#you nerd

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

dOmIciLe

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Redrew the Korey ref because I have no self control

The absolute gal she is.

Little symbolism and poem made by my dearest nerd of a brother for the apple tree.

The Apple Tree of Toxicity

In a family filled with pain and strife,

An apple tree stood tall, a symbol of life,

Its branches reached out, so filled with grace,

Promising protection and a place,

But the fruits of this tree, oh so sweet,

Hid a bitter truth, hidden beneath,

They promised knowledge and a sense of power,

But only brought emptiness and devower,

For the taste of the fruit was oh so sour,

It left a feeling of nothingness in its wake,

As though the apples were poisoned,

Leaving a hollow feeling, a wound that cannot be healed,

And yet we still reach out, hungry for more,

Searching for answers to what lies in store,

For we cannot seem to let go,

Of the knowledge that the tree has to show.

But oh, how we wish to let go,

Of the toxicity that's brought us woe,

For we cannot escape the past,

And it leaves us with a feeling of emptiness at last.

SYMBOLISM LETS GOOOOOOOO—

In the story of Genesis, the forbidden fruit that Eve consumes is often interpreted as a figurative apple. Apples are associated with knowledge and wisdom, which can be a double-edged sword when it comes to toxic families.

On one hand, the pursuit of knowledge can help you see the truth about your family dynamics, which can lead to self-discovery and a sense of peace. On the other hand, the pursuit of knowledge can also make you realize the emptiness that can result from growing up in a toxic environment.

The apple tree, which bears the fruit of knowledge, can be seen as a symbol for families that are rooted in toxicity. The tree can provide a sense of stability and belonging, but it can also be a source of pain and trauma.

In such families, it is not uncommon for children to feel a sense of emptiness, as they struggle to make sense of their experiences and find their place in the world. The fruit of the toxic family "apple tree" can leave them feeling hollow, as they come to terms with the challenges of living in a family that is not emotionally supportive.

Ultimately, the experience of growing up in a toxic family is a journey of self-discovery and healing, much like the pursuit of knowledge from the forbidden fruit. Both can lead to a sense of emptiness, but also offer the potential for growth and healing.

Credit to my brother Rani, you're an absolute nerd, but thanks 👍

[animentality]

Amnesiac Durge goes to Gortash's office in the fortress and asks (a variation of) "What was I to you?"

Gortash steps forward, and takes hold of their hand. "Everything," he says. "You were mine." There's silence for a moment. Durge should be appalled because this is Gortash! Chosen of Bane, sold Karlach to Zariel, Archduke pretender! But something in their addled mind tells them that he was their everything too. That they were his.

And then they fuck. They do so every night behind the camp's back, your romance's back. After they defy Bhaal and get reborn by Withers. Durge still doesn't remember, but they like this, they feel oddly safe, it's right.

And then Gortash dies, either by their hand or the Brain's, and they now recognise that feeling of a hole in their heart from when they first awoke on the Nautilod.

It was him. And Durge weeps.

Hey anon...WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM

[seaverity]

Patterns............................

@dragonsyot

[xx-w0rlds-0k4y3st-f4g-xx]

WAIT FOR THE WIP WORD ASK CAN I HAVE 41. NO REASON

lol your word is "He"

[hybrid-royalty-main]

do u have a crush on me Y/N and why is it yes, but if its no why are you a liar- please respond :)

I'm absolutely hopeless for you and hope one day you'll notice me. Clearly too intimidated to approach though.

[paintedcrows]

Did anyone tell Ford (bonus doodles: Family Movie Night, 70s Classics)

[maculategiraffe]

nasa: we're going to shoot three rockets directly at the sun during the total eclipse. for study and research purposes.

me: oh cool

nasa: we have named the rockets apep. this stands for atmospheric perturbations [in the] eclipse path.

me: oh cool

nasa: apep is also the ancient egyptian deity of chaos and darkness, who ceaselessly seeks to extinguish the sun. we launch these rockets directly at the sun in the name of apep.

me: oh... cool?

[jonnywaistcoat]

I low-key love the fact that sci-fi has so conditioned us to expect to be hanging out with a bunch of cool space aliens, that legitimate, actual scientists keep proposing the most bizarre, three-blunts-into-the-rotation "theories" to explain the fact we're not.

Some of my favourites include:

Zoo Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they're not talking to us because of the Prime Directive from Star Trek? (Or because they're doing experiments on us???)

Dark Forest Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they all hate us and each other so they're all just waiting with a shotgun pointed at the door, ready to open fire on anything that moves?

Planetarium Theory: What if there's at least one alien with mastery over light and matter that's just making it seem to us that the universe is empty to us as, like, a joke?

Berserker Theory: What if there were loads of aliens, but one of them made infinite killer robots that murdered everyone and are coming for us next?!!

Like, the universe is at least 13,700,000,000 years old and 46,000,000,000 light years big. We have had the ability to transmit and receive signals for, what, 100 years, and our signals have so far travelled 200 light years?

The fact is biological life almost certainly has, does, or will develop elsewhere in the universe, and it's not impossible that a tiny amount of it has, does, or will develop in a way that we would understand as "intelligent". But, like, we're realistically never going to know because of the scale of the things involved.

So I'm proposing my own hypothesis. I call it the "Fool in a Field" hypothesis. It goes like this:

Humanity is a guy standing in the middle of a field at midnight. It's pitch black, he can't move, and he's been standing there for ages. He's just had the thought to swing his arms. He swings one of his arms, once, and does not hit another person. "Oh no!" He says. "Robots have killed them all!"

[satorena]

taking nerdjo’s glasses while you’re riding 🥸

cw. 18+. semi public sex. sub undertones. breeding kink.

“—ohhhh fuckkkkk,”

he doesn’t understand it— any of it. he doesn’t understand how he, of all people, managed to get you. the it girl on campus— with pretty hairstyles and cutesy nails, flocks of both girls and boys crawling after you for the slightest bit of your attention, is somehow interested in the least known guy around— the lanky, socially awkward physics teacher assistant with fading digimon stickers glued to the back of his worn down computer.

gojo assumes he’s experiencing one hell of a good dream. that’s the only way to explain the insatiable feeling of wet heat enveloping his aching dick. it’s the only way to explain the pornographic sounds of skin slapping echoing in this empty library. it’s the only way to explain why his balls are begging for release with each grind of needy hips rocking against his own.

he doesn’t want to wake up. he feels the cheap fabric of carpet beneath his fingernails from digging them into the floor. his knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s clenching. there’s an abnormal tightening of a knot in his guts begging to be snapped. he can feel beads of sweat forming at his hairline and his foggy glasses are slipping past his nose bridge uncomfortably—

but he doesn’t want to wake up.

planted on the heels of whatever latest trendy shoes you own, you’re riding his cock as if he were your lifeline. god you feel divine— your folds swallowing him into your cunt with such ease and precision, walls clenching down the moment he’s balls deep. he can feel your acrylics scratching at his undercut with one hand while the other holds your body steady down his thigh.

gojo doesn’t think he’s breathing, and frankly, isn’t sure if he wants to. you’re reckless— moaning freely in the emptiness of the establishment and right into the shell of his ear as if your birthright, careless of the thuds of heavy textbooks hitting the floor. there’s a crease in your brows and your jaw hangs slack, glossy lips parted as they release the hymns of your cries,

“—so deep, can feel you in my stomach!”

your tits bounce in clockwise motions. you’d freed yourself from your top sometime between the flirting behind bookshelves and his pikachu drawls dropping down to the floor. the sound of your pussy squelching with every bounce is a memory he wouldn’t forget even on his death bed— cunt so wet he can hardly feel his own dick in you.

the pad of your thumb grazes his bottom lip, and you lean forward to catch it between yours. he’s frozen stiff— the slip of your tongue in his mouth, your overwhelming sweetness invading his senses. he’s moaning pathetically, growing some security in the muffled sounds, so overstimulated by this insatiable pleasure that his arms start to feel weak.

your tongue swipes at his lips before nibbling on the flesh, “—taste so good,” he feels your lips mouthing against his own, and wishes he was able to focus for a split second on what you told him, but the ache in balls are a telltale that this euphoric dream is drawing to an end.

he squints his eyes shut. he tries to focus on the latest chapter of his latest obsession manga and theories he’s conspired. he recalls the sneak of his wrinkly old professor’s ass crack from his early lecture. he thinks back on this auction he’s seen online for retro limited edition video games. did he ever end up submitting that biochem lab assignment due—

“gojo.”

he snaps his eyes open. he didn’t realize he’d clenched his entire facial muscles until the moment he was able to see you again— only releasing those muscles feeling tightness in his cheeks (amongst other places)(read: his cock).

you’ve slowed down your pace. you’ve switched your movements from bounces to grinding. he can feel his tip prodding at your gummy walls. your breath fans his cupid’s bow and he’s only now noticing how close in proximity you both are. he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, and he’s positive you can feel his stomach clenching against your own.

he begins to feel more of your body weight on his, a feeling he definitely wants to get accustomed to, as you shift from your feet to your knees. your hand on his thigh trails upwards past his trail of hair, sliding up past the ridges of his abs, over the planes of his chest and meet at his nape with its other duo. there’s an aroma of vanilla and cherries exuding off you—

heisenburg’s uncertainty principle. star wars mandalorian culture. the roswell ufo incident. fucking neon genesis evangelion’s a cruel angel’s thesis—

“you don’t like me?” you ask him, all doey eyed like. it doesn’t sound like a legitimate question, but his ‘huh’ does draw more into a whine when you intentionally clamp down on his dick. he doesn’t miss the mischievous glint in your eyes.

gojo bites down on his lower lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. his body releases a shudder at the chills creeping up his spine when you trace a finger down the slope of his neck, “w-what?” he asks weakly, huffing as his toes curl in his socks.

this time, you cock your head just barely to the side, and he watches your gaze trail from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. despite the agonizingly slow pace, you never stop riding him. his cock is still graced by your warmth, still snatching his soul through his slit. your lashes bat twice before glancing back up at his eyes.

“you don’t like me.” you’re not asking this time, your tone dripping in seduction and like a fool, finds himself swayed. you’re teasing him— he can see it in the way the corner of your lips quirk into your infamous smile. you’ve got him wrapped all around your pretty finger— he knows it and you definitely know it.

as if he was anybody to not like you. your ass cheeks clench when you drive your body forward, gripping on his cock so tight he can feel the wind knocked out his lungs, “no! are you, ngh, crazy— of course i do—”

“because i like you.” it falls short of a whisper, but the vibrations of your words against his lips shoot right to his heart and balls, and he knows his blotchy cheeks are now flushed red for an entirely different reason.

he answers faster than his mind can process, his stomach jumping with butterflies and an oncoming orgasm. your eyes won’t leave his— like a deceiving siren baring deep into his soul and rendering him vulnerable before consuming his entire being. not too far from his reality, hips bucking upwards as desperately as possible to emphasize his immediate answer, “i like you too—”

“you won’t look at me,” gojo hadn’t realized he shied away from your gaze, pouring his entire focus on not spilling both his heart and cum right into you, “talk to me.”

“i-it’s just, um,” he tries to flick his eyes back onto yours, but you’re still staring so intensely behind siren eyes and still rocking your hips. your fluids drip past your cunt and down his sack, before staining the carpet, “i’m a—mmph, nobody and you’re— well, you’re you,” he feels a hot tongue glide over the accumulated sweat on his neck and humps up again, “y’re just so pretty and every time i look at you i get the urge to c-cum but,” your teeth sink into his jugular before nibbling and he whines, throwing his head back, “i want— need you to cum first. . .”

there’s a beat of silence for a while. you’ve even halted your grinding altogether. he prays to god he didn’t mess up the one good thing that’s happened to him in all his twenty one years of living. you’ve even popped his now bruised skin from your lips— hovering right over the mark you left on him. pleasure licks at his limbs feverishly, back arching in hopes to dig even deeper (if possible) in your pussy.

you pull away from his neck and the tip of your nose is back to grazing his own. your usually styled hair is now a mess, your skin dampening from moisture and your lip gloss now swapped for your and his saliva— your overall classic, picture perfect image completely abandoned,

and he doesn’t think you’ve looked any prettier.

“so,” you draw out, freeing a hand from his locks to graze over the throbbing love bite at his neck. gojo sniffs, pushing his foggy glasses back up on his bridge with the back of his hand, and you caress the throbbing flesh, “the problem is when you look huh. . .?”

his neck is suddenly released from blissful torture and he feels his frames coming off his face from no effort of his own. his vision slowly fades and his pupils dilate to accommodate to his now poor quality of sight, “what are you—”

and his breath hitches. he can only make out your shape through your sinful curves but there’s no mistake from your silhouette— your hands, now holding his glasses hostage, press at his chest, “trust me,” you apply firm pressure from your palms to his upper body, and he feels himself sinking into the floor, back meeting the dirty carpet.

trust you? he’d lay his life on the line for a woman like you.

his fingers spread as his palms face the sky, and his breath staggered. the bookshelves, windows and study rooms are all blurry as fuck— which is both off putting and extremely risky since library hours were still valid at this time, but despite it all, it felt as if he could see you clear as day. gojo would usually never put his academics on the line, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of possibly getting caught having sex with the finest girl in school in a public library had his cock twitching incessantly.

god, he is just so happy to be here.

your fingers slide his glasses atop your nose bridge, and your cheeks split into a cheeky smile, hips beginning to roll back into their previous tempo. he feels your hands grabbing his own, before resting them at your hips. he’s a greedy man, and since the opportunity may only come once in his lifetime, he slides his hands further to your ass., and with a gulp, grabs the flesh greedily. damn— it hardly fits in his palms.

there’s a symphony of moans coming from you both when you lift your hips up, and it’s downright disgusting how turned on he gets at your essence trickling down his shaft and past his balls. your pussy lips drool and latch onto his tip tightly, before entirely releasing him and slipping your hand between your thighs. you kneed his nuts, fondling the testicles between your digits expertly and his back arches off the floor, “shouldn’t be an issue anymore, yeah?” you hum.

“y-yeah— oh god, yes,” gojo nods dumbly, toes curling in his socks as you proceed to stroke his cock. his tip is weeping in pre cum blended with your own wetness, and the faster you flick your wrist, the tighter his stomach contracts. he’s lasted quite some time now, considering this being his first time and all, but there’s only so much a man can hold back. his fingernails dig crescent moon shapes into the mounds of your ass as his hips chase after your touch with every stroke. “w-wait, fuck, i’m gonna cum—”

“yeah?” you encourage him, hunching just over his weeping dick, still holding him at his base. you drag his tip in between your lips, back and forth, while your other hand feels him up at his abs. “where do you wanna finish? on my face?” he whines, mindlessly humping and your smirk deepens as you slowly sink down, “on my tits?” gojo shakes his head, and feels drool coming from the corner of his lips. his limbs are on fire and his groin feels like it’s on the verge of explosion, “on my ass?” you’re about halfway down, “or. . . inside?”

“please,” he doesn’t care if he’s begging. snowy lashes bat open as his teary unfocused eyes adjust to the dimmed lights. even your silhouette is sexy, “please lemme cum inside, i-i’ll do anything.”

“hmm, anything?” you purr, knees finally hitting the floor as you straddle him once more. he lets out a guttural groan at the familiar feel of your silky walls entrapping his cock. his mind is fucking hazy and despite never having consuming alcohol, he feels drunk.

“yes,” he pleads, rolling his hips impossibly deeper into you, euphoric pleasure shooting in his bloodstream, “a-anything you want, i swear,” at the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud gasp when his tip bumps into your cervix and drop your body forward, arms giving out.

chest to chest, skin to skin, your lips hover over his as your back dips into an arch, forcing a penetration deeper in your guts. your palms are pressed flat onto the floor at the side of his head, and he can make out his glasses sitting lazily on the ball of your nose. he slides his hands up your sides, kneading at every inch of your flesh, before sliding back down to your ass.

“even my homework? assignments?” you tease breathily, a strangled moan ripping out your throat when his knees push up and fucks into you. your body jerks forward as his feet plant to the floor, hands still gripping on your ass.

when he snaps his hips up, you roll yours down, and the matching intensity sends his brain haywire. he’s desperate for release, forcing your hips down as he nudges his cock languidly into your cunt. his jaw falls slack and he nods again, dumbly, “ngh, for the rest of the s-school year,”

“that easy with you?” you giggle, but is easily interrupted when he leans forward to catch your lips in a messy kiss. there’s a shit ton of saliva involved, some even escapes past your mouths and down your jaws, but he couldn’t care any less—you tasted heavenly. he wishes he had the time to eat your pussy, he’s positive you taste holier down there.

“it’s your world.” gojo moans, snaking his hands from your ass to wrap around your upper body. now caught in his embrace, you let your head fall limply into the crook of his neck as he works his dick in and out of you. he means what he said— it is your world, and he’s nothing more than a happy servant. “i’ll do it all— bring your books to class, rub your feet— i’ll bark if you need me to— just, please, please, please let me cum inside.”

your moans vibrating from his neck run straight to his ears and fuels him further. he’s thrusting relentlessly— there’s no set pace at all, and he’s so close to finishing he’s completely forgotten about wanting you to cum first. he finally understands why everybody obsesses over sex— he never wants to let you go.

your head pushes up from his neck, nosing at his jaw. he feels your hands cradling his hair, and your lips pressing kisses at the corner of his mouth. his heart skips a beat— he revels in the attention you’re giving him, even if it’s just for the moment. he knows he won’t ever be this lucky again, so he might as well enjoy the ride while he’s here.

“you wanna breed my pussy?” you bite your lip, each stroke in your cunt jerking the glasses down the slope of your nose. despite the dense flog clouding the lens, he can feel your eyes on him. he nods desperately, tightening his hold on you, and the new angle has your clit dragging against his pelvis, “mmph— okay, yeah — put a baby in me, freak.”

and so he does. he thrusts as spurts of cum shoots inside your womb. his balls tighten as his hips rut, arms clutching onto your body with every fibre in him. you smell good, feel good, look good— and your cunt milks him dry for whatever he’s worth.

his orgasm feels short of an eternity yet simultaneously a second, his soul having transcended into an outwardly dimension. and it’s only when you scoot your ass upwards, sliding a hand between both warm bodies, that you collect his cum on the pad of your fingers. he blinks hazily, zeroing his focus when he sees you pop your fingers into your mouth.

“mhm,” you hum at the taste. he’s panting heavily, body riding a euphoric high he’s yet to come down from. you don’t seem to mind, leaning forward to catch his lips once again. and he lets you, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue. when you pull away, there’s a thin string of cum induced saliva pulling at your lips. “‘s my world, right? want my pussy in your mouth.”

and he instantly hardens.

[youthofpandas]

What’s up with how the dunmeshi fandom just lies about this kind of stuff all the time. It is easily confirmable information that it was a monthly series, something incredibly common in the industry.

A not weekly magazine schedule is literally common !! Especially in the seinen shoujo and josei demographics, sometimes monthly, sometimes biweekly, sometimes every two months, sometimes seasonal! Please stop lying about how Dunmeshi was some special unique creation that defies all standards of manga just to hype it up because it is so clear that every single one of these comparisons is centered around Weekly Shonen Jump (and understand that SJ has many magazines under its brand that are monthly or semimonthly). Not everything is WSJ and it needs to stop being the only point of reference in conversations like this 🤧

[gojoscinnamonroll]

dating nerdy bf! gojo— everyone thinks your sweet little dork of a boyfriend is innocent, but little do they know how much of a horny freak he is, especially when you’re sitting on his lap in the library studying; his weakness.

you were too concentrated on jotting notes down to realize his hard length was poking you from underneath your skirt nor hear his breathing starting to become heavy until he moves your hair to the side and rasps in your ear, “baby…you look so beautiful when you’re focused.”

confused, you flip your head around to see your pathetic boyfriend in a complete haze– flushed cheeks, eyes full of hunger, lips glossy and red. “satoru, are you okay? need some water? a snack? we can take a bre–“ he cuts you off.

“no.” he breathed out, “what i need…” starting to grind up against your heat, “is to feel you around my cock.” groaning against your neck as his veiny hand snakes around the other side.

you can’t help but feel the slight warmth starting to take over your face once he begins grinding his aching dick back and forth against your throbbing cunt, the stimulation nearly bringing you over the edge until you realize the two of you were still in the library, bringing your shaky hand over your mouth to muffle your slight whimpers.

“toru, we can get introuble if someone catches us right now.” you quietly whine, “can we finish this first then we can go…” almost slipping out a moan when he bucks his hips into you even faster.

“no, can’t mmh wait, need you now.” he mewled out (almost) out loud, that you had to turn around to shush him with your hand and caught a glimpse of his fogged up, tilted eyeglasses almost falling off his face and his mouth dangling open.

the roll of his hips against you came to a halt as his body began to squirm underneath yours, his eyes rolling back and sweat starting to drip down the sides of his face as he pants again your hand, the tent in his pants now becoming a stained wet spot. “so sorry sweets i-“ profusely apologizing. you sigh and get up from his lap.

“yeah yeah, c’mon lets go before someone notices you stained your pants you nerd.”

-

tags: @beanietopia @cuntphoric @alifromanotherworld @takumasimp @webism @yemmuisworld @xixflower

[screampied]

☆ cw. fem! reader, college au, first lesson, dumbification, praise, he's so nerdy, squırting, unprotected, mdni.

nerd! nanami who ends up teaching you a few ‘fundamentals’ of squirting after you end up gushing out by accident.

“oh, my,” he’d huskily croon, taking a short glance at your body that’s laid flat on his timber desk. mousy eyes zero up ‘n down your entire frame before he groans, feeling your legs snake around his slim torso. after another hourly long session of cramming your brain with pounds of boring information, you’d probably forget by the next day, you told nanami that you wanted to try out ‘penetration.’ and now, that came with you gushing straight out with his meaty shaft buried snugly deep inside of you. he grows quiet, smacking his lips as he feels your slobbering cunt dripping wetly like a running never-ending faucet. it’s almost adorable with the way your face scrunches up and you’re clawing at the buckle of his drooping belt with shaky hands. “we haven’t gone over that area yet, sweetheart,” and you’re moaning, feeling your back tickle against the scattered piles of marked papers that laid directly underneath you. “ah, ah. don’t close ‘em,” he purrs, staring as your stick-glossed quavery legs try to snap themselves shut. “let me examine the wet problem a bit closer.”

“w- was that supposed to happen?” you breathe through rushed pants, frantically chewing on your bottom lip as you watch him pull out. he’s slow, feeling your slight muscles tense and spasm as you drenched the entirety of his stilled dick with molasses of your webby slick. “f- fuck,” you whimper, and nanami’s pressing a pointed thumb down against the pearly top part of your tender clit. gradually, he’s swirling a plethora of exaggerated shapes alllll around your tender entrance, lowering his head once his turgid cock’s fully out of you.

with a placid hum, nanami nods. “don’t fret, sweet thing. it’s normal,” and you prepare a deep, heavy breath as you try to peek down, watching nanami re-adjust his clear-framed glasses. “but, do you think you can do that again? i’m . . having a bit of trouble with my vision,” and he softly presses a chaste kiss against your cunt. shortly after, a slimy dewy web of stringy juices merrily glues against his lips. “i believe if my hypothesis is correct . . if ‘m closer like thiiiis,” and you moan, feeling the cold lenses of his glasses press right up against your puffed folds. “you’ll help me solve just how much of a wet girl you can get for me this time.”

openly, nanami eyes at your sopping pussy that’s just pouring from all areas with so many dewdrops of slick. a shimmery stream of your syrupy arousal cascades down the slot of your entrance and oh- it’s so pretty. at least to him.

if you squinted enough, you could see the obscene mirroring reflection of the shiny glossed view that rests between your legs from the clear lenses of his glasses. “clitoral glands,” he starts to ramble, rubbing a thumb near the top bulb-shaped part of your twitching heat. “clitoral body,” and you moan, feeling him swerve his digit down lower. “but let’s skip to . . . her,” nanami coos huskily, and you gasp once his round thumb plugs itself inside you after just a few loose inches. you swallowed that single digit right up oh-so blissfully.

like a hidden trick of a magician—his finger disappears inside of your cunt, and it presses against a particular small texture right above your lower opening. “. . that pretty urethra of yours.”

there - that’s where you felt the exact pressure of yourself gushing out, creaming down his cock with such a vivid risqué spray.

you’re still getting over it as your jaw dangles open—mouth cutely wholly ajar and all. as nanami continues to toy with your slobbering clit, he silently grumbles whatever extra clitoris facts underneath his breath. a single finger that was tucked inside of your gummy orifice gradually transitions into two, and you let off the sweetest moan that rang against his ears.

“such a pretty pussy from an even prettier girl,” and his words smokily deepen as he loudly ‘pops!’ both fingers out of your drenched slit. it’s all puffy now, drooling from each slippery flap. nanami sits up before re-aligning his milky-covered tip against your sobbing cunt.. “mini pop quiz,” he grumbles, letting off a deep sigh once his flushed crownhead languidly slides its way between the split of your folds. you’re laid back against the desk with a pout twisting across both sides of your lips.

pop… quiz?

nanami adjusts his crooked glasses by shoving them slightly back with a middle finger before humming. “riddle me this,” and a sweet moan drags its way past your throat once he’s smearing his bulbous tip across your sticky entrance.

left-to-right and it’s hypnotic. “what is the majorly important gland of the clit that helps lubricate the vagina properly?” and nanami presses a large hand on your tummy, simpering at the cute silence for an answer. with a snicker, he tilts his head at your quirked brow. “oh- c’mon. this is easy, we talked about this two days ago.”

“t . . the um-” you stammer, the throbbing of your clit increasing with each delicious second that passed. with your mind joggling its empty memory, you inhale a moan that was desperately trying to escape from your spit-stained lips. “the clitoral glands?”

“close, but no, dumb girl,” and with a smack, nanami whacks his swollen tip against the front of your weeping pussy. you finally release that moan you were holding onto with heave after heave puffing out your chest. “try again. this time, actually use that brain for me, yeah?”

you pout, and after about four seconds you left off a whiny grump. “is it . . the skene’s glands?”

“good girl,” and you let off a needy mewl once he rubs a palm against your pussy. his personal way of praising you without words, even after calling you a ‘good girl.’

it’s a soft, enticing rub that smears the entirety of your slick around his entire palm, coating it right away.

you’re so wet - pathetically drenched that you stick your candied juices all over the prints of his hand.

“it’s very important that you know about the skene’s glands. just like how important it is for me to teach you how soaked you are,” and you don’t even realize it, but the second he spanks against your cunt once more with his palm, you’re squirting . . again.

it’s a thick shiny geyser that ends up spurting out of you with a loud pssssh! and your toes curled in ecstatic rapture. you’re whining at how sudden and abrupt it was, and nanami just shakes his head with a wry smile. a hand maneuvers in a circular rotation against your pussy as you finish your three-second monumental high. “f- fuuuck, fuck!” you whimper out the same colorful syllables through your lips as your eyelids droop.

as you’re panting, still feeling the scattered bundles of paper rub and prick against the back of your skin, you eye nanami through murky peripherals. pretty ‘n glossed-eyed, you let off a shaky puff before moaning. “did . . did i pass?”

“not quite,” nanami takes his glasses off. they were still a bit soaked from earlier, a bit of your own droplets of literal juices fogging the lenses before he gave it a sweet lick. filthy. nanami squints at your twitching body before slithering a fat thumb down your tender, convulsing pussy for the nth and last time. “think we still have more basics to go over,” and he positions his head right back down between the eagle-spread valley of your legs, whistling riiiight between your driveling, puffy slit.

“besides,” and you whine once he gives your cunt its final, sloppy spank. “my only criticism— is that, we could work on that squirt velocity a little bit more,” and he pats your cunt before staring straight at your pulsating entrance, hungrily licking his lips.

“i wouldn’t mind training her, heh.”

[cellar-whales]

@otiksimr

A Non-Exhaustive List of Tips For Managing Carpal Tunnel Syndrome

If you type, write, draw, craft, or do anything with your hands, you are at risk for carpal tunnel! If you're developing any pain, or have none but want to take preventive measures, feel free to try these. I'm not a doctor, but these help my case of severe CTS!

This advice may not apply to everyone, but these are all things you can do without receiving medical care. Yet know that options like pain prescriptions, steroids, and surgery are possible for relief.

Give your hands a break when necessary and feasible. Even just implementing one rest day a week can be extremely beneficial.

Stretch your hands, fingers, arms, and neck regularly. This video can get you started.

Look into a hand massager. I use this one. If your pain is severe, I find massaging before stretching is most effective.

Vary your positions. You can reduce strain by trying differing neutral angles of arm/wrist position while working. Elevation helps.

Use ergonomics. Ones I use include an ergonomic mouse and mousepad, and this support pen from PenAgain.

Explore temperature therapy. Both heat pads or ice packs can be helpful depending on your needs and preferences.

Work on grip strengthening. If you already have CTS pain, be careful, but some wrist/finger exercise can help. I use this tool.

Train yourself to work more gently. Lighten your grip on writing tools, slow down and don't press so hard while typing.

If you already have pain, GET WRIST BRACES. Sleep in them to start, then wear them during the day if needed. You can also...

Try out k-tape. I personally get more pain if I use a brace 24/7, so this k-tape wrap is nice for day-time support.

Look into finger splints too. Finger hypermobility or exertion can strain wrists much more quickly, especially when typing.

Compression gloves also help. These are my "lowest tier" for support when my pain is mildest.

Get comfortable with voice-typing. Adjusting to this can be hard, but its an excellent way to keep writing without hurting yourself.

Especially if you have severe pain, consider tools marketed at amputees. Obviously be mindful of the resources you take up, but accessibility tools are for anyone who needs them. When my pain is at my worst, I am unable to use my arm/hand and can't even raise it, so tools to facilitate one-handed use are helpful.

And finally, not so much a tip, but a warning. Most likely, you'll get CTS pain in your dominant hand first. When that happens, do not switch to your non-dom hand and continue on. That hand is not in the clear, its next. Implement treatment and management in both hands, and use your non-dom hand when necessary while not overworking it either. Don't let yourself fall into denial because you can "get by" without adjustments. I promise the initial ability to keep working without inconvenience is not worth developing CTS in both hands lol.

If anyone else has advice please add on! I live as a walking warning to my husband who crochets to take care of his hands, so here's to hoping I can help others too!

[oficeandwind]

you bitch you didn’t follow me >:[ (i love u spank)

BITCH I WAS TALKING ABOUT REMAKING IN YOUR SERVER

(i love you too gem)