#been able to do a lot of thinking while I'm at work so... brain has been in overtime

[tea-cat-arts]

I simply think this fandom doesn't give Wei Wuxian enough credit for the various ways in which he saved Lan Wangji

[pekoeboo]

man. I've been reworking a lot of content involving Act II of Home Is Where You Are and like. ugh. it'd work so freaking well in novel form but I just Do Not have the dedication or the drive to start from scratch and rewrite everything that happens.

idk how else to share the updated version of that part of the story with y'all tho, considering that Khalan's journal is insanely outdated now and isn't entirely canon anymore, so I'll probably just have to accept that I likely won't ever be able to update the story for y'all in the way I wish I could. >n<;;

[morimess]

i keep seeing songs on TT that remind me of Linebeck...and I don't...really know how to feel about it.

[moondane-lovers]

Thought about metas and overall purposes/themes in each of my ships, so-

Pluto/Guldo: Finding peace in the distance your ambitions have helped you reach while accepting the life you are given. Sometimes being alive with people who make you happy is the endgame you are satisfied with. Living is beautiful, enjoy it with people who love you.

I'm alive! What else matters? I can work with this. I'm alive!

Pluto/Spandam: Forcing yourself through the darkest times of your life regardless of how much progress is made, if any at all. One day you will realize that the light at the end of the tunnel is getting closer, and you aren’t alone in this cave. Identity is not something to be changed and suppressed, there is someone who will bloom with you, regardless of your journey.

I refuse to die. I won't fucking die. One day I will breathe air that my lungs will accept. We will do it together.

Pluto/Augur: Find power in powerlessness and take back the narrative of your life and self, even if that authentic self comes to you in your darkest moments. Stagnant safety will keep you alive in the moment but will kill you down the line. Freedom may kill you at any moment, but you will truly live. The strangest people may be your people, and you deserve to find them. You are as precious to them as they are to you.

The ride is rough, but I have to stay on it. If I had gotten off, I would never have met the people who made it so much more manageable. Where will we go next?

[ellieputellas]

guilty as charged | a.putellas

— Alexia was the perfect roommate. Well, except for one fatal flaw: she always lost your chargers. Fed up, you searched her room, only to find something you definitely weren’t supposed to see.

Tags: 18+, mdni, roommate!Alexia, dom!Alexia (kinda), strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, biting, impliedfuckboy!Alexia, slightly long build up before the smut content, tldr: finding Alexia’s strap and not being able to get it out of your mind, not proofread | wc: 6k+

masterlist | do not repost or plagiarize!

"Alexia!" You shouted at your roommate who was taking too long in the bathroom. "Where's my charger? I thought I told you to buy your own already."

"Espera!" The Catalan called back out to your frustration, still taking her sweet time in the showers.

"Rich as fuck but can't afford to buy her own charger," you muttered under your breath.

Alexia had developed a habit of leaving her chargers in the locker room or lending them out to her teammates, forgetting to get them back. And, instead of buying her own replacement, she had been relying on your generosity and kindness.

At first, you were cool with it. After all, Alexia has always been a generous roommate — buying you new shampoo whenever you were running low, ordering dinner for your weekly movie nights, and always buying wine for you two to share. So, naturally, you had no problem sharing your charger once in a while. You even decided to buy Alexia her own charger — the fancy kind that charged ultra fast. It cost you a bit more than the average phone charger would but you figured it was just your way of saying thanks for her generosity.

She lost that too. Within just a few days.

So, she resorted back to borrowing yours. And while it was just mildly irritating at first, it only got fully annoying when she started walking into your room while you weren't there, taking your charger and even bringing it with her to training. Without even asking. She just assumed you’d be fine with her borrowing it.

It was always a different excuse every time she lost it. 

"Oh sorry, I left it at my locker."

"It's somewhere in the car… I think."

"I think I already returned it."

You tried not to let it get to you, thinking that getting pissed over something so shallow was too petty and childish.  But you needed your iPad to do your work, and for that iPad to function, it needed to be charged… which was impossible to do if Alexia kept treating your chargers like they were disposable. 

"God," you groaned as you stared at the wall clock, feeling antsy about a deadline. "Alexia! Can't you just tell me where it is?"

"Espera! I'm still washing my hair." She said with an annoyed tone which just annoyed you even more. How is she the one getting annoyed? She’s the one who lost it again.

"Fuck it, I'll get it myself." You groaned under your breath before rifling through her stuff with zero patience. “Where the fuck did she put it?”  

Annoyed, you yanked open the drawer built into the side of her bed frame. Unlike the other drawers with things haphazardly thrown in, this one had its contents neatly folded beneath a thin blanket. Without thinking about why the blanket was there in the first place, you pulled it back and froze.  

That’s when you saw it right in front of you: a massive, light pink dildo strapped to a harness Your brain short-circuited. You weren’t exactly prudish or conservative; you had your own vibrator tucked away in your panty drawer. But this? This was… a lot.  

Your eyes darted over the rest of the drawer. Bottles of flavored lube. Handcuffs. A ball gag. A various selection of dildos and vibrators. On top of it rested the huge pink strap-on you first saw, the cherry on top to this kinky mix. Who knew your polite, friendly roommate was this —

“What are you doing?”  

Your soul left your body as soon as you heard Alexia calmly inquire behind you. You spun around, heart hammering. Alexia stood in the doorway, fresh from the shower. She was clad in nothing but a sports bra and a towel slung low on her hips. Her hair was damp from the shower, hanging by the side of her face, dropping beads of water down her wide shoulders and further down her glistening abdomen.

“I—I was looking for my charger,” you stammered nervously, standing up from your crouched-over position. You straightened yourself, wiping the beads of sweat on your forehead and straightening your shirt. “I couldn’t find it and I’ve got a deadline today and... and you know how much I need it.”

You stumbled upon your words, causing Alexia to raise an eyebrow in amusement. You cleared your throat, trying to seem unbothered by what you just saw. “This is just like… the sixth or seventh charger that you haven’t returned.” You said, trying to steady your voice.

Alexia’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as her gaze flicked to the cabinet you’d so carelessly left open. She didn’t look embarrassed or pissed. Not even remotely phased. Just… amused. “Right,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s literally right there.”  

She nodded toward the direction of the chair in front of her work desk placed at the corner of the room. Sitting on top of her iPad, plain as day, was your charger.  Heat rushed to your face. How had you missed something so obvious? You could have just swept the room first. Instead, you’d snooped immediately through her drawer and discovered she was some kind of sexual deviant. 

“Oh,” you squeaked.  Without another word, you lunged for the charger, swiftly grabbing it. You gave a tight-lipped smile to Alexia before holding it up just to show her you got it.  It took everything in you to only look at your roommate from the head up, not allowing your gaze to lower down to her bare torso. You were never flustered like this around Alexia. She was often sauntering around the house in just a sports bra and workout shorts; it never bothered you… until now. “I guess I just missed it.”

You spun on your heel and bolted for your room, shutting the door behind you. Pressing your back against it, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.  “What the fuck did I just see?”  

Alexia found it cute how flustered you acted after the incident.

She had always been careful about her intimate life. When living with roommates, she never brought girls home, never let her personal indulgences spill beyond the walls of her bedroom. It was a part of her life she preferred to keep discreet and private. Though, at times, it wasn’t easy.

She briefly recalled the short period when she roomed with Marta during the pre-CGH days, when her co-captain was still single. Keeping that side of herself hidden had been a challenge, especially when they were sleeping just a few feet apart, separated by non-soundproof walls. Bringing girls home had become a strategic endeavor, timed around Marta’s schedule, because Alexia was very aware that her extracurricular activities weren’t exactly… quiet.

After years of having roommates, Alexia thought maybe it was time she stopped sharing her space. She was earning enough to live alone, and most of her teammates no longer needed to split rent either. It had seemed like a natural step forward.

Then you came along.

You were the team’s new graphic designer, originally working for the men’s team until the club restructured and brought in a new agency to replace your old role. That shift had introduced you to the women’s squad, and Alexia had taken an interest in your work almost immediately. At first, you chalked up her attentiveness to her captain’s duties; it was something you presumed was to be expected of Alexia. 

But then she did something you never saw coming.  

When the team heard you might have to quit — your apartment was full of black mold, and finding an affordable place nearby on short notice was impossible — Alexia made you an unexpected offer. She had a spacious place with two bedrooms and didn’t mind charging you below market value, making it the perfect solution.

You had understood what a big gesture that was for her. What you hadn’t known was just how much she had given up by letting you move in.

Her newfound freedom was gone. She could no longer bring girls home on a whim, given your unpredictable work modality schedule. Late-night hookups were practically impossible when you were always up until ungodly hours, hunched over your iPad in the living room, working on some random side gig. 

Alexia knew that you two were old enough to understand that sex was a part of life and that bringing home girls shouldn’t be a thing to be ashamed of. But she knew that her situation was different. It wasn’t that simple

Still, she didn’t mind. She liked having you around far more than she missed fucking around.

Though you having found her stash did have her thinking that probably she treated it far more taboo than what it was. So what if she liked loud, unrestrained sex that could last for hours? It wasn’t like it happened every night. And surely, you had a few toys of your own tucked away in your room.

Maybe this could be an opportunity — a way for you to start accepting that your roommate simply… enjoyed being active.

So, she tried opening up the subject. While you two were cooking your respective dinners, Alexia tried casually asking you if you remembered what you had seen in her cabinet. You were so startled you nearly cut your finger instead of a potato.

While you two were on the drive back from work, Alexia tried to engage you in a conversation about sex but you pretended to have a bad stomach, making fake groaning sounds to pretend you couldn’t hear what you were saying.

Honestly, Alexia should have been frustrated by your immaturity, by your outright refusal to discuss something so simple like an adult. But she couldn't fully get annoyed with you ever... and it was because of the massive crush she had on you.

Alexia always found you cute. She liked your quirky mannerisms and the way you made her laugh even if you didn’t intend to. She liked your work ethic; she always valued people who took their job seriously. It didn’t help that you were always walking around the house in very tiny shorts with silly cartoon designs that always caught her eye. 

Her attraction to you had only grown the closer you became. You were naturally affectionate with her, always touching her in small ways — a hand on her arm, leaning against her shoulder, sitting on her lap whenever the squad was around and there weren’t any seats. You never seemed to mind being touchy with her.

A part of her knew that maybe she didn’t mind not bringing girls home because… well, she had you. Your company and presence meant more to her than casual sex ever could. That didn’t mean, of course, that she wouldn’t have you if you let her.

There were nights when she had to physically stop herself from suggesting a friends-with-benefits arrangement. She valued your friendship too much to risk it over something so fleeting; she wasn’t about to fumble a great friendship just because she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. Besides, after seeing how you squirmed at the mere mention of sex, she knew you'd never go for something like that.

…Or would you?

You were hunched over your iPad, rushing to finalize a mock-up for new merch designs. The design head thought that since you managed social media, you might as well help out with merch design too. It made no sense to you but she had drilled into you that it was crucial you got it done by today. You wouldn't have been so annoyed by a task outside your job description, if only the assignment wasn't given a day before the deadline.

Hence, why you were stressed-out and aggressively illustrative design mock-ups on your iPad. It was already midnight and you were expected to report to work at 9 in the morning. It was just too little time.

And then, just as you were adding the final details, your iPad screen went black. The device shut off.  When you tried pressing the power button, hoping it was just an accidental press that put the device to sleep, it displayed the dreaded low battery logo. 

“Fuck!” you cursed, slamming your Apple Pencil onto the desk. You let a frustrated groan rip through your chest. You knew the battery had been low, but you had been so deep in the work that you ignored all the low battery notifications. 

Great, now the momentum is gone, you thought. 

Fine, whatever, you said to yourself. You just needed your charger. You pushed back from your desk and marched to your room, heading straight for the spot where you knew you had left it, which was right on top of your makeup bag.  

Except… it wasn’t there.  

Frowning, you checked your drawers. Nothing. Your bag? Not there. You even looked under your bed, as if it had somehow magically fallen and rolled into hiding.  And then it hit you. Alexia had borrowed it again earlier this morning with the promise that she'd return it instantly.

You grew frustrated. In the past days, you haven’t really been angry or emotional around Alexia and it was mostly because you felt awkward about the drawer incident. But now, all you could think of was how fucking annoying it was that this happened again. 

She knew how important your charger was, how often you needed it for work. And yet, she had forgotten to return it again on deadline night of all nights. Adrenaline pumping, you stormed toward her room, fists clenched. Without hesitation, you pushed the door open.  

“Alexia, where the hell—”  

Your words caught in your throat.  

Alexia stood in the middle of her room, dressed in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of loose shorts that showed off the top of her Calvin Klein underwear, mid-stretch, her toned stomach and arms on full display.  

You blinked, caught completely off guard.  

For a moment, you forgot why you were even there. Then, you shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. “Alexia, give me back my charger.”  

She didn’t even flinch at your tone. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing on her face. “Oh? Someone seems mad.”  

You groaned. "I'm not just mad, okay?" You corrected. "I'm fucking stressed. I have a deadline for a task that isn't even part of my job's jurisdiction and I've been working all night on Blender and Procreate and —"

You paused to take a breath. "I just had enough, okay?" You said more calmly. “I just need to finish this right now but I can't cause you took—"

Alexia tilted her head. “I took your charger?”  

“Yes?" You said incredulously. 

Her brow lifted slightly. “I returned it earlier today.”  She said. "Remember? At breakfast? I even fixed you a bowl of chocolate oatmeal as a thank you?"

You frowned, momentarily thrown off. “What?”  

“I borrowed it this morning, but I gave it back before you left to work at that café.”  

And just like that, it clicked.  

Fuck. 

You probably didn't notice Alexia returning it cause you were too busy working. Suddenly, you remember you had taken it with you. You had plugged it in at the café, worked there for hours, and then… left without it.  

Your anger deflated instantly, replaced by embarrassment. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, feeling your face heat up.  

“Oh.”  

Alexia let the silence stretch just long enough to watch you squirm, then let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll let that one slide.”  

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Sorry, Alexia. I’m just—”  

“Stressed,” she finished for you. Then, her voice softened. “Cariño, don’t be. I’ll talk to your boss tomorrow and make sure you get another day. I’ll just put the blame on me.”

She smiled, stepping forward. "They can't say no to me."

Before you could react, Alexia stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her by the waist, offering a small hug to comfort you. You exhaled, tension still buzzing in your body.  

“Okay,” you mumbled, leaning into her. “I'm sorry for storming all mad and accusatory like that.”  

“I know,” she murmured. “Why don’t I give you a back rub?”  

You hesitated, but your muscles did ache from hours of work, hunched over a table and stressed beyond belief. Your shoulders were practically begging to be rubbed. “…Fine.”  

Alexia guided you toward the bed, settling herself against the headboard while she sat you in between her legs with your back resting against her. The second her hands found your shoulders, thumbs pressing firmly into the knots of tension, you exhaled a slow breath.  

“Oh,” you muttered, eyes fluttering shut. “Alexia, yeah, that feels good.”  

She hummed in response, continuing to knead the stiffness from your shoulders. Her hands were firm yet gentle, and before you knew it, your body melted into her touch.  She rubbed into your shoulders at the perfect firmness, finding where the knots were on your upper back and shoulders before massaging them away. 

“Mmm,” you murmured. "Fuck, that's so good."

Alexia’s hands moved lower, moving from your upper back and shoulders area to something more in the middle of your back. Alexia's hands kneaded the tension from your back, her fingers expertly working under the shoulder blades. You let out a slow exhale, sinking into the warmth of her body behind you.  

“Let’s take off your cardigan,” she murmured, her voice smooth, low. “It's getting in the way.”  

You nodded absentmindedly, already half-lost in the sensation of her touch. You were practically floating in the sensation, only to be snapped out by the sensation of her arms grazing your chest as she unbuttoned your cardigan. You bit your lip as her fingertips grazed against your nipples as she helped you shrug off the cardigan. The contact was fleeting— perhaps, accidental — but it was enough to send a sharp jolt through you. 

Your breath hitched, and you hummed, trying to brush off the growing heat in your core. 

Alexia continued the massage, but this time, as one hand stayed firm on your shoulder, the other drifted lower, her fingers ghosting over your left nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but your body reacted instantly. You jumped slightly at the sensation.

Alexia leaned in, her lips grazing your ear. “Relax,” she whispered in a low voice, her breath warm against your skin. "This is gonna help you release all tension. Trust me."

You hesitated, pulse quickening, but you didn’t stop her. You let yourself sink back against her, allowing it to happen. Her touch grew bolder. Soon, both hands were on your chest, the pads of her fingertips rubbing slow, teasing circles over your hardened nipples, the friction from the fabric of your shirt only heightening the sensation. A quiet moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it.  

Alexia smirked at your reaction. "Yeah, just relax and let go." She cooed in an innocent tone as if she was still massaging your back. Now, Alexia's fingers moved deliberately, alternating between rolling your nipples between her fingertips and slightly pinching at them, coaxing more breathy sounds from you. Your head soon rested back against her shoulder, and she took the opportunity to press a slow, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.  

A soft hum vibrated against your skin. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”  

You swallowed hard, your body answering for you as you let out another shaky moan. Alexia's mouth was on you again, gently kissing and nipping at the delicate skin of your neck as you felt her hands slowly move under your shirt. 

You whimpered her name as you felt her fingers against your bare skin, running against them. Alexia smirked at the way you were reacting and quickly agreed to letting her touch you like this.

Before you could even realize, Alexia was reaching under a nearby pillow. Under it, she had a toy she left from her own masturbation session last night. If your eyes were opened, you would have probably chickened out at the sight of the neon pink massage wand but you were too busy enjoying Alexia's playful, little massages. 

Soon, Alexia had slotted in the head of the toy in between your legs, pressed against your soaked pajama shorts. She clicked the on button and you practically moaned out instantly. Your eyes opened but before you could say anything in protest, Alexia shushed you. "It's just a massage wand. It'll help you loosen up."

You were a smart girl. You knew what Alexia was doing and normally, you would have called her out but tonight… Tonight, you were exhausted. You were tense. And with the way her hands had been working over your body, the way the vibrations of the wand had begun to hum softly against your core, the fact that you've spent the past few days fantasizing about what it would be like to experience the Alexia Putellas…

You found no reason to stop her.

“…Okay.”

Your voice was soft, almost breathy, and it sent a visible shiver through Alexia. She loved hearing you like this: so obedient and pliant, so willing, so cute when you agreed to let her touch you.

She pressed a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear before murmuring, “Now, be a good girl and take off your bottoms for me, okay?”

You didn't hesitate, swiftly lifting your hips to push your bottoms off of you, kicking them off with your legs. Alexia put a hand firmly under your left thigh, pulling you closer to her. With her right hand, she put the toy back against your core, sending a wave of vibrations that had your legs trembling.

Alexia's left hand was back in your left breast, pinching at them to elicit tiny and cute moans that she loved so much. You unconsciously rocked your hips against the toy, seeking to chase out the pleasure, praying Alexia would turn up the speed so you could arrive at your orgasm sooner.

As you whimpered, gripping the sheets beneath you, Alexia carefully removed the toy from between you. “W-what?” you stammered, your mind foggy from the pleasure coursing through your body.

Alexia’s hand on your waist tightened slightly. “Last night… when you fell asleep on the couch…" she paused, teasingly. "You were whimpering.”

Your eyes snapped open, embarrassment crashing over you like cold water.

Shit. You had dreamed about her again.

Before you could even attempt to defend yourself, Alexia chuckled, her breath warm against your skin. “That’s not even the best part.” She leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just beneath your jaw. “You dropped your phone on the floor — probably right before you dozed off." She murmured. “So, naturally… I picked it up.”

Your stomach twisted in mortification, and you didn’t even have to ask to know where this was going. Alexia hummed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Imagine my surprise when I saw what you were searching for.” Another soft kiss, this time against your shoulder. “How to ride a strap.”

A whimper escaped your throat as she increased the speed suddenly. At this point, your legs were shaking.

Alexia let out a quiet laugh. “I thought it was cute.” Her fingers were now teasing circles against your inner thigh, making you twitch. “And I know you’ve been stressed. High-strung. So instead of just teasing you…”

She suddenly pressed the vibrator against you again with more pressure, turning up the speed without warning. A loud, broken moan spilt from your lips as pleasure began to build inside you. Your head tilted back, resting your weight onto the Catalan, body arching into the sensation as Alexia guided the toy against you.

“There you go,” she murmured, watching in amusement as you squirmed, your thighs trembling against hers. She subconsciously licked her lips as she saw your wetness completely cover your core and inner thighs. “You’re making such a mess, cariño.”

You barely heard her, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure. It was too much, too good. It felt like at any moment, you were going to explode with pleasure. 

And then, just as you were about to orgasm, Alexia pulled the wand away again.

Your eyes flew open, a frustrated whine escaping your lips. “Alexia, what the fuck.”

“Shh,” she interrupted smoothly, putting aside the toy. “We’re just getting started.”

The next moments went by so quickly that you could not process how you managed to end up completely naked on top of Alexia who was now wearing the pink strap you saw from the other day around her waist, on top of her Calvin Klein underwear. You bit your lip as you straddled her upper thighs. It seemed like you were gaining consciousness now as you stared at the silicone member. It was long and girthy, shining slightly with the lube Alexia poured on it.

Alexia’s hands traced lazily on your legs and thighs. “Come on, show me what google told you to do,” she teased.

You bit your lip as you stared at the obscene size of the silicone, hesitating. “Alexia, I don’t think…”

Alexia sat up, grabbing your waist as she pressed a kiss on your mouth. “Shh, of course you can,” she reassured in between kisses. Her mouth felt so soft and warm against yours. The sensation of her mouth on yours was hypnotizing you again, making you feel soft and needy. It’s like her lips make me dumber, you thought to yourself.

Alexia shifted the position so you’d be laying on your back and she’d be slotted in between your spread legs, she continued to kiss you, knowing it was what you needed to not feel intimidated and hesitant. Soon, you could feel her hands stroke your inner thighs. “Why don’t I help you out,” she whispered. “Just so you wouldn’t be so shy, hmm?”

You nodded, obedient and docile under your roommate. Alexia locked eyes with you, breaking the kiss. A sigh escaped your lips as her warm hazel eyes met yours. It felt like you could melt into those beautiful, honey-colored pools.

You were so captivated by Alexia’s eyes that you didn’t notice that she had two fingers playing around your entrance, desperate to enter you.

You opened your mouth and let out a gasp as soon as two of her fingers thrust into you, deliberately with a careful firmness to them. Alexia smiled, eyes still fixed on yours, as she carefully curled them into you. The Catalan practically moaned at the feeling of you tightly clenched around her long and thick fingers.

“Fuck,” your voice came out softly as you felt yourself clench around her, soaking her fingers with your slick arousal. “I want more… please.”

That was all Alexia needed to hear. It was enough to send her over the edge. She started thrusting in and out of you with a faster, harder pace to it. You moaned out loud as you felt her fingers slam into you, curling every time into your sweet spot, causing you to arch your hips and grip onto her shoulders.

“Just like that,” Alexia muttered against your ear, her breath hot and uneven. “Let me hear you, cariño.”

Any sort of restraint you had left was gone. Your moans spilled freely as her fingers drove into you mercilessly, stretching you open, coaxing you toward the edge. You felt delirious, drowning in sensation, the heat between your legs unbearable.

Alexia couldn’t count the number of times she had touched herself to the thought of you like this — writhing, moaning, begging for her. But even her filthiest fantasies paled in comparison to the reality of you falling apart in her hands. You were so much more unbelievably stunning, intoxicating, and wrecked beneath her. No girl she's ever fucked before has gotten her this worked up. It was taking everything in her not to ruin you completely. She didn't want your first time to be too intense.

Her fingers worked you open with ease, curling inside you as her mouth traced a path of heat across your skin. She kissed and sucked at your neck, her tongue dragging along your collarbones before moving up to your jaw, nipping just enough to make you whimper.

But her favourite spot was the crook of your neck, right above your right collarbone, where she latched on and sucked hard, marking you. The second she did, you dug your nails into her back, moaning her name so loudly she knew the whole floor would hear but you were completely fucked out of your brains to even care.

You could feel Alexia’s smirk against your skin as she heard you moan out loud. She positioned her hand differently now so not only was she thrusting into you with two fingers, she was also rubbing your clit with her thumb. It was driving you insane.

Your thighs instinctively clenched around her hand, trying to slow her down as the pleasure was getting intense and you were growing sensitive. But Alexia wouldn’t let you control the pace or her movement. She pinned your hips down, forcing you to take everything exactly how she wanted.

“Take it,” she gritted, lips brushing against your ear. “If you try to press your legs together again. I swear to god I’ll stop right now.”

You acquiesced, trying to not fight the urge to clamp around her, desperate to get that orgasm. Alexia smiled as she pumped her fingers faster, readjusting her position and pressing her palm flush against your clit. Each thrust of her hand sent waves of pleasure crashing all throughout your body. The knot in your stomach coiled tighter, unbearable now, your entire body tensing.

Your roommate knew you were close, judging by your stuttered breathing and the way you were clenching tightly around her, but she knew she couldn’t let you cum yet. Not while she’s had the pleasure of letting you live out your fantasy.

Alexia pulled her fingers out of you, leaving you throbbing and empty and before you could even think to complain, she hooked her arms around your back and lifted you effortlessly. A small gasp escaped your lips as she shifted you back onto her lap, holding you steady against her hips, exactly where she wanted you.

“Ride me,” she said, her voice low and commanding. Her hands settled on your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin, grounding you. “Show me what you want to do to me.”

With your desperation to cum, there was no hesitation left in you. You nodded eagerly, obediently, as you squatted above the strap, your thighs trembling with anticipation. You hovered just above it, adjusting your position, but even as you took control of the movement, Alexia never relinquished her dominance. Her fingers tightened around you, her presence overpowering, making it clear that even though you were on top, she was still in charge.

You bit your lip, carefully making sure that you were lined up, but Alexia was growing impatient. With a strong grip, she held you steady and thrust upward, burying herself inside you with one smooth motion. The sudden intrusion knocked the breath from your lungs, your balance wavering as you instinctively grabbed onto the headboard for support. The head of the dildo pressed deep, almost kissing your cervix, causing you to curse and shut your eyes at the sensation.

You took a deep breath before lifting yourself slowly, feeling every inch of her slide against your walls, then sinking back down, your movements cautious at first.

Alexia watched you, her eyes dark and hooded, her grip possessive as she guided your pace. But it wasn’t long before her restraint wavered. As soon as she saw you settle into a rhythm, she met you halfway, thrusting up in perfect sync, pushing deeper, filling you more completely.

Your moans spilled freely from your lips as your body surrendered to her, the stretch overwhelming but intoxicating. “Fuck,” you gasped between gritted teeth, your nails digging into her skin as you kept balance. “You’re so big.”

Alexia smirked, dragging her hands up your sides before pulling you down harder onto her length. “Yeah?” she taunted, her voice thick with amusement and desire. “Too big for you?”

You could only nod, barely able to think, barely able to breathe, as she took back every ounce of control you thought you had. “Yeah, but it feels so good.” You said breathily. Even if you were already getting a bit winded, you knew you couldn’t stop now. Not while your orgasm was slowly building up inside you again.

Alexia moved one of her hands from your waist up to your breast, squeezing your plump breast firmly. She squeezed again at the sensitive bud of your nipple causing you to moan out again. She moved her hands back to settle behind you before she quickly sat up so that she could suck on your breasts while you continued to ride her.

The shift in her position caused the silicone member to curve into you, now pressing and grazing your sensitive spot with every bounce and thrust. Paired with the sensation of Alexia’s tongue skillfully playing and flicking against your nipples, it was surely sending you closer and closer over the edge.

You moved your hands to Alexia’s shoulders, giving you better mobility to ride her, breasts practically bouncing in front of Alexia’s face. She chuckled, sensing your desperation. She sat back up again, holding you upwards to keep your balance.

“Fuck, Ale,” you said, voice whimpery and erotic. You sounded almost obscene. “I’m so fucking close.”

Alexia moaned at the sound of your broken plea, her own arousal spiking as she felt the way you moved against her, grinding down harder, chasing your release with reckless abandon. “I know, baby,” she husked, her voice thick, hands tightening on your hips. “Just a bit more. Be good for me.”

You obeyed, but it was barely conscious — your body was on autopilot, instinct taking over as you rode her with increasing urgency. You felt yourself clench around her, your hips stuttering as the orgasm was slowly building up, causing you to clench. Thankfully, Alexia never loosened her grip. Even as your strength wavered, she held you firm, guiding you through it, her own body rising to meet yours. The shift in control was subtle but absolute; your arms wrapped around her tightly, your forehead pressing against her shoulder as you let her take the lead, her strong hands dictating your pace, her hips rolling upward, filling you over and over until you were unravelling completely in her hold.

Your moans grew louder, almost obscene and pornographic, echoing off the walls in a way that made Alexia smirk. If you kept this up, you’d both be getting a formal complaint from the condo association by morning. Alexia shushed you. “Cariño, I know it feels good but you need to quiet down.”

“Can’t–” you muster to say out, still moaning. Alexia groaned, torn between wanting to hear every filthy sound you made and knowing she had to shut you up before the neighbors got an earful. Thankfully, she got an idea.

“Baby,” she murmured between gritted teeth, punctuating her words with a sharp thrust that made you jolt. “Why don’t you bite my shoulder?”

You shivered at the suggestion, barely processing her words but nodding anyway, too far gone to argue.

“So no one gets mad at you for being such a good girl and riding me, yeah?”

That was all it took. You latched onto her shoulder, hesitant at first, lips parting against her sweat-slicked skin. But then she snapped her hips up harder, gripping your waist and bouncing you with ease, using her strength to fuck you onto her strap. The sudden onslaught made you lose control. Your teeth sank into her skin, muffling your moans into the muscle of her shoulder.

Alexia groaned out but the sting of your teeth pressing against her skin didn’t stop her or slowed down her pace. The pain felt like a motivation to get you where you needed to be. It didn’t take long. Alexia could feel by your shaking legs and the tightness of your grasp and the breathy moans you were exhaling into her skin.

“Come on, baby,” she rasped, voice strained as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “Give it to me.”

With only a couple more deliberate thrusts that pressed against your sensitive spot, you came undone, practically melting into Alexia’s arms.

It was a great idea for you to be biting against her or else your moan would have been heard throughout the whole building. Alexia held you through it, her hands steady, her grip firm, prolonging your pleasure as she slowed her thrusts, letting you ride it out. When your body finally sagged against her, she stopped the slow thrusting and wrapped her hands around you to form a hug, rubbing your back as she allowed you to breathe heavily against her skin.

You unlatched your mouth, a string of saliva forming from her shoulder to your mouth. You wiped at it sluggishly, still breathless, still full of her as she had not pulled out of you. Your forehead pressed against hers, the intimacy of the moment settling between you both.

“I forgive you,” you murmured, your voice hoarse, breath still uneven.

Alexia blinked, still coming down from the high. “Huh?”

“For stealing my charger.”

There was a beat of silence before Alexia burst into laughter, her breath mingling with yours as she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You hushed her, planting your lips on hers. "You still gotta make up for the seven or eight more you lost." You teased.

"I'll make it up a hundred times over if I have to." Alexia responded, a smirk toying on her face. "Just make sure you can take it."

It was gonna be a long night.

a/n: i feel like this is identical to all the other strap fics i've written but idgaf at least im writing again!!! anyway, still working on the longer fic and working on other ideas for shorter Alexia fics. i hope you guys still liked this AAAAAAA pls be nice

masterlist

[criminalyapping]

due for trouble | the world turned upside down

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

a/n: hamilton reference? in my fanfiction? more likely than u think... thank u for reading!!

warnings: age gap (reader is implied mid-20's, jack late 40's early 50's), language, unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion (not explicit)

< part 2 | part 4 >

Jack Abbot is going to be the death of you.

You've been trying, deperately trying, to initiate a very intimidating conversation with him about how you're pregnant with his child, but you haven't been able to. Not the last three times you saw him.

You were, to put it lightly, fucking like rabbits. Between your normal work schedule and his night shifts, there is about an hour that you're both free on a typical day. Now, Jack never makes it feel like he's only interested in you for sex, but just by necessity, it's kind of bing-bang-boom, thank you, I have to go to work when you see him. The night you met him and began your rendezvouz was a fluke, you have found out. A night off for him and a weekend for you.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily) there is another one of these special nights coming up. Jack has been waxing poetic about being able to take his time with you, have you spend the night, make breakfast, all of those things. All while you grin with the knowledge that that night will not go at all like he's expecting before you're gently ushered out the door so he can leave for work.

This lovely Friday night comes a lot faster than you've wanted, and you're in front of his door realizing that maybe you should have come up with a game plan for this conversation, but didn't. You knock on his door anyway.

You can hear his footsteps getting closer and closer to the door, the lock turning and about to open. You get closer and closer to turning around and running down the street.

Jack opens the door with a smile.

"Hey, kid," he greets, opening the door wide enough for you to step in.

"Oh my god, I'm pregnant," you blurt, the words falling out of your mouth before your brain has even realized you've said them.

"Jesus fucking christ," Jack grits out, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you into his entry.

He shuts the door loudly behind you.

"What?" he asks, looking stupefied.

You wave your arms around, letting your eyes flicker around the room.

"I don't know another explaination to give you!" you yell.

"Okay." Jack says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, okay, okay okayokay," he mumbles to himself. He grabs you by the shoulders and steers you into his living room, urging you to sit down on the couch. Jack is standing in front of you with his hands on his hips.

"Okay, you're pregnant." he says.

"Yup." you agree. "Also, sit the fuck down. You're not scolding me."

"Yes ma'am." he agrees sarcastically, but still moves to sit next to you on the couch.

"So," he starts, letting out a long, deep breath, "what makes you say that?" he asks.

"Well, I took a pregnancy test, a-" you get cut off.

"How many?" he asks.

"One." you tell him.

"There can be false positives, let's do another." he quickly says, immediately standing up.

"Not to mention," you gripe, pulling him back down to the couch, "that my period is about 3 weeks late, my tits have grown a full cup size and hurt so bad, and my skin is the worst its been since I was 14."

"Other stuff can do that, come on, up, let's go." Jack orders, now pulling you up from the couch.

"Got it, got it," you acquiesce, standing up and returning to the front door.

"When was the positive test?" he asks while pulling on his shoes.

"Hey, can you stop talking like a doctor to me and talk to me like Jack?" you say, raising your voice out of frustration.

Jack takes another deep breath, closing his eyes. His hands find your shoulders, and he slowly leans forward to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Let's go do another one, I'm serious about false positives, and then we can go from there. Okay?" he proposes.

"Fine," you agree.

An hour later, Jack is staring at another positve pregnancy test on his bathroom counter while taking a long sip from his beer. You've been staring at it in silence for 30 whole seconds. Time to diffuse the situation with humor, your favorite passtime.

"Hold on," you mumble opening your phone, "I need to sing Hamilton about this really quick,"

Jack laughs, grabbing your phone away from you and pulling you into a hug.

"No you don't, please," he says through his chuckle.

You giggle against his shoulder and let him rock you back and forth softly.

"The world turned upside down..." you sing softly, pulling another laugh from him.

"Alright, that's enough outta you," Jack says, picking you up and walking back towards his living room, accompanied by the loud, boisterous laughs you're shaking with. Mission accomplished.

"Soooooooooo," you start, looking at Jack. He just raises his eyebrows at you. "What now?" you ask.

He gives you an incredulous look, "I don't know?" he says.

"You're the doctor!" you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk like a doctor?" he asks sarcasically. "Lay down," he orders. You humor him and lay long ways on his couch as he stands up.

"Okay, miss, so you're presenting with a positive pregnancy test, correct?" he asks with faux seriousness.

"Yes," you agree.

"What is the last day of your last period?" he asks.

"Let me check," you murmur, pulling out your phone, "Uh, April 17th," you tell him.

Jack lets out a whistle.

"Okay, that puts you at," he starts, opening the calendar on his phone, "about 8 weeks, then." he says.

"Seeing as I've just opened this in-home clinic," he jokes, "I don't have an ultrasound machine at the ready, nor can I do a blood test. Why don't you tell me about your symptoms?" he prompts.

"Well, I feel about halfway to throwing up all the time," you start, "my boobs hurt, I get really light-headed sometimes, my skin is really bad, and I absolutely cannot stand the smell of a sink or towels anymore."

"Interesting, I haven't heard that last one before," he comments, "what does a sink smell like?" he asks.

"I'm gonna barf thinking about it, move on please," you request.

"Moving on," he agrees, "Now, ma'am, what birth control methods have you been using?" he asks.

"Jack, you know this," you sigh.

"Ma'am I have no idea about your proclivities in the bedroom, I am just a doctor," he retorts.

"Fine," you gripe, "I've been using condoms," you tell him even though he already knows.

"With all of your sexual partners?" he asks. You quiet for a moment, before taking a deep breath. You realize that while this doctor moment may have started silly, perhaps the clinical disconnection is allowing him to ask the questions he needs answered. You would be lying if you said that you weren't expecting a question like this, but it doesn't make it hurt you any less.

"Yes; there's only one." you tell him.

"Only one?" he clarifies.

"Yep." you repeat.

Jack clears his throat. "Okay, well then one of them must have failed. About 8 weeks ago." he says.

"Um," you start, "how does that happen, exactly?" you ask.

"Well, if they're very old, and maybe found at the back of the cabinet under the bathroom sink and was used without checking the expiration date, that could have caused it," he reveals with a guilty look.

You chuckle, "I knew it was your fault," you say gently, looking up at him.

He clears his throat again.

"Now, ma'am, would you like to discuss your options for moving forward?" he asks.

"Yes, but I'd like to talk to you about them, Jack, not doctor Jack," you request, tugging lightly at his pants to get his attention."

"Okay," Jack agrees, pulling your head up and sitting down on the couch, your head now in his lap as he looks down at you.

"Sorry, honey," he apologizes, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours, "I should have checked."

"It's okay," you accept, "hindsight is 20/20," you whisper.

"I'm sorry you're feeling so bad," he says genuinely.

"I'll survive," you joke. "What do you want to do, Jack?" you ask him.

"I think it's more about what you want to do," he replies.

"Ooo, that's where you're wrong," you tell him, "I think this has a lot to do with you. I don't want to be a single mom," you express, "but if I had a supportive and present baby daddy, then I think this might be fun." you reveal.

"Fun?" he clarifies, "we're talking about a baby here, not a game of checkers,"

"Old man," you laugh, "okay, maybe fun was the wrong word. But, I think it could be exciting, and wonderful, and maybe exactly what I want, could be." you emphasize. "But I'm not asking you to do anything you don't want to." you tell him.

Jack is silent, staring down at you in his lap.

"Okay," you say after a few moments, "how about you think about it? I don't want you to say anything you don't mean and end up regretting your choice." you tell him.

"I'm more worried about you regretting your choice." he argues.

"Well, the only way that would happen is if you say you'll do something and then don't, but I don't think that's the kind of guy you are." you smile.

"You haven't known me that long," he argues.

"Are you priming me so that I'll have your baby and then you'll fuck off and say that I should've known?" you ask him.

"No! Absolutely not!" he says, affronted.

"Then we're fine, Jack." you say, frustrated. "What are you thinking?" you ask him again.

"I'm thinking," he starts, slowly, "that I'll tell you that of course I'll be there, and I will, and then you'll end up regretting tying yourself to me like this." he reveals.

"Not gonna happen," you say, staring up at him earnestly.

"Okay, then." Jack says with a smile.

"Okay," you grin up at him.

[comicaurora]

Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?

I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.

So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.

What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.

Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.

So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.

So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.

I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.

[kozachenko]

Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!

Artist's Notes;

I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.

For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.

Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!

[turtlesandfrogs]

So, someone asked:

And truthfully, I have so much advice that it needs to be it's own post.

First off, let's set some background information: I have ADHD. I have really bad ADHD*, and that has an impact on executive functioning and thus the amount of work that can be accomplished during work time. HOWEVER! You do not have to have ADHD for this advice to be relevant for you. Often accommodations for one group end up working well for others, so just, like, keep that in mind, ok?

On ward!

Step 1: Have you met your mammalian needs? That is, have you had food (type of food matters, make sure you get some good protein, fats, carbs, and vegetables in you. You will not last long on coffee and a bag of candy), water, physical exercise, and ample sleep**? We are animals. We have to have these needs met, or we will not be functioning well. This is the ground work, the foundation of the ability to Do Stuff.

Addendum for those with executive functioning disorders (ADHD, ASD, probably others, I'm not an expert in mental disorders!): You need to make space in your life, EVERY DAY for things you enjoy. Do not limit them to "rewards" for after the task is done- you need things to be happy about in order maintain your mental well-being. Without happy-making things, you get depressed (well, a lot of us are co-morbid and need to keep an eye on that any way), and when you're depressed, you will not be functioning well. Depression literally robs you of energy. Doing things that make you happy is just as foundational as eating, drinking, and sleeping. Time with friends and loved ones, time with hyperfixations and special interests, hobbies, etc. You NEED them. They are prerequisite, not reward!

Step 2. Do physical activities daily. The more physical activity you do, the more you'll be able to do. Yes, there is a point at which it becomes too much, or a person tries to do too much too soon, but for the majority of modern humans in the US, increasing your physical activity will increase your energy levels and endurance. It also does good things for your brain (increased focus, increased learning ability, increased positive mood, etc). Find some activities that you enjoy- walking around the neighborhood and identifying plants and birds? SCA? Dancing? Stretching? Swimming? Biking? DDR? Pushups? Find something that you enjoy doing and can fit into your daily life. Also try to find things that strengthen muscles, maintain flexibility, and train balance.

Step 3. Reduce Cognitive load- and plan to do it before you start. The less you have to think about while you're working, the better. Thinking takes energy, and when you're working on a thing***, you want your energy to be going to that thing. Some things that may help:

Listening to music

Having a piece of paper where you write down any thoughts of things you need to do that aren't the thing you're doing right now.

Putting your phone on Do Not Disturb

Meditating first, so you can write down all those "AAAA! I need to do that!!!" thoughts on that paper mentioned earlier before you even try to work. I find that every time I try to meditate they all come bubbling up, so it's a great way to get them all written down first so they won't be distracting you while you're trying to work on your chosen task.

Set a timer, so that you're not thinking about how long it's been or if you need to stop and do something else.

Do some prep work before working to make the working easier. Like, are you cleaning out a doom room? Grab the garbage, recycling, and empty containers you need first. Are you writing a paper? Grab your snacks and hot beverages, and references, and have a plan for your break times before you sit down to write.

Step 4. Access what you need/want to do. Make a list. Look at the list. Do any of those things feel overwhelming? You need to address that:

can you break the tasks into smaller tasks?

do some of the tasks need preparatory work? Write that down on your list too

does a task have a hard part that is blocking you from progress? Can you do that first thing while you're at max energy? Can you break down that part into smaller parts? Can you get someone else to do it? Can you do it, and then schedule a break?

Step 5. Keep your 'Why' in mind. Why are you doing it? What is the core motivation, the driving force? Eg, "I'm cleaning my room because I feel better when my space is clear and organized, and it's a gift to my future self". Or maybe, "I'm writing this paper because (this topic interests me) or (because I want to get a good grade in this class and do well in school so that I can get a job that will support me in the future)". Some times it's not obvious at first why exactly you're doing a thing, but if you dig, there's probably a solid reason that is meaningful to you in there somewhere (even if it's just, like, avoiding late fees or something). If not, maybe don't do the thing?

Step 6. Take breaks. Breaks are legally mandated, at a minimum of 10 minutes every 2 hours where I am, but everywhere I've worked (except when I was a teacher) gave people 15 minutes every 2 hours. You know why? Because you get back from break with more energy. You also make less mistakes when you take regular rest breaks. You work more efficiently, and can work for longer if you take restful breaks. Just, like, don't do something that's taxing in the same way as the work you're doing. In other words, if you're writing, don't go read more things, get up and walk around the building instead. If you're doing physical labor, sit your tired bones down and consider looking at things that make you laugh or bring you joy.

Step 7. As you work, acknowledge to yourself your accomplishments, and celebrate them. The harder the thing is (or the harder it was to get started), the more important this is. You're training your brain to associate doing the work you want to do with good feelings. You are not that much more complex than a dog or pigeon. If you are mean to yourself, for example by thinking "dang, that was all? What's wrong with me that it took me 3 weeks/6 months/2 years to get started?" then you are effectively punishing yourself. Even a small tweak like "Dang, that's all? That's way easier than I thought it would be! Go me! I'm so glad that's over and I'm no longer suffering through procrastination!" makes a huge difference. Don't be mean to yourself.

Further suggestions:

8. If you have a hard time starting, use some ADHD strategies:

Tell yourself that you only have to work for 5 minutes (or 10, if that feels very doable), and then you can take a break. Set a timer, and at 5 minutes, check in with yourself. How are you doing? If you're doing good and want to keep going, do a quick stretching break, mentally praise yourself, and then get back to it. If not, stop, take a break and assess what you can do to make it better. Then get back to it.

Count down from 10 and start.

Bribe yourself: When I'm done, I'm going to take a hot bath. When I'm done, I'm going to go for a walk. When I'm done, I'm going to spend $300 dollars on houseplants. When I'm done, I'm going to ask for a hug. When I'm done, I'm going to play 6 hours of that new game. You know, what ever is reasonable and fits the scale of the project.

Get a body double/work buddy. They don't have to help you, they are just there, working on their own thing. For some reason this helps a lot of people.

Think about how much future-you will appreciate present-you for doing this task.

Take a second and write about the problem, why it's hard to start. Is there something else even more pressing that you need to take care of first? Have you not met all of your needs? Is there some element that you're avoiding thinking about for some reason? Can you address it?

9. Role play an effective person. Or a person that's good at the thing you want to do. Think of someone, ideally someone you know, who is good at the thing, and pretend you're them. Maybe someone you're slightly jealous of because of their ability to do the thing. What would they do? What would it look like? How would they feel internally while doing it? Just pretend you're them and look at the work through their eyes for a little bit.

10. Do you have sensory issues? Is your body comfortable? Are your clothes clean and nice feeling? Do you need to take a shower (or just wipe relevant bits with a wet washcloth)? Are the lights bright/dim enough? Is the air fresh or does it feel stuffy and stagnant? Are you hungry/sad/thirsty/tired/overwhelmed/etc? Can you address any of those factors?

11. Use usually negative personality traits. I'm not saying this is for everyone, but for some of us, it may be a useful tool when used cautiously. For example, I am a person who has a lot of anger. Obviously I have worked very hard to get better at managing my anger and reducing the sum total of hours I spend angry. HOWEVER, I am so good at cleaning when I'm furious. S,o maybe I pick a thing that I know will make me angry, and I think about it for a while, and then I have a lot more energy to clean the room.

12. Use positive personality traits. I also really enjoy making people happy. So sometimes if it's not enough to motivate me, I think about how happy whatever work will make someone else. That's probably the better, healthier option.

13. Are you trying to do too much? I want you to take an assessment of yourself and your energy and endurance levels. Think of what would use up 100% of your energy and endurance for the day. Got it? Ok, good. Now, don't let yourself go over 80%. At the max. Reduce your task list and responsibilities until you can comfortably get everything done with 60 to 80% of your energy and endurance. Why? Because if you're running at 100% all of the time, what happens when you can't? Because if you're running at 100% all the time, you will burn out. Because if you're running at 100% all of the time, if a small disaster happens, so much will collapse because you won't be able to do it all.

Because you're a human, and you deserve leisure time and rest and relaxation. Because you're a human, and you NEED leisure time and rest and relaxation.

14. Being mean, harsh, disapproving, and demanding of yourself is counter productive and WILL NOT work in the long term. Being kind, creating chances for you to learn new things, being grateful to your past-self, and giving yourself the things you need to be happy and healthy will.

* enough that the physiatrist commented on it, but I was home schooled until I went to college, and thus had no idea what ADHD was or that I had it until year two of my masters degree in teaching. I didn't get formally diagnosed until 29.

**ample sleep, here defined as allotting enough time to sleep that you wake up before your alarm clock on a regular basis. Not like, once a week you sleep in for however many hours in an attempt to make up for the rest of the week. No, I mean allotting enough time EVERY NIGHT that you wake up before your alarm 90% of the time. It doesn't count if you're waking up because of anxiety or pain. I would hope that you're addressing those as much as you possibly can.

*** please nobody think that when I say "working" that I mean jobs/working for other people. When I say "working" I mean literally any activity that you don't find yourself doing automatically and without thought. I love plants- taking care of them is still work. I love food- making it is still work. I love sharing information- compiling it in a format that is intelligible to others is still work.

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

Do you think there is a way to ethically watch Sandman and Good Omens? What about Dead Boy Detectives?

Andddd this was why I originally turned off anons. I knew this was coming eventually, but I guess I'll respond just this once so everyone knows where I stand.

I don't love that I feel the need to disclose this, but I have personally experienced grooming and sexual assault in the past. So this post is coming from someone who has Been There and understands the importance of supporting victims. I also love all of the efforts NG-related fandoms have been putting into raising money for sexual assault charities. It's wonderful to see people rallying behind the survivors and supporting them so vocally.

- DEAD BOY DETECTIVES: NOT A GAIMAN WORK

I do not think that there is a world where Dead Boy Detectives would be unethical to stream. It has virtually nothing to do with Neil Gaiman, by his own admission, and is the brain-child of Steve Yockey.

Besides the first chapter where Charles and Edwin were introduced (with no development), he didn't even write the comics! Several artists did, including Toby Litt and Mark Buckingham - whose run the show is based on and who the sprites are named after.

Yockey was the sole person to pitch DBDA to Warner Brothers. Gaiman did not do that.

Streaming Dead Boy Detectives primarily supports its writers, cast, and crew - Gaiman, who only wrote 2 scenes, is getting essentially nothing in terms of royalties.

Someone on Twitter did a really good job of unpacking why Dead Boy Detectives shouldn't be lumped in with Gaiman stuff - I'll link it here.

But this leads me to the next section.

- HANDLING GOOD OMENS AND SANDMAN

I think that there are a lot of valid reactions to the way people handle the consumption of Gaiman's shows after what he has done.

Some people are going to be unable to stomach anything he has written, and that is okay. Others whose lives have been massively impacted by his work aren't going to be able to let go since - and I know people like to deny this, but it's true - the art you love more than love itself is going to have a serious material impact on your personality.

Both of these approaches are alright! The only incorrect approach is to harass those who disagree with your personal choices.

It also is, in my opinion, Bad to give Gaiman money. Purchasing his books and buying Good Omens official merch puts cash in his pocket.

Streaming the shows, though, is a little more nuanced to me.

I'm going to use Good Omens as an example here. I personally will not be continuing with Good Omens. It gives me a Yucky Feeling. I may one day change my mind and stream a pirated version, but I don't think so.

However, I don't think Sheen and Tenant's fans are wrong to stream it in support of the actors who have brought their favourite characters to life.

But this leads me into my next point, and the point that will probably get me Canceled.

- THE IMPACT OF SHOWS ON PEOPLE

The way that people handle their favourite shows post-allegations is going to depend on the impact that the show had on their life.

I like Good Omens. It's a fun show. I enjoyed it while watching it, and think (see: thought) positively of it. But it had no real deep impact on my life - it's not part of me. When I look at Good Omens now, I see Gaiman's work above the finished product. It puts a sour taste in my mouth.

But in a hypothetical world, if Dead Boy Detectives were a Gaiman production? I have the self-awareness to know that I probably would still stream it to support the cast and crew. I am attached enough to it that I think I would divorce it entirely from Gaiman (if he were the creator, which he is not.) My point is that other people who are still streaming Sandman and GO probably don't look at it and see Gaiman. They see something that they have absorbed into themselves.

The part that's going to get me canceled is that if George cameos in Sandman, I will stream that one (1) episode to support George Rexstrew (Edwin Payne's actor). This is because Edwin has had a material impact on my life (hilariously, because I am a sexual violence survivor who did not get justice, and Edwin did not get justice for his murder and fights for that.) I feel that Edwin is part of me and my life, because Edwin (and George's work as Edwin) has made me feel less alone.

A lot of people feel that way about Crowley and Aziraphale.

I think that asking people to ditch a show, characters, and performers that have had a deep impact on their lives is unfair to them. Like, yes, Neil Gaiman is a bag of shit! Anyone who defends him is also a bag of shit! But I don't think that it's fair to stop people from supporting works that have had big material impacts on their own lives.

- HOW TO PROCEED

TL;DR

My personal ideal outcome here would be:

Wrap up Good Omens with the 90-minute movie and nothing else.

Wrap up Sandman with season 2, and do not renew.

Revive Dead Boy Detectives WITH THE CAVEAT that Gaiman gets his name removed from it, even if he currently isn't making much money off it. Take the Sandman characters and references from DBDA and let it become its own standalone thing.

Cancel all future Gaiman productions and never hire him to work on television or anything else again.

Let Gaiman's career die entirely and let him fade into obscurity.

Arrest Gaiman, which will never happen but it should.

I think people should:

Stop giving Neil Gaiman money through books or merch.

Make their own decisions about whether or not to officially stream the shows in support of the actors and crew members who have worked hard on it.

Not harass anyone for either their decision to stream the show, not stream the show, or stream a pirated version of the show.

Engage as much as they want with fandom and fanworks, as they are divorced from the source material's creator.

Vocally speak up against Neil Gaiman. Amplify the voices of the survivors, and don't let fear for the future of your show get in the way of that. At the end of the day, real women were put through the most traumatic and horrifying experience of their lives, and that's what matters most.

[signanothername]

So if Dream is blocking Reaper from taking Nightmare, does that mean the only reason he became another tree is because of Dream? He planted him(?) And can never leave again to protect him from Death and others? (Which side thought: that comic where Killer visited tree Nighmare he was wearing Nightmare's lil cloak I think? Was he "grieving" in his own way? I'm sure he came there to mess up his tree probs but even so their relationship is complex and deep and I doubt Nightmare's passing would leave him unaffected. I was thinking about that a lot.)

I think I remember water being in that one picture of Dream guarding Nightmare's tree so it makes think they are related.

I find it interesting how Dream's stone arm also illustrates how Nightmare doesn't "deserve" Dreams kindness after everything he has done yet he still holds him with their very arm Nightmare wounded

Also just the fact that Dream is kneeling in the water with Nightmare makes me think he's taken on the water's comforting role it held for Nightmare or mixing with it. Giving him that bit of peace.

I'm glad you like my asks heh I enjoy sending them!

Context

Yep! Dream planted him

Dream could actually leave Nightmare’s side, the reason for that is because the only person who actually knows of Nightmare’s final resting place is Dream himself, and Reaper because he’s drawn to souls that he has to reap, otherwise, no one knows where Nightmare is, all they know is that he suddenly stopped showing up, Dream never makes an announcement about Nightmare’s fate either in fear of people and how they might target him

Dream instead, just announces that he killed Nightmare, as far as anyone knows, Nightmare is completely gone

Reaper no longer is truly able to reap Nightmare’s soul because planting him is a form of giving life, which is outside his jurisdiction, this is Life’s job now

Killer obviously didn’t buy the idea that Nightmare is killed, he simply refuses to let Dream fool him into believing that Nightmare is actually and legitimately gone, if he truly was gone, how come the multiverse returned to its original emotional balance? How come negativity just didn’t completely stop existing, anyone who’s ignorant to how the twins work would believe that, Killer isn’t ignorant, Nightmare isn’t dead, he’s still kicking

That obviously gotten Killer’s curiosity to amplify, so he went digging, watching Dream like a hawk, while Dream simply didn’t notice Killer at all, nor is Dream knowledgeable of how Killer’s brain works, or of his habits, so while Dream was careful to time his visits to Nightmare, and used his grief as an excuse for why he disappears at times (and he truly is grieving) he wasn’t careful enough, Killer does find him and find Nightmare

Killer’s visits are at first completely in secret, without Dream’s knowledge, eventually tho he let himself be known, Dream obviously didn’t take that well, but what can Dream do? Break his bones? Been there done that, use positivity against him? He’s felt what the negativity of 998 apples feel like, positivity of one apple couldn’t compare

Killer’s visit of Nightmare isn’t necessarily out of grief, but inherent disbelief, this is Nightmare, he doesn’t just “die”, and absolutely, it does affect him, but Killer isn’t actually wearing Nightmare’s cloak, just something akin to it, Killer has a habit of wearing clothes that speak to him and his time under both Chara’s and Nightmare’s influence

Killer has majorly healed, not fully, but he already made so much progress, so he doesn’t care for Nightmare, nor does he attach his worth to him anymore, but it’s one of those moments where he goes “huh.”, a bit of disbelief that his abuser, captor, and puppeteer met such fate, if anything, I’d say his passing at that point affected him positively

At one point it would have absolutely affected him negatively, but not right now, right now, Nightmare’s fate feels nothing but fully freeing, like the invisible strings still puppeteering him from afar finally cut off, he’s finally, truly and utterly free

And ughhh you get it! While the water comforts Nightmare’s body and mind, Dream comforts Nightmare’s soul <333

[thebibliosphere]

Am I reading this right? You have been beating yourself up for not 'working more' and not 'doing enough', but, the mere act of being AT YOUR DESK is extremely painful? Sitting at your work station, just SITTING THERE, caused you PHYSICAL PAIN, but you were still under the impression that you should be able to just 'power through that' to do, what? How much more are you expecting out of yourself? A book a month? Its not like you've STOPPED WORKING. What time table were you holding yourself to???

Here's the thing, my body has always hurt.

Even when I was a child, I was in a lot of pain that was dismissed as either "growing pains" despite the fact that I never got past 5 feet tall at the age of 11 or "attention seeking." So, I learned to stop talking about it. (The trick is now getting me to shut up about it.)

And for most of my teens and twenties, the pain didn't really stop me too much. It was bad, and it sucked, but for the longest time, everyone kept telling me that "everyone" felt that way, so I just sort of learned to power through and hide it under the assumption that "everyone" feels this way.

Well, turns out that was a mistake because my body hit its breaking point, and what might have been a mild genetic disability that could have flown under the radar is now a severe one that greatly impacts my daily life to the point where sitting at my desk causes me pain (because everything causes me pain).

Couple that with some new-age religious trauma about willpower, positive thinking, and whatever the fuck else my parents thought I was capable of as an 'indigo starseed' and the fact that I was trained to mask my ADHD by being a hyper-competent workaholic-- I really don't know what a healthy baseline is.

(I mean, heck, I wrote the first book of Hunger Pangs while literally dying. I assumed it would be edited and published posthumously. Jokes on me because now I've got to edit the rest of the fucking thing.)

I didn't, obviously, and ever since then, I've been trying to learn what a healthy baseline looks like for me post-recovery, and I think I'm doing quite well at it and enforcing my boundaries when people ask too much of me.

But none of that makes up for the shrieking frustration I feel that I can't do the things I want.

I want to be creative and do fun things, but I can't because my body won't let me. I want to write more, but I can't because I'm swimming in brain fog most of the time. Yes it hurts to sit at my desk, but I also need to earn money so the financial burden of everything isn't solely on my partner. (Something which he argues I shouldn't even be worrying about right now, but it's hard not to worry as I watch him work himself to the bone taking care of everything because I can't.)

I promise you, I'm not hustling my ass into an early grave. There is, in fact, zero hustle about how I work. I am very, very slow these days compared to how I used to be. There's no timetable for one thing. I get done what I get done, and that's it.

I'm just perpetually frustrated that my hyperactive brain is trapped in a malfunctioning meat suit. And my blog is where I talk about it and work through my emotions because, well, that's what I've always done long before Tumblr was even a thing. It just so happens now I've got an audience.

[sapphlopods]

This will be one of the hardest things I ever have to do, but I need help even though I hate asking for it.

Please help me escape my homophobic and financially abusive parents. More under "Keep Reading"

I'm Chaim, and ever since I graduated high school, I’ve lived with my parents. Australia has an incredibly bad housing crisis, and it’s nearly impossible for me to move out without friends or roommates who have a pre-established house, which I have none. 

Over the course of the past 4 years, I have watched my father devolve into this angry right-wing conspiracy theorist who thinks all “Wokes” should d1e. He has no idea I’m a lesbian as I fear for what he will do if he ever finds out. 

My mother has a range of health issues, in 2022 she had a heart attack, and this year, she was diagnosed with brain and kidney cancer, which she is in and out of hospital for. Her financial assistance has been delayed over and over, we still need to wait 2 months to get help. 

So, my household's only income is from my father and me. My father has an incredibly bad gambling, drinking and tobacco addiction, he goes through a pack of 30 cans and a pack of 30 cigarettes in 2 days. Tobacco and alcohol are heavily taxed here and are upwards of $60+ each; that’s $120 every 2 days, he earns $1600 fortnightly and spends roughly $840 of it on just his addictions; that’s more than half his pay, and that isn’t including the horse races he bets on. 

That leaves me to pick up the slack on groceries, rent, my mother's medicine and lend them money when Dad “overspends” at the pub. My father would rather starve than lessen his addictions a bit so we can afford to stay in our house and have food to eat. 

This has been happening for years even before my mother fell so ill she couldn’t work but it's gotten worse. I do not want to leave my mother, but she will not leave my father no matter what since she sees nothing wrong with what he does. I’m tired of being nothing more than a piggybank and a maid to my parents since I will never be able to move out when all my money goes towards keeping a roof over our heads. Even while I was on vacation, they still called me up and asked for money. 

I’ve wanted to move out for a long time, but my situation is getting direr by the day, and I can’t save a single cent to leave like this. I know many problems are going on in the world right now that deserve people’s time more than this so thank you for reading this far. 

If you can spare anything, please send it to my ko-fi. It'll be going towards getting stuff sorted so I can move to my partner Cinna, who lives far away in Chile, but I have no other option now. 11/12

I also have a few items listed on my eBay that people might like, a lot of it is fandom stuff and collector things I have accumulated, I'll be putting more stuff up slowly as I sort through my things preparing to move. https://www.ebay.com.au/usr/sapphlopods

[cutieln4]

Matchmaker | LN4

lando norris x fem!reader, background lestappen

summary: you try getting involved in max and charles' love lives, and it turns out they're also trying to get involved in yours

At the age of 21 years old, you joined McLaren after becoming a champion in all the junior categories. This made you the first woman in modern F1, and the first woman in several decades. And if people thought that Lando had a lot of energy, they had not met you yet.

Now that your rookie season was halfway done with, you've learned two important things. 1) Lando was very easy to get along with and 2) Max and Charles were certainly in love. 

There were a couple times when you had been on the podium with them, and of course you loved being on the podium, but having to third wheel that pair would drive anyone insane. 

So, when you got back from the summer break, you decided to make it your mission to get them together. Step 1 was telling Lando about your plans.

"Landooo!" you called out as you saw him walking in the paddock up ahead, running to catch up with him. 

"Hey, Y/n/n," he greeted you with a handshake. 

"I have a plan," you said devilishly. 

"Shit, that can never be good."

"Hey! Hear me out. So, Charles and Max, you know?"

"Who? I've never heard of those people in my life," he said sarcastically. 

"Ooookay, I could do without the attitude, thanks. Anyways, I'm sure you've noticed how in love with each other they are. Like hello? They literally scream 'enemies to lovers' trope. You know what I mean? I just need to find a way to get them to confess their undying love for each other." 

Lando's eyes widened and he looked around, making sure that no one was listening before pulling you to the side.

"Oh—jeez, so, you in?"

"The entire grid has been trying to get them together for years, you think that you'll be able to do it?"

"Yeah, obviously, but I'll need a sidekick that's why I'm telling you, so...?" 

He sighed. "Alright, tell me your ideas."

"Yes!"

"But I'm not your sidekick, we're partners in crime, okay?"

"Sure, sure. Anyways, step 1 of 'el plan' is to just subtly start mentioning Max or Charles when in conversation with the other. Get them in each others brains, you know? Like 'Oh Max was saying how he hopes for rain.'

Then, step 2, we start mentioning things that they've said about each other. 'Hey Max, Charles was saying how he always loves his on track battles with you the most,' stuff like that. Then we have to start interrogating them about their love life so they can hopefully admit their feelings. That's all I got so far."

Lando nodded, deep in thought. "Okay, this could work, this could work."

~~~~~~~~~~

Charles won in Monza, with Max and yourself completing the podium. While you were getting your interview done, the two of them seemed to be locked in their "debrief".

"Am I the only one who's noticed all the chemistry between her and Lando?" Max asked.

"You're definitely not the only one, mate. Being in a press conference with those two is unbearable."

"Ugh, yes, like just kiss already. I'm glad I'm not going crazy. We need to do something about it, get them to confess their feelings."

"I agree," Charles replied, staring into Max's eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Later, they were in the press conference room, waiting for it to start, and Max and Charles were chatting away.

Y/n: MATE

Y/n: HELP

Y/n: I CAN'T TAKE THIS THIRD WHEELING

Landhoe: you can't complain you got a podium

Y/n: i actually can complain, i've suffered too much

Landhoe: you like seeing them together, don't lie. 

You grinned at that, then glanced up from your phone to see Max and Charles looking at you. 

"Who you texting?" Max asked.

"Just Lando," you shrugged, confused as Charles and Max gave each other a look.

"You guys seem to be getting along well, no?" Charles asked. 

"Uh yeah, I guess. It helps that we're both pretty similar."

"Yes, yes, very similar," Max nodded, and you raised your eyebrow, side-eyeing them. 

"Anyway, you guys have anyone special in your life, yet?" you asked.

The smirk on Max's face faltered as he glanced at Charles for a millisecond before looking back to her. 

"No, not yet, mate."

"Me neither," Charles added. 

You hummed. "Hm, okay."

~~~~~~~~~~

In Suzuka, Lando and you were talking while walking towards the driver's parade. 

"So I'm going to talk to Charles and you're going to talk to Max, sounds good?"

"Yup, I know the plan," Lando confirmed. 

"Great, we'll debrief after the race."

You spotted Charles and quickly ran up next to him before someone else could start a conversation with him. 

"Hey, Charlie! Congrats on your podium in Singapore!"

"Thanks, mate."

"Man, it's crazy how fast the season flew by, it seems like just yesterday I was a scared little rookie rolling up in Bahrain. Anyway, I was hoping to get your advice on something," you said, trying not to bring up the topic too suddenly. 

"Yeah, of course, go ahead."

"Okay, well, let's say hypothetically in a situation where you like someone, but you're not sure if they like you back, and you don't want to say anything because it could ruin your friendship and it would be awkward because you have to see them for the majority of the year, what would you do?" you asked, trying to gauge his feelings about potentially confessing his feelings. 

Charles glanced somewhere behind you, and you didn't want to look but you would've bet a million bucks that it was at Max.

"Well, if you're feeling like that person even just maybe likes you back, I say go for it. You wouldn't want to waste precious time that you could be spending together because you were too scared."

"So you're saying that if you like someone, you should just go for it?" you confirmed. 

"Yeah."

"Interesting..." you rubbed your chin, then turned to look at Max behind you. 

Meanwhile, Lando and Max were deep in conversation. 

"What would you think if two of the drivers started dating? Cause some of these people have some real chemistry," Lando asked, trying to seem nonchalant. 

Max shrugged. "I mean, yeah, some of us have known each other since our childhoods. I wouldn't be surprised if some crushes have developed. It's not my business, but I don't mind. It would be interesting, though."

"What about Charles and Pierre?" Lando egged on, waiting for a reaction. 

He watched in satisfaction as Max's eyes turned a shade darker and his jaw clenched. "Nah, I don't see it. But you and Y/n seem to be getting awfully close."

Lando couldn't help the blush that painted his cheeks. He tried to say something but was at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. Max started snickering.

"We're just friends," he finally stuttered out.

"Alright, if you say so."

Lando sighed, turning away in disappointment. That did not go according to plan. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Max won the race, and because the McLaren was good in the high speed corners, Lando finished 2nd and yourself 3rd. 

You and Lando hugged as soon as you got out of your cars.

"Wohoooo! Let's go!" you cheered as you both ran to the fence of McLaren workers. 

You got done with the interview and was the first one in the cooldown room. You had put your helmet down on the platform and was drinking your water. You heard the others entering and turned around, bumping into Lando. 

"Oh, shit!" you exclaimed as you dropped your water bottle. 

You both bent down to grab it, causing your hands to touch and both of you to pause. Lando then grabbed your bottle and you both stood up, staring into each others' eyes for a couple seconds before you snapped out of it and moved to grab your water bottle. 

"Thanks," you said quietly. 

Lando was still looking at you, before quickly saying, "You're welcome."

You noticed Max watching you and the camera on you, so you cleared your throat and moved around Lando to sit on one of the chairs. 

"That was a good overtake, in the beginning," you commented to Max, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. 

Before the conference, Max was quick to get on his phone.

Max: Holy shit, I have so much to tell you about Lando and Y/n

Max: You should come to my hotel room tonight

Max: I think we're in the same hotel

Charles: I have stuff to tell you too. What time?

Max: Does after dinner, 9:00 work? 

Charles: That's perfect

Max: Great, my room is 1633

Charles: See you then ;)

And for some reason Max felt like a giddy schoolgirl at the thought of Charles coming to his hotel room.

You and Lando kept stealing glances at each other whenever the other wasn't looking, and it was so frustrating.

Later, when it was just around 9:00, Max waited (im)patiently for Charles to knock on his door, and he jumped when he finally heard the noise, getting up to let him in. Charles walked in nervously. 

"We can sit on the couch," Max commented, and Charles quickly situated himself on one end, and Max on the other. 

"Ok, you go first," Max urged. 

"Well Y/n came up to me during the driver's parade and she was talking about 'hypothetically' liking something but not doing anything about it because it could ruin their friendship. So of course I told her she should just go for it, and then she looked at Lando."

"Oh my God. Lando came up to me during the driver's parade and asked what I would think if two drivers started dating each other, and I said something about how close him and Y/n were, and he blushed. And then in the cool down room, they bumped into each other which made Y/n drop her water bottle, and when they both reached down to pick it up they touched hands. Then they just stared at each other for like 5 fucking seconds."

"Jesus, what is going on with them."

"I know right, like holy fuck just make out already! I'm sick of their pining."

Max shifted on the couch, causing his foot to touch Charles' leg. 

"Anyway, want to watch a movie?" Max asked, and Charles nodded eagerly. 

And that's how they ended up in the pitch dark, a bowl of microwaved popcorn in between them, some racing movie on the television. 

They both reached for the popcorn at the same time, causing their hands to touch, and both of them snapped their heads to look at each other. 

They stared at each other, eyes flickering down to each other's lips...until the sound of Max's phone ringing caused them both to jump apart. 

"Jesus!" Max exclaimed, quickly silencing his phone, and they reluctantly turned back to the movie, moment ruined. 

~~~~~~~~~~

A couple weeks passed until they were in Qatar. Max and Charles hadn't spoken to each other, and there was minimal communication between you and Lando. 

Max would be starting the race on pole, then Lando, you, and Charles. 

As the race went on, it seemed like that would be the finishing order, until halfway through Max started having braking issues. Lando caught up, overtaking Max for the lead, and you did the same a few laps later. 

The rest of the race, Max had adapted to the issue but still had slow pace because of it, which left him defending against Charles. 

The race ended in that order, Lando taking his first win.

"YEAHHH!!! LET'S FUCKING GO BABY! WOOHOOOOOO!!!" Lando cheered. 

They parked up in front of the podium boards. Lando opened his visor, got out of his car and stood on it, holding up his pointer finger and pumped his fist in celebration, fireworks going off in the background in the dark sky. 

You quickly got out of your car and removed your helmet, going straight to Lando. 

"You did it! You fucking did it! I'm so proud of you!" you told him as you pulled him in for a hug. 

He stared at you for a second when you let go, then immediately removed his helmet, putting a hand on your waist, pulling you closer and connecting your lips together. 

You were stunned for a second, before placing your hand on his cheek and deepening the kiss. Everything around you guys went still, like only the two of you existed. You eventually pulled away and could hear the booming of fireworks, the cheers from the crowd, and the whistles from the McLaren team a few feet away. You both blushed as you came to your senses. 

"I really fucking like you," Lando breathed out, slightly winded from the kiss. 

"I would hope so, after that," you teased, before pulling him in for another kiss. 

Max stood by his team, watching the pair from a far, his jaw dropped. 

"Fucking finally," Max sighed. 

But then he glanced behind him and spotted Charles walking to the FIA garage to get weighed, and an irresistible urge overcame him.

He followed Charles into the garage and grabbed his arm, dragging him behind one of the curtains.

"Did you see that! They finally—"

Charles was cut off as Max crashed their lips together.

"I think I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Max admitted when they pulled away. 

"I've been wanting to do that since I pushed you off the track in karting," Charles smiled, and Max smiled back, kissing him again.

—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—

a/n: i never intended to publish this anywhere but here i am. i literally never write written romance like this so this is really cringe and i cringed while writing it but enjoy ig. if you have any suggestions though please tell me!!

[thegnomelord]

Hello there! I'm a new anon, kinda scared to ask and spill all of my weird ass fantasies that I can come up with, but I somehow found the courage to do so.

After reading through the soft sex fic with Makarov (and omfg I am going CRAZY over it) I just randomly came up with an idea involving that.

So hear me out (aka let me just be delusional)...

You, a member of 141, currently stand in the interrogation room, your back facing the door as you stared down at the one and only Vladimir Makarov himself. It was honestly a miracle that you had been able to capture him, and you still had no idea how the hell the rest of your team had managed it.

You were currently their last hope at getting some sort of information out of him, and by now the others knew very well by now how talented you were at getting it out of prisoners (albeit they didn't quite know what your methods were), hence why you were here in this room.

At this point you might as well have tried everything, these including the good old torture methods (which you noticed he seemed to quote like for some reason, perhaps he was a masochist, you weren’t completely sure), intimidation, asking politely (which wouldn't you know, didn't work), and practically everything you could think of.

As you racked your brain for any sort of other ideas, you could hear some sort of taunt from the other, and that must have set you off or something along those lines as you found yourself suddenly pinning the bastard down on the desk (you must have unlocked his handcuffs at one point during it, or perhaps he had already managed to unlock them beforehand, you weren't paying attention).

You wanted to think that the other was surprised, even just a little bit, but he wasn't, having probably expected you to have a small outburst.

Maybe you would have to resort to that. That one method that none of the others had seen in action, but one that if they did, you'd definitely get in a lot of trouble from. At least it always seemed to work.

So that's how you found yourself slowly fucking the other, not at all causing any pain, and although you'd expect the cold metal table would still inflicted just a little, you had taken the precaution to place something soft under the other to ensure that he couldn't get what he wanted. This was torture, even if in the eyes of others (not that they'd ever get to see this sight) it'd be much better, but no, it wasn't. You were well aware that the other wished for it to be harsh, having picked up on it earlier (the sick bastard), so you did the complete opposite. You weren't exactly used to it, but it was a last ditch effort.

So yeah thanks for reading whatever the hell that was :)

Idk how to continue it.

- ⨂ (I swear if that symbol has already been taken)

No no dude this is so good! SOrry it took me a lil while to respond lol, but you got my brain worms going brrrrrr so I'm just continuing it :Dd.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Vladimir Makarov x male reader, short ficlet

You are so getting discharged for this.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask under your breath, voice husky and raw. You grip his hip gently, your other hand keeping his tied wrists pinned to the scratchy blanket covering the cold table. "All that snark, all those insults," You slowly grind your hips, cock lazily scrapping against his walls and making him groan. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's not like he can talk with his tie gagging him. It's the softest material you had on hand, and it works to ensure Makarov doesn't bite you or himself. You're smart, despite him thinking on the contrary, more than the gruff animals that had captured him. No, you're clever. Clever enough to realize bloodshed and pain are not the stones that pave Makarov's road to hell.

Makarov trembles beneath you, teeth clenching on the fabric, desperate to get his lip between his teeth so he could bite it raw. He can't. Hell he can barely stifle the groans and moans, chest heaving to swallow the sound before it can stumble past his open mouth when your head grinds down on his prostate. Drool runs down his chin, precum leaking on his belly where his cock is trapped between your belies.

He wants to curse you out, wants to get his hands around your throat and squeeze until you choke on your own blood. But he only manages a small grunt, tear blurred eyes glaring up at you. His legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your back.

A lick of pain races up your spine, but you don't fall for it, languidly rolling your hips. You'd taken your time to stretch him out with what you had, prepping him thoroughly even when he'd trashed and tried to kick you. You're glad you did, now Makarov can't ignore the stretch of his hole, your massive cock moulding his insides to your shape. It's just raw unadulterated feeling, please assaulting his mind whenever you bottom out and your cock bulges his stomach without any pain; so sweet it's sickening to him.

He'd kick himself at how the disgustingly sweet pleasure has his cock twitching, body winding tight as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. But his mind is starting to go numb, the hate he feels shrouded by the nearing edge of bliss. He nearly seizes off the table when you wrap your calloused hand around the base of his cock, squeezing until he's just at the cusp of pain.

"Nu-uh." You growl and stop, cock twitching deep inside him. Leaning down to press gentle kisses across his throat that burn him like acid. "You're not getting off easy." You growl, kissing the corner of his lip. "Not until you give me what I need." You look at him expectantly.

He bares his teeth, swinging his head to try and headbutt you, but you pull your head just at the right time.

"Have it your way." Your grip relaxes, starting to jerk him off at the same pace of your languidly rolling hips. His head rolls back, his best attempt at a hateful sound escaping him when his head rests on the soft blanket. He hates it, tries to struggle as best he can but it's fruitless as you just hold him down, forcing him to just take it, to just suffer this gentle torture.

You may be discharged for this. But fuck, you'll make him suffer before you are.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Hey so can I have a scenario where Kurt has a s/o who he has been with for a while. It’s smut. S/o is a gentle, loving, passionate top? It’s not about his appearance or any bad actions he has done. S/o is just very loving in the moment with him whenever they do the deed?

~Late To The Party~

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: oral m & f receiving, lots of praise, general goofy cuteness here

Genre: it's smut ofc but plenty of fluff too

Summary: Sometimes your boyfriend just looks good enough to eat ;)

A/N:Thank you for requesting darling! <3

***

You hum to yourself as you do your makeup at your vanity. You want to go relatively simple, a smokey eye probably, that's your go to when you're struggling to decide on a look. While you work, you hear your boyfriend mutter a couple of curses in German and stifle a chuckle. This happens any time he tries to tie a tie.

"Having a bit of trouble, my love?" You ask walking over to the bathroom where he's no doubt rebuking the very creation of neckties.

"Help, please?" He sighs, hands dropping to his sides.

"Of course my sweet." You smile, adjusting the sides to the proper length and tying it for him.

"This is ridiculous I should be able to tie a tie." He grumbles.

"I don't think it's that important, it's not like you wear ties every day." You shrug.

"But- most adult men can tie a tie, can't they?" 

"I dunno. But you should never learn because I like doing it for you." You adjust the knot around his neck slightly and tap his nose.

"I think it's important that I learn how to tie one for myself." He says.

"Yeah if you plan to start working at a bank." You scoff.

"A bank?"

"Or any other job that requires a tie every morning. You wear them so rarely that I really don't think you're missing out on anything, but if you must know, I'll teach you to do it for yourself. Even though I like doing it for you."

"Thank you." He says and you offer him a smile. With the tie fiasco out of the way, you take a look at his full outfit. He looks good. I mean he always looks good but he looks especially good right now. You tilt your head as you examine him.

"Is that a new shirt?" You ask.

"Yes. Does it look weird?" Kurt frowns looking down at himself.

"No! Quite the opposite, it looks really good." You tell him.

"Really? I wasn't sure the color would-"

"The color is perfect. Although, now I wonder if I should change so we match better." You look down at your own dress.

"Don't. You look amazing." Kurt says softly with that doe eyed lovey look he sometimes gives you. The one that so closely resembles the blissed out expression on his face after sex. Like the other day, you went through your toy stash together, and he picked a couple out that piqued his interest- that was a fun night.

"Keep looking at me like that and we'll be incredibly late to this party." You tap under his chin and leave the bathroom before your wandering mind does make you both late.

"Late? Why? We're pretty ahead of schedule right now." Kurt checks his watch while you sit back at your vanity.

"I know but we won't stay that way with you giving me that dopey grin." You tell him as you do your eyeliner.

"What dopey grin?" He frowns at you through the mirror.

"Well you're not doing it anymore, but sometimes you get this dopey grin on your face like I put the sun in the sky every morning and it looks a lot like your 'I just got my brain turned to mush' face after we have sex." You tell him.

"Oh."

"Don't worry I'm not going to jump your bones- I'm just thinking about it." You wink at him through the mirror as you swipe on your lipstick.

"I- don't wanna be late." He says hesitantly. You spin around on your vanity bench and face him.

"This lipstick is pretty life proof. I bet I wouldn't even have to redo it before we hit the road." You say, taunting him slightly. He's within arm's reach so you pull him towards you by the wrist and he looks at you with wide eyes, anticipating your next move.

"Liebling-"

"I know I said I was only thinking about it- but you are just too cute, I don't think I can wait til we get back to eat you up." You hum. Kurt gulps, he knows he won't be able to stop you once you start putting your hands on him or rather he'll have no desire to do so, but he doesn't want to show up super late to this party.

You thumb the button of his slacks and tug down the zip, shimmying his pants about halfway down his legs, freeing his dick, which is basically at eye level with you sitting on the vanity bench.

"Now, you'll have to keep your hands to yourself, I don't want you messing up my makeup. The rest of it isn't life proof." You warn him.

"But we'll be late to the-" Kurt trails off when your hand caresses his thigh.

"What were you saying?"

"I- you're distracting me." He says.

"Am I? Should I stop then?" You hum.

"Y/n please."

"We can go! You just have to tell me you don't want it, or even just step back. You haven't moved away so I'm not sure that I'm convinced you care that much about being late at this point." You muse. You're still just rubbing his thigh, giving him plenty of time to stop you.

"I care but I- liebling you know I can't say no to you." Kurt sighs.

"I'm not going to do anything if you won't ask for it then." You shrug.

"What?"

"Since you're so concerned with being on time I'm leaving it in your hands, if you want to leave we'll leave, but if you want what I want you'll have to tell me that."

"It- it's not the end of the world if we're a little late, right?"

"Right. So are we going to be a little late?"

"I- I think we're going to be a little late." Kurt says.

"Brilliant." You smile, wrapping your hand around his dick. Kurt takes a sharp breath and his abs tense in front of you. You wrap your lips around the tip of him and he gasps, squeezes his eyes shut, and balls his fists at his side.

"Y-you look- r-really pretty right nnnow." Kurt stutters.

"Thank you baby, so do you." You wink at him and take him back into your mouth. You watch his mouth fall open and his head tip back as he loses himself in the heat of your mouth wrapped around him. You move your head slowly up and down his length, taking more and more of him with each forward movement.

Kurt's hands flex repeatedly, but he diligently keeps them off of you, a task he decides he vehemently hates. The man is never not touching you when you're together, not even in a sexual way, he just loves to have his hands on you.

You continue sucking him off alternating between slow drags and faster bobbing. It's driving him nuts, the sounds spilling from his parted lips telling you everything you need to know. His moans are breathy and sometimes border on whines as they fall on your ears like your favorite song. Only once his legs threaten to buckle beneath him do you let the teasing stop and focus on making him cum. It doesn't take long, you've pushed all the right buttons to get him properly worked up and when you swirl your tongue against the spot just below the tip that always sets him off he spills into your mouth with a groan. He has to grab your shoulder to stay upright as you work him through his orgasm. When you're confident you've swallowed all evidence of his release you finally pull off of him. There's that dopey post-orgasm look of his you love so much.

"I love watching you fall apart you know." You smile as he takes a very shaky deep breath. 

"Not touching you is really hard." He huffs out making you laugh.

"Feeling alright my love?" You ask him.

"I- uh- I feel unsteady."

"Well! Luckily, I have a solution for that." You tug his arm with enough force to pull him to his knees in front of you. "Addendum, it's technically not a solution, more accurate would be luckily I don't need you on your feet for this next bit." You smile.

"This next bit?"

"You said not touching me is really hard. Well now you get to touch me. I wanna see your pretty face buried between my legs."

"Well you definitely don't have to ask me twice." Kurt says, pushing up the skirt of your dress until your panties are visible. He tugs them quickly down your legs and settles between your thighs with his hands resting on them.

"God you are perfect." He practically sighs before taking one long lick of your cunt. He groans at the taste before diving in fully. Kurt's tongue is eager against you, lapping up your juices, circling your clit, thrusting in and out of your center. He eats you out like a man starved, and your fingers thread through his hair has he does so.

"Fuck, Kurt, you're so good at this." You moan, grinding against his face. Kurt pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. He continues to rub the outside of said leg as he does all your favorite tricks with his tongue and you continue to moan and shower him with praise. 'I love you's and 'god that feels good's break up your cacophony of moans and groans. You arch towards him when he fucks you with his tongue, squeeze your legs around his head when he draws tight circles against your clit, and grind into his mouth when he slurps up your juices.

When he glances up at you and your eyes meet, you can barely stand the intensity of his gaze. He's looking at you as if his plan is to devour you from head to toe and nothing is more important than doing exactly that in this moment.

"You are so fucking hot Kurt." You sigh. Kurt groans deep in his throat and the vibrations make you gasp briefly. You pull at his hair and it makes him groan again. When you start releasing a string of curses Kurt focuses all his ministrations on your clit, tight circles that are sure to push you to the edge and over it rather quickly.

"Holy FUCK!" You groan as your orgasm hits. Kurt continues to tongue at your pussy until the aftershocks pass. You drop your leg from his shoulder making Kurt lean back.

"God I love you." Kurt says kissing your knee.

"I love you too my darling." You say smiling at him as you try to fix his hair a bit. You look over your shoulder to check your makeup in the vanity mirror.

"That- was definitely worth being late for." Kurt hums and you laugh.

"I'm glad you agree. And look at that, my lipstick still looks perfect." You muse.

"That would be one hell of an advertisement actually." Kurt chuckles.

"Definitely." You say putting on your earrings and necklace. Kurt stands and tucks himself back into his trousers. You grab a wet wipe from one of the drawers at your vanity and stand up, taking a moment to clean off Kurt's face.

"I was planning to clean that up myself ya know." Kurt says.

"I'm not going anywhere, you're welcome to more later." You wink.

"I will take you up on that." He says.

"Later my love, we should get going." You say. You give him a quick kiss and take his hand, leading him out of your room so you're not any later to this party.

***