"why did you write that"
my fetish
my friend's fetish
not my fetish but it fits in the story so i threw it in there as a treat. you're welcome.
4. the character's fetish and i'm committed to portraying them with absolute accuracy

blake kathryn


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@sengapremacy
"why did you write that"
my fetish
my friend's fetish
not my fetish but it fits in the story so i threw it in there as a treat. you're welcome.
4. the character's fetish and i'm committed to portraying them with absolute accuracy

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im the prettiest canary in this mine
what the fuck is that smell
Once a month we'll post a song and we challenge you to create Strollonso content!
It could be an edit, a fic, a piece of art.
When you've posted don't forget to tag us so we can promote it.
This months song;
Smoochie Girl - Ashnikko
Hello friends, we have a strollonso server going on.
If you're a friend who wants to cheer for our boys, discuss fic ideas, share pics of the strollonso boys and their pups (a/b/o friendly too) feel free to join us HERE
join us pelase
pls
āļø more fic writer asks!
reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions theyād like you to answer!
the last sentence you wrote
a character whose POV youāre currently exploring
how you feel about your current WIP
a story idea you havenāt written yet
first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP
the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)
your preferred writing fonts
if you had to write a sequel to a fic, youād write one forā¦
start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?
what is the longest amount of time youāve let a draft rest before you finished it?
a WIP youād like to finish someday
a trope youāre really into right now
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where do you get your inspiration?
favorite weather for writing
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talk about your writing and editing process
if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic
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pick three keywords that describe your writing
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share a fic youāre especially proud of

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why is lube so expensive. This shit should be provided by the government
if i lived in new york id be getting some of that free Mamdani lube rn
mamdani hasnāt even fixed the lube prices yet thatās the problem
āHey. Itās okay. Weāre okay.ā
āI know.ā
āDo you?ā
ā⦠Hm?ā
āDo you know?ā
āI⦠I..ā
āSh⦠Come here.ā
Fernando waits.
He does because Lance has heard it all and weathered all of it on top of the remarks that loop in his head when he tries to sleep. He does because Lance aches; the new car gives his wrists no relief and his face twists at every movement in their hotel room later that night. He does because Lance is cracking and ready to break, but somehow he doesnāt. Somehow, he wipes his tears and faces each new day far beyond when Fernando would have been eaten alive by the doubt and stress, so Fernando holds his hands out anyway, ready to catch Lance and put the pieces back together again whenever he may need it.
This weekend wasnāt easy. They know it all too well. Fernando knows that Lance needs support and wonāt say it, and Lance knows that Fernando will give it anyway. The air in the hotel room is too chilly, air conditioning too recycled and artificial, so they cling together under blankets and sheets, Lance making himself small and wrapping his long limbs around Fernandoās body, face-to-face if it wasnāt for Lance burying himself in Fernandoās bare chest, cheek to his heartbeat.
Fernando presses kisses to Lanceās fluffy hair, finally dry after a shower, although cool dampness still lingers at the roots. His hands splay on Lanceās back, possessively claiming him in a way thatās like an aphrodisiac to Lance most nights, but tonight? Tonight, itās comforting; his breathing slowly evens out as Fernando repeats what his hands convey again and again: āHey, is okay. I promise we are okay. You are okay. I have you.ā
āI know,ā murmurs Lance softly, sticking a band-aid over a bone-deep gash in the way heās all too good at doing, and Fernando wonāt have it. Not tonight.
āDo you?ā he asks, arms tightening fiercely around Lanceās back, fingers pressing into the divots in his spine.
Lance turns his head. His eyes are wide and soulful but red-rimmed, lashes dark and heavy with tears. It strikes Fernando how innocent Lance always looks when heās like thisāwhen heās quietly suffering the consequences of being anything but. āHm?ā asks Lance after a shuddery little breath.
Fernando cradles Lanceās cheeks in his hands, thumbs resting on his cheekbones, poised. āDo you know?ā he clarifies, gaze heavy and imploring but never, ever angry, or heavy in the way that makes Lance feel small. A knot unties itself deep in Lanceās chest.
Lance shudders in Fernandoās grip as he breathes deeply. āIā¦ā he tries, and the uncertain way he chews his lip tells Fernando that heās not even convincing himself. His face twists like his emotions are tugging at the seams, desperate to escape. āIā¦ā
When his eyebrows furrow and more tears spill, Fernando pulls him close again, hands in his hair as he presses Lanceās head close. He kisses the places between his fingers where Lanceās hair sticks up, and although Lance cries into his chest, each kiss is returned, a little shapeless touch of lips to skin with all the intent that Lance can muster and all the love in Lanceās heart. āShh,ā soothes Fernando, waiting on words to say aloud as he vows for the thousandth time to protect Lance until the day he dies. āCome here.ā
And Lance might already be as close as he can, but he does. Somewhere deep down, two pieces of them converge, meeting for the first time, never to part.
Replied to a recent comment on a fic that I wrote years ago and then took the time to revisit previous comments and I say this with complete sincerity:
Leaving a comment on a fic provides compounding delight. Authors will love initially receiving a comment, will love later recalling this and that particular aspect of a comment, and they will love rereading comments and being reminded how readers enjoyed the work.
Comments are not a one-time act of kindness and consideration. They keep giving.
Thank you to those who take the time to give a nice word, describe an excited reaction, point out favorite parts, and generally let it be known that not only has the work been read but it had some effect. :)
Reblog if you don't use Generative AI to write fanfics/original fics or to create fanart/original art.
Things whispered during Hugs
āHey there.ā
āI missed you (too).ā
āAre you okay?ā
āWhere have you been?ā
āDonāt look at them.ā
āDonāt let go. Just⦠give me a second longer, please.ā
āI got you, I got youā¦ā
āItās okay to cry.ā
āPlease pretend like you know me. Heās been following me for three blocks.ā
āFuck, I really needed this.ā
āYouāre shaking⦠What happened?ā
āBreathe with me.ā
āYouāre freezing. Come here, donāt let go.ā
āIf you cry, I will as well. Just as a warning.ā
āI thought I lost you.ā
āTell me what happened.ā
[Prompt Calender: February 12th, Hug Day]

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types of kisses
RELIEVED after worrying about the other, cupping their face, pulling back to gaze into their eyes, āyou okay?ā
WANDERING, leaving hickeys, looking up to watch their reaction, worshipping their body, nipping their skin, pressing them back down, biting gently
SLOPPY, lazily drunk, groaning, ruining make up,
SOFT, several in quick succession, cradeling their head, arms around wait, reassuring, morphing into a hug
PLAYFUL, in between giggles, nipping the otherās lips, pulling away and leaning back in
CASUAL, upon meeting or separating, when entering a room, just because, on the cheek or forehead or hand, from behind while getting ready and watching in the mirror
DESPERATE, stumbling across the room, pressing against one another while pulling clothes off, gasping into the otherās mouth, teeth accidentally clashing, eventually wandering downwards
ANONYMOUS, in a club, not knowing the otherās name, back to the wall, gasping, hands wandering, āwanna get out of here?ā
[Prompt Calender: February 13th, Kiss Day]
u know the fic is gonna be good when u keep having to take breaks from writing it just to take a breath bc its absolutely filthy
writing a lot of smut is so funny bc regular duties get mixed in with diabolical shit. today i was mentally going over what i have to do in my head and it was like "hmm ok i have to get groceries, wash my hair, start writing the strollonstroll threesome petplay omo fic with cock cages and leg humping, take my pills, etc etc" and that's totally normal
I genuinely need a social life
I can't keep doing this shittt
PLEASE ON BEHALF OF LANCE NATION KEEP DOING THIS SHIT
breaking news: aston martin gives up on 2026 and decides to cheer others from the grand stand instead

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strollonso ficlet; ~1k, E, outsider pov, dryhumping, needy lance
When Stoffel visits Lance and Fernandoānothing formal, just a few close friends on the team coming over for a drink and a chatāhe finds that Lance seems to have permanently attached himself to Fernandoās lap.
He manages to look supremely casual about it, too; Fernando sits with one leg propped on the other knee at the end of the couch, and when Lance finishes giving people their libations of choice, he doesnāt waste a second before sprawling out on Fernandoās lap, leaning himself on his forearm on the arm of the couch so he can look out at the rest of the room and longingly up at Fernando in equal measure. His long legs extend far past Fernandoās lap, one crossed casually over the other in his soft-looking gray sweats.
Neither Fernando nor Lance bats an eye when Lance sits down like this; even as Lance shifts around and makes himself comfortable, Fernandoās attention doesnāt break from the groupās conversation. The only noticeable change is how his arm falls from its resting place on the back of the couch to splay on Lanceās thigh. When Lance moves, Fernandoās hand momentarily tenses, tendons rising up under skin.
Lance is talking and laughing, his smile an easygoing one, and his whole body is loose. Stoffel notices that Lance likes to look at Fernando when Fernando laughs. Lanceās face tilts up, and his deep, soulful irises touch his top eyelids, blanketing on thick, dark eyelashes that cut like darts through the dots of light reflecting off of his eyes.
Stoffel canāt help but notice another habit of Lanceās. Sometimes, Lance will go quiet, the comfortable, easy expression on his face turning to something almost concerned; his eyebrows furrow and he chews on his lip. Heāll get increasingly squirmy, hand gripping tightly over Fernandoās on his thigh as he shifts again and again. Heāll tuck his knees up to his chest just to give Fernandoās now-fallen hand a dismayed look and return to his old position, albeit tenser, less natural, like heās trying and failing to look casual
Itās a few minutes of thatāof his constant squirming and steadily reddening faceāuntil heāll turn over in Fernandoās lap so his face is pressed into the crook of Fernandoās neck. Heāll awkwardly rest one knee in the triangle formed by Fernandoās legs while keeping the other leg pivoted out, letting him rest his weight on Fernandoās thigh while still fitting into the space carved out by Fernandoās body.
Lance will keep stillāso still that he looks frozenāfor a minute, maybe two, although it feels like forever to Stoffel, now checked out of the conversation (which Fernando still follows as if nothing is happening) and watching raptly. Then, almost imperceptibly, Lance will move.
Itās the tiniest motion at first that looks a lot like another shiftāLanceās hips sliding half an inch up Fernandoās thighābut everything else looks different. Lance buries his face further into Fernando and grips hard to whatever parts of him he can reach, and Fernando, with a short but unmistakable glance and warm smile down, will settle his hands on Lanceās lower back and waist.
Lance will move like that again, and again, and again, building up a bit of a rhythm for himself, but his movements become shakier and shakier like heās holding himself back. Heāll rut his hips just a little farther into Fernandoās body this timeāand that breaks the dam. His back rises and falls with his quickening breath as he trembles all over, knuckles going white, and he ruts maybe just a little faster, maybe just a little harder.
Itās not in stages, but instead itās a slow build, his movements going from hesitant and tiny to desperate and impossible to miss: he bucks his hips against Fernandoās body, tense legs flexing, and little whines become just barely audible over the sound of fabric sliding together. Itāll be minutes of thisāminutes of Lance making himself feel good as Fernando encourages the motions with steady hands on his hips and ass but otherwise pays him no mind, continuing to talk like normal. Whenever he laughs and jostles Lance, Lanceās body jerks, and his hips press forward hard, staying there for a second or two until he picks his normal rhythm up again.
No matter how long it lastsāand it can certainly last longāStoffel always feels like itās done too soon when the pace of Lanceās hips speeds up to frantic, and then he freezes, squeezing Fernandoās thigh between his own and digging his fingernails in as his grip gets impossibly tighter and his body gives an animalistic shudder.
Every muscle in his body will relax, and during the short time afterwards where heās catching his breath, Fernando will drop a kiss on Lanceās hair and softly call him a good boy before helping him turn back over to his usual position, red-faced and sweaty, brown irises usurped by blown black pupils. Fernando will pet soothingly over the middle of the fresh wet patch on the crotch of Lanceās sweats, just once, and then leave Lance to recollect himself. Lance will slowly uncurl himself from Fernandoās warmth, and before Stoffel knows it, Lance is back to normal. Thatās usually when Stoffel (and sometimes another guest or two) chooses to excuse himself to the bathroom.
If he takes a while in there, thereās a 50-50 shot that when he comes back, Lance will have started up again, and Stoffel settles in his chair, more than happy to watch his favorite show all over again.
liked the ficlet? youāll probably like take a seat (time to feast) as well xoxo
Aston Martin 2026 season moodboard š„°š„°š„°