#starshiners

[almondy-milk]

they find each other in every iteration just to get another divorce

also switched my brush. likely to switch again, im indecisive lmao

[kirstydreaming]

[auti-starshine]

The fearmongering around medical transition for transmascs will never not be upsetting to me.

“you’re gonna look ugly as a man” ���but you’re such a pretty girl, don’t change that” Wrong. You will look different after T, but you will look happy. You will probably grow hair and gain weight and look pretty different, and none of that is bad or makes you less desirable. You are going to look like you and that’s all that matters.

“T makes you angry” “you’re gonna be a scary man i won’t feel safe around you” Wrong. Testosterone does not “make” you angry. Messing with your hormones will mess with your emotions for sure, but you will not immediately become some scary predator when you start T. Being a man/masculine does not make you a threat, a predator, or inherently angry. That’s radfem shit.

“bottom growth is gross” “no one will want you with bottom growth” Wrong. Bottom growth is cool and a LOT of guys end up loving theirs a lot more than they thought they would. For a lot of people it is a desirable trait, there are people who find bottom growth hot and attractive. And! If you’re sure you don’t want it there’s things you can do to work around that, just talk to your provider.

“bottom surgery is super painful and not worth it” First off, call it phalloplasty, because that’s what you’re talking about. Second, yes it’s painful, it’s surgery. There are risks to it and complications can happen, but that’s true of any surgery. Phallo might not be for you, but it is life saving care for other folks. It is beautiful and should be talked about as life saving care and not as some afterthought thing that no one actually does.

Being transmasculine is a beautiful thing. Transitioning medically is not something every trans person wants, but if you notice yourself holding back for the reasons i’ve listed above (or similar) maybe reconsider.

[infernal666combustion]

Millie Bobby Brown

[orangepajamas]

somebody from a previous post said carlos said vincent sees tedesco as a frightened child and i haven't been the same since-

[thbbie]

༄ sub-ish roommate! suguru x gn!reader.

you and your ridiculously handsome roommate, sleep together. as in the same bed of course, nothing beyond that. your relationship strictly amicable. he's a good roommate.

it started a few months back. suguru gets nightmares , he'll tell you about then sometimes though it's never in great detail. one night, you'd been woken by the your thirst wanting water.

as you made your way to the kitchen you already find suguru there, a light blacker thrown over his broad shoulders and a cup of tea that looks cartoonishly small in his hands. you greet him upon seeing him, and he greets you back; perfectly amicable.

you fill the glass in hand with cool water twice, once you drink it right there, standing in the kitchen watching in him sip his tea and rock himself gently in the chair.

the second glass you fill is to bring with you to your room, to avoid a second voyage should you need it. softly, you wish him a good night as you pass, voice raspy with sleep. you get a little nod and smile in return, even now, seep deprived and in the dead of night, suguru is graceful.

back in to your room, you set the cup atop your nightstand and curl back beneath the sheets, options to keep the prettt navy robe on. the silken fabric so nice on your skin, you feels luxurious.

when you finally manage to settle, find the coolest part of the sheets and resting you head against the pillow just right, there's two oft knocks at your door. suguru.

he cracks the door open slightly to find you laying comfortably in bed, the blissful look of some who is sleeping without overheating sheets, but that's all thrown out the window when you see him, picking up to see him properly. he's doesn't say anything for a bit, was this inappropriate of him? he's walked in on you doing far more.. intimate things that sleeping before. you're both adults and live in the same space, it's bond to happen. and it's natural, nothing shameful about it despite it feels that way sometimes is what he convinces himself. finally he speaks, "hey."

sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, the navy robe slipping off on of your shoulders as you do, "hey suguru." you wait for him to saying something else but he doesn't. the large man standing against your doorframe playing with his hands like he doesn't know what to do with them, he looks down at them in contemplation. pretty soft lips open and close in hesitance to speak.

"i had a nightmare," he says finally, god he feels like a too big child. " i can't sleep." he add as though it makes his intentions any clearer. he doesn't specify further, looking at you expectantly.

the minutes drag on and the sleep is still heavy in your bones, you're so tired. and as much as you adore your roommate you're too tired for this. so, while lifting the corner of the blankets you pat the mattress you lay on in invitation, "do you wanna sleep with me?" without having to ask twice, he slips between your sheets.

this isn't weird, you cuddle all the time while watching movies on the couch. a bed is no different (people have sex on couches too, and a couch has less room. this isn't wired at all)

you pull him into your chest when he lays down, hoping to give him some comfort through your touch and kind words of affirmation as your delicate fingers comb through his hair. suguru's so close he can smell the faint scent of the body wash you used earlier, but he's too tired to be flustered by that or by the closeness or the though of sharing a bed right now.

sharing your bed had become routine now, it comes naturally. it helps suguru with the nightmares and you get to hold and be held by hid warm body all night, a win-win situation if you've ever seen one.

a few times though, you've been woken by a hardness pressing into you, sometimes grinding against you softly. you just ignore it, pretending your still asleep if you feel him begin to stir, and like you don't notice it when you wake up (lieslieslies. you could never 'not notice it') it was natural, and there's no sense in bringing it up, it'll only make things uncomfortable; possibly ruining the little routine you both have established.

in the quiet moments in between, when suguru is still sound asleep, you let yourself enjoy it. maybe it's perverse of you but you really cannot help yourself.

he'd wake up, sometimes embarrassed or flustered and others annoyed that he couldn't lay in your bed for longer and remain in your welcoming embrace.

this morning, as you've come to expect, it happens again — the hard mass between his legs pressing into you from behind. the hands wrapped around you disentangle themselves from your body, lowly muttered annoyed curses leave suguru's lips, but you don't let him get far. catching his wrist in your hand, facing him now.

you look so enticing. he throbs in his pants, the blood rushing away from his head down to his groin. the need to take care of himself quickly becomes a second thought. second to embarrassment. and how could anyone ever worry about themselves before thinking about how they could do it for you.

that's what made sense in suguru's mind anyway.

you pull him back gently, though really you just guide the moment and he follows along. letting you drag his bigger body back into your bed. "it's okay, don't be embarrassed. it's natural."

suguru's cheeks heat up further at that, you sound so calm, so unbothered by all of this. taking a deep breathe before , "i could help you if you'd like." his eyes get impossibly wider. you could- what?

he tells himself that he doesn't know what's coming but nods anyway. "suguru."

his throat is dry but still he swallows feeling impossibly turned on by you, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing as he does, "yes" "i need words from you love."

love. you called him love. they mean nothing by it suguru, pull yourself together. you use terms of endearment freely, it means nothing, but it fuels the dizzying feeling in his head.

" you.. you can help me" "hmm, thank you suguru"

he should be the thankful one, but responding is difficult when he's hung up on the words you speak and how your raspy sleepy tone wrap around each syllable. the sound sultry and incredible sexy.

you move over him, straddling his waist and pushing him down by the shoulders willing him to just "relax" your voice like a potent aphrodisiac to him right now. "theree you go."

climbing down his body until your face to face with the swollen bulge in his pants. you pull them down slightly, teasing the skin of his hips and lower abdomen with your nails, until a cute sound escapes him, only then do you pull them the rest of the way down, his cock finally springing out.

leaky and red, oh the poor thing. swollen beyond belief and neglected for too long, suguru is too pretty a man to have to take care of himself.

without another word or teasing touch, you take him in your mouth. just the tip, savouring the flavour of him on your tongue. slowly you make you way down further, slowly, taking more and more of him down your throat.

suguru fists at the sheets till his knuckles go white and he pants and he moans. doing his absolute best to keep his eyes open, to watch as you take him in your mouth like you've done it a hundred times before, he fits so well. his cute roommate, laying on their belly on their bed taking such good care of him in their mouth. ohh fuckk.

he's quite mostly before the pleasured moans and whines that rip through him, he'll give you some words of praise and encouragement but you hardly need them. doing so well to please him all on your own.

when he gets close however; profanities and praise and moans slip through his lips alike, and when you gaze up at him, your pretty eyes shining and twinkling while looking into his own, he can hardly handle it.

"mmmhmgh ~ fuhck, fuck. feels so good. please. your doing soo so good. so good for me."

you notice that he's kept his hands at his side, clawing and dusting at the sheets, oh how polite of him. you take on of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers, in the other you take his hands hand bring it up to your head, letting it rest there. a silent permission. you can touch me too.

it feels so close so intimate, pleasure only being amplified.

you pull off of him just before he spills in your mouth. you wanna watch when it happens. stroking him in your hand while the other holds his, kissing the back of it from time to time coating it in a mix of his pre and you salivas.

with a loud broken groan, his head thrown back with the sheer pleasure overtaking him and his larger hand gripping yours tight, he cums all over your hand and himself, strong body convulsing in pleasure.

suguru isn't a virgin. that wasn't his first blowjob, he can't remember it actually, but that? he will never forget. that felt like it may have been the first time getting his dick touched by someone else. the first time being really touched.

fuck.

he's still panting, breathing in shallow breathes in a failing attempt to calm himself. you crawl back up to him, looking much much more put together than he does. how?

smiling down softly at him, like he hung the stars or set the earth in orbit. really all he had done was get hard while sleeping and and cum embarrassingly quick from your mouth.

suguru looks at you with so much awe, his throat dry and face being flushed. you hand him the glass of water from your nightstand, not as cool as it was last night, but still it'll do wonders in refreshing him.

you clean him of himself carefully. he watches as he drinks the water and wills himself not to get hard again. don't be greedy suguru. don't be greedy.

you both have the whole day ahead of you, the warm rays of sun filleting in through your dark embroidered curtains , this is just so comfortable.

you rest your back against the headboard, just as he is, and finally he can smile back. so he does, with his lovely hair messy and sticking to his forehead, dazzling and kind and thinking of when he can pay back the favour.

he's a good roommate, and it would be incredibly rude for him not to take care of the cute one he has in return.

returning the favour

[alienlowlife]

happy mothers day!

[call-me-starshine]

honestly not sure which of these i prefer at this point

[krautvan]

Katja this time, I am happy how it turned out.

[laughingshadows]

When you hunkering down for a good fic before bed…only for the fic to be so damn good you gotta sit right back up again😩

[drowninginseaofstars]

Kisses

cw: Ghost lowkey being a creep, brief illusion to Ghost's backstory, death, blood, spit

Before Simon could trust you enough to pull up his mask, his kisses were always through the damn mask. It didn’t matter if the material scratched your skin or felt uncomfortable against your lips; nor did it matter if it leaves a dark damp spot around where his lips would be. He liked it even, leaving his mask on just to wear the smell of you like a cologne.  

He huffed like a quiet silent laugh when you pointed it out, said he was being weird.

He shrugged.

There was something strangely intimate yet frustrating in the way he’d insist on kissing you through the mask at every opportunity he got. To your surprise, he does, in fact, love kissing, maybe even too much.

Sometimes he would open his jaw before he kisses you, holding your chin in place so you can see the way the wool stretches opened, his eyes are half-lidded but they’re focused on you.

Like a beast showing his fangs, except you don’t see them.

You feel them.

It pulls against the fabric, itching and struggle to fight against the barrier of the mask, sharp pointy surfaces dragged along your skin. He unhinges his jaw far enough to devour your lips whole, love it when you gasp and tried to pull away, only for him to grip your neck, palm squeezing your waist like a silent warning.

He growls and rumbled deep in his chest, the vibration sending shivers down your spine, he makes sure you feel it, pressing his body close to you, and he drags his head up and down across your face, huffing and nibbling your skin, leaving a wet trail behind. 

Like a satiated wolf.

The day he finally lifted the mask to kiss you properly, you almost laughed from disbelief. For all the secrecy, for all the teasing his friends—the rowdy military bunch, his family, had thrown your way about the horrors his mask might conceal, his face was almost... ordinary. He looked like a regular bloke from Manchester, the kind you’d pass on the street without a second glance, often the ones who had the stare that makes your hair stand up. Sure, there were faint scars—a thin line across the bridge of his nose, a small nick on his forehead—but nothing like the grotesque imagery you’d imagined. His chin carried a hint of scruff, spiky and coarse, the kind that scratched against your skin when the angle was just a bit off. You stared at him, insulted by the simplicity of his appearance, and he gave you one of those smirk, the corners of his eyes crinkling as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Disappointed, darlin’?”

When Simon kissed you after months away on deployment, it was as if he’d been wandering a desert, parched and hopeless, finally stumbling upon an oasis, a fresh pond of sweet nectar. You don't get a warning before his lips crashed into yours with a force that bordered on desperation, his hands slipping through your hair, tugging and pulling gently as if to tether himself to reality. All groans and grunt, all growls and bites, pulling away, watching the strings of saliva connecting them. He kissed like the world might end the second he pulled away.

It would. Something in his head said. Voices buzzing, repeating, leaking out his ears, the syllabus tightening around his neck, mumbling something like they'll end up like you, like your mother, you're pulling them into death, always ruining the lives of others—

When he had his fill, when the adrenaline, the noises in his head quiet down enough, he leans down and lays a gentle peck on your forehead, purring something like an apology.

Indeed, there are other times when his kisses were featherlight, tentative, as though afraid he might break you, that he was handling a precious glass sculpture that was you. It was this maddening duality that made you dizzy—the gentleness of a man who’d seen too much pain, juxtaposed with the raw hunger of someone who’d been starved of touch, of sweet things like you. 

Then there was the peculiar way Simon fixated on your lower lip. You’ll know it when he pauses a few second too long, eyes blown out and his breath are slow and deep, heavy. He’d tug it gently into his mouth, rolling the soft flesh between his lips lazily. He’d hold your jaw, drifting his bare rough palm down the side of your jugular, squeezing, holding you still, guiding you into the position he wanted, breaking into a mean smile when you protest weakly and writhe around. Sometimes he’d suck on it like a pacifier, his tongue tracing its contour, making you squirm under his touch. Inevitably, saliva would gather and trickle down your jaw, but Simon never seemed to mind. 

“Makin’ a mess f’ me, hm?” He grumbled, like he didn’t spit on your lips just seconds ago, mixing your taste with his, slobbering, sticky and disgusting. 

Bastard, you think of him, the way he found a quiet kind of joy in this indulgence. Perhaps it was the way your lower lip would puff up, rosy and swollen, making you look extra pouty. Or maybe it was how your nose would scrunch in mild annoyance, your cheeks flushing under his teasing smirk. He loved riling you up, alternating between gently pulling your lip and giving it a playful bite, pulling it like a puppy with its favourite bone. His teeth would graze the tender flesh, leaving the faintest sting, just enough to make you gasp. He’d laugh at your reaction, his voice low and gravelly with a teasing lilt in his tone. For shits and giggles, he’d let you feel the faint scrape of his canines, murmuring something cheeky about marking you.

“My favourite chew toy.” he coos when you whined, clicking his tongue and tutting lowly, shaking his head before he goes back to biting your lips.

You try not to remember the feral glint in his eyes when he tasted copper one time, how he let out a guttural moan, licking away the red slowly, only stopping when you nudged him away.

You catch the same stare sometimes when he sunk his canine just a tad bit deeper, watching your reaction, as if waiting for your permission for him to draw blood again.

Maybe one day you’ll indulge.

[almondy-milk]

man, his date is a freak

this is actually a redraw of art i made like...3 months ago? og is below the cut for anyone interested

yes, it was inspired by the song 'red flags', it's literally them

[kirstydreaming]

Andreea Pontos & Natalia Amesina

[auti-starshine]

Yall I hate to break it to you but sometimes disability isn’t the most eco-friendly sustainable practices 100% ethically sourced thing.

I have no idea where the metal in my leg is from. Or where all of the surgical instruments or medications i’ve taken are from.

I can guarantee the knee brace I rely on, my cane, my (future) wheelchair, etc aren’t made in the best ways either.

I use single-use things. KT tape for my joints, individually packaged things, etc. I would love to use something more sustainable but that’s not an option for me.

In an ideal world some of this stuff could be better (like sourcing materials in a more ethical way), but some stuff wouldn’t change (needing single use products). Stop holding disabled folks to impossibly high standards, especially ones that majority of ableds can’t even live up to.

[infernal666combustion]

Tricia Helfer

[unstablestablegirl]

the first of a few drawings I’ve been working on of the starstable soul riders and ofc I had to start with my girl Linda 🌜