#but like one of the ones i like to think about.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Wizard Cowboy War (Wizboys VS Cowards) continues on.

[hexedwithluck]

I did the meme :)

[egophiliac]

So.... what are your thoughts on Ace's UM, if you haven't been asked this already?

sneaky magic for the sneakiest boy

no but really, I think it fits him really well! I had thought his UM would probably involve something kinda sleight-of-handy or pickpockety! and I looooved that it made such a nice loop-around back to episode 1. ❤️ I was. kind of half-expecting him to just run out and punch Riddle in the nose again. but instead this time 'twas he who offed the queen's head! it was great! and he did it while stone-cold terrified out of his mind! because Ace is the only remotely normal or well-adjusted person at NRC and therefore the only one who is like "we're going to literally die, this is super effed up". but he did it anyway!!!! I AM SO PROUD

[definitivelydrivel]

Pretty sure it's the only way to actually do things sometimes with ADHD. I'm not choosing to multitask. My brain automatically tries to find other shit to focus on and will usually choose something a lot more distracting if I don't keep it content with low energy shit.

Barely lout enough to hear background music and phone game puzzles keep me from thought spirals about whether the fact that I forgot to load the dishwasher is an indication that I'm incapable of survival as a human being or other weird existential or anxiety shit.

Yeah it's inefficient but trust me it's a hell of a lot better than letting my brain choose its own distraction, because it will find them and they will be horrible.

Literally every single Neuroscience guy I listen to on audiobooks and podcasts: Multitasking is a lie. You are not more efficient. You're just rapidly switching between tasks and doing all of them slower but your brain is tricking itself into thinking it's more efficient because you get a little dopamine reward when you activate the 'change task' neurons. And you're burning up way more glucose in the process, leaving you more tired with less done. STOP MULTITASKING. JUST DO ONE THING. PLEASE IT'S ONLY WORSENING YOUR ATTENTION SPAN. WE'RE BEGGING YOU, PLEA--

My ADHD: Don't listen to them, babydoll. You are sooooooo efficient and attractive. Whoop. You got an email. Whoop you got a text. Whoop you got a blog ask. WOW look at all the tabs open on this window. Do you even remember what they're all for? Better look through them and close the ones you're not using because you're soooo sexy and efficient. Whoop, email again.

[tonycries]

OL-F*CK-TORY ETHICS?!

Synopsis. Pheromone perfume? Should’ve thought about the olfactory ethics of driving him absolutely wiId with them.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pheromone perfume (they’re affected), they go FÉRAL, slight aphrodísiacs, creampíes, dúmbification, tummy buIges, MARATHONS, overstím, really néedy boys, GOJO’S POWERS, full neIsons, making Geto whímper, handcúffs (Geto), rough s, p sIapping, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Yes, I think I’m a comedian for that title.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - BREAK HIM!

“P-please-” 

“Hm?”

“Please, doll…”

And it’s the first time in your life that you’ve heard Toji Fushiguro beg - the first ever time in his life that he has. Low, rasping over the deafening snap! of the poor headboard splitting in half, “Mercy- m’begging ya. Mercy.”

It’s hard to think that just a few hours ago, he was trying not to snicker with smugness - pheromone perfume. Really? As if anything in that shiny, half-off bottle could make him lose his composure. 

“Such a silly girl–” Toji had rolled his sage eyes down at you. Tutting at the way you were impatiently sprawled over his lap, waiting for his word. Leisurely, he’d leaned in– well whatever his lady wants. “Told ya already, this stuff isn’t gonna m-make me-”

Oh.

And that was hours ago. Hours. 

But here Toji was bullying his furiously sweat-slicked face into the heady crook of your neck - taking only one singular whiff before he flinches. Hips rutting mindlessly into yours with a smack! “O-oh, we’re not making it hngh! outta this alive, ma.”

It was the fourth time in the past few minutes that he’s babbling those very words into your perspired skin. The fourth time. 

He was broken.

Managing out only a few throaty whimpers when you’re shuffling onto your elbows, all you have to do is give one fluttering squeeze of your gummy walls before something hits your arched spine with a wet splat!

Multiple. Tears. 

“F-fuuuuck–” He’s hissing, sexy baritone thickened with clingy sobs. And the only thing sloppier than Toji’s unsteady tone, was his cock. Ruthless. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–”

“Need a lil’ h-help, baby?” You find yourself purring, head tilting ever-so-slightly over your shoulder to bare Toji with even more of your scented throat. Clouded wafts of it puffing over to his darkened features and making him gasp– “Because-”

In only a split-second, you’re not even sure what you were about to say - what happened other than Toji shoving you face-first into the cushy pillow in nanoseconds. 

Staggering strength leaving the bulging biceps on his big, beefy arms flex, and you keening away into your soft landing. Boneless legs stumbling onto the bed once he tilts his bodyweight onto yours and makes you stumble, “T-Tooji—!”

Oh, the sound of his name in your honeyed tone makes Toji’s hulking voice break out in shivers. 

“S-s’it turn you on ta see me like this?” Punctured with solid, pounding plaps! of his bloated tip against your springy cervix, such a staggering size that tenderized every sliver inside your heated cunt without even trying. His massive arms tremble, “To see me a-all pathetic and ngh- weak?”

Weak. 

But the way he was pinning you down onto the creaking bedcoils and slamming jagged bruises onto your mounds of flesh from behind was anything but.

“M-maybe?” Oh, he definitely was fucking you stupid - because you find yourself giggling. Globs of slippery drool overspilling from your slack maw and drenching the puffy pillow underneath you. So wet n’ utterly filthy that it makes your thighs squeeze, “You’re s-so cute, Toji.”

“Don’t- don’t you fuckin’–” Immediately leaving one spank on your puffed-up clit. Two. Three, just for good measure- shit, Toji really can’t help but bring those sappy, glazed-over fingerpads to his mouth and sucking. 

And the sugary sweet taste makes the man moan. 

“Fuck- fuck, did that p-perfume make her taste even sweeter or what?” 

Before you know it, Toji’s hard, Herculean front is sagging downwards into yours - hunching over, collapsing. He can barely keep his eyelids held open, let alone his glissading body. 

Sinking you ever-deeper into the plush mattress, you swear you could count each and every rock-hard ab pressing into you. The curvy massage of Toji’s pecs rendering your mouth to let off a soft mewl.

And he’s rough above you. Still fucking you in a way that makes your sturdy bed splinter. Dark tufts from Toji’s happy trail scratching the very tip-top of your papping ass with every merciless whack.

“Gonna tell ya a s-secret-” He spills in breathy puffs against your ear, nuzzling the pointed tip of his nose against where your perfume was the most potent. Drinking you in. Gasping. “-b-better not tell ngh- anyone- got it, ma?”

And you almost get the urge to tilt your head back and confirm that this was really your Toji.

Because not only were his choked-up words making you dizzy, so was the way that he sounded right about not. Voice numerous octaves higher, cracking. 

You’d have half the mind to tease him about it if the entirety of your fuzzy head wasn’t completely overtaken by simply the thought of Toij Toji Toji-

“Oi- oi!” Three harshly repeated smacks to the side of your cheek wrench you from your little daydream, until you’re being manhandled with a few fingers around your throat to gaze up at the man himself. Growling, “N-no zonin’ out on me just yet- gotta tell ya h-how much it turns me on, too…”

Oh? Oh.

And as soon as he starts, he can’t stop. Can’t slow down the prattling words spat into your mouth - all teeth and something lecherous. 

You’re squealing once one of his splayed-out palms rover to the bumpy outline of him fucking a tummy bulge into you. 

Skimming across until he could practically feel the rapid ba-dump–! ba-dump–! ba-dump–! being crashed into all your magical spots, “L-look at you taking it allll. Look how hard I am- feel how hngh- fucking hard–” 

He doesn’t even have to finish his sentence for you to know. For you to feel.

Another heavy gulp of the thick air surrounding you two - of that familiar candied smell - and he’s like an animal. Swollen cock stretching your goopy walls until they were wiiidely agape, throbbing a few solid centimeters wider in circumference. 

“How fucking big. Yeah? Hngh- t-takin’ it all like a big girl, aren’t ya?” 

Getting harder just from the perfume. From you. 

One hand desperately claws at his own bustling bulge, the other smearing over your overstuffed pussy.

“O-oh, god-” Your eyes sprint needily to the back of your head, head pushing into the soaked pillows. Toji’s ministrations were heavenly, rubbing quick, jerky heart all over your sugar-coated clit. Faster. “K-keep doing that n’ m’gonna c-cum.”

“M’only getting harder. Needier- fuck, I need you-” Swirling his fat thumb in circles right on time with his globular tip, “My big girl- w-with her ngh- big perfumes. Fuck-” You don’t think Toji even registers when he plants a delicate peck where your scent was the strongest. Moaning. Before pressing two more, three, four- “Don’t want- Need you to c-cum f’me. Need to feel that ngh- pretty pussy cum ‘round my big fuckin’ cock.”

You’re raking your nails down his toned forearms, “Close. C-close.”

“Fucking cum.”

And when you so, your silken soft walls are squeezing Toji’s veiny shaft so tight that it takes him everything in him to fuck you through each white-hot peak. Dragging you across your starry high and then some-

Wiping away a trickling spray of his own drool, Toji feels himself laugh - low and humorless. You’ve found his weakness.

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Mr. CEO

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. The perfect sweetheart.

But that was the complete opposite of the way that said Nanami Kento currently had you shoved face-down into his cool mahogany office desk, your delirious tears spilling over in rippling puddles over the expensive wood while he fucked you like he hated you.

“Fuck-” he’s spitting into your open maw, fingers loosening his overpriced tie. Your popped ears ring with a sharp riiiip–! once he tugs your tight satin skirt even higher, rough. “Fuck- not again, darling.”

Before you can even think of gurgling out any coherent syllables, his ragged palm comes striking down on the surface mere inches away from your face with a deafening SLAM!

Meaty thighs rippling with copious shivers from right behind you - Nanami was letting himself heave, he was letting his muscular body pin you down. Sliding the ladder-like ridges of his abs down your arched back.

“Shit. Shit shit shit- not again. M’not supposed ta-” Cutting himself off - gasping - and it’s a sheer miracle that he can even manage to wrench out those growling words at this point. Breath puncturing with a low ah! ah! ah! after every hit of his toned hips against your ass. “I don’t…don’t know why-”

Almost…feral.

You’re both letting your heads drop down at a drunken pace to catch the splat! of those first few ribbons of cum being slipped past your folds. 

Every bludgeoning inch of Nanami’s coral pink crownhead plugs your leaky hole full. He’s fucking in those dewdrops of seed to maze across your gummy walls, leaving sweltering hot geysers pooling on your cervix.

So hot. 

And in the corner of your eye, you’re catching him reel those powerful hips back until only the very tip of his swollen cock was softly pecking your entrance. “Can’t- can’t stop cumming- fuck!”

“Wh-what?” You’re not sure if you heard him right.

“Can’t stop, m’sorry–” He draws a slow five circles around your quivering hole with the very edge. A glossy white lip gloss that cakes over your pussy folds like icing. “Won’t stop cumming. Haaah- your cute cunt…s’drivin’ me mad.”

You feel Nanami’s round-ended thumb plug up the weeping orifice right in the middle of his cockhead, trying- failing to stop his trickling rivulets of creamy seed. Before letting out a pained huff and filling you once more to the very brim–

It was so much. Too much. And it just pained him to not be all sunken inside your hot, pretty pussy.

You whimper at the taut stretch, stumbling onto your unsteady elbows to peek at your husband. “I-is everything alright, Ken?”

Desperate.

You haven’t seen Nanami look this gone - eyes so hooded they were almost shuttered closed, mouth forever parted in awe, cheeks burning with a bright red blush - since the first time he ever fucked you.

So warm and dizzy. 

Your fluttery walls squeeze involuntarily around his puffed-up veins, as if you’re trying to memorize every jagged pattern. Heart racing once leans in with a vulgarly handsome snarl-

“Still here.” He gruffs out a throaty murmur into your rapidly beating pulse, teeth nipping dangerously over the drumming staccato as if to warn look what I can do, my love. And the expression plastered all over his face is nothing if not crazed, “Still there.”

Fuck, that same mantra over n’ over again.

“Wh-what do you mean, Ken?” It takes everything in you to voice out, even the leaking cum that Nanami scoops up dutifully doesn’t compare to just how much wetter your cunt gets at the hoarse baritone of his voice. He was so effortlessly sexy.

“It’s- it’s still there, darling.” And you’ve never heard your stoic husband sound so…ruined. Like he was on the verge of crying - or damn near breaking you in half. Or both.

And how could Nanami Kento have become the boss if he didn’t multitask?  

He was still pounding long, rummaging inches into you after every syllable spoken - hitting the bruised and battered target of your g-spot with a sickly sweet ba-dump! every single time. Not even slowing down to let himself catch his breath after his previous orgasm.

He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Because even though Nanami’s molten eyes were stinging with tears from the utter sensitivity, even though he could feel his hefty balls flinch tenderly every time they thwacked against the front of your cunt - he still found something dark and deep inside of him begging for more more more. 

Body moving before he could even control.

In only nanoseconds, Nanami interlaces a clawed grip around your throat to haul you up like some glamorized doll. Eyes widening, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and gasps.

“Th-this-” And Nanami Kento never stutters, he never lets his statuesque facade crack with the beginnings of something that almost looks shy. Your stomach twists at the way his cerise lower lip wobbles adorably, “-what is this, my love?”

“Hmm–? Oh.” And then it finally hits you. “A n-new perfume?”

Although it looks like it wasn’t just a perfume. Fuck, you should’ve looked at the packaging a little closer. 

But Nanami doesn’t answer. He doesn’t utter a word. Does nothing but let his lungs drag in a generous heaval of your scent.

And it’s enough to send his needy cock crashing into the very bottom of your sloppy pussy. Your hands scramble for anything - and land on the golden name plate emblazoned with CEO NANAMI while he draws up a looong wet glide. Prying apart the papping mounds of your ass to rut into you impossibly deeper. 

Nanami’s vision clouds and he’s not sure if it’s from the force of the countless orgasms or simply you. His gorgeous wife. 

Wait- wife?

Before he knows it - before he can stop himself - he’s babbling away, “Marry me- marry me, my love.”

“But…” You’re reaching over to tangle your fingertips through his dishevelled strands of gold with a smile. Thumbing away that perspired furrow in his brow, “We’re already hah! married, Kento.”

Oh?

And Nanami Kento trusts you above him. Which is why he finds his eyes rovering down to steal a glance at your pretty ring finger and- oh. You were right. 

“Mhm— tha’s me, Kento. Your husband.” He’s breathing out, one hand tracing over the staggeringly large rock homed prettily on your wedding ring. 

And the other- the other was letting his fat fingerpads swipe down your buttery slit, topping itself with sweltering hot ounces of cum. Before promptly pushing past your wobbly lips, “Now suck ‘nless you want the whole office to hear about your ph-pheromone perfume.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - T-take it, dammit-

“You- you bitch.” Geto Suguru looked so pretty like this - amethyst eyes fighting to stay open in anger and need, curtaining inky hair splayed out like a halo underneath him. Each growling snarl of his only growing raspier by the minute, “Fucking knew this would h-happen, didn’t you?”

Did you just hear the oh-so-suave Geto Suguru stutter?

And it’s just about all you can do to keep yourself from snickering, hands planting precariously onto the delicious curve of his deltoids. The bulging flex of his toned muscles makes your mouth water, “Oh? I don’t know what you mean, Sugu—”

Geto’s rolling his eyes - but his hips were speaking a completely different language. Rolling up off of the sticky hold of the bedsheets to give your g-spot a good, lengthy skim of his ruby-red tip.

He’s tugging one shackled wrist, “S’that why ya have me in this, gorgeous?” 

Ah, and how could you forget your favorite part about tonight? 

Those fuzzy pink handcuffs that you’d goaded your dear boyfriend into wearing, all smug smiles and chuckles until you’d leaned down to give him an innocent peck. And then let him smell-

“Sh-shit. Look what you’ve done t’me.” He’s hissing into your loosened mouth, snatching your pouted lips into such a bruising, bruising kiss. Sharpened canines digging into your bottom lip, he practically gulps in the breaths of your special perfume. “You and th-this heavenly pussy and that- godforsaken pheromone perfume.”

You were making a fool out of him - all with a “special perfume” that he’d bought for you at your pleas. Idiot, he didn’t even read the box before gifting it to you.

Geto throws his head back with a drawling grunt when the only reply he gets is your pretty smile. “Fuck- fuck!”

Voice pitching up in volume higher and higher- and he was sure he looked crazed right about now. Hips rutting cleanly off of the mattress to spearhead you with so many copious inches. More. 

It was already hard enough keeping himself smooth n’ composed every time he usually sunk past your velvety walls - you drove him wild without even trying. But now? 

Now this stupid “perfume” of yours was here to do the very same thing, only tenfold because it was his beautiful girl wearing it.

Oh.

Geto thanks he can feel himself going wild.

The extra heavy-duty handcuffs sing out a metallic creak–! once he tugs particularly harshly, trembling fingertips aching to feel every inch of your glissading body. You were riding him at such a maddening tempo. Your hips hitting the very back of his generously curved balls, before gyrating your puffy clit down in a slooow grind up his toned abdomen — but he wanted more.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough when Geto was like this.

“When- when I break out of these oh!” With every empty threat puffed out into the heady air, Geto finds his achingly hard cock weeping even more thick rivulets of pre. Lungs filling up with hypnotic volumes and volumes of that scent. He can feel himself fucking tearing up, “F-fuck you.”

He was so sexy like this. 

Trying oh-so-desperately to pretend that those collisions into your gooey depths didn’t have his toes curling, heavy lids falling shut to hide away just how fast Geto’s eyes were sliding to the very back of his head.

You’re arching a brow, “Oh? What was that?”

Lips sleazing backwards into a pussydrunken grin, you had the inkling that Geto didn’t even realize what he was babbling away at this point. He couldn’t even think. “I-I said fuck-” 

Mouth still moving. Soundless.

And all it takes is a mere touch of your sensory fingertips caressing his sweat-lathered temple to render Geto speechless.

“W-wait—” He breathes out, and he sounds hysterical right now. Venomous tone lilting countless octaves higher and wobbling as if he was about to break. His chest caves in with a low please–! once you’re streaking your digits through his silky hair, shivering as if being shocked with a thousand voltages. Pulling. “Not fair. Not fair not- fuck tha’s not fair t’me, gorgeous.”

You already knew that the pheromone perfume had some…aphrodisiacal effects. But it seemed that Geto was extra sensitive to it. Cute. 

“Yes, and?” Just for good measure - oh, you were thoroughly enjoying this - you’re trekking your stray fingertips to latch onto the gleaming curve of his throat. Bringing your scented neck even closer-

“Oh.” Geto’s snarky mouth now floods with a silvery plash of scorching hot saliva, fucked out of him after every resounding slam! of your hips down on his. You watch as his weightily lidded eyes glaze over with a film of something murky.

Continuing to wrench needily at his restraints. Desperately. It was like a second nature for Geto to touch you and right now he was ruined. You can’t help but ogle the rounded flex of his biceps-

“Gonna- fuck.” He whimpers - whimpers - out, nose crinkling. It made you much too drenched when he leans in mindlessly to rub the buttony tip of it against yours in a lazy kiss. Maw slacking every time you pumped his achily swollen cock across your most tender spots, the orifice of your hole massaging his reactive shaft so greedily. “M’close…”

Whispering, right now, as if it was the most dear confession. 

Because Geto Suguru never came before he’d made you reach your orgasm at least five times over.

But right now he was teetering right over the very high edge of it, so close. His thick, sculpted thighs push up from behind your motioning body to urge your bounces vulgarly faster, skin-to-skin. 

“C-close.” And it sounded almost pained if you didn’t feel the way it was accompanied by a hastily slipped spasm of Geto’s ballooned-up crownhead against your cervix. Too close. His beautiful head lolls backwards against the tear-streaked pillows, “M’gonna- m’gonna-”

Before snapping up furiously again when your merciless pace stops.

And all you can get out is a not-so-innocent, “Whoops.”

All you can get out - because it takes Geto exactly two split-seconds to snap! those useless pink handcuffs off of him and flip the two of you over to tower over you in all his glory. Speckles of frustrated sweat slithering between his bulging pecs and down onto your heaving body.

He’d let you have your fun, already.

Geto moves slow. Calculated. 

Leisurely meandering his face all over your thrumming throat, your tits, everywhere and anywhere that godforsaken pheromone perfume was calling to him. Taking in looong languid breaths of it - and each time he did, he’s fucking up into you like he didn’t even realize. 

Pounding you into the drenched silken sheets with all girthy inches of his circumference, branding it into your slippery womb like he didn’t want you to forget. 

You’re hit with the sudden remembrance that there was a reason you had to tie Geto up. 

And that is when you catch his gaze - wide, unfocused. Feral. 

Oh, you were fucked. 

So very fucked. 

“So.” Geto shatters your anticipatory realization with a throaty few syllables, hoarse like he wasn’t even ready for himself to speak at that point. Without a single warning, he spits - right in your mouth once. Then twice onto two slender fingers, before giving your cunt a stinging spank. “Ya gonna beg for mercy now or later, gorgeous?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - H.O.T.T.O.G.O.

God, if this was any other time then maybe Choso would’ve felt embarrassed about the way he was letting his clammy palms cling onto your waist like he never wanted you to let go. 

Because he didn’t. Would never. 

Huffing and puffing out clouded puffs of air into the sticky valley of your chest, he’s just so drunk on you. Can feel himself veering lazily into the pillow, drenching it with gumdrops of thick saliva. It takes everything in him to lift his head and puff in smoky breaths of your pheromones.  

And it makes him burn. So hot rutting up into you, skin-on-skin. 

Probing veins scouring your every nook and cranny, ruthless shaft the complete opposite of just how delicately he was boring down at you. Choso was nudging his ballooned-up cock past your puffy hole like he was making you melt around him.

Making you break - just as much as he was right now. 

And the only thing hotter is the way the slithering muscle of Choso’s pierced tongue lolls outwards to skim the buttery splotches of cum scattered across your tits from before. Shiny Prince Albert’s cooling you hardened nipples.

Eyes reeling to the very hidden backs of his hooded lids, he’s moaning at the salted caramel taste of himself. “S-so hot. So soft inside, m’ l-losing my mind.”

You’re just soaked skin-deep with him. 

And you’re blaming it all on that strange perfume - a pheromone perfume - that that assistant had dabbed on you at the store. You’d forgotten just how…sensitive curses can be to smells. 

How feral.

Finding your heart racing at the way he was narrating off every single thing, every single twitch inside you that slid across your gluey magical spots. “S’that so, Cho?”

Usually, Choso would nod away deliriously to your every word. Usually, he would prattle on sweet, sweet simperings of his very own.

But right now, you watch in slight awe as the pale skin of his pretty cheekbones scorch over with a brightly blossoming blush. The heat of it so feverishly hot that you can almost feel it, and Choso bucks his hips wildly into you with a low keen at the back of his throat.

“D-don’t call me that.” He’s straining out through a shiver. Lower lip fussed until it was a pouted cherry pink. You swear the moment Choso leans closer you see his long mahogany lashes glisten with tears. His big, beefy arms finding their way around your body, “S’gonna…gonna make me cum. Gonna- fuck!”

As if to prove his point, the perked hill of his fattened cockhead splits with glossy white swabs of pre. Buttering up your deepest insides and promising more. 

You’re tugging him in ever-closer, the look in your glassy eyes so loving that he feels his length pump greedy ounces more and swell. Growing girthier - pushing your glutinous walls further n’ further apart just from the way you’re staring at him. 

How he loved you.

You hum, “But I want you to, Cho. No need to be shy.”

Something in him breaks. And just the thought of it is enough to make the special grade in front of you drool.

Slick rivers of spittle streaming from between his jaw, unhinging when he inches in to gift your surprised tongue with a weighty splat! of webbed spit. He breathes out past the breathless bubble, “No no no no- D-don’t say things like that, baby– I’m not…myself, right now.”

Tasting him. All of him.

The sugary sweet coating lathers your tastebuds and makes you whine, your legs stumbling around Choso’s toned hips. You can feel every tense of his toned core, count all eight of his washboard abs, “S-s’this the ngh! pheromone perfume, baby–? Maybe I should wear it more hck! often-”

“No.”

No?

And Choso can bash himself for interrupting his lovely lady later - but right now, he was frenzied. 

Gulping voluminous lungfuls of that scent - of you. 

Deftly practiced fingers entrap your plummy clit and roll over not circles, not hearts- no, the letters of his name over n’ over. Branding the perked hood of your nub until you could feel your eyes burst with stars, Choso was ravenous. 

“S’because- because it’s you.” He gasps out thickly, smooth baritone unsteady under the weight of all those tears painting smudged eyeliner down his pretty cheeks. “Your scent, n-not that ngh- perfume.” You’re flinching at the looong drag of his scratchy tastebuds dragging over your scented throat. Or, well, previously scented throat. He was addicted to you. “You have me- have me in heat, lil’ human, n’ it’s making me…”

Wild.

If Choso was any lesser man then he would’ve dragged you halfway down the bedcoils and thrown your legs haphazardly over his shoulders. Folding you in half to pound you into the mattress until you were dumb.

But, luckily for your dripping cunt, Choso was that lesser man right now. 

He doesn’t think he feels alive - can’t even register his wheezing breaths once he’s manhandling you into the densest possible mating press. 

Strong biceps rippling, chest heaving-

His fuzzy brain only sparks with recognition when Choso’s heavy breeder balls clench once, twice, thrice at the way your drooling pussy was laminating his rounded curve with a slimy coating of slick. That’s when he can feel himself actually startle, actually see.

And fuck, was it a sight enough to make him cum if he wasn’t so entranced with that prettily awestruck look on your face. 

“Can’t even feel m-my legs, baby-” He’s spitting through clenched teeth, stray strands of coffee brown plastering all across his sweat-slicked forehead. And something in Choso’s voice was…dark. Dangerous. You were in trouble. “-can’t th-think of anything but ngh- breeding this pretty pussy right now.”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s what he meant by a heat.

“Mhm– my clever girl.” Shit- did you say that out loud? Rewarding your cutely spellbound mind with a hefty thud! thud! thud! right onto what feels like your lungs. He had all the time in the world to fuck you stupid, after all. “My mate.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Sweetener

“H-heh- say that again, silly human.”

“A pheromone perfume.” You’re squirming impatiently, words sticking to the back of your throat in saccharine gasps. And even the tiniest of gyrations leave Sukuna’s ruby-topped heads kissin’ sultry circles around your weeping hole. 

Leave you wanting more.

Snickering, “A fucking- pheromone- what?” 

The monstrous king of curses displays you with a rugged sneer that makes your folds even more impossibly watery. Just for those stupid words stumbling from your mouth, you’re gifted with one - two - three solid spanks, elongated black nails curling into the stinging mounds of your ass. 

It’s all you can do to grapple on helplessly to the mountain of his toned shoulders, fingers clawing red train tracks that look more like kitten scratches on him. “K-Kuna–!”

“Don’t K-Kuna me, brat.” Raw need coats the scorching innards of your mouth when he only rolls his crimson eyes, burning hot. And out of all four of Sukuna’s beefy arms, it only takes one to latch onto the curve of your hips and hover you unstably over his doubly swollen cocks. Tutting, “What? You think some h-human perfume will control Ryomen Sukuna. I must’ve fucked ya dumb already.”

So mean.

But Sukuna always did have a soft spot for you.

And all is a single criss-cross of your wobbly arms, kiss-bitten lips puckering up into the beginnings of his only weakness – your pout. 

“Fine. Fine, spoiled girl.” It works.

Yet, you’re shivering at the thwack! thwack! thwack! of his doughy-tipped fingers swatting your plump clit. Pecs puffing out with pride and smugness when your eyes glaze over at them and you stare.

It happens all at once. In an instant. 

As soon as both of Sukuna’s round, throbbing cockheads crown the edges of your drooling pussy - he leans sultry inches closer and finally, finally smells it. That. 

That scented perfume you’d found in your king’s centuries-old treasury, untouched and just ripe for your picking. For Sukuna to get hit with a thorough blast of it off of your heated skin, simply taking one whiff to addle his honed senses.

Undoing years upon years of painstaking training to make your great king of curses halt, jagged canines baring you with a predatory snarl. “Th-think this can affect oh-”

Who was he against you? 

Your entire body vibrates when Sukuna’s chest rumbles with something carnal. Bursting from the very depths of his chest and making you shiver.

The thunderous noise has barely even stopped ringing in your ears before he’s latching on two massive hands to your waist and pulling you in. No care, no hesitation - nothing but drooling with the anticipation of being buried inside your slick-flooding pussy.

He needed it.

And he can feel his head fall headily backwards at the shuddering thud! of Sukuna’s two proud tips skimming the ends of your spongy cervix. Hooked fangs snatching onto the jut of his bottom lip at the bouncy recoil- 

Fuck, he didn’t want to separate from your gummy walls for even a split-second. Even if it was to let your hips bounce in lecherous swivels up n’ down up n’ down up n’ down.

“Sh-shit, you’re in so ngh- deep.” 

It’s a slow tempo, but you never got used to the stretch that was Sukuna’s staggering sizes. 

Both aching cocks were so unfairly long and hard that he didn’t even have to try to smear his puffy veins over your awaiting g-spot. You swear both lengths reached well over a foot, and just having him bottom out had you scrambling to caress the inflated tummy bulge he was fucking into you. 

Your jaw hangs open, a syrupy waterfall of saliva dribbling all over your chin. You’re not sure if Sukuna even registers the way he’s tenderly swiping away the overspilling excess with a fat thumb. 

“Kuna?” You have to stop yourself from almost flinching away, feeling oh-so-shy at the burning heart-eyes in his gaze. The way a fourth arm was patting the sinful cylindrical outline leading up from your puffy pussy. Reaching an arm to stroke his sweat-matted pink locks, “A-are you okay?”

The moment your fingers skim any part - any minute millimeter - of Sukuna’s body, he’s whimpering. Whimpering. 

And if that was the worst of it, then maybe he could have gathered up some semblance of his shattered dignity. 

But Sukuna isn’t simply making pretty noises - he’s cumming. 

One touch. And a thousand torrents of cum sugarcoating your claggy walls. 

So much of it. Too much of it - it sweeps through your gluey walls and forms a little puddle ‘round his bulky bases. Creamily filthy mixtures of seed and slick ringing Sukuna’s base, they hit your perked clit with a wet pap! each time you’re milking him through his peaks. 

“D-did you just-”

“Shut up.” He bites back, leaving you no time for the realization to sink in - before curling a vice-like hand around your throat and making you slam down your hips. “Shut up.”

Sudden, striking hits that bruise the curve of your ass just as much as it bruised your battered insides. You were so hot. So soft that it made him dizzy. Melty depths being contracted around thick lengths, the pace at which your greedy pussy was swallowing him up almost made the king want to whine-

“O-oh my god.”

It did make him whine.

With a creaking squeak! of cushion, Sukuna’s sculpted hips lurch off of the decadent royal mattress in repeated ruts. Animalistic.

“Shut up- I s-said ngh- s’not my fault.” He spits out, angry dewdrops of steamy pre being streaked out in twin ribbons into the back of your cunt. “Not my fault you just feel so- so ohhh- f-fuck you, brat. I-if the rest of ‘em found out…”

But Sukuna already knew he was weak for you. He knew.

Just not to this extent. 

Not till just a simple cloud of your scent made his vision swim, a fresh wave of drool slipping n’ sliding from between the traitorous slit of his mouth. Both of them.

“M-mhm–” You find yourself smiling - maybe from his reaction, maybe from the way you were being fucked so thoroughly right. The knobbled tops of your knees skid easily across Sukuna’s drenched lap when you straddle him even even tighter, “S’that why-”

He wanted you to shut up. He needed you to shut up or else he was going to fucking cum again. 

Which is why his second cursed mouth opens wiiiide to puff your cunt with steamily clouded pants. Before rolling out his tongue and dragging up the entirety of your bulging pussy. All overfilled with him.

“A-another word–” Sukuna’s seething through clenched teeth, but it’s no use. None. Not when the way you lean in to listen closer is enough to make the king blush, “-a-and I make you walk a- ngh! around the entire day with my cum all safe n’ sound inside..”

♡ INO TAKUMA - “U-use me?”

“Wh-what?”

And for the first time in hours, Ino manages to meet his hazy chestnut eyes with yours. Shivering. Half-lidded. “Use me.”

Fuck.

You thought your beloved boyfriend would regain his senses by the second round- no, perhaps the third time’s the charm.

Okay, maybe the fourth? The fifth?

But even after six looong rounds, your splintered bedframe was still trilling with shrill creaks; sagging uselessly on one end as strong, tannish arms stick ever-closer to your body like glue. Folding you into the meanest n’ tightest full nelson possible. 

Still scorching. Still needy after getting hit with just a waft of that pheromone your friends bought you as a joke. A joke. 

But this was anything but.

Ino can’t even bring himself to wipe away the wads upon wads of slippery drool leaking from his maw after every mushy thud of his globular cockhead against the very back of your goopy cervix. He can’t even think.

“Puh-please.” He’s hiccuping, soft tipped fingers clawing near the sweaty crown of your head to push you further down. Lapping a lazy stripe up your scented neck, “Just one more– ngh! Need you t-to use me to make yerself cum once more, sweetness.”

“M-more?”

And oh, your voice was warbling with such cute disbelief that it makes Ino groan. “Yes. Yes.”

Planting a few more vicious plunges of his strawberry pink tip into the target of your favorite sweet spots - Ino’s favorites, too. Especially once your puffy pussylips part with numerous geysers of slick, flooding translucent rings at his base. 

All without even looking up from your neck.

He can’t.

Ino’s entire body wracks with tremors when he even tries to pull away a mere inch. Two. All that he can manage before nuzzling back in with heavy repeated pants.

You’re only getting wetter - and that maddening little perfume one you? Only stronger. 

He swears - fuck, maybe he’s going crazy - that he can smell just how close you are, how your tummy’s tightening into wiry knots. 

“But- but are you sure, baby–?” Your fingers scratch at the tawny ends of his damp locks, a primal itch so heavenly that he almost purrs. “M’wondering if you even can-”

“I can-” He’s cutting you off, free fingers straying down to the slightly-softening base of Ino’s furious cock and squeezing. Rutting up into you with wild abandon, “I can. I can- promise, sweetness, I promise.”

“Taku–”

And throughout Ino’s hazy mind, your words ring out like a death sentence. Like a punishment. Causing him to snap open his eyes with a sharp intaking gasp, round-topped curves of his knees manhandling your thighs further n’ further open.

You whine at the burning smear, head throwing backwards in a way that makes his slow rovering over your neck break away-

And if Ino was upset before, then he’s simply devastated now.

Sounding like he’s on the verge of sobbing, “No. No no no no no- don’t run, pretty.” Like catnip. Like a moth drawn to your frame, he’s wrapping his jittery forearms around you until you could count every twitch of his sculptured forearms. Crushing you in close. “Look at yourself- smell yourself. Fuck, I need it. M’not asking, m’b-begging you to use me like a…toy.”

He almost wishes he could bring himself to lurch away from that haven of pheromones dabbed across your skin. 

Almost wishes he could do anything else but swivel a fat thumb across your weepy folds, bringing it allll the way up to his eager nose to steal a long sniff. 

Filthy. 

But it’s exactly what makes Ino’s swollen cock perk up with an animalistic flinch inside of you, probing into the target of your g-spot dead on. 

“Shit- shit— y-you just got so much bigger.” Your vision flashes blissful white when his length stiffens into even longer n’ sold inches, swabbing at your precious cunt with pressurized pounds. And whatever ounces of blood left in his melty mind? Oh, they’re sprinting all the way down Ino’s boiling veins to end up bloating his throbbing cock. 

Getting hard just by the smell of you.

“O-oh.” You’re being bounced on top of his toned pecs when they dip with a sudden hitched breath. “Yes. Yes yes yes, jus’ like that. Love everythin’ about this ngh- pussy, she’s started smelling sweeter e-even here, too. Fuck, you’re a goddess, pretty.”

Sounding as if he was in such heavenly agony - husky voice cracking a few octaves higher. His hold so vice-like on you that you can already feel yourself bruising. 

Sloppier. Needier.

Shit- Ino needed to see that dumbstruck look surely being fucked onto your face. He’s finding himself moving - body before mind - to face that reflective, floor-length mirror propped up at the end of your bed. 

He always knew that thing would come in handy.

You’re croaking out a moan at the wet texture of Ino’s mouth watering, sprinkling your heated skin with spatters of spit.

But who could blame him?

It was such a sultry sight - to watch your bloated lips be pried apart by his reddened circumference, spraying out saturated glazes of your sweet, sweet juices each and every time. 

“See? See?” Ino’s murked puffs tinge with something higher-pitched and wild. Pearly white edges of his teeth sink into your delicate lobe, and make your skin break out in goosebumps. “How fucked you have me. Think m’gonna hngh- die if I don’t fuh-fuck this pretty pussy. If I don’t make you cum-”

Shit, he doesn’t even want to imagine the thought.

Your kiss-bitten mouth slackens into a loose oh! “Wanna- I wanna cum, Taku—” Twisting your head ‘round to face him with a slight pout that makes his entire body jolt.

“Y-yeah?” So, so pretty with a dopey smile being spread all across his face, you’re leaning in to kiss the cratering dimple at the edge of his plump lips. “C’mon. Fuck back into me- ngh- use me ta make yerself cum.”

You’re heading his every word, thighs aching at the fatigued pain of bouncing your hips in a resounding pap! pap! pap! Grinding your treacly slit all the way back into his fattened balls, “L-like this?”

“Atta girl. Harder, now.” His brows furrow. “Harder.”

More more more.

Words petering out halfway into a snarl at this point, you glimpse at the glint of Ino’s sharp canines peeking through the mirror. “Fuck me. Fuck me, pretty.”

“Taku.”

And you’re not sure who wanted you to cum more - you, or your feverish boyfriend. 

But your spellbound self had some semblance of an answer when the sound of his name on your honeyed tongue makes Ino flinch as if hit with a zillion volts of electricity.makes him dart down a hand to grace your neglected clit with an oh-so-rude pinch.

Ino’s fuzzy brain wasn’t even working enough to remember those patterns you loved so much. To remember just how to make his body move.

All he knew was that he needed this.

Needed the way you’re arching your spine into the perfect curvature against his glissading front, head thrown back with a mewl of Taku—! once you finally tip over the edge.

He finds his mouth falling gape, “Y-you’re so fucking hot.” Eyes locked on the trembly image of you in the mirror, he fucks you through every white-hot peak of your high. Babbling away,”Did your dear Taku m-make you cum, sweetness? Does it feel good? 

Oh, the audacity of him to tip a few thick digits underneath your chin and force you to nod. 

Giggling, “Thought so-” And then it happens. Then, he leans in for a sweet, sweet kiss as he usually does - only to be wafted with a murky cloud of pheromone perfume. Again. You watch as Ino blushes a soft pink, “Hey, p-pretty…so…”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Everyday is everyday.

Everyday means everyday - and it still wouldn’t be enough. Not even after so many countless rounds and rounds.

Never, for a Gojo Satoru that has to grit his pearly white teeth viciously to stop himself from using just an ounce too much of his strength on your pliable body and breaking you. 

Snarling canines peeking out just when he nestles your legs over two broad shoulders and bends down, down, down in half. 

“Hngh- please—” Your chin hits the heaving edges of your chest at the burn of the sheer stretch. Gojo’s muscular thighs sticking against your own and pressing into the inflated little pouch he’d made at your tummy. Filled to the brim with his sappy cum-

“Th-that’s all your fault, y’know–” He’s hissing, handsome jaw clenching desperately to stop those tremoring keens from invading his words. He fails. And Gojo can already tell by the smug smile curling your lips, “-all b-because of you and that fuck! damn perfume.”

Nevermind that he was the one that bought it for you in the first place - some niche, overpriced brand dropped straight into your lap. 

Nevermind the fact that he had come up with the idea. 

Oh, you should’ve known that this is what wearing pheromone perfume around the strongest would get you.

Because Gojo Satoru was breaking - shattering. 

Every pressurized thrust of his leaking out a new wave of overstimulated pre frosting up your slicked entrance. Accompanied hand-in-lecherous-hand with shockwaves of cursed energy that make your unbolted furniture drag magnetized centimeters all the way towards the creaking bed. 

“Sh-shit your p-powers—” you’re whining, eyes widening at the hazy sight of blue lightning flickering across Gojo’s sweat-lathered body. 

“My p-p-powers, huh, sweetheart?” He’s leaning in to whisper, eyes wide. Wild. Breath hitching so many octaves higher that it sends your spine arching with a goosebumped chill. All into his awaiting touch, “And whose- fault- is that—?”

You’re not sure if you’re a genius - or just plain idiotic. Because even feeling the withheld power being those very same soft palms holding your boneless thighs up, you find it in yourself to snark. “Yours.”

And Gojo almost stops. 

If that didn’t torture him just as much as that would torture you, that is. Instead, he’s slowing down to sleazy drags n’ grinds pressing gluey peck after peck on your cervix. 

Such sweet, sweet leisure - yet, his words were tense. He breathes out a shallow cloud of air, “Whose?” 

Gojo’s tone was dangerous. And his battering rams even more so.

“Y-y- ngh!” Saved by a particularly hard slam of all his copious inches digging into your glutinous g-spot, it leaves a bulky circular branding that stings deliciously with every targeted buck.

You can feel yourself slowly being fucked into stupidity with every swash of thickly viscous cum swirling around your insides. And you already know by the buzzing pressure around his cerulean eyes that he was taking unfair advantage of his Six Eyes to make sure his veiny cock reaches each and every single spot inside your pretty pussy.

Locking your dangling ankles with one hand behind his head - the noticeable flex of Gojo’s pale biceps makes you moan. 

Trapped. 

Oh- how pretty you were like this, he muses, eyeing the wobbly quiver of your needy lips. Both of them. And you were so loud, too - your saturated cunt so desperate to chat up at him with ringing squelches that carry over your adorable noises. 

Maybe he should let you hit him with a waft of that special pheromone perfume more often.

His round nostrils flare, hyper-sensitive senses greedily gulping out each ounce and waft you’re letting off. Every repeated pap! of Gojo’s hipbones follows one of his choked-out syllables, “I said- Whose?”

Someone sobs - and only a few sloppy seconds do you realize that it’s you. Words coming out helplessly garbled, “M-mine.”

At that very moment, a dimly-lit lamp across your heady bedroom shatters. 

Sharp shards of glasses bounce off the two of your fervently glissading bodies, limitless. 

But if that was taxing for the strongest - then he doesn’t show it. Not even a sign. Gojo only angles his hip a few degrees to the right to bounce into your spongy cervix even harsher. In rough, jagged strokes as if it was nothing.

In fact, by the filmy glaze overtaking his hooded eyes, you think that it might just be nothing. You think that he might not even have realized what was happening. 

Pressing a drunken trailway of kisses down the helpless curve of your calf, he grins. Toothy. Animalistic. “Atta girl.”

Pulpy soft tips of Gojo’s fingers slide sneakily down to your messy pussy, drivelling up slow slides up and down your teary entrance. Just until you were getting comfortable - just until you were letting your guard down. Silly girl. 

Before slipping past your tight ring of resistance and prying you open doubly. And oh, you should’ve expected that when Gojo gets the job done - he’s going above and beyond to make sure you remember it. 

That you’re his.

Pummeling right into the throbbing bullseye of your g-spot, the edges of his long digits hit that spot so hard that you find yourself bawling. Eyes snapping open- before promptly closing as you cum.

Your high is a shock - a white-hot mess of such euphoria. 

Tipping right over the edge - and it might’ve been a surprise to you, but Gojo saw it coming a mile away with those special eyes of his. Chuckling to himself at the velvety smooch of your sappy walls milking every inch of him.

“There we go- there we g-go, my girl.” He’s pumping you so thoroughly full that you feel your vision blur, the vibrating buzz of Gojo’s cursed energy being fed into you with each strike. “Cum- cum f’me. H-heh, all because- because of me-”

Your tits bump up into his plush pecs, sensitive nubs of your nipples brushing against his rosy pink ones. You’re reaching out a trembling hand to cup Gojo’s pretty face - one he leans into and kisses. “T-Toru—!”

Just about all you can manage out.

And your orgasm might not have been a surprise to him, but Gojo’s own absolutely was.

It happens in a split second - just after that nickname spills from the honeyed tip of your tongue. 

Gojo’s snowy lashes flutter upwards, sweat-slicked brows raising all the way to the edges of his silky fringe. Bubblegum lips parting into an oh! only falling further and further slack with every creamy ribbon shot upwards into you. 

It floods, it pours. And you can feel your flooded pussylips overspilling before he’s even halfway through his orgasm.

Oozing out glutinous wads of cum with every pump - Gojo had no rhythm now, he had no rhyme. Nothing but the carnal need to push every ounce of his fatly beading seed deeper n’ deeper into your pretty pussy, heated pink crownhead swirling out what feels like hearts at the very door to your womb.

You’re so full you could explode-

A hand rovers over that inflationary bulge - bigger now. “Oh, sweetheart…”

Was that really your loving boyfriend? He sounded so ruined right about now, hoarse. You couldn’t even blink your eyes up to make out the expression on his face because the lights had exploded. Possibly in every ward of Tokyo.

You feel it before you see it.

The familiar, shrill puff! of that pheromone perfume being sprayed on you- what? 

With a sharp gasp, you’re looking back n’ forth between the shiny sheen of liquid spritzed once more over your skin and Gojo’s ever-loving smile.

“Oh, whoops.” Soft snickers punctured with a loooong sniff of the air - of you. And Gojo’s eyes take on a predatory glint that makes your entire body wrack with shivers. “Better hope you’re on ngh- b-birth control, girl.”

“...”

A/N. Fun fact, the entirety of Sri Lanka had a six hour power cut while I was writing this because some monkey jumped onto a power line </33

Plagiarism not authorized.

[markrosewater]

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

[why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat]

It's calming, one of the few times I can exist in public and not have something be expected from me. And I get people to massage my scalp, which due to my germaphobia makes it hard for me to be okay with unless it deems my hair dirty enough to be touched by others, and their hands clean enough to touch. Which doesn't happen unless I watched them wash their hands . . .

It sucks because I actually really do like getting a scalp massage, but since their hands are actively cleaning my hair it's a loophole I'm able to use lolol

I know a lot of people find it uncomfortable and invasive but I actually kinda love my head being manhandled at the barber's. Every time they tilt my head or move me to one side I feel like a docile sheep about to have my winter coat shorn off by a well trained farmer with strong but gentle hands

[simpforboys]

more frat!perv!manipulator!rafe who is still obsessed w topper’s dumb gf

warnings: groping, manipulating, ditsy/dumb/innocent!reader, handjob, praise, cheating, kissing, brief thigh humping

thank you for 6,000 friends <33

find part one here

It shouldn’t have surprised Rafe, really. Topper is your boyfriend, after all.

But when Rafe walked in on you sitting on Topper’s lap, giggling at some compilation of cats doing funny things, it irritated Rafe more than anything.

“Hi, Rafey.” You greet him warmly, your pretty eyes flicking up to see his cold blue ones.

“Hey, sweetness.” Rafe murmurs, although he doesn’t look at you like he typically does. He just hated being around you and Topper together, when you were so affectionate, knowing that you were with his best friend and not him.

“How was class, man?” Topper asks, his hand absentmindedly running up and down your crossed legs. You were only wearing some leggings and a crop top, a more casual afternoon.

“S’fine.” Rafe grunts, taking off his snapback and running a hand through his hair.

He moved over to his twin xl and hopped up on it, his back against the pillow as he propped himself up on an elbow and started scrolling on his phone, trying desperately to block out you sitting on Topper’s lap.

“You don’t wanna watch cat videos with us, Rae?” You ask, turning to look at the tall man who is lying with his thighs spread out a bit.

“‘m good,” he replies shortly.

You frown, but before you could even think about going back to watching the cute kitties, Topper was patting your thigh.

“I gotta go do somethin’, babe. I’ll be back in like twenty minutes.”

You hum, getting off your boyfriend’s lap as he stood up. You gave Topper a small peck, watching as he grabbed his wallet and keys, before uttering a “goodbye” to you and Rafe.

You turned, looking at Rafe. His eyes were already on you, a slight snarl on his lips.

“Are you okay, Rafey?” You ask, moving to the side of his lifted bed.

Rafe stares at you for a minute, not saying anything, the throbbing his cock is feeling against his jeans too distracting.

You poked his meaty thigh, feeling upset for your friend that he was feeling so down.

“Y’know what could make me feel better, sweet girl?” He hummed, a twisted idea forming in his mind as he turned his phone off and set it down on the bed.

“Hm?”

“A kiss.” He says bluntly, blue eyes fixated on the sight of your tummy poking out from the hem of the crop top and waistband of the leggings.

You just smile, leaning over to peck his cheek. You weren’t a stranger to giving Rafe kisses on the cheek or forehead, or him doing the same.

He grabbed your wrist before you could pull away, though. “Not there, baby.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

He had to internally roll his eyes. That stupid pout and look of confusion only made his cock harder.

Stupid girl.

“A real kiss, sweetness.”

You pondered it, lips still in a small pout. Your insides twisted, a weird feeling in your heart and tummy.

“I dunno, Rafe…”

“C’mon, pretty girl. S’jus’ me, yeah? Y’know only you can make me feel better.” He convinced, trying to resist the urge to just push his lips onto yours.

You went silent for a moment, just staring at him, looking unsure.

“We’re not doin’ anythin’ wrong, Y/n. You’re jus’ tryna cheer me up, ain’t that right?”

You let out a small huff, but nod. You did wanna cheer up Rafe, it killed you whenever he got so upset.

You leaned over the bed, his big hand moving to your thigh to help pull you up until you were almost hovering over the side of his body.

He kept his hand on your thigh, squeezing it a bit, feeling precum leak from his aching tip as he licked his own lips.

You both leaned in, him a bit too eagerly, you a bit too cautiously.

Your lips collided, and Rafe immediately took control and dominance. He hums into it, his left hand moving to the back of your neck, so you can’t pull away.

You had to put your hand on his thigh to keep yourself upright, which in response, he let out a small moan into the kiss.

His kisses were different than Topper’s. Topper was controlled, slow, sweet, gentle.

Rafe was desperate, dominant, rough, lustful.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, trying not to bust in his underwear when your tongue slid against his. He could still sense your hesitation, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

His right palm left your thigh, lifting your crop top up a bit as it shamelessly groped your tit through your bra. He felt you huff through your nose against his, and he couldn’t help but buck his hips up a bit.

“Mhm— you okay?”

You pull away, feeling him buck. You panted a bit, your lips swollen, as you looked down at his waistline.

“‘m jus’ feelin’ so needy, sweetness. Can ya help me?” He asks, giving you those puppy dog eyes.

The blue irises were just a weakness — no matter who had them.

“Um…” You hesitated, face warm. But then he took your palm and placed it on his clothed bulge, letting you feel how hard he is.

Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, Rafe was already unbuttoning the jeans, the words Lucky You embroidered. He pushed them down just enough, along with his navy blue boxer briefs, for his raging hard-on to stand out.

A small noise left you, one that caused more precum to leak from the dark pink mushroom tip.

“Ya trust me, yeah?” He hums, caressing your cheek.

You hesitantly nodded, eyes locked onto the big dick. Topper’s wasn’t this big… it was like the ones you see in porn.

He had to hide the devilish smirk on his lips as he spit on his own hand and guided it down to his throbbing shaft. “Gimme your hand, sweetness.”

Your hand shook as you held it out for him, a heat pooling in your tummy when your palm and fingers wrapped around him.

“Now move it up ‘n down… jus’ like that…”

He coos, throwing his head back a little as you began to hesitantly, and curiously, stroke his cock.

His big hand went back up to grope your tit, feeling the soft flesh as you continued to jerk him off, thinking you were just helping him.

You may be Topper’s girlfriend, but Rafe knew you were his dumb helper.

“S’good, pretty girl… makin’ Rafey feel good…”

He’s already trying desperately not to cum, but the way you were stuck staring at his erection, like it baffled your innocent brain was quickly sending him to the edge.

“I-is this right, Rafey?” You choke out.

“Mhmm… it feels right, ain’t it?” He groans, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss.

He starts to thrust up into your hand, soft moans and whimpers leaving him.

But what really sent him over the edge was when he saw you start to grind your clothed cunt on his thigh, completely oblivious to your own needs, distracted on helping him.

“F-fuck… keep goin’ baby, don’t stop—“

He grunts, panting as his warm seed spills all over your hand. Rafe’s head is still thrown back against his pillow, those pretty blue eyes half lidded as he stared at your face.

“You’re a good girl, baby… such a good girl f’me.”

He murmurs, pulling you forward to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

[bi-writes]

What do we think about price x young!Wife reader who is kept away from the team (for obvious reasons) and when she is on base to bring some important files to his office, world collide

I think it would be really cute if she gets mistaken for a recruit

he's not moving fast enough for you.

you roll your window down even more, sticking your head out, and you slide your sunglasses down your nose so you can meet eyes with the muppet standing guard at the gates.

"repeat that for me?"

"you're not on the list," the man repeats. he narrows his eyes at you. "all guest personnel must be approved before they enter. i don't make the rules, but i do enforce them."

you raise a brow. your manicured finger slides down the steering wheel, tracing the leather of it, and you let out a deep breath before laughing humorlessly.

"okay. i need you to get on your stupid radio and get captain john price on there. then, you're going to tell him who exactly is waiting here, and then after he informs you that you will let me through, i'm going to make sure you spend the next two weeks scrubbing fucking toilets." you sit back in your seat. you don't mean to be rude or mean, you're usually very kind and very considerate, but you are about to blow the roof off of your patience after the day you've had, and you just want to drop john's things off and go.

the guard scoffs, picking up his radio. he rolls his eyes at you before he goes back into his little office. after a few minutes, he comes back out. his eyes are on the floor, and he comes up to your window and gives you back your id. you toss it into your purse, and he clears his throat nervously.

"i-i'm so...i-i'm so sorry, mrs. price, i--"

"save it."

you put your car in drive and step on it. the purr of your pretty german car leaves the guard in the dust, and you park haphazard, taking up two spots, but you just grab your purse and john's papers and turn the car off anyways.

you're mrs. john fucking price. you'll park how you please, and they can get over it.

you're dressed more casually. you're wearing dark green cargo pants, a white t-shirt, sneakers, and one of john's army-green jackets. when you see yourself in the reflection of a window, you realize you kind of dressed appropriately for the setting, without even meaning to.

you open the door to the building john texted you about, and you walk in with your sunglasses still on. there's a lot of desks around, offices, an ugly mess of couches around a tv that a bunch of recruits are playing team fortress 2 at. they're whooping and yelling, but you pay them no mind as you follow a sign towards the office number john gave you.

you bump right into a big chest. you stumble backwards, scoffing, and you pull your sunglasses off as you tip your head back and glare up. there's some big, giant bear-man standing in your way, and he isn't moving.

"excuse me," you say firmly. "do we have a problem?"

the big dude tilts his head to the side, like he's sizing you up (which is stupid, since he's probably bigger than anyone). he's wearing a DIY skull mask, something messily sewed and painted with thick fingers, and you really want this halloween-enthusiast to get the fuck out of your way so you can leave as soon as possible.

"we? i don't got a problem."

his voice is deep. all gravel, very low, and his tone is very condescending. you may be smaller than him, but your teeth are sharper.

you're sure of that.

"but you've got one," he continues, narrowing his eyes. "those nails aren't regulation."

"excuse me?"

"you heard me."

"i did, but you must be fucking out of your mind if you think i answer to you."

"listen 'ere," the man spits. "i'm a fuckin' lieutenant, and y'r gonna talk t'me like i'm one before i have y'r arse--"

"get out of my way!" you snap at him. "as far as i'm concerned, i outrank every single idiot in this entire fucking building. i don't care if you're a sergeant, a lieutenant, i don't care if you're fucking royalty! move, or i'll make you, so help me god."

"simon."

at the sound, the bear turns around, stepping aside. when peek around his arm, you see your husband, arms crossed over his chest casually as he leans against the wall. he's got a relaxed smile on his face, boonie hat tipped back a little.

"well, this isn't how i wanted you two to meet," john chuckles.

"what, you know this meathead?" you scoff, and the lieutenant, simon, snarls like a dog at your response.

"simon, this is my wife."

simon steps back from you as if you'll sting him. he swallows, his face relaxing under the mask, and you glare at him. you don't expect an apology from someone like him, but you guess the way he reverts his eyes from you is the equivalent of it. you don't think a man like him ever feels out of place or threatened.

"love, this is my lieutenant."

"the lieutenant."

"quite right."

you let out a harsh breath through your nose. you don't say anything more to simon, just give him your back as you walk past him towards your husband. you don't say anything more to simon; he's saved your husband's life before, so he can be let off easy.

this time at least.

when you lift your hand to give john some papers, simon zeroes in on the giant rock on your left hand, the several carat diamond that sits there.

fuck.

"next time you need something from home, i'm gonna need the red carpet rolled out for me, understand me, john?" you tell him. john smiles, crow's feet deepening, and you narrow your eyes. "say you understand me, john."

"mhm. i understand."

"i don't mean just making sure my name is on some list, i mean an escort and a voss water. in the glass bottle."

"of course, sweetheart."

he bends to kiss you, and you let him. you put a hand under his jaw, thumbing at his beard, and the hat covers the way he lets his tongue slip out and into your mouth. if you didn't have an audience, the taste of tobacco on his tongue would be enough for you to kneel and suck his cock, but he's busy, and you have a hair appointment to get to.

you pull away slowly, touching his bottom lip.

"you better be home in time for dinner," you say. "seven. don't be late."

"won't be late."

his baby blues are so bright, even in the awful fluorescent light. you kiss him again, cupping the back of his neck, and when you pull away, you put your mouth to his ear.

"your office? got ten minutes?"

"no, sweetheart," he murmurs. "don't have it."

"john..." you grip the sides of his tact vest, pouting. "please? please?"

john sighs, shaking his head. he kisses your forehead before nodding behind you, to his lieutenant that still won't leave.

"walk her out, simon. make sure she leaves alright."

"olright."

simon opens your car door for you, and when you get in, you shove your seatbelt into place, angrily starting the car up again. you're having a bad day, and you're horny now.

"goodbye, lieutenant," you say smartly. "by the way, there's some smartass at the front that i told would have to scrub toilets. i trust that you can carry that out for me."

"'ow long?"

"told him two weeks, but i think a day will do just fine."

"'n why's tha'?"

"well, i'm not mad at him anymore, but i'm still a price. and price's follow through on their threats, lieutenant."

you put your sunglasses on, and the window goes back up. simon watches with rapt attention as you pull out with a rev of the engine, and when he glares at you, you smile, raising your hand to flip him off.

the big diamond on your hand blinds him as you drive off.

[kurzler]

a quick psa to anyone recently getting into greek mythology and is a victim of tumblr and/or tiktok misconceptions:

-there is no shame in being introduced to mytholgy from something like percy jackson, epic the musical or anything like that, but keep in mind that actual myths are going to be VERY different from modern retellings

-the myth of medusa you probably know (her being a victim of poseidon and being cursed by athena) isn't 100% accurate to GREEK mythology (look up ovid)

-there is no version of persephone's abduction in which persephone willingly stays with hades, that's a tumblr invention (look up homeric hymn to demeter)

-as much as i would like it, no, cerberus' name does not mean "spot" (probably a misunderstanding from this wikipedia article)

-zeus isn't the only god who does terrible things to women, your fav male god probably has done the same

-on that note, your fav greek hero has probably done some heinous shit as well

-gods are more complicated than simply being "god of [insert thing]", many titles overlap between gods and some may even change depending on where they were worshipped

-also, apollo and artemis being the gods of the sun and the moon isn't 100% accurate, their main aspects as deities originally were music and the hunt

-titans and gods aren't two wholly different concepts, titan is just the word used to decribe the generation of gods before the olympians

-hector isn't the villain some people make him out to be

-hephaestus WAS married to aphrodite. they divorced. yes, divorce was a thing in ancient greece. hephaestus' wife is aglaia

-ancient greek society didn't have the same concepts of sexuality that we have now, it's incorrect to describe virgin goddesses like artemis and athena as lesbians, BUT it's also not wholly accurate to describe them as aromantic/asexual, it's more complex than that

-you can never fully understand certain myths if you don't understand the societal context in which they were told

-myths have lots and lots of retellings, there isn't one singular "canon", but we can try to distinguish between older and newer versions and bewteen greek and roman versions

-most of what you know about sparta is probably incorrect

-reading/waching retellings is not a substitute to reading the original myths, read the iliad! read the odyssey! i know they may seem intimidating, but they're much more entertaining than you may think

greek mythology is so complex and interesting, don't go into it with preconcieved notions! try to be open to learn!

[fushiguho]

bruh. just saw a video on twitter of the prettiest boy fucking his hand as he was eating his lady out… like he was so so so incredibly desperate and all i could think about is sweet sweet suguru geto who breathes to please his perfect little girlfriend and gets so fucking horny doing so.

cw cunnilingus, masturbation, multiple orgasms implied

like his legs just shamelessly sprawled, bare back slumped against the edge of the bed while the base of his head presses into the messy, ruffled duvet. the slender column of his throat is exposed and he’s arched so sexily, spine bowing almost achingly as his stomach caves, hips rutting.

he’s completely bare; that long, writhing body seated so erotically on the carpeted floor, you on his face. as his narrow frame stretches allll the way up the side of the bed, your body is perched right against his lips. you sit on the edge of the bed, feet resting upon his shoulders, your warm, swollen clit repeatedly glissading over his button nose while you ride him so fucking good.

god and his mouuthhhh. he’s completely unabashed as he indulgently devours you, glossy lips noisily smacking against your pretty, dripping cunt—tongue so fucking hot and wet as he hungrily pushes it inside of you, feasting like you’re a plate of the finest delicacy. a loud cry leaves you and his hips buck in response, chasing the furious jerk of his fist as you fuck his face like the toy he so desperately needs to be.

the pad of his thumb is swiping over the warm, leaking head of his cock at the same time he’s pulling your pretty lil’ clit between his greedy lips and sucking. every sound that leaves you is reciprocated, lost in the unruly wet depths of your cunt as he utterly embodies your pleasure, breaths synchronous.

“mmphf,” his pleasureful cries are muffled, dampened by the warmth of your cunt as you grind it onto his tongue. “f— fuck my t-tongue… moreee, gimme more.” greed drips from his tone, his broken sentences growing lower and whinier with unbearable need. “god, come hereeee.”

geto’s vacant hand is snaking up your waist, clinging to the thick of your hip before dragging you impossibly closer, smothering himself between the fat of your thighs like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. you gasp and geto moans, flattening his tongue to finish you the only way he knows how, sloppily.

and there are just so many orgasms… geto is probably three or four deep and you’re not far behind. you lean forward onto the mattress before firmly planting your wobbly hands against the disheveled sheets, grounding yourself so that you can properly fuck your pussy into his mouth, chasing your release for the third time in a row.

“fuck! thereee,” it’s hardly a growl as you sluttily arch your back, an electrifying heat torpedoing toward your achingly swollen clit. “there… right fucking there, god!”

he’s feral, heavy balls tightening in a horrendous need to release as he forces precum from the swollen head of his cock. the vein that runs along the underside of his pretty, hooked shaft is hot against the palm of his jerking hand, throbbing so desperately with each drag of his fist. god, he’s a fucking mess with it too—all of his previous loads stickily cascading down his pectorals and abdomen, chest heaving.

your final orgasm is synchronous, the two of you creaming at once. geto is obnoxious, moaning like such a slut as he greedily slurps you up, noisily cleaning your sloppy little hole free of the mess you’ve made. once again, he cums a lot and hard, panting against your slick cunt between his tender kisses to your ravaged clit.

drunkenly, geto smiles up from between your thighs. “one more?”

[fushitoru]

ranking types of hugs he'd be comfortable with another guy giving his gf! a nanami kento fic / drabble

cw: nanami kento x reader, a little suggestive maybe, established relationship, fluff, nanami is a green flag but he's just a man, light jealousy / posessiveness, crack, based off this (instagram link). gojo ver here

general masterlist

"Ranking types of hugs I'd be comfortable with another guy giving my girlfriend." 

Kento’s not the type to aimlessly scroll on his phone --- he prefers to be in the present, not deplete “his reserves of dopamine” too quickly, but right now he’s bored. You’ve yet to come from work---you’d texted him you were running late, buying some groceries---so Kento’s laid on the couch looking at his phone. Even though he hates using social media and the rabbit holes that result from said use, he answers your reels and TikToks religiously. After all, he values everything you have to say, even though they are a bit silly.

But just before he could respond to the baby fever videos you sent him----he does have to admit, it’s a bit cute---his screen auto scrolls onto the next piece of 30-second content, and with that, he’s hooked, observing the slots of rankings the filter auto generates for the guy on his screen.

For a bit, he multitasks on looking at the video and reading the comments, then frowns at how possessive they seem. 

catcher hug is 1000 bodies 😭😭

No one is hugging my girl

PUT EVERYTHING AT 11 CUH

a/n lmaoo these are real comments on the link above honestly i love when men are pathetic

Surely, it can’t be that bad … right?

Kento prides himself on being an emotionally mature and secure man. It’s not to say he doesn’t have his own flaws, but while it seems the rest of his gender has fallen to the gym bro gurus and alpha male podcast bros, he’s involved himself in constant communication with you and makes sure to educate himself. 

And yet. He doesn’t know he’s going to almost be on the brink of tears as he opens the filter to try it out by himself.

The filter shuffles, presenting the first option: A back hug.

Kento exhales sharply through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly. He doesn’t immediately react, but there’s a flicker of something in his gaze. He ranks it a nine.

Then, the next: A slow dance hug.

His jaw tightens. The thought of you in someone else’s arms, swaying under dim lights, your cheek resting against another man’s chest—it’s enough to make something unpleasant curl in his stomach. Ten.

The filter shuffles again. One-armed hug. He sighs through his nose, rubbing his temple. Three. Acceptable. Barely.

e waits, trying to keep his thoughts level, but when the next option rolls in, his grip on his phone tightens. A slow catcher hug.

His face is blank. He blinks once. Twice.

Then, a deep, audible sigh fills the room as he drags a hand down his face, thumb and forefinger pressing against the bridge of his nose.

The image is unwelcome, vivid—someone else catching you, your legs wrapping around their waist, the ease, the familiarity.

His phone clatters onto his chest, and he stares at the ceiling. The muscles in his jaw are taut, his lips pressed in a firm line. A moment passes. Then another.

And that’s how you find him—lying on the couch, stiff as a board, staring blankly upwards like he’s contemplating the meaning of life itself.

“Sweetheart?” you call, stepping closer. You set down your groceries, taking in his unusually tense form. He doesn’t immediately acknowledge you, just continues his thousand-yard stare.

“What’s wrong?” you press, now more concerned. “Are you feeling sick?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, still staring at the ceiling. Then, in a voice that’s a little too measured, he finally speaks.

“If another man so much as thinks about catching you in his arms, I’ll break both of them.”

You freeze. Blink.

“… What?”

Finally, he turns his head to look at you, eyes dark and serious, but there’s something almost resigned in his expression—like he knows he’s being ridiculous but can’t bring himself to care. You’re surprised at the turn of events to---it’s unlike him to be so…possessive and droopy. It’s actually really cute---he reminds you uncharacteristically of a wet, droopy dog.

“I don’t like that filter.” His voice is calm, but his fingers twitch slightly where they rest on his stomach. “I don’t like thinking about other men touching you.”

It’s so unlike him—so openly possessive—that you’re momentarily stunned into silence. Then, amusement bubbles up in your chest.

“Did you just get jealous over a TikTok filter?” you tease, stepping closer.

He exhales, slow and long, closing his eyes briefly before muttering, “I was curious. I regret it.”

You bite back a smile, reaching down to brush your fingers against his jaw. He leans into the touch, almost instinctively, before sighing again.

“You’re the only one I want to touch me, Kento.” you reassure, and his lips finally quirk at the edges—barely, but it’s there.

“I know,” he says, voice softer now. “But if I ever see a man standing with his arms open around you…” He exhales one final time, shaking his head before murmuring, “… I can fight.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before moving to put away the groceries, leaving him lying there, still brooding.

As you walk away, you hear him mutter under his breath, just loud enough to catch:

“Slow catcher hug… ridiculous.”

general masterlist

a/n first time writing for nanami kinda nervous :') i have def areas to improve upon but for the meantime pls accept this <3 thank you for the req cutie !! @girlyuuta choso ver is going to come too :3

[slapmeshigaraki]

♡ can't get my mind off of possessive!xavier who gets off on seeing you get jealous too

"See, there was no reason to be pouting all night, hm?” You couldn’t help but write against the grip of the man behind you, his rough hand grabbing your face, forcing your eyes to meet his over your shoulder. He almost looked possessed, his normally sweet gaze was different now...soft blue eyes darkened as he looked at you, ravenous.

“Admit it—you were jealous. All that attitude the whole ride home, giving me the silent treatment—fuck—just because I was talking to another girl. You say I’m possessive, but I think you might be worse than me, princess.” He was almost growling into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as his chest pushed you forward, forcing your tits against the sliding glass door that led out to the balcony. The heat from your sensitive nipples and your warm flesh causing the glass to fog up as he pressed you into it. The dim moonlight illuminated his face, eyes staring into your soul as he thrusted himself into you relentlessly. It was as if you were in a trance, mouth hanging open, panties down around your ankles, as Xavier forced himself in and out of your hole at a pace that made you clench around him just right. It was perfect—at least until that oh-so perfect pace was disrupted, the once full feeling suddenly gone as your face was jerked lightly from side to side.

“Unh uh, you don't get to play braindead slut this time. Pay attention—tell me what I wanna hear or I’ll stop.” You were whining now, your body quivering from the unexpected lack of stimulation.

“I was jealous.” You whispered, that same pout you’d worn all night was back on your face again, bottom lip poking out in shame at the confession, wide eyes looking up at the man that was towering over you. Both of your bodies were slick with sweat, chests rising and falling erratically amidst the tension, lips barely an inch apart. You wanted to taste him so bade, to feel the warmth of his tongue sliding in and out of your mouth as he grinded into you—just the though was making your clit ache between your thighs.

“Aw, you were?” Now he was the one to whine, a similar frown painting his face—mocking you. The sinister look in his eyes made even more wetness pool between your legs as he slowly slid himself back inside you, just the tip.

“Its not as fun when you’re not the one making me jealous, huh? Doesn’t feel good to see something that belongs to you with someone else, does it?” he said, reveling in the way you shook under his touch as he slid his fingers across your skin, slowly but surely making his way to that needy little spot hidden between your legs

“N-no…”

“No? But you always tell me it’s silly to be jealous, right? That I’m overreacting. Is that not what you’re doing right now?” His fingers lightly rubbed against your clit, your juices coating his skin as he spread your lips open, being careful not to push you back onto his cock any further.

“In fact, it’s not just silly for you to be jealous. It’s stupid. You are all I think about. I-” another inch slid inside of you, a soft gasp escaping both of your mouths, “Fuck—I dream about your face, your voice, your body—the way this fucking cunt sucks on the tip of my cock just right. We fit together so perfectly…for you to think that I could ever want someone else is just dumb, right?” With that, his hips slammed fully into you, pulling a scream out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back into your head, the nasty words making your cheeks grow hot from embarrassment.

“Xavier, oh my god. Pleaseee…please let me cum. I promise I won’t—“ Your words were abruptly cut off by one of his arms snaking around your body, his palm pushing itself against your plush lips, silencing your begging and muffling your whimpers as his other hand kept toying with your pussy, his fingers petting your just right like he'd done so many times before.

“Shut up. You’re dumb, remember? If you don’t have anything smart to say, then I don’t want to hear you at all.” His muscled arms held you up, keeping your knees from buckling beneath you as he quickened his pace. The most disgusting sounds filled the room, your hole squelching and squealing with every move Xavier made inside of you. His thick cock was forcing the sweetest cries out of your aching cunt, much to his amusement—a small smile creeping across his lips.

“You may be stupid, but this pussy is fucking brilliant. Listen to how nicely she to talks to me, none of that attitude I get from your filthy mouth, huh?” He pressed his palm further against your mouth, silencing your silly little whines and babblings almost entirely, “Shhhh… let me hear her, princess. Be good for me, yeah?.” You tried your best not to have to bite Xavier’s hand just to quieten yourself completely, but he could barely hear your moans any longer anyway—the sounds of his heavy breathing, your ass clapping against him, your little pussy sobbing out for relief was the only song playing in his head any longer.

“Shiittt she’s milking me so good. I think she likes having an audience. What a nasty girl…” An audience? Your face--he was almost sure that the expression alone was going to have him coming within the next two seconds. He couldn’t help but let out a round of laughter at the sight of your eyes widening at his words, brows furrowing as he continued fucking into you, his cock aching more with every thrust. His hand forcing your face forward back towards the glass. You squinted slightly, eyes adjusting to see a window belonging to the apartment across from yours. It was dimly lit, but there was a familiar figure staring back at you, her face contorted in disbelief.

“Getting all mad at me for talking to our new neighbor who was asking me what flavor muffins she should bring over to introduce herself to my sweet girlfriend… tsk.” Horrified, your new neighbor ran in the opposite direction, shielding her eyes from the lewd view of your nipples squished against the glass, mouth covered, a hand between your legs while Xavier held you hostage in his arms, his face flushed, hair glued to his forehead, both of your bodies sticky with each other’s sweat—how fucking filthy it must’ve been. "Doubt we'll be getting that tray of chocolate chip muffins anytime soon, huh baby?" You tried to turn your face away from the glass for the sudden fear that someone else may end up seeing the two of you, but it was no use, Xavier’s grip on your cheeks was far too tight.

“No no no don’t look away. Don’t you want everyone to know who I come home to every night? Don’t you want to show everyone who my good girl is? My sweet princess taking my cock so well, drooling into my hand—you’re mine. Say it.” Your lips were suddenly freed by his palm, a string of saliva glistened between your mouth and his flesh as he pulled it back. You were sure to respond quick, realizing that if you didn’t use your brief liberation wisely, Xavier had every intention of punishing you for the rest of the night.

“Yours I’m yours. I belong to you—please fuck, you feel so good inside of me. I can’t hold it anymore please let me cum.” A strike of lightning rippled through your body as the tip of his cock finally pushed against your g-spot, once, then it was twice, and then a third time—over and over again without rest until your sweet screams flooded his ears once more. You tried to squirm away, fingers reaching back, desperately trying to pull off of you just a little so you could catch your breath, but he was quick to grab you, forcing your arm behind your back, creating an ever deeper arch in your spine.

“Where you running off to? Do you want to cum or not, I’m confused, princess? You pushing me away—does it not feel good?” His lips were against your ear again, tongue running over the shell, gently biting your flesh just the way you liked as he continued abusing your poor aching hole.

“No no so good—feel so good, can’t cum yet though. Please god please.”

“Poor baby, why can’t you cum yet, sweet girl? Is it not enough? Do I need to rub you faster, hm? Pinch this little clit between my fingers—oh look at that, she’s so swollen against my hand. What's the matter, don't you like when I play with you?” You mind was so clouded, tongue hanging out of your mouth as his lips licked and sucked your skin, teeth nipping your neck, leaving his mark as he forced more of those precious begs out of you. You were close, so painfully close that you were drooling at the thought of finally getting to cum around him, painting his fingers with your sweet juices, clenching around his cock as he stretched you around him—but you knew better.

“Need permission to cum please Xavier can I cum. Please please I promise—mmmh—I promise not to get jealous again. I’m yours.”

“Ohh you promise? Maybe you aren’t that dumb after all, baby. Or maybe you’ll just say anything to get me to let you cum. Is that it? Are you a liar, princess?” His fingers stalled between your legs, hips suddenly not snapping forward into you anymore. It wasn't more than a second later that you'd started begging for him to start up again, your body burning to feel him back inside of you once more. He thought you were so cute like this—so pliable, so desperate for his touch you were willing to say anything just to feel him.

“Nooo not lying not—I wouldn’t lie to you. Please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, you telling the truth? You know dumb girls don’t get to cum. But you’re not dumb anymore, right? You my smart girl, princess?”

“Yes yes I’m telling the truth. Smart, I’m gonna be smart, please I just need—“ Every inch of his length sunk back into you at once, warm fingers unexpectedly gliding over your slippery clit again.

“Good girl, that’s what I wanna hear. Cum for me, go ahead. It’s okay princess, let me feel it, please cum on my cock. I know you can do it, so fucking pretty like this. I need it, come on do a good job for me. ” So you came—squirming and writhing in Xavier’s strong arms as he held you close, whispering soft praises in your ear. Curses and moans left your lips, your arm finally going limp in his grasp, thighs squeezing and clamping down around his hand as his fingers flitted against your clit while you slowly came down.

For some reason though, just as you were catching your breath, muscles finally relaxing after the waves of pleasure dissipated and you felt Xavier’s length sliding out of you—your felt him forcing himself back in, pushing your sloppy walls apart again without any warning. He wasn’t trying to fuck you fast anymore, now he was fucking you hard, stretching you open agonizingly slow before sliding back out and and doing it all over again. The overstimulation caught up to you as you realized…he wasn’t close to being done.

“Xavier wait, I’m too sensitive to—oh my god,” You tried to push yourself away with your free hand, but he only ended up grabbing that one and holding it hostage behind your back as well.

“No no I’m not stopping. C’mon that’s not fair is it? Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you have to take care of your things, hm?” You were screaming now, the sensations overwhelming your body as you cried out his name.

“You’re mine, but I am yours. You have to take care of me too, yeah, baby? Please, let me cum for you too, hm? Don’t you want to make me feel good?” he said, pressing a soft kiss into the crook of your neck.

“Mhm wanna make you cum too.” He knew you meant it, despite the way the tears stung the inner corners of your eyes and your soft tummy tightened and convulsed around him, your body falling limp in his arms. He knew that you wanted him to fill you up, to feel his sticky cum dripping out of you has he pulled out, to have his thick fingers stuffing his babies back inside of you. You were so perfect for him—how could he ever want anyone else?

“Aw, that’s my smart girl.”

♡ a/n: ummmm had this idea sitting in the drafts for quite a bit, but the new banner dropping finally inspired me to finish it !! quite short and not super edited but i hope u enjoy,, happy friday angels xx

[inspired-lesson-plans]

Social Studies, grades K-2, Connecting with History

Do Now:

Turn and talk.

What do you think it was like to be a kid 500 years ago? How would it be different than being a kid today?

Class Discussion:

Discuss their thoughts from the Do Now, then transition into showing the doodles provided by @bemusedlybespectacled without providing any context. Ask them when they think those drawings were done and how they can tell. In the former, note that the drawing is done with a stylus instead of a pencil, and in the latter have the students observe that there are castles, horses, and bows and arrows.

Direct Instruction:

Explain to students that historians only know about what happened in the past because of what people in the past left behind. Old books and scrolls tell us what they used to believe, or about the lives of important people. Old weapons and tools show us how good their technology was. For example, show the stone age spears vs the 18th century pole arms.

Drawings of plants and animals show us what animals used to live there and what they looked like. For example, the Lascaux cave paintings in France

Or the painting of watermelons from 17th century Europe

Guided Learning:

Ask students to turn and talk to discuss the following question.

What will people in the far-off future know about us from what we are leaving behind right now?

Regroup and hold another class discussion about what current humans are going to leave behind for people in the future to know about how we live.

Then, ask one last question.

What do you want people in the far-off future to know about your life?

Higher Order Learning:

Give students a doodle book to fill out. On every page, they should draw something about their lives or the world around them so that historians in the far-off future can study it and learn about the world of 2025. You may give a few examples as well as model a doodle in your own notebook. And, just like the Italian boy from the 1400s, they are encouraged to doodle in this book during school (unless they need to pay attention).

I was reading one of my childhood diaries the other day and there was a whole paragraph saying how hopeful I was that my writing will help the archeologists in the far future. Then it proceeded to describe my lunch that day and how my dog was probably secretly able to talk. 

[partiallysame]

More Price's lil wife

You met the boys once and now you need more obviously

Had you known something in the house breaking meant big strong sexy handsome muscle burly men would come over you would have lived life a little differently. Knowing your husband only sent his team to you because he was out of town meant you had to wait again until he was separated from the rest of 141. A quick phone call to your husband that the fridge wasn’t working (hammer to whatever the pipes and wires on the back were). And an hour later you felt like you were watching Bay Watch or staring at a sexy fireman’s calendar when here comes Riley, MacTavish, and Garrick hoping out of a large truck and strutting down your sidewalk. Tight shirts. Wind blowing. Tools in their hands being tossed and caught one handed why is that sexy? 

“Heard a sweet thing needed some help.” You’re drooling

Aw man, one look at the fridge and they say you need a new one. Too damaged. All staring at you knowingly and the hammer on the counter you definitely forgot to hide. But since their already here, how about some lunch. Soap admits that other than the last meal you made them he had only been eating mess hall foods. “Think of you and your delicious food everytime im eating there.” Now that simply won’t do. When Price gets back you will be asking (demanding) for them to come over for dinner at least once a month (once a week). 

They didn't even make it back to the car when you ran back out. ‘Oh i forgot there's a hole in the garage. (Same hammer from before now covered in drywall.) The power went out. No idea what happened. Lil ol you def didn’t flick every switch until something happened. Easy fix. Wait wait the wifi isn’t working now (unplugged). However many hours later they leave and you get a text from your husband.

“You can just ask for them to come over. Stop breaking things my love.” oops

[sevikaslatinawife]

Fuck You Back to Sleep

Warnings: dirty talk, strap on, top!sevika, r!receiving, afab!reader, sex guys it’s sex, mating press, possessiveness, light degradation (maybe?)

Something you noticed into your relationship with Sevika was that she was worried to lose you.

She didn’t say it, but she showed it.

Her eyes followed you wherever you moved. When you were out together and got separated because you got distracted or she had to talk to someone, her eyes darted to you. Just to make sure you were still there.

Her fears were valid, of course, and understandable. Here, in Zaun, where anything could happen, anything could hurt you. Anything could take you from her.

Recently, it had started to get worse. Partly due to her new status as Councilor and having to leave you, not only alone, but in a different part of where she was altogether.

However, you didn’t expect her to show her worry like this.

“That’s it, princess,” Sevika grunts as she fucks into you. The strap around her hips, over her clothes as she was just about to leave, glistening with your wetness.

“God,” you moaned, lips parted and swollen from kissing her earlier. “Sev, fuck,” You couldn’t think, couldn’t make your lips form any other word other than her name and profanities.

She had her hands around your calves, your legs pushed up at either side of your face while she drilled into you. Her thighs caged you beneath her, the angle perfect for you to feel her buried to the hilt of the strap on inside of you.

Her strokes were hard and deep. Her noises almost grunts and growls.

Your fingers were at the back of her neck, holding her closer. Your lips nipping and licking her throat. You could feel the shaved part of her head prickle your fingers as you grip her tighter when she finds it in herself to speed up.

“Taking me…” She grunts. “…so fucking good, baby.”

You moan again, head tilted back and eyes almost blurred with pleasure.

“Look at you,” She continues, leaning down to suck the skin of your throat. “Can’t even talk.”

“Vika,” You manage to choke out before another satisfied moan is slipping past your pink lips.

Your attempt to talk only makes her moan in turn, shifting her hold on your calves to hold your ankles with her metal hand. Her right hand drops to your cunt, rubbing circles to your neglected clit.

You arch your back, feeling your entrance greedily tighten around the toy.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” Sevika grunts as she thrusts into you, still rubbing your clit. “Fuck, let me see you come. I’m not fucking leaving until you come for me.”

“Y-You’re…” You moan, thighs bucking against her thrusts, tasting your orgasm. “…gon’ b-be late,” You pant.

Your hands come up to cup the back of her neck and hold her, stomach coiling as her breathing gets quicker.

“Don’t care, baby,” She leans down to bite your neck. It causes her to stretch you more around the toy, tugging at your trembling hole.

The bite makes you groan in response, your stomach almost quivering as you come.

Your neck tilts back, throat bared and jaw slack as a low, moan escapes your lips. Your thighs tremble around her, your hole pulsing around the toy buried to deep, grinding into that sweet little spot.

“Atta girl, baby,” Sevika hums, slowing down her thrusts as she rides the orgasm out of you, fingers still massaging your clit. You’re still shaking, stomach jolting as you moan.

“Poor baby’s shaking,” She fake coos, pressing your thighs more into the mattress beside your face after moving her hand from your clit. She gives you slow, painfully slow thrusts just to hear the churning of your wetness and come.

“God, wait,” you groan as she gives you one, final, hard thrust.

“I know, princess, I know,” She slowly pulls out of you and lays beside you.

You curl into her chest while your body stops its shaking, burying your nose into her neck, against her pulse to smell her skin.

She kisses the top of your head, tracing odd circles into your back. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep in her arms and she hates that she has to leave you.

But she’s needed and can’t skip this meeting. So she reluctantly pulls herself from you to tuck you in bed. She takes the toy off, and even has to change her pants because there’s an evident wet patch on her pants due to your cunt.

She gives your face light kisses, careful not to wake you up. She grins to herself smugly as she leaves, knowing you’re damn safe in bed.

⚙️❣️⚙️❣️⚙️❣️⚙️❣️

Thoughts?