#(wrong) (sucks at that too)

[woolydemon]

LISTEN TO ME RN, when the character is supposed to be rlly strong and muscular and buff PUT FAT ON THAT GUY fat is so fucking necessary to have a physical build that is so strong MAKE THEM FATTTTTTTTTTTTT

[cutter-kirby]

obligatory “cool characterization, still murder” like I’m not excusing him but it does make him incredibly interesting

(*girl gender neutral edition)

[starrystevie]

18+ | cw: public handjobs, coming in pants | crossposted on twitter

“are you okay?”

realistically, eddie knows the answer to steve’s question is no. he’s not okay. he’s sitting in a club booth hard as nails with a flush no doubt covering his whole body. he should say no, far from okay, but instead he says-

“yeah, of course im fine.”

steve brings the back of his hand to wipe at his brow, crinkling his eyebrows together in confusion as he flashes an all too well knowing smirk eddie’s way. 

“you sure?” he asks smartly, leaning over the table to grab his rum and coke. standing back up, he tilts his head. “you look a little… bothered.”

eddie narrows his eyes and looks back out to the dance floor to see the girl steve was just dancing with crossing her arms over her chest. she’s pretty, clearly thinking she was making headway with steve, probably making plans in her head about marriage and babies with freckled cheeks.

eddie sighs and slumps over the table, balances his head in his palm as he plants his elbow on the sticky table top. 

how is eddie supposed to tell him that no, he’s no where close to alright? his cock is leaking into his nice jeans and it’s all from the way steve looks as he grinds into a pretty girl. as he tilts his head back to let the neon lights bounce off his pretty sun kissed skin. as he threads a hand into his own sweaty hair to push it back off his forehead. as he threads a hand into her curly hair to keep her where he wants her. 

he has to stop thinking about it.

if he doesn’t, he’s going to cream his pants and that would make for an even worse evening. 

“im good, man. it’s just a little hot.”

steve nods absently as he sips at his drink, as he looks eddie dead in the eye. eddie sighs and steve smirks again. he’s well and truly fucked.

suddenly, steves sliding into the booth, arm coming up to rest behind eddie’s head. he sputters, floundering as steve gets closer, close enough that he can smell his sharp cologne mixed with sweat, a smell that drives him wild. 

“oh.” steve says simply.

eddie flicks his eyes up to meet steve’s to ask what he’s talking about only to find that he’s staring at his hard on. the humiliation that rushes through eddie must cloud his vision when he thinks he sees steve’s smirk get wider, all teeth like a wolf on the hunt.

“fuck.”

he’s been caught. eddie whispers the curse into the air of the crowded nightclub but steve still hears it. his fingers drop down to just barely graze eddie’s shoulder, causing him to shudder. 

steve huffs out a laugh. “looks like i was right, you are bothered.”

eddie groans and drops his head with his eyes closed. “yeah, yeah, laugh all you want.” if he was flushed earlier, it grows tenfold now. he can feel the heat emanating off of him, warm enough that he feels sick with it.

he wants a hole to open up and swallow him. he wants to run out the door and never look back, saying au revoir to the fairytale idea of ever being with steve. he wants to crawl into his bed and jerk himself off under his covers and think about how hot the humiliation is that runs through him when steve looks at him and-

“you want some help with that?”

eddie freezes. steve’s breath is hot against his ear as he leans down to yell over the music, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin, the fingers that were teasing along the very tip of eddie’s shoulder pressing more intently into him.

“…do i want some help with what?” he murmurs, sliding his eyes open to glance at steve as he pulls back.

there’s something electric that zings through him as their eyes meet. the lights flash and steve is covered in red, glinting off his teeth like he could go in for the kill.

eddie thinks, knows, that he’d let him if he really wanted to.

“your little problem. or well-” steve breaks off and makes a clear look down, trailing his eyes slowly over eddie before bringing them back up to eddie’s face. “maybe not so little, huh?”

eddie blanches, a whine escaping him without his permission, something high and thready from the back of his throat. it’s a miracle steve can even hear it, but he does, taking it as the ‘fuck yes’ answer that it’s meant to be and sliding his hand down to rest on eddie’s thigh.

steve’s fingers tighten around eddie’s leg as he nods, the pressure quick and intense and enough to have him whining once more, shoulder slumping forward. he’s going to black out, he just knows it. his head is getting all foggy in anticipation.

when he looks down and sees just how hard steve’s breathing too, his chest expanding in time with the increasing pressure of his fingers, it all clicks in eddie’s head. this isn’t just for him like he thought it was. this isn’t just helping with his maybe not so little problem.

this is for steve, too.

once he realizes it, he sees the same realization wash over steve and the floodgates open. there’s a hand cupping his cock over his jeans as steve pulls the table closer to cover what they’re doing. it’s so much so fast and eddie takes in a gasping breath.

steve’s scooting somehow even closer to eddie until they’re pressed together hip to hip, chest to chest, with lips hot against eddie’s ear once more. eddie briefly wonders what they must look like but it’s dark enough that people aren’t looking over. not really.

if they did look over, they’d see eddie with his mouth agape, shoulders and head hunched forward as his friend must be saying something over the music. they wouldn’t see a hand working deliciously over him. they wouldn’t see the tongue flitting out to play with his earrings. they wouldn’t hear the absolute filth that steve is whispering that brings eddie closer and closer to the brink.

“god, i can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” he says and eddie feels like he can’t breathe, his hips bucking forward to chase after an embarrassingly fast orgasm. “think if you come in your pants, you can get it up again when we leave? want you to fuck me into the mattress until i’m fucking crying, til i'm begging for it. think you can do that?”

it’s too much. eddie turns his head and looks at steve with his lip pulled between his teeth. “what about her?”

he doesn’t have to clarify, they both know who he’s talking about. steve grins again as he quickens his hand. watches as red lights and bliss pass over eddie’s face.

“just wanted to make you jealous,” he breathes out, “she has your hair, y’know? wanted to feel like it was you against me.”

steve’s hand grinds into him once more and then his fingers are finding their way around his length in the denim, stroking him quickly. it's a bit too dry and it kind of hurts but they both correctly guess that eddie loves it a bit too dry, a bit too painful.

eddie chokes, eyes squeezing together as he comes in his pants like a goddamn teenager.

“there you go,” steve murmurs pressing a featherlight hidden kiss to his temple.

eddie jolts his hips through the aftershocks, unable to hide the whimpers that escape him. he doesn’t care about it, can’t care about it, not when steve picks up one of eddie’s hands to place on his own hard cock. he can feel a damp spot under his palm, and when he looks up at steve's face, he looks about as wrecked as eddie feels.

the only thing he can possibly say to steve is easy. “take me home. now.”

[stilitrash]

Fionna was so damn h0rny in this episode and I completely support her <3

[puppyeared]

Nick and Pearls

[napping-sapphic]

Sooo NONE of you want to fall deeply unhealthily in love with me rn……?

[kyuhu]

hangover

[coquelicoq]

if you're wondering what the big deal is about the louis-philippe sentence in les misérables, it is, in the original french, 760 words long. the subject of the sentence doesn't appear until 95% of the way through, at word #711; the main verb is word #712. the sentence contains 91 commas and 49 semicolons and is almost entirely a list of laudatory adjectival phrases describing the erstwhile king of france. this is perhaps especially notable because les mis is, shall we say, not known for being particularly gung-ho about the monarchy.

this sentence copied and pasted into Word takes up more than one page single-spaced. in the 1800-page folio classique edition, it is fully two and a half of those 1800 pages. that means that les mis is 0.14% this single sentence. more of les mis is made up of this sentence than earth's atmosphere is made up of carbon dioxide (0.04%). if the page count of les mis stayed the same but every sentence was the length of this one, les mis would consist of only 720 sentences total.

incidentally, guess who named hugo a peer of france 17 years before the publication of les mis?

[tender-traps]

GOD i am such a sucker for cinderella whump

all the possibilities for an awful home life. forced to work, vilified, beaten, starved, locked in isolation, you name it. and of course being denied a blanket and having to huddle close to the fire in winter.

then they're free for just one night, or maybe three. just a short little step into a world where all of it goes away.

and then there’s the stranger. god this perfect stranger, beautiful and kind, who sees something worthwhile in whumpee. when they catch whumpee looking sad, they actually care.

and then they go back. and that taste of freedom makes it all the more painful. and when they think of the rest of their miserable life their spirit starts to break.

but the stranger!!!!! dropping everything, maybe making a personal sacrifice of their own, just to find their missing friend, because they CARE. someone finally cares enough to make it stop. and they do.

and that's where the story ends a lot of the time but we don't do that here. the aftermath. the scars, all of the toxic shit whumpee believes about themself, the feeling of being indebted to their savior. i'll take all of it thank you <3

[cozymochi]

Can u pls draw Silver crumbled on the ground like Aurora

now gimme something in return, but you can only guess what i’d want, no hints

[potato-lord-but-not]

How do you come up with sketch ideas? i stg your sketchbook is like a fucking sitcom or something, your doodle dumps make me laugh out loud. how do you do that????

honestly I just think about the fictional guys wayyyy too much. I’m a very visual person when it comes to my thoughts so really it’s just copying them down to the best of my artistic abilities. always putting those guys in situations and since I’m so averse to writing fanfics I make the most crusty sketches imaginable to cope

[lord-squiggletits]

One of my favorite parts of phase 2 (and indeed one of the few moments I resonated with IDW Prowl) was when the neutrals were coming back to Cybertron and Prowl said that he refused to let Autobots be pushed aside and overruled after they were the ones who fought for freedom for 4 million years (the exact wording escapes me atm).

And I mean, that resentment still holds true even once the colonists come on bc like. As much as it's true that Cybertron's culture is fucked up, and as funny as it can be to paint Cybertronians as a bunch of weirdos who consider trying to kill someone as a common greeting not important enough to hold a grudge over.... The colonists POV kind of pissed me off a lot of times, as did the narrative tone/implications that Cybertronians are forever warlike and doomed to die by their own hands bc it just strikes me as an extremely judgemental and unsympathetic way to deal with a huge group of people with massive war PTSD and political/social tensions that were rampant even before the war?

Like, imagine living in a society rife with bigotry and discrimination where you get locked into certain occupations and social strata based on how you were born. The political tension is so bad there's a string of assassinations of politicians and leaders. The whole planet erupts into an outright war that leads (even unintentionally) to famine and chemical/biological warfare that destroys your planet. Both sides of the war are so entrenched in their pre-war sides and resentment for each other that this war lasts 4 million years and you don't even have a home planet any more. Then your home planet gets restored and a bunch of sheltered fucks come home and go "ewww why are you so violent?? You're a bunch of freaks just go live in the wilderness so that our home can belong to The Pure People Who Weren't Stupid And Evil Enough To Be Trapped In War" and then a bunch of colonists from places that know nothing about your history go "lol you people are so weird?? 🤣🤣 I don't get why y'all are fighting can't you just like, stop??? Oh okay you people are just fucked up and evil and stupid then" ((their planets are based on colonialism where their Primes wiped out the native populations btw whereas the Autobots and OP in particular fought to save organics. But that never gets brought up as a point in their favor)) as if the damage of a lifetime of war and a society that was broken even before the war can just magically go away now that the war is over.

Prowl fucking sucks but he was basically the only person that pointed out the injustice of that.

And then from then on out most of the characters from other colonies like Caminus and wherever else are going "i fucking hate you and your conflicts" w/ people like literal-nobody Slide and various Camiens getting to just sit there lecturing Optimus about how Cybertronians are too violent for their own good and how their conflicts are stupid, with only brief sympathetic moments where the Cybertronians get to be recognized as their own ppl who deserve sympathy before going right back to being lambasted.

Like I literally struggled to enjoy the story at multiple points because there was only so much I could take of the characters I knew and loved being raked over coals constantly while barely getting to defend themselves or be defended by the narrative so like. It was just fucking depressing and a little infuriating to read exRID/OP

[brucewaynehater101]

Me: *throughly enjoying a fic*

Fic: *batfam starts forcing a character to do shit the character is obviously uncomfortable with and doesn't want to do all for that character's "best interest"*

Me: "Fuck."

[bogkeep]

saw some lego dinosaurs today :3

[buglvr24]

why why why is putting clothes away and keeping my room clean so difficult. it literally feel torturous sometimes. i know i need to try and do difficult things. i was trying to clean and i was like “i wish i could just have two laundry baskets. one for dirty clothes and one for clean.”

and my mom said, “you can’t do that”

so i said “well why not if it would help me keep my room cleaner and work for me”

and she said “well then what’s the point of having a closet and drawers, and your clothes would be all wrinkled, and you’d never be able to find anything.”

she’s right and i’d love to have everything put perfectly away but it’s just so much sometimes

[queerofthedagger]

One thing I think about a lot is that when Nargothrond falls, it is heavily implied that as good as everyone perished or, if not, got captured. Like, unlike with the Fall of Doriath, there is no mention at all of any refugees removing to the Mouth of Sirion - and yet, I assume that is very likely where Celebrimbor, at least, went? I definitely think he would have fought, but clearly he survived and neither Doriath nor Gondolin really were an option for him, and I doubt even more that he would have gone back to his family.

And there are a lot of implications to all that, but maybe the one that keeps me up most is that this means he would have likely been there when the refugees of Doriath arrived, when they told of what his family did. That his father is dead. What would he have been thinking? What would the survivors of Doriath been thinking? Like, I know there were technically several different camps to some extent, but I doubt they would have been wholly separate, especially upon arrival. What kind of horror to find someone who looks just like one of those guys who just slaughtered your friends and family. What kind of horror to look like someone who just committed such horrors.

He also would have been there when the third kinslaying occurred, or at least very close to it. What an experience, to end up on the other side of it. To see exactly what might have become of him had he not foresworn his father years ago, and also to see yet again what became of his family. Like yeah, everything before/during the Nargothrond Disaster would have already been formative for him and his future choices, but I do feel even being in the vicinity of all of that would have been such a dire reinforcement of all those convictions and reasons that made him disavow them in the first place. And especially in terms of the third kinslaying, it's also why I personally really doubt that there is a chance at any kind of reconciliation with any of the brothers, whether it's his father or I don't know, Maedhros or Maglor. Like, I just don't think there is any coming back fromt hat, really, if there ever was.