#not even for others but just... for my sanity

[tonycries]

BUTTER

Synopsis. First time cúmming inside = first time losing his mind.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, breéding, cúmplay, men whímpering, virgínity loss (Choso), overstím, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu, GOJO’S POWERS, proposals, full nélson, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, p slápping, p talking, limitless, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Earned it.

“I-is she really tellin’ me to hah- f-fill her up inside, doll?” Toji breathes, dazed eyes locked down at your stuffed entrance. And he can barely focus his gaze - barely even try to sound like himself right now. “I-is this real?”

Ragged rasps just about half as ruined as he feels, lilting up in pitch. In strain. Sharp intakes of breath becoming so labored when his entire hulking body wracks with a heaving shiver. 

And Toji’s scrambling his thick fingers to latch roughly onto your face, your waist - anywhere and everywhere that might help him keep an ounce of his sanity.

But it was too late.

“Heh, did I hngh- fuck the rationality outta ya? You really want me t-to-” Head throwing back, he can’t even think of finishing his sentence. Of doing anything other than curling one set of fingers around your throat. Biceps flexing when he shoves you even harder onto all fours on the silken sheets, he cranes over to place a line of pretty pecks down your teary cheeks, panting, “Well…wh-whatever my girl wants- she gets, right?”

And he meant it.

Oh, he couldn’t even believe it. Toji had your pretty pussy overfilled with all of his thick, thorough inches - slamming his hips drunkenly against yours when you’d babbled to cum inside. Fuck, it’s so real.

And that’s all it takes for him to clamor up one of his staggeringly muscular thighs up onto the plushy bed. To messily slip and slide across the saturated puddle of your sweet, sweet dripping juices and press his foot down shamelessly on your head. Like he couldn’t get enough.

The new angle nestles his hefty cock disruptively, dredges of his sweltering hot precum splat! against every inch of your clingy cunt.

“Oh yeah- th-this is the stuff.” His dark, dewy eyes veer to the very back of his head, hissing when his achy cock expands open your gummy walls. Throbbing head swelling plumper to curve even deeper, “Let me- l-let me hear ya, ma-”

Your trembly fingers rake a reddened line down his calf. Gasping for air at the way the rotund end of his angry, strawberry-pink tip kisses against your g-spot so snugly. “W-wan’ it so badly- please.”

“Want what?” Toji’s teasing tone rumbles from behind, and he’s gyrating his hips ever-so-slightly slower. Making sure to draw out those wet, translucent glides down your tight channel, “Can’t- can’t hear you-”

Honestly, he had absolutely no idea whether it was because of your honeyed tone breaking out into the cutest of whimpers, or because Toji’s ears were popping. Swatting a wet smack! at your beading clit to get you to yelp, his drawling mouth moves all by itself. “Already asked- t-tell me now unless ya want me to cum outside-”

“No! No no no-” And that was all the threat it took to have you careening unsteadily onto your elbows, fully forgetting the mean restraint of Toji’s foot on top of you. “Please- need you to cum inside please-”

“Louder.”

You’re sneakily shivering your hips down every one of his rummaging inches. “Toji-”

“Ohhhh- my bad.” With a slight snicker, his tongue glissades a wet gloss down the very edges of his scar. Leaving rounded circular bruises at your bobbing throat just how harshly Toji was jostling you with the vice-like embrace, and you can only manage out a few sniffles when he drags by one strong arm to crash the recoil into his ruthless hips. Dangerously stopping you in your tracks. Humming, “Stop fuckin’ running, I w-was talkin’ to ya pretty pussy.”

Your bleary eyes snap open, “What–”

“Shhh, doll- stop whining so much–” he’s cooing in a syrupy slow cadence. “Jus’ needa- needa hear it from her.”

Slapping down his leaky cockhead along your sloppy hole every few strokes, having you drooling a glossy sheen down his thick shaft like you were painting him. So much of it that the dripping wet noises were resounding in Toji’s ears, dancing around his melty mind like his new favorite song. 

Oh, he loved to hear it. Over and over and-

“S-so soaked.” he’s groaning out like a mantra, darkened eyes grifting together. Mouth can all but lift his drunken maw slack open at every tightening clamp of your syrupy pussy, “You want me to cum inside this badly, doll?” 

And you feel your puffed-up pussy lips get even more soaked at the utter pussydrunk look on Toji’s usually smug-features. “Because I’ve been thinking about this e-ever since the day I met ya-” He’s craning over - hunching, more like.  Baring you with his most crazed gaze, “To breed ya- to fill you up ‘ntil you think you’re gonna hah burst. To make ya a pretty momma so-” Back muscles flexing, abs aching with fatigue, lips dragging a sopping wet kiss. “-please let me cum inside.”

Ah, who was Toji Fushiguro against you?

Because as soon as your head even dares to move within the inch of that half-delirious nod you send his way, Toji’s sopping your insides sloshing wet with his cum. For the first time. In awe. Load after load being fucked up into you - white flashes behind your eyes when you feel it knock against your womb, trickling down over your cervix.

And there’s so much of it.

“Gonna have yer g-gorgeous eyes-” he slurs, crushing you with his full body weight. “-n’ your smile fuck- my love for ya-” It won’t’ stop - Toji can’t stop, can’t reel back the weepy curving divot of his head. “M’thinking four- no- five.” Still oozing out a milky gloss even when he’s dragging his fat cock out of your hole. 

Still cumming. Smearing every nook and cranny of the sheet below white as he flips you around and plants a sudden smack! on your overspilling pussy, gushing out obscenely when Toji’s urgently bringing his face down, down, down.

“Oh. Fuckin’ delicious.” His eyes droop half-lidded at the heavenly sight - shit, he could get used to this. Mouth watering, his feverish breath wafts all over your sensitive pussy. “I earned this, didn’t I, ma?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Happy wife, happy life

“Ken-”

“...”

“Ken.”

But oh, Nanami Kento can’t even hear his pretty wife right about now. Can’t do anything but shove his greedy tongue down the ends of your sopping wet slit, pooling your syrupy juices all the way down to his throat.

In fact, the only response you’re being gifted with is a furious pull on his dangling work tie - barely even bothering to change out of it - to be able to swipe his nose down more freely in a long kiss down your puffy clit. More, more, more-

Keening, your fingers tangle into Nanami’s blond strands - tugging, dragging, but shit, he couldn’t - wont. It hurt for him to even think of pulling away. Roughened palms scissor past your folds, and he pants, “P-please- fuck- just a bit- more-”

He was addicted. Gone. 

“B-but Ken-” Couldn’t register anything past the way your voice was dipping into a whiny territory right now that made him twitch dangerously. That is, until- “Wan’ to cum w-with you- to have you ah- cum inside-”

Oh.

If you thought that Nanami was drunk on you before then you were completely unprepared for the way that singular babbling plea make him still. 

It makes him gasp, honeyed eyes widening, feverish breaths spilling out in heaving puffs of condensation - once, twice. Before your back is suddenly slamming down on the counter, legs splayed out shamefully by Nanami’s sturdy forearms, and your cunt-

Fuck, in a few split-seconds, you were being stuffed so thoroughly open. Nanami’s reddish cockhead springing down to gift a wet thwack! thwack! thwack! on your puffed-up clit, he’s swiping down the ends of your drooling lips. 

“I-inside?” he breathes, a few octaves higher than usual.

You’re nodding, your fingers twirling around his haphazard tie. “Inside.”

“Anything…” Nanami breathes, and he sounds like he doesn’t even know that he’s saying the words. Barely ripping his gaze from you to scramble for your left hand - before placing a sweet, sweet peck on that cool wedding band on your ring finger. “Anything f-for you, my love.”

You’re almost crying at that ruthless stretch of his globular tip poking at your insides, he’s caving in a way open - and even after so many years, you’ve never gotten used to how staggeringly big Nanami’s girth was. How his curved divot was steaming out a thick wad of precum that already made you feel so full.

Now, you two had discussed kids - but never acted upon it like this. This needy. This frenzied-

“Wh-whatever you want, y’know-” He’s humming depravedly into your mouth like a mantra,  thumbing past your pouty lips to spit into your mouth. And that very sight of those translucent splatters makes his hips stutter mindlessly, “Anything for you- anything for the future momma of my kids-”

Shit, you throw your head back as soon as he’s grazing two digits down the very hood of your neglected clit - only for Nanami to jostle your head over his hands.

“C-careful-” he murmurs, hand dipping down to massage your neck. Your shoulders - all while his fat cock was rummaging every nook and cranny of your insides. “-don’t wan’ you to hurt your- hah-self, darling. S’not good f-for the-”

Baby.

Nanami doesn’t think he can even bear to say that simple word right about now. 

Risking losing whatever’s left of his sanity, he’s wrapping one beefy arm around your middle to crush your body to his. And before you know it, you’re being hastily jostled off of the counter and dangled midair - all while your gentle husband barely even breaks a sweat. Utilizing the lewd properties of gravity to let you bounce down onto his long length and back upwards. His voice cracks, “-baby.”

“Ah-” your trembly hands wrap their way around his neck, giving Nanami the perfect angle to pepper peck after sultry peck onto your bouncing tits. “D-don’t hah- drop me, Ken, m’kay?”

Drop you?

Drop you?

God, he lets out a slight chuckle at the very thought. Angling to rut his inches even deeper upwards, every tiny massage of your elastic walls around his painful cock makes Nanami nod. So fervently that stray strands stick to his prespired forehead. Such a pretty mess of your sensible husband. “Mhm- w-won’t drop you, I swear- I swear-”

Hips speeding up in such a sloppy way now, but even how you’re tightening his tie won’t make Nanami stop - slow down.

“Promise?”

Slowly, his dribbling cock gushes out even in even more velvety ribbons, you’re watching in such delirious awe at the way those delicate strings of slick and spit stretch all down his pinkish shaft. 

“Promise-” he groans, feeling light-headed. Heavy balls thwacking in a sticky staccato against your ass. Fingers gliding up, up, up to where he was nudging your sensitive g-spot, bruising out his circumference on all your sensitive areas. Kiss after French kiss into your gooey heaven. He presses down. “-gonna f-fill you up right here- won’t miss. Swear I won’t m-miss-”

And he doesn’t.

God, he grows sullenly quiet to hear all those delicious squelches the very moment Nanami’s steaming hot cum is spilling into you. Warming you from the very insides- and your own orgasm has you seeing stars. 

Sloshing around in his favorite little swivels, he can’t help but let his hips gyrate slowly to feel it coat a creamy gloss down his sensitive cock. To feel your tiny whimpers and whines when his seed dredges down your womb. Drip! drip! dripping onto the kitchen tile in an echoing splatter from your slobbery slit. 

You leave a wet peck at the ends of his curled lips, “W-wan’ keep it all inside, Ken- all of it-”

God, you were going to be the death of him.

“M’gonna marry you all over again- s-swear and- and…” And just then, he shudders so violently that you fear for a split-second, legs around his toned waist tightening. “-o-oh, my love- m’gonna cum again.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “U-use me.”

“I-I’m so close-”  Geto finds it in himself to grit his teeth, to force his jittery fingers up to pinch your plump clit. “-gonna cum- fuck, s-stop riding me, honey- unless ya want me to fill you up heh-”

It’s said so low and sultry and even through your hazy mind, you know that it’s a simple tease coming from your boyfriend. You know that he didn’t mean anything by it - but that certainly doesn’t stop the way that your hands grasp around his shoulders, knocking your heads into a messy French kiss. “But, I want you to, Sugu.”

Oh. 

Geto Suguru can’t hide the way his chest heaves with a choked-up moan, how his head throws to the very back of his silken pillowcases when his hips rut upwards into you like a fucking animal.

It’s like he was out of control. Ears ringing with the words, it takes the cult leader below you every shred of will in his entire body to groan out, “D-don’t joke like that- fuck- gonna give me a heart attack, y’know-”

“M’not joking.”

Shit, his eyes widen. Straying down to where your puffy pussy lips were bulging around his fat girth, swallowing up every greedy inch that you were being drilled with. Throat dry, every sound that comes out of him now is painfully raspy, “Y-you fuckin’ mean it? Better not be fuck- talking outta this naughty-” Swat! Coming down to kiss a punishing smack against the edges of your drooling cunt. “-pussy.”

You couldn’t fake the way that makes you glissadingingly drenched even if you wanted to. Nails raking down Geto’s curvaceous pecs to steady your stuttering hips, your bounces grow frantic. 

“Please- c-cum inside-” begging. Maybe you were cockdrunk already, pouting in a way that has his hefty, cum-filled balls squeezing. “Jus’ want you all inside-”

And when Geto thinks back to this situation, he doesn’t know how he was ever supposed to stand a chance. Because with a gasping ricochet of his fat, curved cock onto your most precious g-spot, he’s surging stringy wads of seeds that trickles down your inner thigh. Cumming and cumming so hard - it’s never felt this good - that he almost forgets it’s too early.

That is, until you’re gasping a soft “Baby, did you-”

“Sh-shut up-” And you swear your big, strong boyfriend whimpers. He’s furiously blinking away those glittery globular tears at the ends of his eyes. A tiny pout smeared across his rosy pink lips when you’re being flipped.

One hand around your throat, the other plugging back creamy dredge after dredge into your drooling cunt. Almost as if it was offensive to him to catch that syrupy drizzle, he’s making such a fucking mess. 

“Such a filthy girl- n’ a filthy cunt-” He sputters out, and Geto felt like he was burning a bright red blush all down his pretty features. Matching the angry way your hips were being slammed into his, “Think you s-sooo fuckin’ fuck- fuck fuck fuck-”

And shit, he can’t even finish his sentence before those moans are petering out into speechlessness. A singular tight squeeze of your gummy walls encircles his hot girth. And it’s enough to make him whine, “Please- fuck, how are you doing this-”

Sounding so genuinely in disbelief, you watch as Geto’s mouth drops lewdly at the way every pearlescent bead of his cum was directed towards your cunt. Seeping out through the edges of your sopping lips.

You’re giggling in a drunken way that makes him flinch, “S-something wrong, Sugu?”

“Don’t-” he bares you with a feral grin. Heavy limbs throwing apart your limp legs to jostle his hips into you even harder, and it’s like Geto was spearheading into your lungs. Swiping up translucent wet splatters of his fat head in delicious drags down your spongy cervix. Hissing that even the slightest bit of recoil had him parting from the melty depths of your pussy. “-don’t call m that ‘nless you want me to- oh-” His dewy eyes roll to the back of his head, leaving another unapologetic smack! on your peaked clit. “-t-too late. M’gonna cum- fuck fuck fuck- n’ s’all your fault-”

“Awww–” Teasingly, your fingers drag through his long curtain of hair, scratching lightly at Geto’s scalp in a way that makes him purr. “-how can I hah- make it up to you, Sugu?”

The only thing he wanted right now was to cum inside you again. Once more. Twice. Thrice. Again and again and-

“Use me-” Geto gasps, and he’s careening his head down for what you assumed would be one of his favorite messy kisses - only to wrap those pinkish lips around your tongue and suck. “Use me use me- ohh please, use me- honey- make me a daddy. D-don’t even care anymore-”

And when he cums, Geto’s filling your already sloshingly drenched cunt with heavy loads of his seed. Sticky and honeyed enough that it’s next to impossible for him to pull out and sheath his rock-hard dick unforgivingly into your pussy. 

One of the biggest threats to jujutsu society - whimpering when he spews out a stream of wet swears into your open-mouth, shivering at every one of your milking clamps to drag out something delicious from him. 

He’s curling his hulking body into yours, dripping fingers glistening all the way down to Geto’s wrist with just how much of his loads he’d shoveled all the way back inside your cunt. Giving your sloppy hole a languid circle around the diameter with his slender fingers, before popping them into his mouth. 

And Geto can only see stars behind his eyes, he can only moan at the taste, “I think…” Peaking out a hazy eye at your squirming figure - where the hell did you think you were going? He’s hypnotized, dragging you back into his clutches with a hand curled prettily around your throat. “-that w-we’re not done until m’cumming b-blanks, honey.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Marry you…

One swipe - just one swipe of Choso’s fattened, blushing red tip down your slit is all that it takes for his stupidly pussydrunken eyes to run to the back of his head. For his drooling mouth to slack open with all the utter need of a virgin, “Please-”

You’re humming through your moans, arching your body just right for him to feed you more and more of his half-flaccid inches. “Tell me what you want, baby-”

Fuck, he’s winking open his eyes to peer down at you. Hands traveling their way to roughly jostle your pliant body into one of the meanest mating presses you’d never thought your dear inexperienced best friend possible.

“N-noo–” Choso’s whining, pressing wet pecks down your lips. “Don’t call me that, baby- or else m’gonna…”

Choso’s handsome cheeks burn a shameful red when his eyes drift down to the gooey splatters of cum smeared along your stomach from not too long ago. Just the prospect of being able to put it in too much for his fried brain to handle.

And you’re finding your fingers darting across the glossy sheen sticking to your skin, bringing those drippingly wet digits up, up, up for Choso to gladly wrap his lips around. Sucking. 

“But I want you to, Cho–” Watching as his eyes widen, mouth dropping into a soft oh! Your voice drops into such a hum that makes his swollen tip twitch startlingly. “Want you to c-cum inside m-”

Shit, he doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence - and he doesn’t want to. 

Not unless Choso wants to make an even bigger fool of himself in front of his pretty best friend that oh-so-kindly suggested taking away his virginity. Not like there’s anyone else he’d even dream of giving it to.

Thick, sculpted thigh hiking up, he’s slamming his hefty cockhead down until your swollen folds were kissing up in a sweet, sweet pucker against his thick hilt. Grinding in slow, sultry gyrations upwards like he still wanted to stuff you with more, more, more- 

“I-I can can cum inside?” Forehead beading with sweat, lower lip wobbling with the sheer effort that it took to merely hold back the way that his achingly hard cock was straining for release once more. Hissing at the almost sizzling drag of precum down your bulging g-spot. “For my first time? Inside? R-really inside?”

And despite the way that he was so patiently waiting for your answer, Choso couldn’t help the way the greedy curve of his thumb swipes down your peaked clit. Rolling in lazy circles - low, and slow to make your gummy walls clench in that particular way he’s slowly gotten addicted to. 

You’re nodding with a smug smile at how pretty he looked all fucked-out like this. Darkened eyes all droopy and half-lidded like he was blinking through syrup, muscles twitching mouth-wateringly, hair browner than usual with his sweat-dampened streaks. You can’t help but wring your fingers through his locks and tug, in a way that makes him hiss. In a way that makes him gasp. 

In a way that has him spurting out a thicker stream of precum into your gooey cunt - close. So close. “Mhm– let it a-all out inside, baby.”

Oh god, and then he does-

He does and Choso’s sure he sees the pearly gates of heaven right then and there, and he knows you’re his very own angel.

“Move your pretty fingers, baby– I wan’ you to t-take it all-” It’s not even mean the way he swats away one of your hands subconsciously cupping your split pussy - it’s just desperate. So that he can place pound after filthy pound to fuck you into the soaked sheets. 

Whining out, “Yeah please- fuck-”  Snapping his flexible body down until you were folded helplessly in half, every languid second is spent with such velvety ropes of cum being stuffed down to the bottom of your pussy. “Wan’ this forever- forever please-” Thick, stringy wads that stick and slide down your walls - that overspills when it’s too much for your snug channel to take. “W-want this…”

And just one look of his greedy gazy downwards And Choso’s gasping like he couldn’t even believe he could cum this much - couldn’t even believe he could stop at this point.

“Marry me-” he’s sputtering, eyes clearer with the sudden idea. As if he’s imagining it already. Hips shifting to lazy down his sloppy staccato into something more thorough. “B-be my wife- have my kids- please-” Something that has your toes curling with pleasure, branding every ridge and thumping vein down his shaft into your walls contorting around him. Hiccuping - little sobs curling at the back of his throat, “Please- please I need you to marry me-” 

It’s overspilling - adding to that little milky pool from below. He’s barely even thinking before swiping a hand through some of those creamy remnants of cum. Sucking. Taking your own - popping that ring finger of yours into his mouth.

Drool drips down the side of his sodden lips, moving to mewl softly. “D-did that really just happen?”

The words come out nothing but a whisper, strangled and strained from the very depths of his rumbling chest. And Choso’s peering down at you like you were everything - his softening cock sending sparks down his spine with every slight rub down your sopping wet folds. 

“Mhm–” your hands make their way down his pecs, rubbing over pert, pink nipples. Something that makes him let out a low shudder, reddened divot bursting in a few more wispy strings of seed. “N’ you did so hngh- good, Cho.”

“D-did I? Was I your oh- good boy?” he stutters, before letting out a keening pout. “B-but I need to have you cum, too, baby- need to have you cum-” And you’re so at his ravenous mercy when Choso swipes a wet thumb over and over down your throbbing clit. “-and then- then can we get married?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - MESS!

“What the fuck-” The king of curses breathes - he heaves - like never before, even in that human form of his right now. “Wh-what the fuck have you done to me, woman-”

And all the foes in the world had nothing against your honeyed whines. Absolutely no match for the way your elastic walls were clinging around his throbbing cock so tight. No match for your cockdrunk babbling that drove him insane.

“Such a filthy mouth you h-have-” he groans, leering over his inhumanly powerful body to bend over yours. You’re gaping when one of his big, beefy arms jostle you upwards into a headlock. Even shapeshifted from his true form, he was still so strong. Spitting, “Do you dare to- fuck- move those pretty lips of yours n’ repeat those words back to me, brat.”

As if you could do anything else. 

“I-I said-” you’re choking out, panting in feverish gasps of the heady air. “-said I want you to c-cum inside-”

Oh. 

In a split-second, you’re feeling your tautly stretched walls expand to limits you weren’t even sure were possible. The very bottom of your pussy being ravaged with two circular brandings - two. Two matching rock-hard cocks jostling around you. 

And the stretch of Sukuna’s devilishly true form opening your cunt to its very limits is so maddening that it takes you a second to realize that the rest of him had shapeshifted, too. 

Suddenly bigger, suddenly more towering, suddenly the king of curses. 

His strong forearm curls even tighter around your throat, knocking the remaining gasps out of your lungs. “Seriously? L-look where talking outta ya slutty pussy hah- got me-” Sukuna chuckles. Deep and rumbling from his bulging pecs, “-c-can’t even hold a n-normal form- you made me do this- fuck-”

He was fucking you like it was your fault.

Solid inches upon inches that were bruising. And if you thought that Sukuna’s size was staggering in whatever human form he’d conjured up for the safety of your poor pussy - it was absolutely incredible with both his twin girthy cocks. Bigger, thicker. The slightest ruts and grinds into your gushing cunt having him knocking into your lungs, painting down a hefty load of steamy precum. 

Messy.

“Messy-” you hear a primal rumble from above you. Shit, did you say that out loud? Condensed breath heady and hot against your ear, “Heheh- you think this is m-messy, lil’ human? Wait until I-I- hah-”

“Y-you’re really gonna cum inside, Kuna?” you’re batting your teary lashes up at your king, a delirious smile smearing itself all over your face. 

Wobbling when his snapping hips purposefully slow down to mere gyrating squelches, every push and pull feeding your slobbery pussy languidly. You have him hypnotized, maw slacking open with every lazy drag of his heavy cocks back and forth back and forth back and- “Mhm- gonna fill ya up. Breed ya u-until you’re begging that ya can’t take it. Until y-you’re all round n’ glowing with my heirs.”

God. He was out of control.

“I-I can take it-” Your nails rake airily down his ever-tightening forearm - nothing but mere kitten scratches to Sukuna. “Promise Kuna- I can-”

“Tch- this damn naughty m-mouth of yours.” he smirks in a sleazy way - just about all that Sukuna can do to not let his voice break out in whimpers right now. All he can do to hold back his building high, curvaceous tips of his thickened cocks spazzing out tight, voluminous globs of wispy white. He’s covering your prattling mouth with one hand, “Take it then- take it- but ya better make an equal mess f’me. Heh-”

Even through your bleary mind, you already knew what he wanted - to have you squirt all down Sukuna’s weepy cocks. To make a mess. 

Always his favorite.

“Th-think ya can do that?” He snarls down at you, twiddling a few sopping wet digits to toy with your pulsing clit. Third and fourth arms snaking around your waist to keep from your pathetic scrambling. To stop your escape when his hips jackhammer away harder. “Can you- my queen?”

Oh, he cuts himself off with a whimper.

Because all of a sudden your gushing cunt is surging out in waves of translucent slick. It sticks to his rubbing cocks - and all the way to his washboard abs -like a gloss, stars behind your eyes when Sukuna’s fucking you through your high. Praises slipping out in a way that would’ve tarnished the king’s reputation if anyone found out.

But right now, he didn’t care. 

Not when he’s all but bursting from his bawling tips - such thick rivers of cum that knock mercilessly into your gummy spots. The force of both his fat heads streaming out relentlessly is enough to leave your forbidden sweet spots all bruised and battered. 

Inflating your snug channel until Sukuna only had to slide a hand down to about halfway down your abdomen, pressing down at that nudge. “Heh, s’right at h-home-” 

And now that he’s filled your pretty pussy with seed, Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t think it’s possible to cum anywhere else. With a shuddering hiss, he’s dragging his cocks out, spying down with hooded eyes at the way your sloppy entrance was molding and constrictign around him - like you were trying to milk the fucking soul out of him.

But Sukuna had other plans - plans that included letting his second tongue loll out, rough tastebuds sweeping a long lick down your leaky slit. Creamy cum trickling down the pinkish muscle, and he could feel his mouth grinning. Something he’s been wanting to do since he moment he fucking saw you.

“H-hey-” you’re turning your head to huff back at him. 

Smack!

“Ahh, stop yer whining-” Sukuna’s smoothing one hand down over the raised bumps of all five digits on your ass, another one of his hands guiding his fat bases to drive up your sopping crease. Pooling the milky remnants on his rotund tips. “-because m’not done breeding this cunt properly yet, my queen.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Limit(less)

“This time-” Gojo’s heaving out a dragging shudder, his face burying hotly within the tender crook of your neck. Spitting - panting, “This time this time- this- time-”

Oh, it’s been just about the same thing that he’s been babbling for the past few hours now. All that he can utter after so long of his sensitively overworked cock stuffing in and out over your overspilling cunt, flickers of jujutsu bolting with every sodden drag down your melty walls.

Truly, the strongest didn’t expect to be addicted the first time he filled your drooling pussy with thick globs of his seed - it was an accident, the first trial of trying to use limitless for its…unintended purposes. 

But right now, Gojo had absolutely no clue if this was the nth trial or whether he was simply addicted to breeding your pretty cunt.

“T-Toru–” Your fingers scramble backwards to bury in his snow locks - difficult, with the way that your boyfriend was wrangling you into a tight full nelson. Feeling the push and pull of thick cursed technique in the air - inside you. “-s’not gonna work.”

God, just the sear of your grip on his scalp is enough to have Gojo’s hips rutting up in a perfect curve off the plush king-size mattress. Fucking up into your cunt so thoroughly that you gasp at the syrupy slosh of his cum from before inside you. 

His hiccups, voice cracking into a whine at the very end. “D-do you hate me, sweetheart?”

“No?” you’re breathing out in exasperation. But shit, you underestimate just how crazed this tiniest sentiment would drive him, choking back a strangled cry of your name when he’s sending a buzzing smack! down to the hood of your plump cunt. “Fuck- why would you think-”

“Th-then let me use limitless as a- hah- condom, pretty girl-” he’s whining. And you jolt at the wet splatters of a few stimulated, pearlescent tears slipping their way out of Gojo’s eyes. “It’ll work- this time- m’the strongest- s’gonna hah- w-work- a-and if not m’jus’ breedin’ my girl’s cute cunt, r-right?”

But even as he’s prattling on and on about this, you’re feeling the flickering falter of jujutsu around Gojo’s hefty girth. Molding your gummy walls taut around his fat circumference, your spine arches with electricity. 

“Heheh-” Goosebumps prickle down your spine at the high, humorless bout of laughter at your ear - and you crane your head to look at Gojo. Sure that he’s lost it. Already wondering just how high the kill count would be. “-didn’t think th-this pretty pussy of yours would have me so ruined, sweetheart.”

And truly - he sounded like it. 

He looked like it, with his rosy lips ajar, those cerulean eyes watery and half-lidded. Glowing with power and tiny shivers of lighting at every sodden kiss to the bullseye of your g-spot. Clashing over and over in a wet push and pull, Gojo thinks that he could almost feel the rotund indentations of his curved tip right on your sweetest spots. 

“Looks like y-you’re the one ruining me- Toru-” you whine. “Just look-”

Drunkenly, Gojo’s lolling his head to the sound of your voice. Not even looking, barely even thinking - that is, until he sees.

And Gojo can’t help but let out a slew of honeyed, pathetically cracking profanities at the heavenly sight below. Pale forearms stretching out your trembly thighs even more shamefully wide to get an even closer look. 

Of your quivering hole winking up at him glisteningly, coating his fat hilt a creamy ring of white from so many of his failed attempts. Your saturatedly wet pussy lips were practically gulping up all of his heavy inches, slobbering a slow trail of drool down the side of his strawberry pink shaft and onto his twitchy balls. Needy. 

And if Gojo’s limitless protection was unsteady before then-

“Shit-” Gojo takes in a shuddering gasp, slender digits falling down to plant a wet smack! on the very middle of your bulging slit - as if all of this was your fault. “Shit shit shit shit- I-I can’t- oh-” Sharp canines sinking down so hard into your skin that you think he might break through. Just about all that’s keeping Gojo tethered to reality when his limitless shatters. “Oh god. Th-think s’gonna be another b-baby…”

All the way into a zillion pieces of nothingness and-

And then he’s cumming. 

Cumming so hard that the dim lamps by the side of your bed flickers. Then explodes. 

Pouring out such steaming hot piles of his cum - once. Twice. Before his swollen, overwhelmed balls are clenching and then he’s shooting nothing but pathetic blanks. 

It takes you a second to register the sudden darkness - all across Tokyo, in fact. You’re gasping, “O-oh, Toru did you-”

“Run out-” he’s giggling. Giggling. “Fuck you m-made me- hah- really milked me dry, didn’t ya- Spread those pretty legs a bit more, pretty girl. Let me see.” All five rounded pads of his fingers are bruising on your thigh when Gojo’s splaying them out to confirm the sputtering way his cock was driving into you. “Can’t- can’t believe- no way, baby m’supposed t-to fill you up-”

Shit, he was babbling out his true intentions so stupidly. But luck was on his side, because with a final, jujutsu-sheened swat at your cunt, the buzzing power finally sends you over the edge. 

Crashing headfirst into waves upon waves of white-hot pleasure, the engulfing goodness made you squeal. And it made Gojo grit his teeth with a low whimper at the way the simple clenching convulse of your gripping walls wrapped around his cock made him twitch in another dry orgasm. Another. And another. 

God, his first - well, not quite first - time cumming inside you and he’s already so fucked out.

Yet, despite it all, Gojo could almost count it a success…almost. 

“S-sweetheart, y’know Yaga always taught us that science experiments have hah- twenty-five trials, right?”

“...”

A/N. Gojo’s so annoying I love him.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nkogneatho]

one of my favorite thing about dating satosugu is how polar opposite they are while fucking you.

suguru looks nonchalant on the surface but he's so pussy whipped once the doors are closed. no one will even suspect that the bored face turns into frowned brows and lip bites once he is drunk on your pussy. he is growling like a wolf in heat. all his sanity is vanished as he pumps his girth inside you. you are so fucking tight that it's costing him all his strength to not bust a nut inside you so soon. his hair is messed up, greasy and probably a little tangled from the animalistic pace and positions he is taking you in.

satoru on the other hand looks like he is about to dry hump you in public (maybe he is). this man has no shame at all. he will make out sloppy with you till he is drooling down your jaw, beg for your pussy at a walmart aisle till everyone is looking at you two like you'rea freak. but once in bed, the roles are reversed. he teases the fuck out of you. you are the one begging now. he will push his tip in just enough to entice you only to steal that hope and pull out. the look of frustration on your face gets him off. he is wearing a shit eating grin, opposed to what he had earlier in public while you are whining and crying for more.

[cozymoko]

I really loved your yandere cowboy OC idea (Jamie) and is it possible to ask for a part 2 or something? You have me hooked👀

My Fancy Lady

Yes, anon!

Nav. Masterlist

𐚁 Pairing. Yandere! Cowboy x City Girl! Reader

𐚁 Warning(s). slight yandere themes, subtle jealousy from reader, overall just lovey-dovey though.

𐚁 Format, word count. Scenario, 2.2k words

𐚁 Synopsis. You're returning to your home back in the city, but you wouldn't dare go without your precious cowboy.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Jamie wasn't one for small talk—'less it was his woman doin' the talkin'. So, nights like this? Big ol’ fancy affairs? They weren’t his scene. He’d rather be anywhere else, maybe takin' on some honest work in town or catchin' a rodeo a few miles out. Hell, anything that didn’t have him stuffed into this stiff suit, collar chokin' him half to death.

But, reckon he had it comin’. You get yourself tangled up with a city girl, and suddenly you're wearin’ city clothes, trailed by folks who don’t know a lick about good, hard work. He couldn't help but stay close, though. With a pretty thing like you on his arm, he had to be. Men were wolves in these parts, sneakin' glances like they’d never seen a woman before—especially one who wasn’t theirs to look at. Made him chuckle under his breath. "What a damn shame."

Jamie stood across the ballroom, leaned up against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. He could’ve gone and greeted your folks, but Lord, your mama was a spitfire—firing off questions quicker than he could answer. He respected her, sure, and your pa too, but he’d rather keep what was left of his sanity. Just takin' in the sight of this place made his pockets ache.

Chandeliers dangled high above like crystal-studded stars, throwing soft light around the room. Gilded columns lined the walls, polished up so fine they seemed to look down on everybody else here. Tapestries hung alongside big, expensive-lookin' paintings—probably worth more than his whole ranch. The floor? It was slick as a lake after rain, shiny enough he’d bet a nickel it could trip even the steadiest cowboy.

Then there were the folks. Struttin’ around like proud peacocks, laughin' in polished tones that came off a little too uppity for his taste. Colors swirled around him—reds as bold as a fight, blues like icy temptation—colors he'd never even seen before danced across the floor. Reminded him a little of berries and fresh tomatoes, and just the thought got a chuckle outta him.

He’d never fit into this world, but it didn’t stop him from admirin’ its quirks now and then. Even so, this whole scene was like a country mile from his real life. He was just as sure he’d turn you into a cowgirl one day, but until then, he could appreciate the wonders of what money could do, even if he wouldn’t spend his hard-earned cash like this.

But there was one bright spot in all this: you.

There you were, right in the center of it all, falling into familiar voices and easy laughter. This was your world, and you looked like you belonged in it, talkin' to faces from your past who sized up the man beside you with curious glances. And yet, you smiled at them all—good and bad. Weren't you just the sweetest thing.

The cowboy stands across the ballroom, leaning against the wall, one foot tucked over the other. It's not that he didn't want to greet your folks, but your mama was a spitfire — hammering the two of you with more questions than he can count. He loved her, and your pa too, but he'd rather keep the last piece of his sanity tucked in his belt.

High society folks rubbed him wrong. Spoiled sons and daughters who’d had everything handed to 'em, struttin' through life without a lick of sense about hard work. Obnoxious, entitled, without a care for anyone who hadn’t grown up just like them. Jamie couldn’t stand it.

Yet somehow, out of all the men you coulda chosen, you picked him. What a thief, he thought with a quiet chuckle, his dark gaze never leavin' your face.

Course, he wasn’t all that innocent either—he’d done his damnedest to pull you away from this pampered life, wanted to whisk you off to the country, to his life, his world. And he’d caught you, good and proper. But that didn’t stop him from feelin' that familiar heat, the sharp taste of blood on his tongue from biting back the urge to snap at every wolf eyein' you tonight.

“Don't make a scene,” he murmured to himself like a man clingin' to a thin thread of patience.

He’d be lyin’ if he said he didn’t want you all to himself. Seein' you wrapped up in those fine silks, hair swept back in that way you liked best, lips painted in a soft color that made you glow... God, he wanted you. If he had it his way, you’d be in worn-out jeans, maybe one of his old flannels, smellin' of him and the wide open fields.

But he couldn’t tell you no. You hadn’t seen your family in months, and it just about broke his heart to see you so homesick. Jamie ain't one to go on about his old man, but if he learned one thing, it was this: happy wife, happy life. And you may not be his wife just yet, but he planned on changin' that real soon.

So to hell with all these other women, these high-class dames flittin' around the room. He didn’t care one bit about their money or their flirtin' glances. Jamie toyed with the silver pendant around his neck, tappin' his boot in time to the music.

Just then, a young woman drifted up, not much older than you, lips red as blood and curving into a sly smile. “Excuse me, sir,” she purred, “would you like to—”

“I’d be careful, sugar,” he cut in smooth, twirlin' his whiskey glass. “My wife fights. And I'd rather not see you back at your surgeon’s tonight.”

A crooked grin played on his lips as he raised his glass to his lips, his eyes catchin' yours across the room. There was only one woman he wanted on his arm, and she was wearin' a ring that matched his own.

You never thought you'd see him in a suit before your wedding, but it was quite the surprise — a pleasant one, at that.

Standing there in front of you, Jamie looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine. Broad-shouldered, lean muscle wrapped in a midnight suit that clings just right, standing out among the tailored suits and smooth accents. The crisp white dress shirt only made his deep auburn hair look richer, slicked back smooth with every curl in place, and those dimples peeked out just as he caught you staring. His boots clack as he shifts, whiskey swirling in his hand, that silver band on his ring finger catching the glint of the chandelier. The sight of it alone sends any would-be admirer scuttling off with barely a second glance. He’s your plus one for the night, and the whole room knows it.

When he smiles, there’s a glint of trouble in his eyes, and those dimples—well, they could make even the stiffest folks around here swoon. He looks like the kind of man who just barely tolerates a tie, tugging at it with a smirk whenever he catches your gaze, as if to say, “You really think all this makes me any fancier?”

He’s still Jamie through and through: rugged under all that polish, with a bit of a roguish streak he could never quite hide. And tonight, even though he’s dressed up to meet your family and stand in this world of chandeliers and silk dresses, he’s every bit the man you fell for—charmingly untamed, with a quiet confidence that makes you weak in the knees.

Your friends try to pull you into old stories and polite gossip, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. Jamie’s gaze is steady, unwavering, as though he has little interest in the things around him. There’s a hint of a smirk playing at his lips every time he catches you staring, his dimples deepening, and that mischievous glint in his dark, loving eyes. You know that look too well. It’s possessive, fiercely protective, as if he’s daring anyone to even think about taking his bride-to-be.

The more you look at him, the more it pains you to look away. You try to play it cool, but he knows you too well—knew what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. It leaves you with thoughts from earlier in the day, making your knees weak all over again.

“My, my, he cleans up rather nicely,” a warm, familiar voice whistles beside you. “Don’t you agree, dear?” You jump, blinking back into the present, only to find your mother smiling knowingly.

“Distracted?” she teases, twirling you around to face her, an amused smile etched onto her red lips.

She glides past the group of dazzling damsels, fanning herself as she casts an appreciative glance toward Jamie. “Lord, honey,” she whispers in your ear, amused. “If he’s not about the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen—and the way he looks at you? It’s like he’s afraid the floor might steal you away.”

You laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but her words are truer than she knows. Jamie tips his glass toward you from across the room, raising it in a silent toast. There’s something soft in his expression—a flicker of mirth in his dark eyes.

You almost let them drown you, submerge you in their warmth. If not for the grating sound to your left.

"Who might that be?"

"I haven't seen him around."

"Should I ask him for a dance?"

"Do you think he's spoken for?"

"Of course, look at the jewel on his finger!"

"I quite fancy him. Shall I pursue him anyways?"

"Oh, how shameful~!"

Some of the girls here are looking his way—of course, they are. Jamie has that rugged charm, like he was carved out of southern dirt and bathed in the evening sun, with the wild confidence of a man who knows he’s got nothing to prove. His auburn hair, slicked back in a style that both respects the occasion and still says he’s a cowboy first, gives him a sharp, roguish look that’s almost out of place here, like a tiger in a cage.

But despite the glances, the obnoxious remarks, no one dares approach him. The way his eyes follow you, even from a distance, says more than words ever could. He isn’t here to be seen; he’s here for you.

Yet, it doesn’t make it any easier to hold your tongue. You’ve hosted these parties since the age of fourteen and know how people behave here—their promiscuous ways, and the men who can’t help but leer. High-class harlots looking for any man to pounce on, taken or not. Greasy men following women’s every move, provoked or not. You remember too well. This was the yearly matchmaking party hosted by four of the wealthiest families in the city, your family being one of them. It wouldn’t look good if you didn’t attend the event your household had built its reputation around.

You knew Jamie would settle on keeping to himself, yet you hadn’t thought your rugged companion would be the talk of the party. That alone makes the joy blossoming in your chest wilt. For once, it feels as though he isn’t just your fiancé, but everyone’s. Of course, you want everyone to love him as much as you do—but without undressing him with their winged eyes.

Just then, Jamie makes his way over, his familiar smirk making your heart skip a beat. “Sugar,” he says, poking the soft flesh of your cheek, his eyes gleaming with a familiar, mischievous warmth. When he finally makes his way back to you, he tips his drink up, raising a brow. “Sugarplum.”

His words go in one ear and out the other, turning fuzzy and static as they pass through your mind. A deep frown settles at the corners of your lips as exasperation bubbles over.

“Jamie, stop it!” you huff, swatting his hands away. “You’ll ruin my makeup, you damn brute.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t bother moving his hand from the top of your head, his fingers gently brushing through your hair as if daring you to protest again. You turn away, cheeks flushed, doing your best to regain the poise you usually wear like a crown.

Jamie notices the pout you're trying to hide, his lips curling in amusement. For all your princess-like composure, you’re showing more than you realize tonight. He leans down, his voice low and teasing.

“Don’t pout, pumpkin. Fix your face.”

You glare up at him, crossing your arms, but he just chuckles, reaching for your hand. Before you can react, he pulls you closer, his grip firm yet careful, as if he were holding something precious.

“Remember, Sugar,” he murmurs, giving your kiss a long, playful smooch. MUAH! “You’re the main character.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he twirls you around, his hand never leaving yours as he guides you in a slow, elegant spin. You can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, your frown dissolving as he twirls you like with practiced ease.

Only then had you decided.

That night was quite the surprise indeed—

A pleasant one at that.

©CozyMoko, all rights reserved. Don't repost my work on other platforms.

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 9

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

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Chapter summary: Past. You aren't good enough for Logan. Present. Logan makes you feel good.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Before

“Please stop worrying about me.”

“You’re hurt.”

Logan reached up and took your wrist gently. “Everything is literally already healed, Dolly.”

You look down at him, eyes wet with worry and anxiety as you dabbed at his forehead with a wet washcloth. Since getting back inside, you hadn’t stopped fretting over him. “I know… but you got hurt because of me, please let me just do… something?”

Logan acquiesced, letting go of you so you could clean him. “You didn’t get hurt because of me, doll face.”

“But you did.” Logan took a few tumbles fighting Scott, leaning him fine, but bloody. You’re thankful Logan did hurt Scott for touching you, Scott doesn’t have healing, and you know Logan would feel horrible hurting or even killing Scott over a misunderstanding.

There was silence as he let you care for him even though he was healed. It was for your own sanity, to know you weren’t completely useless. You clean off his handsome face, taking the blood off his skin, even cleaning his hairline and beard with tender touches despite his rough skin. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch, and you even heard him humming.

You couldn’t meld the two Logan’s in your head, couldn’t make sense of what you saw this evening with the kitty purring in your arms right now. He had been vicious, ready to kill Scott for sliding your dress a mere inch to the side. Yes, it was embarrassing and you didn’t like it but it wasn’t worth disemboweling him for. Logan, the Logan you knew was a gentle giant, soft enough to cradle the duckling on the side of the road you saw while driving home from church with him and taking it to the pond with its family. Your Logan offered to take you to a nondenominational church in the first place so you could pray. Your Logan only hurt you in the throes of a nightmare.

“It wasn’t your fault, Logan. You didn’t mean to hurt me.”

But he shook his head as you sat by his side. ”Not meaning to doesn’t erase the fact you have scars on your back now.”

He was right, it didn’t, but you didn’t really care. “Lo… that doesn’t matter to me. Honestly, it doesn’t. You were having a nightmare, sometimes-”

“I almost killed Rogue. During a nightmare. She came to check on me, just like you did, got stabbed right through the chest.”

Your heart clenched at yes, the thought of sweet Rogue in such pain, but also how much guilt Logan carried around.

“She touched me and was able to absorb my powers, make heal herself… but if that had been anyone else, if that had been you?” He shook his head. “I’d skin myself alive before I hurt you, you know that, don’t you?”

And you nod, because you do. Logan wasn’t like Mark. “I know… that’s why you fought Scott, to protect me.”

Logan chuckles lowly. “I wasn’t just foughting him, Dolly. I was gonna kill him for laying a hand on you.”

This makes you frown. “It wasn’t that serious.”

But he catches your wrist, eyes snapping up to you with a burning intensity you rarely see in the calm brown eyes of his. “You are that serious to me. Scott should know to keep his weasley hands off you.”

You make no attempt to pull away. “But it was a misunderstanding!” You protest. “He thought you hurt me, he wanted to-”

“Scott doesn’t want anything other than to prove he was right about me all along. If it was about the claw marks I wouldn’t even care, because baby doll if I had seen that someone hurt you, they’d be dead.” He stands, imposing height and broad frame should be fearful, but you didn’t fear Logan. Instead, you simply stare up at him. “You hear me, Dolly? Fucking dead. But that’s not why Scott cares. He doesn’t care about you, not like I do. He just hates me.”

You try to make sense of this information. You knew Scott wasn’t fond of Logan; they never interacted outside of necessity, didn’t get sent on missions alone together. Remy was sent on one once because the skillset fit Logan and Scott best, but Remy was there just to function as a peacekeeper, a buffer he said. Still, you didn’t think it was that bad. Scott was kind, friendly, and caring. Logan was the sweetest heart you knew.

Taking his other hand, you prompt him to continue. “Why, Logan? When you’re so…”

“So what?” Logan chuckles. “Insane?”

“Good.”

The words hang in the air, soaking into his skin as if he hoped you could speak it into existence. He didn’t believe it, but you truly, truly did. You’d spend forever making him see what you saw in him.

He simply shakes his head, looking down but not at you. “He’s got a right to hate me, baby dolly. ‘Fraid I’m not the good guy in this story.”

“Logan.” You emphasize his name, pleading with him for clarity. “What happened between you?”

“It ain’t gonna make me look very good in your sweet little eyes. ”A deep breath and a long talk later he told you what happened, how he came to Xavier institute with Rogue, how he fell in love with Jean Grey. That part shocked and carved a pit in your stomach, because she was always someone you compare yourself to, with her beautiful red hair and soft eyes, her thin but strong body curving in a beautiful wave. And she was a mutant. You always fretted about not being a mutant, if that was a turn off for Logan that you were weak, useless, needed to be protected.

Logan laid it out for you, how he knowingly and willingly began an affair with Jean, that she cheated on Scott. This also surprised you. Scott was someone you liked a lot, seemed like a loving husband. He clearly adored Jean. Why would she cheat? Still, you were disappointed in Logan. He knew what he was did.

“Well… you’re right. You are the bad guy here…”

“I know.”

“But Lo… she made her own choice. I mean, it wasn’t good of you, especially to Scott-”

“What do you mean, ‘Especially Scott?” Logan’s voice held scrutiny, and you couldn’t help smirk a little at him.

“I mean he’s kind, Logan. I know you can’t really see it, you don’t like him, but he is.”

He relaxes. "Sorry... old habits die hard, I guess..." Logan's hand reaches up to cup your face, thumbing gently over your cheek. His eyes held worry as he searched yours for answers. "Does that ruin things, dolly?"

Heat creeps up your body, warming your neck. You and him... you never addressed what this was between you, and you wanted to keep it that way. You loved him, of course you loved Logan, you loved him in a way you'd never felt for your husband. What you felt for Mark was teenage infatuation of a child who didn't know she was being taken advantage of. This was real. Logan was sweet, he was kind, and most importantly to you he was gentle.

Your parent's followed the teaching of the Pearls, their book, "To Train Up a Child" was second only to the bible in your household, and you remember watching in horror as they smacked your younger siblings to prevent them from leaving a laid put blanket. When you protested, your mother asked "so, you want Grace to go to hell?" You didn't know what to think of that, so you couldn't protest anymore, because of course, of course you don't want your sister to go to hell! So it was hell or aggression? Was gentleness a sin? You were conditioned to accept abuse as love, that domestic discipline was your husband teaching you because he loved you, he wanted better for you.

His hand leaves your face when he notices you shrink back.

"Lo, I'm... I'm not right for you."

His hands drop to his sides, bewilderment clouding his face. "Is this about not being able to have kids? Dolly, I want that with you, of course i do but... a baby that doesn't even exist yet isn't more important to me than you are... dolly I lo-"

But you backed away. Shaking your head in your now-dirty dress, hair falling out of it's pins, you looked so sad, like you were falling apart. It broke his heart.

"I don't just mean that."

He blinks. "It is the pants thing?" You mentioned it early, that he deserved someone who doesn't cry when they try on pants. "baby, I don't care if you can't wear pants or drive or, or whatever it is you think is wrong with you. I love you as you are! I want to help you, me and Remy, we can help you get better but if i have to drive you around for the rest of our lives..." He chuckles wryly, hands stretched out in pleading, begging for you to fall into him the way you wanted to. "Well, you won't hear me complaining. Whatever it takes to have you in my life."

But he didn't know you. He thought the only worries you had were the leftover weird little habits you had from your upbringing and nothing could be further from the truth. "I'm not who you think i am, Logan. there's- there's something wrong with me. Something very, very wrong and I'm a bad person who-"

"Dolly..."

"I DESERVE EVERYTHING BAD THAT HAPPENED TO ME!"

You're cry echoes off the walls of the school hall, and you can't even bare to face him. He will just try to tell you that you didn't deserve it, that you are good.

But that is only because he doesn't know you.

If Logan knew the truth, he could never look at you again.

You turn around and ran away.

After

The sound of prom flowed in through the window, your students laughing and having fun to the music. You were glad, even if you couldn't see. Everything those kids have worked through, the trauma they experienced gets to go away for a night. They don't have to be mutants. They don't have to be the freaks they were called by the ones who were supposed to love them. They were just teenagers.

Logan held you in his arms, his body radiating heat and strength and protection you couldn't help be drawn to. Maybe it was the pregnancy, a biological urge to have someone who is going to protect you. Maybe it was your body being drawn to it's father. Maybe you were just weak.

"Let me take care of you, Dolly..." He whispered against the corner of your mouth, lips ghosting over yours like they were asking for permission. "Won't let no one hurt you again, you and our baby... we could be so happy."

Flashes of his abuse flicked, the way you held your arms over your eyes because you couldn't make sense of Logan being the one doing this to you. because it was easier to pretend it was someone else. How you sobbed. How he slapped you... How he held you so sweetly after, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...' but as soon as they were came, they left when your hand on his shoulder grazes his collarbone.

So warm.

You couldn't do this alone. You were terrified, terrified of having a baby, of having a baby out of wedlock, of the shame and embarrassment and the questions. There would be so many questions. Scott knows, so who else does? Has Remy figured it out? Remy wouldn't hate you for having a baby with a man you weren't with, would he? Of course not, but your old beliefs creep in.

"I'll marry you, Dolly." Logan whispers. "My little wife... my perfect girl... You'll never have to worry again..."

It sounded nice. it sounded safe. It sounded like your Logan, the Logan you trusted...

"We're both a little fucked up, aren't we?"

You remember. you remember the things you'd done. The story you trusted to Logan before he did what he did to you...

"you can't ever do that again, Logan..." You say, hesitantly, and you can feel him smile against your lips.

"Never. I'd never hurt my baby doll."

He wouldn't hurt his baby doll. His girl. his wife. The mother of his child... Logan had given you what you wanted, your baby... you could have it all again. A happy family. A husband. A good life here at the school... all you had to do was forgive and forget.

It was what the bible taught, wasn't it? He confessed his sins. He was forgiven by god, so who were you to hold out?

"Okay." You whisper and nod. "I forgive you. Just..." Your eyes meet his, and there's a hope in there you haven't seen for months. "Just don't fail me this time."

"Never." The lips that had been so clos you could feel the lines finally collided with yours again, and it was like the damn had broke. Hands pawed at skin and you kissed Logan like you were trying to swallow him whole, a communion of two bodies pulled together. Logan picked you up, pressing your back against the wall as he ground his hips against your pubic bone, your legs and arms wrapped tightly around him like you'd wanted to do for nearly a year.

Don't fail me, Logan Howlett

"Taste so pretty" Logan murmurs, shuttering as his erection pressed against you. He wasn't exactly making sense, so lost in your that words came out messy and jumbled and god, did it make your head spin. He was drunk of you.

He carried you to your bed, laying you down so gently he cradled your head until it hit the pillow, soft as his lips on your neck. Your dress rucked up around your thighs, falling down when he spread them to loop at your core. You wore tights, of course, but Logan was not hindered. One claw came out just enough for him to cut through the black material, revealing the wet spot of your cotton panties. You should feel embarrassed, honestly, that you weren't wearing the sexiest of clothes, but the way Logan looked at you all of that dissapeared.

Guilt crawled under your skin, a creeping feeling in the back of your head that this was wrong, that this was something god frowned on, that you were bad for doing this...

You wish you knew him before it felt like like a sin.

Logan's mouth was warm over your still-clothed cunt; he mouthed over it, his licking adding to the wetness pooling until sharp teeth tore at the material, masking you gasp once and then again when he dove into you.

Mark never touched you like this.

He never loved you like this.

Logan's tongue on your pussy was unlike anything you'd experienced before, his fingers so much thicker than your own and god, nothing had ever felt so good before.

"Want you to cum, baby doll." he whispers to your cunt. "give it to me, cum on my face." His arm wrapped around your leg, holding you down as you squirm and pleasure and all the overwhelming sensations. "You can do it baby. Let me taste you."

Your hands card though his hair, gripping him; when you cum, you pull so hard on the dark waves for a moment you think you've hurt him... but when he finishes lapping up your juices, his head pops out from under your skirt... he's grinning.

That ear to ear, shit eating, boyish grin you loved so much about him before, before it all got so complicated.

When Logan slid inside you, it didn't hurt. you felt a stretch, sure, but not pain... still, there was an aching inside you, a pain that screamed out SOMETHING IS WRONG! ITS WRONG! ITS WRONG! but you shoved it away. It was just the guilt, that's all. It was guilt from a religion that tore you to shreds, that stripped down every essence of your being until you were a shell, a community of people dependent on thought crimes and martyrdom that somehow never applied to men the way it did to you, and made you feel dirty for wanting to feel pretty. That's what it was.

This with Logan, it wa right. That's why God gave you a baby, right? You were being rewarded. Mark wasn't the one, Logan was. it was fine. it was good.

And he made you feel so, so good.

Logan fucked your body with a passion you didn't know what possible, his hands wandering and groping and feeling, just needing to know every single inch of you, learning what made you gasp and moan and what made you tense and uncomfortable. He drove his cock so deep inside you that you saw stars, an intense sensation of being full, so fucking full. All the while, he was gentle with your stomach, always touching it in some way, needing to be close you know, knowing he was the reason you had stretch marks and he was the reason you swelled with a child.

"Mine." Logan growled, claiming your mouth with fervor and passion as he hips slammed inside you. "You're mine, dolly, and no one is ever going to take you away f-from me, FUCK!"

You didn't care who heard you, if anyone left the party early and came to the rooms. Remy's was the closest, and he certainly wouldn't care.

You let your pleasure me known, moaning his name as your fingernails clawed up his back faster than he could heal. Logan like the pain, smiling when you drew blood. It made you feel good to make it smile. It made you feel good to make him hurt.

You thought he'd cum inside; you were already pregnant so there was no other risk. Logan remained unpredictable.

After he makes you cum so hard you bite through his skin, Logan pulls out with a 'pop!' and flips up your dress. You watch in aw as he jerks himself off, strong body, soft muscles, and the absolute look of lust on his face as he stared directly down on your cunt, painting it with rope after rope of white cum. He was filing it away for his memory, the way his seed covered you, sticking to the public hair and contrasting against your skin.

Once he was sure he'd never forget, and every last drop was pulled from his softening cock, Logan's tongue cleaned you.

THEY FUCKED!!!!!!

we're not at the end though, tee hee! still more!

My tags have not been tagging??????? s be careful and make sure youre caught up!!! also if you wanna join my discord to keep up, let me know! it is a fully leftist group, pro queer, anti-zionism, leftist etc etc

check out these events!

1000 follower fundraiser game!

dead dove december

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight

[weralika]

my essay about kevin's sexuality

my point is: everything in aftg books revolves around kevin day being straight

I often say that kandrew fucked for sure/ kevin tried to kiss him/ he's in love with neil but I understand that it's not true and I live in delusion.

because we can clearly see that he has a lot of strange interactions with other male characters, I don't know if he considers them strange as well, but they are fucking odd! what do you mean you promised andrew to give him something to live for? what do you mean jean didn't kill himself because you made him make that promise? the fuck neil "gave you his game" like boy... you live through your life making other boys look your way when you enter the room, and neil had fallen for you not knowing he's not straight (a topic for another essay, tell me if you want to hear about it)

and, despite being a hot guy and a fucking wet dream, you never try to scare the boys off, maybe you don't know they are in love with you or you are okay with this, since it has nothing to do with exy (well, it fucking does).

the sanity of jean and andrew and neil (and nicky and matt, etc) only there because they know they can never get you.

andrew would do anything for you, if you two had a thing — he resists the temptation to stop the fucking world spinning for you, because he can predict his own future: the more he does for you, the more he falls in love with you. yes, we can say that they are good friends, but (in my opinion!!) it costs so much not to ruin everything by kissing that stupid red lips (credit is due, kevin drinks a lot of water) andrew has a lot of self discipline because he doesn't want to break his own heart by having stupid hopes.

jean would never even be there if you were gay, kevi! I don't know if you'd escape nest leaving him behind, but in case you do — andrew takes you under his wing, jean knows your secret passion for boys and he knows a fucked up couple when he sees one. he starts to wonder if your stupid friendship meant nothing, you never even kissed him but jean asked too many times. you were gay, but not for jean? I guess it's a solid reason to end up anywhere in that bunch of drafts, not in the one you survived.

neil would be the one confusing you about your attraction to many boys but not one, and andrew would kill him! I don't know, imagine a new boy has a binder with photos of you boyfriend! what do you want he's my boy, and you're a threat so get out (okay, maybe andrew won't jump into conclusions there too, but damn... neil are you with mafia? wanna know how sharp my blade is?)

Wymack would have half of grey hairs by the time his foxes win their first game because he isn't paid for all that gay drama (well, the main gay is my son. who would've guessed.)

conclusion: kevin is really straight in the books, or he lies to himself so long he almost believes it! I know that because if he wasn't, the other male characters in the books were not just head over heels about him but also tried to kill each other because kevin is to precious to be hurt! the books would be so fucking different if he was/accepted himself being gay! it would be 300% more insane!

disclaimer: it's only my opinion and you are free to disagree! you can tell your version in comments/reblogs/tags

thank you very much 🫦

[oneshotgremlin]

First impressions on Fake Peppino Friday (aka how Pep and Fep first met in my interp):

(Context: Back in the earlier versions of pizza tower, the tunnel chase was a lot harder, and there’s this one drop that immediately goes into an overhang. When I say that I tried SO many times to grab slide through it but because of how little space there was I just KEPT GRABBING AT THE WALL OH MY GOD

Anyways, I like to keep my failures in my interpretation. Adds a je ne sais quoi to some of the character dynamics [judgement and concern])

No because this is actually so funny if you think about. Imagine being in Fake Peppino's shoes, right?

You're alone in in your restaurant. Waiting. Anticipating. And then you hear it. Footsteps.

You turn around and you see...You. You, but not. The You you've been watching on static riddled TV screens. The You you've heard your pizza-headed creator curse out so much, yet fail to measure up to.

It's the You you should've been.

You scream and you scream with him. "He can't get past you. Don't let him get to staff only." It's the one task your creator drilled into your head, above pizza making.

You attack.

And you can't keep up with him as you fight. Even in person, giving everything you've got, even getting some hits in, you still fail to compare to him.

But when the floor beneath both of you breaks, and he speeds away running for his life, he crashes into an overhang in the tunnel you've fallen in.

As he panickedly scrabbles against the dark stone, you finally catch up to him and. Bite. Down.

The world goes black. Then you're standing back in your restaurant. You aren't entirely surprised, nothing truly stays dead or destroyed in this tower. From the levels to the pillars to even the people, they all come back one way or another.

You hear footsteps. You turn around.

It's You.

...[TWO HOURS LATER]...

Oh Cheesus Crust it's You again.

You don't know how many times he's gone through your boss room, and at this point you're too afraid to keep count.

He doesn't even scream after walking in anymore. Neither do you. You're unspeakably worried for this man's sanity, assuming that it exists in the first place (you're less and less sure it does with every reattempt he makes).

You're not actually sure if he's even trying to get past you at this point. If anything he's decided to have a blood feud with one particular overhang in the tunnel and is somehow sorely losing.

Again.

At this point, you're pretty confident you know every single Italian and American swear in the global lexicon, along with some new ones that were invented within the last two hours alone.

As you once again catch up to him, you don't even bother biting him. Clearly getting repeatedly crushed into pulp is not the deterrent it is for every single other creature in this tower. You scruff his shirt with your teeth and carry him out and he just lets you like he did for the past hour or so. Soon enough he'll be back re-doing the same song and dance you've done for 2 hours straight before racing off to fistfight The Wall.

You don't know what this man's malfunction is but maybe you should be a little grateful that you aren't entirely like him after all.

(Bonus doodle for the peeps that read through it all):

[wonymao]

ᯓ sweet like chocolate °ᡣ𐭩 . 🍫 !!

trying to study with ryo who thinks studying is boring

a/n; lowkey might be my last one for a while bc school n work is making me want to kms 😭🙏

ryo x gn! reader

no cws! fluff, sfw, established relationship

wc; 459

the two of you were supposed to be studying for a test tomorrow at school... but you werent expecting the both of you to be on your bed, laying on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. boas 'no.1' playing on his phone, n ryo singing along with it while playing with your hair. paying attention to him, not the math test.

earlier

sitting at your desk, with your boyfriend pulling up a chair to sit beside you. he promised he would help you study if you let him come over, but.. hes kinda just watching you do your work and correcting you if you get it wrong.

hearing ryo sigh for like the 6th time, fidgeting with a pencil of yours to keep his sanity. "ughhh y/n im soo bored, cant we do something else?" ryo huffs out leaning back into his chair.

"just because youre naturally smart and place 1st doesnt mean i can, i have to study otherwise ill fail ryo" you say paying no attention to your boyfriend who is almost begging for you to do anything else but study

"what i have never placed 1st.., lets do it later, please!!

feeling a little hungry, you reach over to the right corner of your desk, grabbing a chocolate from the pencil holder, unwrapping it and popping it in your mouth. instantly feeling relieved from the sugar and focusing back onto your notes.

"what did you just eat?" ryo questions as you were too fast he couldnt even see, especially it coming from a pencil holder, he kinda just assumed you popped an eraser in your mouth.

"chocolate."

"ooh, me too! i want one!" ryo says reaching towards the same cup you just grabbed from. stopping his hand half way,

shaking your head at your boyfriend who looks confused. "i ate the last one" you tease at him sticking out your tongue

ryo not liking how youre teasing him aks you to look at him. turning your body to look at your boyfriend, one of his hands grab your hand laying on the desk, and his other carresing your cheek with his thumb. pulling you closer. you know what hes about to do, but you let it happen.

your lips meet each others, as you both close your eyes. his lips were always so soft moving against yours. you slightly part your lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside for a brief moment before gently pulling apart. releasing his hand from your cheek, letting go of his other holding your hand to intertwine fingers.

"shouldve saved me a chocolate.." he spoke softly, hiding his flushed face.

"but i still dont wanna study.." he muttetered. you sigh in defeat, you could never say no to ryos cute face

[gotskamstuff]

Do you think Rudy will come back after all this stuff coming out

Do I hope it until the very end? Yes, but it’s probably part of my coping mechanism and still being in denial.

Realistically? Sadly, I highly doubt it.

I think that even before the release of the finale he wanted to put a definite end to this experience…and honestly I think that all the shit online towards his girlfriend and the articles about the “feud” only made the situation worse. To me this collective behavior is only contributing to confirm his decision (and I’m not talking about expressing the disappointed towards the season and the writing, I’d be an hypocrite ‘cause I’m the n.1 doing it as you can see, I mean the insults and gossip and hate)

The only thing I could possibly maybe see for it to work out is if the producers get to a point of actually fearing for the show and result to close to begging him, offering more money or coming to an agreement for the shortest amount of episodes as possible.

But to be fair, we’re all focusing on Rudy but even the writers we don’t know if they want to or have the intention to do something about it, yes the backlash is massive and I’m the first one advocating under their social media (THE SHOW’S ONE, let’s leave the cast alone pls)…but it’s a big plot to turn around and we don’t know if they’re willing to, also ‘cause we don’t know how far S5 is already into writing, depends on how much there would be to scrap up and start again as well, delaying means more money and I don’t think at the moment Netflix is well intentioned for accommodating OBX and it’s madness. (Obx makes TONS of money for Netflix and they even invest so much into it with production budget, events, merch etc. so no one can convince me that THIS is the reason why they cut it short to one more season and that’s it…they renewed that shitshow that’s Elite since forever just for money)

I think it’s a hope that I don’t want to let go and I won’t give up advocating for it until I see them on that set until the very last day of shooting, but realistically I find it really really hard. To come to this it means that Rudy was probably well damn set on his decision.

Once again I believe that the truth stands in the middle, some of the speculations (even regarding the writers) are true and others very much blown up by fans and media…we don’t even know for certain if the writers want that, we need to take everything we read with a pinch of salt.

So long story short: I hope so and I’ll keep advocating for it (even for my own sanity) but I think it’s really really difficult.

One thing’s for sure…without JJ I’m not watching S5 and I mean it. I physically can’t.

[kaontic]

Oh my actual Lord, the dream’s come true. O_O

*Kicks down door* OH THUNDERCRACKEEER~

BUSTER’S ‘BOUT TO GETTA NEW FRIEEEND~ (´∀`)//🐱

He’s got a pet human now too, I guess—

Why my dumb human ass, with my crappy art, could almost wish upon an evil shootin’ star, that it was me instead “What?” What—? 😶

Alright. Now we just need Skywarp to get one. Or two. Or a few. Someday. Maybe.

Um—

*Whispers* Psst, hey, Megs, I don’t wanna be that betch—I make unintentional mistakes I gotta edit for my sanity all the time—but, it’s “What do you say”. That’s probably why they’re givin’ ya looks.

I mean, that’s pretty accurate Megatron dialogue ngl. Like this is the same guy that said in G1 “Power flows to the one who knows how”, as if that was an actual full sentence.

Ik, that’s beside the point of what the frag’s goin’ on, so, “respectfully” (with heavy emphasis on the quotation marks)—

Can ya just…rip out your own chain-smoker soundin’ aft voice box, and shove it? Pretty please? Mr. Geneva Suggestions?

“YoU kNoW tHe LiMiTs Of My PoWeR! i NeEd SoMeOnE tO wIElD mE!”

“But my leader, you have your fusion cannon—”

“Do NoT qUeStIoN mE sTaRsCrEaM!”

Unless Skybound’s gonna give us a “good” aft explanation for this, like some Cybertronian gunformer curse we dunno about yet (given the serious corruption goin’ on, from the looks of it, with Star and Op)—

I would say more about Megs’ gun mode as an effective concept, but I’ll save all that for another post.

Instead I’ll just spout out this scrap to review:

Most explanations are welcome for why villains do what they do, even if it’s just “Cuz I’m evil”. 😈

(TF One Sentinel tho…yeah. Gotta make a post regarding him as well)

Here, they wanna save their home planet as energy sources dwindle.

Ok, so resources. Got it. Yes. #1 reason why wars are fought, and wars need soldiers to fuel ‘em. Enemies turned potential recruits who are prisoners don’t comply? Well, logically speaking then— 🤡

Or maybe, just maybe—this might sound crazy, but—how about not start a whole goddamn war that will worsen this crisis, Megs?

How about not turn fellow Cybertronians into the worst versions of themselves, and delete their innocence? Cuz great, now ya created a monster that will betray ya!

Ask yourself: What the frag are you fighting for?

Cuz you’re just makin’ the problem worse, mate.

At least Jetfire tried to look beyond Cybertron peacefully for a solution, which despite how well that went, sounded a helluva lot better than exhaustive in-fighting, but no, frag exploration.

Frag trading with “filthy” organic alien species.

Frag experimenting for new sources of energy (lookin’ at you, Shockwave. Now I know your aft was enabled).

Frag examining Cybertron’s history for answers.

Frag speaking with Optimus like a civilized individual.

Population control’s where it’s at, apparently. ಠ_ಠ)

Jesus, so many questions NOT ENOUGH DEETS.(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

WE NEED MORE FLASHBACKS STAT.

Skybound Megs so far, is coming off as a guy who, when the worst happens, will just use the situation/impending apocalypse to his advantage to do terrible stuff, and get away with it through all the chaos.

Furthermore, it’s like we’re watching him live out some sick fantasy of his while he’s all “This is for the greater good of Cybertron!”. Like no bitch! There’s other options! You have no excuse!

You wanna be a pred, who kills for pleasure and power, while demanding to share that experience with others with or without their consent.

There. That’s what kept me up last issue.

Well, this is one moral of this ongoing story, and life advice I guess:

BEWARE THE F*CKIN’ NICE ONES!

For they may be the worst of all. Great…

*Proceeds to pollute my sketchbook with more Megatron art cuz I am indeed that betch*

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina!! First of all, I wanted to thank you and Daisie and everyone else here for the amazing Larry masterlist. I'm a new larrie myself, though I've been around the fandom since 2011 (tho not super closely) when WMYB MV was released. I was deep diving on receipts, and as per usual, I took it all in with a grain of salt and kept all my conclusions rational and unbiased. I just wanna add something you might consider a receipt, connecting to one of the tour receipts ones I’ve read on Daisie’s tags (I dove into both yours and Daisie’s tags lol). This isn't so big and new at all but I thought I'd add. Sorry in advance if I am too vague with this lol

A quick context: I had worked with small event productions here in my country, and had become pretty close with suppliers (tech, security, venue, etc). I got curious about an entry I read from your receipts tag which happened in an international tour here. Anyway, I am pretty close with our security supplier, and I thought I'd check if there were traces of them working with the boys. After a few google search, I saw them with Louis on a video during his tour here - confirming that at least for that show, they did work with Louis. He has been very open to me ever since we met, so when I DMed him about being involved in the show, he enthusiastically answered that they did all 1D-related ones in the country.

Anyway, bottomline, I tried to ask if it's true that Louis was here during Harry's concert because I've kind of heard it somewhere (being the receipt I read from Daisies' account). That’s when he got weirdly super silentl and left me on ‘seen’/‘read’ (which had never happened EVER before). I waited with the chat box open; he se seemed type after a few mins - and then stopped completely. When I realized he (c)wouldn't reply, I didn't push it and said he doesn't have to respond and that I respect if he’s bound by certain contracts. After that, he immediately replied, basically just saying "Thank you" (for understanding, essentially). We just chatted a bit more before ending the convo.

So I guess I'd say it somewhat solidifies that theory in my head because I personally know them, and if there's really something super big they cannot share at all, they WONT. I knew there was something because it was almost comical for me how he suddenly left me on ‘read’. So if it's not a big deal at all he would've shared because we've talked about other works they've done in the past (he was so enthusiastic and shared all the names of the shows they've done with 1D a few mins prior lol) - but when I specifically asked if Louis was with Harry here for his tour, he immediately closed off and stopped replying - and THEN thanked me when I said he didn’t have to reply lol (I didn’t ask anything else, just that exact wording, straightforwardly asking if L was there during H's show, and I didn’t phrase it in a playful or teasing way like I am implying there’s smth gossip-worthy between them I'm fishing out of him)

ANYWAY, I’m not even sure if this is worth posting but I needed someone to share it with and I thought it could be like a backup info for the future hahahaha I am trying to be vague because I do want to protect myself and my (in a way) source (?). But if you need any clarification from me - I’d be open to elaborate more in the dms (I’m rusty with tumblr so I hope I can navigate this properly lol)

Ofc, a part of me wish I could've gotten something, but I also respect them for staying quiet. And even if they did share something big, I might've had second thoughts on sharing bcs I was mainly asking it for my own sanity tbh, knowing that I knew who the security team was lol So I guess my point of sharing this with you is to basically share that the usual NDA thing with H&L, whether as a whole 1D unit before or as solos, is definitely enforced here. That the silence somewhat solidified my belief of other Larry receipts such as 1.) in relation to the Argentinian security confessions, and 2.) the receipts pointing out that those two fly together sometimes in the tours.

Idk if this is worth posting at all, but I just really needed to let it because I feel like I might be getting biased but also not (it was very fishy for me for sure lol). Thank you!

Hi, darling. No, it’s totally worth posting! I agree with you that it says something without saying anything. Are you able to tell me what year you were asking about? Or what country? I won’t post anything you don’t want public.

I’m really glad to hear that people take their NDAs seriously and even if it was from years ago they would still be professional about it.

Thank you so much for sharing this. If you think of anything else you can add, LMK. Or send me a DM. I’ll keep it private. 🩷

[forwomenbiwomen]

The ways testosterone affects the body is not to be understated, however. There are inescapable physical differences between men and women, that's common sense. I see no reason why the physical differences and hormone levels don't affect how the brain responds even a little bit. I say this as someone who knows female and male structures are functionally the same, btw. It's just a fact I can't shake that we have different balances of hormones and cycles and even male animals are rapey and vile. And then there's the fact that when males dope up testosterone, they are commonly more violent with less empathy.

But no. I don't think they're totally a lost cause. Do you remember the case where the males of a chimp (?) tribe were wiped out in some freak event and the males that were born without that influence were peacefully raised by females, turning into perfectly fine members of the community? (The only argument against that is how they got that way in the first place.)

I choose to believe they're not inherently violent for my own sanity lol. I believe it is in fact socialisation and social structures that allow them to act on their base impulses. Because their forefathers have somehow turned the desire to mate with the best female above other males into violence of women and institutionalised hierarchical structures, they're emboldened to act differently than they would have if women were equal. Men with stable and equal families, or who have been homeschooled, are far less violent and that to me proves that they can be tempered with the right upbringing and worldwide socialisation. It's a big ask and I don't know how we're going to get there, tbh.

So this question is a little complicated. While I definitely don't think that someone's personality changes their sex, I do find it a little strange when radfems say that there's no difference between how men and women think but in the same breath talk about the fact that TIMs being violent and sexually aggressive is indicative of the fact that they're men. This cognitive dissonance is very frustrating to me, because I absolutely believe that there's a difference in how men and women behave and think. Men are more violent and sexually aggressive, that's just a fact, and it's the reason they've always oppressed us. But I don't believe that if a man happens to be less violent and sexually aggressive that that somehow means he's a woman.

So here's my question:

Setting aside the trans issue for a second, do you believe that there is a difference between the way men and women think on a fundamental level?

Yes, solely because of their violent tendencies; other than that there are no differences

Yes, because of their violent tendencies, and there are also other ways women think differently from men

No, they aren't inherently more violent than us, though there are other differences

No, they aren't inherently more violent than us, and there are no differences whatsoever

Unsure

-🐌

[keferon]

I. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. I’m okay I’m fine I’m okay I’m fine I’m oka

The fic I'm illustrating and losing my mind about 👉 Mistakes on mistakes until

[julesart04]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A friend pointed out how in this post, Mobei Jun looks like he's wearing a shirt, opening up the avenue for him to have been secretly stuffing his bra this whole time. The scandal of it all needed to be exposed.

[oil-bh]

(Note: I'm using the pronouns I headcanon for the characters. Hank: they/any, they/them preference. Jebediah: he/him. Tricky: it/any. Phobos: He/Him. The Auditor: any. 2B: he/it)

THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY... I think about the Sleepwalkers a lot. My self insert is also Sleepwalker (who managed to keep their sanity and be found by some people and brought back to health) because that project specifically just rots my mind so so much. Like it's actually fucking horrifying when you think about it for more than 20 seconds.

I think it makes a lot of sense in the worldbuilding for madcom if Hank was formerly a Sleepwalker - Hank's shown repeatedly to have very high-level combat skills and to be able to survive things that would kill other grunts, like that train sequence with Tricky. Additionally, in the game, Sleepwalkers get better at combat every time they die, and Hank seems to do similarly, improving and developing after each instance of dying. The only difference is that Hank isn't connected to the self-destructing head gear, and their sanity is very much debatable, like the Sleepwalkers.

Sleepwalkers were created by Jeb as a means to get Project Zed shut down or at least abandoned, but Phobos trained them to be His private army instead. I feel like that point especially could explain some of Hank's relationships with other characters:

Jebediah - Jeb and Hank have a long history of absolutely hating each other. Jeb hates how violent Hank is, and view them as a threat to the armageddon that he thinks he needs to bring about. However, in the Sleepwalker Hank HC, I think this can be expanded on a LOT. Jeb has a long and negative history with Phobos, the Zeds, etc. I think that seeing Hank running around and killing people would lead to Jeb viewing Hank as a remnant of Phobos, even after the events of MPN. I think that could be a key motivating factor for his behaviours of targeting Hank and his brief alliance with the AAHW. I think it could also feed into how his character is pretty implied to be delusional and how he might be having stress/trauma responses to seeing Hank, thinking that Hank could be a Generation One grunt with the ability to ascend like Phobos tried to do.

Tricky - Formerly being one of the Nexus Scientists and now being a Zed itself, I think Tricky has a hell of a lot of motivation to hate Hank. I think it'd also be interesting if Tricky sort of like... projected? onto Hank. It has a history of saying things like "you don't kill clown, clown kills you" and while that could be brushed off as a rivalry dynamic or something, I think it'd made more sense if Tricky's former status as a Nexus scientist has rendered its mind more intact than other Zeds, and therefore intact enough to feel a sort of self-loathing or twisted perception of feeling inferior as a Zed and how Sleepwalkers were presented as so much better than Zeds were.

AAHW - Okay, hear me out on this one. I mentioned briefly that I HC the AAHW as a branch that split off from Nexus Core, and I want to elaborate on that. I think Nexus/Phobos realized how dangerous the Sleepwalkers could be if they weren't controlled, since they're always being fed combat data. That said, I think that after Hank somehow got loose or otherwise separated and no longer under Nexus'/Phobos' control, they started training people to seek out and hunt down Hank. Those people then later formed the AAHW and then fully split off from Nexus either due to Phobos' death or due to the Auditor inserting himself into their ranks, eventually twisting some of their morals to suit her ideas.

SQ and 2B - I really, really think that 2B was a former Nexus scientist and not just an ex-AAHW member. I headcanon him to have overseen some of the experiments in Nexus Core before being transferred to what would later become the AAHW. I think it never had the same Hank-centric plans of capture and/or destruction, but that he still had a lot of interest in Hank. Enough to possibly be connected to experiments like them to have gotten loose or escaped. I really think that he was behind these sorts of things as one of the original Dissenters and with its early ideas that would later found Status Quo.

Anyway hehe... that's my little ramble. I should seriously doodle more of this HC and the other HCs that take place in my personal AU/interpretation of Madness Combat. Have some extra little tidbits for this HC!! :

Hank is semi-verbal (like me!) because speech wasn't prioritized in the Sleepwalker Program.

They also don't have many general education skills (reading, writing, math, etc) for similar reason as above.

Hank goes into a dissociated autopilot state sometimes during combat.

The goggles and mask feel comforting and familiar to the mask that they wore during the experiments.

Hank has an interest in non-combat things such as guitar lessons and volleyball tryouts, but has a difficult time picking them up because they're so accustomed to combat.

They're somniphobic and will often push themself as far as physically possible to avoid sleeping; often 2B is the one relaxing them into resting. This is why Doc is stated to be the only one to know Hank's soft side, their weaknesses.

Hank developed DPDR as a result of the Sleepwalker Project, since that half-awake and half-asleep state suspended their brain into dissociative states and experiencing reality in a foggy way.

Can you tell that I think about this ALL of the time...

I need to figure out how to draw Hank 😭😭 my headcanon for them is that they were a Sleepwalker and somehow managed to get separated from the Nexus stuff, and that because they were a Sleepwalker, it’s the cause of all their combat skills and why they just randomly started killing in the first episode, and also the general violence… and then maybe that led to a faction of Nexus Core becoming the AAHW (also a headcanon that the two groups were affiliated at some point if not from the same original group and later divided) to take Hank down because they are watching the consequences of their actions via Hank. I’m very tired and in a time cramp so this isn’t very cohesive but Imve been thinking of this headcanon for years

[unhinged-nymph]

Young Link’s giggle has permanently changed my brain chemistry and I’m not even kidding