#i know i should really get back into piano since i have a keyboard and yk. fundamentals of music and all that good shit

[nintendont2502]

I should learn drums that would increase my tboy swag by like. At least 50% I think

[jupiterpilgrim]

The Pleasure Equation: When the Nerd Solves Everything, Including You

Nayeon x Male Reader

word count: 8.2k

a/n: Yo, my first published smut. I hope you like it. Feel free to tell me what you think.

—

You're lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling and wondering why, in the 21st century, universities still think pairing people for projects is a good idea. Plus, you're terrible at this subject. Advanced Calculus? They might as well call it "How to Ruin My Weekend." The only saving grace is that your partner, Nayeon, the biggest nerd in class, will handle most of it. For you, it seems like a golden ticket: she does the work, and you pretend you helped. It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

The doorbell rings. Of course, it’s her. You were expecting it—you could almost time Nayeon's nerdy punctuality. And, as always, she looks like the picture-perfect good girl—cardigan, glasses, skirt, that innocent, serious air of someone more interested in spreadsheets than in people. The kind of girl most guys wouldn't look at twice. But you, well, you had to look. It was obligatory since she was going to carry your weight in this project.

You open the door, and there she is, laptop under her arm, shy smile and everything you imagined. The nerd who's here to save your semester.

What you didn’t know—and God knew you were about to find out—is that Nayeon had planned a different type of study for this project.

She walks in with that confident stride that only people who are either extremely smart or who know the subject is your lifeline have. And honestly, you’re not ready for the energy she brings.

“Hi,” she says, glancing around your house, skipping any small talk.

“Hey, Nayeon. Nice to have you here.” You try to sound more enthusiastic than you really are. “Want anything? Water, juice, tea?” you offer, hoping to buy yourself a few more minutes of procrastination before facing the project.

“No, thanks.” She looks at you over her glasses, almost as if she’s analyzing your soul. “I think we should just get started. The sooner we finish, the better.”

“Yeah, better,” you think. And with that, off you go to your bedroom. Yes, the bedroom, because it’s the only place in the house that seems even remotely presentable. There are piles of books (that you haven’t read, just skimmed for the basics), notebooks with ridiculously short notes you took, some clothes scattered here and there... oh, and your unmade but perfectly comfortable bed, where you sit on the edge. It was a clinically tidy room compared to the living room or the kitchen.

Nayeon doesn't seem to care about anything. She sits at the desk chair and opens her laptop.

The project, of course, is about "Modeling Algebraic Functions for the Optimization of Industrial Processes." Or something equally mind-numbing that only Nayeon seems to understand. You’re more lost than someone trying to solve a Rubik's cube in the dark. And it’s all because of your dad, who, in his non-threatening way, persuaded you to follow the family career path. Damn Engineering (and tradition).

Nayeon, as always, is already deep into the work, fingers flying over the keyboard while her glasses slip to the tip of her nose, balancing dangerously between focused nerd and, well... ¿sexy? nerd?

Not that you’d admit that.

She glances at you, and for a second, you almost feel like she expects you to say something useful. Which, of course, would be a grave miscalculation. Literally.

“So, I thought you could start with the part about differential equations,” she says, making the suggestion with the ease of someone asking you to hold a cup, when what she’s really offering is a grand piano. “And then the graphs…”

You pretend to be genuinely interested. Which means nodding in a way that could be mistaken for understanding if someone looked quickly, but in reality, you're utterly lost.

“Oh, sure, differential equations…” you repeat, as if the words held any special meaning. They don’t.

Nayeon sighs and goes back to typing, clearly aware of the level of uselessness you're operating at. She’s probably already mentally dividing the entire project, calculating how many extra hours she'll need to cover for the fact that you're, essentially, dead weight.

“Maybe you could review the introduction,” she suggests, polite but with the patience of someone talking to a child who still doesn’t know the difference between shapes.

You scratch your head, pretending to read the introduction she’s already written. One, two lines. Everything looks very... professional. You attempt to seem helpful:

“You know, I think you’re... um... doing great with this. Maybe... maybe I should focus more on the creative part of the project, like... the presentation design?” you suggest, smiling, as if making a PowerPoint full of silly animations was an undervalued talent in academia.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Design?” Nayeon asks, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “In an Advanced Calculus project? You want to fill the presentation with glitter and stars, is that it?”

“Hey, glitter makes everything better,” you reply, defensive, but unable to suppress a smile. “Maybe throw in some memes to lighten the mood… People love memes... I guess.”

“I’m not sure if you're joking or if you've completely given up on life,” Nayeon mutters, with a short, dry laugh, returning to the keyboard.

You shift on the bed, trying to find a position that seems less like a desperate student and more like someone slightly focused on the project. The silence is broken only by the sound of her typing and your occasional murmur of fake approval: “Hmm, sure, that makes sense…”

It doesn’t.

Then, out of nowhere, Nayeon looks at you again, but this time with a different kind of curiosity. There’s something in her eyes, something that goes beyond pure calculation—and we’re not talking about the equations.

“You live alone, right?” The question comes casually, almost innocently. Almost.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” you answer, a bit confused by the sudden shift. “Why?”

“Just... curious,” she replies, but the smile she gives is far from innocent. “It must be nice living alone. I bet you can do whatever you want, right? No one around to hear...”

“Yeah, kind of,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “Like... I can have pizza for breakfast without being judged. And play video games late. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”

Nayeon laughs, but in a way that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, like she knows something you don’t.

“And... what do you mean by ‘do whatever you want’?” you ask, hesitant but unable to resist the curiosity.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, looking away for a second. “Just thinking... it must be interesting. Having that kind of freedom.”

She pauses and looks directly at you again, her fingers sliding slowly across the keyboard, as if the project was now the last thing on her mind.

“Tell me something... what’s your type?” The question lands like a stone thrown into a calm lake, sending ripples of confusion through you.

You almost choke.

“My... type?” you repeat, as if it’s a math problem with too many variables.

“Yeah, like... what do you find attractive in someone?” Nayeon continues, her voice far too casual for the situation. She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours.

“Well, I dunno.” You shift uncomfortably. “I guess... someone fun, you know? Someone who can make me laugh.”

“Hmm. And me?” Nayeon tilts her head, her glasses now low enough to reveal her sharp eyes behind them. “Do I make you laugh?”

You freeze, because the right answer to this feels like a trap.

Sure, Nayeon’s made you laugh plenty of times, especially when she freaks out over losing half a point on a test. But that doesn’t seem like the kind of "laugh" she’s asking about.

“Uh, yeah, of course!” you respond, quickly. “I mean, in a good way. Not that I’m laughing *at* you, but... you know what I mean, right?”

She smiles, and you’re not sure if she’s satisfied with your answer or just amused by your nervousness.

“You know,” Nayeon continues, “I think I prefer guys who... know what they want. Guys with attitude.”

You nod, trying to process what’s happening.

“Oh, sure. Attitude is always good, right?” you reply, having no idea where this conversation is heading.

She looks at you in a way that feels almost predatory, and you realize that, somehow, whatever control you thought you had over this situation (even a little) now belongs entirely to her.

“Do you have it?” she asks. “Attitude?”

At that moment, you realize two things: first, Nayeon isn’t interested in solving differential equations today. And second, you probably should’ve agreed to do the graphs.

You feel the pressure of the question like a multiple-choice exam where all the answers seem wrong.

"Now?" you stammer, as if time itself is about to collapse. "Uh… I don’t know, I think we’re in the middle of a project, right? I wouldn’t want to interrupt…"

"Interrupt?" She lets out a short laugh. "I think work went out the window a long time ago, don’t you?"

With that, she stands up, closing the laptop, and starts walking slowly around the room, as if inspecting the space, or maybe just teasing you on purpose. Every step she takes seems more choreographed than anything you’ve ever seen on stage.

Suddenly, she stops, untying her hair and shaking it loose.

"You know," she continues, turning her gaze back to you, "I thought of a way to make things more interesting."

Your brain, of course, is already in full panic mode, but your mouth, as always, insists on trying to sound casual.

"Really? Interesting how?" you ask, hoping the answer isn’t something like "Russian roulette."

She crosses her arms. You realize that, at some point, you completely lost any chance of controlling your own fate.

"A game," Nayeon says, with a sly smile. "Let’s play a game. What do you say?"

"What kind of game?" you ask, already regretting letting curiosity win over survival instinct.

"Oh, don’t worry, nothing too crazy," she replies, shrugging as if the suggestion were perfectly innocent. "Something fun, to relax, since the project clearly isn’t going anywhere today."

She steps closer to you, with that conspiratorial air of someone about to suggest something really dangerous.

"What do you think?" she whispers, lowering her voice. "You up for playing with me?"

"Err... depends on the game, right?" you reply, trying to sound laid-back.

Her eyes gleam behind her glasses, and the smile on her lips is pure provocation.

"Let’s see… How about something simple?" she suggests, her eyes never leaving yours. "Questions and answers. To test what you've been learning in the course."

"Just that?" you ask, half skeptical, half curious.

She speaks with a lightness that contrasts the intensity of her proposal:

"Of course not. For every question you get right, I’ll take off a piece of clothing."

You blink. Blink again. And then a third time, just to make sure you heard correctly.

"What?" you blurt out, a laugh escaping before you can control it. "You’re kidding, right?"

Nayeon crosses her arms, that crafty smile still on her face. Apparently, she’s not kidding.

"I’m dead serious. And if you manage to make me take off everything, I’ll give you a prize."

"A prize?" You try to keep your composure, but all you can think about is that maybe studying Calculus isn’t so bad after all. "What kind of prize?"

Nayeon doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she lifts her skirt just enough to reveal a glimpse of her panties — white, of course, because even in this, she has to be precise and teasing.

You swallow hard, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Suddenly, the temperature in the room rises by five degrees, and it has nothing to do with global warming.

"Hm... okay, let’s go," you respond, trying to sound casual, but in reality, your mind is a complete mess. Who knew the class nerd had this side to her?

"Great." Nayeon giggles before adjusting her glasses and kicking off her shoes to, let’s say, get more comfortable. "First question: What’s the basic principle of algebraic function modeling applied to industrial process optimization?"

You stare at her. Of course, it wasn’t going to be an easy game. Your brain tries, with herculean effort, to remember what the hell that means.

"Hm… I think… it’s using equations to simplify a complex process?" you guess.

She smiles.

"Well, close enough. You got the general concept," she says.

She starts with the most innocent pieces, of course. The cardigan that you barely noticed she was wearing, because let’s be honest, your focus was more on the project — or on how not to do it... Well, at least that’s what you thought. Now, the focus has definitely changed. Every button that opens feels like a small personal victory. And before you know it, the cardigan is on the floor. She looks at you with a sly smile.

"Shall we continue?"

"Damn right, I’m enjoying this!"

"How do you define an improper integral?"

You blink. Of course, she’d come up with one of those questions you never knew the answer to.

"An… improbable integral?"

She laughs, a clear, almost musical sound that fills the room. If Nayeon were the type of person who enjoyed academically torturing others, she was definitely on the right track.

"I’ll give you a hint," she leans forward, just enough for you to see part of the top underneath her perfectly white blouse. "It has something to do with limits."

Limits. Of course. Yours are being tested in a different way. You vaguely remember the professor mentioning something about this, between naps.

"Oh, right! It’s when the interval goes to infinity, right?" you venture, your heart already beating faster.

"Correct!" She claps her hands, feigning innocent excitement that definitely doesn’t match the way her hands move toward the buttons of her blouse. One button, two, three... and soon, Nayeon’s blouse is off, revealing a black camisole, tight enough to show that she had planned all of this meticulously.

You exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Now, you’re invested in the game.

"Next question: What are the three most common methods to solve a system of linear equations?"

Linear equations? Of course, you slept through that class. But then… things start to click.

"Elimination, substitution, and… matrices."

"You’re getting the hang of it, huh?" she says, her voice almost a purr.

Without hesitation, she leans back a little and, with a slow, sensual gesture, removes the black camisole, now revealing a delicate white bra, almost the same shade as her skin.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, but somehow, you’re starting to enjoy the game, and oddly enough, math too. Well, this is definitely a more rewarding way to learn something you don’t like.

"Now an easier one," she teases, as if giving you a break. "How do you calculate the area under a curve?"

You swallow hard, not because of the question, but because Nayeon is crossing her arms in a way that’s far from casual, emphasizing even more what’s... well, on display.

"Definite integrals," you answer quickly, perhaps with more enthusiasm than necessary.

She gives a small round of applause, but this time doesn’t make any immediate move to take off anything else.

"Very good! But... are you sure you want to continue?" she asks, tilting her head, as her fingers rest on the zipper of her skirt.

You’re not sure if you want to continue the game or skip straight to the “prize,” but whatever it is, you need this girl naked. But for that you need to concentrate, but how would you do it? It's certainly not easy. Not when she runs her fingers, provocatively slow, to the zipper of her skirt.

“Alright, just one more, then,” she says, with a false lightness that only adds to the tension in the air, “a simpler one, I promise. If you get it right, I’ll take off one more piece. If you get it wrong… the game’s over.”

Your mind is racing, a mix of nerves and pure curiosity. After all, how did you end up here, being quizzed by Nayeon, The Nerd™? And now, The Nerd™ was about to strip.

Weird world.

“Okay… ask the question,” you say, trying to seem calm. Just trying.

Nayeon raises an eyebrow, still toying with the zipper of her skirt, but not pulling it down at all, just… waiting. “What’s Stokes' theorem?” she asks.

You almost laugh. Not really, more like a nervous chuckle that escapes before you realize… crap, you actually don’t remember.

“Erm…” you begin, desperately searching for some vague memory of a class you definitely slept through.

Nayeon doesn’t miss the look of panic on your face.

“Ah, struggling?” she asks, her voice sweetly sadistic. “How about a hint?” She leans in, the skirt still untouched, but in a deliberate move, she adjusts her bra, already more revealing than it should be, giving you a clear view of her generous cleavage.

You clear your throat, dying a little inside but trying to maintain your composure.

“Uh, it has to do with surface integrals, right? Something about flows… and vectors…”

“Exactly! Flows and vectors,” she repeats, satisfied. And then, in an almost innocent gesture, as if she were merely taking off an uncomfortable shoe after a long day, she pulls the zipper of the skirt, which slides down her legs, hitting the floor like it didn’t even matter, revealing her bare legs and white panties. Her thighs are even more perfect than you imagined—toned, lightly defined. Your throat dries up as if you’ve just run a marathon, but the only thing racing is your heart.

Honestly, you’re never really prepared for every time she gets more and more exposed. She places a hand on her hip, looking at you with that expression that makes you wonder how you never realized this before—that yes, Nayeon, the “nerd” of the class, was a girl far more complex than any Stokes theorem.

“So, what now? Want to continue or… are you satisfied?” She pouts adorably, challenging you, and you know, at that moment, that she wants you to keep going. After all, she’s having way too much fun.

You take a deep breath, determined, even though your mind is light-years away from any coherent thought.

“Sure. Next question. I’m going to win my prize.”

“What a determined guy,” Nayeon chuckles softly, with that teasing air, as if you were on a quiz show and not in some sort of erotically torturous strip game for the brave. “Alright then… explain the principle of superposition.”

She knew you had no idea. You knew that she knew. But what did it matter? What mattered was that your eyes were glued to every movement she made. She tilted her head, playing with the strap of her bra.

You think for a moment. Superposition… electric fields… sure, you got this.

“It’s when, hmm…” your voice cracks, but you force yourself to sound confident. “It’s when the sum of the effects of multiple causes is equal to the sum of the individual causes. Each field acts like the others aren’t even there.”

She leans in, subtly, fiddling with the strap of her bra, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Exactly,” she says, letting the strap fall with a slow motion from one shoulder. And then, from the other. “Congratulations.”

The bra falls to the floor.

You try, honestly try, to keep your focus on what’s happening, but there’s a problem. Actually, two, and both of them are right in front of you, fully exposed. No matter how much your mind insists that you need to concentrate on the game… you simply can’t.

“J-just one more question, right?” You stammer, desperately trying to focus on your shoes, the wall, anything but… well, Nayeon, and the fact that she was now practically naked.

She leans forward slightly, arms “casually” crossed, and you’re convinced she did this just to make sure your brain imploded. One of her breasts lightly brushes against her arm, and your mind screams something between HELP and THANK YOU.

"Exactly,” she says, and there’s a hint of malice in her voice, that tone that indicates she knows by now you’re one step away from a complete meltdown. “One last question. If you get it right… you win your prize. If you get it wrong… you’ll do the entire project alone.”

Your head throbs, struggling to focus on anything besides her smooth skin and the hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

“Alone?” you repeat, dumbfounded. A simple word, but you can barely get it out.

She bites her lip, enjoying herself. And then, in the most seductive voice possible, she drops the bomb:

“Of course… if you mess up now in the final minutes, you’ll have to do it all on your own. But if you get it right, you’ll see what’s under this,” she pulls at the side of her white panties slightly, just enough to let your imagination spin. “And who knows what else…” Her voice is a caress wrapped in pure temptation.

Yeah, it’s worth the risk.

Focus, you tell yourself, as if that’s remotely possible. Here you are, in a state of complete mental confusion, and Nayeon is there, almost naked, suggesting there’s just one question left before… well, paradise. And hell, too, because clearly, you wouldn’t survive doing this fucked-up project alone.

“Alright, let’s go,” you force the words out. “What’s the last question?”

Nayeon smiles in a way that says, I got you. And of course, she did. She leans in again, this time closer, her panties still firmly in place, but for how long?

“Ready for this?” she murmurs, with the tone of a final temptation. “What law of electromagnetism describes the relationship between the circulation of a magnetic field along a closed path and the electric current passing through the surface enclosed by that path?”

You freeze. Your mind is almost there, trying to grab the answer from some corner not focused on the fact that Nayeon is practically naked in front of you.

“Uh…” you begin, Nayeon sways her hips as she waits. “It’s… it’s…” you struggle. Nothing. Your mind is completely blank, a screen of static.

Nayeon sighs, as if she’s genuinely disappointed. Of course she’s not. She’s having way too much fun for that.

“Need a hint?” she offers, with a smile as sweet as it is devastating.

You nod desperately. Anything, for God’s sake, anything to help!

She whispers softly, “This law introduced the concept of ‘displacement current.’”

You blink, and then, as if by some miracle, the answer comes to you. But before you can speak it aloud, Nayeon leans in again and your traitorous eyes glance at her exposed breasts.

You almost forget the answer entirely, but a slip or whatever that was makes you say, “Ampère-Maxwell’s Law,” your voice trembling, unsure if physics is about to save you or be the last nail in the coffin of your sanity.

Nayeon looks you up and down.

She approved.

Slowly, as if savoring the moment, in a exaggeratedly calculated movement, she pulls her panties down, revealing everything.

Her curves are so smooth they seem hand-carved by some Renaissance artist with a thing for naughty nerd girls. Her entire body is a work of art, every inch of her pure perfection, and as she moves closer, you feel like you’re about to lose control for good.

Nayeon sits beside you, her legs slightly apart so you can see her tight little pussy. She looks you up and down, the same look that used to seem like someone fully focused on her studies, now carrying much more obvious intentions.

"Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

You swallow hard, trying not to seem as out of control as you really are.

"Yeah... Very much..." you respond, your voice rougher than usual, and before you know it, Nayeon is leaning in closer, her body heat practically radiating onto you.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she whispers, her lips just inches from yours. The suggestion lingers in the air, and your body seems to move on its own. Your hand rises, hesitant, until it reaches her breasts, your fingers feeling the smoothness of her skin and the firmness that makes you forget about any equation or college project. You squeeze lightly, and Nayeon lets out a soft sigh that drives you even crazier.

She leans in more, her lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes are gleaming.

"I’ve always liked you, you know?" she confesses, lightly biting her lower lip as her hand slides down your chest. "I've always thought you were really hot… and smart, too. You just needed a little help focusing on what matters. You’ve got potential, you just need to get rid of the distractions."

You chuckle nervously, still trying to process what’s happening.

"I never imagined you were like this… You always seemed so… well-behaved." The words come out with difficulty, your mind still reeling between what you thought you knew about Nayeon and what you're discovering now.

She laughs softly, amused, her eyes half-closed as she replies.

"You can’t judge a book by its cover," she says, her voice almost a whispered secret, as if she’s letting you in on something few people are privileged to know.

She then pulls your hand to her waist, and you squeeze, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body under your fingers. Nayeon’s body fits against yours in a way that feels almost orchestrated. Her hands, agile and confident, slide down to your thigh, in a way that makes your breathing quicken even more.

And then you feel her touch on your groin. It’s a slow tease, and she looks into your eyes with a smile that’s almost victorious.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" she asks, her voice thick with desire.

Your heart is racing so fast you can barely think of a coherent response, but you nod, without hesitation.

"I do." The word escapes your lips, more of a groan than a response.

Nayeon smiles, that wicked smile you would never have associated with the girl who sat in the front row of the class.

"I’ve been dying to," she murmurs, the heat between you two rising with each second, promising much more than just an intellectual debate.

Nayeon kneels between your legs and prepares to take off her glasses. At that moment, it seems like the last facade of the “well-behaved nerd” is about to fall along with them. But you, in a sudden impulse of something even Freud would hesitate to analyze, reach out and say, almost automatically, “No, leave the glasses on. I like you like that.”

She stops, her fingers still hovering over the frames, and smiles in a way only someone about to change your fate could.

"Really?" She tilts her head, clearly liking the idea. Not just liking it—loving it. The kind of smile she gives you is one of someone who’s just gained a new strategic advantage in the game.

"Can you… do it… with the glasses on?" you ask, and honestly, now that the words are in the air, the question seems less weird than it should.

"Of course. If that’s what you want," Nayeon replies, the smile gaining an edge of provocation that makes you wonder if she hadn’t planned this all along.

She reaches for your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear. Nayeon touches your cock, and the sensation makes you realize how small her hands are. With incredibly soft fingers, she grips it firmly, as if evaluating something rare, a treasure she’s just found. Her eyes, still behind the lenses, look up at you.

"Wow..." she murmurs, impressed. "It’s so… big and thick.”

If you had any chance of keeping your composure, it vanished with that sentence.

"Your hand… is so soft," you manage to say, your brain desperately trying to keep up with what’s happening.

Nayeon smiles.

"Oh, if you liked that, just wait until I put it in my mouth."

And that’s exactly what she does. Nayeon spits into her palm, the quick, indecent sound echoing in the room, and starts stroking you, her touch now sliding with the ease of something well-lubricated, almost clinical—if it weren’t absolutely pornographic.

And then, with little warning, she swallows.

Just like that. As if she’d been trained at some secret school of forbidden pleasure, her mouth wraps around your cock, warm, wet, and with a desire bordering on voracious. She looks up at you from below, her glasses still firmly in place.

You writhe in pleasure. Nothing else matters. Not the project, not life’s worries. Just Nayeon, and the way she sucks, kisses, and takes you deep, with a dedication that would make anyone believe she’s indeed “studying” something.

"I’m going to use my breasts now," she says, stopping briefly, her voice slightly hoarse, as she adjusts her breasts, squeezing them around your cock.

Ah, Nayeon’s breasts. Warm, soft, and incredibly seductive, they create the perfect “pillow” as she starts giving you a titjob. And the glasses? Still there, perfectly framing her face, turning this whole thing into an improbable, yet wonderful fantasy.

The sensation of her breasts pressing against your cock is a next-level delight. Nayeon, with a mischievous look and a voice barely above a whisper, asks, "Are you enjoying this, babe?"

You can only groan in response, the sensation so intense that words refuse to form properly. Her breasts move up and down, creating a warm, sweaty pressure that’s almost indescribable. She adjusts the rhythm.

"This is..." you manage to say, your voice hoarse and breaking. "Fuck, this is amazing."

The pleasure builds, a rising heat that seems to have a life of its own as Nayeon keeps working her magic. Her breasts, pressing and rubbing with delicious intensity, create waves of pleasure that only get stronger.

As the rhythm quickens, Nayeon gives a satisfied smile. Her breasts continue to move up and down, the sensation around your cock hot and wet, and you feel the pressure and heat mounting.

You start to squirm, the sensations growing more and more intense. The pleasure is so overwhelming it feels like your body is on the verge of exploding. Nayeon adjusts the pressure and pace, making every touch and movement you feel even more intense.

“Am I making you feel good?” Nayeon asks.

You can only nod, the feeling of being on the brink of climax almost overwhelming. Your moans become more frequent, and you can feel yourself nearing the point of no return... something Nayeon hadn’t anticipated.

Then, just as the pleasure reaches an almost unbearable level, you cum. The first spurt surprises her, landing on her face. She stays there, wide-eyed and gasping, her glasses now smeared with your semen. She accepts what happened and keeps stroking you, and the second, weaker spurt drips down onto her breasts, slowly trickling. She finishes the job by rubbing your cock on her chest, spreading your cum all over her breasts until they’re thoroughly messy. When she stops, you exhale, feeling like you’re in paradise.

“Fuck… that was so damn good, Nayeon…”

She stays still for a moment, her expression a mix of surprise and indignation. The intensity of your orgasm seems to have caught her so off guard that even she needs a moment to process it.

“Why did you cum?!” Nayeon asks, removing her glasses, her voice filled with a mix of irritation and unfulfilled desire. “You haven’t even fucked me yet!”

Breathless and slightly embarrassed, you try to defuse the situation.

“Well, take it as a compliment,” you say, a sheepish smile forming on your face. “You’re just too hot for me to handle.”

Luckily for you, this makes Nayeon smile, the irritation melting into a flush. She relaxes, though still with a teasing edge.

“Tsk. But next time, don’t cum on my glasses,” she says, her voice softer now. “But if it felt good for you, I guess I can forgive it. Just know that I’ll make sure you get hard for me again,” she says with an authority that makes her even more irresistible.

Nayeon moves closer, slowly, like a predator about to capture its prey, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and mischief. You feel the air shift as she approaches, as though the entire room is holding its breath for what’s about to happen.

“Take off your clothes,” she commands, her voice low but filled with an authority that makes you obey without hesitation.

In an instant, you’re naked, sitting on the bed, vulnerable, your heart pounding faster. Nayeon watches you, a smile spreading across her lips, like she’s admiring a masterpiece she’s about to perfect. She sits beside you with a calculated calm, and before you know it, her lips are on yours—soft at first, then more intense, as if she’s learning every inch of your mouth.

Between kisses, her hand starts exploring your body, moving slowly, until it reaches exactly where you want it most. Her fingers wrap around your cock, and the touch is... electrifying. It’s not just any touch; it’s the kind that knows exactly what it’s doing. She strokes you lightly, almost teasingly, while her lips pull away just enough for her to whisper in your ear:

“Remember that time in class when the professor asked me to help you with an assignment?” She pauses, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you to fuck me until I came.”

The effect of her words is immediate. Your entire body reacts before your mind can even catch up. Your cock pulses hard in her hand, almost as if it’s following an unspoken command. She feels it and giggles softly, a sound just as provocative as every move of her fingers.

“Look at you…” she says, her voice full of amusement and a hint of mockery. “You’re getting hard for me again, aren’t you? What a naughty boy.”

Your heart races, and you can hardly respond. All you can do is gaze at her while your desire skyrockets. Her hand moves slowly and deliberately, teasing every part of you, while her eyes stay locked on yours, as if savoring every second.

“How badly do you want to fuck me?” Nayeon asks, her voice soft but filled with a promise you know she’ll fulfill.

“So much,” you reply, almost breathless, anticipation taking over every inch of your being.

She smirks—that dangerous smile that says, "Exactly what I wanted to hear." Her lips return to yours, but this time there’s more urgency, a hunger building with every passing moment. Her hand moves with more intention now, and your excitement grows at an unimaginable rate.

“I knew you were like this…” she murmurs between kisses, her lips nearly glued to yours. “Such a horny little thing, always wanting more.”

She tightens her grip slightly, making you squirm, the pleasure coursing through you with every squeeze, every word whispered like a secret shared only with you.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her eyes glint as her hand continues its strategic work. “You like me teasing you.”

“Yes,” you manage to say, your voice shaky with desire.

Nayeon pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her smile blending amusement with seduction.

“Good, because I love teasing you…” she says, then leans down, as if she’s about to do something even more daring. Her lips brush against your neck, lightly biting as her hand slides lower, teasing and gripping, leaving you on the edge of collapse.

“Think you can handle another round?” she asks, her voice now full of challenge.

“There’s only one way to find out,” you respond, trying to keep your composure but knowing you’re completely at her mercy.

“Let’s see then,” she whispers against your skin, and before you know it, she’s moving down, her lips traveling across your body, and you lean back onto the bed. She leaves a trail of kisses and bites along your chest and stomach, making her way lower.

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and with one final mischievous smile, she leans back up just enough to brush her lips against yours without fully kissing.

“Are you ready to fuck me now?” she asks.

And without a doubt, you are.

Nayeon lies back on the bed, slowly pulling you on top of her until you feel the warmth of her body against yours. The way she molds perfectly beneath you feels like she was made for this. Your hands trace the contours of her breasts, fingers pressing gently against her skin as you slide into her slowly, savoring every second. Your lips meet hers in a slow, intense kiss, tongues moving in sync with the rhythm of your hips—thrusting in and out, deepening with each stroke.

She moans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through your whole body, making you speed up a little while still keeping control. Nayeon breaks the kiss, throwing her head back, eyes closed, and you take the chance to kiss her neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat. "You like this, don't you?" you whisper in her ear, your voice low and husky as you keep thrusting, feeling how tightly she clenches around you.

"Fuck… yes," she breathes out, her nails now digging into your back, scratching you with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Fuck me harder."

You obey without thinking, picking up the pace, each thrust deeper and more deliberate. Her moans grow louder, almost turning into screams, and it only drives you to go harder. You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, sucking her lower lip between yours as your hips move in a nearly frantic rhythm. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixed with her broken moans and your own heavy breathing.

"You're so fucking hot," you say between kisses, softly biting along her jawline as you lose yourself in the sensation. "So tight… fuck, Nayeon."

She opens her eyes, looking at you with a mix of challenge and pleasure, her face flushed and sweaty. "Come on, fuck me harder… don’t stop," she pleads, pulling you down for another kiss, this one desperate, as if she needs every touch of yours to survive. You oblige, thrusting harder, while her moans turn into muffled cries as your mouths stay connected.

But then, you decide to switch positions. Science, after all, is about experimentation. You position her at the edge of the bed, Nayeon's legs lifted and spread wide, her pussy on full display—pink and pulsing, inviting. The sight makes you lose control for a moment as you grab her thighs, pulling her closer to you. With one hand, you line up your cock, the tip already slick with excitement, before sliding it inside, feeling the warmth wrap around you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with both your moans.

Nayeon looks up at you, a wild gleam in her eyes, completely different from the girl everyone thinks they know. "You're such a filthy pervert," she growls through gritted teeth, her voice low and dripping with lust. "Fucking your study partner like this, so dirty… Do you see what you've done to me? The little nerd everyone thinks is so innocent, and look where I am now, all spread out for you…"

The sound of her voice, the moans slipping out as you fuck her harder and deeper, only makes you lose more control. "Innocent?" you mutter, your breathing ragged. "You pretend to be the good little student, but with me, you love being a slut, don’t you?"

She lets out a wicked laugh, cut off by a louder moan as you thrust even deeper. "I fucking love it. I love how you make me forget everything… I love being your little slut. I’m all yours, and you can do whatever you want to me."

Your movements grow faster, each thrust pulling louder moans from her. You grip her thighs tight, pulling her into you with each thrust, your eyes fixed on the sight of your cock sliding in and out, completely soaked. "Look at you," you growl, your voice dripping with taunt. "So depraved… No one would guess that the nerdy girl from class is here, begging to be fucked like a whore."

Nayeon lets out a long, drawn-out moan, almost a scream, her body arching beneath you, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. "Yes! Fuck me harder, fuck! I want you to know this is what I love… I love being the little nerd only you can fuck like this. Faster, harder!"

You don't hesitate, your hips slamming against hers in a frenzied pace, the heat and pressure of every thrust consuming you both. Her legs tremble, and you keep pounding with force and precision. "Admit it, Nayeon," you say through gritted teeth, picking up the pace. "You love being my little slut…"

She opens her eyes, staring at you with an almost possessive intensity. "Fuck, yes! I’m your slut. Fuck me more, fuck my pussy like I’m only yours…" You lower yourself onto her, kissing her hard, pouring every bit of your heat into her through the kiss as you keep thrusting, and between desperate, erratic kisses, she gasps, "Take me from behind now. I want you deep inside me, you filthy pervert!”

You pull away from her, and Nayeon promptly positions herself on your messy bed, arching her back, ready. Your approach is almost reverent. You position yourself behind her as you lower your head slowly, your eyes tracing the sight she offers—her wet pussy, swollen with excitement, and just above, her tight little ass, teasing you. She’s so exposed, so vulnerable, yet there’s a confidence in her, like she’s fully aware of what’s coming. And that’s exactly what turns her on.

Before making a move, you let your warm breath brush against her skin, sending shivers through her body. Nayeon lets out a shaky sigh, and her back arches even more. “Don’t make me wait…” she murmurs, a mix of urgency and need in her voice.

With a sly grin, you lower your mouth, and your tongue finally touches the slick entrance of her pussy. The taste is addictive, just as you suspected. You start with soft, long licks, gliding along the length of her lips, savoring every drop of her juices. Nayeon responds immediately, letting out quiet moans, her breathing already quickening.

“You… know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” she asks, her voice broken by little gasps.

You chuckle lightly between licks but don’t answer. Your hands firmly grip Nayeon’s ass, keeping her in place as your tongue slides deeper, exploring her sensitive folds. Each time you graze the entrance of her pussy, it clenches, almost begging to be filled, but you refuse to give her everything at once. Instead, you decide to tease her even more.

Sliding your tongue upward, you slowly trace circles around her tight little asshole, making it wet with your saliva. The reaction is instant—Nayeon’s body trembles, and her moans intensify. “Oh my God… keep going… please…” she whispers, her voice a desperate plea.

You alternate between quick, gentle licks, sometimes focusing on her swollen, slick pussy, other times on her sensitive ass, driving her to the brink of losing control. Your tongue dances between the two spots, teasing and pleasing her at the same time. With every new touch, Nayeon’s moans grow louder, more urgent.

“You… you like this, don’t you, you pervert?” she asks with a muffled voice, her hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“I love how you taste,” you murmur against her skin.

She lets out a breathy laugh, somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. “Of course you do, I’m… delicious.” And you can’t help but agree. Your tongue continues to explore, licking deep into her pussy and then sliding up to her ass, enjoying the way her body reacts to every touch. Your fingers dig into her ass cheeks harder, leaving red marks on her pale skin.

Nayeon’s moans mix with uncontrollable whispers, each word escaping between ragged breaths. “Please… you’re killing me,” she begs, her voice thick with pleasure, her eyes half-closed in pure lust. “Fuck me… just fuck me already!”

Her plea is desperate, loaded with an almost imperious urgency, and you, with a mischievous smile, position yourself behind her, watching as she pushes her ass higher, her slick pussy begging for more. “You sure you can take it?” you tease, your hands already gripping her hips, but before she can even respond, you pull her back, aligning yourself with precision, the head of your cock brushing against her lips.

“Just do it, fuck,” Nayeon shouts, her tone commanding but dripping with so much desire that you can’t resist. In one swift motion, you thrust into her, and the wet heat of her pussy envelops you completely. Pleasure shoots through you like an electric current, and she arches her back, pushing against you, as if begging you to go deeper, faster.

You start slowly, savoring each thrust, each inch sliding in and out of her, but soon the pace picks up, driven by the uncontrollable moans pouring out of Nayeon. “Faster… harder,” she moans, her voice faltering with each deeper thrust, and you don’t hesitate. Your hands sink into the soft flesh of her hips, holding her steady as you speed up, the thrusts becoming more intense, more brutal.

“Look at you, so prim and proper in class, but here…” you say between thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Here you’re just my little slut. The nerd who loves being fucked like a whore.”

Nayeon moans loudly, her voice breaking into wicked laughter. “Is that what you want, huh? To know the nerd loves being fucked like this, like a depraved little slut… Make me scream, fuck!”

With each slap to her ass, she moans louder, her pale skin turning red with every hit. “Hit me harder,” she begs, her eyes gleaming with pleasure, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. And you oblige, slapping her harder, leaving red marks as you bury yourself deeper inside her.

“You’re an unbelievable slut,” you growl, picking up the pace, each thrust drawing louder and more desperate moans from her. “You pretend to be so good, but look at you now… begging for more.”

“I’m your slut,” she screams, pushing her ass back against you even harder. “Do whatever you want with me… I love being fucked like this, fuck! Make me yours, make me cum.”

You keep going, your thrusts becoming frenzied, your hips moving with an uncontrollable speed and intensity. “Fuck, look at you,” you taunt, feeling your own pleasure building. “You love being treated like this, like a desperate little whore. Scream for me, Nayeon.”

“Yes, yes!” she screams, her voice thick with pleasure, almost hoarse. “Fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, babe!”

Her body trembling as her climax approaches. Suddenly, she arches her back, pushing her ass harder against you, and her voice cracks as she screams, “I’m... going... to cum!”

Her pussy clenches tightly around your cock, pulsing and shaking as she’s overtaken by the orgasm, her whole body shuddering in ecstasy while your relentless thrusts continue. But you don't stop. Her pleasure only drives you further, each thrust pulling everything out of her, Nayeon’s body writhing, each scream feeding your own growing desire.

“Yeah… Fuck me, make me yours,” she keeps begging, even in the middle of her own climax, completely surrendered to the sensation.

You can feel your own orgasm building, heat rising fast, pressure mounting. “I’m going to cum,” you warn, your voice rough and broken, unable to stop as the final thrusts send you both over the edge.

The feeling of her pulsating pussy around your cock pushes you to the brink, and with one last frustrated groan, you pull out. Nayeon gasps for a moment, recovering from her orgasm as she kneels down on the floor, almost like she already knows what to do – and, honestly, she does. Her eyes lock on you, her face slightly flushed, and her mouth already open, waiting eagerly like the diligent student she is.

You grip your cock with one hand, still throbbing, and bring it to her lips. With her mouth wide, Nayeon wraps her lips around you once more, sucking softly with a gentleness that almost belies the fevered desire etched across her face. You pull out of her mouth, stroking yourself quickly, feeling the pressure mounting further.

Nayeon waits, obedient, with her tongue stretched out, her eyes hungry and fixed on you, knowing exactly the effect that has on you. When the moment hits, the first spurt of cum lands on her warm tongue, and Nayeon doesn’t even blink. She takes it all in with pleasure, as you empty yourself into her mouth, your body shuddering, nearly out of control.

She keeps her mouth open the entire time, her tongue coated in your cum, and when you finally finish, she closes her lips, licking them as the taste spreads. With perfect manners, she shows you her full mouth, eyes full of playful mischief, and then, without breaking eye contact, she swallows it all in one gulp, her throat moving slowly.

“See?” she says with a satisfied smile, as if she’d just passed a test with flying colors. “I swallowed it all without spilling a drop.”

But, of course, Nayeon, ever the overachiever, wasn’t finished. Before you can catch your breath, she leans in again, taking your sensitive cock into her mouth, sucking with an intensity that makes you moan involuntarily. The jolt of pleasure is so sharp that you try to pull away, your body trembling, but she holds you firmly, her mouth working at a pace that borders on cruel.

“Fuck!... I can’t take any more!” you try to protest, your voice breaking, but Nayeon just hums in response, pulling you out only long enough to say, “Not yet,” before closing her lips around you again, sucking you until, finally, she decides she’s satisfied.

When she releases you, you’re left gasping, almost paralyzed from the intensity of it all. Nayeon smiles sweetly, victorious, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers before saying with calm satisfaction, “Mmm, Now that was delicious.”

—

As you desperately gulp water from your bottle, the silence that follows your impromptu "study session" lingers heavily in the air, a strange return to reality. Nayeon had stood up, her hair still slightly messy and a small smile playing on her lips, before heading to the bathroom. She walked with the confidence of someone who had just solved a particularly tricky math problem.

And now you're here, staring at the bathroom door, listening to the sound of water as she washes her face and cleans her glasses, removing any trace of... well, *you*. Then, because life loves to remind you that nothing is ever simple, your mind starts to wander. What, exactly, just happened? Oh, right. You were working on a project. A project that, incidentally, hasn’t moved an inch forward.

Nayeon steps out of the bathroom, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor, dressing herself piece by piece, taking her time, like you were a couple with decades of shared intimacy. She finishes by adjusting her glasses, almost like she’s putting a crown back on after a victorious battle. She sits back down in her chair, opens the laptop as if nothing had happened, and lets out a satisfied but determined sigh.

“Alright,” she says, as if she hadn’t just left you weak-kneed. “Let’s get back to the project.”

You stare at her, incredulous. As if it were possible to get back to the project after that.

And then you realize you’re still naked. You quickly slip on your boxers and pants.

“To be honest, I don’t think I can focus on my part right now,” you admit, your voice still a bit hoarse.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” She smiles that smile—a mix of mischief and... surprisingly efficient academic prowess. “As long as you keep fucking me, of course. I have to be rewarded somehow.”

You’re speechless for a moment, because, well... you don’t exactly have a counterargument. In fact, it seems like the best deal you’ve ever made in your life.

“Deal,” you say, trying to sound cool, as if you weren’t absolutely thrilled by the arrangement.

Inside, though, you’re jumping for joy.

She adjusts her glasses, watching you for a moment, and you notice that glint in her eyes—a mix of ego, intelligence, and... something else that makes your heart race. Or maybe it’s just the recent sex.

Hard to say.

“But,” she cuts through your thoughts with a serious tone, “no one can know about this. We have to meet in secret. No telling anyone.”

“I swear I won’t tell.”

You wonder how you ended up in this situation, but the answer seems obvious. Who in their right mind would turn down a request like that?

She smiles, satisfied, and turns her attention back to the laptop, as if everything were perfectly resolved.

“Besides,” Nayeon adds, without looking up, “if you need help with any other subject, you can count on me. After all, I think we work well together, don’t we?”

You just nod, but there’s something about her—something between the proud nerd and the bold confidence—that drives you wild. Wild with desire, of course, but also something deeper. And as you watch her, so focused, adjusting her glasses like she’s planning the next phase of a secret mission, you realize that you’re falling for the class nerd.

Yes, she’s hot. Yes, she has a way of disarming you at every turn.

But it’s more than that. It’s as if every time she looks at you with that “know-it-all” air or talks about a complicated academic concept, your mind equates it with something incredibly sexy. And suddenly, your love life has turned into an equation you can’t—and don’t want to—solve.

And, of course, the fact that she’s amazing in bed doesn’t hurt, either.

“Should we meet tomorrow?” you ask casually.

Nayeon doesn’t even look up, just gives a small “mm-hmm” of confirmation, her fingers still typing away.

“Your place again. Same time. Clean up your room... And answer the door in your boxers.”

She glances at you slightly, smiling, and you know exactly what that smile means. And, well, you’re not in any position to complain. In fact, if studying had always been like this, maybe you'd have been the best student in class.

—

As you walk Nayeon to the door, you can’t help but think that maybe you’ve uncovered the true secret to academic success. And who would have thought it was a sexy nerd with glasses who secretly turned out to be a naughty girl who liked sneaking off for sex?

As she leaves, you can’t help but smile when your eyes meet one last time. Not just because of the deal you’ve just made, but because, for the first time in a long while, you’re genuinely excited to "study" with someone. Suddenly, the academic world seems a lot more interesting.

You close the door, but something lingers in the air. Maybe it’s the smell of your sweat—you still haven’t showered, after all. Maybe it’s the trace of Nayeon’s perfume. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of one of the most unexpectedly erotic adventures of your life.

-----------

A/n: Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors, English is not my first language. Thanks for reading.

[herecomesjoon]

Swipe Right

Pairing Yoongi x Reader Rating 13+ Genre/Tropes Fluff, non-idol!AU Warnings Dating apps and Min Yoongi’s Hands and fluffy hair WC 947 Crosspost AO3 - herecomessatvrn Summary You went along with it just to make your sister happy, but you accidentally made a friend when you matched with someone living in your city. AN Another drabble for sprints on my network @bangtan-oasis​. Min Yoongi is coming for that top spot on my bias line with his recent pictures. I can't get him outta my head.

Unbetad and unedited.

Master List | Tag List Form* *No emails are collected

It had been a couple of months already, since you had connected to him on that app. When your sister had jokingly made an account for you, you rolled your eyes. Complaining that a good and real relationship couldn’t come out of those stupid hookup apps. 

You ate your words soon when his first message popped up. 

You couldn’t remember when you had clicked that little thumbs up on this guy. AgustD, whatever the fuck that meant, seemed interesting enough. A picture of long fingers strumming at a guitar. A picture of him in profile, playing the piano as he looked out of a clear window. The skyline of the city was barely visible, but it seemed familiar. 

He intrigued you because he didn’t seem to be the sort of person who wanted a one night hookup, or even a regular booty call. He proved your right when he messaged you first. 

AgustD: Not really looking for a hookup.

You blinked at your screen, biting your bottom lip, wondering what you should say. 

Y/N: Me neither. My sister put the app on my phone.

Y/N: I just scroll through for the hell of it. Is that weird?

It took a little while for him to respond. You had set your phone down as you went through your night time routine. When you looked back before turning off your bedside light, he had responded. 

AgustD: Not weird. What is weird is that someone also put this app on my phone for me. Might as well use it for friends, if that’s the thing you’re looking for. 

Your lips twitched up into a little smile. That’s how this all began. 

Now it was months later, and you hadn’t looked at that app since. You and AgustD had exchanged numbers. He didn’t know your name, and you didn’t know his. All that you knew was that he worked in music, and he lived in your city. You could have lived in the same building, for all you knew. Though you doubted it since he seemed to be in the comfort of his own home when he sent you the video of him playing the piano with his eyes closed, and the lights dimmed low. 

You were strangers, yet he was a friend now. You confided in him. Telling him about your stressful days. The bright moments when you walked home, feet kicking through crunchy leaves as autumn grew colder and colder. 

Y/N: You would think that they would clear the leaves off the walking paths. Can’t say I’m too upset with it though. 

You sent a picture with the top of your beanie covered head just clipping into the bottom of the frame, and bright light filtered through deep red leaves of the tree above you. In the background, a hint of some of the large sculptures that were dotted along the path of your favorite park. 

And a video followed, capturing the color of the trees as they shed their leaves and then your boots shuffling through windswept piles.

AgustD: I picked the wrong day to take a walk. I was there yesterday. It was dreary and raining. 

AgustD: Also you weren't there. 

Why were you suddenly dizzy? The rush of blood was loud in your ears and your cheeks grew warmer. 

AugustD: Why haven’t we met yet? 

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to reply. You wanted too. You wished for it with all your heart. Why had this man you started talking to randomly suddenly become someone you wanted to spend all your free time with? 

Y/N: We could change that…

Y/N: I’m still here at the park. I’ll wait for you. 

Three little dots popped up. He was typing a reply. Then it disappeared, and reappeared again. For several minutes that happened. Until it had stopped. 

Your heart sank, and you found the nearest bench. You should go. He clearly didn’t actually want to meet you. No, that would have been too much to hope for. 

You lost track of the time as you scrolled through your past chats. Looking at the pictures you had sent back and forth. You wondered what he would be like in person. Would he be tall? What did his voice sound like? You thought it would be gentle and warm. Like a summer breeze. Would his hand fit perfectly in yours? And you wondered what it would be like to be held by him. 

People passed you by as they continued their journey through the park. All the while, still no response. You sighed heavily and looked down the path from the direction you came. You should just go home. You could curl up in your blankets and let your heart ache in privacy while you mourned what never was. 

The shuffle of footsteps had been steady, but the crunch of boots in the crisp leaves was loud and then it stopped suddenly. Your attention turned to the person standing in front of you. 

He wasn’t as tall as you had expected, but from your spot on the bench, he towered over you, lit from behind. His soft long hair was tousled by the wind, brushing his face as it danced and moved. 

“You’re still here.” His voice was not what you had expected either, but it was so much better. 

He held his hand out to you. Fingers that you had seen so many times, and wished that you could lace them with your own. You stood and looked at him curiously till you smiled and reached your hand out for his. 

“Hi,” you breathed a happy sigh. “I’m still here.”

AN Thank you so much for reading! Comments and feedback mean the world to me! Come say hello to me, my ask box is always open! <3

[yellowcry]

A rhythm of its own design

Working on Casita was important, of course, but it's good to have some entertaintment once in a while

Dolores looked around the church backroom room, nervous. Recently her Papá asked her to come here for something. He didn't reveal what was the reason, not yet, just shared a strange look with Tío Agústin. If Dolores still had her gift, maybe she would hear what was going on. But alas, now their gifts weren't in play. Cold-stoned walls towered over her,  old  musical instruments that were used for religious performances were well-known to Dolores. After all, she had spent a couple of years playing music here back when she was in school.

She slid her fingers across the piano keys, waiting for the adults to make things clear. It wasn't as clean as with super hearing, but the sound was soothing in a way. While piano wasn't her main instrument, she preferred tiple like her dad, she had enough knowledge of the keyboard instruments. 

The door creaked, making Dolores squeak and pull back a little. Only to realize that it was Mirabel. The younger cousin didn't look anything more confident than Dolores was feeling herself at the moment. If anything, she seemed even more confused and worried.

The teenager pulled in, examining the notes on the walls. "Do you know what's going on? Pa asked me to come here." She clarified, standing next to Dolores and picking at her embroidery.

Dolores clenched her palms together, not looking at her. Before Casita's fall, she had never realized how important her gift was for her. It made her aware of everything, every rumor or fact. And Dolores had adored that power, she loved the knowledge that came with hearing without her being anywhere near the discourse. The idea of losing this possibility, these thin threads that connected her to everything was devastating. There was no way to know much more anything else than what anyone in her place would hear too. 

Losing her gift had  really  made Dolores appreciate it with all of her heart.

Their dads didn't take much longer to join in. Both were delighted, whispering something to each other. It was a normal sight, the two giftless husbands were so close that people sometimes doubted if they were biological  hermanos . 

Mirabel, who was just as curious as Dolores herself immediately got to question the situation. "Papa? What are we doing?"

Félix winked to Agústin, taking a seat. "Girls, I and Gus had thought that we should entertain our family in this uneasy time."

Dolores couldn't blame them. Even if the things had gotten way clearer now it didn't mean they were solved. The family got used to a life without a house by now, but Dolores still wished to have a stable place to live. Everyone did and there was no need  in  enhance hearing to know it.

Papá continued, taking a tilpe near his chair. "So how about we four give them a concert?"

So that's what it all was about? 

It's been a while since Dolores had played with Félix. Life was too busy lately, turned upside down by the broken Casita. She didn't  really  have time for this lately, more busy with the fact that they were homeless at the moment. It's a bit hard to get to your hobbies in such conditions.

Mirabel's face winced, she crossed her arms looking away. "I don't think I want this..." Dolores knew that her youngest cousin hated showing her skills in accordion, always trying to throw it away if somebody had given her one. Was it a feeling that her skills didn't matter without a gift or something else, Dolores had no idea.

"Miraboo, it's only for the family," Agústin promised. "Nobody else would see you." 

There was a visible fight on her face. Again, Mirabel didn't enjoy showing musical skills to everyone, but she loved her family and wanted to make them happy more than anything.

Finally, she muttered. "Just... A little.."

Felíx smiled, turning his attention to Dolores. She just shrugged, having nothing against the idea. She had played music from time to time, tho it was usually only during the celebrations when anybody else could hear her.

The first thing was to find a good melody that combined all their instruments. Well, it was more the adults who initiated this, talking about some happy and light melody to cheer the rest of the family. Mirabel tapped her finger against the hand belt, not participating at all, despite their effort to bring her into  discussion .

It's been forever since Dolores had played music with her Tío, not even mentioning Mirabel. What would it be like? Speaking at the bottom of her heart, she preferred to play harmony solo. But it could be fun when her dad joined her. 

"Okay! One, two, three!" Felix, sending their small group into the beginning. For about ten seconds before they all realized how awful it sounded. Playing in  discord , they didn't synchronize with each other. 

"I think... it's going to be more difficult than we thought." Tío muttered, pressing one of the white high-pitched keys.  

Fair. Making anyone listen to these wouldn't make them happy. It was more of a torture. Creating music took work that they were willing to put in. It wasn't a physical job like with Casita but  requested  enough exertion and time.

Mirabel pondered something, the smart girl she was. "Maybe we can... play it separately at first?" She suggested, fixing her glasses. And, well, having no better ideas, they recreated the vallenato melody four times, suggesting to  eachother  how to make it work together. Tuning one down,  pitching  the other note up so it would sound graceful and happy.

The orchestra still was bad, but it was more of a lack of practice this time. Well, it was something fixable. Hard work did pay in the result after all.

Dolores examined her partners in the corner of her eyes. Papá and Tío Agústin loomed like they generally had a really fun time in here. Even Mirabel who was the least happy with the idea at first seemed to be involved in the process pretty strong. 

They were practicing for about a week. Majorly during the lunch break or after the working day  in  rebuilding Casita was done despite Luisa's complaint that she wanted to cuddle her hermanita. 

The backroom wasn't big, but it somehow could accommodate twelve Madrigals. Despite their original plan for a surprise, somebody in this choir couldn't keep their mouths shut in front of their wives. And if Tía Julieta was mature enough to keep her mouth shut, then Mamá was just as much of a gossiper as Dolores. So the fact was known by the whole family in no time. 

Dolores rounded her eyes, seeing how much Mirabel trembled.  He  youngest cousin wiped her hands, they were sweating whenever she was worried like now. A family genetic, Dolores supposed, Luisa and Tío had the same problem.

"Is everyone ready?" Dad asked, holding his stringed instrument lightly, his optimism made him deal with it the easiest out of four. Agustín stretched his arms, cracking his fingers. Mirabel tensed, pulling her accordion closer. Dolores shut her eyes tightly for a second, retelling herself the melody she was supposed to play.

She knew it wasn't perfect, a week wasn't enough to create a melody, especially when they didn't have more than two hours of training daily. But, seeing her family's excited faces, they didn't need it to be the best. It just was a fun way to spend time together. And they enjoyed the effort that the four had put  in  this. 

The room burst into applause, Dolores and the adults shared a confident and happy look before she noticed how tensed Mirabel was. She was the least used to it. If the older three had played for other people sometimes, Mirabel had never done it before. 

"You're okay," Dolores whispered, patting her spine for a moment before Luisa practically shoved her away, picking Mirabel up and throwing her lightly. Dolores huffed and rolled her eyes, stepping back from her cousins.

Isabela behind her groaned. "Put her down, I want to hug my sister too!" She stood on her toes, trying to reach her overgrown sister's height. Looking like she was about to hit Luisa.

Dolores chuckled, distracting to her  own  brothers. Antonio looked at her with big brown eyes, asking if she could teach him. As a kid, he was  really  excited to learn something new.

"Mirabel is my favorite sister. Go hug yours."

"Amor, you were so magical!" Pepa hunched over Felix, kissing him in a hug. Then she turned her attention to Dolores. "And Lolita!" The woman felt her cheeks getting red from embarrassment. Lolita? Really? "I'm so proud of you!" She exclaimed, giving the next kiss to her daughter.

"¡Mamá, Detener!" Dolores groaned, pulling away from this affection. She was twenty-one for God's sake! Completely old and mature woman! 

[bvannn]

Weekly Update February 9, 2024

The sick has returned. I took my medicine for it this morning but so far it doesn’t seem like it’s gone away, but admittedly my symptoms today could be the result of me having a bad day and it being cold outside, and not necessarily the sick. That’s also why I’m posting this update earlier than usual. If it persists tomorrow I’ll know it’s more surgery side effects, and maybe I’ll message my doctor if it stays throughout the week again. Last week went pretty well so I want to assume this week being messed up was just a fluke. I still got some stuff done, though.

I got a bunch of drawings done, most of them epithet erased and fanart rather than OCs but that’s fine. Fwiw I did get a few more comic pages done, though not one a day like I was hoping. I’ll try another tonight, maybe more if I’m in a good mood. I’m also starting to listen to more music, which should hopefully get inspiration flowing a bit better so I can do more OC art as well.

I still got an animation shaped void I need to fill but haven’t figured out what to do yet. I’d like to try something to music but I gotta get a song done first. So I’ve been trying to work on music but I’ve been so scatterbrained that it’s a bit hard. I’m hoping this weekend I’ll have time, but good chance I’ll try to spend it keeping my mood high instead. I guess I could do some OC animation tests, figure out how clip studio animation works too. Maybe.

Music: been toying with some slow ambient instrumental stuff, and that bigger edm one with the piano I posted a sample of a while ago. Turns out EDM is super easy, so if I can find reasons to keep doing it I will, although admittedly I’m not as big on it as I am on other genres. I’m close to done on that EDM one, partially because it’s supposed to be kinda short. I haven’t touched lyric stuff, I might have to soon though since my congenial medical bs is flaring up again too, and lyrics are luckily something I can do while bedridden. Idk I like how the instrumental is going.

I redid that melody I posted the other day for the ambient track, admittedly didn’t change much but I swapped the third measure out, dropped a few notes, and actually tried it on a lower bpm and with some reverb because I forgot to do that for the samples I posted (whoops), and it sounds fine. I need some other parts for that one still, maybe I’ll use placeholders and just figure out the rest of the instrumentation bc I got that half finished.

Haven’t touched vocaloid again yet. Maybe I’ll make some quick demos so I can understand how tuning works. I’ll probably pick a memey or old song and if I make anything presentable I’ll post it.

Been looking for more VSTs too, I compare it to looking for new brushes whenever you’re dissatisfied with your art. Vital has been good for EDM, basically fixed all my problems for me, again. Also started messing with decentsampler again and it’s probably going to fix my problems when I’m working on that ambient track.

I think this weekend and next week I’ll aim to get some time with the big fancy keyboard and just unload a bunch of recording at once. Force myself to finish shit. Tonight I’d like to as well, but that depends on how bad my homework ends up. And if I get flare ups again. I’m still working on dealing with that condition but I need two or three more surgeries before it’s really going to be gone. And I have to wait for those. I’m not worried about money for now since I’m pretty sure I can get a decent job after I graduate (and at a minimum I can go back to the job I had last summer which I liked and paid pretty well). Right now I don’t have a source of income but I think I’ll be fine, I just need to not spend money, which I’m pretty good at. Next week I’ll focus on music stuff first, throw in some drawings if I can, and keep at those comic thumbnails. Once those are done I’ll start on pages.

[unlockthestars]

Emotional Intimacy & Pillow Talk // Accepting

@hopeandharmonizing asked: ❝ we really should have done that sooner, huh? ❞ (dealer's choice, doesn't have to be referring to lewd!)

It had been a long time since Aster had sung for anyone else, and an even longer time since he'd played the piano. But once Briar had found out that he'd considered being a musician, once upon a time, even though he'd ended up pursuing other avenues, she'd been encouraging him to sing for her.

They'd been spending some time together, ever since his first foray into her space, where she'd managed to pull him out of his own melancholy and almost effortlessly into her performance. It had been easy to talk to her, and he very much enjoyed getting to know her.

Which meant that, the next time they met up, before the club was really open, just the two of them and a couple of employees getting the place ready, he decided that he was going to sing for her. It wasn't anything special, not as far as he was concerned; just a little something he'd written a long time ago, when he'd still been young, had thought that love was easy. Aster loved people so quickly and it had backfired on him so much over the years that it was probably one of the reasons he'd stopped doing much with music. If he focused on helping other people, on being professional, then there wasn't time to worry about much of anything else.

He sat down at the piano, playing a few chords, remembering the feeling of the keys, even as his tail swept gently behind him, curling one way and then the other.

Aster took a deep breath and let it out slowly, starting into the intro of the song, letting the sound of the piano and the memory of the music wash over him, getting lost into it.

"In every heart, there is a room A sanctuary safe and strong To heal the wounds from lovers past Until a new one comes along

I spoke to you in cautious tones You answered me with no pretense And still I feel I said too much… My silence is my self-defense"

His voice had started out almost tentative, as though he was remembering how to sing after a long time…., which wasn't that far off. But he continued, his voice got stronger, more sure, until he was pouring himself into the song, his voice stronger or softer when the music called for it.

"And every time I held a rose It seems I only felt the thorns and so it goes, and so it goes and so will you soon I suppose

But if my silence made you leave Then that would be my worst mistake So I will share this room with you And you can have this heart to break"

He's focused on the keyboard in front of him, of making sure his chords are right, that the music supports his voice.

And as he keeps playing, as he sings, even though she doesn't know the words, he hears Briar jump in, adding harmony to his voice. He smiles up at her, their voices blending, rising and falling, until he plays the final chord. And for a long moment, he doesn't move, just lets the chord fade away, lets the sound resolve into silence.

"We really should have done that sooner, huh?" Briar asked, and Aster couldn't help the soft laugh that left him, even as a slight flush coloured his cheeks.

"You're right," he murmured, offering her a smile. "It had just….been a while. I'd forgotten how much I loved it." He'd always loved music, but making it was something entirely different. Maybe he'd get back to making more…., and maybe he'd even share it again.

[makarovni]

WIP Wednesday!!!

Tagged by @adelaidedrubman to share some shit I've been working on. Right now I'm really trying to finish this one, the first Nonia and Kent thing I'm writing!! I'm also having a lot of fun with it, and writing the Veep characters is really fun. I debated sharing part of Got You Where I Want You chapter 2, but decided I liked this better bc you guys are getting this finished product sooner than GYWIWY since it's not even halfway done.

"So…" Nonia said on an exhale, still shivering just a bit from the winter air, "everyone's off doing their own thing. What should we do?"

Kent looked around, squinting at his surroundings as he so often did. "I was assuming we'd just go up to the room and continue working."

Nonia looked a bit annoyed by this. "Oh, c'mon, there's more to do in this hotel than just work in the room. Look, there's an area to watch TV, a seating area by the fire, a bar, a restaurant…there's gotta be something else we can do besides work."

He sighed and nodded, leaving his head bent down for a moment. "I'll admit, I am kind of hungry. We could go eat. But after that, it's right to work."

"Hey, if it gets you to have at least a little bit of fun, we'll go eat," Nonia replied, getting a head start in front of Kent walking to the restaurant. 

Kent caught up in only a second, due to the height difference between the two, and the fact that Nonia took two steps for every one step he took. Upon arriving at the entrance to the hotel's restaurant, they noticed a line and a busy hostess trying to tend to it. 

"Looks like they're busy," Kent observed. "You know I don't like waiting. We should head up and–"

A gloved fingertip pressed into Kent's lips as he spoke, and Nonia looked up at him with a look that he knew would lead to her trying to boss him around.

"Do not say work, Mr Davison, or I will throw my laptop in the fireplace," Nonia said playfully, taking her finger away from his face right after. "We can wait. It's only a small line."

Kent groaned in annoyance and threw his head back, knowing that Nonia wasn't going to budge on this one. 

"Fine. Let's go wait in the seating area, I don't like standing in lines that aren't necessary for my job."

Nonia patted him on the back as they walked over to the seating area. "I know you don't, Kenny. I know."

Kent glared at her for a moment, since she'd used that annoying nickname, but the pair went to sit down on one of the loveseats in front of the fireplace. As they did, Nonia noticed something that made her eyes light up. 

"Hey, look," she said excitedly, pulling Kent over with her to look at that very thing– a baby grand piano. A sleek ebony body with keys so clean it seemed no one had ever played. "You should play a song."

Kent scoffed at her as if she'd suggested something ridiculous. "I don't play piano, Nonia. How can I play a song if I don't know how?"

Nonia sat on the bench and looked up at him through flirtatious, long lashes. "I know for a fact that you play piano, Mr Davison. From one musician to another, I see the way your fingers work on a computer keyboard. They work the same on an instrument. I can tell. Plus, you told me one time that you play."

He began getting flustered, and squinted at her. "I never told you that. I would remember if I told you that."

Nonia shrugged and grabbed the lapels of his coat. "Then I guess your memory isn't as good as you think, Mr Robot. You did tell me. So show me."

As she said this, Nonia pulled him to her level so he would sit. Kent sat down beside Nonia on the bench and sighed as he took off his coat and gloves, leaving his top half in a dark brown blazer above a cream button down with a gold and red striped tie. Nonia liked these colors on him.

"I cannot believe I'm doing this…" He muttered, stretching his hands and then ghosting his fingers over the keys to practice a scale. 

Nonia looked over at him in pure admiration, beaming at him and knowing he was going to impress her. But Kent shocked her out of this trance when he said, 

"If I'm going to play, then I want you to sing. Do not try to tell me you can't, because I know you can." He said the last part almost in a mocking tone.

Scoffing, Nonia shrugged out of her own coat and pulled off her gloves, placing them over Kent's on the bench. Beneath, she was wearing a ribbed turtleneck dress in a beige color, with dark but sheer pantyhose and a pair of plain dark brown heeled boots, knee high. Understated, but sexy in a way.

"Fine by me," Nonia replied, leaning on the side of the piano. "Go ahead, play me a song, piano man."

[adoracora-elizabeth]

Music Made Me Love you, chapter 6

"We cannot postpone the deadline again. You need to produce something, or we cannot work together anymore." Cora's publisher sounded harsh, but she did understand where he was coming from. He needed her book to sell, and she was not producing anything. It had now been weeks since she last heard that piano player and her brain did not want to produce any words. She tried but failed miserably. What if the person had moved? How would she ever find her muse again. It did also not help that she had not seen Robert, for the same amount of time.

"I will make sure to have it ready next month. I promise." Cora heard herself say those words, but she knew they were empty promises. How was she going to produce those last chapters? She needed to find a solution, really quick.

"Do not let us down." The dial tone sounded before Cora could answer. She sighed and sat down on the sofa. As it did for the entire last week, her notebook was smirking at her. Maybe she should start by digitalising what she already wrote. It could help, get back into the writing process. She opened her laptop and started typing.

She was thankful her mother had told her to take typing lessons, now she was able to use the keyboard with ten fingers and without looking at it. It saved her a lot of time. There was not much her mother had told her to do, but this was one of those rare ones. She loved her mother, but the relationship had always been strange. She was much closer to her father. Or at least she had been closer to him. She still felt the pain in her heart thinking of that day.

He had been out golfing with some of his friends. They normally took a golf buggy to go around the course. But one of his friends had said that the weather was nice enough to walk that day. So, they all went on foot. Cora wished her father had been lazy that day and had taken the cart. But he did not, true to his nature he was the first one to be enthusiastic. They had walked several holes, and when they decided that it was time for a beer, it had gone terribly wrong.

Another player that was out on the course, was new to the game. He was good at smashing the little ball far, but aiming was not his strong suit yet. Isidor had been at the wrong time at the wrong place.

The ball was hit hard and flew over the course. But instead of going in the direction of the hole. It flew directly at their group. He was hit on his head. According to his friends, he had dropped to the floor immediately and there was nothing they could do.

Later with his autopsy, they found that the artery that lay directly under his temple had burst. It meant an instant death or at least one from which he did not suffer. That was the only consolation she had; he had not suffered.

She shook her head and looked at her screen again. She had still a lot of work to do, she loved writing in the old-fashioned way. With pen and paper, but it did give her extra work. That extra work was a good distraction, otherwise she would start panicking. She needed to find another way to get inspiration.

+++

Robert pushed his father inside. He had been in the hospital for a long time, but finally he was allowed to go home. They hired a private nurse, and with that condition, they finally agreed to let him go. Patrick could still not use his left arm or leg and his speech was still slurred. But as Robert had expected, he was working hard and very determent to get as much function back as was possible. "Welcome home, Papa."

"This is not my home son, and you know that." said Patrick gruffly.

Robert knew that he only saw Downton as his home. "Your home away from home." He tried.

Patrick shrugged his shoulder. It was a weird sight, seeing one shoulder moving and the other one staying motionless.

"Can you bring your father to the living room please. We do not have to stand in the hallway, do we?" Violet's voice snarled in his ear.

Robert walked further on; his parents were staying in their London home for the time being. In the end it was best that they had opened their London home and were not staying in Robert's apartment. He would not like living with his parents again. Especially not with his father being this depending on them. Violet would probably get very cranky, and he could only imagine the frustration his father felt.

"You will be alright then?" Robert looked at his father, he had wheeled him close to the fireplace. Since his stroke he was constantly cold.

"What do you mean?" Violet sat down on the sofa. "Are you leaving?"

"Well, yes. What can I do here?"

"Your father needs to explain you everything about the business. You need to step up now, the time of being lazy is behind you."

"Dear, we cannot state that Robert is lazy. He never has been."

Robert gave his father a thankful look. It was indeed not something they could say, he had never slacked off at work. "Mama, I know I have to take over fully from now on."

"For the time being." Patrick added.

"For the time being, sorry Papa. But Papa is not even home for one hour, I want him to take it slow these days. I will do whatever I can without his information already. And then in a couple of day, Papa and I will sit down to see what I can do."

"Dear, you know Robert is right. I am, to be honest, too exhausted to think about work. I would love to go to the bedroom and sleep."

"I will ask the maid to prepare your bedroom right away."

"The bedroom is already ready, Milady." Maud's voice sounded from the door.

"Good." Violet looked at Robert. "Are you going to help your father to the bedroom, or is that also too much to ask?"

Robert ignored her words and pushed his father into his bedroom. He could not understand how they could be married, but never slept in the same room. How did Rosamund and he came along. Deep down, he knew exactly how it worked. His mother was old fashioned, and she did not allow his father to sleep in her bedroom. From time to time, he was allowed to have fun with her, but that was it. He could not imagine that those things were still happening in these modern times. He shivered; he did not want to think about his parents doing those things.

"Papa, I will be back in two days. Please take the rest you need. I am taking care of the business for now and we will not make any major decisions."

"That is alright son. Thank you."

+++

Annoyed Robert stepped inside his apartment in Westminster. He wished he could go back to Richmond; he missed his small house there. The garden, his piano but most of all he missed bumping into Cora. It had been weeks and he felt foolish for asking her number. He was intrigued by her and just wanted to know more. But with his father's situation, it all got complicated.

He walked to his kitchen to get some water when he made a decision. He was going to Richmond tonight; he would just stay the night and go back tomorrow morning.

He called for a cab and took only a small bag with him. He had clean clothes left at his house, so he did not need much.

Relieved he opened the door to his house and walked straight over to his piano. He caressed the instrument before sitting down. He tossed his bag into a corner and his fingers went to the black and white keys.

Cora popped up in his mind and he started playing. His music turned into a melodramatic song, which brought tears to his own eyes.

He did not stop for several hours, and when he finally looked up and noticed that it was three in the morning, he realised that he had not closed his window. Slightly ashamed he walked over and closed the window. Murmuring an apology to his neighbours.

Once more he stroked with his fingers over de piano, one day I will tell Mama about this. One day. He said to himself, before walking into his bedroom.

With a deep sigh, he lay down and stared at the ceiling. He promised himself that he would bury his personal life. But how could he? It was part of him, a big part. He did not feel complete without his piano. And it seemed that he also could not be genuinely happy without seeing Cora. That last part still shocked him. He had seen her twice; how could she have this effect on him? But more importantly, was she feeling the same thing for him? What if he was dreaming of meeting her again, but she was not? He needed to find out what she felt for him, but he was not sure how he was going to do that.

[jonathankatwhatever]

I sat down at the piano, realized I could play without a mediator, that I could think my thoughts into sound through my body in the exact form of connection I’ve been trying to describe, when the piano stopped working. It’s raining outside, so maybe it’s just temporarily shorted out. I’ve paid an interesting penalty learning this degree of touch with a piano that has such heavy action and where touch requires soft pedaling more than it should. I wish I could have been in time for the electric ones with actual piano action. That would have been a luxury. But better too heavy than the non touch of most keyboards.

It’s 30 Apr 2023. As through an hourglass, these are the days of our lives. The only good part of that soap was that line with the picture.

Simple, simple, simple. That makes consistency. Oh, so that’s really neat: I remember this idea coming up not long ago in two guises, one being the inability to recover the full memory of the discussion of consistency, coherence, and persistence, and the other being the realization that as a right-hander I could not repeat the complex movements of something like a golf swing. That now reveals more of itself. I’m trying not to lose the threads; they’re fast moving and all I catch is glimmers under the water.

Complex movements repeating to a lower tolerance because I’m not accurately anchored, meaning I’m anchored at the wrong End, at the wrong End of the 1-0Segment of potential anchoring which relates to the Actuality, which is the first time I’ve used that idea in this way. I’m seeing Actuality as the concept which bridges between the Registry, which we identified specifically only yesterday, Triangular in gs describing events as we know them, events that occur then at ideal level of complete focus, meaning whatever awareness exists is aligned in the correct balancing movement to an End so that End leads to another to another, etc. to form an Actuality. This can occur rapidly or slowly.

This is fascinating. It makes complete sense, of course. By fascinating, I mean that it’s such a simple piece, and it fits the idea which came out yesterday of this being simplified to a tinker-toy model. I can see that in Actuality because we now have the Registry defined as the Triangular which records grid squares. That is why the D7 discussion matters so much: that is the literal proof of a D3 + D4 inherency which directly connects to fCM at the magic CM28 level. I say magic because a simple construction of CM64 is 2*CM28 + CM8, which is also the construction of CM36. Look at CM36, which we’ve defined from the beginning as Not a Thing, compared to the Is of a Thing of CM64. That’s a choice, of course. So, CM28 is the order of the cyclic group, which is appropriate because that is how fCM works: it forms groups which connect. So, if we append CM8, we are appending what meaning? As discussed yesterday, that is the count of gs Irreducible Ends (which connects to the 1Segment count of 16). Adding to that discussion, if you lay out these Ends, then you have the root of a CM64. That means you have CM28 + this root or side.

Since CM64 is 2*CM28 + this side, then you can see a directional existence of a Thing in which you cycle over CM28 in this direction to another, which does the same thing back. That does literally what I’ve been trying to do: it reduces the interpretive area between to the efficient minimum, to a line or side or count which directly connects as opposed to an area. This is more obvious perhaps if you remember these are grid squares so the line is an Extent of grid squares. That means this simplifies to varying levels of continuity.

I need to take a break. This is momentous.

This is literally a manifestation of a Thing having 2 related ‘parts’.

—————

I’m getting this material, but it’s not quite fitting in and I can’t identify the snag. I remember thinking about an n-dimensional ideal, meaning where that generalized into a black hole because that generates a point at infinity which is fully enclosed, meaning that it is not visible in D3-4Space. Or maybe better, it disappears in D4-3Space so it is not visible in D3-4Space. Finally got that out. Took a lot of stretching. I’m able to do more every day. I was way up on my right foot today, so the communication separation (which enables communication ironically) is progressing. The math for that is really compelling now. I did an example on Facebook, which I love because it makes me focus on using simple words, about why lefties are 10%: it enacts L9, which includes within the higher Layers, and it does that because the space is literally the construction of a line to a square to a cube, and thus handedness through that space needs to fit to that dimensional structure. It’s beautiful and truly brilliant.

I’ve reached the stage where I can pretty much phrase this in group terms. I just don’t think in words like torsion, though I actually do it all the time with my body. So maybe I can do that.

Need a break.

[keudjd]

//Instrument talk.

The digital clock sat on a shelf of metal, and its glowing green numbers flashed in the dark, reading at 3:00 AM. Inside the apartment, Olivia slept soundly while Emilio and Francis stood outside on the balcony. It had been a while since the two patrol guards had returned but only a couple minutes ago had the priest come back. Francis leaned on the edge of the balcony, staring up at the dark, cloud filled sky while Emilio awkwardly stood behind him in the doorway. “..I know you’re there, Martin,” spoke the blonde. He listens as Emilio lets out a huff of annoyance before walking up beside him. He turns to face them as they cross their arms and stared at Francis with a disappointed and tired expression. “Don’t you have work tomorrow? What are you doing up so late?” Francis only shrugged in response as he took something out from his pocket and offered it to the other. Emilio stared at the open box in his hand before reluctantly taking a cigarette out of it. “Hey, are priests even allowed to smoke?” he asked while passing Emilio a lighter. Their voice is slightly muffled by the cigarette in their mouth as they answer, “Well, there’s nothing saying that we’re not allowed to so I guess.” They light the cigarette before giving the lighter back to the guard. It’s silent for a while and Francis finds it hard to see the stars behind the smoke that keeps blowing in his direction but he’s pretty sure the both of them are too tired for an argument this late so he just turns his head to look at his.. ex-best friend? roommate? ..whatever the hell they were to him. The dim light from the cigarette is close enough to light up a small portion of the priest’s face, and Francis takes notice of two scars he hadn’t seen before. “Hey ‘Milio?” Tiredly, the other slowly turns their head to face Francis, humming out a questioning tune. “When did you have those scars..?” Emilio’s face visibly sours and they mumble out a, “I don’t want to talk about it.” Francis sighs apologetically and nods before asking something else. “So uhm.. What job do you think you would’ve gotten if you never became a priest?” There’s a long pause as Emilio drags the cigarette out of their mouth before answering. “Probably some part of a band or something. Maybe even an orchestra if I was lucky.” Hearing this, Francis’ eyes lit up. “You play an instrument? What do you play?” he quickly asked. Emilio quietly chuckled at his reaction. “Yea, I can play a bunch of instruments, actually.” Francis stared expectantly as Emilio put out the cigarette before tossing somewhere below them. “I can play piano, acoustic and electric guitar, bass, pipe organs, drums, violin and uhh... kazoos. Not proud of that last one really, it got me sent to the padded room multiple times,” they said while rolling their eyes. “Jeez, that’s a lot. Where the fuck did you find that much free time??” Francis said while slightly wincing at the mention of the padded room. “Eh, I was the place’s favorite so they really just let me do anything most of the time.” Francis hums an affirmative tune. “Oh! Also, if you still play, I have a bass and a small drum kit. Olivia also has a keyboard in her room as well,” Francis said with a tired grin, but Emilio only shrugged in response. “I’d rather not. I already have to be part of the choir and play the pipe organs at the church.” Francis sighs disappointingly but it’s not like he could’ve changed their choice in the end. “Well, we should probably both get to bed but the offer will always be there if you ever get bored.” Emilio turned back to look inside and read the clock before nodding. Both of them mumble good-nights to each other before going their separate ways. 

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Our Song- Jasper Badun x OC

Jasper Badun x Angela Young

Description: Angela and Jasper attempt to figure out what their song is. 

Word Count: 2k

“Jasper, what’s our song?” Angela questioned, looking back at him from her place on his bed. The man looked at her curiously from where he sat at his desk, not having expected the question. 

“What do you mean?” The girl rolled over so she could face him comfortably. 

“I mean, what’s our song? Artie said his and Gemma’s song is ‘Sugar, Sugar’ by The Archies, Amethyst said her and Cruella’s song is ‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA, what’s our song?” Jasper hummed thoughtfully then began strumming the guitar that sat on his lap. 

“Well, what do you think it should be?” He inquired. “When you think about us? What song comes to mind?” Angela stayed silent as she thought about his question. 

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted. Jasper shot her a patient smile. 

“How about this, you think it over tonight then come back when you have an answer. I’ll do the same and we’ll see if we think the same thing.” Angela grinned at him. 

“Brilliant suggestion as always, my love,” she responded simply. Jasper chuckled softly and continued strumming peacefully. 

When Angela got home, she made a cup of tea then sat on the couch, deep in thought. There were so many possibilities for what could be their song, but it had to be something special to both of them. She would have to take a trip down memory lane. 

1. Heart of Gold- Neil Young

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” Jasper called from Angela’s bedroom, where he had been getting dressed. He must have noticed the acoustic guitar that sat in the corner of her room. Angela shrugged from where she stood at the stove. 

“I don’t really. My dad used to try to teach me but he was busy a lot. That thing just collects dust now but I don’t want to part with it.” As she spoke, Jasper walked out into the kitchen. 

“I could teach you,” he offered. She glanced at him as she turned the stove off. 

“You don’t have to do that darling,” she brushed off as she grabbed some plates. 

“But I want to.” He walked over and took the plates from her. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” The girl sighed, but finally nodded with a small smile. 

“Alright, when do we start?”

Over the next two months, Jasper taught her how to play. He took his time in teaching her each chord and note, making sure she understood before moving on. Eventually she began learning actual songs. Jasper picked the first one she should learn, “Heart of Gold” by Neil Young. He helped her play it, correcting her if needed (which wasn’t actually a common occurrence), and that had become the first official song she learned how to play. Now, if she had the urge to play her guitar, that was her go-to song every single time. 

The first song she ever learned to play with Jasper’s assistance  was a strong candidate in Angela’s opinion. It was a beautiful song with lyrics that applied to them. It was special to both of them, yet, it still didn’t feel like the one. She’d need to look deeper. 

2. I Wanna Be Your Dog- Artie Katz

Jasper and Angela, being the more musically inclined, had been put in charge to write the song that Artie would sing for their flash mob in Regent’s Park. Upon agreeing to do so, the couple got to work immediately. They went to Angela’s house since they would have more peace and quiet there, and her keyboard was there. 

“Okay, since Cruella wants her Dalmatian piece to be the focal point of the show, maybe we could do something with dogs,” Angela suggested, tapping her pencil against the blank sheet music in front of her. Jasper pursed his lips in thought, then nodded after a minute. 

“Okay,” he responded, beginning to strum a small riff on his guitar before beginning to play an unknown song. The girl listened for a moment, realizing that it was a garage rock/proto-punk type beat, then began adding piano into the mix. Her piano was set to a jazz setting, which added a ragtime sort of tone to the song. 

“Now I wanna be your dog,” she sang out, making sure to add a slight growl to her voice in order to match the music. Jasper looked excited to see her come up with something on the spot and continued to play. 

“And now I wanna be your dog, 

And now I wanna be your dog,

Well, come on,” she drew out the last word, growling at the end of it as they continued to play. The music got louder for a bit, but then Jasper quieted a bit as lyrics came to his mind. 

“And now I'm ready to close my eyes

And now I'm ready to close my mind

And now I'm ready to feel your hand,” he sang before realizing that he had nothing after that. He began internally panicking, but stopped when Angela continued for him. 

“And lose my heart on the burning sands,” she sang before nodding at him, letting him know that they were about to sing the chorus again. 

“And now I wanna be your dog,

And now I wanna be your dog,

And now I wanna be your dog,” Jasper was the only one to extend the last note of that, and Angela smiled brightly as she looked back at her piano. 

“Well come on!” Immediately after singing that, they stopped playing their respective instruments in unison. Both were breathing heavily as the reality of what they’d just created had set in. 

“Jasper! That was so good!” Angela exclaimed excitedly, pulling him into a tight hug. The man couldn’t help but laugh as he nodded with the same enthusiasm. 

“You did amazing on that chorus,” he complimented as they pulled away. “That’s already, like, half the song done.” The girl nodded as she began writing on the sheet music, trying to get it all down before it left her mind. 

“Guess we’re just that good together,” she half joked absentmindedly. Jasper watched her with a small smile. 

“Agreed.”

Angela smiled at the memory, remembering how much fun they had writing that song. It was such a success. “I Wanna Be Your Dog” was also a good contender, it was quite literally their song, they’d written it together after all. Was it good enough though? That depended entirely on what else she could think of. 

3. Call Me Cruella- Angela Young

“Cruella De Vil,” Angela sang quietly as she worked on her latest design in Hell Hall. 

“Cruella De Vil,

She’s born to be bad,

So run for the hills.” Her singing caught the attention of Jasper, who had been sitting in there with her working on something. He looked up as Artie and Horace appeared in the doorway, the three of them listening intently. 

“Who wants to be nice?” The girl continued, putting on a posh voice to sing. 

“Who wants to be tame?

All of your good guys,

They all seem the same,

Original, criminal, dressed to kill,” she walked over to the mannequin to add several accents to her outfit as she sang the last part. 

“Just call me,” she paused to dramatically turn to her friends with a smirk.

“Cruella De Vil,” she concluded, which made Artie laugh. She grinned then began walking around the room swiftly as she gathered more supplies. 

“Call me crazy, call me insane

But you’re stuck in the past,

And I’m ahead of the game.” She sighed theatrically then grinned at Jasper, swaying her hips as she scurried over to them. 

“A life lived in penance,

It just seems a waste.” The stood and held out his hand when she reached them then twirled her with a small laugh. 

“And the devil has much better taste

And I tried to be sweet,” she continued, resting the back of her hand against her forehead melodramatically. 

“I tried to be kind,” she switched hands and closed her eyes. 

“But I feel much better now that I’m

Out of my mind,” she trailed off loudly, falling back and allowing Jasper to catch her. Once she let go of the last note, she stood once more then began walking to the main room casually with all three guys following her. 

“Well there’s always a line at the gates of hell

But I go right to the front ‘cause I dress this wel,” she sang as if she were gossiping. 

“Rip it up, leave it all in tatters

Beauty is the only thing that matters,” she breathed out, moving to the extra supplies then pausing in front of a portrait of the Baroness that they hadn’t taken down yet and pointing at it. “The fabric of your little world is town,” she sang to her before grabbing some thread from a drawer and walking back into the sewing room.

“Embrace the darkness and be reborn,” she concluded before making her voice softer as she grabbed some beads from her desk and began threading them. 

“Cruella De Vil, Cruella De Vil,

The fear on your face,

It gives me a thrill.” She laughed as the three men applauded her. 

“Angela,” Artie exclaimed with a bright smile. “That was amazing!” The girl blushed shyly then shook her head. 

“I agree,” Cruella’s voice came from behind them, which made Angela freeze in place with wide eyes. Her head whipped around as the woman walked over to her, a huge smirk on her face. 

“I’ve heard of villains getting their own song, but I never imagined that I would find mine in the form of you Angie,” she continued teasingly. Jasper couldn’t help but laugh as he followed her. 

“Yeah, sounds like you’ve been working on that one for a while,” he added, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend. “You’ve been writing songs without me?” He pouted, which made her roll her eyes jokingly then gently push him away. 

“I would never,” she responded. The man grinned then kissed the side of her head. 

“Seriously though, you should record that. I could help you with the instrument parts,” he offered, which made her smile. 

“I would love that.” 

That was the first and (so far) only song Jasper and Angela ever recorded. She loved looking back on it. As much as she liked writing and recording it, she didn’t know if it could be their song. She sighed loudly and flopped down on her bed. Now she was left with the same predicament. They were all such good options, but what could possibly be good enough for them? It only took her a few minutes before the answer hit her. 

Their song was not just one song. She shot up as the thought came to her. It’s not just a song. Their song was the laughs that they shared when she messed up a note while she learned how to play guitar. It was the sound of guitar and piano riffs late into the night while they were writing “I Wanna Be Your Dog.” It was Jasper and Angela messing around in the studio while recording “Call Me Cruella,” and it was all the laughter they shared while singing loudly off key just to annoy or distract the other. It was the songs that played in the background while they spent time together and the strumming of Jasper’s guitar when he was bored. It didn’t need to be limited to one song, it didn’t even have to be limited to a song. 

“Did you figure out what our song is?” Jasper asked her the next day, wrapping an arm around her comfortably. Angela couldn’t even begin to attempt to hide her smile as she looked at him. 

“I don’t think we have just one,” she responded simply. The man looked surprised at her answer, but he got over it quickly then nodded with a small smile. 

“I agree.”

[gayerthanevertbh]

criminal.

you met a woman from a penpal website and began to form a relationship with her, until you suddenly got comfortable with her and began to share fantasies that she had also dreamt of.

pairings | prisoner!dark!natasha x fem!reader

warnings | 18+ MINORS DNI! online talking, prisoner!natasha, dirty talking (online), rough sex on the couch, strap-on (used), pet names, dark!natasha, and daddy kink.

word count | 3.5k 

notes | this was anon requested and i hope this satisfies you, nonnon! i’m so sorry if it’s too late :( i am doing my best to get all of your requests. enjoy though!

navigation

When I heard of this website called Pen Pal from my friends, I was sketched up. I wasn’t the type of person who would message someone from the internet–let alone a stranger who could break into your house if they had your address. You can’t trust the internet these days. The only reason why I know this website is because of the lack of relationships that I have never gone through in my life. Although I did have a few crushes, they liked me back, but eventually, it turned into nothing like a cloud of dust. Did I want to be in a relationship? Sure, sometimes.

Okay maybe.

Anyway, I was scanning through the website and saw some of the inmates who seemed desperate as I was. These people, specifically women, wouldn’t pass my age. That didn’t matter though, I’d still like anyone even though they weren’t my age. No one caught my interest, especially with their boring information about themselves. Looking for a babe, I want someone who could send me nudes, if you got tits then ur good. This is the information that I don’t need, they are too forward. If you want to speak eloquently about railing someone, you might as well do it in the second stage of dating.

Until I see a profile that did catch my interest. Natasha Romanoff, 36 years old. “I like making new friends.”

She’s a real eye-catcher.

And, she’s not your typical American, she looked too European to be American. Perhaps she was Russian and possibly was born from there, unless I may have assumed it in a wrong way. I decided to click on her profile and gave her a small greeting message.

Me: hey! :D

I didn’t wait much for her reply since I had Calculus homework that I had to do, so I grabbed my pencil and went back to studying. It was almost midnight when she replied, and I was tireless when I received her message.

NatsRomanoff: Hey there :) what suddenly brings you here?

What suddenly brings you here, I thought as I read that message. I could say: nothing much, I just want to say you’re really pretty or I want you to lick my neck with your devilish tongue so that I could be compelled to you. Although the second option was too forward, too soon. I decided to type something else.

Me: my friends told me about this website, idk why. i think it’s because they think i’m pretty lonely, plus it’s also fun. as they said.

NatsRomanoff: Hahaha, that seems cute. I hope the people here doesn’t scare you off unless you’re only talking to one person.

Me: i only plan to talk to one person and hopefully that’s you

NatsRomanoff: You must be adorable, what’s your name?

Should I give her a piece of information about myself? Would it be risky enough to say my name and let her rattle all over me? Or would I not let her in and continue on with my basic life? Yes, basic. My life in the outside world isn’t as fun as it seems. I go to school, learn a few things, have my piano lessons, and come back home with a gaunt look on my face that wasn’t too inviting. Go on, tell her! My head won’t stop telling me to do so, my fingers are on the keyboard as I try to think of any other names that I would use.

Me: Y/N. you?

NatsRomanoff: Pretty name :) Natasha, even though you can see that in my bio.

Me: sorry. i was trying to be formal lol

NatsRomanoff: What’s your sexuality? I don’t want to assume that you’re a girl or a boy, or neither.

Me: i’m a girl!

NatsRomanoff: Cute :) so can I call you a pretty girl then?

I try my hardest not to form a smile or a significant sparkling feeling inside of me as I know that I could fall for someone on the internet in less than a month. But heck, I blushed hard.

Me: yes, why not haha

NatsRomanoff: :)) how old are you, pretty girl?

Me: I’m nineteen, almost twenty in two months!

NatsRomanoff: That’s cute, really adorable I’m gonna be honest. You don’t mind talking to someone older, yeah?

I put my laptop away for a short minute and thought long and hard about our age difference. We were seventeen years apart, she’s almost two decades older than me and I have this sort of romanticization of being with older people. They bring so much comfort to you that you ought to believe that they will always protect you and be more mature than you are, so that’s probably the reason why I love being in that type of situation in the first place. Though, I could never be in one. My parents would kill me.

But they aren’t here, so…

Me: not at all. :)

NatsRomanoff: I’d ask if you could send me a photo of you, but you can’t do that here.

Me: Well, when do you get out of prison?

NatsRomanoff: Two years, pretty girl. Why? Care to visit a poor old woman like me? :)

Me: aren’t we friends?

NatsRomanoff: Of course, we are. I’d like to see you someday, hoping you wouldn’t run off.

Me: why would you say that? lol

NatsRomanoff: Aren’t you scared that I’m some old woman who is a prisoner? You don’t know my crimes.

Me: do you want to tell them to me?

NatsRomanoff: I’d keep it a secret for now :) but, I’d like to see you someday. Anyway, I have to go. Can I talk to you again tomorrow? Pretty girl? :(

The real deal question was: why wasn’t I scared? Why was I willing enough to give myself to a prisoner? I wouldn’t know what she has done, I wouldn’t know anything about her. But she seemed so kind enough that she doesn’t give me the peevish and creepy vibes that I’d always feel when it comes to other people–especially her age. I bit my inner cheek and thought about what to type with her calling me a pretty girl. Referring to me as one even though I hardly believe in such a name like that.

Me: of course, tasha! goodnight :)

NatsRomanoff: Goodnight, pretty girl.

                                                           —

The next few days went pretty smoothly and ambling. It felt like I was in this word heaven as I called it whenever I would be talking to Natasha. Perhaps paradise would be a fitting term for our messages. My friends knew about Natasha, they even told me to flirt a little. But I gave them a hint that I wasn’t ready for anything like that, knowing what they were trying to tell me. Natasha knew a few facts about me that I told her a few days ago. And she gave me small pieces of information about her too, which made me admire her more. Before she got arrested, she was working at a bar and would spend her quality time at the library, telling me that she had a spot that is now taken by everyone else. I told her that I also like reading and that’s how we mostly connect; we send each other book recommendations. Apparently, she likes The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, she said the book reminded me of her–even though that was a little confusing on why. I told her about the book called The Price of Salt because of my age difference with Natasha. She said she had read that one, and we both laughed about it.

NatsRomanoff: You seem like such a smart girl for your age :) What school are you going to?

I read her message, again and again, thinking if I should tell her what school I’m attending. My friends told me not to give any information that would lead to my address, but it’s Natasha, right? She wouldn’t hurt me, even though I’d only known her for five days. Plus, she constantly reminds me that I don’t have to say anything that would offend me.

Me: columbia University, i have a scholarship. :)

NatsRomanoff: You must be academically inclined then :) Love smart girls like you.

Me: lol what does that mean?

NatsRomanoff: I’m sure you know what I’m trying to say.

No, I don’t know what she’s trying to imply–does that make me feel stupid?

Me: anyway, i have to do some reading before i go to bed :(

NatsRomanoff: Aw, come on :( I want to talk to you some more, stay here baby.

I almost threw my laptop in the air as I read that word. Baby, I thought with a whimsical smile on my face. She’s getting into me. I imagine her being in my bed right at this moment, her hand on my knee as she tells me so many stories about herself before her life in prison. Touch me, Natasha. Put your hand on my core, massage it and tell me how much I can be yours. Whisper into my ear and tell me that I’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, that you have to eat. That lewd thought quickly went away when I received another message from her.

NatsRomanoff: Can I call you baby?

Me: of course, you can.

NatsRomanoff: Good. I love us being friends, I haven’t talked to anyone like this in such a long time. I understand if you’re tired, I’ll message you soon. Goodnight, baby girl :)

                                                            —

Days have turned into weeks, weeks have turned into months, and I’ve caught myself falling in love with Natasha Romanoff, not knowing her criminal record or her basic life. Just a small fact about herself that she rarely tells me since she stated that she’s more interested in my life than hers. I didn’t mind, it’s not like I could ask her again, but it did get me wondering why on earth she wasn’t telling me in the first place?

I was lying down on my couch with a book sprawled all over my face, just like how I’d be in bed whenever I think about Natasha. We’ve said some dirty text to each other, but not in a way that we tell our fantasies to one another. I like to imagine a lot, it’s like I make them into my own little world and I drag her through it–let her know what I like and don’t like. I’ve never told anyone about my fantasy, nor hers. I guess we were practically the same people.

NatsRomanoff: I have something to tell you, but promise you won’t freak out.

Why would I freak out? Is she going to say something intense that would scare me off? There’s nothing that could scare me off when it’s only from her, or maybe that’s how submissive and giving I am.

Me: shoot.

NatsRomanoff: I have this fantasy of breaking into your house and watching you sleep. If not asleep, then you’d be standing there with a frightened look on your face. I would touch you without your consent and quiet you down since you’re a bad kitty. Is it okay if I say I want to touch you without your permission? How about if I slip my fingers inside of you without your permission? Would you still allow me? Just tell me to back off, I obviously won’t do anything if you say no. Think of it as a kink.

I felt myself beginning to get wet as I read through the whole message from her. She makes my body tremble with the need for her touch, how much I crave for her fingers or her tongue to lather up all over my skin. My face began to heat up like a kettle, my toes were curling against the sheets, and my hands were sweating as well as my forehead. I wanted what she wanted, I fantasized about it long before she did. Unless she has done it first, I wouldn’t really care. The fact that we share the same thought probably meant how much we are connected. I typed fast and sent it, moaning quietly with the raging thought of her breaking into my house with a threatening look on her face.

Me: that’s really hot, tash…

NatsRomanoff: Do you want that to happen, little girl?

Call me that again, call me your little girl, Natasha. I promise that I can be good to you, I’ll suck your thumb for you and kiss your neck, I’ll let you open me up and take me until I’m bursting into tears, you only know how to make my world shatter. You know.

Me: yes.

NatsRomanoff: Call me Daddy, baby.

Me: Daddy.

NatsRomanoff: You love Daddy?

Me: yes.

NatsRomanoff: I have a strap-on in my cell, did you know that? Before you, I’d fuck girls with it. And now whenever I see that toy, I just want to use it on you so badly. I bet your pussy is tight, are you a virgin?

To her disappointment, I wasn’t. I’ve had sex with a girl twice, but it wasn’t as good as I thought it would be. Losing your virginity should be special, and it wasn’t. As much as I want to say it felt nice, it’s not as good as I thought it would be. Or maybe, I was expecting an older person willing to take me instead. Could that be Natasha when she comes out in two years? I can’t wait any longer, I could feel my legs opening up for her.

Me: i’ve had sex before :( is that okay with you?

NatsRomanoff: That’s okay baby. I’m a little disappointed that you’ve had sex, but it’s alright. Promise me no one else will touch your pussy except me. Promise me.

Me: i promise.

NatsRomanoff: I love you, little girl. Can’t wait to see you.

That was her final message before she went offline, and it made my eyes quirk in confusion. Can’t wait to see you. Was there a possible chance that she escaped from prison and broke into my home, fulfilling our fantasies of one another? Couldn’t be true, she wouldn’t do such a thing.

I decided to close my laptop and turned off my lamp, my body shifting against the mattress while I had my legs pressed hard against each other–shamefully trying to get some friction that would make me think of her lewdly once more as my nipples started to perk with the chill thought.

                                                           —

I tried texting Natasha over and over again for a whole week, but she never responded. It took me time to realize that maybe she has met someone else who was willing to give themselves to her, to be much more open when it comes to sex. Was it because I was not a virgin? Did she shame me for that? Or maybe, just maybe, she has escaped prison and is finding my location?

Stupid, stupid thoughts. She wouldn’t know my location, but I’ve given her a hint now since I went to Columbia University. It’s not that I was frightened, maybe a little, but it was because I don’t know anything much about her that she’s capable enough to hurt me.

I tried surpassing the thought and went back home soundly with my keys jangling on my bag, it was attached to the metal zipper. Except that, the door was unlocked, which gave me a thought of someone breaking in. Could it be Natasha? Was she fulfilling the fantasies that we’ve created together? I shook my head and walked to the apartment–getting a different feeling from the atmosphere. Everything seemed normal, perhaps I might’ve forgotten to lock my home. I dropped my schoolbag on the ground and removed my jacket, the hair on my skin getting sensitive because of the cold mystic air from the outside of my window. I turned around and almost stumbled on the couch when suddenly I saw a figure who was standing in front of me, I didn’t know who it was.

“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, stepping away from the redhead woman–who’s honestly very daunting–as I tried to find a piece of glass or any object that would be my self-defense. Instead, she gives me an evil smirk and wraps her free arm around my neck, pulling me close to her until I realize who this person was.

This was, in fact, Natasha Romanoff. She has escaped prison.

I didn’t even give her my address.

“Shh,” she coos over and over again, cupping my face tightly. I do admit I was trying to free myself from her, but she was so strong. “You’re so beautiful in real life, and so tiny. C’mere, don’t be scared. It’s me, Natasha, why are you trying to fret me?”

“L-Let me go!” I said, kicking off my feet.

“Shh, stop baby stop…”

“No!” I screamed kicking my feet again, my hands trying to push her chest. But God forbid, she was undeniably strong. Her arms were wrapped around my torso like it was a life sentence, I kept screaming until I felt her hand smack against my left cheek–making me whimper aloud.

“If you scream again,” she breathes heavily and nips on my earlobe so that I could feel her warm breath–my core is beginning to pool with wetness. “I will cut your tongue out. You better stay fucking quiet.”

She never let go of my body and instead, kissed me hard on the lips. It felt consensual since I let her do it, and I almost melted from the kiss that I wasn’t expecting from her. Her mouth felt warm and cooled my lips, and I realized how we were both famished for our lips to touch. I never thought about it happening this way, though it felt romantic and incredibly arousing as she kisses my lips hard and passionate. I was desperate for her not to pull away, but she did with a pant.

“Gonna fulfill that fantasy we both wanted,” she whispers with a low grunt, pushing me to the couch while unbuckling her belt. “I have my fat cock with me, and I know how much you’re going to like it. So better yet open your legs and show me that pretty pussy of yours.”

I did not waste time removing my pants and snapping my legs together as the air hit my wet cunt. She sees the action and furrows her eyebrows, her hands in between my knees as she pushes them away, departing if you have a deeper term. Her eyes were so dark that you couldn’t see much green in them and her mouth was foaming when my bare cunt was shown, my clit beating hard.

“Gonna give yourself to me, m’kay? Gonna fucking ruin this hole until you’re mine. In fact, I’ll have to hurt you if you disobey me. Might as well break your legs so that you could never run off from me, understood?”

“But–”

A sharp slap made contact with my inner thigh as I gasped out in pain, mostly pleasure. She watches my lips being bitten by me and almost wanted her dildo pressed against my mouth, slithering herself in until she fucks my mouth as if it was the gaping hole of my vagina. I was ready–so ready–to submit myself to her, to make her smack me until I bled. I wanted her to do everything she wanted, let alone if she had to take me in the ass. I stare at her and notice how hungry she was for my pussy, please just fuck me.

She pulls down her pants and I see a dark purple dildo that looked insanely big for my preferred size. I looked at her with horror but she was smiling down at me, meaningless to say I have no way out. She brings the tip to my entrance and thrusts inside of me with one go, my mouth screaming in pain and pleasure. In an instant, my hand was around her neck and I felt her mouth kissing mine again–though this one was a sloppier one.

“Fuck,” she murmurs more to herself, enjoying the sight of her cock fully inside of my cunt. “Look at you, taking a prisoner’s dick. Ya like that, don’t you baby? Want me to fuck you on this couch?”

I nodded.

She snaps her hips into me, making the couch squeak with how forceful it was. I was moaning with each thrust, my chest burning up at how fast the pace was going–I couldn’t take it, she was so big. Yet, I didn’t care. I wanted her to do this to me, I wanted her to take me until I’ve become such a slut for her that everyone would know who I belonged to. She buries her face into the crook of my neck as I hear her let out a whiny moan.

“Oh, baby! Mmph, you fucking feel so good…” she pushes my hair away from my face to take a better look at me, and she chuckles. Fucking chuckles. “You are a slut, aren’t you? Tell me you’re my whore baby, come on–tell Daddy.”

“I-I’m–” my breath hitches as I felt my breasts bouncing up and down with the speed of her shallow thrusts. I’ve grown wetter than I imagined. “I’m your whore, Daddy…”

“Daddy is crazy ‘bout you,” she sniffs into my neck heavily that I practically heard it. “Gonna make this pussy mine. I’ll make sure of it.”

this was insanely hot for me i’m sorry

[bvannn]

Weekly Update February 16, 2024

I’ve been mostly okay this week except Thursday and I also haven’t been sleeping well. I assume I’m basically equilibrated on the medicine I guess thursdays are just gonna suck for a while, oh well. I got stuff done this week. I’m a bit tired from lack of sleep so sorry if I ramble.

Music: today I just went and recorded a bunch of stuff on the fancy practice room pianos with the petals. Not everything I need for current projects but the way I’m looking at it for now: the fancy keyboards have 2 advantages over my Casio: damper petals and dynamics (they have quiet petals too but it doesn’t look like midi files record that). I don’t know how many VSTs I have that even utilize dynamics, I assume most of the pianos do though, and obviously damper petals are important for piano as well to get that extra reverb. But for other instruments, not as important. So I can use my Casio for most of what I do, which is great because I don’t have to walk through a giant snowstorm to get to it. Problem is a couple of the songs I’ve been focusing on have been character themes for OCs, Romeo and Shaun specifically. The two piano players. So the songs use a lot of piano.

As for the songs themselves, I’m making reasonable progress. The main ones I’m working on are (1) character theme for Romeo, ambient, (2) an EDM type vocal song that is basically done except for the lyrics and vocals, (3) a symphonic rock vocal song that is basically done except for the lyrics and vocals (and maybe I might redo a verse melody but that’ll take like, 10 minutes), (4) character theme for Shaun, low priority because I’ve had to basically scrap and redo it from the ground up because it sounded like shit, (5) song of storms medley that I have everything recorded for basically I just need to plan out instruments and get the other parts separated, which really shouldn’t be hard at all idk why I’m procrastinating, and (6) video game retro boss fight style song that I have written down a plan for and have a melody idea in my head but all I’ve actually made so far is a drum and bass line. I got a couple other ideas and Melodies I’m holding onto but I want to finish some of these first. If I get another burst of recording energy I’ll try for that boss fight theme tonight but that’s unlikely. Next steps will probably be finishing up Romeo’s theme by tempo fixing the recordings I did today, and plugging them in to the master edit, if I need to add more instruments I can but I already have like 13 layers in that file (mostly ambiance and percussion) so I’m hoping I can make do with what’s already there. Then next priority should be taking another stab at lyric writing or practicing with vocaloid again.

General drawings, a couple OC drawings done this week, I’d like to do more but I just haven’t had time. Comic thumbnailing is going pretty well though, I’m at 18 pages. I’m aiming for 32 total, but because my initial writeout had me going over, I’ve been trying to keep the page count low here. If it’s too low, I can add back in some more dialogue conversations, since again, more character interactions and ghost exposition would probably be appreciated by readers, but not justified enough to excuse extra pages. But if there’s extra pages, why not add it back in? Well, it might break pacing but as long as I watch that it shouldn’t be a problem. Whatever.

Also been playing a bit with other stories I’ve had as lower priorities. Obviously Backstage is the next most fleshed out story after the O’Malley Foster Home, and I’ve been thinking through plot and character stuff for that, but also some other stories that are so underdeveloped they don’t even have central themes yet. Once I get central themes, they’ll basically write themselves, but until then I need to focus on individual character conflicts until I can find common ground between them, and it becomes the theme. What that culminates to is rotating characters in my head and trying to imagine dynamics with them until eventually something will click. If I get anything I’ll draw it, but I want to try to put more thought into that, since I think some of my insomnia is just me running out of sheep to count, so I need to find more things to ponder, and I think that’ll be a good one.

Still no animation anything but with Romeo’s theme so close to completion I’ll probably throw together a small animation of him playing the piano or something. I don’t mention it much but the majority of the OCs I post are musicians in some capacity. Mikey, Jack, and Thomas are all guitarists, Shaun and Romeo play piano, Emrys is a drummer, and Josh sings. Animating that could be fun, but it’d probably get repetitive after a while. I’m kinda poking at other animation softwares too, since I kinda want to give animating in clip studio another shot, plus I have certain characters meant to be really visually different from others, so I’m considering trying Blender for a cutout style animation or something. Plus the more I think about it, the more certain I am that I’ll have to animate more flowy stuff like long dresses or ghost tails in after effects instead of flash. Annoying but I can learn, I can always learn.

Final tiny note keep getting on and off pushes in motivation for the anime campaign game I’m preparing, still not sure if I’ll try to find players in person only or online or a mix. But I have some art for it on the side I’m working on, as if the epithet 52 isn’t enough epithet erased style art. It’s fine I’ll hopefully take a break and do more OC art again soon.

Next week looks to have a absolute ton of homework so good chance I’ll be unproductive, although every time I say that I find a way so who’s to say. I’m hoping I’ll be okay medically too, since I mostly was this week and today (except this morning when I woke up early from a nightmare, but that was before I took my medicine so it doesn’t count). My bigger condition also flaring up on and off this week too but I’m already doing everything I can about that so it’s fine. I thought last week that a consult for the next surgery got cancelled, but turns out it was a miscommunication and I’m actually still fine, so that’s a relief. This next week I’ll do what I can, hopefully finish a song, and get a couple more drawings done.

[sk3tch404]

Reader who loves to play horror games with Yandere idv boys 💖 ( Puppet Combo Edition )

Note: Omg the ask that @aticklessclock sent me totally motivated me to finish this early! Tysm <3

Not a requested post!

Content warnings: Yandere/obessive and toxic behaviors, profanity, violent games, and mentions of gore

Tell me if I missed anything!

( Characters: Joseph, Antonio and Wu Chang )

Joseph [ The Night Ripper ]

He'd be intrigued, the idea of playing something purely just to instill fear into yourself sounded idiotic and confusing. But since it was you who asked, he'd give it a try.

Joseph: Alright, and what are we supposed to do here?

Reader: When you see a black car pass by, hide, because that's the killers' car. And if you see someone with a duck mask and a long black coat with a black hat, run

Joseph: Oh alright, I think I remember what a car is...

Reader: Okay, go into the crack house

Joseph: Crack house?

Reader: You know, it's in the name, crack cocaine, the drug, and house, put it together and that's where people go have a good time

Joseph: *walks into crack house* Maybe I should go to a crack house with you sometime then :)

Reader: No, Joseph you don't wanna do that, crack cocaine isnt a good thing- OH MY FUCK JOSEPH

Joseph: WHAT- OH FUCK ITS DUCK MASK

Reader: DONT JUST STAND THERE, RUN- HES STABBING YOU RIGHT NOW

Joseph: HOW DO I RUN

Reader: SHIFT ON THE LEFT SIDE OF THE KEYBOARD

Joseph: I CANT SEE ANYTHING ITS BLURRY

Reader: YOU HAVE TO CLICK REALLY FUCKIN FAST, YOUR ADRENALINE IS TOO HIGH

Joseph: *INTESNSE CLICKING NOISES*

Reader: *MC gets stabbed in the eye on screen* Well fuck, we're dead :p

Joseph: WHY WOULD THEY SHOW SUCH A THING

Reader: DONT ACT LIKE THERE WEREN'T PUBLIC EXECUTIONS OR SOME SHIT IN THE 1700s OR 1600s- I DONT REALLY KNOW

Joseph: I NEVER WENT TO SEE THOSE

Reader: WELL DID YOU MISS OUT?

Joseph: NO

He feels the need to check up on you every so often, deceased or not, he doesnt want you dying of a heart attack :( Joseph tries his best not to scare you too much in matches, so he usually let's you leave through dungeon if you've been good. Doesn't even step on you the rare couple of times he actually does down you :D

Antonio [ The Glass Staircase ]

Why would you play a game just to be scared? Although he has a literal demon inside of him, it doesnt feel as bad as people believe it is. Yeah it may whisper it wants to strangle him at times, but he assures himself that everything will be alright if it just keeps playing the violin that's gripped to his shoulder.

Antonio: Good girls take their medicine? What do we have, turberculosis? Cough away I guess

Reader: Nah, I actually have no idea, oh, and sorry you have to sit on the floor. You're kind of super tall and stuff

Antonio: *blushes and chuckles a bit* It's fine

Reader: Alright let's read these notes

*reads all available notes*

Reader: Jesus, what is this man trippin on?

Antonio: I dont know what he is, "trippin" on, but he is "trippin" on that terrible piano

Reader: LMFAO THAT WAS GOOD

Antonio: *Figets with his hair with a satisfied smile* Heh, I was only speaking the truth

Reader: Anyways, let's go through the doors, we have some gardening to do

Antonio: Of course

*door animation pauses and knocks back*

Antonio and reader: Wait what-

*THE LOUD SHIT THAT SCARED THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF ME*

*SCREAMS*

*Antonios hair suddenly wraps around Reader tightly*

*EVEN MORE SCREAMING*

It's become his thing to pull you in closer with his hair when he becomes hostile. Even in matches, he'll bleed out every survivor and hold you close seconds after. Fictional fear has no impact on what you feel during these moments, you wonder if you should keep playing these kinds of games with the charming violinist...

Wu Chang [ Nun Massacre ]

Fan would find it idiotic at first, you already have enough on your plate with tall hunters beating you to death almost everyday, why would you want to be even more frightened? As much as he is stubborn, later on as he got to know you and technology, he found it wasn't as bad as he thought it to be. Xie was confused and a bit concerned in the beginning, but seeing it please you and seeing how you wanted to share those experiences with him made his undead heart beat a bit slower.

Reader: Throw the rock at the glass window in the door

Fan: Wouldn't that alert the nun?

Xie: I'm sure it'll be fine as long as we hide for a bit

Reader: Yeah, just jump in really quickly and hide in the corner of the room

Fan: Alright, whatever you say Reader...

*Destroys window*

Reader: Okay go!

Fan: *continues to spacebar repeatedly* I'm trying to go over but it won't let me

Reader: Sometimes it might be like that, other people had problems like this

Xie: Fan, you're pressing it too much

Fan: IM TRYING OKAY

Reader: YOURE TAKING TOO LONG GO HIDE IN A BEDROOM

Fan: WHERE IS THE BEDROOM AGAIN

Reader: DOWN THE HALL OR SOMETHING

Fan: WHICH HALL

Xie: THE ONE DOWN THE STAIRS

Fan: FOR FUCKS SAKE *RUNS DOWN THE STAIRS*

Xie: TOO MANY STAIRS-

*gets stuck in barbed wire pit*

Reader: FAN WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

Fan: IT WENT TOO FAST READER, SORRY IM NOT A GOD

Reader: GOD WHY DOES SHE MAKE THOSE KINDS OF SOUNDS

Xie: OF COURSE SHES GONNA MAKE WEIRD SOUNDS, SHES IN AGONY???

Reader: WELL IT SOUNDS LIKE SHES HAVING A GOOD TIME IN THAT PIT HUH

Fan: LMFAOOO NO

*Nun peaks up on screen*

*collective concerned silence*

Reader: Uh, hey girrrrrrlllll, how are you doin? Please dont kill us lol

*nun starts to stab the shit out of the MC*

Xie, Fan and Reader: JESUS FUCK-

Fan feels the need to protect you even more now. He'll try to beat survivors down out of your line of sight to cut your heart some slack. Although he doesn't have that much of a problem chairing you, the fear ridden look on your face is so much more different than those of the cherished times you three share... Fan is much more careful of his image for you, he knows he supposed to be the angry/mean one, but he doesn't want you to run away from him or be too scared to confess your feelings to him...

Xie also feels the same, he'll be more gentle from then on, but doesn't stop playing his part in the actual death game. The tall, fair man only chairs you with a gentle grip and downs you with playful tripping. He also tries to look more reserved while in your witness, but when he hunts other survivors, let's just say that everyone always begs you post match to escort them for the rest of the day... You want to confront the boys about it, but with everything you hear, they could do anything dangerous to you if they were to ever lose the wrong screw. Despite what you may think about the situation, dont be too naive to believe they're both too Innocent. Even your most loved ones could be the bigger threat.

[chazukekani]

SPOILER ALERT 

Here is the quick summary of the first 60 pages of Stormbringer that just revealed today. 

Special thanks to Nika, Amir, and my discord server members for proof-reading!

— That is, the 169th possibility

— ‘You are late, my brother.’

Content

Prologue

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Code 02: Dead people do not possess any form of emotion

Code 03: I want to observe Chuuya’s suffer as a human

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Epilogue

Afterthought

Harukawa Sango ‘Stormbringer’ Character Setting Gallery

-

Pre-prologue

Fate whispers to warriors,

‘You cannot go against the storm.’

Warriors whisper back

‘I am the storm.’

— Cao Zhi ‘Luo Shen Fu’

-

Prologue

It began in a forest at midnight. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, but suddenly a beam appeared in the forest. It’s a huge fire. The forest was on fire. People who lived in the village nearby ran to the forest to see what happened. It was a wrecked airplane that just fell from the sky. People used hammers to dig the airplane to see whether there are any survivors.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the airplane. He seemed fine, but the crowd was shocked.

‘Apologies for my courtesy. In accordance with civil society, I should introduce myself,’ said the man. He pulled out a badge on his chest. The badge was black and words on it were engraved with silver. One of the teenagers from the village read off the words on it

‘I am a detective from Europole (Europe Detective and Police Organisation), which I am an office equipment. Category number 98F78195, made by ability technician Dr. Wollstonecraft. The first ever humanoid computer that serves for worldwide police facilities. Code name is Adam, Adam Frankenstein. It is my pleasure to meet you. I should carry out my mission now, see you.’

Before Adam left, he asked ‘Do you know a person called Nakahara Chuuya?’

-

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers 

Chuuya couldn't see his dream. Everytime he woke up, he felt like he was in a swamp of mud. Today, Chuuya woke up in his apartment. Just like other’s morning routine, Chuuya took a shower, cleaned himself and left his home.

Chuuya was 16 years old. Since a year he had joined the mafia, Chuuya excelled in his job with the most outstanding performance, and was well recognised in the organisation.

However with all the money and status he got, Chuuya was not satisfied. The thing that he wanted the most was to know his past. Chuuya knew nothing about it. The earliest memory he had was being kidnapped to a military facility 8 years ago.

There was already a branded black car waiting for Chuuya outside his apartment with a group of men in suits and sunglasses. ‘Please go to the regular store,’ said Chuuya.

Chuuya was in charge of supervising the jewel/gemstone transaction within the Mafia and black market, which had been an important source of income for the mafia.

He arrived at the store. Before entering it, a gun was pointed on Chuuya’s head, while there was another gun pointed onto his chest. Bang! What a big sound. Yet there was no blood, but a bunch of colourful ribbons came off.

‘Congratulations to your 1st year since joining the mafia!’, said those men.

Today was the first anniversary for Chuuya joining the mafia, and his friends held a party for him. People who joined the party all belonged to the ‘young club’ of the mafia, which were all 25 years old or younger.

The party-planner was called ‘Piano Man’. He was called Piano Man not because of his black and white outfit, but his way of killing. He liked using the strings of piano keyboards and strangled people to death. Piano Man was very tall, his fingers were long and thin, and always put a smile on his face. He was by far the man who was closest to the position of the Port Mafia executive.

The second man who came to congratulate Chuuya was called Albatross, a man with golden hair. He was a teen that loved smiling and was very talkative. Albatross was in charge of the transportation aspect of the mafia, and was complimented as very efficient and speedy in completing the missions, and was currently living in the same neighbourhood as Chuuya in a high-ended area. He previously belonged to an organisation called ‘Wheelman’.

Albatross proposed a toasting, but Chuuya was not in a good mood. “Did you have a nightmare?” Albatross joked, but Chuuya turned furious after hearing the word ‘nightmare’. Everyone was horrified. ‘No I wasn’t!’ Chuuya shouted. When Chuuya was about to leave the shop, yet another man came in. He was holding a champagne glass, and on his other hand, he was holding a medical drip stand that had a drip injected into his arm. His name was Doc.

Different from other doctors in the gangster industry, Doc graduated in a Northern American university and was awarded with a Doctorate formally. Doctors were highly demanded within the mafia because members could not simply walk into regular hospitals with injuries that were caused by gunshots. Doctors in the PM were treated nicely and respected, thanks to the boss, Mori-san, who was also a former doctor. The reason why Doc became a doctor was because he wanted to get closer to God. ‘The more lives you save, the closer you get to God’ is the motto of Doc. The Bible once wrote that God saved two million lives, so Doc’s goal was to save a similar number of people, which was why he joined the Mafia.

Chuuya still wanted to leave.

“The first year was the toughest, so we need to celebrate that you got through it,’ a gentle voice said. It was a man who had an extraordinarily beautiful appearance. The first year of joining the Mafia was the so-called ‘Deadman Curve’, so a celebration is needed,” said Lippmann, the guy with a pretty face. The work of Lippmann was probably the most unique one out of all of them. He was in charge of the public relations of the Mafia, such as negotiating deals with enterprises, or having meetings with the government. It is more difficult to kill him than killing the Boss of the Mafia because Lippmann was also a famous actor, thus every single action he made would be reported by the media. Hence it was really difficult to get him.

Another man came in, and his name was Ice Man. Unlike Chuuya’s other friends, he was quiet, and wore a simple outfit. Ice Man did not show much emotion, and was low profile. His job was simple, to kill. He did not use an ability, guns or knives to kill. Instead, he used objects that were nearby to kill. Anything, regardless if it’s a pen, wine bottle or the wire of light bulbs could become a murdering tool, hence Ice Man could kill anywhere.

The gathering continued. Chuuya was gradually having a better mood, until Ice Man asked Chuuya ‘where were you born?’ Chuuya immediately grabbed Ice Man’s shirt, and there was such a tension among the guys. Piano Man then revealed that he knew why Chuuya was mad, because Mori told him about Chuuya’s past that he was just an artificial ability experiment that was created by the military. Hence Mori asked Piano Man to invite Chuuya into the younger’s club, in order to have a surveillance on Chuuya. Piano Man pointed out the reason why Chuuya was mad today because he was actually not able to dream. Suddenly, the tension was back. Everyone had their weapons already, but Piano Man took out a present for the 1st anniversary from his coat, and gave it to Chuuya.

It was a photograph, a picture of two people, and one of them was five year old Chuuya.

The picture was taken in an old village in the Western region, Piano Man said. The area was abandoned afterwards but Doc found this picture inside the medical record of the village. Lippmann then added that he had asked a woman to check all the military-related databases, in which she found out that the military once held a recruitment experiment in the Western region. Still, Chuuya’s friends were able to find the family tree of Chuuya, his school, his report card and his birth record. However, such an investigation must not be known to Mori because Mori thought that if Chuuya’s background remained a secret, Chuuya would not betray the Mafia.

Chuuya did not understand why his friends did this for him. Lippmann said because they were companions. He then proposed why not they name the younger’s club as ‘Flags’.

The Flags then went to a billiards bar. All of a sudden, apart from the six people playing the billiards, there was the seventh person who joined the game. He had long arms and legs, and of course very tall. Black hair with brown eyes, and was standing by the table seriously.

All of a sudden, Albatross used his Kulric knife and sliced on the seventh person's head, which produced an uncomfortable noise. Yet, that person escaped from the attack. A fight then broke out because the Flags thought this seventh person was an ability user, and suspected his intention for coming to the Mafia’s facility. However, Ice Man pointed out that this person was not an ability user, but the fight continued.

During the fight, Adam grabbed the legs of the table, and something grew from his hand. It was a small-scale dinosaur, that grew from Adam’s hands as if it were a plant. The battle was intense. Someone shouted Chuuya’s name out of nowhere, and Adam noticed something.

‘Chuuya-san’, Adam greeted Chuuya politely.

‘I am here to protect you,’ Adam replied. Adam introduced himself, and explained his mission. Adam was sent here to arrest an assassin called Paul Verlaine.

When Chuuya heard the name Verlaine, his facial expression changed.

‘Why do you know this name?’ asked Chuuya

‘Chuuya-san, you cannot defeat Verlaine on your own. That’s why I am here. Verlaine was not only an assassin. He is the king of assassins. He is your brother.’ said Adam.

The misconception was relieved, and the Flags, together with Adam, played billiards happily afterwards.

-

The story continues on 27th Feb

[miss-angxlist]

This is based on a true story, like what happened to my friend long ago! How about class 1-a with a pianist! reader who practices alone and privately by herself but refuses to play for anyone else? Like, she refuses to open up why until she trusts them enough to confess that her strict and abusive mother expected perfection from her and when she gave up on her, tried to hammer her hands down to force her to quit. Since then, she didn't want to disappoint anyone with her "bad playing."

silent pianist

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 - [ 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 ]

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : platonic!class 1a x fem!reader

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : verbal abuse , abusive mother , injury , not proof read

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, fluff

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 644

𝚊/𝚗 : ahfuikgdfjsek im alive and i have written something for the first time in a month or two. i tried to write this as best as i could and im really sorry this has happened to your friend

i'm trying to get more work out asap!

also i could not think of a good title for this :D

“Just give it up already. I gave you a ton of chances. You’ll never be good enough.”

Your fingers stop their movements on the keys as you hear your mother scoff. She stalks toward you and stops once she’s stood aside you.

You feel her cold gaze on your figure. “Seriously; I paid all this money for your piano lessons and you just wasted it.”

You cry out as she drops the fallboard on your fingers. She mutters under her breath as she walks away. “Pathetic little girl.”

~

You saunter down the stairs as quietly as you could; you weren’t trying to wake anyone up and get yelled at. You freeze as you reach the bottom of the stairs. Your classmates had talked about the dorms getting a piano but you had been cooped in your room all day and hadn’t seen it.

You slowly walked over to it and sat down on the bench. You wince as you lift the fallboard, revealing the keys. When your mother slammed the fallboard on your hands, a few of your fingers were broken and she refused to take you to the doctors so some were a tad crooked.

You took your mother’s words to heart and you honestly didn’t think you were good at all so you never showed off, only playing when you were certain you were home alone.

Your hands brushed over the keys, press a few before playing a song. All your concerns of being quiet were left behind.

So engaged in your song, you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you. “Woah, you know how to play Y/n?”

You jump up, hitting the piano, making the bench fall over and the fallboard fall down. Glancing up, you spot a familiar redhead followed by a pink haired girl.

Uncomfortably, you rub the back of your neck. “Yeah, kinda.”

“You’re so good!” Mina jumps in front of you. “You should play for the class!”

You stare at the ground. “I don’t know.”

Kirishima places a hand on your shoulder with a warm smile. “Think about it.”

You watch as Kirishima pulls Mina away to the kitchen and you’re left alone with your thoughts.

~

You wandered through the common room. Everyone else was in class so no one was there. You had been feeling a little under the weather so Mr. Aizawa let you stay in the dorms for the day.

Your gaze eventually wanders to the piano. Glancing at the clock, you sigh. There was plenty of time before class ended so no one would hear. You quickly snatch a towel from the kitchen and stuff it so the fallboard would have a stopper.

~

As Midoriya opens the building’s door, he hears the gentle sound of a piano.

Ochako glances at him with a questioning gaze. The duo quickly walks toward the sound, the majority of the class following him. Kirishima gives Mina a knowing look, unnoticed by the rest of the class, as he hangs back with Bakugou.

When the class sees you, they just sit in silence, enjoying the sweet melody. You stop, sensing a presence behind you. Slowly glancing behind you, you want to hide away when you see the whole class behind you.

“Wow, you’re really good Y/n!” Midoriya exclaims.

You blush and shake your head. “No..”

“You really are!” Ochako comes to sit next to you. “Why do you think you’re not?”

You stare down, fiddling with your hands. “My mom always told me I wasn’t good enough. She kept trying to get me to quit.”

“Well she was wrong!” Kaminari marched in front of you.

Mina ran to stand next to him. “Yeah! You’re amazing!”

“You are really talented Y/n.” Iida smiles at you.

“Play us something else!” Hagakure yells.

You blush and turn back to face the keyboard. Smiling to yourself, you start pressing keys.