#but I like sharing content about my stories

[chilling-seavey]

Dreamland (ln4) - Epilouge

↳ A/N And finally, Lando's little fairytale will have its happily ever after...

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 2.4k

↳ Warnings: NONE 

PART EIGHT

Two Years Later

The multi-story bookstore was nestled in the heart of Monte Carlo's most prominent shopping centre and the customers bustled about contently through the aisles and up the escalators like it was their second home. In the centre of the spacious atrium of the sizeable store, a few employees were finishing setting up a brand new display table with the filled cardboard boxes of new stock piled beside them. A few customers drifted by curiously to see what the most recent release was and the employees were happy to answer questions. On the other hand, a few well cultured customers lingered around the store just as a way to pass time until the display was ready. 

With an Exacto knife in hand, Oscar approached said table and slit open the tape that sealed one of the boxes, ordering the employees sternly but politely, “Time is running out. Let’s try and get as many of these on display as possible, as soon as possible, okay?” 

The underpaid employees nodded frantically and increased their speed to please him. He pulled out his phone and answered the incoming call with a huff and a half-stressed ‘hello’ that had Charles glancing at him as he rushed past.

Holding Max’s hand, Charles left Oscar to his own devices as they approached the display table themselves next and he reached for one of the books inside. It was heavy in his hand but he smiled at it proudly and tilted it side to side to watch how the hardcover sleeve shimmered in the artificial lighting of the store. 

He looked up at his boyfriend, “Well?”

“Beautiful work as always.” Max answered, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

“My first time with one of my photographs on the cover of a book.” he said proudly. 

Max praised him without a second thought, “It’s what you deserve.” 

They shared a proper kiss and then Charles pulled the book to his chest, announcing, “I’m gonna keep this copy. I need to get it signed later tonight.” 

Max reached into the cardboard box for a copy of his own, agreeing to Charles’ idea himself, and they left the employees to their work. They crossed the book store’s atrium to the carpeted clearing of the main floor where a few bar tables were set up and covered with white tablecloths and little floral centerpieces. Along the windowed wall that looked out towards the street was a rectangular table of hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at which Alex and George were setting out cans of soda and arranging the plates and napkins just so. 

Sneaking up behind him, Max tapped George on the opposite shoulder so George turned his attention in the opposite direction, allowing Max to sneak his arm past him to grab a taste of one of the appetizers, undetected. Alex snorted in light amusement at Max’s slick move and Charles, with his hand in the crook of his boyfriend’s arm, guided him away with a smile. George looked back at Alex dumbly. 

“What was that?” he asked. 

Alex shrugged, “Ghost, maybe?”

George looked over his shoulder again. 

The sound of a camera shutter going off had the both of them turning the other way where Lily stood at the end of the table with Charles’ DSLR camera in hand. She snapped another photo and then sent them both a smile from behind the camera. 

“Smile!” she instructed. 

George put his arm around Alex’s shoulders and they broke into grins together to pose for another picture. 

“Beautiful.” Lily nodded once in approval, lowering the camera as she stepped around the table to join them, her eyes focused on the screen to skim through a few recent shots. 

“I know you are, but what am I?” Alex nudged her. 

She shot him a little unimpressed glare and nudged him back, answering quietly, “Incredibly breathtaking.” 

He dipped down to kiss her cheek with a cheesy grin that had her turning away from him bashfully, especially under George’s close presence and the way he stared at them with an amused smile. Alex just wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her close again despite her silent shy protests. 

“Does Charles know you took his camera?” Alex asked her.

“Not yet.” Lily chuckled. 

Changing the subject, George gestured to the neatly organized table of food as he asked her, “Do you like our spread?” 

“Yeah,” Lily nodded, raising the camera to take a haphazard picture of it, “It looks great.”

“Thanks.” Alex stretched dramatically, “Took a lot of work. Someone should write a book about it.”

George offered jokingly, “Hey, I have just the person in mind to do that for you!” 

Lily silence them with her hand up before pointing out the large display window directly in front of them that opened out to the bustling streets of Monte Carlo, “Look who’s back.” 

George and Alex broke into excited grins and the three of them drifted their eyes to the nearby double entry doors as they were opened and the last of their little group arrived into the air conditioned book store from the Monaco summer humidity.

Regardless of the twenty-something-degree weather outside, Lando still wore dress slacks with a button up tucked into them, the fabric neatly ironed and smooth but only getting wrinkled where the toddler sat on his hip. She wore a little dress and sparkly shoes that hugged her dangling stockinged feet on either side of his torso, although her entire body was almost completely taken over by the bouquet of pastel peonies she clutched in her little arms. 

“We made it!” Lando told her sweetly as he stepped over the threshold into the bookstore. 

She grinned at him, showing off her little gummy toothy smile that was half blocked by the cellophane wrap around the flowers in her arms. Just out the way of the door, he crouched down to set her on her feet and she whined softly and tried to climb back in his arms.

Lando’s gentle hand rested on her back as he spoke to her in the gentlest voice, crouched at her level, “Cuddles are for later, okay? We gotta go surprise Mommy with her pretty flowers now.”

With her fingers in her mouth, the toddler leaned into him casually as if to try and persuade him to pick her up again. He gently pulled her hand away from her mouth and then pointed across the bookstore to the other rectangular table donning a white table cloth that was set up nearby the display table. There, you stood as you arranged your few items among more of those cardboard boxes that seemed to fill the clearing space in the bookstore. She followed his finger. 

“See, look! There’s Mommy. Wanna go give her the flowers?”

The little girl smiled up at him again bashfully and reached her tiny hand for his larger one with a whispered, “Okay.”

Lando stood up from the ground and let her wrap her hand around his pinky to lead the way across the clearing. Although he was walking at a calm pace, she was tugging at his finger at an attempt at a run, her little brunette curls bouncing as she ran messily across the carpeted floor towards your table, half struggling to see past the bouquet. 

“Mama!” she called. 

Instantly, her voice had you looking up from your cue cards and your anxious expression settled into a tender grin and you stepped around the table to greet her. Lando could always feel his heart absolutely soar every time he saw you and your little girl together…he just held so much love in his heart for the both of you that it was almost unreal. Like he had always once dreamt of, your baby was the spitting image of you and he loved every second of it; now he had two beautiful things to stare at until the end of time. He thought himself to be so, so lucky.

“Flowers, Mama.” your daughter announced excitedly, offering out the bouquet to you and almost dropping it in the process while you crouched right down in front of her. 

“Oh, thank you, buttercup.” you kissed her chubby cheek when you took the flowers. “These are my favourites. How’d you know?”

Lando gave your daughter’s hand a little tug, “What else did we want to say to Mommy?”

She looked up at him and then back at you with an angelic smile, offering you a simple “congratulations” that was horribly butchered by her two-year-old vocabulary and pronunciation, but it was the cutest thing you had ever heard nonetheless. 

“Oh my!” you beamed with pride and pulled her close for more kisses to her cheek, “Thank you so much, my sweet girl.” 

She wrapped her arms around your neck and you gladly took that as incentive to lift her up onto your hip, much to her glee. With a toddler in one arm and a bouquet of your favourite flowers in your other, you met Lando halfway for a quick kiss and a quiet thank you to him too. 

“Did you get the Sharpies?” you asked. 

He held up the small white shopping bag to show you before placing it on your table, “Yep. Of course. Got the biggest package they had too because I am expecting hundreds of people flooding in here tonight and I don’t want you running out.”

“Thank you.” you sighed in relief through a smile that formed at his compliment. 

He kissed you once more before you were interrupted by Charles’ friendly call,

“Quick picture!” 

The three of you turned your attention to him as he walked over with his trusty camera in hand - stolen back from Lily - and Lando slid over to your side so you were all facing him. Lando wrapped his arm around your waist and set his other hand sweetly around your daughter who was perched on your hip and he gave her a little tickle. 

“Say ‘cheese’!” 

The toddler pulled the biggest smile and shouted “cheese!” across the echoey bookstore as loud as her little lungs could allow. You all laughed lightly - even Charles - as the picture was taken.

Max came over to join your little group, Alex approving the post with a statement of, “Instagram worthy, I think.”

“Definitely.” you agreed. 

“You haven’t even seen the picture.” Charles countered.

“If you took it, I already know it’s great.” you shrugged, earning an agreeable nod from Max. 

Your well-trained daughter agreed easily, “Yeah!”

Alex and George joined you too, easily drawn by the adorable little girl on your hip whom they swooned over together. And, knowing his job well, Oscar also came over and took your flowers from you to tuck them away safely before the event, exchanging them for your cue cards without needing to be asked. Lando glanced over your shoulder at the cards that you had been pining over for multiple weeks to make your speech perfect; pulling late nights in bed spent writing by the light of your bedside lamp or scribbling out lines in the passenger seat of his car on the way to toddler swim class. 

“All set for your big speech?” Charles asked. 

You scoffed, “Way to ease my nerves there, Charlie.”

Lando’s hand rubbed over your back, “You’ve done plenty of these. You make them look easy.” 

“Well this is my first one without being in that contract so it feels a little weird being so free with what I’m allowed to say.” you admitted. Your daughter rested her head down on your shoulder with her arms around your neck and you set your cheek on top of her little head, finding comfort in her. 

Max offered you a half cocky smile, “And now you have a much cooler manager.”

“Of course.” you agreed, just to make him feel better although you were wholeheartedly telling the truth. He had always acted like your confidant and your big brother in the industry anyway so having him as your informal manager after you got yourself out of your previous contract only made sense. 

“Your first book release as an independent artist.” Oscar gushed, “That’s an accomplishment.” 

“And it’s an autobiography at that.” you chuckled, “That’s so weird. Who am I?”

Lando replied without missing a beat, “A multi-talented author, that’s who.”

You shared another quick kiss that Charles managed to snap a picture of. 

Your little girl reached a tiny hand out for your cards but you moved them just out of her reach, distracting her with a kiss to her cheek instead. You then looked to Lando with a quiet request, “I wanna sign one for you first…before the event starts.”

He smiled warmly at you, “Okay. Now?”

You nodded. 

Your friends dispersed as there were still things left to finish setting up before the event and Lando took the toddler from you to give you hands free to fish a crisp copy of your book out of one of the cardboard boxes beside your signing table and you sat yourself down in front of it. Your Sharpie was uncapped and you flipped the hardcover book open to the first page, pausing to glance up at Lando standing on the opposite side of the table with your daughter in his arms. They both stared back at you with matching small smiles and the little girl dipped her head into Lando’s neck for a cuddle all while keeping her eyes on you. 

It reminded you of the day you met him not that long ago; just a shy boy from Bristol who’s only true passion in life were the worlds you created in your pages. Only three years earlier he had stood on the other side of a table from you in another Waterstones, similarly to how he was now, both of you clueless at the time of what lay in store for you. Now, there he was holding your daughter you had together and the life you were paving together, watching you prepare for your book release party for your autobiography that contained chapters upon chapters with his name in them. 

Sharing a loving smile with the fanboy from Bristol who managed to weasel his way into your heart in the most genuine way, you took a second to think of what you wanted to write to him. You might have been a published author but sometimes it was hard to figure out how to put your feelings towards him into words. 

Finally, you set the tip of the fresh black Sharpie to the page and began to write in your neat, experienced printing:

“To my Lando, my biggest fan and my most treasured inspiration, always, …”

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[simplygojo]

I Like Your Tie...

A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.

Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish)

The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.

But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.

There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 

—

You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 

You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 

But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.

As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.

There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.

And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.

There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 

Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.

But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 

The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.

—

His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.

“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.

“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.

“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.

Your heart pounded in your chest. 

“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.

Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 

“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 

“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 

The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.

"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.

Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.

“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”

Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.

“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.

The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.

The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.

“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.

His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.

Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.

You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.

His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 

"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"

His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 

His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.

His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.

He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.

Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."

Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 

His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.

The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.

“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.

He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.

“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 

Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 

With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.

“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.

“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”

You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.

"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.

He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.

You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”

The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 

“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.

You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.

“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.

“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”

His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.

The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.

He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”

His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.

Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace

His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.

Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.

“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”

Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 

The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.

“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.

His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.

“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”

His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.

Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 

But he didn’t stop. 

Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.

Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”

Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 

"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.

“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"

You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.

Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”

With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.

"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."

He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 

His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 

“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 

Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”

[lilacbunnygirl]

bitch,uber to my d*ck

uber driver gojo x fem reader

➵ summary: after that “terrible” sex you had that night, you go to a bar. seeing you drunk until closing time, the bartender calls you an Uber. you never imagined the driver could be this sexy and straightforward. who knows, maybe after that “terrible” sex, he might give you a good one…

➵ warnings: this story contains +18 content (alcohol, car sex (reader on top), unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m receiving) ) so minors don’t interact!!

➵ author’s note: hello everyone! i was supposed to write the third chapter of “black cat luck”, but i’ve been very busy this week. yesterday, an idea came to me. why am i not writing about the uber driver gojo? I just thought it’ll be so fun and dirty to write! i hope you’ll like it. i’ll also share this story on ao3, so if you like to support me, my account is here. and lastly i have no hatred for turtles, and i never will! you’ll understand what i mean once you read the story. sending love to everyone <333 lilacbunnygirl

➵ word count: 4.791

You definitely shouldn’t have drunk this much tonight. It was already Monday, and you had a very important presentation. Working in an advertising company was a highly stressful job. Convincing the client to like your ideas and then landing the job was a feeling you had never experienced before. But this time, everything was going to be different. During the brainstorming meeting, your project director loved the slogan you came up with for crackers and wanted you to handle the presentation.

“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”

You never understood why he liked it. In fact, it could easily be seen as quite suggestive. It sounded like, instead of crackers, a penis came to mind. But of course, this wasn’t a fake penis ad… Still, it seemed like a memorable slogan.

Right now, you should have been home, asleep. It was 2 a.m. You were going to get up in about 5 hours to go to work. But after that “stress-relieving sex before a presentation,” you definitely needed a drink. Or maybe a few…

You thought it was a good idea to relax by having sex the day before the presentation. Let go of all the stress and just focus on pleasure… After a long time, you re-downloaded Tinder and matched with a guy who seemed really attractive. What both of you wanted was clear. A hot night. You started getting ready 4 hours before the date. You took a shower. Shaved your legs and bikini area. You even exfoliated to make your skin soft. Afterward, you poured yourself some white wine, turned on your music to set the mood, and began preparing. Nothing could ruin your mood today. After the final touches on your makeup, you looked in the mirror. You really looked “fuckable.”

When you arrived at the meeting place, the guy greeted you very well. A delicious meal, light touches, and wine had already put you both in the mood for sex.

Of course, that was until you got into bed…

With those memories, you hit your drunk head against the bar counter again. You thought to yourself, “Goddamn it.” You had bad sex experiences before, but this one… was so bad that it was beyond words.

None of the places he kissed, touched, or licked managed to get you wet. Maybe the part where he fingered you (or we can say tried to) wasn’t too bad, but the moment he entered you, the pain you felt and his weird groaning sounds confirmed that today was going to be awful.

Who the hell groaned like a turtle? You had nothing against turtles. But hearing those noises from the person in front of you completely killed your libido. Sure, turtles groaning during sex was cute and funny, but the person in front of you wasn’t a turtle.

You banged your head on the counter again and sighed. Realizing there was only a drop of your drink left, you raised your head and downed the last of it. Then you looked at the bartender, whose vision was debatable due to your drunken state.

“Hey! You were supposed to stop me after my third drink.”

The bartender, as he put down the glass he was cleaning, replied, “My job is to serve drinks, not stop you from drinking.”

You frowned and said, “I thought they helped in the movies.”

The bartender grinned. “Exactly, because they’re movies. Also, if you’re going to throw up, please don’t do it on the counter. We’re closing soon, and I don’t want to go home late because of cleaning the bar table. The bathroom’s right there.”

You looked in the direction he pointed, but since you were so drunk, everything looked like it was swaying.

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t feel sick, I just drank wayyyy too much. At home, 2 glasses of wine, at the date 2 glasses, and when I got here…” You tried to count how much you’d drunk on your fingers, but the bartender answered for you, “Six. Six glasses of whiskey. My god, how are you still alive?”

“Don’t worry, after everything I went through today, I really needed it.”

“I probably shouldn’t ask, but… did you have a bad date?”

You steadied your spinning head with your hand propped on the counter. “The worst. I mean, everything started out great. But when we got to the part we both wanted the most… POOF, the whole vibe was gone.”

The bartender laughed at your story and said, “Hmm. So it was bad sex i guess.”

You slammed your hand on the counter and said, “Oh my god, the worst. For the first time in my life, I had sex with a turtle…”

The bartender looked at you in shock after your last words. “Okay! Maybe I really should have stopped you after that third drink.”

“I’m serious! He was like a turtle. Ugh, no, I think I’m going to cry. I just wanted to relax before my big presentation. A good night of sex, some hot moments… You know, a nice way to release the stress. But the only thing today has left me with is being too drunk. Oh, and turtle trauma.” After finishing your story, you rested your head back on the counter.

“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you about my pet turtle, Dorothy.”

You quickly lifted your head off the counter. “NO, PLEASE DON’T!”

The bartender laughed while cleaning more glasses. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But a little advice for you: you really shouldn’t be drunk the night before a presentation, beautiful. It’s almost 3 a.m. and you should be sleeping in your bed right now, not sitting here talking about turtle man you had sex with.”

Whether it was the bad experience or the alcohol, the bartender’s words had suddenly turned you on. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but everything you’re saying is making me want to fuck you even more. Please call me ‘beautiful ’ again.”

The bartender laughed genuinely as he hung the clean glasses on the bar rack. “Alright then, I’ll be honest. I would definitely love to fuck you, beautiful. But not while you’re in this state. I don’t know what happened today with that turtle guy, but if I had been in his place, I wouldn’t have stopped until you’d come at least five times, with my tongue deep inside you to help you forget all the stress.”

Every word he said made your eyes widen even more. Holy shit, you were really wet now. And the bartender had managed that without even touching you.

“I… I think I’m wet.”

A sweet smile appeared on the bartender’s face. “Remember when I showed you the bathroom, darling?” You nodded your head in agreement. You didn’t actually remember, but you’d figure it out somehow. “Alright, do you think you can go on your own? Wash your face and try to pull yourself together. I’ve got a few more glasses to clean up over here. After that, I can call a cab to get you home.”

You nodded again, and despite wobbling a bit, you managed to make it to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on your face, you felt a little better. Even though you wanted him to make you come 5 times with his mouth, right now wasn’t the time. When you got back, the bartender had finished his work and was waiting for you at the front of the bar, holding your coat and bag.

“Welcome back! Feeling better?”

“Yes. But my head is still spinning. Could I give you my phone to call an Uber? I don’t think I can manage to enter the address myself.”

The bartender helped you into your coat and took your phone. He asked for your address. After stuttering a little, you finally told him, and he typed it in.

“Alright, it’ll be here in five minutes. Do you want to step outside for some fresh air?”

“Please…”

He supported you as you walked toward the exit. About seven minutes later, a black car pulled up in front of the bar. Once you realized it was your ride, you turned to the bartender and said, “Thanks for everything.”

The bartender gave you a sweet smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop you after your third drink, beautiful.” He planted a soft kiss on your cheek and said, “Take care, and by the way, my name’s Choso.”

Damn… if only I weren’t so drunk, you thought to yourself before waving goodbye and getting into the car.

After getting in, the driver started the car and began driving towards your house.

“Seems like someone can’t leave their lover behind,” the driver said.

You lifted your head and looked at him. With nearly white hair and sunglasses worn for no apparent reason at this hour he didn’t exactly exude reliability.

“I wish he were my boyfriend. But he just helped me pull myself together. Why do bartenders have to be so handsome?”

“Hmm… he really sounds like a gentleman. So, may I ask why you’re this drunk, sweetheart?”

“I had sex with turtle man.”

The driver let out a loud laugh, as if he hadn’t heard something so funny in a long time. “Oh, sounds fun. But you don’t seem too happy about it.”

Sighing, you replied, “When he couldn’t get me wet no matter what he did, and then started moaning like a mating turtle… yeah, I guess I wasn’t too happy.”

The driver spoke excitedly, “OH MY GOD, I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING AS FUNNY AS MOANING TURTLES!” But then, seeing your unhappy face through the rearview mirror, he added, “Of course, that’s just for turtles. If someone I was fucking made that noise, I’d be upset too.”

“Forget it. At least I have a funny story to tell people. I just… really needed to relax before my big presentation tomorrow, but everything got ruined.”

A sly grin appeared on the driver’s face after what you said. “You should’ve tried hooking up with the bartender.”

You quickly shifted your gaze from the road to the rearview mirror. The driver’s mischievous smile was awakening strange feelings inside you. Damn, could someone’s smile be that attractive? And why were you getting turned on so easily? First the bartender, now the driver…

“Actually, he said he wanted to sleep with me, but not in this state.”

“How unfortunate… because I would’ve definitely pinned you to the bar table and screwed you without caring if you were drunk or not, sweetheart.”

Wait… what?

“Excuse me?”

The driver laughed, “What? Weren’t you the one who wanted to relax?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then like I said, I would’ve fucked you so well, you’d have no strength left to go to work.” After stopping at a red light, the driver turned to look at you. “Want to give it a try?”

“Am I in a porno right now, or are you seriously saying this? Damn it, I shouldn’t have had six drinks!”

With a cocky smirk, he said, "Oh, trust me, this isn't a porno, sweetheart. Right now, alll want is to take you to an empty, quiet parking lot just eight minutes away and fuck you until you're screaming my name." As the light turned green, the driver started moving again.

You sat in the back seat, completely shocked and unsure of how to react, but a part of you was tempted to accept his offer. You'd never gotten a proposal like his from an Uber driver before. Why would you? How did you even end up with this guy as your driver?

You closed your eyes and imagined yourself with the driver. He didn't look bad, and you didn't think he could be worse in bed than the turtle man. On the contrary, he seemed like someone who knew exactly which buttons to push on your body.

"Alright."

"Huh? What did you say?"

"You've got five minutes to get me to that parking lot and fuck me, driver."

His soft laughter filled the car. "As you wish, ma'am."

He made a sharp turn, pulling an illegal U-turn, and sped toward the parking lot. Not exactly one for following rules, you thought. What else could you expect from a guy who makes inappropriate propositions to his drunk passengers?

He had arrived at the parking lot, which he had mentioned would take eight minutes, in almost half the time. The place was eerily quiet, with not even a security guard in sight. Why the hell had you agreed to this? He was definitely a serial killer. As your worries began to escalate, the driver parked the car, pulled the handbrake, and quickly got out, slamming the door shut. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him walk around to your side of the car.

This was it. You were going to die without ever seeing your cheesy, filthy slogan on a billboard.

He opened the door beside you and cupped your face in his hands, gently stroking your skin as he bit his lip. That lip bite alone was enough to make your underwear damp. Leaning closer to your ear, he whispered, “I hope you'll enjoy the ride, ma’am.”

When he brought his face back to yours, you saw the smirk on his lips. Just as you were about to respond, his lips captured yours.

At first, his kiss was soft, exploring your lips, but the moment he brought his tongue into play, everything became wild. His tongue seemed desperate to explore every inch of your mouth, driving you insane. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss as you leaned back on the rear seat, bringing him on top of you. He moaned into your mouth at the shift. His lips left yours, trailing down to your chin, which he licked and bit softly.

“Fuck, you’re so soft I could kiss you forever…”

You moaned in response. When his lips finally reached your neck, you felt like you might pass out.

This was what you wanted. Someone who knew how to drive you crazy with every touch.

He kissed and licked every inch of your neck. “Do you like it, sweetheart? Please, let me mark you… I need to claim you.”

“Ahh…you don’t even need to ask.”

The moment you gave him permission, he sank his teeth into your delicate skin and sucked hard.

“Ahhh…fuck, please…more.”

You felt his smirk against your skin. He pulled back just for a second to remove his sunglasses, and for the first time in your life, you saw the most piercing blue eyes. You stared at him, shocked.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes…” You had no idea what else to say. You didn’t think you’d ever seen someone this sexy.

“Most women say the same thing.” He leaned back down to kiss your lips again.

He hadn’t lost an ounce of his hunger, kissing you just as passionately as before. His hands found the straps of your dress, and he slowly slid them down. When he lowered his head to look at your bare breasts, a low growl escaped his throat.

“From the moment I saw you through the car window, I wanted to put these in my mouth so badly…” One of his hands cupped your right breast, squeezing it gently. When his fingers pinched your nipple, you couldn’t help but moan. He buried his face in your neck again, his hand still teasing your sensitive nipple.

“God… please, I need you to suck them…”

Kissing his way down to your chest, he looked up at you with those bright blue eyes. “Satoru. My name is Satoru. Say my name, sweetheart. I want to hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours while I suck on your nipples.” Without another word, he latched onto your left breast. First he kissed the soft skin around it then teasing your nipple with his tongue, while his hand played with the other breast.

“Satoru…ohhh…mhmm.”

The moment you moaned his name, he took your nipple into his mouth.

“FUCK…GOD…”

He bit and tugged at it, licked and teased, giving you sensations you never imagined possible. After a while, he pulled back, panting, and looked at your breasts. “Pink, round, and so soft…” He gave another teasing lick to your left breast. “My favorite…”

When he finished with your left breast, he quickly moved to the right, giving it the same attention. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his face closer, letting him know you wanted more.

“Please suck harder…they need to be bitten and sucked harder.” He obeyed, sucking harder. You knew if he continued, you’d orgasm from just this. You never thought it was possible to come just from having your breasts sucked on.

Satoru pulled back, gasping for air, and quickly pulled up the hem of your dress. When he saw the black lace thong, he looked like he might lose his mind.

“You’ll need to lean back a little, sweetheart. I need room to eat your pussy.”

Hearing his raspy voice, you sat up and leaned back against the car door. You were starting to sober up a little.

Once he had the space to move, he started kissing your inner thighs. He bit and sucked every spot he kissed. You moaned softly, wanted him to give you more hickeys.

“You need me to mark you so badly, don’t you sweetheart? Tell me, did that guy ever bite you like this?”

“Ugh…ha…no..” Your voice was weak. Satoru bit your right thigh hard enough to nearly break the skin. Then he said, “Louder, I can’t hear you!”

“OHH…NO…THEY DIDN’T…GOD PLEASE…LICK MY PUSSY, SATORU!”

He licked the spot he’d just bitten and looked at you with that signature smirk. “As you wish ma'am. My passenger’s comfort is always my priority.”

At first, he placed soft, wet kisses on your thong. Each kiss nearly sent you over the edge. He was driving you wild.

“SATORU, IF YOU DON’T PUT YOUR TONGUE IN- OHHH…YES YES, RIGHT THERE….!”

Before you could finish speaking, he had already pushed your thong aside and started running his tongue over your folds. “Be patient. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart. Just focus on feeling good.”

You did as he said, squirming as his tongue worked away all your tension. He licked every inch of your inner walls and sucked your clit clammily every time he reached it.

“Satoru…there…right there…”

“Here?” SLURP. SLURP.SLURP

“MMMFFP…OH YES YES, SATORU, KEEP SUCKING…”

“I could do this forever, sweetheart. You’re so wet, my mouth is covered in your juices.” His words, combined with the friction from his mouth, were driving you crazy. Without a warning, he shoved two fingers inside you.

"AGH- SATORU...IT HURTS!"

"You're so tight.. I don't know how you're going to take my cock. But l'Il do my best to help you, sweetheart. Now tell me, how many times have you fucked before?"

"Ohh...not many...ughh..faster..."

"By the time l'm done with you, this moment will be unforgettable. No matter who you date or marry, you'll always think of me. AGGH..ONLY. ME. ONLY...fuck.."

"SATORU, I'M SO CLOSE..."

"That stupid bartender could never do this to you. NEVER. Your walls will never grip him the way they're gripping my fingers. CUM ON MY FINGERS, SWEETHEART... I WANT EVERY DROP!"

"OHHH..GOD!"

He pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, feeling your walls tighten around them. When he saw the liquid spill from you, he immediately put his mouth on you and drank every last drop. Fuck. You'd never seen any man get this excited about making you cum. Every guy you'd been with before had only gone down on you to get you off, but Satoru... it was like this was his life's purpose. Every second seemed to make him the happiest man alive.

You were so aroused by the situation that you lifted Satoru’s face, who was still licking you, and made him look at you. His mouth was completely covered in your juices, and his eyes were half closed in pleasure. Pulling his face closer, you wanted to taste yourself from his lips.

“Hmphh… Satoru, lean back on the seat.”

Like a soldier following orders, he moved to sit in the middle of the back seat. As he leaned back, he pulled you onto his lap, guiding you on top of him. As your lips began exploring his neck, you asked, “Do you want me to bite?”

“Please…” he replied, his voice hoarse with approval, and without wasting any time, you began biting and sucking on his neck.

“Have you ever done something like this with another passenger before?” you asked, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as his hot breath hit your neck.

“Ugh… no. But some have wanted it.”

You could swear a smug grin appeared on your face. A sudden wave of jealousy surged inside you, and you pulled your head back to look at his face. Just as you thought, he was smiling…

“Good. I’ve got a little gift for you to make sure you never forget this moment, Satoru…”

As your hands found his bulge, Satoru moaned loudly. “Ahh… I always love gifts, darling.”

There was enough room for you to lean down. You slid off his lap, positioning yourself lower. Kneeling before him, you planted a soft kiss on his manhood through his pants.

“Ugh… I guess it’s my turn to have a comfortable ride…”

You gave him a lustful smirk. With a swift motion, you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. When you pulled down both his pants and boxers…

Oh… okay, it was really big.

Your eyes widened at the sight. Seeing your reaction, Satoru teased, “HAHAHAHA. Did I scare you, darling?” His tone was challenging.

“Never.” Your firm response was followed by your hands wrapping around his cock, stroking it lightly, which was enough to make him curse. After a bit more stroking, you slowly licked the tip of his cock with your tongue.

“FUCK… PLEASE…”

“Be patient, Satoru.” You echoed his earlier words back to him, and without wasting any time, you took his big, thick cock into your mouth.

FUCK.

Satoru’s hands found your hair, helping you maintain a steady rhythm. Inside the car, the only sound was you gagging. Sucking his cock was turning you on so much that you wanted more. You wanted to take it all in.

“STORRO… MO… MORROO”

“Hm, what did you say… Ugh, sweetheart, yes, yes… DO YOU WANT MORE, HUH? TAKE IT!”

When his hands pushed your head down to take all of his cock in your mouth, the tears that had been building up finally spilled.

“JUST LIKE THAT… EVERY TIME YOU FEEL THAT SORENESS IN YOUR THROAT TOMORROW, REMEMBER WHO FUCKED IT, SWEETHEART… UGH YES YES…”

Even though you were choking and gagging, you didn’t want to stop. Even though your throat was getting raw, you didn’t care. All you wanted was to satisfy him, to taste how sweet his cum would be when he finished in your mouth.

“Baby… I’m so… so close… Fuck… fuck… just a bit more…”

You held on. With all your strength, you waited for him to come in your mouth.

“OUHHHH… FUCKKK….”

As his white fluid filled your mouth, you moaned and tried to swallow it all. It came so fast and uncontrollably that some even dribbled out of your mouth. Slowly pulling away, you planted another kiss on the tip of his cock before climbing back onto his lap.

Satoru was completely spent. His head fell back, his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were closed. You kissed him softly on the lips. “Hmm… I think that was the best thing I’ve eaten today.”

He opened his eyes and chuckled lightly. He licked the cum that had dripped from your mouth down to your neck. “Trust me, sweetheart, nothing tastes as sweet as you. Now… are you ready for the main ride?”

“But you just came…?”

He stroked your face with his left hand. “Ah, for you, I’m always ready, sweetheart.”

You were shocked to feel his cock still hard beneath you. How could he be ready for another round just two minutes after coming? Was this man a god or something?

While you wrestled with your thoughts, he roughly pulled down your thong, tearing it in the process. “AGGH HEY! That was my favorite thong!”

Raising an eyebrow, he replied, “Do you think I care, sweetheart?”

“You should.”

“Oh. Too bad because the only thing I care about is getting inside that tight, warm pussy of yours.” As he lifted you slightly and aligned himself with your entrance, a thought crossed your mind. “Satoru, wait! The condom—OH MY GOD, SATORU…”

Before you could finish your sentence, he thrust into you hard. His large hands gripped your waist, bouncing you up and down on him.

“Ughh… fuck… you’re so tight… I could come again immediately…”

“Satoru… oh god… all this time, I’ve been using Uber, and you show up now? I must’ve seen you before… ughh”

“Believe me, darling, if I had seen you before… -SMACK-… I would have made this offer… -SMACK-… then too.”

Burying your face in Satoru’s neck, you let him take control. He was slamming into you with all his strength. When you bit his neck to stifle your moans, Satoru suddenly stopped.

“Why… why did you stop?”

“If you try to hide your moans again, I’ll take you home without finishing.” His threatening words were followed by him lifting your hips slightly before continuing to thrust into you.

“Ohhh… Satoru… harder, please…”

As he pounded into you harder, you arched your back, wanting to feel the pleasure even more. Your hands clutched at Satoru’s chest. Seeing your breasts bouncing as you moved, Satoru leaned forward and began sucking on them while still fucking you.

Your hands instinctively found his head. You pressed his head into your breasts, not wanting him to pull away. At the same time, you moved your hips, making sure his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust.

“Satoru… I’m about to come… ohhh… please…”

“Hold on a bit longer, baby… you can’t come until I say so.”

He pulled away from your breasts, and your eyes locked. You were overwhelmed by all your emotions. You didn’t think you’d ever experience something like this again.

“Baby… I’m so close AGHHH…”

“SATORU…. FUCK…”

With Satoru’s words, you let go of the orgasm you had been trying to hold back. As the pleasure surged through your body, you felt Satoru release inside you. The warmth filling your pussy was indescribable…

As Satoru leaned back in exhaustion, he pulled you on top of him. Resting your head on his chest, you tried to steady your breathing while a slogan you’d come up with for a cracker ad popped into your head.

“Now I understand more clearly what it means to never get enough…”

Satoru laughed. “Women usually can’t get enough of my cock.”

“Asshole... You might’ve actually rocked my world.”

He kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.”

Closing your eyes, you rested a bit longer on Satoru’s chest.

Ten minutes later, as if nothing had happened, you both left the deserted parking lot and headed to your home. You were completely sober now, and there wasn’t a trace of stress left about the presentation. But you might have developed a new addiction: your late night Uber driver…

“Well, is it too late to ask what you do for a living?”

You laughed at Satoru’s question. “Maybe just a bit… I’m in the creative department at an ad agency. My department head liked the slogan I came up with for a cracker ad, so he asked me to present it at meeting on Monday. Which means today...”

“Oh, I love crackers! So, what’s the slogan?”

“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”

“HAHAHA. I like it, it’s catchy and a little… naughty.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you replied, “Yeah, I know…”

The rest of the ride was quiet. When you arrived in front of your house, Satoru stopped the car. Your handsome driver turned to you. “Well, I hope your journey was pleasant and safe, ma'am. Don’t forget to leave a rating, please!”

“You can be sure I’ll give you five stars, driver. Thanks for the ride.” You leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips before stepping out of the car.

Satoru didn’t leave until you were inside your apartment. As he remembered the slogan you had shared earlier, he threw his head back and let out a deep laugh.

“God… after today, I don’t think I could ever get enough of you…”

(satoru gojo art by @narutoss_ramen on x)

@lilacbunnygirl don't copy or translate my works.

[ofmdrecaps]

09/20/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Call To Action: David Jenkins; Samba Schutte; Con O'Neill; Hugo Pierre Martin; How To Help; Other Cast & Crew Sightings: Rhys Darby; Rosie Carnahan Darby; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Leslie Jones; Guz Khan; Damien Gerard; Kristian Nairn; Hugo Pierre Martin;

Well folks. It sure is wonderful to be honking loudly with you again! (Clown or Goose, however you prefer to consider it!). This morning, David Jenkins started us all off with a very specific tweet that set off a chain reaction!

= David Jenkins =

It APPEARS that David is telling us, the fans, that OFMD is "available", and that Netflix is the streaming service to woo. Now, does that mean it's just being bought and streamed? Or perhaps being picked up by a Season 3? There has been some discussion that Netflix sometimes likes to stream a cancelled show before they greenlight another season-- and well, who knows, maybe that's what OFMD is in line for!

Source: David Jenkins' Instagram

= Samba Schutte =

Then a little later in the day... Samba started us up with a new #, #supnetflix!

Source: Samba's Instagram

= Con O'Neill =

Con joined in on the sharing!

Source: Con's Instagram Stories

= Hugo Pierre Martin =

Our "one-line" friend, Hugo Pierre Martin is back at it! He's supporting OFMD in every way he can!

Source: Hugo's Twitter / 2

The fans took David and the Crew's call to action by starting up a tweet storm! Our friends over at @adoptourcrew also kept the momentum going by putting up prompts!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

Some of our crewmates reminded us, and Netflix, we had the numbers :)

Source: Florence aka single_cat_mom on Twitter!

As of the time this post was put together, the trends got up to the following! Thank you to APurplePatch on Twitter for captureing them!

Source: APurplePatch Twitter

And a little schadenfreude for today's festivities! Thank you Ashley!

Source: Ashley aka Seven_Sugars on Twitter

Well there we are-- great job today crew! Sure is feeling good in the fandom today! If we can, let's keep the momentum up through tomorrow! Are you excited about the possibility of an s3? Well, feel free to join in the manifestations from our friend @xray-vex!

Source: Xray_Vex Twitter

== How To Help ==

I can't believe I'm saying this again-- but hey! Wanna help out with the renewal (or at least selling OFMD) effort? Please consider some of the following!

Sign the Petition if you haven't already! (Change.org DOES clear out non-confirmed via email signatures every once in a while, so be sure to check your email.)

Request Our Flag Means Death on the Netflix form!

If you're interacting with social media, use these hashtags: #OurFlagMeansDeath #supnetflix #AdoptOurCrew #SaveOFMD

== Other Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

New Bill Napier Weather Update from Rhys today on his Substack! There was even a shout out to some of our crewmembers you might recognize! Give it a listen!

Source: Rhys' Substack

= Rosie =

More Kitten Content from the Darby Household! (why yes, I will use my one movie allowed per tumblr post to add kitten content, I regret nothing).

Source: Rosie Carnahan Darby's Instagram

= Taika Waititi =

Taika's back to his "influencer" phase again!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Taika Waititi (@taikawaititi)

Source: Taika's Instagram

= Damien Gerard =

Damien's finally getting to get some relief! Congrats sir!

Source: Damien's Instagram

= Kristian Nairn =

Kristian catching up with one of his old co-stars, Issac Wright!

Source: Kristian Nairn Instagram

= Samba Schutte =

I realized I shared Samba's pics last time, but didn't say much about the new campaign! Samba's new Shop Stands campaign is benefiting the LA Regional Food Bank! First up, you can get a hoodie version of the Crew For Life T-Shirt! - Crew For Life Hoodie

Next up-- Samba is back with another cooking class! This time it's Death By Cheese! Death By Cheese Class

EVENT DATE: NOVEMBER 9 EVENT TIME: 10AM PT/1PM ET EVENT LOCATION: ONLINE

Source: Shop Stands

= Guz Khan =

New season of Man From Mobeen! Not sure if there's a date yet...but looks like Guz is sharing some pics!

Source: Guz Khan's Instagram

= Leslie Jones =

Leslie was on the Jennifer Hudson Show a couple days back!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The Jennifer Hudson Show (@jenniferhudsonshow)

Source: Jennifer Hudson's Instagram

= Hugo Pierre Martin =

In case you haven't heard, Hugo is doing a Spotify Audio Series! Wanna check it out? Visit: Spotify

Source: Hugo's Twitter

== Articles ==

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Alright, lovelies. I have so many things to say and yet no stamina to do so. I'll try to pick up tomorrow-- I just wanted to send this your way, I hope you find the ones who make you feel like you're basking in warmth and love, like the sun.

Source: StayCloseToYourself_ Instagram

[outrunningthedark]

I dont think he needs to come out defending Lou - Lou can handle himself he’s a grown man and has taken ( I think at least) the best course of action (stay silent until the season starts back up again). However I do have a lot of mutuals who are queer men who feel little hurt by the lack of acknowledgement for this queer relationship. Like getting excited that your favourite show has a relationship that you feel represented (just like with Michael and David) only to have silence from the social media team and the actors (well we clearly know why Lou is currently silent -when he was active he did talk Beautifully about them) can be hurtful. I don’t know if this makes any sense at all. But I did find it a bit odd ( and this is not me assuming malicious intent - I like to give the benefit of the doubt) some of the patterns I’ve seen. At the end of the day everyone is free to do whatever they want - while at the same time fans can feel how they want to feel. I understand both perspectives.

I don’t know if any of this makes sense -it got away from me as I was writing 😂

I know what you're saying, and I agree. I think people are (I assume unintentionally) lumping calling out bad behavior and acknowledging the canon relationship together as the same course of action, but...it's not. (I mean, from what I saw of the reaction to my post there was a lot of hand-waving for why Oliver's "doing the right thing" because fandom is out of control.) I don't think Oliver needs to "defend" Lou or even Tommy as a character. (He didn't defend any of the women on the show until they were gone so why start now, honestly.) But there IS a way to take a stand without even saying anything, isn't there? Post a story. Post a pic. Share a fan edit. Captions not needed. The content would speak for itself. He's not staying silent because he hates the story line - sorry Buddies! - because he definitely knew that if the GA reaction went well BuckTommy was going to continue past those four episodes. He's staying silent because he lets these people behind a screen get in his head and make him feel like he has to walk on eggshells while "interacting with fandom". And listen, we all get it! He's gotta do what he's gotta do to protect his mental health! But you can acknowledge his feelings without dismissing the feelings of the queer fans who are only seeing a guy essentially do a 180 because public pressure is too high. How is he "representing" anybody if he doesn't even celebrate the story he's telling? [There's a quick-fix to all of this, btw. Get a fucking social media manager to do the posting so he doesn't have to see any of this shit with his own eyes if it's gonna drag him down that much.]

[mooncello]

Hi friends. I posted chapter 5 of more than a footnote last Sunday. It's over on ao3.

I'm working through some beats for chapter 6. Unlike some of you magnificent plotters, I hate outlines. They feel constricting to me. And the story shifts and evolves as I write. Characters reveal stuff to me as we spend more time together, and sometimes that necessitates plot changes or deeper subplots. It's also my greedy curious distractable brain. Like: Oh, but what if this happens? What if he did this instead? Truly, squirrel brain. But y'know those lil bushy-tailed fuckers can unintentionally plant oak trees so ... I will follow those acorn trails and play with a new thought or question, even if it wasn't originally plotted, to see whether it has a place in the story. It's kinda like having an ongoing conversation with the story as it's being written. It's humbling af and takes twice as long, I'm sure, than if I wrote an outline and stuck with it. But I've tried the detailed plotting thing, and it just doesn't work for me.

So I don't have anything from chapter 6 to share just yet. But I do have something else. It almost feels like a tease, because I don't know when I'll actually sit down and write the rest of this fic, but I finally figured out what direction lost boys is going. (Sometimes you follow the squirrel, and sometimes you let a story rest to see what emerges from quiet stasis.) I'm excited about it again. Which feels amazing. Here are way more than six sentences from chapter 3, Baz POV:

“How old were you,” I ask softly, “when you first came here?” “Eight.” He switches his hands behind his head and moves his shoulder blades against the earth, like he’s trying to get more comfortable. I have a sudden bolt of reckless courage. “Here,” I say and sit up fully. I scoot closer, angle my body, and wrap my palm around the curve of his head. Thankfully, he understands what I’m communicating and shifts until his head is resting in my lap. I suddenly find Simon staring directly up at me. An easy smile slopes across his face. “Hey,” he says. “Hi.”  I feel my own mouth stretch into a responding smile. There’s a delightful tumble of butterflies in my stomach. Without giving it any thought, my fingers thread through his hair, nails skimming his skull and then pulling away with curls between knuckles. The slightest of tugs. Release. Then I repeat the sequence over and over again. Simon melts against my thigh, and his eyes flutter closed. A tiny, contented moan leaves him, and I grow momentarily dizzy because I did that. That sound was because of me. “Feel good?” I murmur. “Mmph.” I’m glad his eyes are closed and can’t see me smirking. I’m so goddamn pleased. And he looks incredible like this. Relaxed and untroubled, draped over my lap.

tags under the cut!

thank you for the tags today @monbons and @orange-peony

🩵 ✨@drowninginships @valeffelees @run-for-chamo-miles @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony

@youarenevertooold, @shrekgogurt, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @fatalfangirl

@cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @emeryhall, @raenestee

@iamamythologicalcreature, @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon, @best--dress, @rimeswithpurple

@ileadacharmedlife, @skeedelvee, @monbons, @j-nipper-95

@ic3-que3n, @theearlgreymage, @theimpossibledemon, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

@facewithoutheart, @larkral, @messofthejess

[bullet-prooflove]

Now I’m runnin’ with my dress unbuttoned

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @yousigned-upforthis @queenslandlover-93 @hal3ynicol3

Companion piece to:

Romantic Shit - Ryan and you talk about Texas.

You’re running through a field in Texas, barefoot with your dress unbuttoned as Ryan chases after you. You’ve played this game before you and him, and you always give him a run for his money because your husband, he enjoys the thrill of the chase.

It’s been three months since you last saw him back in Montana, since he kissed you goodbye on the porch of the cottage you share before he made the trip to Texas with the rest of his cowboys. He’s sent a few postcards during the time apart, called as often as he could but there’s no signal out here on the pastures so he’s relegated to snatching a few minutes during the supply runs they make to town. You knew what you were getting into when you married him, he knew what he was getting into when he married you too.

The grass shifts as your hair whips in the wind behind you, you can hear Ryan’s footsteps, the laughter in his voice as he calls out for you. His arm wraps around your waist, hauling you down into the wildflowers along with him. The two of you tumble together until Ryan’s body covers you, his hat lost somewhere in the wilderness. His lips capture yours, your fingertips trailing over the dark hair at the nape of his neck. It’s gotten long since you were last with him, his stubble is now a beard that scratches across your jaw as his heated lips chase down the hollow of your throat.

“Christ I’ve missed you.” He whispers against your skin as he continues his previous work of undoing the buttons of your dress. “You have no idea how much.”

Your hand snakes down between the two of you, squeezing him lightly through his jeans and Ryan arches into your hand.

“I have a feeling you’re about to show me.” You murmur into his ear as you begin to unfasten his belt, his hands are already guiding the dress from your body as he leans in close and whispers.

“Oh honey, what kinda husband would I be if I didn’t take care of my wife?”

Love Ryan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[hannahssimblr]

Mini break announcement

I feel this almost goes without saying, but now that I've finished part 3 of Lucky Boy I am going to take a short break to essentially create the Berlin world, including writing, building, making new characters etc.

I also have to update my game so! Fingers crossed that all goes well.

In the meantime, i'd love to hear from my followers about what you'd like to see from me during the gap. I have a lot of ideas already, but if anyone has something particular in mind, please let me know! Either comment or leave an ask or just message me, I don't mind.

It also doesn't have to be related to my story - I know there are people following me for other content, so if you'd like more of that in general, I can do it!

So what I'm thinking of as options so far are

content about the process of setting up the next part of the story

character analyses

directors commentary

sharing pose packs I've made (particularly the festival ones)

builds

Photoshop tutorials - particularly how to paint tears as I did in the past few parts of LB 2010. Other suggestions welcome!

Other tutorials - like writing/capturing romance for example, if this would be of interest

Edits

my process from writing to posting

summaries of the plot so far

So! Please don't be shy, even if it's to let me know which of these options is appealing

I'll make another post soon gauging opinions about what people want to see in my story going forward, what characters to revisit etc so watch this space I guess lmao

[byemambo]

Monster Next Door EP. 9: The Power of Expression - A Double Edge Sword

So it's been awhile since I posted any content of my own for MND, but this episode genuinely got me in the feels. I am curious whether or not there are lots of people tuning into the series because I feel like its promotion leans very playful and I'm sure for some, leaving very little room for there to break the confines of stereotypes surrounding MBTI and introversion/extroversion. However, like how I personally feel about We Are, both series have more underlying themes for those who can recognize its significant beneath the surface.

Disclaimer: this analysis will lean into my own personal connection with the character Diew, and I'll be highlighting themes such as loss of a loved one, neurodivergence, and other underlying themes of mental health and trauma. If that's something that could possibly be triggering/sensitive for some, I would just like to preface before y'all begin reading and be bombarded with some deep topics. Alright, everything is under the cut (extremely lengthy read)!

Diew's Childhood: Reverting Back into His Shell

For those who have tuned into the series, we understand that Diew has a hyperfixation of turtles, and we're sent back to a flashback montage to reveal more about his upbringing and family dynamic during childhood. We're also revealed more about Diew's connection with his father before he passed away, which low and behold: me and Diew share very similar stories as I've also lost my dad during childhood, which caused a lot of strain between me and my own mother just the same as Diew (for similar and different reasons in comparison). I might have not caught it trying to go back to find out the exact age Diew's father passed away, but the flashback gives us a rough estimation between his preteen-teenage years where a proper social relationship is established between the two.

When someone experiences traumatic events during critical developing years such as childhood and adolescence, many will remain rooted in those existing emotions and outsiders may view them for the "mental age" as our emotional growth becomes stunted. Because Diew had a close relationship between him and his father for all sorts of reasons that many people can relate to: having someone be your cheerleader, someone to introduce you to the world around us, someone to understand your own individualism and cater to it accordingly. However, I believe one of the biggest reasons for such a strong connection between Diew and his father is fairly simple: existing as the closest form of unconditional love.

Although the series hasn't stated it like The Rebound has, I personally believe Diew to be autistic, if not autistic, definitely someone of the neurodivergent experience. Even though the series revolves around the concept of MBTI, specifically categorizing Diew as your average introverted person navigating the world around him, I wholeheartedly believe his character is deeper than such a superficial label (which I believe is the main reason for why many might stray away from giving this series a chance). Even though I haven't been formally diagnosed with autism, I am diagnosed with ADHD as an adult while relating to various characteristics that are innate in autism, but many of these traits and experiences fall under the neurodivergent umbrella. I also think that the usage of the turtle archetype is incredibly powerful for the characterization of Diew: turtles are known by social norms as "slow," physically or mentally, "in their shell" aka shy/kept to themselves, and can be irritating to others because they're unaware of most "normal" social cues and are considerably lacking "common sense", etc.

In the opening sequence of the episode: we see the dynamic between Diew and his father, which as the episode progressed, we witness a conversation between the father and son about how books become doors to our own worlds that as I summarize: books become portals to our own worlds that make our ordinary lives extraordinary. Since the theme of the series is about next door neighbors meeting and falling in love with one another, I believe the relevance of Diew's love for books to be more significant than that: neurodivergent people tend to live in our own worlds.

In my experience which has developed into my own artistic branding: many of us live in a neurotypical world where we feel like an alien walking amongst other human beings, but we weren't given the travel guide or manual in understanding how to interact with them. Despite knowing that we're also living out the same human experience: nuance comes into play and for many, can hijack our lives for the worst. In Diew's circumstance as well as the average child: we are clean slates that deal with the concept of nature vs. nurture early on, as well as our environments playing critical roles in our personal development and how that development will in turn, affect how we interpret the world and engage with it.

Because Diew is a child who's quieter (in this case, not shy to interacting with others), this becomes a disruption in societal norms (which of course vary between culture to culture and other underlying intersectionalities based in race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, etc). For many neurodivergents, our engagement with the world around us breaks the pattern and mold of what society expects from each and every individual to maintain order. During childhood, most of us are our authentic versions of ourselves but hand ourselves over to the norms of society and its binaries. For many who learn from observation that their own silence and solitude is weaponized by those who adhere to the social norms, many teach themselves learned helplessness: what difference does it make if I were to speak up? It's not like anything would change because they still won't accept me for who I am.

I tend to speak in metaphors, but specific to my art background: while neurotypical society tends to interpret the world in grayscale, we tend to interpret the world in full color, as majority of us excel in pattern recognition and memory, are detail oriented, hypervigilant, and so much more. However, this experience can be overwhelming for many, which contributes to one's baseline in areas such as faulty social communication/interaction, sensory overload, mental dissonance, etc. We see this with Diew having a single close friend, wearing noise cancelling headphones to cut through sensory overload, having social anxiety during moments of being the center of attention or being asked to do things against his will and being reprimanded for honesty over "politeness."

Due to Diew's socialization and innate personality traits, his support system can act in one of two ways: acceptance or rejection/denial. Unfortunately, this is where the crossroad between his central support system begins: the desire to appease the social hierarchy of life and to come out on top, the selfishness of living life thorough the self interest of yourself or your family. To be the most recognized, the most well off, the most luxurious, the most successful, etc. For many parents that navigate the world with emotional immaturity, their priority lies in conformity over authenticity, their acceptance in changing themselves for the sake of appeasing the group. For them, nothing is more detrimental than being singled out and ridiculed/mocked: this insecurity becomes generational, this insecurity evolves into life-changing consequences such as hereditary mental health disabilities or the nurturing of one in a "normal" family. The toss up between acceptance versus denial sets itself in stone the moment moral value is assigned to one's character, when someone becomes of value based on the origin's value system.

This exchange between Diew's mother and father highlighted the moment Diew adheres to this moral belief: Diew is not like other kids. Well, what about me makes me not like other kids? In comes comparison, in comes self doubt, in comes perfectionism, in comes abnormality, in comes conflict, in comes all sorts of insecurities that take over the vulnerable: children who simply don't know any better because if mom and dad said so, it must be true, right? My parents can't be wrong about anything if it has to do with me? I am their child after all, I'm their blood, I'm the whole of two existing halves.

We have not received this context in the series, I could only put two and two together through my own lenses and what I know and experienced: the various trauma responses and coping mechanisms from each affected family member. Diew and social communication, Diew's mother and obsession with control, Diew's grandfather and undermining his physical health to maintain peace within their household. What becomes a reality check for most of us growing up as neurodivergent people: the moment we step outside of what we have been taught to believe, and finding out that we might have been wrong for most of our lives, that we've been living for all the wrong reasons. That we were living for others and not ourselves. That we cannot survive without the "care" of our loved ones: the same people who expect appraisal and worship while oppressing and undermining others in the same breath.

Intention vs. Principle: The Flaws of a Mind Reader

Although there were other moments in the previous episodes to strengthen the themes of this episode, I felt like the Phrae trip highlighted these reality checks once Diew has difficulty adjusting to God's boyfriend treatment, which is primarily acts of service. This also becomes a game of mind reading and taking away Diew's autonomy, another version of his mother and her severe control issues. The trip is another home away from home, where this behavior evolves into babying and coddling, but because the intent is out of their best wishes for Diew: damned if you do, damned if you don't becomes Diew's life motto which he slowly breaking away from after being introduced to new people in his life that showed him different experiences outside of his family and his ex boyfriend. That there are people who exist and accept him for him, that there's no reason to hide anymore.

What I appreciate throughout the scenes leading up to Diew's confrontation with God is how well Park portrays these moments of frustration and questioning God's integrity when it comes to verbal communication (his microexpressions are everything to me, saying so much with such subtlety). This is something that I have issues with as someone who describes herself as "open book," and find myself irritated whenever people are not straight forward about their intentions, or set expectations in one moment and abandon them at the drop of the hat. For us, because we tend to navigate the world with so much nuance, direct and clear communication is nonnegotiable, and if you have various mental health disabilities (I've checked into the game), the mental race to make connections and recognize the established pattern based on the evidence of prior engagements and experiences becomes instantaneous but also exhausting. But P'God had always known how to respect my boundaries...why is it changing? What made it change?

The café scene also highlighted Diew's hypervigilance, isolating the conversation between God and his friends. Because all of them tend to joke and speak with humorous undertones, social cues become incredibly difficult to decipher at times, especially with people who you haven't established expectations for communication with. Because God know his own friends but Diew does not at the same level of depth and experience, statements like these only invite more intrusive thoughts that continue to spiral as more stimuli piles on: God's friends and their lack of indoor voice in a quiet establishment, social cues pointing towards God botching the group's plans for "Diew's sake," inconsideration towards those occupying the same space and carrying themselves with entitlement, this scene stressed me out and I would have done the same as Diew in that moment. Because I'm being catered towards and everyone else is miserable because of it: I'm probably the problem then...because I'm not like other people and I'm difficult to understand and accompany. Honestly: this is why I shouldn't have come with them. I'm just burdening them.

Power of Communication: It Takes Two

This exchange not only went in the direction I was expecting it to go, but the resolve was incredibly sweet and heartwarming to me. Going back to the "damned if you do, damned if you don't" motto: what I find so special about Diew despite his superficial characteristics appearing "ungrateful" or "undeserving" to some is that his growth completely transforms the motto. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, but I'd be damned if I let this misunderstanding separate me from the person I love. What I appreciate about God on the receiving end was the navigation of this conversation and how both parties confront their innate ideologies and understanding. Diew prefaces the difficult conversation with praising God, not starting off the exchange with immediate criticism that would drive most insecure people away and tune out any revealing information afterwards. However, God allows Diew to finish his entire thought before proceeding with his response. which I anticipated as such: "I'm doing all of this for you and now you're saying you don't like any of it, so that makes me the bad guy then."

The beautiful moment that had me rooting for Diew was the confidence in standing his ground, something that we've seen develop in him as the story progresses during exchanges with people such as Jane and his mother. That he has autonomy, that he has a voice that is heard and accepted for what it is and not what it's "supposed" to be, that he can be understood because he may not be like other people, that was never the problem, which actually lies with everyone unwilling to become the person they need to be for him: that his boundaries may force you to reevaluate the way you carry yourself in this dynamic and no longer hold the power within your hands. The moment of recognizing that we become victims to the world by choice and the confinements of our own body and mind, and that the world may never truly reveal itself to those who deliberately choose ignorance over awareness: the choice of empowerment over oppression.

On the opposite side of this exchange, God goes through a revelation: the misstep in passive listening. Many people, especially those with faulty communication and emotionally perplexed, only engage in communication to hear what they want to hear. To identify within the confines of the binary: good vs. bad, like vs. dislike, yes vs. no. During the first half of the conversation of reassuring God with positive reinforcement, Diew softens the blow that will most likely arise: the potential of punishing someone else for doing a "good" thing. Insecurity feeds off of self identification, rooting itself as a core belief once someone turns that delusion into a false reality: the moment Diew says "I really don't like it" becomes that signal for confirmation bias to rush in. Win's prior qualms against him despite being in the same band, Jane antagonizing Diew while also putting God down in the process, and I'm sure so much more. If not properly dealt with and nipped at the bud: these intrusive thoughts become a breeding ground for toxicity to occur and cause a rift in the dynamic from an exchange of false words. But through his own personal development and growth: God was able to turn a not so pleasant moment into another piece of evidence that he is a safe space for Diew to unmask and keep the conversation true to himself. Rather than chasing Diew back inside his shell, he only invites Diew to continue remaining in his authentic self.

Emotional Dumping: The Arrival of Guilt and Shame

This part of the episode almost ran me over ten different times: it made me feel seen, it made me feel heard, it made me feel represented. All because I've literally had this exact same thing happen to me (and more) with my own mother, so this moment felt incredibly personal to me and understood Diew on a deeper level than most viewers might have not even considered when watching this series. When your family goes through a grief as difficult as the death of a parent, the drastic switch from a two parent household to a one parent household is absolutely devastating, especially when your children are young. Single parents if they choose to remain single stretch themselves thin, they are constantly overwhelmed with doing all they could and still unable to scratch the surface with many things, and unfortunately most of them trap themselves with egocentrism by comparing themselves to an alternative life unlived if their partner were still present. Most of them subscribe to a life filled with "debt" that requires repayment: this repayment is their kids believing in the narrative of being a burden, of being owed to repay back every little piece of ourselves to our parents, of being told that we cannot survive without their involvement (some even going as far as using the existence of their own children to support their entitlement for reparations), of simply existing to uplift their parent at the cost of their own autonomy and self worth.

"And I a bad son?" I don't think I could really describe the emotions I was experiencing when I witnessed this exchange of words, because I've had this conversation in my own life on multiple occasions verbatim. The headspace Diew occupies when it comes battling this internal struggle between being a "good" son while also expecting his mother to be a "good" mother, and the devastation that comes along with realizing that those two conditions may not actually exist. The progress Diew achieves from being someone who was intimidated by person to person interactions, someone who people benefited from his own silence and inability to confront others, someone who deep down deals with a battle of justifying his own value due to inconsistent value judgments from his core support system, brings me to tears because for many of us, myself included, deal with this level of trauma to the point where therapeutic intervention and personal accountability for debunking and redefining our core beliefs that have deeply planted themselves inside of us may be the only solution to properly negating all that we've known. That no matter what I do, I'll never be good enough, not even for my own mother.

God's response to this moment of being told such a personal matter (even if it was only the surface) honestly continues to heal parts of me little by little and living through Diew vicariously. The development of their relationship and taking the appropriate time to address various areas in their dynamic: some days will be baby steps, other days will be strides, on occasion full speed, every now and then there will be rain checks. But the one thing that will remain a constant: I'm willing to embark on this journey with you by my side.

Honorable Mention: There's No Place Like Home

Ok time to ACTUALLY go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight: thank you for those who made it down here, I bring cookies! 🍪 But on a more serious note: my ears are always open to feedback or any thoughts others might have. I appreciate MND for having this level of characterization for these two and I can't wait to see what else they'll get thrown into even better if Pee gets socked in the face by God but of course on Diew's terms. Alright good night <3

[nothinggold13]

Ok, trying to trick myself into treating @scripturient1998 like an active blog I actually use (aka trying to share more content there) so if you’re interested in my writing, that’s the place to be. :)

[kheyys-worms]

Mungkinkah, mungkinkah (Could it be, could it be) Mungkinkah kau mampir hari ini? (Could it be that you've stopped by today?) Bila tidak mirip kau (If it doesn't look like you) Jadilah bunga matahari (Then be a sunflower)(Gala Bunga Matahari - Sal Priadi)

Edit: made a little change to satan's sunflower

[sciderman]

How do you feel about the increase in really weird NSFW ads on here (advertising panels that look like sexual encounters, and AI art apps that pride themselves on porn) but will take down NSFW posts from their users, even if it isn't technically sexual.

i hate all social media and it's consistent prioritising the advertisers over the users and the internet simply was a better place before capitalism sunk its hooks into it

[spearxwind]

Oof I'm kinda scared to ask... Why do you not want to be an artist professionally?

Its just like, incredibly miserable in my experience.

Everyone wants their dream job of being paid to draw whatever the hell they want but 99% of the time you are hired and tasked to draw things that you don't have a lot of interest in, professionally speaking, and constantly getting your artistic efforts undermined by the rest of the team (this is esp. true in the videogame industry) artists always try to push for better designs and get their takes watered down for the sake of general public pleasing. Also you don't have a security blanket unless you're under long term contract. Most freelancers live gig to gig with the fear of not being able to support themselves if they don't take a job to take a break. Videogame and movie jobs arent stable because companies never keep the art teams, they are laid off and rehired whenever there is a new project

During my major, I drew nonstop for 4 years for class. Not always things I enjoyed, but also not always things I didnt like. In fact I enjoyed my major immensely! It was so fun. But the burnout is very, very real, and the workload was similar (even inferior to) regular art jobs. What happens if you like to draw in your off time? You spend your days making and pumping out art nonstop for hours, and then on your free time breaks you draw some more? I personally couldn't do it. I just wanted to do other things

And like.... I spent the first three years being told by teachers (people with stable, contract based jobs) how cool of a job it is to do art, and then the last year getting grilled on how insanely hard it is to make it out there. If you don't have connections, money, an audience, a studio, it's actually impossible. You need to be your own lawyer, abide by the very strict self employment rules that take a severe chunk out of your earnings. Do all of your finance/schedule/marketing etc while on top of that constantly producing work (I know there's people who can do it but, personally, I cannot) I really admire the people who were able to build themselves up as artists from the ground like this (because its definitely possible, just insanely hard)

Also, making something you love into your job ends up being miserable too. I experienced this with patreon, which I posted to as like a chill thing and it just got increasingly hard to make content for it or just post in general, even drawing my own ocs and sharing stuff about them started to feel like a chore.

Maybe it's just me though, this has just been my personal experience but yeah in general I realized I am immensely happier just keeping art as a hobby or its gonna suck my soul out (Since I already experienced it)

I don't mean to discourage anyone, I think the world in general needs more artists. But for that we would need to actually be taken seriously and valued, which sadly we are not, at all. And if there's anyone reading that is considering art as a job: it is absolutely grueling. It's not an easy job. Even if you desperately love art it can suck the life out of you and the joy for what you do

(As an extra sidenote. Artists are usually exploited using this mentality as well. That they are supposed to love their job. So they expect you to work your wrists off "For the passion". Dont fall victim to it)

[taegularities]

just thinking thoughts

[eternal-reverie]

got the posting anxiety bad tonight

[sportsthoughts]

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