aux, masc lesb, nerd writer š come to the candystore
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost

Love Begins

todays bird
trying on a metaphor

Janaina Medeiros
Peter Solarz
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

tannertan36
KIROKAZE

Andulka
tumblr dot com

romaā
Cosmic Funnies

shark vs the universe
cherry valley forever

JBB: An Artblog!
art blog(derogatory)

izzy's playlists!

seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Namibia
seen from Iraq
seen from Tunisia
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seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
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seen from Singapore

seen from Brazil

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
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seen from Malaysia
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@variantaux
aux, masc lesb, nerd writer š come to the candystore

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i love them so much itās not even funny
megan we see you kissing her neckā¦.
DESIRE
ā pairing :: daniela x masc!freader \\ wc 1.3k synopsis :: at a party, you see your ex, daniela, with her new boyfriend jonah. after what seems to be an argument, she decides youāre what she wants, and you canāt resist. ( rated x !! ) tags :: smut, making out, car sex, down bad dani, dom reader, not proofread song rec :: desire by kili
KATSEYE
smut (x), fluff (f), angst (a) - basic dni desire - (daniela x masc reader) rated x !!
guys i miss writing fics but i genuinely have no idea WHAT to write about to remake my entire blog

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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TATTOOED LOVE
lara raj x oblivious!tattoo artist!reader
a quiet tattoo artist meets lara raj, and she keeps coming back. with every session, they grow closer, sharing small moments and laughter. over time, the friendship becomes something more, and they finally take a chance on each other.
word count: 1.4k
masterlist
black baggy jeans worn soft at the knees, heavy boots scuffed beyond repair, loose tees or tanks that show the ink climbing your arms and disappearing under fabric like unfinished sentences. silver rings you forget to take off. chains sometimes, when you remember. your hair is always doing its own thing. kept short enough not to get in the way, long enough to fall into your eyes when you lean over your work.
your body tells its own story.
tattoos layered over years: bold linework across your forearms, shaded pieces up your biceps, old flash mixed with personal designs. some of them are yours, some done by friends, some by people you trusted once and never saw again. none of them are delicate. all of them are intentional. clients clock it immediately. ink recognizes ink.
you move with the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly what theyāre doing with their hands.
this isnāt the first time lara raj has been on your table.
the first time, she came in quiet.
hood pulled up, shoulders slightly hunched, like she was trying to disappear into the space instead of take it over. the shop was loud that day. someone laughing in the front, machines buzzing, music bleeding from another room. but she moved through it like she was underwater. when she sat down, she folded her hands neatly in her lap and waited for you to notice her.
you did. eventually.
āwhatāre we doing today?ā you asked, voice even, professional.
she hesitated, then tucked her hair behind her ear. āa scorpion. back here.ā she pointed just behind her ear, delicate but sure. āsmall.ā
āzodiac?ā you guessed, already pulling on gloves.
she smiled, slow and sharp at the edges. āobviously.ā
you tilted her head gently to the side, fingers light but confident. she didnāt flinch. that part stuck with you. the immediate trust, the way her body relaxed under your hands like sheād decided you were safe without needing proof.
you didnāt notice how long she stayed after it was done. didnāt clock the way she hovered by the counter, asking what music you liked, watching you clean your station like it was interesting. you wrapped her tattoo, gave aftercare instructions, nodded politely when she thanked you.
you thought that was the end of it.
the second time, she was different.
brighter. louder. rings stacked on her fingers, confidence crackling off her skin. she sprawled into the chair like she owned it, kicked her boots together absently.
āring finger,ā she said. āzzz.ā
you raised an eyebrow. āsleep thing?ā
ācats,ā she corrected, already pulling out her phone. āthree of them. they nap like itās a their job.ā
she showed you pictures. blurry, overexposed, ridiculous. you nodded like this was completely normal behavior from a client.
āyou donāt think itās weird?ā she asked, eyes flicking to your face, searching.
ānah,ā you said honestly. āpeople get worse for less.ā
she laughed, too loud, too delighted, like youād just validated something important.
after that, she kept coming back.
the stars were next. scattered carefully across her hand, mapped to resemble the taurus constellation. she came in quieter that day, energy muted. brought references printed out, carefully folded. when you asked about placement, she shrugged.
āitās for my grandmother,ā she said eventually. āshe was a taurus. she loved the stars.ā
you slowed down after that. measured twice. checked symmetry again and again. while you worked, she told you small things. how her grandmother used to braid her hair, how she smelled like incense and old books. she didnāt cry. she didnāt dramatize it. she just let the memories exist between you.
when you finished, she stared at her hand for a long time.
then she squeezed your wrist. āthank you,ā she whispered, like the shop might overhear.
you assumed gratitude explained everything.
somewhere between that tattoo and the next, she asked for your number.
āfor scheduling,ā she said, too casual, eyes glued to her phone like it didnāt matter.
you gave it to her without hesitation. you always gave clients your number.
what you didnāt expect was the text later that night.
lara: hey itās scorpion girl
lara: hope thatās okay lol
you replied. polite. brief.
then she sent a meme.
then a picture of one of her cats stretched impossibly long across a couch.
from there, it snowballed.
the wrist came next. love is life and life is free, written in two different handwritings. she played erykah badu softly from her phone while you worked, humming under her breath, eyes closed. afterward, she texted you the song link like you hadnāt just shared the moment.
you listened to it again anyway.
habibi followed. upper forearm. matching with her family. she came in glowing that day, telling you who had it where, laughing about group chats and inside jokes. she brought pastries. insisted you eat one even though your gloves were still on.
you sat on the curb outside afterward, knees almost touching, talking about music and childhood and how weird it is to grow up fast. she asked about your first tattoo. you told her more than you usually told anyone.
paranji came next. tamil again. her thathaās name, resting on her shoulder. she was quiet during that one. jaw tight. breath careful. she held your hand harder than necessary.
later that night, she sent you a long message thanking you for being gentle.
you stared at it longer than you meant to.
after that, it stopped being just about tattoos.
coffee dates that werenāt dates. late-night texts from studios where she sounded tired and soft. voice notes you replayed more than once. you sent her photos of flash sheets you werenāt sure about. she hyped you up like it was her job.
āi believe in you,ā she texted once, unprompted.
you told her she was dramatic.
she sent a heart anyway.
the scorpio symbol on her ribs hurt. april v beside it hurt more. she joked through it, laughed when she swore, told you she trusted you with her life. fairy on her inner bicep. angel in gothic lettering joining the stars on her hand.
by then, you were friends.
real friends. the kind who knew each otherās coffee orders. the kind who texted good luck before big days. the kind who sat in silence without needing to fill it.
you still didnāt see it.
so when she comes in this time, it feels normal.
white tank top. bold graphic. hair loose. glossy lips. she settles into the chair like she belongs there. like she always has.
āsame drill?ā you ask.
āyou know me so well,ā she says.
you place the stencil carefully. her name in tamil. centered. clean. meaningful.
ātell me if itās crooked.ā
āitās perfect,ā she says immediately. then softer, āyou always make things feel like they belong.ā
youāre focused on alignment. symmetry. breathing.
the machine buzzes. she listens when you tell her when to breathe. she talks about missing home, about music, about how she feels safest in places where she doesnāt have to explain herself.
ālike here,ā she adds.
you nod, thinking she means the shop.
when itās done, you bandage it gently. her name rests there like itās always lived in her.
she looks at it for a long time. āi wanted this from you.ā
you shrug. āi was available.ā
she laughs, then goes quiet.
āhey,ā she says.
you look up.
āare you always this oblivious,ā she asks gently, āor just with me?ā
your stomach drops. āto what?ā
she exhales, half-laughing. āiāve been flirting with you for months. i text you every day. i come here even when i donāt need a tattoo.ā
heat floods your face. āi thought we were just⦠friends.ā
āwe are,ā she says quickly. āi just want more.ā
you swallow. āyou mean⦠a date?ā
āyeah,ā she says, suddenly nervous. āif you want.ā
your heart stumbles. āyeah,ā you say. āi do.ā
she steps closer. waits.
you meet her halfway.
the kiss is soft. brief. warm. her hand settles at your waist like itās always known where to go. it feels easy. right.
when she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours.
ātext me when you close,ā she whispers.
you smile, still stunned. āi will.ā
the door chimes as she leaves.
your phone buzzes almost immediately.
lara: so⦠does this mean i get to flirt openly now?
you laugh, typing back without hesitation.
for the first time, you arenāt missing a thing.
taglist: @pizzachicken @vanillakirstein @variantauxx @skz-xii @fein4lararaj @buzzinuconn @hellokittyloverrxox @bitchesbrokenpromises @yoonchaesno1 @vinvinvin-who @jhgifdbki @cazeeee
a/n: please send reqs im dying here. also that one pic she posted the other day inspired me lol
SUN-KISSED DAYS
gf!daniela x gf!masc!reader
on a sun-drenched getaway to the dominican republic, you and daniela escape the noise of the world and slip into something softer.
word count: 2.3k
masterlist
STOLEN HEARTS
yoonchae x exchange student!reader
an exchange student in seoul grows close to her neighbor yoonchae, even with a language barrier and yoonchae stealing her clothes. a few years later they meet again in la, where yoonchae is now an idol. the old feelings come back, and the two finally get together.
word count: 1.9k
masterlist:
me and the bad bitch i pulled by being silly
WELCOME HOME MEIZINI WE MISSED YOU

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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ok, wait, so the spirit of festivities is getting to me, and you asked for prompts so here we go,
first of all established!maphinz, they are at a big house, all together to celebrate the holidays, split into three rooms, yoonara, meizini and maphinz are sharing rooms(as long as we have the maphinz room the other pairings arenāt that important) sophia got every member presents except for manon without any explanation, when they get to their rooms for the night they make out, manon asks her about it naturally, sophia tells tells manon sheās been naughty, and naughty girls donāt get gifts, and when manon tries to initiate sex sophia stops her, prohibiting her from touching her as punishment (basically mutual masturbation with dom!phia and holiday flare)
ABSOLUTELY ANON santa tell me right here...
HIIII YOUR LAYOUT IS SO ADORABLE š„¹š„¹ i love mofusand smsmsmsmmmm
THANK YOU SO MUCH AMOR
i love them so much as well
IS THIS REAL?
megan skiendiel x snowboarder!reader
olympic snowboarder reader agrees to be megan skiendielās fake girlfriend to keep her ex away, but navigating l.a., public appearances, and āpracticeā kisses turns pretending into something dangerously real.
word count: 2kish
masterlist
can they comeback home already?
HOLD TIGHT (DRABBLE)
manon bannerman x bodyguard!reader
the tokyo airport incidentā¦
masterlist

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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SCRATCHES
doberman puppy!dani x ragdoll kitten!reader headcannons
masterlist
i miss them </3