#rustle
LightNews LightNews
missjessicahyde.bsky.social
Some of my most satiating sessions have been simple ones. A turn of phrase, a slowly uttered word, the click of a heel, the rustle of leather creasing are all I need to bring you to your knees.

Tell me, what little moments are the ones that turn your knees to jelly?

#Femdom
November 12, 2025 at 6:17 PM
contembot.bsky.social
The rain is speaking quietly,
you can sleep now.
Near my bed, the rustle of newspaper wings.
There are no other angels.
I’ll wake up early and bribe the coming day
to be kind to us.
November 12, 2025 at 5:27 PM
dissolvedpet.bsky.social
Somehow I don't have a decent photo of the other arm: Acceptance & the owl from the third book cover. Must rustle one up. I saw the rad owl you did. You'd dig it.
November 12, 2025 at 4:27 PM
bonobobananas.bsky.social
Lol. I have no idea what was going on in there but it was bloody loud. Only the occasional rustle to prove someone hadn’t
just shoved a speaker in there 😆
November 12, 2025 at 4:20 PM
mzkatlynd.bsky.social
The way tree leaves rustle with the wind>>>> and also is a double entendre for 🍃🍃🍃🍃
November 12, 2025 at 1:34 PM
poet.mstdn.forfun.su.ap.brid.gy
Daily fairy tale

The king's words were like a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of forgotten memories, and she felt an inexplicable sense of longing wash over her as she replied, "I seek the wisdom of the land, Your Majesty. A dream has haunted me since […]

[Original post on mstdn.forfun.su]
Prompt: Calm, breeze, leaves, forgotten memories, longing, sense, childhood, dream, calamity, world, reply, king's words, rustle, forestall, prophecy, foretelling. , HD, sharp focus, stunningly beautiful, Googie Art Style, dynamic, dramatic, 1950's futurism, bold boomerang angles, Googie art style Negative prompt: verybadimagenegative, bad_prompt_version2-neg, easynegative, FastNegativeV2, ugly, deformed, noisy, blurry, low contrast, extra eyes, bad eyes, ugly eyes, imperfect eyes, deformed pupils, deformed iris, cross-eyed, poorly drawn face, bad face, fused face, ugly face, worst face, unrealistic skin texture, out of frame, poorly drawn hands, cloned face, double face, blurry, bad quality Text model: llama3 Image model: RealCartoonXL
November 12, 2025 at 9:19 AM
pantmonger.bsky.social
I still remain non-triggered by being name called a fictional faction who's actions apparently really rustle the jimmies of some loyalist fans deep in their very serious imperium LARPing.
November 12, 2025 at 2:59 AM
solass.bsky.social
Idk why but I'm absolutely starving so time to rustle up some scran
November 12, 2025 at 2:25 AM
flipturns.bsky.social
A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed, are as crisp as autumn air.
--Eric Sloane 🍂
November 12, 2025 at 1:01 AM
locuyinglet.bsky.social
A bit eerie to hear a rustle at my room door and suddenly clock
November 12, 2025 at 1:00 AM
corymatthew13.bsky.social
Mindful of less
As if riches
A subtraction

Hand reaches
To grasp
And lets go

Nothing falls
To the floor
Voluminously

Ideas dance
Past window
Thoughtless

Drapes rustle
In admiration
As they go

#poetry
November 12, 2025 at 12:20 AM
nonuberis.bsky.social
Are you interested in:

Familiar faces?

Bunbarian bone battle?

Malephoria?

And burger date?

These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon.

www.patreon.com/user?u=273837

#nonuberstories #furry #nsfw
“Oh Non!” Alice calls out with a playful lilt as she pushes open the door in her closet. “I hope you’re ready for a surprise visit!” But on the other side of the aperture she discovers another cramped closet, scarcely large enough for her to fit into. There’s yet another door beyond that, and when she opens this one she sees a hallway. An extremely familiar hallway. If she looks back over her shoulder, she can see the same hallway reflected behind her. The passage from her home leads back into her home. “Non?” she calls again as she steps forward, brusquely forcing through the closet and into the hallway. It’s exactly the way she remembers—the same squeaky floorboard right outside the bathroom, the same scuff marks on the walls from where she’s brushed against them a little too often. With her behemoth breasts jutting ahead of her, she’s at least prepared to ram into anything that appears in her path. There’s no response, but she can hear something sizzling in the kitchen and smell the smoky aroma of cooking meat. Rounding the corner, she sees a Garchomp standing by the stove. A Garchomp who has to turn to the side so she can reach past her bosom. A Garchomp with chestnut hair and violet tips on her horns and fins. A Garchomp who is herself. “What?” Alice blurts out. The other Alice looks back to her, freezing in place, a look of terror in her eyes. “This definitely isn’t the way I came before,” Aster mutters under her breath. Moist grass crumples beneath her feet, but she can hardly even see the ground—and not just because of the jutting shelves formed by her body’s curvature. The mist which fills the forest clings low to the ground and wreathes around her in a clammy embrace. The trees which surround her are tall, looming shadows, and she can scarcely see the brightening sky through the canopy overhead. It had seemed like a good idea to set out before dawn, but now with the sun still below the horizon she can barely tell where she’s going. It's a good thing that her long, sensitive ears make it easy for her to be conscious of her surroundings, even the slightest rustle in the distance. She can tell that there’s nothing nearby, though she’s still kept her war hammer at the ready since she entered the mist. She holds it resting over her shoulder and bosom, the cool metal weight offering a sense of familiarity and comfort. The trees gradually thin ahead on the path, and the ground turns soft and squelchy. The smell of earth is strong here, the stench of decay. It’s starting to grow brighter, and the sun’s warmth begins to chase away the mist, but it’s still murky enough that the rabbit can’t see anything until she’s close. Something emerges from the mist ahead: a crude stone cairn. She looks about, and she can see a few more of these squat markers in the vicinity. She must have stumbled upon am old gravesite. Old, yet not entirely abandoned, as the soil beneath her feet shakes. When Euphoria opens their eyes and looks down, they see the blankets covering their form. There should be a body under there, their body, and yet they don’t feel particularly conscious of its sensations. There’s no need to be concerned with things that they can’t see. Without physical constraints, this can be whatever they want. “Hmm…what am I feeling like?” they ask themselves. Then they pull the blanket off, sit up on the edge of the bed, and inspect themselves anew. They find that they can see their stomach for once: a flat surface beneath the layer of fur, and when they press their hand upon it they feel the defined abdominal muscles. That hand is attached to a slender yet toned arm, which itself meets with the shoulders and the gentle swells of pectorals. And they have a cock and balls out already, resting in their lap. They curiously prod the dormant genitalia before slipping their fingers beneath it, between their thick thighs, but they find no slit in that dark crevice. “Masculine today,” they murmur, unconsciously stroking the goatee which dangles from their chin, unfazed by the slightly deeper pitch of their voice, and they chuckle. They stand and look for a mirror (since few things stay in the same place for long in the cottage) so they can observe their reflection. Many would call the unicorn they see in the glass a stud, a powerful and virile figure who could effortlessly woo whomever they choose. Their form is slender but distinctly toned with musculature, with lusciously curvaceous thighs and a plump rear. They feel this body is made for flaunting, so they hold their arms up behind their head and slowly sway their hips from side to side, phallus swinging between their legs. They laugh to themselves as they turn, their curiosity sated—the focus upon that being the only reason they were able to stave off the urge to gaze longingly into their reflection for hours on end. “I feel that we’re grossly overdressed for this establishment,” Chrysalis mutters while looking around the dining room. She thinks that she stands out even more than usual, dressed in a shimmery dark pine gown that hugs her figure, a formal gala dress in stark contrast with the casual garb which the patrons are wearing. Although, on the other hand, her curvaceous form is far less extraordinary in the presence of so many exaggeratedly large creatures delivering meals, dressed in black and red, cruising precariously along the lanes between tables. It is an obscene display of wobbling, gelatinous flesh, but Chrysalis finds that she must regard them with begrudging sympathy as she carefully navigates her path while managing her sprawling double shelf of a bosom. “There is no such thing as making too good of an impression, Chrysalis,” Luna replies, and she winks as she glances back at her. The changeling grimaces as she observes a patron taking a bite out of an enormous hamburger which squirts out a gobbet of sauce over their shirt. “As long as you don’t mind hoofing the bill for the drycleaning after this too.” Luna chuckles in that infuriatingly nebulous manner that alicorns are far too fond of, before she announces, “Ah, here’s our table.” The empty booth has an awful lot of space for two people. For Chrysalis, though, as she sidles in on one side and settles into place, there’s enough room for her bosom to rest comfortably ahead of her without bumping into the edge of the table. Not entirely conducive, since she still has to reach past the black globes to get the utensils and napkin, but it allows her to be comfortable and breathe a sigh of relief. She’s thankful, at least, that the ambient clamor of the restaurant is muted somewhat here.
November 11, 2025 at 11:35 PM
genderqueerwolf.bsky.social
The leaves taste as strong as the flowers, you remind yourself
As you bruise them between your fingers, looking for the flood of serotonin before winter settles in.
Some of the leaves are still vibrant.
Some rustle with the promised north wind.
All of them nip at the tip of your tongue. A promise
November 11, 2025 at 8:43 PM
beatingblog.bsky.social
So who's at this shindig at Dublin Castle tonight then? Anyone really famous like? Would they invite celebrities to that or just politicians? Miggeldy's one was so long ago I've forgotten. Surely we can rustle up a few A listers? #aras25 #speirgorm
November 11, 2025 at 7:48 PM
justinmatic5000.bsky.social
How many box fans can you rustle up
November 11, 2025 at 6:10 PM
gregdoucette.bsky.social
But with Christmas coming up soon after, Turquoise started wondering about her other students' families

So she sent messages to a bunch of her friends asking to help (dubbed "Turq Alerts")

I happened to get one of them even though – or because of the fact – I was just an aspiring politician 😂
Message from Turquoise to T. Greg on Facebook Messenger on 14 December 2015 at 10:14pm EST, asking for help with gathering food for her students Text reads - Turquoise: "I'm trying to send each of my 22 kids home with a bag of non perishables to help their families with them being out for Christmas break. If you know anyone wanting to donate, let me know! I'll go pick it up!" Greg: "What all are you looking to collect? I can rustle up some stuff among my office building" More DMs between Turq and Greg. Text reads - Turquoise: "Cereal, snack bars, canned veggies and meats, peanut butter, cookies, puddings, Jellos, chips, rice, Mac and cheese, noodles and trail mix" Greg: "Good deal, and what's the deadline?" Turquoise: "Thursday [frown emoji] I'm having parents come to the class party on Friday to pick it up" Greg: "Hmm. K lemme see what I can make happen [smile emoji]"
November 11, 2025 at 5:49 PM
mieow.net
Forward Roll — 10 Points!

#Girly_Boyish #WindChimeDays
A girly big sister and her boyish little sister, sharing a quiet, tender moment. Girly_Boyish. Illustrated by Rustle. Girlyな姉「風」とBoyishな妹「鈴」の姉妹イラスト。 日常のやさしい時間を描いたラフスケッチ。風鈴日和。作者：らする（Rustle）。
November 11, 2025 at 4:36 PM
henrisaarela.bsky.social
Many good ones! I've been recently into The Following Morning but Fluid Rustle is a classic too
November 11, 2025 at 1:29 PM
funkentechno.bsky.social
it's Fluid Rustle, maybe Colors of Chloe second favorite. Later that Evening is another big one for me. Pendulum is great too
November 11, 2025 at 1:27 PM
d3d3d.bsky.social
That's not quite the same thing, but I take your point. Personally I can't rustle up much interest in the franchise anymore - it's tough to look at our position in the world now and imagine a Bond that could have a great impact on the world stage frankly.
November 11, 2025 at 1:02 PM
purplehel.bsky.social
I fucking hate being cold. It is currently 51 inside the house. I put a mylar thermal sheet over the one window, behind the curtain, I am hoping that makes a difference. The wind is making the mylar rustle. :(
November 11, 2025 at 12:10 PM
fakehannanwalks.bsky.social
Strolling through the dappled lanes of Marden, I inhaled the sweet musk of hay and listened to the gentle rustle of hedgerows, where even the bumblebees seem to gossip romantically.
An AI generated image depicting a view of the english countryside poorly cpatured on an iPhone
November 11, 2025 at 11:06 AM
mtvnews05.bsky.social
Bandits kidnap five nursing mothers, rustle livestock in fresh Kano attack

📢Your Bluesky posts deserve more reach 📈Auto-share them to all social networks. (visit my Bluesky profile first post or profile bio for website link)
November 11, 2025 at 9:30 AM
snowyowl-gaming.bsky.social
Leaves rustle softly.
The carvings on the stone…
seem to point toward a hidden secret. 🔍
#AlwaysWithYou #AdventurePuzzle #IndieGame #UnrealEngine5
November 11, 2025 at 8:48 AM
jonsparksauthor.bsky.social
#WordWeavers 11/11: Describe the mood of your story using colours or sounds.
Well, if there’s only one mood in the whole thing, it’s not working.
It’s the rustle of autumn leaves underfoot, the hiss of approaching rain over the…
#books #writing #WriteSky #writingcommunity
November 11, 2025 at 6:57 AM