#as a treat teehee

[cheemken]

I just had an idea for lancexdiantha. I don’t know if it’s still on your radar, but what if Diantha dated Lysandre, and he treated her horribly. She blames herself for falling for such a terrible person.

So, when she starts falling for another person, who looks and reminds her so much like Lysandre she stops and has to re-evaluate her decisions. She tries so hard to not fall for him, but in the end she does.

But, it gets better. When Cynthia forces Diantha to tell Lance her feelings and they start dating for a while, Diantha gets the relationship she wants and deserves.

Like, Lysandre manipulates and tries to crack Diantha down, but Lance is gentle and gives Diantha her space. He encourages her and gives her the world. You can’t tell me Lance just takes a whole ass week off just because Diantha’s on her period and gives her all her favorite food, her favorite pads/her product of choice, and a coffee. Heck, he even gives her a little heating pad wrapped in his cape because he came to her aid so quickly he couldn’t even get a blanket (he also didn’t want said pad to burn her like Lysandre would often do to her with his pyroar).

I am making myself cry with all this fluff. I guess this is what I get for reading two metric tons of just fluff fics for two weeks.

Oughghgh silkwing my beloved hcmdhd

I don't ship Dia and Lys tho bc I thought it'd be funny that w the hc of Diantha and Sycamore being siblings they just have this type when it comes to men and they'd both trash on each other's taste in men when it's basically almost the fucking same appearance wise lmfaoooo

In my hcs it's Malva who's Dia's ex and I just know that they haven't moved on from each other your honour and almost everyone knows it the toxic yuri got to me the tension w these two is fucking immaculate

Anyways

Oughghgh silkwing,,, pls Lance would tho, he's just so doting and he's low-key a simp but pls your honour he just wants his wife to be happy and if that means buying chocolate at three in the godforsaken morning bc she was craving some during her week then so be it, he'll damn well find that specific brand of chocolate she wants

But aaaa that thing w his cape no cause I have this lil hc too your honour that Lance really left one of his capes w her and I also wanna say Dia left one of her scarves w him bc they're sweet and cringy like that but it's also low-key angsty bc these two are very lonely people and having smth that reminds them of their partner kinda reassures them that they aren't lonely anymore and they have someone now pls do you see my vision cbndhd

[aeternxs]

...also if anyone is able to supply my addiction to heart crushing angst pls let me know i will pay you in yelling about our muses for 47 hours at a time-

[cutiesigh]

❤️🖤🩷

Wuthering Waves has taken over all of my free time recently, so here's a sketch of Scar!Ren I originally shared in da 14DWY Discord!!

[kingzombear]

UUUGH crazy women w knives are my weaknessss 🥴 These kinda aus take me OUT I'd be no better than Rag's gay ass here TBHHHH

@spitinsideme hope u like it hon <3

[bunnieswithknives]

Thinking about his brain

[choccy-milky]

clora teaching her doggy some restraint 💞🐶

[faeriekit]

A brief snippet of Time/DimensionTravel!Tim (which I found as a draft in my docs)

There was a bell at the door. 

Alfred Pennyworth did nothing as dramatic as to jolt straight upwards in alarm, but he did find himself pausing. After all, there were no deliveries scheduled, and a ring at the door meant that someone had bypassed several of Wayne Manor’s many security measures. 

There was no Mister Wayne present on the premises to make decisions. There was only Alfred, in custody of the home, and the ghost of Waynes long since gone from the home itself. 

There was nothing for it. Alfred quietly retrieved a revolver from its place underneath the wood paneling in the hall and gathered himself for the long walk to the door. 

The closer he drew to the front entrance, the more factors of the situation made themselves known. There was a pounding on the roof, and on exposed windows. It was raining. The night found outside ancient window frames was black, and opaque, and determinably wet. 

Something thumped. Alfred was not entirely sure it was thunder. The revolver in his coat dragged his consciousness back to its weighted body over and over again. 

Finally Alfred made it to the front door. There was a peephole, but Alfred didn’t risk his eye to use it; if there was someone on the other side, it would become obvious that there was an observer if they had elected to peer in as well. No. Instead he reached for a mirror— and, passed on from the mirrored ornaments hung in a nearby window, Alfred could see a single body on the other side of the front door. 

Well. There was one way to determine the man’s motives. Would it were that Alfred wasn’t alone in Wayne Manor at the moment. 

The four locks came undone, a bar, a chain, and two cylinders. It took considerable strength to pry open the doors— a deterrent against possible invaders— but Alfred knew to never look as though one was struggling. The image of strength was often just as important as the ability to achieve in itself. 

Alfred pulled open the door. 

On the other side was a…teenager. Alfred would be hard-pressed to consider the figure “an adult.”

The boy was practically swimming in the rain, with nothing but a thin, black, long-sleeve shirt and soft pants to defend himself with. He was shoeless. He was soaked to the bone. 

Despite that, he was past every security measure around Wayne Manor with no evidence as to how. 

“Good evening,” Alfred greeted the lad, despite the odd hour of eleven forty-five at night. “I am afraid the master of the house isn’t home, despite your trek. I am afraid I will have to ask you to depart.” 

“Alf—” the boy started. And then his teeth clicked shut. Unusual. It was common practice to use knowledge as a weapon against one’s enemies, but rarely did that knowledge include the name of the waitstaff. “My apologies. I didn’t…mean to call on you so late. But I came here to meet with you, Alfred Pennyworth. I come with a proposal.” 

…Alfred had no appropriate response to that. One white-flecked eyebrow rose above the other.

The boy, recognizing Alfred’s disinterest, carefully bowed. His hands came together. His back bent. Depending on what this visitor knew, he may have understood that Alfred was perfectly capable of erasing problems that might arrive with the Manor’s owner’s absence. 

“Information about your,” the boy paused. “...Former ward, in exchange for sanctuary.” 

Alfred did nothing so dramatic as to gasp, but still, his breath hitched in surprise. If the boy noticed, he did not respond; his eyes stayed low, his posture exposing his neck and back. 

No one, not even Alfred, had heard from Master Bruce since his…unwelcome departure from medical school. If this boy knew where the not-quite-so-young Master had vanished…

Alfred’s grip on the door tightened. “I imagine, then, that I ought to ask you inside.”

Shivering, and subservient, the boy rose from his bow to follow him indoors. 

*

The boy looked no larger in a swathe of towels than he had in the rain outside. 

Damp, with wet black hair smeared over his face and clothes clinging to his person, the boy looked no more restored in a wrap of two fluffy guest towels than he had in soaked clothes alone. 

He did not act as though he was an urchin, used to disrespect, happy to be helped. He acted as though he was a serpent in a maze: clinging to walls and wary of windows, and still, ultimately, royal. 

The boy took a swallow of Alfred’s second-best black tea. If there were no witnesses, Alfred would put money towards the prospect that the boy would have chugged the cup down instead. The mug was carefully lowered to the table. 

“...As of three weeks ago, the date was set for Talia al Ghul to marry Bruce Wayne in the custom of her people,” the boy begins. 

Alfred’s mug nearly slipped from his fingers. He said nothing. There was nothing to say. Alfred was no longer his legal guardian— still, if there was to be a marriage, he should have expected to see some sort of notice at least—

“He doesn’t know,” the boy continued, his lips bloodless and cold, “Because no one has told him. The marriage is not legally binding without paperwork, but she will consider it so, and expect him to continue with their union as spouses. Spousal consent is not traditionally considered to be necessary for their union.” 

Alfred’s lips narrowed. “I…see.” His boy had always wanted something more akin to adventure than domestic responsibility. It appeared as though he had found it. 

“He will leave,” the boy said, blue eyes pointed to the ground, “And depending on how she responds, his would-be-wife will either attempt to follow him before she ultimately returns, or she will attempt to keep him there. One will result in a fight, and the other will not, but either way, I would expect him to return to Gotham in, perhaps…anywhere between one to three months from today.”

The aging butler resisted the urge to sigh into his mug. Would it be that his boy had come into possession of better taste in his gallivant overseas. Considering his proclivities, however, he should have expected some form of complicated drama. “How did you come by this information?”

The boy blinked. “Oh,” he said. “I was being trained as his servant. I believe I was meant to be a wedding gift.” 

Alfred’s mug paused midair. “Trained,” he repeated. The boy was…young. Too young to be legitimately employed as a servant. And considering his ill-fated arrival… “In what manner were you trained?” 

The boy fidgeted carefully. Most men might not have noticed. His hand jerked the cup, although not enough for it to spill; he raised one knee over the other, mouth twisting. He did not want to reveal this piece of information; or, he feared the repercussions of doing so.

“Oh, you know,” the boy deflects, eyes cutting across the room. “In the usual arts. Accounting. Organization. Personnel Management. First aide. Anatomy, physiology. Hacking. Infiltration. Firearms. Poisons. Lethal and nonlethal weaponry. Sabotage.” 

Alfred stared. 

The boy’s expression turned sheepish. “...To be fair, Talia really, really thinks she can convince him to join her father’s ninja cult. It won’t work, of course,” he quickly tried to reassure. “But. Um. She is rather convinced she can take his bloodline into her own and indoctrinate him into becoming assassin royalty. And have assassin babies with him.” 

…The mug was set down with a little more force than Alfred might have preferred.

[xochimillilili]

Probably a tiny bit early to be thinking of it, but shit I just wanna have a little halloween themed evening with a cute boy. Maybe invite him over for a movie marathon, baking ghost cookies and hanging up decorations— and barely an hour in just before staring a horror film, already have him tied up on my couch, a pumpkin plush shoved into his mouth as a gag, teasing his soft tits with a knife and pretend spiderwebs as I tell him how I'll fuck him stupid soon enough

Maybe I'll drip hot wax on his pretty body with one of the candles from the jack o lanterns, wear a mask as I spank his ass until bruised. Or maybe shallowly fuck his pretty cunt with the hilt of a plastic bloody axe. Finish the night off by finally fucking him stupid and getting him cockdrunk, pumped full of cum as I cuddle him close to me, telling him what a good boy he is... before finally admitting I'm a dumb lil scaredy cat with horror movies, melting at his cute laugh as we go off to scare the shit out the neighbors by setting up our giant skeleton in the yard

[vixxdaemon]

My personal assignments for Termina characters as animals, my foundation for each of these is either genuine symbolism or simply vibes.

[hballegro]

"It's more than something. It's everything."

s8e11 "Life Time"

painted screenshot. cannot give a time estimate, i lost track long ago. still gouache brush, my beloved, with blur tools to fade edges and so on

i have to go to the zoo now and will be making the version with the clock later [i cannot express how long ive been battling with hawkeye's face, gamers]. background went very fast like i said it would lol

version 2 [as in, w/ clock] will probably be done later today, and i will edit this and add it when that happens [and prolly make a separate post too, for celebration purposes, and will link them]. i will also compile progress pics for that post. they are terrifying early on lmao

"A lot of very touching songs came outta that war" previous painting

"It was pink, and perfect, and I tossed it in the scrap bucket" previous painting

everyone say thank you to bj to being a perfect painting subject today he was very polite and he looks about how i wanted unlike SOME PEOPLE

that was me to my sibling last night, and i stayed up til 1:10ish and still didnt finish the final pass over hawkeye's eye. everything else took like 5ish minutes

also everyone say thank you to margaret and nurse kellye for also being perfect and lovely and pleasant to work with

photo used blatantly stolen from this post thank you again @remyfire i owe you my life

update edit;

clock back

[casualheizouenjoyers]

- secrets i have held in my heart

featuring: jing yuan, bailu, yanqing, reader

warnings: a bit angsty ig, hanahaki au, blood, sickness, throwing up, coughing and just general sick stuff

Orchids grow where others cannot.

This phrase reigns especially true when orchids begin to grow in your body. Scratching your throat and clogging up your lungs. 

You try to laugh it off as a small cough, a small sickness, as if the whole thing didn’t fill you with dread when you thought about the invasive plant infesting your every breath. 

It isn’t until finally you violently cough over your sink that a bloodied white orchid petal came fluttering out.

Were… you some form of mara struck? You wondered in confusion at the collection of petals that grew with each hack of your lungs. 

The high elder —Bailu— immediately takes up your case. Which is potentially concerning as you’ve gone to about possibly any doctor that will see you for some kind of explanation to your floral fever and none of them have had anything good to say. 

In fact, they have nothing to say about your illness. No one knew what was causing the orchids to bloom, making a home of your decaying body; a pretty parasite taking you ahold. 

The little Vidyadhara girl frowned upon seeing the collection of whole flowers and crumbled petals, all coated with a splattered layer of dried blood. 

Bailu’s eyes squinted as she observed the floral. 

Perhaps, it was some kind of achievement that you had every doctor and healer on the luofu stumped at your conditions? 

It isn’t until you’re coughing out another flower, this time red covering it was still vibrant and liquid, that the healer decided you were some form of mara struck and needed to be monitored closely. Even as she wrote out her prescription and made you promise to come back the next week, you could tell she wasn’t too sure about what she was saying.

That did absolutely nothing to calm your nerves. 

You go home after collecting your prescription and puke out leaves and stems along with the flowers. 

Despite your sickness, work is work, you decided, and working as a tutor was fulfilling for you. You hope —prayed— that the sight of your favorite student, Yanqing, would bring you some form of joy. The lesson went smoothly, though it was clear your student’s mind was up in the clouds, but you didn’t comment about it as yours was rooted deep elsewhere. 

With the closing of the textbook, Yanqing’s eyes light up. 

“Can we swordfight now?” The teenaged boy asked.

You almost said no.

You had realized early on that Yanqing would do his work and pay attention better if you found a way to relate it to swordsmanship, or if you promised that the two of you would spar a little after a lesson. 

There was a growing weakness in your body. It seemed that describing the flowers as a parasite wasn’t inaccurate, as every day went on you felt them drain the energy out of you. 

Yanqing waited for your response.

You nodded, standing up and picking up your sword from where it rested on a wall. Once, you had used it as a cloud knight, now it only ever saw use when teaching the blonde boy. 

Yanqing excitedly ran to the other side of the room, drawing his sword and getting into position. He paused, looking over at you.

When did your eyes become so sunken in? Your hand shook as you held your sword up and it became increasingly clear to Yanqing that you were in no position to swordfight. 

Your student called out your name, a hint of concern in his voice. 

“I— Give me a moment—” You called out, placing a hand on your head as a sudden headache came, making your vision blur and your legs lose balance as you head tumbling for the floor.

Yanqing tossed his sword far away as he slid to catch you. 

Bailu is halfway through her yearly appointment with the general when you come in with Yanqing by your side.

You mumbled apologies for the interruption and swore on your life you were fine. 

You had honestly not realized how bad things had gotten in the few days from the last time you had seen the healer.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of Jing Yuan.

The orchid also fluttered out of your mouth in a set of coughs that leave you out of breath on the ground, Yanqing down at your side again. 

There are multiple voices speaking but your mind can focus on none of them. 

Jing Yuan helped you up and you feel your heart clench up as a choke comes to your throat.

More orchids. 

He whispered to you in a soft voice, trying to help you through this coughing fit as Yanqing explained the situation that had happened just a few minutes before. 

Bailu watched this, shock painted on the girls face as she realized two truths.

You were indeed mara struck, just with a rare mutation that had gone out thousands of years ago. 

You were also in love with the general

and it was going to be the death of you.

[biblically-accurate-dca]

rejoice! fish 🐟

[scoots-canoe]

Tien in dragonball super (canon)

[cutiesigh]

「 twitter version . `✦ original by mitzubao 」

[jojo-schmo]

If you see any bubbles with candy in them floating by, take them! It’s a Halloween treat from me to you! :D

And if you found one, lemme know!! It’d be nice to know where my bubbles ended up :3

[bitter--boxx]

apple shenanigans 🍎hehe