#new tag incoming))

[binglepringle]

“I like this ship a lot”

(I have written actual poetry about them)

[bigb-enthusiast]

I HAVE AN ETSY!! SaltsSaltyShop (if the link doesnt work send me an ask, a reblog? Or dm!)

[cocotome]

Hirarin has confirmed that he has plans to appear in Ousama Jungle in November and December. He said that since he's resting and getting 3 meals a day, when he come back, it'll probably be the healthiest we've ever seen him! That actually makes me happy 😊

[doodlesbutawesome]

Hey how do you make ur kiff oc? I wanna make a kiff oc from one of my characters but don't know where to start...

I had trouble starting my Kiff OC, but I can try help you with that! This isn’t exactly professional but 😭 here’s just a few tips that helped me make my OC

Usually starting and making an OC is a bit hard (well for myself at least 💀), something that can help a ton is just thinking of a name and their personality as the base, that’s what I started with!

Next I just take an animal (but since it’s Kiff it can also be a more “fictional” or “magical” species) and try to make a design! Usually Pinterest helps me for inspiration in times like this, or if you have a design in mind already just take off from there 💪

It’s pretty much just like the normal OC making process, but you have to kind of find out where the OC would fit in a world as silly as this one, or you can just toss them in and go from there!

This step is just for fun, but you can also try to draw your OC in the style of the show (watching the show and looking at the characters really help if you decide to do this)!

This isn’t really useful, but I do hope it helps a bit 😭‼️

[babygirljulianbashir]

the assumption of abled people that their children will never be disabled is flabbergasting to me. when ultimately it does happen, either by birth or by a later life event, it’s consequently considered a “tragedy” or “bad luck” instead of a thing that just happens sometimes. sometimes your kids are disabled. it’s a thing that happens. why is this surprising?

anyway i had a friend try to convince me it was “no big deal” that the township she was moving to had schools with only a 40% literacy rate and that her future kids “would be fine” and that her and her husband are “college educated and can help them out”. as if. it’d be difficult with an abled child. what if they have ADD? ADHD? if they’re autistic? are diagnosed with dyscalculia? dyslexia? what if they have a physical disability? will those schools offer support to your child? treat them well? provide them with appropriate accommodations?

listen. i get that we can’t all move to the best districts and that disability support in even the best of schools is lackluster. the point is that to her it didn’t matter. her kid won’t need to deal with it! it’s not a problem.

it is a problem. and abled adults disrespect disabled kids (and other disabled adults) by pretending there isn’t a huge problem here. by pretending they’re what’s wrong instead of the systems we exist in and endorse.

“we’re college educated” “it’s no big deal” as if. as fucking if.

[shinydmoon]

(AAAAGHHH)

STOP SENDING ME HELP REQUESTS!

I HAVE NO WAY TO CHECK VALITATIE! EVEN IF REAL YOU ARE NOT GOING TO GET MUCH AS I HAVE LITTLE TEACH AND TAG POORLY!

PLEASE I UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS LIKELY BOTS(both good and bad) PULLING NUMBERS BUT STILL

Im making new tag, sorry.

The plan from now on is this; I’ll snap shot the ‘ask’,put color filter over, post with a uniform tag to Block/filter. Nothing else. My conscience won’t let me icnore crys for help in the event they are real but… I can’t.

[jeromefart]

Guess. Who got p3re today

[darlingshittalk]

oh gosh please don't submit such specific things since it may reveal who you are and get you in possible hot water! (I think I know who the previous discord anon is just by looking at the questions channel)

I'd suggest saying things in general terms and not use personal words

Stay safe!

(Also yes I think it's super silly since it would be considered a voucher not a trade which still adds to the value you idiot daint staff)

If Dainty staff weren’t so incompetent I’m pretty sure people wouldn’t be sending in specific vents and this blog would be dead as hell.

[rddyatbat]

finally committing to reading the oofuri manga (as if i haven't read the first 50 chapters ten times over) and I think it'll help me read it more if I post about it lmao

[cathartic-crypt]

fallout nv companions (+ extras) and what kinda asmr theyd listen to

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

im so Normal. totally not shaking and crying rn

[ultratired]

i like them lots u see

[natypinkns]

little guys little dudes

[r-aindr0p]

Flamm and flames 3/?? Song : Allumer le feu - Johnny Halliday Translation : A sparkle will be sufficient - A mere nothing, a gesture - To - Light the fire

Ok so this one is more of a joke/shitpost one, the song isn't on my playlist at all but it's just an extremely iconic song by an (late) iconic rock singer for whole France. Like, the whole country knows at least the name of the singer, there's even a dedicated merch corner of him in a shop in my area (it's like cheap merch of clocks and posters with his face on it lmao) Sorry Johnny tho, never been a fan of your songs, I'm more of a Jean Jacques Goldman listener in terms of French artist/songwriter from the 80's/90's (he even wrote songs for Céline Dion)

[mmvalentine]

Lucky | Feysand

It was a throw away comment and Feyre knows it.

��Stop leaving glasses out!” Rhys had said, half laughing, tugging the end of her ponytail and dropping two cups and a mug into the sink.

Rhys makes her a cup of tea every evening, and it’s one of the hundred little ways that Feyre feels spoiled. She does like to keep a glass of water on the night stand, and where Tamlin hated it when she worked, Rhys has always supported her career. So they both leave early in the morning and more often than not, there’s a small collection of glassware in their bedroom.

It's completely fair that Rhys would prefer that she take them to the kitchen in the morning.

So why is it that the comment unsteadies her?

“I’m sorry,” Feyre says, and rushes to the sink. Her hands shake on the sponge. “My brain doesn’t function in the morning, I’ll remember to wash up before bed.” She goes for casual but it comes out breathless, and the Rhys looks over with a frown.

Maybe it’s because she’s been here for four weeks but doesn’t trust this yet.

Not Rhys- he’s been nothing but gorgeous, and patient, and kind. He’s so completely sure about her and in some ways that’s the most wonderful thing about him. And in some ways, it’s a lot of fucking pressure.

Rhys comes to stand behind her and puts his nose on her neck. Closes his fingers over her wrists until she stops moving, and wraps his arms around her waist.

“That’s fair,” he murmurs. “It’s not a real gripe.”

Some nights, Feyre lies awake in the dark, long after Rhys has fallen asleep, and tries to deep-breathe the fear away. It never works. But how can she tell him? It’s not his fault. The problems are all in her head.

“I’m sorry,” Feyre whispers, and she doesn’t mean the glasses.

She knows it’s not realistic, but it’s hard to fight the urge to be as perfect as possible, because she’s never had it so good, and the fact that it could break any day now is more than enough to keep her guts in permanent knots. She’s been holding her lips closed over the anxiety. She’s been trying so hard. She’s brittle enough that the shallow criticism lands like failure in her stomach.

“It’s okay,” Rhys murmurs. He picks up a tea towel and dries her hands, dragging her waist away from the sink. “You’re safe, honey.”

Sometimes Feyre forgets that Rhys does know. Knows better than most- after all, he’s known Tamlin longer than she has. Still, she’s both embarrassed and relieved that he can read her so easily.

“I didn’t mean it,” Rhys says. “Please leave cups in the room. It means you live here and that is so wonderful, to me.”

Rhys sits down on the couch and pulls her into his lap. Feyre hides her face in his chest and wishes, for the thousandth time, that she was better than this. That her fear of Tamlin’s anger would not be an unwelcome third in her and Rhys’s house.

“Hey,” Rhys whispers. “Don’t be sad, beautiful girl.” He slides his hand under her hair, and touches their foreheads together. “You’re okay.”

And then he kisses her, and it helps.

Feyre takes a deep breath, and kisses him back. It’s difficult to be here, it’s difficult to let herself be loved like this. But touching Rhys is always easy, and soon her fingers find his collar and his jaw and the raven curls at the back of his head. And she can feel him smile against her mouth when she tugs him closer.

“Does this help?” he asks. Feyre just nods, and kisses him again. The rough of Rhys’s palms walk up her back, under her shirt, until his hand rests behind her neck.

“I have less anxiety when you’re touching me,” she admits, and Rhys chuckles softly.

“That’s good,” he says, and in the next moment he’s lifted her up out of his lap and laid her back down on the couch cushions. He settles easily between her legs, and every time it’s a thrill to Feyre that he’s hard because of her. His mouth wanders from her lips to her throat to her collar bone and back up.

“I’m not mad,” he says, because that’s always what she’s afraid of and he knows it. “Of course I’m not, you’re such a good girl, how could I be?”

And like clockwork those two words make her brain slide, and her eyes close as his tongue travels the indent that runs from under her sternum to her navel.

“Please,” Feyre breathes. Rhys just looks up at her from under the ink of his eyelashes, and continues kissing down her stomach. “Please,” she says again, and this time he leans up and kisses her heavy on the mouth.

“That’s such a pretty word on your tongue,” he tells her. Feyre doesn’t respond, she’s concentrating on Rhys’s belt buckle and the button beneath it. He glances down, and then gives her a pitying look. “My poor darling,” he says. His teeth graze the corner of her jaw. “You need this, huh?”

Feyre wins her battle with Rhys’s zipper and slides her hand down the front of his jeans. She’s rewarded with a shudder that rips across his shoulders, and it only makes her melt further into the couch.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“You need it?” Rhys asks again. He grinds against her palm and she loves how even when he’s in control, he comes undone a little under her hands. “You need me to fuck it better?”

“Yes,” Feyre says again, and now she shoves his jeans the rest of the way off him, and Rhys pulls his shirt over his head in one motion. He gets his mouth on her throat and his hand on her breast, and Feyre’s limbs reach up and around him to pull him closer than skin. He drags her tights off, agonizingly slow, and then her shirt, and every inch that’s exposed is immediately pressed up against the warmth of him, searing but sweet.

“Tell me how much,” Rhys says, and it’s only the cotton of her underwear that’s between them when he rolls his hips against hers. Feyre closes her eyes, speaks against the slant of his cheek.

“Too much,” she says. He hooks her leg over his shoulder and Feyre’s back arches up off the couch. “And too often. You have no idea…” she trails off, trying to press up against Rhys as he moves all too slowly.

“Too often?” he asks. His fingers drift down, toying with the waistband of her panties.

“All the time,” she gasps. Her hands scrabble on his shoulders as he drags the elastic down over her hips.

“I wish you’d tell me.” He starts to kiss down over her breasts, but Feyre pulls him back up to her lips and slide her tongue against his. He groans softly in her mouth, and she pulls her knees up the sides of his ribcage, digs her heels into base of his back. “I wish you’d lean over, while we’re watching TV, and tell me how bad…” here Rhys pauses to draw a shaky breath because Feyre is wet against his naked cock, “…you need to be fucked.”

“I’m telling you now,” Feyre argues, and lifts her hips to prove her point.

“You are,” Rhys concedes, and presses up against heat of her. “And you’re doing such a good job.” He pushes inside her, and Feyre’s head drops back against the cushions. She breathes in, and it feels like a long time she’s been holding her breath. “Look at me,” Rhys says, and when she opens her eyes he’s watching her face change when he moves out and back in. His hips punch forward when she meets the violet of his gaze, and Feyre gasps.

“That’s it baby,” Rhys murmurs. “Keep looking at me.”

It’s easier said than done- Rhys’s eyes scald her and every time their hips touch her mind slides.

“Come on honey, you can do it.”

Feyre’s eyes snap open, but somehow there’s five hundred years in that stare and it’s a lot to bear. She tips her head back and throws her arm over her face.

And then Rhys’s fingers close over her throat, and it’s strange that this makes her feel safer, that it always makes her feel safer when he’s holding her down because every other moment she’s on the verge of floating away altogether.

“Is that better?” Rhys asks. His eyes darken above her, and she loves knowing that he likes her like this.

“Yes,” she breathes, and his grip tightens.

“You’re so good,” he tells her. “My good girl.”

Feyre can’t help it, she moans at the praise and the sound pushes Rhys’s pace up. This time when her eyes squeeze shut he lets her. Sits up on his heels to get a deeper angle and puts his teeth on her ankle.

“You want to be good for me, don’t you?” Rhys asks. He slides his thumb against her tongue for a second, before touching it to her clit. She can’t answer, because he keeps his rhythm while he talks to her and it’s knocking the breath from her lungs. “You look so pretty like this, baby.” His eyes rake over her, hooded and muddled, and there’s nothing quite so intoxicating as watching him look at her.

Rhys leans his forearms on either side of her face and leans down over her. Feyre’s hands come up automatically to follow the muscles of his back. She thinks he’ll kiss her, but when she tilts her face up he just flicks his eyes down to her mouth and then back up. He slows down now, moves in long, languid strokes that make Feyre feel like she’s drowning.

“You know,” he murmurs. “You can always tell me if you need this.” This time he does kiss her, and the next time he speaks it’s right next to her ear. “I’d drop everything and bend you over. Empty your head just like you like.”

Feyre‘s nails dig into Rhys’s shoulders and he shifts again, moving fast now and breathing shallow.

“Come on baby,” he says, and she can hear the strain in his voice. “Feel good for me.”

She doesn’t need to be told, he always feels good and today is no exception. Not when the snap of his hips makes a steady undertow that she is fast being dragged in by, not when the smell of him this close is enough to drive her to distraction, not when she can feel him start to chase his own release and knows that she’s the one making him feel like this.

“Give it to me,” she whispers. “I want it, want to feel you…”

But Rhys just laughs and shakes his head. “You first, angel.”

Feyre is tempted to see if she can make him lose control, but the way he moves is too good to ignore. And, she’s never one to pass up an opportunity to show him how good she can be.

“Right now,” Rhys says, under her ear, and honestly it’s so easy with him. Feyre breaks in between one breath and the next, and it’s a thing that wrings her out over and over in the cage of Rhys’s arms. It’s somewhere in the aftershocks that Rhys comes too, and she hasn’t told him but this is the part to Feyre that feels so intense she never quite feels like she’ll survive it. But of course she does, and minutes later the world filters back in and the couch cushions are scratchy against her back and there is sweat in Rhys’s hair and her heart is still beating painfully hard in her chest.

And Feyre feels calm, in this moment, which is rare but increasing. She presses her nose against Rhys’s forehead, where he’s half dozing on her chest, and tries to remember the feeling of it, because there will be a next time that she feels anxious and afraid, but if she’s very lucky, and she has been very lucky, there will also be a next time for this part right here, and that makes everything worthwhile.  

****

Well hello there angels! It's been a hot minute, I'm rusty don't laugh at me!

But seriously a lot of things have happened and I still kinda feel a little lost (read: completely out of control)- and not all in bad ways. I've been meaning to post some one shot type things and to talk about my book but man it is HARD. So for now here is a little angsty thing that may or may not be just be T-Swifting it about my current sitch and my book links: UK and international US eBook Australia

And ummm this feels like I am too irrelevant to pull this anymore and I'm sorry if you do not want to be on this but,

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @elentiya-whitethorn @rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red @alerialumina

[politemagic]

slasher iii & slasher iv

oh geez oh boy oh god here it is. i had to strangle this thing out of my brain and she came out kicking and screaming. unedited, just some fun slasher iii & slasher iv content on this saturday evening. this is... something

there's a good bit of triggers in here, please proceed with caution.

1.15k words

The two of them are just hardcore horror fans, right? They've seen all the classics a million times but as they're getting older it's just not enough. III is the first one to suggest it as he turns off the television after watching the newest horror box office flop. At first, IV thought it was a joke. An outlandish suggestion to throw him off his game. That was the kind of jokester that III was. But there was no humor in his voice when he said in a sinisterly quiet voice.

"We could just do that shit ourselves."

The thought caused excitement to pulse through IV's veins as III laid out the details of his fantasy. It was almost too perfect, he thought. Their calculus professor was a piece of shit who was always too hard on the class, so he made an obvious target. He had no family, which further eased IV's conscience. They'd be doing the world a favor.

It was an experience unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, the thrill of watching the light wink out of his horrified eyes as he clawed at the masks covering their faces, watching the fight leave his body as he fell limp to the floor. He found he didn't quite mind the feeling of his blood soaked jeans clinging to his legs.

III had done most of the dirty work, but who was IV to deprive him of the joy he received from plunging the knife into his victim's stomach? They tidied. up after themselves enough to erase their presence, and waited for someone to find him.

The discovery of the beloved professor’s body the next day came as a shock to the whole community, leaving the town a worried mess. Things only got worse as III and IV selected their next target. She was a young woman, engaged to be married, known for babysitting just about every kid in town– the two of them included. IV’s stomach soured at the thought, but the grin on III’s face stirred his excitement enough to quell his conscience. 

“Don’t worry mate, she’ll be perfect.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder and pulled him into his pickup truck, the bed loaded with enough hunting knives to butcher a stampede.

And perfect she was. They managed to slip into the garage undetected, slinking through the darkened hallways towards the illumination and chatter of the television in the living room. She had nodded off on the couch, her head tilted back and nestled into the corner, surrounded by blankets and pillows. III gave him a silent nod and IV walked around behind her, wrapping an arm around her neck and clamping his hand over her mouth. Her eyes shot open in fear, panic overtaking her body as her eyes raked down every intimidating inch of III as he knelt in front of her, sliding a knife out of his boot. 

IV could feel her gnashing at the flesh of his palm, and simply pressed the crook of his elbow further into her jugular. He could feel her resolve dwindling as she thrashed against his hold, trying to shove III’s towering figure away from her. But III only laughed and swatted away her comparatively small hands as he began tracing the tip of his blade up her pajama clad leg, the twinkle in his eye indicated to IV that he was thoroughly enjoying the muffled whimpers coming from behind IV’s hand, relishing in the way that her body lurched away from him.

When IV felt his hand dampening from her tears, he audibly groaned, looking down to see her beautiful eyes squeezed shut, tears running down her cheeks. If his mask wasn’t covering his mouth he would have leaned down and licked those tears off of her perfect skin himself. But instead, he managed to catch III’s attention, nodding down to her streaming tears and III laughed evilly.

He leaned over her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, gently caressing her cheeks as he did so, despite IV’s hands covering most of her face. 

“Hey, no use for that,” III cooed. “No point of doing that at all, love.”

Her eyes opened, a bone-chilling fear shooting through her body as she saw the murderous glint in III’s eyes. The tears flowed faster, and as she tried again to break free III restrained her arms with ease, resting his body weight on top of her as he brought his knife up to her line of sight again. 

“We’re going to have a lovely time, the three of us.”

She screamed from behind IV’s hand, making one last attempt to bite at him and managed to find purchase on the meat of his palm, causing him to yelp. She sank her teeth in until she could taste his blood on her tongue, but she found his grip only tightened. When she dared a glance above her, she could see his eyes shut, breathing labored, but when he looked down at her, she realized what a mistake she had made. 

A mixture of her tears and IV’s blood dripped from her chin, and the sight sent a shockwave of excitement through III’s body. He was ecstatic to have a partner in all this, to get to experience his wildest fantasies with his best friend. To share this new side of him with his best friend. 

“Now for the fun part.” He whispered, more to IV than to her, but the words caused her heart to sink, she felt the resolve fly from her body– there was no salvation for her. The coppery tang of his blood on her tongue that had once tasted like victory now tasted of defeat. Not only would she die at their hands, she would die with their repulsive presence invading her every sense.

III felt the familiar rush of euphoria as the blade pierced through her belly, her muffled scream like a favorite song heard on the radio. He didn’t miss the way IV’s hip pressed slightly into the couch, spreading a wide grin across his lips.

This would be the fun part, indeed.

Hours later, III laid down in his bed, resting an arm behind his head as he replayed the events of the day, that same grin still plastered on his face. He felt his eyes drifting closed, sleep ready to take his body when he heard the sound of his phone vibrating on his nightstand. His heart leaped at the sight of your name, and your sweet message.

i guess you turned in early tonight. sweet dreams, i love you <3

As he laid back down, his eyes falling shut one more time, his mind conjured up the most beautiful plan for you. 

A special surprise.