#mushy brains

[pm1073-b]

Redraw an old Loboto teehee

[speltfields]

[concerningly sweaty] i think he'd...grow a beard in the winter...!!!!!!!!!!

[rileyclaw]

what if we kissed in the clouds , or whatever ahaha.

HAPPY BIPAN HUNTLOW CONFIRMATION DAY

[marlasbreastlump]

really appreciate the framing on this to make it look like someone walked in on a particularly bloody blowjob. fight club fellatio parallel noticers stay on top

[starsnores]

We are not just art for Michelangelo to carve He can't rewrite the aggro of my furied heart

[haechansunshineboy]

*:・ﾟ✧. *:・ﾟ✧.

*:・ﾟ✧. *:・ﾟ✧.

Haechan’s rings always look so pretty on his fingers. The different intricately designed silver bands on both his left and right hands just look so good against his skin. You’d been daydreaming about holding hands with him (or his fingers trailing down your bare stomach-).

It was becoming a problem, since you were getting incredibly distracted by his hands holding the red solo cup.

He caught your eye from across the crowd, raising his eyebrows to greet you from afar. You wave back at Haechan, watching him start squeezing past people to get to where you were standing.

“Hey.” His voice puts you at ease every time and you reply back with a “hey” as well.

“Wanna get out of here?” Haechan asks you. “We can take a walk together, if you want.”

You nod, smiling at him as he gestures with two fingers for you to follow him out.

-

The two of you walked around the block until you reached a local food chain, opting to sit on the side of the empty parking lot.

The cool wind felt nice against your skin, and you turn your head to face Haechan, who was already looking at you.

You flushed at seeing his gaze on you, his soft smile growing bigger before he started talking.

“Anyway I started watching this new show..”

-

Haechan’s hands rested on his lap, palms facing upwards towards the night sky. Again, your attention was drawn to the rings adorning his hands. The simple silver band on his left index finger, the delicate ring shaped to look like a rounded nail on his ring finger, and your favorite: the pretty braided metal on his right index finger.

“Everything ok?” He asks you, noticing you hadn’t responded to his question about the show.

Feeling bold for once, you muster the courage to drag your index finger over one of the pretty silver rings adorning his knuckle.

“Sorry, I got distracted by your rings.” You mutter. You let the pad of your fingertips brush against his palm as well, feeling how soft his hands were.

“It’s o-ok. My little cousins are always asking if I’m m-married. So annoying.”

You look up at him, taking in the sight of Haechan’s attempt at being nonchalant, his reddening ears giving him away. You smile softly, bringing your attention back to his hands.

“They’re so pretty.”

Haechan lets out a soft breath when you pull your hand away, hoping you didn’t pick it up.

“Y-you know, my chain is also really nice..” He trails off, never taking his eyes off of you.

You beam at him, secretly enjoying seeing this flustered version of Haechan.

*:・ﾟ✧. *:・ﾟ✧.

[jesuistrestriste]

Wait so I have this little dream scenario in my mind. HEAR ME OUT.

You’re needing some money and start displaying ads around campus for tutoring. Art needs help in (some random subject), so he decides to hire you. When you arrive at his dorm he’s just 😶 qhat the fuck shes so hot😶 in his head, and you notice so you start playing with him during the lesson (eg calling him a good boy when he gets an answer right)

😵😵😵😵😵😵😵😵😵😵😵

oooohhh he’d be so horrifically horny !!?

like yes, tell him he’s good for getting an answer right. and yes, praise him when he makes a study guide all on his own w/out ur guidance. and yes, please let ur hands wander down his athletic shorts when he’s practicing for a verbal exam.

make him stutter and buck into ur touch till he starts squirming and trying to warn you with little murmured words of “i’m close” nd “i think ‘m gonna cum”

and all you gotta do is whisper into his ear a simple denial—“no, art” or “hold it, art”—and he’ll put all of his energy into staving off his orgasm until you give him permission to let go

he’ll do whatever you tell him; memorize all of the textbook material, finish his 10-page double-spaced essay on blah blah blah, and anything else itll take to get your hand moving on his dick just a lil bit faster

he’ll let you keep playin’ w him while he groans and shifts in his seat on his dorm room floor, trying his hardest to remember the details from the lecture, but it’s no use ! ur touch is too good and it’s all he can manage to focus on. sighhhh.

did his grades go from C-range to B-range because of your help? yes. but does he also get unexplainably turned on whenever he sees flashcards now? also yes.

[kitocrystal]

Checking out other Quest AUs as I wait for my will to come back to continue with Inky Mystery.

(The conflict has not let down yet and I’m starting to feel dread)

Anyway, go check out this neato retell of the og Quest story by @thequestfortheinkmachinecomics. The characters’ designs are nicely touched up, their personalities seems more natural now, the art is really cool and oh no, I’ve run out of juice for words… I just know that this retell will be good so I’ll be on along for this ride.

[andva-ri]

4am insomnia doodles

☆ ko-fi | patreon | commissions | prints ☆

[cupidskissx]

Lines from Charles Leclerc that make Max wiggle his foot like a dog wags its tail:

“memories that were less good became really good with time.”

“moments […] that are very funny.”

x

[jellys-compendium]

Kento Nanami: *exists*

[steveshairychest]

Steve doesn't flinch when a punch is being thrown his way. He's used to violence. Used to the sting of a fist against his cheek or a knee in his ribs. Used to the uncomfortable pain of a black eye or a broken nose. What he isn't used to is gentleness. He flinches the first time Eddie reaches out and brushes hair out of his face, and flinches again when Eddie cautiously threads his fingers with Steve's at the movies.

Eddie thinks it's because of him. He thinks Steve doesn't like him, doesn't like touching him or being around him. He says so after Steve nearly jumped through the roof of the car after Eddie put his hand on Steve's thigh. "Do you not like me anymore?" He asks quietly, insecurity bleeding into every word as he avoids Steve's eyes.

Steve shakes his head quickly and takes Eddie's hand in his own, unsure of how to make things right. "No, I'm just, uhm, still getting used to how gentle you are. It's not a bad thing! I love it. It's just a little overwhelming for a guy like me."

"A guy like you?" Eddie raises an eyebrow in question.

"I haven't always been a good guy." He says after a moment, and Eddie squeezes Steve's hand in comfort. Steve doesn't flinch this time. "I used to start fights for no reason. I would pick on kids that are just like Dustin and Mike and You. I-I wasn't a nice guy. I was a dick. I just feel like I don't deserve to be handled so gently, so softly." It hurts to say it out loud. The truth makes him feel sick to the stomach, it makes him want to run and hide from himself.

He hates who he used to be.

"You really were kind of a dick." Eddie laughs.

Steve smiles sadly and sinks back into the car seat. "I know." He knows it's the truth, but it still hurts to hear Eddie agree.

"But -" Eddie turns around in the seat and scoots as close to him as he can in the cramped front seat of Steve's car. "You've changed so much, Steve. You're not that guy anymore. I'm proud of you for acknowledging that what you did was wrong. Yes, you used to beat people up and start fights for no reason, but look at you now, sitting outside the arcade waiting for the gaggle of children that you've literally fought monsters for."

"You're a good guy, Steve." Eddie leans in close and whispers, "You're actually kind of a loser now."

Steve feels like he's going to cry. Eddie's too good for him, even if he did just call him a loser. "Hope you don't mind having a loser as a boyfriend."

Eddie leans over the centre console and kisses him softly and sweetly. "Nope, don't mind one bit. As long as you don't mind having a freak for a boyfriend, we're all good."

Steve laughs and leans back to admire the man who's changed his life for the better; the man he loves. "Hmm, I don't know... I saw you eat a whole packet of cheese yesterday."

"I was hungry!"

"I was cooking dinner! Plus, you're lactose intolerant."

"So, you're saying you don't date lactose intolerant people?"

"Yep, sorry, babe."

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 4: Wound Tending/First Aid

After Dew cuts his finger on stage, Aether takes care of him.

Content warnings for blood and mentions of injuries

Mushy May put together by the wonderful @forlorn-crows <3

Divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Aether smells it before he sees it. He's unmuzzled, unlike some of his pack, so despite his human glamour dulling his ghoulish senses, he can almost taste the thick, cloying scent of blood. He keeps playing, just barely stumbling over a chord, his eyes darting across the stage at his Papa, scanning, searching.

Papa's fine. Still singing, commanding the attention of the screaming crowd with out a hitch. Aether redirects his gaze, looking for the source of the blood.

His eyes lock on it, smears of color against an otherwise pristine white Stratocaster, and his heart drops into his gut. His mate is bleeding. It takes everything Aether's got to keep his cool and not storm across the stage to the fire ghoul.

Dew, in his defense, has not faltered; his scent hasn't changed, still riding on the excitement and adrenaline of performance. Still, Aether keeps an eye on him, watches as that guitar gets redder and redder, dripping from the fingers of his picking hand.

He'd be more worried about the bleeding not stopping if Dew were human, but they're ghouls. If anything, the bleeding has only riled him up.

The rest of the show, thankfully, goes off without a hitch. After bows, Dew steps off to stage left as Aether goes right, watching out of the corner of his eye as Dew hands his bloody guitar to his human tech, the man wide eyed at the state of his hand and the guitar. But Dew brushes right past him, and Aether quickly goes through the motions with his own tech, chasing after his mate backstage.

Dew's halfway to the dressing room when he intercepts him. "Darling," Aether says, his hand wrapping around his skinny wrist. The sleeve of his compression shirt is soaked through, with blood or sweat Aether can't quite tell.

"'M fine, Aether," Dew snaps, voice exhausted and tinging on a growl.

Aether doesn't flinch. "Listen to me, Dew," he says, not unkindly, straightening to his full height. Dew tenses, eyes locked onto Aether's. "You really think it's a good idea to walk right into a room with Rain and Sunshine while you're still bleeding?"

They're both still masked, but Aether knows Dew's rolling his eyes. His wrist is still locked in the circle of his grip. "I can deal with Rain and Sunny, Aeth. I'm fine, lemme go. I wanna get changed and get on the bus."

Aether's fingers twitch around Dew's wrist. The air, now that Dew's no less than a foot and a half away, the smell of blood is overpowering. "Dewdrop. I have been watching you bleed all night, unable to do anything about it. Ask for it and I will help you, love, but I don't want you to go in there without stopping the bleeding. I love Rain, and I love Sunny, but I love you."

Dew lets out a huff of breath from his nostrils, the steam catching in the low light. "I'm a grown ghoul, Aether," he snarls, but it's weak, and Aether knows him well enough to practically see the way he's clinging to that persona, the stoic shell that gets pulled up over his soft spots. Aether reaches up with his free hand and brushes his fingers over the side of Dew's helmet, as if tucking a long strand of hair behind a pointed ear.

"I know, darling," he hums, eyes tender. "I know. I just don't like seeing you hurt. Let me help you?"

Through the lenses of his own mask, Aether can see the way Dew's unglamoured, copper eyes soften, the fire ghoul leaning ever so slightly into his touch as he nods slowly, almost imperceptibly. Aether can feel the adrenaline starting to falter, even through the hard plastic of the mask. The crash is barreling towards Dew like a train, and Aether pulls them into one of the venue's unused dressing rooms, locking the door behind them.

Aether takes his mask off, and Dew follows suit, collapsing down onto an old threadbare couch as he pulls his balaclava down. Aether finds paper towel in the bathroom, and a first aid kit under the sink. He sits down next to Dew.

The fire ghoul's examining the cut on his finger, still bleeding, but sluggishly. He glances up as Aether sits down. "You gonna patch me up, Doctor Aether?" He asks, but the snark is fading, revealing sheer sincerity.

Aether's lip crooks up in a smile. "I am, darling. Gimme your hand?"

He does so without hesitation, trusting completely, and Aether meets his eye, kissing his knuckles before examining the cut himself. A string sliced into his pinkie on stage, and Aether hisses in sympathy.

"I barely felt it," Dew says, exhaustion seeping into his voice. "Think I got sweat in it. Fuckin' stings now."

"I bet," Aether says. He cleans the blood from his mate's hand with damp paper towel. "It looks nasty."

"Kept playing though," Dew shrugs with his other arm. Aether glances up at him, amethyst to copper. "The fans ate it up."

"If I couldn't smell it, I think I would have known when I heard it," Aether says as he reaches into the first aid kit for gauze and medical tape "Proud of you for sticking it through."

Dew makes a noise between a laugh and a scoff as Aether presses a wad of gauze to the cut. "What else was I supposed to do? Up and leave?"

"You've got me there," he hums. They're so close that Aether can feel the familiar, comforting heat radiating from Dew's body, the fire that burns at the very core of him. Dew shifts his weight, the springs of the couch squeaking in protest.

They fall into a comfortable silence as Aether works, ripping a strip of medical tape to secure the gauze to his finger. Dew watches, narrow chest rising and falling as Aether shuts the first aid kit, examining his work.

"There we go," Aether hums, tipping his head back and taking a deep breath, all of the worry hitting him as his own adrenaline starts to crash. "Should be good to meet up with the pack, 'm sure Swiss is wo-"

He cuts himself off as spindly fingers wrap around his wrist, grip tight. "Think you're missing something, starshine."

Aether cocks his head, brows furrowing tight as he does another once over on his mate. His hands come up to cup his face, thumbing over sharp cheekbones. "Are you hurt somewhere else? What am I missing, darling?"

Dew sighs, but he's smiling, relaxing into Aether's touch. "Starshine, I'm okay." He raises his hand, waggling his fingers in front of Aether's nose. "Come on, gimme a little somethin' somethin'."

"Oh," Aether laughs, taking Dew's hand in his and kissing the back of it. A little spark of quintessence jumps between them, just enough to kickstart the healing process. "Let me kiss it better, darling."

Dew laughs, smiling fondly at his quintessence ghoul. "Alright, Doctor Aether, can we go change, or do you think Rain and Sunny will still jump me?"

Aether stands, taking Dew's hands to help him up. "Let's go get changed. I'm sure the others are worried about where we ran off to."

Dew snorts, tucking himself against Aether's side. "I think they think we found a dark closet and sucked face for half an hour."

Aether cackles as he puts his mask back on.

"Aether?" Dew asks as he does the same.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, for taking care of me." The fire ghoul's eyes are soft and earnest, shining through the lenses.

"Any time."

[tapiocats]

Midnight nap 💤

[varpusvaras]

My wife is working with the referees for a basketball tournament, and I was watching the live stream of the game to see if I could spot her. The camera that showed the court and the referee table was really far off from said table and I couldn't see anyone's faces or hair and they were all wearing the same colored uniform, but- there. I recognised the way she sits and holds her hands when she is concentrating on something. Such a small thing, and I knew her instantly from it.

It just made me think, with the clones, what would be the things that someone recognises them from. Is it the way they nod and tilt their head? Is it the way they cross their arms when impatient? Is it the way they hold up their chin when saluting? Is it the way they step ever so slightly longer steps with their left leg?

What is the thing, that makes someone who loves them say "I know them", even without the Force to tell them apart?

[pepperpixel]

💖STRANGE LOVE!💖

“the lightening’s not frightening when u r w me, oh cuz love is not always what u think it’ll be!”

CROMA!!!! Croma art!!!! Cuz I forever and ever adore these two together….. they’re so good…! 🥺