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#and a brand new macbook
novelconcepts · 10 months
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Honestly, I made that joke about Van’s ancient desktop, but it probably works better than new computers. And it made me think: god, Van must HATE planned obsolescence. Stuff that’s built to die? Stuff that’s built to fall apart in a matter of years just to force you to buy more? For a person whose whole deal is gripping tight to the past, to old technology that still works perfectly fine, to the idea of survival threaded through everything from the stories she tells to the machines she rents out? Yeah, dude. No wonder she hates her cell phone. Not only does it force the illusion of connection without actually granting intimacy, but it’s doomed from the minute you take the thing out of the box. For Van, the very idea has got to be offensive.
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waitineedaname · 6 months
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went down a rabbit hole looking at the demographics of my hometown and discovered the poverty rate is nearly twice the national average. good lord.
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44prop · 7 months
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girls and their inability to get rid of anything
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frick-yes-dragons · 6 months
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piece of crap fucking idiot shitass computer fucking cant even charge or turn on fucking little bitch i hate you
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pagetbewbster · 2 years
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So, I bought a brand new MacBook Pro for myself after getting this new, high paying job and guess what they just sent me in the mail before I start on Monday?
A new MacBook Pro + accessories. I have like $7000 worth of tech sitting in my living room rn and it feels weiiiird.
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rescuethewretched · 2 years
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look at this awesome shirt I bought at boxlunch
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my men 🥰🥰🥰
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9r4v3y4rd · 28 days
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.
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unimatrix-420 · 1 year
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Seagate 1 TB Backup Plus for Mac | $70
No longer in original box but has never been used! Comes with original USB cable. Model # is SRD0SP0. Is $100 brand new, so this is as low as I'll go. Please, I really need to sell this as it could help us pay our rent this month.
Item specs
USB 3.0
Storage space: 1 TB
Dimensions: 4.86" x 3.19" x 0.57"
Weight: 7 oz.
Features: indication light; USB port/USB powered; portable
Interface: USB; Firewire 800; Thunderbolt
You can purchase it on Facebook Marketplace or through my shop on Gumroad.
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saviourfinn · 1 year
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A MacBook pro can cost up to 2900 euros??? I knew it was expensive but I didn't know it was that ridiculously expensive. I could buy a car with 2900 euros!!! And it's not even a super powerful computer... 2900 euros to have a computer that do basic shit and that doesn't even have most of the useful ports. Apple is really a scam
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Birthday dinner time 💅🏾
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mmorgrevolution · 1 year
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Brand new macbook pro battery life short
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BRAND NEW MACBOOK PRO BATTERY LIFE SHORT MOVIE
BRAND NEW MACBOOK PRO BATTERY LIFE SHORT UPDATE
BRAND NEW MACBOOK PRO BATTERY LIFE SHORT UPGRADE
But even if they fall a bit short, we’ll likely still see much improved MacBook Air and Pro battery life. Time will tell if Apple’s ratings stand up to real-world use.
BRAND NEW MACBOOK PRO BATTERY LIFE SHORT MOVIE
In a comparison, the 2020 Intel-based computer touted 10 hours web browsing and movie playback, while the new 14 inch MacBook Pro with the Pro/Max chip offered up to 11 hours web browsing and 17 hours of movie playback on the Apple TV. These gains are no doubt thanks to the M1’s 8-core design featuring 4 high-efficiency and 4 high-performance cores and how Apple is able to now fine-tune macOS Big Sur with the brand-new hardware. Also, battery life is rated higher compared to previous MacBook Pros with Intel chips.
BRAND NEW MACBOOK PRO BATTERY LIFE SHORT UPGRADE
With Apple Silicon, the company’s notebooks look set to get a massive upgrade in battery life thanks to much more efficient hardware (and software).Īpple revealed during its November event that the MacBook Air with the M1 chip is rated for 15 hours of wireless web use and 18 hours of video playback.Īnd even more impressive, the new 13-inch MacBook Pro with M1 Apple Silicon is rated for 17 hours of wireless web and wild 20 hours of video playback. A1322 A1278 Battery for MacBook Pro Battery 13 inch Mid 2009 2012 2010 Early & Late 2011,3icp5/69/71-2 Battery for MacBookPro 5,5 7,1 8,1 9,2 mc700ll/a MacBook pro A1278 A1322 Battery 10.95V 63. However, that’s usually in best-case scenario conditions with 6-8 hours often being more realistic, especially as the notebooks age. JIGU New Replacement Laptop Battery A1189 MA458 For Apple for MacBook Pro 17&quot MA611X/A. Until now, Apple has given battery life ratings of about 10-12 hours for most of its MacBooks. Now at macOS 10.15.
BRAND NEW MACBOOK PRO BATTERY LIFE SHORT UPDATE
Beyond processor and graphics performance, Apple says battery performance is seeing massive improvements giving them the “longest battery life ever in a Mac.” Here’s what Apple is rating battery runtime for the new MacBook Air and Pro. Apple‘s upcoming MacBook Pro update will allow user’s to get more out of their laptop’s battery life. Affected units were manufactured between October 2016 and October 2017 and eligibility is determined by. This is not a safety issue and Apple will replace eligible batteries, free of charge. As Apple launched its new MacBook Air and MacBook Pro powered by its M1 custom Apple Silicon, we learned about the big performance gains to expect. Apple has determined that, in a limited number of 13-inch MacBook Pro (non Touch Bar) units, a component may fail causing the built-in battery to expand.
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thestoryofusstan · 10 days
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I Wanna Be Yours
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pairing: boss!ceo!harry styles x reader
request: Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??
summary: harry is the notoriously mean owner of pleasing, and he might have a slight soft spot for the new girl in the marketing department.
warnings: cursing, not edited
--
you were extremely new to pleasing, a very famous brand known for their nail polishes and perfumes. ever since you started (about three months ago), you’d hear literal horror stories about the founder and ceo.
rachel, the girl who trained you, told you that he was just plain rude. it was safe to say you feared the day he came in. thankfully, he wasn’t around much. not at your location, anyway. you were at the los angeles location, but he preferred to stay at the new york one.
tuesday morning, you got ready like every day. put on your usual outfit (a skirt, white button-up, a blazer, and heels), along with some black fleece-lined tights and a headband to push your hair back. it was getting cold out, and you couldn’t get away with just a skirt much longer.
with your iced coffee in one hand, your macbook and a few files you’d taken home in the other, you walked quickly into the building.
“good morning, miss townes,” the concierge greeted you.
“morning, nancy!” you greeted back as you ran to the elevator and pressed the button.
“late?” nancy asked.
“almost! this stupid elevator—“ said elevator dinged, and you let out a sigh of relief. “speak of the devil. see you, nance!”
by the time you made it up to the marketing floor (the twentieth floor out of fifty), you were exactly on time.
you moved as quickly as your heels would allow, dropping your car keys, computer, and files onto the desk.
“right on time, y/n,” rachel teased as you sat down. the two of you had cubicles right next to each other.
“long line at the coffee shop.”
“lucky you weren’t any later,” she commented as you sat down and took a generous sip of the iced coffee that had almost made you late, “mr. styles is said to be coming in today.”
you nearly choked on your drink.
“you finished those edits, right?”
“.. uh.. yeah. yeah, finished them last night,” you lied with a nod.
“y/n! he’s ruthless— he will literally fire you! that’s the new launch, and it’s overdue!”
“i know! i know, but i’ve been so busy, and fucking josh keeps making me do his shit—“
“oh shit, shut up. he’s here.”
“what?” you squeaked, quickly cleaning up your desk and opening the new launch photos on both the desktop and your personal computer.
out of the corner of your eye, you watched as what had to be mr. styles strolled through with an assistant who was talking about what you assumed was his schedule.
“you’ll have a meeting with the investors at three, and we have some papers to sign—“
you tuned her out as you tried to speed up the editing— brightening colors and adjusting the text so it fit better.
and suddenly, the footsteps of mr. styles and his assistant stopped. directly in front of your desk.
“you,” a voice spoke, and oh my god, he was british, “i don’t know you. who are you?”
your eyes snapped up to meet his, “oh. uh.. i’m y/n.. y/n townes. i’m.. um.. i’m new.”
he mouthed your name as if thinking it over.
“you’re the one doing the edits for the new launch?” he asked.
“yes, sir.”
he nodded before continuing his stroll. because, of fucking course, his office had to be on the marketing floor.
you let out a breath, sinking into your chair. rachel grabbed your arm with a comforting smile, “it’s okay, babes. he could’ve been rude.”
“he’s gonna see i’m not done and fire me!”
“it’s fine, just don’t think about it.”
right as you were about to head out on a quick lunch break, mr. styles’ assistant popped up at your desk.
“ms. townes, mr. styles requested your presence in his office. you, as well, ms. evans,” she said, glancing at you and rachel.
“uh— me? for.. for what?” you questioned.
“you’ll find out. i have to find a.. josh richardson. go on.”
you and rachel shared uneasy looks as the two of you stood and made your way to mr. styles’ office.
“if i get fired, i’m jumping out of a window,” you muttered as rachel pulled the door open.
“ah, ms. evans. ms. townes…. where is mr. richardson?” mr. styles spoke.
“your assistant went to grab him,” rachel answered. “what are we needed for?”
“you’ll see… ah, mr. richardson. so kind of you to join us.”
even you could tell he did not mean that.
“what is this?” josh asked, looking to you and rachel.
“you three were all put in charge of the new launch. correct?”
you all chorused variations of yes.
“and yet… nothing is done. why is that?”
you glanced to your shoes. you knew rachel was done. the whole project was all three of you were to make 300 campaigns and promo photos for the new nail polish launch. you'd devided it to be 100 each, and you all picked however many billboard designs, posters, social media posts, and so-ons that you'd do for the project. however, josh had slowly but surely pushed all of his work onto you.. until you had to do 200, and you only had around 130 done.
“i expect an answer.”
“i.. i finished all my photos and campaigns,” rachel finally said.
“i'm nearly done with.. my things. i was just helping josh before i--“
“so.. what i’m hearing so far, and correct me if i’m wrong, is that mr. richardson hasn’t been doing his job?”
josh cleared his throat, and you could feel the daggers he was glaring at you burning into your skull, “yes, mr. styles.”
mr. styles nodded, and you understood the horror stories now. he wasn’t even trying and he was terrifying. “do you like your job, mr. richardson?”
“yes, mr—“
“so why aren’t you doing it?”
“i— i’ve been.. busy.”
“busy.. right. well, i’ll make you less busy. you’re fired. get out.”
“wh— what? you can’t fire me!”
“i believe i can. and i just did. so get. out.”
“i have worked at this company for eight years! i make one mistake, and—“
“i will not ask you again!” mr. styles shouted, standing up from his chair. you flinched. “because i am not asking you, i am telling you. you are fired, and you will leave this building. and don’t even think about puttin’ this place on your resume, i won’t say a single good word about your ass.”
josh scoffed and stormed out of the room, you and rachel followed.
you turned the corner, yelping when someone grabbed your wrist and yanked it.
“what the hell, y/n? you said you’d do my—“
“i didn’t say that. you just assumed i would. i am not just apart of the valentines launch, josh, and i have fifty other things to do, and i can’t drop that just because you’re lazy.”
“you better watch what you say to me—“
a voice spoke from behind. mr. styles’ assisant, “uh.. miss townes? mr. styles requests he speak with you.. privately.”
you yanked your arm back, rubbing your wrist, “yes. of— of course. sorry.”
you walked back towards his office with your head down, glancing up at him once you entered the room.
you were surprised to see a... calm look on his face.
"miss townes, correct?" he asked.
"ye-.. uh.. yes, sir."
he smiled, which was very odd from what you'd seen of him so far, "you can relax, darling. you aren't in trouble. have a seat."
you hesitantly wandered towards the chair on the other side of his desk.
"what did you mean by.. helping mr. richardson with his work?"
"oh, well... he just.. he kept saying he was busy and asking if i could do.. certain parts of his work. and i--.. well, sometimes i'm a bit of a pushover, so i said yes."
"i see... and how much of his work, in total, did he push onto you?"
"uhm... all of it, mr. styles."
his eyes widened, "all of it? and you didn't tell a supervisor he wasn't planning on doing any of his work?"
"i.. i felt bad," you shrugged, looking down at your hands.
"yes. well... mrs. maruska, can you please bring mr. richardson back in here for a moment, please?"
you jumped when his assistant spoke behind you, not realizing she was even in the room.
"yes, mr. styles."
it was silent for a minute after the door shut, maybe two minutes, until the door re-opened and two pairs of footsteps entered.
"mr. richardson, before you leave, you are going to do something for me," mr. styles spoke. "you are going to apologize to y/n--"
you nearly choke on your own spit at his use of your first name.
"for making her do all of your work. and.. you will also apologize for whatever the hell that was i heard outside. that is no way to speak to any colleague."
josh scoffed, "i'm not apologiz--"
"i'm not asking."
mr. styles gaze switched to you as josh begrudgingly sighed, "i'm sorry, y/n."
"it's okay," you murmured, glancing at him.
"no, it isn't," mr. styles quickly interjected, keeping his eyes on you. you much preferred them on you than on josh. they were a lot kinder when they focused on you. softer. "but.. if ms. townes says it is alright... you may leave now."
you aren't quite sure what happens afterwards, because you keep your gaze away from mr. styles, because you're afraid he'll notice how nervous he makes you.
"how many did you have left?" mr. styles asked quietly. softly.
"i have 130 done. so.. seventy left. but i-- i can get them done soon, i promise. i can just stay late, or.. or--"
"no. none of that. you'll submit the ones you have.. and we'll figure out something for the rest."
"really? i mean.. are you sure?"
"i wouldn't have offered if i wasn't. you can go, now."
"thank you, mr. styles," you mumbled, standing and walking to the door.
right as you grabbed the handle, he called out.
"oh, and y/n?"
you turned around with a furrow in your brows.
"let me know if you have any other problems."
you can't even help the foolish smile on your lips as you nod and leave the room.
--
a/n: part 1!! i really love this request
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Carpe Diem | Michael Gavey x fem!reader
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Summary: After himself being ditched by Oliver, they meet once again. Both seemingly skirting around what happened in the Common Room when they last saw one another. | Word Count: 5.1k~ (oops) | Warnings below the cut!
Part One: Quid Pro Quo Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici
warnings: virgin michael, oral sex (f receiving), fingering
A/N: I feel...like the word count is overboard but FUCK IT it's my blog 😈
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“Greek and Latin both belong to the Indo-European language family, which does not necessarily mean they are similar. The branches are totally different. Whereas Latin belongs to the Romance branch, Greek belongs to the…”
She half-listens to the lecture, caught between Professor Wardon’s monotone ramblings and scribbling whatever bits and pieces she can string together in swirly handwriting, trying to ignore Trevor two rows in front of her, typing loudly on his brand new Macbook that he no doubt got from his well-off parents for Christmas.
Pencil and paper for the peasants, she thinks bitterly.
The laptop she has back in her dorm is clunky, too thick for carrying in her bag, and any notes she makes now will have to be typed up meticulously later. She supposes it’s a good way of getting the information to be irreparably printed into her brain though. That’s the only thing keeping her from going insane.
Which is where she finds herself now, in the wee hours of the morning, her fingers so tired and eyes so strained she feels that all the letters and characters are beginning to merge together.
She's just about to close the damn thing when a notification blares in the bottom right corner of her screen.
‘m_gav_314159265359 is now online’
She presses her lips together to stifle a laugh at the username, it makes her giggle every time. Of course his username is fucking Pi.
After their little ‘happening’ in the Common Room, they'd talked for a bit over MSN, sometimes texting when she had enough credit and even more rarely meeting up at Trinity College campus. Their timetables never seemed to line up very often, so their meetings were quick and over before they could even get settled into really getting to know each other.
It felt strange to have done something so exciting and yet not really know someone.
The memory made her blush. She was never usually that impulsive and brazen. But she didn't regret it.
Everytime Michael saw her, his cheeks flushed almost without her even needing to try. And it felt nice to see someone act like that in her presence.
After lectures had started after Christmas into the New Year and then into Spring, she found herself somewhat self-conscious. Second guessing herself. Wondering if the freedom and calmness of the holiday period had given him a new sense of clarity.
After all, he'd not spoken to her once since lectures had started again.
A heaviness weighed in her chest, bitterly like rejection.
Maybe she was delirious from the time of night, but she felt a surge of courage, desperately wanting to just know if this was going to be more or not.
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She felt her cheeks heat somewhat, rubbing the backs of her knuckles against her lips. There was no time to reply before he sent another.
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And if what he'd said before didn't make her face burn, that certainly did. She nearly smirked when she thought to herself, 'you mean when I sucked you off in the Common Room?'
But she didn't type that. She decided to have mercy on him, if only a little.
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His replies were so blunt and to the point that they were so quintessentially Michael. She found herself wondering if what he'd typed before had been for the intention of making her blush, but she doubted it. He seemed the type to be somewhat oblivious to how words could affect the opposite sex.
Or anything to do with the opposite sex for that matter.
Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she typed off a few quick goodbyes and with a soft, plastic tap, shut her laptop for the night.
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“There are no fit guys in my class this semester, fucking livid,” Priya rolls her eyes, nursing a stale pint and a cigarette.
“Did you really expect Modern Languages to be teeming with attractive men?” She smirks in response.
“No. But I at least expected a good shag within the first three months.”
“Does they have to be within our course?”
“No, course not. I'm not lazy as fuck. Can’t be arsed to go off campus.”
She laughs, waving the smoke trail that's formed between their faces, the smell of cigarettes and damp, beer-soaked carpets fill her senses, nursing the only pint she's capable of downing.
“Don't shit where you eat, Priya.”
“Don't you fuckin’ start,” she grins with all her perfect teeth before checking her phone, “fuck, is that the time. Sorry mate you've got like half your pint left-”
“Don't be silly, just go. Whoever you're meeting is bound to have a bigger cock than me anyway.”
“You're a nasty bitch, you know that?” she smiles, standing and pulling her mini-skirt down, “see you later? Catch up?”
“Wouldn't miss it for the world. Have fun!”
“Oh I will!”
She smiles, sipping the stale beer as Priya rushes out the door excitedly tapping the keypads on her phone in reply to a guy no-doubt, nearly running right into a lamppost.
She pulled out her own phone, spotting a new message from the ex-boyfriend she hadn’t heard a peep out of since Freshers Week, groaning with a displeased expression at the first few lines of text that read as if he were desperate. Even over the crackling sound of the speakers and Daniel Powter’s ‘Bad Day’ lulling quietly through the pub, she was still sensitive to the sound of his voice.
“-get me another pint please, Oliver? Thanks.”
She had to crane her neck, half-swivelled on her chair, but it was undoubtedly him. Only one person had that hissy, direct way of speaking, had dirty, blonde hair that touched the nape of his neck and was likely to wear such an…interesting selection of clothes.
Her mouth was barely open before she realised it was Michael, and by then he was too far away to shout from across a busy pub. She found herself with a sort of stupid grin, watching him walk with such a lanky gait, as if walking were an inhuman thing for him to do. 
It took her a few moments to text back a reply to her ex before she looked up again, eyebrows furrowed when she saw that whoever Michael had been with, was now umming and ahhing about whether to join the popular lot, for which she recognised Felix Catton amongst them, shockingly ill-dressed in a ‘what happens in Kassiopi stays in Kassiopi’ t-shirt, with a cigarette between his lips that had been inhaled to a nub. 
She grimaced. Only rich people could dress so fucking shocking.
And then her heart leapt in a different way when she saw Michael look distantly at Oliver, his hand half-raised in an awkward wave, his face crumbling in a way where she knew he was disappointed and yet, not surprised in the slightest. 
It was when Michael pushed his glasses up his nose in a way she couldn’t help but find sweet and go for the door, that she slipped from the stool she was on, a quarter of her pint left, and took off after him.
“Michael!”
The late winter air nipped at her skin, cursing internally that his legs were so fucking long he could stride a hell of a lot further than her. 
“Michael!”
It wasn’t hard to see the glint of his glasses lenses off the streetlights once he’d turned to face her, his lips parted in surprise and a heat rising to his cheeks.
He swallowed visibly, “H-hey..”
She felt her own heart rattle in her chest at how easy it was to fluster him, “Hey, you alright?”
For a moment, the self-proclaimed mathematical genius seemed genuinely lost for words, his throat closing up on him like he was having a sort of allergic reaction to the opposite sex. So with all that, he simply nodded, his hands clenched as if not knowing what to do with them.
“Sorry about your mate, that was a shitty thing to do.”
“Oh, he’s…he’s not my mate.”
She nodded, rubbing her hands together to warm them from the chill, “d’you wanna go somewhere?”
Michael’s eyes behind his glasses widened, “like…together?”
“No, I’ll make you go off on your own,” she grinned, “yes together!”
He huffed an embarrassed but elated laugh, and only now her eyes studied his shirt, cocking her head in amusement at the ‘that’s how I roll’ shirt with what looked like a maths equation beneath it. The actual meaning was lost on her, but it was so dorky it made her smile.
“U-uh, my mum bought it me for Christmas...” he muttered quickly to which she cracked an even bigger smile, the two of them laughing quietly for a moment before he spoke up again. 
“Do you wanna come to mine?” he asked, and it was so direct it made her blink, her lungs feeling as if they were fluttering, “I mean-my dorm.”
She wet her lips from the dry cold, watching how nervous and twitchy he was. And how it reminded her of the last time they were alone together. 
“Like…catch up or something. I-I’ve got alcohol if you-”
“That’d be lovely, Michael.”
He at least seemed grateful that she’d actually replied to save him from rambling, and even cracked a thin-lipped smile himself, clearly and delightfully nervous. Thirty-minutes ago, he’d have never considered this to be the ending to his evening. 
Michael’s room is disturbingly tidy, she wonders if he actually even lives here. It’s like those university rooms that they take photos of to advertise the ‘spacious’ and ‘community-driven’ atmosphere of campus life. 
At least it was clean, she mused as Michael passed her a bottle of the only alcohol he had, which were lukewarm WKDs.
“Thanks,” she smiles, taking a sugary sip and looking about the room. Michael has since cracked open his own drink, but seems disinterested in it as it rests on his bouncing knee, looking up at her from where he’s sat on his desk chair from under his brow.
His laptop sits shut, pencils in a neat line next to it. His walls are bare, with what she can only assume are blue tack marks from the previous tenant’s last year. With the exception of a wall-mounted calendar next to his desk.
“No posters? Was hoping I could be nosy, see what you like.” 
When she turns back to Michael he quickly looks down as if not wanting to be caught staring, “It’d just be maths stuff.”
“And Carol Vorderman?” she teases mindlessly, not catching the way his cheeks go alight.
She hums an amused laugh behind the bottle at her lips, “It’s very tidy.”
When he just replies with a shrug, she scoots off the bed to have a roam about the place, needing only a few steps to cross the room to his bookcase, filled to the brim neatly with books. She runs her finger along some of the spines.
“You’re not going to mess anything up are you?”
She laughs, coming out more of a snort, which makes her cheeks warm, “Sorry. Just curious about your books. ‘Mathematics of Language. Sounds like a bit of me and you.”
There’s that flush again.
That deer in the headlights look.
“Uh…just sounded interesting.”
“And is it?”
“Is it what?”
She smirks, “interesting.”
There’s a silence that for a moment neither of them are able to shake. 
Michael swallows visibly, “don’t know yet..”
She sees something in his expression when a playful smile lifts across her face, suddenly the memories and implications of what they’d done before now weighing heavily on them. And all at once, he’s able to smell the body scrub she’d used in the shower that morning and eyes flitting to the glint of her stud earrings. He’d remembered brushing past them with his fingers when her mouth wrapped around his-
“And who says you’re not a languages man?” she presses with a teasing lilt to her voice. The tone and sing-songy nature of her voice has his heart doing backflips, feeling as if he could feel the erratic beating between his ribs. 
Michael seems stuck in the position he finds himself as she lazily crosses the room, slipping back on his bed, one hand brushing across his bedsheets and the other setting the drink on his bedside table. For a long moment, his eyes couldn’t leave her. The whole situation was suitably extraordinary. A girl who had come onto him (to say the least) was now in his room, sat on his bed, touching his things…all while wearing something he personally deemed unsuitable for the cold, a dress with black tights beneath.
She turns her head to him, smiling, “you seem nervous.”
He swallows, trying to claw at any sort of reply, “is that an accusation?”
It comes out a bit harsher than he probably expected, but instead of recoiling, she bites her lip as if to stifle a full-toothed grin, “an observation.”
He shrugs, “just never had a girl in here before.”
“Worried I’ll mess up your feng shui?”
“My what?”
She genuinely laughs at that, nearly smacking her head on the bed frame, but a hearty chuckle all the same. And Michael doesn’t know why his own cheeks start to heat up at that, taking this opportunity that her eyes are shut to look down at her legs. For some reason, making her laugh just makes him want to try more. 
He’s never had that feeling before. Wanting to make someone laugh.
“No, really, my what.”
She meets his eyes brightly with her own, “feng shui, it’s like…the vibe of a room, a space. Like,  how you place your furniture or whatever.”
Michael raises a brow, his lip quirking on one side, “sounds like bullshit.”
“It probably is.” she laughs.
“Can I ask you something?”
The quick u-turn and tone in conversation has her eyes meet his nervously, her interest and curiosity piqued. Her hands find themselves nervously stroking her legs, the texture of the tights providing some level of comfort, “yeah sure.”
She can't quite figure out what expression he's trying to put on. His brows are furrowed in judgement and a curious sense of guarding himself. And yet he's sat back in his seat, looking at her like he is trying to figure her out, and yet wants to know why she is the way she is.
“Why did you do that?”
She blinks at the accusatory and monotone rhythm of his way of speaking.
“Do what.”
“Don't play stupid. Doesn't suit you.”
She nearly scoffs at that, “what? Why have you gone all weird all of a sudden?”
“Why did you do…that at the Christmas party?”
She shrugs and shakes her head, as if the answer should be obvious, “because I wanted to? And you didn't seem to mind either.”
“I didn't-that's not the point!” he retorts, “are you genuinely taking the mick out of me?”
“You've asked that before and no.”
“Well why then?”
“Is it not enough to really think that I find you interesting? And nice to talk to?”
Of all the things she expected Michael Gavey to go quiet at, it certainly wasn't that. But she watches him all the same, the line between his brow slowly disappearing as his frown vanishes.
She cocks her head, “and not bad looking either.”
“Stop it.”
“I mean it!”
“Nobody wants the fucking maths virgin-”
“Michael. I don't give a fuck about that,” she says calmly, “Hell, I was a virgin not that long ago. You keep saying ‘nobody wants the virgin’ but you can't keep using that as an excuse just because you're embarrassed you haven't done anything.”
He sighs, like he doesn't want to believe her. And she can hardly believe how self-deprecating and yet direct this man can be in a single breath.
“Look, if you don't want to talk to me, I can always go-”
Almost as soon as she is stood, he is too, one large hand wrapped around her forearm, “No.”
They've been sat so long, she had almost forgotten how tall he was, and the difference between them briefly has her tummy doing back flips. From here, she is able to smell whatever body wash he uses, and if she had to guess, probably blue radox.
“No, I didn't say I wanted you to go. Stay…”
He doesn't say ‘please’ once, and yet she's able to hear the desperation.
When she doesn't move, his grip loosens, and she feels tingly all over when his hand slides up her arm.
“Can I kiss you again like last time?”
She almost smiles in adoration at how he asks it, but for the sake of saving him the embarrassment of thinking she's laughing at him, settles for a simple and gentle nod of her head. She is sure she's not really thought it through. Weighing up the pros and cons isn't exactly the first thing on her mind right now though as Michael has to bend significantly to crash his lips to hers.
Much like last time, he is a bit endearingly clumsy, his lips moving quickly on hers like he's running a race with his mouth. This time there is no pool table for him to cage her against, but all the same his legs take him forwards until her knees hit the edge of his bed.
By the time he is on top of her, she's managed to weave her fingers through his hair, her nose nudging against his glasses every now and then, and guiding him with her own movements to slow down and enjoy the moment, with no need to rush.
She knows that secretly he's probably just excited.
But this time, his hands are extremely active.
She's unable to help the breathy whimper between desperate kisses as he tentatively squeezes her thighs, not quite brave enough to go beneath the dress yet and drifting upwards to her breasts, touching and clutching fondly, as if any harsh grip or movement and she'll get up and leave.
He's still unsure, maybe even nervous, she can feel it.
It's here she realises that whether he is doing it subconsciously or not, she can feel the strained bulge at the front of his trousers rubbing up against the inside of her leg, probably chasing friction that feels too good for him to feel lucid.
“Can I see you…” he asks as his lips break away.
She doesn't even reply, she just complies, pulling the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders and the bra straps along with it. The position she's in making it near impossible to reach behind her.
If she could print his face in her mind as she pulled her dress down to her ribs, she would. He looks entirely mesmerised in adoration, and once the only thing covering her breasts is the thin material of her bra, Michael looks at her with an almost dream-like gaze. 
His hand moves before his mouth, or at least before he catches himself, “Is it oka-”
“Course..” she says far too quickly. 
All she can hear as Michael pulls the thin straps of her bra fully down her arms, exposing her breasts, is his breath, staggered and uneven. His hand easily covers one of her breasts, squeezing experimentally, his thumb gently drifting over her nipple and watching them stiffen to needy buds. 
She doesn’t need to look between them to see how hard he is, she can feel him against her thigh, where her dress has since ridden up to her hips. 
His glasses knock against her chest as he leans down, all-too-carefully covering her nipple with his tongue, like he is trying to print the taste of them to memory. 
There is an unconscious desire to press her thighs together, but she settles for rolling her hips, causing Michael’s voice to rumble against her chest where he mouths at her breasts. One hand forever stays at the one he isn’t paying lip service to, testing the weight and shape in his palms. 
It feels like all sensitivity has been turned up to 1000. He is so slow, so unsure, that every languid movement has every nerve feel as if it’s on fire. A selfish part of her wants him to go faster, so used to the fervent, almost rushing nature of who she’d been with before. It was never like this, borderline worshipping.
“Michael…” she breathes, rolling her hips against him experimentally, rewarded with a low whine from him.
She watched as her nipple slips from his lips in the most erotic manner she’d ever seen, before his clear eyes are on her again. 
“Is this okay? Am I doing something wr-”
“No,” she shakes her head quickly, “feels nice.”
Michael licks his lips, a sign of how nervous he is, “Can I do something else?”
He is so eager to please, to learn, that looking at his face as he asks she can hardly deny him. And her head moves without effort, nodding as she watches his hand disappear beneath the hem of her dress to pull her tights down her legs. 
It then becomes obvious what he wants to do. 
“Are you sure, I-”
“I’m sure.” he adds, rolling the black nylon down her legs until all that is left between Michael and her bare skin below her hips, is her underwear. A flush of embarrassment engulfs her face at the thought of how aroused she might be, knowing he has no experience, she doesn’t want to scare him off. The tender and yet needy way he’d mouthed at her breasts had her body all warm, and she can’t remember the last time she’d been this ready for anything.
“I just want to do the same for you as you did for me. Make you feel good.”
And that certainly doesn’t help that feeling either.
She’s not sure if she will get tired of the sight of his long, lithe fingers gripping her thighs apart, and for a moment she finds herself entranced by the view, until he is pressing sweet kisses to the inside of them. Open-mouthed, with an addictive cooling sensation when he pulls away, only to edge closer to the centre of her underwear.
Her breath remains stuck in her chest as she watches him navigate the female body, mapping it out in his head. She knows better than to say anything, knowing him as she does now, he is immensely competitive, and wants to get things right. It’s likely if she stepped in to instruct him, it would only embarrass him more. So she stays quiet, and lets him come to her.
His thumb dips beneath the leg hole of her underwear, “Can I?”
She swallows visibly, now for some reason it’s her being the nervous one. Possibly because the first time, it was her doing something for him. And now, it is very much the feeling of being studied, of being watched to see what made her tick. A feeling that has her desperate for some kind of fulfilment. Anything.
She lifts her hips to help him slide her underwear down her legs, her cheeks warming at being so utterly exposed to him herself for the first time. There is a finality to it that she just can’t quite put into words. A point of no return.
A full body shudder made its way through her when she felt his thumb trail across the spot where her leg met her hip, trailing the line there that led to her sensitive womanhood.
Michael looked as if he was being presented with an equation, she could practically hear the thoughts in his head. But beyond not entirely knowing what to do, it didn't dissuade his curiosity.
She could tell though, that he didn't know what to do.
Michael nearly flinched when she took his hand, encouraging his thumb to touch her bundle nerves hidden between her folds. 
She watched him as his thumb cautiously collected the wetness that had begun to come out of her and used it to gently apply pressure to her clit. Breath was hot in her chest  as he started slowly.
“Does that feel good?” He asked softly.
As soon as she nodded, confirming how pleasurable it was, Michael's first reaction was to go faster. And so he did. Like he was trying to light a fire.
“No, no, no, it's fine to go slow.”
“Shit, sorry…”
“It’s fine,” she smiled, “just more gentle.”
The panic on his face had been clear. But at her gentle instruction, she saw him relax, taking her words and applying gentle pressure in slower, tighter circles. And it seemed Michael was now fully aware of its intended effect, as his eyes were able to lift up to hers underneath the rim of his glasses to see her breathing had increased, and blood rushing to her cheeks. 
It felt incredible to watch his expressions, she thought. Seeing the little thoughts rattling around in his head, to be able to awaken something in him for the first time. But it also felt utterly exposing, and every time his thumb drew circles against her clit, she heard the soft click of her arousal that made the room feel as if she were inside an oven. 
Michael’s lips parted, his head moving as if pulled by an invisible string to her core.
“Can I…?” he asked again, but more uncertain this time. 
The anticipation gnaws so much at her skin, combined with the way he is taking his time that she has become somewhat impatient, so it’s completely involuntary when she nods her head and somehow manages a whispered ‘yes’.
She doesn't really, really know what's wrong with her. She's had head before. But when he dives between her thighs so quickly and eagerly, his thumbs almost pulling her skin gently to expose as much of her as he can, and swiping his tongue over the centre. From her entrance, all the way to her bundle of nerves.
It has her breath stuck in her chest, instinctively reaching down to run her fingers through his sandy hair. Even the slightest tug on it has a low groan vibrating through her where his mouth moves slowly against her.
“Michael…”
At first he is careful, taking the instruction she'd given him before and applying it to tasting her instead. But his eyes flit up to her when she breathes his name like that, so he redoubles his efforts, gripping the underside of her thighs to tug her towards him in a teasing rhythm.
She didn't really know what to expect, assuming he hadn't done anything like this before. But Michael seems eager to please, as he nudges between her sensitive folds to tease her entrance with his tongue, the sharp shape of his nose butting against her bud with every movement, as little as it is.
With one hand in his hair, her hips move against his face, the glasses perched on his face hanging askew. And all she can see is that his eyes are closed as he tastes her, every now and then he makes a noise between a whine and a moan, as if he didn't want the experience to end.
Dragging his tongue back up to her bud to focus his attention there, Michael experimentally slides one long, slender digit easily inside her, pleased at the breathy sound it seems to elicit from her. Two feelings at once, just as she'd given him before.
“Oh, shit-” 
He fights the urge to smirk when he hears that. She's so warm and wet, that it's easy to slide in the second, feeling her walls suck him in as they clamp around his fingers moving in and out of her. It's a feeling he couldn't describe if he tried, and he daren't think of what she'd feel like around his cock, or if she'd let him.
She can feel her stomach muscles tightening, an orgasm bubbling up to the surface when he gains confidence, flicking her swollen clit with his tongue and pistoning two fingers with a pornographically wet smack into her over and over. Brushing that sweet spot inside that he manages to find sometimes, seemingly without realising.
“Michael - fuck - I'm gonna-”
He groans as her fingers tug at his hair, her hips grinding herself against him and chasing that delicious friction as her high barrels through her, sparking pleasure down each notch of her spine until it fizzles out through her limbs.
She can feel Michael grinding himself against the bed, searching for his own, as he maintains his actions, lapping up everything she gives him with determination. When she dares to look down at him, as if he can sense it, his eyes open to watch her expression, the blue of his eyes nearly entirely eclipsed by black.
As if something had been awoken in him that even he couldn't recognise he'd wanted.
With one last swipe of his tongue over her centre, Michael withdraws his fingers, gripping her thigh with them and making the skin there glisten.
Her cheeks feel as if they're on fire when he rights himself to his knees before her, looking down at her with admiration at how she is still essentially half naked. The tightness at the front of his jeans makes it obvious how he felt about what he'd just done.
Engrossed by watching her breasts move as she breathes heavily, the slight shimmer of sweat on her collarbones, Michael raises his hand to his face, using his palm to wipe her slick from his lips and chin.
She breaks the silence with a tired laugh when he pushes his glasses back up his face, one half of the lenses completely fogged up. It prompts him to laugh too.
“Was I okay?”
This time she doesn't hold back her smile at the way he asks it. As if she hadn't just shaken with the force of her high all over his face.
She nods, “More than okay.”
He seems genuinely relieved.
She bites her lip as she looks at him, his cheeks all tinged pink, his mind reeling at what they'd just done.
He doesn't know what to say or do, and she can see it.
“Do you fancy having a girlfriend, Michael?” she asks.
“Uh…I've never had one, not properly anyway.”
“Yes, but would you like one?”
She watches the bob of his Adam's Apple as he swallows heavily, “Y-yeah…”
She pushes herself up to meet him where he's knelt, admiring his features for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss him, encouraging him to kiss her back. It takes a second for him to respond, but when he does, it's needy, teeth and tongues clashing as the musky taste of her is captured on him.
“Tell you what, after your exams, when you can relax, I'll be your proper girlfriend. In every way..”
His breath comes out shuddered against her lips, “what do you mean?..”
She wets her lips as she smirks, “I think you know exactly what I mean, Michael.”
She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of seeing him blushed and bothered.
And when they're both dressed, sharing awkward giggles and nervous kisses, she gives him a look with a cock of her head as he checks his wall-mounted Countdown-themed calendar.
“What you looking for?”
“My last exam is the 15th. There's exactly 12,246 minutes between now and then and all I'm going to be thinking about is whether you'll really be my girlfriend or not.”
She nearly smiles at the fact he does the maths so quickly. 8 days, 12 hours and 6 minutes until his last exam. And even though she's made it clear she wants him, he's still unsure.
She meets his gaze, unable to hide the grin off her face, “Better get studying then. You've only got 12,245 minutes left until you've got me.”
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General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian@randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya@urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy
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cithaerons · 2 years
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maybe if i start closing everything out and shutting down the computer at night it will stop freezing up like this? i s2g
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pasta-rask · 2 years
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My computer might have finally bit the dust 😭
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artsytheimaginative · 2 months
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Yandere 404 x Fem! Reader
Monster X Mediator(It is a visual novel game made by HeadLocker, which I downloaded itch.io on my Macbook) (Idk why I cannot find HeadLocker in my account but only in the website version where YouTubers send the link in their description as I can get in and comment there which was weird... Anyway, let's not focus on my problem.)
Since it was released 3 days ago on itch.io, I wanted to write the fanfic just for you and myself.
It's a brand new game, I didn't see tons of ppl post fanfics about this game so I need to post it anyway! :D
This fanfic will be a headcanon then. If you don't know who is 404, I suggest you play the game by yourself and then come back and read my fanfic to avoid spoiler alerts.
I have no idea what 404's real name is. So I would just call him Nick or 404. His account's username is called "NauxAxe_404" in the game. So that's why I want to call him Nick or 404. Since MC wrote Nick(Idk if he is Mc's OC or not but let's say it is) in their stories 404 thought Nick was himself. He has a nickname, "YOUR BIGGEST FAN" a.k.a he is your hugest fan. Ok, if you're ready to read it, let's hop into it! The picture below is what 404 looks like.
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P.S. The picture above is the outside of this hotel where you go in. :D
Once I entered the hotel, the walkie-talkie let out a voice and told me to persuade all 4 monsters to vacant their rooms.
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The mysterious anonymous voice from the walkie-talkie seems to finish their sentence and end the call. I sighed and looked at the surroundings around me.
There were 2 doors on the left side of the wall. As well as the 2 doors on the right side. The front doors in front of me might belong to someone unknown. I shook my head stopped wasting time thinking about it and decided to get closer to the red sign hanging on the door named "Red Room001"
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I chose to enter the room itself before I took a breathing exercise to calm myself down 1st.
"Ok, Y/N. I need you to be chill... 1...2...3... Breath in... and out..." "Great job, me!"
I exhaled my breath twisted over the doorknob and stepped inside the room as the door behind me shut itself automatically and locked. I have a bad feeling about this...
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The room was filled with messiness, it was really filled with red-themed wallpapers and lots of paper stabled or stuck onto all the walls.
Apparently, there's no monster in here. Not even a single one! How peculiar... Did that walkie-talkie voice pranked me?
THAT FRICKING BASTAR- A heavy swing of an object hit behind my head and I felt dizzy and had a sense of headache. My train of thought went kaboom!
I felt my whole body collapsed on the floor lifelessly. My vision became blurred and fainted as it turned into a void.
Is this what being knocked out feels like?
⏩️⏩️⏩️⏩️Time Skip⏭️⏭️⏭️⏭️
I woke up and held my head tight as I didn't expect that I was still alive. I thought I would be dead soon but no... Well god saved my life! Thank God!
“Ouch... What happened to me? Where am I?" I mumbled to myself as I winced in pain.
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Suddenly, a booming bassy voice spoke. "Ah... You're finally awake. My only Superstar..." Holy pie! Who the hell is this dude!?
Is he the one who knocked me out!?
When I stood up and looked up at him, shit! He's really a giant like 222cm tall!
Am I in Attack On Titan or something!? What the flip is going on here!?
The giant stared at me with mesmerized and gave me a sense of a creepy look. He chuckled and continued to speak.
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for to meet you in person... My Superstar..."
"Your smile... Is so precious... Cute... Your petite size was perfect for me to carry you in my arms... Pfhaaaa... Your voice is so irresistible to ignore... You are very weak yet adorable... I love you... I don't think I can handle it anymore... Pfhaaa... No... I need to have self-control for my only Superstar and become her gentleman... I need to calm down... I know I looked scary to you, but please please please don't hate me or leave me alone... My life will be meaningless without you... It hurts to see you go away... I think you will be shocked that I fell in love with you when I 1st saw your blogs posted in Dumblur... Hahahahahahahahaaha... However... The worst thing that you did to me was... block me... It's so... unfair... How could you do this to me!? I poured all of my effort into showing my love to you and you broke my heart bit by bit..." He sobbed while holding me close and stared at me with his teary eyes.
He was shaking his huge hand and caressed my soft cheeks gently.
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