Yipee!! MSPFAs!!!
Mspfas Contained:
- Surgeburb (Gaemir, Purrus, Ceferi, Wwhono) My MSPFA!
- Untitledstuck (Trenas, Candex, Vremol, Fendir) @whenthestuckisuntitled / @spaceypineapple
- Temper, Temper (Temper, Chirop, Morrow) @tempertyzias
- Hackbent (Ollapa) @hackbentadventures
- Heinoustuck (Heinousstuck Jade) Unknown Creator??
- Kittyquest (Kitty Harley-Leider + Furby) @purpletyrant
- The Crow Strider AU (Crow Strider) @meraki-sunset
- Guidestuck/Guidestuck^2 (Bec Harley) Unknown Creator??
- Equiquest (Equius Zahhak) @equiquest
- Beginner’s Guide To The End Of The Universe (Everyman) Unknown Creator??
If you guys know the creators I didn’t know please tell me so I can tag them!
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Day 14 for the oh so lovely @temper-temper
GIRL. you know I just adore you, and I'm so very grateful for the friendship we've built. You're a ball of energy and life, and you deserve all the good things that are coming your way. You're going to make an absolutely beautiful bride, and I wish you and Guru all the best in your married life together 💕 have an autumn just as amazing as you are Temp! Drive safe!
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and before I forgot, I also made this as disguise as "anonymous fan art" for @temper-temper XD
just for reference, this is actually drawn digitally
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Happy Birthday to the amazing @temper-temper !!!!!!!!!
Hope your birthday has been awesome. Sorry this is posted later in the day.
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Had this kicking around as a sketch for a while, had time to actually finish it this morning before work!! I've been feeling extra lovey dovey lately haha, and I know a particular gal who's always down to chat about our fellas together ❤️
Featuring the lovelies
@temper-temper
@randomgurustuffs
@whirlwindflux
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Prompt #23: Pitch
“Why him?”
The low rumble of Silvaineaux’s voice caught Vaelanys by surprise. He had been watching, both the wisps of steam rising from the teapot in front of him, and the perfectly controlled trickle of aether as the knight worked at the problem he had set him. He had improved a great deal, Vaelanys noted. The glow of his working eyes was steady, and he was clearly at ease enough with it to speak while he Saw. “I am not sure what you mean.” He said. “Which one is it? And why…who is it you speak of?”
“It’s the red one… the third blossom from the top. But you’ve also put something down in the stem of the blue one?”
“You’re right.” Vaelanys said and watched Silvaineaux’s eyelids drop over that sapphire and amber glow. “You have practiced hard.”
Silvaineaux’s eyes met his, no glow behind them now, only a marked intensity of gaze. “Why him?” He repeated. “Isolvar.” He bared his teeth a little over the name and his tone made it sound like a curse. “Surely you could do better.”
Vaelanys set the cup he had been readying down its saucer with a careful precision that ran counterpoint to the sudden fierce flare of his temper. He pressed that temper down, setting his hands palm down atop the counter in the nearly bare flat they used for their lessons. He pressed until he could feel the grain of the wood even against the roughness of his palms and held himself there, still and steady rather than reaching for his staff. When he spoke his voice was carefully calm, steady. No louder or sharper than it had been before. “You are aware of course that someone might easily ask you the very same question about your foreign priest.”
He felt the immediate rousing of Silvaineaux’s own anger as clearly as he saw it. It filled the room between them like the gathering charge of an oncoming lightning strike, as Silvaineaux rose immediately to his feet.
“I am not asking it.” Vaelanys continued, holding his voice steady and low, though he could hear his own anger in the very careful shaping of the syllables. “He clearly makes you happy and if he does then to the hells with what everyone else thinks. I am only pointing out that someone could ask.” He looked up into the much taller knight’s face and knew his staff was two steps behind him and to the side, by the door. “And that you would not like it if they did.”
“It is not at all the same.” Silvaineaux said the words as carefully enunciated as his own had been, though Vaelanys could hear the rising pitch of his defensive rage in the low rumble that lurked behind them. “He is kind, he tends to others, he does no harm to anyone. But…”
“And you love him.” Vaelanys snapped, voice raising enough to cut across Silvaineaux’s words before his cousin could add something they would both have reason to regret. “So society’s expectations and everything else be damned. But there are some who would find your choice to be the worse one. Lord Ravendarke has lands and titles. By society’s standards he is the more acceptable choice in some ways. And none of that matters! Because my answer is the same as yours. I love him.”
Silence hung between them in the wake of his words, but Silvaineaux remained standing, looming over him with that fierce temper in his eyes. But perhaps he had taken heed for after a moment some of the ferocity went out of his gaze and he sighed, the hand Vaelanys hadn’t noticed moving toward his sword sliding deliberately away again. “But why?” He asked.
“Why did your mother choose your father instead of the match our grandfather had made for her?” Vaelanys said, and reached carefully for the teapot, proud of the steadiness of his hands as he poured the first cup. “Why are you ready to come down on me like an owl on a mouse for even mentioning to you the same things you just asked me? Because I do. And she did, and you do. And is there really any more that needs to be said than that?” He poured the second cup.
Silvaineaux surprised him by reaching to take it, a soft breathy sound that was half a chuckle escaping him. “I thought you were going to go for your staff.” He said.
Vaelanys took up his own cup with a sigh of relief as the tension ebbed from the room. “I thought about it.” He admitted. “Or perhaps I should say I almost did and what I thought was better of it. We are not enemies.”
“No.” Silvaineaux agreed, taking a small sip of the tea. “We are not.” His brows lifted. “This is good tea.”
“Thank you.”
“I still can’t understand…”
“You don’t have to.”
“No.” Silvaineaux conceded. “I suppose I don’t.”
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