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Spotify wrapped 2022 drabbles - where you send me a number from 1 - 100 and I’ll write a 5-sentence drabble based on that song in my Spotify Wrapped list. .
# 10 Pressure (ft Tove Lo) - Martin Garrix
Pairing: Pierre Gasly x reader
Warnings: NSFW
AN: Spicy Pierre
“Crave you back with me
Pretend I'll be good”
“Pierre-” It comes out in both a prayer and a curse, his name rolling off the tip of your tongue so desperate you can almost taste it.
He hums against your clit, all teeth and tongue while he pumps two fingers into you, knowing you’re on borrowed time and so he picks up his pace, eager to give you the high you’ve been chasing for the past five minutes or so. He bites down then, ever so gently, and curls his fingers just right and it’s enough to send you over the edge, grinding against him as he laps up your juices.
You’re not sure how long it takes you to ride out your orgasm but in the end it’s a knock on the door of his drivers room that pulls you out of your blissful state and back into the real world, letting out a quiet whimper when Pierre licks through your folds one last time before he pulls away.
When he stands up there’s a wicked grin playing on his lips and he leans in then, lips ghosting over yours before he licks into your mouth, making you taste yourself on his tongue until he steps back and shoots you a wink, “Keep yourself wet for me, ma chatte. I’ll see you after the press conference.”
You do as you’re told, of course you do, and so you sneak your hand down just as he zips up his race suit and steps into the garage, your fingers sliding through your folds with ease from the way he’s left you absolutely wrecked.
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Draw Me Like One of Your Dwarf Girls, Eddie
Pairing: Eddie Munson x You
Summary: Eddie decides to work on his drawing skills, and accidentally awakens a monster in the process.
Contains: Titanic references, female nudity, a brush with death.
Word Count: 1.3k-ish
"Draw me like one of your dwarf girls, Eddie," you say in a sultry voice, trying your hardest not to laugh.
"What did I tell you about talking?" He pauses to give you a pointed look, since he's already told you to pipe down several times. You roll your eyes, and he returns to his drawing with a renewed vigor.
It's early 1998, and you've recently dragged your poor Eddie to a theater to see that damn Titanic movie everybody and their mother keeps raging about. All 3 hours of it. You may have neglected to mention the runtime when you bought the tickets. You owe him.
He survived, but was suddenly faced with the desire to "work on his people-sketching skills." Which of course meant it took him less than a week to convince you to strip and pose like Rose on the couch, wearing only that red guitar pick necklace he's had since high school.
You're stretched out and exposed and already bored. Two hours ago, he'd adjusted your hand a quarter of an inch this way, your knee a quarter of an inch that way, and you'd been instructed not to move.
Well, it felt like two hours, but it was really only about 30 minutes.
With nothing else to do, and being mildly disappointed that he didn't find your commentary amusing, you watch his eyes follow the pencil scratching across the paper you can't see. He's cute when he's concentrating. Tongue poking out, brow furrowed, that spark of creativity in his eye. It must be going well, because he smiles occasionally. He even giggled once. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably had something to do with a nipple. It was a little chilly.
"Just as I thought; it's a masterpiece."
"Are you done?" You'd only been in this position for an eternity.
"Oh yeah, this baby's getting framed." Ignoring you, he holds his sketch pad out to view it at an arm's length, beaming at his creation.
"Can I move now?!"
"Yeah, you can move."
You stretch your stiff limbs and get up off the couch, reaching for the flannel he'd discarded on a chair nearby, buttoning a few buttons as you pad over to where he sat admiring his work.
You place a hand on his back and look over his shoulder at the figure on his sketchbook. You're confused, but you can't take your eyes off of it. You can't think of anything to say. Until…
"What. The FUCK. Is THAT."
He looks up innocently and says, "What? I was just following instructions. You kept talking, figured I better listen."
You have no words.
You do, however, have a fucking BEARD in Eddie's drawing.
He sits there, looking up at you with a proud grin on his face, waiting for you to react.
You stare at him wordlessly, still in a state of shock.
Until he laughs at you. LAUGHS AT YOU.
Your brain begins to swirl furiously, until it flashes one word: KILL.
You clench your fists, and he begins to sense that you're not going to start laughing with him. His eyes widen, and he jumps out of his chair, vaults over the coffee table, and stands on the couch.
"I can explain," he says quickly, trying to sound calm, steps unsteady on the cushions.
You can explain too. Explain to the responding officers how one Edward James Munson met his gruesome demise.
"It's Tolkien."
You ignore him and advance slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Eyes unblinking. Blood boiling. Steam probably coming out of your ears. He jumps off the couch as you approach the coffee table.
"It's from a book!" He's walking backward, holding out his sketch pad like a lion tamer with a chair.
His eyes bulge as he hits something solid. You've backed him into a corner. Literally.
"Tolkien! Middle-earth! The Hobbit! Nerd shit!"
Nerd shit won't save you now, Munson. You narrow your eyes and prepare to go in for the kill. He panics.
"Dwarf women have beards! It was a joke! I'm sorry! I love you!"
The "I love you" makes you pause, just as you were about to pounce and slash your prey to pieces. The hell?
"What?" you ask, giving your head a slight shake in confusion.
"Dwarf women have beards. In the books. You said to draw you like a dwarf. It was a joke. I thought you'd know what it was."
"You thought I'd know some random detail from a book I haven't read in over a decade?"
"I mean, it's a pretty memorable detail…"
You roll your eyes, heave a sigh, and pinch the bridge of your nose. Why is this not surprising?
"So you're not gonna kill me?" He's still backed into his corner. You consider it for a moment, deciding that you've played with him enough for today.
"Not tonight, Munson."
He exhales and leans his head back against the wall.
"But I WILL get you for this," you threaten, pointing a finger at him. He nods, used to this constant back-and-forth game you'd both been playing for over a decade. He knew you'd never really hurt him, just like you knew he wouldn't hurt you either. It was just a game.
You turn to walk away, and hear him whisper to the abomination he's still clutching: "Don't worry baby, you're still gettin' framed."
You whip around, eyes flashing. He gulps. You step closer, making him lean further back into the wall. He's cute when he's scared.
"Give it."
He stares at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his.
"Give it," you repeat, holding out a hand and waiting for him to place his sketchbook into it.
Reluctantly, he hands it to you. You maintain eye contact as your fingers find the thick cover page, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at his ungodly creation again. You slam it shut and he flinches.
"What are you gonna do with it?"
Beat your nerdy ass to death with it.
Still clutching his sketch pad, you step back silently and gesture for him to walk on by with your free hand. He slowly peels himself off the wall and begins to move with an apprehensive look in your direction, and a thought occurs to you.
As he scurries past you, you smack him on the ass with his sketchbook. He whirls around with a yelp, hands clutching his cheeks. It's cardboard, you drama queen. You step closer and swing the book at his arm.
"You made me lay there for AN HOUR! While! You! Drew! That!" You punctuate each word with another smack of the sketch pad. He continues overreacting to each hit and falls to the floor with a wail when you finish yelling, clutching his imaginary wounds. You lift the book above your head with both hands, ready to finish him.
"It started out real! But I couldn't make it look like you! It wasn't pretty enough!" You graciously decide to let him continue, still holding the sketchbook in an attack position, just in case. "I tried," he explains calmly now, "but it wasn't working out, and then you said the dwarf thing, and I thought it would be funny. I'll make it up to you."
"Damn right, you will." You lower the book and release it. It lands on his chest with a light thud. He grins from his position on the floor. You step over him and make your way toward the bedroom.
"Starting now," you inform him from the hallway, not slowing or turning around. You hear him scramble to get up, knock something over, and curse before he hurries in your direction.
He's lucky he's cute.
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btw about Neil Gaiman I periodically agree with the 'Neil Gaiman is annoying' stuff bc I feel like both he and Amanda Palmer seem like people who I would go insane stuck in a room with bc we have very different ideas about art and suchlike. and I also do think that the career trajectory he's on lately is cynically redoing his greatest hits and pretending that was the dream all along when it clearly was not. which is at best meh.
having said which
as far as I can tell by far the most common complaint about Neil Gaiman is "Snow, Glass, Apples is problematic/gross/it's got incest and rape and frames the child as the aggressor"
which strikes me as a weird complaint to pull out of a 40 year body of work tbh when that short story is pretty clearly coming from a place of 'how far can I push this'. like you don't have to like the story. I don't really like the story. but it is. a horror story.
like and this is the thing with particularly 90s alt horror right? a lot of the interest is in transgression and sitting in the worst possible perspective and seeing what happens if you pull those strings. like I really like Clive Barker for example but there's a good chunk of his short stories that I'm like I'm not picking up what you're putting down Clive this seems Kinda Off. but that willingness to write some trite or Bad Message horror fiction that doesn't land is imo a side effect of being willing to try writing uncomfortable and unpleasant fiction at all. which is what horror is for, among other things, it's for creating discomfort as a form of catharsis or engagement.
like I am not a huge fan of the type of sex-horror that pops up in a lot of Gaiman's work and other contemporary horror writers - to me I don't find it upsetting or horny it just ends up feeling kind of edgy and tryhard - but I'm also a bit like. it does seem like a lot of people's beef with Neil Gaiman is that In The 90s He Was A Horror Writer
and this approach to Problematic Horror in Snow, Glass, Apples I find kind of microcosmic of how The Discourse often approaches art in this kind of 1:1 way. if you write a story which seems to line up with rape apologia it can only be because you agree with it. if you write a story about transphobia you're a transphobe. if you write a story that makes me genuinely uncomfortable you're attacking me.
but artwork, especially art like horror that's not necessarily trying to provoke enjoyment as its main response, is necessarily hit and miss. and if what you're shooting for is discomfort then whether it works, falls flat or goes too far incredibly depends on your audience. and making good art - as in art that makes its audience think, art that opens the audience up to discomfort and catharsis and sticks with them and changes them - requires the space to experiment and tbh the space to fuck up. like they aren't all going to be winners and they certainly aren't all going to work for you as a singular audience.
personally I don't see the appeal of Snow, Glass, Apples, less cause it's nasty and more cause it's hack. ooh an edgy monstrous version of a fairy tale where there's lots of rape and cannibalism? you're soooo original Neil. but like. that's fine. I don't really vibe with like 70% of Neil Gaiman stuff I've read but I still like Neil Gaiman because the stuff that works for me really works for me.
idk I think there's a lot of folk on this website who shouldn't interact with horror cause they clearly aren't interested in being horrified. that's not everyone who dislikes Snow, Glass, Apples, but it's a real undercurrent to a lot of the criticism and tbh this kinda vibe is shit for art. making standout art What Is Good also requires being ready to make art which stands out for the wrong reasons. sometimes they'll be the same art to different people.
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ADHD information for fanfic writers:
Diagnostic Process:
the diagnostic process is different in every country, but this is a basic overview
- an ADHD referral can come from any type of doctor, unlike referrals for other neurodivergences
- the wait list depends on where you live and how old you are. typically the younger you are, the shorter the wait
- ADHD has to be diagnosed by a psychiatrist or by a doctor who has taken a specialized course to be certified in diagnosing and handling ADHD
- most doctors will make you fill out a questionnaire about your mental health. these questionnaires involves sections about family history, personal history, and statements that you have to agree or disagree with
- a good psychiatrist won’t diagnose you with ADHD during your first visit. they will instead spend the first few visits getting to know you and the state of your mental health
- most people are assessed for depression when being assessed for ADHD. this is because depression can present itself in similar ways. if diagnosed with depression and open to medication, the psychiatrist will first prescribe antidepressants and see how those affect you before moving on with the ADHD assessment
Meds:
- most ADHD meds are taken in the morning since they normally wear off after 8-12 hours
- when meds wear off we go through what’s known as a “crash” or “medication rebound”
- ADHD crashes are pure hell which is why some people with ADHD choose to only take meds during the week or they do nothing on the weekend as a reset of sorts
- basically, when our meds wear off all of our symptoms come back at the same time and we get overstimulated to the point of exhaustion
- some people have smaller doses of their meds that they take at the beginning of the crash. this means they can prolong the crash by a couple hours
- for some people, the first time taking meds is hell. the change is very noticeable and abrupt. i wouldn’t stop talking because it was “too quiet” (it being my mind)
- your dosage is not based on body type or weight and just because you take a high dose in one drug doesn’t mean you take a high dose in all others (my ADHD meds are 10mg higher than the highest prescribed amount but my antipsychotics are .5mg lower than the lowest prescribed dose)
- vyvanse is most often prescribed to people with combo ADHD, ritalin to those with hyperactive ADHD (especially those with impulsivity issues), and adderall for inattentive (no, this is not something that is typically disclosed or well-known but if you’ve talked to enough people w/ ADHD you begin to see a pattern) other ADHD meds are available but less likely to be prescribed
- other meds are also taken into account when getting a prescription for ADHD. vyvanse is the most versatile and is usually the one prescribed if you’re on other medications
- ADHD meds are stimulants which means doctors will never give you refills (if they do, they could lose their license)
- since they’re stimulants, for the first year you have to go to the psychiatrist’s bi-weekly for the first few months, then monthly after that so they can see how you are doing
- ADHD meds are known for lowering sex drives and increasing hunger (sometimes the opposite may happen, as with most drugs, but these are most common)
- it takes about 1/2 hour to an hour for meds to kick in and many of us are able to tell the exact moment they start working
Other Substances:
- the neurons and chemicals in the body of an ADHD person are fucked. this means that many substances and medications have either no effect on us, or the opposite effect of what they are intended for
speaking from personal experience:
- caffeine makes me tired
- melatonin and other sleeping aids like dextromethorphan, which can be found in many cough syrups, make me hyper
- weed makes me feel lighter, but it never affects me more than that. i never get a “proper high” like other people (ie; i find no more joy or fascination in bright colours or moving objects than i usually do)
- while “sugar highs” in general are a myth, they’re real for people with ADHD! they stimulate our dopamine and opioid receptors which gives us a burst of energy
- additionally, people with ADHD are more likely to be addicted to illegal stimulants like cocaine because it calms them down (yup, you read that right. when someone with ADHD does cocaine their mind quiets and they mellow down instead of the usual hyper-active high that neurotypicals get)
Additional Information:
- we’re lacking some of the neurotransmitters in our brains so it takes us longer to process information, and we have “more” thoughts than neurotypicals since our additional thoughts aren’t processed out
- we get what’s called “executive dysfunction” or “ADHD paralysis” where we are physically unable to do things despite no real physical limitations (for non-ADHD folks: try putting your hand in fire. you’ll notice that you are either physically unable to or that your body somewhat restrains you from doing it. this is what executive dysfunction is like. for ADHD folks: do not try this since we’re also less likely to have self-preservation instincts)
- basically, i can sit for hours thinking about doing the dishes, screaming at myself in my head to just do them, but i’m still unable to
- we leave trails! we have so many thoughts going through our head that we forget them all the time, so when we get a thought like “i think the printer is low on paper, i should check” we abandon all tasks in favour of the new thought. however, the remains of those tasks stay where we left them, and thus, an ADHD trail is made
- we have both the worst and best memory of anyone you will ever meet. i might be able to tell you the exact outfit you wore on a specific day five years ago but i won’t remember what i ate for breakfast
- when we get bored, we get depressed. like, life is meaningless and i want to curl up in a ball and die depressed. sometimes we need someone to physically force us out of bed to get us out of our funk (and sometimes all it takes to get out of the funk is doing something fun which makes us feel ridiculous when we think about how depressed we were prior)
- since boredom is detrimental to us, we have to constantly be having fun which, in and of itself, is not fun. this is also why a lot of us end up doing shift work or working dangerous jobs
- we’re adrenaline junkies. this isn’t even a “most of us” situation, it’s all of us. the only difference is how we get that adrenaline. (some get it by jumping out of a plane, others get it by working on assignments in a time crunch)
- we’re social beings. even if we’re introverts, we thrive on social interactions. without them our dopamine plummets and we, once again, get depressed
- all silences are awkward to us. it doesn’t matter if you’re the person we’re most comfortable with in the world, silence is always awkward. or, more specifically, we feel like we need to fill it which is why we often ramble
obviously there’s far more to ADHD than just this and everything can change person by person but i hope this helps to gain a bit more of a general understanding on ADHD
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