#blowing you all the kisses

[biographydivider]

"I'm just Ken" and I miss ya

If you're a Ken I'll be your buddy 💗 miss you too BB, hoping life has been kind x

[s-aint-elmo]

pass it on!

(ID in alt text)

[taroet]

our dead deserve to see you happy. — k and peeta<3

Peeta stared at the ground, the weight of her words settling heavily on his chest. Our dead deserve to see you happy. They echoed in his mind, tugging at places he thought he’d buried. Rue’s laughter, Finnick’s crooked grin, Prim’s quiet bravery— they all flickered to life, as vivid as if they were still here. But they weren’t.

That was the unshakable truth. They were gone & their absence carved holes in him so deep he wasn’t sure they’d ever fill. Happiness seemed like something fragile, distant— a fleeting idea he didn’t have the strength to chase.

He rubbed the scarred skin of his palm absentmindedly, the sensation grounding him. Happy. Could he even remember what that felt like? The small moments came to mind: the warmth of bread fresh from the oven, the feel of dirt between his fingers in the garden, the soft rhythm of shared silence. Those moments weren’t happiness, exactly, but they were close.

Still, a part of him resisted. How could he let himself feel joy when so many others had been denied it? When he’d lived & they hadn’t? “ I don’t know if I can do that, ” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as if admitting it too loudly might make it more real. “ Be happy. Not after everything. ”

The words lingered, raw & honest, but something about them felt unfinished. He stood there, the silence stretching out, his thoughts churning. Finally, after a long moment, he exhaled. “ But I’ll try. ” It wasn’t a promise — not really — but it was as close as he could get. For the dead. For what they’d fought for. Maybe even for himself.

[napping-sapphic]

i’m a horrible influence btw because i would drag you into bed and do absolutely everything in my power to keep you there for as long as possible

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[campingwiththecharmings]

^^me every time i see fen in my activity ❤️

ok i gotta ask: what was the scene that you cut from your latest santi fic? (and could we maybe possibly see that scene? 👉👈)

(this is about this fic, for those who'd like context lol)

ll;kdl lol nonnieeeee ily 😆

i actually cut two scenes from this fic, one of which i actually wrote and the other which i wanted to write but ended up only mentioning (*cough*thewindowsex*cough*). i was gonna hold onto the one i wrote to use somewhere else, but odds are i'll probably end up forgetting about it soooo sure. here you go nonnie, thank you for your interest 😘

this was what i had originally written for the car ride over to the hotel:

When you meet his gaze, he holds it, moving his hand slowly up beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as you part them for him. You hold your breath as he reaches the barrier of your panties. He can tell how soaked you already are for him, fingers pressing against you lightly through the damp fabric. 

His gaze holds yours as he moves his fingers, lightly circling right above where your clit is, making your breath stutter in your chest. You squirm in the seat, tilting your hips in an effort to gain more friction, but then the car behind you honks, dragging Santiago’s attention back to the road, and he presses the gas pedal. His fingers continue to tease you though, the pressure increasing slightly as he changes tactics, swiping his fingers up and down your slit. You gasp when he catches your clit just right on one particular swipe, hips jolting involuntarily. You whine his name, when he does it again, reaching out to grasp his wrist. His jaw clenches at your touch, hand flexing a little beneath your dress.

“Please,” you beg, chewing your lip as he glances quickly over at you with a muttered curse.

You can only imagine how you must look right now, needy and desperate for him to fuck you, even if it’s just with his fingers. With a growl, he slips beneath the waistband of your panties, sliding his calloused fingertips between the lips of your sex. You choke on a moan as he circles your clit, head falling back against the seat. The angle is a little awkward so he goes slow, drawing out your pleasure gradually with each swipe of his fingers. 

“Almost there,” he mutters, slipping a finger down your wet slit, and for a moment, you’re not sure if he’s talking to himself or to you.

A whine escapes you when he dips two fingers inside, gently massaging the walls of your cunt. He curses again, mumbling something in Spanish as he pumps them in and out of you, wet squelching mixing with the sound of your heavy breathing. You can feel the tension building inside you already; you’re so close, the heat rising, the feeling that you’re going to burst any second. 

You try to warn him, but he changes the angle of his fingers and hits something devastating inside you and that’s all it takes. You come with a gasp, cunt fluttering around his fingers as he continues to pump them in and out of you, prolonging your release. As you come down, you notice that you’ve stopped moving, the car no longer on the road but in the parking lot of a hotel. Santiago’s hand is still between your legs, his fingers still buried inside you, and your skin heats with embarrassment.

You glance over at him, breath hitching when you meet his gaze—his eyes are molten, pupils blown wide with lust. 

When he removes his fingers, you whimper a little, eyelids fluttering as they drag along your still-sensitive walls. He brings them to his lips, humming as his tongue swirls around the digits, collecting all of your slick. You swallow thickly at the sight, heat already pooling again in your belly.

[nadas-dirthalen]

putting out into the ether for the zillionth time that i really love veilguard. i love to chew on its lore. i love thinking about the devouring storm, the executors, and all the clues we *haven't* found/discussed yet. i love the companions and how they act as put-together as professionals in their 30s often act (and that taash acts so believably how a nonbinary, maybe-autistic person discovering themselves in their early 20s acts. ask me how i know). i love the romances and how much life there is in each one, yet how much room exists for headcanoning as well. i love veilguard's portrayal of solas, and i love how rook mirrors him so well, so devastatingly.

wishing there was a way to shine a bat-signal at the folks at bioware without directly addressing/tagging them directly (and implying they should reply, like on bsky). wishing i could give them all head pats from afar.

i really like veilguard. i hope they know how loved it is.

because it's damned good art.

[gunsatthaphan]

"look at us. how did it get to this?"

[ahollowgrave]

“When people get a glimpse of me I’d like them to feel like it is a good omen.”

-- Jenny Slate, Little Weirds

[spearxwind]

Happy 10th birthday to Cercerion!

OUGHHH UR RIGHT CERCIE IS 10 YEARS OLD NOW !!!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY BOY BELOVEDEST DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HIS WHOLE LIFE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 6: Dress-up

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[nmixxgifs]

😘😘😘😘😘

[front-facing-pokemon]

[seungkwanis]

MC sunwoo 🦝

[napping-sapphic]

*dreamy sigh* i am once again thinking about butch women

[ohlookitsthearkhamknight]

Thats rly straight yup straight as this fucking circle ⭕️