with quiet pride in his voice, scribbling the last parts of the answer down hastily.

“Hmm.” Claude’s voice was a little too close, and Dimitri realized that he had leaned in until both of their faces were nearly touching over the assignment. Somehow afraid to ruin it, he tried to quiet his breathing. “Well, you got it. Nicely done.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri murmured, not daring talk too loud in this proximity. His face felt hot for some reason, his eyes darting instinctively to follow the peek of Claude’s tongue through his lips when they became too dry. Claude was also looking at him, eyes glinting with something that Dimitri could not discern, and he looked away in embarrassment. “I... I suppose I should continue this series of exercises now.”

“You already got it right. No need to keep going,” Claude assured him, still not pulling away.

“I must be able to do this on my own,” Dimitri insisted, feeling more and more tense. His heart beat fast, but not like it did in battle. Despite how wired he felt, Dimitri didn’t feel stressed.

“Come on, you’re not perfect.” Claude’s teasing hum vibrated through the air and Dimitri suddenly found himself thinking that he wanted to touch his chest and feel it in his hand. “Dimitri. Just do something you want to do, for once.”

And Dimitri finally felt it, the powerful urge to do just that, to discard expectation and follow his heart into the dark instead. His hands itched and his throat felt tight and he found himself wondering if this sort of anxiety was normal, or simply because of Claude.Claude, whose eyes still hadn’t left Dimitri’s face, still close and contemplative, warm and beckoning and taunting Dimitri to act, to discard his title and his burdens for just one second, just long enough to be himself.

Dimitri kissed him.

He wasn’t sure what ultimately drove him to do it, but without questioning the urge, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Claude’s, soft, unsure, and brief. He couldn’t see Claude’s expression until he drew back and opened his eyes, stunned to note how wide they’d gotten.

“Well then,” the other boy stuttered slightly, licking his lips. The action made Dimitri feel strangely hot. “I... wasn’t expecting that.”

“Is that really not what you were waiting for?” Dimitri asked, a whole new brand of anxiety sitting in his stomach. His once serene heart now felt like a storm in the making. “I-I apologize, I am notoriously bad at reading people and it is something I must improve if I hope to-”

“Dimitri.”

He stopped talking, hanging onto Claude’s every word, watching in anticipation as his stunned expression relaxed into something amused, almost fond.

“Is that really what you wanted to do?” he asked, an easy smile stretching across his face. There was no malice to it, no trickery. Perhaps it was that genuine display that gave Dimitri confidence to continue.

“Yes,” he answered, not expecting his voice to come out so firm. “It was.”

“Well done, then,” Claude chuckled, amused. “So... can I do something I want, now?”

“Yes,” Dimitri murmured, and even before Claude reached him, he had leaned over to meet him halfway. Their lips met again, easier this time, more instinctively.

When he tangled his hands in Claude’s hair to draw him closer, deepening the kiss like a man starved for centuries, the pencil perched behind Claude’s ear clattered to the floor noisily. Dimitri didn’t hear it, instead breathlessly drowning in Claude, listening only for the sounds of his pleasure and realizing that this was something he had both wanted and needed for the longest time.

#dimiclaude #claumitri #im super tired like my eyes are falling shut but i wanted to finish this so pls be lenient #awkard fumbling disaster gay x hopeful but realistic gay caught off guard #bro what if we kissed over the quadratic formula ahaha jk unless...#fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe three houses #fe claude #fe dimitri #cin's writing

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thoughtfulpaperback · 4 years ago

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CHARMED 03X09 REVIEW SPOILERS!!!!!

Am I the only one who thought that the breaking of Jordan's Curse was weak as heck? I'll go into further detail about why I didn't care much for it but I feel that it is the main reason I am giving this episode a 7/10. It was solid as far as entertainment goes, but it wasn't as exciting to me as some past episodes have been.

Anyways I guess I will continue on to the dislikes now.

DISLIKES

1) The end of Jordan's curse

Okay y'all, I get the poeticness of jordan being released from his curse by convincing a projection of Florence with his whole the past can't be changed and I am not going to be a violent person/I'm different. My whole issue with this is that the whole curse said you had to balance the scales of justice and that was kinda of exciting to think about how the show was going to go that route and what it might mean as far as tasks go.

This was a decidedly weak way to end a potentially exciting curse. Because the curse wasn't actually "broken" Jordan was released from it.

And on that note, I also have issues with that logic. So the spell was just a simple containment gone wrong because of Jordan's curse....so why was Florence real in it?. Like it is technically trapping then in thier heads in a way. You telling me that Florence's spirit just hangs around in Jordan's mind?

Well since the curse made the spell go haywire that's why Florence was there.....

Okay so this curse can bring back the dead in your mind?

Its magic its fine however they try to explain it. I just wish they'd (the writers) would put more effort into making it make sense in the show. Not in the Q&A section of thier social media pages/interviews.

I am honestly getting tired of having to be Sherlock Holmes all the time and me having to discuss and question on go back to previous episodes to figure out how what they did makes sense in canon. It's exhausting.

And listen, I know that people might see this as negativity, but in the spirit of the episodes message, am I saying it. The writing does not need to be exceptional, but it shouldn't be lazy.

The audience shouldn't have to put in all the work to figure out what's going on. It be one thing if we trying to solve a mystery or speculate on where the show is going , but in general solutions to problems should make sense and be connected to what you've already set up. They spent so much build up on the idea of this curse and the price of "balancing the scales of justice" to have the curse ended all in a simple spell gone wrong narrative. Again, if they felt it was the best to have Jordan released from his cure rather than "break it" thats cool but not in a containment spell gone wrong. I personally didn't need an action scene or anything, but maybe in a spell/plotline actually related directly to the curse. It just came off as an easy out for the writers.

2) Introducing Josefina as a possible recurring character.

Don't hate! I love Josefina as a character and would love to see more of her......but this plate is already full. I have felt it a lot this season, but felt it was a nit pick not worth mentioning because I didn't expect it to get worse, but I am just going to say it.

Every episode has like three or so storylines. And while I dont mind them when they are all equally interesting and feel not too split, I feel that sometimes its too seperate and dis jointed. Its too much time apart and not enough together time. The more character they have introduced the more they have split the stories and I just would prefer that we'd see more together time than separated.

That's kind of what I complained about season two. That it was too much of everyone doing thier own thing that it felt off.

Thats said all I mean is that either they need to figure out how to write in a less disjointed way or to drop some characters. Which would be sad since they have spent a lot of time in the two recurring characters (Jordan and Abby) they already have.

I dont know exactly where they are going with Josefina or if she is going to be as recurring as Jordan and abby or if its more like a few episodes or just one more.

I would like to see more, but I dont trust the writers.....I feel like I say that a lot and that's sad.

LIKES

1) issue of the episode: Exceptionality

I have nothing to say other than thank God someone said it. It's exhausting being pressured into being a "model minority".

2) Josefina

Love the idea of the character and getting to learn more about Marisol and her side of the family.

Also like the idea of witch training. We never actually got to see the PO3 Learn about magic and study magic all that much. Even on season 1 a big issue I had was that they never really put as much effort into showing how the ladies are going about learning and training to fight demons/evil. The training orb was a simple way to do so but we didn't get to see very much of it. It was all mostly assumed off screen.

3) Language issues

I like that they brought up (briefly) the whole language issue in the Latinx community. So I assume most of us know it but ill just go through it a bit.

There are many different voices in the community and there are some that believe that the language (Spanish and/or other native or native based jargon) are essential to the experience. Some go as far as to say you can't really consider yourself latinx if you dont speak Spanish.

Which is bonkers in my mind because (as in episode with Maggie) latinx people face similar issues based on thier appearance and last name whether or not they speak Spanish. There are many latinx people who do not speak Spanish and yet it is assumed they do.

No being raised in a Spanish speaking (or other native language) household does open you up to different experiences (language erasure, ESL school experiences, etc) those aren't soley latinx and shouldn't be a "admissions" requirement.

EPISODE HIGHLIGHTS

Macy letting Harry go to Abby alone (I am to be that secure that Abby aint gonna try it)

Maggie mad that Antonio swooped in because he speaks Spanish - that ain't his fault take notes.

Jordan-sorry-it-was-instinct-I-wanted-to-protect-you-Chase

Brujeria wasn't stigmatized until the colonizers

"Stay for that whiskey"

Scorpions

#harry greenwood #charmed spoilers #macy vaughn #charmed reboot #charmed cw #charmed remake #cw charmed #charmed 2018 spoilers #charmed 2018 #mel vera #maggie vera #jordan chase

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curly-bangtan · 5 years ago

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#15 with yoongi - fluffy or smutty :D

#15: “you’re so annoying and needy… fine just come over here.”

Warnings: oral (f), lil bit of dry humping cos u know i love that shit teehee

A/N: Wow I love writing Yoongi, might have to bang out all the drabble requests for him while I’m at it… Didn’t mean for this to get smutty but oh well.

You let out a whine, high-pitched and exaggerated, and flip the page of your novel. Glancing up, Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice the slight irritation in your tone, or if he does, he doesn’t show it.

Hmph. Why is he like this?

Another sigh leaves your pouting lips. At this point, you’re not even absorbing the words you’re scanning into your head anymore, so you put the book down in defeat. Click click, goes his mouse. Your boyfriend is completely immersed in his music production, his big black headphones caging his ears, isolating him from the rest of the world. The rest of the world being you.

You throw your arms back to stretch like a cat, ruffling the neatly made covers of his bed. It’s a pet peeve of his, the way you never make the bed. You’d always tune him out when he would lecture you about not leaving your room in a mess; just because he’s your daddy doesn’t make him your dad too. But right now, you kind of miss his low monotonous voice droning on and telling you off.

Because even that, or just anything, is better than him not giving you the attention you’re craving.

But it’s also not in your nature to beg. He either notices that you’re lonely or he doesn’t. It’s his duty as your boyfriend to care about you.

“Ow!” You suddenly yelp.

Nothing is hurting, you’re just testing whether he can actually hear you or not.

Yoongi’s neck immediately snaps around, round poker face searching yours. You quickly pretend to rub the imaginary paper cut on your finger. His gaze lingers on your hand, flickers to your face, and to your disappointment, turns back to the screen.

Not even a word. Wow.

Feeling cranky at his apparent lack of concern, you whip your phone out and start scrolling so aggressively that the pad of your thumb feels raw. You can’t even muster enough care for the people on your screen. Cool, Yeji went to Tokyo with her boyfriend. Sure they look cute, sure you wish you and Yoongi were in Japan right now too, but whatever. Who gives a shit. Aggressive scroll.

One of Yoongi’s best qualities is how hard-working he is. One of Yoongi’s worst qualities is how hard-working he is.

Of course you love how he reaps the benefits of his diligence. His newest record got approved by his agency again and is currently being worked on in the studio with a new up-and-coming artist. You genuinely cannot be prouder of him. He does what he loves, and loves he does. That’s really admirable nowadays.

But, but, as his girlfriend, you would really wish for him to pay some attention to you every now and then. You don’t ask for much, just an occasional kiss, or even acknowledgement that you’re in the same room would be nice, thank you very much.

“Yoongi, I’m tired.” Code for: Yoongi, can you come over and spoon me so we can sleep already?

He grunts a response that vaguely resembles ‘go to sleep, I’ll be done a sec…’ which would be inaudible to any ears except your own, because by now you are trained to be able to distinguish his low grumbles and murmurs. You want to throw your book at him. Wait, that’s not even a bad idea. Because that would at least get his attention, piss him off.

Instead, you trud over and switch off the lights. But not before you change out of your clothes into his favourite SG shirt, the beige one since he’s wearing the black, purposely not wearing pants so he can catch a glimpse of your ass when you get up.

Yoongi clears his throat but averts your eye, the blue light of the screen illuminating his face in the new darkness.

You want to strangle him. Stupid sack of rice. What man ignores his girlfriend prancing around in his T-shirt and a sexy red thong?

Slightly too dramatic, maybe, you start pretending to call your friend Jimin. “Hey! What’s up?” You purposely don’t keep your voice down even though you know how much Yoongi appreciates a calm ambiance while working. A ball of satisfaction sinks in as you notice his shoulders perk up in attention. “That’s great! … Nah, I’m not up to much, just really bored and sleepy.” Emphasising volume on really. “Yeah, Yoongi’s good, working again of course. You know how he is. Haha, yeah I saw her post too, she’s in Tokyo with her boyfriend. I want to go so badly with Yoongi but he’s busy all the time ‘coz he’s doing really well with his music and all that… Wait seriously? Let’s actually go together!”

Okay, maybe you’re getting carried away with your narrative. But can anyone blame you?

Yoongi’s chair swivels so abruptly at you that you drop your phone, startled. He rests his headphones on his neck and watches you with that annoyingly blank expression of his.

Swiftly, you pick your phone back up to orchestrate your fake goodbyes with ‘Jimin’, excusing that you’re going to bed soon. You stare back at your boyfriend, awaiting him to finally say something.

He sighs. “Jimin smashed his phone today.”

Oh.

You feel the flames rush to your cheeks, soaking in embarrassment. You don’t even know what to say because what the fuck does one say when one gets caught pretending to be on the phone with someone?

“Is your book boring?” His back is turned from the screen, shadow casted on his face, yet you can tell that he’s frowning lightly.

You still can’t say anything. Mind in a state of malfunction at the humiliation.

“Let me see your paper cut.”

Shit. Caught twice.

��Um. It’s nothing, not even any blood, you won’t be able to see it.” Heat continues to flood your face. His bullshit sensor aas never failed him before, why do you even try to lie to him?

Yoongi exhales in exasperation, clearly fed up. And you feel small, diminished, guilty. “You’re so annoying and needy. I’m working, I said I’ll be done soon.”

“Yeah but you say that every time…” You half whisper half whine. “I just miss you, that’s all…”

For a moment, he just looks at you, expression unreadable as usual. You think he’s going to turn back to resume his work, but then he sighs and says, “Fine, just come over here.”

The smile immediately blooms across your face, it’s the pure and genuine kind of smile that infects all of your facial features. And in the darkness, you spot the slightest smallest quirk upwards of his lips too as you crawl across the bed to plop yourself onto his lap. His hands instinctively run up your bare thighs and rest on your ass as you straddle him. The chair turns from the momentum you induce so your back is facing his computer and his face is once again lit up.

Your arms snake up his chest and around his neck, their permanent place of residence. You bask in every drop of his attention, loving the way he silent studies every inch of your face.

“You called me annoying and needy.” Brows drawing, you pout at him, luring out more of his care.

“That’s synonymous with cute, don’t you know me?”

You giggle, forehead falling onto his. Your legs feel warm on top of him, especially as he begins to feathering up and down them, his fingers tickling your ass more and more each time. Goosebumps.

“You can’t walk around with no pants like that, baby girl.” You feel a sudden pulse on your clit at his name for you. His pinky is fiddling with the lace of your thong now, and habitually you press your crotch onto his. “You’re so impatient.” His other hand reaches for your face, touch trailing down your jaw so soft it feels like a ghost. “So demanding.” He squeezes your ass.

Nose brushing, Yoongi glimpses up at you through his lashes and you know you’ve won. He has succumbed to you.

His kisses taste like midnight coffee. Slow, lethargic, but no less passionate. He removes the headphones from around his neck without breaking the seal between your lips, hauling you further up his lap until you feel his semi-hard member jab at your core. And when you dare grind your clothed slit over him lasciviously, you both shudder at the friction, his own hips buckling up to meet you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your bottom, guiding your idle rhythm.

“It’s ‘coz I want you.” You whisper into his mouth. “I always want you.”

The throaty groan he releases is enough to gather a rich dampness between your legs. You wonder if he can feel how wet you are as you rub yourself over him.

“Well, if you had waited a little longer,” he pauses to nibble the skin of your neck, “you would have found out that I was planning on eating you out tonight as soon as I’m done with this track.”

Your breath snags in your throat, almost as if he had bitten into your jugular. Hands traveling up his shirt, you cosset his soft milky skin, he himself mirroring your action.

“And… are you done with this track?”

“No. But priorities.”

Yoongi lifts you off his lap onto the desk, his mouse gliding away at the contact with your side. And slowly, head burrowing under your shirt, he sucks purple petals onto your breasts, teasing your nipple between his teeth. Then comes the languid trail of kisses from your sternum down to navel, tongue marking a wet path to your cunt.

As he tugs your panties off, he peaks out from under your shirt, gives that lazy lopsided smirk of his that made you fall in love with him in the first place, then disappears underneath again. Kissing your thighs nearer and nearer to you slick, he props your legs over his shoulders and you can’t help but pull him closer with your ankles.

Fuck, you’re already a goner.

When his warm mouth meets your clit, you jerk up, narrowly avoiding slamming your palm onto his keyboard. If making music is what Yoongi is best at, then devouring your pussy is what he’s second best at.

Your moan is unsuppressed. Each time his tongue flickers around your clit, you feel a pulse of desire ripple through you. He doesn’t stop, showing no mercy because this is what you had ask for, so this is what you shall receive. You want him? You have him. And when he inserts two fingers while he sucks on your swollen bud, teeth scraping at your folds, you call out his name like he’s your religion.

He makes you come thrice that night. All times on his desk.

05/11/19

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thermie · 3 years ago

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For the meme! Norwegian Angelica, Pincushion, Pink, Primrose, Sunflower

Heyo! :)) Thanks for asking, and so many! I like sunflowers! And don't recognize any other flowers here! :D Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

Hmm, it's hard to be concise as I've had a complicated relationship with her to say the least. But I'm sort of trying to reach out intermittently (once in a couple months hah) again so that's something. But my mother is someone very in touch with nature and animals, she grew up in the countryside and is still very much a country girl as she now keeps goats, ducks, chickens, turkeys etc. She has told me that she has no need for antidepressants because she can just go to the forest, for example, which, well, shows both her medicine-hate and nature-love hah. She used to be very hardworking - she almost got a PhD in chemistry like my father but three kids and the house and a business was a bit too much to also write a thesis. Because of this and other things, she's.... currently I'd best describe her as horribly burnt out and depressed and self-depreciative. But she is easy to talk to, she will carry the conversation and she will tell her side eagerly and at least listen to yours - she both is probably lonely and has this need to be always presentable and talk to her family a bit like we're business partners she needs to convince which I used to hate, and she will tell you about how horrible she has it at the drop of the hat. When in a room with others, she will most often stay silent and listen, however, she used to say that she liked to just listen when me and siblings would talk. She has her own, mostly non-explicit ways of showing she cares, and you know, hey I managed to write a p alright summary that wasn't just unprocessed anger, yay for me. Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

Mm, I assume this deals with physical pain. I've been quite lucky thus far and have no chronic pains except the normal millenial achy knees sometimes. Since I already mentioned above that I grew up in a pretty anti-medicine household, I didn't use an ibumetin or paracetamol for anything not mirstamā kaite (dying sickness) until I was like... 19. So I just kinda, uh, waited it out I guess? Which is largely still the mode of action for me nowadays, though now I usually take ibumetin, that's about it. I always thought I deal with pain p well and have a high tolerance and I definitely am quite good at pushing myself through it when needed but really I'd rather I didn't have to feel that toothache while having to focus on the paper or smth. I actually had pretty strong period cramps a week or so ago that I usually don't get and then I just... took one ibumetin, finished off the research paper, took another ibumetin because holy shit, complained to friends, played assassins creed until the pain faded a bit and got back to studying :D Also re: mental pain, well, I've had 2 years of therapy to sort of help with that, and I find the thing that works most reliably to me is the schema therapy caring parent/vulnerable child thing, I just sorta. Listen to the pain and hear it and then console it. Be your own parent 2kforever.

Pink: Where is home?

Here!

It's quite a cozy flat in an... hm, middle class neighborhood, the owner never shows up and we just pay the rent in his debit card, he's chill with us paying it late and when our stove sort of implodes he comes and buys a new one! I also live with sis which is p great, since, as my therapist pointed out, we've been negotiating how to live in each other's spaces literally since birth so we know how to co-exist (I like my space perhaps more than others - I don't particularly enjoy having friends over and I like that we have sort of come to an arrangement of kitchen is talk space and our rooms are less so). I used to think I didn't get attached to places but now with potential talks of moving that didn't end up anywhere I got so afraid of losing this sense of stability, a place to jump from that I didn't have as solid before. It's my gremlin cave and yes there's mold growing in places that we're too lazy/tired to try to deal with, and sometimes we play chicken about who will cave and wash the dishes or take out the trash, but hey, it's my gremlin cave.

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

Hah, I've actually been on and off daydreaming about winning a million euros in lottery (a pal's gotta dream, alright :D). And then the scenario goes a bit like buy a house with a garden that me and sis and poosssibly my friends would live in, get a car and driving license, travel a bit, stop working at my current job and just vibe for a bit before either moving to the deep countryside and being a farmer or working in businesses as an anthropologist for sense of accomplishement. In the 99.99% case I do not win the lottery, however, I think working in a place where I can both excercise my brain and feel smart and appreciated about doing it would be great, I'm lowkey considering working as an anthropologist if I can wrangle a vacancy in some place. I think I'd like to either continue my slow, slow ventures into writing, or, since I've realized I'm pretty fucking amazing at realizing other's mistakes instead of my own and giving constructive criticism :D go into editing work. But who knows. I mostly want to get enough money to have a bit of property and a garden and be able to sometimes travel, and then a nice job is a luxury. Still sometimes thinking of moving just deep deep into the countryside and buying chickens. But I won't really make much money that way alas. Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without? Mm, well the obvious basics of a roof over my head and food in my tummy tum tum, but besides that, I'd probably say my friends. Be weird old people together. Even if I do move or somehow lose my current friends, I still want to make connections with close friends bc well I find them neat. I don't make a great lonely person.

#personal #a thing #sorry for the novel #but i had to decompress after my day it seems #it is sleeb time now #tomorrow is stressful as shit but afterwards it's smooth sailing baybe

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