#the brain worms are back!!

[soni-dragon]

“and what if who and what i am is going to get you killed?”

+ ramblings :)

[heartorbit]

find another role, carry on the show

[atomicradiogirl]

house and wilson in house md is the opposite of queerbaiting. they are the most canon tragic friends to lovers situationship in fiction history they literally move in together, EVERYONE thinks they’re a couple, house literally fakes his own death just so he can be alone with wilson in his last few months of life, the show ends with them riding off into the sunset together. they literally love each other. the only thing missing is they don’t kiss (on screen). dear GOD. and this show is from 2004. house and wilson invented 90% of modern day queer ship dynamics. just saying.

[psapraca]

I. "What if he didn't get to read that novel... What will happen to him?"

[slushglow]

where are my edward elric fans in the crowd tonight

[xavathun]

i am fucking Thinking about how death is handled in destiny 2 once again.

in regards to guardians it’s almost treated as like a joke or something deeply unserious? possibly even alien in a way due to how we kill and destroy and wreck havoc against our alien foes, but we ourselves never die. it’s really interesting to me cause there really isn’t a lot that can permanently kill a guardian so it makes sense we’d have this perception. like off the top of my head you have weapons of sorrow, hive rituals where the light is drained from a guardian, and paracausal beings which ofc includes other guardians. but that isn’t a lot, most deaths are not permanent and so this perception of death among guardians seems like death really isnt that big of a deal.

we jump off the tower and then get resurrected and have a little laugh about it. guardians constantly kill each other for fun in crucible. we are always doing incredibly stupid shit but we are rewarded because our enemies do not share in our immortality. it’s fascinating bc this not only makes us become riskier as time goes on due to being rewarded (enemies defeated) for our lack of self preservation, but this also makes guardians as a whole uniquely unsuited to handle grief and loss. if you spend your whole unlife winning and thinking that if a friend dies they’ll just come right back, it’s such a shock if (or rather when) they actually do die permanently. and then that guardian has to spend the rest of their immortal, undying life remembering. they have to live with that while they watch the newer guardians flood into the tower with the same naive disposition as they once had.

i’m sure guardians know theoretically they could die permanently at any point, especially because of those like dredgen yor, but i feel like for most it’s one of those things that most would say “well that would never happen to me” until it does happen. guardians seem to just have this inability to let go and it makes me want to bite drywall because i think abt it too long and start going feral. like!! the past may be the past but it sure doesn’t feel like it when you’re immortal and you remember that shit clear as day!!! aghhhh pacing around my room in circles and eating ROCKS

[starrystevie]

18+ | cw: improper use of plumping lipgloss, mentions of alcohol, oral sex, it's steddie endgame i promise | crossposted on twitter

it’s no secret, steve likes making out. likes isn’t a strong enough word. he loves making out. loves grabbing hold of someone and pulling them close, loves laying over them on a couch, on a bed, hips just barely moving as he takes them apart with lips and teeth and tongue.

that doesn’t change once he’s had a few drinks either, body tingling with tequila or vodka or something equally strong that has his inhibitions thrown to the wind. he’s always able to find someone willing to dance with him, hips pressed together and arms wrapped around shoulders.

it’s usually girls, pretty things with pretty hair that draw steve in like a punch drunk happy moth to an overzealous flame. they’ll turn their heads with a flirty shy smile and follow him out to the dance floor before pressing up tight against his front.

they’ll curl their fingers into his where they rest low on their hips and keep him close. they’ll drop their heads onto his shoulder and let their breath ghost over the side of his face until he gets the all too obvious hint.

steve likes making out on a dance floor. no, not likes.

loves.

that is until his lips are covered in sticky, sweet lip gloss and he’s pulling away because his tongue is on fire, tingling from something other than alcohol and the thrill of being in a pretty girl’s mouth.

“what is that?” he yells into her ear over the bumping bass.

“sorry,” the girl says sheepishly, “it’s my lipgloss. it plumps my lips.”

she goes back in to kiss steve once more and he isn’t exactly going to deny her. her lips are pretty just like her, plump and shiny and all too inviting, so he kisses her back. the gloss is spicy on the cracks of his lips, on the tip of his tongue when he he pulls her lip in between his teeth. it’s addictive in a way. he wonders if his own lips will plump up from the contact alone.

later, when they say their drawn out goodbyes outside of the club, he’ll ask to borrow the lip gloss since his night isn’t over yet. she’ll pull it out with a grin and apply it so sweetly to her own lips and then to his. her touch is gentle and precise before she puts the tube back in her purse and then connects their lips for a final time.

steve likes to make out. no, not likes.

loves.

so he goes to a bar around the corner, robin hot on his coat tails with some blonde she picked up attached to her side, and he’ll order a vodka soda that he can sip through a straw so he doesn’t destroy his pretty glossed lips. the bar is grungy, but steve almost prefers that, able to blend into smoky shadows and dark corners while he watches the crowd.

while he watches someone in the crowd watch him back.

he has wild curly hair and handcuffs on his belt and steve swears he’s staring at his lips and the way the light is bouncing off of the gloss, but he isn’t too sure. not until there’s wild curly hair and handcuffs on a belt standing right in front of him.

steve has a different confidence with guys. maybe it’s because he has to read them a little differently. maybe its because he gets read by them a little differently, too. but flirting is flirting all the same and steve finds himself biting at his lip and licking away some of the spicy lip gloss with a wince as it burns the inside of his mouth.

curly hair handcuff guy is cuter once they start talking for a while, all animated and vibrant, a bright shiny beacon in a dingy bar. he finds out his name is eddie with a lingering handshake that means something, fingers trailing and tingling like they had a spice to them, too.

they don’t dance, but they do end up out back, sharing a cigarette as drunk people stumble around them. it’s easy enough for eddie to light, flame from the lighter sparking in his big, brown eyes.

“so steve,” he says, flicker of some other kind of spark in his eye, “where to?”

and steve knows how to do this part. he grabs the cigarette out of eddie’s mouth and puffs on it himself, blowing the smoke over his head. “is it too forward to say i don’t think i can last much longer without getting my mouth on you?”

eddie grins and lets his eyes flit down. “no. is it too forward for me to say that i’d let you do anything to me, mouth or otherwise?”

he takes the cigarette back and steve can see his trace left behind on the filter, can see when the hint of gloss hits eddie’s lips if the wrinkle of his eyebrows is anything to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just winks over at steve. he doesn’t say anything, just drags him into a taxi. he doesn’t say anything, just wraps a hand high over steve’s thigh, just pushes steve up against his apartment wall, just fumbles over handcuffs and pushes down his jeans.

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

if he loves making out, then he really fucking craves giving head. he feels like a cartoon animal with hearts popping out of his head as he pulls eddie’s cock out of his briefs. he licks his lips like he’s starving and regrets it when the gloss singes his tongue.

steve looks up from his knees and swipes a finger over his lips, holding it up high for eddie to see. “taste it,” he whispers.

eddie’s eyes widen, but he obediently bends his neck, tongue lolling out so he can lap at steve’s finger. “your lip gloss is spicy,” eddie says flatly as he recoils.

steve nods. “and it’s going on your cock unless you say otherwise.”

which is how steve finds himself turning eddie into a writhing mess. his hands hold onto the backs of eddie’s shaking knees as he works over his cock. his hair stings as eddie tugs on the strands. his eyes water as he sucks him in deeper and deeper into his throat, spicy lipgloss tingly on his tongue and cheeks.

“you are a fucking wonder,” eddie whines, hips humping as he grinds himself further into steve’s mouth. “just fucking made for this, huh?”

steve pulls off and spits on his cock to jack his hand over it as he pulls the head to his lips. he rubs the sensitive tip over his lips just to watch eddie twitch.

“you have no idea.”

he blows a line of cool air over the gloss that’s left there and drinks in the way eddie’s eyes roll back in his head before swallowing him back down, reveling in the spice that hits the back of his throat as he does so.

when eddie comes, he pulls steve off so he can paint his pretty, puffy, plump lips with it, dragging his cock over them to make a mess. it’s not a surprise when steve licks it off, spicy and salty and a special kind of sweet that he thinks is all eddie. he leans up to place a kiss into the thatch of hair over eddie’s cock, smearing behind come and shiny lip gloss.

“you gonna wait for me to come in my pants or can i go fuck you?”

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

and he loves giving eddie head. and he loves fucking eddie. and he loves waking up with a spicy, sticky residue on the side of his cheek after falling asleep with his head on eddie’s chest.

and maybe, just maybe, he’ll love eddie someday, too.

[shroomthedecayedfox]

Warmth 💤

[zephyrartz-owo]

Mental Health Tip! Don't skip meals lest you be fighting demons

[emmfairy]

my take on Strahd’s polycule from hell (I adore them)

[webonchin]

Good night fellow sandman fans 🌌💤

Still waiting (im)patiently for season 2...

[corantus]

queens of noise 💥💥💥

[heartorbit]

a fool and a sinner

[maybmila]

The shittens pt. 1 ref ( the one dressed up with the cush is a third narilamb child, not these guys)

Did you know sheep usually have twins or triplets?

[aquapede]

Suddenly, your body seizes up.

What are you looking at?

[bulbabutt]

sorry if this is old news but doing an 03 rewatch made me remember what the hell it is that draxums lab (home?? whatever) looks just like

and oh yeah who'd the 03 turtles meet down there

this weirdo mage dude trying to repopulate the hidden city (w what they originally thought were good intentions) whos outfit and silhouette and colour palette is very visually similar to draxums

anyway theres so many similarities between 03 and rise its wild to think people thought this show was nothing like the others lmao