#required listening to understand me i think

[hrrtshape]

anywhere everywhere all at once.

it might as well be 3:42 am in new york, a wednesday, a slow september. in one version of my life, i am asleep. in another, i am wide awake, watching headlights stretch themselves thin against my ceiling. in another, i am stepping off a plane where the air smells different and the signs don’t make sense. in another, i am standing in a kitchen that isn't mine, listening to someone laugh in a language i don’t fully understand. elsewhere, in some other time zone, some other life, my presence is being requested, required, expected, wished for.

maybe some day people will ask me where i live like it’s a real question. like there’s an answer that could fit in a postcode or a utility bill. i live in the backseat of a car where the driver is telling me about the one that got away. i live in the fluorescent purgatory of airports where time is measured in last calls and final boards. i live in borrowed apartments where the sheets smell like someone else's perfume, in voicemail boxes i have forgotten the passwords to. i live in places i have never been but know by heart. anywhere. everywhere. all at once.

i like to think. think that someone in shanghai is wondering why i never called them back. someone in berlin is sitting across from an untouched glass of wine. someone in buenos aires is holding a postcard i don’t remember writing. i am a misdial, an almost, a ghost in the periphery of someone else's memory. i am not sentimental, but sometimes i think about all the places i might have have to stay five minutes longer.

what if i've read all the books, but only in transit? perhaps only in waiting rooms and boarding gates and places where i did not belong but was, momentarily, allowed to exist. i know how the story ends. but knowing has never stopped anything from happening.

so i keep moving. not because it’s profound, not because it’s poetic, but because the alternative is stopping, and i am not sure i would know how. somewhere, a plane is boarding. somewhere, a keycard is being handed to me with a nod. somewhere, the night is thinning, the city is slowing, and i am already elsewhere.

[starryschemer]

Unspoken Desires

Pairing: Hwang In-ho x reader, Triangle Guard x reader Summary: A Triangle Guard's defiance is taking a turn on In-ho, the cold leader, brings you to his office. As the power struggle between you both escalates, it turns into a mix of hate and desire, leaving you to question your own feelings as In-ho shows his control. Warnings: Power dynamics, emotional manipulation, hate/desire dynamics, dark themes, sexual content, strong language, smut Word Count: 1,358

Never in your life have you been so furious, filled with hatred.

The games had pushed you to your limits, causing people to die with every twist and turn. However, today, something seemed to shift. Every small thing the front man did seemed to grind your gears more than it usually did. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke. It was like nails on a chalkboard.

You were summoned to his office. It was meant to be a routine check. He was, after all, the man pulling the strings. You were just a triangle guard in the games. Well that is at least what you thought. He was always so distant, cold, calculating. But today? You noticed that he was acting differently. It was a mixture of amusement, malice, and something that made your stomach twist.

You barged into his office, a sharp breath escaping from your lips as you locked eyes with him. His cold gaze was uneasy to look at, his posture rigid as he took a sip of whisky, casually sitting on a couch, watching you like a hawk.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice sounded like silk, smooth but laced with an undertone of warning. Patting next to him.

You clenched your fists tightly, resisting the urge to lash out. You had every single right to be livid with him, but you learned through the years that showing any weakness in front of In-ho was a major mistake. Instead, you crossed your arms against your chest, staring bullets into him, standing your ground.

“I don’t take orders from you,” you said with defiance, you sounded stern, even if your heart was pounding heavily.

In-ho’s lips curved into a smirk, enjoyment dancing in his eyes. “Oh, but you will. They always do.”

God, you hated the way he spoke, the way his words were so arrogant, as if he owned everyone and everything. It was the smugness that made your blood boil every time you had to be near that filth.

“What is this about?’ you asked, leaning against a wall, refusing to listen to him. “You know I'm not here for your tiny games.”

In-ho’s eyes narrowed, his eyes flashing with darkness. “You think you can act like this Y/N?” sipping more whisky. “Not listening to me without consequences for your actions.”

His words hung in the air, filled with a threat that made your pulse spike for a moment. You knew exactly what he meant. In-ho had a lot of power, so much that he could easily make your life a living hell. But you weren’t going to let this intimidate you. Not now. Not ever.

“If you think I am afraid of you, you are mistaken.” you bite back, stepping closer, narrowing the space between you and him.

In-ho placed the glass down, slowly standing up. You noticed his cold mask slipping slightly as his eyes flickered with something darker, more evil like. “You should be.”

Before you had the chance to respond, he took a step towards you, closing most of the distance between you. His presence loomed over you, his build alone was enough to make anyone feel small. But not for you. Not this time.

“Do you really think you can act like this, stand here and disregard me?” In-ho’s voice was threatening, low, as he stepped even closer, his hand grabbed your wrist with a startling force.

You tensed with fury for his sudden actions. “LET GO OF ME,” you yelled, trying with all your might to yank your wrist from his firm grasp.

However, he didn’t even budge. “No Y/N. Not until you can understand that disobedience requires consequences.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, not from the fear but from the tension that shot through the air. You both knew what this was about-your defiance, his need to show you just how much power he had. This had been building for months, years even, as you clashed with him at every turn. Today, however, it would reach his breaking point.

“Stop pretending like you have any control over me In-ho,” you spat, refusing to back down.

His hand tightened around your wrist, pulling you into his chest. His voice dropped to a whisper, a dangerous rasp. “I do have control over you. And I'll prove it.”

The words jolted through your body, a mixture of anger and an unexpected need of desire. But you couldn’t-wouldn’t-let him win. Not like this.

With a sharp tug, In-ho slams your back against the cold metal wall. His body now pressed flush against yours, feeling the heat of his body, trapping you with his weight. Your chest heaved, every part of your body was on high alert.

“Let me go,” you warned, your voice low.

In-ho curled his lips into a smirk, his breath now hot against your ear as he whispered, “You think you can win?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. His lips crashed onto yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was demanding, rough, as if he was punishing you for your disobedience-and yet, you were responding despite everything. Every ounce of hatred you had bled into that kiss, each movement filled with raw emotion. You wanted him. You hated him.

The kiss deepened, much harder now, as he used his body to press you up against the wall, pinning you in place, his strength was overwhelming. In-ho’s hands roamed over your body, possessive, rough, taking what he wanted.

“Stop,” you gasped, your body betraying you. It responded to his touch, heat pooling between your legs, betraying your resentment for the pleasure coursing through your veins.

In-ho pulled back, looking down at you with a spark in his eyes. “You can’t lie like this to yourself. You want this.”

You hated him-but you couldn’t deny the desire that surged through you every time he made you feel weak under his control, every time he touched you.

Before you could protest more than you have, In-ho’s hands pulled the zipper of your jumpsuit down to your waist. “You’re mine now.” he said, a low growl in his voice, opening the space before he tore the fabric of your white shirt from your body.

You gasped, your chest was now exposed to him as he pushed you even further into the wall. There was no room for you to escape now, no room for any hesitation. You were well and truly trapped between his body and the cold concrete, and you hated that you couldn’t escape it, that you didn’t want to escape it.

His lips found your neck, biting down hard enough to cause blood as he tore the rest of your clothes away. The sheer brutality of it all made your pulse race. He was in utter control, using your body as his plaything, but the power shift was noticeable. In-ho had finally pushed you too far—and yet, you couldn’t help but want more.

“You’re nothing but a tool, you do know that right?” he muttered, his voice dark and dangerous. “But I’ll make you remember who’s in charge.”

The words stung you hard, but there was something in the way he said it, something that you want him more.

His hands were everywhere on your body, feeling you all over, spinning you around then pulling you close. You feel the very noticeable dent in his pants on your backside.

“Stay still, got it.” his breath hot and heavy filled with desire, you didn’t want to fight back anymore, you wanted his touch, you craved it.

In-ho didn’t give you time to respond, quickly, he ripped his pants off, before with one brutal thrust, he took you.

The pain was as sharp as a knife, but it quickly subsided into pure pleasure, a fire that blazed between the both of you. There was no love in this-only hate. Only domination. Only power and you were losing.

“You’ll learn to obey me,” he growled against your ear as he slammed into you with a force that took your breath away. “And when you do, you’ll beg for more. I know you will?”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed my first smut fanfic, if you want more smut please request them. If you would for this fanfic to be a miniseries. Maximum 5 chapters let me know and I will happily continue with this In-ho storyline. Credits for dividers: anitalenia, strangergraphics-archive

[transfemme-shelterdog]

As a Jewish person, it's really not a good look for you, as a non-jewish person to be arguing against Jewish people when they are trying to educate you on the meaning of a Jewish word.

Zionism, in a Jewish context, literally just means the belief that Jewish people should be able to exist in their ancestral homeland. It has nothing to do with whether or not Palestinians can also exist on that land, and in fact most Jewish Zionists want a future where both Palestinians and Jews are able to peacefully coexist in the region in some way.

The word has been appropriated by non-jewish people, and they generally use it to mean "I support the state of Israel and it's actions" but that's not what the word actually means.

Jewish Voice for Peace is not actually Jewish. Not that they don't have Jewish members, but generally those Jewish members are not connected to Jewish community or culture, and are outnumbered by the non-Jewish members. JVP regularly messes up on and misrepresents basic Jewish things in a way they would not if they were actually Jewish (like mis-spelling the text and having it backwards on their seder plate). JVP is generally considered an antisemitic hate group by Jews who are actually involved in Jewish life.

Also people weren't calling you a Nazi, they were implying you are antisemitic which like. When you speak over Jewish people about our own words and community and culture that is in fact antisemitic, although I genuinely don't think you are trying to be antisemitic. I just also can't fault a Jewish person for getting upset over your refusal to listen and learn.

If you do not know enough to speak on these subjects then don't get involved in the conversation. This conflict, and the history behind it, is complex and requires nuance to avoid being bigoted in one direction or another, and as someone who is not directly involved or impacted by the conflict you have a responsibility to do better than you have been about doing research before responding, and listening to members of all of the different communities involved in the conflict. Which includes letting Zionist Jews explain what their perspective on the situation actually is (instead of what others have told you it is) and understanding that it is not your place as someone who isn't Jewish to tell those people that they are wrong.

Those of us within the Jewish community hold our own accountable. If you try to step in, you're more likely to perpetuate antisemitism and make things worse rather than actually make anything better.

Well, let's see, I have had two self described Zionists on here call me a "he" as well as a Nazi.

The way I see it, is you don't deserve the time of fucking day to educate me on the usage of a word when you're being a transphobic shit bag, and calling the grand-daughter of an actual Holocaust survivor who studied extremism for a total of 12 academic years (3 degrees at once, 4 years a piece, makes 12) a Nazi.

And yes, they did call me a fucking Nazi

(OP is me here)

Maybe it's not a good look for you defending transphobic assholes?

If your side is transphobic assholes, then maybe you need to better evaluate the company that you keep?

[pyromance]

it's kind of my song actually

[transmasc-rose]

One more AU to propose: at the end of Brotherhood, taking ac3's declaration of how the Apple works as fact, Desmond sees the satellite not working, sees Abstergo failing--and rather than kill Lucy, either manages to turn and kill no one (unlikely, given Juno's influence) or ends up stabbing Shaun and/or Rebecca instead, with the idea that maybe, if he talked to the Templars, he could make them understand, that their plan is flawed, that they need to try something else--

Because if the Templars, in all their money and planning and resources are failing, how could the Assassins succeed?

(This would royally piss off Juno.)

I don't think this would go well. I think, even if he and Lucy succeeded, made the Templars change plans, and that worked, the result would be bittersweet at best. A lot of people dead or under their control, with the Assassins being in an even worse state. Power granted to the Templars that make them rise even higher.

There's a good chance they don't succeed at all.

But he'll never know if things would go better if he'd chosen the other path.

(Maybe there's a world where he does convince the Assassins and Templars to work together on this. But that's a much kinder world than the games see fit to give him. So that is out of his grasp.)

[girlivealwaysbean]

so tired of being a shitty bandaid for my parents' loneliness. like have u ever considered you passed your curse to me and some days i feel so lonely it's like i can't breathe around the emptiness in my chest????

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

2am thinking about aglaya lilich who executed people without any pity had an insane amount of power but also always knew she's just a doomed marionette with no actual will

"The desire to put people out of their misery by restoring the broken logic of the world is what drives her to action."

"There is an eternally predetermined order by which everything goes as it should along a predetermined path."

This is from patho 2 which i didn't play but fr..

"So how do you build a perfect world if you're going to have less than perfect people living in it?

The Inquisition has no answer to that question. All I can do is protect the system, keep it from collapsing and burying millions of lives under its rubble."

"Betrayal is death. Next. Treason is betrayal. Betrayal is death. Left. Next. Death. Next. Death. Anybody not on any of these cases?There are no other crimes. There is no evil, no murder, cannibalism or violence. There's nothing worse than betraying someone who's trusted you. And everyone with a confession like that goes straight to the left. It's death. It's out of the question."

"Are you kidding me? I'm an automaton. This is an unsolvable city. I don't know how to do that. Listen. I don't have much time left. If I can't solve this city, I have, uh. ampoule. They sent me to do this on purpose. There's no winning this thing. "Resolve" means… well, bring the matter to an end. Inquisition. You know what I mean? It was - and now it isn't."

_

"Aglaia is a God-fighter. Those whom she touches begin to rebel against the established order of things. At the same time, Aglaia is the voice of the law. She sees the universe as a machine. She asserts that the logic of the universe is above all, and to hell with polyhedrons. God-fighting for her is also the restoration of justice, the law of nature. Those she touches begin to realize that there are limits to what is possible and one must obey them."

[timeisacephalopod]

Lol out of curiosity I looked up my old job on Indeed and yes they ARE urgently hiring for the position and if I didn't get treated like dog shit for expecting a stress free work environment with reasonable expectations and not wildly cunty management who seemed to be under the impression they were doing THE most important job at THE most important store ever maybe I wouldn't have just not shown up one day 🤷🏻‍♀️ asshole thing to do to my poor coworkers but I didn't even have the energy to quit right after spending a month and a half feeling deeply surveilled at every aspect of my job lest I get another frivolous writeup no one else got for doing their jobs worse than me so fine. You want me gone enough to threaten my livelihood and SHRUG when I point out I have rent to pay, fine, but I wouldn't put up with that behavior from anyone in my life generally and I LIKE those people so my JOB pulling bullshit? Oh hell no, if I wouldn't take it from people I CHOOSE to be around on purpose I ain't taking shit from a fucking JOB. I refuse to be in a work environment that's unaware it's a GROCERY STORE, not a 5 star establishment frequented exclusively by world leaders or some shit. Like Sam, my job is cooking food at a fucking sobeys and you're acting as if I'm disarming bombs it's so important get reasonable priorities and standards for employees and then apply them equally to managers and not EXCLUSIVELY minimum wage staff 🙄

Which is funny because my new job everyone seems surprised with how fast I've caught on to stuff down to a coworker yesterday telling me he thought I worked in a shoppers prior to the pharmacy I'm in because Im catching on so quick. This isn't unusual for me either, some time in the last five or so years I've found every workplace I'm at I end up being heavily relied on because I'm good at my job, so fucking sucks to suck for sobeys because it took me some week or so to be consistently praised for being better at the job than the guy I replaced only for them to throw that out because they think management should be able to do whatever the fuck they want while they shove minimum wage staff under a fucking microscope to ensure they're doing their shit right and even that isn't consistent. They punished me exclusively because I did not lay down to be treated as a door mat and dished the treatment I got handed. If you treat me like shit I WILL treat you the way you treat me, no worse, and sometimes a little better because I don't lose my moral standards in that treatment either. Just because I'm being an ass doesn't mean I'm willing to do whatever the fuck, just enough to ensure that the person who's decided I'm their new plaything knows that'll be going both ways so fuck off. I've never had a job so willing to keep on shit management they had at LEAST a dozen meetings with regarding performance and I was the one who got punished for being frustrated about that. But I will take a new significantly less stressful job 🙌🏻

[sateurn]

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

These sobs really limited my tags?????

I have so many more thoughts this is so so much less than 1/2. Broski. Big dislike

[choatic-bumblebee-agenda]

Watching multiple people collaborating to try and do a job I used to do by myself in less than half the time

[rigelmejo]

2-4-2025 updates:

Japanese Study Plans in the Long Term:

I'm glad I'm done with glossika japanese. I think it was mostly a waste of time. But at least I've confirmed it to myself ToT. To do, eventually: listen to japanese stuff! I'm listening to Final Fantasy X and Death Note japanese on and off right now, and Nihongo Con Teppei and Comprehensible Japanese youtube. And lets plays. I am not focusing on japanese lately though.

As a note, I do find 2 to 5 word phrases easier to understand in Japanese lately, like in listening to Death Note or playing Yakuza 7 Like a Dragon and listening to the dialogue. It's sort of where my Chinese skill felt when I could start to follow regular everyday topic main ideas because of key words. I can pick out that Death Note is saying "god, world is boring, you're home, interesting, people think that..., the police... the suspect is located at..." a bunch of phrase chunks that in combination with a visual on screen or my memory of the plot, is enough to follow what is going on. I am not sure if this improvement in understanding is due to anything new glossika taught me, or more likely if it's just because using glossika japanese meant I listened to japanese for 128 hours because of it. I think it's more that I have just listened to japanese more. I also think, picking up new words from context, is definitely easier if you already know the media/plot of the thing you're using to pick up words from. With Chinese, I re-watched Guardian and Word of Honor a LOT in chinese after watching with english subs the first time, and knowing the plot already definitely helped me learn more words in my chinese rewatches.

Chinese Listening and Dreaming Spanish Experiment:

I am focusing on chinese listening, with a goal of 1 hour listening a day or more. So far I am easily hitting this goal, and sometimes listening for over 1 hour (2-4 hours). I have been listening to MoDu by priest audiobook - with a personal challenge to listen to the whole audiobook before March 7 when the cdrama comes back! It will be fun to see how much more I can understand by the end of the audiobook. Right now I'm being a perfectionist, and I've been relistening to the first 5 chapters all week in an attempt to first recognize every single scene I'm listening to, then catch as many word meanings as I can per scene. Which yes, I realize is an endless task, and I should just move onto the next chapters soon. I have to fight those perfectionist tendencies! I can actually listen to the audio drama fairly well (in terms of recognizing scenes I'm listening to), so I'm partly using the audiobook because there's more unknown words to hear and therefore more unknown words to learn, and partly because if I tune out when listening I can do that during the description parts (such as when working on emails) and focus more during the dialogues which I understand more of.

(A note if you listen to MoDu like me: 1. the audiobook is online on ximalaya, and bilibili. 2. the audio drama is english subbed on youtube i think, if that's what you're looking for. 3. I think I'm recognizing as many words as I am because I have read MoDu in english, and the first 20 chapters in chinese, before. So I remember a lot of particular details and names, that helps me recognize what scenes I'm listening to).

I've also been listening to The Untamed condensed audio, which is much easier for me to follow most of the words. I recently studied 500 most common chinese words in Clozemaster, and it was very easy, and as far as I can tell my memory of words is still very good if I can see the hanzi and it's in a short sentence. It's in longer sentences (novels) and in longer sentences with only audio where I'm failing to recognize words I 'know from studying.' So I am guessing it's more useful to me to listen a ton to regular stuff, rather than drill learning materials. I hope that guess is right: because yes I could drill learning materials and review the things I know... which would be the easier thing. Instead, I'm hoping what I know just comes back after enough listening.

I am using all this listening practice to test out some of the experiences people share about doing Dreaming Spanish on r/dreamingspanish on reddit. Both 'purists' (people who only study DS exactly as recommended, with comprehensible input lessons and podcasts and no translations/look ups), and non-purists (people who studied Spanish in classes previously, look up word translations, use anki or other study notes), on the dreamingspanish subreddit mention their progress in how much what they can understand increases every few hundred hours. I want to compare the improvements I see in my own understanding after listening to chinese for 200-400 hours, to what non-purist DS learners see in terms of improvement in that time. I am comparing myself to intermediate DS learners, as I am not going to go back to the basics with Chinese and watch basic childrens-videos and comprehensible input videos. I already know enough chinese to read novels and watch shows to a overall-understanding of main-plot, so I want to compare myself to say a Spanish DS learner who already learned to read news articles/watch cartoons for kids in Spanish and then keeps listening.

My prediction: I predict vocabulary wise: that the first 100 hours of listening to chinese more, what will happen is the words I 'know from studying' get easier to recognize when listening at natural speed. Then from 200-300 hours, those words will be easier to recognize without me also thinking of the english translation. Then 300-400 hours+, I'll start learning some of the surrounding words from context. Overall comprehension wise: I think the first 100 hours of listening I will get better at comprehending isolated phrases and words, and pieces of full dialogue, enough to piece together more of what is happening each scene (which is currently where I'm at). Somewhere between 100-200 hours, after I find all overall scenes easier to recognize, I'll start understanding some full lines/full clauses, enough to pick out some specific details in each scene (such as longer appearance descriptions, if specific evidence items are described, if someone does a specific set of actions like chase then hit someone then duck). And then after 200 hours? I do not know because presumably, I'll be recognizing most of the words I 'know from studying' by then at a faster rate, so I imagine following the full plot and details will get much easier.

Somewhat unrelated, I was reading Dreaming Spanish's suggestion on how to use their lessons if you already know another romance lesson. And I found the tips could apply to me studying Spanish, or French (even though I'd argue I only 'partly' know French since I learned to read but never to fucking listen or speak etc). I know enough French to... listen to a lot of Spanish learner podcasts for beginners and understand nearly everything. I can read Spanish nonfiction like the linguistics textbook I have no problem, or wikipedia articles. I can understand Intermediate Dreaming Spanish videos no problem. I know I don't actually know a ton of words in spanish, but I can coast on understanding cognates and the broader subject something is about to guess what some details mean. My understanding of conversational Spanish is much worse - if I watch a TV show, there's a ton of words I don't know, and if a podcast goes from discussing everyday-life topics to something new I am lost, if a nonfiction topic has latin cognates I'm fine or if it's on a topic I'm already familiar with, but if it's an unknown nonfiction topic to me (like knitting) then if there's no visuals for me to look at - I'll have no idea what's being said. Dreaming Spanish's suggestion for people who already knew a romance language was to: watch intermediate Dreaming Spanish lessons if desired, Advanced lessons if the intermediate were too boring, and to watch nonfiction videos on youtube such as Ted talks about topics you're already familiar with, and vlogs on topics you're familiar with. You may need the beginner videos for the first 100 hours to get used to the new pronunciation and connecting words (or 200 hours if it's French or Portuguese), but after that you should recognize cognate words enough to move onto intermediate lessons with less pictures/slow speech, childrens cartoons, and nonfiction videos on topics you're familiar with (probably because some nonfiction has more cognates, and regardless if you're familiar with the topic you'll understand the context of what those words are being used to explain). So when I tried Dreaming Spanish a few months ago... I was right with my instinct to maybe just listen to intermediate/beginner videos, then jump to some other Spanish language stuff outside of lessons.

Now if only I could figure out how to use Comprehensible Input French (youtube) lessons to fill in my gap between French reading skill and almost 0 listening or speaking skills. T-T My gut says the strategy here would be to build from the ground up... with beginner A1 lessons, even though I can understand the B1 lessons. Because I need to correct a TON of my mental pronunciation models of words and sentences, and I want to make sure I correct a ton of the basic stuff. On the other hand... in theory, once I got used to French pronunciation (which could take 100 hours of beginning listening), I don't see why improving my French listening wouldn't work just like my Chinese listening. And with Chinese listening, I'm going right to listening to intermediate stuff that is the kind of stuff I can read. But - with Chinese I was listening from the beginning when I studied, even though my reading skills improved faster than listening, I was always listening to cdramas. With French I barely did any listening... ever. So I think there's a decent possibility French listening skills may require considerably more time to build up from the basics, compared to Chinese.

Current Study Habits:

I start work, and some time at work I start playing MoDu audiobook if work is slow. If work is busy, I start playing MoDu during lunch. Resulting in at least 1 hour listened to per work day. Then if I play video games, I press play on MoDu again (usually re-listening to chapters I've listened to recently, hence why I keep listening to the same stuff over and over...) and listen while I'm grinding levels in my video game. This adds another 30 minutes to 2 hours of listening, since I am pausing MoDu whenever the video game has a cutscene or it's own voiced dialogue. If I was commuting, or going out to run errands, I'd also listen to MoDu during at least one of the travel trips (so another 15-30 minutes), or The Untamed condensed audio.

I am hoping this will add up to 30 hours a month, or 60 hours a month if I'm lucky... and I guess 120 hours if I somehow actually managed to do a ton of it, but being realistic I don't think I should assume more than 30 hours a month when trying to make a habit of it. If I'm going to listen to the whole MoDu book before March 7 I need to kick it into gear... there's a lot of chapters and at 10-20 minutes a chapter... (lets say 45 hours for the whole book at least...)

[salemdotcom]

Why is it that every time I talk to a straight person they’re like “so how long have you been a lesbian?” And I’ll be like “Never been one. I’m not a lesbian. I am nonbinary though.” And they’ll be like “ohhhhhh I see. Wait how does being a lesbian fit in with that though.” And I’ll be like “IT DOESNT. ON ACCOUNT OF IM NOT ONE.”

[mokeonn]

Sorry about all the posts about people not educating themselves. It's a topic im deeply passionate about and have a hard time understanding the opposition on because I am a fundamentally curious person who went and practiced the research techniques I was taught so that I may research better.

Plus I have autism so "researching to understand the world around me better" comes with the territory.

[dawnwriterimagines]

The Guilty Plea

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER

Traitors Among Us (Part 1) and Innocents Among You (Part 2)

Verdict Due (Part 4) Clear Skies (Part 5)

Summary: As you're discharged from the infirmary, under watchful eye, you head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

Running your fingers along the raised, pink scar across you cheek, the feeling of it...it really looked terrible. A part of you thought it would disappear, hoped it would, but it didn't. It just became severely more noticeable. Looking at this, you knew you'd always have to think of it. You'd sport this reminder for the rest of your life.

Looking away from it, you find your own tired eyes in the mirror, you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all. You can't remember the last time you got 4 hours, let alone 8. Dark circles still surrounded them but at least the bruising and the swelling had gone down.

You couldn't recognize yourself. Not really.

This woman looked so exhausted, so frail and so goddamn angry. It was accurate, it was how you felt. All of it. So, you supposed that the mirror's reflection was the truth, this was you indeed.

"If you need another day or two, no one will ask questions."

You glance over towards your psychologist, your fucking therapist, a nice little 'gift' sent over by the bureau to check in on your mental state after your ordeal. Glaring at him through the reflection of your mirror, he sighs, putting down his pen that slaps against his notepad, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I'm going to Laswell." Ignoring his statement, you speak. "I'm ready. I'll pack up. Get back to base. Vera had me discharged from the infirmary. I can start ov--"

"Vera?"

"My nurse. You met her," you continued, annoyance spiking at the interruption. Your wrist brace squeaking quietly under the pressure of your fist tightening beneath the table.

"Right..."

"Do you listen to a word I say outside of...my 'trauma'?" You wonder, bluntly.

Your psychologist blinks, surprised, before clearing his throat, appalled. "If you feel I can be more attentive to your state of well-being throughout our process, than by all means--"

"Oh, so 'no'?" you lean back into your seat, a strained laugh leaving you. His lips press together and you continue before he can find the words. "Because whenever I mention leaving this fucking team, you either adjust our schedule for another two weeks or suggest hypnotic therapy, as if I need anyone else digging around to fuck up my mental state."

"I never meant to imply--"

"Oh, you implied it," you interrupted, gritting your teeth. "I know what I want. And I want off Task Force 141."

He taps at the leather of his notebook. "Scars heal, just remember that, Ms. (L/n). The reminders of your experience shouldn't have to haunt you."

"It's not the scars, I've had my share way before this," you admitted, rising to your feet. You exhale deeply that tells to the effort of it, the steel gear hinges along your leg braces shift with your change of position. Still getting use to them. "It's the person."

"Has she changed, you think?" the psychologist begins to write, getting somewhere.

"She doesn't exist anymore."

Finally, placing the mirror down and onto the side table, you pushed off of the table, rolling your IV pole along with you. Passing the chair your psychologist sits on, he closes his notebook with a frustrated huff, looking over his shoulder. "Session over for you already, Ms. (L/n)?" he sighs. "We've still got the hour."

"I'm done," you take the knob in your hand. Turning.

In more ways than one.

"You understand that, informing your captain on your leave is required of you. Have you spoken to any of them, in the last few weeks?" he spoke up, quickly. "I'm sure giving them a space to open up, share from their view--"

"Why should I care--"

"--will give you better understanding, better clarity of the situation they were in--

Appalled. "What the fuck?" Jamming the door closed with a loud, shuttering thud, you whip around. "IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM!" you could just rip your hair out. "Who--who says that to someone?!"

Your psychologist sits there, eyes wide in confusion. "What--"

"Christ, can you hear me? Can you--can you see me? I've got metal plates in my spine, braces holding my knees in place and nerve damage that'll never heal! Who gives a fuck about them!" your skin feels red hot, your face twisted in rage. "I gave my life! My life to this! And then I'm tortured, I'm threatened, drugged and beaten by my own team, my f--my family for eight fucking years..."

You continue with a heavy chest. "And I'm supposed to invite them for dinner to talk and listen them bitch and moan about why they thought it was necessary to beat me to death for two weeks?! Fuck you!" you spat. "I don't owe them anything!"

"That's not what I was trying to say, Ms. (L/N). I apologize, I overstepped. Come sit down--"

"Of course you meant it," you interrupted, mock humor. "Don't be a pussy, own up to it. Revel in your truth. Be tter yet--" you snatch a journal from the cabinet. Tossing it his way. "Make a note of it."

Turning the knob, you leave the room with a slam of the metal door.

---

You were officially famous. On the base, you were now a legend.

A story that would be mentioned and told at lunch for months. Probably years.

First, you were a rat. Next, you were innocent. This was the most gossip any of those in service had ever seen in their years of service.

An interesting reminder to those in service that you weren't safe off duty either.

You learned a few days ago that there was an update put into the interrogational unit, something about how to properly go about dissecting evidence and being on the lookout for enemy spies in the militia.

You guessed you had been told about it in an effort to be appeased by the thought that the head of control paid attention to anything beyond their own noses for once. But, you had little to no faith in a system that's nearly killed you on and off the field by now, so it didn't matter.

You doubted the new rules would be followed though, there was a plethora of things they'd done to you in that cell that were both illegal and unsanctioned. Most of all, that were expected towards an enemy, a prisoner of war at best, and not a fellow marine.

You arrive at the housing quarters, swiping your key card, pulling the handle and entering the wing. Immediately, you're greeted by a dozen eyes, conversations stopping short and clothes ruffling to silence, suddenly whispers fill the space and eyes turn away.

"Oh, god, it's her..." says one man in the far corner.

"Shut the fuck up, man!" came a harsh whisper back.

"I didn't know it was that bad..."

All those eyes on you, makes you pause in your step, looking around at all of your fellow soldiers, the men and women you've served with for years. Many you recognized, ate with, fought beside that turned their backs to you now. Out of respect? Out of distaste, morale, nerves, pity, it all didn't matter. It all felt the same.

The wheels attached to your IV pole suddenly sounded much too loud on the polished flooring, as you walked down the hall as fast as you were able to.

Breathing out deeply, you get to an elevator, pushing on the button, once, twice, three times, just open goddamn it.

With a ding, the metal doors open, and suddenly you're aware that people could be in the elevator, they could be in this elevator, he could be in this elevator. Your eyes flicker down to the floor, your grip on the pole of your iv tightens, your shoulders stiffen, waiting for a blow that will never come.

You stand there as the doors open up, the small space empty, the metal walls reflect only her and a streak of lighting from the ceiling.

Looking up slowly, finally taking a breath, before sliding the iv up and onto the elevator, following it as you press your floor number along the way.

The ride up is fast, a little rumble as it stops, and then the doors open. Faster than you were prepared for.

Peeking out down the hallway, luckily no one to bump into, which you were thankful for. But, it didn't make this hall any less haunting. You'd been cornered in this same hall, you could recall being hauled out of the room after the solid handle of a knife hits your temple.

You don't go down fast enough, whipping around as you stumble to take the wrist of your attacker, mostly for balance, it's Price. In shock, you're unprepared as Johnny's arm encircle your neck, locking you into position as you both stumble backwards onto the floor. He blocks your airways, hushing you harshly as you struggle, feet kicking out and your vision blurring as your team surrounds you. Your family.

That was quite the headache to wakeup with afterwards.

You hadn't quite remembered until now. Being back served as a hell of a kickstart to your memory.

Just a few more reasons to get the fuck off of 141.

Getting off the elevators, the metal doors sliding closed behind you, you make your way down the hall. The polished flooring creates a subtle squeak through the wheels of your iv pole, your hand absently running over the fading stitches along your side.

Passing the shadows of your tortured memory, the doorway of the office was closed, locked.

You pass Kyle's room.

Johnny's.

Finally, you rush up to the next room on the left, grabbing the handle, before beginning to twist, but then you're yanking your hand back as if the metal had burned you. Your back ramming into the back wall, catching yourself, this wasn't your room.

It was Simon's.

You'd spent hours, days, in that room. More than your own.

Why wouldn't you? You were about to get married to the man. You had more in this room than you had in yours.

Sharp breaths leave you, shivering in your effort to keep yourself together, your head goes back into the wall, swallowing down the ache in your chest.

You wait, muscles tensed and your body pressing back into the wall, hoping it'd absorb you if that door opens. Listening for every sound, any pin drop, even an exhale from beyond that doorway. Luckily, Simon seemed to be out for the day.

Hurriedly, nearly running, you steady yourself against the wall as you rush down to the corner of the hallway, finally finding your room.

Turning the handle, it's not locked, it's broken. It opens with ease.

Entering the room slowly, pushing the doorway aside, the crackle of glass beneath your boots as you step forwards, clothes and picture frames laying scattered.

The mattress flipped and ripped open, springs and cotton cut from it. Your wall of metals and certificates, from acts of bravery and mementos of valor, discarded, later you'd find them in the trash, one with a bullet lodged into the gold.

Sniffling as you leaned down, picking a specific frame off the ground, the only one that hadn't been broken. Laying along the ruined rug, with no care for the glass digging through your jeans, you stare at the still shot of your family.

The only family you had outside of Task Force 141, your father and his sister, military brats themselves, until their retirement. Your mother had passed, or just up and left, days after your 5th birthday, you weren't completely sure, the story kept changing every year. But, these two were the only family you've ever known, ever had, until you joined the military, following in their footsteps.

They'd been so proud when you arrived back after your first assignment, in truth you were heavily traumatized, but seeing them, you just had to smile. Having a family that understood the harsh toll on the line of a trooper, now a lieutenant, it was always easier to bring your troubles to them. But, they were also military nuts so "suck it up" was also a quick go to answer from your aunt, while your father was the smoother talker.

They had met Simon, loved him, his rank, his love for you, his seriousness. They trusted him completely with your heart.

So, when he called them, after the evidence leaked...

They believed him.

"What're you talking about?" You took the handle of the chair in your grip, easing you down into it as your legs do weak at what you were hearing. "I didn't...I didn't do it, Dad."

"Do you know how humiliating and disappointing--how it felt to hear him say that to me, hm?" he says, static crackles on the reciever. "My daughter...my own flesh and blood...working with terrorists--"

"I'm not working with anyone! Are you-" you huff out a breath of disbelief. "Are you even listening to me? I've never betrayed the code. How can you think that way of me?"

For a moment, he's silent. "Alright, then," he began. "Than, what'd you do? huh?"

"What--what..."

"Oh, come on, (Y/n)!" your father yells. "What did you do?! What could they possibly have had on you that made you the most likely target? You had to have had done something, been somewhere, were with somebody you weren't supposed to be with! They didn't just get that information from anywhere."

"What the fuck--" Your expression twists with frustration and misery, running your hand through your hair, pulling at it. "I've sacrificed every part of myself for this job, for this team, what do I have to gain from throwing that all away? They send me everywhere, places you've never heard of, places you'll never hear about and people you'll never have to meet, because of me! Why would you just believe Simon? Why couldn't you just wait to talk to me?!"

Hearing your father scoff at your words was painful. "What reason do I have not to believe him? He knows you, maybe even better than any of us. Besides, he was going to be my son in law--"

"I'm your daughter! Fuck Simon, what about me? You'd believe him instead?"

He sighs. "Listen, you're upsetting Cass. We didn't expect your call. I gotta make this brief..."

"You're upset?" pulling at your hair, sucking in sharply. "I'm the one who's permanently fucking altered here. What do either of you have to be upset about?!"

"Watch your fucking mouth!" he seethes. The anger in his voice isn't new, but the way he spits it at you is. "You did this to yourself, I didn't. Maybe that's what your nightmares were about, am I right? Your guilt?"

Wiping the streaks of tears that had fallen down your face, lips quivering and chest aching with sobs you frustratedly shoved down. "Why don't you believe me?"

"I don't deserve the disgrace that will come with you as my kin, I've lived my part of this war. No daughter of mine should even be in this fucking position," your father spat, disgusted into the receiver. Suddenly, he was the cruel, bitter old man your mother had always known him to be, you wished she had stayed to at least remind you of that. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. "You should be ashamed of yourself, but at least you got yourself out it. The least you could do for us."

"Well--what does that mean?" you spoke, quietly.

"Don't call again..."

"Dad, no--" you break this time, a sob escaping you.

"Me and your Aunt Cass..."

"Daddy please, don't do this--"

"..We've decided to cut ties. We're not taking any heat from this, you're on your own," he finishes, clearing his throat, waiting a moment, listening to the pleads and cries of his only daughter, his once pride. "You take care of yourself. Goodbye, kid."

"Why can't you just believe me? Why?!" you cried.

"Don't come to the house."

"No, no,--" the line goes dead. And staring down at your phone, his caller id going blank and the call disconnecting.

Your phone all of a sudden feels heavy, the device and your hand falling down to your thigh, before the phone slips out of your grip and onto the floor. You sit there silently, until your tears drop up and even after.

Staring at the photo now was haunting in its own way, it was just another painful reminder.

Using the bed frame to stand to your feet, your grip on the frame is painful as you squeeze it, the glass cracks audibly.

"Bonnie..."

Whipping around at the sound of John MacTavish's voice, you back up a few steps at the sight of him, your back hitting the edge of your desk.

He reaches out as you stumble, before his fingers curl back into his palm as you find your balance, his hands receding back to his sides. He doesn't enter the room, just lingering just beyond the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room, guiltily.

"I didn't know--we didn't know you were out," he speaks quietly, as opposed prideful personality that translated into his voice usually.

You say nothing.

In the dark, your eyes are wide and your shoulders are tensed up, he can see the glint of your leg braces, the iv pole at the side, the scar beneath your eye. You looked terrified to see him.

"We were coming back to clean up today, just got back from...from a mission..." he stutters on his words, shifting his feet.

"It's been a week."

His lips press together hearing your voice. "I know..." Johnny glances around at the room he'd let those officers destroy, it hadn't been them, but they might as well had done it. "I know...we just...didn't know it was so bad."

"Really?" your voice is mockingly sweet, drawing out the word. "You didn't know? Well look..." you hold up your family photo, the light in the hallway catching on the glass. "You missed one."

Your hand dropping, the heavy frame comes down just as fast, ramming into the ground, the glass practically exploding on impact.

Johnny flinches, the photo of your family...He looks back to you, surprised. "Bonnie..."

Snatching the next closest thing from your desk, a ceramic cup. "Oh, wow, can't believe you guys missed this one," you chuck it into the wall. It breaks on impact, the remains scatter along the flipped mattress and onto the floor. "That used to be my favorite mug by the way."

The Scotsman worriedly steps forwards, 'Lass, I'm sorry--"

"FUCK YOU!" you spat, coming into the light. You're sure you look deranged, and you didn't care. You could've wrapped your hands around his throat, killed him right on the floor and you wouldn't have blinked. "It doesn't mean anything! 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', over and over and over again! As if you shouldn't be! Your apologies mean fuck all."

"I know...I know," he breathes. "But, I've gotta say it anyway, bonnie. I should've believed you, there was no reason not to. I know that now. I just--"

"Believe me!" you cut him off with a yell. "Trust me! Fucking 'HELP ME'!" you screamed with the same fever as your days in the interrogation room, that terrible cell, the cold, the burn and pain. "I cried it all to you, to all of you, and nobody came. Nobody came for me," you breathe in sharply. "It doesn't matter what you should've done. You didn't do it!"

Johnny's eyes are red, he opens his mouth, closes it and then swallows down whatever chokes him up as he looks at you. "I should've came for you. I wish I did. I wanted to, Bonnie..." he steps forwards, and you recede back away from him, your eyes narrowed with violence. "I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you. For not coming to help you. For laying a hand on you. I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I'm sorry..."

I'll never forgive myself... "That makes two of us," you assured.

Johnny's eyes widen, before they close, his guilt ever consuming. He can't help but understand, to respect your decision, to know things can never be ok again. "(Y/n)...."

Grabbing hold of the nearest thing, a pencil cup, you hurl it at Johnny. He doesn't put his hands up, flinching as it hits him, the metal clinking against his kevlar, eyes closing then opening, he stands still. "I don't forgive. I don't accept your apology. I don't fucking care about it!" with each sentence you throw something else his way, a broken frame, the trash bin, a pillow, the CD player.

His hand has to come up for the knife you unsheathe, a memento from one of your missions, it's rusted, ancient probably. But, you hadn't given it up to a museum or to pawn, you had nearly died on this mission, saving Johnny ironically. You had to keep it.

Seeing the weapon, his defensive position is instinctive but his hands drop just as fast, he understands, you need this. You deserve this. "If you need to..." he speaks. Your eyes flicker up to him, away from the knife. "If you need to, I get it..."

And you need to. You really fucking do.

Your grip on the knife is dangerously hard, it hurts.

Looking at Johnny, he'd been your brother in more than a few ways on and off the field, he had been your comfort, your friend, your family. You had bled with him, held onto him as he carried you from the battlefield, joked, laughed, screamed and cried. You've loved him for years.

He'd had a rough few nights you could see that. He was quieter, reserved. Almost as terrified to see you, as you had been of him.

And you could kill him right now and never bat an eye.

And so, throwing that knife was so fucking easy.

Johnny's eyes close as you do just that, fists clenching and teeth biting down on his tongue to prepare for the pain.

The ancient weapon whiz's through the air, the sound is sharp and he knows it will cut through him like butter.

The thud rings in the room, and Johnny's eyes blow open wide, holding his breath as he collapses to his knees, before turning to you.

You dig into the pile of clothes that had been cast aside, a pair of sneakers and a new shirt. You don't look at him a single time as you take it all, stuffing them in a bag, and leaving the room, passing him completely, a limp in your step.

Johnny releases a pained breath, tears finally leaving him as he looks up, the knife lodged into the frame of the doorway, just barely missing him. The sleeve of his uniform ripped open.

He sits there in the quiet, destroyed room. A testimony to the relationship he's destroyed between you.

Part 4!! OUT NOW

[deadtwice]

✿ heh

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

[satoruan]

CONJUGAL VISIT w/jujutsu Kiasen

Description: in which an inmate of a prison or jail is permitted to spend several hours or days in private with a visitors

More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, unprotected sex, some d/s dynamics with Toji, American prison system? (idk if other countries allow this lol?) 

☾ Ryomen Sukuna 

He's been in solitary for so long that you start to think you'll never see him again. He finally fixes his attitude enough to come in contact with others and eventually gets some visitation rights. Get used to having sex with him here because the guards inform you he isn't leaving for a long time.

 “s’too much Kuna!” You whine into the flat pillow but your boyfriend Sukuna could care less and keeps pounding into you from behind.

“Think I care slut? Been away from this pussy for months now, shut up and take what I give you.” He grits out, pushing deeper into your back with one hand, fisting your hair with the other. He’d be damned if you tell him what to do after all this time away. Do you know how spineless he had to act in order to get this visit, on his ‘best behavior’, desperate to finally be able to sink in some cunt after being surrounded by irrelevant men and guards with their heads up their asses?

“Feels s’good,” you moan when Sukuna hits your special spot. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That fast slut, it hasn't even been ten minutes” He chuckles, leaning down to bite your shoulder.

“Missed you, ‘Kuna, c-cant cum ‘out you.”

“Can’t do shit without me, bet you can’t even function out there without me,” He groans in your hair, you don't understand half of what he’s saying you just nod mindlessly and slam your hips back on his cock.

“Then cum on my cock, whore.”

☾ Gojo Satoru 

He's on a mission that requires him to go to jail. The prison warden is in on it, but that doesn't mean your boyfriend doesn't want to experience the "real deal." He convinces the warden to allow him weekly fuck sessions because he says he can't complete the mission without them.

“i-Im gonna cum ‘Toru!” you whine aloud, to far gone to be embarrassed that your boyfriend is fucking you on scratchy sheets in a bed that probably hasn’t been thoroughly cleaned in years or the fact that multiple other girls have probably been in the same position you’re in with other inmates, on the same bed.

“So tight love, haven't you been using your dildos in my absence?’ he questions as he thrusts into your glistening cunt. Watching as you throw your head back, tears running down your cheeks.

“They’re too small ‘Toru!” You wrap your legs around his hard ass trying to get him as deep as he can.

“Aww, they can't make you cum as hard as I can, can they love?” he pouts against your swollen lips. You shake your head furiously, listening to the sounds your squelching cunt makes when he thrust back in, his balls slapping hard against your ass.

“Think i'll ask if I can get out early on good behavior. I can't leave my girl unsatisfied now.” He chuckles before diving his tongue into your mouth.  

☾ Toji Fushiguro 

Your mans got locked up again! This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last. You don’t know how he convinces the guards to allow you to visit time and time again, but you won't complain. You always miss him when he's gone every few months. The guard just sighs when he sees you’re here for visitation again

“You miss me, little girl?” he grins, sticking thick fingers in your already sopping cunt. “You know I always miss you when you’re gone, daddy.” You gasp, your back hitting the cold concrete wall behind you when Toji curls into your g-spot. 

“So so bad.” you whine, grinding your aching clit on his hard stomach, legs tightening around his slim waist when you find the perfect spot.

“You wanna cum little girl?” he asks while marking up your neck. He needs others to know you’re taken and if he can't be around you at the moment he’ll make it known another way.

“Yes Toji!” You scream.

“Yes what?” He stops his fingers.

“Yes daddy,” you whisper, moving your hips desperate to not lose the orgasm you were chasing. “Please make me come daddy, please!” 

“That's what I thought little girl” He says before continuing his movements and biting down on your heavy bottom lip.

☾ Choso Kamo

Too ashamed that he ended up in prison to allow you to visit him for a while. After much reassurance from you that you don’t look at him differently he finally comes out of his shell and makes friends. Get’s out early on good behavior.

“You think someones watching?” You mumble, looking back at the camera in the corner of the dark lit room.

“F-fuck baby, don’t fuckin’ stop,” Choso whines, gripping your waist, trying to make you bounce on his stiff cock. ‘Who cares if they are, baby? They won’t touch.”

You turn back around and grin down at your boyfriend “mmm, isn't that how you got in here in the first place Choso, beating up a man for touching me?” You start grinding on his cock again.

“Do anything for you, baby.” He moans gripping your waist when your tight walls start squeezing down on him, trying hard not to bust a nut so quickly.

“Yeah,” you moan out, feeling his cock twitch in you. “Now you’re stuck in here for months away from me.” You pout and claw at his chest when Choso starts to bounce you on his cock. God, if only he didn’t beat that man up you’d have this every night.

“Worth it.” He looks up at the camera, imagining the security guard looking down at your ass recoil when he slams you down on his cock