#Omg I'm so obsessed w this show yall

[eafee-drawsstuff]

*Cannibal by Ke$ha begins to play in the distance*

(you know I'm already obsessed w them)

[song-tam]

hi rosh this is ink on a new blog (i KNOW (i didn't WANT TO i was just head in hands about my enjoyment of certain fandoms taking a nosedive and suddenly i was here. this is me. i want to draw a lil tiger for a new icon but idk how to draw tigers yet lmao)) anyway i just wanted to send u an ask in disbelief. what do you MEAN 911 is seven seasons

INK !!!!! and no youre literally so real for that idk is it just me or has there been a collective negative downfall in fandom spaces recently?? like nothing big just a little. hm moment yknow. but yeah anyways i !!!!!!! love the new blog theme and the new url omg (AND TIGER ICON !!!! WOULD BE SO SICK)

anf YES 911 IS kinda super long BUT. its literally sosososo worth it i promise youd like totally be obsessed w it trust me on this (also sidenote i rlly love the whole bi buck thing getting ppl into the show now bc like. yall are in for it now. I'm so excited)

[dogstarblues]

Last Song I Listened To:

"You" by Tennyson! it's a sweet little song and i use it for my qpr-in-my-series playlist. "What's the point of that? I could be pressing flowers with you. Savor all this time rather than fret all afternoon. Take me from my thoughts, now would be riper than limes in June." so soft.

Last Book I Read:

The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle is the last book i finished. phenomenal book. absolutely wonderful on a craft level. It pushes the reader to question the role of a black main character in an american horror, pushes the reader to question what constitutes horror is for black americans, and in that push answers your question for you, delicately, carefully. Deserves all the praise it got. Recontextualizes one of the most racist lovecraft stories and shows the character of Black Tom's humanity even as Black Tom tries to leave humanity behind. also. sentence level? so fucking good. down to the sentence it's so good.

I'm currently in the middle of like 15 books but off the top of my head

Witch King by Martha Wells

Dreadgod by Will Wight

To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis

On the Shoulders of Titans by Andrew Rowe

The Future Is Disabled by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha which feels more like a manifesto than anything else so im not really getting as much out of it bc disabled people on tumblr have been talking about the contents of this manifesto since 2015 or earlier

The League of Gentlewomen Witches by India Holton

The Last Sun by K.D. Edwards

Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor

Way of the Hunter by Samer Rabadi

Female Masculinity by Jack Halberstam

Coming up, I'm doing a buddy read soon of The Black Shoals: Offshore Formations of Black and Native Studies by Tiffany Lethabo King with @markeyverse and a buddy read of The Cooking Gene: A Journey of African American Culinary History in the Old South by Michael W. Twitty with @toopunkrockforshul and a book club read of When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb

Last Thing I Watched:

Star Trek: The Next Generation. I simply don't Watch things these days, unless we count youtube, in which I have watched Drawfee's "Driving from Washington to Mexico for Charity" to cope with grief bc omg you do not need your brain for that. it's comforting. and also my roommate is obsessed with Azerbaijani Village Cooking Videos and points out different foods and how like the ones he grew up with they are and how they differ from Georgian and Russian preparation and consumption and he tells me the names of the food and what they taste like. so we watch that almost every night if i dont fall asleep first.

Current Obsession:

my own work tbh. my poetry, my fiction, my paintings. trying to get better. i suppose outside of that. hm. my interest is turning toward gay nuns as of yesterday with a Realization of christian religious trauma being more real than i thought. im looking at "Immodest Acts", "Lesbian Nuns: Breaking Silence", "Scorched Grace: A Sister Holiday Mystery", and im hoping "Sisters of Sorrow" is gay bc if its not what the fuck are you doing. but i cant delve into them all yet nor buy them yet. and im trying to prioritize my TBR.

i'm also reading eco-justice poetry/nonfiction, afrofuturist, transformative justice, disabled, and solarpunk literature for my solarpunk wip

Tags 8 people:

im tagging yall. no big if you dont wanna do the meme. im gonna go lay down now. sleepy.

@filthburgur @cadencekismet @mysanaf @vorellaraek @markeyverse @pacifistrun @outside-your-window @cassandors

[ohcaptains]

can i request being roommates with ed and him being a creep <3

omg shut up i'm soooo obsessed with this idea i'm willing to write more if yall want. 18+ as always.

(this is the quickest drabble ever, i just had to share)

i have this vision where your friends are like, who is this guy you're living with? and you're like, dude, i needed a roommate so...plus he's just quiet. quiet and cute, you'd called him one time, after you'd come home drunk from a night out and edward had thought about it for weeeekksss afterwards.

got off to it, thought about you leaning against the doorway in your party dress, strap hanging off your shoulder, drunken smile on your face as your eyes looked over his room.

he was sitting at his desk, eyes a deer's, caught in the headlights of your gaze.

you don't talk much, do you Ed?

ed,ed,ed,ed,ed,ed.

edward had slow blinked at you.

you're quiet, but cute.

or yeah, you come home from the gym. edward's in the laundry room, sorting his lights and darks, and you walk by, hi edward, and he'd looked up and saw you standing there, sweaty and messy, tight running leggings, tight lycra top.

you doing a wash? is it okay if i throw some of my stuff in there? i gotta head out.

okay sure. and when you leave, he's sitting at the washing machine, looking at your clothes mixed in with his clothes, looking at the damp clothes you were just wearing. notes the silence. remembers you shutting the door closed behind you.

Thinks, I can’t, but does it anyway because it’s just him. You won’t know. You will never know that he took the gym leggings you were just wearing and ran the fabric between his fingers, then ignored the pang of shame that washed through him. Embarrassment and shame, as he stuffed the fabric to his face and inhaled.

Or when he found some of your underwear stuck under the laundry basket. Stared at them. Heard you moving around the house, getting ready for another night out.

More washing?

You’d asked, coming round the corner, dressed in another one of your cute outfits. He thought, it didn’t matter how many men you spoke to tonight, you lived with him. You knocked on his door, did a little twirl and asked, what do you think? showing off how little fabric you were wearing.

Can you do the button? Turning around, Edward seeing the bare skin of your thighs, the way the fabric stretched over your ass, hips, going up and up and his fingers, damp and shaking, moving to attach the clip. Ran his fingers over the skin there, whispered, done.

Edward was done alright.

Because this time, he felt no shame as he hid your underwear with the basket, smiled his goodbye, and waited until he heard the door close. Felt no embarrassment, either, as he picked up your black panties and walked to his room, running the lace between his fingers, thinking about you picking them out, thinking about you sliding them on and wearing them all day.

His fingers were shaking, though, as he leaned back onto his pillows and pulled his sweatpants down. Breathing deeply, breath trembling as he palmed himself, hand clenching around his bulge. Thinking, fuck, thinking about you, pulling them up over your ass, wearing themwhile talking to him.

When? What day? Would you forget about them? God, he hoped so, cause he was growing attached to them and it had only been five minutes. Dangled them over his face as he pulled his dick out, whimpering as he smelled you and touched himself, gentle and delicate, trying to drag it out, but it was too good. Too good, as he balled the fabric together and stuffed it against his nose.

Moaned your name like it was actually you, started getting all desperate and pathetic as he tugged at himself quicker, body strewn out over his bed, boxers around his thighs and head thrown back. thought about using them to jerk off.

Maybe leave em at your door like a fucking gift or something, then thought, no, no, these are mine. Pulled them up and over his legs and thought, mine, as he smelt you on his face and worked himself over, whining as he came all over the cotton.