#idk what to tag this as if you see it you see it

[unknownati]

xii. never lose me

a/n: (i lost the ask so sorry to that anon, hope u still find this 💀 but the ask was like: can you make a fic based off never lose me by flo milli? with smut)

happy new year my loves!

sorry this took so long im such a slow writer. plus im braindead asf. ik i said i had to proofread this in my last post but i lied i didnt 😬

nooobody ask me where he got all this money cuz baby idk. i hope some of this stuff is correct bc i am not rich 😭

warnings/tags: smut 👻, fem!black!reader, no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features BUT reader dresses feminine (think aliyahsinterlude), modern!ekko, boat sex yay, semi-public(?), risky, backshots 🎉, oral (e! recieving), reader getting spoiled, soft dom!ekko, so loosely inspired by the song, not proofread. raw vibe

_______________________________________________

ekko goes above and beyond treating you right.

anything you want, all yours. that new purse? check your mailbox. you need your nails done? here's $300, keep the change, don't worry about it. he always makes sure you're pleased, even if you don't ask. he knows everything about you by heart. favorite flowers, favorite foods, plus your usual orders, so it's not uncommon to come home to food on the table with a fresh vase of florals seated next to it.

of course, nothing about this relationship was ever one sided. there is no one who prances around announcing that ekko is your man quite like you do. you make sure ekko knows that if he ever needs you, no matter what, you're there.

in return, you get whatever you want.

"ekko," you sing, putting your phone down in the cup holder. your hand rests over ekko's, which has a gentle grip on your thigh. crickets chirp outside, veiled beneath the dark sky and lack of light. you're speeding down an empty backroad on your way back home from a little shopping spree at a mall an hour and some change away. "i wanna go somewhere."

he hums. "where were you thinking?"

"dunno yet," you lean your weight onto the center console, maybe somewhere in asia."

"yeah?" he asks, squeezing the fat of your thigh. you smile wide. "sure. let me know when you decide."

"i will, thanks baby," you chirp, gently pulling his hand up your thigh and closer to your center. his fingers catch on the hem, pushing your denim skirt up and gently pressing his thumb into your clit. he's rubbing featherlight circles into it, running over the lacy underwear he bought for you a while back. your gasp is barely heard beneath the music.

the engine whirrs, and you see the speedometer shoot up.

so impatient.

.:*☆

it truly didn't take long for ekko to book that flight. you said the place, and about 30 minutes later everything was set in stone.

excitement rushed through your body as you packed, making sure to tuck your matching sets beneath your clothes. he deserved some type of reward, right?

when you finally arrived at your hotel, late into the night, jet-lagged to all hell, you couldn't help but ask ekko if he needed some help. he did everything, all you did was walk around, complain about your feet hurting a bit, and cling to his arm. regardless, he insisted you worried about nothing and just got comfy for the night because he had something big planned tomorrow.

never would you have ever guessed that you'd end up on a cruiser yacht.

he had you blindfolded after you returned to the hotel from eating and shopping, promising that you'd love it and that you just needed to be patient and trust him. you did; no hesitation there.

and once he slipped it off after your minor freak-out wondering what you're stepping onto that has to be so wobbly, it took your breath away.

the sun sinks below the horizon, yellow rays glittering off of the water. your hands met his, perched on your hips, looking back to find his prideful grin.

"ekko..." you pout.

"iii know, i'm a great boyfriend, you love me, i know," he jokes, chuckling as you walk around the cockpit, marveling the fact that you're on one. "it'll leave soon, there's a cooler with drinks, and i can take pictures for you."

you smile wide. "my personal photographer. in fact, take some of me right now before the sun sets," you rush to hand him your phone, quickly posing yourself in front of the scene.

ekko took taking photos for you so seriously, genuinely telling you how to switch your posing and expression, and without missing a beat always hyping you up to the third degree.

so when you heard nothing from ekko, no 'oooh's or 'mhm's, you turned to him.

"ekko?"

"sorry, you're just..." he laughs sheepishly, avoiding your gaze as if he wasn't the key to your heart. "so pretty."

you roll your eyes. "you're so corny."

the tone of your voice completely betrayed your words, honeyed and bashful. he catches it, shaking his head and raising the camera again.

"right—okay, let's try this again."

.:*☆

the pictures came out great. you wanted to wait until you got home to pick your favorites to post, but all of them were so good that you didn't know which one to pick.

you leaned against the railing, staring out into deep night, city lights twinkling in the distance. the cool sea breeze rushes against your skin, the salty scent of the ocean flooding around you. it was too good of an opportunity to not take more.

"ekko, take a few more for me?"

he hums, not a moment of protest, finding your phone and settling into the seat opposite of you.

you take your seat as well, your torso twisted and legs crossed. his mouth opens—'move your leg a little' rests on his tongue, until he inspects your gaze through the phone. you weren't quite looking at the camera, but rather...behind it.

"you okay?"

you nod. "yeah...you look good as fuck over there."

he fumbles over his words for a moment, looking down at his attire. "in my spiderman shirt?"

"mhm, especially in your spiderman shirt," you look him up and down, eyes sliding over his muscles. "come back over here real quick?"

he's surprised he didn't trip from how quickly he scrambled over to you, sitting in the seat beside you. his smile is poorly hidden as you crawl into his lap. his hands find your waist, pulling you closer.

you direct his face up, fingers gently pushing at his chin, leaning down to lock your lips together.

his hands roam your body—clearly too impatient—fingers pushing beneath your shirt, pulling up and revealing your bra. intricate lace, almost in a floral pattern, dyed a dusty pink that was barely visible under the moonlight. the cups had a deep cut, plunging down from your collar bone to the bottom of your sternum with a dainty little decorative bow.

you literally feel him getting hard. he looks up, fingers running along the band. "this for me?"

"sure is." you nod, reaching down to tug your skirt down. the hem of your matching panties peek out. "you like 'em?"

"do i?" he glances above the short barrier at the captain, who isn't paying an ounce of attention. just humming in his own world, only focused on the path they were going on. perfect.

"shit..." his lips reconnect with yours before trailing down, sucking hickies into your skin, tightly squeezing your thighs, brows furrowing.

you can already tell he's going to find a way to seat you right on his face so you stop him—not because you don't want that, but you've been spoiled enough for one day—pushing his shoulders back and getting off of him.

he looked like a kicked puppy when you separated from him and you just roll your eyes, sinking down onto your knees with a wide smile. it all connects for him and he relaxes against the seat, lips parting as you quickly unbutton his pants, your nail hooking at the band of his trunks. you tug, down, down, down, until his dick springs free and lightly taps his naval.

you waste no time, your lips meeting the base, then parting to let your tongue run up a vein that lead you to the sensitive tip.

ekko shivers, eyes shifting from the arch in your back to your lips, leaving glossy stamps all along his length.

you, on the other hand, kept your eyes locked onto his. he kept averting his gaze. for what, you weren't sure. but you tapped his tip against your tongue, capturing his attention. finally, his eyes meet yours. now you feel like you can continue.

you kiss the tip again, smiling up at him as you allow it to breach your lips, sliding into your mouth agonizingly slow.

"fuuuck," he drags, watching you slowly sink down, taking almost all of it yet stopping where your lips met your fingers.

you get acquainted with the feeling, adjusting your tongue to press against the skin. your cheeks hollow, your head slowly falling into a bobbing movement, stroking him alongside your movements.

he struggles to not thrust straight up into your mouth, gripping the edge of the leather cushions. one hand meets the back of your head but doesn't push or pull, just rests there.

his hips twitch, torso relaxing against the back of the seat, growing rigid whenever your tongue ran across just the right spot. his chest rises and falls rapidly, quickly drawing in breaths then moaning them right out.

your jaw already started to ache, but looking up at him as he falls apart from just your mouth is beyond worth it. he shakes his head, eyes leaving yours, squeezing shut, and you can tell he's already close.

his hand leaves your head, forearm laying against his forehead. you tap him, a reminder. look at me. he peeks down, a breathy chuckle pushing through.

"doin' so good for me, yeah? 'm close—" he warns you—you nod in acknowledgment.

you unhinge your jaw, sticking your tongue out so he can watch his cum spill all over it,

he sucks air in through his teeth, and before you know it you're bent over the seat, looking out onto the horizon. you start to speak and he just shushes you, tugging your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side. soaked.

maybe you were just too impatient, because before he could even get comfortable you were reaching back to put it in. his laugh rings behind you, shooing your hand away so he can finish sinking all the way inside you.

his pelvis meets your ass and you almost caught a glimpse of the back of your skull. he started slow, gripping your waist and bringing you back to meet his strokes.

you're squeezing around him so tight, and all he can do is stare in awe at it. his length glistens, coated in your juices. then he couldn't take it, his pace quickening, watching the fat of your ass recoil against his movements.

it feels euphoric, almost unreal. staring out into the night sky, stars twinkling above you, ocean swaying below you, and ekko thrusting into your heat, moaning behind you—it was overwhelming, it had your flesh running hot.

"feels good?" he questions, though your gasps and mewls answer loud and clear.

"fuck, yes."

"mhm, you're mine, right?"

"a-all yours." you nod.

"all mine?" he asks, and it's rhetorical. not like you could reply anyway, because your moans caught in your throat, rendering any chance you had at words useless.

your noises drowned beneath the whirring of the motor paired with the water swaying beneath you, which you're endlessly grateful for. you're lucky that driver pays almost no attention to what's happening behind him.

you were especially loud, and it only got worse as you felt your orgasm building. ekko knew it too, the way your voice shook, the way you tightened around him, the way you begged him not to stop—it was pushing him over the edge too.

"fuck, that's it. just like that. i got you, okay? good."

your cries overlap ekko's softer groans as you came, your form trembling, jolts of pleasure coursing throughout your body as he fucked you through it.

he had to hold back from coming inside you, letting you ride out your high before pulling out to release all over your back.

he gives you no time to recover, immediately diving in for another round, intoxicated with the way you gasps caught in your throat, holding onto the seat for dear life.

he leans down, his lips meeting your shoulder, his brows furrowed. it did not take long for the two of you to get close again, still sensitive from your previous release. within a few minutes, your juices coat his length and another load lands on your back, seeping down and settling into the dip of your spine.

you're both catching your breath, ekko presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, and you have to stop him from kissing you more. "we're almost there," you hiss, and he huffs, lifting off of you to get himself together,

thank god there were paper towels on board. he cleans his release off of your back and skirt, managing to get the both of your appearances together by the time the yacht met the docks.

the moment the captain comes back to thank you for riding with him, ekko's giving him the quickest thank you possible along with his tip and rushing you off of the boat.

"let's get back to the room? i just wanna see that set you have on a little better."

you know that the second that door closes behind you in the hotel, there is not a chance you'll be stopping.

__________________________________________

pssst!: not the most confident in this one.,. i will make up for this one i swear 😔 locking in!

maybe a part 2 with what happens at the hotel cough cough

[alittlebitofloveliness]

I think so many of the issues between book fans vs musical fans in the fandom come from the fact that people are pretending they're the same story, so people get really upset when they see one of their favourite characters being mischaracterized or left out, when in reality they are two DIFFERENT stories that share the same SOURCE MATERIAL. Like, I love the book. My blog is very much focus around the book, and there is a reason I don't tag my content with the musical tag very often, because the Darry Curtis I'm writing about is NOT the same Darry Curtis from the musical. And that's okay! It is! I know it seems crazy but they're both great characters, they're just not the SAME character. My favourite character is Steve Randle, but I haven't thrown a shit fit about how he isn't included as much in the musical because it's a different story, and because what content does exist for musical Steve offers lore for a very interesting character. Just like some people get all upset about blogs and content focusing on the soc characters in the musical, and I'm like I don't know what to tell you, I haven't even seen the musical and I know that the socs play a more important role in the story the musical tells than they do in the book; and that the musical universe makes it so it's far more likely that the socs and greasers COULD potentially have more aquaintanceships/childhood friendships/ post adolescent relationships than the book in which Ponyboy consistently notes that neither the greasers nor socs as a whole can see past their way of life to see the other side as people. Idk, I just think people from the book fandom and musical fandom need to just accept they're different stories, with different characters, with DIFFERENT messages and themes. Like, you really can't mischaracterise a character when the character that's being 'mischaracterized' is a different character to start with. Musical Dally isn't book Dally, full stop, but that doesn't mean that the musical character isn't fleshed out and deep and interesting and a complex addition to the musical, just like it doesn't cheapen the fact that book Dallas is the centre of the story. They just serve a different purpose, because they're two different characters in two different stories, neither one is 'better' than the other because they're NOT the same thing. I just wish people would stop vaugeposting and hating and othering each other, and it's getting the point where people need to learn to either engage with both stories or use filters to curate their fandom experience, OR collectively decide to split into two separate fandoms and tag stuff the outsiders book vs the outsiders movie accordingly, because I really love the Outsiders but all the petty fighting is driving me crazy , it's exhausting and it's making me want to leave the fandom altogether and I highly doubt I'm the only one. In the nicest way possible, please examine both stories for what they are, be mature, and act accordingly. Please.

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][semi-public][idk man, feet? Like, she does some things but not with her dawgs out][handjob][nipple play][standing sex][unprotected sex][blowjob][implied snowballing]

"Why are you mewing?"

"What?"

Your question breaks Kento's reverie, that little bubble in which he is optimally productive and narrowed eyes raise to meet your gaze.

You look like the picture of leisure.

A pen spinning idly on your nimble fingers, your elbow resting on your desk and the plethora of colourful pens you'd stuck in your hair in an attempt to get Kento to smile. You have yet to succeed at that, but you pay it no mind, shifting closer to your desk, the wheels of your chair scuff against the linoleum floors and you rest both elbows on your desk.

"Mewing." You repeat. "The model thing?"

You elaborate vaguely and you watch as those thin, blonde brows crease into a frown, upper lip curling in distaste at the fact that you keep teaching him urban slang without his consent.

"I don't need to mew."

Kento dismisses, slender fingers moving through his sandy blonde strands, not even tousling them in an unattractive way, and you let out a whistle.

"Not you flexing your face card." You tease and you feel a sick sense of fulfillment when he lets out that heavy sigh, removing his freaky glasses and pinching the bridge of his perfect (and rideable) nose.

"I hate that I know what those words mean." Kento complains, before tugging on his tie, loosening the knot up just a bit.

"You look tired." You hum softly. "Your eyebags are heavier than usual. Overtime?"

"Another Curse." He responds lazily, slumping the tiniest bit against the back of his chair and Kento lets out a heavy groan.

"I want to quit."

The words aren't unusual when it's Kento. He's a man who loves complaining about things, and you're already fishing in your bag for your second lunch box, sliding it across the surface of your desks. He takes it, without hesitance, opening it up and picking up the sandwich, raising it to his mouth to take a generous bite.

Mayonnaise rests at the corners of his mouth but you don't hesitate to lean over, wiping away the messes with your thumb.

And Kento's lips quirk into a smile at the action.

'Wife' isn't a term everyone gives to anybody, and 'friend' isn't a term he'd give anybody.

But you somehow manage to be both. Except wife, but you're a variant: his workwife.

You behave just like a wife would. Greeting him with a coffee every morning, despite the fact that he gets his own on his way to work but always orders an extra small so that he can see the smile on your face when you slide that '#1 Husband' cup across his desk.

You listen to him complain, occasionally straighten his tie that he's left intentionally crooked just to feel the brushes of your fingertips against his skin.

And it's the little quirks.

When you work hard, you're so focused. Everytime he passes by your desk on his way to the bathroom, he sticks one of your colourful pens into your hair and it's gotten to the point where Kento just goes to the bathroom, because he wants to see the way your face tugs with confusion whenever you redo that bun and your stationery clatters to the floor.

You pack him in lunches, you talk to him all the time despite the fact that sometimes, he'd like to hear you talk with your mouth full.

Kento remembers important dates, like your birthday, your parents' anniversary, the day you found whatever stray you managed to find a home for and your doctor's appointments (which he schedules for you).

He buys little trinkets, small baubles that remind him of you and you do the same. Kento's desk has a little ornamental seashell that you gave him when you visited the beach in your hometown. Your desk has a little ornamental Big Ben replica from Kento's trip to London to get rid of a Curse.

"Kento?" Your voice brings him back, but so does the sight of your manicured fingers, snapping in front of his face. "Ken? You okay?"

Ken.

Ken.

Ken.

The sound of your voice calling him that, so soft and so sweet, makes it even harder to conceal the large bulge in the front of his slacks and Kento clears his throat.

"Hm? Yes, I'm fine. Just thinking."

You know better than to ask, so instead, you do what you always do. Your kitten heel bumps against Kento's dress shoe, in a small act of almost childish affection and Kento's tuts you.

"You shouldn't be wearing heels for too long."

A muscular hand grasps your ankle, carefully undoing the buckle and he slides your heel off. One foot at a time, and he rests your one foot in his lap, while absentmindedly massaging the arch, his thumbs enjoying the feel of the pantyhose against his finger pads.

"You know, I have no idea how you're not married or at least, seeing someone." You state, your toes curling with each press of Kento's thumb to your foot, easing aches you didn't even know were there.

"No woman would be okay with the fact that her partners goes to work and massages another woman's feet." Kento hums, eyes lowered to your feet as he presses, the sight of your manicured toes shielded by semi-transparent hosiery isn't something he thought he needed to see.

But God, was he wrong.

He likes that your toenails are the prettiest shade of nude, so lovely with your complexion. Manicured, trimmed, filed, perfect.

"Then maybe don't massage my feet?" You suggest, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch Kento with a bored, almost lovey stare.

He's a gorgeous man.

Small, hazel eyes, thin eyebrows (they're natural, you asked), perfect hair and a perfect body. But you're not too focused on his body when it comes to his jaw.

A jawline so sharp it could cut glossy wrapping paper without a single fault.

"No." Kento's voice brings you to the forefront of your mind and you let out a laugh, lowering your feet from his lap and setting them on the lush carpet beneath your feet. And you lean over, cradling Kento's face in your hands and you don't miss the way his expression softens the tiniest bit.

Brows relaxing, jaw unclenching and you brush your thumbs across his cheekbones.

"You're too perfect for this world."

Kento's barely even there, working on documents like he's on autopilot, muscular hands scribbling details into blocks and he occasionally pauses to push up his goggles. And you can't help it.

Brushing your foot up his calf, and.... Nothing.

Light work, no reaction.

Your foot shifts, trailing up Kento's thigh and only when your foot reaches where you assume the leg of his boxers would end, do his eyes lift to meet your stare.

"Yes, wife?" He hums and you feel that tingle in your stomach. He calls you that like it's your name and it makes your ears itch in only a way your ankles can scratch.

"No, nothing." You shake your head. "Just wanted to see you get nervous."

"Won't work, try harder."

Kento's eyes lower back to the stack of paper in front of him, a new challenge being brought to the front of your braincell and you act boldly.

Placing your foot right over his bulge.

His really hard, really big bulge. And you swallow, eyes widening and Kento doesn't even glance up at you.

"Didn't think it through, did you?" He teases and you shake your head. "I did not."

But when you move to move away your foot, Kento's hand grasps your ankle in a pretty firm grip, and his free hand just continues to page through the stack.

And he keeps your foot there.

"Finish what you started."

The closet is stuffy, the fluorescent light is intense and it makes sweat accumulate on the back of your neck, droplets dribbling down into the collar of your shirt but you don't notice it.

Of course you don't. Not when Kento's tongue is in your mouth, his hands resting on your waist, thumbs brushing against the curve of the underside of your breasts and his cock, fucking into your hand at the slowest, most painstaking pace.

Kento's big.

Long, thick, with the prettiest little tuft of hair just above his base. He's a neat man, but he's a messy man, beads of precum sliding down his shaft, wetting your palm and making the most obscene sound that echoes in the quietness of the supply closet.

Boxes and boxes surround you. Standard office supplies, sticky notes in every colour, boxes of highlighters and gel pens adjusted to be comfortable for the grip of an office worker. Japan really is ahead of it's time when it comes to stationery, but the thought leaves your mind when Kento kisses your neck.

He's gentle, and slow, but his hands make light work of your blouse, lowering his head to press a kiss to that delicate little 'v' between your clavicles and he shudders out a breath.

"Your hands feel so good...."

Kento breathes out, his thumbs brushing over your nipples until they form stiff peaks, painfully hard and just... Begging for attention from his soft, warm tongue.

"But you take such good care of your hands." He adds softly, pressing kisses along the swell of your breasts, soft tits to adorn with kisses and gentle lovebites that'll leave bruises for only your eyes.

And hopefully his.

"I like your manicure." Kento sighs quietly. "Is that with the money of our bet?"

You only nod your head. You're not able to do much when his warm fingertips are tugging so teasingly on your nipples, your head tipping back against a shelf and you let out a panted breath.

Your hand strokes him just a bit faster, your wrist having the slightest bit of torsion as you work his already weepy cock, squeezing your hand the tiniest bit tighter when you get to the tip.

The flushed, pink and rosy tip, crying thick beads of precum, twitching with each movement you make.

You're barely focused on the pens that clatter out of your hair, tumbling to the floor when Kento lifts you from the cool tiles, guiding your legs to wrap around his narrow waist.

A hole is easy to rip into your nylons, and you're pulling your panties to the side with hazy eyes and a fuzzy brain, and your body turns to a flurry of static when he slides into you.

You're so warm.

So wet and so so tight, Kento buries his face in your neck as he shifts you in his arms. He's so happy you're not wearing that pencil skirt, instead, he gets to watch the fluttering mauve fabric of your skirt slide down your thighs and rest at the crease of your hips, while his forearms hook beneath your knees.

Kento fucks into you like a man with all the time in the world. Cock dragging against your gummy insides, nudging at your cervix with the cutest, lingering pecks. All as Kento's lips find purchase around one of your taut nipples, suckling and dragging his tongue along the bud.

Your nerves are tingling.

Your fingers card through his hair, nails digging into the back of his neck and Kento's warm breaths brush across your skin, doing nothing to ease the goosebumps that spatter across your flesh. And you whine, a low sound that echoes through the room and your hips roll to meet each of Kento's thrusts.

And a low groan leaves his lips, shifting you a bit more and he begins to move you. Up... Down... Up... Down...

The repetitive motion and the delightful tingle that makes your toes curl in your heels, the scratch of his fuzzy pubic bone brushing against your clit is one of the leading sensations that make your brain glitch.

"You're tighter than I imagined."

Kento breathes out, peeking up at you from between your breasts, and that's... That's what gets you.

Fluttering walls spasm around Kento's cock, trickling liquids dribbling down his cock as your hips buck and twitch. He kisses you.

Deep and long, like his strokes, and Kento's tongue drags against the roof of your mouth. He drinks your moans like sweet nectar, swallowing each breath and sound like they're heaven themself.

You're on your knees in front of Kento before you know.

You can see he's close. The way he twitches, flushed crown dripping onto your tongue before your lips wrap around his tip, your hands following in suit. Your thighs are still shaking when you're sucking his cock, hands stroking him in tandem.

Clockwise, anticlockwise, up and down.

You feel Kento's fingers carding through your hair, keeping your head in place as he grips the shelf above him with such desperation that you can hear the wood splinter.

Kento's hips stutter when he comes.

Shooting warm pulses of cum into your warm, wet mouth, painting your tongue in that pretty pearlescent fluid that tastes distinctly like.... Cinnamon and pineapple.

"Don't swallow." Kento whispers softly, guiding you to your feet and his body presses against yours, his hand coming to cup your cheek while the other rests on the curve of your hip.

"Spit it back in my mouth, wife."

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image IDs: Image #1: Bluesky post from shanley tucci (@/ markpopham.bsky...) reading: Raw milk is one of those ideas that can really only take hold when people haven't seen a cow. if you see a cow from let's say ten feet or less you immediately understand the problem that pasteurization is solving

Image #2: Tumblr tags reading: #they're dirty but you first clean them before milking?? #idk when i was a kid we used to drink milk right after my aunt milked her cows #it was warm and delicious #my uncle has a farm currently and always gives us a bottle of milk that was not boiled #even in the market u can buy unpasteurised milk? #im confused what this post is about #yall need to touch some grass (on a farm ideally) #shh yzz #milk /End IDs]

[percyweasleyapologist]

yall i just had a random fic idea

okay it's kinda angsty so my bad

It's the chamber of secrets year- so 6th year for percy i think? and we all know that Penny canonically gets petrified? but what if she actually died? like what if instead of everything else happening after- they find her body quick enough but instead of her being petrified, she's dead.

Anyways, her and Percy could be best friends or dating, (both ways work, i kinda prefer best friends because i feel like it makes this worse??). But he's prefect so he doesn't even find out for a bit and then when he does he then has to immediately go back and deal with anll of gryffindor and his brothers. And he just had to act like he's fine.

And so we see him slowly breaking down but pretending to be fine, if you wanna incorporate perciver or some other similar ship you could have that person realizing something's wrong and he just starts sobbing.

And then i just imagined one scene where it's either at her funeral or they're taking her body away or something and he has to be dragged away screaming bc he won't leave her and he's in denial. And everyone thought he was fine but suddenly he's crashing out in front of everyone.

Before then- he's kind of a shell but no one notices. And they just think he's heartless and stuff because he's not outwardly showing his emotions.

There could also be a scene where someone (probably his mum idk) is berating him for not comforting his siblings more.

uhhh yeah, that's kinda it lol. it's not a fullly formed idea but i thought someone may like it?

oh also i though of it while listening to "The Subway" by chappell roan and i feel like that is the kind of theme or vibe i envision for it- especially the "She's got, she's got a way She's got a way, she's got a way"

idk

tagging some people who may like this?: @birdiebirdjay @guess1mjustheren0w @elisedonut @sarkylittlemonster @aeoneskova

@armadilloradio @winn-wynn

[fizzyboy]

Questions regarding Dandys Wasteland-

1. Would me designing a cannibal esque character in your AU bother you

2. When mimics die, do they leave behind anything solid/edible (idk if you've gone over it before)

3. If you ARE alright with it, would you like to be tagged if I ever make a small comic with my character eating a dead mimic (if it leaves anything behind)?

4. Do toons need to eat or consume anything for energy in ur AU

Also, I'm really super sorry if these questions creep you out/ make you uncomfortable :[

Ha. Cannibalism.

Anyways, no, I don't care about the idea. Do what ya want.

Second, typically no. Mimics usually melt into puddles of ichor when they die, and when they don't, their insides are still full of the stuff with underdeveloped organs.

Third, fucking of course I want to see that shit.

Finally, yeah, the toons need to eat. Why else would they scavenge for food, water, and othernthings?

[fl0ralsxgar]

Okay... So im going to make one post about this and one post only.

Ive been having issues in this community because of who i self ship with, thats a very vague way of putting it. Ive been made aware of a situation directly that has both equally caused me to get hate and ive noticed some mutuals of mine ignoring me more ever since it started. Under the cut since this is a long post

Okay just to start off first; clearly this must be a burner or something because going to this account directly, its the default tumblr blog theme with no posts or edited bio or anything. Im not going to respond to hate asks anymore, okay? I shouldnt in the first place but usually i tried to address them just a little, mostly wanting to understand why i was being sent it in the first place, my fault. But still. (I still blocked out the user just in case) just to note, this is not the only hate ive been sent in asks lately. I had to cut anon off again. But ig people will still find workarounds.

Okay. I DO NOT. want to cause ANY discomfort, jealousy, negative feelings, etc, just because of who i self ship with. Im sorry its made people uncomfortable because they share the same f/o but i do what i can to ensure they dont see me. I use the same exact tag on my self ship art and gushes and whatever, i dont interact with them, i have them BLOCKED or vice versa, hell i even try to not interact with their mutuals unless if weve already established being mutuals. I even have directly said- if anyone who follows me is mutuals with someone else who is uncomfortable with people interacting with me (or other daisuke self shippers in general) then you dont need to interact with me, because above all else im TRYING to consider the comfort of other people. I have never once tried to make people forcibly side with me, i have never said anyone else is invalid because of their self ship, i have never wanted anyone to be excluded and even, i encourage people to be mutuals with other daisuke self shippers as i can block said daisuke self shippers and they can be given my tag if need be because everyone deserves support. This has been going on for longer than it needs to tbh, i kept thinking i was the issue, i wanted to leave, but now im just .. upset. Whether its all from the same person or not, idk. But please know that above all else causing anyone to feel negatively because of me has never been my intention. Ive been extremely stressed out over this, feeling guilty and horrible, and sometimes aggravated.

Dont vague post about me if you know your followers and mutuals know who youre referring to. And even then, dont do it without first explicitly making it known that you dont condone hate being sent, but ultimately even if you do say that it wont always stop people. Please stop sending me asks trying to invalidate my self ship when ive never done that to anyone else. If youre mutuals with someone who is not okay with you interacting with me then respect those boundaries, because i am super tired of having to deal with the backlash of things im not even trying to cause. I want everyone to be comfortable, i want everyone to feel safe in their own space. But also i dont even feel comfortable in my own space now. I really dont wanna leave the community again tbh, ive made some close mutuals, i love supporting people, i love making my own self ship art and sharing it. But man, im tired!

Ive tried SO hard to keep this in private. I wanted it to be resolved without public notice. But even after i thought it was settled and resolved it hasnt stopped, and i dont even know if its from various people or not. Only very few people know more deeply whats been going on, and i hate that they were affected because of it too in ways. Whatever is going, just, i want it to chill out. Really. I have no ill will for anyone. If you see this and youre someone who has an issue with me you can dm me, ill talk it out with you.

I truly hope none of this comes off wrong, or aggressive or anything. I mean everything with as much respect as i can considering my current state. No matter what i dont condone harassment. I dont want anyone to be excluded. I want everyone to be supported and happy in their space. So please just know that, and if anything has come off wrong let me know. Maybe, im just not thinking the clearest so some things might seem rude or something. Forgive me if that the case.

Theres been ALOT going on the self ship community and i hope everyone will be okay. Dont worry about this if its too stressful, but if youre someone whose involved in this, i want to work things out. So. Thanks for reading if you did. Take care

[sarahlancashire]

nine books for 2025

tagged by @elssbethtascioni to list nine books i plan to read in 2025, thank u sm <3

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid: i've been meaning to read this ever since i realised it featured an f/f relationship & decided i wanted it to be my first read of 2025, so i spent part of an amazon voucher i got for christmas on a physical copy! i'm a bit more than halfway through and i love it sm so far!!

sense and sensibility by jane austen: i worship jane austen, but the only book of hers that i've ever actually finished is pride and prejudice, so i really really want to finish the rest!! i figure this one is as good a place to start as any bc i already love elinor & marianne and see them as the two sides of my own soul

piranesi by susanna clarke: i heard about this book a few days ago and it sounds so interesting that i rly want to look into it

our wives under the sea by julia armfield: idk much about this book except it's a gay horror & i myself am a gay horror so i'm intrigued

nine perfect strangers by liane moriarty: ever since i read big little lies, liane moriarty can do no wrong in my book. i still haven't seen the tv series, partly bc i'm scared that it will somehow tarnish the book for me, bc the book is one of my most favourite pieces of media ever in the world. i've subsequently read truly madly guilty and apples never fall, neither of which i loved anywhere near as much, but still

convenience store woman by sayaka murata: idk why i want to read this. i just do. they say you can't judge a book by its cover, but i can and i will

why mummy's sloshed by gill sims: listen. LISTEN. i love why mummy drinks. i think it's one of the funniest books ever written. while none of the subsequent books in the series have been as good, it's still worth it, and i rly want to get up to date with them

the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy by douglas adams: does anyone else have those books that they've started a million times & enjoyed what they've read but never finished, this book is that for me. i am DETERMINED to finish it this time!!!

the bloody chamber by angela carter: similarly to the hitchhiker's guide, i've started this several times but never finished it, which seems wrong for my identity as a Gloomy Lesbian. angela carter u are the fucked up little fairy tale writer for me <3

tagging (if u want!! feel free to ignore!!) @alisonscotlock @juliewlters @moxyphinx @pea-green @electric-eccentricity @tevos @airesgay @lizmitches @buffonias @sealochs

[everlastingday]

i haven't written all week on account of starting a new job, getting sucked into an audiobook, and having to restart my crochet project, but here's a little bit of owen's intro from the survivor au!

thank you @annoyingcloudearthquake, @heartstringsduet, @thisbuildinghasfeelings, @carlos-in-glasses, @paperstorm, @bonheur-cafe, @whatsintheboxmh, @nisbanisba, @carlossreaders, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @emsprovisions, and @futures-tense for the tags! i still have to go through and read them all and reblog but i will, i promise! 💜

--

Owen sizes up his own tribe against TK’s tribe. There’s a good amount of muscle on both sides, but if he were to hedge bets, he’d say that he’s probably on the better tribe, physically. His tribe is, with himself being the exception, on the younger side, and the big guy at the end of the line is going to be a tough one to beat in challenges, that’s for sure. That’s not to say that brawn is everything in the game of Survivor – Owen’s watched enough Survivor to know this – but at least in the early game, it’s a huge advantage. 

He peeks over at the other tribe, trying to catch TK’s eye to say hi, when he remembers that TK didn’t want people to know they were related. He’s probably right, but Owen just thinks that the truth is going to come out eventually, and it doesn’t matter much anyway since they’re not even on the same tribe. Plus, his ex-wives both say he’s a terrible liar, so he’s not sure how well he can be expected to keep up the ruse, but he’ll try anyway. If TK thinks it’s better for his game, he’s going to at least try not to blow it up for him.

Owen’s attention shifts to the man walking up towards them, parting the camera crew like the Red Sea. It’s the man, the myth, and the legend himself – Jeff Probst. Owen secretly thinks that he’s better looking than Jeff, and that he’s perhaps overly revered in the Survivor fandom, but still, as a long-time fan, he admittedly is a little starstruck to see Jeff in the flesh. 

As they go through their introductions, Owen notices that the bulk of his tribe are firefighters, like him. He feels relieved – he knows firefighters. How they think, what makes them tick, and what makes them angry. Hell, he’s been a fire captain for the better part of the last two decades, and not to sound too cocky, but he knows he’s a good one. If he can take the lead on this tribe, he’s pretty sure he just hit the jackpot in the tribe lottery.  

--

just an open tag today since it's so late and idk who hasn't done it yet! 💜

[writeouswriter]

Bro, sorry I’ve been so aloof and distant lately, I just found inherent meaning and wonder in something often derided as meaningless and discovered what true passion in art meant for the first time, yeah, yeah it was this whole thing

[12neonlit-stage]

you're allowed to discuss and work together, reblog for a higher sample size or something

You have 1 week, good luck!

[cassandragemini]

Aimee, from Leonard Nimoy’s 2010 photography series Secret Selves

Aimee — tattoo and body piercing

I like being a girl…no one knows I am a woman, let alone a lesbian. My beard is natural, there is no imbalance.

[artist-rat]

some epilogue vibes (an excuse to draw some hugs. and my durge so many times)

[pearlore]

@eydilily 's gempearl designs r so gorgeous i had to draw........ also a swap?? ft. some nzsl bc i was briefly possessed by the spirit of. hands.

[yanderespamton78]

Edit since a lot of people seem confused - your "real" name is the name that you want to be referred to in real life. It doesn't have to be your legal name. So if you're trans and you have a different name to whats on your birth certificate, even if not many people call you by the name, it still counts as your real name.

Edit 2 : Holy shit guys please stop reblogging this post my poor inbox im getting like 20 notifs an hour asjfhkajshdkh /lh /srs

[ankles-be-bitten]

idk, i just feel like if your primary argument against transandrophobia/antitransmasculinity theory is that you think it's transmisogynistic you're not being intellectually honest. who does it hurt when trans men and mascs coin a term to describe the intersection of transphobia and sexism as it most frequently affects them? because it does hurt trans men when they're told that they're not entitled to speak on the discrimination they themselves face.

what I'm hearing from people who oppose the antitransmasculinity movement is that transmisogyny is when trans men talk about their problems 👍, but obviously that's not true. i know that's not true. you know that's not true. so then what is the issue? genuinely, enlighten me. you want trans men to shut up and listen? I'm listening.