𐐪𐑂 Kitten Comics 𐐪𐑂

I fucking love gyutaro

I don’t make love
          I fuck
          Hard
          /ref

You still active or alive 

I’m making a DHMIS fic who should the reader date

Idk guys I just want someone (Gyutaro) to hold me close and call me ‘sweet girl’ or ‘princess’ or ‘angel’ while they(Gyutaro Shabana) runs their fingers through my hair and calls me pretty while they(Gyutaro Shabana Kimetsu no Yabia) tell me everything is gonna be okay and how much they love me because I just want someone(Gyutaro Shabana upper moon 6) to like softly pet me bc like idk it feels so good when someone (specifically Gyutaro Shabana upper moon six of the twelve kizuki from kimetsu no yabia) just like scratches/rubs my head and plays with my hair and I get all the good nice tingly positive :3 feelings because they (my wife Gyutaro) love me

Mfs will see me simping for a fictional character and go ‘what happened 2 u as a child?’ Like little bro u do not wanna know

Bc of a silly discord talk about DHMIS I realized one of my wattpad DHMIS mutuals groomed me when I was like 11 and being abused/groomed already by someone else
          Not cool

Chrima animation
          https://youtu.be/eowsdY59drA?si=vDjfPfmX4hpwj0Na

Nothing makes my pussy wetter than a mf asking me to ramble about aot(this post is a joke((it’s kinda a joke)))

My demon slayer fics; and then they cuddled and were happily ever after
          My aot fics;Some are just born into this world special
          Though while some under that category are seen as wonderful; others are seen as dangerous, as monsters, freaks of nature If the giant hand that raised me from birth is so evil
          Than why is it the only hand that has ever shown me warmth and comfort during my darkest of times
          A creature meant to be a beast, a monster Has been more human to me than any person could ever be.
          For creatures meant to be mindless; holding no will or name
          How could such a being be so special? So smart and delicate, sweeter than the flowers that bloom after a cold winter storm. Mara, blessed with such a sweet name and such a gentle voice, though cursed with the inability to use it.
          The hands that picked me up from the rubble and ash and tended to my wounds
          The hands that kept me warm when the weather was harsh
          And the hands that cared for me so delicately and lovingly
          How could they be evil?
          Will the creature that is no less of a mother to me than how a human mother is to her child
          Really never be seen as the angel she truly is?
          As for me
          Will I ever be human?
          Will I ever be looked at and seen as an equal among all these faces I find so unrecognizable?
          Or will I forever be cast out as an abomination A blight brought upon this world, even though none of it was of my doing.
          Or maybe
          Somehow
          One day
          People will look upon both me and my mother And see us as no different from them.
          But I fear that that day
          Is not visible in any foreseeable future
          No matter how much I want it to be.