#inkery

[inkery-writers]

OPEN TESTING IS A GO

look at this litte octopus isn't it adorable? it is eager to write and it encourages you to write also!

Inkery has officially gained google's approval and can be downloaded by anyone (with an android device)!! we are live! we exist!

(we exist in a beta testing stage so bugs are possible and i do apologise for their existence but bugs are essential to a healthy ecosystem and i cannot catch them all myself yet)

[torillatavataan]

Michaela Söderholm wearing the Finnish national costume of Tuuteri, Ingria

[pick-a-plush]

have you seen any of the bumbleberry hollows plushies? we just got them in at my work last month (i work at a toy store) and i love them so much!!! id love to see a poll with some of them ♡

Omg no how have I never seen these absolute CUTIES before?!? Thank you for showing them to me! I have to adopt one now ahhh! I’ll definitely be adding this line to the regular rotation! But for now here’s a few for everyone to see and dote on!

[magicalshopping]

♡ Inkeri’s Lavender Candle by TrendyNot ♡

[kulttuurinkurittama]

Joskus mietin et mitä ton kissan päässä liikkuu

Siinä hän istuu pöydän ääressä, tuijottaa mua ja kehrää. Siis joo "ihanaa, ihminen lähellä" mut ystävä hyvä, tää on jo vähä ihmeellistä.

[ohpollenpowder]

I don't have any Charr-sibs. And I didn't include the Konu-sibs because I already had the twins for Humans. Maybe we'll do a round with them for White Day!

[arofili]

m o o n l i g h t

   ✩   chapter 09. counsel (preview)

@khazadweek​ day five  ✩  erebor // environment  ✩  [chapter 1]

✩✩✩

Thorin was awoken by a harsh rapping at his window. Grumbling, he rolled over to glare at whatever it was that had stirred him from an admittedly restless sleep.

It was a raven. Thorin glared at it for a moment—surely no message could be so important as to disturb the slumber of the king-to-be!—and then bolted upright as he recognized the sheen of the raven’s feathers.

“Inkeri,” he breathed, rushing to open the window without bothering to throw anything on over his underclothes.

The raven swooped in and perched on his chair by the fire. Thorin’s hands trembled as he untied the letter around her ankle, and he did not allow himself to think before tearing it open.

There, in Bilbo’s distinctive, decorative handwriting, was the response he had been waiting for with less patience than he wished to admit.

Dear Thorin, it began, and he smiled at the endearment.

          Or should I call you ‘Majesty’? No, I think ‘Thorin’ will have to do, for you are not, after all, my King. And King you shall certainly be, whatever it is that bothersome Council of yours decides! If they deny you your rightful title, after all the goblins and spiders you’ve killed to earn it, why I will have to write to them myself and give them a very stern talking-to.

Thorin laughed softly and shook his head. Dear Bilbo! Just imagining Rangvaldr’s face at such a letter would keep his heart merry at the Council tonight.

          But enough of that for now. You asked how the Shire is, and I shall tell you. You said I would not have as many reparations to do on Bag End as you have in Erebor, but I do not know if you would agree if you could have seen my hobbit-hole when I returned! What a mess! I had been gone so long—though it was only a year!—that I had been declared DEAD. What nonsense! My home was ransacked, and my possessions put out on auction, and the Sackville-Bagginses (my most bothersome relatives) had very nearly signed the deed for Bag End. I arrived home only just in time to rescue my things from the lawfully-sanctioned thieves, and still I think dreadful Lobelia Sackville-Baggins got away with some of my good silver spoons!           The Return Journey was lovely, though now I wish we’d gone a bit faster. We celebrated Yule with Beorn, and my, was that a merry gathering! I slept for a day afterward, and in a real bed that time, not in the barn. We stopped in Rivendell as well, and I heard a great many wondrous stories from Master Elrond, and from Gandalf, of course. Did you know he and the other WIzards went to fight a Necromancer in Mirkwood as we were busy dealing with Smaug? I suppose he had a good reason to leave us after all!           Gandalf accompanied me all the way to the border of the Shire. We passed through the Trollshaws on the way, and goodness gracious! The stone trolls were quite funny in the sunlight, and removed enough from the terror of them about to eat me, I had quite the laugh at their expense. We rediscovered much of the gold we buried, also. I hope you do not mind that I took some of it for safe-keeping—I know I said the Arkenstone was my fourteenth share of the treasure, and I left before anyone could argue otherwise, for I very much meant it. But this will line my pockets well enough...and should any of you dwarves come to visit me, I will be glad to return some of it to you! (But you will have to come before I spend it!)           They’ve taken to calling me ‘mad’ and ‘queer’ here in the Shire, and I find I do not particularly mind it. Before my Adventure I was very concerned about how folks thought of me, but now I know that it only truly matters what my friends think.           That is what brings me to my next point. It cheers me greatly to read of the Company settling back in to Erebor! I am glad Fíli is mending well, and I had a good laugh imagining Nori’s gaudy decorations in his new rooms. You shall have to encourage all of them to write to me as well—though maybe not all at once. I would not want your poor bird-princess to be weighed down by thirteen letters!           Do not worry about her, by the way. I fed her well and I think she probably likes me better than you, now! It was difficult to get her to leave. I like her quite well, also. You shall have to write often so I might spend more time with her!           I am quite glad to be home again. I am a Shire-hobbit at heart, and though I shall always remember our adventure fondly, I am most comfortable in my armchair. I hope you are half as comfortable in your throne!           And yet, I do find I miss you. All of you—but you in particular, Thorin. You have no idea how lovely it was to receive your letter. Please, write again soon.           And let me know at once what your Council decides about the Kingship! Truly, I am outraged they would ever doubt your competence. Even I, frightened as I was by yourself under the dragon-sickness, know you are free of it now and ever shall be. You tell them that!

Sincerely, Bilbo Baggins

Thorin’s heart was warmer than he could ever remember. He beamed at the letter, and was about to scramble for ink and paper to write back immediately, when there was a knock at the door.

“Thorin,” Dís said. “May I come in?”

He scowled, and hurriedly folded the letter, hiding it in his desk drawer. “Just a moment,” he called. “I’m not dressed.”

Hurriedly, he closed the window and threw on an over-robe. “Come in,” he said.

Dís rolled her eyes to see him in such a disheveled state. She moved to sit by the fire, only to start as Inkeri cawed a warning.

“Thorin!” she exclaimed. “What is a bird doing in your room?”

“I just received a letter,” he explained, flushing. He should have let Inkeri out before closing the window.

Dís eyed him shrewdly. “From...your halfling?”

“From Bilbo, yes,” he admitted.

“Mm.” Dís did not sound pleased. “Well. That is no reason for a raven to be indoors. Shoo!”

Inkeri squawked and flapped her wings.

“She is a scion of Roäc,” Thorin sighed. “Show her some respect.” But he opened the window again and ushered her out, softly promising to have sweetmeats for her next time he called for her service.

✩✩✩

[...well, that’s all I have written so far! I had hoped to finish ch9 for today’s themes, but I didn’t quite get there. Still, this is a thousand more words than I had yesterday! I promise I haven’t forgotten about this fic - I hope to update soon-ish!!]

[meerkeri]

Finally decided to stay at the station and deal with Robert and I discovered possibly my favorite interaction ever

[sarahscribbles]

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟓𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @springdandelixn 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫! 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬!

“....the entire palace is buzzing with the news! The Allmother is inviting some of her Vanir cousins to the Spring Fete this year for the first time in 500 years!”

“I hear their men outshine even the Princes! Some fresh faces and bodies to admire would be a dream!”

“None could outshine Prince Thor! He was sent here straight from Valhalla!” 

A derisive snort. “Put it to bed, Signe. Prince Thor is enraptured with his mortal. You don’t stand a chance of winning his affections.”

“How can you possibly…”

How could she possibly what? Whatever the girl's quarrel had been it was something you would never know, for the sound of her voice melted away as swiftly as a dewdrop on snow, becoming nothing more than a faint drone in the distance. The gods themselves couldn’t have pulled the reason for her upset from you, seeing as your attention had been locked on one word, one name.

Signe. 

Hearing her name had you stiffen against the tree trunk, every muscle and nerve pulled taut in both fear and excitement. If Signe was here, sitting by the bank of the lake, then no doubt so were Eira and Inkeri - the three likely taking advantage of a rare afternoon of leisure to enjoy the spring sun. It held little heat, but the season had arrived late this year and any chance to forget the frigid winter was one all the servants were grasping eagerly. It had only just passed midday and the sun was at its peak, meaning the girls would likely loll by the lake until it began to slip behind the Asgardian mountains. 

Three of your handmaidens - the girls who helped you undress, helped you bathe, and kept you company through large parts of the day - sat frightfully close to where you were precariously concealed behind the sweeping leaves of the willow tree. Even with the slight breeze that rustled the brilliant green leaves your view of the lake beyond was still obscured, leaving you with no idea as to where the girls actually were.

The uncertainty of how close they were, of how much they could see through the branches, was both unnerving and exhilarating, and you could feel your blood burn with pure adrenaline. Each pump of your heart only heightened your senses; you could hear the whisper of the leaves as the wind continued to pass through them, you could detect the heady sweet smell of hyacinths amidst the wildflowers that were coming to life in patches on the edge of the lake…

You could feel every muscle in Loki’s sinful tongue as he knelt between your legs.

His quiet roll of laughter told you that he had felt you stiffen and you wanted to do nothing more than to curse him to Hel, but that raised the danger of drawing unwanted attention to your little tryst. 

“You’re suddenly so very tense, pet. Whatever could be the matter?” he taunted, licking a torturously slow stripe along the length of your dripping cunt. 

A strangled curse tumbled freely from your lips. You had lost track of how long he had kept you dangling on the edge of release, propelling you there over and over without letting you freefall into bliss. He was a master at delaying your pleasure, at making you buck and writhe until you would do close to anything to be permitted to topple over. You hadn’t yet resorted to pleading, meaning the torture he was subjecting you to was far from over. 

You made to try and push his head away, momentarily forgetting about the shimmering green seidr that bound your arms to the tree trunk behind. There was no way for you to escape. 

“You know…fuck…you know precisely what’s the matter!” you hissed quietly, swallowing the moan that bubbled in your throat when his tongue skillfully circled your swollen clit. 

The ripples of pleasure that washed over you almost had you seeing stars, almost had you forgetting about the maids that still sat giggling by the edge of the lake. You wanted to beg him, to plead with him to send you soaring off the edge and scream his name for all of Valhalla to hear. You wanted him to ruin you right here beneath the willow tree - the place that was enmeshed in the story of you and Loki. 

But the maids.

Loki didn’t answer immediately, and you felt his grip on your hips tighten as he pulled you firmly against his mouth. He continued his assault slowly, licking and swirling and circling until you were all but certain you would pass out with the effort of containing the noises that were stirring in your throat. 

How desperately you wanted to scream his name. 

“You’re going to have to enlighten me, pet,” Loki said wickedly, still buried between your thighs. “I’m certain I have no idea what could possibly have you so tense.”

You yanked again against the wisps of his seidr still binding you to the tree, and he answered with a teasing lap of his tongue directly over your clit. “The…the maids,...you asshole!”

Loki leaned back on his heels, his lips glistening with your arousal and his eyes alight with mischief. Almost instantly your hips began to roll against the air, desperately seeking the warm wetness of his mouth that had made you feel so good. 

“Scared of getting caught, are we? My, my, pet, where has your sense of adventure gone?” he taunted.

“Loki…” Your quiet protest was barely a whisper, was barely a protest to begin with. Arousal pooled like molten lava between your thighs, even with the danger of being discovered. 

You knew you would beg him to ruin you right here if he made you. 

“I have a proposition for you, pet,” Loki said, wiping your arousal from his lips in one smooth brush of his hand. “You either come, loudly, right here against this tree and we return to the palace, or I continue edging you until nightfall. You have thirty seconds to decide.”

You could do nothing but stare blankly at him in disbelief, in horror at the decision he had laid before you. To do the former would be to disgrace yourself in front of your maids - if they could even tell it was you - but the latter would mean your imminent demise. To be kept so torturously close to release for hours would be torture like nothing else, but to come undone would mean having to hide in your chamber for a week. How could you look your maids in the eye after they heard Loki bring you to a blinding climax? Because there was no doubt that it would be blinding.

It was an impossible choice, yet….

“Make me come. Please, Loki,” you said before you knew the words were leaving your mouth. 

A feline smirk curled his lips and you watched his eyes darken to near obsidian. “Loudly, pet,” he reminded you. 

You nodded quickly, eyes fluttering briefly closed. “Loudly,” you promised him.

“Good girl,” Loki praised you, wasting no time in continuing his assault. 

His tongue immediately settled into the exact pace that had the edge rise within you like a cresting wave, building higher and higher with each masterful swirl of his tongue. In seconds the coil deep in your stomach was wound tight and quiet whimpers were falling from your lips like petals from a rose. Loki squeezed your hips - a silent reminder of your promise to him only minutes before. 

You erupted for him in seconds.

Your release crashed down around you like a winter storm, and his name was pulled from you in a scream you couldn't have contained if you had tried. 

Loki.

Loki.

Loki!

It melted quickly to a stream of broken, wanton moans as your orgasm continued to roll through you, seemingly endless beneath the assault of his tongue. In the distance, you swore you heard the sound of girlish giggles fade to nothing, swore you heard a deafening silence settle over the palace grounds, but so great was the pleasure that consumed you that you barely even noticed. All that mattered in that moment was Loki. 

With a heaving chest, you came down from your high, mind still foggy and eyes still unfocused. Your entire body went limp, boneless, and you found you were unable to stop your head from crashing back against the tree trunk while Loki straightened your skirts. Against the ringing in your ears you could hear the quiet concerned voices of the maids still sitting beyond the leaves. 

“That sounded like Her Highness?”

“Don’t be absurd, Signe! The Princess wouldn’t rut beneath the trees like some beast!”

“No? Then who else would Prince Loki have beneath there? I heard his name!” 

In the wake of such a shattering release - so shattering that parts of you were still tingling - you found that you didn’t even care. Let them know that Loki had claimed you in the gardens for all to hear, let the entire palace know without a doubt that you were his

.The warm ropes of his seidr quickly melted from your arms, allowing you to fall forward against the expanse of his chest.

“Good girl,” he murmured, curling a slim finger beneath your chin to tilt your head back. “Now, with me, and I’ll show you how good girls are rewarded.”

Pals of Saz taglist: @cheekyscamp @coldnique @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @the-lady-amphitrite @cake-writes @joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @give-me-a-moose @maple-seed @loopsisloops @kinky-faerie @lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @wintermischief @icytrickster17 @mischief-dream

[the-little-rapper]

Kidcore Pico stimboard for @inkeris ! ( art by NEONVORE on Newgrounds )

[rwuffles]

☕️ ❛ names , pronouns & titles based off of @crossstains！ ⚣ gift

 names — inkkyu , inkeri , אַבְשָׁלוֹם / absalom ¹ , אֲחִינֹעַם / achinoam ¹ , לֵב / lev ¹ , לִי / li ¹ , מֶלֶך / melech ¹ , 福 / phúc ² , 權 / quyền ² , 智 / trí ² , mausoleum , soleum , luciferian , inkyufer , crosolier , vilecros , sickrusi , crucivotion , cemesion

1; hebrew names   2; viet names

 pronouns — holy / holies , un / holy , unholy / unholies , cross / crosses , crucifix / crucifixes , sick / sicks , love / sick , lovesick / lovesicks , canni / cannibal , meat / meats , consume / consumes , dear / dears , vile / viles , dirty / dirties , sin / sins , poison / poisons , cemetery / cemeteries , backstab / backstabs , backstabber / backstabbers , backstab / backstabber , love / lovely

 titles — the one of / on the cross , [prn] of utter / unmatched devotion , the cannibalized one , [prn] who's body has been cannibalized , the no-good one , the backstabber , his* dearest , his* loving incubus / [nonhumanity] , the one who's dirtied / has dirtied the cross , the devotee

*my

[inkery-writers]

I added a very simple sprint timer to the writing page today. A lot of the times I find them helpful to get the words flowing.

Community sprints are still in the further-away future plans, but an individual timer is much more manageable :)

Image text: First sprint announcement!! We'll gather on the app at 8:30 pm BST on the 20th of August to write together for 30 minutes. Tag all your works with inkery-first-sprint and join us to celebrate our sprint time.

Get inkery on Google Play with invitation code 6f71, and join us:

...I'll get the alerts finished by then :)

[torillatavataan]

Pihla Koivuniemi wearing the Finnish national costume "Tuuteri"

[abstracteddistractions]

CHRISTO, "Package on a luggage rack," 1962,

© Christo and Jeanne-Claude Foundation,

Photography: Eeva-Inkeri,

Courtesy Christo and Jeanne-Claude Foundation and Gagosian.

[bunnishrooms]

Two biggie cheeses for any long names, preferably like cute or elegant sounding if that makes sense

Masc ;

Lysander , Maximilian , Theodore , Archibald , Artemis , Atticus , Augustine ,

Neu ;

Estrid , Inkeri , Zerlina , Sirvant , Saint , Harlow , Locket , Ramya , Lune , Mercy

Fem ;

Adelynn , Clementime , Sidney , Raziel , Melany , Lenna , Salomi , Luna (Alike to Lune),

--

refunds always available

[finnishfun]

Finnish book recommendations #6

Petra Rautiainen - Tuhkaan piirretty maa

(Country drawn in ash, English title: Land of snow and ashes)

Finnish Lapland, 1944: a young Finnish soldier is called to work as an interpreter at a Nazi prison camp. Surrounded by cruelty and death, he struggles to hold on to his humanity. When peace comes, the crimes are buried beneath the snow and ice. A few years later, journalist Inkeri is assigned to investigate the rapid development of remote Western Lapland. Her real motivation is more personal: she is following a lead on her husband, who disappeared during the war. But the villagers don’t want to dwell on the past, and Inkeri’s questions provoke hostility and suspicious silences. As she learns more about her mysterious tenant, Olavi, and tries to befriend a young Sámi girl, she begins to uncover traces of disturbing facts that were never supposed to come to light. From this starkly beautiful polar landscape emerges a story of silenced histories and ongoing oppression, of human brutality and survival.