iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 20h

My favourite oat milk has changed the colour of its packaging from yellow to a different yellow and I'm

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 10/10/2026

WIP Wsaturday teaser for the armpit sniffers 👀 🐙🩵🦈

Ed senses Stede in the bedroom doorway before he sees him, before he even makes a sound to announce himself, and lifts his head to find his reflection in the mirror. Stede smiles when he meets his eyes, warm and lovely, and then sends his own gaze off on a slow, deliberate expedition down Ed's bare torso, down the length of one leather-clad thigh, down the boot he's tying with his foot up on the stool they sometimes use when Stede's in the mood to be bent over something and flogged to the point of delirium.

"See anything you like?" Ed asks, cheeky and feeling pretty warm himself now even with the howling gale and pissing rain outside the windows.

Stede hums, a pantomime of careful thought. "Would you like the list alphabetically, by preference, or from north to south? It's quite long."

Ed grins and goes back to firmly lacing his tall leather boot. "Couldn't decide what to wear on top. Corset vest or just a harness?"

"Oh, harness," Stede says at once. "One of the designs without lots of chest straps. They haven't seen your lovely ship tattoo yet, except on your Instagram."

"Pick one for me," Ed tells him in his best smoky low Blackbeard voice, and watches Stede's reflection shiver happily before he crosses to the wardrobe and starts going through where they store their favourites. He thinks he knows which one Stede is going to pick—one of the lighter models from the latest collection, double shoulder straps and industrial looking buckles that Stede spent an entire fascinated evening fiddling with when Ed modelled the prototype for him a few months back—but instead it's a more substantial one, a strap over his right shoulder and another under his armpit fixed to a gleaming O-ring at that side of his chest, one more strap reaching diagonally from his left shoulder connected to a full-length leather sleeve.

"Because it's like your jacket," Stede explains, not that he really has to. That was the idea, after all. He comes closer when Ed's finished with his bootlace and holds the harness out for him expectantly until Ed slips his arm into the sleeve, continuing, "Give them Blackbeard, give you some ventilation," as he turns Ed around and starts fussing with the buckles on the back. "How's that?"

"More hole," Ed demands, and Stede stifles a giggle as he slips the fastening straps one hole tighter each.

"Better?"

Ed turns and drapes his arms—one fully leathered up, one wearing only the leather cuff he put on the week they met and never removed again except in the shower—over Stede's shoulders, deliberately sliding the long sleeve against the soft skin of his neck above his turquoise leather collar. "Perfect," he murmurs, smudging the sound into mush when he can't resist letting it turn into a kiss halfway through.

It's very distracting. The importance of the rest of the day to come feels a bit faded and faraway now, like an old Polaroid. Why not just fucking forget it? Stay here where it's warm and dry and he only has to be Blackbeard when they both feel like it. Stay right here in this cosy bedroom with its weird ridiculous wonderful mishmash of Stede's flouncy Victorian wallpaper and antique vases and Ed's lava lamps and framed Jaws poster. Stay here with just Stede.

But no—that's the old Ed's thoughts, really. The Ed who hated Blackbeard because he didn't know anybody in the world who really understood him or knew what the fuck to do with him except demand, demand, demand more and more and more. Today-Ed likes Blackbeard, because Stede likes Blackbeard. Loves him. Gets him. All of it. And last year's LeatherCon is the first one in at least a decade that doesn't stress him out or make him miserable to remember. Last year was fucking fun, and revelatory, and even more of a smash success than usual. Those things have to be related, right?

"You decide what you're wearing yet?" he asks, letting his forehead rest against Stede's. The close distance turns him into a fuzzy beige and gold blur. A fucking beautiful one, though, like a Rothko.

"Mm, not yet," Stede admits apologetically, as he probably fucking should since they'll have to leave in an hour and it usually takes him about that long to decide something as simple as whether matching socks or a fun pop of contrasting colour is the vibe of the outfit. "I'm down to two and a half possibilities. Needed to give my eyes a rest for a minute."

"Want some help choosing?" Ed offers, vaguely intrigued to know what the 'and a half' could possibly be, but Stede shakes his head and takes a reluctant step backwards, putting himself back into focus. Turning himself from a Rothko into a fucking Botticelli or something. A big beautiful Rossetti, like the stolen chalk portrait on the wall of his reading room, if Rossetti girls wore sage green silk pyjamas.

"No. Let me blow your mind," Stede says, bouncing his eyebrows and looking delighted with himself when it makes Ed splutter a helpless little giggle. Then, pausing in the doorway on his way back to his auxiliary wardrobe, he adds, "Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"If you're wearing this much leather..."

"Yeah?" Ed asks again, keeping his knowing look down with an immense effort as he fake-idly traces his fingertips along one strap of the harness.

Stede bites his lip, looking Ed up and down again, and finishes, "Don't wear deodorant."

Ed goes over to the cluttered dresser and casually, cat-like, bats the roll-on into the bin, and Stede beams at him like a stadium floodlight and wafts off back in a happy daze to finish picking his clothes.

He retrieves it when Stede's gone and puts it back in the drawer where it belongs. No need to make everyone else suffer long-term just because his boyfriend's a beautiful pervert. But today? They can shut up and fucking deal with it.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 10/10/2026

Too poor for fancy presents so I bodged together a card of my brother in law's favourite film for his birthday next week because I think I'm funny. (The big red empty space is saved for a birthday badge when I find a good one.) (He's 50.)

Scarface poster with "say hello to your little birthday card" pasted over the title

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 10/10/2026

"His own bag of hats" absolutely broke me 😂

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 08/10/2026

I'm seriously like 60% tit & these K-cup fucks will not shrink no matter how much I lose. They were like this when I was in Yr8 being honked at in my school uniform by disgusting van drivers & when I was fit & sporty enough to play hockey for the county. Permanent spine disfigurement from them now.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 07/10/2026

Longer hair is much easier 😂 but yeah, when I think of him he looks much more like this era!

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 07/10/2026

What if I finally make Seaglass dollies like I've been threatening for the last few years 👀

A little turquoise and white crocheted sneaker

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 05/10/2026

A Merstede-induced selfie from three years ago. My resistance hasn't improved much. 😭🥹

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 03/10/2026

Wrote two pages of LeatherCon and washed my hair after several days of depression flatline incapability.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

Here's a tiny little one of mine that I'm disproportionately fond of 💖 archiveofourown.org/works/50917651 #TakeTwoTuesday

He comes closer, wooden leg tapping louder than his boot on the deck boards, and takes a seat on the other end of the cannon like they're a pair of kids on a seesaw. Lucius seems amused by it, a twitch of a smile flickering onto his mouth as Izzy settles there.

"That a wooden shark in your pocket, twatty?" Izzy asks, softly taunting.

"Yeah," Lucius admits, not rising to the teasing but reaching into his pocket instead to bring out the shark that Izzy spent a day whittling for him. "I am pleased to see you, though."

He sets it on the cannon between them almost timidly, like he's not sure how Izzy might feel about seeing it half-painted now: an unfinished wavy, banded pattern of tiny dots and lines all in black. An irregular little blob near its head that might be the shape of a swallow.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 28/09/2026

Deeply fucking cringe, apparently I've been hacked on Instagram and have been sending everyone weird spam photos 🫥💀

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

Big "Janine From Ghostbusters" energy 🤓 I love all of these too!

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

I'm not usually much of a tv watcher, but these are my darlings

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

This is the one I was talking about here! Very rare for me for a FO to match The Vision so accurately 🥰

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

I wanna keep doing these projects until the entire series is covered 😍🥰 Here are my frames:

Crayola drawing of Stede pushing Ed up against the wall

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

My fanfic career peaked with this one 😂

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

I miss having a functioning brain 😭

"My first mission," Harry says as Eggsy's tracing his tongue over the winding line of white scar tissue just above his elbow. "Foiled the assassination of Margaret Thatcher."

"Reckon there's a few more people who'd like to stab you for that one." There's another scar at Harry's side, a bumpy, shiny cluster the size of a fist. "Here?"

"Exit wound. There's a smaller one in the back where the bullet entered."

"Thought you got bulletproof suits."

"Yes. This is an illustration of why we leave all the prancing about in speedos to James Bond."

Eggsy takes a moment to properly appreciate the visual of Harry prancing about in speedos, although not the getting shot in the back part, and traces his tongue across the ridges of Harry's abs to another white scar slashed diagonally into his abdomen. "This one?"

"Ah," Harry says, in the slightly taunting tone of a man about to tell a thrilling story. "That one was terrible. I was on a table surrounded by people hiding their faces behind masks. One of them, the ringleader, sliced right into me with a knife, held me open, and ripped out part of my guts."

"Holy fuck!"

"That's an appendectomy scar."

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 28/08/2026

I was going to do the ten female characters to know me thing, but it would just be this fabulous grumpy bitch ten times.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 24/08/2026

Beta: Please don't say "the glorious wobble of his arse". Me: Okay ☺️ Beta: Adding more words is not what I meant.

It comes out sounding excruciatingly corny, but it's impossible to feel embarrassed about it when it's making Harry's mouth curl up into a secret, lovely, pleased little smile. "You needn't try to chat me up, I'm already inside you."

"Shut up." He hauls Harry closer for another kiss by tugging impatiently at his deflated hairdo, crunchy and voluminous under Hamish's fingers with gallons of fancy product. He feels strangely gratified by the collapse, and that he's allowed to see it; Harry's vanity is a colossus, and watching it teeter is like watching some huge force of nature explode the sky, like the theatre-curtain drape of the northern lights.

"Tell me," Harry insists, muffled against his mouth.

Hamish's accent gets more pronounced when he's turned on. So does Harry's, always prompting a weird vague sensation that he's being fucked out of his mind by a what-ho BBC news reporter from the war. "Do you want me to show you?" he asks, sliding the hand not snarled in Harry's hair down the full length of his naked spine to clutch at the glorious soft wobble of his beautiful arse.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 23/08/2026

I just miss my Eggsy, whose favourite games were "sneak up behind B & bite her upper arm fat for lols" or "wait until the middle of the night then do a WWF style leap onto her stomach". I taught him to play fight when he was tiny because it was cute, but then couldn't control him when he got big 😅

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 23/08/2026

Happy birthday, Smallest Kid! Here's a cool one: I grew up in Derbyshire & there are two caverns there which are the only places in the world you can find a particular form of fluorite called Blue John. It's my favourite mineral, I wear a ring with a tiny piece in but I love the raw rock best 😍

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 23/08/2026

Marvin is so cute but he's not enough of a dickhead 😔 Between Eggsy and Drake I've got so used to boy cats who are absolute uncontrollable rotters with too much personality for their own good. I've not been bitten, scratched, punched, or had my things shoved off a dresser once since I've been here!!

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 20/08/2026

He's appalled by my horrible rainbow trousers and refuses to touch them 🌈

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 20/08/2026

I have conveyed your homage. He is, naturally, unimpressed.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 19/08/2026

Six days babysitting my little void buddy Marvin!

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 19/08/2026

These six still available if anyone's interested 💖💸

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 18/08/2026

Think happy 59th birthday thoughts towards my mum today, I bet she'll feel it ✨

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 16/08/2026

OH I forgot to post the finished girls here 😎✨

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 16/08/2026

Hiding out in the kitchen with the grandpas because Actual Rumi just showed up and the delight has become incredibly shrill 😅

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 14/08/2026

Artists please draw Stede, ghost-Izzy, and Ed like this.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 14/08/2026

These two. Need to take the gingham ones in at the waist but they're otherwise perfect, and I looove the blue 🩵💙 (obligatory yell of POCKETS)

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 14/08/2026

I wore dungarees for most of the 90s (usually gloriously ugly tie dyed things like this) but haven't really since, sister gave me two pairs for my birthday and I'm wondering why I ever stopped 😍

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 14/08/2026

She's so beautiful 😭😍 Need to take better pictures in real light when I dare to open the blinds again.

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☠️ Blip B ☠️ @robertaseaport.bsky.social · 13/08/2026

Oooo what a lovely thing to come downstairs to 🙃 THANKS DRAKE!!!

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