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frogtanii · 4 years ago

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kenma x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 2.9k (ahaha)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, liberal use of italics, soft soft, kenma in denial, allusions to marriage, bokuto and kuroo meddling, drinking, declarations of love, SMUT!!! (is marked off!), sub!kenma, handjob + blowjob, slightly insecure!kenma, meiko mentions, enthusiastic consent, one (1) katamari reference, vocal!kenma, uhh

an. good golly gee i HATE ending the endings m so bad at it AND the smut is lil weirder to skip??? like it’s not impossible or anything but it’s not as smooth as atsumu’s, m rlly sorry :((((( but i rlly hope y’all enjoy hehe don’t forget to feed me shawties :3

the loud obnoxious pop music blasting in the crowded bar around kenma made him want to fling himself into the moon at the nearest opportunity.

okay, so that was a little dramatic but the fact still stood.

he was crammed into a tiny booth with kuroo, bokuto, and akaashi, the former brushing up against him with every little movement, making kenma bristle in discomfort.

why the hell did i agree to this, kenma thought while sipping on his cranberry juice. he’d never enjoyed drinking, his true thoughts and feelings coming out way too easily once intoxicated. it was so infuriating being a lightweight, especially when everyone around him was disgustingly drunk.

“are you having fun kenma?” bokuto half yelled, half slurred into his ear from across the table. kenma slouched further into the booth’s stained cushions in response, his lack of answer not bothering bokuto in the slightest.

with the boisterous man’s attention successfully diverted by akaashi, kenma allowed his eyes to wander out over the dance floor but he wasn’t really paying them any mind. instead, his mind was occupied with none other than you.

it shouldn’t have been that surprising considering all the time he’d been spending with you recently. it had been a few months since the hyper house had disbanded and while you were enjoying your time living with your best friends, they had way too much sex. like an abnormal amount.

it had gotten to the point where you were having to abscond from the apartment four times a week because they were just so loud.

at first you had found refuge in the 24 hour cafe a few blocks from your place but falling asleep at a hard wood table only to have to walk home at 2am alone was terrible for your peace of mind (and your back).

you’d started complaining about it at your weekly animal crossing hang outs with kenma and he’d offered the brilliant solution of you coming over to his place when makki and mattsun were otherwise... occupied.

you were shocked at his suggestion and aptly so. it was no news that kenma absolutely hated hosting and having people over, especially since he was one of the few former members that were able to afford their own place straight out the gate.

when you’d expressed this, all he had said was, you’re different.

that wasn’t enough for you, evidenced by your once again nightly stays at the cafe but when you had to run home because someone was following you, you begrudgingly agreed to kenma’s offer and started sleeping at his house multiple times a week.

it was a bit to get used to at first, seeing you first thing in the morning with messy hair and sleep-swollen eyes. you were beautiful jarring. but, as time passed, he got used to your presence, making your drink of choice and sliding him his tea in the morning, sending him a soft smile that had him running to the bathroom to hide his blush.

it was all... strangely domestic.

even now, the thought of you in your threadbare sleep shirt, standing in his kitchen while cooking breakfast sent a wave of heat across his face, spreading up to the tips of his ears.

“what are you thinking about that’s got you so red?” kuroo teased, pulling the glass out of kenma’s hands, laughing at his annoying glare. he hoped he could ignore the question as he so often did, but apparently he wasn’t so lucky.

bokuto cackled in his seat before calling out your name, sending a chill of fear down kenma’s spine. “bet he’s thinkin about her! about how he wants to smooch her and maybe more,” he waggled his eyebrows, “i’m just saying!”

the rest of the table let out good natured laughs but kenma was preoccupied with replaying what bokuto had said.

i mean, sure he thought you were pretty, but anyone with eyes would agree! and yeah, maybe spending time with you was the highlight of his week, but it wasn’t his fault you were so genuinely enjoyable to be around. and of course, sometimes when it was late at night, his mind would wander to you and how it would feel to wake up beside you instead of across the hall from you and—

fuck. he liked you. a lot.

then, as if you somehow knew exactly what was on his mind (a terrifying thought to entertain), his phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket. he pulled it out quickly to check it and he hated how his heart picked up in his chest at the sight of your contact name.

[sussy baka <3]: wya shawty 🤨 u have no food in ur fridge n m hungry seen 13:20

[player ew]: s boys night seen 13:22

[sussy baka <3]: 😐

[sussy baka <3]: are u having fun seen 13:25

[player ew]: ... seen 13:28

[sussy baka <3]: yeah that’s what i thought

[sussy baka <3]: bring home some ramen <3 seen 13:31

home. god, if he didn’t like the sound of that coming from you. it took kenma no time at all to start packing up his things, ignoring the knowing looks on his friends faces as he tossed down a couple of bills for his drink and left to go home, where you were.

after stopping at the convenient store, he headed to his apartment building, shopping bag full of ramen in one hand and heart in the other.

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get bokuto’s annoying voice out of his head, telling him that he liked you. and now that he knew it was true? he was kind of spiraling.

the ding of the elevator managed to somehow shake him out of his thoughts, at least for him to get to his front door, but once it was open, all coherent brain activity immediately dissolved.

you were sitting on his couch in the living room, bundled up in one of his mario blankets and wearing one of his hoodies as you watched some animal documentary raptly, sheer disgust written all over your face.

kenma gulped.

he managed to work up the courage to actually enter his apartment, kicking off his shoes by the door and beelining towards the kitchen, not missing your excited call of his name and wide grin.

biting down any other unchecked feelings, he quickly set to work boiling the water for the ramen and then... stood there. boiling water would take a while and he knew he couldn’t avoid you forever but he really, really didn’t want to go sit by you with all these emotions sitting right on his chest.

“kenma, they’re gonna eat the seal!” you yelled from the couch, waving him over frantically. how was he supposed to say no to brutal animal murder on tv? kenma chuckled dryly at his own joke as he made his way over to where you sat, plopping himself on the side of the couch furthest away from you.

he told himself he just didn’t want to bug you when he had to go check the water but he knew it was a lie. he was running from his feelings, from anything that could ruin this.

you shot him a concerned look which he caught out of the corner of his eye but he kept his head firmly forward, unwilling to look at you if he didn’t have to. “kenma, what’s wrong? was boys night that bad?” you asked gently, and fuck if that didn’t make him feel worse.

kenma just shook his head, still choosing not to face you. you let out a long, arduous sigh before scooting across the couch and pressing yourself to his side, pulling his head down to rest on your chest while taking one of his hands into your own.

what the fuck. what the fuck?!1!?1!!?1!

you were so soft and warm and your arms around him made him feel things which was exactly what he was trying to avoid but then you actually started to speak and oh shit it got worse.

“kenma,” you started, running your hands through his deep brown locks, “you know you can talk to me about anything right?”

of course he knew that because this was you and you were so kind and considerate and badass and cool and that was all precisely why he couldn’t talk to you about everything, especially when it came to his emperor of the cosmos sized feelings for you.

but, instead of saying any of that, he allowed you to continue, his body relaxing into your hold against his will.

“i bother you because i care about you and i worry, you know. i know you’re strong and you can take care of yourself but i can’t help it...” if kenma was really listening, he would’ve heard the shakiness in your voice, the apprehension in your words but he didn’t. “i can’t help it because i like you, kenma.”

you... what?

kenma pushed himself off of you to look you in the face, to find any sign that you’re pranking him or just being cruel but he couldn’t find any.

still, he couldn’t take you at your word, after all who would like someone like him?

“say it again,” his voice comes just under a whisper, his words stilted and unsure but he needs to know, he needs to believe you. he wants to believe you.

“i like you.” you don’t use any big, flowery words, nor do you try and justify why you like him and still, somehow it’s enough. kenma’s eyes filled with tears as they’re trained on you but your eyes were occupied elsewhere.

staring at his lips.

“can i kiss you?” you asked softly, not pressuring or forceful but like that was truly just on your mind and you had to ask it. kenma wasn’t sure how he was supposed to resist when you asked him like that. “please,” was his response, already breathy and absolutely wrecked.

you obliged.

•••smut begin•••

surging forward, you pressed your mouth to his, soft lips meeting chapped ones as you moved them insistently against his own. kenma let out an embarrassing whine at the contact, his hands balling into fists by his sides.

yours, on the other hand, wandered, tracing over the hills and valleys of his chest and back before landing right under the hem of his hoodie. you pulled back, laughing quietly at the way he so eagerly chased your lips while halting him with a hand to his sternum.

“can i take this off?” kenma nodded enthusiastically before he could stop himself and you let out another soft huff as you busied yourself with getting him naked.

he tried to help you where he could, but he was ultimately resigned to bask in your movements, in your control as you manhandled him out of every article of clothing he was wearing until he was as naked as the day he was born.

immediately, the insecurities took hold of him, his mouth opening to stutter out an apology for how he looked. meiko’s voice played in his ears, reminding him he wasn’t what the girls went for being too skinny, too sensitive, too loud.

kenma moved to pick his clothes back up to cover himself before retreating to his room where he could die of shame but your firm hand kept him where he sat.

“you’re beautiful,” you said, like you were saying the sky was blue or the grass was green — as an irrefutable fact. your brows were furrowed at first but the expression melted away to show a softer one, one full of love, admiration, and... lust.

a high-pitched whimper left his lips at your gaze, his cock throbbing against his thigh. you grinned and moved back in to kiss him, your hand moving to his throat to hold him in place, his adam’s apple bobbing against your palm.

your other, unoccupied, hand traveled down his body to rub over a nipple, his back arching into your touch as his breath hitched against your mouth. you let out a hum of approval, continuing your ministrations of pinching and plucking the hard bud before moving further down to take a hold of his cock.

kenma broke away from you, a choked wail erupting from his chest as he bucked up into your grip. “can i make you feel good? can i show you how beautiful you are?” you asked earnestly, your thumb gently caressing his jaw.

“please, please, please,” he begged. under normal circumstances, he would be embarrassed at how easily he’d been folding for you, but it was so much easier to just submit to your capable and willing hands.

“good boy,” you tacked on mindlessly, your blown eyes and kiss-swollen lips only adding to your debauched look. internally, kenma preened at the fact that he was responsible for you looking like that, so feral like you just wanted to eat him up.

which was apparently exactly what you wanted to do, evidenced by you sliding onto your knees in front of him, pressing kisses and sucking marks into his pale thighs.

kenma’s hips stuttered beneath you as he watched you get closer and closer to his throbbing member, the tip already bright red and leaking precum.

suddenly, your eyes shot up to his, pinning him with an intense stare as you slowly, slowly brought him to your mouth, the wet heat enveloping the head before you closed your lips around him and sucked.

holy fucking shit.

his reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips bucked up into your mouth, and a filthy moan escaped from him as you started to get into a nice rhythm sucking his cock.

kenma could barely keep himself quiet, especially when you began toying with his balls, the feeling adding to the coil tightening in his gut.

you pulled all the way off of him before sucking him down the hilt, his mouth opening in a silent scream as you choked around his length, the pleasure that your throat was bringing while you pulsed around him was otherworldly.

he was going to die, he resigned. he was going to die by the biggest orgasm he’d ever had with his penis in your mouth and he was going to love every second of it.

a sharp tap to his inner thigh brought him back down to earth, this bleary eyes trying to focus on your face and once they did, he was taken aback. your eyes held such fondness, such love that he could hardly take it.

kenma couldn’t hold back his thoughts, especially under the intensity of your gaze, his mouth opening to gasp out, “i love you, shit, i love you.”

you pulled off him with a pop but you didn’t stop stroking him, your hand picking up the pace to the point that his thighs were quivering with the strength of his oncoming orgasm.

“say it again,” you threw his words right back at him and if he’d been in his right mind, he might’ve laughed but since he was drowning in pleasure, he immediately followed your orders, groaning out those three words over and over until he was hoarse.

you seemed to enjoy it, so much so that you took the palm of your hand and toyed with the sensitive tip of his cock, sending him right over the edge.

his vision whited out completely as he came with a loud cry of your name, tears trailing from his lashline from the sheer severity of his orgasm, one hand grasped tightly in yours.

•••smut over•••

as kenma came down from his high, he watched you brush his hair from his face before pressing a kiss to his hairline.

“you know, i love you too,” you stated, pulling him up to rest his spent body against your own. he scoffed while playing with your hand, toying with your bare ring finger in a way that you knew was deliberate.

“i figured, you just sucked my dick.” you protested loudly, smacking him gently on the arm when he snickered at your reaction. after your laughter died down, he rested his head back over your heart, listening to the steady beat thrumming beneath his ear.

your hands tangled back into his hair and he felt himself drifting off into dreamland when a loud meow startled him awake again. kyabia (or caviar) stared up at him with unblinking feline eyes, her tail swishing silently against the floor. “oh god, my cat is seeing me naked,” he gasped in horror, your chest heaving against his ear as you cackled.

kyabia quickly got bored and scampered off to who knows where and by that time, kenma was ready to knock back out. you were still laughing though and since you were his human pillow, that just wouldn’t do.

shoving you down on the couch, he buried his head in your chest and muttered a blunt, “sleep,” ignoring the way your giggle made a smile spread across his cheeks.

obviously, you could tell if your own matching grin was anything to go by but you let it be, instead choosing to wrap your arms around him and hold him tighter to your body, like you were trying to pour all your love into the embrace.

kenma only hoped that you would also “let it be” when you caught him ring shopping on his phone just a few weeks later.

it was only a matter of time. why delay when he loved you and you loved him? he knew he couldn’t wait until he could officially call you his.

after all, kozume yn had a nice ring to it.

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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sapphicwhxre · 4 years ago

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behind closed doors

♡ pairing: harry potter x reader x ginny weasley

♡ summary: ginny wants to add a third person to her sex life with harry and you make them both glad he said yes.

♡ requested: yes | no

♡ warnings: oh my god it's FILTH ─ swearing, threesome smut, oral sex (female & male receiving), face fucking, fingering, vaginal sex, praise/possession kink, scissoring, overstimulation, nipple play/praise, cum slut stuff but i got no clue what to tag that as. also i didn’t proofread or edit because if i reread any of this shit i know it won’t get posted LMAO

it was funny, really.

everyone thought the chosen one was this awkward, inexperienced git when it came to sex. and they all thought the youngest and only girl of the weasleys must be this pure little princess. but, they were oh so wrong and you knew that first hand.

you knew because harry was almost at his breaking point. he didn’t think there was anything as precious or plain sexy as ginevra weasley but merlin, did she have some odd kinks. he’d do them all for her, even enjoyed some of them. but this one had harry redder than dragon breath.

“ginny, i don’t want another guy with his hands on you when we’re being intimate!”

finally snapping, harry was flushed and frustrated. it was the second time ginny had brought up the possibility of bringing another person into their bedroom and harry did not see the appeal. the weasley girl perked an eyebrow, however, and laughed.

“who said anything about a guy, dear?” ginny toyed with a charm on the bracelet you’d given her and shook her head. “you know my friend, y/n, don’t you?”

the boy’s eyes widened behind his glasses and his mouth went a bit dry. “yes,” was all he managed, trying to remember what house you were even in. what he did remember was that you were quite the sight to look at.

ginny grabbed harry's hand, “we had a bit of a thing before you and i. she’s a fun person, she’d do it without any strings attached.”

how had harry had no idea that his girlfriend had been sleeping with y/n? and why did the idea of letting her into the equation arouse him so much? although surprised that ginny felt absolutely no jealousy or even batted an eye at the situation, he found himself grinning when ginny did at his sudden nod.

this was how you’d ended up with harry potter’s cock buried in your pussy while your face was in ginny’s. and right now, it wasn’t very funny at all. what it was fell under the category of fucking like heaven.

“oh, good girl, just like that, y/n!”

ginny moaned with her head thrown back. her eyes were rolling back into her head with every moan she heard from her boyfriend paired with the warm vibrations of yours meeting her pussy. “look so pretty, taking harry’s cock for us,” you responded to her dirty praise by a finger into her dripping cunt, your tongue still assaulting her folds and your ass in the air. she moaned even louder and barely made eye contact with harry, who was still thrusting into your clenching walls. “so good, y/n... blimey, gin, she’s so tight,”

“and ours,” the panting girl added, her hands now gripping your hair messily. “our pretty little slut, in’t that right, harry?” he agreed with a rather distracted grunt but ginny was too occupied to respond, screaming as you put your fingers as deep into her as you could, curling and pumping while your tongue kept adoring her clit. “oh, y/n, y/n, y/n,” it was impossible at this point to tell whose moans were whose and who was saying your name louder, but either way it was addicting.

“f-fuck!” you babbled incoherently, harry and ginny's names both getting lost on the way out of your mouth. harry burst into you with a final, shallow thrust, moaning like a porn star. your orgasm clenched your stomach and your walls tightened around harry’s dick while you came, the white liquid seeping out into ginny’s view. your breathy moan was hot on ginny’s throbbing pink pussy and the sight made her want to come, hard. you took your fingers away and instantly replaced them with your tongue. gripping her thighs tightly, you let all of her sweet cum enter your mouth and drip down your chin eagerly.

“oh, that’s a good girl,” ginny was breathing fast and giving both of you a toothy grin ─ one which you and harry returned. “how hot does she look, harry?”

“so hot,” harry gasped, forehead sweaty and cheeks flushed red. “so hot covered in our cum, she knows that, doesn’t she?”

nodding and flustered, you tried to gather yourself after being fucked and fucking ginny at the same time but you were flipped onto your back. a loud yelp caught both ginny and harry and they both wore different smirks on their face. harry's said he was nothing short of loving the experience and ginny was thinking of ways to make it better for the former... and herself.

“open,” she commanded, biting her bottom lip with the cockiest look on her face. without any hesitation, you spread your legs as wide as you could to let ginny do whatever she wanted with you. “good little girl, you’ll be rewarded,” she hummed and you were desperate to be touched again. “but first ‘m gonna let harry have a bit more fun, show him just how good you are with that pretty mouth.”

the messy haired boy was already pumping up and down his shaft, tip as pink as his cheeks. “open?” harry’s request was softer but in some way, just as sexy as ginny’s. you parted your lips just enough to take his tip between them and sucked softly, eyes intent on harry while you did so. his were already scrunched in need and you made your way down, cum covered lips and saliva wetting his dick for you to suck him better. with hollowed cheeks, you bobbed up and down on his length, feeling more and more satisfied with his bucks hitting your throat. even gagging on his cock and nose hitting right above where he was slapping against his own skin, you moaned and sucked until ginny spit on your cunt.

“oh,” you let out muffled on harry. no longer watching you two, ginny was lowering her own pussy onto yours and the heat of both your aroused cunts felt heavenly. you whimpered with your lips around harry, tears streaming down your face, hoping to be touched by ginny. your wish was granted as you moaned muffled again and she sank onto you, using your thigh to ride your pussy. clits rubbing against one another with deliciously rough friction, cock all the way into your mouth, you saw stars. it didn’t even matter whose cum was dripping down your leg when the pleasure you felt was so mindblowing and harry was spilling his seed down your throat. “good little cum slut,” ginny rubbed your clit harshly.

“ginny, this is so good,” you groaned, on the verge of a sob, “but ‘m too sensitive, just let me please you guys,”

as if you’d told a funny joke, she laughed and turned to harry. “your turn baby, i want that pretty, pretty mouth back between my legs now that she’s all swollen and sexy,”

“poor thing,” harry chuckled at your scream when he attached his mouth to your soaked and abused pussy. his hands yanked you by the ass and he ate you out like you were a fucking pumpkin pasty. ginny lowered to sit this time on your mouth, facing harry’s buried head. whimpering almost pitifully, though extremely sexy to the couple you were pleasing, your tongue took messy movements to ginny’s pussy.

she was so wet that it didn't matter how out of it the sensations had you, your open mouth on her core was enough to have ginny spitting moan after moan. “cum now, y/n, i know you’ve got another one left in you,” harry cooed. you couldn’t even object with your mouth so preoccupied and all coherent thoughts being smashed by harry’s tongue fucking your hole. “that's it,” his teeth grazed you while you came and your sob on ginny’s pussy sent her to the very edge of her orgasm.

right then and there, she could have orgasmed all over your flushed face but she held on and took her pale fingers to your breasts. “i think she’s got one more in her harry, fuck her one more time,” she purred, hips bucking on your lips. the strangled moan you exhaled made harry beam while he prepared to enter you again. “you love it, don't you?” your mouth tasting between ginny’s slick folds wouldn’t let you scream his name, but you desperately wanted to when harry pushed all of his inches into you. “being just a pretty cum slut?”

in only a minute, ginny’s release washed over your face and flooded your senses. all you tasted was the last ginny had before she collpased beside you, panting heavily. she watched as harry kept fucking you like you were theirs. “pretty tits bouncing, shame we didn't give ‘em too much attention,” she chirped. your teary eyes widened, you weren’t sure if you could take ginny touching your breasts on top of harry pounding into you. but you desperately wanted to.

it must have showed in your eyes, or admittedly, in ginny’s desire because she wrapped her lips around one of your nipples and pinched the other one before switching to soft flicking. “so tasty,” she alternated, praising both your tits with her skilled fingers and warm mouth. about to coax you into your orgasm, you finished loudly and harry let himself release the second that you did. pulling out, he found his way next to ginny and wrapped his hands around her waist while she focused on your tits, tired yet euphoric. “aren’t they perfect?” ginny hummed contently and released them, and harry stroked your hair and ginny's.

“y’know, perfect’s just one word i’d use for this.”

the lovely filth of having the wild versions of harry potter and ginny weasley all to yourself were some of your best nights, you often thought. though you supposed deep down that they were the ones who had you to themselves, you didn’t care. what mattered much more was that you ─ and certainly ginny and harry ─ were quite glad that you were their good, little slut.

─────♡

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satanwritesfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Cicero lives to serve

Ship: Cicero x f!reader

Triggers: only smut and the absolute cringe I experienced by proofreading

Characters: Cicero, f!reader

Wordcount: 1922

a/n: idk man, hope you enjoy the den of iniquity-

***

Bodies against one another, gasps, moans.. a piece you'd not exactly voice as the thoughts turn in tune with the hand desperately working between your legs.

You had pictured him, as inappropriate as it may have been, it wasn't the first time either. You pictured him behind you this time, hand locked into your hair and using your body as he wished. He would pull you flush against him and whisper obscene things against your skin before biting down and you'd cry out.

These thoughts would on occasion bleed over into reality as you'd audibly voiced your frustrations and ecstasy, being away from the sanctuary so much, it has never quite been an issue, just something that brought a heat to your cheeks when you had been coherent enough to notice it.

You knew you made the mistake again and listened for any sound but nothing seemed amiss as your body froze and then, you continued, thoughts of his hand on your bare body, pushing and pulling and bruising in the most delicious way.

And then everything was brought back. "Cicero lives to serve." The voice came from outside your illusions and you froze, eyes shot open in fear as it went to the source.

You hadn't been dressed exactly decent with only the covers to hide some of your bare body. No doubts of what you were doing, hand almost knuckle deep within your warmth. You were flushed, heat burning on your cheeks, searing almost.

He smiled but you were unsure if it was his usual demeanor or a new grin at your predicament. Presumably caught with your most inner thoughts of him on the table, exposed.

You removed your hand from you and pulled the covers to at least cover some parts of you that were on display. "I'm sorry, Cicero, I didn't mean to-"

You were at a loss of words but luckily you didn't have to give more as Cicero spoke again. "Oh no no no, Listener. No apologies needed for dear Cicero. " He stalked closer and in this moment you felt like prey as his eyes were trained on you. "Cicero lives to serve." He repeated the phrase. "Listener should've told Cicero, Cicero is more than happy to help."

He leaned over, placing a chaste kiss to your lips and grinned. "Cicero will make it right, Cicero will take care of you."

This time when your lips met it was all fire, hand curling around your middle and pulling you to him as he hovered over your body. Your arms locked around his neck, barely processing as barely covered legs rested at the side of his hips.

He broke the kiss and for a moment he looked down at you, face unreadable and then he placed an open mouthed kiss to your bare neck and then your collarbone, pulling the cover from your body to reveal your breasts. Hands cupped your breasts harshly, a tongue flicking over the left bud while fingers teased the other, the tip of his jester hat tickling your skin as he moved. Sensation not of your own making, making you gasp into the night air.

Your eyes flicked to the ceiling as he moved lower, covers removed from your body and exposed to him completely. This couldn't be happening, it was too good to be real and still, you were terrified of your own actions.

"Cicero has a question for the lisener." He hummed, your thoughts were jolted back to reality as he spoke. "Did listener think of Cicero like this, between the listener's legs."

When his tongue made contact you gasped for air, him licking a line through your folds while he held your hips down. His eyes were trained on you and then he pulled away slightly.

"Answer the question." He spoke but it felt less like a command than the words would suggest.

"Yes." You said, cheeks burning as a hand clasped over your mouth as if it would stop the confession from reaching his ears.

"Then Cicero has something to live up to, hmm?" His lips closed around your clit, he sucked softly and then flicked with his tongue. He removed his one hand that had a vice grip on your hip and placed it at your entrance, pushing a single digit in slowly and watching your body give way to the new sensation when he pumped leisurely within you.

He added another finger and then another, pumping into you as his tongue played with your clit. Not long before it all came together and snapped, your cunt convulsing against his fingers that were still pumping slowly inside you as the world came back to you.

When he pulled away he licked his fingers clean, sitting on his knees while you were sprawled out on the bed, breathing heavy. You bare as the day you were born and him still fully clothed including the now slightly crooked jester hat with a certain hardness pressing against his pants just below his abdomen.

You bit your lip as you got onto your knees, hands working to rid him of his shirt. You were shaking a bit to which he wrapped a hand softly over yours to halt your actions. You looked up at his eyes and he wasn't grinning anymore. There was a faint smile but it was a look you couldn't decipher. Your heart pounded against your chest as you wondered about the reason he would stop your actions. Perhaps this was just serving your needs and nothing beyond the duties he has for the Brotherhood and your title as listener.

Your mind recoiled, feelings clashing against each other inside you. Pleasure and pain mixing into something toxic until the reason for him stopping presumably reared its head as he quickly rid himself of the jester jacket.

Your mind slightly agape as you were faced with skin you had never seen before, a chest covered in scars from his past as an assassin and from a time more recent when you had refused to take his life.

Your fingers softly ran across the lines on his chest, muscle and scars alike, and he allowed you that moment. If not for you then certainly for himself. It had been a very long time since someone had seen so much of him nevermind touched him so delicately, furthermore, that person was you, his listener.

Cicero had been so taken by you, the intelligence and strength. Someone to be feared and admired, it was an odd throught to him that everyone didn't praise the ground you walked on like he would. You were all these apposing qualities meshed together into something otherworldly. Strong but soft, killer instinct but caring... Perfect.

You looked into his eyes, pressing your bare body against his as you kissed him deeply. Unsure hands rested on your hips and then experimentally roamed your back until a hand tangled into your hair giving him the ability to keep you flush to him as your body rocked softly against his with the motion of your lips working against each other.

He broke the kiss but still held you close to him. Your hands moved towards the pants he was still wearing to which he pushed you closer to him to halt your actions.

His eyes closed momentarily and from this close you could see the clench of his jaw. It was a few moments before he looked back at you. "Is the listener sure this is what the listener wants?" His voice was less high and a bit cracked at the end.

You nodded and he let go of the hold he had on you only to push you back against the bed. He quickly rid himself of his boots and then the rest of his clothing including the jester hat. He hovered over you, nothing in between the two of you now, bare as the day you were born.

He pressed a kiss to your lips. You felt something blunt press against your core and then his hips moved, running his cock up and down your folds as he groaned softly. The slight friction was electrifying but not quite hitting the spot.

"Cicero.." you pleaded, voice barely above a whisper.

"Tell me what my listener wants. " He purred, placing a few open mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

"Please.. " you breathed, eyes closed as different sensations teased you but was just short of enough. "I need you inside me."

A grin spread across his lips and he pressed another kiss to your temple before fiddling between your legs, taking hold of his cock and lining up to your entrance. He pressed slowly, cautiously filling you up. You bit into your palm as your body gave way to the new sensation, a slight sting but not unpleasantly so.

"Cicero wondered.." he breathed as his hips slowly moved in and out as your body gave way. "What it would... Oh, be like... thoughts don't compare.. to this. Close.. So tight.. wet."

His thrusts turned sharp, body screaming with each thrust of his hips, filling you so deliciously. Your breath had been stolen and soft cries for the jester falling from your lips as praises left his.

Nails dug into his shoulders, bed groaning with every thrust. Your memories, your illusions, none could compare how he played your body now. The angle of his hips, the power behind his thrusts, the way he spoke when he said you were being so good to him, it all pushing you further and further until you were right on the edge.

The grunts of 'listener' echoing inside your mind as legs wrapped around his hips. The new angle elicited a new cry that originated from deep within, involuntarily. Your nails dug into his back as you felt your release crawling ever closer.

"I-I'm close." You breathed, eyes clenched shut you tried to hold onto the world around you.

"Come for me, (Y/n)." He grunted against your skin, delivering an especially powerful thrust before pressing your lips to his in a quick kiss.

You gasped as the words reached you. A name, unimportant from anyone else but coming from him it felt so intimate and raw. Special. You cried out, back arching as you let go, jumping off the edge into the sweet waters that waited below. Muscles tensed impossibly, making it hard for Cicero to move and then your body relaxed around him.

The tightness of your body pushed him impossibly further, another few sharp thrusts and he stilled buried inside you with a groan. You felt warmth spread inside you as he came. Chaste kisses were pressed to your heated body as he held your bodies in place. Neck, collarbone, shoulder. Featherlight, his lips moved as you caught your breath until he pulled himself from you, small sounds falling from your lips when he did.

He laid down beside you, head held up by the elbow he had planted on the bed as he looked at you, grin playing on his lips. "Did Cicero serve the lisener well?" He asked, fingers softly running across the skin on your stomach and drawing elaborate patterns there.

A soft blush scattered along your cheeks as you giggled softly. "Yes, Cicero."

He nodded and there was silence for a few moments before the movement against your stomach stopped. "Listener should let Cicero know when the listener requires.. assistance. Cicero is more than happy to help."

You smiled. "I'll remember that." You said and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

#cicero #smut #satanwritesfanfiction #skyrim

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years ago

Text

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[015] — the half of it!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: keep in the mind that y/n doesn’t have a faceclaim so that instagram photo is not a visual representation

also this wasn’t proofread and lowkey i’m not sure if this entire chapter even makes sense. read with caution lmao

the night went by in a flash with the second hour passing just as quickly as the first one. you were grateful that there wasn’t a single ounce of awkwardness drenching the lighthearted atmosphere of the restaurant when bokuto arrived fashionably late—rather that’s what he told you and the rest of the ddd team when he slid into the booth right across from you.

however, if bokuto was truly being honest, he actually made it right on time, yet something in him had held him back longer. he probably took a good fifteen minutes sitting in his car as if he was waiting for a sign to fucking walk in already. bokuto would have been lying to himself if he didn’t believe (even for a second) that he was absolutely terrified to see your face. no matter how much he wanted to see you again, the mere thought of your past relationship with iwaizumi had his knuckles turning alabaster as he gripped his steering wheel.

the athlete scoffed at his state that was so unbelievably wrapped around this idea that happened such a long time ago. admittedly, why in the hell would thee bokuto koutarou of the msby black jackals be hung up over a girl from high school anyway? he wanted to laugh at himself because akaashi was right.

it simply didn’t matter anymore.

or at least that’s what bokuto kept affirming in his head over and over and over again as he marched himself into that restaurant. there was confidence in the way he approached the nearly filled booth, yet the moment you shifted your eyes towards him, it all melted into oblivion.

goddammit, why did akaashi force him to sit across from you? it’s almost like he knew exactly how to torment both you and bokuto just by asking sugawara to scoot closer to the other side of the bench.

surprisingly, bokuto can handle his alcohol and knows how to moderate his drinking habits, yet tonight was his only exception. with you constantly throwing him knowing glances that reminded him of your shared relationship, it was his only driving force that kept him throwing his head back with shot after shot of soju.

by the time the entire group was all set and done, everyone was considerably drunk. it was kaori, yuko, and bokuto who were so severely wasted that it honestly forced you and the rest of the group to hold back in order to get everyone home safe and sound.

semi, who was sitting next to you, stands up first as the bill is handed back. “kaori and i will head out first. you guys get home safe, okay?”

you nod, waving ddd’s musician goodbye as he helps a tipsy kaori from stumbling over herself.

“i guess i should get going too,” sugawara adds in a beat later, motioning to yuko with her eyes closed and rested against the wall right behind her. “i know damn well she’s going to make me carry her ass up to her apartment.”

“bye, stay safe.” akaashi mutters as the four exit the restaurant, leaving you, him, and a drunken bokuto.

you held back an amused chuckle as akaashi gave you a look satiated in aversion. you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit guilty knowing that he’s going to be the one struggling trying to take bokuto back home safe despite knowing damn well it was going to happen sooner or later as the night of drinking continued.

akaashi let out a sigh, “well... guess i should take this one home too, shouldn’t i. you can go home first since you live close.” he offers, but you quickly decline.

“no, it’s fine.” you shook your head as you stood from your seat, “since i live so close, we could try and get him sobered up a bit so it’s easier for you to take him home.”

“are you sure?” asked akaashi as you gathered your things.

nodding, you make your way around the table to help bokuto stand. “yeah, i kind of feel bad. i don’t know if you noticed, but something was up with him today.”

perhaps akaashi was glad you didn’t notice the way his expression suddenly changed. he didn’t want to pry too much into your personal life or your past, but he knew damn well that the secrets need to be told. you two have been good friends since high school, yet it wasn’t until you and akaashi started working together with love cemetery did you two become so close. it’s never his business to be so caught up in whatever web you somehow got caught in literally years after everything happened, yet here you guys were.

he couldn’t stand and watch his best friend potentially hurt because of your in ability of communicate. granted, akaashi knew how personal those feelings were to you with no way to express it.

that’s the entire reason why you started love cemetery anyway—your both your relationships with iwaizumi and bokuto ended so abruptly, if you thought about it hard enough, there was no distinct closure despite ending on good terms with both of them. this, this sense of blurred lines of your webtoon and your past relationships were honestly just a coping mechanism for you.

how badly did akaashi just wanted to sit you down and talk your head on straight, but once again:

it wasn’t his business.

“alright, then.” akaashi sighs, helping you lead bokuto into his car. “let’s go.”

there was a special sense of silence in the air that tensed the moment akaashi started the car, engine humming in the background of the radio on low volume. the bright downtown tokyo lights simmered down as they reached the suburban areas of the city, filling you with a sense of serene peace as fatigue was slowly catching up to you as well.

a weight fell on your shoulder then as the car pulled into a stop. bokuto’s white hair brushed against your cheek as you looked down on him, pushing the man up and towards akaashi who had opened the door opposite from you.

the volleyball player muttered something incohesive beneath his breath as his weighted eyes attempted to open. bokuto had no idea where he was, but at this point, he couldn’t care less. he wanted to just crash into bed and sleep until the afternoon.

akaashi let out a grunt as he slung his best friend’s arm over his shoulders, following just behind you as the three of you walk up to your apartment. you threw a glance over your shoulder, watching your poor friend struggling to get the beefy athlete up the last flight of stairs.

an amused laugh left your lips, “are you sure you don’t need any help?” you offered as granted, you did offer to help get bokuto up to your apartment only for akaashi to say no. at this point, his struggle was on him.

“just hurry and unlock the door,” akaashi grumbles.

“right...” you mutter, reaching into your bag for your house keys only to feel a buzzing in your pocket.

“shit.” you say under your breath, forcing your seeping thoughts and increasing heart rate back as you opened the door.

your exes seeing each other at work was a different story. considering that neither of them knew of you past relationship with the ladder, it surely wouldn’t be a problem, but this was literally one of the last things you wanted to happen tonight. like seriously, doesn’t finding a drunk athlete that happens to be from the volleyball team you work for bad enough? surely having bokuto be in your apartment wouldn’t help your case either.

you stepped back into your living room, swallowing the bundle of nerves down your throat as bokuto seemed to regain enough conscious to form coherent words.

“kaashi~” he whined, voice muffled by the pillow he wrapped his muscular arms around. “i’m hungry.”

“we literally just had korean barbeque dude,” his best friend scoffs.

“okay, and?” bokuto pressed on, causing akaashi to roll his eyes.

“fine,” he deadpans before asking, “what do you want?”

the volleyball player smirked slightly, “ramen.”

akaashi stands up then, giving you an unenthused look as you approached him. you feigned a look of shock from appearing on your expression as you brushed past, frustration coating your very figure. this was not good.

a sigh left your lips as your brain scavenged desperately for a plan. at some point, the truth had to be revealed sooner or later whether you liked it or not. you just didn’t like how they both had to find out this way.

you set the water upon the table in front of your sofa, setting the medicine gently upon bokuto’s palm.

bokuto always thought you had the softest hands. he would often find excuses just to hold your hand back when you two used to date. it would always make him feel safe and warm, yet nowadays he still yearned to feel that sense of familiarity again—even if it meant it was the last time he would ever get to.

“thank you,” he says.

“yeah, no problem.” the words left your mouth softer than you had anticipated when bokuto made eye contact with you—familiar and warm as if you were home.

you didn’t know what to think then as you placed yourself next to him, yet still leaving space for comfort. bokuto looked so cute and vulnerable in such a state, how in the hell were you supposed to kick this guy out of your apartment?

the thought spiraled in your head. surely there had an excuse conjured somewhere up in your head. you cleared your throat, “never thought you’d be a lightweight.”

your words left your mouth in a hurry. it seemed a bit unnatural but at this point with bokuto wasted, you barely tipsy yet panicked that iwaizumi is on his way, and akaashi not knowing a single thing besides deliriously making ramen for his best friend—nothing about tonight was natural.

bokuto let out a playfully offended scoff, “i’m not! the alcohol was just strong tonight...”

“whatever you say, kou.” you mused with a smile that left bokuto’s heart racing.

your lips looked nice at the moment. with the dim florescent lights casting shadows upon your face, he wondered whether or not it was a good idea being this dangerously close to you. hell, now that you two were alone and akaashi was preoccupied this would be the perfect place to ask you the questions that had be plaguing his mind all day. that would have been the correct option, yet something within him wanted different with the way bokuto’s gaze flicked down to your lips.

you couldn’t help but notice the way he would look at you, deep brown eyes that would send red heat to your cheeks until it reached your ears. you weren’t exactly sure if he was going to do anything, but it wasn’t like you entirely opposed anyway.

bokuto cleared his throat suddenly as he pulled you both out of your trances.

“can i ask you a question?”

your eyebrows furrow slightly with a tilt of your head, “hm?”

curiously filled you as hesitance drenched bokuto’s thoughts, drying out his mouth as he gulped his drunken nerves. “i know this is from a long time ago,” he starts, not even having enough courage to look at you. “but how come you never told me about your past relationships when we first started dating?”

bokuto’s words sobered him up—he needed to be i order to even comprehend an answer from you whether or not it would suffice. to no surprise did it catch you off guard either. as your eyes has widened into saucers, heart thumping against your ribcage, palm perspiring, all while you searched for a plausible answer in your head. you weren’t entirely sure if you should panic at the chance that bokuto did in fact find out about you and iwaizumi, or if he was just entirely curious.

it certainly didn’t matter if she lied, either, they were bound to find out now that both of them were in your life regularly and they’ve both read love cemetery, they are bound to find out sooner or later. bokuto and iwaizumi had all the clues placed out in front of them, it was just a matter of time when they would piece them all together and connect the dots.

you let out a shaky sigh. the best way to answer this was to be as calm as possible knowing bokuto was drunk and you weren’t entirely sure how he would react. “i just didn’t think think it was an important detail,” you mutter. it was neither a lie or the entire truth.

“i feel like it would’ve made sense to mention it at least.” says bokuto, “i mean... what happened to telling each other everything back then?”

god, you really didn’t want to have this conversation right now, especially when akaashi could easily walk back in. “i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, but it’s not like it’s relevant now, is it? it’s been years.”

“it’s still very much relevant, you know.”

“how so?”

but before bokuto could part his lips to answer, the doorbell rings, sending a sharp echo throughout the apartment. your body immediately stood up, flinching and completely grimacing at the idea that both your pieces are only a few meters apart.

you couldn’t here anything then as you made your way to the door. your the beat of your beat was so loud that you swear bokuto could hear it quicken as you turned the door knob.

capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you cracked the door open slightly with only your head peaking out through small opening.

“hey, (y/n),” the sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine, yet it still ended up comforting you more than expected. you just hoped bokuto couldn’t hear who it was.

“hi, iwaizumi.” you say almost in a harsh whisper.

you cursed yourself internally—of course out of all people, this would happen to you. you couldn’t help but grumble at the fact that surely this was some sort of karma life was giving you a universal punishment. whatever it was, you prayed it would end soon. maybe it should just put you out of your misery...

iwaizumi gave you a charming smile, the moonlight absolutely doing wonders as it casted shadows upon his chiseled face. seriously, can this guy get even more handsome?

you licked your lips absentmindedly at the thought of this as iwaizumi held up your belongings. “i brought your things! sorry for coming by so late, i just wanted to see you tonight.”

crimson red heat decorated your cheeks at his words. your thoughts were going hundreds of miles an hour just by your hands slightly brushing against each other as he handed you your jacket.

“thanks,” was all you could say.

it was calm and light as relief was almost near knowing you two were about to say your goodbyes. yet as fate always liked to give you the short end of the stick, footsteps clambered from behind you.

“(y/n), who’s there?” bokuto’s voice calls out to you rather loudly, causing your eyes to practically jump out of it’s sockets the moment the athlete pulled the door wide open. at the sudden jerky movement, bokuto revealed himself to a surprised athletic trainer.

his eyes blinked together multiple times as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. you see, iwaizumi has always been a rational person when it came to misunderstanding and he would never ever jump to conclusions but at this rate, what else could he really assume seeing his ex-girlfriend and his coworker together late at night?

there was a boiling limbic inkling within iwaizumi that he wasn’t know what it was composed up. it was like a mix of annoyance and unsolicited anger that he couldn’t help but feel his muscles tense and his hands tighten into fists.

the silence that ensued you three was so violently loud that you didn’t know what to do. never in a million years would you have ever imagined that this is how it would all end.

this is how everything would come crumbling down.

fun facts! —

while bokuto was in the parking lot hesitating to go in, satomi was hyping him up the entire time

meanwhile satomi and iwaizumi were actually still at work during all this

satomi thought it was a good chance of alone time with him, but the entire night iwaizumi was hurrying to get his work done so he could see (y/n)

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto smau #bokuto scenarios #bokuto imagines #bokuto fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi smau #iwaizumi fluff

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strawberrywritings · 4 years ago

Note

can i request a Nestor fic where the reader broke it off with him but they see each other and he immediately gets the hint that the reader wants to hook up — smutty plss? 🙈

A/N: I know I am so late writing this, and I haven’t posted in forever, but I hope this makes up for it. You didn’t specify what kind of ending you wanted, so I kinda kept it neutral; Nestor has me squirming just by the way he walks okay bye👀🍓

Warnings: unprotected sexual intercourse, a bit of dirty talk, not proofread

/ Masterlist

It was supposed to be a chill night, to get out of the house for a while and relax. But then he spotted you, having fun with your friends, and he immediately wanted to go home.

You and Nestor had broken up over a month ago, but to him it was still fresh. He wasn’t the one who came up with the decision, but he had to admit that your reasons were fair: he wasn’t home much, he did a dangerous job, he prioritized Miguel over you at anytime… he understood. Still, he was hurt. Then, your gazes met and your smile slightly faltered. You took a moment to look him over, he was wearing dark pants ad a dark shirt, a few buttons undone, his chest peeking out from under it. Handsome as ever. You instinctively licked and bit your lip, turning your eyes away from him and trying to focus on your friends again. It was hard. Every time you glanced back, he was there, you could feel his eyes on you and it made you all hot, knowing you still had his attention even after a month of not being together. You excused yourself and he watched as you got up, glancing at him over your shoulder before heading to the bathroom, hoping he’d get the hint.

You got into the small bathroom, the other opened not even a minute later, Nestor entering the small space and locking the door. You two stood in front of each other, chest to chest, for a couple seconds, not talking, until he took charge and crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was hot, all teeth and tongue, both of you fighting for domination, and it felt like you had never been apart.

From there, it was all ragged breaths, pants, and soft moans. You found yourself pushed against the sink, your dress hiked up on your waist while his pants were unbuckled just enough for him to free himself and pump his dick, your panties resting in the back pocket of his slacks. Your cockiness was replaced with submission for the man standing behind you.

He was the first to speak. “How do you want it?”, he whispered, and you could feel his breath against the back of your head, on the nape of your neck. “Hard”, was your only answer. And despite what you said, he slowly put his tip against your entrance, stroking you and collecting your juices. “Beg for it”, he started to push in ever so slowly and the stretched felt so good you forgot to what he asked you.

“I said beg”, his tone was harsher now, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back. A warning that he wasn’t playing around, he was in control and you had to obey. “Please, Nestor, fuck me hard”, you didn’t hesitate, this time, giving him what he wanted. “Give it to me like I know you can”, you said, your voice strained because of how much your head was pulled back. He was still slow as he bottomed out, stopping for a second to contain himself, and his other hand gripped your hip in a bruising hold, nails digging into your skin. He placed a chaste kiss on your shoulder before he started moving his hips at a punishing pace, letting all his frustration out, making up for all the lost time. You couldn’t contain your moans, and you didn’t care if people outside could hear you.

Having Nestor fuck you raw always had you feeling like you were on cloud nine. And this time wasn’t different. You almost came when you opened your eyes and looked at the reflection in the mirror: Nestor had his hair pulled up in a ponytail, his eyes closed, lips lightly parted as he was losing himself in fucking you. His eyes snapped open when you clenched around him, alerting him you were getting close to your orgasm. He met your eyes in the mirror and smirked, letting your hair go and grabbing your chin, keeping your head in place as he spoke into your ear.

“You like that? Like watching me fuck you senseless? You get off on being treated like a slut, don’t you?”, he smirked even more when you whined loudly and closed you eyes, your body feeling to hot as your brain couldn’t form coherent sentences to answer him. All you could do was nod frantically and push your hips back to meet his thrusts, and you could feel you were almost there.

He licked your neck, softly biting the flesh, and as soon as your body jolted against his, he knew exactly what he had to do. “I know you’re close – he said, his thrusts always fast and hard, and he wrapped his arms around your torso and buried his head in your neck – let me feel you cum all over my dick”. It only took you a couple more thrusts to fulfil his request, and he kept you standing as your body shivered and trembled in his arms. He chuckled when he released you from his hold and you rested your body on the cold surface of the bathroom countertop, completely spent. His hands found your hips again, bringing your body back into his, as he, too, was nearing his climax.

“Where do you want it?”, his voice was hoarse and he couldn’t wait to let go, he had been holding off for too long. Your voice was a bit more sure than moments before as you muttered a “inside”, and he growled as he gave a couple thrusts before stilling his hips against yours and filling you up. Your eyes closed at the familiar feeling of his cum spilling out, and you both took some time to calm down your breathing.

Once he pulled out, you fixed your clothing, him doing the same, trying not to look like you’d just fucked in a bar’s bathroom. You swallowed as your eyes met his again, and this time was different. The neediness gone and replaced with awkwardness. You had just fucked your ex-boyfriend after not hearing or seeing him for a month… what did it mean? You decided not to think about it, and instead you motioned for the door. “I think I’m gonna go, now – his only answer was a nod, he crossed his arms over his chest – I’ll see you around, Nestor”, your hand lightly waved at him and just like you had come in there, you unlocked the door and went out.

The only thing he had left was your panties.

taglist @scuzmunkie @ifoundmyhappythought @starrynite7114 @my-rosegold-soul @peaches007 @sheeshgivemeabreak @brattyfics @blessedboo @everyhowlmarksthedead @justahopelessssromantic @angelreyesgirl @onmyspookysblock @woahitslucyylu @sadeyesgf @general-tiny-mouse @gemini0410 @general-tiny-mouse @elcococruz @cocotheclown @cind-in-real-life @thesandbeneathmytoes @ly--canthrope @samcrobae @mrsjaxtellerfan @danie1432 @destynelseclipsa @noz4a2 @blackmissfrizzle @thickemadame @chibsytelford @thewarriorprincessxo @brownsugarcoffy @enamoured-x @rebel-without-cause-x @krysiewithak @buttercup812 @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @wrcn9fvlcver @mycupoffanfictionreads @marvelmaree @saturnsaree @losolvidad0s

#nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva imagine #mayans mc imagine #my writing

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monocotyledons · 4 years ago

Text

on writing “a body at rest”

This is a companion blog post for my KazeTsuyo fic, A Body at Rest, written for the Ekiden Runners 18+ Discord server New Year’s exchange! I tried a different approach for this fic, so here’s a little bit about my writing process.

For context, I normally follow this writing process for my fics:

Come up with an idea

Let idea develop in my head for a little bit, so I can test if it will work as a full fic or not

Write detailed outline of fic

Turn outline into a first draft. This takes several days, and I often go back and edit already-written sections as I get ideas on how to fix them.

Let draft sit untouched for a few days

Edit into second draft with fresh eyes

Edit and proofread into final version. While doing this, plan out summary, notes at the beginning and end of the fic, and tags; make fic graphic.

Post and promote!

I don’t follow this process to a T all the time, but a lot of my fics do, and even fics that don’t follow the exact process will still have most of the steps in order.

Anyway! For this particular fic, I followed steps 1-3 as is, taking care to make sure the idea followed my giftee’s prompts. But when I got to step 4, I was stuck. I had just written Concrete and Earth, which was also a domestic established-relationship NicoYuki fic, because it turns out that my giftee and I are suckers for the same tropes?? So I struggled to write a fic that was different but had the same tropes, since they were what my giftee asked for.

Then I remembered encountering this article on Twitter, about the different engines that power a story. Not just plot and character, but theme, setting, language, point of view, and so on -- any element of a story can be an engine. So I started thinking about the kind of story engines I put in my fics.

Most of my fics are powered by plot engines, judging from the description of how “plotters” work: outline first, then expand on character interactions from then. The character engine usually gets boosted in the editing stage. But I’ve also worked with situation engines (Breach, On Midnight’s Door), and even a point-of-view engine (a breath of fresh air, a reader-insert fic written in second-person POV).

I had written C&E with the standard plot and character engines (and maybe a little bit of theme engine - shiny new world of Yuki vs. comfy old world of Nico), and I was trying to do the same with this fic. But the engines weren’t working this time around, so soon after using them. I needed something else to power my story -- but what should I use?

It didn’t click until I reread the first sentence of what I had written so far: “Yukihiko nurses a headache as he exits the subway.”

Headache.

Head ache.

That was it.

The next day, I opened my draft and wrote this on top of the document:

The idea was that I needed this fic to be sensory. This was a fic about Yuki being taken care of by Nico, and I needed to make the care felt. I needed to ground that care in palpable, concrete sensations, and anchoring that care in the body felt like a sensible way to go about it. I mean, I had planned a massage scene in the fic, so bodily sensations are important to it.

At the same time, I gave myself the leeway of a first draft. I didn’t intend to keep every single body part mention in the fic, and I did cut out a few that sounded awkward later on. The whole point of the linguistic engine was just to make sure that the fic was written, not for the body part mentions to be the star of the show. I could always fix the fic to sound more coherent later.

The linguistic engine worked. I pushed out around 1.8k of words in a single sitting. And I had fun writing! I didn’t let myself worry too much about how the fic started! As long as I met my linguistic engine goals, it was all good!

After that, I followed my usual process of letting the fic sit for a few days. (I wrote the fic pretty early in December, because I didn’t want to worry about it too much during the holiday rush.) During this resting phase, I worried that the fic might be too focused on the sensory descriptions, when it was still a NicoYuki gift fic. And since it’s a Yuki POV fic, I started thinking: Okay, so this is timeskip established relationship Yuki, what’s he like at this point? So when I returned to it for editing, I wrote this at the top of the document:

I edited with these sentiments in mind. The draft ended up longer after editing, mostly because of additional character POV thoughts and character moments that I added. I also cut out or reworded some of the body part mentions that sounded forced, but to my surprise, a lot of them still made it to the final version.

And that’s it! After working on these two story engines, I didn’t make any more major changes to the fic.

#mono logues #writing

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staytheb · 4 years ago

Text

You Live Here, Too?

Pairing: GOT7′s Mark x OC [Linna] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff, slight angst Word Count: 2,050 Summary: It’s been two years since Linna and Mark last saw one another after their breakup. They meet again when Linna tries to enter her apartment, but it’s really Mark’s in her slightly tipsy state.

Warning: semi-proofread. curse words. lol

hello! this piece is actually a re-work from my other side blog with NPC’s Yanjun titled Nice To Meet You. i re-did it for my own piece of mind and to re-do things from that side blog to fit this current blog. anyways, this is like a sequel to LA Confidential, but you don’t really have to read that one to get this one. also, to each their own on how they do their relationship, this was just fitting for me to end it on a better term than what i had previously... plus my sister has been wanting a part two and this one came through lol but yeah, i’m terrible with titles, too. okay happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

Linna staggered down the hallway of her apartment floor after stepping out of the elevator. She normally didn't get drunk unless she knew that one of her friends would take care of her, but tonight she needed a drink and had one too many. Her friends made sure she arrived into her complex safely and that she was coherent enough to make it the rest of the way up on her own. Feeling the slight headache coming on, Linna clumsily, but hurried down the long hallway until she reached her apartment's door. She pressed the four digit code, but it didn't work. Believing it to be her drunken state, Linna tried again, but the code failed.

"I know the code can't be wrong unless Serena changed it and forgot to tell me." Linna muttered in frustration.

Linna recently moved into the building with her sister after securing a place together a month ago. She just didn't get why she was having issues now as Linna dialed Serena's number and waited for her sister to pickup. Just as Linna heard Serena's voice, the sound cut off soon afterwards. Linna frowned while gazing at her phone and seeing that the battery ran out. She double checked and sighed in agitation that her phone had to die on her at this crucial time. Inhaling slowly and exhaling a moment later, Linna steadily stared at the nine-numbered key pad. She slowly, but surely pressed the right buttons. The pass-code failed once again.

"Seriously? What the fuck, man?"

Linna groaned angrily as she could feel hot tears build up. She bang against the door in hopes that Serena was home. Feeling a bit woozy, Linna leaned her body against the cool surface and rested her head sleepily onto the door. She hoped that her sister would open the door soon. A moment later the door opened and Linna fell in to the arms that didn't belong to Serena. It was her ex-boyfriend, Mark, she hadn't seen in nearly two years after their breakup due to his infidelity. Mark instinctively caught Linna in his arms as his eyes widened upon their unexpected situation. Linna hadn't taken notice of his presence and just stayed like that unaware of her situation.

"Are you okay?" Mark simply asked a second later wondering what he should do.

Unfortunately for Mark the innocent question opened a dam and Linna burst with all of her pent up tears and emotions exploding.

"No, I'm not okay!" She cried before ranting.

"Nothing's fucking okay. Life sucks. The owner of my job is a fuckin' dick and a cheapskate who gives two shit for his employees and just worries about financial aspects. My general manager is a two-face bitch who won't hesitate to throw someone under the bus to save her own ass, but yet she'll take all the credit for something she did not do. All of my colleagues can't do shit without being told to do something, especially the upper management who are all supposed to work with me and not against me."

Linna let out a heavy sigh before finishing out her rant.

"I hate being an assistant general manager that they still treat like a regular worker, but still expect so much things from me even though they micro-manage me. Like I know so much more than they do and still know how to keep things professional, but they see me as nothing more than some lower employee they can do whatever with. Ugh, all these motherfuckin' idiots think it's easy being in my position and that I don't do shit, but yet always depend on me to handle their fuck ups without actually thinking."

Linna comfortably leaned against Mark, but had still not recognized her current situation. Mark just let his ex-girlfriend rant and do her thing not really sure how to go about their current situation.

"Damn, do I hate stupid people." Linna complained while speaking in a tired tone. "I really wanna quit, but I need the job to make money. I wished they would realize that I'm important individual with feelings and have so much potential to offer. I just wished they realized that without me they wouldn't be where they are right now because they still can't fuckin' operate the system on their own without blowing up my phone left and right to answer obvious questions."

Linna positioned her face against Mark's chest and let the tears continued to run.

"Why can't they use their own brains to actually assess the situation or make sure of it themselves? Or to just look it up on their own without bugging me beforehand?"

Mark wrapped his arms around Linna's body and soothingly rubbed her back in comfort. Although they had broken up and that he was the one at fault, but to this day Mark still cared for Linna. Seeing his ex-girlfriend in her current state reminded him that her work place was still shitty and her co-workers were even more annoying than before their breakup. Mark wanted to comfort her with words, but nothing came to mind. He was even more shocked that she lived in the same apartment complex as him now. He moved in about two years ago after the lease of their shared apartment was up shortly after their breakup. Mark honestly believed that he and Linna would never cross paths again.

"Now I can't even enter my apartment because the code doesn't work, my phone died, and you smell like my ex-boyfriend."

Just as Linna inhaled the familiar scent did her mind snapped her back to reality and to her senses of what she had just said. She instantly backed up and out of Mark's embrace to stare at the person before her. A small gasp escaped her as Linna stared at her ex-boyfriend with widened eyes. Seeing Mark standing there sobered Linna quickly, but the headache remained. She wasn't sure if it was due to the alcohol or the fact that her ex-boyfriend lived in the same complex as her and that she may have mistaken his place for her own.

"You live here, too?" Linna asked rhetorically while checking the number plate to make sure she was at the right place.

She wasn't. The first number she was staring at was for the seventh floor. She lived on the fourth floor, but realized that they both lived in the eighth apartment. Linna didn't understand how that could've happened except that she may have clumsily hit the 'seven' button instead of the 'four' button when she got into the elevator. She softly groaned before slowly fixing her eyes onto Mark while wiping away the stray tears from her face.

"Um, I'm sorry, Mark. I'm just gonna go."

"Linna, wait."

"Hmm?"

"Um..."

So many thoughts crossed Mark's mind as to what he wanted to say to his ex-girlfriend, but none of it sounded right to say at that moment. A 'sorry' seemed too pathetic and just worst to bring up even after two years. A 'how are you' would probably backfire like 'are you okay' from earlier. He wanted to tell her that she looked good despite her tear-stained and red face, but that just may come out wrong and out of context. Mark sighed and resorted to just looking at Linna speechless. Linna could see that her ex-boyfriend wanted to say something to her and so waited. She wasn't sure why she stayed, but she did. Neither said anything as they continued to gaze at each other. It wasn't until a third, much younger voice, interrupted them.

"Uncle Mark."

The duo turned their attention to Mark's niece, Leah, that Linna hadn't seen since their break up. The little girl stood beside Mark and pulled on the hem of his shirt.

"I had a nightmare. I woke up and you weren't there." Leah said while sleepily rubbing at her eyes.

Leah turned her attention onto Linna to see who her uncle was talking to. Her face lit up upon seeing Linna and recognizing her.

"Auntie Linna. Hi."

Leah moved closer to hug Linna's lower body. Linna hugged the child back while casting Mark an unsure look. Mark softly cast her a small smile with a shrug.

"I missed you. Where did you? Did Uncle Mark make you cry again? Is that why you haven't visited me?"

Leah's questions brought tears to Linna's face, but for a different reason. Mark frowned upon hearing his niece's questions.

"I didn't make Auntie Linna cry, Leah."

Leah turned to face her uncle with a pointed look.

"But why didn't she come see me like before?"

Mark couldn't answer his niece honestly and so didn't reply. Linna took this opportunity to do it for him.

"Leah, sweetie," Linna called for the little girl's attention while crouching down to eye level with the child, "Your uncle and I just had to take some time apart. That's why I couldn't come see you."

Leah's facial expression turned to one of hopefulness.

"But you can come see me now, right?"

Linna briefly glanced at Mark who's facial expression didn't reveal much, but she could see in his eyes that he wanted to rekindle what they had two years ago. If she had to be honest with herself, then Linna wasn't sure if she had moved on from Mark. Sure he did her wrong, but they didn't really have any sort of closure. They just broke up without talking about anything and now here they were where she ranted to him about her work life. He comforted her in his own way even though he didn't have to. Linna inwardly sighed that being an adult was too complicated and that being child-like was much simpler back then. Her attention was brought back onto Leah.

"Auntie Linna."

"Hmm?"

"You didn't answer me."

"I dunno, Leah. It's late. Auntie has to go home."

Linna avoided answering the question fully and shot the little girl a soft look.

"It's very late, Leah. We all need to be in bed."

"C'mon, Leah. Let's let Auntie Linna go home now." Mark softly urged his niece while walking over to place his hands on his niece's shoulders to lead her back inside the apartment.

Leah wasn't giving up so easily as she took a hold of Linna's hand.

"Can you come over for breakfast?" She asked hopefully.

"Uncle Mark and me are going to make pancakes, but I know auntie like waffles so I want to make waffles with auntie. Please?"

Linna glanced at Leah's hopeful expression before looking over at Mark unsure, but his only response was to shrug his shoulders with an aloof expression and leaving it up to her if she wanted to accept or not.

"Please?" Leah repeated as she tightly held onto Linna's hand.

Linna wasn't sure if it was just Leah's way of uniting them again or if it was just fate bringing her and Mark's paths to cross one another again, but she would let it be to see where it would go. A lot could happen in two years and although it doesn't change the past it could set something else towards the future by living in the present.

"Okay, Leah. I'll join you for breakfast." Linna agreed with a small smile.

"Yay!" Leah cheered as she happily jumped up and down.

Leah let go of Linna's hand as she went to hold her uncle's instead and tried pulling him further inside the apartment.

"C'mon, Uncle Mark. We have to sleep so that Auntie Linna can come over faster."

"Okay, okay." Mark responded with a chuckle before casting Linna a smile with a small wave.

"See you later, Linna."

"See you later, Mark."

Linna returned the same gestured as Leah happily waved at her while bidding her a good night and Mark closing the door shortly afterwards. Linna inhaled deeply before exhaling a moment later. As she made her way back to the elevator a small smile graced her face as she felt relieved of stress and worries for the first time in a long while. When she get back home Linna knew that she was gonna definitely have to vent to Serena about earlier, but that she ran into her ex-boyfriend again and that their current status may change.

#staytheb #got7 scenarios #mark tuan #duan yien

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caffeinatedfantasy · 5 years ago

Note

Mammon is the main love interest not Lucifer, Mammon is the “default” character the game uses and the guy who cares for you 24/7, Lucifer is hardly romanceable with his intimacy taking forever to level up and being so focused on Diavolo, but he is the one who moved the plot forward and if you want a good story you need a character that moves it forward (e.g all stories in Lovestruck)

Alright, so. I’m gonna start this by saying: I’m not coming at this from a “best boy” or “who MC is supposed to end up with” or “who’s canon” or anything like that. There’s nothing wrong with whoever is anyone’s favourite, either.

This purely my opinion of the roles from a development standpoint. And I’d like to note that I believe that the Beta changed some things, though I can’t be certain what. I also don’t know how the Japanese version of the game differs [I can’t find it and don’t know if it differs at all.]

Also. This contains spoilers.

Moving on. The question is: Is Lucifer meant to be the Main Love Interest?

Short answer: It’s… Complicated, since I personally don’t believe the “romance options” have officially been released, but if this had been written with only one romance option, it’d be him.

From a narrative point of view, Lucifer is the most important brother. I don’t think that’s up for debate.

He’s the reason everyone fell, the reason they’re all bound to Diavolo, he’s the one who locked Belphegor away, he’s the one credited for choosing you for the program, and he’s the one “in charge” of you [Mammon is your guardian, but that choice was Lucifer’s, not Mammon or Diavolo’s]. It’s his trust you’re breaking, his respect you’re trying to get.

The narrative focuses on him more than anyone else. And this isn’t technically his “route” yet either. [If they do specific routes, that is. We’re on wait and see for that.]

But, as you say, Mammon is the one with you all the time, so why isn’t he the “Main” Love Interest?

Well, because his narrative role in the story is often more of the clown or, in general, a humorous one. He is actively shown to have a crush on you, and is greedy for affection/attention from you, but his potential romance scenes never quite hit in the way they should if he was meant to be the main.

When Levi goes to attack you, its not Mammon who saves you. It’s not even whoever you call for. It’s specifically Lucifer swooping in because Mammon couldn’t.

When you go to the retreat, it’s Lucifer who swoops in to steal you for a dance when Mammon is [rather obviously] trying to ask you.

He does this again in the hard lessons while in London.

Lucifer is the one to turn Mammon’s idea of matching keychains between you and him into a group thing. [And it’s mentioned later on only for Lucifer.]

There might be more examples, but I’m going off of what I remember. And from a narrative perspective, Mammon’s attempts at romance lean towards silly, light hearted, etc. If this were a traditional love story, he’d be meant to be the awkward loser with a crush. Used as a foil to show you how cool the real love interest is.

From a Marketing Perspective, which is what I was referring to with typical Otome game pushing their “Main”, it’s a little foggier, and it makes me think that Mammon and the other brothers “tested” better than expected.

In nearly all marketing material that include all of the brothers, he is at the fore. He’s either first if it’s a list, or in the center if it’s a spread.

His CGs tend to be featured the most often in the ads, and even the anime intro focused on him more than any other brother, more similar to if he were the protagonist.

[”But Samie!” You say, “he’s the oldest, so of course he is often first/featured!” Well, sure, but that was a narrative choice, as traditional demonology does not have them consistently aged/ranked like the game. Hell, Lucifer isn’t even universally grouped with these specific demons. Only the Laterne of Light and Binsfield’s [the “seven sins model”] classifications even include Lucifer. But I digress…]

Also of note, in otome game marketing, in terms of how the Shall We Date? Games tend to market/focus on their characters, I’ll look at all of NTT Solmare’s Ninja series’s. [Ninja Love, Ninja Shadow, Ninja Assassin], They tend to have a formula for their “mains”, which is noticeable, but changes as they add more options. The Official Leader of the group is rarely the emotional leader of the group, who is almost always the “main” romance option. Which. Diavolo, as a currently unromanceable character who is literally the next in line to the throne, fills that role. [Hanzo, Makoto, Kinshiro].

Lucifer is second in command to Diavolo, though, which is actually notoriously their favourite spot for the “main romance”. [Saizo, Ukyo, Soji.] Mammon falls in third “role”, which in all of these examples, is the more flirty/cool character [Goemon, Asagi, Aoi].

I’ve written more than I intended, so I’m now all kind of rambled out, even tho I could probably go more in depth with the thought process behind the marketing and why I believe that they altered plans when Lucifer wasn’t as popular as expected. [Mammon definitely stole the show in the beta.]

And once again, since this is an otome game, there’s no correct answer to who you’re supposed to romance, so they can only clearly cut off a romance option in a specific route. Which, we haven’t reached their romance routes yet, so I might be proven wrong.

Also, alternatively, my view of Lucifer as the “Main” love interest could be because he was originally planned to be the “main” antagonist instead. It’s hard to say for sure.

I also didn’t proofread this or anything, so. Sorry if it’s only marginally coherent.

EDIT: I forgot to address the Lovestruck comment of this. Voltage tends to have different practices than the Shall we Date? Series. Both with their Lovestruck, the Love 365, and their Party stories. Ayakashi would be the closest [of theirs] in design, but I could write a whole thing on how those vary.

#standard practice #leader #obey me!#shall we date obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #shall we date #samie rambles #personal analysis #Anonymous #i forgot to address the lovestruck comment of this #but the short version of that is that it's usually the MC that moves the plot forward #or the character [whose role diavolo takes]#voltage also has a slightly different too

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worldofandromeda · 5 years ago

Text

Headcanon: Dating Minho.

A/N: Who do you guys want to see next? I’m thinking I will do Hyunjin, who do you want? (I swear if I fuck up the your/you’re think again, I’m gonna sue my school for making me more idiotic than i was to begin with).

Word Count: 1673

Not proofread or edited.

CRUSHING ON YOU

Accidentally becomes mean while trying not to let you know about his crush

Always finds something to compliment you on

Will try to flirt sometimes, maybe but it probably won’t go very well

Would talk to his crush for hours, about everything

He wouldn’t care what they were talking about as long as he was with them

Really fucking nervous around you

Blushing, stuttering, playing with his hair, biting his nails, tapping his fingers, etc.

Definitely stalking your social media accounts

Accidentally likes one of your pictures that you posted like four years before hand

HIS PHONE SAID YEET AND HIS THROAT SAID SCREECH

As well as nervous, definitely shy, not as talkative as he usually is

CONFESSION

As I said earlier, Minho was really shy around his crush

So, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to confess to them properly, like face to face

But, he also thought asking you out over text was just a shitty thing to do

So, he opted to write you a letter, not necessarily a love letter but he was confessing, so, maybe a bit of a love letter, lol.

He would leave it on your pillow

He probably nearly tripped when walking out of your room because he was so nervous

Was tempted to go through your closet, he didn’t

But he did eat your snacks

Anyway, so, this note would say…

Dearest Y/N, I’m sorry that I’m not confessing to you in a manly way but I know I will never be brave enough to tell you how I feel to your face, so, this is happening.

I’ve liked you for a while now, at least a year. You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny, ambitious, nurturing, calm but also crazy. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.

I don’t know why I started feeling this way about you but I did and I’m still feeling this way and I hope you feel the same, it’s okay if you don’t but…

Anyway, all there is to it, is that I like you, I want to be your boyfriend, to take you on dates and to eat food with you at 4am while playing Mario kart. I want to have dance battles with you and for Stays to make memes out of our faces together but most importantly I want to be able to love you with all my heart and I will try my hardest to do that if you accept.

Will you go on a date with me and hopefully be my girlfriend, pretty, pretty please?

Love, Greek God Minho.

You had laughed after reading it, smiling widely before getting off your bed falling YEETING YOURSELF stumbling down the stairs and walking the short route to the dorms.

You slammed open the door, walking into the living room to see Minho with Jeongin and Jisung.

They knew something was up from the unreadable expression on your face and so, they got up quickly leaving you and Minho alone together.

You stalked towards Minho, making him quickly get up, ready to run away from you, terrified of your reaction.

You quickly grabbed him, pushing him down onto the couch as you positioned yourself on his hips, making sure he couldn’t move.

Minho was flustered

He was trying to say something, anything but he just kept blubbering

His nervousness making it extremely hard for him to create a coherent sentence

“Minho, why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked up at you and shrugged slightly, an anxious expression on his face as he bit his lip.You pulled his lip from his teeth, leaving him with his mouth open as he stared up at you in aw

.You couldn’t keep up your ‘sexy, hot and cool’ façade anymore

You squealed slightly and launched yourself down onto Minho

Your arms wrapping around him as best as they could as you stuffed your face into his neck

“Um, are you okay?”

Minho felt the warmness of his blush creeping up his neck and he cringed at the feeling

You always made him so nervous

You nodded, laughing slightly as you pulled back but stayed laying on top of him

“Sure, I’ll go out with you, Minho.”

Now, it was his turn to let out a squeal as he wrapped his arms around your back, squeezing you

Just when he was about to say something, Jisung yelled which caused you to jump in fear

And fall off of Minho and hit your head and die

“HEY, NO SEX IN THE DORMS!”

“DAMMIT JISUNG, WE WERE BEING CUTE! NOT FUCKING!”

FIRST DATE

For your first date, you and Minho went paintballing

It fucking hurt

You were left with bruises all over you after

And they weren’t good bruises

You know what I’m saying 😉

Anyway, so, you had just started the round

You were cautious, making sure to look everywhere But, then, when you turned around, Minho was standing in front of you

He shot you and ran away

You ran right after him, shooting him in the head

AND WRECKING HIS BEAUTIFUL HAIR I WOULD KILL A BITCH

Anyway, after that it wasn’t team against team anymore

It was just you and Minho against each other

It was like a game of tag but instead of tagging the other person, you got to shoot them

With a motherfucking paintball gun

DAVID DOBRIK WOULD BE PROUD

And so afterward

When he saw your bruises

He frowned, apologising but you just laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone

“It’s okay, your head is going to be hurting way worse later.”

“Yeah! Isn’t it against the rules to shoot someone in the head?”

“I don’t know. Probably.”

FIRST KISS

Your family had kicked you out for unknown reasons and you went to the only person you had left

Minho

You two had become official two weeks beforehand

And you hadn’t kissed yet

But kissing was the last thing on Minho’s mind when he opened the door

To you with tear stained cheeks, a suitcase, drenched clothes and ruined makeup.

He quickly pulled you inside and brought you to the couch, telling you to wait there

He ran upstairs, grabbing a towel and some of his clothes plus his bag of makeup wipes

He does wear makeup after all, of course he has some makeup wipes

Anyway, so, he quickly sprints back down to you

Pulling the clothes off of you as you sat there

Not moving

You weren’t even bothered when Minho pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your bra

Or when he tugged down your pants

“Here,”He held out a pair of sweatpants and a plain white tee

You didn’t move, so he sighed

He threw his shirt over your head

And you shivered as his hands ran up your back under the shirt

Unclipping your bra

Which made you gasp and turn around to look at him

“Your clothes are wet, including your bra and underwear, they need to be taken off or you’ll get sick.”

He expected you to finish getting yourself dressed seeing as he had gotten your attention

But he was proven wrong when you turned back to look at what you had been previously

So, he pushed his hands back under the shirt, tugging the straps of your bra down

Until your bra fell into your lap

Your underwear was a bit different

He knew it would be really difficult, so, he resorted to cutting the side of it with a pair of scissors

Covering his eyes, the minute part of you was exposed

He brought the sweatpants up your legs

And reached into the sweatpants near your hip, tugging on a piece of fabric which pulled your underwear from the pants

He put your ruined underwear into the garbage and when he came back, you hadn’t moved

He sat in front of you on the couch

He called out your name multiple times

But he never got a reply

He was getting fed up with you daydreaming

Or maybe you were just ignoring him

Either way, Minho was done with it

And to catch your attention, he grabbed your shoulders and brought his lips to yours

The kiss was intense and caught you off guard but you sunk into it the minute Minho’s hand found its way into your hair

Once you both pulled back, you stared at each other for a few seconds before you started sobbing

Pushing your face into his chest as your arms wrapped around his torso

His arms sat around your waist as you cried, Minho smiled slightly

At least you had come to him and he knew you were safe

“YOU GUYS BETTER NOT BE FUCKING!”

“DAMMIT JISUNG!”

FIRST “I LOVE YOU.”

“Why would I cheat on you?”

Your voice got louder every time you yelled at Minho.

“Maybe because you were all over that fucking guy!”

“Wrong! He was all over me and I rejected him multiple times.”

“Sure, you did, L/N.”

You stopped, you didn’t use that surname anymore

It hurt you to hear it after your family had kicked you out onto the streets with no explanation as to why

You growled to yourself before replying

“I didn’t cheat on you and I wasn’t planning on it either.”

You turned, starting to walk away when he yelled

“Why should I believe you?”

“Why should you believe me? WHY SHOULD YOU BELIEVE ME? MAYBE BECAUSE I HAVE PUT MYSELF THROUGH SO MUCH SHIT FOR YOU! MAYBE BECAUSE I’M NOT A STUPID WHORE LIKE YOUR EX GIRLFRIEND! MAYBE, JUST MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T THINK I CHEATED ON YOU BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!”

Minho’s face fell as you finished ranting

“What?”

“I love you and all you’re doing is hurting me.”

Your voice cracked at the end and you gave up, starting to sink to the floor so you could cry

But before you could get there, Minho rushed towards you, grabbing you harshly and pulling you tight against his chest

“I’m sorry, my beautiful girl, I’m sorry.”

“ARE Y’ALL FUCKING?”

Both of you yelled simultaneously, “SHUT UP, SQUIRREL!”

#minho #lee minho #stray kids imagine #stray kids headcanon #minho x reader #lee minho imagine #lee minho headcanon #lee minho x reader #froggie posts

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hegglespeggles · 4 years ago

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How to write an essay you could not care less about in 10 steps

Hello. I have an essay to write.

I am also, (unfortunately) the kind of lazy, apathetic burnout who will only do my FUCKING work if I get really worked up. Usually that ends up meaning all of my papers are spite-fuelled tirades but my profs seem to like them so fine. I hope you find this particular raging tirade useful.

Today, I would like to educate the 4 of you that will actually see this on a fine art I have perfected over the years. Writing a paper, about which, you do not give a single, solitary, crumb of a fuck about. This is (you may have guessed) and excellent way for me to procrastinate doing a paper that *I* do not give a single solitary crumb of a fuck about. For best results, I recommend doing this NIGHT-BEFORE-PANIC like, a week in advance so you can fix all the NONSENSE that your more reasonable brain will undoubtedly find. But if it’s the night before and you are shit outta luck, this will get ‘er done. And with practice, you can even pull good grades outta these bitches.

Dissociating? I gotchu. Woke up the day of the deadline to feel like absolute utter garbage? Search no more friends.

FAILING GRADES ARE BETTER THAN ZEROS JUST FUCKIN DOOOOOO ITTTT

1. Go get the prompt.

I fucking mean it. Even if you are like 1000% sure you know what the prompt is asking, go to the FUCKING assignment, and copy that shit into your word document. Got the assignment on paper? TYPE THAT SHIT UP MOTHERFUCKER.

(Do you see what I fucking have to deal with)

Boom?

BOOM.

Congratulations, you now have a document, and whats more, there are WORDS in it!! You aren’t starting from scratch anymore kiddo. Fringe benefit, you always know EXACTLY what the assignment wants because its fucking Staring You Down. Not saying you have to do exactly as it says, mama didn’t raise no BITCH and I aint scared of fuckin CALLING PROFS OUT but if you wanna break the rules you gotta know what they are first

(Disclaimer: I have also been kicked out of class on numerous occasions for fighting with the prof and had full classes where the lecture WAS me arguing so maybe take my opinions of conformity with a grain of salt.)

2. Math THE FIRST

I know, this is an essay and not a fucking calculus test. But some of this shit is USEFUL OKAY

Take the paper in question. How long does it have to be? Mine is 5 pages. A page is generally accepted to be 250 words (double spaced because we FUCKING LOVE OURSELVES) so 5 x 250 = 1250 wds. That’s the goal. That’s the pinnacle. That’s your new holy grail.

Time to split this bitch up

3. Yarrrrrr, CONTENT

And finally, we get to the part that is the reason why you are being an absolute bitch baby about this essay (maybe. I might be projecting. Your life is your life and im sure youre doing your best.) I Hate this part, but now with our magic number we don’t need to pull 5 pages out of the ether.

This part really requires you to know your vibe. Is this something that you have a lot of little opinions (read: evidence) about or like, only 2 or 3 big bois? Look deep into your soul and figure out which is the easiest for you to shit out, a rant or a list. a great way to do this is to WRITE ANYTHING YOU GOT OUT

Here you can see I’ve put all of the thoughts I have about the question into a list, slapped some standard “opening” and “closing” shit around it so I can FUCKING FIND IT AGAIN and given it a good hard look. Whats the common thread in all of my opinions? That the prompt is fucking stupid and makes no sense is asking 2 different questions. Congratulations: you found your thesis. This essay, like many of my essays, bears the thesis “this is a weird question to be asking” (which falls under my broader category of “bitches aint shit” essays.)

Congratulations you have the bare bones of your skeleton.

4. MATH THE SECOND

The magic number returns. All hail our glorious leader. 1250 right?

So heres how I break this down. Break off a small chunk at the beginning. For this essay im gonna split off the 250. Split that baby in half. Congratulations, now you have a word count on your opening and closing. Personally, I know I like a lil extra space at the end to get all ranty, so Imma split this puppy up 100 for my opening and 150 for the closing. WARNING: You will think that you will be able to write enough in your opening and closing to take up lots of space. You will feel the urge to give them both the same amount of words that you give your points. This is misguided and foolish. Not only will you 1) not be able to do it but 2) even if you did, that’s like getting a sandwich which is all bread. No one wants that. Don’t be that dude. Fight the urge.

RIGHT SO. We’re still left on the other 1000 words.

If you have an idea that like, is bigger than the others, go ahead and give that puppy more of the word count than the others, fractions are your friend here and you wanna think about how much of your final product each of these babies will be. If you, like me, are an utter buffoon with no clue what youre doing, open your calculator up. Divide the remaining word count by the number of points you have. Congratulations. Youre doing the essaying.

If this is enough to get you started, GREAT! See you at step seven. BEFORE YOU GO I would like to give you this tip

5. CITE YOUR INFORMATION AS YOU ADD IT IN.

It doesn’t need to be a full citation, just literally a footnote with something that will help you remember where its from and for the love of god WHAT PAGE IT IS ON. The you of 3 hours from now will thank you.

6. Filling in the skeleton

I don’t know about you, but I cant exactly riff off of a single sentence. Like, I know what the VIBE of my point is, but like, I cant pull it out of a hat. The name of the game here is whittling down your arguments into thinner and thinner chunks that are easier and easier to bullshit. This is how you avoid that “burning building found in flames during Brooklyn fire” bullshit that memes. You don’t wanna meme. You wanna pass. So, figure out what the things you are gonna say and in each bit, keep track of how many words you are gonna write. EITHER

a) You put how many words you think you can write on any point beside the point as you go and just keep developing points and shuffling word counts around until it matches the total for that section

b) You evenly breakup the word count between all the points and keep breaking them down until you look at a subject and a word count and go “yeah that’s doable. I can do that.”

I prefer the second so LEGGO.

Ta-Da!

7. Write ‘er up

Ahhh glad to see we’re all back together again. Try-hards who can ACTUALLY bullshit papers, glad to see you’ve rejoined us! This is the part where you take all that shit you’ve broken up into nice little chunks and you turn it into something worth reading. You can do it. I believe in you. Try and keep your citations in place.

I like to do this as a question answer thingy, like an exam, so halfway through writing mine is gonna look like this

The handy part about the numbers is that it gives you a frame of reference for how your bullshit is going. Realized you had a lot more to say here than you thought? Dope! Less bullshit somewhere else, take it out of a weaker point. This point didn’t give as much as you thought it would? Split the difference elsewhere! This way you have checkpoints and you can see how your essay is going

And then you can go ahead and delete your skeleton work. Its time. Its served you well. For extra drama, whisper menacing nothings to it as you send it into the darkness. Personal favourites include “no one will mourn you,” “your fate belongs to me,” and “so this is what you have come to”

8. Citations

Theres like a million ways out there to find out how to do your citations and its gonna depend on what kind of a paper you are writing. I use Chicago most of the time, including here. My advice? Use a site like, bib.me or something to do your bibliography, and then plaster that in the bottom of your document. Use that as the building blocks to do your footnotes. Let Purdue Owl be your guide. Purdue Owl Style Guide Is A Mighty Friend Indeed.

Also your welcome for that, “putting the page numbers in as you put the info in” shit. That took me alarmingly long to figure out. It’s a wonder theyre giving me a degree.

9. Proofread that shit, ya bougie bitch.

If you wanna be time effective, getting a friend to proofread while you do your citations is a great way to go. If you have a few days, put your paper away and come back to it. If you are out of friends and time then https://www.paperrater.com/ is your last hope.

10. Slap a title page on that shit and GET IT SUBMITTED

No joke, I have been using the same template for a coverpage all through highschool and my undergrad. There is only one title page and every time I write an essay I take the title page from the last paper I wrote. There is no beginning. Only title page. Title? Topic of paper: point of paper. For example, If I had to title this screed I’d call it Essay Writing: An exploration of mediocrity. slap the date and your name and the course and instructor on there and BAM. YA DONE.

Anyway submit that shit an go to bed youre done goodnight

EPILOGUE

I’ve gotten this essay back, and when I wrote it, I was barely a human being. Barely capable of human speech let alone a coherent argument. I would forget the end of the sentence by the time I typed out the beginning. But I still for a 70%! is it the best mark I’ve ever gotten? no! but it is a hell of a lot better than the 0% I would have gotten if i hadnt done this. I get it. And i hope this helps.

#mine #my stuff #studyblr #essaywriting #musicblr #game of thrones #study motivation #study #academic

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missjanjie · 5 years ago

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Branjie Fic | Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer (7/?)

Title: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer Summary: Brooke Lynn is a graduate student anxiously embracing her new position as her favorite dance professors’ new TA. Vanessa is a sophomore dance major who just might make her way into being more than the teacher(assistant)’s pet. (lesbian/university AU) Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter)/~18.9k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Vanessa ‘Vanjie’ Mateo/Brooke Lynn Hytes) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch.5 | Ch. 6

After going back and forth about it over the weekend, Brooke Lynn decided she would attempt to go to class on Monday. She went through all the steps; shower, dress, eat quickly, she had made it all the way to the visual arts building before she panicked. The second she caught sight of Vanessa, all resolve went out the window and she ducked into the first room available.

The room she ended up in turned out to be the auditorium. There were various people milling about, but most occupants were on the stage, rehearsing for the winter musical – RENT. No one particularly minded, or even noticed, Brooke’s presence, allowing her to quietly find a spot to sit and watch. She had never been much of a musical theatre person, but she appreciated the soundtrack and found herself aimlessly humming along to the song they were performing.

“Brooke Lynn? Is that you?” a girl had spotted her from the front of the auditorium and had gotten all the way to the seat next to her without being noticed. “What brings you over here?”

Brooke looked over and winced. The girl’s name was Donna, a senior who she’d had a fling with the year prior, who had pushed for them to start dating and was promptly ghosted. Frankly, Brooke was surprised Donna seemed happy to see her. “Oh, I just…didn’t feel like making it to class today. I’m Katya’s TA now, she’ll understand,” she was talking at her more than to her, the last thing she needed was Donna trying to weasel her way back into the picture too.

“So, the rumors are true? You hooked up with one of her students?” Donna sat cross-legged and sideways on the chair and looked at her curiously. “Is that why you’re here? Did things go bad?”

Abruptly, Brooke got up and grabbed her bag. “I don’t need this right now,” she muttered and briskly walked out and went right back to her apartment. She should have just stayed in bed, she thought.

But on her way back, she was stopped by yet another girl she recognized. This time it was Vanessa’s roommate, whose name was embarrassingly lost on her in that moment. She stopped her on the sidewalk and pulled her to the side. “Listen, it’s really none of my business, but you need to consider forgiving Vanessa. Not for her sake, for mine. She doesn’t shut up about you, even in her sleep,” and the roommate even sounded exhausted.

“You’re right, it is none of your business. Get some earplugs,” Brooke huffed and walked past her, praying she could finally get back to her apartment in peace, but even her own subconscious kept playing showtunes on repeat.

‘Take your brown eyes, your pretty smile, your silhouette…no day but today…’

----------

“She wasn’t in class today. What if she skipped town?” Vanessa was pacing back and forth in her dorm while a beleaguered A’keria sat on her bed, subjected to another round of her friend going on about Brooke Lynn.

“You think she skipped town cause she’s mad at you?” A’keria stared at her incredulously. “Are you even listening to yourself right now? She probably just stayed at home or whatever,” she pointed out, looking up at the sound of a knock at the door. “Please, lord, let that be Brooke Lynn,” she muttered putting her hands together as if in prayer.It was not, it was Blair. “Hey guys,” she turned to Vanessa, “Okay, latest Brooke Lynn update is that my friend, Donna, saw her in the auditorium earlier and she said that she seemed sad and frustrated,” she recalled.

“Fuck, what do I do about this?” Vanessa groaned, plopping herself down on the floor. “What if she meant it? What if she does love me, but I ruined it by being an asshole?” she rests her head against the wall. “I need to do something, just being sorry isn’t gonna cut it anymore.”

“Oh! Big romantic gesture! I love these, I bet we could think of something,” Blair bounced on her heels cheerfully. “Well…you don’t sing or play piano, so that eliminates like, half of my ideas…but we’ll still think of something!” she assured. “What about a flash mob?”

Vanessa shook her head. “That’s too over the top, Brooke Lynn wouldn’t go for something that extra,” she explained. “I wanna do something, but she’s not gonna be happy if it’s somewhere crowded. She hates people seeing her emotions,” she sunk down to sit on the floor and groaned. “Fuck, y’all, I’ve never fucked up like this before.”

“Personally, I think both of you are way too worked up about this. Just jump the redheaded bitch and call it a day,” A’keria remarked.

“You know Brooke would be all ‘beating her up won’t solve anything’,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, though that might not stop her at this point. As mad at herself as she was, she felt like Lily needed to take some of the blame, it would make her feel better, that was for sure.

But then she was pulled from her train of thought when an alarm went off on her phone. “I gotta go to class, but we ain’t done brainstorming,” she said as she got up, the three of them leaving the dorm and going their separate ways.

Vanessa knew things were bad when she was actually relieved to be in class, and this one was actually sort of fun. It was the one she sat next to Yvie in, and they had come to appreciate each other’s company and chat candidly when they could. “Can I ask you something?” she asked when her classmate sat down.

“Go for it,” Yvie propped her elbow up on the desk and rest her chin on the palm of her hand.

“Let’s say you did something that really pissed off someone you care about and they don’t want to talk to you. What sort of, like…big gesture would you do to let them know how sorry you are?” One thing Vanessa was able to count on Yvie for was her honesty. While her friends did more to try to spare her feelings, sometimes it was necessary to have an outside perspective.

Yvie tilted her head and strummed her fingers against the desk. “Well, if just talking is out of the question, you still have to work on their terms. Maybe ask someone close to them and see what they suggest. Just don’t do something stupid and extra, like a flash mob,” she told her.

Vanessa pursed her lips as she listened, quickly concluding that Yvie was right. She didn’t know too many people in Brooke Lynn’s life, having gathered that most of her family remained in Canada. But she knew there was one person that would be able to help her.

----------

“I have been waiting for this moment for so long,” Katya grinned, sitting upright in her office chair and leaning forward.

“I feel like that’s a conversation for another day,” Vanessa remarked. “Anyway, what do I do? It’s been like, three days and I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.”

Katya was still giddy but took on a more pensive expression. She was silent for a few moments, then suddenly brightened right back up. “The student radio show!” she looked around until she found the flyer about it. “Brooke did it during her undergrad, so she’s still sentimental about it. She listens to it every week, Tuesday evenings. Go ask them to play a song and give them a message to read. Like that episode of Friends except it works because you’re not a heterosexual douchebag.”

Vanessa nodded, taking the flyer. “I knew you’d come through,” she beamed. “Thanks!” she waved and left. She went straight back to her dorm and opened her laptop and notebook. She needed the perfect song, and the perfect note to go with it. With a google search of ‘best love songs to apologize with’ open and a clean page of paper ready to go, she cracked her knuckles and got to work.

By one in the morning Vanessa had moved on to a second notebook and had finally believed she had captured her feelings into the best of her abilities. And the song? Well, she couldn’t have picked a better one. The lyrics fit so well; it was as if it was written for her to play for Brooke Lynn. She only hoped she would feel the same way.

Early the next morning, Vanessa made her way into the building where the radio show was done. It was foggy and dark, foreshadowing rain, and she only hoped that didn’t reflect the outcome of her plan. While she found the building easily, she did get a little lost finding the actual recording room. After about ten minutes of confusion and wandering, she found just where she needed to be.

As luck would have it, the room was occupied with students that worked on the show, and luckier still, one of the students was Yvie, so Vanessa ran right towards her. “Yvie, I took your advice and now I need your help again to follow through,” she went over and sat at the other side of the desk. “I talked to someone close to the person and—”

“You can just say Brooke Lynn, you know,” Yvie cut her off, “Everyone’s like, aware that something’s happening. It’s an open secret, like Rock Hudson.”

“Who that?”

Vanessa rifled through her bag until she pulled out a sheet of paper. There were several lines that had been crossed out and rewritten, but the bottom half of the page contained a coherent note. “I need you to read this note and play that song tomorrow during your show. Don’t proofread it or nothing, she’s gotta know this came from me,” she was fidgeting with her hands and shifting around in her seat. This could be her only chance at winning Brooke Lynn over.

“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you guys. I have no idea why, I just feel like this needs to work out,” Yvie remarked offhandedly.

“Thanks, I think.”

----------

Tuesdays were relatively decent days for Brooke Lynn. She got to be a student instead of a teacher in class and was home in time to cook herself an actual meal for dinner, this time without nearly killing herself or setting anything on fire. It was a nice way to distract herself from her stresses and woes. Especially since, on top of everything else, it had been drearily raining from the moment she woke up.

At this point, she had moved on from her initial fury towards Vanessa, but she was still angry, still hurt. But above anything else she was embarrassed. She was embarrassed that she had let herself fall so easily, that she had gotten sucked in by – quoting the song that had been stuck in her head – brown eyes, a pretty smile, and silhouette. Incidentally, she doubted she would ever be able to listen to the RENT soundtrack again.

But still, she knew better. She didn’t even date and all of the sudden she was vulnerable and lovesick towards someone that would flirt with a girl dressed like a CW character just to make her jealous. Suffice it to say, the past couple months have been a rollercoaster.

“Time for the one consistent staple in my life,” Brooke murmured to herself, sitting down with her dinner at the table and her phone hooked up to a Bluetooth speaker. She checked the time – two minutes to six – the radio show was about to start.

The introduction went as it usually did, and Brooke Lynn was tuning in and out as she ate. That was until the first song ended and the announcer said something that captured her attention.

“This next song was requested by my fellow dance major, Vanessa Mateo, aka Vanjie,” Brooke’s heart skipped a beat and her fork dropped on to her plate. She quickly made the volume louder and listened intently.

“Vanjie wrote a note that she asked me to read: ‘I won’t say your name ‘cause I know you get paranoid when it comes to you and me. But I need you to know how fucking sorry I am that I hurt you. It was stupid and not worth making you that upset. And I know sometimes ‘sorry’ isn’t enough, but it’d mean a lot if you gave me one more chance. If you will, you know where to find me’,” Yvie read. “Aww, that was sweet, wasn’t it? And with that, from Vanjie to ‘you know who you are’, this is Songbird by Fleetwood Mac.”

If Brooke hadn’t already been close to tears from Vanessa’s note, the song would have done the trick. Within the first few lines the dam broke and tears streamed down her cheeks. By the time the chorus hit, she was reduced to sobs.

“And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before.”

When the song ended, there was no doubt in Brooke’s mind as to what she had to do. She went to the bathroom to wash her face and get herself together. And with that, her coat and shoes were on and she was out the door.

Vanessa had said in her note that Brooke would know where to find her, and apparently that had rung true, because the next thing she knew, she was running into the dance studio with a certainty that must have come from somewhere other than her conscious brain. It didn’t matter that she was soaked and shivering, she knew that this was where she needed to be.

The Vanessa that stood in the dance studio was one that Brooke had never seen before. She looked meek, hesitant, curling into herself. This was Vanessa without the confidence and attitude she brandished like weapons. She looked terrified, and her red, watery eyes made it clear that she had been crying too. Her bottom lip quivered as she looked up at her. “You showed up.”

Brooke wordlessly ran across the room to Vanessa, grabbing her head and kissing her fiercely. When she pulled away, she picked her up and hugged her tight and damn it, tears were slipping out again. “How dare you turn me into a hopeless romantic?” she laughed through the tears before eventually setting her down. “You have me wrapped around your pretty little finger, it’s just not fair.”

Vanessa was tearing up again too, which admittedly made Brooke feel a little better about her own inability to keep her feelings under control. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater and smiled up at her. “I won’t take that for granted no more. No more foolishness neither. So, we’re giving us another shot?” she asked because, despite everything that’d just happened, she needed the verbal confirmation.

“Yes. We may not be able to pick up right where we left off, but I can’t picture myself with anyone but you,” Brooke confessed. They would have to try a little harder, having undone some of the trust they’d built. But she had faith in Vanessa, and faith in their relationship. She took a half step back to take off her coat. “Can we sit? That took a lot out of me,” she admitted and sat with her back against the wall.

Vanessa sat in Brooke’s lap, a space she fit perfectly in. She combed her fingers through her damp, blonde hair and kissed her forehead. “Y’know, you’ve changed me too. Got me being responsible, taking care of myself. I used to think that shit was boring, but it feels healthy and good.”

Brooke couldn’t help but giggle at that. “I’m glad I coerced you into self-care,” she teased. She rubbed her hand up and down Vanessa’s back and kissed lightly along her jaw. “You know what we haven’t done yet? Gone on an actual date. Let’s do something fun this weekend, just you and me, maybe venture outside the city…”

“Shit, if I didn’t think we’d get caught, I’d show you how good of an idea I think that is,” Vanessa winked playfully as she leaned up and kissed her.

Brooke laughed and kissed back languidly. “Baby, I don’t have the energy for that right now anyway. What I’m gonna do is bring you back to my apartment, make you try what I made for dinner, then we’re gonna watch some shitty movies until we fall asleep.”

Vanessa smiled and let Brooke pick her up. As they went outside, they realized the rain had cleared and left them with a calm night – or as calm as a night in New York City could be. “It’s a sign,” she joked.

But sometimes the universe was funny like that, whether it was a change in the weather or hearing the right song, sometimes life brings you exactly where you need to be. And hopefully, it put Brooke Lynn and Vanessa on the path to rebuilding their relationship.

#branjie #branjie fic #branjie fanfic #branjie fanfiction #rpdr rpf

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smolfangirl · 7 years ago

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Say my name and everything just stops

A sound so sweet, of you and me - 11 - First name

Oookay, here we are. It’s been such a stressful day (don’t start world wars, people!) and as a result, I can’t focus on anything so I can’t promise this chapter will be as closely proofread as the others... anyways, this contains guarenteed more fluff than this week’s episodes ^^

Story: In a world where you only know who your soulmate is by calling them their first name, Matteo soon finds that the smallest words can be the hardest to say.

Word count: 3.3k

Ever since his couch had found it’s place in Matteo’s room, he loved it. But he never loved it quite as much as now, with Luna laying on top of him like a big kitten – a kitten that smiled into his chest and curled up closer instead of purring.

“You know, you make a really good pillow”, she mumbled as he gently let his hand wander over her back. “Maybe I should take you home.”

He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Maybe I’d let you.”

Luna tilted her head, her eyes finding his, full of happiness and joy and maybe, just maybe, she’d start purring for real any second.

Leaning forward, he stole a kiss from her nose.

She flinched. As he moved, her hands suddenly laid on his stomach, supporting her and by the look on her face, his abs didn’t go unnoticed. (The extra exercises definitely paid off.)

“If I took you home, you’d have to meet my parents. For real.”

Matteo’s hand kept wandering over her skin. She was already so close – he was literally covered by her – yet he wanted, needed, to feel more. Like a junkie always searching for a bigger hit.

“I know”, he replied.

“You seemed pretty nervous about it the other day”, she teased. “And my parents are actually nice, they won’t eat you or something. The only Italian they eat is pizza. Sometimes pasta, but not on weekends.”

Matteo hummed in agreement, a joke on his lips but then she shifted, her hips jolting against his and all his thoughts fell silent while his stomach lit up in flames.

Luna smiled at him. Her hand stroke his abs, moving along to the sides and it left trails of fire behind. He loved everything about this. Her smile. Them being wrapped up in each other, how she had to stretch to kiss him. How she made him happy, happy, happy.

“You realize that I’m falling in love with you, my little moon, right?”

Maybe it was selfish of him.

Luna deserved her name to be said, she deserved it coming out of his mouth. She deserved everything he could give her and so much more than that.

Yet, it never came across his lips.

Sometimes he imagined saying it. When they skated, and he felt like floating in the air. When she snuggled him, her curls tickling the skin on his arms and the touch of her body warming the coldest bits of his soul. The word would form in his throat every time, only to get exchanged for a nickname in the end.

Again, and again, and again.

Sometimes he caught her wrinkling her forehead now. Other times she only smiled like no cloud ever appeared on her very own, very blue sky. It bugged him, the feeling he disappointed her, but at the same time he just didn’t want this irrevocable proof, this shattered dream and the hauling demons lingering in the broken pieces of it.

So, he never said it.

It must have been selfish for sure. Luna gave and gave, she was like his personal Santa Clause all year long, and slowly he reached a point where he unpacked her gifts with the itching sensation that he got much more than he earned, deserved.

But she did it with a smile – he loved that smile, so much – so he spilled out how happy he felt around her and how he admired her until she replied by smiling even brighter.

In these moments, Luna’s aura burned the slightest shade of darkness in the world, burned the shadows until he only saw light.

In these moments, he slowly realized it would be okay.

He’d taken her out for ice creams. Just like that, for no other reason than to surprise her. Or that’s what he told her.

She loved those casual dates. Whether in school or at the rink, their friends lurked by closely, always in plain sight or hearing distance. So, getting Matteo all for herself was something special, like a weekend trip, and Luna enjoyed it just as much.

“Does it really bother you?”, he inquired in the middle of her second strawberry scoop.

A tiny pink dot landed on his cheek as she spoon-fed him, and when she laughed, he frowned.

Luna held in. “What does?”

“That I haven’t said your name yet.”

Her spoon clinked against the cup, with the ice cream falling right back into it. She had expected him to avoid this topic the same way he tip-toed around Gastón’s (inevitable) puns. Even now, with his question hanging in the air, she expected him to look away or fidget with the menu or stare on the menu – any sign of impatient anxiety, really.

She was wrong.

Instead of avoiding any eye contact, his eyes took her in, scanned her, studied her detail by detail. No anxiety, no fear, at least not for her to see.

“Look”, she rested her hand on top of his. “I don’t understand it. But it’s okay, it’s your decision and I will accept whatever you want to do. I’ll be fine either way.”

(Maybe she was wrong about something else too. Maybe he cared more about soulmates than she believed.)

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

Finally, Matteo smiled too. His gaze wandered to their hands while he played with her fingers. “Oh, just one more thing”, Luna added after she finished her ice cream.

“What?”

“Can I have one more scoop? Please? Just one!”

Matteo shook his head only to break out in laughter. “You’re insatiable.”

“Matteo, can I borrow your notes from physics class?”

“Why? You sat right next to me”, Matteo answered while he waited for Gastón to finally change from his PE clothes into his school uniform.

“I wasn’t paying much attention, besides that woman writes too fast to keep track. And you were writing the entire time, I thought I could just ask you.”

How incredibly unfortunate. “I wasn’t taking notes.”

Gastón completely did not approve of this. Matteo knew that before his best friend paused mid-changing his shirt to send him a distasteful click of his tongue.

“You can’t judge me, you said yourself you weren’t listening”, Matteo defended himself. “And hurry up, I don’t want to be late for lunch again only because of your slow ass.”

“Nina likes my slow ass.”

He rolled his eyes. One more minute and he’d take care of Gastón’s stupid tie himself. This laid-back fumbling made him nervous. “Yeah, because she’s your soulmate.”

“You’re my soulmate too.”

“Touché. Still, hurry up.”

Finally, Gastón grabbed his bag and walked towards the door. “I’m going to ask Ramiro for his notes. Dude copies faster than a printer. But what were you writing?”

They stepped outside into the air that felt even warmer compared to the air condition in the locker rooms. A few students relaxed on the grass, the younger ones chased each other around. Above them all, right in the middle of the sky, Matteo found the moon, lost in between the bright blue of the day. He smiled.

“I started writing a new song.”

“Uh, what’s it called? Ode to the moon? Moonstruck?”

“I can’t tell you often enough, you aren’t even half as funny as you think you are.”

Gastón crossed his arms in front of his chest, huffing, “Duh, I’m punny.”

“Not even that.”

It took Luna a good moment to pin-point the difference in Matteo’s room.

“You changed the sheets.” Dark blue and cotton replaced the satin. Very soft cotton, she found out when she let her hand wander over the fabric.

“Well, drunk you didn’t like them, so yes, I changed them.”

Drunk you. To her own surprise, she remembered that evening pretty well, though cuddling him turned out to be the most vivid memory. (It had felt as if he put a flame in her chest, but that flame was also what made her feel more alive than skating or singing or anything else she’d ever done.)

“I’d rather we not speak of drunk me again.”

Matteo let himself fall on the couch and pouted at her but waved her over at the same time. “I liked drunk you. Sober you doesn’t compliment me half as much.”

Luna climbed on his lap. “Sober me has to protect the world from your ego, that’s why.”

In the end, she had to kiss his pout away. Not that she minded.

Luna sat on his lap. His shirt had magically found its way on the ground and her hand cradled his hair. At first, her other hand gently rested on his cheek, but soon she caused goosebumps all over his skin. Featherlight kisses on his jawline, on his mouth, on his neck deleted any coherent thoughts, and he tried to get a hold of whatever was closest to his own mouth. Her nose brushed against his jawline before she went for this little spot behind his ears that just felt so good.

Matteo almost giggled when her knees pressed into his sides at her attempt to get closer but there were her lips on his and he could only pull her in.

“I really like that you have the whole house to yourself”, she whispered in between slow kisses.

He slightly nodded as to not disturb her in her mission to kiss as many spots of his face as possible. “I really like that your parents let you stay over.”

As she left more pecks on his cheek, he felt her grin. Her fingers painted the lines of his body in glorious colors, like an artist created a masterpiece, leaving behind a trail of her love wherever she touched him.

“The only reason they let me is because you finally had dinner with us and convinced them you don’t just want to seduce me.”

Matteo chuckled. Even in case he planned to seduce her – one look from her and he’d do anything she wanted.

“I even had to have this embarrassing ‘We hope you are staying safe’ talk”, she went on. A blush slipped on her face.

By the stars, he’d take in the sight of her for the rest of time without getting tired.

“And?”, he asked, pretending they hadn’t had this conversation yet. “Are you? Staying safe?” His hands ran along her spine. She arched into him, resting her head on his shoulder. At the sensation of his lips on her hair, she sighed.

“Let’s see – I’m alone with my boyfriend in a huge house. His shirt is off and we’re making out on his couch…”

“So?”

Luna grinned into his shoulder. “I think I’m good.”

He began to draw circles on her back, sometimes sneaking down to the hem of her top. “They’re probably happy to hear that.” Luna wrapped her arms around his neck. “And your parents?”

A huff escaped before he got the chance to hold it in. “They’re not too invested in my life and this time, I’m actually glad about it.”

Within a moment, she sat up enough to meet his eyes. She opened her mouth, perhaps to say she felt sorry for him – either way, he didn’t let her and kissed her instead.

More kisses. Calm and steady, like rain drops against his window on a summer night. His legs eventually lost all feeling, which didn’t matter. Luna made him feel so many things, so many more things than he’d ever imagined, that numb legs wouldn’t stop him from tasting her lips.

Luna simply was intoxicating.

And tired. She broke away to yawn loudly, then rubbed her eyes.

“I think we should go to bed”, Matteo said, caressing her cheek. A smile, sluggish yet warm. “Only if you keep your shirt off.”

Darkness. His blanket. And Luna in his arms, peacefully breathing into his chest.

Matteo knew he should feel happy.

He did. Mostly. Because this one thought, this one crippling fear of his, grew louder and stronger the more time he spent with Luna.

First, it only hovered in the back of his mind, kept in check by all the light she radiated. The darkness now lured it out of that corner, until he felt like he’d explode if he didn’t ask her.

“Are you awake?” he whispered into the silence.

Luna shifted, a soft groan on her lips. “Hm? You okay?” Her voice reminded him of her drunk version. Perhaps – hopefully – she’d be just as honest.

“Would you leave me? If you find your soulmate?”

“What?”

Surprise, even shock filled her tone. “No! I’d never leave you.” As if to prove it, she wrapped her arm around him and robbed closer.

His doubt remained, and he hated himself for it. “What if… what if you only think that now?”

She caught his lips, but he was certain he left a bitter taste, and she pulled away soon. “Listen”, her finger poked his chest, tapping it with each word she spoke. “I’m not waiting to meet someone who might not even exist for all I know.”

Matteo breathed in deeply. The nausea slowly faded from his stomach pit, the oxygen flew into his lungs more easily.

“I don’t even know if that person is real or if I have seen them before or even know them already, and I don’t care”, Luna continued. “I don’t care, because I don’t want someone else and you are not a puffer until I meet my soulmate. You’re not second best. This is my choice, and I choose you. Got it?”

In loss for words, he hugged her. (If you could hug a person you laid in bed with and they already were in your arms.) “I choose you too. Thank you.”

This time, when they kissed, she didn’t pull away. He did, but only to worship the soft skin of her neck.

“What are you doing?”, Luna asked, her voice hoarse now, an indistinct moan hidden in it.

“Nothing. But you might wanna use your scarf tomorrow.”

“Matteo!”

Of course, meeting Gastón by the rink the next day ended up in an awkward situation. For Luna, anyway. Her idiot boyfriend grinned so hard his mouth almost formed a circle.

“I see you’re wearing my scarf.” A satisfied smirk and wiggling eyebrows, always the wiggling eyebrows. “Nice.”

His closet was gigantic. Literally, and ridiculously gigantic, both Luna and all her clothes would fit into this monstrosity ten times. She never even imagined the possibility of someone owning a closet like that, except for Ámbar, of course.

How was she supposed to find a blanket in here?

“It’s somewhere in the lower drawers”, Matteo told her while he put his shirt back on.

When she opened the first drawer, she found no blanket.

She found something much better.

“I can’t believe you own hoodies”, she gasped, her mouth even formed this little ‘o’ but then, she snickered, “Or wear them.”

He muttered something that she failed to understand. Maybe some Italian curses? At least he showed no intention of stopping her, so she dug further. Between two dark blue hoodies, one piece of cotton looked weirdly familiar.

“Hey, I think I know this one! You wore it before, no?”

No answer.

Her brain sorted through her memory, in eager search for the right moment. It must’ve been months ago… Only after a few seconds passed did she remember. “Oh, I know, when you were skating with Gastón in the park and I ended up watching you!”

Matteo groaned. Although the first three buttons of his shirt weren’t closed yet, he shot forward to get the hoodie away from her.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so”, Luna laughed, the hoodie tightly pressed to her chest. “You can have it back when you answer me one question.”

“What question?” “You were so cranky that day, and I always wondered what was wrong.”

A pout unfolded on his face. “It’s embarrassing.”

When she simply waved the hoodie in front of him, he sighed. “I didn’t expect you to be there, and I hadn’t put any effort whatsoever into how I looked.”

For a second, she believed he was joking. Matteo always cared about how he looked, regardless of where or who he was with. Always. That was just a part of him, end of it.

But a soft – the softest pink – spread over his cheeks, and it blew away her doubt. She stood on her toes to press a kiss on his blush. “Aww, that’s really adorable.”

“Can I get my hoodie back now? And can you get this blanket, so we can go and pretend this never happened? Please?”

“No.” With a grin, Luna pulled the hoodie over her head. The cotton felt soft on her skin – whoever took care of the laundry surely used fabric softener – and when she buried her nose in it, it still gave off the scent of his perfume. (Or deo, Luna wasn’t sure.)

“I don’t need a blanket, I’ll just wear this.” It fit her like a blanket anyway. “Oh, and don’t forget these open buttons”, she added, chuckling. “No one wants to see you half-naked.”

Finally, this sparked a smirk on Matteo’s lips. “Didn’t seem like that earlier.”

Every word failed to grasp the color of the sunset in front of him. Not really pink, not really orange, only these vibrant last rays of the sun against the baby blue sky leaking through the clouds.

A beautiful sight, truly, still his gaze ended up stuck on Luna.

“Sure you don’t want a blanket?” he snickered as yet another shiver ran over her spine.

“I can use you as one”, she replied, robbing closer until her head rested on his chest and her hands sneaked between their bodies. He felt the coldness coming from her skin through his clothes. When he slightly shook his head at her, she only snuggled closer.

“But now you can’t see the stars.”

“I can look at you instead”, she whispered, “You are so beautiful.”

“Not as much as you are.”

In her eyes, he found a reflection of himself. The fondness in them rendered him speechless, it warmed his bones better than any tea or blanket ever could and it was all he could focus on in this moment.

A part of him continued to struggle, struggled to believe he deserved so much happiness. That he got to lay here, with her in his arms, and that things were perfectly fine, that they fit like a puzzle he’d been trying to solve his whole life. Luna’s words rang in his ears, resonating in his heart as well – I choose you.

They weren’t soulmates, but for the first time, the thought didn’t bother him. It didn’t awake any fears or doubts, it was nothing but a thought. And, compared to all the other beautiful ones she evoked, it crumbled into a minor, unimportant one.

“Don’t fall asleep, you hear me?” He let his hand run over her arm, carefully so he wouldn’t disturb her in case she already drifted away behind her closing eyes.

“Mh-hm”, she mumbled. Eventually, the movement of his chest bothered her enough to lift her head. “What?”

Another smile on his lips. She looked so adorable, and his heart calmly beat in his ribcage and he felt at home, like he belonged right here, like every other place he’d ever seen only existed to lead him to this moment, to her.

“Nothing. I’ve just been thinking.”

“You can do that?” She laughed and flipped his nose. He snorted, glad she couldn’t see the grin his mouth formed. “And what were you thinking?”, she wanted to know but before she gave him the chance to reply, she kissed him. Her hand cupped his cheek and when she pulled away, her eyes outshone the brightest of stars sparkling above their heads.

He knew with every fiber of his being that this was the perfect moment. The one golden opportunity.

“I’m in love with you, Luna.”

#soy luna #lutteo #my sl fanfiction #a sound so sweet of you and me #I love the chapter title bc it's the most accurate one ever #anyway I hope you enjoyed it :D

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jacobthespaceguy · 3 years ago

Text

New life, new computer & new perspective.

I wrote this half a year ago and forgot to post this. Enjoy.

Dear Cosmonauts,

Greetings! It’s me, your boy! Did you miss me? No? Yeah, not too surprised. To be honest, I would be genuinely surprised if anyone actually read these. It’ll never stop me though. I love using this as some kind of escape. I think I’m trying to say that I’m officially back to blogging! Well actually, I never was in a state of, “blogging.” I just simply make a blog post every once in a while. So instead of being back, I guess I will simply start blogging more often. At the very least, try to. In an ideal world, I would create entries at least once a month, that’s not too much to ask for... just a few paragraphs every month. Sounds easy enough... On that note, it probably isn’t. But maybe it is. It depends on your personality.

Laziness. Saying laziness defines me is an understatement. I don’t want to be lazy nor do I wish I was. I’m honestly not too sure why I'm so lazy. I think this pandemic just made it really bad. Working from home 3/5 days of the week changes you. Early on, I figured I would be able to use this extra time to work on more music and I even started being a mixing/mastering engineer for a friend of mines. However, I ended up using this extra time to stay in bed and be useless. Some would say I'm being hard on myself but I'm not. I stay in bed and I waste my time, my friend's time, and overall, I'm just a useless human being. I feel like a failure sometimes. However, I do hold on to the hope that I can change. I want to change. Some days, I tell myself, "I'll be productive this time," but then stay in bed half the day. By the time I'm up and eaten breakfast and done my whole morning routine... it'll be 2 o'clock and the day is practically over. It's not really over, but it'll feel like it. It sucks. Now the pandemic is ending and I'll probably have to go back to work full time soon. I have no idea how I'm going to cope with that. I'm already depresso mode from things changing so much around me that I feel like a hermit and want to hide under my desk for the rest of my life. I hate change. I hate it, hate it, HATE IT. I know change is good and if my music career takes off, then they'll be a lot of change. Although, I would rather endure that kind of pressure than have to go back to work. Every day to get to my work is a 40-minute drive there, and an hour drive back since traffic is so bad. I know other people have it worse, but with how tired I am after a shift, I have days where I lay on my bedroom floor doing nothing and or nap until I finally get up to shower, eat dinner and finally get to the home activities I wanted to. However, at this point, it'll be 7 PM and I'm too tired to do anything other than watch YouTube videos until 1 AM, and then it's finally time to go to bed. It's a struggle and I can't seem to escape it.

I don't even know what I'm writing anymore and lost track of where I was going with this. I guess it's to complain about hating work and or my laziness? I originally started writing this post with the intention to talk about my new computer and how writing a blog post with it is a vibe. I bought a mid-2017 MacBook Pro back in August of 2019. It was the most absolute base model and only had 128 gb of storage and 8 gb of ram. WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF! I loved the flexibility of having a decent laptop for when I travel, but this was a bad purchase that left me financially ruined. I want to say that it was a terrible machine and I hated it. However, it ran decently most of the time and I must confess that Apple just knows what they're doing when designing computers. I can't argue though, since I started this blog, I became an Apple fanboy and I'm seriously buried in the Apple ecosystem. My phone, laptop, tablet at one point but sold, my credit card, my watch, earphones, and tracking devices are all connected to Apple and they basically run my life. However, my main machine will likely always be a Windows desktop.

Back to the MacBook Pro, my 2017 laptop having 128 gb made the machine unusable for me. Apple offering a 128 gb machine was a cardinal sin and I do the happy dance every morning knowing they no longer exist. After downloading Reason and Logic Pro, I had about 8 gb for any else I wanted to use. I couldn't even have all of Logic's sounds installed. Ugh. I never used the machine because I resented it so much. However, I recently started using it to record my vocals because the fans (despite going up 1000 db when I record in Reason) were quieter than having my desktop fans on when recording so I opted to use my MacBook Pro to record instead. In addition, it was really nice to have when I was on the go and needed a computer. Despite being a baseline laptop, it ran the project file for my song, "Nothing Was The Same," decently enough for me to get some mixing done at my Dad's house late last year. It still chugged pretty bad when I was traversing through Reason's sequencer. My final straw was when I wanted to try a vocal plug-in that refused to work on my PC so I pulled out my MacBook Pro and installed it on there and it worked perfectly. I was like, "Man, I wish this MacBook Pro just had a little more storage so I can actually use it efficiently." That's when the idea came to me, "Holy crap, let's just buy a new MacBook."

I would constantly go to Apple's website and look at their newest 16" MacBook Pro. It's when Apple finally let go of the butterfly switches on their keyboard and went back to a scissor-switch design and improved the heck out of the performance. It was a beautiful machine and I wanted it ever since they announced it. So I went back on Apple's website last week after testing that vocal plug-in and was reminded of the horrendous price. $3,000 for a decently specced computer was just too much. Someone on Reddit was telling me how great Apple's refurbished computers are and that they're basically brand new aside from the regular box it comes in. So I decided I wanted to get a refurbished MacBook Pro. However, the next morning, I decided to do a little more research and I thank God I did because after a little research, I saw how much better the new 13" M1 chip MacBook Pro was over the current 16" Intel MacBook Pro and that it was the best laptop to buy. Even better, it's cheaper. So after more research, I decided to buy a refurbished max specced out M1 MacBook Pro. I finally have 2 tb of storage. 2 TB!!! I have more storage on this laptop than on my Windows desktop. I also went with silver over space grey like my other MacBook simply because it looks so much cooler. I don't care for space grey anymore. Something about the classic silver is where it's at. Also, this keyboard is amazing! I'm using it right now to type this. The Touch Bar is pretty cool too. I thought it would be a weird adjustment but it was actually pretty seamless. My only complaint is that it's easier to tap it and do something while typing on the keyboard. Happened to me twice while typing this. Although, all I did was open the emoji window so it wasn't even an issue. However, I think I type a bit in an unconventional way than most of you reading this do so just ignore me. I would also like to brag about how quiet this computer is. I haven't heard the fan once and it's dead quiet. In fact, the M1 MacBook Air doesn't even have a fan, that's how good this new Apple silicon is. Lastly, I haven't had the computer heat up at all yet. I'm typing this using safari with a few tabs open, Logic Pro in the background and there's no part of the computer that's hot right now. My lap would've melted if I was using my 2017 MacBook and it's in great shape! I want to say this computer is a beast but, to be honest, I haven't had a chance to stress test it yet. I've had the computer for less than a week. I will definitely keep you all updated.

Wow, I can't believe I typed all of this simply because I imagined Adam Young in his basement late at night with his MacBook Pro writing his magnificent blog posts that inspired me to start this blog in the first place. For whatever reason, it's a real vibe for me and as I was fumbling through Logic Pro, I had the idea to write a blog and all of this entry just poured out from my brain to this text box. I sincerely apologize to anyone reading this far and to my future self who probably just spent 20 minutes proofreading and fixing errors I made. I'd imagine all the run-on sentences are probably infuriating. I think I spent 40 minutes to an hour just writing this.

In conclusion, I'm writing blog posts again and plan to release new entries at least somewhat often. I have quite a few ideas of things I want to talk about, so you guys will get to pick my brain soon enough. In addition, I may go public about this blog. It is public but I announced it a long time ago and I wasn't very big. But with my podcast and additional following over the years, I may finally get some readers. I'd be surprised if more than 3 people have seen my blog which I'm not upset about. I'm treating this as my personal time capsule and it's fun to go back and read. In addition, I'm going to die someday. I don't know when and how, but it provides a little bit of comfort knowing a potential love one may find this one day after my unfortunate death and get hours of personal content that they can read over any time. I don't mean to get morbid and I don't mean to say my blog is the second coming of Christ. I don't know what I'm saying other than I hope you enjoy it. Anywho, I plan to make blog posts more coherent and not so all over the place. I went from being lazy/hating work, MacBook Pros, and then to my death, all in the same post. I just got so excited once I started typing and couldn't stop. More posts to come. Thank you and goodnight.

-Sincerely,

Jacob McDonnell

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