#i tried really hard on this piece i'm really proud of all the symbolism i put into

[eiseryn]

Pieces of Her Heart

Lei has three people who are the most important to her: Her three friends, Ceres, Elise, and Vail. She doesn't believe in unconditional love, not knowing that she unconditionally loves her friends. So unknowingly, she has given them all pieces of her heart. So throughout the campaign, it has been difficult for her as the events of the campaign has made her doubt and distrust her friends. But I believe that at the end, if she lives, she'll continue to view them as her friends. After all, her friends are why she's risking her life to go on a suicide mission which hopefully will succeed and thus save the city (I hope?)

There's a lot of symbolism in this piece! Details I'm particularly proud of include the greyscale stripes as the wallpaper/background, which resemble prison bars. Are her feelings toward her friends Furthermore, the circular "spotlight" that shines in the image and focusses on Lei might also resemble what you see through a rifle/gun scope (cuz uh she's almost been killed a few times). The intricate parts of the mirror portraits are from a tool on CSP! But ofc did the shading myself. Vail and Ceres are smiling softly because they haven't done "betrayals" as Elise did. So Elise's portrait, which is facing away from Lei (because SPOILER: she sedated Lei in the neck when Lei turned away from her LOL) and cracked (showing the fractured trust). This is why Elise's expression in her portrait is also rather sad and downcast.

Vail and Ceres are smiling in their portraits because Lei has decided to trust her after the events that caused her to mistrust them are partially resolved (It's complicated). In these portraits, since they are supposed to represent the pieces of Lei's heart, she imagines them in their best state and she loves to see her friends smiling. She wants to protect their smiles, Ceres', especially, because Ceres is a light in this dark, dark world, that Lei desperately wants to make sure doesn't get extinguished. As for Vail? His talk about dreams makes Lei feel like she might also be allowed to dream and hope for better things for herself, even in such a harsh and unforgiving world.

She loves her friends so much 🥺🥺🥺 I love her so much.

And if we want to talk about Lei herself, her expression is a quite empty (because of all the things she's had to experience) and the light is again, gone from her eyes... She's a very quiet crier (because she's been scolded for making too much noise from her mother) so she's used to having tears stream down her face, silently... If only someone could comfort her 🥺🥺🥺

BONUS: The image without all the dramatic lighting. I had to render it to this point, after all.

[bengiyo]

Cherry Magic TH Ep 12 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last week, Achi went to a different city to help set up a new office. There, he had to work on his social skills to bond with the new staff, and succeeded through the power of his good nature and soccer. Karan and Achi stayed in touch the entire time they were separated, and Karan visited twice. Achi hesitated about coming out, but was rewarded when the new team was completely supportive and only asked about his partner so they knew who to contact. Meanwhile, Jinta talked Min into not giving up on an audition, and Min said he loved Jinta. We left on Achi losing his powers in a very satisfying bed scene and afterglow.

Achi really lucked out with Karan.

I'm so proud of Achi for managing to complete this project and earn the confidence of this team.

Ah yes, a finale. It's time to meet the parents.

Boss, don't remind me of the no dating rule.

Pai is such a supportive friend.

NOT THE BALLOONS SOUNDING LIKE GUNSHOTS

Damn, Mom, why you gotta dunk on your own son??

It's fine, she's definitely cool with it. She already put them to work and doled out advice.

I love Karan so much. This man recorded Achi expressing love in the Northern dialect, and Achi agreed so he wouldn't have to say it often.

It couldn't all be cherries on tablecloths. Looks like Karan is maintaining continuity with his Japanese counterpart's family.

Achi's mom hugging Karan is something that can be so personal.

I will never get over Jinta wearing sunglasses over his glasses.

Yes, let's model good fan behavior with the artist. They only jumped because they thought Jinta was trying to kidnap Min and then calmed down. They're even fans of Jinta's book!

Absolutely love that Karan is not withholding his feelings from Achi about how his mom might be homophobic.

AN 8 HOUR DRIVE? Are we going to Dallas???

Give that man his reward, Achi!

Welp, I knew it was too simple with Karan's mom. She very smoothly shoved them into a closet.

I'm glad it's the sister having this conversation with the mom.

She said her piece and counted to three!!!

Karan being a little brother makes so much sense every time.

Look at Tay Tawan acting. I know the mom and dad turning around so quickly is a bit unrealistic, but I like the aspirational nature of it. It could be this easy if we tried hard enough for each other.

Of course he proposed. I love this man.

You know he's had that ring ready for a while!

COME THROUGH, ACHI!! MUTUAL GAY PROPOSAL!!!

Wow, that was everything I hoped for and more out of the family stuff.

Whoa, did Jinta reveal he popped that cherry?

Oh, it's also the symbol for Min's group.

Aww, Rock has a fan!!

Pai is definitely shipping Rock and the fan.

Save the date!!

Well well well, Cherry Magic Thailand. Good job being explicit about marriage equality.

Okay, I like the reference to the pens.

I'm okay with Rock and Pai getting to date.

These two are very good at the aesthetics of an onscreen kiss.

Final Verdict: 9.5, This is Now My Default Version. I did not expect to come out on the other end of this liking the Thai version more than the Japanese live action, but here we are. Minus episode 8 (which I will pretend doesn't exist), this was perfect execution of the core premise and strong regard for the character dynamics. This show earned every moment, and managed to deliver a satisfying finale for the whole cast. It's been a long week of finales, and I like how good so many were. TayNew getting back together was not something I expected, and I'm so thrilled that they delivered such a strong outing. What a time to be a Cherry Magic fan. I'm excited to keep reporting on the anime and then talk about all three shows.

[octuscle]

I've always been a well put together scrawny guy. Never really got along with other guys who were more masculine. I'm eager to see what's on the other end of life. A bear, hairy, with a big belly and a deep belly button. Can fart among other men openly, freely, and, most of all, proudly. The kind of guy who can fix a car with one hand while the other hand is scratching my belly button or drifting the stench of my farts up to my nose. I want to be as filthy of a man as can be, and I want to be proud of it!

As they say in an old Hollywood movie, life is like a box of chocolates… Do you like chocolates? Here's a box.

The chocolates are made of very dark chocolate. They smell of wood, leather and tobacco. Masculine. The first one has rings as a symbol and melts in your mouth. It tastes of whiskey. Very tasty. As the saying goes. A moment on your lips, a lifetime on your hips. You can feel your belly growing a little. And the piercings in your nipples feel great.

You can't really tell what's on the next chocolate… An eggplant? Maybe. It tastes… Musky? Your boner is growing in your pants as your belly swells over the waistband. Your foreskin grows back. You run your hand down your pants. Yes, that's good. You smear the precum. With your other hand, you take another chocolate.

It's a bear or something… Also filled with alcohol. But something different, tastes like beer. You have to burp. Your shirt stretches across your stomach and chest. You're growing fur. Everywhere. That was really tasty, you need another one of those. Hehehe, the burp was even better. Phew, how it stinks. Male! You have to take your shirt off before you tear it to pieces. You pull your hand out of your pants, the waistband is getting too tight. You smell your hand. Sweat and musk, sticky from the precum. You rub it clean on your hairy chest and then unbutton your pants. Your cock pops out like a jack-in-the-box.

There's another animal head on the next praline. Could be a bull. Your belly doesn't just swell, it bloats…. Brffffffffft! Phew, you can still put up with your own farts. And here comes another one. You take a deep breath. Yes, that's what a really good fart must smell like. You rub the bulge in your leather pants… It feels great. And the leather can tame a bit of your farts if necessary. If you want…

You haven't tried any of those yet. They have a geometric pattern on them. Your pecs have become man boobs. Big, powerful but soft. And decorated with tattoos that look like you've had them for decades. You get another one with an eggplant on it. Your balls and cock swell up. Your cock is rock hard. Shit, you have to cum. Your cum flies all the way into your beard. A deep puddle forms in your belly button. You rub it all into your fur with your calloused hands.

You've never had one with a wheel like this before. It tastes of oil. Kind of disgusting. And somehow hot. You put your heavy motorcycle boots down on the coffee table and adjust your muir cap. Shit, chocolate pralines don't really fit in your motorcycle workshop. But they do taste good. You have to fart again. And burp immediately afterwards. You hope no customers come in now.

The appetite comes with eating. You take two with a bear on them at once. The leather sofa groans under your weight. The muir cap feels great on your bare skull. The remains of your tobacco still cling to your mighty beard. Yes, you actually feel more like a good portion of Copenhagen or a cigar than a chocolate. But there are only two left anyway. One with a ring on it and one with a bull.

Shit, you can feel a hurricane brewing in your guts. You rub your belly and your tits. Your huge piercings in your nipples and glans are impressive. The leather strap stretches across your upper arm. One of your boys comes into your office and wants to ask you about the Fatboy that's due to be finished this afternoon. This is the moment you've been waiting for. Brbrbrbrbrffffffft! Shit, a bison would be proud. You take a deep breath. Your coworker turns pale. "Get used to it, boy!" you growl.

To apologize, you have given your employee an extra-large box of chocolates. He is to share it with the other boys. His questions are all answered. Now you need a midday nap. Your boys know that. For the next half hour, all they'll hear is snoring and farting coming from your office.

Pic found @musclefetish77

[snek-panini]

It is Monday, and Monday is for books. Look at these beautiful things! They took me five months to make. I tried so many new things in the process and I am extremely proud of them. This is a binding of @racketghost's amazing Good Omens fic Strange Moons (Hi. I hope it's ok I tagged you in this. Your fic has been one of my favorites since I found it in 2019.) The story is a series of short fics (and one long one) that really need no introduction from me. They're set throughout the 20th century, and they are beautiful and sensual and moody and you should definitely read them if you haven't already. This is the longest work I've bound so far, but I was fortunate that the word count on the shorter fics added up to almost exactly the length of the final, longest one, making them the perfect choice for a two-volume set. I tried very hard to get them to be an exact match, and they turned out even better than I pictured.

More pics under the cut! Two books means twice the pics, and all the stuff I tried here means it's a very long post, so be warned.

Individual images of the covers. The titles are done in silver htv over brown faux leather, edged in charcoal bookcloth. The graphics are the same on both, except for the title text, and they have the same image of the reaching hands on the back. All the art assets are from rawpixel, I just flipped and rotated some of them to make the back image.

The cover materials were an interesting challenge. I'd worked with both before and wanted to incorporate them both in the design, but after measuring and checking grain direction I found I didn't have enough of either of them to do a full book, or even a half bind. So they're actually made by affixing the faux leather to the book board, then layering strips of book cloth over the top. The corners are actually mitered at a 45-degree angle. Here's a close-up:

It's two long strips of cloth (spine and fore edge, not mitered) with two short strips (top and bottom, mitered) glued over the top. There was so much measuring, omg. I bought a new tool to make sure I got it right. Hilariously, I still didn't have enough leather and had to order another roll anyway. Also hilariously, I got the idea to do this after seeing an image of a leather-bound book made by a professional that appeared to have the same feature, i.e. multiple materials with an inset and mitered corners. Wow, I said, looking at a video thumbnail, I'm going to do that! So I did, even though I didn't watch the video. Much later, after I watched his tutorial, it was clear that the design was from leather dye and tooling, not the thing that I did at all. But I do like the effect, and now I know it's possible I think it'll be great for using up weird offcuts from making other covers.

Look, spines! With TITLES on them! And LITTLE RIDGES! Both firsts for me. I'm a little obsessed with them. The cricut has opened up entirely new worlds, though I suspect the little silver lines might have been easier to do with a foil pen (which I don't have) than they were with a heat press. I did them by making the cricut cut out several "=" symbols that were the same width as the spine. The raised bands are false bands; I made them by layering little pieces of chipboard on the spine stiffener, then molding the book cloth around them when I covered them. I was worried it wouldn't work, since this is usually done with leather and book cloth is apparently way less stretchy, but it worked fine. Probably because it's a small straight design, no curves or fancy bits. I'd layer the chipboard thicker next time so they stand up higher (this is 2 layers, I'd do 3 in future) but I'm delighted by how this turned out. They look so professional.

The endpapers on both books are a constellation print. I had a really hard time trying to find something to go with the typeset, and the only ones I liked were from an etsy seller who kept selling out of them. I got lucky eventually but it was one of many hassles that befell this project. I also made my own end bands using a tutorial from the Renegade Bindery discord. I had some issues and I didn't quite nail them but I think they're pretty good for a first time (ok, second time, the first one was on a practice text block, but my point stands). I had originally intended this to be a split boards binding, my first time trying that, but when I got the boards glued on I found that they were crooked. Really crooked. Completely misaligned. Much swearing followed this discovery. I ended up having to cut the boards free, cutting the mull and tapes in the process. The mull was easily replaced, but the parts of the tapes that are usually glued to the boards were a lost cause. I reused the boards, but flipped them so the edge with the cut tapes inside is at the fore edge so I could have a cleaner hinge. You can see in the last photo that the cover board is a little wider at the fore edge. On the plus side, there are no tapes to wrinkle my pretty endpapers and it combated the small bit of spine swell I had. On the downside, the hinge has less support and the only thing I learned was How Not To Make A Sewn Boards Binding.

I may have gone a little nuts with the images in this typeset. In my defense they look very pretty. In order, that's the title page, table of contents, section break image (same as the back cover, just tiny), chapter header and ender (each chapter has one on its first and last pages, they just look particularly cool when you can get a full page spread like this), and the image on the last page of the book (same as the cover image, almost). The cover image was also supposed to have little rays coming off its moon like this one does, but the lines proved too thin for the cricut and it ate them. I still like how it looks though. The prose in this story is really rich and I was in the mood for opulence when I did it. I have absolutely no regrets.

Here's a feature that's unique to this typeset. One of the chapters in the second volume has three alternating, interwoven timelines. I read them fine on Ao3 but had trouble following them when I formatted it for printing. Usually I'd use the section break image to denote when there's a scene skip but there are literally dozens in this chapter, like 40-60 breaks over the course of 10 or so pages, and it looked very busy with images in it. So I left them out, made the line skips single instead of double like they are elsewhere in the book, and I color-coded the text instead. One timeline is printed in black, one is dark gray, and one is dark blue. And it's a very surreal chapter, with the characters having some very confusing and conflicting emotions, so I feel like reading multicolored text when you're not expecting it (the rest of the book is all normal black and this bit is near the middle) sort of reflects that unbalanced feeling? I hope so anyway, because I love the way it looks so much.

I learned so many things in the course of making these. I'm absolutely doing all of them again. Part of the reason it took so long was that I wanted it to be perfect, or as near as I could get, and I had to take the time to solve all the puzzles it threw at me. But it stretched my creativity and ingenuity and I could not be more in love with the finished product.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Invisibility

I tried to write this post a few days ago, and Tumblr didn't let me post it for an undefined reason, and I was pissed...my post about feeling invisible can't be posted and they can't even tell me why. Fuckers. I'm a writer but I'm just not that into that particular symbolism. But now, maybe it will work and this post will be better because I might make more sense, but I definitely made more connections over a long day with J and my son yesterday. Let's see if I can do this...

OK, so I know every parent brags about their kid (actually they don't, and we'll get to that in a second, but...), but for any of this to make sense, my kid is gifted. I mean, no shit, he is exceptionally bright, and deep and mature for his age, and he hungers and thirsts to learn, and he sort of had a breakthrough in therapy at his last session that part of the problem he's having with his mental health is feeling unchallenged and lied to about what high school would be (he's bored, even in honors/Advanced Placement courses; the best his school has to offer in the line of academic challenge), and also he's having a hard time accepting that he's 'not like other kids.' He's not being bullied for being smart/talented; he's being celebrated, but to him, it all is still reading that he's noticeably different, academically/intellectually, and he actually WANTS to be more invisible. But he can't be. If he's himself...it's clear that he's different and decidedly seen. He just stands very prominently out.

He had a good day yesterday, though. J and I are very proud of him. He's performing in academic competition (to be with his friends and socialize for fun mostly...he doesn't study hard for these competitions...in fact he doesn't study at all; he doesn't put pressure on himself to do well, and J and I don't either...sometimes it's even pretty evident that he's not trying very hard) as a freshman at the same level the brightest seniors in the state are performing. He was the individual regional runner up yesterday in the arts and humanities section (the only freshman in the region to qualify) and a very valuable part of his team qualifying for the state championship tournament in team competition. My brother did this same stuff when he was in high school (but didn't perform this well with this much ease and lack of emphasis on the actual competition). And my dad got really involved for my brother. My dad's involved for my son now too, and since I'm so much older than my brother, some of the other teachers and officials involved remember my dad (and my brother) from their previous participation. A version of the following exchange has happened multiple times since Boy joined the school's competing team:

An old acquaintance of Dad's: Wow, F! Good to see you! You're back!

Dad: Yeah! Boy is my grandson, so I'm helping out at <high school, not the one my brother went to>. (My dad says this with obvious pride on his face and in his voice; he wants everyone to know that Boy is his grandson, because he's Obviously Gifted.)

Acquaintance: <My Brother>'s kid?! (he's too young to have a kid in high school, unless he became a young teenage father, which they'd know about, because that's when they knew my dad and brother)

Dad: No, my daughter's son.

Acquaintance: You have a daughter?

See, my mom did a great job of teaching me that invisible was what I needed to strive to be by being hyper-independent and 'easy' (which I think is the first piece I wrote on this blog...I may repost it here in a bit too). That's what other people wanted from me. So I became invisible. But I've always wanted to be seen. I've spent most of my life hoping people would see me, totally the opposite of my son. The thing is, I achieved (not as much or as easily as my son) in similar ways to my son, but I never got noticed or praised for it. There was always another priority ahead of me with my parents, both of them, not just my mom. Work, my brother, my grandparents, their own hobbies and passions. They needed me to be independent and easy and out of their way; they needed me to not have desires and needs; they needed me to be invisible. I was encouraged not to be noticed, so I wasn't, wanting to please my mom. I achieved at being invisible, because I thought that's what would make them happy. I was definitely successful at being invisible. But my brother achieved and got seen. And my son achieves and gets seen even without wanting to be. But still not me; I've always been invisible.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my mom about The Boy, and his aversion to being seen and receiving positive attention (he gets that from me and J both, for different reasons, I guess; J is just a really humble man, and I'm mistrusting of kindness and have really bad imposter syndrome), and how it seems to bother him when anyone notices him, even for his gifts, almost like he's ashamed of them, whereas when I was a kid (and let's be real, even now as an adult), I just wanted someone to notice me. Something or someone else was always ahead of me in line, boxing me out. And my mom actually said what's probably the most empathetic thing she's ever said to me (30ish years too late for it to land in a helpful way, but still empathy), 'You must have felt invisible.' Yeah, Mom. I did. I still do a lot. I feel like even if I am really busting my ass to achieve something that gets other people noticed, no one notices me. And while I'd prefer my son be grateful for his gifts and be as proud of himself as J and I (and my parents and my brother and his coach and teammates) are of him, I'm glad his problem is with feeling TOO seen instead of invisibility. He actually almost craves invisibility. I'm trying to learn and accept from him that maybe invisibility has advantages. It is, after all, considered a superpower for clear reasons. But I'm glad he's not invisible. He's definitely seen.

And I still want to buy my dad a shirt to wear to the state competition that says, 'He's my daughter's son; I have a daughter too.'

[nokaru]

2021 Creator Self-Love Extravaganza!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2021. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3

Tagged by @onedivinemisfit

Oh boy I didn't expect this as Im more of a baby creator haha. This year was a big step for me cause I got my first graphic tablet (just this June i think?) WOW. I finally grew some balls and posted one of my first AnS fanarts, I obviously still have a long way to go and a lot of stuff to learn but Im very proud of myself :) cant wait to get better and make more lovely fanart like everyone else here!

Year total: 17(ish) artworks baby steps lets gooo

1. Shirayuki thinks you are doing great!

The second work I ever posted! Ah the FEELS I get from this one. I still love it and it actually gives me motivation, I just jshqkafjfjshfksfsfjds yeah she's the cutest <3

2. “Wildflowers best stay wild.”

Torou my beloved, my darling, my everything + flower symbolism, Im over the moon with this one cause as you can see 90% of my brain contains Torou and flowers :,) I had so much fun researching cornflowers and learning more about them! I'm petting my back for Torou's hair (and choking from that horrible skin). I remember having a hard time with this new brush but I think I’m finally getting a hang of it.

3. This shitpost meme lol idk

I'm too much of a clown not to include this one. In all honesty I unironically absolutely adore this one, not only is this the first time I drew Kiki but its also the first time I tried proper coloring oh boy I LOVE THE COLORS Im so so proud this is where I peaked xD Kiki is simply the best what a queen.

4. AnS x The Owl House AU

Ah yes my forgotten The Owl House AU, It still brings me joy even though I don't keep up with Owl house anymore. One of my best pieces hands down, love everything about this, the pose, colors, Shirayuki as a plant witch and her small pointy ears aaaaa Coming up with the headcanons and scenarios was such an amazing experience, I haven't had so much fun in a long time. When TOH comes back from a hiatus I'll explore more of this AU for sure.

5. Zenyuki lullaby

Cute Zenyuki moment I drew for Alex as a gift! Heavily inspired by chapter 100 and Alex's prompt. I'm in love with the atmosphere in there so I tried something similar yet different. An idea hit me like a train and I just couldn't rest lmao. Really one of my favourite Zenyuki moments.

I had so much fun this year and I can see a lot of improvement, time to get on the grind and get better! Hope next year and other years will be as entertaining as this one :D Thank you everyone~

Tagging: @randomwriter  @what-plant-metaphor-am-i @time-speculo and more and more of you lovely people <33

[how-masterful]

To Have Your Cake (And Eat It Too)

Dhawan!master x Reader

Summary: The Master has gotten himself tied up. On your birthday of all days. Stuck in a straightjacket and with no idea how long its going to last, you decide to treat your Time lord with a share of your sweet and sinful birthday desires

Notes: for the second year in a row, this is the official how masterful birthday fic™ for her absolutely beloved @plethora-of-imagines . happy birthday, my love! I hope through all the chaos of losing the first draft, flaky internet connections, and a crippling desire for this fic to work out, you hopefully enjoy your birthday gift! 🥳❤💫

this fic was partly inspired by this piece of artwork by @/thoscheii

The Master tugged angrily on his arms, for the fifth time that minute. He grit his teeth together, yanking his shoulders downwards. 

It was a fruitless effort. 

The straight jacket still refused to budge.

“I’ve tried everything, Master. You really are stuck in there until those time locks fall off.”

He tugged once more, before sighing and sinking back into his chair.

“Great. Absolutely magnificent.”

It was a stupid idea. You’d told him as such. The planet of the bachelors, solo men that thrived on their isolation from women. Females within the species simply didn't exist. The Master had seemingly decided the best idea in the universe, something he’d say about every new plan, would be to try and blend in in order to steal some exciting world destroying weapons (and obviously refuse to tell you about the details). It would be an absolute piece of cake, he’d decreed as soon as he’d planned it- sneak in, steal the plans, sneak out. It would only take fifteen minutes or so. That was 7 hours ago.

However, in his pride and… underestimation of the species’ intelligence, he’d made a single, glaring oversight.

He hadn't taken the bloody wedding ring off of his finger.

“Have you really tried everything?”

You turned from your position leant against the console, sending him an offended expression. The Tardis hummed and whirred in your defence.

“Yes! Every single idea you gave me!”

“Are you sure?”

You widened your eyes in an expression that hopefully conveyed to him it wouldn't be wise to ask again. The Tardis beeped rapidly, hoping to dissolve the tension. Still leaning against the console you folded your arms, looking down at your husband. 

“Yes, Master. I promise. I really think you’re just gonna have to wait this one out.”

The Master let out a loud and rather obnoxious groan. He let his head fall back, scrunching up his face in a look of pure annoyance. But even that expression of disappointment, and most likely rage, couldn't be fully executed. The thick red collar that sat around his neck propped up his head like a neck brace.

To his credit, taking off his ring wasn't something he had to do often. Since the day he’d put it on for the first time it never seemingly came off. That was part of his overt sentimentality that you secretly adored. Plus, it hadn’t caused any problems for the pair of you. The ring, a golden band engraved with endless circular Gallifreyan, sat snugly on his finger and often shone, even in low light. It acted as a symbol, a sign to other creatures great and small that he was indeed a taken Time Lord. It matched your own, your wedding band sharing the same design that comfortably nested itself upon your own hand. Of course, yours had to share a finger with the engagement ring- a white point star, shrunken perfectly to sit and shimmer in a band forged from the oldest nugget of gold in the universe.

You looked down at the ring, smiling fondly at the glimmering star that sat on your finger. It shifted and refracted at even the smallest of movements, even in the low light of the Tardis. From there you looked up to see the Master still trying to flop back his head, grumbling and muttering something most likely threatening to himself. You tilted your head, watching him struggle, before carefully making your way over to sit yourself down in his lap. Taking his face in your hands you carefully brushed over his cheeks with your thumbs, the anger and rage that simmered in his expression slowly melting away as he stared up at you with a rare, rather defeated expression.

It wasn't often that the Master was the one in need of saving. At least in the typical, damsel in distress sort of way. It was no secret that the Master had a history of getting in over his head, especially when it came to the Doctor and their centuries long rivalry- from the Autons all the way to the Kasaavin, the Master would sometimes need that extra helping hand. But with you, he was always so proudly in command. The Master of the situation, one could say. With you he would stride in, proudly taking control over every situation: if you were in danger he’d burst in burning with unstoppable rage, guns blazing- more likely TCE blazing, and would happily destroy anything and anyone that was in the path between you and him. Only now it was him that required the whole rescuing thing.

Seeing him like this, bound in a jacket with timed locks that simply refused to budge, almost made him look humbled. But of course he wouldn't let something so small destroy his persistent (And slightly enjoyable) egomania.

“It suits you, y’know.”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Is that your way of making me feel better?”

“I’m serious. I never thought I'd say it, but you suit a collar and straight jacket.”

The Master bit back a laugh, sending you an incredulous expression.

“Really? Is that so? Because I feel like a knock off Houdini. Even I don't deserve that.”

You pouted dramatically, sticking out your bottom lip. Your hand reached up to ruffle his already messy hair, earning an even angrier scowl.

“You’re enjoying yourself far too much. Just you wait until I get out of here.”

“Aw, is the big bad Master angry he's got his collar on and matches his wife?”

The Master gave a reluctant laugh, narrowing his eyes like a cat. You tickled under his chin with your fingers, enjoying watching him attempt to squirm away. You could tell he was trying so hard to seem offended, but the way he subtly titled his head to grant you more access to the strip of skin under his chin made you believe otherwise. 

It was also undeniable that the thick red collar that sat around his neck matched your own. It seemed, to the Master, that his collaring of you was a pre marriage arrangement. Your own was a rich, purple leather that curved around your throat, lined with golden velvet that sat flush against your skin. Golden hardware, buckles and rings decorated the piece, making the thing look incredibly lavish and expensive- and judging by the Masters taste, it probably was.

“Don't patronise me, love.”

The Master was scowling again. It looked rather cute. You placed a quick peck to the top of his forehead, watching him scowl in return.

“I can't help it Master, you look like a kicked puppy. All grumpy and angry. You know Its your own fault you got into this mess.”

The Master opened his mouth, ready to argue to the ends of the earth as to how he wasn't responsible for the consequences of his own actions. This argument was neither new, nor something you wanted to get into again.

 Suddenly, you had a thought. It was a naughty thought, rather nefarious. 

Though not deadly, the thought was slightly dangerous. If only for what the Master might do when he finally got free. Yes, this was an ample opportunity for you to follow through, and use the new situation to your advantage. He’d be so proud, you thought, if it wasn't him in said situation. 

You pushed your finger against the Master's lips, catching the Time Lord slightly off guard. Once again, his eyes narrowed.

“Move. Your. Finger.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the universal symbol of shut up and listen, Master.”

The Time Lord pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring absolute daggers in your direction. Slowly you pulled your finger away from his lips, moving your face so close your noses almost touched.

“Fine, I'm listening.”

“Of all the days, Master. You had to choose today. Lucky for you, the Tardis thinks there's not much time left on those time locks. Lucky for me, it gives me just enough time to have some fun with you.”

If the Master's eyes were narrow before, now they were creeping wide. You could see the calculations his brain was performing behind his eyes, all the thoughts and possibilities swirling around in his head like brain soup. Rarely was the Master ever in a situation where somebody intended to have fun with HIM. Usually it was the other way around. This was a new sensation, a feeling of which the Master in all his years of existence had yet to fully comprehend.

Was this… what nervousness felt like?

It wasn't long until he was about to find out.

In all his time, cataloguing his thoughts and trying to figure out what you could possibly mean, the Master failed to notice you slipping from his lap and heading off towards the kitchen. With a skip in your step, you quickly made your way towards the piece of delicious, freshly baked cake that sat under the crystal glass dome on the counter top-  grabbing a fork on your journey back as you circled, returning to the door from which you came.

Quickly scarpering back to the console room, you could see the Master still thinking, his eyebrows furrowed as he tugged at the jacket once more. He really did look like a curious cat, sneering at the problem at hand while also being absolutely fascinated. You carefully made your way towards the Time Lord, letting out a small cough to break him from his focus. Suddenly, his head snapped up towards you, his mess of hair flying backwards as he looked from your smug expression to the plate in your hand, before turning back to your face with a knowing look.

The large triangle of birthday cake, decorated in thick frosting and rainbow sprinkles, sat upon the fine china plate. 

“What are you up to now?”

“You decided to get yourself tied up on my birthday. You’re going to enjoy this slice of cake with me even if I have to feed you it by hand. Now open.”

The Master watched intently as you held the fork to his lips, sending you an unimpressed expression.

“There's nothing on it.” he deadpanned.

“I know that,” you sighed. “Hold it for me while I get myself comfortable.”

The Master rolled his eyes, before opening his lips and taking the fork between his teeth. He looked like those flamenco dancers that would brandish a rose in their mouth while dancing, only slightly less flamboyant. Though the Master definitely was no stranger to flamboyance, if his past regenerations and even more recent plans were anything to go off.

“What on earth are you planning?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, watching you precariously place the plate upon his thigh. His eyes watched with absolute wonder as he saw what you were doing.

Carefully, in front of the Time Lord, you began to tug at the hem of your underwear from beneath the already rather short dressing gown- the pile of clothes you’d rescued him in already sat in a pile in the corner of the room. You slowly shimmied your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving your body as you purposely drew out your movements. You could tell the Master was fascinated, the way his chest had begun to rise and fall slightly faster than usual. Methodically you teased him, slipping the underwear from your legs and throwing them on to the pile. Your hands then slowly wandered to the Master's knees, the Time Lord taking in a deep breath as you fiddled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it down to expose his underwear. You took hold of the plate on his thigh before it toppled, using your other hand to pull down the waistband of the Masters underwear, carefully freeing the Masters hardening cock. You could hear him let out a low, guttural groan behind the fork.

Without breaking his gaze you straddled over his thighs, pushing your body against his own as you sank yourself down to sit on his now firm cock. You gasped softly as you felt him inside you, the Masters left eye practically twitching as he bit down on the fork in his mouth. You rocked backwards and forwards a couple times, settling yourself down in his lap, before you brought the plate to sit between your chest and his own. Soon after, you finally reached to pull the fork from between his teeth. The Master was staring at you, wordlessly, lightly panting for breath as you smiled oh so innocently.

“There,” you teased. “Much comfier.”

The Master was working his way towards catching his breath.

“You know… if you were anybody else… I'd kill you for this.”

You laughed lightly, measuring out the size of the first bite with the prongs of the fork.

“Good. Because if anybody else did this to you, I'd kill them as well. You’re my husband after all.”

“You’re getting far too cheeky, love. I think you need reminding who's in charge here.”

You leant forwards in the Masters lap, purposely shifting your hips. You couldn't help but smile at the involuntary gasp he gave.

“What are you going to do, Master? Spank me? With what hands?”

The Master met your gaze, matching your expression. Your faces were mere inches away from each others, your eyes daring each other to make the next move.

“You’re in so much trouble after this.”

“You can't punish the birthday girl, Master. That's just plain old rude.”

The Master chuckled fondly.

“Forgive me for misplacing my manners, dearest. I must’ve left them with my hands.”

“Apology accepted.”

You nipped at the end of his nose with your teeth, before giggling cheekily and leaning in for a kiss. The Master, in all his superiority and domination, couldn't help but kiss back. He always failed to stay fully angry at you. Your noses brushed together as you stole a kiss from each other's mouths, the pair of you dissolving into quiet laughter once you parted. 

“Let me have this moment, Master. Please.”

The Master pondered for a moment, tilting his head dramatically to the side and watching your hopeful expression blossom onto your face. He huffed out a sigh, looking up at you with another defeated expression. Only this one was full of genuine fondness.

“Fine.” he sighed finally. “Because it's your birthday.”

Your smile was absolutely beaming. You pulled the end chunk of cake onto the fork, holding it up to the Masters mouth. The frosting was almost dripping back onto the plate from the fluffy, bite sized piece. He parted his lips, waiting for you to place the cake into his mouth.

“Say please, Master.”

“Don't push it, Y/n.”

You simply shrugged in return, before placing the cake into the Master's mouth. As he chewed you gently began to circle your hips, lightly moving atop his cock, generating a small amount of friction. The Master gave a quiet moan, letting his eyes flutter shut as the cake melted on his tongue. He licked at his lips, catching the small trail of frosting and sprinkles that had remained on his lips.

“How is it?” you purred softly.

The Master smacked his lips together, before giving a lazy smile.

“I’m enjoying myself more than I anticipated.”

“Poor Master, did you think I was going to torture you?”

The Master chuckled as you offered him another piece of cake, parting his lips and watching you intently as you teasingly pulled the fork slowly from his mouth. You continued to twist and circle your hips, the Master's eyes watching you almost hypnotically. You could feel a hot flush begin to creep up your face, the apples of your cheeks blushing a sweet red as your shoulders began to relax. The Master smirked, watching you break off another chunk of the sprinkle covered cake. Only this time you placed it into your own mouth.

You could see why the Master reacted so positively. The flavours swirled and collided in your mouth, your taste buds exploding with sensory pleasure. Your hips swivelled and rocked, much like clockwork, as you rolled your head over your shoulders and gave a deep moan of pleasure.

“Shit, that's a good cake.” you admitted, fluttering open your eyes. The Master was licking his lips, hands lightly tugging on the straightjacket as you licked the frosting from your teeth.

“It's almost as nice as our first wedding cake.”

“Go on, take another bite.”

Weakly, you nodded, breaking off another chunk with the fork and placing it on your tongue. The ‘yes Master’ you gave was almost a whisper.

You did the same for your husband, feeding him another chunk of the cake while continuously building a rhythm of motion atop his cock. The Master was groaning, harder than before, a light sweat beginning to form on his brow. He couldn't help but notice how much closer you’d pressed yourself to his torso, the cake almost sliding from the plate that was now practically diagonal against your chest.

“Y’know, it's not the first time I've worn something like this.” the Master admitted between mouthfuls.

“Seriously?” your voice was almost lost behind a moan.

“White straightjacket, red collar, I think they- fuck- chose something from my personal history to cage me in.”

The Master was now beginning to thrust his hips up against yours, jostling your rhythm and causing you to give a shocked gasp of pleasure. The plate almost fell from your chest, barely being caught by your spare hand and the edge of the fork.

“Master, yes-”

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the guttural moan you wanted to give. The sweetness of the cake mixed with the burning deep in your belly was causing your senses to go into overdrive. The Master was methodical, thrusting up as best he could with the top of his body tied in place. His movements were sending chills shooting up your spine, knowing exactly how to make you gasp for breath and beg for more. He always knew exactly what you desired, his body and mind instinctively understanding every primal desire you had. Maybe you were just obvious. Or perhaps he was more sentimental than he let on.

Soon the once imposing slice of cake was nothing more than a single section. Crumbs and sprinkles poked from the corners of your mouth and onto your lips, the Master's teeth gnashing upwards in a bid to lick them away. Your speed and ferocity had increased to the point where you needed to stabilize yourself atop the Masters thrusting cock. Both of you had begun to sweat. Something needed to give.

“Master, I need, fuck-”

“I swear to god, let me taste you.”

The Master was panting like an animal.

“The plate-”

“Fuck the plate. I’ll buy you as many as you want. Come here, do as you’re told.”

You gave an inhumane snarl as the fork clattered to the floor, your fingers grasping hold of the last square of cake. Frosting oozed down your fingers as you relented your grip on the plate, the small black plate crashing down onto the hard wood and shattering into thousands of shards. The Master opened wide as you bucked your hips, your fingers pushing the cake firmly against his mouth. Sprinkles and crumbs smeared over the Masters lips as you abandoned all inhibition, your own mouth diving in to follow as your lips crashed together in an animalistic kiss. Teeth and tongues slashed and battled for control as the sweet concoction oozed down your throats, the taste of the frosting melting into the taste of each others mouths.

Crumbs and sticky decoration stained the clean white straightjacket as your fingers clasped hold of the Masters shoulders, your forehead pushing against his as he snarled into the kiss. Your hips thrusted furiously against his own, the pair of you rising and falling against the back of the chair as you begged for friction and every sensation you were willing to share. Your fingers fisted into the back of the Master's hair, the other hand stroking down his back and running over the intricate set of time locks that connected the jacket together in an intricate lattice of latches. You tugged on them as you went, growing deeper into the kiss as you bounced yourself up and down in the Masters lap. 

You could feel yourself getting close to the precipice of satisfaction, the Master's teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his tongue licked over the mess. Your noses pushed together as you hissed in delight, your body clamouring for release as you whined pathetically in his ear.

“Master, so close” you begged, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth.

The Master snapped his teeth together, pushing his forehead against his own.

“Don't you dare cum” he barked, groaning as you licked down the side of his face.

“Please, please I can't-”

“Listen to your Master” he growled in your ear. As if that would do anything but make it worse.

The Master continued to thrust and groan, his face flush almost as red as his collar as he edged you closer and closer to release. You struggled to even control your mouth, groans and cries of pleasure escaping your throat as you completely fell apart in the Masters lap. Everything was building up inside of you, your body absolutely ready to feel the warm wave of release course through your very being. All you were waiting on was the Masters word.

And then it finally arrived.

“Cum”

You felt your whole body ricochet from the sudden release of pressure. Your scream was painfully desperate as you felt yourself fold into nothingness in the Masters lap. You gave in completely, the warmth spreading through your entire body as you climaxed hard and fast upon the Masters still hard cock. Tears were mixing with the streaming sweat as you slumped forward against the Master's chest, the Time Lord chuckling as your exhausted eyes fluttered shut on impact. You were about to sleepily flirt, much like usual, sweetening the already malleable Master with your flattering words and praises, when a loud bang sent your eyes flying wide open.

One by one, the time locks that ran up the Masters spine unclasped and plummeted down to the floor, collecting in a heap as they slid through the back of the chair. You picked your head up to look at the Master, sweat dripping from his brow and sprinkles caught in his stubble, watching as the Time Lords face slowly began to spread into a dangerous grin. You felt a chill go down your spine as he slowly began to unfold his arms, forcing you to sit up in his lap, supporting yourself by pushing down on his thighs.

“Well then”

The Master purred, pulling his arms free from their clasps. His fingers wriggled within the triangle shaped tip of the sleeve, his hands reaching up to slickly unclasp the thick red collar from around his neck. It fell to the floor, joining the locks, fork, and what was left of the plate. He looked down at you with a typical, Masterful, Cheshire cat grin.

“Would you look at that?”

Instinctively you gulped, looking up at the Master as he lifted your chin with his cloth covered fingers.

“Now I don't know about you, love, but I've noticed you’ve been getting a little bit too cheeky for my liking.”

At best, you sent him a weak smile. You knew what was about to happen.

“And I have hands now. Lucky, lucky you.”

“I'm guessing you’re going to punish me now, aren't you Master?”

The Master shushed you, tutting as he shook his head. He still clasped your chin in his hand.

“You said it yourself, dear. I can't punish the birthday girl. But I can encourage her to help me get the release I so lovingly provided for her. It's only fair, after all. If there happens to be a lesson or two learned in the process? Call that an added bonus.”

You chuckled weakly as the Master guided you to stand, supporting your still twitching hips as you sent him a wry smile.

“Y’know Master, there's a phrase we have on earth. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”

The Master tilted his head, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape as he crooked an eyebrow. It soon melted away into a gentle smile, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, my love.” he grinned, a chuckle building in his throat as he pecked the top of your forehead.

“I just did.”

All of a sudden you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the impact of the Masters shoulder against your stomach knocking the wind out of your system. He barked out a proud laugh as he raised a hand to spank your already reddened ass, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your hip as you gave a surprised yelp.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he cried, laughing as he carried you towards the bedroom, where god knows what painful pleasure awaited you.

“I hope the birthday girl has room for seconds!”

[anawkwardlady]

2 for the writing ask

From

all of them : guidance (ciel & sebastian) tooth (alois & claude), dare/eyelashes (ciel/alois), comfort food (alois), in dreams (ciel/alois)

Got longer that I thought it would damn. I usually try to lean more on symbolism but even if I kinda did, I was really matter of fact about this one lol.

2. tooth

It should be strong as a bathtub

Right now he was cracking like a tea cup.

Alois was breathing heavily, nightgown damp with sweat. Blood strains in the sink soiled a tiny tooth he just spat out. His butler kneels down, trying to sooth the trembling boy.

"Young master, what are we panicking about ?"

"I'm rotting Claude... Look ! Look !"

Claude raised an eyebrow and collected the little piece, examining it in the palm of his hand. He then asked Alois to open his mouth and took a look inside.

"This ? Sir it might just be a baby tooth..."

His master huffed, calming down nonetheless.

"A what ? Claude do I look like a baby to you ? I lost them all a long time ago !"

"All ?"

Alois blinked. In fact he had no remembrance of such thing as losing baby teeth. He probably was aching for worst when it happened. He had no one to show that anytime one fell down. They just.. fell. A vague and uncomfortable memory of getting his mouth examined and treated in his early days in the Trancy manor messed with his train of thought. He tasted metal. Feeling a finger touching his gums he bite down in surprise as hard as he could, only to wince in pain. Claude barely broke face and simply took his finger out.

"No need to bite master, I was about done. My apologies if I have hurt you. I will call someone to look tomorrow but you can lose a baby tooth later in life, it happens. Some people have to get them removed because they can't fall at all, maybe they find struggle in the act of growing up. Who's to say."

Alois mumbled something and curled up against his butler, waited to be pat and comforted which he did none but holding him, probably waiting to be freed for the night. The child didn't acknowledge his maid who came sneaking in the room to clean the sink. Hannah gently washed and Alois looked. She made crimson turn soiled pink and made it disappeared to leave it pristine white. Did the same for the few drops on the floor.

"Oh master, you were lucky" Claude broke the silence, taking down his glasses, using it as a magnifying glass on the tooth.

"This one had a little cavity on it. You should be careful with sweets and eat them when presented to you... Not in the middle of the night."

Alois got up, pouting to avoid venom. "Shut up. You're talking nonsense."

"Do you feel better, master ?" Hannah intervened with a low voice.

"Oh I'm fine"

"Should... Should we keep it ?"

"Keep that ?" Alois chuckled,

"For what, who ? As far as I know, no one gave a shit before. I don't need you all to pretend you're oh so proud of me for growing. I don't need you to put this disgusting thing in a stupid baby pink box and let it die in a closet when I know you're all waiting for me to die ! The sooner the better right ?" He tried to suppress the sob in his voice but couldn't fight the tears.

"If... If I wanted you to keep it, you're years too late... And, and theres no reasons to start now... I don't need your fucking pity"

He wanted to end it all just thinking at the idea of a sad little memory box with an only sad little tooth inside.

"Get out before I get angry !"

She wanted to violently shake her head and hug him until he calmed down. She however did as told, not wanting to escalate the situation and left under the cold stare of the Trancy butler who stayed silent.

He wiped the child's face, fixed his hair and clothes which made Alois think he probably looked terrible right now. His butler picked him up, whispering something about going back to bed. They silently wondered inside the manor only lighted up by few candles. Once they got back inside the master bedroom, Claude lied him down on the bed and covered him.

"You had a troubling night, please rest for now"

"Sorry Claude... I know I'm exhausting..."

"I cannot be exhausted, Sir."

"Claude ?"

"Yes ?"

"I really.... I really thought I was rotting inside you know"

He looked at the boy buried under the covers, almost asleep.

"As long as I remain your butler, as long as I hold your life, you will not be allowed to rot away, your highness."

Alois took his word as he was too tired to fight it, he fell asleep, in one of many dreamless night.

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

Ugh, okay, so there's so many questions from the meta writers question thing that I want to ask, so you don't have to answer all of them lol but 1, 3, 4, 20, and/or 25?

I will say though, I'm very very interested in that band AU that I think you keep referencing working on, tbh idk what the acronym means, but I'm very excited about it 👀

writing asks!

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

I have a few so let me just chat about them all! one is, ofc, something bigger than the sky that I'm working on with Hali (@phantasmagoric-acquaintance)

it's a collaborative work between the two of us that is the content of balance from her perspective in the umbra staff! it's progressing well, we're nearly done and i can't believe it! i just love getting to work with my best friend on something tbh :3

the next one is RHAPAW, my beloved band au. (it stands for rode hard and put away wet and i promise there's a reason for that lsdkfjsdlf). Progress is pretty good! I've got about 5k words of it right now, I know some of the most major plot points, and I have a pretty clear idea of how it's going to end!! Honestly i love Barry in this more than life itself (but I do just love the idea of Lup, Kravitz, and Johann all in a band together too so don't make me choose <3)

(also extra bonus, I am working on extending about three prompt fills I did a while ago so keep an eye out for those)

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

OKAY I GOT IT i have been thinking about this for like. months. Basically i do have this au idea wherein Taako dies in Wonderland. A version of Arms Outstretched still happens but basically Taako is dead and in the Astral Plane, Magnus is in the mannequin body still, and Merle is still Merle. Barry is there as the red robe, of course. Edward still gets eaten by staff and Merle goes to grab it and tries to cast something and it just Doesn't work. And at this point, Merle is just over it. like "You magic piece of shit, you couldn't save my friend, you won't let me cast, what the hell is the use?" and he just SNAPS it. and it's like a bomb goes off. And Merle's head feels like it's going to explode because there's another red robe? but he can't hear it or see its face and the original red robe is...crying? And Magnus is trying to hug it? and he keeps saying "Merle, holy shit it's [redacted] how could Lucretia just [redacted] like that?"

and it obviously continues but that is the barest bones shit of it.

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

this is so hard because i feel like my content is better than the actual writing itself!! but i guess if i have to pick one i do love the ridiculously unhinged monologue Taako goes on in like, chapter two of flours? (part of it below)

And then your wonderful twin sister might annoyingly keep changing her mind on what flowers she wants on her cake. Mind you, your twin sister might also specifically request that the flowers on the cake be fresh, not made of pulled sugar or gum paste or fondant or frosting, no they just have to be fresh because gods forbid I ever get to do sugar work. And not that there’s anything wrong with fresh flowers, mind you, but it might happen to be something that is just out of your comfort zone. And while you would normally go to Fantasy Costco, you can’t anymore because they hired a really weird cashier who keeps offering to make you deals even though it’s fucking Fantasy Costco and the prices are literally marked so you have to begin to wonder to yourself if that cashier even actually works there.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

i just really like exploring friendships between characters that either just Wouldn't/Didn't/Couldn't happen in the show (AM Radio, Flours, and like, a million prompt fills have been examples of this)

also. I know I referenced this in the tags BUT both vampire twins pieces and the werewolf magnus piece all take place in the same universe (the magnus piece takes place a year or two prior to the vampire twins pieces)

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

okay i already answered this one BUT another really fun part is just finding inspiration in the weirdest of places. like actually now that i think about it, like five of my fics/wips have been inspired by me innocuously listening to music lskdfjsld

[lemonysnicket]

4 for artist asks? :D

(4. What is a piece you'd really really like to talk about but people don't ask - go wild!) ooooh this one is hard, but i'm pretty proud of this one right here

it was pretty experimental for me; i was using a lot of new brushes and tried to do my traditional style that i would usually do with colored pencils with a digital medium. it only god 3 notes 😭so im gonna go off a bit LOL

the character here is not mine, but a friend's, and her name is natalie. a lot of the themes of her character involve grief, guilt, and growth (sorry i had to make it alliterate LMAO) and those are the vibes i was trying to convey here. a lot of her visual motifs include medical things, like hospitals and bones and all of that kind of stuff, along with decay, plants, flowers, etc. those are the two main things i pulled from when making this. the abandoned hospital waiting room setting, along with being overgrown by plants and the like, doesn't really have any direct symbolism, but it generally points towards how she's changed due to her trauma and growing up as a person. sounds pretty deep but also i just really wanted to use some new plant brushes LMAO.

it didn't get nearly as much attention as my other work (which is understandable since it's not fanart or anything) but i'm still pretty happy with it, so i appreciate an excuse to share it lol!

[bird-in-a-cage]

#42 from the prompt list... I mean I'm sorry but... I NEED TO SEE THAT.

Wow, am I sorry this took so long! This was a tough prompt but, thanks to @cockasinthebird for being a wonderful human being, we got through it. So I hope this was worth the wait!

Prompt list is here if anyone wants to throw a prompt at me!

#42: “I didn’t say “sex party” as in orgy.  I said “hex party” as in witches.”

So far, college had been okay. It was as hard and challenging as Steve had expected, but he was getting on almost well. He had to spend a lot of time studying in the library, reading and re-reading source materials, typing, editing, deleting and starting all over again with essays and assignments sure. But it was different from high school, on a deep level he wanted to be here, amongst the old stone buildings that either held no heat at all or far too much depending on the weather outside, surrounded by people who also shared a passion for learning. It was different to focus on what he wanted to learn instead of just having to cram a little bit of everything into his brain everyday.

Turns out, if he was just allowed to go a little slower and take his time, he wasn’t as dumb as everyone back home at thought.

He’d gotten into college by the skin of his teeth, pulling far too many all nighters and living off five hour energy to drag his grades up when it was almost too late, pulling in every favour he had to retake anything below a C with nothing but a prayer and a pleading smile, somehow managing to not go completely insane in the process. Getting a 3 point grade average at graduation had been nothing short of a miracle. He wanted to say his parents had nothing to do with his acceptance into quite a nice school, but in reality Steve knew they probably greased a palm or two. Maybe helped pay for the new set of band uniforms that were recently unveiled.

The college itself was beautiful. Steve had fallen for it on his first visit. Old stone buildings, a large green campus area, a good surrounding community, regular activities and groups to go meet up with and try different things with now he was getting out of small town Hawkins and away from being stuck in what he knew. 

There was something a bit…odd about the college though. Steve would be sat in the library, for example, finishing up a comparison piece when he would hear the telltale low battery beep from his headphones. He always forgot to bring a charger. He knew it was on his nightstand back in the dorm room, wrapped around the drawer handle so he wouldn’t forget to lift it this time, so it was pointless checking his bag for it. He would go to pack his things away, open up his slouchy backpack and there it would be, his exact one because he’d wrapped a piece of green tape around it when his roommate kept stealing it and swearing blind he hadn’t, laying curled around his water bottle..

That wasn’t the only example though. Things would just appear when he was looking for them. Books he needed from a completely different section would just happen to be on the shelf he was currently looking at. If a flavour of soda was sold out at a vending machine, he would pick another, but the one he originally wanted would tumble out, ice cold and somehow impossibly refreshing. None of them were a major inconvenience by far, but it was just odd. 

The only small downside to the college of his dreams is that he forgot to investigate anything about the fraternities and sororities. Steve didn’t really have any desire to be in any frat even if offered, they were just houses for boys to pretend not to be at least a little bicurious as they bumped into each other all sweaty playing sports, using basketball as an excuse to touch each other’s muscles. Flat out no homo-ing each other. Steve was out and proud at college, didn’t need an excuse anymore other than “you’re hot, you wanna?”. The days of bi-panic and needing a thinly veiled excuse such as helping someone he thought was cute off the ground in the middle of a match were long gone.  Steve had been to a couple of frat parties, naturally, everyone did. They were kinda fun if you hung around outside away from the thick, choking air of sexual tension that was threatening to bubble over at any minute.

Everyone knew frat houses were just potential orgy dens, right?

There was one frat house though, just off campus and to the right a little, that gave off a weird vibe. The Omega House. It didn’t look that special, had dark grey panelling on the outside, windows trimmed in white, the omega symbol on the outer wall above the door painted in silver that reflected the sunlight and looked almost like real silver. Like the college itself, it was just odd. As far as Steve could tell it didn’t have many members, only four, as far as he’d counted, would walk around in blazing orange letterman jackets with that emblem stitched into the back and a smaller one on the front right breast. He didn’t know what majors they took, probably all on sports scholarships with how stacked a couple of them looked, and one liked to hang around the library. Always in sunglasses even indoors, tight jeans to combat the slightly too big jacket. Blonde hair shaved at the sides but longer on top, not wildly long but just enough for natural loose curls to develop.

Not that Steve had been looking at how handsome he was at all.

Thinking about it, he seemed to always be around when the odd things happened. When there would suddenly be a spare chair even though all the tables were packed with other students trying to do their work, a fresh stack of post it notes in Steve’s bag when he needed to write an annotation down quickly, a newly sharpened pencil just happening to be on the floor by his feet when he’d lost his before class. The rain suddenly starting as soon as Steve got into a building when he’d forgotten an umbrella like it was waiting for him to be safe and dry.

There was just something weird about the whole thing. Not enough for him to freak out and want to go home though, no way. He could deal with weird and slightly odd far better than being stuck in a town going nowhere, where his only future was getting a job in his father’s company and a wife he didn’t love, cranking out a couple kids after a year of so and slowly but surely morphing into a mirror image of the man he lowkey despised.

Even the thought of that was horrifying. It was bad enough that genetically they might look similar one day. Hopefully many, many years in the future. When plastic surgery was cheap.

The library was quiet when Steve entered. Of course it was, it was a Friday night. There were a number of parties and gatherings happening all over the place, but this week he’d promised himself to be good. Study now and party later. He’d been invited to a glow paint, totally-not-a-rave party happening just outside of town that he was pretty excited for. He’d been focusing hard on his studies so it was time to let off some steam. And maybe that steam had been building for quite some time cause ol’ Lefty wasn’t doing the trick anymore, mashing his face into a pillow in the dead of night, furiously jacking off under a blanket and praying his roommate didn’t wake up or come back soon. And, maybe sometimes, Steve thought about that cute blonde in the Omega House jacket and how good it would be to see those thick lips all slick and swollen wrapped around his cock. Really those thoughts were just between him and God, who he hoped wasn’t paying attention most of the time he was alone in his room.

Steve found the spot he liked, towards the back facing towards the window where he couldn’t be distracted by people walking in, and pulled his laptop and the well annotated copy of Dracula he was working from. His half finished essay sat on the screen, cursor blinking at him accusingly, demandingly even. He sighed at it and opened up to the page he was last working from when the chair next to him was pulled out. Not even one or two over, obeying the unspoken rule of the Personal Study Bubble. No, the very next chair. Steve could see orange reflected on his screen. He frowned slightly and turned to just give a passing glance, hoping for a the fuck? expression, when he saw staggeringly blue eyes staring back, nestled into tan freckled skin, natural curls just reaching down into the field of view. The regular sunglasses had been tucked up into the neck of a black tee. The back of Steve’s neck felt instantly hot as he looked away, hoping for a moment he hadn’t been seen, but that was impossible. He was right there.

“Hey, haven’t seen you around before. Must be in the same class though.” His voice was deep and Steve felt his legs turn a little bit to jello. He chanced another glance and saw the guy was holding a copy of Dracula too. Steve wasn’t sure he’d been holding it before… 

“Well, I attend almost every lecture…”

“You must do if you’re in here by yourself on a Friday,” the guy smiled. It didn’t look cruel, neither did it sound like he was making fun. This was already confusing, and Steve wasn’t the greatest with people at the best of times, let alone he around guys he thought were kind of stupidly handsome from afar, and apparently just stunning close up.

Steve just nodded and shifted in his seat slightly since this guy clearly wasn’t going to go away any time soon. He didn’t have anything on the table in front of him, didn’t even look like he had a backpack for the potential of anything. The odd feeling was definitely strong and getting stronger. “Can I… can I help you with something?”

“That depends,” the book was quickly tossed aside and the guy nudged closer with his chair, Steve could smell his cologne. It didn’t smell like anything he’d tried before. It was floral but dark and spicy, but also fruity too. Slightly burnt lemon and vanilla loaf? His hand wrapped easily around Steve’s freer one. His skin was warm, a little rough maybe from weightlifting which he clearly did, applying a comforting amount of pressure. Steve couldn’t help the skin on his arm breaking out in goose pimples. He glanced at their hands together and his throat felt impossibly tight. “I’m Billy by the way.”

“Steve...”

“Great. So, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things can be a little, strange around here-”

Steve glanced at their hands again, felt that blue steel bore into his eyes and further back. “Oh they’re strange alright…”

“You ever wondered why?” This guy, Billy, grinned something devilish and let Steve’s hand go only to put it on his knee, squeezing firm but not unpleasant. Steve was sure he was starting to sweat under the attention of all this. Yeah he had fooled around with a couple guys drunk at parties, stumbled into a dorm room or two he didn’t recognise to have some fun and wake up with carpet burns over his back and his knees, but this felt very direct. Especially when Billy’s hand started slowly drifting higher. Steve couldn’t even say he didn’t want it, he’d been staring at this guy from a distance for months now, but to have him suddenly be right in front and touching with obvious intent. It was something else.

“Uh, n-not really. Sometimes maybe?”

Billy’s eyes turned from cool to blazingly erotic in an instant, for just a moment, then back to cool again. He nudged even closer into Steve’s bubble, who was more helpless than a fish on dry land at this moment. 

“Would you like to know why?” The way Billy’s tongue licked over the L was something filthy. If Steve had been set jello before he was now quickly melting into a sweet pool of tangy cherry. “My friends and I can show you.”

Steve felt like he was drowning. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening. But still BIlly’s firm hand crept ever higher until he was practically cupping Steve through his jeans, inching closer until their lips were connected in the middle of the library. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed. He was already boiling alive in his skin from all the attention and Billy’s lips weren’t helping. They were as plush as Steve had imagined. Maybe not in the right area just yet but with the way Billy was pushing his palm directly against Steve’s slowly awakening dick they just might be soon.

He was half hard when Billy pulled away, flushed bright red like he’d been sunburnt.

“Come by the house tomorrow night, you’ll see. We promise you’ll enjoy it.” 

With that, Billy winked, slipped his sunglasses back on and left. Steve blinked at nothing for a long time, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened to him.

Did… did he just get invited to an orgy?

He packed up quickly and went back to his dorm, there was no way any studying was going to happen now. It didn’t happen throughout all of Saturday either. Just the memory of the whole short incident rolling around and around in Steve’s mind, of Billy’s words dripping from those lips and the feel of his hand pressing just right.

He’d definitely gotten invited to an orgy.

He lay on his bed for a while just thinking, tapping his forefingers together as something for them to do. Steve was kind of flattered really, he knew he was nice looking, but there were far better looking guys on campus, and from the stories he’d heard they’d probably be up for it no questions asked. It also popped into his head that the guys he’d seen wearing the orange Omega jackets were a lot more jacked than he was, and Steve had seen enough porn to know what that probably meant. A part of him knew this was utterly insane. Shit like this didn’t happen without a bored camera crew and fourteen different close up angles.

But then maybe it did happen. He was from a small town after all. He was pretty sure his neighbours three doors down were swingers from all the cars that would suddenly appear once a month for just a night. Least that was the rumor that he may or may not have pushed a couple times. And, afterall, wasn’t this what college was about? Being out there and experimenting with crazy shit you wouldn’t do in the real world. He’d taken ecstasy in his first few weeks at a warehouse party, he had no desire to do that back home.

So, maybe he was warming up to the idea of being a bottom at an orgy party being held in the weird grey frat house. Who was anyone to judge? Steve just wasn’t going to tell anyone about it, that’s all.

He felt nervous standing on the front steps of the Omega House. All the blinds were drawn inside. He didn’t know what to bring, what was customary? It didn’t feel right to bring, like, snacks, so he’d just brought himself, already flushing and trying not to get hard by just the thought of Billy getting his hands on him again, how good he must look naked and sweating, finding out what those lips could really do.

The man himself answered the door after two sharp knocks. The grin he wore was sinful, eyes wild and excited, grip firm as he pulled Steve easily inside the dark room. Steve wasn’t sure what to expect, but low mood lighting, a coffee table in the middle of three couches covered in books and blank papers, and every other surface holding up thick lit candles dripping with wax wasn’t it. It also appeared to be just the two of them.

It wasn’t entirely what he had signed up for. But Steve wasn’t exactly complaining.

“Man, am I happy you actually came,” Billy started, pulling his letterman off and hanging it over the banister like a coat hook. His black tee had the sleeves ripped off, his arms were nothing short of statue worthy. He ruffled his hair a little, the curls bobbing just so. They looked delightfully soft. “The rest of the guys are at some sorority bullshit, but they’ll be here later.”

“Uh, o-okay, cool.” Steve tried to sound confident as he went to go take a seat on one of the couches. Billy sat next to him, up close and personal again and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was radiating body heat which Steve wanted to eat up greedily. He noticed some of the books on the table. A copy of Frankenstein, a very old looking copy of Dracula, maybe second edition, a copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and copies of both Malleus Maleficarum and A Guide to Modern Witchcraft. Those titles mixed with all the candles and the mood lighting and Billy’s staring and frankly demonic grin led Steve down the path that seemed the most obvious to him.

This was a sex cult house. And it was about to get all Rosemary’s Baby up in here.

Billy’s hand was back on his thigh again, heavy and pressing, taking Steve out of his deep barrel of thoughts. The grin was back on his tanned features. “You look nervous.” He gave Steve’s thigh a squeeze. Even though he had no idea what was going on it still made his cock jump alert in his jeans.

“Well, I’ve never exactly been to… one of these before…”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed together a little, he still wore a smile though. It suited his face. “One of what?”

“You know...?” Steve rolled his hands as his face turned ever redder. He was sure it could almost be seen from space. He wasn’t a prude by any means, but growing up in quite a strict household meant he just struggled saying some things out loud. So he whispered it instead. “...an orgy?”

Billy stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter that wasn’t at all humiliating. He must have sensed Steve’s rapidly growing discomfort and indignity because the laughter quickly died and turned more into gentle questioning. “Did you think that was what this was gonna be?”

“Well I don’t know what else this would be!” Steve spat out in frustration. He hated not knowing the whole story and here he felt he barely even knew the first line of the novel. Billy smiled warm like a summer day and cupped his cheek. He felt instantly calmed, being swallowed up by those cool blues like a gentle river on an August afternoon.  “I said I’d explain about all the odd things that happen around campus. They’re from us in this house. We’re kind of, different.”

“Different how?”

Billy took his hand back and snapped his fingers loud and piercing. All the candles extinguished themselves at once. Not a breeze to be felt. It wasn’t scary, or spooky, but it was pretty cool. “Different different. You’re the only person who’s seemed to notice. And, by house law, that means you get initiated. You get to know that we’re all witches.”

The word hung in the air and seemed ridiculous. But, at the same time, it didn’t. It did certainly explain how chargers and post its and pencils would suddenly just appear whenever Steve needed them. He still wasn’t completely convinced though.

“Witches?” He repeated back carefully, just in case he’d heard that wrong too. Billy nodded and clapped his hands. Every candle reignited themselves, flickering back to life one by one in a circle around the room. A bottle of whiskey and cans of coke appeared on the table where there had been just papers before. The books remained. There was a proud look on his face. Short of being drugged at the door and this all being a crazy fever dream, this was definitely real. Steve didn’t really have any reason to not believe his eyes and what was happening around him. Billy didn’t look like David Copperfield that was for sure. “So, not an orgy?”

“No. Not an orgy.” Billy chuckled and repeated back. He must have seen Steve’s face go from confused to understanding to a little disappointed all within the space of a few seconds because his hand was high on Steve’s thigh again. Maybe the guy just didn’t understand personal space? That seemed growingly likely. “I don’t think I’d wanna share you anyway.”

Steve felt the flush on his face again, but he grinned through it this time. Weird, spooky, otherworldly shit could be saved for later if there was even a chance of getting what he’d been thinking alone in his bed. “But you’d wanna maybe...?”

He let the question stay floating between them as Billy smirked lewd and pressed himself up against Steve’s body. “Bet you’d love to find out what I can do with my fingers pretty boy…”

Oh, Steve really would.

[nekomapi]

chp 1 🎶 a light in your eyes that keeps shining

Shouto stared at the keys in front of him; the black and white rectangles blurred together as he spaced out. He had been running this piece all afternoon and he couldn't be more bored with it if he tried. Each time sounded just as good as the last, but he kept on practicing- leaving no room for the possibility of error. Less errors meant less scolding from his father.

His instructor didn't have any clients this afternoon and told him he could use the piano for as long as he wanted. He took lessons here twice a week when his father had other obligations and couldn't supervise, which also meant he never had much time for himself. Luckily, these two days were such a breath of fresh air from the usual routine that he always looked forward to them.

He let out a heavy sigh as he stretched his fingers and his arms. It was so peaceful; the warm sunlight pouring through the windows, golden hues illuminating the shiny surface of the grand piano. The whole room bathed in incredible warmth, something his house felt completely devoid of.

He couldn't remember how long he had been sitting there, but it felt like hours. He yawned as he glanced at the clock, his eyes slowly trailing over to the mahogany drum set that stared at him from the corner of the room. He had looked at it longingly for about 6 months, ever since he started his lessons here. There were so many different components and they seemed so complex, like a different world he was unaware of.

His curiosity itched to no end and he finally gathered the courage to walk over to it, grazing the drumhead with his fingers as he sat on the stool. His teacher had gone on an errand and he knew she wouldn't be back for a little while. Picking up the black wooden drumsticks, he started tapping gently on each piece to test the different noises they each made. After a few minutes of self-containment, he couldn’t help but let loose. He banged the different sized drums, smashed the symbols and kicked the bass pedal intermittently, with no direction and no sheet music to follow along with. It was the most exhilarated he had felt in a long time. He played with such enthusiasm that sweat started to accumulate on his brow as he lashed about without a care in the world. He didn't notice this rarity himself, but throughout his messy performance, his face was plastered with a playful grin. His focus shifted upwards as his eye caught a glimpse of a figure and he jumped up, almost tripping over the bass drum. A young girl was leaning in the doorway, her arms crossed and a smirk playing at her features. She couldn't help but find his clumsiness amusing.

Locking on her gaze, he instantly recognized her from the family photos on his teacher's desk. It was her daughter and he didn't know much about her, besides the few details she had mentioned to him in the past. Apparently she was exceptionally talented in multiple instruments and attended a very esteemed music academy in the city. The way she always beamed when she spoke of her, made it obvious how proud she was, and that shamefully always stung him. The only pride ever displayed from his father never felt out of love and his mother, well she was a different story.

"I... I'm sorry I uh...shouldn't have-"

She interrupted mid-sentence, holding up her hand and walking towards him, "Don't apologize! I'm the one who should apologize for startling you during your performance." She smiled and jokingly added," I'm going to guess that was your first time playing? If not, well then my mother might have lost her touch."

"That was the first time." He stood up straighter, trying to play off his embarrassment by transitioning into his usual stoic gaze. "I was just... curious is all."

"Ah. Well I have to say, you look good back there."

"Thanks," he mumbled, his cheeks feeling hot as he put down the drumsticks and started to back away from the drum set.

"Whoa, not so fast." She was at his side quickly and pushed him back towards the seat. He looked at her, confusion written on his face as he sat back down. She picked up the drumsticks, effortlessly twirling one around in her fingers. "Consider this your first lesson." Something about her made him feel at ease and he couldn't think of an excuse to refuse. He nodded in agreement and she grinned.

She didn't waste any time before naming each component and explaining the proper technique and form, including fixing the way he held the drumsticks. He admired how she spoke with such emotion, using her hands when trying to emphasize her opinion and the way her eyes lit up when she rambled on about what aspects she thought were the most important in order to be a good musician. It wasn't just her bright green eyes or that faint smell of gardenia that reminded him of her mother, but it was that burning passion towards music which was so evident in their words and motions. He longed to have that kind of burning emotion towards it as well. He soaked in every word, not wanting to forget a single thing she said--- or how her hair glistened against her smooth, freckled skin.

After going over the basics for about twenty minutes, she demonstrated a few basic drum beats. Once she ran through them a few times, she handed him back the drumsticks, gesturing for him to try. He followed her instruction, recreating the beat under her guidance. It wasn't hard for him to catch on. She stood back and watched as he seemed to effortlessly repeated the sample over and over, even adding in little changes while increasing the tempo each time. It was wildly impressive and after a few minutes, she spoke again. "Can I ask you something?'

"Go ahead," he responded, still focused on keeping a beat.

"Do you actually enjoy playing piano?"

He stopped and turned to face her. "What makes you ask that?"

"Well, I heard you playing Einaudi earlier, many times through I might add. And don’t get me wrong... you play wonderfully! Probably with some of the best form I've ever heard from someone our age. It's just... it sounded a bit— robotic, or like it wasn’t coming from the heart." She pushed herself off the wall and walked to the other side of the drum set. "Listening to you play just now, and before when I came in and interrupted you, something just feels different. It's like I could finally hear you in it."

"But you've only just met me..." he stated bluntly. "How could you know something like that?" There was no doubt that he was experiencing a bit of freedom in himself today, but her analysis suddenly had him feeling a little exposed and embarrassed. These unexpected emotions were new to him.

"I'm sorry... it was just a feeling I had. I didn't mean to pry." She fell silent for a moment, having felt slightly bad for how he reacted. She chuckled in hopes to lighten the mood. "I guess with that rad hair you just totally have that whole badass drummer vibe going on." She leaned back, framing his face with her fingers and staring at him through the opening. "I mean, who wouldn't want to be the next John Bonham."

"John Bonham?"

She gestured towards a framed record on the wall behind him, feeling thankful to change the subject. "Only one of the best drummers to ever grace the face of the earth." She walked over to her backpack and pulled out her phone, unraveling the headphones wrapped around it. She tapped on the screen a few times and then handed it over to him.

His tone was quizzical as he read off the name, "Fool in the Rain by ...Led Zeppelin?"

"Have you really never heard of them?"

Shouto shook his head and her mouth dropped.

"Alright well... take it all in buddy," she motioned towards the ear buds.

He put them in his ears, pressed play and stared down at the phone as the song started. It didn’t take long for him to be hooked, zoning in on the drums and how they effortlessly worked with the other instruments to form the melody. His head started to move with the beat, following along with its rhythm. He could identify the specific sounds of each component he had learned. It's like something clicked and he understood when she had said that a good drummer can make all the difference to how the song comes together. It was the first time he had actually "heard" a piece of music. Don't get him wrong, he knew the piano could be an incredibly moving instrument, but nothing had ever spoken to him personally like this. The song was about halfway through when it suddenly paused.

"Uh, someone named ... Boomer is calling." He handed her the phone.

"Oh!" she said, glancing up at the clock as she scrambled to answer.

‘What kind of name is Boomer?’ he thought.

"Hey! Sorry if you've been waiting, I lost track of time. I'll head over n--- ....I SAID I WAS SORRY....... It's none of your business ya punk! Just chill out, I'll be there soon!" She groaned in annoyance and ended the call, "I gotta go."

She walked to where a few guitars hung on the wall and took down a black and white Gibson, placing it in the case that was on the floor beneath it.

"You play guitar too?" Shouto asked. He wasn't really surprised as his teacher had already told him in the past that she played multiple instruments. He didn't know why but for some reason he wanted to continue being in her company for just a little longer.

"Among other things, yeah. I get bored if I stick to one thing for too long."

"Dividing your efforts into multiple instruments has to make mastering one pretty difficult," he stated matter of factly.

"I think you and I may look at music a little differently. I don't play an instrument with the need to master it. I play because of how it makes me feel. I let the instrument guide me where it needs to go, not the other way around. I guess, I just don't see the point in doing something if it doesn't set my soul on fire, ya know?" She zipped up the guitar bag and walked back towards him, holding out her hand. "I'm Ronnie by the way."

He walked around the drum set and shook it. "Todoroki, Shouto." She was staring at him intensely, making him shift uncomfortably. "What is it?" he asked a bit harshly, feeling conscious about his scar.

"Oh! Sorry- ha! I was just admiring that rockstar hair of yours again." She flashed him a rock and roll sign, though he didn't understand the gesture. It wasn't just the hair that had her mesmerized, but the smooth, burned skin around his eye. She felt sad that she found it so beautiful, without knowing what kind of pain was behind it.

"Thanks? I guess." He looked away, putting his hands in his pockets.

She smiled. "It kind of reminds me of Christmas morning." He looked back at her, his cheeks feeling warm again.

"Well, I guess I'll see ya around, Shouto."

His mouth went a bit dry at the familiarity and he nodded. "Yeah. See ya."

She turned and walked out of the room. He listened as the front door opened, feeling an odd knot in his stomach as it closed. He grasped at the sensation over his shirt and went over to sit back down at the piano. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly this feeling was, but it had made him feel SOMETHING, so he relished in it. Grabbing his phone from out of his pocket, he opened up Apple Music and typed in a song. He closed his eyes, his lips twitching up slightly as "Fool in the Rain" started to play through the speakers.

_________________________

♫ music selection ♫

Ludovico Einaudi - Nuvole Bianche

Led Zeppelin - Fool in the Rain

this was the first chapter of my abandoned BNHA music AU (+ a few HQ!! crossovers)... but i think it works as a cute standalone piece. recently been debating on resurrecting this fic or just using the existing material for hcs or scenarios... hmmm 🤔

xo n.pi

[theshinsun]

brace urself, this is for the writing meta ask: 2, 6, 7, 14, 17, 19, 20 (if you need a direction for this... I always wanted to hear more about Bring Me Roses), 21, 22, and 24 bc i'm nosy and still very into your craft. thank you buddy!!

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I'm so excited/terrified to finally start my knb college AU. I've been sitting on this idea for almost two years I'm so ready but at the same time I'm so not ready.

The gist is it's every single self-indulgent, chaotic, projection-ridden idea I've ever wanted for these boys all rolled in a big ball of shenanigans and character growth. It's a beautiful mess and I can't wait to make it happen as soon as ANR is done.

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

This is gonna come right the fuck out of left field, but I love writing Himuro. I have so much fun writing just... snark, and that boy is the perfect outlet, there's no bottom to that salt mine. I remember getting a similar kick out of writing Tsukishima in the past, I just live for sassy dialogue. It ain't much but it's honest work.

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

My style is very present, I think (which is funny bc there was a time I never would have considered writing present tense) focusing on what's happening and how it makes the character feel in the moment. I like to write specific, detailed imagery, but I try to keep it short and relevant to the scene, so I can move along and focus on what's important. I wouldn't call it fast-paced, exactly, but it is pretty to-the-point. And I think, based on the feedback I've received, that people who read my fics might agree with that. I've heard that my writing is very personal and character-driven, and I think that might be a byproduct of the time I spent writing in first person. Now I write almost exclusively third person limited, but I still like to get in the character's head and tell the story from their "point of view", I guess. 

14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

It depends almost entirely on how quick I'm able to come up with a pun lol. Sometimes a fic has a title before I've even written the first sentence, sometimes I have to scramble for something, anything in the last few seconds before I publish it. A lot of the time I'll have a working title like "that one really fucked up aokaga oneshot" for pretty much the duration of writing a new fic… and a lot of the time I'll end up using song titles, even though we're past the days of writing songfics. 

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

I think, to a degree, people get different things from my writing than I intended -- which is good! The way a piece of writing can be interpreted completely differently depending on who's reading it is one of the best things about being a writer tbh. I think people might be surprised, though, how different my fics often turn out from how I set out to make them. These days I've usually got a pretty detailed outline for what's going to happen, but even with all the preparation in the world, sometimes a fic will take a sudden detour I didn't expect, or something I wrote before will take on new meaning and change the direction I meant to go in. This definitely happens more with my longer fics, but there are times even with oneshots where I look back at what I set out to write, and what I ended up writing, and they're completely different.

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

I tend to write a lot of scenes with characters talking while in the car (cars are an intentional motif in ANR, but in something like GWGE there's not actually a lot of narrative purpose to this) I don't know why, maybe because it's a convenient way to have characters talk one-on-one, or maybe it's because I've had a lot of meaningful conversations while riding passenger, couldn't tell you, but it's cropped up more than once in my current fics and will probably feature in some of my upcoming ones (the college AU strikes me as a likely candidate), and I think it's worth taking note of.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

SINCE you mentioned Bring Me Roses, and I never really get to talk about it, pls allow me to go on a lengthy tangent about my most underrated fic of all time. (Like 90% of the reason it's still incomplete almost two years later is because the response when I posted it was so underwhelming, but I still stand by it. Someday I'll finish it, hopefully, if just for myself.) 

I'm so fucking proud of the language in this one. It's not perfect, by any means, but the imagery in my opinion is very strong, and almost every line of dialogue is saying something without really saying it. There are frequent allusions that something happened to Aomine's mother, relatively recently, and that Momoi is worried about him overworking out of grief or guilt, but none of those things are ever actually stated. There's also some pretty heavy implicit flirting between Aomine and Kuroko, even if it's a bit unusual and they're both playing it coy at this stage, the chemistry is there and the interest is mutual. And of course, because it's a florist AU, the flower symbolism… I spent so long researching bouquets, plant husbandry, how to prep and preserve cut flowers, and of course… flower meanings. The main ones that keep getting brought up are dahlias, which have just as many negative connotations as positive ones, including betrayal and instability, but also dignity, creativity and change, and come in a variety of colors shapes and even sizes (Islander or "dinnerplate" dahlias were definitely going to feature in part 2… as well as the connection between them and Aomine's mother). I know a lot of these things might not hit as hard because there's no actual payoff (yet), but still, in terms of "show don't tell" and setting up things to come, I don't think I have a single better example in my fic repertoire, I really went all out with this.

It's a shame I never got to follow through, but I got the impression that there just wasn't a lot of interest, and even if that alone is kind of a dumb reason not to continue, after I worked so hard to pull off what I did, the lack of response really killed my motivation. (I wonder sometimes if it would've been better received if it was an AoKaga fic… actually, I don't need to wonder, I'm sure it would have been, but that's not the story I set out to tell and I'm not going to change it.)

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)

Oh, I'd love to do some of my fics as comics. I even tried it at one point; GWGE was going to be a comic originally, before I decided a multichapter fic would probably be less exhausting (the first couple pages are still floating around in my art tag somewhere, though this was back in high school so the quality is… heh).

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

Yeah… I reread a lot. Usually while I'm working on a new chapter, I'll go over the ones that lead up to it to make sure I don't repeat the same phrases too much and that the continuity lines up, and I'll also admit to going back and just reading my own fics for fun. Sometimes the only one who's written exactly what I want to see is me. 

How I feel about them depends on the fic… some of my older ones are a mix of nostalgia and cringe tbh, but there are some I still genuinely enjoy revisiting from time to time. 

24. Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Oh hell yeah. For… better and worse, honestly. I feel like I've lost some fluidity and confidence in my writing, and it sometimes turns kind of stilted, so I try to overcompensate which results in pretty jarring changes of tone, but at the same time, I've gotten much better with rhythm and syntax, my grammar skills are always improving, and I'm able to incorporate a lot more intentional meaning and subtext without always stating things outright.

[reprobateubeg4]

“I'm a bonfire with kerosene

And I need a miracle to save me”

https://open.spotify.com/track/6RaviZhknltN5z67JMATHH?si=HGAx-htqQHKRDKMyRDQjwA

[I barricaded myself in my apartment. Every piece of furniture blocked a door. My windows were boarded. My bed flipped to block out the window. Space cleared with only wood paneling of the floor bared as everything else was shoved to the edges of my room and the spare room. My living room now looked like something out of a spell book as I drew the symbols from the various family ritual books left to me. I followed with the alignment of candles. So much work to do. So many tracks to cover up. So many of my own ties to break in order to protect the lines that remained. I could still hear the panicked voices and screams echoing in my head from the graveyard. After tonight those voices wouldn’t exist. A part of me was relieved but another part of me knew what it would mean. The whispers of encouragement would be gone. Only my own voice would remain. No more hearing grandmama cheering me on. I finished the last symbol and took in a shaky breath. I turned the pages and brushed my hair back in frustration.]

Ceremonial knives…. I don’t fucking have the ceremonial knives!

[Both hands combed through my hair and tugged at the loose strands as I shouted out to whatever voice would answer.]

What do I do?

[“You’re stalling. It says knife. It does not have to be ceremonial. Didn’t we teach you better than that?” I heard my Aunt Roma and shook my head. “I know this is hard. You’re not the only one of the Badi bloodline who has had to hide the line.” I took a deep breath.]

Doesn’t make it easier.

[“Nope, but think of it as a compliment. Only the strongest are trusted with the knowledge you have. You’ve had us all this time and now you don’t need us. Not really. Once the ties are breaking the gypsy hunter won’t have anything to find. There will be nothing to find of you. He will find my children but we both know none of them believe the existence of magic or followed the rituals of practicing it. It’s all you kid. Suck it buttercup. Longer you take the quicker the gypsy hunter can find you. Do you understand what you’re doing?” I nodded.]

No pressure or anything. Yeah I think so. I’m eliminating my past and burning the shadows that exist. And it’ll burn away the ties to family.

[“Yup. See you got this. Grandmama says she is proud of you.” Those last words broke me. I lost what little composure I had left. My hand moved to my mouth to cover as I tried to catch myself. I took a deep, struggling breath and wiped the tears from my cheeks.]

Right. Let’s do this.

[I pulled my butterfly knife from my purse and flipped it out to prepare it before lighting the candles around me. Every light in the apartment was off. Only dim light flickered from the candles. I sat cross legged in the middle of the circle of candles. I read the inscription and started tracing straight lines with the blade down my arms, watching as the blood pooled like branches like trees over my veins. I continued in Romanian. As shadowed versions of myself appeared of myself. The first shadow was sent to Aunt Roma’s where pictures were thrown to the center of the house, the home was searched for the box of knives, or any other remnants of me before the shadow went to the barn to grab the container of Kerosene. The shadow poured the kerosene all over the pictures and albums and itself before lighting a match and dropping it. The flames grew high. I felt the heat along my skin. I fought back the scream as the flames rushed up my arm with smoke leaving my Unscorched skin. The Second Shadow arrived at my childhood home and did the same. Every picture, toy, my bedroom, memory, all trashed, thrown, soaked in Kerosene and lit aflame, along with the shadow of myself. Another scream I fought back as the flames were felt up moving up my arms but only smoke was seen along unscorched skin. The last shadow of me was the hardest to let go. I broke down with tears streaking my face as I watched the child sized version of myself skip off to what was left of grandmama’s house and the items my mother kept from me. The last of my family connection. The last of what family I considered blood. My body shook as I felt the air knock out of me in a hard sweep. The flames consumed in a heavy full body pain. My body stretched and back arched and muscles tightened as the pain intensified. Heavy fisted pounding hit against the door. “KENZI! KENZI!! OPEN THIS DOOR!! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” I heard Detective Dick’s voice on the other side of the door. I heard the crack of the door and saw a flash of light move over my eyes. “What the fuck, Kenzi?! Call 911, tell them we have someone having a seizure! Kenzi! Can you hear me?”]

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

(Vol. XXX)

It was a love story from the very beginning.

I'll go with you

(7x21/7x23)

Hello my friends! Ready for this last meta from season 7??

We are going to talk about Crazy!Cas a lot (as you know, he wasn't crazy at all...) And the last episode, so much Destiel material...

I want to mention my dear friend @agusvedder here, she made the gifs for this Chronicle and discussed with me the episodes, thank you girl! 😘💕

I'll stop with the cháchara here, let's start this!

Dean get disappointed when he sees Cas seems Crazy, but he's not

I'll talk about another jewel in symbolism, by Edlund, episode 7x21 Reading is Fundamental.

Well, we have a whole and sad situation when Dean and Sam met Cas at the Mental Hospital.

First impression, Dean heard the "Hello, Dean" and his heart eyes are displayed immediately, he also compliments him...

CASTIEL: Hello, Dean. Sam.

SAM: Hey, Castiel.

DEAN: Look at you, walkin' and talkin'. That's – that's great, right?

When Dean sees Castiel's behavior is not the same as always, his attitude with him changes.

After this, we heard Cas saying this...

DEAN: Okay, just hang on, Cas. Wait. Let us catch up to you for a second.

SAM: So, you're saying you remember who you are, what you are.

CASTIEL: Yes. Of course. Oh. Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add.

When Sam asked if he remembered who he was, Castiel quickined his words, and changed the subject, to a totally different issue... Bees.

And this could sound like words coming from a lunatic, but if we dig on his words, we we'll find out why Crazy! Cas wasn't crazy at all...

When he's talking about bees, he's talking about a community, perfectly assembled to fill with one plan. Here, Cas is symbolizing his own community, the angels, with a melancholic tone. The plan was perfect: protect Humanity. There was nothing to add to that. But there's guilt in these words too. Because he felt he failed too, when he was Godstiel, he killed innocent people and angels. So he followed that bee, and found what his own idea about what he should be, what Heaven should be. Like an Utopia.

Each time they were trying to make Castiel to talk about the problem, and the tablet, or the past, Castiel switched to another topic, the crazy not so crazy topic . And if you pay attention, it was Sam the one that always tried to get from him some info.

SAM: Yeah, yeah. You – you said something about "The Word." Is that what's written on there?

(Sam presents the problem...)

CASTIEL: Did you know that a cat's penis is sharply barbed along its shaft? I know for a fact the females were not consulted about that.

DEAN: Cas, please, we're losing ground out there, okay? We need your help. Can you not see that?

Why is Cas mentioning that thing about cats?

Because he's grieving about the creation not being perfect. Even the cat, when he wants to copulate with the female, (even if he loves humanity) he finished hurting the female cat, because it wasn't perfect, and no one asked the female cat. He hurted humanity, he hurted Dean, he hurted badly Sam, that's why he's avoiding talking about it. He doesn't want conflicts anymore, he's closed, inside himself, his thoughts, his melancholy...

And what about Dean? Dean is trying to push him back with him, he needs his Cas, the soldier, their friend and protector. Is very frustrating for him to see Cas like this.

Playing I'm sorry

When Dean found Cas in the kitchen, this dialogue is developed...

DEAN: You realize you just broke God's Word?

It's Sam's thing, isn't it? You taking on his, uh, cage-match scars. I'm guessing that's what broke your bank, right?

CASTIEL: Well, it took... everything to get me here.

DEAN: What are you talking about, man?

Dean is trying to understand why Cas is behaving like this, and that quote coming from Castiel is just... Ugh, he's suffering so much... It took ... Everything ... Castiel lost everything, and now he's there... Trying to apologize with Dean. He's ashamed, but he's understanding the imperfection of the mission, the plan, Heaven's duty. He's there, vulnerable, to show Dean he really sorry. But he's too ashamed to do it directly... So... When Dean tried again to make him remember the painful past... Cas has to do something...

CASTIEL: Dean, I know you want different answers.

DEAN: No, I want you to button up your coat and help us take down Leviathans. (Again Dean is trying to drag him back. He misses his angel.)

But then this ...

Okay... Exactly and immediately after Dean asks that question, Cas showed him the game SORRY, because he meant it. He's depressed because he failed Dean... And I want to point right here the colors on that box... There's a piece in Red (representing Dean, but a violent and angry one) and Blue (representing Cas).

CASTIEL: We live in a "sorry" universe. It's engineered to create conflict. 

Cas is saying here... Everyone makes mistakes... I made a mistake with you.

Because then, he mentioned...

why should I prosper from... your misfortune? 

Castiel is trying to ask for forgiveness, but he's throwing excuses "because the rules in this world are like this... People makes mistakes."

And he moves the blue piece there... Through the green path, but Dean is stuck in the red home there... Because Dean doesn't want to release him from that guilt, not yet You made some of them. When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall.

Gah! Painful memory! Better change topic again...

CASTIEL: Dean... it's your move.

Okay, here we have a raged Dean throwing the

Game out of the table, he's done with Castiel's avoidance. Or craziness, or wherever, is so frustrating for him. They can finally talk about what happened, about their break up, and Cas is talking weird things.

DEAN: Forget the damn game! Forget the game, Cas.

CASTIEL: I'm sorry, Dean.

DEAN: No. You're playing "Sorry!"

Is so so painful, Because Cas is trying hard, but his shame is huge, for the first time he doesn't know how to talk frankly in front of Dean. And Dean's interpretation about the whole thing was CAS IS PLAYING WITH ME. My Destiel heart is crying...

Castiel was Severely depressed

After facing Dean, trying to fix things, and failing, Castiel had to face Hester and Inias, par of his old Garrison.

Avoiding again the horrible things he did when Hester exposed the slaughter in Heaven.

When they were in the car, Cas called Meg.

MEG: Yeah. Yeah, Castiel. It's me.

DEAN: Cas? Where? Where is he?

Dean is worried about Castiel because when he made that sigil, not just Hester and Inias, but Cas were vanished. So yeah, he's worried.

Once inside the car, Castiel explained that was his Garrison.

CASTIEL: . I was their captain. Isn't that strange?

He was proud of that, but now he felt himself so weak and useless, than he thinks is strange he was once their captain. He's feeling pity for himself. He's depressed.

SAM: Cas, why are they pissed at us now?

And here we go again with the avoidance...

CASTIEL: [to MEG] You know, those racing dogs were absolutely miserable. They can only think in ovals.

Remember Meg said by the phone they were sad dogs because they were hunting a fake rabbit? Well... That had to hit in Castiel's head... Was like how he felt right now, he was racing behind a fake misión This whole time.

And Dean gets mad again...

DEAN: Cas, don't make me pull this car over! Why are angels after us?

CASTIEL: Are you angry? Why are you angry?

DEAN: No, I-I'm... Please, can we just stay on target?

CASTIEL: There is no reason for anger.

Castiel can't endure Dean is angry with him. He can't handle that.

Look at Castiel's face when he's rejecting fight. He said "I watch the bees" as he's trying to convince himself of that. This is my decision, I screwed things up, I killed my brothers and innocent humans I should be protecting, I hurted Sam and Dean will never forgive me. No. I don't have a reason to fight. I watch the bees now.

Once in Rufus cabin, there's a dialogue between Sam and Cas super fascinating. I won't put that here, because is gonna be very large, but the fact you have to have here is their relationship changed for good, it become more profound, and because they shared their fears, they'll grew in acceptance and confidence. If you want to read more about Cas and Sam relationship, I wrote a meta time ago, and I mentioned this scene. Link is here.

Okay, let's move now...

There was a dialogue between Dean and Kevin, and we could see how was Dean feeling about Castiel, his deception...

DEAN: Oh, I don't know, man. What can I say? You've been chosen. And it sucks. Believe me. There's no use asking "why me?" 'Cause the angels – they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care. Seems like when they try, it just... breaks them apart.

So so sad, these words just reflecting how he sees Cas... Like he's mourning his lost again. He has Castiel alive, but he isn't his Cas.

He saw how he broke, just like that time when he broke that angel in the beautiful room.

Is so, so heartbreaking...

Then... Another reason for Castiel's depression, through Meg's words...

MEG: Look, I'm simpler than you think. I've figured one thing out about this world – just one, pretty much. You find a cause, and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life. 

Castiel's cause to fight isn't there anymore, as I said before. He failed in his mission to protect Humanity, and he failed Dean. And he thinks Dean won't never forgive him... So there's no reason to live for him...

And then Hester...

Hester is a thunder in Castiel's head, the whole episode she says things brutally, this quote here, is huge. How can Cas fall in every way imaginable? Is disobedience? Yes. In Sanity? Yes. In Cruelty? Yes. In love? Yes. And the Cause: Dean Winchester.

Look at this scene, is very known in the fandom, but... Hester is talking to Dean...

DEAN: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back off. We're actually trying to clean up one of your angel's messes! You know that.

CASTIEL: He's right. An angel brought the Leviathan back into this world, and – and they begged him. They begged him not to do it.

See how CAS is talking about himself in third person. Avoiding that fact for the shame and guilt he's feeling.

DEAN: Look, just give us some time, okay? We will take care of your Prophet.

Cas is nervous, Dean is frowning, and Inias is looking at Dean with the same disgusting face as Hester. After everything you have taking from us? They lost his Commander, the Great Castiel since they came back from rescue Dean. They lost their leader Because of Dean. The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you I'm Hell he was lost! They blame Dean. They blame the bond between them. Is dirty. Disgusting. Corrupt.

After all this... Cas wanted to die... Really... When Hester had him surrended, on his knees, Cas wanted to die...

Look at Castiel's slight smile there, he thinks his nightmare is gonna finish there... But Meg won't let that happen.

Castiel have a reason to fight again, Because Dean forgives him

In episode 7x23 Survival of the Fittest, there's a comical comment about Cas appearing naked covered in bees in Dean's car... We never saw that idk why... But... Yeah.

But let's talk about this dialogue here (after "He was your boyfriend first" famous quote of Meg)

CASTIEL: Well, Dean, I've been thinking. Monkeys are so... clever, and they're sensible in that they leave the skins on the bananas that they eat. Is it really necessary to test cosmetics on them? I mean, how important is lipstick to you, Dean?

Well... As crazy as this sounds here .. he's talking about humans and Leviathans making test on them, he's worried about humans being eating and tested in experiments by Roman. That's why he decided provide the Winchesters from some info.

But when Dean wants more from him, the avoidance is there again...

DEAN: Um, I'm sorry. If the angels are dead, where's Kevin?

Angels+death...

CASTIEL: I could steal them from their cages, the monkeys. But where would I put them all?

Keep talking about humans, how to save them... Not using force. And Dean gets mad again...

After this, Castiel keeps taking care of the Winchester by cooking for them. How cute .. but Dean wants more from him. He wants him to fight.

They had said goodbye to Bobby again... And Cas watched the whole scene ...

When Dean gave up with that fact, he asked Castiel to fly him back to get Baby.

And we will have this beautiful Destiel scene...

CASTIEL: I'm not good luck, Dean.

DEAN: Yeah, but you know what? Bottom of the ninth, and you're the only guy left on the bench... 

This is a beautiful quote ... Is Dean saying I forgive you, look at his sincere gaze. And Cas... Cas developing instantly, his heart eyes... Because those words warmed his heart, and gave him back his mission. Dean was forgiving him. Finally.

And Dean's face when he sees the response he got from CAS... Those eyes looking back at him with such love. He felt kind of uncomfortable... Maybe because he said too much, he showed too much feelings on it... Maybe because he sounded more than just a friend right there... So the... What? Is a rhetorical question... He knows what.

And the excuse is...

Look at this now... I'll probably die tomorrow, so... Remember when he said Bobby should forgive Rufus? Because when death is in your door you have to have your friends and family with solved issues? Well... He used this excuse... And what he obtained from CAS was his loyalty and love again. His ally, and that surprised Dean. Suddenly, Cas was his Cas again. No more craziness... What happened? What made the difference? Dean's forgiveness and warm words made the difference. Castiel is back.

By the end of the episode, Castiel will be protecting Dean again, putting himself between him and Roman.

To Conclude

Edlund's episode was rich in symbolism and showed us a very depressed Cas, each word that came from his mouth were trying to say something else. He wanted to die because Dean couldn't forgive him and because all the bad things he did when he was Godstiel.

When Dean finally forgives Cas, he returned to live, literally, and had his mission back. These were two very romantic episodes and the subtext was huge.

I hope you like this last one! See you in season 8's Chronicles next week! 😘💕

Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @koshisekisen @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @angelneedshunter @trickster-archangel @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @mishka-the-angel-of-saturday @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname

If you want to be tagged, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous season 7 metas... Here are the links Vol. XXV, XXVI, XXVII, XXVIII, XIX.

Buenos Aires, September 25th 2019 8:12 PM