#challenge 13

[snowflakechallenge]

Fandom Snowflake Challenge #13

Introduction Post* Meet the Mods Post * Challenge #1 * Challenge #2 * Challenge #3 * Challenge #4 * Challenge #5 *Challenge #6 * Challenge #7 * Challenge #8 * Challenge #9 * Challenge 10 * Challenge 11 * Challenge 12 *

Remember that there is no official deadline, so feel free to join in at any time, or go back and do challenges you've missed.

One of my favourite things about fandom is screaming, "Did you see that amazing thing?" to someone, and having them scream back at you (hopefully positively) that they have now! Sometimes, it's about the canon itself, but a lot of the time it's about fanworks our community has made. In that spirit, today is the day to sing the praises of our fellow fans' hard work and creativity (or shitposting instead of sleeping, one of those).

Challenge #13 Make a rec list! Post your answer to today’s challenge in your own space and leave a comment in this post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.

You can include three or three hundred links to any kind of fanwork that strikes your fancy: art, crafts, fic, filk, gifsets, icons, layouts, manifestos, meta, multimedia mixes, picspams, playlists, podfic, vids & whatever else strikes you as having been pretty darn cool. Make the list themed if you like, or the last three things you made heart eyes over. Include fandoms big or small or only you and that one other person.

I totally encourage people to include a note of why they liked the thing, but linking to them with accompanying emoji and exclamation marks also works. (But please double check that if you're linking to LJ or DW, it's not to a locked post.)

Tip: When you post your link here, it helps to indicate what fandoms you're including in your list, so that other folk can find your recs more easily.

Check out the comments for all the awesome participants of the challenge and visit their journals/challenge responses to comment on their posts and cheer them on. (And because we were gifted with paid time for the month of January, you can search comments! So don’t forget to list the fandom(s) in your comment so people can search for it.)

And just as a reminder: this is a low pressure, fun challenge. If you aren't comfortable doing a particular challenge, then don't. We aren't keeping track of who does what.

[leighbaye]

[wheatormeat]

I started this around September 2023 anticipating to finish it for dunmeshi's finale! But things got hectic! Here is the finished product to celebrate anime airing day; 2024 is truly the year of dunmeshi!

[makenna-made-this]

BAWKtober Day 12 - Quilt

I've got your love to keep me warm

[snvxiii]

My drawing for @creatingblackcharacters' CBC Black HIstory Month Challenge. Thank you for the opportunity to participate!

Since the flood of chaos 500 years ago, Sazh Katzroy fixes an ancient camera, developing a centuries-long passion for photography. He travels all over Nova Chrysalia, capturing day-to-day scenes to showcase the flow of life in a world where time is broken.

To my Black viewers: you deserve to be centered and considered. You deserve lovingly depicted Black characters and representation, with the goal of seeing your joy. I hope you always ask for more, more, and better.

With that statement in mind, I drew my version of Sazh leading the life I wrote he'd have in my canon of Lightning Returns. Close-ups of the three lined arts + head canons are under the cut.

Tagging @fangsded if you want to join in!

Sazh is often bombarded with too much food by the people he helps and their neighbors. He, Dajh, and Celeste still work out in the shell of an airship, but has a small place in the nearby village. It acts as a gallery and storage space for all of their art.

Sazh's favorite area to take photos of is the Wildlands. He especially likes to track the day-night cycle of the local flora, and makes projects of visiting the same spots to log any changes. It's interesting how one can capture change in a world that's stopped changing.

Sazh visits his old friends regularly, as much as he's able. He catches up with Fang every time he goes to the Dead Dunes, taking a much deserved drink. He tries to catch Noel and Snow when he finds them – as hard as that is nowadays – and short meetings with Vanille when able. He gives Lumina letters to sneak to Vanille. (Strangely, none of the photos he takes of Lumina have her appear in them.)

[a-s-levynn]

"A sacred guardian" A Series of Small Offerings - IV/1 - day33

[bookstoresystem]

!!Notes Challenge Thing!!

We need help gaining motivation to finish our Simply Plural, so we're doing this thing now 🤷‍♂️

For every 5 notes, we:

Assign a headmate folders

For every 10 notes, we:

Give a headmate faceclaims

For every 15 notes, we:

Fill out a headmate's description

For every 20 notes, we:

Fill out a headmate's fields

For every 25 notes, we:

Make a headmate their playlist

For every 30 notes, we:

Add a relationship folder to SP

[bookwyrminspiration]

i feel like putting myself on blast on the internet!!! go wild!! tell me what you got!!

[m4nsch]

i asked friends what characters i should to draw

[hauntedhouseofhargrove]

hauntedhouseofhargrove | Fluffy July 2025 - Day 17

Can I? ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Steve Harrington

Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Genre(s): Fluff

Word Count: 518

Warnings: just some fluffy fluff with Stevie, sexual innuendos

Prompt(s) @fluffyjuly: Baking - "Can I kiss you?" + "Open your mouth"

Read my other works here! | Join my taglist here!

A/N: Gotta bake with Steve now

Hawkins’ annual chocolate chip cookie baking contest was coming up. You and Steve were currently in your kitchen, conjuring a mess in the midst of trying to find the perfect recipe.

He swore up and down that he knew exactly what he was doing, but the mess he was making said otherwise. 

“I told you the brown butter recipe was the best so far!” he argued.

“Sure, Steve, but you let it sit in the oven for way too long!”

He was only confident in that batch because he made it with minimal assistance.

“Well, I think it’s perfect,” he goaded. 

“The judges won’t,” you chortled, smacking his arm with a ‘hey!’ when he sprinkled flour into your hair.

He giggled to himself, fingers coming up to dust your head.

“All better,” he mused.

You were precisely working on your next batch, proud of your work when they were out of the oven. You finished them off with generous flecks of sea salt.

“Watch this,” you beamed, teeth catching your bottom lip ever so slightly as you split a cookie in half, strings of chocolate on display. 

You licked the remnants of the gooeyness off your finger before giving Steve the first bite. He stayed quiet, his chews progressively getting slower.

“Well?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened. It felt as though you were now being shoved into the oven, your skin heating up.

“W-what?”

“These are the best damn chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had.”

He rambled on and on about the extraordinary flavor palette, how you absolutely finessed that recipe. 

His earlier question was still replaying in your mind.

“I mean, look at that. That is surely going to get us a win,” he pointed at the gooey center of the cookie before realizing you still had yet to try your own creation. “Open your mouth. Like this is seriously the best thing I’ve ever had.”

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

You needed your mind to stop reeling from every single word he spoke. His rough thumb grazed your lip, eliciting a hum. You played it off, face instantly lighting up at the softness of the cookie, the chocolate melting on your tongue.

“Woah.”

“Uh-huh,” he smiled brightly.

His eyes lingered on your lips for a bit.

“Got some chocolate on your lip there.” his thumb came up to your lip, his other fingers curving around the base of your jaw. 

He gently brushed your lip, careful not to hurt you. His hand remained still, his eyes still on your lips.

“Did you get it?”

You were almost scared to speak. Scared that your whole being would betray you and tell him to take you right there, right now. He sucked in a breath, his eyes finding yours. 

“I wasn’t joking earlier. Can I kiss you?”

He was leaning in within seconds, barely allowing you to fully nod. His lips latched to yours, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You felt his tongue prod at your bottom lip, giggling as you started to taste chocolate.

“I take that as you got it off.”

[landofartandcraft]

102: HOMESTUCK DAY OMG

[ghostgirl-22]

Idk why I did this. But since I wrote it yall have to see it (if you choose to read it of course!). Blame my beloved agegap!anon I fear <3

CW: 18+, NSFW, AGE GAP, teacher/student, power dynamics, semi public sex, jealousy, mild possessiveness, super mild D/s

—-

Original.

Pt 2.

Art can’t really help himself. If he could stop he definitely would… Maybe. He wasn’t a virgin before he had sex with his tennis coach, Patrick Zweig. He’d just never been with a boy before. Now that he’s done it, and done it, and. done. it. All over Patrick’s house. He feels a little more confident in his sexuality. And it’s weird. Because now he’s suddenly getting even more attention.

He’s not a slut. Not really. He doesn’t always give it up. But he likes to tease. And he likes the attention.

A lot.

Probably what he likes even more than the attention is the way it seems to break away at Patrick's ever present cool and calm demeanor.

Art was barely flirting, honestly. Kneeling on Chase Roberts feet so he could do sit-ups. Chase has these really pretty brown eyes that sparkle in the sunlight, and Art wasn’t really straddling him, he was just crawling between his legs to get a closer look. He didn’t expect Chase to sit up and kiss him. Or the other boys to tease and jeer when Chase did it. Chase is smirking at him and Art shoves him back down on his back, licking his lips. “You’re such a freak.”

Chase laughs. ”You can’t blame me for wanting a little taste pretty boy.” Art sits up properly, when he hears Patrick blow his whistle. Conditioned for it by now. Patrick’s looking at him but it’s only for a second before he’s yelling at everyone.

“Enough messing around,” he shouts, “since we’re all in a silly mood without the silly skills to accompany it, we’re all doing fucking drills. He says. “Come on…get up. Line up behind the baseline, middle court. Roberts in front.”

Everyone gets up. Patrick bends over leaning in to whisper in his assistant coach, Meg’s ear. His little purple shorts, forming to his ass, riding up so Art can see more of his muscular thighs. Thighs Art has sat on, that he’s felt hot and warm beneath him while taking the full length of Patrick’s cock. He never felt more grown up. He bites his tongue trying not to get hard.

Coach Meg gets up and pulls on her baseball cap. “Okay everyone we’re doing baseline, mid court, center shots.” She shouts. “For every ball you miss or hit out of bounds you run a lap and get back in line.”

There’s some irritated mumbling as Art gets in line but no one gets too loud for fear it will get worse.

“Donaldson, come with me,” Patrick says. Grabbing his clip board and walking towards the locker rooms. Art looks around and some of his teammates are smirking. Roberts makes a kissy face at him.

“I hope you’re all paying attention,” Coach Meg says, whacking Tyson Wahler with her clipboard when he mimics a sloppy make out. Art grins and hurries to catch up with Patrick.

Art is breathless when they get into the facilities building. “Am I in trouble, coach? Art asks playfully, but Patrick doesn’t really give him anything. Just keeps up his breakneck walking pace.

He approaches his office and pulls open the door, holding it for Art. Art walks in and looks around. He’s probably only been in here once, with a teammate to ask about switching doubles partners because they were both left handed.

Art turns back around to face him. “So what’s the big—“

Patrick covers him mouth and walks him backwards up against the closed office door. “Mm Donaldson, you talk too much.” He’s all in Art’s face. Art’s heart rate speeds up quickly, blood furiously rushing to his cock. “Did you fuck him?”

Art raises his eyebrows.

“You can nod, yes or no. Did you and Roberts fuck?”

Art shakes his head.

“Did you fuck any other boys since the weekend?”

Art shakes his head again. He’s actually falling apart for how fucking hot this feels. Patrick going insane over a little kiss. He licks at Patrick’s palm just to get a taste of him.

Patrick presses his forehead against the wall next to him. “Mm…you have to fucking stop.” He whines and pulls his hand off of Art’s mouth.

“Did you fuck your girlfriend since the weekend?” Art says, grinning as he tries to catch his breath and settle down.

He can’t settle down.

Patrick pushes up against him and he can feel. Fuck. He can feel it. “You’re such a fucking brat,” Patrick whispers in his ear.

“And you’re a pervert, all over me and I’m barely out of high school.” Art breathes as Patrick’s rubbing up against him. “Won’t even let me fuck a boy my own age.”

“No one your age knows how to do it properly,” Patrick whispers.

Art starts sucking kisses into his throat.

“You… fuck… you know you make me crazy. Sitting on my court, showing off that body, crawling on boys laps and letting them… oh fuck it…“ Patrick grips Art by the waist, taking his mouth in a bruising kisses, all while walking him up against the desk and bending him over. Art is pushing back on him while he’s rummaging in his desk drawer. He pulls out a condom and then he’s pumping lotion out to use as lubricant. Art feels his mouth watering. As hot as he was earlier he’s going insane now.

“I knew you’d be this fucking tight still,” Patrick groans as he’s filling Art, big hand covering his mouth to keep him quiet. Or muffled at least. Art licking, talking, moaning against his palm. Fucking in Patrick’s office while the rest of the team is running around the court. Patrick, so frantic and desperate to claim him. Ramming his prostate over and over and over till Art is spilling all over the desk, muscles trembling, head dizzy. God. He can’t believe it took him so long to start. It feels so good getting full on Patrick’s cock. Art wants it every fucking day.

“Holy shit,” Patrick sighs as he’s tying off the condom and easing his shorts back up.

Art’s all dizzy and in love with him. And now he smells a lot like cherry almond lotion.

Patrick settles on his desk chair, manspreading as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. “I shouldn’t be doing this. Fuck. I’m gonna get caught and get fucking fired.”

“Have you ever done it with a player before?” Art asks, lightly.

“Are you kidding? I’ve done fucked up shit before. I’ve done stupid shit before, but never anything this stupid and fucked up.”

Art sits on the desk, he’s all sore and it feels so good he wiggles just to feel the ache and he puts his foot between Patrick’s thighs.

“If you give me your number, I’ll do whatever you want. I won’t fuck anyone else,” Art says.

Patrick takes a deep breath and pops a cigarette in his mouth before playing with Art’s shoe laces. He then takes the cigarette out of his mouth like he’s just realized he’s still inside. “No you’re a kid. You’re gonna be calling me and texting me at insane hours asking for things that I’m gonna fucking do because I have no self control. And I’m gonna end up seeing them blown up on a board in front of the school ethics committee.”

”I won’t say anything bad. I swear.” Art says. “If I’m horny I’ll just send you an eggplant emoji. Like 39 times. Isn’t that how old you are? Or is it one for good luck?”

Patrick snorts. “Get up and go back to practice, you little shit. And tell Megan we were in here talking about that recruiter that was here last week.”

Art shrugs and pushes himself off of the desk. “Can you come with me?”

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes… I promise.”

Art sighs and lingers to the point where Patrick just smiles. “Fine, come on. You get so fucking clingy after.”

“No I don't," Art says, defensive and a little warm because it’s true… Art does want to be around him. Though he doesn’t think clingy is the word.

Patrick straightens his office and Arts hair and checks himself in the mirror before they leave. He lights up as soon as they get outside. Art falls into lock step with him. “Try to relax— cause as soon as we get up there, you’re not sitting around me, it’s gonna be laps. And no more fucking kissing Roberts or anyone else.”

“I’ll try not to,” Art says grinning, knowing that if this is his punishment he might just kiss everyone on the team.

(Btw…Other anon with the brilliant ask in this au I can’t resist — I’m totally coming to that! A thousand percent! Trust!)

[episodes-without-incident]

7/17/2025:

5 episodes since Drawfee last referenced Cats (2019)

13 episodes since Drawfee last referenced Everytime We Touch (2005)

[7cfc00]

And then they adopt an Asian baby from the Titanic !...?

[starlinggirll]

an art fic based on the best rom com ever made "13 going on 30"?

13 GOING ON 30 — D. ART ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

AUTHORS NOTE — im really sorry if this doesn't meet your expectations because i took away all the magic plot and turned it into a more realistic version? i dont know but its a big more angsty with a happy ending. alsoo, this is a part one since i doubt anyone is going to read all of it at once so im cutting it into parts!

you and art were best friends.

like since birth best friends.

spend nights at his house, sleepover, family functions! and it helped that you were both literally neighbors.

he loved you, you loved him. but he loved you way too much, like always following after you, always looming behind you. specially after entering middle school, boys in their teens are reall assholes.

he never let anyone come too close to you without him being there.

but things got worse in middle school.

you started pulling away from him, growing up. but growing up meant fitting in, and fitting in meant leaving him behind. specially with all those new 'friends' of yours.

"cheese!" art smiles, taking a picture of you and him in the middle of the hallway. "art stopp!" you giggle, pulling away. "come onn, its your birthday!" you roll your eyes, gently shoving his chest.

the moment is short lived with the group of girls you are suddenly hanging out with ( six chicks), as in doing their homework so they hang with you. "ill meet you up front." he smiles softly. "do whatever you want. its not like she needs a play-by-play." a girl who meets all the boxes of the asshole, fake, bitch mean girl says. and you dont stand up for him.

"so about your party...i dont think we can make it.." is the last thing he hears from the girl before walking away.

at the end of school you're both walking him side-by-side. "i cant believe you invited those clones." he chastises you, gently ruffling your hair. "they're my friends." you say innocently, and he cant tell if you're playing a part or if you genuinely believe that.

"six chicks are not your friends, okay?" art says firmly.

"well almost. and someday im going to be a six chick." you huff, earning another logical explanation as to why you wont be one of them from art.

"besides you're like way cooler than they are." he says softly once you both reach your houses. "they're totally unoriginal."

"i dont want to be original, art. i want to be cool." he cringes at your response. because all he wants its to be kids, to be goofy and not care about others. he wants to go back to it just being the two of you against the world.

"happy birthday!" he says as he walks down the basement, a big box in his hands. "what is it?" you squeal, going up to him and the box. "well you know how you said you always wanted a barbie dream house? well i decided to make you your own house."

your jaw falls open as you look at all of the rooms. everything is perfect, and so you. because he knows you, probably more than you know yourself. "art its so..." you whimper, tears forming as you throw yourself on him. cheek pressing against his as you sniffle.

"its so perfect thank you so much." he smiles, his hand running up and down your back shyly. "o-ofcourse. anything for you." but again, the moment is crushed when the door bell rings. "shoot they're here." you perk up, wiping your cheeks before pulling away from him.

"oh um," he sighs, "im just going to put this away okay? so there's room to dance!" you take the house and put in the closet before shuffling upstairs. "put some music on!"

and he he does put some music on, then leaves through the back door. he isnt about to get bullied, and as much as he wants to do something about you getting taken advantage of, he knows you wont listen. or even notice he's gone.

while he's gone, you get locked in a closet. your sweet innocent mind letting the girls tell you that chris grandy, a guy that looks way too old to for the hots for a thirteen year old, wants to do something with you.

he comes back about 10 minutes later, feeling bad for just ditching. he comes back to everyone walking upstairs and you nowhere to be seen. "what's happening?" he asks the girl that seems to be the ring leader of the group. "oh um...she's waiting for you in the closet!"

he raises his eyebrow before walking further into the basement, opening the closet to find you with your knees up to your chest with a blindfold. he smiles, kneeling down infront of you, leaning in softly.

"i didnt think you were going to come..." you whisper, your lips curling up into a shy smile. "oh chris..." you whisper breathlessly. "chris?" he flinches away. "its not chris it's art."

"art?!" you gasp, pushing him awat after ripping the blindfold off. "what are you—" you peek over his shoulder to see nobody there. "what did you do?!"

"me?!" he frowns. "i just came back because i-" "get out!" you cut him off, shoving him out. "leave me alone! i hate you! i hate me! i hate everyone!"

you put the blindfold back, rocking yourself. "let me in! please!" art pleads, pressing his forehead against the door, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes. "i can explain i-"

you cover your ears, accidentally hitting your head against the closet, making the house fall on your head.

breaking it in half.

you knock out for a bit, but by the time you wake up and open the door he's gone.

middle school and highschool go like a breeze. you both ignore eachother, years of friendship flushed down the drain. you turned into one of the six chicks, turned into what he hated the most; a mean girl. but you were happy, relatively.

got a hot boyfriend, prom queen, popularity.

except you were missing him. he was gone, the only guy that understood your nerdy references, the guy that played with your hair casually, the guy that did weird impressions with you was gone.

by the time you're in your senior year you're super popular. and he's a loser. school clique wise, he's in the stoner, loser skateboarding clique. meaning your friends either make fun of people like him or completely ignore them.

and off to adulthood you both go. off to the streets of new york.

you work in the most successful magazine, and he's a photographer. he knows about you, you are plastered in billboards with your perfect smile, perfect teeth showing.

while he's stuck in a shitty apartment you're living your best life. thriving.

it would only be an act of faith that makes you both stumble into eachother. in the big city of new york ...

what are the odds?

[boughclan-clangen]

each in their own time.

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