#why does she have so many names

[corwnvus]

This didn't come out exactly hoe I wanted it but I think it's good enough so have some pandora <3

[mango-mya]

Happy Halloween this is the only thing I'm drawing for today because of skewl!!!

[dickmedowndc]

When You Come Home - Cassandra Cain x Reader

Word Count: 1,748

Summary: You would never trade Cass for anything – even if it meant anxiety when she came home a little rough from patrol or she needed to vanish for a few days at a time for a more complex mission. It never lessened the worry you felt when she walked out the door. So, when she is gone for two weeks longer, you’re almost a wreck. The reprieve comes when she makes it back in the door, after 3 am, only for you to find out she must head out again soon after for another extended trip. But Cass is facing worries of her own.

Notes: Inspired by a “100 kisses” prompt list – number 39: “everything is going to be okay” kisses.

…★…

16 – that was how many days had passed since your girlfriend had been due back. No messages or heads up on a mission extension. Nothing but silence. She always made sure to come by the day after she arrived back in Gotham, or at least got a message to you. 

But this time there was nothing, and the stress was beginning to claw at your skin like a rabid dog. 

You understood, of course, after she had finally told you who she was, that sometimes – most times – if a mission was to go longer than expected, there would be no way for her to tell you. 

It never stopped the worry. 

You had called out of work for the day and the next – too worked up over every possibility that could go wrong. Too scared of what might have happened. And then too scared at the prospect of never finding out at all. 

The day had been spent stress cleaning anything you could get to in the apartment. Furniture rearranged so much so that the resident of the floor below you, an older lady, had come up to ask you to stop. You had only been able to give her a half-hearted apology before closing the door and going back to sweeping the small kitchen. 

The worry must have been written all over your face, because she came back later with a small plate of food wishing you the best. 

Still, after you had cleaned every possible thing that you could, and the gifted food had been devoured hungrily – a blessing since you had neglected to eat in your current state – that left you with nothing to do but think. 

That was the last of what you wanted. 

But your mind refused to focus on any other hobby, and if Cass had found out you had gone out alone in this state, at 2 in the morning, she might try and lock you inside the apartment next time. 

Or have one of the other Bats start checking up on you. 

But there was nothing to temp you out as is. Not unless you received a call about your girlfriend, or a message from her specifically. Nothing could stop you from flying out that door fast enough to put the Flash to shame if that happened. 

But an hour later found you still sitting on the couch, with nothing but the sounds of the city as white noise against the raging tempest of your mind. 

There was nothing else you could do for the time, and with the weight of the day wearing on you, the only option you had was to go to bed and try to sleep. Even if it was nothing more than fitful attempts. 

So, you did. Hardly even bothering to slip into something comfortable enough to sleep in and crawling under the covers, one of your pillows hugged tightly to your chest as you buried your face against it and tried, just tried, to sleep. 

Eventually, the weight of your eyelids and coldness of the room won out, and you drifted off. Deep enough that when the front door was unlocked and pushed open it never even made you flinch. 

Of course Cassandra moving through the apartment was not enough to wake you – she was always so quiet and so careful. Years of training and knowing the apartment like the back of her hand left waking you out of the realm of possibility. 

Just how she liked it. Interrupting your sleep was something she usually tried to avoid unless something was wrong. 

And this time she was certain all she wanted was to get cleaned up and slip into bed next to you. Until the responsibilities of the day could be avoided no longer. 

But that meant a shower – she was long overdue for one, and while you would never say a word about it, she’d rather be clean before she slipped under the sheets and curled up against you. 

The sound of the running water, even through the closed bathroom door, was eventually what woke you. 

The culprit failed to register at first, as you blinked slowly, trying to ignore the sound gently pulling you back to the waking world. Brushing it off as your girlfriend taking a shower after patrol, like so many times before. 

Until the water stopped, and you snapped up, head whipping around to look in the direction of the bathroom, because that was when it had dawned on you. She had not been on patrol, because she had not been home. 

It’s hardly a minute later before Cassandra slips out of the bathroom and makes eye contact with you, giving a tired smile as she makes her way to the bed and sits on the edge. There’s a look of concern on her face and you cannot place why until she reaches out, putting a hand to your cheek and brushing away tears you were unaware had begun to fall. 

Her voice is so soft as she speaks, and you can hardly hear it as you try to reign your emotions in. “Are you okay?” 

There is no movement, nothing, for what feels like a lifetime, until you shoot forward and pull her into a hug, burying your face into the crook of her neck and not bothering to stop the tears. You hold on to her white-knuckled, like loosening your grip for even a fraction of a second then she’ll vanish from before you. 

Cassandra says nothing, at a loss for words for the pain she feels responsible for, just rubbing what she hopes are soothing circles into your back. 

You are unsure how long it has been, but finally it registers that she had asked you a question and to pull back enough to look at her. “I’m better now.” You let out an apologetic sound, pulling back to wipe the rest of your tears away as the crying finally subsides. “I’m sorry, I've just been worried,” you assure her. 

The two of you had been dating long enough for you to know when something was wrong, and you can see the way she reacts, like the beginnings of a sentence rest on her tongue – one she bites back. It is enough to prompt you to ask what is on her mind, taking her hands in your own as you move to get more comfortable. 

Cassandra seems to pull away, though her own hands tighten their grip on yours. 

It doesn’t take much else before the answer dawns on you. “You have another mission?” 

She sighs, and her shoulders drop before she finally meets your eyes with a regretful look. “I leave in a week. It will be another month at least, likely longer.” 

It isn’t ideal. In fact, it just leaves you with a feeling of dread. She had already been gone so long and now you were going to lose her again? Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest and break at the same time. 

Cassandra manages to pull you back to the present, calming you as she gets your attention and seems relieved when you finally focus back on her. 

But something is wrong, like she isn’t telling you everything, and it leaves a feeling of unease prickling along your skin. “Is there something else?” 

Cassandra hesitates before nodding. “We don’t have to talk about it tonight though.”  

“Cass, please, just talk to me.” 

It is then that she withdraws her hands from your own, seeming to buckle in on herself. “I’ve been thinking. My life is taking a toll on you, and I'm not sure how much longer this relationship will last because of it.” She pauses, eyes focused on her own hands clasped tightly together in her lap – she had faced so many dangers in her life, taken things head on, but the possibility that her next words could become a reality was terrifying. “And I would understand if you wanted to end things.” 

Like a dagger to the heart, her words sink in. “Do you want to end things?” 

“No!” Cassandra hushes after her reflexive outburst, embarrassed. “But I see the way you worry. Look at tonight - I made you cry. Why would you want to stay in a relationship like this?” 

You can see in her eyes that she expects you to agree, to tell her that everything she said is true and send her away for good – but that she desperately wants it to be wrong. And it is, you intend to assure her of that. 

“I knew when you told me you were Orphan that this wasn’t going to be easy. I knew there would be plenty of nights where I wouldn’t know what had happened to you until later, and that one day, if – and I say this as an extreme – you got hurt and never came back that maybe I wouldn’t even get closure on that. That I would never find out.” 

She jumps at that, “someone would tell you. If it did happen, they wouldn’t leave you in the dark.” 

It’s a small reprieve, if only for a moment, that she had thought of that, but it still terrifies you as well. 

“My point is, I’d worry about you even if we broke up, and I’m not willing to walk out of this relationship. I knew what kind of person you were when we started dating, and I could never ask you to give this life up.” 

Cass pulls you closer, until you’re in her lap, and you offer no fight as she does. More than happy just to be near her. 

Just to be sure that she’s really with you. 

Her soft voice only confirms that it isn’t a dream. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

“Hey,” you call softly, tilting her head until she is looking at you. When you have her attention, you pull her forward, kissing her like you had been wanting to do for more than a month now. “Everything is going to be okay,” you assure her. 

Cass hums, content and put at ease with your answer. Resting her forehead against your own and closing her eyes, you both enjoy the moment, until she shifts, pulling you down with her onto the bed to sleep, unwilling to let go. 

You’ll enjoy every moment you get with her, and, you think, maybe you can convince her to take patrols off until she leaves again.

[average-woman-enjoyer]

steph: i want waffles

steph to bruce: can you make me a waffle

bruce, not looking up from the batcomputer: no

steph: fuck you

[reanimationstation]

based off of this post, i just had to draw it

[dc-vs-marvel-tournament]

Submitted by anonymous

[nemmet]

🪐 doctober day 12: science expo

have i ever said that i would die for trixie trotter because i would die for trixie trotter

song of the day: she blinded me with science by thomas dolby

[weewoow-2060307]

I want Byler and Mileven to have a good relationship... Idc if either are romantic or platonic I just wanna see them getting along. Please. I beg. I need to see them happy.

[nisartoons]

"Drop this... Silly😈"

DUDE...I know I said that I hate Cyn bc she's so evil but HOW CAN I STAY MADE AT THIS LITTLE SILLY😭😭

[book-lover85]

Stay at home dad and artist on commission Keefe

[dinonuggetsandjuiceboxes]

Was scrolling my Twitter and someone I follow posted book covers they like. Saw this and immediately thought Pandora and Regulus

Side note: I have never read this book, nor do I know what it’s about at all. Just thought the characters look like Pandora and Regulus :3

[thepoisonroom]

'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.

I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.

About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'

-Casey Plett, Consciousness

[jadeyarts]

What's Anti Elixa and Anti-Nimbus like?

while i have put thought into what anti-elixa is like, i admit i haven't thought of anti-nimbus at all. i decided it would be more interesting to me personally if elixa had connections with her anti-fairy counterpart (in an exclusively professional and platonic manner) while anti-elixa was actually a single career-minded business woman in contrast to elixa being a happily married godparent - so she's never met anti-nimbus. he probably exists, but he doesn't factor into their lives.

anti-elixa basically has the demeanor of a pixie, if a pixie had vampiric tastes. if that makes sense. she's monotone, deadpan, and seemingly emotionless with a dry wit and a macabre sarcastic sense of humor. she has what she generously refers to as an alliance with elixa. they're not close friends, but they have each other on speed dial just in case. anti-elixa believes its more practical to maintain a non-hostile professional relationship than to be enemies like some anti-fairies are with their counterparts. she'd like a heads up if anything happens to elixa that could effect her schedule, you know.

after elixa takes in foop she calls anti-elixa up more often just to ask about anti-fairy traditions and needs that might not be in any books on fairyworld (it's something nimbus is extremely worried about) - anti-elixa will always be deadpan and sarcastic, but refuses to sabotage such a useful arrangement so she's as helpful as she can be.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 28

PREVIOUS

FF does not like being on pain medication.

Everything feels floaty and it is so hard to focus on anything around him.

He’s almost glad that his Gran has given him something to focus on that something being helping her sell her lie to the Foxes that she only knows Polish. Coach Wymack must know but the man is a steel trap and FF finds himself envying his Gran that HER secret keeper is Coach Wymack.

“Smithy! My sweet beautiful idiot!” Nicky cries when Gran gives Wymack the OK for them to come back in. FF finds himself on the receiving end of 2 forehead kisses and a kiss to each of his cheeks from Nicky. “Next time you see a crazy mafia hitman looking to kidnap me you just grab me and RUN.” He orders pointedly, “No more cool guy shit where you take ‘em out in the weird sex alley.” He runs his fingers through FF’s hair and…

Yeah it’s okay that Nicky is the one that knows.

Nicky is so nice.

“What about Aaron?” FF asks.

“If Romero could grab Aaron when he is in whacky inflatable tube mode then I don’t think he’d be taken out by you and Andrew.” Nicky says with a watery smile.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is offended.

“Learn to dance at a club already. We’ve been going for years.” Nicky shoots back but never takes his eyes off of FF’s face.

“I dance just fine. I’m better than Kevin.” Aaron argues.

“Hey.” Kevin’s voice is offended.

“You are better than Kevin, but that’s not a real standard of good.” Nicky dismisses, “Regardless, next time grab me and I’ll grab Aaron and the three of us can hide literally anywhere other than the weird sex alley. We could go to the back room with Roland or, if it means you not ending up in the hospital with a stab wound, I would even tolerate hiding down in the straight swingers club in the basement.” Nicky says.

He sees Andrew and Captain Neil tense off to the side.

Oh, that’s right.

Oh fun another lie for him to focus on instead of feeling floaty. Gran always talked about the virtue of telling the truth but the only thing set free would be Nicky in a club that he’s not supposed to know about.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you Nicky.” FF says instead.

Nicky laughs and kisses his cheek one more time. “You’re my favorite family member now. Sorry Aaron, you’ve made me endure the horrors of a heterosexual relationship for too long.” Nicky says stroking  FF’s face as he looks up to where FF assumes Aaron is.

“Hey.” Aaron says in the exact same way he said earlier.

“Andrew-“ Nicky starts but is cut off.

“I don’t care.”

“That’s the spirit.” Nicky says, “Neil-“

“Nicky, I also don’t care.”

“At least you have one another to support each other.”

“Wait, what about me?” Kevin asks.

“You won’t even LEARN the family language Kevin, you were NEVER in the running for my favorite.” Nicky dismisses and doesn’t bother to turn back to the  “So Smithy is my favorite family member now with Aras coming in second.”

Two things strike FF in the wake of family conversation.

First, when in the world did Kevin get here? Why is he here? Is he going to ask the doctors to run tests on FF to figure out stealth mode?

Second, Nicky just used his Gran’s nickname. The nickname that causes FF no small amount of embarrassment. It was a youthful indiscretion! He had thought he understood Lithuanian quite well! He had wanted to impress his Great Gran and his Gran with his knowledge.

“You’re looking pale Smith, do you need more pain medication?” Captain Neil asks.

“No, I’m fine.” He is pretty sure that pain meds can’t numb the psychological pain of his friends hearing about his youthful mistakes and he doesn’t care how bad his stomach is going to hurt he wants to only take the absolute minimum amount of pain meds required to get through this so he can stop floating.

Having friends nearby makes it so much easier.

Conversations go on with him and around him. He’s tired still from everything and when a nurse comes in to try and give him more pain medication he declines. All present in the room except Gran try to convince him to take it but he declines all but the most minor amount to take the edge off.

He finally realizes that Kevin had not been with them and asks why the hell he’s here. He gets an answer that makes him reconsider being on any pain medication at all because it doesn’t really make any sense. Why in the world is Kevin telling him not to trust the nutritionist?

Neil lets him know that the FBI are going to be coming around at some point to talk to him. He says that Agent Browning is a dick but generally fine and that there will be a local agent Iruma Matsumoto stopping by before him, probably today. He looks right at Andrew and says “Yeah, I’ll talk with them about how Romero stabbed me.” Andrew lets out an amused puff of laughter that makes FF feel like he might be doing alright at this friendship thing.

He apologizes to Andrew that he can’t make the pie today and gets a flick to his ear.

He finds out that he slept through all of Saturday and that it is Sunday morning. Finds out that his Gran and Wymack had stayed over at the Columbia house last night and that Wymack has him excused from his classes this week. He also finds out that Nicky has given his grandma a key to the house in Columbia so she could stay there while she’s visiting him.

He apologizes to Nicky for messing up the clothes he’d let him borrow and earns another flick to the ear from Nicky.

Wymack hands him a new phone that Nicky has apparently set up for him. His lip quirks up slightly when he sees that Nicky registered it as ’Smithy’s phone’. Neil shows him some stuff since he has the same phone model but Andrew rolls his eyes.

“You’ve barely figured out how to set anything on your phone Junkie. You still haven’t even set a screen lock.” He says as he pulls Neil back from FF’s space.

“I’ve figured out how to change the notification ping.” Neil argues but lets himself be pulled away and if Andrew keeps his arm around Neil afterwards? No one comments on that.

He translates things for his Gran when it seems important for her to be able to respond to and helps Nicky with some pronunciations.

He falls asleep a couple times and wakes up to his friends and teammates in all sorts of different configurations. Nicky gets him some good sugar-free Jell-O from the nurses while Aaron smacks Kevin upside the head when Kevin complains that it’s not good for him and not part of the diet he’s making to get FF back on the Court ASAP. “He’s gotta be on a clear liquid diet for 24 hours after his surgery.” Aaron hisses.

“Why does it have to be clear? I can put it in a blender but it won’t be clear.” Kevin grumbles.

“He’s not going to be on puree’d food for at least two weeks idiot.” Aaron smacks his head again.

“Stop that.”

He hears from Wymack the other Freshman Dealer won’t be returning and that Sheena is now their only Dealer and she does not do defense well. Kevin’s disapproval for the Jell-O cups only grows stronger in light of this news. His grumbling only stops when Gran looks at him and says “Maybe someone should help you pull that stick out of your ass young man.” In her nicest most grandmotherly voice.

When Kevin turns to FF for a translation Nicky beats him to it, “She said a handsome young man like you shouldn’t ruin your face with worries.” He says without a hint that he’s lying.

Kevin preens at the grandmotherly approval of his looks and FF gets to know that he, Nicky and his grandma all have lying in common.

Eventually it’s lunch time and the natural hunger of college athlete boys trumps anything else. Kevin won’t eat anything at the cafeteria since he doesn’t trust the nutritionist so they agree to head out of the hospital to grab food. He’s more tired than hungry so he tells his Gran to go with them. She pats his face and promises she’ll be back with some clear soup for him per the Doctor’s order and despite Kevin’s grumbling that he could make a clear protein shake.

His Gran kisses his forehead and tells him that she’ll be back soon and that he should rest as much as he can.

***

FF can’t sleep.

He tried.

He really did.

But without the noise of everyone else his mind keeps going back to the last time he was in a hospital. He closes his eyes and he can see Gran’s pale face when she tells him that his dad didn’t make it and the tears when she tells him neither-

He can’t sleep.

So he gets up against medical advice and decides to go on a walk. He’s not been connected to any of the monitoring equipment since he had first woken up, just the IV keeping him hydrated. FF decides he wants to get his dad’s leather back because it would make him feel better. The leather jacket has weight that would keep his feet strictly on the ground and it’s something his Gran had given to him when he went off to college so that he could keep his dad close. He could call a nurse but it feels like he shouldn’t distract them with something as stupid as getting him his dad’s jacket so he doesn’t have a panic attack.

So he lets himself slip into the background and heads towards the nurse station. He thinks that might be where they’re holding his belongings. It’s a good first stop if nothing else.

He can’t help but notice a strange number of men in suits but figures that maybe they’re just there to talk to people who seem to have gotten caught up in some sort of mass casualty incident.

He makes it to the nurse station and when a whole 5 minutes goes by without a single nurse clocking that he exists he considers speaking up until he sees a nurse bagging up some clothes, slapping on a label, and heading away.

It’s nice when things work out for him.

Another suit wearing man comes up and a different nurse sees him there immediately and comes up, “What can I help you with?” She asks.

“I’m looking for someone with the last name Smith, he has a stab wound?” The man asks.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” The nurse responds with exasperation but FF is already almost out of earshot when he hears it because he’s following the nurse with the bag.

He follows her down the hallway and she thankfully takes an elevator instead of going down the stairs because FF doesn’t know how he would have gotten his IV stand down with him.

FF walks in with her and he watches her slump as the doors slide close. Relaxing like most people do when they think they’re alone. Her shoulders go straight back when the elevator opens again and he follows after her.

He follows her to a door that she unlocks and proceeds to enter and FF sees a room full of the same bags with belongs all tagged with a last name and a room number. “Christ, why are there so many fucking Smiths in here right now?” She grumbles but takes him straight to the S section and he sees his own ‘Smith’ and room number.

He grabs it and heads out the door before the nurse and heads into the elevator.

His phone pings with a text message. He opens it and sees a text from an unknown number.

“Come to the Cafeteria. - IM”

FF stares at his phone for a few minutes before the initials click.

Iruma Matsumoto, the local FBI agent who was coming to talk to him today according to Captain Neil. It’s weird to be texted like this but this is the first time he’s ever had to talk to the FBI. Maybe it’s normal? He doesn’t really want to bother Captain Neil about what getting interrogated by the FBI is like since Captain Neil is out at lunch.

He decides to go to the Cafeteria.

FF follows the directory in the elevator and then the arrows that point him towards the cafeteria. He takes a moment to pull his dad’s jacket out and it does help him feel better. He realizes the McDonald’s toy is still in his pocket and thinks that he really should probably turn that over to Agent Matsumoto.

When he gets to the cafeteria he sees even more of those guys in suits and then he sees a well dressed Japanese man sitting by himself at a table. FF has a moment where he thinks ‘Wow that FBI agent sure does look like a member of the Yakuza.’ Before he squashes it because ‘OMG that’s such a fucking racist thing to think. Thoughts from the abyss are the worst and Agent Matsumoto is probably a perfectly nice guy.’

He takes a seat in front of the man who is surrounded by two other of the men in black he’s seen. Oh that guy was probably looking for him to bring him here so they could have the talk.

None of the men seem to notice him and FF realizes that he’s still in stealth mode. He sets the bag with the rest of his clothes to the side and clears his throat.

Three sets of eyes are on him immediately and FF breathes through the anxiety as the two men at either side of Agent Matsumoto seem to reach for something at their holsters.

“Captain Neil said you wanted to talk to me.” He says.

Captain Matsumoto raises a hand and the two men on either side of him return to an at ease position.

***

Ichirou Moriyama could admit to himself that he had been startled when a young man seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of him without any warning. He sees a bulge in the man’s pocket that says that he’s armed and he could have done anything before bringing attention to himself. He had men throughout the hospital and no one has spotted Wesninski or any of his cohorts but they had their eyes peeled for the uninvolved civilian who had taken out Jackson on his own and had assisted Wesninski’s guard dog in taking out Romero.

Interesting.

Ichirou clasps his hands together in over the cafeteria table.

“Yes, let’s talk.” He agrees.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themundanemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex​ @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​ @omgrubelangel​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​ @percabethotplove​ @cozyrosykay​ @foxyatlas​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @cindersapsecrets​

The  requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few  different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I  promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be  something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

If you didn’t get notified on the last part it’s probably because I used tumblr mobile to post and our most beloved garbage fire site just didn’t like that.

[shinonomekei]

I gave up on the coloring but luckily the placeholder bg color I was using worked well, so ig that’s that

[cccloudsss]

hate to say it but tumblr totally killed the quality here, but!!! made a drawing for my dear friend's fic, Proof of Life

this is from chapter 7

“Are you sure you’re not going to fuck up my hair?” I ask. Fiona flicks me. “It’s already fucked up. I can’t possibly make it worse.”

@roomwithanopenfire