#as a gift !!!!! I'm SO EXCITED

[the-uncanny-dag]

From @bunkarz:

The post in question

AAAAAAAAAA thank u!!!!!! 🥰💙♥️💙♥️💙♥️✨🍭 This is gonna carry me thru the rest of March

[satans-knitwear]

Ur hot witch wife is thanking you for her valentines gifts 💋🥰✨

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[mayhemspreadingguy]

@magnusbae, not expecting I'd follow through, suggested to sketch Anakin but with cat fangs... Things got out of hand.

Also, look! Magnusbae gifted me with a most lovely fic inspired by my art (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) (fic under the cut, 3,800+ words).

That’s it. Anakin had resisted long enough. 

All through morning, noon and even dinner. He had done his Katas, had finished his chores, even went through his studies, all without so much as a single comment. He deserves to be commended personally by Master Yoda for being an exemplary Jedi. He deserves to be knighted right this moment seeing how he never even mentioned just how force karked awful his Master’s hair looked like for the past week. Sticking in all directions, it grows in uneven patches, the addition of a beard is somehow making his elegant Master look like a beggar from the streets and that, that is intolerable. 

Anakin growls quietly, muscles tense. He knows his Master most likely can feel him staring holes through him, and yet he simply continues reading his datapad, not asking nor looking, radiating calm in the force. Anakin wonders if he could tidy that mess with the power of thought alone. Would that be considered a frivolous use of the force? Even if done in the service of the republic? After all, his Master’s good looks are the cornerstone of the… 

Obi-Wan scratches at the back of his head, clearly bothered and Anakin can’t tolerate this anymore, cannot accept this anymore. His tongue is itching something fierce, his hands are sweating, he cannot sit still like there’s fire ants filling his pants and crawling up his spine. He cannot tolerate this. If not for himself, he must do this for his Master. If not for his Master, then for the order. If not for the order, then for the Galaxy. If not for the Galaxy, then for the Force itself. For he can swear by all that he holds dear that the Force itself is embarrassed by his Master being so unkempt, so ungroomed. 

Unacceptable. This is absolutely unacceptable. His Master has to always look neat and nice and put together, smelling fresh and looking proper. That’s the only right way for his Master to be. Anakin will not stand for it being any other way. He will not. He will make it right. 

His Master ignores the first lick. He often does that, pretends to not notice in the hopes of Anakin stopping after catching himself at his instincts. Oftentimes it works. Oftentimes it is an accident. But not this time. This time it’s very much on purpose and very much intended to continue until Anakin is satisfied with the results. All Anakin needs is for his Master to continue pretending to not notice long enough for him to fix this mess. 

Two more licks, lower neck up the scratchy beard and—

“Anakin—” his Master stops pretending so suddenly that Anakin’s tongue moves over his jawline and across the beard in a way that tickles funny. Anakin likes how it feels, rough and interesting, makes him curious about how it’ll feel like to lick across the jawline, where the beard is the thickest.

Knowing he does not have much time before his Master attempts to stop him altogether, Anakin leans in with renewed urgency, tongue ready, mouth starting to water— “Anakin, stop!” a strong hand pushes against his shoulder, moving him a distance away without being as rough as to push. 

“Mrrphh!” Anakin protests, pushing against the hand but not fighting it actively. His Master can be so bossy when he gets like this, so unreasonable. The only way to win is to use his words, otherwise his Master might just walk off and hide in his rooms instead. Or worse, go meditate in the halls, where everyone will see this shameful disaster.

“You need the grooming, Master!” Anakin starts with the foundation and heart of his objection. His Master always teaches that it’s important to be able to pinpoint the problem early on and address it quickly so as to not let it fester and become bigger than it must be. Granted his Master spoke of interpersonal disputes however it absolutely does apply here. His Master simply cannot deny this reasoning, ergo, will not be able to dispute it as untrue. “So just let me!” Anakin adds, before his Master could somehow find a way to object.

Can’t his Master see that Anakin is offering him a service? Out of the kindness of his heart, no less. Him enjoying the way his Master’s flavor sits on his tongue, the way it makes all the small hairs on his body stand on end, how it fills him with excitement— His Master’s scent, rich and spiced and safe— how he favors it above all else even when the exotic teas make him sneeze and sneeze— the way a single point of contact would narrow his senses into a single point of focus, clear his mind of all worries— the way his vision relaxes, the way his nostrils flare and he inhales and inhales and inhales— the way his heartbeat peaks and then slows, the way his mouth goes dry and he feels thirsty, hungry even— all that, all that has nothing to do with his altruistic motivations. He’s just looking out for his Master. Obviously, duh. 

“Master.” He can hear his own voice, can hear how it takes a whiny note his Master often teases him for. It’s hard to care when he has a goal bigger than his own ego. “Just let me.” He demands, he can hear it and he still doesn’t stop himself from reaching for his Master’s flowing robes, claws catching on the material and making him shudder. Maybe he does need trimming just like his Master insists each time they spar. Maybe Anakin will allow it, if his Master is good and allows him this. Maybe he’d even let his Master groom him too.

The bewilderment in the force clues Anakin on the fact that yes, maybe he did forget to shield, again. He huffs through his nose, wrinkling it. He really doesn’t know what the big deal with this is, doesn’t understand the obsession everyone and especially his Master, has with hiding every single urge and instinct and thought they have. It’s not like he thinks anything he wouldn’t also say out loud. Maybe if the Jedi used less of those shields, it would have been much easier to communicate with them, to bond with them, and maybe then he’d feel less like an outsider, like an odd bird out of its cage.

“Oh Anakin..” Obi-Wan sighs, the tension loosening from his hold against his shoulder, rather than scolding, there’s the hints of the sadness his Master expresses each time Anakin feels alienated in this place. It is not his fault no one understands him, it is not his fault he is different than everyone. 

“Master.” Anakin chirps back, rolling his eyes. His Master has the oddest of tendencies to get hung up on the most particular of topics. Anakin not having enough friends, per his Master’s opinion, is one such topic. Nevermind the fact that Anakin had never seen his Master ever share a true conversation with a single person. Other than himself. Of course. His Master does talk to him.

His Master will get fixated on him instead of thinking about himself and nag him to half death. ‘Anakin get more friends’ and ‘Anakin don’t spread the droid parts all across the quarters’ and ‘Anakin I’m a grown man I can groom myself.’ And while some of those things might be true, obviously, the last one is not. “You look like a mess.” Anakin says it to his face, because he and his Master are real friends.

“Thank you Padawan.” His Master answer, no longer sounding sad, instead his voice is dripping with sarcasm. Anakin doesn’t like it, but he supposes it’s better than sadness. “I do not recall asking for your no doubt impeccable sense of— Ahnakin—!” his ranting stops mid warming up when Anakin uses the opening to dart forward and lick him again, from the lowest exposed spot of his neck, up the smooth skin, his rough tongue making a satisfying ‘shh’ sound as it catches at the hair of the beard and smooths it up with his lick. The flavor is… is… 

Obi-Wan had used some sort of balm… some sort of synthetic musk that makes Anakin’s brain swim funny and eyes to close and mouth to water even more. He has to swallow down the saliva lest he drool like a hungry Tooka. It’s hard not to, when his Master is so, so, so karkin yummy. He slams his shields up with a clumsy thud in the force, but maybe just a moment too late to cover up that last thought.

“Anakin!” his Master sounds properly scandalized, voice raising to a tone that always makes Anakin’s ears ring uncomfortably and the following lecturing tone is no better. “Cease this nonsense immediately, you must not—" 

Anakin licks again. The side of his neck and up to the point where skin meets ear. “Master.” He says there, voice dropping into a purr that morphs into a warning growl he didn’t even think of making, there’s no aggression, only the frustrated warning to not stop him in the middle of something so damn important. Grooming, is important. More than Katas or studies or meditations. Maybe even more than sparring. And Anakin loves sparring. 

All Anakin wants is for his Master to sit quietly and let him take care of him. The way he ought to, the way he was meant to do. It’s his job, after all, is it not? He is Obi-Wan’s Padawan, it’s only natural he would tend to his Master, that he would care for him, that he would help him. That just makes sense. That rings true in the force and that’s all Anakin needs to know.

"I will.” He declares, it is no longer a request nor a plea, it is a declaration of intentions. A declaration of intent. He presses his nose at the soft skin under his Master’s ear and inhales, deeply, the scent making him Master-stupid so he says what’s on his mind with no filters, with no thought. “Unless you hate me.” His voice drops softer, he can’t breath, having inhaled too much of the strongest drug known to him. “Then I won’t” he trembles, he waits, if his Master rejects him, if he does hate him for his care, he will, he

“Anakin, this is hardly related, I do not think that—”

The force between them sparks and Obi-Wan’s mouth snaps closed with an audible click of the jaw. There’s a tension and a heating of an eruption that is halted with the calming breeze of spring air, Obi-Wan’s Force Signature covering his own, soothing, embracing, calming. “Very well, Padawan.” Obi-Wan speaks with a voice of a man who’s been worn in battle, sighing out in exhaustion.b “Since you cannot resist your nature, I’ll allow it.“ He pauses, sounding not a little doubtful as he adds the obligatory “Just this once, Anakin.” A final form of giving in, one Anakin is familiar with. 

There’s an ‘You should be old enough to know better’ goes unsaid and so Anakin ignores it. It wouldn’t have mattered even if Obi-Wan did say it. He had before, many times, and it never mattered. Anakin somehow doubts it’ll matter even when he grows taller than Obi-Wan. And he will, he just knows it. He will grow tall and strong, and he will always take care of his Master, and Obi-Wan would not be able to argue with that. Because it’ll all make sense. It always does. Everything about them does. 

If only his Master understood him better, he’d know that one doesn’t just grow out of wishing to groom those he cares and…loves. This is something that is forever and always. That is something that only grows and deepens, something to be shared and relished. Something he will always give to his Master freely, even if his Master maybe doesn’t…. Really share it in the same way as him. Which is fine. He had decided a long time ago. It is fine. 

It is enough that he gets to care for his Master. So he smiles instead and purrs out a sweet “Thank you, Master.” In that respectful manner he knows his Master enjoys hearing. He giggles when he feels his Master’s breath hitching, giggles more when nuzzling against the neck tickles his nose. “This is so horrible.” He complains, wanting his Master to know how strongly he objects to this change, and yet he cannot stop giggling. “Master!” he doesn’t even try to hide his joy from his voice, nevermind from the Force.

His Force Signature is a slow pulse of contentment, securely tucked beneath Obi-Wan’s still. When he licks small licks under Obi-Wan’s ear, he can feel his Master’s breath catching, can feel the way he stops breathing entirely and the soft gasp when Anakin licks at his ear directly, once, twice, a few more times just to test how committed his Master is to this session. Very, it seems. His Master doesn’t object even when Anakin grows bold and nibbles at his earlobe, tugging ever so gently. His Master is always so sensitive around this area, always so jumpy if Anakin stays too long at this spot. It always makes Anakin want to lick there until Obi-Wan loses his composure entirely.

He never does. 

At least not too much.

He does want to groom Obi-Wan after all, not only bully him into squirming because he is so damn ticklish there. That is not to say that he is above wanting to see his pristine Master squirming a little. So he licks there again, and when his tongue dips only a little into the ear, his Master finally jumps and moves away, breathing harshly and looking redder than his hair.

“Anakin I do believe that my hair is not located in that particular spot and—” his hands close on Anakin’s shoulders when he makes it to the ear again, wanting to nibble just one more time, just one last time… “Anakin.” His Master’s firm voice snaps him back into focus, tells him gently through the force to not overdo it. Fine, fine. He will not overdo it. This time.

"Just relax, Mastah.” Anakin pouts, the word slurring in the way his Master always corrects. Always, but not now. Anakin reaches for his Master’s wide shoulders and waits a moment until his Master’s grip loosens enough for him to actually move. It’s easy enough to shift to his Master’s lap. One knee over and sitting down in one smooth motion that has a practiced finesse to it. You either get to Obi-Wan’s lap swiftly, or you don’t at all. There is no room for hesitation for his Master will do enough hesitating for the both of them. So he sits down and nudges closer, right away. Inhaling, inhaling deeper.

Oh how he wants their scent to become one. They’re already nearly inseparable, living as closely as they do, using the same soaps, eating the same foods. Anakin wants more. Anakin wishes that they could smell and feel like one. United. Clearly bonded. Even more than they are through the force. He wants it so much that his fangs itch, itch, itch to bite and bite and bite. But no. No he is here to groom, to care. Not to bite, not to… mark. His cheeks are warm with it, knowing that he has, and is, constantly considering this. Wondering about this, curious about this. About marking his Master in a way that will be known, in a way that will be understood. He thinks about it, always. Luckily his Master has no clue. Luckily, Obi-Wan does not know. Or he wouldn’t let him sit here so carelessly, surely, he wouldn’t. 

“It’s part of it, duh.” Anakin says without truly knowing what he speaks of. The grooming, the licking, the biting, the sitting on the lap? He doesn’t know. He only knows of the happy, loud purr that fills his lungs when Obi-Wan doesn’t stop him from leaning back in, back to his neck, nuzzling, smelling, licking up that rough, funny tasting beard and to his hair, spiky and significantly softer than the beard. He giggles again, and purrs. It’s an odd combination of sounds he does try to stop but doesn’t manage. He is too preoccupied for dignity, or decorum, or class. He’s too karking pleased. 

When he licks at his Master’s neck again, the man tilts his head up and away, exposing his throat for him. Good. Good. Good, great, awesome.

His Master couldn’t have displayed his trust more plainly than this. No words could have conveyed the same level of commitment, of confidence and belief. Exposing one’s throat, Anakin thinks, is a universal sign. Even if his Master is less inclined to instincts as Anakin is, it still counts, it still matters a whole lot that he does it for him. His Master does it because he knows it matters to him and that— that matters more than all else.

His own purring is deafening, drumming in his eardrums and filling his chest with sound, he used to try to hide this in the past when he realized that most Padawans did not purr at every one of their Master’s compliments or gestures of kindness. He no longer bothers. He pulls and licks and purrs some more. He takes his time, licking small, measured licks, taking care to put that awful messy beard into something much neater, dignified.

“Maste-rrr.” He draws the ‘R’, nuzzling again under the ear and grinning when his Master shudders but doesn’t pull away, he always gives him a chance to be good. So he will be good. He does not nibble, instead he wraps his lips carefully around the bit of skin where no hair touches. Oh he wants to suck, to mark, to taste. Oh he does, so much. But he doesn’t. He will be good, because his Master believes him to be good, and proper, and nice. So he will be. 

His cheeks are fire hot when he thinks about what else he would have liked to be doing instead of the promised grooming. That is not something he should be thinking of, nor something his Master would ever permit, but…

Thinking is not illegal and he is not good at not thinking. 

So he imagines it. Imagines how his Master’s hands would feel on his hips, imagines his Master yanking him down to sit properly on his lap, Imagines his Master wanting him to lick elsewhere and—

“Ahnakin—” Obi-Wan protests, so strongly it rings in the force with his words. He feels and looks scandalized, even more so than before. He looks like he is considering all his choices and decisions. He looks like he’s about to call quits. He looks like he’d push Anakin away, he— places his hands on Anakin’s hips and pulls him down, to sit properly. 

The whine that escapes Anakin’s lips is nothing short of mortifying. It’s a needy, surprised thing, he feels like a proper youngling, confused and shy. He seeks the refuge of his Master’s neck and hides there, nuzzling while whining again, complaining, scandalized too by his Master’s audacity to follow his dreams up like this. He can’t mean it, he simply can’t! It is a mere coincidence, his Master would never follow his fantasies, he didn’t even hear it, his shields are up and proper, he’s sure of it, he’s sure of it, he’s… 

“Sorry…” Anakin murmurs out, because if he’s honest, he is not sure if his shields are worth anything with how excited he had gotten. Maybe his Master did hear, maybe his Master did feel something. Maybe he did push a little too hard. He doesn’t want to push too hard, he knows that sometimes his Master gets nervous because of his thoughts. Not angry, never angry.

He doesn’t want to make his Master nervous, he can feel the tell-tales of it in the force. Despite his Master’s secure hold on him, despite his Master’s unmoving frame. He can feel the building up hesitation. He does not want his Master to feel that way with him. 

“I’ll stop.” He promises his Master, assures him. He’ll try to, anyway. For his Master he’d try to go against his nature, even if his nature does tell him to think and do all sorts of things. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night when he can’t sleep and he thinks of his Master and every word they had ever passed, he does wonder about this. Is this truly his nature, his instincts that drive him to act as he does, or is it simply how he is with his Master? He suspects he knows the answer to that, but it’s easier for the both of them to call it instincts and be over with it, so he never disputes it. “Really.”

There’s a charged silence and then, blessedly, his Master says the two words Anakin loves more than anything else in the world, the two words for which he, not jokingly, thinks he might be willing to die for. 

“Good boy.”

The Coruscanti accent is thick and rolling, he sounds almost distracted, he sounds… 

Anakin shuts his eyes and bites his tongue, fangs digging into the soft flesh. He must not think of exactly how he imagines his Master sounding. He should not think about how his hands feel warm and human on his hips. He should not think about the lingering flavor on his tongue nor how his lungs are full of Obi-Wan, of his Master. He should not, is not allowed to. Promised not to. Instead he wraps his arms around his Master’s neck and hugs him, pulling the larger man to himself, having his head against his chest for a few long moments in which he is sure Obi-Wan hears just how fast his heart goes. He surely can feel it through the bond, it’s going crazy, ba-dum, ba-dum. 

He can feel a distant echo of his own heartbeat, almost imperceptible to his senses, and yet there. An answer. Thoomp-thoomp.

When he leans back, he moves his hands to cup his Master’s cheeks and makes him tilt his head up, to face him. “You look good now,” His fangs stretch at his lips as he grins wide enough to hurt. “Master!” he adds, cheekily.

His Master’s eyes are a bright blue, the deepest, calmest pond. He rolls them shortly, then looks directly into Anakin’s own eyes and smiles at him, sarcasm dripping with fondness as he says “Thank you. Ah-nah-kin.” With the most accented tone Anakin had ever heard. There’s so much black in his Master’s eyes, a beautiful, wondrous thing that makes him itch all over and want to see more of that soft darkness no one else gets to see. 

No one else, but him. 

[fictionadventurer]

People really do everything they can to avoid having children and to bar children from public places and then wonder why the world seems dull and pointless.

People try to hold onto their own youth, but that just means they stagnate in immaturity. The real way to regain that child-like wonder is to see the world through the eyes of an actual child, and you do that by helping new children to experience the world.

[iamamythologicalcreature]

It's a Happy Pride Month for Snowbaz! (Happy Pride to everyone celebrating!)

*This post contains snowbaz art, closeups of Baz's hair and feet because why not, a t-shirt acquisition opportunity, and a bonus sketch below the cut!

(*am I ridiculously proud of Baz's feet? Yes. I am. Thank you. >.>)

AND... Would you like a T-shirt?

No, really! Thanks to SSCoNE happening this month, @technetiumai is making t-shirts! And you can get one with this illustration on it, whether you're meeting us in Omaha or not. (Please place orders by next Sunday, June 9th, though!)

Click here to order a t-shirt, available in several sizes and styles!

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!

Check below the cut for a sketchy look at Simon and Baz before they went over the rainbow!

[shrews-art]

Good afternoon xiaoven nation, today I offer you this very self indulgent drawing 🌿🌿

[naffeclipse]

Merry Christmas @o-cinnamonstickz! This is dedicated to the most wonderful person in the world, my loveliest friend, and a dear soul. Cinna, I hope you know how much I adore you. You are such a kind and gentle soul. You flutter around my life like butterflies of every color and you deserve every sip of nectar and taste of honey. Thank you for being my friend. Won't you indulge with me once again?

A Garden Of Garlic

Part 1: An Encounter at Midnight

Vampire!Sun x Y/N (SFW)

You nurse the wild garlic growing in your garden, tend to the dead (and ensure they stay resting in peace,) and keep a watchful eye out for vampires in your cozy little town. There's much you don't know, but you do know this: automatons can't become vampires. But then you meet Sun. A count, an automaton, and, to your surefire conviction, a vampire.

Word Count: 10,700~ Warnings: Please see tags/warnings.

A/N: This is the first part of a three-part series focused on Vampire!Sun and his romance with a human female reader. The short journey will contain many gratifying moments, mild lore, and much of Sun being an equal menace and sweetheart. Expect to see the next part posted tomorrow, and the last posted after that.

[souvenir116]

vanilla carnations 🤍

Alternate Universe- College, Love at first sight, Idiots in love, High Tension, Fluff, First Kiss, Max both loves kittens and Charles, so Charles does a favor for him

For lovely @sunshine-f1 🤍

Max wrapped his arms stronger around him, completely holding, suffocating literally. “Will you also remember if I say something stupid now?”

Charles let out a soft noise, snuggling to Max’s chest and nuzzling like a kitten, still sleepy. “I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah?” Max dipped his fingers to his hair once again. “What if I say I might be in love with you?”

Dimples settled on Charles’ face right away in an inhuman speed as his smile grew. “I love… you. Too. Three… Four?”

🤍

"I’m not- it’s not- We're not dating," Charles tried to calm down his tachycardic pulse, green orbs shining under the weight of a huge lie. "We're just-" "Don't pull a 'we're just friends', Charlot." Pierre's jaw clenched harder as he raised a brow in suspicion. "Friends don’t get 'accidentally' married, friends don't get thrown out of the library because they couldn't stop kissing each other, friends don't sleep in each other's arms every night-" "Friends don't look at friends that way.”

Read on AO3

[lahjakaaryleet]

Hi everyone! It's happening, the Secret Santäärijä Käärijä Anon Gift Exchange is starting!

Here are some Important informations :

Fill this google form to sign in

The sign ins end November 30 at midnight

The 1st December I assign everyone their lahjakääryleet, so make sure you're not too late to register!

The 15 December I will check in with everyone and ask to see your WIP, to see how it's going, if you need any help to finish your gift, if you think you can make it for the deadline, etc.

Once your gift is ready, you have until December 22 at midnight to send it!! (please send your gift as soon as you can once it's done, it will be easier for me not to have everything come up at once on the 22nd lmao)

Feel free to send anons to the person you've been assigned, as long as you don't blow your secret santa cover!🎅🪄

Once your gift is ready, send it to my email address, (I will give it to you in DM), and i'll handle the gift distribution, that's it!✉️

I will use the tags #secret lahjakääryleet 2023 and #lahjakääryleet23 so I don't flood the main käärijä tag, feel free to use the tags when you publish your gifts on here and AO3 after the holidays!!

for AO3 users, i made an AO3 collection named Lahjakääryleet - Käärijä Anon Gift Exchange 2023 you can add your fics there!

Once everyone has been assigned a lahjakääryleet, I will DM all of you with the info about the person you've been assigned. Please make sure your DMs are open. And if you’re open to receiving asks from your secret santa make sure anon asks are open. 💌

(this game is strictly online for obvious logistic and budget reasons, but if by the end of the event you want to send a physical item to your assigned person, please contact them directly )

And the 25, everyone receives their gift in their mailbox🎁

If you have any question, you can send me a DM or an ask or even comment it here!

🎁Have fun, yes yes!🎁

kudos to @katinkulta for coming up with lahjakääryleet <3

[kentopedia]

𝒾 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝒶𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ‪‪❤︎‬

i had the pleasure of getting my very first levi commission by @freyzrc and it turned out so beautiful !!! <3 i’m so in love with it, thank you (again) a million times over!!

[peachcott]

[ store ] 🌱 january update

✦ new: ↳ webbedsite! i got a new website!!! please check it out :D :D :D ↳ custom linking charms 🥬🐟🍞 ↳ gift cards added (!!!)

✦ 2023 stock leftovers available :3 as its a new site, please let me know if you encounter any issues so i can fix them! i hope you find something you like!!💖 🌱SHOP: peachcott.com 🌱

you can use the code "HAPPY" for 15% off for the rest of january!! ♪(´▽｀)

[hangmanbradshaw]

Happy ho-ho-holidays everybody!! As a celebration, I'm going to be posting fic related treats (new chapters, new fics, one shots, story add ons, snippets, etc) each day, a chaotic advent calendar of sorts full of my (and your so voted) favorite things. I hope y'all have as much fun with this as I do. Some of it I have planned, some I'm taking the inspo as it comes so ;) you never know what I'll run with

Day 1: i find myself running home to your sweet nothings (IWTBY Part 3, chap 1) tumblr post

Day 2: sometimes all it takes is a thursday (javy pov one shot: After the mission, Javy watches Jake and Bradley become Jake and Bradley again, and then become more, OR, Jake and Bradley become friends again, and sometimes love is actually easy.)

Day 3: that little farm where every wish comes true chap 5 (hallmark sugar daddy au) tumblr post

Day 4: i talk a big game that i'm scared of losin' (one shot: Jake's a professor ready to jump back into the dating pool, Bradley's a little rough around the edges, and Nat swears they're perfect for each other. She might be right. OR Jake dumps his loser ex and moves to California to be near Nat and Javy. Nat knows a guy, and sometimes opposites attract.)

Day 5: and i feel like my castle's crumbling down (Bradley POV add on to rival princes au. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.” All it took was nine words for Bradley's heart to rebuild and break again.)

Day 6: santa, can't you hear me chap 2 (Jake Seresin didn't want to live the lyrics of Last Christmas, but in the aftermath of a breakup, he finds himself meeting someone different, someone maybe even special, in the form of a reporter sent to do a profile on him. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't what he expected, but maybe that's a good thing. The rest, well, he can honestly say he never saw it coming.)

Day 7: take me home where we met so many years before (one shot: On the day of Jake and Bradley's wedding, three best friends look back on how they got there. OR the Seresin-Bradshaw guide to laying under the stars through all stages of life) (aka the FGCC's fault lmao love you guys)

Day 8: cuz you know i love the players and you love the game (one shot: Jake's the star quarterback, Bradley's the star baseball captain. They both like playing games, turns out they want the same prize. OR. Bradley dresses as a cheerleader for the team and Jake hates him (except that he totally doesn't))

Day 9: the set it up/football/baseball/fall in love with the city idea that almost was (before I went with IWTBY which I'd been dreaming up for so long)

Day 10: santa, can't you hear me chap 3 finale

[satans-knitwear]

Blue Valentine 💙😘

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[blissfulalchemist]

Joshua, The Phoenix and Alma, The Healer

“I wonder / what it would have felt like to / have a choice, to choose love, / to hold anything with both hands. / It’s taken me this long / to say I want I want I want,”

-Caitlin Bailey, from Solve for Desire: Poems; “To G, after the party”

Sooooo if you haven't noticed ffxvi has kinda taken over the brain and I was so so so so very lucky to snag a spot with the wonderfully talented @ziorre to bring my girl Alma and Joshua to life! And I mean just look at them! Look at these two I am absolutely in love! Ziorre you are an absolute gem to work with and I am floored every time with every single piece you've done! Go and commission them whenever you get the chance because just look!

My heart breaks for these two and their whole story and I am just! !! Tragedy and the burden of duty bestowed from birth my beloved.....

[thoughtsofthegirlwiththecurl]

I've got writer's block and reader's block, but goddamn if I didn't learn how to knit a sock.

Pattern is Rye Light by Tin Can Knits

Yarn is Rainfall on Oak from Spinning Tales Fiber

[backslashdelta]

Every Inch of You

When Blaine is feeling insecure, Kurt takes some time to remind him how Kurt feels about him – every inch of him. Or, what really happened after their talk in Tested.

If @justgleekout asked you to write her some Klaine smut, could you say no?

Read it on AO3