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*maniacal laughter*

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Bold what your muse likes, Bold-italicize what they love, strikethru what they hate

REPOST DON’T REBLOG

Tagged by: @nefarious-bones​ Tagging: if you see this and want to do it consider yourself tagged

Taste:

Sweet | Salty | Bitter | Umami | Sour | Chocolate | Bacon | Vegetables | Fruit | Berries | Carrots | Cake | Cookies | Pretzels | Pasta | Tomatoes | Applesauce | Sauerkraut | Pickles | Olives | Potatoes | Ice Cream | Pineapple | Pineapple on pizza | Fish | Beef | Garlic | Spinach | Mushrooms | Cheese | Milk | Juice | Marmite | Beetroot | Anchovies | Gefilte Fish | Peppers (the spicier the better)| Wholewheat bread | Marshmallows | Mango | Broccoli | Peanut butter | Nutella | Mint and chocolate | Cashew nuts | Tofu | Brussels sprouts | Grape flavor

Touch:

Soft | Rough | Smooth | Sticky | Slimy | Hot | Cold | Damp | Wet | Clammy | Coarse | Fur | Velvet | Silk | Lace | Hot metal | Cold metal | Paper | Plastic | Bubble wrap | Wool | Wood | Tree bark | Hot asphalt | Leaves | Wicker | Sand | Rocks | Rough rocks | Smooth rocks | Hair | Skin | Tight hugs | Gentle hugs | Lip (fang) kisses | Skin (bone) kisses | Holding hands | Rough touches | Gentle touches | Scratches | Bites | Sunlight | Light sheets | Thick blankets | Baggy clothes

Scent:

Flowers | Sea water | Chocolate | Fish | Cooking onions | Cleaning products | Citrus | Lemons | Grapefruit | Oranges | Rain | Freshly cut grass | Wet dirt | Wood | Cologne | Perfume | Fire | Smoke | Gasoline | Tires | Paint | Chlorine | Pools | Fresh bread | Cooking bacon | New books | Coffee | Linen | Vanilla | Cinnamon | New car | Coconut | Sunscreen | Nail polish | Mint | Cigarette smoke | Leather

Sound:

Loud sounds | High pitched sounds | Low pitched sounds | Quiet sounds | Loud voices | Soft voices | High voices | Deep voices | Morning voice | Snoring | Rain on windows | Firecrackle | Crickets | Frogs | Typing on a keyboard | Horse hooves on gravel | High heels | Laughter | Deep laughter | Giggling | Purring | Dog bark | Howling | Car engine | Distant chatter | Bird chirps | Classical music | Pop music | Folk music | Rock music | Country music | Klezmer music | Violin | Piano | Frying food | Nails tapping

Sight:

Red | Orange | Yellow | Green | Blue | Purple | Pink | Black | White | Silver | Gold | Shiny | Dull | Shapes | Orange lighting | Natural lighting | Seaside scenery | Forest scenery | Field scenery | Patterns | Clear skies | Cloudy skies | Night time | Day time | Sunrise | Sunset | Stained glass windows | Old buildings | Stone buildings | Wood cabins | Spring | Summer | Fall | Winter | Brick buildings | Moss | Flowers | Gardens | Hedge mazes | Corn mazes | Lakes | Rivers

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~Care for a drink? Fellby is up next. So in other words WTU Grillby. I call him Fellby just by proxy. It’s not actually going to be his name. A close friend of mine RPs as him and since the RP is a conglomeration of AU its just easier to call him Fellby <3 

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maybe i should make a separate account for my ic blog

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True/False game. Make an assumption about me in my ask and I’ll tell you if its true or false. Go.

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Jimmy  Santiago  Baca  Lines

Excerpts from the Mariposa Letters pt. 3  (  from his book  Singing at the Gates ) Bold   the ones that apply to your muse,  italicize the ones that your muse directs at someone else.

so many men with in rags and broken souls  •  crawl up with dusty shoes from gutters  •  carry blades in their pockets  •  flowers that have survived their thorns  •  dry baked ground •  I am strong enough to hear them  •  I raise myself from contemplation and walk toward them  •   their language of sorrows  •  songs like stars in their heart •  stomped on and drowned  •  songs are the magic that keeps men alive when nothing else will  •  onward through a throng of thorny men  • vulgar and wrinkled truths  •  badlands of the cursed and exiled  •  fingered them like old coins  •  worthless in this land that loved money  •  chained children with lies  •  I have silenced my poetry  •  clear screams in the night  •  men slicing their throats •  victims being beaten by men I know •  clanging of prison gates  •  voices of tyranny  •  muscles of the universe  •  like a cat when streets become empty  •  in the darkness I sprang silently through broken windows  •  sing what I learned  •  those rocky streams one meets on a long journey  •  I open the envelope  •  brush aside a bough of heavy branches  •  come upon a clearing of flower and soft grass  •  how your voice runs clambering over the smell of my sweating flesh •  secrets of strange lands that shine in me  •  place feathers with leather strings in your hair  •  the lock of hair you have given me I will wear around my neck  •  pendant made with eagle claws  •  pieces of wood that click and clatter softly  •  lifting against my breast as I run and run and run •  a singer with flights of birds  •  a little boy gone mad  •  aromas of earth  • women whose bodies are like deep bass drums •  call me to sing and dance  • my tongue the sun’s spear  •  I would have known me in my disguise  •  first green sprouts  •  the dry dirt of my flesh  •  dreams flew into my fields of my heart  •  dark eyes burning burning  •  strewn kernels of corn  •  I climbed the temple steps to the open square below  •  where creatures gathered  •  I reached the altar  •  I lit the four torches that threw light to the four directions  •  I blew away the ashes on the stone  •  placed my heart there and when the sun touched it,  it struck up • bursting in high flames  • exulting in their renewal  •  with the holy fire I molded myself feathers.

Tagged by:   @judgehund Tagging:    @nefarious-bones @snapxback @outbraves

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 i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  i’m sorry.  I AM SO FUCKING SORRY.           it should have been me.             i know it should have been me.   

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—Yes. And violently? —Violently.

William Brewer, from Voices As Of Lions Coming Down (via violentwavesofemotion)

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Olivia O'Brien // Empty

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* The Lost Soul Appears

Save him?

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sometimes i wish it had killed me.

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"───hey," a soft purr as he removes his cigar from red's femur, "─that didn't hurt too bad, did it?" a curl of his smile, he pulls red a little closer on his lap. There's soft kisses edging up his neck, purrs growing louder, "───where do you want it next?"

with a shuddering breath he squirms with pain and delight in his lap, vaguely admiring the burn on his own thigh with heart-shaped eyelight.  tilting his head away, he offers more of cervical vertebrae to the larger skeleton, but then taps a finger against one.

❛ how ‘bout right ‘ere?  it’ll be like a love bite, heh. ❜

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why??? do people reblog other people’s rp threads i don’t understand

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fellhund:

          He sees the carnal instinct ignite in the other’s eyes──── Soon, a jolt rushes up his spine, making his stomach flutter and his heart thump ever-harder. As soon as the feeling comes, he’s gone ─ Feeling the body disperse below him, Sans was much too slow to keep up with the movements.

     It jams into his shoulder blade before he has time to turn around.

  Blood spurts from his jaws as it digs in, the sensation of pain ringing through his body. Claws dig into the snow as he keels over, breath shot and soul racing ──── For a moment, he was still. Dead. Feeling the hollowness of his end before something unnatural brings him back to life.

       His movements still heavy, slowly, he looks over his shoulder at the other ─               his pupils sharpening to slits.

    “────get. it. out.”

oh, sure────excuse me, would you please remove the knife that is restricting my mobility so that i might kill you??  

fat chance; a snowball in hotlands has better luck than this guy.  

no, sans isn’t finished with him yet────just as the anger and terror are not finished with sans yet.

he leaves that bone dagger buried in the other’s shoulder blade just as another materializes in his hand.  he raises it overhead and brings it down upon his larger counterpart with silent and dark glee to fill him up with sharp objects like a living, suffering pincushion.

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Here’s a Underfell Sans drawing a did a while ago!! Hope you like it! (੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭̸*✧⁺˚