#blake stim

[blakesstimmies]

hewoo can u pwease make a pastel agere themed stimboard? :3

-🧩🎀

Agere pastel stimboard!

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅୧ ‧₊˚ 🩵🎀🧁⋅

[valentinesensory]

💛💜 bumbleby stimboard!! 💜💛

x.x.x/x.x.x/x.x.x

[soupiero]

caregiver daphne (scooby doo) for myself! 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 divi + der 0_o ⤷ 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 🍇

[holmesoldfellow]

Scenes from the opening credits for "The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes" (1970)

[blakesdoggo]

just tryna let you guys know..

i do have a agere/petre + stimboard blog!! its -> @blakesstimmies !

i will mostly be posting agere/petre tips, stuff, etc and also stimboards[i take requests aswell!]

so go check it out :p

[fruitypiestims]

F/O Stimboards #39 - Philip Blake/The Governor (Romantic)

🧟‍♂️ 🧟‍♂️ 🧟‍♂️ / 🧟‍♂️ 🧟‍♂️ 🧟‍♂️ / 🧟‍♂️ 🧟‍♂️ 🧟‍♂️

[stimcanto]

Bumbleby stimboard

With every smile you told me, "I love you"

(I am your dream, I love you)

🐝 x x | x x x | x x 🐝

[floatstimmies]

I am burning up inside. I don't know my own mind.

X | X | X

X | X | X

X | X | X

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[gummi-stims]

💜💚🧡Daphne🧡💚💜

From tubuslimes' Scooby Doo collection!

[meilia-stims]

Can you do a stimboard for the ship ladybug from rwby?

Ladybug (RWBY) stimboard for anon

🐞 🐞 🐞

🐞 🐞 🐞

🐞 🐞 🐞

[blakesstimmies]

dino stimboard? /nf

🦕dinosaur stimboard!🦖

[coolerspirithalloween]

a stimboard for victor blake with pink, red, and some lovecore stims, requested by ☎️ anon !!!!!

X X X X X X X X X

[proshippersstimming]

⚤ ⚤ ⚤ ⚤ ⚤ ⚤ ⚤ ⚤ ⚤

Daphne Blake x Shaggy (Norville) Rogers from Scooby Doo with purple and green colors as requested by an anon!

[agirlwithmagicpals]

Goblin gang aesthetic

another aesthetic inspired by @tomaturtles ocs I just love em so much🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎💚💚💚💚💚💚

[charlieartcorner]

I drew me and my boyfriends chat. Also I'm alive if anyone cares but yey throuple things :3

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Haircut

Alex Blake x autistic!fem!reader Warnings: some innuendo, implied smut, gender presentation struggles, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.6k

Summary: You get a dramatic new haircut, and you're scared of what your girlfriend will think of it.

You sat awkwardly in the chair, tapping your foot, as the barber observed your hair from behind.

“All of it?!” they asked, raising their eyebrows at you. “You’re sure?”

You nodded quickly. “Every time I say I want it cut short, I end up with like a short bob or some other girly cut. I keep telling them I want it short, like a boy’s, but… that’s never what I end up with.”

The barber nodded. “I feel you. So…” They moved forward to frame your head. “I’m gonna take it in pretty tight on the sides and back with clippers, but I’m gonna leave you some length on top so you can fluff it up with product or style it up front like bangs, that kind of thing. Sound good?”

“Definitely,” you confirmed, smiling quickly. “That sounds great.”

You took a deep breath and looked in the mirror as they draped the cape over you and clipped it at the back of your neck. You heard the clippers buzz to life and met the barber’s eyes in the mirror.

“Ready?” they asked, holding them just an inch from your head.

“Do it.”

And that was it. Years of long hair, gone. You felt both giddy and terrified. On the one hand, you felt more and more yourself watching the hair come off your head. But on the other hand, it was a big change in your appearance. What would Alex think?

She always told you she didn’t care what you did with your hair but, well, you’d never done this. And then an awful thought struck you: did people play with short hair? You hated the feeling of your hair against the back of your neck, hated it getting caught, getting in the way, but you loved the feeling of Alex playing with your hair. Loved it when she’d run her hands through it and scratch her fingernails against your scalp. It was enough to put you to sleep some nights.

The barber touched up the lines of your sideburns and the fade at the back of your head, trimming the top so it laid just perfectly over your head. You’d never been to a barber shop before, but you’d been so frustrated by the girlishness of the salons, you finally caved and found a queer-friendly barber shop here in DC. You’d had high hopes that someone at a barber shop would listen to what you really wanted with your hair, not just what they thought you should want. And from the looks of things, your hopes were being validated.

“The cut comes with a hot towel shave, if you want,” the barber said as they finished up.

“Oh, uh…” you stumbled. “I mean, I don’t have a beard.”

“For the back of your head and neck?” the barber clarified, smiling a little.

You blushed, embarrassed not to understand the lingo of the barber shop.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you said, bobbing your head. “That’d be great.”

You wished you could bottle up the experience–the refreshing warmth of the towel, the cool brush of cream, the way the back of your head felt perfect afterward. And you did bottle it up in your mind to tell Alex. You wanted her to know how great the hot towel shave was, how much girls were missing out on.

When the barber spun you around in your chair, when you could finally run your hands over the soft, shaved down at the back and sides of your head, you smiled wide, holding your hands at your side so you wouldn’t stim too obviously.

You beamed. “It’s perfect! Thank you so much!”

You tipped the barber generously and made another appointment; apparently with hair this short, you needed to get it cut every month.

Now to wait for Alex. You didn’t know why you were so nervous. You loved Alex and she loved you. You tried to put yourself in her shoes. If Alex cut all her hair off, would you still love her? The answer was of course but also… you didn’t know that Alex would seem like herself without her long hair. It seemed like a part of her. You’d support if she wanted to cut it, of course, but it might take some getting used to. Maybe your hair would take Alex some time to get used to as well. If that was the worst thing that happened, you supposed you could live with it.

You’d been living with Alex for a little over two months now and, for the most part, had loved it. But you weren’t used to sharing your space or so much of your time. You loved having Alex around, of course you did, but it was hard learning not to be performative with her. With most people, even Alex to a certain extent, you felt like you were performing personhood, like if you said the right things and acted the right way, people would like you. You’d lowered your guard enough around Alex to know that she liked the not-so-palatable parts of you, as well, but it had taken a long time for you to let your walls down.

For the first few weeks you’d exhausted yourself trying to make conversation all the time, trying to behave the way you did on a date 24/7. Until finally Alex had put down her book one evening, taken your face in her hands, and said, “Darling girl, I am happy to hear whatever you have to say, but if you don’t want to say anything, your presence is just as sweet as your voice.”

You’d curled up at her side and read and not said a word except “I love you” for the next several hours. It wasn’t that your voice had completely turned off in the relationship, rather that Alex had given you the freedom to use it naturally, which was better for both of you.

So when you heard the door open and shut that evening, your voice snuck down into your chest and you could tell, just from the feel of it, the weight, it was going to be hard to get it back out again tonight. You were just so used to making yourself palatable and you knew that, for a girl, hair like this wasn’t palatable. So much of the way you dressed, the way you acted, the way you were wasn’t palatable to most people. Alex accepted so much of you… what if this was a step too far?

You pulled your sweatshirt hood over your head, hoping to hide what you’d changed for just a few more minutes.

“Hi, my darling girl,” Alex said, stretching as she put her go-bag down and kicked off her shoes. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet her eyes, even as your heart surged to see her, to have her back home. Your hands shook by your sides, and you knew it was irrational how terrified you were, but you couldn’t help it.

“Quiet day today?” she asked, sitting next to you on the couch. “You usually have so much to say when I get back from a trip.”

When you didn’t answer, didn’t even look at her, she frowned, starting to worry. She gently took your face in her hands and turned it toward her, eyebrows shooting up when she felt the short hairs at the side of your head.

“Hey,” she said softly. “What’s this?”

Alex slowly pulled the hood off your head and ran her hands along the shaved sides and back of your head. Her eyes were wide, and you couldn’t quite read them.

“You really cut your hair,” she observed, her fingers against your scalp feeling just as nice as they always did.

Your voice felt almost rusted as you forced it out, quiet and hoarse. “Do you like it?” You were scared to hear the answer.

Alex smiled, letting her fingers roam through your hair before grasping the sides of your head and kissing you, running her thumbs through your short, fuzzy sideburns.

“Sweet girl, I love it. It suits you so well.” She turned your head this way and that, as if to get a better look. “You look beautiful.” She pursed her lips, bending a little so you finally had to meet her eyes. “You look like you.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” you whispered.

“No, darling,” she reassured you. “I don’t just say things. You know that.”

This time, you kissed her, though not very successfully–you couldn’t stop smiling.

When you pulled away, she grabbed your collar. “No, no, hang on!” she exclaimed. “I need a proper make-out. I want to run my hands through your hair some more. The texture is intoxicating.”

And you were happy to oblige, even happier to oblige given that Alex truly couldn’t keep her hands out of your hair, tracing patterns into the shaved down as your lips roamed her mouth, her neck, as you pushed her gently into the couch, your hands under her shirt against the soft, warm skin of her abdomen.

“Hey,” she protested, giggling, as your hands made their way to her chest. She brushed your bangs out of your face, looking at you with so much love you wondered how you ever could have doubted her. “Why don’t you take me to bed, darling?”

And you didn’t even need your voice for Alex to understand you, for her to see how much you loved her, how much it meant to you that she loved you for you. You clambered to your feet and held out your hand to help her up, pulling her to your side and kissing the bottom of her chin. And as you led her to the bedroom, there were no words needed.