#Repost sorry :[

[radaverse]

Late Night Snack Comic

Warning: Wholesome (?)

I honestly loved drawing this one btw

fake pep really loves hugs

COLORED VERSION

[karokawwo]

leander hip windows + ais and vere with the boyfriend jacket

[cereovo]

birdsona

[danthropologie]

undefined

corporate wants you to find the differences

[thepeakofsonicmusic]

FINAL MATCH

[supermaks]

E [charles/max] published 2023-08-14

Implied sex addiction, infidelity, Bruce Springsteen, ficlet, <600 words, 2023 szn compliant;

it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull, and cut six inch valley through the middle of my skull

There’s something about having sex with Max that never quite registers well in Charles’ memory, no matter how many times they do it. As much as Charles thinks about it, and he thinks about it a fair amount—sometimes even seconds after Max stretches and rolls off him—Charles tries to remember what they just did, what Max just did, to him, and he never seems to capture the real thing. He’s already chasing after a ghost, even in the dark, sky getting pink behind the blackout curtains, while the ghost showers in Charles’ bathroom, uses his girlfriend’s expensive fucking shampoo, and sings, oh oh oh I'm on fire in a voice Charles collects and replays like a broken cassette. That should do it, right? He’s hard and Max is naked on the other side of a glass wall. There’s come still dripping out of his ass. It should be easy enough. He’s 25. But he can’t.

“Mate, are you whining? Come here, you fucker.” Max calls from the bathroom. Charles tries to get his breathing under control and wishes he could pretend he doesn’t want to go. He used to be so good at pretending with Max. He wonders when that changed. Probably when they started fucking.

Obviously, memories are just memories, they lack the real touch, the real body, the real heat, the kisses, and the wet, gentle pressure. But Charles has made himself come thinking about many other people in the past. Porn is movement and noise on a screen and it does just fine when he’s desperate. Max, though, the Max in his head, the one that he can’t reach outside his home, or Max’s countless hotel rooms, or the ugliest airbnb anyone’s ever paid $800 for in Las Vegas, Nevada.

The Max Charles can’t touch, is just—well, he’s utterly unreachable. And it leaves a breach inside of Charles that he has no idea how to mend. He’s never had to mend himself over sex before. No one had ever managed to leave him quite so—gapped, gasping for proof that it was ever real. He knows it was real. When it’s happening, nothing’s ever been so real. But once it stops, he has nothing. He lies on the bed, tugging at his cock like he’s angry at it, and Max is asleep next to him, his lashes are long, and his cock is still wet, and he’s smiling, just a little, and one of his thighs is dwarfing Charles’ leg. Charles sees it. He sees what he wants. From the red lips to the pale ankles. It's right there. He moans, he trashes the bed, he humps the mattress. He can’t do it. He can’t come. He reaches across the middle to touch Max’s jaw and pet the little sweaty hairs glued to the skin on the back of his neck. My man, my man, his brain supplies. Wake up. Give me water.

“Max."

Max lays one hand on Charles’ flat stomach, rubs his thumb into the indents of his hips. His eyes are still closed. He looks so tired, sometimes. “Yes, okay. Sit on me."

Thank you would be beneath them. So, Charles settles on, "More energy" and ignores the entirely unsexy "more passion" that Max adds as Charles folds one leg next to his waist.

[jestersroute66]

this is the life

[vampireprinceal]

[kingvoiddd]

REPOST BC I forgot Crocodile's scar on his face CRIES no wonder it didnt look like him SOBBS

Sorry for the repost yall

Papa Croc introduces Rosette to the squad but Rosette wants Papa Doffy to join in. Croc does NOT, but can't seem to keep his word around the boy.

Buggy clowns on him for making this poor boy upset, Mihawk agrees.

It's not that Crocodile is bad w/ kids. Rosette just likes his dad, Doffy more and Croc cant win with him.

[lanternlightss]

hello!! i have yet another snippet :D! this one is based of one of my au’s, the boy and the whirlwind(s)! the basic premise is that nameless bard not only befriends wispti, but nearly the entirety of the wisp population!

apologies if the formatting is weird!

“May I ask you a question?” Amos says, fiddling with the tip of the arrowhead.

“Of course.”

“You are friends with all of these spirits, correct?” She asks. She does not continue until Cecil nods. “Then, could I inquire about which one is your favorite?”

“Favorite—?” Cecil murmurs, before his eyes widen. He holds his hands up, palms facing Amos, and waves them furiously. “I-I do not have a favorite! I love all of them equally. Swear on my life!”

He is so sincere about it, too. With the light dusting of pink now decorating his face, and how he stammers out his protests, Amos would almost believe that he is telling the truth.

Except…

The wind spirits give him away nigh instantly.

As if they were one in the same, each wind spirit in the room turns to look at the singular spirit sat upon Cecil’s right shoulder.

(This spirit’s name is… Venti, if Amos is remembering correctly.)

Venti themself has puffed their chest out in pride. Wings fluttering happily as Cecil continues to stutter and stammer.

“I see…” She murmurs, expression blank as she tries to hide her amusement. “A shame, then. I think my favorite would be the one on your shoulder.”

Cecil stills, staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes. A small, “huh?”, escapes from his mouth.

Venti, on the other hand, is giving her the dirtiest look she has ever seen on a wind spirit.

Wind spirits have never been known for their possessiveness. In fact, it is quite the opposite—they go where they please, and do what they please. Never once stopping to settle down and choose a favorite.

Yet Cecil went and found himself a wind spirit who would rather bite someone’s hand than pretend to share.

Amos giggles. Pretends to fiddle with the arrow.

“I jest, of course.” She says.

Venti settles back into Cecil’s shoulder with a satisfied coo, while Cecil himself sighs. He holds his hands out, waits for Venti to plop themselves onto them, then brings Venti up to his face. Ever so gently, he presses his nose against the top of the spirit’s head.

“Was it that obvious…?” He laments. “Do I need to do a better job of not showing outward favoritism?”

“The spirits gave you away.”

Cecil moves Venti above his head, then thumps against the table. A few of the spirits who were hovering near him float closer, gently prodding at his figure.

“Of course they did,” he sighs. The spirits tug at his hair.

[unspelld]

m… miku…

[kogetaikid]

Shit

That was meant for today…

[uglygirlstatus]

babe get out the yaoi dinner settings we’ve got company

[littledeadling]

Nervous Reunion

Bonus:

[heartcoric]

these stupid old men

[suguann]

Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 

"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”

The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.

Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.

He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.

"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”

You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.

Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.

His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”

Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.

Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.

Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 

“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”

Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.

“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”

Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.

Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"

You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 

"Ah, fuck—b-but–"

Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 

"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.

Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.

He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."

The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”

Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.

Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.

Masterlist