tumblerislovetumblerislife

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A week or so ago I was "half-lucid dreaming" (aware I was dreaming but not nearly as conscious as daytime self, and still somewhat "on rails"). I decided to try and turn it into a sex dream, walked up to a door and went "ok, when I go through this door, on the other side there will be attractive people to have sex with", and then upon going through it was a large space (IIRC like a high school gymnasium) that was dark, cold, and completely empty. There were even cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. It was cartoonish in its lack of subtlety.

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Always kind of weird to me when people talk about how character X or Y has catholic guilt and then the character they are talking about not only never grew up catholic but has actual concrete, religion-irrelevant reasons to feel guilty linked to character-defining past traumas.

Not all guilt is catholic.

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

by aletterinthenameofsanity

“C’mon, King,” Crystal says as she abandons fiddling with the settings on her tripod in favor of crawling on top of his thighs, makeup kit in hand, “You know you can’t go bare-faced for a photograph. The magazine would kill us.”

They’ve literally had sex before, and multiple times, have seen each other plenty naked, and yet there is something about this, about Crystal straddling his lap to adjust his makeup, teeth digging into her lower lip in concentration, that is somehow more intimate.

For some people, makeup is a mask, a way to fit in; for him, it has always been a way to stand out, not to catch attention, necessarily, but a way to be himself.

Thomas with makeup is the most honest he ever is. It is him at his most true.

Thomas would never trust anyone else with makeup. Never has. He’s got a stipulation in his contract that they can hire fifty dozen hairstylists if they want, but no makeup artist is ever going anywhere near his face.

And yet, right now, he holds his breath as Crystal applies his makeup. Applies it for a photograph, yes, but applying it in a way that doesn’t just bring out what the magazine wants, neutrals and the like, but what makes him feel like himself. 

Words: 4444, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of dress you up in my love (cat king/crystal brainrot)

Fandoms: Dead Boy Detectives (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Cat King (Dead Boy Detectives), Crystal Palace (DCU), Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU), Niko Sasaki, Monty (Dead Boy Detectives)

Relationships: Cat King (Dead Boy Detectives)/Crystal Palace (DCU), past Cat King/Edwin Payne, past Crystal Palace/Charles Rowland - Relationship, Cat King & Niko Sasaki, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Monty/Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Friends With Benefits, Alternate Universe - Human, Model Thomas King, photographer crystal, Romantic Comedy, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Sweet/Hot, these two are idiots and i love them so much, Makeup, Feelings Realization, Love Confessions, once again two lonely souls connecting but this time WITH A HAPPY ENDING

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So January was 17 weeks long. And February is 3 and a half horrifying days. Do I have that right?

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17 years ago today.. the biggest rockstar move in history.

The look of satisfaction says everything

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hey guys I don’t have pronouns anymore I got the she/it beat out of me

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obsessed that a french guy was like, hmmmmmm I wish to write a spanish-language musical about a mexican drug cartel crime lord transitioning. sure I can't write music, don't speak spanish, know nothing about mexico or the drug war, and also know nothing about being trans; but that shall not stop me

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In the horse straight up "sacking it" and by "it". Haha, well. Let's just say. The holy citadel of troy

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‘Free Luigi’ billboard has gone up in lower Manhattan the evening before his next court appearance.

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they call my dick excalibur. because it sat in a lake for a long time . no other reasons

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

times are tough right now so have this image that i love.

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Still Can...

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Charles: Why is Crystal crying? Niko: She took the "Which Dead Boy Detective Are You?" quiz. Charles: And who'd she get? Niko: Edwin.

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

This morning my child (soon to be 3) requested that I make him toast "with creamy peanut butter on the bottom and crunchy peanut butter on the top."

ME: You mean put peanut butter on both sides?

HIM: Yes.

ME, getting into "sometimes kids have to experience the natural consequences of their actions" parenting mode: Okay, I'll do it, but you know that's gonna be really messy, right?

He insisted, and then when it was, indeed, really messy, he sobbed inconsolably on the floor. I offered to make him regular toast, or a sandwich of peanut butter toast, or a triple-decker tower of toast slices, or any other iteration of peanut butter and toast, but nothing made it better. His vision had not come to fruition. He was crushed.

His dad was in a Zoom meeting upstairs—we're all home because it's a snow day—and came down to find out what terrible ill had befallen us to cause so much wailing.

"Oh," he said. "I see. You wanted non-Euclidean geometry. Hypertoast."