#brain melter

[auraeseer]

. . . just as effective in liquid form.

[columboscreens]

[boonesfarmsangria]

via daveokumu gram

Yannis backstage @ Crammerock 2024

[canine-teethed-sheets]

songs to instantly melt your brain into nothing

pork soda by glass animals

pork soda by glass animals

po

[pibafish]

a whole bunch of doodley kay content below!! credit for the kitty critter in the first pic: @b0o-berry

oh yeah and deeno in the last pic too

[scourgebrother]

why is it frowned upon the respond to your supervisor w 'kys'. what if they are being annoying and stupid

[gargledmesh]

Eaten Alive: A Tasteful Revenge (1999) A little poster I drew up for the WAVE Productions SOV classic. Revised a bit from an older design I did for a zine that never went anywhere. Available in store: http://gargledmesh.storenvy.com

[littledeadling]

Oh SHIT this new version of my old song Mellifluous is easily one of my favourite songs I’ve ever put together. WOW. I’m in awe tbh 😵‍💫 (make art for urself..u will be so happy)

[vinnie2757]

Throwing Clint under the bus like he wouldn't be the first one on board to keep the baby safe fuck off out of it

[housewifeswag2]

my perfect. brain. melters. ✨

[miscling]

Oooh, kink rating time :3

How about, overstim and omorashi? Cos I don't think I've seen you rate these two :3

here we gooooo!

overstim [Yes] is a hard one because i have such a hard time cumming like a mix of it needing a lot of work to get me off, and how weakly i cum, and all the edging conditioning kinda means i struggle a lot to cum once, let alone a few times. overstim with hypno orgasms works really well though, though it's a different thing to being phsyically overstimulated.

omorashi [FUCK yes] is fun. i love the control aspects of it, and letting someone else control whether or not i'm allowed to go or not. getting desperate and having to ask for permission is a brain-melter of a situation for me. there's a lot to it, and like, mixing it with diapers and forced wetting could be a lot of fun in the right situation too. it's not something i'd think to do just on my own, but being controlled in this way is a lot of fun.

thank you for the kinks to rate! ^^

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Who do you think is going to kiss you stupid? Like who’s gonna just completely take over your senses and your brain when you’re making out to the point where you malfunction

soz i know you sent this in a hundred years ago but i HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT and I've thought it through and here are my top 10 characters that I write for that I think will kiss you stupid

10. Art Donaldson

He's almost more of an honorable mention because I don't think he will kiss you stupid per se? But I think you could kiss him stupid. Someone would be kissed stupid in this equation.

9. Indiana Jones

It's going to be a sweeping, Gone-With-the-Wind-esque-not-quite-dipping-you-but-by-the-time-you-both-come-up-for-air-your-head-will-be-spinning kind of kiss. I don't think this'll happen with an I'll see you later, it'll happen with an I thought you were dead or a we shouldn't have made it out alive

8. George Russell

Our robber baron is a smoochy smoochy man. He loves little kisses, little pecks, but...I don't know, I'm just thinking about wedding night George Russell. Trying to be gentle with you but overwhelmed by your forwardness and open want for him. Grasping your jaw and directing your head as he wants it, finally able to express his interest and passion.

7. Oberyn Martell

As if it's a shock that the most prolific lover in the seven kingdoms is also an A+ kisser. You expect him to just dive right in and ignore the foreplay, but he takes it far slower than you expect. One kiss is going to leave you wanting more—and he's going to leave you hanging. He's going to see how stupefied you are by a kiss or two, and grin. Maybe he'll give your jaw a little squeeze, and tease,

"If you're this worked up from a kiss, imagine what my lips can do elsewhere."

6. Patrick Zweig

There's a reason this flirty little fuck is always able to find someone to let him crash at their place. He's just charming. He's hot. His kisses are consuming. When you're pissed at him, if he gets close enough to lay a kiss or two on you, you're going to forget what you were fighting about in the first place.

5. James Bond

For as salacious as honey pot missions are, there's something almost innocent about being able to just kiss you. It doesn't mean that it won't lead to anything more, but it's an indulgence for James. Lazy mornings are just as much of a luxury. If you can be talked into staying in bed, into trading just a kiss or two before he lulls you into deepening it...

4. Poe Dameron

I mean...Look at him. He already watches you like you hung the stars in the sky, so when he kisses you? He's making sure you feel everything that he feels for you—all of his wants, all of his desires for you when you've been apart and away.

3. Matt Murdock

Mr. "Alright, I'm Gonna Kiss Ya" is going to know the way you like to kiss so thoroughly, so well. He's going to know what nip, suck, lick makes your pulse rate and your heart pound.

2. Nathan Bateman

This man doesn't just fuck his robots, he makes out with them. Dude's a smoocher. There's almost no evidence of it, but I like the idea of Nathan having an oral fixation. I think he sees himself as the sort to master those little parts of himself—to know himself well enough to insist that, sexuality is fun, man, and flagrantly indulge in what he likes because he knows himself.

I think making out with Nathan is intimate. I think it's earned. It's something that he does with someone he really trusts, is really with. And he's always working so much that having enough time to make out with him is a treat—for both of you.

1. Frank Castle

I feel....Like I don't really have to explain I mean

He's a brain melter. The tongue? The hand placement? Someone's going to need to scrape you off of the wall after kissing this man.

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 3

Children of the Omnissiah from Warhammer 40000: Mechanicus

vs.

Drawcia Soul from Kirby: Canvas Curse (warning for flashing at the beginning of the video!)

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Children of the Omnissiah:

Don't know about propaganda, but according to my Spotify wrapped I averaged 1.2 listens of the song per day during 2023, and I only discovered it in like, April so. Good song.

I legit walked down the aisle to this song at my wedding, that’s how good it is to me.

That song LITERALLY got me into Warhammer 40k.

it was literally the song that got me into WH40k as a whole and got me attached to the AdMech in particular. Which led up to my falling in love with a particular character from said faction (yes, really! I'm a selfshipper and apparently my type is cyborg men in red). It's genuinely boosted my mental health; I am so, so, so grateful to have stumbled upon the meme video that featured a clip not even 10 seconds long alongside dozens of other game's osts. Changer of my brain chemistry fr

I have synesthesia and I feel sounds as temperatures, and this song feels like being shoved into a walk in freezer. The god damn bass drop is so bloody cold I legitimately start shivering. This song GENUINELY messes with my brain chemistry it is so good. I do feel temperatures from other songs but this is by far the most extreme. Song is so good I can literally feel it in my bones.

Drawcia Soul:

I see Drawcia Soul I reblog Btw if anyone's curious, the art in the video is not fan made, it was made by the series director Shinya Kumazaki. (And this was one of the first Kirby games he worked on too!) Also fun bonus fact this track was reused for Star Allie's true arena (Soul Melter EX) as one of the themes for the rest area, which confused the composer. (Should've been called the stressed area *badum tsh*) Also this song has a jazz remix

[schistastic]

I didn't really expect too much when I modded Gort into my evil playthrough but man there have been some hilarious (delusional) situations so far thanks to the companion facial expressions.

So Lae stops us in the middle of the forest to tell us how much Durge makes her neck sweat, and for the entire VERY awkward convo Gorty is center screen watching them both with this shit eating grin:

Lae please girl can we do this in private...

Fast forward several hours later and I'm thinking the previous situation has blown over, no hard feelings right? Unfortunately, Lae gets herself strapped to the Brain-Melter-5000 Machine.

While Durge is off having yet another tadpole crisis, both of the mad scientists who have a passion for unethical brain experiments are smiling and having the time of their lives.

I guess he didn't forget about the neck sweat comment after all... (who programmed this companion expression lmao damn, don't worry Lae I'll get you outta there).

[daryascurse]

𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖 𝙁𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 - 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙆𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙞𝙣 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

4/20 Oral Fixation miniseries [Sativa Flower][Indica Candy]

ɴꜱꜰᴡ | ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ

pov : second person, AFAB reader, nongendered pronouns, modern AU w/ no titans ⁕ tags: weed smoking, face riding, oraI, (female receiving), light spanking ⁕ word count: ~2.0k ⁕ ao3 link ⁕

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

The two of you hunched over the windowsill, Jean Kirstein laughing at your paranoia over setting off the smoke detector, but he agreed to aim his lips through to the open air as much as possible. His words chewed the fumes, the air drawing hazy haloes around his head as he grimaced at the taste.

“Get better pre-rolls next time,” he said.

“You bought these,” you shot back.

“Freeloader,” Jean said in a drawl, and your laugh was toothy.

It already felt like a curtain was drawn between your eyes and your mind, like your brain was sitting heavier in your skull. You blinked, missing what Jean said as he stood up and kissed the top of your head. He walked out of the room and you mumbled something unintelligible in response. You flipped the little yellow lighter in your hands and ran your fingers over the groove of the safety strip. You wondered if the tweezers were close, and thought about pulling it out of the lighter.

-

You plug in the wax melter and a twinge of rose begins to wisp through the air to thin out the earthy musk of the joint. Opening the window in the bedroom hadn’t been enough to clear the smell, even if you and Jean had smoked through the corner of the torn screen.

“No one’s going to care,” Jean says from where he’s gone into the kitchen. You stick your tongue out from behind the corner, and hit “shuffle” on your liked songs. “Like I said, your neighbors probably aren’t even home.”

“Still smells better,” you say, sliding your phone into your pocket. “Pancake” by JADED and Ashnikko spurts up into the hallway.

The air is milky as you move your arms through it, slowly dancing in jerks to the beat as you make your way into the kitchen. Jean’s laughing at you as he packs lunches for the park, and he’s asking if you want to Uber or take the train down.

“It’s so nice out,” you say. “Let’s walk.”

“Do we have any more pre-rolls?”

Static crackles in your bones as you rub your hands together and sway your hips by the counter. Jean tosses his head, hair cool brown the color of mushrooms sliding across his forehead as he turns to look at you. He’s still smiling as he leans in to kiss you. His hands are still busy with the Tupperware, pre-cut sandwiches getting neatly tucked into a little plastic bed.

“I can get the bag ready if you finish packing the food,” you say when the kiss breaks, and smile lazily at him in turn.

“I put it on the table,” Jean says with a shrug of his head in the other direction. Unfinished coffee mugs encircle the remnants of the wake-and-bake preparation on the kitchen table, an ashtray like a half-opened orange littered with burnt herb between them. You unzip the little black crossbody bag and yank a chair closer to you as you examine the contents.

“We have two unfinished joints,” you say when you sit and rifle through. Your raise the glass tubes over your shoulder and clink them together. “From the dispensary by your place.”

“Not a bad start to the day.”

“Yeah. Um. When are we meeting Connie and Sasha?” you ask.

“They’re coming out in the afternoon,” Jean says, and you hear rustling in the cabinet. “But, I mean, we don’t have to share.”

“Are you packing enough snacks?”

Jean sighs. “There’ll never be enough snacks to share with them,” he says.

“Bring the crackers and spinach dip,” you say. You take a little packet of paper and a jar of flower out of the bag.

“I don’t like the spinach dip,” Jean grumbles.

“Yeah. Then that’s what we offer to share,” you say with a laugh, and crinkle the rolling paper. “I guess I’ll roll two more.”

“Do we have enough flower?”

You nod, but the motion feels slow, like the oxygen is getting thicker around you. “Yeah,” you repeat.

It takes all your concentration to get your fingers together, and you take your phone out of your pocket to turn the music down a little. Your eyes are big and bright in the reflection, the whites shining. You smile at yourself.

“Here,” Jean says, and you feel the reverberations around the room as he pads across the hardwood to you. You pluck an iced sugar cookie from the offered Ziplock bag.

“Thanks, but I have to focus on this,” you say around the first crisp, sweet bite, and turn your chin up to him. Jean puts the cookie bag on the table and his lips twitch in a smirk as he reaches out to you.

“Have to?” he mocks.

“Yes,” you say with a dramatic insistence.

“Goofy. Is it starting to hit?”

“Are you feeling it now, Mr. Krabs?” you joke back.

His hand is cold, the trail of his fingers a ghost across your face and down the bone of your jaw. Your neck aches in the tilt, and Jean leans down, kisses you again. His lips are cold too, his mouth fresh with what must have been a recent sip of water. His hands are now on your thighs, something so anchoring even as his arms tremble as he exerts his own pressure. It’s his eagerness, his mischief, pushing to the forefront while the rest of the world blurs.

It occurs to you that “Ladders” by Mac Miller has started playing at some point.

Jean drops into a crouch, the motion sharp before your eyes even as the room around begins to fuzz in the periphery. His fingers curl into your legs as he kneels between them, kisses landing now clumsily and heavily on your legs, and you shift your hips in the chair. Your own fingers crush, the cookie falling to crumbs and dancing off the edge of the table.

“Jean, I really can’t roll a joint if -”

“That’s okay,” he interrupts.

You giggle, the sound light and high, and you do it again. “You wanna do it for me?”

“I wanna do something else for you,” Jean says, and his voice has gotten softer, naughty, the cooing grin audible in his words. Your eyes meet and you wonder if yours glitter the same way his shine in the daylight streaming through the window. “No rush, right?”

“It can… wait,” you say slowly. The words feel thick and dumb.

You lift your hips and help him as much as you can – let him – roll your waistband, your panties, down off your legs. The pressure feels light beneath your skin, something just starting to build, something that makes you heavy in the chair. His fingers come to light again on your thighs, tracing so daintily they almost tickle, and you squirm at the teasing. The squirming brings you closer to the edge of the chair.

He sighs, and it’s a ghost in the air.

Jean puts his mouth on your cunt and it draws from you the very pleasure that was beginning to seep into your blood, something that sings as the warmth flushes through you. The prickles of his facial hair almost make your legs twitch as it tickles. Your wrists tense and then you’re reaching, too, groping for his hair in a haze and clutching it as his tongue flicks up.

“Fuck, Jean – ”

You’re holding on desperately already, holding to him as your hips move in clumsy circles against the chair.

“Oh – ”

His head is warm to the touch as his shoulders edge your thighs farther apart. He pushes his tongue into you with a sigh that makes you shiver. He kissesat your cunt, open-mouthed and wet. His fingers are beginning to feel hard on your thighs, a deep sensation that feels almost separate from the mere pressure on your skin.

Jean breaks from you for a moment.

“Tastes good,” he rasps, and when you look down with hazy eyes, a line of gossamer slick connects his mouth to you.

“O-oh,” you whimper.

Jean begins to run his tongue along you, down, fat, before dragging it back up. You writhe and flush and almost howl when he gives a lick to the sensitive nub of your clit.

“Fuck!”

He kisses you there.

You begin forcing your pace on him as he moves faster and faster to match you. Your hands are knit in his hair, grabbing whatever you can of him with limbs of syrup. He makes a sound between his teeth that could be pained, that could be guttural arousal as his hands tighten and split your legs wider on the chair.

Jean eats you out with a hunger, his tongue fucking into you as his shoulder slips under one of your trembling thighs. Your elbows slack and tighten, the blood heavy in your feet, in your hands. You can feel the noises he keeps making, the moans so clearly now of desire and delight.

You find yourself shuddering, find the way you shake into his face growing more and more desperate, almost fucking into his mouth off the chair. Your leg muscles are tight, and the muscles below your hips are taunt. Jean stays with your pace, his tongue so eager to lap up every bit of the heat flooding from you.

“Ah- ah – Jean – ”

Your skin is wet, hot. You curl into him, tugging at his hair.

“Jean, I’m coming – ”

And he gasps eager, muffled “oh”s into you in turn, his fingers wrapping up, around, hands eager to grab and clutch you close. He moans, tongue fervent even as your hips freeze in a shaking lock, swallowing it away.

“You – fuck,” he groans.

You whimper something that could be his name.

“You came a lot,” Jean says. He kisses the side of your thigh as you keen in response, exhaling sharply as you unknot from his body. You shudder into the chair, breathing in and out deeply again, awkwardly slumped.

“Fuck,” you say, and catch your breath at last.

He’s smirking again, and his mouth is wet. You lean in and feel the ache rise from the arch your back was curled in. You plant your hands on your trembling thighs to kiss his lips. The taste of you is light on your tongue, yet it floods your mouth. You’re turning your tongue as you sit back, even as Jean slides your panties back up your knees.

“Get up,” he says with a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll finish rolling them.”

You lurch up, awkwardly tugging your panties over your hips. Things are blinking into a coldish clarity more and more, and you feel the chill. “You sure? I can get the rest of the food and blankets out.”

“Don’t you wanna change your pants too?” Jean says, and his eyes rake over your body with a cheerful gleam. His tongue pokes between his teeth, and he slaps your ass. You yelp in mock alarm, twisting your hips and putting your hands up as a poor shield. But you’re giggling together and you tilt your hips to the side, letting him land another playful swat.

“I’ll be fast,” you say. Jean makes a yeah-yeah sort of noise and waggles his head. He lifts your phone over his shoulder, and you press your thumb into it as you take it and go. “Lil Thing” by Knox Fortune chimes happily with you as you weave through the kitchen on weak legs.

There’s a lemon lollipop on the counter. You twist at the paper to peel the wrapper off as you duck into the bedroom, and it feels stiff in your fingers. Maybe you two can light one of the joints again before leaving.

-

Under the sun in the park you will smoke more, and Sasha will ask if she can have a bite of your sandwich. Connie will be blasting “Heaven” by Los Lonely Boys. Jean will give you a narrow-eyed look but you will rip the gooey bread in half and hand it to her. Connie will inhale too harshly and cough the smoke out of his lungs; and the wind will smack it right into Jean’s face. You will laugh so hard your stomach hurts and the food almost lurches a little. Jean won’t be able to told the smile back when he hears you. And the two of you will be gleefully happy.

fin.