#ily jack

[ellulemmu]

[rocket-angel]

Jack Skellington is like if Ryan Ross were a skeleton and hyperfixated on Christmas instead of the Beatles

[laidback-thrills]

Blatant Jack Kennedy Thirst Art

CW/ SUGGESTIVE

alternative version is on my 18+ twitter....

[stinastar]

Hahahahahahahaha. Beautiful.

[ptersparkers]

you are so right!! Jessica Brooks deserves the world and more, and i'm so happy that she got a bestie in reader :') they love each other sm!!!

thinking that jess will show up because she’s picking you up and aaron opens the door, and he’s like??????? did i forget that you’re picking jack up

you show up in a pretty outfit that matches jessica’s and explain that you guys are going out to dinner and plan on getting a little tipsy before coming home (he begs both of you not to drive drunk and both of you are like aaron. we’re drinking, sobering up, then driving home)

you both talk about life, relationships, jack, and EVERYTHING. like text tell her about mildly embarrassing moments with aaron or about how jack scored a few goals if she wants able to come

tbh you guys are bffs and when jack grows up he lowkey jokes with his dad and he’s like “so is y/n your wife or not”

[cowboy-kait]

you say the later seasons aren’t good but have you considered jack kline

[suninks-moved]

soup, how does one writeblr

hi jack! here’s some advice for u to get started

curating your dash

curating your dash is important! if you’re at a loss for what to post or how to go about introducing wips and characters, looking at what other people are doing/current writeblr trends can help a lot. when you create a writeblr intro you a) find new people to follow who share your genre interests and b) gain a small starting following that will interact with your first few posts and get your work seen. 

interact!

treat people as you would like to be treated! people who interact with other blogs more usually get more interaction in turn. you will make friends who you can bounce ideas off of, be introduced to more content, and have more people see your work. also it’s just really fun to have friends! joining discord servers or other groups is an easy way to make friends and get your work reblogged

know your tags

tagging in the writeblr is very important to get your work seen. only the first five tags will come up in tracked tags, so for important posts like intros, make sure to use the big tags like writeblr or wip intro. any tags after the first five will work for when you’re searching for something. ex. your second tag is ‘writeblr’. if i am following that tag, it will come up on my dash. your seventh tag is ‘ya fantasy’ and when i scroll through the ‘ya fantasy’ tag your post will come up. i also heard somewhere that using a lot of tags makes your post show up less, idk how true that is but usually keep your tags on original posts to under twenty.

it’s also useful to have a good personal tagging system so that people can find your posts easily. for example, having a specific tag for a certain wip or character will help people find your work easier. better yet, create a masterpost for each wip (although this is kind of tedious work so it’s optional). 

key points - tl;dr

here are the important things to remember:

follow a lot of blogs

make a writeblr intro

track popular writeblr tags

use big tags for the first five tags of original content

have an organized tagging system

be involved with the community

make friends!

feel free to come back w more questions! hope this helped

[hermitmoss]

letting them cling to you + ronan & gansey

Gansey pocketed the Monmouth keys, letting them fall through his hands, on their lanyard, into the dark pocket of his shorts.  He checked his watch; it was almost nine in the evening.  He didn’t resent Helen, not exactly, but he would rather have not gone out for dinner, and instead gotten home earlier.  (This was home.  Monmouth was home.  Not the house with his parents.  Not with Helen.)

“Hullo the house,” he called, because the only reason Ronan would be asleep was if he were blackout drunk, which he had told Gansey he probably wouldn’t do tonight.  After a few moments, he heard a slamming door upstairs, then feet pelted down the stairs, creaking.  He only just had time to turn on the lights before a lanky, shaven-headed, heavily tattooed beanpole collided into his chest and suckered its tentacles onto him.

“Good evening,” said Gansey formally, looking down at his best-friend-brother-everything.  Ronan bared his teeth into a snarl, trying to crawl into Gansey’s suit coat.  “No talking?” asked Gansey.  Ronan nodded.  “Okay,” said Gansey, modulating his tone so that only a low voice came out of him.  Ronan head-butted him harder, putting pressure on his stomach.  His hands were wound around hsis torso, and he was pushing Gansey downwards.  He gave the ground, lowering himself to the floor carefully so that Ronan wouldn’t hit the deck hard.

They sat there for a few minutes, until Gansey’s leg had started to cramp up.  “Ronan,” he said, quietly.

“Mmph,” said Ronan, still holding onto him tightly.  Dinner with Helen had been far too much garlic.

“I want to go upstairs and brush my teeth.  Can we do that?”

Ronan made a noise of discontent, but they went up anyway.  It was slowly, because Gansey didn’t want to drag Ronan up the stairs in case it hurt Ronan, but Ronan wanted to be dragged up the stairs because walking up the stairs would mean he let go of Gansey a bit.  They made it, though, and then promptly fell over on the landing.  It was utterly dark, up there.  Ronan hadn’t had any lights on.

“Hhmph,” said Ronan, and snarled again.Gansey extricated a hand to stroke Ronan’s head with.  Ronan leaned into it.  “You’re my brother,” Gansey told him.  “You’re my family.  That’s never going to change.  It’s always you.”  Ronan bared his teeth, and his nostrils flared.  “It is not Helen,” said Gansey.  “Nor my mother, nor my father, nor any of my aunts or my uncles or my cousins.  You are my life.  Here.  Monmouth.  Glendower.  Us, on our quest, to find our miracle.”

“Miracle,” repeated Ronan, his voice slurring.  He didn’t smell like alchohol.  There wasn’t blood on his face or on his arms.  Gansey was inordinately relieved; he felt his heartrate drop.  “’m miracle.”

“Yes,” said Gansey, lifting them both up by the armpits.  “Yes, Ronan, you most certainly are.”

ao3.