#im fine y'all

[teashadephoenix]

I made myself sad.

Gonna go eat some cheese on a potato about it.

[stil-lindigo]

ARTISTS FOR PALESTINE 🇵🇸 - On the 6th and 9th of March, I'll be doing art requests on stream with other notable artists to raise money for Operation Olive Branch and the PCRF.

I'm incredibly lucky to be counting quite a few big names in the roster, including known Jesus and Odysseus enthusiast @wolfythewitch, the extraordinary fanartist @denimcatfish, and the incredibly talented @troubledminnesotan, as well as Lilypichu from OfflineTV.

You'll be able to watch the streams on the day of the event either on my twitch channel here, or via the links provided by the artists below.

Lilypichu

Cuptoast

Akairosu_

Sevvanto

Wolfythewitch

[hemipenal-system]

this is a forcefem (trans affirming genderplay) space, not a forcefem (whatever weird misogyny shit y'all got goin on) space. get on hrt or get the fuck out

[blamemma]

daniel ricciardo and max verstappen on 7news melbourne discussing how max travels with 11 padel boards, how they have great chemistry, and max declaring we should "keep on making babies".

(if used, please credit, it took me a long time to chop and stitch this together x)

[daily-vessels]

haircut!!

(context)

[midnight-mourning]

Stave off the Cold

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 24❄️❄️

guhhh i went a LIL angsty for part of this, but you'll like it dw, it'll be worth it in the end ;) hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Perhaps post ruin, since its snowing so hard the power goes out. Yn and ruin snuggling to stave off the cold and are sappy together or something along those lines. ^-^

Word Count: 1313

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

You're in the middle of the most delicate of work when it happens. The lights cut, and you curse, almost dropping the new CPU chip in the dark. Carefully, with another slew of curse—that probably wouldn't have been approved if they'd hear—you step back and search for your workbench, setting down the chip and pulling out your phone. 

Flashing it to the window, you can see the snowstorm blowing outside. That must've done it. Great. Just great. 

You glance over to the bot lying motionless on the table, heart twisting at the sight. You've been working for months to fix them, you knew there had to be way, knew that somewhere they still had to be in there. The fact that you'd been able to charge their body and get their limbs to move independently proved that. 

You rub your face and check the time, you could still work in this, as long as there was still some heat in here. The power had to come back on eventually, right?

You search for your lantern, finding it and lighting, hanging it from the ceiling above. Once everything's settled, towels stuff under the old door to help keep heat from leaking out, you get back to work. 

When you'd found them, having decided to take a look through the long abandoned Plex, you'd been horrified at their condition. Tattered clothes and broken parts, that's what remained of your beloved attendant. You remember cradle their cracked faceplate in your hand, tears welling up at the thought that'd they shut down alone, afraid, not knowing where they'd wake up again. 

That had been back in the fall, it was the dead of winter now and progress had been progressing best you could. You weren't well versed in this type of thing, you were relying on videos and online forums to guide your progress. And you were just hoping and praying you were doing all this correctly. 

You'd started with the surface level damaged and worked your way in, scrounging the Plex for spare parts and replacements. Anything you couldn't find you'd snatch up in eBay auctions or the likes. 

With tender love and care, you rebuilt your attendant back into the bot you loved. You just finished repairing Sun's rays the other day, but you kept Moon's hat on him, something about the look going along with their mismatched pants. 

Now all that was left was the hard stuff, the internal components. 

So much of their inner workings had been fried, smashed, or damaged in some other capacity. You'd feared for the worst, truthfully. Having to accept that they may actually be gone for good. It was something that haunted you for weeks before you finally bit the bullet and opened up their head. 

You had teared up a bit when you found their hard drive was in perfect condition, letting out a cheer loud enough to probably disturb your neighbors. 

Your hands are shaking now, you realize. Shivering, your shivering. You check the time again, it's already been two hours. But, you argue, it's not that cold yet. You can keep going, keeping working, keep fixing. Keep saving. 

You have to. You have to do it for them. 

You take short breaks every now and then, warming your hands on their casing. They may not be awake, but at least they're alive. 

Your breath is showing up in front of you now, your fingers feel stiff, but still, you keep going. You just have one final thing to do, give them a reset. 

Your legs hurt as you stand, walking up to where their head rests. You pull out the Faz wrench you'd found on your last trip to the Plex. A find that had you dancing around the abandoned building like an idiot. 

With a shaky grip, you insert it and turn, waiting with bated breath. 

Nothing happens. 

You step back, waiting a solid two minutes for the attendant to sit up, either AI greeting you like how you've been waiting six months for them to do. 

But they don't. 

You feel too tired and too cold to cry. Just a feeling of utter defeat overtaking you. Your head feels heavy, so do your eyelids. Maybe you just need to take a nap, and you can figure this out afterwards. 

You climb back up onto the table, laying down on the warm but empty shell of your attendant. Curling up, you pull your coat tighter around yourself and close your eyes. 

As you start to drift off, you swear you feel a shift underneath you, something laying on top of your body. 

You have a strange dream. 

In it, you're being carried through the snow by something. It has two bright eyes, one red, one white, with spikes coming off its head, and a blue hat. It speaks to you, murmuring sweet nothings that you can't recall. 

When you wake up on your couch, you realize it wasn't a dream. You go to get up, but a firm grip around your waist prevents you from doing so. Looking down, you realize your laying on top of Sun, or, Moon? You don't know, you don't care, because it clicks to you that his eyes are open and he's looking at you and he's awake—

"Hello, Starlight. We missed you."

Your voice is just a whisper. "You're awake... You're okay."

Before he can say anything, you wrap your arms around him, kissing his faceplate over and over. 

"I, I thought you guys were gone. That, that it wouldn't work, that I had to live without you." You're crying now. "I, I can't believe you're actually here."

"Silly Star. We never left." A shift in tone. "We were right there with you, Sunbeam!"

You realize what they mean. "Oh god. That means you heard all of that."

"You mean all your lovely conversations with us? Your laughter, your beautiful singing?" They take your hand, pressing it to their faceplate. "Because if so, the answer is yes."

You feel your face heat up and not knowing what else to do bury it against their neck as they laugh. 

"How awful." You mumble. 

They pet your hair for a few moments, fingers staying laced in it as you sit back up to look at them. 

You trace your hand down the side of their face, taking it all in. "I can't believe it, after all this time. Picked a terrible time to wake up. Can't even give you a proper tour of the place with the power out."

You start to get up, wanting to go grab a lamp, but they immediately pull you back down, arms firmly around you. 

"No leaving. Too cold. Stay here, we'll keep you warm."

You give in rather easily, especially when their hands start to explore just under your shirt, snickering at how you tense up. 

You scowl at them, taking their faceplate in both hands and leaning down so your foreheads are touching. "How did you two manage to get worse?"

Just another chuckle in response, their eyes nothing but thin, devious crescents. 

You kiss them then, soft, sweet. And then you do it again, and again. 

As you kiss, you feel the blanket you'd shoved off in your excitement be placed back over you both, adding to the warmth and coziness between you. 

You have to break away for a moment, panting ever so slightly. 

They tilt their head, watching you keenly. A thumb comes up to swipe against your lip. 

You smirk. "Thanks."

They nod. 

"I really missed you, you know?" You lay your head against their chest, listening to how with every tick and click and whirl, it's a sign that they're really there with you. They're actually home. 

Their hand comes up to stroke your hair, other arm snug against your hip. 

"We missed you too."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you @rosescarletful for the request! I had a bit of fun with it as you can see, very much enjoyed the concept your prompt allowed me to think up :)

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a

[cursed-rat-of-homosexuality]

= y'all are not surviving this

[strangersatellites]

very excited to announce this!!!!

envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed, lust, ao3

this is part one of what will be the

Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)

pride (noun) - inordinate esteem for one’s own excellence. It is a habit or vice that disposes us to think more of ourselves than we ought. 

The Hair.

King Steve. 

Pretty Boy.

Steve is no stranger to objectification. He’s well acquainted with the way girls blush and giggle when he smiles their way in the halls. The way guys seem to puff out their chests when they speak to him. 

In fact, his physical appearance has become so much a part of who he is at this point that he’s probably single-handedly keeping Farrah Fawcett spray on shelves across the nation.

But the thing about being naturally attractive, Steve learned the hard way, is that humility is what really gets under people’s skin. 

Blushes go pinker when his response to a giggly “You look handsome today, Steve,” is looking at his shoes with a quiet, “What, this? Thank you.”

Other boys look less ready to throw a punch or an insult his way when they sprinkle their gametime trash-talk with “Pretty Boy” and “King Steve” if he just laughs and keeps playing.

Humility is what really does it.

For most people.

In the past few months he’s been dating Eddie Munson though, he’s realized there’s one exception. 

It's not that Steve doesn’t think he’s attractive. It’s not that at all. He knows he’s good looking, spends an inordinate amount of time making sure he highlights it daily. Loves it about himself actually.

He doesn’t usually let people know that he knows, is the thing.

But Eddie loves when he’s vain.

Loves the way he primps in the mirror before they go out.

How he spins around to make sure his best assets are on display.

Steve’s honestly lost count of the number of times he’s been talking to himself in the bathroom, staring at his reflection saying “Damn, I look good in this outfit,” before arms are snaking around his waist and squeezing at his hips. A gravelly, “Fuck yeah you do,” in his ear.

That’s why, with a Herculean effort, Steve pulls himself away from Eddie’s lips where he’s in his lap on his couch.

They’re both breathing heavy, lips swollen, and eyes glassy. But Steve has an idea.

He rubs his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks and breathes a laugh when he turns to nip at one of them. Can’t help but to lean in and kiss him again.

“Can we try something, baby?” He whispers into the barely there space between them.

Feels Eddie nod and hands grip at his thighs.

“Anything you want, Stevie.”

He trails a hand back to tangle in Eddie’s curls and shifts to bite at his ear and whisper, “Want you to fuck me in front of the mirror. Wanna watch.”

When Eddie pulls back from him it’s with a wicked smirk and eyes darker than Steve’s ever seen. He bucks Steve up and off and smacks him on the ass when he turns to leave.

“Yeah baby. Let's go watch how pretty you are.”

He knows his smile is blinding when he laughs back over his shoulder. 

*****

Steve always thinks he’s hot, but he thinks he’s prettiest when he’s kneeling and sitting back on his boyfriend’s dick with tear streaks down his cheeks and drool down his chest. 

He’s so spacey, and so stuffed full that he’d agree with almost anything Eddie said. 

Currently it's a litany of, “Look at you baby, you’re so hot,” and “My sweet baby. Prettiest angel,” and “Look how pretty you are, huh,” with every punch of his hips and bite to the side of his neck.

Between Steve’s punched out breaths and whines he’s nodding. “Mhm. ‘M the prettiest. So pretty when I cry.”

His agreements have Eddie groaning and wrapping the hand not digging into his hip around the front of his neck and dragging him backward into a bruising kiss. 

He’s smiling and Steve can feel him laugh when he whimpers against his mouth. “Tell me about it baby. Tell me what’s pretty.”

Gasps from deep in his chest when Eddie wraps his hand around his cock and tugs. 

“Tell me.”

Steve whines once and squirms under the attention. Loves it. 

“My eyes,” he gasps. Eddie hums from behind him and slows his hips to a deep grind. “My eyes look really green when I’m crying. I like them.”

A soft kiss dropped to his shoulder and two sets of eyes on him in the mirror.

“My hair. Like it when– when it's messy,” a hiccup and eyes squeezed shut when Eddie shifts inside him just right. “Like when it’s messy from your hands.” 

He slides his own hands up his thighs and squeezes at the hand Eddie still has against his hip. 

He meets his own gaze in the mirror and his face breaks into a smile as his chest heaves.

“Like my lips when they’re swollen. People can tell I just kissed you. Want ‘em to know.”

In a second Eddie’s got a palm flat against his back and has his shoulders shoved down into the carpet, his head twisted to see himself.

He knows he’s falling fast because he giggles when Eddie grips at his hips and pulls him back onto his dick. Giggles even more when Eddie looks up at him in the mirror and smirks when he pushes in deep.

“Pretty when I’m ass up for you,” he smiles and his eyes finally stray away from his own reflection to meet his boyfriends gaze, fucked out and cocky.

Eddie lands a sharp smack to his ass and squeezes. “Hell yeah you are baby. So pretty when you’re on my dick.”

One of his hands slides up Steve’s spine and presses down on the back of his neck and pulls a gasp from his lungs. 

“But you know what baby?”

Steve hums with his eyes locked on the way his ass bounces with each meeting of Eddie’s hips.

The hand snakes back around to tug at his cock again and he knows it won’t take much more when Eddie grits out “Prettiest when you come for me.”

His legs shake and he lets out a high whine as he spurts into Eddie’s hand.

“That’s it angel. God you feel so good, Stevie,” is all Eddie can get out before Steve feels his hips stutter and his breath leave him in low groan.

Steve knows he’s attractive is the thing.

Knows he’s pretty and loves it.

People tell him all the time.

But one of his favorite things to hear is when he’s coming down from his orgasm high, his boyfriend lists the things he finds prettiest.

“Your smile.”

“Your laugh.”

“Your heart.”

“The way you love people.”

“The way you love me.”

“The prettiest is the way you love yourself.”

[the-spine-eater]

Hey, so, how the FUCK do some of y'all manage to listen to malevolent???

[scottinaussie]

Isaiah Mustafa

2017

[blksorrows]

how it feels getting home from school early because you got no sleep last night due to nightmares caused by ur severe trauma and you couldn't function properly in the slightest in any of your classes so you open tumblr to try and distract yourself; only to see transplurals, willogenics, "build a headmate" blogs, and just the whole endo community atp:

warning: interact with caution if u reply or interact with me rn. i cannot promise i will be polite 🙏🏻. also this post isn't a vent, more of a rant. the ramblings of a lunatic, if you must.

[snowshinobi]

hear me out: divorce ceremonies. divorce cake and divorce outfits. toasts to the uncouple spoken by the Worst Man and Maid of Dishonor (gender neutral). separate piles of gifts for the freshly parted, stuff like nice sheets and Target giftcards and cookbooks. marriage gets to have all this ritual attached to it and by god divorce deserves some of that action

[midnightmah07]

Ok genuine question why are people upset about Floyd's feet,,,, it's just feet,,,,,,, are u traumatized by feet or something/j

[deoidesign]

Guys you're not gonna believe this. The books are wrong again

At least this time I didn't even get half of them and half of what I did get was damaged...? So I only have another 70 books to deal with... This time they're soft touch......

I've got so many of book 2 it's not even funny

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

*flash-bangs y'all with a new not fine fic chapter* HA. GOTCHA BITCH