welcome ʚɞ
⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
journey .☘︎ ݁˖ she / her .☘︎ ݁˖ .☘︎ ݁˖ lesbian
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⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
ʚɞ my works -> # ⠀⠀ ˙ ⠀⠀ਏਓ ⬭⠀⠀journeys works ۪ ⠀⠀ ♡
Show & Tell
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Keni
will byers stan first human second
taylor price
art blog(derogatory)
trying on a metaphor

pixel skylines
Cosmic Funnies
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Not today Justin
i don't do bad sauce passes
h
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
DEAR READER
noise dept.
dirt enthusiast

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Kiana Khansmith
seen from United States

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@serpentwhisperss
welcome ʚɞ
⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
journey .☘︎ ݁˖ she / her .☘︎ ݁˖ .☘︎ ݁˖ lesbian
₊ ⊹ ⋆ pinterest ⋆ instagram ⋆ spotify ⊹ ₊
⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
ʚɞ my works -> # ⠀⠀ ˙ ⠀⠀ਏਓ ⬭⠀⠀journeys works ۪ ⠀⠀ ♡
the concept of milevens having mileven doubt
the concept of love not being able save me from the inevitable consequences of my being has my mind a whirlwind, for i have no reason as to not depict myself as a loveless dork. time is dwindling and i am unable to slow it. i feel the desire to burrow my existence into a hole; to become a new person. i am gutted by the life i live. lord, give me a heart that is able to love and be loved.
ive been in the slumps recently and im currently deep in a crush!!
i wont be posting much guys i dont even really open this app much anymore.
love u guys!! coming back soon!
down bad.———————————————————
ellie had been crushing on you since the first day you sat next to her in class. everyone knew it, too. she wasn’t slick about it—cheeks pink every time you leaned close, fumbling her pen when you borrowed one, glancing at your lips when you spoke. she’d stammer if you teased her, scratch the back of her neck, act all cool but ruin it by tripping over her words.
you’d gotten used to it—her hovering, her shy little smiles, the way she always volunteered to help you with homework just so she could spend more time near you. it was cute, endearing, the way ellie was so obviously down bad. sometimes you caught her staring when she thought you weren’t looking, a soft blush creeping over her cheeks as she quickly looked away. other times, she’d make some small excuse to brush against your arm or sit closer than necessary, and you’d feel your chest tighten a little, secretly enjoying the attention she didn’t even realize she was giving.
but tonight was different.
you’d dragged her back to your room under the excuse of “studying,” except you weren’t really studying. the textbooks were scattered across the bed, papers in disarray, because all your attention was on her. not when you kept leaning closer, watching her face instead of the notes. the lamplight cast her in soft shadows, hair falling into her eyes as she scribbled something in the margin of your notebook. her lips pursed in concentration, fingers twisting nervously around her pen.
“you’re not even paying attention,” ellie muttered, frowning down at the mess of words in front of her.
you hummed, dragging your finger absentmindedly across a margin of her notes. “maybe i just like watching you.”
she froze. her ears went pink, and she ducked her head like she could hide the smile tugging at her mouth. “s-shut up. you don’t.”
“oh, i don’t?” you pushed, tilting her chin so she had to meet your eyes. her pupils blew wide, lips parting as if she had something to say but couldn’t find the words.
for a long moment, neither of you spoke. just her breathing—shaky, uneven—her fingers flexing nervously where they rested on the open page. the faint sound of her pen scratching against paper filled the quiet room, punctuated only by the soft thump of your heartbeat in your chest.
then, softer than a whisper, ellie said, “don’t mess with me like that.”
your chest warmed. “i’m not messing with you.”
you watched as she swallowed hard, eyes darting to yours then quickly back to her notes, but her concentration was fake. she couldn’t stop stealing glances, the blush on her cheeks deepening with each look. her lips trembled slightly as she murmured, “you’re… impossible.”
you leaned closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel her warmth radiating through the thin fabric of her hoodie. “maybe i am,” you whispered, “but i like being impossible with you.”
ellie’s fingers twitched over her notebook, and she pressed her palm to her mouth to hide the small gasp she couldn’t hold back. her body shifted, inching closer to you as if drawn by some invisible force she couldn’t resist. the corner of her mouth lifted in a nervous, almost sheepish smile, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of embarrassment and longing.
“you really are the worst,” she muttered, voice low, almost shy, but there was a tremor there that betrayed how much she actually liked it.
you smiled, tilting your head, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. the contact made her freeze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. “worst in the best way,” you teased, letting your thumb graze her cheek lightly.
her lips parted again, smaller, more hesitant than before, and she looked down like she was trying to steady herself. “you’re… so annoying,” she whispered, but there was no real heat in her words—only the fluttering nervousness of someone on the edge of something they’ve been waiting for forever.
you leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away, to protest, to say no—but she didn’t. she stayed there, her eyes wide, pupils dilated, chest rising and falling unevenly, hands still resting on the notebook but no longer writing. when your lips finally brushed against hers, she shivered violently, as if the kiss itself had surprised her.
her fingers twitched, gripping the edges of the notebook, then your shirt, as she pressed closer, testing the warmth of your body against hers. the kiss deepened slowly, awkwardly at first, soft and uncertain, her lips timid against yours, exploring, learning, tasting. every hesitant moan she let slip made your chest tighten, made your pulse race.
pulling back just slightly, you rested your forehead against hers. “you okay?” you murmured.
ellie’s breath hitched, eyes fluttering closed, cheeks still flushed. “yeah… i think so,” she whispered, voice trembling, barely audible. “fuck… i’ve been… dreaming about that.”
you smiled, brushing your nose gently against hers. “good,” you said softly. “i dont want to stop.”
you shifted closer, straddling her lap carefully so her hands instinctively went to your waist. ellie froze for a moment, pupils blown wide, chest rising and falling unevenly.
“uh—wait—are you sure?” she whispered, voice trembling.
“i’m sure,” you murmured, tilting her chin up so your lips could meet hers again. she leaned in, shivering against you, lips parting with a soft whine that made your chest tighten.
her hands were hesitant at first, brushing over your sides, fumbling at your shirt, tugging at the hem like she didn’t quite know how much to touch. every touch, though, was desperate, needy, like she couldn’t get close enough.
“you’re so soft,” she breathed, voice cracking as she pressed against you. her fingers wandered lower, tracing your hips, sliding beneath the waistband of your pants, hesitant but bold.
you groaned softly, tilting your head so her lips brushed your neck, and she shivered again, biting lightly at your collarbone. “i’ve… wanted this forever,” she confessed, low and ragged. “so bad.”
you guided her hand, letting her explore, letting her feel how much she was driving you wild. her fingers were clumsy at first, slipping and circling, unsure, but when you encouraged her, she pressed harder, sliding inside with a small gasp.
“oh—fuck,” she whispered, eyes squeezing shut, lips trembling. “you’re so… tight. i—i don’t know what to do.”
“just like that,” you breathed, rocking your hips slowly against her hand. she moaned, pressing closer, trembling against you, her blush deepening as her lips brushed yours in messy, eager kisses.
she began to move her fingers inside you with a desperate rhythm, slow at first, then faster, sloppy, clumsy, but filled with want. every whimper, every soft gasp, every shaky “oh my god” made her bolder, more frantic.
“you’re mine,” she whispered suddenly, forehead pressed against yours, voice shaky but possessive. “only mine right now. fuck, i’ve wanted this… i’ve wanted you.”
you groaned, gripping her hips, pulling her closer, letting her feel how badly she had you. she kissed you frantically, teeth and lips clashing against yours, tongue pushing, tasting, exploring, her whole body trembling with need.
her free hand tangled in your hair, tugging you closer as she whispered, “don’t stop… please… oh my god, don’t stop.”
and when you finally came undone, fingers slick with her heat, she shivered violently, pressing against you like she couldn’t let go, like she wanted to memorize every shudder of your body.
her lips found yours again in a soft, desperate kiss, murmuring between gasps: “so good… so fucking good… i—fuck… i’ve wanted you forever.”
even when the trembling slowed, even when your breaths evened out, she clung to you, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, still whispering apologies and soft confessions: “sorry, i’m messy… sorry, i can’t—i just—fuck, you feel so good.”
you cupped her face, brushing hair behind her ear, letting her cling to you as she calmed, feeling the warmth of her body still pressed against yours, realizing just how desperate and eager she’d been, and how much you wanted to keep her like this, trembling, soft, and completely yours.
hiii pretty!!
i was wondering if you’re okay with writing angst bc i have an idea 🙈
oh my gosh of course!! tell me!!
babe be quiet im crying
๑ ⠀ ⠀᭢᜴꤬ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀🍄🟫 ⠀ ⠀ ◌๋ ✿ ˚
i am different
a quickie in the bathroom !
the bathroom is heavy with heat, mirrors fogged and streaked with condensation. ellie’s back is pressed to the cool countertop, hoodie pushed up and shorts tangled awkwardly around her thighs. the contrast between her warm skin and the cold counter makes her shiver, soft little trembles that are half anticipation, half the lingering chill.
you kneel between her legs, moving slow, brushing lips against her in teasing, gentle strokes. her hands fly to your hair almost immediately, fingers tangling and clutching like she can’t help it, teeth biting into her knuckles to muffle the soft whimpers slipping from her lips. she’s trembling, fragile, frantic even, afraid someone might hear, but she can’t stop herself — every little touch has her undone.
“fuck…” she mutters, voice rough, breath uneven, hips pressing down just enough to guide you. her thighs clench around your shoulders, shaky, uncertain, but eager, aching to feel more.
your mouth traces the curve of her hip, teeth grazing gently, teasing her, drawing out another whimper that she tries — and fails — to stifle. her head tips back, lips parting, eyes squeezed shut, face buried in her hands as soft sighs and gasps slip out uncontrollably.
hands roaming up her sides, cupping ribs, feeling every tremor, you feel how fragile she is under your touch. every quiet moan, every shiver, presses into you like a little confession — she’s flushed, soft, entirely yours in this stolen, heated moment.
her hips jerk subtly, chasing friction, and her breathing hitches, raw and uneven. she whimpers, small noises trapped in her own hand, until she can’t hold it anymore. when she comes, it’s messy, quick, a shuddering, breathless release. she leans against you, trembling, fingers tangled in her hair, muffled cries spilling out as though the bathroom itself is holding its breath with you.
you trail slow, soothing kisses along her shoulder and neck as her tremors gradually fade, pressing gentle hands into her sides, grounding her. her forehead rests against your shoulder, damp hair sticking to your skin, voice soft and hoarse in the foggy air.
“don’t stop… not ever,” she whispers, trembling, breath hitching between each word, and you hold her there, pressed together in the quiet, hot intimacy of the moment. the rest of the world feels miles away, leaving just you and her, soft sighs and shivers mingling with the warmth and mist around you.
i love saying “omg i love ur 4c curls” to white people. i think it truly validates them. 🧚
⠀⠀ ˙ ⠀⠀ ਏਓ⠀⠀ ⬭⠀⠀ takin’ my air ⠀⠀ ۪ ⠀⠀ ♡
ellie rambling about star wars, but she stops mid-rant when she realizes you’re staring at her softly
you’re sitting cross-legged on her bed, hoodie bunched up around your wrists, a mug of warm milk pressed between your hands. ellie is pacing in front of you, guitar forgotten in the corner, hair messy, her voice bouncing off the walls as she talks fast and loud.
“so basically—okay—imagine the physics of it—like, space isn’t just a void, right? it’s, like, this—you’ve got dark matter and energy and—and I swear it’s like the Force or something, it’s literally everywhere, like, Star Wars isn’t even trying hard enough to explain it, but it totally exists in real life, and—”
you’re quiet, sipping your drink, letting her ramble, letting the words tumble out without pause, but the way she’s lit up, fingers gesturing wildly, voice pitching higher with excitement, makes your chest ache softly. she doesn’t notice at first, caught up in her own galaxy, her own ideas.
then she looks at you—or maybe she doesn’t even realize she’s looking—and your eyes meet. the mug wobbles slightly in your hands because you’re not even thinking about it; you’re just… staring at her. the way her eyes light up, the curl of her lip when she’s passionate, the soft little crease of her brow as she tries to get every point across—it’s too much and not enough all at once.
her words falter mid-rant. the force of her own excitement hits a wall as she notices the slow, soft smile on your face. she freezes, hand mid-gesture, eyes wide for a fraction of a second, like she’s realizing she’s been caught in her own orbit.
“sorry,” she murmurs, voice small now. “are you listening?”
you nod softly, not saying anything, just letting the warmth of your expression speak for you. the corners of her mouth twitch, lips parting in a quiet, incredulous laugh. she drops her hands to her sides, letting the frantic energy dissolve into a hush.
“shit,” she whispers, rubbing the back of her neck, voice low and flustered. “i didnt even know i could talk that much!”
“youre talking the perfect amount,” you shake your head gently, still smiling, and she exhales slowly, shoulders relaxing, the tension in her hands easing. “keep talking, baby.” you reassure.
“are you sure?,” she says finally, trying to cover it with her usual deflective sarcasm, voice small but warm. “of course.”you laugh softly, and she glances at you, eyes sparkling, a blush creeping into her cheeks, because she knows you love both halves of her—the hard and soft. you just love when shes happy.
twinkle twinkle little star
⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀ this is 𝑓or all my ladies ໂ ✤.
sharing headphones on the bus, her scrolling through her playlist and insisting you need to hear every song
the bus smells faintly of damp jackets and engine oil, the low rumble of the tires vibrating under your feet. you’re sitting side by side, backpacks leaning against the seat in front of you, legs almost touching. ellie’s leather jacket is too big, sleeves swallowed over her hands, hair falling into her eyes as she fumbles with the phone in her lap.
“you have to hear this one,” she says, shoving a set of headphones toward you, almost impatient, eyes bright with a spark. “it’s… i dunno, it’s perfect. trust me.”
you slip one earbud in, and she plops the other in her own ear, settling closer than you’d expect, knees brushing lightly against yours. her phone lights up with the playlist she’s curated, scrolling fast with her thumb as she talks over the low hum of the bus.
she pauses, glancing at you, eyebrows raised. you’re grinning, half-smile tugging at your lips, and she freezes for a fraction, caught off guard. “don’t—don’t give me that look,” she mutters, a little breathless, scrolling faster. “you’re making me feel dumb.”
you shake your head, still smiling softly, letting her keep rambling, and she dives right back into gawking about lyricism and all that. she presses her thumb to a different song, turns slightly toward you so you can see the screen, and hums along quietly before it even fully starts.
“you’re not allowed to skip any,” she says firmly, hand brushing against yours when she nudges the phone toward you again. “every single one. it’s a journey. you have to feel it all.”
the bus bumps along, passengers shifting and murmuring around you, but you’re wrapped in this tiny bubble with her: elbows nearly touching, soft laughter and quiet commentary blending with the music
she presses play on the next track before you can even realize the last one ended, hand brushing yours again in that accidental-but-deliberate way, and you know you’re not skipping a single song—not when she’s making it feel like this is exactly how the world is supposed to sound, with her right here, pressed against you, talking too fast and smiling too bright.
✿ ೀ Salty & Sweet ♪
⠀✧ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀🐈⬛ ๋ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ︵‿⠀⠀❦︎
giving ellie head :3
it’s quiet in the room, the kind of quiet that makes you hear every little sound she makes. ellie’s sprawled back against the pillow, hair messy, shirt bunched up around her ribs. her freckled stomach tightens when your lips trail lower, and she lets out this broken, breathy laugh like she can’t believe you’re really doing this.
her hand finds your hair almost instantly, not to push you down, not to guide — just resting there, curling gently between strands like she needs the contact.
“fuck…” it slips out of her, soft and shaky, and then her teeth catch her bottom lip when you wrap your mouth around her. she whimpers — high, desperate, and she tries to cover it with her hand but it still seeps through her fingers.
you can feel her whole body tense under you, the way her thighs flex around your shoulders, trying not to move too much. her chest rises unevenly, little gasps breaking apart her voice.
“you’re… oh my god, you’re so good—” it comes out muffled, cracked, and she shudders like she’s almost embarrassed by how needy she sounds. but she can’t stop. every time your tongue moves just right, she gives you another soft whimper, shaky and sweet, filling the silence like a secret only you get to hear.
and when her head tips back, exposing the pale column of her throat, she breathes your name like a prayer, voice trembling, hands tightening in your hair as if she’s scared you’ll disappear if she lets go.
her thighs are trembling against your shoulders now, every muscle drawn tight as she tries to hold herself together. ellie’s voice is thin, wavering, like she’s caught somewhere between begging and breaking.
“please… don’t stop, don’t—” it’s whispered like a confession, her head pressing back into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut.
you hum softly against her, and she lets out this desperate, choked whimper, hips jerking despite the way she’s trying so hard to stay still for you. her hand in your hair is clutching now, not rough, just frantic, as though she needs the anchor.
“fuck, i—i’m close,” she stammers, breath hitching around the words. her voice cracks, the sound so raw it makes your chest ache.
you hold her there, steady, mouth working her with gentle persistence, letting her ride that edge until she’s unraveling. ellie’s whole body arches, a broken cry slipping free before she bites it back, shoulders shaking, thighs clamping tight around you.
the sounds she makes—soft gasps, hitched whimpers, your name spilling out over and over—fill the air until she finally collapses back into the mattress, chest heaving, freckles flushed pink.
her hand drifts down, shaky fingers brushing your cheek like she has to see you, touch you, make sure you’re really there. her lips part, breathless, eyes glassy when they meet yours.
“jesus christ,” she whispers, voice hoarse.
you press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, slow and tender, and she whimpers again—smaller this time, almost sweet, like she can’t quite come down from it yet.
✿ ೀ Right Now ♪
✧ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀🩰 ๋ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ︵‿⠀⠀❦︎
lap grinding <3
ellie’s sprawled on the couch, legs spread just enough to pull you into her lap. her hoodie is bunched at her waist, sleeves pushed halfway up her arms, freckles standing out in the dim lamplight.
you settle against her, straddling her thighs, and her hands immediately find your hips — tentative at first, fingers curling like she’s not sure if she’s allowed to hold you that way.
you roll against her slowly, testing, and ellie’s breath catches hard in her throat. she tilts her head back into the cushions, lips parted, lashes fluttering.
“fuck,” she whispers, the sound almost like a prayer. her hands tighten a little, guiding you without even realizing she’s doing it.
you keep the pace lazy, the steady drag of your body against hers, and every movement pulls another small sound from her. quiet gasps, soft whines, the kind of noises she can’t hold back no matter how hard she bites her lip.
“you’re—god, you’re killing me,” she murmurs, voice breaking, forehead tipping forward until it rests against yours. her breath is warm on your mouth, shaky, her lips brushing yours without kissing, like she can’t quite decide if she wants to beg or stay quiet.
you grind down harder and she whimpers, a fragile, desperate sound that makes her cheeks flush hot. her hips twitch up against yours, finally giving in, messy and uneven, chasing the friction like she’s lost her restraint.
her hands are trembling now, clutching you like you’re the only thing holding her together. every movement grows a little more frantic until she’s gasping, burying her face in your neck, whispering broken pieces of your name.
when she falls apart, it’s in a rush — her whole body shuddering, grip unsteady, whimpers muffled against your skin. she clings to you through it, holding on so tight it almost hurts, like she’s terrified you’ll let go.
after, she slumps back into the couch, pulling you down with her. her chest is still heaving, voice ragged when she finally speaks.
“you… you’re unreal,” she breathes, pressing a soft, shaky kiss against your jaw.
her arms wrap around you, holding you against her chest as though she’s not going to let you move anytime soon. you feel her lips in your hair, her whispers low and hoarse:
“stay right here. just… don’t go.”
. . 🧩 ✦ . .
hello. e.w.
ellie trying to teach you how to roll a joint but you’re terrible at it and she ends up just laughing and doing it for you
the smell of incense and faint smoke lingers in her room, mixing with the faint musk of old hoodies and paper. you’re sitting cross-legged on her bed, a small rolling tray between your knees, and ellie is crouched in front of you, elbows on her thighs, holding a tiny piece of paper like it’s the most precious thing in the world.
“alright, okay, listen,” she says, voice low but with that edge of mischief she can’t hide. “it’s not rocket science, just… fold, tuck, roll. easy.”
you pick up the paper, fumbling, shaking slightly. “fold, tuck, roll. got it. wait—no, which way do I fold first?”
ellie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, then smirks. “god you’re hopeless. just… here, watch.” she grabs the paper from you and folds it deftly, fingers moving quick and precise. you watch, heart picking up at how small and nimble her hands look against the paper, how natural she makes it seem.
“okay, your turn,” she says, sliding the paper back toward you. you pick it up and immediately crease it wrong, crumpling the edge.
“uhhh… i think i broke it,” you mutter, horrified.
ellie laughs, a short, sharp sound, leaning back on her heels. “oh my god. you did. you literally—how do you even—” she shakes her head, laughing harder, hair falling into her eyes. “fine. fine, sit back.”
before you can protest, she takes the paper again, her fingers wrapping around it, rolling it with that effortless grace that makes your chest tighten. “see? it’s easy if you actually have coordination.”
you watch, mouth slightly open, as she tucks the edges, rolls it smooth, and then pats it lightly like it’s alive. the laughter hasn’t left her yet, spilling over into the soft quiet of her room.
“there. perfect,” she says, smirking down at you. “maybe one day you’ll get it. maybe. don’t hold your breath.”
you shake your head, laughing despite yourself. “i think i’m cursed when it comes to—”
“anything,” she finishes for you, eyes twinkling, voice soft now. she slides the joint toward you, and it’s like a small trophy she made just for you. “here. you get to pretend you did it. congratulations.”
you take it, fingers brushing hers for a second, and she freezes just a little, smirk faltering. she clears her throat, muttering, “i’m still judging you.”
yo let that sink in
looked at my shadow and thought my tits were biceps. we have officially lost the plot.