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#(i didn’t romance either of them)
mossy-aro · 5 months
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being aspec is weird sometimes because exploring my boundaries and (a)sexuality in my own way is such a personal and normal thing to do as you go through life but it feels like if you do something or experience something differently than aspec people are ‘supposed to’ it puts the validity of your whole identity in danger
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eanishu · 1 month
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high ponytail loves of my life
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okurrroye · 4 months
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The wait for percabeth to finally happen is going to be excruciating and I might as well kill myself now because I can’t wait that long
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foundfamilynonsense · 2 years
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When people say “Anakin was the only healthy jedi because he didn’t hold in his emotions” about the jedi it’s the same thing as saying “it’s healthy to fight in a relationship because otherwise you’re holding it in.”
No! That is NOT how it works. Good GOD that’s not how it works.
Yes, it’s not healthy to HOLD IN your grievance in a romantic relationship. If you hate the way your partner does this you should tell them. Don’t just be angry in secret. But you shouldn’t fight about it! Being angry and blowing up is not the only alternative to holding in emotions!
Don’t be like “I hate it when you do this you do it on purpose just to spite me I fucking hate you” to which they’ll reply “you’re a freak what’s wrong with you I’m going to do it more now”
Perhaps instead you say “hi I wanted to let you know that you putting your shoes here is bothering me and I was wondering if you’d be willing to put them here instead” and they say “the problem with putting them there is that the dog finds them” and you work on a solution. Obviously that’s a stupid example but that’s what people mean when they say it’s the two of you against the problem not against each other.
So… sure. It’s not healthy to repress emotion. But the Jedi aren’t repressing emotions!! That’s what ANAKIN’s doing. Blowing up and keeping it in are not the only two paths.
It’s like how “fighting” in a relationship is not the same as “discussing issues” in a relationship.
So instead of saying… “my master is overly critical. He never listens. He doesn’t understand! It’s not fair!” To someone who’s not even your master. You go to their master and say things like “sometimes you are very critical and I feel like I am better than you are giving me credit for” and they say “the reason I haven’t suggested you take the trials is because sometimes you rush in without thinking” so you say “I rush in because I feel like I’m ready but I’ll work on that, though I could benefit from more freedom” and have an actual human conversation (less robotic than this but whatever). That’s not suppressing emotions.
Instead of thinking to yourself “I’m not ready to train an apprentice because I’m not fully trained myself and I’m scared of failing” but keeping that to yourself or screaming at your apprentice and therefore sharing your fears with him. Master Yoda urges Kanan to “of this decision, honest you must be” and Kanan says, outloud to Yoda “I’m not sure of my decision to train Ezra, not because of him or his abilities, because of me. Because of who I am” and “I sense his abilities are growing faster than I can teach him” and Yoda asks “you sense or you fear?” And Kanan doesn’t deny it.
Notice how this conversation is calm and pleasant? But is there any emotional repression? No! Kanan is actively talking and addressing his emotions to someone who can help him. He’s not bottling it up and then yelling about it to people who aren’t involved in the issue. Hes not letting this fear control him and make him a worse master. He’s also very open with this fear to Ezra, and tells him that he’s not sure if he’s got the abilities to teach him all the time. Instead of brooding in silence he is open with his emotions, and they don’t control him. He controls them.
But Anakin just yells at Padme a little, and says absolutely zero to Obi Wan about this. Until they are, say, facing off with a Sith Lord and Anakin decides he’s done taking orders from Obi-Wan and runs in and gets zapped, leaving Obi-Wan to fight him alone. So… how is Obi-Wan supposed to help if Anakin doesn’t state why he’s being so unpredictable? So all Obi-Wan sees is Anakin being rash and stupid, and holds him back. And Anakin gets mad about being held back and round and round they go. We see Obi-Wan being open with Anakin. We see him state the problems (we know Anakin knows the problems, he tells Padme about them) and we also see him praise Anakin to his face, often. It’s Anakin who refuses to communicate and just represses and yells.
They don’t repress anger. They address conflict before it makes them angry. They think about why they have anger and overcome it. And if you’re in the middle of a fight and get angry they have the emotional maturity to take a deep breath and focus on what’s at hand. Then after they can take that anger and address it with master Yoda or whomever.
If you think the only two options are to repress or fight and yell and throw a fit…. That’s not great. Being calm and explaining yourself. Addressing issues.
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screen grabs of frank in the new Koyo music video for ‘You’re On The List (Minus One)’, find the video here
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whoever made the choice (probably him) to have him in sunglasses for this video made a mistake cause they make him extra cunty
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waspgrave · 11 months
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Rip but twc book 3 came out and everyone got quiet after 2 weeks, huh….
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thedeadthree · 7 months
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🌸💕
I FEEL OKAY !!!!!!!!! I FEEL FINE ! REALLY!!!!!! THE HUG SCENE HAD NO EFFECT ON ME IM NOT CRYING!
#leg plays bg3#bg3 spoilers#leg.txt#crying on the floor!! and crying on the floor bc i fixed the save shenanigans!!!!!!! yay!#godd okay the scene i almost feel like in the case of yana was that she didn’t want him to hear her thoughts skjzjzhz#how she’s morning someone she doesn’t remember no one in particular hehe <3 so she chose to hug him instead !!#i yelled about it in twt but I found a mod where you can wear g*ortashs gauntlet and it gave me THOUGHTS !!#and i thought what if he made one for yana (it’s more decoration than functional but yk !!!!) and the BRAINWORMS I GOT FROM THAT#the thought she is the way she is with ast is things she instinctively remembers from him and its SO#even the unhinged can be soft and mourn lovers they don’t recall bc I SAID SO!!!!!!! she has range!!#oc: anasyana an enaviryn#ITLL hurt like NO ONES BUSINESS when i save to write the scene where their tryst comes to an end RAHH#did it mean anything was it just her imitating what she had with someone else to bring back a semblance of what she lost WHAT WAS IT 🥀😵‍💫#i mean either way they’ll both walk away better and worse for it in the end so!!#but i mean i think he is resigned to that their history was something he knew would be an undertaking to keep up with ✨😭🥀#(though his resignation won’t last long as it’s the one where he ascends so it’s fight night at wyrms for yanas hand or something 🥀😵‍💫)#(i mean it’s not like THAT that ofc but the besties get it <3)#not to worry vampire pookie you’ll get the sweetest romance ever with sarspira JUST U WAIT MY LOVE!!#oh i cant wait for her playthrough RAHH i am so excited it’s the one i have planned where sarspira’ll resist her urge ill be EMOTIONAL#in that one scene especially where yk he sits with them the whole night while they’re tied trying to zero them GAHH
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pussy-ache · 1 year
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lmao. awkward
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vagueiish · 4 months
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anyone else have an issue where seeing too much of other people’s ocs (and the creations involving/depicting them and how others respond to said characters) make you wanna give up fucking around with your own characters? no? just me?
#some days i’m good and cool and wanna do all the things with… well it’s just one right now. so my boy#seeing other people’s art and shit of their characters is…it’s cool. inspiring#some days though i want to throw my son in a fucking blender and give up on this shit forever#seeing people get comments like ‘ough#your character is so fuckin cool!’#or ‘i love your character paired with the character you’re pairing them with it works so gooood’#and then it’s crickets for me like#oh. okay. i clearly suck at this because if i didn’t people would love him as much as i do on a good day#and the it makes the fun romance stuff not fun because#huh. if nobody likes him - if he’s that shitty - it makes no sense that anyone would fall in love with him in-universe either#he’s clearly got nothing going for him#he clearly sucks ass. and not in a fun way#it feels shitty#and i know i barely put anything out there so of course nobody knows anything about him but#what’s the point?#when all these other awesome characters exist. like putting a shitty child’s drawing up next to a leyendecker#except the child who made the shitty drawing is actual 3* years old and has been doing this for a minute and so has no fucking excuse#to suck other than they’re not smart or creative enough for this shit#i can’t have fun with it if he’s actually shitty#and my only point of reference is other people’s ocs and how people react to them and he’s not like anything like them#because again. if he’s as shitty as i feel i don’t wanna put the effort into any more creation with him#or at all really#can someone fuckin cut this desire to create out of my head? so i stop feeling like this and no longer am at risk#of putting absolute fucking garbage into the world?#it’d be more likely than getting over this dumb comparison bullshit that permeates every other facet of my life as well…#or. no. please. someone give me advice on how to stop feeling like this#i want to keep creating and playing with my guy#character stuff#oc#to the void with love
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louisloulouie · 2 years
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Without trying to sound hypocritical, I enjoy watching Game of Thrones and now I like House of the Dragon, but I cannot handle people actively in the fandom who ship things, because it all ends up being pairings with creepy/pedophilic age differences or it’s incest
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lady-tortilla-chip · 1 year
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Tbh yall within the realm of a romance novel I really don’t feel that Tamlin is abusive.
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aroaessidhe · 1 year
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2023 reads // twitter thread  
Never Been Kissed
adult demi mm romance
a film studies graduate managing his town’s dying drive in theatre is desperate to save it, and tries to convince a reclusive local director to show her lost media film
also his ex crush/best friend is the new social media manger there
#never been kissed#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#ok first i was looking at GR to write my little blurb and it and all the reviews ONLY mention the romance plot none of the old movie subplot#that was the only interesting thing to me but i guess the romance part is more significant#the set up of the romance plot which is all mentioned in the blurb was kinda stupid and unnecessary#like i don’t  get the conflict between them at the start. lmao what was the point in the email thing. just to make it immediately awkward?#would the history & suddenly in the same job not do that just as well?#i was fully expecting the other email guy to show up late in the book or something but that was just. never mentioned again#the mc is. pretty infuriating tbh#half the conflict at the start is them not getting a chance to have. conversation because the MC keeps stopping the LI from telling him anyt#thing. either by saying “i don’t want to talk” or just cutting him off with what he assumed he’s gonna say.#even later in the book he keeps cutting him off which still causes problems!!!!!#“he promised we could communicate but was keeping a secret” bitch you never let him tell you anything#alloro people are so annoying. also he’s like an annoying film fan. like not in the misogynistic way but….#+ he’s come out as gay but feels like something isn’t quite right identifies as queer (idk why he can’t use gay….what’s with people thinking#that asexuality and gayness are mutually exclusive identities). like yay for queer also but?? both are true#overall: sure i guess?? i liked the grumpy old lady. everything else i didn’t care about much#uh there’s also a ‘totem pole’ misuse reference somewhere in there
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ziracona · 2 years
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Alistair being on the chopping block in Inquisition is anti-Bitch legislation. TuT Like even if you literally kill Leliana in DAO, she survives miraculously through Inquisition no if’s ands or buts. Morrigan is also invincible. Zevran gets dicier treatment, and yes girls can date Leliana and we do BUT. Morrigan is to dudes what Alistair is to the ladies and uh??? If you have a kid with her you can be together forever. If you date Leliana and she becomes DIVINE, like even a fate that is utterly optional, AND should end your romance??? She just changes the law so the Pope can date so the HoF can still fuck her??? But god forbid a non human noble have wanted to romance Alistair or a human noble or any other girl wanted him to have some actual choice in what he does with his life for literally the first time since birth, because if you do, you have to kill your husband or one of your most beloved PCs of all time. The guy romances don’t get this treatment! This is bullshit. It’s anti bitches players legislation and in my incredibly heated essay on catering to their male power fantasies and going even after their female players essay, I will
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madigoround · 2 years
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I’m screaming I bought the ticket for the Raleigh show I’ll be going to see my favorite band for the first time in two days 😱😍
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gojonanami · 4 months
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❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
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❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞
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✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K
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It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 
But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 
It was him. 
You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 
“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 
He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 
“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 
Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 
He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 
And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 
Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 
And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 
And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 
Fuck. 
“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 
You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 
“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 
And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 
It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 
He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 
And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 
“I would,” 
And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 
Fuck. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 
But how can you be quiet? 
The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 
And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 
And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 
He’s huge. 
The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.
“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 
“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 
“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”
Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 
And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 
He was too much. 
“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 
“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 
“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 
“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 
And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 
He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 
That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 
“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 
He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 
And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 
“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 
And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 
You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 
How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 
“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 
And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 
“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 
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The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 
And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…
You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 
“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 
“What are you—” 
“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 
“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 
“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 
“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 
“Mahito—“ 
“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 
Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 
You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 
His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 
“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?
Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 
“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 
“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 
This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 
“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 
“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 
“I will,” 
“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.
“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 
“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 
And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 
“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 
No time like the present, right?
“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 
And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 
“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 
“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 
“Have another lesson?” 
And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 
He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 
And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 
Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 
And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 
“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 
“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 
One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 
“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 
“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 
His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 
You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 
And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 
Your mouth runs dry. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 
Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 
“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 
And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 
His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 
His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 
He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 
And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 
Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 
He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 
“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.
“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 
And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 
“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 
“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 
Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 
“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 
The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 
“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 
“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 
God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 
~~~
The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 
“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 
You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 
You were picking up your boyfriend. 
He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 
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note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!
tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious
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themostfinalofpams · 2 months
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If I had a nickel for every time I got dumped and later came across my ex’s profile on a dating app and they were now interested in non-monogamy, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened twice.
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