#word pillow

[sakshikaribykriti]

Pillows with sayings are a perfect way to add a touch of inspiration. Block print fabric and embroidery - two of the most coveted hand works come together to create our stunning line of Word Pillows! Our gorgeous Happy pillow is beautifully hand crafted from soft, hand block print cotton voile fabric.

[blighted-lights]

@holographic-mars has me thinking about them,,, agh.

[originalferal]

How are your lips not shivering with everything you're not allowing them to speak? How are your eyes not filled with tears when they're not allowed to express? How is your heart still beating with all the burden that has been weighing on it?

[necromancelena]

Honestly one pretty common trope among horny fairy art that just manages to miss the mark on what the appeal of fairies is for me specifically is stuff that centers around the fairy sort of. Stretching around a cock that's as big as her. Not in an "I don't like goofy Looney tunes style unrealistic sex" way, just because it goes against what i find compelling about fairies anatomy wise in that I don't have a fetish for having sex with fairies i have a fetish for BEING a fairy. And a large part of that comes from the fragility and vulnerability, and being physically incapable of asserting my own will. So making it so that fairies are just magic enough to accommodate otherwise physically impossible feats kind of diminishes that fragility. I'd rather be in a position where one wrong move could kill me. So i really like fairy stuff where like. Yeah regular person size sex is off the table. Penetration is out. If you want to be intimate with a fairy you have to accomodate and think outside the box. This is its own unique situation so the fairy is, say, going in your palm and getting arms and legs pushed back by two of your fingers like it's tiny bondage while you tease erogenous stuff with another finger and if you clenched your fist right now she would die and that's really hot that you could do that but won't. Or maybe you will. Haha😵‍💫. I don't know if that makes sense. That might be a me-specific preference.

[yayll]

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~

Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.

"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."

You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.

"What is it?"

"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"

A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.

"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.

You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.

"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."

"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."

He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.

You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.

"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"

He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.

"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."

He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.

"Sit, please."

You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.

Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.

When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.

"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.

You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.

"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."

He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.

"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.

"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."

His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.

"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."

Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.

"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."

He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.

"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"

He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.

"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."

Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.

"Every single night after?"

"Every. Single. Night. After..."

"As if we were together?"

"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.

Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.

His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.

"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."

"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.

His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.

"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"

You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.

"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."

He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours

"... I know you would. You always do."

You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.

"Do you know something I don't?"

He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.

"I know everything, silly.~"

The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.

[unriding]

me n moze say good morning to the world !!! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

art by @rabbbitseason of course <3

[notbecauseofvictories]

I'm cautiously gearing myself up for a conversation with bff where I tell her that we need to recalibrate our relationship, and....I genuinely don't think I've ever had a serious, emotional conversation with someone I care about before.

I've never been a Conversation Haver; I tend to take the approach that people can't significantly change without meaningful reason, and since I am not and never have been someone's Reason, I cannot prompt change. Therefore, my choices are (a) live with what is; or (b) end/limit the relationship.

But....this is my best friend in the world. I do love her. I just can't keep on as we've been going, where it's less a friendship and more ten minute intervals where I talk about my life, after which the focus switches. I once sat in a bar for two hours waiting for her; afterwards, she asked if I wanted to stay in her hotel room like I didn't have to get up in another 5 hours and drive to work. She texted me during my recent trips, and when I said I was traveling she asked no further questions. Said nothing unless it was about what she was reading, what she was doing. I'm not even sure she realized I was traveling at all, just unavailable to her.

I can give a high-level summary of her PhD thesis. I'm not confident she knows where I work.

Truthfully, part of this is that we simply have different social styles....but still. Coming back from my family trip, I said I was tired and trying to get work straightened out, she should go ahead and plan something for the holiday! I was free! Only for me to text a week later....and promptly have her join me, for my previously standalone plans. Oh, and she asked me to bring my camera, because she wants headshots for her new job.

I still love her very much, but if this is the kind of relationship we're going to have? I need less of it.

[8-0mph]

Two Brain dakimakura.

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 9

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 9th snippet. The evening before they plan to march on Eregion and fight Sauron, Adar and Celebrimbor share one last dinner together. The elf ponders his time with the uruk, and the two husbands share some reassurances. (There is some mildly alluded to/hinted Adar/Sauron and Celebrimbor/Sauron in this, but it can be read as either platonic or romantic imo.)

Remember how I mentioned that I'd write one of their meals if my muse let me? Yeah, have one extra part. As a treat. We are nearing the finish line, slowly but surely, and I am both excited and a lil anxious about it. At least it looks like I might actually get this thing finished, which is still mind-boggling to me. Enjoy!

They'd do it, tomorrow. It still felt surreal to even think it, but tomorrow, the joined armies of Adar and Gil-Galad would march onto Eregion together, demand entry, attack Sauron - and hopefully, free all of middle earth of the looming threat he posed to it.

Everyone had been tense, even downright restless, during the day. Galadriel hadn't been able to sit down during the last round of planning, Elrond had been lost in thought more than not, and Gil-Galad had taken to pinching his brow and twirling Vilya around his finger at times when before, he'd have avoided such obvious tells about his state of mind.

Even Celebrimbor had found himself wringing his hands and fiddling with a writing quill to the point that he'd accidentally frayed it, earlier in the day.

The only one who seemed to become more even-tempered instead of agitated was Adar. The smith had first noticed it when the uruk poured all of them something to drink; whereas Celebrimbor's own hands shook from nerves as he reached to take his cup, Adar held it out steadily for him.

The uruk wandered around the table in an almost leisurely pace, calmly recited the number of his troops or the amount of war machinery he possessed, and pointed out potential weak points of the city walls as well as how their alliance might safely breach them in case the city was truly lost to the Deceiver - all with nary a hint of emotion.

It was eye-opening, in a sense, to see how Adar appeared to thrive in a time that spelt dread for most others. The smith needed to mull this over, for a time, until he realized that this was likely due to how the uruk had lived most of their lives. Always prepared for a battle, for an attack, for aggression.

They knew war, understood war, even if they wished to avoid it when it came to Eregion. Most likely, they'd been forced into it by Morgoth. And then, after the fallen valar had been banished and Sauron temporarily defeated, they'd had to live it once more, when the other races of middle earth turned their backs instead of reaching out to them.

These and similar thoughts haunted Celebrimbor's mind as he and Adar sat down together for dinner later that day - the final one they would have together in this camp, before facing their enemy tomorrow.

As the elf watched Adar eat, looking almost completely unperturbed, while Celebrimbor merely picked at his own food. Mixed in with his worries, there was a sense of melancholy that demanded closer attention.

He hadn't been in the uruk camp for long, all things considered. A few weeks, at most. And yet, he had found a sense of normalcy here, between negotiations and exploring the camp with Glûg, tinkering at Gurlak's forge and having conversations with Adar. Especially the latter part.

The elf's feelings towards his husband had gone through rapid changes in those few weeks. From initial fear and distrust, to brief resignation, to hope, ease, curiosity. Mutual respect, a sense of camaderie, then companionship. 

Friendship.

Affection.

Something the smith couldn't - didn't dare to - name yet.

When Celebrimbor looked up again, hoping to catch another glance of his husband's face while the other focused wholly on his meal, the smith felt warm when he found that the uruk was already watching him instead.

There was a moment as Adar chewed and swallowed whatever he had been eating, before stared pointedly at Celebrimbor's plate. "Is the food not to your liking today?" A pause. "Or is something else the matter?"

The elf exhaled, long and loud, and felt his shoulders sink in defeat. He put aside his fork. His meal had surely gone cold by now, and he didn't feel able to stomach any more anyways. "The food is as good as always. I just find myself...distracted, today."

Adar hummed. "That is to be expected. I think all of us are having mixed feelings about tomorrow," he replied, and held Celebrimbor's gaze. "But remember it is not just a simple fight. It is the chance to save all of middle earth for generations to come - possibly even for good."

The elf nodded, and tried to will his face into a more hopeful expression, but it wouldn't obey him. There were a great many things that troubled him; some that had done so for weeks, some that recently started to keep his mind occupied. Now, they threatened to overwhelm him. "You are right. I should try and focus on the positive side of things. But I find it hard not to- have some lingering apprehension."

He found his own eyes had wandered the tent as the spoke, unable to focus on the uruk, and the smith had to consciously pull them back toward his husband. Who did, in fact, still watch him. Adar's eyes were intense, and it felt as if he could see all of Celebrimbor's doubts in that moment.

"You aren't feeling ready to face him tomorrow, aren't you?" the uruk asked.

Celebrimbor tensed in response - he had not expected the other to see his deepest fears and lay them out, bared to both their gaze in the space between them.

But the look in Adar's eyes was one of understanding, and his tone soft as he spoke, and so the smith felt safe enough to be honest with himself as well as his husband.

"No, I do not," he admitted, and heard his voice crack before he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. He balled his hands, which he had placed in his lap, into fists to stop them from shaking. "I fear what I will find, walking back into that city. What he might have done to it. To my forge, to my subjects. My apprentices, my - friends."

"But most of all, I am terrified of having to be so close to him again," his voice was small. "Of what he might do, how he might try and twist my own mind against me, my ambitions and my insecurities. What if he gets a hold of me again and I cannot resist him this time?" The question was directed at no one, but it was one that had kept him on his feet, twitchy and eager to occupy his mind with other things.

It was a deep-seated fear that had gnawed away at him, so insidious he hadn't even dared to admit it to himself until then. He'd tired to push it away for all those last weeks, at least until it became apparent that their negotiations would actually lead somewhere, as their alliance finally took shape.

He was startled from his thoughts when Adar spoke up. Still, his voice was soft. If he hadn't been under Morgoth's command and suffered whatever had scarred body, Celebrimbor suspected the other's singing voice might have rivalled the beauty and candence of Maglor himself.

"Back then, in the First Age, when I freed my children. I did not feel ready to face him either," Adar revealed.

The elf needed a moment to fully comprehend the words, and as he did, his eyes widened.

The uruk was still looking directly at Celebrimbor, but when the elf remained silent - too stunned to speak - Adar continued. He propped up his elbow and let the fingers of his gauntleted hand rub against one another as his face tilted to the right of him, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Back then, it had already been centuries, even millenia, that I had served in his master's ranks alongside him. Mairon, as he was still called back then, had been friend and foe alike, at least I thought so. I followed him and his master's lead, both because I thought there was no other way, and because I could not make myself leave even when I hoped to create another path to walk instead."

"Each time I threatened to falter, he managed to coax, plead or seduce me back into perfect loyalty. Even when they twisted and scarred my children, even during all the wars they made me wage for them. He told me it would all lead to a future where my children and I could be free. And I believed him."

"It was only when he began to sacrifice them in droves for his 'unseen world' project, when he grew the idea of subjecting all living things not just to his yoke, but his very thoughts, that something changed."

There was a long pause. Celebrimbor did not even dare breathe too loudly, much less move. He could not take his eyes off of Adar, who looked both so regal and so frail in that very moment.

"I could not bear the idea of losing any more of my children. Or any more of me. But even then- it was the most terrifying thought I'd ever had, and the most terrifying thing I had attempted. I still see myself killing him on the back of my eyelids during bad nights. And each time, I still feel the same fear as I did back then."

Finally, Adar looked at Celebrimbor again. The elf felt unmoored, as if he were floating, from the sheer depth of compassion he saw in those eyes. "Believe me when I tell you - I fear tomorrow the same as you do."

Celebrimbor swallowed, and felt his eyes cloud over a little, before he blinked the moisture away and looked down, trying to hide his reaction.

He heard Adar get up from his chair and walk over towards him, at which point the smith lifted his head in surprise. Adar was still watching him, but his look was changing from one of compassion to a different expression, one that the elf couldn't quite place-

The uruk sat down on his haunches next to Celebrimbor's chair, and placed his bare hand onto the elf's wrist. Warmth seeped through his robe and he felt as if it were spreading through across his whole body. It brought Celebrimbor back to himself, made him feel grounded and- safe.

"I did it for my children, back then," the uruk explained. "All you have told me, all that I have seen you do, made it clear to me that you too care about your people in such a way as I do mine. And look how far it has brought us. Few believed this alliance could be achieved, yet we did. Neither of us has to face him alone now."

"I did not falter when it mattered most, back then. I will not falter now. And neither will you. I am sure of it."

Celebrimbor could only describe the way he felt as 'thunderstruck'. The nagging voice in the back of his mind, his doubts, all of it seemed to fall away at Adar's words, the way he said them so confidently, with an assuredness that made the elf unable to even question, much less contradict him.

If Adar believed that they would succeed, then they would. There was no other option. Perhaps, the elf mused, this was part of why Adar was such a good leader to the uruk.

When Celebrimbor didn't speak, Adar lightly squeezed his wrist. This, of all things, helped Celebrimbor regain his speech with a slight jolt. The warmth of their contact continued to spread through him. Yes, this- this was definitely affection he was feeling. Fondness.

"I do not just fear for my own people," the elf replied, voice still quiet. "I fear for yours as well. I have made...friends, among them. Glûg, and Gurlak. I know Glûg has a wife and child. Gurlak has apprentices like I had- have, in Eregion."

At that, a light quirk stole itself onto Adar's lips. The elf felt his gaze being drawn to the motion. Whenever Adar smiled, even just a little, it seemed to transform his whole face.

"And I am pleased that you have. As I said. I did not think it could be done, a friendship between elves and uruk. I am glad you helped prove me wrong - and everyone else, too."

Celebrimbor tried to say more, even as his words threatened to flee him again, but Adar was too quick for him to do so as the uruk got up again.

"Rest. I need to check on my lieutenants and help ready the troops for tomorrow. Perhaps you might be able to eat a bit more, yet," Adar said. As he walked behind the elf's chair, towards the entrance of the tent, his hand slid from Celebrimbor's wrist, up his arm and to his shoulder, which he squeezed softly with his hand.

Adar's words, his touch, the way it made Celebrimbor's heart seize and then feel as if it might burst in his chest, made the smith quickly reach up with his own hand and catch Adar's where it lay, grasping it and keeping it locked in place.

A shuddery breath, and he turned his head up at the other.

The uruk was looking at him still, but his face was more placid now. He was so quick, so skilled, at hiding himself away.

There were so many things the smith had said in his life - he'd given rousing speeches, encouragements to his apprentices. Affirmations for his friends, praise for Elrond, Galadriel and Gil-Galad for their accomplishments, tender words to those who had endured great losses.

And yet, now, his words had utterly deserted him.

He wanted to tell Adar so many things - 'I am glad we achieved a treaty for our people.' 'You are nothing like I expected.' 'I am glad you are here.' 'You and your words have calmed me like no other could.' 'I worry about you most of all.' 'I cannot explain what I am feeling, but the thought of losing you terrifies me, I think I might not be able to bear it.'

'Meeting you has been a coincidence, but I am glad it did happen, despite the circumstances.' 'I liken your eyes to gemstones in my thoughts and I want to craft you jewelry that fit their shade.' 'I wish I knew how to ask to repair your armor, so I might protect you like you did me.'

'I think I feel more for you than a husband in a political marriage typically does. Certainly more than I expected to feel.'

But, overwhelmed by his own revelations, the only thing he managed to say was "Thank you, Adar, for your reassurance. I am not sure if I might ever be ready to face him, but. You are right. And I am glad not to be alone this time," a pause. "You are not alone this time, either."

There was another small smile on Adar's lips, but it made Celebrimbor feel dejected instead of elated, for it seemed to hold no happiness, nor humor.

"You are very welcome, Celebrimbor. Now, as I said - eat. I will be joining you again once I am done," and with that, Adar stepped away as he pulled his hand out of Celebrimbor's grasp, and was gone from the tent before the elven smith could protest.

He sat there, his own hand still resting on his shoulder, still and quiet and all by himself. His heart still felt too big for his chest, but now, it also felt is if someone were tearing it apart.

Never in his life had Celebrimbor felt so utterly, completely bereft before. As if something intangible, yet very crucial and important, had just slipped through his fingers. And he felt terribly unsure if he would have the chance to ever reclaim it.

This, instead the thought of facing Sauron come tomorrow, scared him most of all.

[kaitowotd]

Kaito's Word of the Day: Kitty

My two favorite boys in one picture -w-

[revenantghost]

Hey

Remember when Vash's only reason to continue fighting and holding on to life was killing Knives

And now that reason is Wolfwood

:')

[sakshikaribykriti]

Pillows with sayings are a perfect way to add a touch of inspiration. Block print fabric and embroidery - two of the most coveted hand works come together to create our stunning line of Word Pillows! Our gorgeous 'Joy' pillow is beautifully hand crafted from soft, hand block print cotton voile fabric. It is embroidered by on a manual machine by our expert in-house embroiderer. It is finished with a flange that adds to its playful character. 

[stormyoceans]

yeah sea i think we all know that........

[originalferal]

i sometimes wonder what broke me more- what happened or what never did.

[coldtortelloni]

your honor they are chilling

[quotejunkiie]

- d.j