#'i told myself they needed me but that was a lie. i needed them.' you all needed each other!!

[authorhjk1]

I also really enjoyed reading RV doing cosplay for reader.. Would you be so kind as to making one for ITZY too?

Yeji

You were surprised seeing her dress like this. After all, she just asked you to take her on a coffee date, so you thought she would go out like all idols do, when they don't want to be seen. But instead Yeji looked hotter than the summer heat and more recognizable than ever. When the two of you reach your car, you're surprised Yeji asks you to pop the hood. You quickly do as she says, before walking over to her. Your eyes grow wide when you see Yeji lift the top and secure it, but stays bend over the hood. While she looks down at the engine, your eyes are glued to her tight midriff. A couple drops of sweat on her skin glisten in the summer sun.

"Wow. Nice headers. You've got a high-rise double pump carburetor. That's pretty impressive."

You heard these words so many times already. But hearing them come out of Yeji's mouth, with her bent over your hood, pretending to examine your car's engine and her tight tummy on display...

Ryujin

She didn't tell you the whole plan. But just enough to make you worried. Ryujin is dominant in and outside the bedroom. And sometimes her roleplaying is very hard on you. This time is no exception. You lie on the bed, pretending to be asleep, when she opens the bedroom door. She only told you to play along. And now you know what she means.

Ryujin is standing in the door, her brown skirt reaching her knees. Her upper body is hidden by a tight brown top and white furr is draped over her shoulders. Maybe wolf, or polar bear or something. Her mischievous, almost dangerous smirk makes you swallow hard. Your eyes focus on her hands. Her left is holding a round shield. Her right an axe.

You get off the bed, but Ryujin is faster. She uses her shield to pin you against the wall. Her axe dangerously close your throat.

"Looks like I found myself a new slave."

Chaeryeong

"Chaeryeong?"

You yell through the apartment, but you don't get answer.

"Why are all the lights out?"

You step into the living room, which is dark as well. The only light you see is the small light on your music box, which is standing on the coffee table.

"Chaeryeong?"

You wait for a while, but it stays quiet.

Suddenly a sharp snap-hiss sound interrupts the silence. You know that sound. And you're looking at the source. The red lightsaber, which is giving off a steady hum, is being held by Chaeryeong, who is standing in the door. The red light illuminates her black leather outfit. A wooshing sound cuts through the air as she lifts the lightsaber near her face. The red light makes her look so evil.

"If you are not with me, then you're my enemy."

Lia

You don't know if she is supposed to be a Disney princesses, or if it's just a random dress, but Lia looks great in it. She twirls around for you once more, her dress lifting off the floor and showing her feet.

You didn't expect her to come out of the bedroom like this. Even when she said she wants to try something new. But you like it nonetheless.

"My lady."

You give her a quick bow with a smile on your face.

"I'm in need of some assistance. Would you be so kind to follow me into my quarters?"

You laugh at her choice of words, but you follow after her after taking her hand.

Yuna

"Daddy!"

Yuna surprises you as she walks out of the bedroom and in your direction. With no build up at all, she is suddenly standing in front of you wearing what seems to be a makeshift school uniform.

"I failed my exam again."

"Really?"

You luckily don't need much time to adapt to Yuna's sudden roleplaying.

"Yes. I hope you aren't going to spank me again?"

Her eyes, filled with lust, tell you that that's exactly what she is hoping for.

You close the book you were reading and put it to the side. Without a word, you pat your thigh. Yuna pouts, pretending to be disappointed, but moments later, she is bent over your lap.

[ihateoldermen]

French!Reader x TF141

Hey, soo I thought of this earlier and wanted to share it I kept telling myself that the 141 would hate Châtelet and they would be RIGHT. I suffer in Châtelet everytime I have to go there, so the boys will be suffering with me too This is just some thoughts that I developed a little, so the writing might be weird

The 141 had been sent out for a mission in France, something about a french army guy having informations for them that couldn't be said over phone, Laswell words. She told John that they'd only need to go to a specific place and then a guy would pick them up in his car. But unfortunately, they had to go to the worst train station in the Parisian region. Châtelet-Les Halles. What a nightmare for them (And for everyone going there really).

None of them knew how to speak french. Sure, they'd knew some words here and there, and by 'they', really it's John who's carrying the group with the little bit of knowledge he holds for the french language. It was not pleasant. Johnny hated how they were so many people bumping into him and not apologizing like he was invisible. How rude. Kyle's head was starting to hurt from how much noise there was. They'd get weird stares from time, mostly Simon got them. 4 big guys, one with a mohawk and another tall one with a black surgical mask, a guy with british cap and a man with mutton chops is not something you see everyday.

After turning for what seemed like eternity, they finally found their exit thanks to Kyle. All of them sighed, feeling relieved that their hell was almost over, Johnny being the happiest. Simon patted his pockets for a bit, taking his hand in and out of each one of his. Always empty handed. He had lost his ticket. Everyone's tickets actually as he was so sure that he wouldn't loose them and that no one would try to pickpocket him. Looks like he was wrong. And now, tickets inspectors are pulling all of them to the side. And the cherry on top is that they don't speak english. Surely they should know a bit but they're not even trying. Johnny was starting to feel irritated now, he just wanted to get out of there, all of them wanted that. John would be sure to call Laswell to tell her to never send any of them here again.

But thankfully, there you were. Like their gardian angel. You had seen them getting cornered as you were about to pass your card to get to the other side. Curiosity got the best of you and you simply stood aside to watch, quite far but not much. As much as you wanted to go home after a tiring day, you stayed. Far enough that it wouldn't be suspicious. You got a good look at the guys. They were… all quite attractive, you couldn't lie. Are they actors or something? You heard how the bearded one tried to speak french to the inspectors, and even though he had trouble, you could understand him very well. He had an accent, sure, but it doesn't take a genius to know what he was trying to tell them. But the inspector looked like he was playing dumb and tried to just make simple money. You hated them. How many times have you had to pay them because of a missing ticket? Too many times.

You fumbled into your bag and pulled out a bundle of tickets. You only have them for emergency and this is one. You don't know why you're doing this, maybe it's because you find them hot, maybe it's because you would have wanted to be helped in this situation. You went up to them, standing in front of the bearded guy and the inspector. With your biggest smile, you began : "Désolé, ils sont avec moi." (Sorry, they're with me.) And you pratically shoved the man four tickets into his face. The 141 didn't know what was happening. Who are you? Why are you here? "On a été séparés et c'est moi qui ai leurs tickets, mais vous connaissez Châtelet, on se perd rapidement ici." (We've been separated and I'm the one that has their tickets, but you know Châtelet, we get lost easily here.) You smiled, almost grinned but you didn't want to appear too smug as you looked at his face. Got you. You can't fool someone that had been fooled that many times before. He looked down at you with a small glare before huffing and walking away. You smiled and then turned back to the guys. You just wanted to find a hole to wither away in with how intense they were starring at you. They couldn't believe what just happened. On one hand, they were so glad that you did that for them. On the other hand, they couldn't understand why you did that for them. Simon was glaring at you, he hadn't even noticed you before. Too much people around for him to pay attention to you. Kyle and Johnny were britghtly smiling at you. John looked at you, scrutinized you, trying to decipher if you were a spy before he murmured a small 'merci' with a soft smile, all of them did the same, even Simon. You couldn't possibly be a spy with how soft you looked. It was almost cute that grown men like them would whisper like that you. You'd give each of them their ticket, a smile on your lips, brushing your fingers with them. You didn't focus on your accent so you must have sounded so cliché to them. "Don't loose them, they are too fucking expensive. Also they are for the whole day, you can use them for the bus too, until midnight. Just like cinderella." You'd chuckle. Johnny's grin got widder as you spoke english and joked slightly, he tried to speak as clearly as possible for you as he knew that his accent could be hard to understand. "You speak English, hen?" "Yes, I do. And I must say, that inspector? What an asshole. I'm sure he knew what you were trying to say." You roll your eyes after giving the last ticket to the pretty man with the cap before turning back to look for the inspector. Before anyone could say something else, thanking you again with better words, you turned back to them. "Where do you want to go? I could help you." John almost stuttered as he replied too quickly. "Thank you, love, but we know how to take it from here. Thank you a lot." You smiled at him, and to the other guys too. "You're welcome." You say as you take a few step back, you were going to take the rer D and it was almost rush hour. You hate rush hour, just like everyone. "I need to go now, I don't want to be caught in too much crowd." You wave to them, dissapearing in the crowd of people. The guys were still quite in shock before John took the reigns to exit this station. All their tickets passed without any problem and, finally, they were out of there. Kyle was the first one to speak. "We should have asked for her number." "That's what I was thinkin' about!" Johnny replied, pratically groaning. John was deep in his thoughts, just like Simon but for different reasons. John was telling himself that he should have stopped you and give you money or offer you a coffee for compensation, but you were too fast as you left. Simon was still trying to think when he'd lost the tickets, frustrated with himself. But one thing is sure, you were their angel that day. They'd think of you for the whole time they'd be in France, hoping to run into you again.

(If there's any grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me!)

[hella1975]

so there's a reason my new job got back to me so quickly about my application and that's bc it's an absolute fucking shambles like actually perfect timing for me to decide to rewatch the bear bc i have never more felt like ive been thrown into a broke on-its-knees establishment trying to crawl its way up the ladder where i am somehow a godsend to them. my old job was crazy and shambolic in the sense that the industry is just Like That but this one?????? insanity. every 5 mins i am questioning what im doing with my life. ive already had a walk-in fridge moment

[a-blip-of-billdip]

this isnt what i usually post on this blog but I'm already sick of all the memes and 'jokes'. I am almost certainly leaving the fandom for good now because of the book of bills release and NO it is not because billford's community has an influx of supporters.

So the worship and romanticization of asylums and other abusive practices for mental health have been steadily gaining traction in recent years, especially with the rise of tiktok's toxicity.

SO many people, especially younger people, regularly talk about how they want lobotomies or how women they don't like should be lobotomized. They get tattoos of lobotomy like it's some quirky fun thing and not one of the most horrific tortures someone can endure.

These same people, ESPECIALLY leftists, will look at anyone they disagree with or don't like and say "get institutionalized, loser" or "et therapy" and it's always in a mocking way. it's always in a policing way.

because these people know that mental wards strip everyone of their freedom and their bodily autonomy. they know these places arent for healing--theyre for silencing.

So the amount of people i see treating bill being institutionalized like a good thing---even the writers and alex himself?

Yeah. Im out ✌🏼

[n0bluev]

@fushiglow hmm….wonder who i’d draw this for all of a sudden and why… 🤔🤔

[rubiesintherough]

.

[killuaisaprincess]

reminder GONKI IS MORE CANON 😤😏 so anytime some kg person tries to send hate at you remember it’s just cuz they’re big mad Gonki more canon eheheh 😘🤭

[sovamurka]

Happiness That Never Was

Still thinking about the fact that Sasha and Inga never really got a chance to live a peaceful, simple and happy life.

They were born into abusive households. Sasha was impoverished to the point when he couldn’t afford any food, starving for days, with Inga being the only one feeding and caring for him. Inga was constantly beaten up by her stepdad, and her mother did not stop him. The only one who stopped Inga from accepting so much abuse was Sasha, telling her ‘If your mother really loved you, then she wouldn’t let him hurt you’.

Inga: Wanna finish?

Sasha: But what about you?

Inga: Unlike you, I’m fed at home.

Sasha: Unlike you, I’m not beaten up at home.

Inga: Is this some kind of competition?

At one point things got so bad that Inga wanted to run away and Sasha had to stop her from doing it on her own because she’s underaged and had no place to escape. But he had a suggestion. He suggested they call Child Services, so they could send them to an orphanage. His plan was simple: they could live there until they reached 18 and then live how they wanted, without the abuse. 

Sasha: Let’s call the Child Services so they could take us.

Inga: To an orphanage?

Sasha: Just for a few years. Till we come of age. We need to get as far away from them (their abusive households) as we can...

On top of that, Inga is dyslexic and was continually mocked for it by everyone, except Sasha. He wanted to help her. He wanted to find a book so interesting that it would keep her so engaged she would try to go through and be proud of it. He did find it. Too bad that this book had a trap that caused them to get poisoned with white ink (which is one of the most important plot points in recent chapters and Exlibrium as a whole, this part of their story has been kept a secret for years, we only learned about this, like, half a year ago). 

Sasha: I thought if you like the book, then you would try to go through it to learn what happens next. That’s why I found a good one for you. I liked it, so I wanted to share it with you because that’s what friends do.   

After they were caught by the Bookwizard Circle, they were subjected to one of the most horrifying experiences in their lives - the ink trial. Nor Inga neither Sasha got the white ink as their main source of power, but both of them were stopped by the Circle. Why? Well... First, because Sasha’s colour was not a part of the spectre (his ink is grey, which is a big no no, because it’s close to monochrome ink). Second, even though Inga got azure ink she still had a huge amount of white ink in her body, to the point that her hair (including brows and eyelashes) turned white entirely and one of her eyes started looking like this:

Third, Leska family wanted to experiment on them in the first place because of how they got poisoned. Leskas wanted to see what would happen if both of them got white ink power. To their disappointment, none of them did. But they still proceeded to torture and experiment on them for a year, to see what could happen and to learn why Sasha got grey colour and why Inga still had white ink in her body. All while condemning them for it and telling them that they don’t belong here and that their every mistake is a fatal one (which backfires badly in Sasha’s case because that’s exactly why he did what he did in the future, costing the Library many lives and reputation).

After some time at the library (and the constant pressure from the Circle) Sasha (who was on the verge of suicide with Inga being his sole reason to live, because he was still blaming himself for putting her in danger) goes against the rules and tries to free a character named Agata from being killed over and over again by her best friend. As I mentioned, nothing goes according to plan, people die, all the students turn against him and start blaming him for everything... 

Except for Inga. She never blamed him and never turned her back on him. She understood him like no one else, accepting him with all his flaws. She defended him, when no one else did. And everyone hated her for it. Her mates still talked to her, but none of them were allowed to bring this issue up in her presence because they would immediately get into an argument with her. Sasha, however, started blaming himself even more, constantly apologizing for what he did. Also, he started to become even more self-critical and deemed himself unworthy of any love (especially from Inga, which he later confesses to her). 

Sasha: You always supported me. Even when I didn’t deserve it.

Inga: Nonsense! You always deserved it!

This internalized self-hatred results in him being ready to throw his life away, because, in his opinion, there is no other way for him to redeem himself. What he doesn’t realize, however, is that a lot of things that he did after this incident already redeemed him in the eyes of others. Even in Rita’s, whose almost-boyfriend Vladya died because of Sasha. And yet, even after this, after he finally started to stabilize and heal his mental state (despite losing his mentor and dear friend Nightingale, btw), after swearing not to die, he still had this gnawing feeling that the only way he can truly redeem himself is to sacrifice his life, so Inga could live. She was having none of it, so he tricked her into being saved, and it’s so heartbreaking because she was the first one to swear not to die, she didn’t want Sasha to see another loved one perish. And now she’s the one who has to see her beloved die. 

(Bonus: Lilya, who just had Kira back, also loses her in this process, wtf, why this series always punishes those, who dare to love somebody, like this)

It’s made even worse by the fact that Sasha is technically both dead and alive. So he kept his promise, but he also didn’t. Now we have to wait and see Inga’s (probably unhinged and very heart-wrenching) reaction to it.  

I have a very, very small hope for a happy ending. Mostly because this series is known for it’s glass-choking content and everyone has to suffer there. But I still have this hope, I always do.

Inga and Sasha’s story is still unfinished, but, for now, it can only be described as “Happiness That Never Was”. 

[beesholmes]

.

[gatun-gatunesco]

...

[m1d-45]

Fast makes trash, even gems take a few million years to form, dont rush yourself.

Trust me, if you do that, you'll never be satisfied with it.

-🥘Stew

you are so right actually. stew for motivational speaker 2023

[sereniv]

apologies are hard and can be embarassing

but life is too short to let your grandma go to bed sad

[medicinemane]

Seriously, it would be a mercy to kill me. I'm begging for help dying. Do you not see why it's fucking torture to keep my alive while living with her? I'll never escape her, like there's just no practical way to make it happen

And yet, till I get my act together and find a way to die already, show must go on

[fatal-blow]

growing up, my mum always told me, whenever i went to the doctors or any sort of health professional, that it was important that i told them that i was hypermobile. she'd done the tests with me (herself being hypermobile and disabled in large part because of it) and though she didn't know the details, she knew that hypermobility was important to have in my health record.

so it was to my great surprise and displeasure that, whenever i told doctors i was hypermobile, it was skipped over. never addressed, never touched on, not even a comment to belie what that meant for me. i myself didn't know the impact hypermobility could have on a person, but my mother had been insistent about that fact. it was important, so why did no one else seem to think so?

i grew up with kids in school who were on the extreme ends of hypermobility. i knew a boy in middle school who could put both feet behind his head. i knew a girl in high school with long, spindly fingers who showed me how far backwards her arm could bend.

both of them had health problems, which became more profound as they aged. i never knew the details, but it stuck out that they were hypermobile, and so was i, and with my own health declining there HAD to be a connection.

common knowledge gives the vague definition of hypermobility as extra stretchy muscles, of being double-jointed. it comes with warnings not to push your hypermobile body into the extremes. don't overextend, you will hurt yourself.

the warnings are warranted. the importance isn't overplayed. these things i knew, but i didn't know why. and without knowing why, they were warnings that i could never truly obey, despite how conservative i became with my movements in a vain attempt to protect what little ability i had left.

hypermobility is NOT stretchy muscles. muscles are supposed to stretch. in fact, it's important to their health (those conservative movements prolly hurt more than helped!). hypermobility affects connectives tissues, and lands under the umbrella of Ehlers-Danlos Sydromes (there are a few) which can range in severity from affecting skin and tendons to affecting blood vessels and organs.

severity is rare, and much easier to catch. this post is for the people who are "a little hypermobile" so that they can understand what makes their body different.

a muscle and its associated tendons are like a hammock. the muscle is the fabric you lie in, stretching to accomodate the load. tendons are the rope that attaches the fabric to the trees, providing a secure anchor for the muscle to operate.

so, what happens when the ropes on the hammock are also stretchy? well, you sit in the hammock and your ass hits the ground.

now imagine that the fabric of the hammock has the ability to clench like a muscle. a normal hammock doesn't need to work that hard to stop ass from meeting ground, because it has sturdy anchors. a hammock with stretchy rope, however, must exert several times more effort, because the more the muscle pulls, the more the tendons stretch.

in short, hypermobility forces your muscles to work harder, because they must first pass the threshold of stretch the tendons are capable of before it can actually do the task it's meant to do. the stretchier the tendons, the harder the muscle needs to clench, the easier it is to overwork.

this info reframed everything i was doing with my body. small tasks of strength required the effort of much larger tasks, and larger tasks ranged from extremely difficult to impossible. holding my arms up so i could work above my head required monumental effort. with an anatomical peculiarity of the feet, i needed to use several muscles in my calves and hips just to stand without losing balance.

so no fucking wonder i crashed and burned in my 20s, when everything i did took all of my strength to accomplish. no wonder i would contort myself out of shape, so flexible that i could anchor myself into extreme poses just to give my muscles a moment of relief, overstretching myself without ever realizing why, and what damage i could be doing.

so, some things to remember:

overextending isn't good for you, but it shouldn't be your biggest concern. instead, be aware of overexertion, both how LONG you are using a muscle without breaks and how HARD you are using it.

small, frequent breaks are your best friend if you need to do something for awhile.

when you take breaks, stretch the muscles you'd been using.

if you need to exert effort to maintain a pose (whether it's sitting, standing, etc) examine whether you need to be clenching those muscles, and why.

actually whenever you are using muscles, try to train yourself to use as few as possible. you can practice by sitting or standing, and relaxing as many muscles as you can before you tip over. finding a sense of balance can make your life so much easier.

become acquainted with what relaxed muscles feel like. chronic tension can distort your perception of this, and result in habitual tension.

so yeah. if you're hypermobile, that's important. don't let a doctor's dismissal make you think otherwise. take care of yourself and know what you are and aren't capable of.

[screampied]

Hello my love🩵 I know you’ve had a similar request to this before but I just love the way you write him so can we get soft dom choso who an obnoxiously big dick😵‍💫 like reader is trying to act like she can take it but he just knows she can’t so he just stays buried inside them and rubs their clit until she cums and is finally comfortable enough for him to move

trying to take big dick choso ★

warnings. fem! reader, soft dom choso, size kink, praise, whiny choso, cowgirl.

“just lie back baby,” you whisper against the shuck of his ear, gawking lovingly as his pretty long lashes flutter from your words alone. choso’s heart flutters dramatically by default, you’re hovering over his leaky tip and he can’t help but exhale out a low sigh of what’s to come. he’s all pent up and frazzled—he’s had a long day with dealing with irksome enemies and you told him you’d help relieve some of his stress. “wanna ride you.”

“o- okay,” he swallows, gently bringing his perspiring-coated hands towards your waist. choso’s touch was always so delicate, he stares at you all doe-eyed like and tries hard to suppress his moans once you finally hover over his top. you inhale, glancing down at his wide, mushroom tip that was leaking with various amounts of viscous candied pre. “you’re so pretty.”

his words of affection only make you pulse more between your thighs as you prepare to take him. inch by inch, once his tip bedaubs near your soddened entrance in such a sloppy fashion, you whine. choso’s overwhelmed with how pretty you look like this — in such a position, straddling him. he bites his lip as you’re barreling his length. with a brief jerk forward, he’s slowly easing his way into your folds before your jaw gradually swings itself open it utter surprise. then it hits you,

he’s fucking big.

almost right away, you feel the thick impact of choso’s stupendous girth,

you’re barely even moving but you’re still trying to take him fully. he hears the sudden change of patterns from your breath — they’re all trembly and erratic. with a cute look of worry, he nips a few kisses near your collarbone. “baby,” he whimpers, albeit it’s in the more form of a question. the softness of his fingertips brush against your skin as he feels you struggle to take him. “h-how is it? ‘s it okay? should i hold your hips?”

“i’m okay, ‘cho,” you huff out, almost positive at this rate you were gonna cum. you look down, feeling the pressure inside of you weaken only to then arise. as you grind your hips forward, you bite your lip with your head slightly throwing itself back. “f-fuuuck,” you’d croak out, slumping your limp arms around his broad shoulders. choso awkwardly holds onto you tightly, moaning himself from the way your gummy walls try to swallow him whole. “y- yeah, jus’ hold me okay? just like that, baby.”

“so warm inside,” he purrs, a sheepish smile tugging against his lips as he slouches back. you had him whipped—he needed you in such a carnal way that the tips of his ears burn a feverish hot. he’s feeling all of you all at once, your insides mashing against his, it was pure bliss. so warm, your gloopy walls itself were seductive—loose and clamping down on him, wringing against him voluntarily. “you can take it baby, s-so good, fuckkk.”

you could barely bare around him, the plump head of his cock continues to squeeze around you before you stay still, dragging your hands toward between your thighs.

choso watches with hazy eyes, your own fingers ghosting against your clit. “is it okay if i touch myself, choso?”

“you don’t have to ask,” he whines, his eyes softening as he presses a wet kiss against your chin. for a few seconds, you rub your fingers against your clit before he’s fully in. you moan, feeling his cock just sit still inside of you. choso swallows the lump residing in his throat before he holds onto your right hip with one hand. “even if you’re not riding me, you still look so b-beautiful.”

it makes his mouth water, you’re squeezing around him so tight, his breath is coming out in short pants as he’s just stuffing you full of his inches. choso’s big, you and him both knew that.

the raw stretch makes your mouth open ajar, you try to shift your hips forward but he’s just so big.

choso’s swollen sack sticks against your skin like glue. the lower undersides of his thighs burn, a scorching temperature of heat whilst you sit on him before he lies back. ripped abs of his curl and clench underneath his white tee as he suddenly starts to feel his own head theon back. with a low sigh, choso covers a hand over his face that was starting to brighten a cute tint of embarrassment.

“f- fuuuck,” and with that, you collapse right into your boyfriend. he catches you, soft inky pupils of his take in your beauty as you’re stuffed full of him. his cock remains still as a statue before you whimper once you feel his own fingers brush against your clit. “k- keep doin’ that baby, please. ‘m gonna cum.”

“i love your voice so m- much,” choso whines, feeling himself get sensitive himself from the hot warmth your clingy walls provide. it’s barely any friction happening but still — with his size, you’re basically getting fucked stupid. just without the delicious movement to back it up. choso starts to nibble on your neck, continuing to rub against your sweet drooling cunt. “praise me some more, please, t- talk to me, wanna make you cum.”

his voice— it was also sweet and shaky, you lift your head up to give him a quick kiss before moaning, “you make me feel so good, baby. keep rubbing me there, o- okay? jus’ like that,” and you press a kiss against the left temple of his cheek.

choso’s heart was about to explode— he was so in love, figuratively melting with his twitching shaft exploring your love cave.

“mmhn, cum for me. ‘s okay, make a mess so i can clean you right up princess.” he mutters back, hearing a familiar ring screech through his ears.

the pressure continues to alleviate, your entire body feels misty, everything’s a blur.

as choso’s thick fingers consistently strum against your sopping cunt, he’s still buried into your tightening walls before you finally let go. it’s as if everything’s going in slow motion.

your lips part and you gasp—a devoted, obscene orgasm finally rips out of your throat before your thighs shake over him.

skin to skin, body to body, he feels like you’re just stuck against him like a leech—clinging onto him like velcro, never ever letting go. that was perfect for choso because he didn’t want you to ever go anyway. you’re so pretty once you release though, eyelashes compressing together, jaw hung open, brows furrowing into a disbelieving curve—oh, you were in heaven.

despite how you weren’t able to ride him how you originally wanted— you were still a bit saddened by it, embarrassed.

choso notices the cute pout forming against your spit soaked lips before he cups your face. heaving heavily, he leans in to kiss your nose, a humming “mwah,” comes from him and your rapidly beating heart suddenly swoons. “i love you.”

“i- i love you too,” you puff out a single breath of fresh air, still feeling your thighs quaver from your recent teeth-shattering climax. as his dick was still tucked inside of your gripping walls, you mimic his gesture, kissing the tip of his nose. “you’re such a good boy ‘cho, did so good.”

“heh, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep praising me like that, baby.” he tries to joke— yet once he feels you shift your hips a little to move, he’s suddenly hard again. “o-oh fuck.”

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve always been a pretty good liar. As an adult I’ve come to a moral place in which I don’t use that skill set unless it will explicitly benefit someone. But when I was a kid all bets were off.

I think tiny child me was doing their little autistic best but recognized that some situations would be best navigated by lying as telling the truth never netted positive results. Whether it was because my needs often went unmet or ignored, or because I didn’t see any reason not to lie if it would be more favorable, I’m not sure.

This is the story of my proudest lie. The best lie I ever did. A lie that looking back I still go, damn, I was eight.

Our story begins in second grade. I was eight. My school was having a book fair and I spent my small stipend on Gulliver’s Travels. No idea why. Lacking further funds I wandered the fair and came upon the greatest sight known to man. Frog erasers. They were so cute and I was extremely into animals of all kinds.

The whimsy. Who could have known they made erasers in such wonderful shapes? I mourned that I’d spent my money already, and played quietly with the little frogs in their bin. That’s when I was approached by a few other kids from my class.

I didn’t know most of them very well, but enough that it was civil when they asked me, “Are you going to buy those frogs?”

“I’d like to,” I admitted, “but I spent all my money.”

“Why don’t you steal them?”

“I thought about that, but I don’t have pockets.” Indeed, stealing had crossed my mind but it had been a brief temptation. I wasn’t even scandalized that the other girls suggested it.

“Caitlin has pockets,” the leader of the pack said. And indeed, Caitlin in her purple overalls did have pocket space for two frogs. So Caitlin and I became partners. My role in the escapade was just... wanting frogs and walking out with her. We stole two frogs, a yellow and a purple, and united by the misdeed we played together with them at recess despite not really being friendly prior.

After lunch I was called from class to the library. The principal herself was there waiting for me. She had a somber air, almost mournful that she needed to punish me. It was self evident to me that I was here for frog crimes. Caitlin had cracked and taken the fastest route to forgiveness- snitching on an accomplice. Despite the fact that my role was just: wanted frogs, I knew I was going to be in trouble.

Now, I could have told the truth. Pulled a Caitlin and ratted on the girl who told us to steal them. But clearly I’d still be in trouble for having gone along with the morally bereft plan. I was mad at Caitlin for telling but not enough to foist the onus back into her.

“Do you know why you’re here?” The principal asked kindly.

“Is it about the frogs?”

“Yes, Caitlin told us you stole the frogs.”

I quivered my lip and drew myself up indignantly. “I didn’t steal them!”

She blinked at my vehemence but since I looked near tears she carefully asked, “What happened?”

“I really wanted the frogs, but I didn’t have any money. So I asked the librarian if I could take them and bring the money tomorrow! But she was really busy and lots of people were talking to her, and she said yes! But maybe she was saying yes to someone else? And I thought it was to me but Caitlin didn’t, but I was going to bring money tomorrow!”

The principal. Was flummoxed. This was a situation in which I clearly thought I’d done no wrong, in which she couldn’t prove I had done anything wrong, and which the librarian would almost certainly not be able to weigh in. She regarded me not with suspicion but rather vaguely confused as to how to handle me.

I got off with a slight warning that I should pay for things before taking them, despite not having been the one to take things in the first place, and the frogs were confiscated.

I was vaguely worried they’d call my parents but years later when I admitted the story to my mom as an adult she laughed herself sick and said she’d never gotten a call.