#Formule E

[lactosefreevanillayoghurt]

hello e my love- here's the doodle you requested, about the tin cans and string. in light (hah! light!) of the star and celestial imagery and, well, everything- here you go. thinking of separate timezones and geographical distances and binary stars and the great big universe; know that you are so, so brilliant and i'm ever so glad we managed to find each other in the enormity of space and time. i love you <3 for a bonus: here's the playlist i was listening to for this. it reminded me of always human; in some way. made me think of galaxies,, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6V5XXwsAb-8

oh r... sweet love this is, i think, the nicest thing that anyone's ever done for me; you are so wonderful and i cannot thank you enough for this and your love and your support! and look!!! that's us!!! just chatting away with our red string (of fate?!) in between!! im always glad i found you, r to my e, moon to my stars <333 mwah i love you

[deus-ex-mona]

also, it’s 🎄that🎄 time of year again~~

[qbebou]

[bigmack2go]

Saying that gingers are being suppressed bc of what USED to be done to us is like saying Christians are being oppressed because they USED to be hunted: BULLSHIT

Had to be said because i have seen way to many people say this

[bruisedconscience]

@formulated-lie listen..,,,,,,,,,,,

Belvedere Vodka Presents DANIEL CRAIG

[sudhasree]

FemiPro Supplements 

[infogenesis]

Excel: Guida Completa per Adattare Celle e Contenuti in Modo Perfetto

Introduzione

Adattare le celle di Excel al contenuto è una delle competenze fondamentali per chi utilizza questo potente strumento di calcolo. Che tu sia un principiante o un utente esperto, sapere come gestire al meglio le dimensioni delle celle può migliorare significativamente la leggibilità e l'efficienza del tuo lavoro. In questa guida, esploreremo tutte le tecniche necessarie per adattare le celle di Excel al contenuto, con un focus particolare su metodi pratici e soluzioni avanzate.

Indice

Perché Adattare le Celle di Excel?

Adattamento Automatico delle Celle

Utilizzo della Funzione "Adatta Altezza Riga"

Utilizzo della Funzione "Adatta Larghezza Colonna"

Adattamento Manuale delle Celle

Modifica della Larghezza delle Colonne

Modifica dell'Altezza delle Righe

Trucchi e Suggerimenti Avanzati

Utilizzo delle Tabelle di Excel

Impostazione di Celle di Testo a Capo Automatico

Risoluzione dei Problemi Comuni

Conclusioni

Perché Adattare le Celle di Excel?

Adattare correttamente le celle di Excel al contenuto è essenziale per vari motivi:

Migliore leggibilità: Celle troppo strette o alte rendono difficile la lettura dei dati.

Presentazione professionale: Tabelle ben formattate hanno un aspetto più professionale.

Efficienza nel lavoro: Adattare le celle velocemente ti consente di risparmiare tempo prezioso.

Adattamento Automatico delle Celle

Utilizzo della Funzione "Adatta Altezza Riga"

Per adattare automaticamente l'altezza delle righe al contenuto:

Seleziona le righe che desideri modificare.

Vai alla scheda "Home" nel ribbon.

Clicca su "Formato" nel gruppo "Celle".

Seleziona "Adatta Altezza Righe".

Questa funzione è particolarmente utile quando si hanno righe con contenuti di lunghezza variabile, garantendo che ogni riga sia sufficientemente alta per visualizzare tutto il testo.

Utilizzo della Funzione "Adatta Larghezza Colonna"

Per adattare automaticamente la larghezza delle colonne:

Seleziona le colonne che desideri modificare.

Vai alla scheda "Home" nel ribbon.

Clicca su "Formato" nel gruppo "Celle".

Seleziona "Adatta Larghezza Colonne".

Questo metodo assicura che ogni colonna si espanda sufficientemente per contenere il testo più lungo in quella colonna.

Adattamento Manuale delle Celle

Modifica della Larghezza delle Colonne

Per modificare manualmente la larghezza delle colonne:

Posiziona il cursore sul bordo destro della colonna che desideri ridimensionare.

Trascina il bordo fino alla larghezza desiderata.

In alternativa, puoi fare clic destro sulla colonna e selezionare "Larghezza Colonna" per inserire un valore specifico.

Modifica dell'Altezza delle Righe

Per modificare manualmente l'altezza delle righe:

Posiziona il cursore sul bordo inferiore della riga che desideri ridimensionare.

Trascina il bordo fino all'altezza desiderata.

Puoi anche fare clic destro sulla riga e selezionare "Altezza Riga" per inserire un valore specifico.

Trucchi e Suggerimenti Avanzati

Utilizzo delle Tabelle di Excel

Le tabelle di Excel sono uno strumento potente per gestire dati. Quando converti un intervallo di celle in una tabella, Excel gestisce automaticamente la formattazione delle celle, incluso l'adattamento della larghezza delle colonne e l'altezza delle righe.

Impostazione di Celle di Testo a Capo Automatico

Per impostare il testo a capo automatico nelle celle:

Seleziona le celle desiderate.

Vai alla scheda "Home" nel ribbon.

Clicca su "Testo a capo" nel gruppo "Allineamento".

Questa funzione assicura che tutto il contenuto della cella sia visibile senza bisogno di adattare manualmente la larghezza della colonna.

Risoluzione dei Problemi Comuni

Problema: Celle Non Adattano il Contenuto

Se le celle non si adattano automaticamente al contenuto, verifica che non siano presenti restrizioni di formattazione e che la funzione "Adatta" sia correttamente applicata.

Problema: Contenuto Tagliato in Celle Unite

Quando unisci le celle, il contenuto potrebbe essere tagliato. Assicurati che le celle unite siano sufficientemente larghe e alte per contenere tutto il testo.

Conclusioni

Adattare le celle di Excel al contenuto è una pratica essenziale per ottimizzare la leggibilità e la professionalità dei tuoi fogli di calcolo. Seguendo le tecniche e i suggerimenti descritti in questa guida, sarai in grado di gestire al meglio le dimensioni delle celle e migliorare la presentazione dei tuoi dati.

Fonti Esterne

Microsoft Office - Adatta Altezza Righe

Excel Easy - AutoFit

Excel Campus - Adjusting Row Height and Column Width

Seguendo queste linee guida e sfruttando al meglio le funzioni di Excel, riuscirai a migliorare significativamente la gestione e la presentazione dei tuoi dati, rendendo i tuoi fogli di calcolo chiari, professionali e facili da leggere.

[cera-chem]

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Custom Formulation

Custom formulation is the creation of a product made exclusively for your company to your specifications. This can include the ingredients, the formulation, and the packaging. Custom formulation is often used by businesses that want to create a unique product that meets the needs of their target market.

There are many benefits to custom formulation. First, it allows businesses to create a product that is truly unique. This can help businesses to differentiate their products from the competition and to appeal to a specific target market. Second, custom formulation can help businesses to improve the quality of their products. By working with a formulation expert, businesses can ensure that their products are safe, effective, and compliant with all applicable regulations. Third, custom formulation can help businesses to save money. By working with a formulation expert, businesses can avoid the high costs associated with developing and manufacturing their own products.

If you are considering custom formulation, there are a few things you need to keep in mind. First, you need to have a clear idea of what you want your product to do. What are the benefits of your product? Who is your target market? Second, you need to find a formulation expert who has experience in the type of product you want to create.

Here are some of the benefits of custom formulation:

Unique products: Custom formulation allows you to create products that are truly unique. This can help you to differentiate your products from the competition and to appeal to a specific target market. Improved quality: Custom formulation can help you to improve the quality of your products. By working with a formulation expert, you can ensure that your products are safe, effective, and compliant with all applicable regulations.

[chogiwow]

finished watching cable girls and i am. broken 💔

[news-magazine]

MONACO, Celebrity  attend the 2023 Monaco E-Prix - Formule E, Race Day

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“You’ve fallen for them, haven’t you?” Price asked, following Simon’s line of sight, his eyes landing on your figure.

Your laughter filled the air, causing a smile to form on both the men’s lips. They’d been watching you for the last few minutes, casually joking about with Soap.

Simon was quiet as his mind filled with thoughts of you. The way you always smiled at him, even in the worst of times. The way you laughed so care free, a laugh that could cure any ailment Simon could possibly have. The way you cared for him, more than he’d ever had someone care for him in his life.

Prices eyes drifted back toward Simon, a small smile dancing on his lips. “It warms an old man’s heart you know.”

Simon looked over at his captain, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s that?”

“I’ve known you for how many years, Simon?” Price rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he held Simon’s gaze. “Never once have I seen you smile the way you do around them. You deserve to be happy, son.”

Simon let Price’s words sink in, the prospect of being with you in that way was not entirely unwelcome for Simon. But he was scared. Simon was such a broken mess of a man that he truly believed nothing could piece him back together.

Price stood, drawing Simon’s attention back to him, and clasped Simon’s shoulder firmly. “Don’t let that thick skull of yours prevent you from being happy. Take it from someone who knows.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon found you again later that day, his palms sweaty from his nerves. “Hey, you got a sec?”

You looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of you, the warm smile lining your lips as you looked at Simon had his knees nearly buckling. “Of course.”

Any confidence Simon had walking in there, was now gone as he stared down at you. Your E/C eyes melting his insides as he struggled to formulate the words he’d just practiced earlier.

“I..” Damnit! What was wrong with him? He was Simon fucking Riley for god sakes. He was supposed to be fearless. Yet here he was rendered a stuttering mess in front of you. “Fuck.”

You let out a soft giggle, causing Simon’s insides to warm. “Is everything okay, Si?”

Your nickname for him always had Simons brain in a fog, and it certainly wasn’t helping his case in this moment. “Yeah, yeah I just uh..”

You patiently watched as Simon struggled to form the words, your smile never faltering as his eyes drifted toward your lips.

“Are you free later?” He finally asked, his words coming out rushed.

“Is there a training?” You pondered, your mind flicking through the upcoming training schedule. “I wasn’t made-.”

“No.” Simon interjected. “It’s uh.. it’d just be you and I. There’s this pub I like to go to by base.”

Simon didn’t think it possible, but your smile widened even more, taking up the entire lower half of your face. “Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Riley?”

His cheeks burned crimson as your teasing, his belly doing flip flops as he gave you a curt nod. “Affirmative.”

“I would love that.” You said, as you stood to your feet. “It’s about damn time you asked me.”

Simon smiled brighter and wider than he’d ever had in his life, his mind now swirling with thoughts of the perfect first date. For the first time in a long time, Simon Riley was excited.

Maybe something could piece together his broken self after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: please excuse my multiple Simon fluff pieces. Ya girl has to heal🥹

[chaosandmarigolds]

Ok ok so because Simons been a jerk my last few dribbles here’s drunk Simon and him being pathetically in love —

It was late. The quiet hum of the evening had already set in, punctuated by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. The small, dimly lit flat you shared with Simon Riley was a mess—a comfortable mess. Clothes scattered across the floor, a half-drunk bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, and the soft glow of the TV providing the only light in the room.

Simon, though a man of few words in his more sober moments, had never been quite so... expressive when drunk. But tonight was different.

You’d known each other for a while now. Long enough to understand the layers beneath his gruff exterior. You’d seen his quiet moments, the ones when he let his guard down, and the times when he retreated to that familiar shell of toughness. But tonight, Simon had cracked, albeit with the help of far too much whiskey. You weren’t sure whether you should laugh or worry.

“Oi... hey,” he slurred, voice low but still laced with that unmistakable gravel, as he sat slumped on the couch. His legs sprawled across the cushions, and his face, usually so controlled, was flushed, eyes unfocused but still intense.

You smiled softly, picking up the empty glass from the coffee table and standing to refill it. You'd seen him like this before—a bit tipsy, more vulnerable, but still Simon. A little too much alcohol made him sentimental, and that’s what you’d come to expect

You didn’t mind it. In fact, you adored him even more for it. It was a rare day he was like this.

“You’re drunk,” you said, your tone gentle but amused as you returned to his side, handing him the fresh glass of whiskey.

He took it without a word, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment—lingering, if only for a second.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, his laugh low and rough, but there was something tender in it tonight, something rare. “A bit too much, maybe. But... s'not about that, love. It’s about you.”

You raised an eyebrow, settling beside him on the couch. He’d had more than enough to drink, but that didn't make you nervous. You knew Simon well enough to know that even when he was drunk, he wasn’t the type to go too far. He would always keep his distance, but tonight... it was different.

“What’s it about then?” you asked softly, smiling at him, trying to mask the concern you felt

He turned his head toward you, blinking as if it took him a moment to focus. Then he sighed deeply, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his broad shoulders.

“You... you deserve better than this, love. Deserve better than me. I—" He shook his head slightly, his voice growing heavier with each word. "I’ve been a bastard. No other way to put it. S'why I—why I do what I do. Can't offer you anything more than what I got. But... I’d give you the world if I could.”

You could feel his sincerity, the rawness behind his words. His eyes softened as he stared at you, a mix of guilt and something else you couldn’t quite place in his gaze.

You reached over, placing a hand on his arm, your touch gentle but firm. He wasn’t used to this kind of tenderness, especially not from you. He was used to your patience, your willingness to put up with his moods and demons, but tonight, he seemed to need something more. Something you weren’t sure how to give.

“You already give me everything,” you said quietly, your voice thick with emotion. “More than I could ever ask for.

Simon’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. He looked like he wanted to argue but the alcohol in his system made it difficult to formulate the right words. He settled for a frustrated sigh and took a long swig from his glass before setting it aside on the coffee table with a soft clink.

“I’m broken, love,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now, as if the words weighed too heavily to say out loud. “Don’t deserve someone like you. You need…need a house, real pretty like you. Garden and all the flowers ever grown…Ca..can’t give tha’ to you.”

You laughed softly, though there was no real humor behind it—just a deep, affectionate understanding of the man beside you.

“You’re wrong,” you said, your voice steady and unwavering. “You don’t have to be perfect for me. You don’t have to be anything but Simon.” You leaned in closer, turning your body toward him. “I’m not asking for a perfect life. I just want you.”

His gaze softened further, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he looked like a man who had been carrying the weight of the world for far too long and, just for a second, could finally rest.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said, almost like a confession. “But I swear... I’d do anything to make it right. To give you a life that’s better than this.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. It was real. He was real. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for you.

"You don't have to fix everything," you whispered, your voice a soft murmur against the fabric of his shirt. "You just have to be here. With me."

Simon exhaled slowly, a long breath that was heavy with unspoken emotions. His hand found its way to your hair, threading his fingers gently through the strands. He didn’t say anything more, but in the silence, you both understood each other. There were no grand promises, no guarantees about the future—but in this moment, you had each other, and that was enough.

And maybe, just maybe, Simon was beginning to believe that, too.

(and as always, comments, feed back, and any ideas or anything truly make my day!) Toodles!

[magodelpc]

Excel: Copia di formule e riferimenti di cella diversi

Copia di formule e riferimenti di cella diversi: un vantaggio dell’utilizzo dei riferimenti di cella nelle formule è che semplificano la copia delle formule da una posizione a un’altra in un foglio di lavoro o in una cartella di lavoro. I riferimenti di cella relativi cambiano quando vengono copiati per riflettere la nuova posizione della formula. Il nome relativo deriva dal fatto che cambiano…

[cultlix]

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?

pair. idol! minho x fem reader | genre. toxic relationship, smut, angst | warnings. oral sex (rimming), penetrative/unprotected sex, fingering, cum tasting, use of pet names, possessive behavior.

synopsis. God, hearing you like this, would have been worth all the misery and the desolation you left behind and inside his aching heart each time you swore you couldn't take it anymore, would have been worth every wound, every risk, every sacrifice. After all, he said to himself, mind dangerously blinded by his constant, almost chronic fear of losing you for good, haven't we already been there?

author's note. on my period...

➽──────────────❥

Insane.

The way you depended on each other, hurt each other, loved each other was just insane.

"Spread your legs."

Minho stood behind you, shower water pouring violently on his sculpted shoulder blades, his naked chest firmly pressed against your arched back as his tongue licked your lobe, mouth sucking on it, then moved lazily to your neck. His hand untightened his grip around your throat to slide on your sensual, swollen breast, fingertips delicately circling, pinching your perked, sensitive nipple.

"Fuck…" you whimpered, feeling his other free hand ghosting suddenly on your inner thigh, unbearably too far from your soft nub.

"Bid me to stop," he whispered, his lenght strongly twitching when he heard you crying of pleasure when he finally reached your clit, skimming it, "tell me to go, tell me you don't want this and I'll disappear from your life." He brushed it, so slowly that he could almost distinguish the exact moment your sex started gushing its honey-like essence under his velvety touch.

You pressed your forehead against the shower wall, palms well planted on it desperately looking for any kind of support, mouth hanging open while trying in vain to formulate an answer that could make any sense.

It was always like this between you and Minho, severing and then unshamelessly crawling back to each other, to the pain and the torment, to the angry, consuming sex, to whatever killed you and made you feel alive at the same time, slipping deep down the limbo you both created the moment your worlds collided in the blink of an eye. The ultimate, lethally addictive, indulgent form of self-destructive behavior. Haven't we already been there? you asked yourself, lost in the sweetest, most dangerous of all deliriums.

"One word," he urged you, mastering superbly like no other the art of pleasing and teasing as they were one and the same, "that's all I need from you."

Just one word. Your death sentence, your own, personal twisted kind of salvation.

"Don't," you implored.

He knelt down, hands grabbing your hips, forcing you to bend so that your buttocks were close enough to his face. You blushed immediately feeling so exposed, vulnerable, hissing at that new, uncomfortable proximity keeping you guessing. He held his grasp around them, indulging in the sensation of their flawless roundness, of the temperature of your skin raising, of the muscles of your legs tensing and flexing pervaded by rough frissons of excitement.

"Fuck angel, your scent…so wet for me and I didn't even started with you yet." You cried, incapable of any self control, breath coming out in short, irregular gasps when his agile tongue smoothly caressed your most secret hole, flattening to stroke it lusciously, dancing at a calculated, devastating sluggishness, the rosy tip drawing perfect halos on the edges of your entrance, tapping swiftly on its forbidden core to make you writhe in ecstasy for the stimulation, to make you stretch enough to allow him to enter you with his insatiable wet muscle. His fingers slid carefully into your dripping cunt, easily plunging in and coming out of it coated in your silken, delicious nectar, at a calm, gentle pace, curling, scissoring, relishing how deeply they could push themselves inch by inch inside your desirous, beseeching body.

Minho felt his erection growing harder, his exigency to have you, to possess you completely becoming so intolerable that he sincerely worried about his own sanity.

Shit, can't live without this, he thought, cock throbbing unrestrainedly while watching you losing every fiber of yourself under his hungry eyes, everytime his quick arts and his skilled tongue increased or decreased their rhythm on both your crevices to please you, to torture you. Since the day he first exchanged glances with you fortuitously, there has never been any greater obsession than fucking you, any stronger yearning than making you cum calling his name, showing you how you were supposed to feel when a real man was inside you, thrusting into your tight, tempting little pussy so hard and fast, so deep and good to teach you that lust and love would have always been intrinsecally, viscerally indissoluble if you'd allow him to make you his.

"Minho, I…" you panted, agonizing, under the inescapable force of the most sublime oblivion as he added another deadly dose of pleasure by playing with your clit with his other hand.

God, hearing you like this, would have been worth all the misery and the desolation you left behind and inside his aching heart each time you swore you couldn't take it anymore, would have been worth every wound, every risk, every sacrifice. After all, he said to himself, mind dangerously blinded by his constant, almost chronic fear of losing you for good, haven't we already been there?

Minho recognized the sporadic contractions becoming recurring, stronger, barely painful around his digits, the simultaneous jerks, the fragmented gasps, the weak, subtle undulating motions that your hips made to desperately match his strenuous pace, and his name, fuck, his name on your lips, sounding like the purest, most innocent of supplications, making his thick, pulsating shaft so stiff, leaking so much already, that he couldn't resist any longer.

Can't, no, won't live without this, without her, he promised himself, as he watched you slowly becoming defenseless at his mercy when his licks got more intense, painstakingly prolonged, and his shoves got uncontrollably feverish, till there'll be nothing left of me, nothing left of both of us.

Your orgasm was shockingly potent, annihilating, making you cum shattered and overwhelmed by an alarming, enticing whirlwind of conflicts, of doubts and delights.

Your instinct, now scarcely reliable, struggling between telling you to run away from him and exhorting you to trust him once again. If this is what pain feels like, I want it, I'll take it, God, I'll take everything as long as it's for him, you reassured yourself, slowly recovering from that total state of daze.

He got up, his imposing figure upright behind your tiny one again, his tentalizing hardness impossible to ignore pressed against your back.

"Look at me," he ordered under his breath with his most authoritative tone, making you turn around with a certain impetuosity, forcing you to meet his enigmatic, dignified look, "open your mouth."

His fingers brushed against your parted lips till they slithered swiftly into your cavity.

"This is what your pussy tastes like when I'm fucking you, the smell, the flavor that stays on my skin, on my mind for days everytime that gorgeous body of yours melts underneath my touch, reacting to me and me only. Did you really think I'd give up so easily on you? On us? No chance. No other men out there, I swear, no other fucking men out there is gonna take you away from me. Do you understand?"

You stared back at him still sucking on his long digits, never avoiding eye contact provocatively.

"Tell me you understand," he insisted.

You nodded, blinking. "I do."

"Alright, fuck me now."

Minho pushed you against the wall and kissed you voraciously, your mouth willingly surrendering to his ferocious, ravenous one, enraptured by the sensation of feeling carried away, devoured by his irrepressible fervor, his ardent desire. He lifted your leg and put it around his waist, holding firmly your thigh, then rubbed his cock against your softness to let it drown entirely in the lush mixture of both your juices. Moans and cries raised almost at unison when his tip pressed against your slippery folds, when you both watched agog his girth feverishly disappearing into your warm, narrow slit.

He hissed cursing, shutting his eyes and lowering his head, enjoying the lewd sound of how your cunt clenched so greedily around him as his hips crashed rhythmically, impatiently, roughly against yours. He focused spellbound on your flawless features as you begged him to wreck you, to take whatever he wanted from you, everything and even more, to leave just the crumbs of your mind, body and soul, because they meant less than nothing if they weren't for him to take, to own.

"Tell me you love me," he commanded in breathy murmurs, voice shaking and breaking when he heard your words, when your pussy started clutching his turgid cock making him feel powerless, strenghtless, anxious to finally unleash his long-desired orgasm.

"M-Minho…" you plead, his shoves still dangerously draining, precise.

"S-shit, angel, say it," he asked again, wrestling with the feral need to let himself go, "f-fuck, I can't wait n-no more."

You pressed your forehead against his, the tip of your nose skimming his, tongue playfully tracing his upper lip, sighing, calling his name passionately, and then three whispered words, saturated with ardor and devotion.

"I love you."

He released inside you, moaning loudly into your open mouth, attempting to seal your tacit promise of forever with a fiery kiss, making you cum shuddering violently in his safe embrace, as his thick seed flowed painting your convulsing walls, sending you on the verge of euphoria for the second time that night.

"I love you," he echoed, placing a chaste kiss on your temple and nuzzling at the crook of your neck, his rock-hard lenght slowly softening still buried under your skin before he delicately pulled out, "stop pushing me away, stop putting my goddamn patience and my constancy to the test." His words were clear and simple, unvarnished, ten times more dangerous for that brutal honesty, authenticity.

"I swear, there's nothing worse, utterly wrong or more harmful that I can do to myself than staying away from you," Minho brushed his thumb against your lips, lowering his tone to give emphasis to his last phrase, "don't fucking make me, angel."

You kissed him on your tiptoes and that old, terrifying sensation of falling into quicksand was there again, but now it felt almost familiar, comforting. Though it was insane the way you depended on each other, hurt each other, loved each other, it was the only one that worked for you, that somehow felt real.

And it was fine like that.

You would have taken everything as long as it was for him.

The late night fights, the handwritten apology notes on your pillow the morning after, the unavoidable sense of alienation when you were thrown into his sparkling, deceiving world of favors and privileges, the mistrust of his closest friends suggesting him to move on and forget about you, the unwholesome and shared jelousy leading to fuck each other senseless in some random night club bathroom just because someone had the audacity of watching you while you were on the dancefloor, or of smiling at him while he was sipping a drink sat alone at the bar counter. Just a kind reminder that you were only his to claim and he was solely yours to keep.

You would have gone through it all over again.

I don't care. I'm not scared.

© cultlix, 2024. all rights reserved.

[wifeyoozi]

Wonwoo formulated the best method to help you ace your test (tw : overstim, edging, fingering)

The room was quiet, the only sound the ticking of a clock somewhere in the background. Wonwoo sat behind you on the bed, his legs spread, his back resting against the headboard. You were perched on his lap, naked, your back pressed against his chest. His large hands rested on your thighs, fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin, sending shivers up your spine.

You could feel the heat of his body, the hardness of him pressing against your lower back. Your heart raced, not just from the close proximity, but from what was about to happen.

“Ready?” Wonwoo asked, his voice low and calm.

You swallowed hard and nodded, your throat dry.

“Remember, if you get it right, I’ll reward you,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. “But if you get it wrong… there’ll be consequences.”

You shivered at the dark promise in his voice, your nerves tingling with anticipation and a hint of fear.

Wonwoo’s hand moved from your thigh, his fingers sliding between your legs to rest against your clit. You gasped at the contact, your hips instinctively shifting toward his touch. He chuckled softly, but didn’t give you more, just a light, teasing pressure that made you ache for more.

“First question,” he said, his voice even. “What’s the derivative of \( e^{x^2} \)?”

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing as you tried to focus on the question despite the distraction of his fingers.

“Um… the derivative of \( e^{x^2} \) is… 2x times \( e^{x^2} \),” you answered, your voice trembling.

“Good girl,” Wonwoo praised, and his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the pressure just enough to make you moan softly.

The pleasure built slowly, a delicious ache that made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to stay focused if you wanted more.

“Next question,” Wonwoo said after a moment, his voice still calm, though you could feel the tension in his body. “What is the Fourier transform of a Gaussian function?”

You bit your lip, trying to push the pleasure to the back of your mind and focus on the question.

“The Fourier transform of a Gaussian function is… another Gaussian function,” you answered, barely managing to keep your voice steady.

“Very good,” Wonwoo murmured, his fingers moving faster, pressing harder against your clit. The pleasure spiked, making you whimper as your hips bucked against his hand, seeking more.

But then he stopped. His fingers stilled, resting just on the edge of pleasure, not enough to push you over.

Your breath hitched, the sudden absence of movement driving you crazy with need.

“Next question,” Wonwoo said, his voice taking on a darker edge. “What’s the solution to Schrödinger’s equation for a particle in a one-dimensional box?”

Your mind went blank for a moment, the ache between your legs distracting you from the question. You knew this, you knew you knew this, but the pleasure was clouding your thoughts.

“It’s… it’s… the wavefunction… is sinusoidal inside the box and zero outside,” you stammered, your voice desperate, hoping you got it right.

“Close,” Wonwoo said, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment, “but not quite correct.”

He pulled his hand away completely, and you whimpered in frustration, your body aching with need. But then, without warning, his hand came down hard on your thigh, the sharp sting making you gasp.

“Wrong answer,” Wonwoo said, his tone stern. “We start over.”

You bit back a whine, your skin tingling from where he had smacked you. But you knew the rules. You had to get it right if you wanted your reward.

Wonwoo’s hand returned to your clit, his fingers teasing you lightly, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to satisfy.

“What is an inner orbital complex?” he asked, his voice calm, as if he wasn’t driving you to the brink of madness with every touch.

You tried to focus, tried to push the frustration away and think clearly.

“its, uhm, the octahedral complex with d²sp³ hybridization which has... uh... lesser number of unpaired electrons,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with desperation.

“Very good,” Wonwoo praised, and his fingers resumed their slow, torturous pace. The pleasure built again, slowly driving you closer to the edge, making your hips move involuntarily against his hand.

“Next question,” he said after a moment, his voice steady. “What is the Riemann hypothesis?”

You took a deep breath, trying to focus despite the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

“The Riemann hypothesis… states that all nontrivial zeros of the Riemann zeta function have a real part of one-half,” you answered, your voice quivering.

“Perfect,” Wonwoo murmured, and his fingers sped up, pushing you closer and closer to release. You could feel the pleasure building, the tight knot in your stomach coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

But then he stopped again, his fingers leaving you just on the edge, so close to release but not quite there. You whimpered, your body trembling with need.

“Next question,” he said, his voice dark with promise. “Second law of thermodynamics is?”

You tried to think, but the frustration and the aching need made it hard to focus. You knew the answer, you knew you did, but your mind was foggy, clouded with desire.

“It’s… uhm… in any natural process, the total entropy of an isolated system will always increase over time” you finally managed to say, your voice almost a whine.

“Excellent,” Wonwoo said, his voice approving, and this time, his fingers didn’t stop. He kept moving, faster and faster, harder and harder, until the pleasure became overwhelming. You could feel it building, reaching its peak, and then—

You came hard, your body convulsing on his lap, a strangled cry escaping your lips as the orgasm crashed over you. Your vision went white, your mind blanking out with the intensity of the pleasure as you squirted onto his hand.

But Wonwoo didn’t stop. He continued to move his fingers, prolonging your release, making your body tremble and twitch with aftershocks of pleasure.

When you finally came down from your high, your body was spent, your legs trembling, but the satisfaction on Wonwoo’s face made it all worth it.

He brought his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers clean with a satisfied hum.

“You did well,” he said, his voice soft, almost tender. “But we’re not finished yet.”

You barely had time to register his words before he was touching you again, his fingers slipping back between your legs, teasing your oversensitive clit.

You whimpered, but your body responded eagerly, the need building once more despite the exhaustion.

“Let’s see how many more times you can cum for me,” Wonwoo murmured, his voice dark with promise.

And so the cycle began again, his fingers driving you to the edge of bliss over and over until you were a trembling, whimpering mess on his lap, your mind hazy with pleasure, your body aching with the sweet agony of being pushed to your limits.

By the time he was done, you had lost count of how many times you came, your body sore and spent, but completely satisfied.

Wonwoo held you close, his arms wrapped around you as you both caught your breath, the room filled with the sound of your soft panting.

“You did so well,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re going to ace that exam.”

You smiled weakly, too exhausted to respond, but knowing that no matter what happened, this study session was one you would never forget.