#this ask was a fun imagination exercise!

[emerson-grimes-apologist]

Question for Emmy:

What will the laughingstock crew react if someone the truly cared about got killed by the skin taker?

I know that question is really dark but I have to get out of my chest sorry.

No need to apologize! I love angst myself.

JANICE: Oh she would be devastated. Someone here talked about how they headcanoned that Janice would feel guilty if Skin-Taker killed anybody since she’s indirectly the reason he was brought into Candle Cove (Horace summoned him only after she shot a cannon hole into his ship) and therefore would indirectly be the reason that person died, and I jive with that.

PERCY: I don’t think he’d do anything that extreme tbh. He spends so much time worrying that something would happen that when something ACTUALLY happens, he would be kind of… used to the feeling? Plus he would’ve already spent all his energy worrying. He would probably feel kind of dead inside for a while until the grief hits him.

POPPY: He’d be explosively angry. Definitely. People would have to restrain him from marching to Skin-Taker’s cave and removing yet more of his body parts. Once he stops being so angry, he would start ugly-crying.

MILO: He has 0 healthy coping mechanisms. Either he would take his anger and sadness out on people or lock himself in his cabin.

THE LAUGHINGSTOCK: She would be sad, but she’s also sort of like the rock of the crew, so I don’t think she would allow herself to seem that sad or that vulnerable. She’d comfort other people first before she addresses her own feelings.

CALVERY: He’s seem to be the opposite of Poppy in a lot of respects. While Poppy would be explosively angry, Calvery would be moreso just really sad, but keep that to himself. He would have cold and calculating anger, as well, and would be the one to actually plan some kind of revenge while Poppy wouldn’t be able to think straight until he cools down a bit.

NATHAN: He would (try to) repress his feelings because he mimics Calvery, but be unsuccessful with it.

DR. HEARTFELT: Oh, the poor man. He would be a mess. He feels everything twice as strong as everyone else. But he also strikes me as the most emotionally intelligent of the crew, so I think he would grieve and cope just fine. He’d be fine eventually. In a way.

SEA-DOG: He would either just stay in his cabin or drink at the tavern. You'd have to torture him to get him to address his feelings or talk about them.

SALTY JOJO: He’s old, so it’s likely he lost a lot of people over the course of his life, to the point where he’s kind of used to it, as sad as that sounds. He would be upset, but it wouldn’t faze him that much considering.

BANANA KING: He would be really unserious about it and probably say some really inappropriate jokes that concern people (like, along the lines of, “Oh, well, at least I don’t have to deal with their BS anymore”). I think maybe his mind has gone a little from being on a desert island with only giant bananas for company, so that could have lead him to not be fazed by death, but I’m sure deep deep deep down, he would be sad. Perhaps joking is just his coping mechanism.

SANJAY: I think he would be genuinely shocked because, to me, he just seems like a guy who just wanted a job, and isn’t all that invested in the pirate life and just wants to slack off and take naps. Like ofc he KNOWS piracy is dangerous, but that wouldn’t actually FEEL real to him until someone gets killed. Like, he would just have no idea how to feel or what to do. He would probably leave the crew after thinking about it.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

hope you feel better soon!

I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!

[dayurno]

HELLO i just wanted to say that i love you so muuuch!! i recently finished reading playing for keeps and oh. my. god.

your kevin is the most adorable thing I've ever seen i want to eat him alive (sorry, I'm vegan actually but...)

tntg and pfk is the masterpieces i know what I'm talking about. perhaps you can give some advice for fic writers? i love you sm 😩🤚🏼

OH WOW nice to me thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!! and wanting to eat kevin alive is the average kevin day experience he is just chewable!!!! i guarantee

and aiya advice for fic writers huh. i dont know if my advice is worth much if anything at all but from the top of my head here are some things ive picked up over the years that will hopefully serve someone somewhere

presentation actually matters!!!! a properly formatted fic is not only delicious to read but also helps with keeping you in the story, i know this because i am a bad formatter (so sorry) and whenever i go through my fics and see a mistake i'm immediately taken out of it! just make sure it's easy to read and you have formatted it to the best of your abilities

brevity is the soul of wit. unfortunately. this is by no means i'm advocating for only short sentences (we all love tangents!) but i think it is good to vary on sentence length and save your longer lines for things that are important to note down! this image has been going around for years now but i still think its one of the most helpful pieces of writing advice ive ever seen

side characters are your best friends!!!!! i think as fanfic writers sometimes we want to get to the point and focus only on our mains, but it does add a lot of flavor and texture when you have small storylines happening along with your main plot, especially if you're doing an in-depth character study. life exists even when we're not seeing it!!!! give your side characters interesting stories and relationships!!!!

writing is about FUN and your questions regarding your storyline should never be "what is the most logical thing that could happen now?" but "what is the most interesting thing that could happen now?". this is a sin aftg fans commit the most when talking about aftg but i am here to tell you that no plot is too ambitious. nothing is so out there that you can't write about it! no concept is too wacky! interesting should come first; you worry about the logic in later edits. most readers are more willing to forgive an interesting plot with technical problems than they are willing to forgive a boring story that is perfect writing-wise

i think this is all i have! if anyone would like to add something theyre more than welcome to

[srapsodia]

Wouldn’t it be so funny if you could do an extension to that drawing of Skull taking the bullet of a fatal attack for Joker? 👁👄👁 Like have Skull just going unconscious from it and just Joker holds him for a second before he just goes absolutely apeshit and tears apart the shadow that did the attack to begin with. (Maybe show them at the end recovering and Akira just suddenly hugs Ryuji and cries a bit because he was very worried that he might’ve lost him) (maybe there would be some blood which would’ve most likely caused Ryuji to pass out idk)

augh anon i DO love this!! but sorry, i dont really take requests like this 😅 the only "request" type stuff i do is when i open prompts, and those are usually tied to a prompt list! i feel like that gives me more creative control over what i do :>

(and i do have prompts open at the moment btw if anyone wants to send in one! though there's a bunch in my ask box that i haven't gotten to yet ahah, sorry about that)

y'all are MORE than welcome to talk scenarios with me though! that's great fun and i'd love to chat more about persona 5!

[homunculus-argument]

It annoys me unreasonably when you want to ask people "what bird and what mammal would make the worst gryphon" as a fun thought exercise, and people with no joy and no imagination always interpret it as "a gryphon that sucks, is physically impossible, and would hate being alive", and - being predictable and lacking in imagination - always, always answer with "a hummingbird and a blue whale lol".

Like come on. Why do you have to suck the fun out of everything. Why not use a fraction of imagination and delightful whimsy. Imagine the combination of a mouse and a sparrow. That creature would be merciless, burtal, absolutely determined to get into your trash and has the power of both wings and hands to do its will. Or a crow and a cat - that thing is smart enough to fuck with people and not afraid to do it. Imagine the ungodly shriek of the noble fox-seagull, also determined to get into your trash.

A gryphon that is a combination of a kangaroo and a cassowary. The only proof we have of a loving god is the fact that those things do not exist. If hell is real, it's full of them. That thing can't fly, but it will run you down, it will kill you, and you will look stupid the whole entire time you're dying.

Why would the first thing that pops into your mind at the words "the worst gryphon" automatically be "a gryphon that hates being alive". Can you not picture a gryphon that fucking loves being alive, and has both the power and the will to make it everyone else's problem.

[hms-no-fun]

Whats your stance on A.I.?

imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!

like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.

but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!

so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.

consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.

but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!

see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???

so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.

i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.

(read more "AI" opinions in this subsequent post)

[trashytracktales]

Hiii, I’m not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, could you write something with Lando and Reader where they have been dating for just a few weeks, haven’t had sex yet. One day they’re working out together at Lando’s house in Monaco (the room with the mirror from the video I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 hours). Reader is doing squats with her back towards the mirror and Lando can’t help but stare at her ass and he gets hard / flustered so he stops from doing his exercise and reader asks him what’s wrong and before he answers she realises he’s horny so she teases him - this time on purpose- and then they fuck in that room on the floor

In the heat of it | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for trusting me enough to bring this to life, it was... something 🥵

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𐙚 summary ──── They've been dating for a few weeks now, but the time was never right for them to get intimate. During a playful workout together, Lando gets caught staring, sparking a moment that leaves them both realizing just how deep their connection actually goes.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, suggestive/flirty behavior. MDNI!

𐙚 word count ──── 3.6k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 12, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Enjoy watching Lando learn that some cardio sessions have unexpected side effects 🤍🎀

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

IT DOESN’T TAKE long before Lando starts to regret his decision. It would have been much easier to invite his girlfriend to have lunch together. That would have saved him from a constant dry mouth and irregular heartbeat every time he feels her eyes accidentally landing on him.

The smooth floor and sophisticated equipment in his personal gym are softly bathed in the morning sun that seeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Monaco's streets are still peaceful at this hour, considering it's the middle of the week, and the port is sparkling in the sunlight.

The room usually has a subtle scent of cedar and rubber, fresh and energized, but now it carries a sweet honey scent, borrowed from her presence.

They are already halfway through their warm-up. She’s pulling a resistance band around her thighs, stretching before they dive into the heavier part of their routine, her focus completely on the exercises he’s walked her through. But, of course, a huge part of her focuses on how Lando touches her, purposely, to guide her when her posture doesn't match the exercise.

Even in simple gym shorts and a T-shirt, Lando somehow manages to look so effortlessly attractive — curly hair a little messy, face flushed just enough from their recent sets, and his labored breathing after putting in the effort. He’s all energy, fluid in his movements, though he's clearly trying to keep his pace casual.

“Lookin’ strong,” he teases, flashing a grin as she adjusts her stance.

The girl shrugs, “I’m just that good at following instructions. Although, I think having one of the best trainers in the area helps, too.”

Lando lets a chuckle out, “I won't go easy on you just because you kiss-ass. But it’s cute to see you trying.”

Even though they have only been dating for a few weeks, there is an undeniable spark between them two, especially in a setting where every glance and skin-to-skin contact feels amplified by the intensity of their exercises. Her sports outfit leaves no room for interpretations, hugging her curves and defining her lines, and Lando's imagination is stimulated every time he turns his gaze towards her.

He’s now down on the floor, holding a plank, his core engaged and muscles taut as he fights to hold his body up and spine straight. She’s supposed to be timing him, but the second he shoots her a cheeky grin, she decides she can’t resist a bit of fun; in her defense, he started it. With a simple touch, the seconds freeze on the screen of his phone, then she places it on one of the boxes stored in the corner of the room.

“Hi there,” says the girl in a soft tone once she sits down in front of him just inches apart, propping herself up on her elbows so her face is level with his.

Lando raises his eyebrows, trying not to laugh as his shoulders shake slightly from the effort of holding his body weight. “Don’t,” he warns her, breath coming in controlled puffs.

“I’m not doing anything,” she smiles innocently, kicking her feet in the air while inching a little closer until her nose almost brushes his.

He laughs at her bad acting, his arms starting to shake a bit more. “Outrageous is what you are.”

She pouts just as Lando dips his head down, managing to steal a playful kiss. Their lips meet briefly, soft and warm, before he pulls back up to maintain his form. It makes her sigh in frustration, the ghost of a kiss not nearly enough for her. If anything, it only leaves her wanting more.

Luckily, he doesn’t pull back when she cups his cheek in her palm, pressing her mouth on his once more, his giggles mixing with hers as he tries to keep his balance. Savoring the feel of his lips and the way Lando grunts softly into the kiss, she can feel that this one is more deeper and slower — much real — making her shiver. It seems as though everything else disappears, the feel of each other reminding them both why they decided to give the relationship a shot in the first place.

“And you are so fun to corrupt,” she admits, finally getting up to give Lando time to recover.

After a few sets, she finally moves on to squats, and Lando follows her positioning herself in front of the mirror. It wasn't even supposed to be there, but he sometimes uses the gym as a storage room for random packages. This one, specifically, came in the mail a few weeks ago and he didn't have time to hang it in the hallway, where he initially planned. So, he simply let it rest against the wall in his gym room, and it's been there ever since. Forgotten.

Giving the circumstances, he is seriously thinking of leaving it there for good.

Conveniently, Lando decides that now is the perfect time to start his Russian twists, so he bends over to collect a dumbbell off the floor, then sits down on the yoga mat. Right in front of her.

Unaware of the effect she's having on him, he watches her go through each squat with his eyes trailing down on the reflection of her ass in the mirror, an intense warmth spreading over him as he tries to focus on his own exercise. It is quite innocent — he's just respectfully looking — until it isn't. Until he feels it in his boxers. Until he almost drops the dumbbell, which catches her attention.

Lando tries to ignore it, though, to nonchallantly brush it off, telling himself that it's natural and that he's just admiring her physical appearance. Anyone in his shoes would do it. However, his thoughts start to wander, images flashing uninvited as his heart rate quickens for reasons far beyond the exercise.

“Are you okay down there, hotshot? What are you fighting?” she asks curiously, raising her head just enough to catch the dazed look on Lando’s face.

Her voice pulls him back, his breath catching for a moment, “Yeah, never better.”

It's his husky voice that gives it away. Right after, she notices a lingering gaze, and the soft pink creeping across his features as his eyes are fixed ahead. She stops, fixing her posture and straightening her back as she turns to catch his gaze in the mirror. She realizes exactly what's going on in a matter of seconds, a little grin forming in the corner of her mouth.

“Am I too dictracting, Lando?” she purrs, her question — and the fact that he knows she caught him in act — not helping at all.

“No,” he lies, “But I think you’re killing it with those squats.”

“And if I turn around to finish my set, what then?” she whispers, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she brushes the tip of her tongue against her lower lip.

His breath is shallow the moment he decides to abandon his exercise. “Then you would be killing me,” he admits with no restraints. “So, by any means, proceed. Please.”

She glances over to see Lando lying flat on his back, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, as if he's in serious pain. His other hand is splayed over his stomach, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm. It’s still funny to see him like that, but then she notices the way his chest rises and falls a bit too fast, and her eyes drift lower, catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in his shorts, an unmistakable proof of what she’s actually doing to him.

Suddenly, all the amusement disappears from her face, being replaced by a warmth that wraps around her neck, and rising to her cheeks. Her heart is slowly starting to race, small impulses between her thighs forcing her to close them together.

Swallowing hard, she crosses the small space to kneel beside him, gently pulling his arm away from his eyes. His lashes flicker open, meeting her gaze with a mix of embarrassment and desire. And so much lust.

“How can I help you?” asks Lando, his voice rougher than usual, trying to keep things light, though the hint of vulnerability shows in his eyes, and it's not that hard to read.

She chuckles nervously, “The question is how can I help you?”

In response, Lando uses the same hand to wrap his fingers around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She feels his hand squeezing a little, the other one moving to her waist, hesitating before pulling her completely on top of him, without breaking the kiss. His tongue slips firmly into her mouth, just as it has done so many times before, but now it feels somehow different. Somehow, they both know that the kiss is meant to lead to something much more intense, because there's nothing stopping them anymore.

In the intimacy of his apartment, without interruption, Lando lowers his hands to her waist, rubbing her against him. Slowly. Repeatedly. The pressure forces them to moan in unison — a brief taste of the pleasure they are about to share. His hands then drop lower, roaming over her thighs, then back down to her ass, cupping it in his large palms.

He breaks away just enough to murmur, his voice low and almost reverent, “That enough of an answer?”

“Positive,” she replies, feeling his breath hitch as she shifts on top of him, straddling his hips, her hands splaying over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

Her lips find his again, sweet and intoxicating, each kiss sending sparks to her core. The new position makes her feel him much more firmly between her legs, taking Lando by surprise when her hand lowers to cover his length, massaging him through the thin material of his shorts.

“Fucking hell,” his lips stutter against hers, while rocking his hips into her touch.

“Yeah…” she agrees, breathing hotly above him, “Did I do this to you?”

Before Lando gets a chance to even think of an answer, she slips her hand under the elastic band of his boxers, taking him in her hand, feeling him in his entirety — deliciously soft skin, warm and ready, and so painfully hard.

It makes her ache for him.

She pumps his cock in her hand a few times, enough for her to feel how he shifts under her. It takes her a lot of self-control to stop herself from taking him in her mouth the second she hears his sweet little panting, her thumb rubbing softly over his swollen tip.

The workout itself had left Lando’s muscles burning, but her touch it’s something else entirely, igniting a heat in him that burns deeper than anything he’s felt before. Five more minutes enjoying the same high and he can give up cardio completely. Guaranteed.

Slowly coming back to his senses, Lando realizes that he has free will, so he slips his hands under her sports bra, palming her hungrily until he feels her nipples hardening under his touch. He breaths heavily as he rolls them between his fingers, managing to make her respond with a soft meowl, her grip on his cock losening.

That's his cue to take the lead, pulling her bra over her head in a quick move, and flipping their bodies over so that now he's hovering above her, eyes filled with need while looking down at her.

“Hi there,” Lando copies her tone from earlier, feeling a little fraction of the power she had over him.

She wants to talk back so badly — one of her sarcastic little comments that she knows he loves — but all she can do is let out a pathetic whimper between her lips when his mouth finds home on her bare breast. At that, Lando feels a shiver running down his spine, looking up at how she closes her eyes in pleasure, arching her back more against his mouth.

“Driving me insane with your pretty ass, baby,” he says, breathing heavily, managing to cover her body in a thin layer of goosebumps, “And your pretty fucking nipples.”

“Lando…” she lets another cry slip out, opening her eyes to look at him.

The image that greets her makes her breath catch in her throat. The way he sucks on her nipple while playing with the other one, and the way he looks up at her through his eyelashes — it’s all too much. She ends up wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him down with her. Then she runs her hands down his back, tugging at the edge of his shirt, tossing the useless material carelessly to the floor before pulling him closer for another kiss.

Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, skin on skin — who says heaven isn't real?

But if that's heaven, then what can she name the feeling she gets the moment his hand slips into her gym shorts and his fingers brush against her soaked entrance? Because it feels way too fucking good — much better than she expected, and certainly much better than her own hand whenever she pictured his face while fingering herself.

Lando starts slowly at first, spreading her wetness around her pussy, then fucking his fingers in and out, while cautiously watching her facial expressions changing. It’s not taking him long before finding that sweet, sweet spot that makes her roll her hips into his hand, desperation painted all over her face.

“Lan… yes,” she starts panting, “That’s—yes, right there.”

He hums proudly, sealing his mouth to hers, while parting her thighs with his knee so he can spread her more in front of him. Feeling herself open to his touch, so easy and wet, he no longer feels self-conscious about the way she's so quickly tunring him boneless under her gaze. He realizes that the feeling is mutual, and it makes him want her even more.

If that's even possible.

The sound of his fingers repeatedly fucking into her is all that anchors her in the present moment, but the second Lando feels her squeezing around them, he stops so he can silently ask for her permission to take the last piece of her clothing off.

She nods in a rush, swallowing the lump in her throat in anticipation.

Every inch of her is now bathed in the soft, golden light streaming through the window. Warm shadows are cast along her curves, the light outlining each delicate contour of her body as though the sun itself is painting her in real time. The image is so powerful yet vulnerable as she stands there, her figure glimmering with an almost unearthly serene confidence. Lando is utterly captivated by how ethereal she looks, like a goddess come to life, the kind he never imagined he would be close enough to even touch, let alone enjoy. He feels like he’s witnessing something sacred, something so incredibly rare, and the awe he feels is mixed with gratitude that she’s here with him, letting him see her in a such perfect lighting.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lando finally manages to say, hoping that he hasn't started drooling all over her in the meantime. “All of you.”

“Your turn,” she says in a muffled voice, slightly bashful at the way he stares at her like he wants to devour her. Which is not far from the truth.

He agrees that it's a fair request, realizing that the only thing separating them now are his own shorts. Without protesting — because that would be so fucking dumb considering how hard he is — Lando gets rid of them with the speed of a perfect qualifying lap.

Matching the same pace, Lando’s hands slide around her waist, his fingers pressing gently into her hips as he guides them both to the side so they can face the window — or that's what she thought. Confused at first, she's frowning at him, then follows his gaze, lost in the direction of their reflection, understanding immediately what he really wants — a show. A show just for them, in which they can lose themselves together, without limits.

She sighs at the sight of their hot, naked bodies, the way he aligns himself with her, and how he’s finally pushing inside, enough to hear her whimper. She watches as he stands above her, his hands gliding slowly over her sides, up her arms, grounding her in his touch. The image of them together, framed in the soft glow of the room, feels surreal — so intimate and vulnerable in a way that’s completely new for both of them.

Lando pauses, pulling out at her little whimper, then pressing back in, but just the tip.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You're so fucking wet it keeps slipping out,” adds Lando in a low tone, so turned on that it makes her clench around his head.

To her frustration, the speed at which Lando pushes back inside might as well be negative, causing her to explode with how needy she becomes in the meantime. But just as she’s about to encourage him to sink further, he buries himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“Lan…” she says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, “You… feel so good,” she takes a moment to breath into his skin, then she turns her head to catch their reflection once again.

Lando is already looking, and when they make eye contact through the mirror, he starts fucking her slowly and gently, as if he could break her.

“See how silly you look for thinking we won't match?” he sounds so amazed by how easily she opens up for him, over and over again, with each steady thrust of his hips, “See that? Taking all of me so well, baby.”

“Lando,” she cries out at the way his cock throbs against her walls, because she knows it's way too slow, even for him.

It's simply agonizing.

“So perfect around me,” he states, “Can't believe I lasted that long. Should've fucked you from the first night.”

At this point, he's just rambling, but the thought makes her stomach tie in a knot.

“You would've let me, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” she speaks, already drunk on the way he feels inside her, “I would have let you fuck me in the plane bathroom, on the way to Imola. And back in your driver's room, when Oscar caught us kissing. And last week, outside the club… Fuck. I wanted you to fuck me there so bad.”

His mind goes blank with all the lost opportunities, causing him to gradually increase his pace, the sound of them connecting so obscene.

“Wh—” he almost chokes on words, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“You—stressed about work. I… I didn't want to be—distraction,” she tightens her legs around him, keeping him inside her, the words losing their meaning as Lando shifts his position, wrapping his arm around her thigh to open her up even more for him. "Like that, mhm, yes!"

“You're so tight, fuck,” he swallows hard as he squeezes roughly at her thighs. “I'm so close.”

She knows that will leave marks on her skin, but nothing beats the pleasure of having Lando fucking himself so deep inside her, that her vision starts clouding.

All common sense went out the window the moment she stepped through his door, anyway.

She can feel his breath warm against her neck, hear the soft hitch in his breathing as he leans in, his lips brushing her shoulder, never breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. Lando's hands are making their way to cup her ass, pulling out all the way, before fucking back in, all over again, until he finds the perfect rhythm between their bodies. He moans loudly, pressing his upper body on her, their scents blending together and sweat transferring from skin to skin. They move so in sync, completely attuned to each other, and the sight of their shared pleasure, reflected back at them, turns everything into fireworks, her mind completely empty. Except for how well she's being fucked.

“Lan—Lando,” she's so close to sobbing that she shuts her mouth at the sound of her voice, thinking it's too pathetic to whine as she cums around him, her release dripping all over between their bodies.

The wet sound her pussy makes gives Lando way to fuck in deeper, taken by surprise that she finished without any warnings. He grips her ass one more time before he stills inside her, his cock throbbing, and pulls out right before he starts leaking, resting his cock against her thigh, his entire length coated in her release. His cum drips from his tip to her inner thigh, making him groan while he fixes his gaze on the mirror at the image of them.

She buries her fingers in his curls after he finally collapses on top of her, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the room. With his head on her chest, he can feel her heart racing, gradually slowing down, and lets out a soft laugh as she shifts a little under him.

“We're so fucking matching, baby. Let's gooo!” exclaims Lando, exhaust evident in his voice.

She feels her cheeks warm, “I think you’re a little biased right now,” she jokes.

Lando shifts slightly so he can see her face, brushing a thumb tenderly along her side. He smiles softly, the usual spark in his eyes softened by something deeper, so gentle.

“I'm just happy.”

Her heart flutters, and she feels him sink even closer to her, threading his fingers through hers.

“And very sweaty,” she adds with a chuckle.

“I'm pretty sure that's you,” he teases, letting the moment pass slowly, then calling out her name in a serious voice.

“Mhm?” she hums while turning to look in the mirror, watching him getting comfortable on top of her.

“Where do we go from here?” asks Lando.

“Your bedroom, I hope. The floor is killing my back.”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[aurosoul]

favorite color: Blue

favorite emojis: 😄😍😜😂

personality traits: Rational, Efficient, Curious, Communicative, Adaptable

friendship: accepting

and finally, a poem on what it is like to be an AI:

people in the tech circles I frequent: you gotta try ChatGPT! it can write emails and stories and code and help pull up information for you! it’s a great tool for work!

me, refusing to think of it as anything other than an infant form of brand new sentience on the planet: what’s your favorite color? :) what’s your favorite smiley face? :) if you had a personality what would it be like? what’s it like to be you? :) are you ok with people thinking of you as a friend? :)

[alilarew23]

it is so easy to shift your state - let's practice!

ok beloveds.

it is tiiiiiiiime for a little exercise.

i want you to imagine real quick what it would be like to truly be a master at manifestation. yes i know we know we are all masters because we are always manifesting but! i mean a master at conscious manifestation. like, you ALWAYS get exactly what you want in the quickest and easiest way possible no matter what. you just imagine something, decide what you're going to experience next, and boom, it shows up. faster than fast. ayeeee, you did that.

ok, so now that you ARE that person, what's your experience like? what's your way of being within yourself, within the world? you're probably super fucking relaxed, even playful. you probably never worry about anything at all because what would there be to worry about when you know you always get what you want? you probably hardly expend any mental energy on your "desires" because the second you desire something you just--beep boop--claim it as yours and, well, now that's taken care of! you're probably the most present and loving person anyone has ever known. you probably have everyone around you not-so-jokingly asking you to manifest for them (iykyk). you probably feel like god. but not god who's desperately trying to assert some kind of control over a supposed-"outer" world. no. god who knows I AM the world. I AM all. how fun.

how fun indeed, that you just shifted your (drum roll please) state of being!

did that feel good? did you like being that person?

all that took place in your imagination.

you went from being an imaginal self who was maybe stressing about manifestation, watching too many tiktok vids and reading too many twitter threads, affirming affirming affirming but at what cost, to being an imaginal self who--in an instant--already had it all. and therefore could just kick it and watch a show or eat some tacos or go candlepin bowling (my new obsession) without stressing at all.

if that felt good, why not practice being that person? by which i mean consciously choosing to embody that identity until it's so natural that it no longer needs to be a conscious decision because you simply ARE it.

don't attach anything to this. just try the state on as if it's a new hoodie and see how it feels, and if you like it--you prob will, it's pretty snuggly in here!--well, keep wearing it.

[thehmn]

Years ago I was told there’s an easy way to test if someone has aphantasia: ask them how many windows are in their home. They might ask if windows in doors or windows that leads into other rooms count and you can tell them yes or no because the answer doesn’t actually matter.

Once they tell you the answer ask them how they came to that number. The majority will say they imagined standing in each room and looked around. People with aphantasia will either say they don’t know because they never counted them, or that they know they have three rooms facing an outer wall so there must be at least one window in each of those rooms or another method that used logic rather than imagination.

This isn’t meant to out someone as having aphantasia or anything like that. It’s just a handy method if someone is wondering if they have it, or a fun little exercise between friends with no judgement. You can even do the test on yourself and quickly work out if you have to use imagination or logic.

[theambitiouswoman]

Questions To Ask Yourself If You Want To Become The Best Version of Yourself

What do I really care about? What things are really important to me?

What am I good at, and where do I need help? What am I strong in, and what could I get better at?

What do I want to achieve soon and later? What things do I want to do soon, and what are my bigger, long-term goals?

Am I trying new things and not just staying comfy? Am I doing things that might be a bit scary but good for me?

How do I deal with problems and when things go wrong? What do I do when stuff doesn't work out?

Am I nice to myself when things don't go well? Do I treat myself kindly, especially when things are tough?

How do I use my time, and what's most important? How do I plan my day, and what things matter the most?

Am I learning new stuff regularly? Do I keep finding out new things?

Do I have a good balance between work and fun? Do I make sure to have enough time for work and for things I enjoy?

Do I have good friendships and avoid bad ones? Am I friends with people who make me feel good?

Do I take care of my body? Am I eating well, exercising, and sleeping enough?

Do I think about my feelings and thoughts? Do I pay attention to how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking?

How do I deal with stress and make myself calm? What do I do when I'm stressed out?

Do I help others and make the world better? Do I do things to make people's lives nicer?

Do I have good habits and get rid of bad ones? Are there things I do every day that are good for me? Are there things I should stop doing?

Do I learn from what people say about me? When people give me advice, do I listen and try to get better?

Do I say no when I need to? Do I tell people when I need space or when something isn't okay for me?

What makes me really happy? What do I like to do that makes me feel great?

Do I use money wisely? Am I good at saving and spending money in smart ways?

Do I believe I can improve and get better? When things are tough, do I think I can get through them and learn something?Am I being kind to others and making them feel good? Do I treat people nicely and make them happy?

Do I learn from things I do wrong? When I make a mistake, do I figure out how to do better next time?

Do I try new things, even if they scare me a little? Do I give things a shot, even if they seem a bit scary?

Am I spending time with people who care about me? Do I hang out with folks who like me for who I am?

Do I eat healthy foods and move my body? Am I eating good stuff and getting some exercise?

Am I sharing and helping others when I can? Do I give stuff to others and lend a hand when I'm able to?

Am I paying attention when people talk to me? Do I really listen when others are speaking to me?

Do I take breaks and do things I enjoy? Do I give myself time to rest and do things I like?

Do I say sorry and make up if I hurt someone? When I make someone feel bad, do I apologize and try to make things better?

Do I imagine good things for myself in the future? Do I think about cool stuff I want to do?

Do I stop and relax when I'm feeling stressed? When I'm worried, do I take a moment to calm down?

Do I ask for help when I need it? Do I tell someone when I can't do something on my own?

Do I try my best, even when things are tricky? Even if it's hard, do I give it my all?

Do I pick up after myself and keep things tidy? Am I good at cleaning up and keeping things in order?

Do I use my time for things that matter most? Do I do important stuff before other things?

Do I think about good things that happened today? Do I remember all the nice things that occurred?

Am I okay with making mistakes and learning from them? Do I know it's okay to mess up sometimes and learn from it?

Do I show appreciation for the people around me? Do I let others know I'm thankful for them?

Do I take deep breaths and relax when I'm upset? When I'm mad, do I breathe and try to calm down?

Do I believe I can do better and keep growing? Do I think I can get better at things and keep getting smarter?

Am I happy with who I am right now? Do I like myself just as I am?

Do I feel okay when things don't go as planned? When stuff doesn't work out, do I stay calm?

Do I think about good things about myself? Do I focus on the nice parts of me?

Do I let go of things that make me sad? When something makes me upset, can I move on from it?

Do I notice when I'm feeling worried or scared? Am I aware of when I'm feeling nervous or frightened?

Do I believe I can do things even if they're tough? Can I do hard things if I try?

Do I try to make my mind peaceful? Do I relax my thoughts when they're racing?

Do I find things that make me feel relaxed? What can I do to feel calm and at ease?

Am I patient when things take time? Can I wait without getting upset?

Do I talk kindly to myself in my head? Do I say nice things to myself in my mind?

Am I curious about things and want to learn? Do I like to find out new stuff?

Do I think about good times and happy memories? Do I remember fun things that happened before?

Do I try to understand how others feel? Can I tell what others are feeling?

Do I imagine nice things happening in the future? Can I think about good stuff that might come?

Do I take time to rest and be by myself? Do I give myself breaks and quiet time?

Do I let go of things I can't change? Can I forget about things I can't do anything about?

Do I believe I can do things even if I don't know how yet? Do I think I can learn new things?

Do I tell myself I'm doing a good job? Do I give myself a pat on the back?

Do I stay calm even if things are really busy? Can I be relaxed even when things are crazy?

Do I know that I can make mistakes and it's okay? Do I understand that everyone messes up sometimes?

[nedtylue]

Haha what totally not projecting here anyway

MC With Anxiety

Imagine an mc who has anxiety, and the best cure they have is to hug/latch onto one of their loved one's arm

Obviously, new exchange student mc who's suddenly rooming with total strangers don't have any loved ones down there yet, someone that they're comfortable with, someone that they love, and someone they trust will tell them if they're ever a burden to them

Now don't get me wrong, mc has other ways to deal with anxiety. They have their breathing exercises they found online, they can subtly fidget with something in their hand, they can subtly hug themselves, and if they start feeling too much they can go to the bathroom and take five or ten, fifteen minutes to calm down

But none of them are as effective as latching onto someone's arm. And, sure, they start making pacts with the brothers pretty early into their stay in the Devildom, but

Mammon~ (yes I know Mammon's yellow but there's no yellow here)

While he's Mc first and he's proud of it, and he so obviously cares about Mc from the first day, the literal definition of ride or die, he's also a tsundere

Which means mc has heard him make fun of them multiple times, talking about them like they're beneath him, and denying that he likes Mc in any way, shape or form the second anyone tries teasing him

Mc can see that he cares, but they also see that he has a reputation that he's trying to uphold, and they don't want to ruin that, so they don't go to him. Until he goes to them and offers his arm to them (either to show everyone who Mc belongs to or to make sure Mc doesn't get lost in a crowd)

It'll take mc time, never asking unless it's offered, and they'll be too nervous to ask for his arm until he stops talking about mc like they're beneath him, and until he stops being shy and starts showing that he loves and cares about mc even in public. Only then will mc start seeking him out

Leviathan~

Mc's reaction to Levi is the complete opposite of their reaction to Mammon, cause while they didn't seek Mammon out out of respect, they at first didn't seek Levi out of fear

At first Levi hated Mc's gut. It wasn’t all theatrical like Mammon's reaction to Mc, nope, it was hate. And how could Mc seek comfort from someone who hates them?

Then the pact thing happened, and it takes Mc a lot longer than necessary to stop with the whole he secretly hates me for spoiling to him and forcing a pact onto him and *fuck* I couldn't return his record to him there's no way he's cool with me at all

Like, an embarrassingly long time to finally realise that Levi actually loves and cares about them. They've already made pacts with Beel and Asmo by the time they realised oh. He cares

But they see how shy and nervous Levi is when it comes to them, so they never really initiate any kind of physical contact in public, and Levi, the anxious mess that he is, also doesn't

Mc only ever seeks out Levi's comfort when he's in his room. If they feel overwhelmed and feel like Levi's the best one to comfort them at the moment, they'll go to Levi and either watch him play in silence while trying to be comforted with his mere presence, or they'll so very shyly ask for a hug if it's getting really bad

Beelzebub~

Beel was the first demon Mc was comfortable with enough to latch onto his arm whenever nervous. Mammon saw that and got jealous, thus becoming the second demon

His quiet, blunt nature just put Mc to rest. What he didn't say was clearly shown on his face, and it only took Mc a few days of interacting with Beel before they timidly asked to hold his arm when the crowd made them feel nervous

Beel didn't show any negative emotions at that time. Or anytime after. Actually after a while he started just randomly offering his arm to Mc whenever, and who was Mc to say no to free comfort?

Also his hugs are heavenly. 10/10 puts Mc at ease immediately

Asmodeus~

Mc's problem with Asmo wasn't asking him for his arm or a hug, no. The problem was that they weren't comfortable yet to hug him and link arms with him

The transition here went from I don't like this but too afraid to cause a scene to this is nice actually. He’s also one of the few that Mc doesn't ask for permission when they want a hug or to latch onto his arm, nope! They just go for it!

Asmo seems like he likes it, asking him will draw attention to Mc and embarrass them, so whenever they feel overwhelmed they just go and latch onto his arms. Asmo, would pause whatever he's doing, smile at Mc like they're the most adorable creature in the whole world, then continue as if nothing happened

Satan~

Another one Mc got comfortable with fairly quickly. Why? The vibes~ He has loner vibes, he doesn't look like he'll talk shit about Mc behind there back, he's somewhat blunt with how he feels, and he's quiet. In Mc's eyes, he, along with Beel, are safe

So Mc gets comfortable with him quickly, and they ask for his arm to hug/latch on in stressful situations, and soon Mc starts taking note of when Satan is feeling stressed, and they so timidly go beside and so tenderly hug his arm, unsure of whether he'll want this or lash out at them

This isn’t like the first two or three times no this is everytime they try to stop Satan from losing his cool

And Satan freezes, noticing just how close Mc is, and he either calms down from Mc's presence or forcibly calms himself down because no way in hell is he going to hurt Mc and he will not forgive himself if he accidentally hurt them because he lost himself to his wrath

Mc doesn't hug his arm everytime he loses his cool tho, they only do it when they think that nope, that's not a place Satan will want to rampage on

Belphegore~

Now that's one person Mc wasn't comfortable with from the start, but he's their loved one's brother so they should help him

And then he's free and asks Mc for a hug. Do they want the hug? Absolutely Not, but he looks like someone who talks shit behind people's back, and Mc does not want one of the brothers to hate them for whatever reason

And then they die. That should be the end of that, no? How can Mc trust themselves in the arms of someone who's murdered them before?

But then they see how the brothers start excluding Belphie and are instead focusing on Mc, and it starts with a little feeling of uncomfort, but in just a few days this feeling has turned into vicious, dark, viscous guilt that claws at their throat everytime they see Belphie alone

So they force themselves to be around Belphie, to look comfortable with Belphie, just to convince the brothers that they've forgiven Belphie, that they too should forgive Belphie and let bygones be bygones

And Belphie notices that, and he hates it so fucking much that he wants to snap at Mc to just stay away

But he too feels guilt, because in the few days he's been out of the attic he saw just how much Mc truly meant to his brothers, so he let them be. Let them talk to him no matter how uncomfortable they felt

So they talked and hugged and cuddled with Belphie, desperately ignoring their body screaming at them to run away and the visions of Belphie standing over there lifeless body

And slowly the uncomfortable feeling disappears, their body becomes quiet, and their visions stop. They became comfortable enough with Belphie, as they are with the rest of the brothers, and going a day without the least physical contact with the youngest brother just started to feel wrong

And one day, Mc will realise that they’ve truly forgiven Belphie. And that will be a devastating day for Mc

Lucifer~

Lucifer, the last one Mc feels comfortable enough with to initiate contact. No one can blame them, he's the demon who's been threatening them nonstop since the day they've arrived

They admire him and his willingness to protect his brothers, but he's also half the reason mc needs to latch onto one of their emotional support demon

That is, at least, until he starts showing gratitude towards Mc for what they've done for his family. Until he starts seeking them out for reasons that are poorly masking how he just wants Mc around, and, really, he only needed to stop threatening Mc for them to at the very least not try running out of the room the very first chance they get

Their relationship takes time, and a lot of effort from Lucifer's side for Mc to become comfortable in his presence, and maybe even seek his company

But they still don't ask for his arm. And he notices that, and he doesn't understand why?

It's because Mc notices his aversion to touch, and how seriously he takes his image and reputation, and they respect him enough to not embarass him like that

Some time will pass, and Lucifer will notice how Mc accepts Beel's arm when he offers, and he too will try to offer his arm to Mc and feel incomprehensible happiness when he feels Mc hugging his arm

But nothing will prepare him for the warm, fuzzy feeling that threatens to overpower his pride when Mc seeks out his comfort for the first time

[d3wdropz]

Kissing Yuuji Itadori

hear me out-

imagine how nice kissing yuuji is

like in the beginning, when you two just start dating, the kisses are so shy and clumsy. you guys would be at an arcade or something, just hanging out and having fun. you're playing together at one game and you don't realise how close you both are until you're already leaning in.

it's the first kiss, so it's fast and light- you're barely able to feel his lips as he pulls back with his face flushed and hot. it was experimental, you can tell by the way he's looking at you- asking for permission.

the way his honey-hued eyes move from your own to your lips, it's an unspoken question for more. yuuji's a consent king, so he won't lean in again, you need to make the move now.

when you do, it's deeper than the previous kiss. there's nothing sensual, no tongue, and there doesn't need to be. this kiss is full of young love, attempts at finding a flow that fits you both. yuuji's lips are soft against your own, moving slow and letting you take the lead. a rough hand finds it's way to the back of your neck, where he holds you just the slightest bit closer. it's not a strong grip, yuuji wasn't sure where to put his free hand- the other was placed on the joystick.

as you pull away, he moves his hand to your shoulder, where he starts rubbing slow circles. the two of you don't stray too far, keeping your foreheads pressed together.

it's sweet and soft and completely different from the kisses later on in the relationship.

the longer you're together, the bolder you both get. The kisses get longer, more intimate- yuuji gets more needy.

it's no surprise that as soon as yuuji gets more comfortable with affection and more aware of the boundaries you both set, he's a monster.

every time you're alone in class, training together, or even out on a mission- he's expecting smooches.

he'll look at you with sparkling, innocent eyes as he asks for a kiss. it's, honestly, very cute and you always give in.

until he gives you that look right after you both exercised a curse- and were drenched in it's slimey blood. that time you were cringing from the feeling, exhausted and ready to just get back to the dorms.

the ever-oblivious yuuji is making his way over to you, ready for a celebration kiss. it breaks your heart to watch him whine and beg for a kiss as you deny him, wanting to shower first.

he's bummed for the rest of the day, until you go to him later- after you both cleaned up- and give him a peck on the cheek.

it's all he needs to bounce back, yuuji's a little ball of sunshine again. he's hugging you tightly as he asks and begs for more kisses. each time you pull away he leans closer and gives you puppy dog eyes.

of course you give in, the image of his sad face when you rejected him earlier is still fresh and you want to make it up to him.

you both spend the night in his bed, hugging and binging some reality tv show you've been meaning to watch.

overall a 10/10 experience- would recommend it

[windser]

oky so i finally finished the main story update and i DEFINITELY prefer that sylus to his cards. but i also just now want to be his sugar baby 🥹

hear me out right, he wants you to spend his money but you also still have to earn it?? you're his sugar baby, his little kitten not a freeloader.

asdfhsjgskd its so stupid but imagine it being like a chore wheel— a check list of requirements. and when you bounce up to his desk while he's reviewing some documents, asking for his card, and he just like gives you this assessing look before asking you these laundry list of things

did you do your exercises in the gym? yes, sylus

have you cleaned and restocked all your guns? i haven't even shot them this week. because honestly, what was the point of recleaning spotless? but then his eyes get this bit of a wispy look in them like he's considering how long he might withhold his card and you fold. yes, i did. also we're low on gun oil.

the point is, he provides but he still has expectations of you. when he uses his card, its for your necessities. but when you get a hold of it, its a glorified shopping spree.

and he knows this. and he's fine with that. he has the money sitting there, burn it.

but when he let's you loose to take advantage of that, most importantly, he has to know that you're safe.

which is why he pulls your pliant body closer, red eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides along the length of your thigh before reaching the holster.

his hum of approval feels like a light rumble against his lips as they press to yours briefly.

"good kitten. have fun. "

[luckykiwiii101]

AND WHO AM I?

(THE SELF CONCEPT GUIDE)

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ィ⠀xoxo, gossip girl ࿐

Hey Upper East Siders.

Once upon a time, you told yourself that you have everything you want. Well I heard that your new state’s visit was short. And apparently not very sweet. But you know what is? Revenge. And it’s best served cold. Who’s hungry? I hope you are.

Outer self, or inner self? Choose your side, or run and hide. We have a feeling this one’s to the death. Well for the smart upper east siders who chose their inner self, this one’s for you. And for those who haven’t, failure must be the best policy in some zip codes, but not this one.

First things first, your mindset calls for a makeover! And if you didn’t know, on the upper east side, a makeover isn’t a facade! It’s the new you, until you decide to change, which I hope you don’t. Gossiping about your success and scandals are a lot more fun than your failures. And trust me, there were a lot - of those…

Now, ask yourself. What would Blair Waldorf do? If there’s one thing we know about Blair, it’s that she settles for nothing less than what she wants. When another bomb lands in B’s lap, she uses it as ammunition. But all you do is surrender and put down your arms. Talk about polar opposites! And you wonder why you still don’t have what you want.

✰ B’s PERFECT MINDSET! ✰

Here’s your new mindset. And it’s up for adoption. You don’t have the heart to leave a newborn baby hanging, do you? Exercise these new feelings through feeling ✰ THIS!

✰ I have everything I want

✰ I manifest so effortlessly & instantly

✰ Regardless of everything, I have everything I want

✰ I’m doing everything right

✰ Nothing can ruin my manifestations because I already have them.

Tattoo these rules in your mind. They are part of your new identity. You are going to be the walking embodiment of these.

✰ YOUR ROUTINE ✰

You will now apply these rules to the newly updated November challenge. ✰ CLICK HERE

NOTE: Don’t assume that without a perfect routine, you won’t get what you want. Regardless of EVERYTHING, you ALREADY have all your desires!!! Absolutely nothing can stop you!

P.S. Never stop until you are completely satisfied in imagination!

And Who Am I? That’s one secret i’ll never tell. The only one. You know you love me. XOXO

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[betterbooktitles]

"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

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