#messy but here . sighs

[rice-x2]

'we will meet again'

[muwitch]

tender kisses taste of slaughter

[heynhay]

klance but they traded jackets and lance is absolutely clowning on keith’s stupid fucking cropped monstrosity but keith can’t retort because lance’s jacket is so comfortable and it smells like him and and and and—

you guys are good at this hang on

[teenytinyapprentice]

LBMR week: day 5 - substandard

stifled.

[librawritesstuff]

Russell Lewis gets it. And gets us, too 😍

[mrjimmysolidaritygaming]

[fragmentedblade]

I think I've become an official HI3 player. I check the HSR leaks hoping for iterations of HI3 characters now

[tunamayojazz]

my fav flavor of inuokko is older (late 20s-30s) with a lot of regrets and bad memories but who have been together so long and know each other so well that they face all of it head on. there’s a few fics in this vein but i’ve never seen any older inok art!

anon thank you so much for putting older inuokko in my head. it unlocked a new department in my brainrot and i now have so many thoughts about them...

100% agree that older inuokko would have lots of regrets and bad memories, they've experienced all kinds of things in their 20s (and life in general) but it's mostly bad bc lbr the jujutsu world is not pretty and they did not have a kind childhood...but when they're together, it's easy to forget all the bad for just a bit.

one day i'll have a character sheet for both of them (i am very invested in this)! will just post yuta for now bc im struggling with toge haha. thoughts below on how yuta is in his 30s plus some long story rambling bc i cannot be trusted with a keyboard and brainrot...

i'd like to think that yuta grows to be a lot more confident in his skin and becomes the best at looking after his friends as compared to the past when they've had to look out for him and reassure him more. he's not shy or hesitant in his actions at this age and a lot of people around like to say he would have been a great teacher at the school.

at one point (as a 3rd year perhaps) he entertained the thought of becoming a teacher, but the moment he had imagined his students dying, it was an instant no. he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. it's hard enough that he has nightmares of his friends dying/being hurt sometimes. there's been a lot of close calls over the years. at this point of time, he and toge are both freelance sorcerers and no longer under the school, kinda like mei mei and yuki.

will expand on this in the future but it's due to something that happened and had to do with both the inumaki clan and the higher ups that made yuta swear to never return to the school ever again. he actually had to be stopped from destroying the school after shit hit the fan and that's where he got the scars he has now from. sure he could have healed them easily, but he wanted a physical reminder (he never wants to forget what his foolishness could cost him) of sorts. it's one of the events that i would say was significant to his character development.

they move to kyoto shortly after that. i haven't fully thought out toge's story at this point of time but as yuta is maturing and growing into the person he's always wished to become, toge is crumbling. he has a lot of repressed family trauma that he's always been good at locking away in his mind, but after recent events he just broke.

and of course yuta is there for toge, especially when the latter has been his pillar of strength since they became important to each other. unlike the past, he can read when toge needs space or when he needs someone by his side. over the years he's just been able to sense what toge needs like it's something natural to him.

at toge's lowest points, he reminds him of just how loved he is everyday, as much as he can through words and actions. specifically i think yuta is really good at non-sexual intimacy (pls look at the bottom right sketch)!

one thing that has never changed about yuta tho is that he'll still panic over small things like when maki or toge fall sick. for example when he hears from panda that she's down with a cold, he takes the next bullet train back to tokyo as though she's on her deathbed lmao.

overall i think he'd be pretty stable in his 30s but also it wouldn't take much to make him spiral and lose it ^^

[nia-academia]

reminder to not let myself be washed away, to stand my ground even when it seems much easier to just let go, to stay firm in what i believe and to never feel small because everything else seems bigger.

reminder to never again live passively.

[alliaskisthepossibilityoflove]

.

[ghoul-haunted]

this is a normal thing to do at a wake

[rhysandrefm]

vinnie   hacker.     he , him , his.     cis   man.      ›      spotted   at   the   met   steps   ,   rhysandre   da   vinci   ,   most   likely   listening   to   the   spins   by    mac   miller   with   their   airpods   pro   .   the   twenty3   year   old   gained   quite   a   reputation   ,   known   to   be   -contentious   yet   +sharp - witted   to   anyone   who   knows   them   .   you'll   easily   spot   them   when   you   hear   about   gold   -   capped   fangs   bared   by   a   devilish   grin   ,   a   bruised   and   battered   hellion   volunteering   himself   to   be   the   center   of   all   chaos   ,   smirks   of   amusement   with   a   bloodied   nose   ,   hiding   a   tender   heart   behind   scathing   hatred   ,   followed   by   soleil   brulant   by   tom   ford    .   latest   nepoupdates   article   talks   about   jackass   star   rhys   da   vinci   personally   banned   by   elon   musk   from   future   tesla   purchases   after   crashing   model   x   and   calling   the   cars   “ pussy - ass   shitmobiles   invented   by   the   head   cuck   of   zuckerberg   himself .   ”   ,   but   i   guess   any   reputation   is   good   reputation   .   (   felix   ,   25   ,   she / her   ,   pst   .   )

*   𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙨 .

𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 :   rhysandre ' rhys ' milos da vinci .

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘺 :   cis man utilizing he him .

𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 : born in italy , dual citizenship with the us .

𝘢𝘨𝘦 : twenty3

𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 : star of american stunt tv show ' jackass ' and social media influencer

𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘦 : initially the black sheep of the da vinci luxury jewlery empire , until upon his penultimate expulsion from high school , his online pranks caught the attention of mtv , recruiting him to the jackass team which propelled him into the public eye . also known for causing hell with his sardonic responses , publicly cheating on most partners he's ever had , and a laundry list of arrests .

𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 : ( + ) intense , maverick , vigilant , sharp - witted . ( - ) self - loathing , pessimistic , contentious , unserious .

𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 : pete davidson . warren peace from sky high . spike from buffy . lip from shameless .

*   𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 .

the youngest of three , rhysandre is born in milan to old money roots . both parents deep in a luxury jewelry empire , rhys grew up as the definition of silver spoon . though he benefitted from it , a passion for old rock and an interest in the dirty underbelly of humanity made him yearn for more . his heroes , all dirty grunge stars or skateboarders , continued to pull him away from the golden boy persona his parents would have greatly preferred , eventually his knack for counter culture causing him to act out in school .

despite getting practically everything handed to him , rhys was resentful and bitter , internalizing his differences and deciding he'd never be good enough for anyone . his hostility developed as a mechanism to cope and defend , his reputation growing with each suspension or new rumor floating around his circle of things his parents would chastise him for . but considering the only time they spent more than 3 minutes with him was when they were reprimanding him , what motivation did he have to stop ?

after mtv spotted one of his skateboarding stunts online going viral , jackass changed everything for him . he was in the public eye on his own accord , the daredevil pretty boy with a 'fuck the world' mentality . each critique that he was just a rich boy trying to play dress up pushed him further to do more dangerous things , to try and build a new legacy for himself of chaos , and risk his wellbeing in the process of it .

* 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣⠀.

as a result , rhys is known as the anger - prone former class clown who doesn't seem to meaningfully care about anything . perhaps deep beneath this surface , he'd some day admit the fear of never accomplishing anything meaningful , but for now , his only coping strategy is to be a pessimist and instead set fire to the world around him . loyal in friendships but self - sabotaging in almost all else , these intense emotions are often cause for identifying rhys as the #1 target of the ' i can fix him ' mindset , despite constant proof that the hellion cannot be fixed !

[sealmaiden2000]

i NEVER have the thing where you meet someone and immediately click and start spending all your time together and then start sleeping together and then it turns into a whirlwind fling it simply never happens to me. except for right now apparently! what a novelty

[merriclo]

@majoraspades you asked for wip #17 so here ya go!! this one’s abt two Links from my au: Lorule and Oracle. they’re having a talk abt trans stuff. it doesn’t escape me that this is the first bit of writing that y’all are getting abt these guys which is kind of crazy, but eh ahsjkds it’s whatever here y’all go <3

context y’all might need: Oracle is a trans man, but he’s closeted and only out to Lorule, who’s genderfluid. Lo and Ravio are married for “tax benefits.” Oracle lives at the castle with his Zelda and acts as her lady-in-waiting, guard, advisor, etc. Basically they’re just really good friends who are kind of attached at the hip and find every way to spend more time together.

content warnings: very brief/vague descriptions of pain and injuries, dealing with dysphoria

…

Lorule shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore how the medical gauze rumpled under his ribs, or how his sweat-slicked bangs stuck to his forehead, or how horrible he looked.

He was happy to be home, at least. Hylia had been nice enough to set the portal’s opening to right in front of his house after he got halfway mauled by a bokoblin.

Okay, so he was being a bit dramatic. The wounds weren’t horrible (he hadn’t even needed stitches,) but they were bad enough that Wild had sentenced him to the couch, and his head cold only prolonged his stay.

Sighing, Lorule glanced over at Oracle who was stationed in the green armchair, all curled up with a book in his lap. When Wild asked for someone to stay and watch over the ill, he was the first to volunteer, to the surprise of several. Lorule wasn’t sure if he was actually worried about him, or if he just walked to sit down for a while.

Lorule watch them as they fiddled with a ribbon and bit his cheek absentmindedly. The older hero grimaced.

“Stop chewing up you’re cheek,” he said, voice too hoarse to be properly demanding.

Oracle’s eyes snapped up, filling with a familiar snark as they stared at him through their eyelashes. “Not even bleeding out will stop you from fretting, huh?”

Lorule huffed and tucked some hair behind their ear. “I am not bleeding out.”

“Anymore.”

He shot him a glare, though the mix of pain and sickness made it a lot harder to be mad. “The moment Wild gets back, I’m telling them to scold you for chewing again.”

“And I’ll tell them to scold you for not relaxing!”

“I am relaxing!”

Now it was Oracle’s turn to glare at him, though his had much more edge than Lorule’s did. “Liar.”

He scoffed and suddenly became very interested in both the wood and avoiding the wizard’s harsh gaze at all costs. Oracle didn’t make eye contact often, but when they did it was sharp enough to cut, especially when they were right about something.

And, annoyingly, they were definitely right. Lorule had yet to fully lay down or let their hair loose or even change into something more comfortable. It was a miracle Oracle was able to get him to take his binder off, though Lorule’s compliance was more out of fear of Ravio than Oracle. His husband wouldn’t be too happy catching him breaking house rule #7: no binding when badly wounded.

“Just stop chewing your cheek.”

Lorule looked back up at them and, sure enough, they had stopped gnawing at their cheek. He noticed for a moment how long their hair was, even if it was pulled back in the worlds shittiest ponytail.

“Who taught you how to do your hair?” he asked before he could stop himself. Had they not been both ill and injured they would’ve tried to have a little more class, though when they saw Oracle go rigid they regretted saying anything at all.

“Uhm… I did.” their voice got quiet, replacing any spunk they had before with defensiveness. “Why?”

A pang of guilt hit Lorule’s stomach, right next to the scratches in his flesh. He shifted again, and some of hair fell loose from behind his hair. “Oh, well, it just looks a little uncomfortable,” he floundered, trying to justify his words and make them less bitter. He really had to stop prying into other people’s sense of style, even if it really did look uncomfortable.

Oracle’s shoulders loosened a bit and he tilted his head up, looking in Lo’s direction but not quite at him. “Does it?”

Oh, thank Hylia, it worked. He didn’t offend him.

Lorule cleared his throat nervously, then winced at how it accentuated the burning from the nasal drainage. “Yeah, does it pull at your hair?”

He nodded.

“I can help fix that! Here, c’mere.” Lorule patted the cushion next to him, pulling their legs off of it as much as they could without any pain. Oracle obliged, albeit a bit reluctantly. Their position must’ve been comfortable despite how unbearable it looked. That, or they were hesitant to let a sick person do their hair.

Lorule repositioned themself again and loosened the blue ribbon in Oracle’s hair. It was sweet how he wore his Zelda’s favorite color so often, they really were adorably close. Oracle’s hair slipped from its confinement, falling against his back in a long, pink curtain.

Seeing it up close, Lorule finally understood just how fucked up the kid’s hair was. Didn’t he work in castle? Surely, his Zelda wouldn’t allow her right hand man to go around with such a scraggly haircut?

He had to bite his tongue to stop from asking. Really, he had to get his nose out of other people’s business. He remembered so clearly how it felt to be torn to shreds in Hytopia. It was horrible, no matter how justified it was. He had no right to put someone else through that, didn’t want to put someone else through that.

Oracle shifted under Lorule’s hands as he combed his fingers through his hair. To Lorule’s surprise, there weren’t that many knots, and the ones that were there were relatively easy to break through. It felt healthy and had a good sheen, too. Lorule smiled to themself. Even if the kid had no clue how to style it, at least they knew how to care for it.

Oracle couldn’t help but be a bit sheepish under the attention. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the sensation. They would never admit to that, though. Never. It didn’t matter if he’d already been embarrassingly vulnerable with the other hero on numerous occasions, some secrets were best taken to the grave.

He wasn’t very good at doing that, however, and the way he melted under the touch Lorule everything. Thankfully, he let it go unmentioned in favor of a different topic.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Lorule said as they worked through the knots, “why do you keep your hair tied back if it pulls?” They couldn’t help but push into their style choices just a bit. But, he wasn’t as crude this time and it was a legitimate question!

Oracle was silent for a few moments, formulating their words as the other hero’s gentle hands continued card through their hair. He mulled over his words for so long that Lorule realized they’d stepped into a sensitive zone yet again. Godsdammit.

“You don’t have to ans—“

“No!” Oracle snapped, body tensing up as they interrupted. They took a breath and tried to relax their shoulders. “No, it’s fine. You can know. It’s just… hard to word…”

Oracle’s tone made everything click. Lorule had only ever heard that tone twice before: when he’d found them sobbing by the lake and when he’d caught them looking jealously at a shirtless Spirit.

Shit. This was a trans thing.

Fucking of course it was. A frown weighed against Lorule’s brow as he realized just how deeply the cold and injuries were screwing up his critical thinking. He really wasn’t in the right state of mind to handle a talk like this, but, like an idiot, he’d already pushed too far and now he had to commit.

His voice was tentative, but croaked on certain vowels.

“You… don’t like having long hair, do you?”

Silence sat between them, and the only response Lorule got was a slight shake of the head.

He bit his lip as he looked down at the hair gathered in his hands. There sure was a lot and it all went down to the boy’s hips.

Another pang of guilt settled into Lorule’s stomach, wrapping its way around his ribs and clawing at his organs. How had he not realized how dysphoric that must’ve been sooner? Not everyone was able to be okay with having long hair like he was.

Another beat of silence, then: “Do you want to cut it?”

“What?”

He was about to die from how small and tender Oracle’s voice was.

“Do you want to cut it?”

In the quiet between them, Lorule remembered exactly why Oracle had come out to only them. “The people of my Hyrule… they’re… not as accepting at this group. I don’t want to risk any slip ups or suspicion,” they had explained, swearing Lorule into secrecy after he’d accidentally found out.

“We can lie. Say it got cut during a battle.” Oracle didn’t respond, and the older hero resigned themself to doing something they never thought they would. “I can make it choppy and uneven so it’ll be more convincing.”

“… What about the rest of the group? They’d know it’s a lie.”

“We don’t have to do it right now. We could wait until we’re back on the road, find an excuse to leave, and come back claiming we ran into a few ‘blins.”

The wizard shifted in his seat and let out a shaky inhale. “… You’d really help me do that?” The poor kid’s voice was cracking and it was obvious he was fighting back tears.

[basofy]

idk whats with me lately have whatever all of these are

yes

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, fıngering, praise, talking you through it, squırting, dirty talk, mdni.

“don’t be shy, sweetheart. get it wet, atta girl,”

nanami would murmur right up against your ear, warm breath fanning against the shell of your earlobe. it tickles, and as you’re laid flat back against him with a few fawn strands of his chest hair brushing up near you, you whine. your legs were unapologetically spread wide open with a bundle of your toes curling up exquisitely. the back of your head rubs and rubs against his bare chest, and he’s got the softest smile. “ah ah,” he whispers, watching as your own crumped up finger buries itself into your cunt and lazily moves around. “remember the method i taught you. circle it around, yeah,” and your breathing hitches the moment the tip of your digit encircle a slippery swab of your sheeny slick. “here, let me take it from here for a bit.”

with your laced panties pulled back near the crevices of your thigh, you collapse flat against his chest. his warmth, a single moan escapes from your lips at how close he was to you. his scent, nanami’s cologne engulfs in your nostrils and it’s such a rich, citrusy aroma. “o- okay.” was all you could manage to whimper out, feeling the cold band of his g-shock ghost against your thigh.

“it’s gonna get messy, my love,” he warns you, a bit of humor in his tone — you throb, two fingers of his smear against your drooling heat and your mouth slowly dangles open. “ooh, my oh my. she’s quite the talker today huh,” he hums at the sounds of your weeping cunt - sloshing and creating various laments of squelches from his consistent rubbing before you whine. “let’s hear what she’s got to say, hm?”

“f- fuuuck.” you’d mewl out, feeling him slowly ease a finger inside of your slit. by this point, he’d taken out your finger and replaced it with his own. nanami’s pointed chin rests against your shoulder as he watches intently.

even your colorful swears sounded angelic. behind you, you could feel his dick twitch in his boxers at just the sound of your voice. already, you were soaked heavily. nanami felt like being a bit of a tease tonight though.

with one hand focusing its attention between your thighs - another creates a tantalizingly slow, trail up and down your body. his fingertips dance against your skin as he glances at you jerking and shuddering. all from his touch, he wanted to make sure to savor your body.

in a way, you were like art to him, a breathtaking canvas that was forevermore priceless.

“gimme your hand, my love,” he requests, lukewarm plush lips pressing a chaste kiss near the inside of your neck. a breeze of his minty fresh breath sets against your sinuses before you comply. as he takes ahold of your wrist, nanami makes you start a trail of your own. gradually, he’s dragging your arm further down your body, making sure your fingers get a feel of every single part of you. “nice ‘n slow, good. doin’ so good.”

a breathy pant starts to rip out of you, hauling out of your lungs abruptly and you’re panting like a dog - he’s so gentle, his words only added more fuel to the fire before you feel the brief pangs of heat between your legs intensify.

nanami’s thick finger turns into two and you let off a melodic whimper as he’s stretching your pussy open. “open for me baby, focus on those breaths,” and as you’re just sluggishly pressed up against his chest, he gives your you another kiss. this time, it’s near the top of your head. “my good girl.” he purrs, voice raspy and filthy—pouring with nothing but admirable love and affection.

it was as if a feverish, fire was bristling against your skin. it was subtle, real subtle. you sigh deeply at his two fingers leisurely prod their way inside of your accepting, gummy walls. “k- ken,” you whine out, hearing the lewd sloshing sounds of your own arousal. it’s wet, you’re wet. nanami’s still guiding you to touch yourself in a way that makes your perked nipples throb. a gentle hand firmly but sweetly grabs your wrist, having you feel right near your heaving chest. your breaths were shallow, short brief inhales coming out of you before your eyes start to roll and flicker back. “your fingers, ‘s long, ken.”

“oh, are they now?” he utters, a tender grip compressing against his pink glossed lips. “i’d hope so, they’re just the right size for my wife, are they not?”

by the second, you could feel yourself coming close. you could feel yourself reaching your inevitable, destined peak. “c’mon, big girl words. talk to me,” he shushes your sweet, babbling moans. you were speaking a good sentence of gibberish—inaudible whimpers mewling out your throat at each millisecond that passes. you’re squirming a bit in pleasure, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, creating a bite. nanami then slides his slender fingers out so you could do the rest. you whine, trying to copy his method. your digits slickly coat and drip against the outer part of your cunt before sliding your fingers in. huffing, you feel a pulsating pulse near your aching labia. “how’s it make you feel, sweetheart. feel good?”

“feels good, ‘ken,” you puff out a single exhale in dry, irregular breaths. you felt your own slick stick against your pried open legs like glue. it was a mess indeed, and before you knew it, you were right there. “kento, finish for me, please p-pleaseee.”

“but my love,” he hums a dulcet tune against your ear, your thigh tapping and tapping in anticipation. it’s a salty taste pouring into your mouth but as the seconds progress, it’s turns sweet,

bittersweet.

the filthy, moist squelches became so loud that it starts to echo through the thin walls of your cozy, homey residence. “you’re supposed to be doin’ this, not me. ‘m just showing you how.”

letting off a near pornographic moan—you were cut off the minute your fingers thrash against your g-spot. your noises made him hard, so whiny and pleasing to the human ear. once you feel the twitching muscle, it’s soft and hollow with a squishy surface, scratching such an orgasmic itch in your brain. you could barely even form words with how dumb you were right now. “right there ‘ken. i feel something.”

“keep feeling there, baby. ‘s okay,” he holds you from behind, feeling your body continue to slump back against his chest. your legs vigorously shake like an earthquake - its intensity was jittering you to your wits end. with two eager fingers swirling around the insides of your needy cunt, your jaw drops. a pocket seed of ecstasy welts and surges all through you. as he grabs your wrist again, nanami’s helping you finger yourself with your entire wrist — helping you do a bowling ball grip with two fingers. two stuffed inside, the others just being idle. it felt so good, you weren’t gonna last a second longer by this point. “you’re so close, sweetheart. use those pretty fingers, mhm. so close, make a mess on me, make a mess on your husband so i can clear you right up.”

a pitched ringing sound goes in your ears and right back out. as you’re zealously twitching from the touch, the stimulation, you let off yet another long, pitched moan. it’s a lengthy moan, nowhere near short.

you elongate a single syllable and lasts it for a good four seconds until you realize you’re cumming. one wave comes, then two, then three until everything’s all crashing down on you.

“k- kento,” you whimper, feeling your digits tangle up inside and get soaked from top to bottom with your honeyed slick. but it doesn’t stop there, in fact, once you look down, not only were you coming undone but you were also gushing out. it sprays, a translucent splashing tint dampens against the satin ruby sheets and nanami simpers. “oh my g- goddd.”

he feels your soddened rapture pouring all out, electricity like currents traversing all throughout your body and you grow limp. “aw,” he speaks first, seeing how your climax took everything out of you. nanami brings a hand down between your legs, a thumb swiping against your swollen cunt before he smears your juices right on your entrance. “my messy girl, did you just squirt on me?”

you don’t reply—your breathy, shaky moans being your answer and a hand of yours squeezes his wrist. it’s so many nerves, a bundle of them being touched and convulsed strike right within you before he kisses the top of your head. “seems like my wifey’s a little squirter after all,” he purrs once more, his voice as smooth as silk. as nanami slowly makes you pull out your filth covered fingers, a cobwebby string of lustrous gloss runs off from the tips of your fingers. “look at this,” he grabs your wrist, holding it up in front of you before he does what you’d last expect.

nanami gingerly wraps a hand around your wrist, inching it toward his face before he pops two of your slippery slick digits into his mouth. he groans at your cherry sweet taste - making sure to savor and relish the toothsome flavor before his tongue curls around your fingers.

“mhm,” and as he’s sucking on your digits to clean them just like he said, you could feel yourself throbbing again. once nanami finally removes his mouth from your two wet fingers, he lowly chuckles against your ear. “such a good girl,” he praises you one last time before getting his own fingers wet, wiping them both near your sopping clit. “let’s do that again. now spread these gorgeous legs wide again for me, my love. gotta get my wife just a little bit wetter.”