#this one is def not as good
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choccy-milky · 3 months ago
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sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )
#READ SO I CAN YAP TO SOMEONE ABOUT THEM🙏😩💘#the seb sickfic made me realize how much i needed barely functioning and sick seb (but him still trying to be tough)#theres also a part that cracked me up bc at one point seb is so sick he cant even see straight but he just thinks to himself:#eh its fine.... ill just ask ominis how HE functions without vision later🤷 LMFAO#so stubborn...JUST LET CLORA TAKE CARE OF YOU MFER🤺🤺🤺#defs gonna be drawing more from it especially sick seb LMAO but also seb having a tea party with celeste🥹🥹#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x oc#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian x mc#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#sebastian sallow fanfiction#hphl#choccyart#also i was never planning on writing anything about clora giving birth or abt the kids so to be able to read it WAS AMAZING#THERES A PART WHERE SEB IS HOLDING CELESTE AND CRYING AT CLORAS BEDSIDE THAT I NEED TO DRAW😭😭#LIKE SRSLY seb being conflicted and not even wanting to HOLD celeste bc he doesnt know if clora is alive or not... IT WAS SO SAD BUT GOOD#i honestly dont know what seb would do if clora died in childbirth tbh.......i could honestly see him resenting celeste#esp since she looks so much like clora😭😭#LETS JUST NOT THINK ABOUT IT!😃👍#(still thinking about it)#like this line in the fic: “Sebastian hesitated; if this was Clora’s last gift to him he wasn’t sure he wanted it.”#😭😭😭ITS SO GOOD UGHHHHH😭 TY AGAIN FOR WRITING THESE💖IM SO TOUCHEDDD💖💖
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ruporas · 1 year ago
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captain's warm hugs! (id in alt)
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watmalik · 3 months ago
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Poolverine out of context…either they have a pain kink or they just like getting tied up…or both? Let’s do both.
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seventh-district · 7 months ago
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Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition
[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]
#boothill#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr incorrect quotes#hsr memes#honkai star rail memes#hsr meme#honkai star rail meme#hsr textpost#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#hsr spoilers#hsr 2.2 spoilers#hmmm... don't think it's worth tagging the others in the 9th image. this ain't about them#still unsure abt how to do the alt text for these kinda posts properly but hopefully i'm improving#anyways. don't think i've ever seen heard and typed "cowboy' so many times in one day as i have while making this good lord#i did a bit of digging around and haven't Seen any of these done yet so. here's hoping that's the case!#i'm only ~3/4 of the way through the 2.2 main quest but the need to make these compelled me to put these out Now#i can already tell u that there Will be more of these for Boothill tho bc i'm crazy abt him. probably enough to make another dedicated post#but i'm gonna wait until i'm fully caught up on the plot (and will probably spoil myself for more of his character lore after that as well)#speaking of. i'm gonna go eat mac n' cheese and stay up too late playing through the rest of the main quest#i'm loving it so far. many thoughts head full abt it all but in a good way. hoping for more Boothill moments as we approach the end#he's def not the main character here but he is to Me okay. he is to me. i'm scarfing down every crumb he drops#i'm also suffering from Aventurine withdrawals out here. Argenti mentioning him was Interesting but i need More. Where Is He.#also. was Argenti intentionally not voiced or was it a game issue?? the hell was that. threw me off so hard when i couldn't hear him speak#anyways i'm getting off topic and wasting precious gaming time so i'll be takin' my leave now
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been thinking about how joy and embarrassment might interact......they are so besties. To Me. <3
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artbysarf · 8 months ago
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The Moth and the Lizard are married actually
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bruqh · 1 year ago
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siobhan soooooo so so brave for playing another pc with a sister
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pinkmirth · 8 months ago
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god he looks so kissable
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ego-meliorem-esse · 1 year ago
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July 13th, 1917
Be it from a sense of paternal concern or simply patriotic duty, Arthur made sure to leave his soldiers in the charge of an older Corporal and made his way to the quite pathetic excuse of a medical section where his son was left to rot.
Arthur had heard about the attack. He had been informed the day prior.
He had seen war and famine and sickness, but never like this. Arthur wasn't young, in any sense, and what wonders and strong political oppinions young men had, had left him a long time ago like a ship leaving the harbour in a hury to claim new land. This though, had left shock echoing within his tired, millenia old frame. He wasn't used to this.
Arthur made his way through the trenches with soldiers from every corner of the globe instantly stopping whatever they were doing prior and saluting him as if etiquette and rank mattered in hell. As if it was more importaint to greet the Higher ups than to survive long enough to even write a letter back to family. Arthur did understand that though. Routine and rules were the only thing keeping these poor and wretched souls from being consumed by thoughts of an imminent death.
The path to the section where Matthew was held was quite straightforward and quite familiar. He had marched to and from it hundreds of times and had a sort of automatic rithm in his step. Arthur made his way to the small and damp room with a fast pace indicative of familiarity, only to stop in his tracks in the shabbily built doorframe at the sight that awaited him in the corner.
Matthew sat in the corner of the sad makeshift medical section of the trenches, his back firm against the cold, damp wall.
His once-piercing blue-grey eyes were now clouded over with milky white cataracts, rendering him completely blind. The newly used gas had stolen his sight. His skin, once tanned and healthy, now bore the sickly pallor of a much older man who had endured unimaginable suffering.
Matthew's uniform, discarded in favour of his worn down undershirt, was now a tattered and stained relic of his time in the trenches. The not-white-anymore shirt clung to his emaciated frame as if decency still mattered in hell. The physical toll of the war was clear on his body. Not that Matthew would have to worry about seeing that any time soon. His hands, which had once held a rifle with resolve, now trembled even while resting on his thighs.
Despite his physical and emotional anguish, Matthew remained seated upright, his back pressed against the unforgiving, stained wall. A testament to his resilience if there was any left, a silent protest against the horrors that had taken his sight and left him broken in body and spirit.
As he sat there, his spirit reduced to a hollow shell, Matthew's face bore a mixed expression of utter defeat and complete indifference. His lips were drawn into a thin, lifeless line, and his cheeks were gaunt from the weight of his suffering. His blank, unseeing eyes stared into the abyss, as if waiting for answers and also hoping they'd never arrive.
In that moment, Matthew was not a representation of Canada; he was a young man who had been scarred and broken by the senseless brutality of war. The trenches around him buzzed with activity, but he remained isolated in his silent world of darkness and despair. The young medics job was done. He had patched Matthew up and left him to his own misery. Matthew was grateful.
Arthur stood there silently under the doorframe for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. A strange and unfamiliar twinge of emotion plucked and pulled on his conscience. He hadn't felt guilt in quite some time. This feeling was reserved for drunken nights spent in solitude with the doors to the room he resided in firmly locked so that his sliver of self-deprecating emotion wasn't witnessed by any but himself, while he drunk himself to unconsciousness.
He preferred the emotional solitude to this.
Arthur had believed himself to be capable of most things. Especially conversation and confrontation. He was quite good at those as centuries of existence had proved. He believed himself quite skilful with words. Most of the time he knew what to say and when to say it without it resulting in unwanted and unforeseen consequences, while still making sure his opinion was heard.
Arthur had no words forming as he stood in that doorframe. If Arthur was a good man, his reasoning would be that he felt such strong empathy and sadness that words wouldn't be enough to express the sorrow he felt at that moment. If Arthur was a good man he'd run to his son, assure him that this wouldn't happen ever again and that he was safe. If Arthur was a good man he would fall on his knees in front of his oldest son and beg for forgiveness.
Arthur wasn't a good man.
He could admit to his shortcomings, but to act on them was not in his nature.
So he stood there for another 5 or 6 minutes watching his son shallowly breathe in and out, hearing the boys lungs struggle to keep up with his muscles contraction and need for air.
He must have made a noise, as Matthew's head tilted slightly to the left, almost looking at Arthur but definitely not seeing him. Arthur looked back at him.
The room was quiet, save for the desperate plea of Matthews lungs to be put out of their misery.
Sensing nothing after a few moments, Matthew turned his head back towards the blank wall ahead.
Arthur silently turned his frame around and slowly started walking the path he had taken to get here. As he took a few steps, he released the breath he didn't know he was holding.
How he longed for that whiskey bottle and that dark room where he could lock himself in and slowly drift out of consciousness instead of facing his own mistakes.
Arthur definitely was not a good man.
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bonebuckets · 2 months ago
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you know what. I’m just gonna say it. now that I know I have support, The Silt Verses IS the best recent audio drama out there.
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fakakta-art · 2 years ago
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FINALLY got a new laptop after mine shit the bed, anyways i've been thinking of this post the entire time waiting to draw it.
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amaranthdahlia · 2 months ago
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crack au idea where afo reincarnates as kudoichi's baby (in a no quirks au too)
bonus doodle:
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(theyre best friends :])
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shkika · 1 year ago
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3am jams
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starry-bi-sky · 2 months ago
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danny and officer martinez's relationship in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" in a nutshell:
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Martinez: FREAK! GET YOUR FUCKING KID!
Battinson, on the other side of the crime scene: he don't bite
Martinez, with Nightingale firmly attached his arm, visibly biting him: YES HE DO!
*points at them* Danny is the Bugs Bunny to Martinez's Elmer Fudd.
Another Officer: i can't believe you're fighting with an actual twelve year old. Martinez: i swear to god that is not a twelve year old, that is a little hellion that crawled out of batman's shadow one dark and stormy night and decided to dedicate his existence to tormenting me. Officer: Are you really that mad about him putting a sticky note on your back-- Martinez: thats not the point
in danny's defense: the word "freak" is. a mini beserker button for him for.... obvious ghostly reasons, so like, even if its not directed at him, he still very much unappreciates Martinez's insults at Battinson. Danny may or may not be projecting.
he's not going to hurt the guy! not in any serious or permanently disfiguring way at least! But he is going to leave mean sticky notes on the square part of his spine that he can't reach, and stick salt in his 3AM Late Night Crime Scene Coffee, and kick the bottom of his heel while he's walking so he stumbles. And other petty, infuriating things that tally up and boil over, over time.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#blood blossom au#dpxdc memes#dpxdc au#the only thing martinez is right about is the fact that danny is. in fact. NOT twelve.#he's just shrimpy because he's half-dead#there's eventually a 'martinez vs nightingale' board in the precinct called the beef board. it tallies every time one of them gets got by#the other. danny is currently in the lead by a wide margin. martinez is very limited in what he can do bc of multiple reasons. but one#of them is the fact that batman HAS punched a cop before. three actually. and he won't hesitate to punch another if martinez actually did#anything to harm nightingale. and also nightingale shows up so rarely and doesnt stick around long enough for martinez to retaliate#or properly plan ahead. its kinda a wild card whether or not nightingale pops up on the scene.#nightingale: i am just a little guy!! the littlest of boy!! baddabing-baddaboom! you wouldn't do nothin to a little guy would'ya?#battinson who atp knows full well that if it werent for the blood blossom danny could turn martinez into a red smear: *would you?*#danny: if it werent for the laws of this land i would have committed acts of violence against You Specifically :)#and also like. every single other officer insulting batman and callin him a freak. they're not safe either martinez is just the poor sucker#that i have a name to give the face to#danny's a good kid but also i don't picture him totally.. hm... mentally stable? he's a little spicy. as a treat.#he's kind at his core but also he found his family's corpses and was isolated from society for 4 months by his abusive godfather and was#poisoned with quite literally the only toxin capable of destroying him entirely and can no longer (currently) use his powers without dying#instantly. so he's! he's doing his best! like between being chaotic and being kind he's def gonna choose being kind but also.#he's living on borrowed time and is in a constant active state of being slowly eaten alive by his own bloodstream. it weighs on ya psyche#danny's barely even processed his family's death and now he's got all this other trauma stacked on top to address. he is Windows EXP rn#tormenting martinez is just. an itty bitty way he can let loose some of the stress he's ignoring.#considering danny's alternate timeline was: world annihilation. he thinks he's doing pretty well all things considered
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hughmanbean · 10 months ago
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Under the Cover of Knight
The High Queen Phantom and her two heirs are doing quite splendidly, so Fright Knight thinks. But he realizes that suitors must soon be screened, even if unwillingly.
Though before, this had been done by specifically trained ghosts, Pariah's tendencys had undone that. Therefore, it was up to him, as the royal family's guard.
He may not be able to create a mortal disguise, but he was nothing if not determined. So Fright Knight sets out to find Lady Gotham, who is delighted to let him stay and search for the potential suitors of the royal family. She wishes him the best of luck!
After proudly announcing his presence to two mortals in an alley, he now had two new workers in his search for the suitors.
He attempts to test many of the prominent mortals and liminals he comes across, though it usually results in being obscured or outright attacked.
Fright Knight sits on the floor of an abandoned house, deep in thought, his numerous soldiers in search working around him. Harold Devita has bought hotdogs.
Perhaps, Fright Knight should not be upfront. Perhaps, he could employ some trickery. Knight he may be, but Halloween is the day of tricks, after all.
Yes, this will work quite nicely. The royal family will be most pleased! No thank you, Harold Devita. I am already full of triumph. This plan cannot possibly fail.
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stellamancer · 1 year ago
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limitless (satoru gojo x reader)
notes: uh. should be working on my halloween fic lmaoo. but uh. thought i'd bang this out. inspired by a conversation with @shotorus about the names we use to refer to certain characters in narration. lmao.
contains: fem! reader (the only physical trait is that reader is shorter than gojo, gojo almost uses a gendered term for reader, but is cut off), established relationship (me: coughs up blood), typical gojo antics, nickname usage (darling, honey, sweetheart, babe), part of the infinite loop fic verse
wc: around 720
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"...I have a question."
You look at Gojo expectantly. Normally, he just says whatever is on his mind without pause, without filter, so you don't get why he's standing on ceremony right now. "Yeah?"
"We're dating, aren't we?" he asks.
You nearly spit out your drink. He's not wrong; for better or worse, he is your boyfriend now. The fact of it is actually kind of unbelievable when you think about it. Not just you dating Satoru Gojo. But you dating Satoru Gojo. If you had told yourself that it would have come to this ten years ago, even five years ago, you would have thought yourself a liar.
Now he's the one giving you the expectant look, his lips curved upward that little smile that always manages to get your blood boiling. The cocky bastard probably just wants you to admit it.
You consider saying 'no' just for the hell of it.
You decide not to. It feels almost as if you’re pulling teeth when you respond, “...we…are.”
Gojo’s mouth puckers and you brace yourself knowing full well that he’s about to start whining about something. There’s always something with this guy…"If we’re dating, then why am I still just 'Gojo' to you? I call you by your first name!"
"You've always called me by my first name," you dead pan.
"That's because I've always loved you!"
You roll your eyes. You know that's a lie, but you don't intend to argue with him— at least not head on because you know that it’s just going to lead to a dead end. "No, you love disregarding proper social etiquette. Or rather, you don't see the point in it."
"Oh, darling, you know me so well!" Gojo gives you a saccharine smile and you almost gag.
"Don't call me that."
He pouts. "Well, if you say I always call you by name, shouldn't I call you something else to show how special you are to me?"
"...no, actually, just my name is fine." A nickname from Gojo sounds dangerous. The thought of being called some cutesy nickname in front of everyone you know is mortifying. In fact, Gojo would do it solely to embarrass you.
So, naturally, he ignores you. "If darling is no good, what about... babe? Honey?"
"Gojo, really, you don't—"
"Sweetheart? My love? Oh, I know, I bet you'd love to be called pr—"
"Satoru."
He immediately stops talking, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. You didn't think that that would have that much of an effect to be honest. For once, it feels like you have the upper hand. You make sure to savor the moment because you know they are far and few in between.
"Just my name is fine," you repeat. "...okay?"
He gulps and answers, "...okay."
You try not to let your mind linger on the fact that his voice just now was lower than usual. "Good. So—"
"Say it again."
You blink. "Huh."
"My name," Gojo says, his voice thick with emotion. "Say it again."
When you don't say anything he takes a step toward you, the infinite cosmos in his eyes staring you down. You feel defiant. It's not fair of him to ask you anything when he looks and sounds like this. Gojo takes another step closer and you think that if you're adamant about not giving in to him you better do it before he gets too close.
"You've... " you start and hate how breathless you sound. This bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to you. "You've hit your daily limit."
Gojo pouts and takes another step. "Well, that's not fair."
"You're not fair," you retort.
He doesn't argue and you take that as Gojo admitting that he's playing dirty. "I think you should up the limit."
You hold your ground as he takes one more step closer.. "No. You think there shouldn't be a limit."
Gojo chuckles and leans down to bridge the rest of the distance between you. He cups your cheek, bringing your face closer to him. Your breath stills as you feel his own on you and it’s damn near intoxicating. His mouth is barely touching yours and your thoughts shift from trying to keep the banter going to how the slightest movement from either of you will result in a kiss.
“You’re right,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours. “There shouldn’t.”
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