#instead of any kind of rewarding

[auroramosaic]

i need to get on that Doing Things And Having A Good Time shit. desperate for that Brain Chemical Reward From Doing Things I Am Supposed To Love honestly

[llatimeria]

btw unless you deliberately go "i am going to pretend to have a disability of some kind to reap the social benefits of having people pity me/donate to me/etc" you are not faking

[good-beans]

WE DID IT

[inkskinned]

the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.

when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."

but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.

now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.

the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.

but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."

the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.

but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?

because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!

and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

[nereidprinc3ss]

no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)

in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex

18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me

“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”

You blink your eyes open in the dark room��reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?

“Hm?”

He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face. 

“I asked you if you’re with me.”

It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin. 

“Oh.”

It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern. 

“You okay?”

This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately. 

“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”

“Mhm,” you manage. 

Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry. 

“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough. 

“Mm-mm.”

It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that. 

He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”

Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before. 

Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true. 

“Overwhelmed.”

The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up. 

“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”

You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case. 

“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”

Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle. 

“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”

“Right.”

“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”

“Yes.”

If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”

You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come. 

“Do you want a bath in a little while?”

Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”

Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this. 

He’s actually really looking forward to it.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

I hate the specific brand of toxic positivity that people here reserve specifically for anyone complaining about clueless americans.

Like. With the whole redbook thing I think americans sharing a space with chinese people and unlearning a lot of their misconceptions about the world is a good thing and should be celebrated and encouraged.

But also a lot of the people posting about it are posting about it like up until this happened they thought of everyone else outside of the US as weird alien NPCs automatons. Also shit like this

"Do you guys experience completely normal human experiences in China or are we special in the US?" as if that's not an absolutely unhinged thing to ask.

And no one can make any post about how it's actually very worrying that americans are Like That to the point that grown-ass adults are acting like "people in other countries are normal people with emotions and a sense of humor" is some kind of mind-blowing revelation and not literally something everyone should know just by virtue of seeing people outside of the imperial core as human without a hundred of the most annoying motherfuckers on this website clogging the notes with shit like "well how about instead of punishing people for not already knowing things you already know you instead reward them for learning and encourage them to learn more?" "remember that what is common sense to you might not be common sense to everyone, your experiences are not universal" like really? Are you going to do that about THIS? Like remember that the thing you're saying we're not allowed to judge americans for not already knowing is "people from other parts of the world are people just like you and me". I think it's actually perfectly okay to judge them for not already knowing that in their mid-20's.

[lackadaisycats]

I hope you know that literally nobody is going to be able to live up to the standard you, V*v, and Glitch have set and your arrogance and exploitation of your fanbase and connections has screwed millions of creatives out of their dreams because Hollywood is a joke that isn't worth telling and wealthy e-celebs like yourself have claimed the indie scene all to yourselves and moved the goalposts into the stratosphere.

Nope. This isn't a zero sum game. There is not some limited, prescribed number of indie trophy slots that a few studios greedily filled up, blocking everyone else out. That is not how it works. Nothing any other creator is doing - short of personally sending hired goons to your doorstep or stealing your credit cards - is taking anything away from you or preventing your success. In fact if an indie creator can manage to demonstrate that they've got something viable going, it may help to map out a pathway for others.

I think I'm not going to bother trying to address whether or not cartoons in return for support from fans - an entirely voluntary exchange - constitutes exploitation. And I'm living in the Midwest driving a 2007 economy car with 200k+ miles on it, but let's just skip past the assumptions that I'm wealthy and connected too.

Instead, let's get to the weirdly myopic notion that the indie scene is held captive by three studios. Maybe YouTube algorithms or Twitter bubbles are somewhat to blame, but in actuality there are so, so many individual people, friend groups, and small production houses out there making independent animation, I cannot possibly name them all.

Here are some anyway:

Far-Fetched Worthikids Satina | Scumhouse Noodle and Bun Punch Punch Forever Ramshackle Noodle Papajoolia | Pipi Angel Hare | The East Patch Jonni Peppers Salad Fingers Monkey Wrench Studio Heartbreak Felix Colgrave JelloApocalypse Odd1sout (started indie, got picked up by Netflix) Allie Mehner JaidenAnimations Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy Cloudrise | The Worlds Divide Telepurte RubberRoss James Lee ENA Godspeed | Olan Rogers Ollie and Scoops Meat Canyon Port by the Sea Kekeflipnote Boxtown Kevin Temmer Weebl Joel Haver CircleToons Long Gone Gulch Atlas and the Stars Animist Skibidi Toilet A Fox in Space Alex Henderson Talon Toniko Pantoja Sr. Pelo Hullabaloo Kane Pixels (started indie, picked up by A24) Homestar Runner Fennah Gods' School Alan Becker Dungeon Flippers JazLyte Psychicpebbles (started indie, Smiling Friends picked up by AS) Piemations vewn Metal Family Dead Sound chluaid Jacknjellify Betsy Lee | No Evil My Pride Cranbersher GeoExe | Gwain Saga Horatio the Vampire Mech West Playground | Rodrigo Sousa The Brave Locomotive Finchwing (+ many other Warrior Cats animators) Quazies SamBakZa Kamikaze: Trial by Fire

By no means a full list. That's just YouTube, and mostly just English language stuff, and I didn't even get to the multitudes of Warrior Cats animation collabs.

The point is, the indie landscape is vast and populated by creators new and old, making all kinds of animated media from skits, to shows, to ARGs, to films. Audience sizes vary as much as the content, stylistic approaches, subject matter, and budgets do. There are no compliance standards, no gateways to entry, no goalposts. There's not even any preset definition of success except what you decide for yourself.

Anyway, instead of nurturing your resentments, consider making something. I assure you, it's a far more rewarding use of your time and energy, and pretty much no one can stop you. ------------- EDIT- Made some additions to the list based on comments. Thanks!

[suguann]

an. part two of this | masterlist

You tell him you broke up with your boyfriend while he’s away for work, bunked up in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with shit reception, hearing your words as clear as day as if they weren’t the chopped-up version coming through his burner phone.

“It just…didn’t work out.”

It didn’t work out.

He pretends his stomach doesn’t pleasantly twist because he’d expected it to happen eventually. He’s not happy about it—although it does make the desert heat more bearable in his heavy tactical gear—and tells Soap to fuck off when he comments on it.

It was a one-time fuck because Simon doesn’t date. He’s tried in the past before he met you—the flowers, the late-night dinners—but with him being gone almost every other month (sometimes longer, shorter if he’s lucky), it never works out in the end. Sleeping with you twice would fall under that category, the quasi-relationship kind, and make everything messier than it needs to be. 

Just some fun, no strings, those are the words he promised.

If only he believed them.

He does, for all of two weeks until he’s home again, and it’s summer, so you’re wearing a flowy dress that shows off the long expanse of your legs. 

(He’s a goner—not even sure why he tried to think otherwise.)

That one time he’d promised turns into a second, both of you stumbling into your apartment after a night out. The music from the pub still thumping loudly underneath your floor as he pushes you against the front door, hands in your hair—on your waist, underneath your skirt, down your thigh to hitch it over his waist—teasing your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue across your bottom lip.

You make this delighted little noise in the back of your throat, arching into him, and his hand spans down your stomach, beneath your underwear, to nudge your messy clit with his knuckle, wanting to hear all the sounds you make now that he has you alone. 

A whiny cry of his name rewards him—jeans tightening around his waist at the sound—when his fingers go down, down until they press against your tight little hole, one finger pressing inside slowly. "If I make you cum, I get to fuck you here.”

You smile prettily, and it disarms him. “If you make me cum, you can fuck me however you want.”

Neither of you makes it to the bed, falling asleep on the living room floor instead, the blanket from the couch draped haphazardly over both of you with his arm curled over your waist.

That night had been a slip of judgment, a product of wanting something warm and soft after several months of only having his hand for company.

It happens again and again, and he keeps letting it happen until there’s no more hiding under the guise of just fun because it somehow turns into a lot more than that.

Simon can’t explain how it happens—maybe becoming something he can touch and hold and think about often—but he finds himself in an exclusive relationship with you that isn’t exactly a relationship because he’s unsure of the ins and outs that they entail.

(Always has been.)

His father was a shit role model, and it was always easier finding someone new who didn’t know his name or care about his scars and only wanted a nice fuck. There had never been any point in shooting for something serious when it was always out of the question for him, until now, that is.

He takes you to that over-rated restaurant overlooking the Thames Marcus never brought you to. A picture of you and him with the sunset in the background—your smile almost blinding in the photo—becomes his home screen, and he finds he doesn’t care when Soap has something to say about it.

He lets you do nonsensical shit, like buying small plants for his house that are surely going to die from him being gone before he comes up with the great idea to give you a key. It’s just a key.

(It’s more than just a key.)

Simon finds himself asking if he can come over more often throughout the week, which slowly moulds and shifts into nights filled with things other than sex—sleeping after a long day of work, cuddling on the couch, cooking together, going to the movies—he doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it because you used to hang out all the time without sex. 

(Somewhere, there’s a but in there.)

There’s still no label to whatever this is, and he wonders if you want him to be the first to say the thing you’ve both been dancing around for a little over…he can’t remember, but he knows it’s been long enough for your things to mix in with his at his house. 

Be with me because I’m yours, and you’re mine, that’s what he’s trying to say, and it’s never the right time. Men like him—a little broken, rough, and jagged around the edges sharp enough to cut—aren’t good with words like that.

(That’s what he thought.)

If he hadn’t seen you talking to a guy at the pub, eyes crinkling in that same sweet way whenever Simon makes you laugh, he wonders if he would’ve been the first to break from the start. He knows it’s your job as a bartender to be nice, but his jaw clicks at the sight of the guy leaning over the bar and into your space, almost too close.

The feeling doesn’t go away until he has you spread out on your mattress under him—clothes haphazardly peeled out of the way for him to put his mouth on you—your lips pursed tight around two of his fingers to give you something to focus on as his other hand works between your thighs, pressing down on your tongue when gurgled little sounds slip out.

He teases you with a small, pink vibrator he found inside your bedside table, your legs kicking out and toes curling into his calves.

“Mine. This is mine, love,” he groans, pressing you further into the bed with his weight. “Do you understand?”

You nod, tears pearling and leaking from the corner of your eyes.

“Lemme cum,” you whine, words muffled. “Simon, I want to cum. Please.”

He won’t lie that he’s close after jerking into his fist to the sight of you writhing on the sheets—swears he can feel his heartbeat throbbing against the back of his fingers—takes in your surprised expression when he pushes forward, impaling you on the first few inches of his cock.

His stomach twists from the squeal that escapes your throat, and fuck, your cunt, so hot and tight with little pulses that drive him crazy, only growing tighter when he turns up the speed on the vibrator.

“‘Mm, gonna cum. I’m—”

He grits his teeth as you start to flutter around his cock once he’s rooted inside you. “Go on—fuck—go on, love. Let me feel it.”

You look so perfect like this, like a dream: lips parted into an enticing little O with his name tumbling out in breathy mewls, tits hanging out from the bra he shoved to the side, eyes glassy and unfocused. 

“So fucking pretty.” He kisses your throat, panting into your sweat-slick skin, and it’s not long before he’s falling over the edge with you. 

Next time, he’ll have the courage to tell you: that you’re not someone he calls for a meaningless fuck on the weekend, that Simon misses you when he’s gone and can’t wait to come home, that he wants to try with you—except not when he’s balls deep and trembling inside your heavenly cunt.

But the smile he feels against his shoulder makes him think that maybe…

Maybe you already know.

[prefrontal-bastard]

I’m not sure if this is permitted in other countries, but here in the US, advertisers are allowed to use any kind of malignant psychology they want in their ads so long as those ads fit within the allotted time-frame.

Back in high school, my class watched a video on how a certain Coca-Cola advertisement was made. You may have seen it, but for those who haven’t: The ad featured a cinematic montage of a crowded beach with smiling thin white people enjoying their leisure time and drinking Coca-Cola out of a common plastic bottle.

The big takeaway from this video was that the ad wasn’t actually advertising Coca-Cola. It was advertising a lifestyle. By associating Coca-Cola with a desirable lifestyle (as well as qualities associated with desirability) it plants the association of “Coca-Cola” with “happiness” in people’s subconscious minds.

This becomes clear when you consider who the ad was meant for. The target audience wasn’t the smiling thin white people that the ad featured, but instead it was people who wanted to be smiling thin white people. This was an ad for the Gen X mom of three kids who worked full-time, who relied on shelf-stable foods to keep everyone fed, and whose nervous system was chronically fried from the stress of never having adequate time for herself.

If she was at the grocery store, and saw the very same bottle of Coca-Cola featured in that ad, she’d be far more likely to pick it up than she was before watching it. If she didn’t anticipate finding relief for her stress, then she could at least drink up the idea of it.

Of course, the thing about ads is that they stop working. Eventually, people’s minds grow wise to the fact buying a certain product doesn’t actually grant them the lifestyle associated with them.

But there’s a lot of other tricks ads employ beyond this.

The reason why Geico is the first company you consider when thinking about buying car insurance is because of the calm, consistent nature of their ads and the fact they’re ubiquitous enough to be familiar. Their mascot forms a kind of parasocial rapport with the audience, so Geico already feels familiar to you by the time you’re looking to buy insurance.

Cereal brands use cartoon-character-like mascots to make their product memorable to kids who can’t read. The reason why so many cereal mascots exhibit such frenetic, possessive behavior is to teach kids to emulate that behavior to compel parents into buying them the cereal, especially if they saw that behavior rewarded in the ad (with the cereal).

You only really see ads for apps on an app-based devices for a reason.

Then there are the ads that don’t look like ads, but look like people on TikTok sharing a new secret product with their audience using the only communication format we regularly trust: word-of-mouth.

And let’s not forget the sheer magnitude of ads that exist. I can’t go outside without seeing them. I can’t watch videos online without exposing myself to ads that wants to skewer my emotions within 10 seconds.

There’s no reprieve from it unless I wall myself off from our culture entirely.

Ads are parasites to both culture and to cognition, and they must be regulated.

[sincerelybubbles]

Spencer holds your hand while you argue.

"Physical connection with a partner, especially during tense moments, is proven to aid in communication and connection."

It's something you found odd at first - annoyed, you tried to shrug him off, but he persisted, fingers clutching yours and dipping his head to hold eye contact. Now, though, you appreciate the habit.

"You have to trust me to do my job," you're saying, one hand linked in his and the other tapping along his forearm. "I'm the exact type the unsub is looking for. Emily will be right beside me, she'll have her gun-"

"But you won't," Spencer interrupts, squeezing your fingers and avoiding your eye.

The connection reminds you that he's simply concerned for your safety, not doubting your ability to do your job. Still, annoyance flares in your chest and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"He's looking for women he finds attractive - women with my eye color, my weight, my height, my hair color. He's got military background, he'll notice if I'm armed."

"He'll notice if you're wearing your vest, too," Spencer argues, nostrils flaring.

You both know that this argument is pointless. You're not going to say no to Hotch's assignment and it's been cleared by him already. Spencer doesn't have the rank to outvote him. Still, it's important to you that he understands, that he's comfortable, that he trusts you.

You keep holding his hand, returning his squeeze, and massaging his other forearm. You're in a small office in the small-town sheriff's office the team set up in. You can smell the sour dust in the air and the Texas heat causes sweat to gather on your forehead.

"Love, Emily will be right there. Morgan will be in the bar, too, and Hotch and Rossi will be outside. They're not going to let anything happen."

"I don't like it," Spencer says, voice firm. Compromise isn't clear - you can't say no, he doesn't want you to say yes.

Despite your best efforts, you sigh. Truly, you're just proud of yourself for not letting the eye-roll escape. You kind of think you deserve a reward for the effort.

You want to tell him that he doesn't really have a say in any of this. You're leaving in twenty minutes to get ready with Emily and JJ. An hour after that, you'll be in a bar pretending to sip a vodka cranberry and waiting for your unsub to hit on you.

Instead, you lean forward to catch Spencer in a hug, untangling your hands and looping your arms around his neck. "I know."

You meet him in a soft kiss, brief because of the setting. It's the best comfort you can offer him.

He sighs softly against your forehead when you pull away, hugging you tight.

"I'll be there too. Outside with Hotch and Rossi. I don't care where Hotch wants me."

"Okay," you whisper into his shoulder. Despite how high-strung you are considering the circumstances, the hug is calming you down, rapidly slowing your heartbeat.

He's right, as always -- the physical connection has you calmer instantly.

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Luo Binghe answers Shen Qingqiu's "do you want power?" question differently, so Shen Qingqiu cannot mentally justify pushing him into the Abyss, and resolves to just let the System kill him instead. Even though he doesn't want to die, it's probably still better to just get yeeted out of his body than to be brutally dismembered after forcing his favorite disciple to suffer terribly.

However, the System picks up on this philosophical shift in the user, and begins to take counter-measures.

Without-a-Cure ratchets up exponentially. Around the same time, Luo Binghe discovers an ancient record in the libraries that claims some rare compound or other which can only be found in the Endless Abyss, is reputed to cure all poisons, even the most deadly spiritual kind.

When Shen Qingqiu is too weak to even attend the Immortal Alliance Conference, Luo Binghe initially plans to stay by his bedside. But then he overhears Shang Qinghua whispering about a mysterious plot with a being on the other side of a portal, about arranging a demonic invasion, and afterwards, his shishu mutters something about the Endless Abyss.

Luo Binghe returns to his unconscious master's bedside, and begs him to hold on for however long it will take, because Binghe will return with the cure.

By the time Shen Qingqiu's fever breaks, the Immortal Alliance has come and gone, and with it his poor disciple. What's worse, the whole cultivation world seems to have caught on to the fact that Luo Binghe is a demon! That wasn't supposed to come out yet! But without Shen Qingqiu to help shield him, his seal broke early and in front of more than a few witnesses. Cang Qiong has fallen under a lot of unflattering speculation for harboring such a "creature".

Shen Qingqiu supposes he should have known that there would be no escaping fate. And yet, even with the knowledge that Binghe will come back, and that this time he won't even harbor a grudge against his master for pushing him in, that -- in a sense -- Shen Yuan has been spared and this is probably the 'best case scenario', somehow it's not any easier to deal with. Especially not when he knows that his poor disciple doesn't even want the rewards that will follow after it, that he's suffering for nothing except the fickle mandates of some narrative destiny.

Also, he didn't figure out that Shang Qinghua is Airplane, so he has no fellow transmigrator to understand or help him vent. He's just alone in his knowledge, sickly, fretted over and grieving (not that he can admit the latter), while the sect whispers that the Xiu Ya sword is probably not long for this world now. If the poison doesn't kill him, perhaps his disgrace will. Cang Qiong's good name has been dragged through the mud, and Huan Hua Palace is looking to beat it down further. There are even some who claim that Luo Binghe must have been behind Sha Hualing's earlier invasion, and poisoned his own master because of it! Shen Qingqiu can't stand such talk, nor the pitying, condescending looks he receives whenever he tries to defend his disciple's character.

The writing is on the wall, however. If Shen Qingqiu won't die as a scum villain, the story seems to be planning to kill him off as the tragically deceased mentor.

Meanwhile Luo Binghe takes longer to get out of the Abyss this time. Not for lack of motivation, but because he needs to find his goddamn macguffin first! And then he has to protect it, and get both it and himself safely out of the Abyss! Which means he can't just rush through killing everything, he has to take his time to plan and prepare, even though he wants to rush through because every minute he spends in the Abyss is another minute where Shen Qingqiu could be dying.

When Binghe finally gets out, it's to find that the righteous sects, headed by Huan Hua Palace, are conducting a formal investigation into Cang Qiong Mountain, specifically into the allegations of consorting with demons and the corruption of the Qing Jing Peak Lord. He hurries to the palace to intervene, though by what means even he's not sure.

He arrives just as the Huan Hua Palace disciples are removing Shen Qingqiu's nearly-lifeless body from the water prison.

Just in time for the expected stirring final words of his old shizun, Shen Qingqiu thinks. Imagine his surprise when Luo Binghe force-feeds him a weird potion plus like a liter of blood. Binghe, this is not the dignified end that your shizun had planned!

[muirmarie]

mccoy and spock get together towards the end of the five year mission, and spock is very, "obviously the doctor is aware that vulcans do not have casual relationships and almost always mate for life" and mccoy is, of course, "getting that damn vulcan to open up is like pulling teeth, how am i supposed to know how he feels about me" and this causes new and exciting problems when they're trying to sort out what they're DOING after the end of the five year mission

and mccoy is trying to subtly figure out if spock has any interest in being stationed together, and spock is, of course, the doctor is my mate, of course we will stay together, and mccoy gets offered this really exciting opportunity at a cutting edge research station that's still hands on enough with patients that it's perfect for him, and he kind of tosses it out there one evening to spock, hoping to get something from the bastard, and instead spock just skims through and stone face is like "in my opinion you should accept, it is precisely the opportunity you've been looking for" and mccoy sits there after spock leaves, like okay!!! i guess we're breaking up?? is this not even enough of a relationship for him to consider it a break up??? i may have to kill him. no jury would convict me. what! is! he! thinking!, and spock goes back to his quarters and immediately sends them a message like "i would like to apply for a position as well :)"

and mccoy still won't fucjing SAY what he MEANS because he doesn't want to be left vulnerable now that he's convinced himself that spock simply Doesn't Care Enough, and every time he at least tries to get like, some meaningful goodbye moments???? spock keeps blowing him off??? meanwhile spock is like "it is rewarding to know that the doctor wants to spend time with me, but i know he will miss our friends, and as his mate it is important for me to make sure he spends enough time with his friends before we all leave the ship", and then when mccoy says he's going to go visit joanna before he starts his new assignment, spock's like =/ wish he invited me along but I will respect his wishes and says he's going to go to vulcan between assignments, and then it's over! they're saying goodbye! and spock! just! leaves! and mccoy is just. absolutely furious and trying So Hard to Not Care but also!!! so!!!! furious!!!!

so anyway imagine his surprise when he arrives at the research facility for his new assignment three weeks later, and they're like "doctor mccoy!! so nice to meet you! your husband arrived two days ago, and he took it upon himself to set up your shared quarters and your office to your liking, but let us know if you need anything else, we're so thrilled to have you on board!"

and mccoy is just.

"i'm sorry. what did you just say?"

and spock comes walking out like everything is normal, and gives him the little vulcan finger kiss, and turns to the welcome party and says, "husband is a simplification of a vulcan term - we have not performed the human marriage rites, but he is my mate"

anyway yeah mccoy probably tries to strangle him.

they make a great first impression.

[casuallyanidiot]

I think that getting into a situationship with a yandere would be the worst thing ever.

Nsfw themes!

Yandere situationship and you met at a party, and you just kind of hit it off from there. You were both drunker than you probably should have been when you slept with him, but from the blurry bits and pieces you can recall, it was amazing. You remember how much your legs were shaking by the end of it, and you thought that if he was that good then, then you couldn't imagine how good he would be sober.

Yandere situationship who messages you frequently after that. He just wants to know everything about you, and you end up learning more about him as well. You have similar taste in music, shows, food etc. It's almost kind of crazy how well you get along with him. He makes you laugh with barely any effort, he cooks well, and the sex is fucking mind blowing. You'd like to date him, honestly, and you get the feeling that he's kind of prompting you towards that decision, but there's always something that holds you back.

Mainly, that fucker is clingy.

You wouldn't blame him for being a bit clingy or possessive. You might judge him a bit, given the fact that the two of you aren't actually dating yet, but he gets standoffish towards anyone that he deems to be "too flirty".

You try and tell him that you're not talking to anyone else, but you find that it doesn't really matter what you say. It's almost as if he didn't care about that at all, and is rather upset that you would deign to spend time with anyone other than him at all.

Yandere situationship who starts to linger around places you frequent in order to talk to you more. It feels like he wants to integrate himself into your life. He wants to be friends with the people you're friends with, wants to go to the parties you do. Any corner you turn, he's somehow there with a charming smile that ,while it does admittedly creep you out, you can't say no to.

You almost wish that he would properly ask you out instead of trying to just engulf your whole life. Maybe that way you could actually figure out what the fuck you should do about him. You feel like the sensible thing is to turn him down, but he keeps drawing you in with glimpses of what it would be like to have someone who actually cared about you.

It's affecting you badly, too.

Your friends have started to pull away, saying you were too wrapped up in Yandere situationship's bullshit. Maybe you were, but all their harsh words did was push you further and further into his coy smiles and wandering hands. It feels like lately all you can think about is him. You're constantly checking his messages, both out of fear and excitement, to see if he's said something new.

Yandere situationship who shows up at your house, greeting you with a forceful kiss when you try to yell at him for the sudden intrusion. He knows how to press your buttons, to get you right where he wants you to be. It's so frustrating, but it's so easy to just fall into what he's so obviously after.

Yandere situationship who occupies your every waking thought, holding the reward of an actual, committed relationship just out of reach, a grin on his lips the whole while.

Yandere situationship who ruins your personal life so badly, that when he finally asks you out, there's really nothing you can do besides say yes.

[peachesofteal]

more pizza girl

You're fucked.

It's the only way to explain how you feel, standing in the store, staring at bottles of liquor, wine, beer. You don't even know if this is the appropriate thing to do, but you've always seen it in shows, movies, so it must be, right?

You should have said no to this whole thing, should have told them you're busy, or you're working, or you had plans, but for some reason, you just knew they'd see through it. They'd call your bluff.

So here you were, staring at a rack of wine, trying to pick something to take to their house for dinner.

Even the thought is a marvel. You're not a complete shut in, you visit the few friends you have on occasion, your family, attend work functions, but this is different.

You know it is.

"Excuse me?" A petite old lady chirps at your shoulder, and you turn. "Do you need help?"

"Oh, um... no."

"You sure? It's just you've been standing here for almost thirty minutes." Fuck. 

"I'm fine." It comes out more assertive than you would have liked, and she backs away without another word. Great. 

You choose a six pack and book it out of there.

Their place is cozy. Not too small, not too big, clean and organized, orderly.

Except for the dog.

He's massive. 

And slobbery.

And... not for you.

Simon realizes immediately, and herds him away behind a baby gate, where he promptly slumps to the floor and closes his eyes, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.

"He's..."

"Ye dinnae have to say cute. We know he's not."

"He's a mutt," Simon tells you, placing a bowl of something hot on the table, "but he's ours. Rescued him an' everything. Never liked pets but... found him on the street an' for some reason couldn't leave him behind."

"That's so sweet." He shrugs, Johnny rolls his eyes.

"Didnae tell me a thing. Just came home with a giant slobbering bear." You eye the table and it's three chairs, suddenly overflowing with anxiety. Which one should you pick? Which ones are theirs? Do they sit next to each other? Doesn't someone always sit at the head of the table? "Take a seat wherever," Johnny coaxes but you remain frozen, avoiding their eyes.

A hand folds over your shoulder with gentle, careful pressure, and warmth. "This one." Simon urges you towards the one in the middle, and you relax, grateful.

"Sorry." You mumble, but Johnny reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.

"Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry for. We're really happy you came."

"I... I'm glad I came too." The admission tries to stick in your throat before you force it free, and they reward you with soft smiles.

"Let's eat then."

Dinner passes in a breeze. It's so easy to sit with them, be around them. Involved in their conversation but comfortable enough to bow out of it too, and just listen. They're very good at navigating it, knowing when to stop and go, when to ask you something, and when to move on.

"If you want to stay for a bit, we were thinking about watching a movie. Afraid we're not really exciting." Simon calls over his shoulder, unfolding his glasses and slipping them on his face.

"Oh." Just do it, do it, do it- "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah but no... nothing scary. I can't do those." Johnny jerks his head towards the couch.

"Nothin' scary."

Simon doesn't give you the opportunity to stress over the seating arrangement this time, and points immediately to the left side of the couch. "The button down on the side will extend the footrest, and it can lean all the way back."

"Wow." Johnny settles on the other side, and Simon takes up an overstuffed armchair to your right.

Lots of distance. You kind of feel sad about it.

Your eyelids start to droop after an hour, and no matter how hard you fight it, you're in a losing battle. "I think I should go home." You mumble, and Simon pauses the screen.

"You alright?"

"I'm falling asleep." You don't make any moves to get up, instead curling in closer, tucking your hands under your cheek. The room is warm, the couch is soft, and the dog is snoring, which is comforting, in a weird way. "Should call an uber."

"We'll drive ye."

"No, no... I'm-" you yawn. You don't want to move, and when no one says anything, you let your eyes close for a few minutes. Just a few minutes.

In the dark, who knows what time or how many minutes or hours later, a blanket is tucked around your shoulders, shoes slipped off your feet, and someone strokes your cheek, trailing up over your forehead and away, lingering briefly.

"Sleep tight sweet girl."

[district4loading]

Lazy Days

Twice Mina x Male Reader

4K Words

Content Warning: Smut, Fluff

Minors DNI

A/N: This is another request I received almost a month ago. I really hate that it took me so long to get to it especially because it isn't even that long. It's probably cause for the past few weeks I've been stressed and I've had bad headaches which really killed my motivation lol.

Anyways enough of my bitching, I really enjoyed writing this one cause Mina's been wrecking me lately so I hope you guys like it.

-

"You let me win, didn't you?"

-

"There's no way" You blink, your entire body running stiff as you watch the small pixelated character you created maybe four hours ago shrivel up and die in one of the worst ways imaginable. In the same instance you glance over to your girlfriend Mina, who's sitting right next to you on the couch. Although she doesn't look at you, you can see the smirk on her face and you begin to process that she just beat you. Again. "You've gotta be cheating!" You accuse, pressing the respawn button on your controller.

"No" She insists cutely with her whiny tone of voice "I'm just better than you" The simple shrug of her shoulders has you a bit salty. 

It's been like this all day. You both had today off, so really and truly there was no better way to spend it than to sit around all day playing video games. Truth be told, you were never a gamer before you met Mina. When she moved in with you, she brought her console too and you slowly went from watching her play occasionally to playing with her and even more than her sometimes.

"Yeah right, one more game" You run a hand through your messy hair.

Mina loves how stubborn you are, she sees it as one of your cutest traits. She just knows that although you say "one more game" you really mean "we'll play until I beat you" and it's even funnier that you refuse to admit that part.

Sure enough you end up playing four rounds instead of the 'one' you spoke of earlier "Don't you think we should be doing something else?" Mina mutters, reluctantly pressing the button for a rematch when you lose again. She glances at the time, noticing that you two have been at this all morning and it was just bleeding into the afternoon.

"Like what?" You bite your lip subconsciously, something you always did when you were trying to focus. 

"I dunno, you hungry? We could order something, watch tv, maybe go out later.." She suggests, but you barely hear any of it because not even a second after she finishes her sentence, you manage to finally beat her in the combat game. 

"Ha! See? You're not better than me, look I just beat you" You stand up and point to the tv. Mina only puts her controller to the side and she smiles at you calmly, nodding. It doesn't really matter to you in the moment that you've played maybe a total of sixteen matches, four of which you actually won. You silently appreciate her for not bringing up that part either. "Okay, what were you saying?" You turn off the console and plop back down on the couch.

"Maybe" She looks like she's actually thinking for a moment, then in the same instance she kind of stops and she gets this look on her face. An almost devilish smirk replaces her pondering pout and you're almost immediately intrigued about what's to come "I should give you a reward for winning"

She only has to scoot closer to you and lean her head in a few inches to catch your lips on hers. You kiss her back, hands on her waist so you can pull her to sit on your lap. "What kind of reward?" You decide to humor her cause why not and she can't hide her giggles when she presses on your shoulder to get you to lay back.

"Just lay down" Mina's voice is so wonderfully soft, almost healing to your ears when she says the three words. You first prop one of the throw pillows up against the armrest and you rest your head against it. Still in your lap, Mina leans down to put her lips back on yours and you can't get enough of them. So smooth and tender as you make out in your cozy living room.

When Mina pulls away, she shuffles backwards a bit and with the space she has, she lays flat on her belly between your legs. It's a big couch so she's able to fit there nice and comfy, arms resting on your thighs as she tugs on the waistband of your shorts and you lift your hips to help her out.

 "You let me win, didn't you?" You figure

"Well, how else was I supposed to get your cock in my mouth?" She teases, pulling the garments off your legs. Your cock springs free from its confinements, semi-hard from the bit of kissing you did earlier. 

"You could've just a-asked—" Your tone of voice changes mid-way when Mina wraps her lips around your head, her moist inner cheeks wonderfully stimulating each nerve. 

She releases you with a subtle pop then she curls her fingers around your shaft, stroking up and down. "Where's the fun in that" The way she giggles feels a little more sinister and it genuinely sends a chill down your spine as you grow harder and harder in her hands. 

Mina leans over, sticking her tongue out to flick it against your tip "God" You bite your lip, forgetting to breathe while you make eye contact. It's like there's a greater force gluing your eyes to her making it impossible for you to look away. When she's got your cock at it's hardest—which doesn't take very long at all—she opens her mouth and takes you inside.

The descent is slow and easy for her for the first few inches. She starts to struggle the further she gets down and you're unable to focus on anything but the warmth of her mouth, the saliva coating your entire shaft and the tight squeeze her mouth gives your cock whenever she gags or swallows. It has your jaw clenching already. 

You grasp your t-shirt in your hands then you pull it over your head, stretching the cheap fabric a bit because you were rushing. "Mina" You sigh, as she gets her lips to touch your base. Tears welled up in her pretty eyes. They threaten to fall as she holds herself there and the absolute clutch of her throat is nearly perfect. 

First she has to remind herself to breathe through her nose before she comes up. Mina stops when she reaches the head then she plunges again, sliding your cock down the slot of her throat easier this time around. She manages to get herself in a rhythm, cheeks hollowed as she sucks you off, tongue dragging up and down the underside of your cock. "You're so good at that" You praise, lips parted as you take in the wonderful view.

Mina's so beautiful, you could spend hours just admiring her face, scanning each beauty mark and every subtle blemish on her porcelain skin. "So pretty" You whisper and she hums softly to let you know that she acknowledges your compliment. There's more you want to say but the words get caught up and stuck in your throat because she's got you speechless right now. As her eyes pierce through yours, you hope that she can understand at least a fragment of the love you feel for her in this moment. "I love you" You groan the confession like it's the first time you're saying it.

She comes back up, licking her lips as she wraps her hand around your base. She strokes you slowly and softly, that same shy giggle escaping her lips and you get high on it. "I love you more" Her tongue darts out to lick up the pre cum that's beginning to dribble down your shaft. Then she rubs the pad of her thumb in circles on your frenulum.

A moan escapes your lips and your body begins to squirm as she attacks the sensitive spot there. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from whimpering. She fists your cock again, then chases it with her mouth up and down with the twist of her wrists. 

You reach your hand out, running your fingers through her newly dyed ash hair and you brush it to the side when you notice that it was getting in the way. Her hand and her mouth moves together fast and you're not sure how much longer you'll be able to take it for. The way she can have your body almost trembling under her magical touch will always amaze you, no matter how many times she does this.

"M-Mina I'm close—fuck" You warn but she won't slow or stop. In fact, she's squeezing and sucking harder like she needs your load in her mouth as soon as possible. You know she'll swallow it all.

You end up biting into your fist, eyes squinting as your brows knit together right up until you cum. "Shit, I'm gonna.." Your cock pulses out the first few shots which hit the roof of Mina's mouth. She isn't at all phased by it though, in fact, she keeps her movements steady as she milks you for everything you've got, moaning eagerly at the taste. You finish it all off with a sigh and then she finally stops, taking you out of her mouth carefully so nothing spills out. 

Mina opens her mouth, proudly showing you the flood of semen thats pooled up inside where it belongs. Then she closes her lips together and she stops for a moment before she gulps it down. "You're amazing" You pant, watching weakly as she climbs up your body so you're face to face. She smiles before connecting your lips and your hands go to the hem of her top almost immediately and you slip them under just to feel her soft, bare skin on your hands.

She breaks the kiss, then she pulls her top off and her petite breasts are finally free "These too" You pull at the clingy fabric of her leggings, hearing the light noise it makes when it snaps back. 

"You ready for me already babe?" 

"You know I am" a smile grows on her face as she stands up from the couch to shimmy herself out of them, her hips swaying side to side with a naughty purpose. Finally, she steps out of them and kicks them to the side "Wait, leave them on" she stops just as she's about to take her panties off. She's wearing this black lacy underwear that clings to her ass so beautifully, it'd be a crime to remove them when they look so good on her.

Mina only shakes her head, a chuckle escaping her lips as she straddles you again "You're such a weirdo" She mutters, not giving you the chance to respond because she's making out with you again. This kiss lasts a little bit longer because you want to take your time with her perfect lips, sucking and licking on them as it gets sloppier. She begins moaning into your mouth because of the pressure your hard cock provides while it's pushed up against her cunt. "Fuck" She curses, lightly biting your lip as she grinds her hips forwards.

She reaches down, kissing you harder this time as she slides her dampened panties to the side because she doesn't want to spend another second empty. Mina has to hover a bit as she grabs your cock to aim the head with her slick entrance but she's so soaked that it ends up slipping past. You try not to, but you end up snickering and she glares at you before trying again. This time she gets it in, you know that much from the first feel of her tight cunt gripping the head. 

You both exhale deeply as Mina sinks herself down slowly, taking this opportunity to enjoy the stretch of your thick cock. When she's got you stuffed as deep as the position would allow, Mina picks up her hips and begins to rock forwards in slow motions. "So deep in me, it feels so good ah~"

The way Mina moves her body so smooth and fluid has you falling in love with her all over again. You let a harsh slap land on her round ass, hearing the sound of the sharp impact echo loudly in your living room. She yelps loudly, leaning over to hold herself up on your shoulders so she can move faster. Her warm walls hug you tightly, occasionally clenching when she closes the gap between you two. Your cock fits so perfectly inside of her, it's like you were made for each other.

"Mina" You moan once she begins to move her hips in a circular motion. It feels so insane that now you're gripping her ass tightly, probably leaving red hand marks on her pale skin. 

"Like that?" Mina smirks, looking deep into your hooded eyes moaning when your cock brushes past her g-spot. She puts her hands over yours, then guides them both up to her perky tits. You feel her stiff nipples poking your palms as you take the initiative to squeeze and knead the soft flesh thoroughly. "God your cock—it's so" She moans again, throwing her head back so her hair flys out of her face.

This is the perfect visual. Mina's god-like body on top of yours, every dangerous and deadly curve of hers highlighted with the sheet of sweat on her skin. Her eyes closed and her mouth wide open as she moans about how good your dick is, how she can ride it all day long and how it's tearing her apart among another mess of words you can't really make out. You listen good and well to everything she's saying because she absolutely means it, you can tell that much from the utter lust in her tone.

Mina lets herself loose on you like she's been thinking about it all day, thinking about how you'll fill and fuck her with your large cock. You're only able to watch as the subtle indicators begin to show themselves. Like when her moans go up an octave or when her movements become less calculated and more messy and feral. You also notice the way she leans down, capturing your lips once more and you can tell it's a silent plea for you to do something.

So that's exactly what you do. You hold her in place by her hips and you begin to piston your cock into her, your thighs meeting hers to make this thick meaty slapping noise. She nearly screams, unable to focus on kissing you when you're fucking her like this. "Yes! Fuck- Harder!" So much raw force, it's almost punishing. However, your purpose wasn't to "punish" her, it was more so to reward her for everything she did beforehand. 

She understands that.

When Mina buries her head into your neck, you're a hundred percent sure that you've got her right there. She breathes heavily into your skin, moaning and choking on her words with each deep thrust you give her. She hums loud and long "I'm cumming!" and then you begin to feel how tightly her cunt clenches and pulses around your cock as her wetness spills down your shaft. "Fuck- Yes baby!" She begins to shake, her body jerking and bucking in your grip.

With a long sigh, she stops calms down a bit, the aftershocks still causing her body to react occasionally. You give her maybe a second to recover before you slip your cock out of her and flip her so she's on her back. She's so out of it, she doesn't even realize that you've switched positions until you slide your cock back inside of her where it belongs. Mina gasps, feeling your cock reach different parts of her at this angle.

"I can't fucking-" What she's trying to say is that she can't believe that you're fucking her so good. Hard and deep. That's exactly how she likes it as you recall, and you've hardly even given her a moment to recover from the orgasm you just fucked her through. "Cum in me" she looks deep into your eyes when she says it and she's so serious about it.

You lean down, your temple to hers as you nearly fuck her through the couch. You're a little rough on her, you know that because you can hear the springs in the furniture starting to give. It's not really built for this kind of treatment but it's durable and it's been through worse than this.

The more your cock slides in and out of her, dragging all the way back to the tip only to bury itself into her again, the more animalistic you feel. It's the tight grip, her velvety walls and her hoarse voice moaning your name that's got you like this. You want nothing more than to empty your balls inside of Mina, fill her up and keep it lodged so deep that none of it spills out.

You barely even notice when you push her into another orgasm because you're too focused on that distinct feeling growing and burning like a hot ball of fire in the pit of your stomach. "Oh... I'm gonna cum" You grit through your teeth, voice rough just before you nearly growl as you cum again, shooting countless ropes of warm white into her stretched cunt. She gasps, legs shaking as you continue to pound deep and slow into her, making sure you get everything out.

"Yeah, give me everything baby" She coos, fingers interlocking at the back of your neck. 

With a sigh your body finally relaxes and you put all of your weight on her body. When you're finally ready to talk after the long moment of silence you spend in your post-orgasm daze you lift your head and look into Mina's eyes. You know she's expecting your usual "I love you" after sex but instead you decide to mess with her a bit "So... pizza?"

She blinks "What?"

"Earlier you mentioned that we could order something and watch TV, right? I was just suggesting that we get pizza" She gives you an expecting look, like she's not going to give you a straight answer until you tell her what she really wants to hear "and I love you" You add on, leaning down to connect your lips with a grin on your face.

She can't help it when she smiles "Okay pizza then" she agrees.

-

You begin to think that maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to order pizza right before getting in the shower because you're both just stepping out when you hear the doorbell ring. Mina wraps her towel around her body "Well you're gonna have to get it cause I'm naked" She nods to herself as if there wasn't a towel wrapped around your waist also.

"So am I?" You try to argue as she walks into your bedroom. Her calm silence says enough and you figure you should just get the food cause you definitely won't win that fight. When you open the door, the delivery guy looks at you a little weird but you still tip him generously and mutter a small "thank you" at the end of the exchange.

When you get back in your shared apartment, you place the pizza on the coffee table and you turn off the lights before you join her in the bedroom to get into something comfy. 

"I can't believe you're making me watch this" Mina snuggles herself against you, squinting a bit to read the description of the show on the tv screen. You're cuddling and eating on the couch, yes the same couch you just fucked on, it's multi-purpose. You snicker at your own joke before realizing what she's just said.

"So you're genuinely telling me, you didn't enjoy the first season?" You ask, taking a bite of your pizza. It's only got pepperoni on it but it's a classic nonetheless.

Mina shakes her head "No I hated it actually" She corrects you, turning her head with her mouth open. You move your hand away, catching that she's trying to eat your food. She only whines, giving you those adorable eyes.

"There's like seven more slices right there, why do you want to eat mine" You point to it, nodding your head in the direction of the small table before you pick up the remote to play the show. 

It's Squid Game 2 that you're watching as you allow Mina to take a rather large bite of your pizza anyways, despite giving her a hard time about it. "I didn't wanna move" She says as she chews.

"Sure" You scoff, acting like you didn't absolutely love feeding her. Just babying Mina in general is one of your favorite things to do with her. She knows that from the way you swipe off a bit of tomato sauce from the corner of her lip but she fails to bring it up because she too enjoys it.

See there's nothing better than a lazy day in your book. It may have been really unproductive, but sometimes a little bit of a recharge with the person you love the most is the little boost you need to make the most of the following week.

Lazy days are good days