#but see the worms…

[codename-adler]

in all drafts but canon, Jean Moreau dies; in all versions of this story, Kevin loses Jean.

even now, Kevin has lost so much of Jean, and it’s uncertain how much more of him he will lose.

when Kevin fled the Nest, Jean thought he’d truly lost him; but really, it’s Kevin who lost Jean then.

i’m asking you: what happened in the universes where Jean lost Kevin?

make me regret this.

[home-of-the-squirmle]

Oh how you are loved

[worm-on-a-blog]

hey! take it easy soon, if you can. 

[forgetful-nerd]

We've all talked about Leo and his affinity with being thrown through windows, but has anyone else notice how frequently Raph get eye trauma?

[wormzandgutz]

redraw of my Spideypool from May

[meat-fr]

"they're not graceful", "they're not elegant", "They're not angelic"

-and i took that personally (as a challenge!)

[runwhileyoucan]

This image came to me in a vision by the way.

[dragondawdles]

the beastie <3

[heartorbit]

find another role, carry on the show

[jadewritesficshere]

Steve is nonchalantly browsing the chips, waiting for Eddie to return (who in all honesty is probably getting the bag of sour gummy worms Steve already said they couldn't grab).

Steve feels a tug on his shirt. He smiles as he turns, expecting to see his boyfriend but-

Steve looks down at the child staring up at him. "Uh hi?" Steve looks around the empty aisle," Where's your parents bud?" The kid shrugs, but points to Steve's shirt," Tiger."

Steve's faded shirt from his freshman year of high school, now the most soft and comfortable after years of wear, does in fact have a tiger. "Yeah, sure is. Who-" the kid cuts Steve off with a loud roar. Steve can't help but chuckle as he crouches down to be on the kid's level.

Steve is fully focused on this kid, trying to find whoever the kid should be with. When he stands back up, he holds his hand out to the kid, who tentatively grasps his hand. The kid continues to roar and talk about tigers.

Meanwhile, Eddie has watched most of this exchange. Seeing his beloved boyfriend talk to this random child, the concern on his face? Eddie watches from a distance as Steve finds the mother, who was freaking out (understandably).

Eddie can't help but watch as Steve says hi to the baby in the stroller, laughing as the baby reaches out and grabs his finger. Steve says goodbye to the family, roaring back at the kid, who lights up.

Eddie can't help but think how good Steve is with kids. How good of a parent Steve would be. Which, started innocent, but then Eddie's mind jumped to the process of how a child comes about.

And now all Eddie can think about is how he's gonna give Steve one. He doesn't give 2 shits about biology, Eddie's putting a baby in that man.

[wormdebut]

This interaction has been in my head for a while.

——

Steve Harrington was pissed. Livid, even.

All he had wanted was an adult beverage after a long ass day at work, which he certainly got. The whiskey sours were fucking great actually. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was the model of a bartender.

This guy was—Shit.

Tall as hell, and lean, but his arms boasted enough corded muscle that Steve couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of him looked like.

Damn, horny brain.

This guy had a riot of curls stacked on his head in a bun, which had been another nail in the proverbial horny coffin. He had chocolate brown eyes and fucking plush lips that boasted a lip ring. A lip ring.

How was Steve supposed to remain sane under these circumstances.

Robin couldn’t come out tonight so Steve was alone and just—watching this hot ass bartender work. God, he was such a creep. But this guy was so—suave, laughing with patrons, acting like he owns the place—it was some type of dive bar, plastered with tour posters and framed photos and musicians. Guitars hung on the walls.

The guy—Eddie—his name tag read, had on ripped black jeans, tattoos covered his arms and neck—Steve wanted to see where else they were hiding—his nails were painted black and he had on a faded Metallica shirt that sat tight across his lithe frame.

God—he probably did own this place. Steve really just stopped at the first place he could find, on his way back into town from a meeting. Congratulations to him for making a great fucking choice.

Steve was being a creep, watching this guy interact with someone, when he turned his attention on Steve himself. Eddie flashed his a smile—Christ, even his teeth were fucking pretty.

“Can I top you off, sweetheart?” Eddie purrs.

God, you can just top me—Steve thinks. He watches as Eddie quirks an eyes brow, before he schools his expression, flashing Steve a simmering smile.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, big boy.”

Steve’s eyes go wide. He said that out loud didn’t he.

[bixels]

As cameras becomes more normalized (Sarah Bernhardt encouraging it, grifters on the rise, young artists using it), I wanna express how I will never turn to it because it fundamentally bores me to my core. There is no reason for me to want to use cameras because I will never want to give up my autonomy in creating art. I never want to become reliant on an inhuman object for expression, least of all if that object is created and controlled by manufacturing companies. I paint not because I want a painting but because I love the process of painting. So even in a future where everyone’s accepted it, I’m never gonna sway on this.

if i have to explain to you that using a camera to take a picture is not the same as using generative ai to generate an image then you are a fucking moron.

[saccharind]

from Prokaryote Season by Leo Fox

[umblrspectrum]

another failed sneaking attempt

[sihbisu]

Did a lil thing :3

[cozylittleartblog]

autism shrimp man (i love him)