#so many birthdays! lol

[karoiseka]

Happy Birthday @blackestnight !!! Hope you're having an awesome day! ^_^

[beaulesbian]

👒"If we fight the Navy together now, you'll be a Government-defying villain! Would you prefer that or being killed like this?" ⚔️"What are you, the devil's son?! Well, whatever. I will be your pirate, if I'm just gonna die here instead!"

[greywoe]

"The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen."

[caedi]

[251023] happy birthday lee know!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

hal you’re NINETEEN? you’re NINETEEN and writing the fucking ILIAD of FANFIC? have you been visited by god?? been given a divine typewriter??? achieved nirvana???? you’re SO TALENTED holy shit !!!!

Lmao - a divine typewriter would be absolutely amazing to own, tbh, but unfortunately I don't have one of those quite yet. But thank you! That's so kind of you to say <3<3

[fiendishartist2]

happy birthday care and paul

[omaano]

I wish I had pushed the angle on this one a little more to match what I'd imagined for this scene from the end of chapter 14 of Mand'alor Cabur by @nautilicious but at this point stubborness has kicked in and I've dug in my heals so this is what I'm working with! In other news I've picked my birthday project for this year, and in my post-vacation optimism I see a chance to get this at least to a lines-and-flats (and maybe even some lighting???) stage by the end of next week, which would be very great for me! That is if the green background doesn't completely sabotage me in the process...

[secretsimpleness]

Fan service.

Shepard (custom), Liara / Mass Effect (c) Bioware

[emblazons]

“I’m stealthy, like a ninja.”

@kingofscoops 30th Birthday Bash day five: skill: free space // color: free space concept: Steve, the "King of Scoops"

[skullsandcorals]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @tomura-nii 🥳🎉🎉✨✨✨ I love you so much 💜💞💜

I hope you enjoy whatever I managed to put together ✌️💀

click for better quality if you're on the mobile app. don't repost.

[twitteringthings]

On this day many years ago a twittering bird was born (yours truly), and that bird will not stop twittering about things related to Saezuru Tori Wa Habatakanai <3

I love this this fandom and cannot wait to see everyone’s reaction to the new chapter :)))))

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 10: Human Shield

Ao3

CW for blood and injury

————————————-

It is raining. A torrent of water cascades down from the sky, soaking Warriors and plastering his tunic to his skin. The fierce winds whip his hair into his eyes, washes the ground out from beneath his feet. Fighting in such conditions is…less than enjoyable to be certain.

But such is the way of heroism, he supposes. If you come across a heavily populated monster camp, you can’t very well just turn around and walk away. Even if it is raining bokos and keese.

“I’m gonna assume,” he remarks, as he drives his sword into a nearby moblin and almost slips in the mud, “that this isn’t your doing Sprite.”

He can’t see Time’s expression — the old man is busy slashing at the handful of beasts currently trying to cage him in — but he can tell that he’s grinning anyway.

“Not this time, no.” Time whirls in a spin attack, sending monsters and mud and water flying in all directions. “Believe me, if the Song of Storms had the power to end this downpour, then I wouldn’t hesitate to play it.”

Warriors chuckles. “And here I was thinking you liked the rain.”

“I do when I don’t have to fight an entire camp of monsters in it.”

Warriors laughs again, bringing his sword in a harsh, upward stroke. Black blood flies, splattering into the makeshift river sprouting into being beneath his feet. Quick as a flash, it is washed away.

The feeling of victory is short-lived. Several more monsters jog up to take their fallen companion’s place. Warriors steps back, shifting his feet to get a better grip on the ground. They come at him and he whirls in his own imitation of Time’s move mere seconds before.

“Well, if this is what it takes to get you back for all those times you drenched me for no reason besides your own gremlin joy…then I’ll deal.”

Time faces him from across the space that separates them. Raindrops drip from his hair and run in rivulets down his face. They wash away the blood dribbling sluggishly from a cut across his forehead. They can do little, however, for that which stains his trousers right above his boot. Nor can they rinse off the mud that sullies his usually spotless armor.

But he smiles as though none of that matters. And for a moment Warriors sees a mischievous little forest child, grinning up at him as he complains about his latest prank.

“Truly?” He cocks his head, brings his claymore down with hardly any effort, and sends ten monsters soaring. “You would endure this just to get back at me? And for something that I allegedly did years ago? I never took you for a petty person, captain.”

Warriors rolls his eyes. He is traveling even deeper into the camp now, cutting down the monsters that try to get in his way. There is a cluster of them in the middle of the encampment, gathered around a skeletal treasure chest. He’s willing to bet that killing them will make the largest impact.

“I’m not being petty, Sprite. I’m defending my honor.”

“Ah. My bad.”

Time’s voice has a lilting tone, mischievous and slightly mocking. It has been too long since Warriors heard it. Too long since he has seen the child hidden deep within the man trying to be the responsible one in their little group. The leader.

“Well, is your honor suitably — ”

He cuts off abruptly and Warriors cranes his neck in an attempt to ascertain the disturbance. It’s difficult to see over the many heads of his opponents, however, and even more so through the torrent of murky water.

In the end, he doesn’t have to see a thing to realize something is coming. Something large and metallic and decidedly different from the beasts they have battled thus far.

A fast, panicked tune sounds in Warriors’ ears, alarm bells jingling like the notes on a piano.

The monsters surrounding him skitter out of the way, shrieking in fear. In the space that they have left shines a blurry, crimson light. It emanates from a single eye of purest blue, situated in the cylinder-shaped head of a skulltula-like monstrosity.

And it is pointed straight at him.

The air itself begins to heat, turning cool rain lukewarm. Warriors’ eyes go wide.

There isn’t time to run, there isn’t room to run, but he needs to try anyway, he needs to get away…

Arms working without conscious effort, he lifts his shield and prays that it will be enough.

“Captain!”

Firm hands connect with his shoulder. Warriors stumbles sideways, slips, and splashes down into the mud. Heart in his throat, thoughts a jumbled mess of adrenaline and panic signals, he scrambles to all fours.

Only to collapse again mere seconds later when the world erupts.

Crimson light blinds him, molten heat smothers him. The air is thick with it, screaming with the agony of it.

Or maybe someone else is screaming. He can’t tell. All he knows is that he can’t breathe, can’t hear, can’t see anything save for the cries of destruction.

Again and again, the monstrosity fires. Again and again, heat batters at all sides, yet somehow doesn’t touch him.

And then, it’s over.

Warriors can only lie there for a moment, ears ringing, breath coming in ragged gasps. Slowly, painstakingly, the world crawls back into focus.

Carnage lies everywhere. Every monster has disappeared, either escaped into the forest or lying in the dirt. The gore that they have left behind peppers the area. Trees and bits of rock are strewn about, shedding leaves, branches, and pebbles into the rivers of mud. The towers that the beasts had stood upon are no longer the stalwart things they once were. Some are only half standing, others little more than shattered pieces of wood.

And in the midst of it all crouches the smoldering form of the mechanical skulltula that had borne down upon them so quickly. Beside it, lies another of the same build and same size. The lights on that one have just begun to flicker out.

Dazedly, Warriors stares at them from within a strange veil of blue. Then, slowly his gaze drifts to the hero that rises before them.

Time stands straight and tall amongst a river of mud and gore. In one hand he clutches his gilded sword in a white-knuckled grip; in the other his shield. Cracks snake along the pearly silver surface.

Water runs off of what is left of his armor, soaking into his tunic and trousers where the plates have been blown away. Blood oozes from a cluster of deep cuts speckling his upper back. More of the same type mar his left leg and hip.

His shoulders rise and fall with every haggard, gasping breath.

“Sprite?” Warriors croaks and Time turns to him.

He smiles, even as blood trickles from his nostrils and mouth and the gash on his cheek. Even as he wavers.

“Alright, captain?” He croaks, right before his legs give way beneath him.

Instantly, Warriors is on his feet. The haze of shimmering cerulean fades as he stumbles up, leaving behind remnants of an oddly familiar magic.

But he doesn’t have time to ponder that mystery.

He slides to his knees in the mud and pulls Time into his arms. The hero slumps against him. Quickly, Warriors looks over him, assessing the wounds that he can see.

The gashes he had seen before are claw marks, he realizes now, as though a giant beast had tried to pin him to the ground. And the burns searing his arm and side look disturbingly similar to Wild’s scars.

Warriors drags in a steadying breath. Time needs a potion at the very least. Preferably a fairy.

They have neither.

“Sprite.” His voice is oddly detached. To his ears, it sounds as though it is traveling from very far away. “What was that?”

Time’s eyelid flutters, showing a slit of blue. Raindrops roll down his cheeks like tears.

“Nayru’s love,” he croaks, and a smile quirks his lips. “Takes an a-awful lot of damage.”

Warriors’ eyes widen slightly as it hits him.

A spell. That blue haze that had shielded him from the onslaught of fire was a spell. One that Time had cast on him and not himself.

“Someone had to kill them,” comes Time’s quiet voice, raspy with pain. “And I didn’t have enough magic to cover the both of us.”

Warriors looks back down at him and there is no remorse in his gaze. Only calm acceptance.

The captain wants nothing to do with it.

“Well, I’m not losing you,” he grits out. “You deserve to go out in a warm bed, in a warm house, when you’re ancient and insufferable. Not like this. Not here.”

Not because you sacrificed yourself for me.

Time’s hand finds his and squeezes. His fingers are frigid, wet with water and blood. But his touch is firm despite the weakness caging him in. Firm and reassuring.

“You s-sure you can handle me when I’m ancient and insufferable?” He murmurs and Warriors chokes out a chuckle.

“You can bet on it, Sprite.”

He drags himself up, slipping in the cursed sludge that the ground has become. But he manages to gain a steady enough footing. And when he drapes Time’s arm over his shoulders, he is able to take the older man’s weight without losing his balance.

“I’m going to get you back to camp,” he assures him, as Time lets out a low groan, eye slipping closed once more. “My medical supplies are there and I’ve got a few potions. Hyrule can heal you if we need him to, as well.”

Time nods. Warriors tightens his grip. And slowly, arduously, they begin their journey.

[naturecalls111]

on liking girls

[kitas-cleaning-supplies]

Kiyoomi scrunches her nose. She’ll never get Motoya’s obsession with plants. It was fine when it was just succulents, those are easy enough to take care of, but flowers fucking reek. It’s not a bad smell per say, but it’s stupidly strong in this shop, even with her mask up.

They’re pretty at least, she’ll give them that.

She’s debating between the pretty blue flowers and the silly, warm yellow ones. Motoya should have never trusted her judgment, how’s she supposed to resist the urge to tease her for always being in a yellow coloured team? At least Kiyoomi can say she’s escaped it in the Black Jackals cause gold isn’t yellow.

“Is there anythin’ I can help you with?” A pretty blonde girl in a red apron asks. Kiyoomi nearly jumps out of her skin, where’d she come from?

“Um, can I get these?” Kiyoomi points at the two, ready to bolt out of here because Employee Girl is way too gorgeous for her to not make a fool out of herself. Her palms are sweaty and she’s so grateful her mask is covering half her face.

The girl leans in way too close to Kiyoomi’s space and reads the labels, “Cornflower and fressia? I can put them together for you but d’you wanna check out the white freesia’s instead? They’d be real pretty together.”

“Yeah, sure.” Kiyoomi could be asked for her credit card information right now and she’d hand it over no questions asked. What did she ask her for again?

“Great, they’re over this way.” Employee Girl walks away and what else is Kiyoomi supposed to do but follow?

The flowers they stop at all look the same to Kiyoomi but she holds her breath as the girl talks about a few different ones, pointing them out and saying stuff about how pretty things look prettier together. Her name tag reads “Miya O.” A pretty name for a pretty girl. She wonders what the O stands for.

“That sound good?”

Kiyoomi nods, Miya’s voice sounds great in fact.

“Well you’re in luck! We finished our orders for today so I can put it together for ya right now but please submit a request a few days in advance next time. We’re pretty busy during the afternoon so ya picked a decent time to come in.”

Miya picks a few different flowers and the blue ones from before – the cornflowers – and heads to the back. Kiyoomi wants to protest but she’s just a customer and Miya’s an employee doing her job.

Miya peeps her head out after closing the door. She bites her lip before calling out, “Can I ask ya for a favour?”

“Uh, sure.”

“If ya see a girl with my face try an’ clock in, tell her she’s s’pposed to be in bed right now. My sister’s a bit of a workaholic, I stole her name tag this mornin’ for her own good.”

She assumes Miya means that she’s a twin but that’s not fair to her at all. She’s just a girl. Kiyoomi only hopes she won’t have to see the two of them together. One pretty girl’s bad enough for her heart as is.

The time passes by in a blur. At one point she’s keeping a vague eye out for Miya’s clone to walk in while looking at the different flowers; the next she’s being given her bouquet, paying for it, and waving bye to the prettiest girl in the world.

Oh well, it’s not like she’s the main character in a yuri manga.

Kiyoomi drops off the flowers at Motoya’s. She’s supposedly too busy taking care of her sick girlfriends to make the trip herself. Kiyoomi wonders if that excuse is just bullshit since it’s been months and she’s still not met Osamu and Rin yet. Unfortunately, Motoya’s apartment’s stuffy and reeks of sickness so maybe there’s some truth to Motoya’s words.

Maybe.

“You got the flowers?” Motoya closes her room door behind her, thankfully right before a loud sneeze is released by one of her definitely real girlfriends. Well there goes that bet Kiyoomi had going with Yachi.

“Yeah, I still don’t get why you can’t have a normal hobby. These things die in like, a week.”

Motoya fusses over the flowers for a bit, making them nice and pretty in a clean vase that held her last bouquet. “One, Samu gets all blushy when I give her flowers and two, I just like them. It’s low stakes responsibility that forces me to have my shit together.”

Kiyoomi snorts. Motoya’s always had her shit together, even if it looks like a mess on the outside. Her cousin is one of the most ruthlessly competent people she knows.

“Hey Kiyo, where’d you get these by the way?” Motoya asks cutting the store tag off a stem.

“Doesn’t it say there?” Kiyoomi asks. “Miya’s Boutique I think.”

“Well whichever employee rang you up left you a little something.” Motoya tosses the label to her with a smug little smirk.

Kiyoomi wants to shove her hand into her face to wipe it off but Motoya would lick her first and she doesn’t want to think about where her tongue’s been, sick partners or not.

She takes a look at the what Motoya meant and pretends like the name and numbers aren’t sending a rush of blood straight to her face. She carefully tucks it into a pocket while maintaining eye contact with her menace of a cousin. Motoya can smell the smallest twinge of embarrassment in a crowd and she is not to be trusted to mind her own business.

She laughs at nothing, like the airhead Kiyoomi’s always known her to be, but there’s something unsettling in the knowing glint in her eyes. Kiyoomi firmly ignores it: if it isn’t acknowledged, it isn’t real.

“Oh this is killing me, Kiyo you’ve gotta come over next week. Please I think I’ll die.” Motoya abandons her flowers in favour of hanging off of her arm and giving her stupid puppy eyes. “You can bring whoever left you their number. Actually, please bring them, you’ve gotta.”

Fuck, how’s Kiyoomi supposed to say no to her puppy eyes.

“Fine, but fat chance I bring her over.”

Motoya sniffs hautily, like Kiyoomi’s doing her a great disservice. “You’ll regret it.”

“Doubt it,” Kiyoomi sighs, hoping future-her doesn’t give in to Motoya’s ridiculous demands.

She leaves with a halfhearted wave, feeling preemptive disappointment in herself because she knows Motoya’s not going to let her go so easily. Whatever. She’s got better things to spend her energy on.

How many i's in a “hi” is too desperate to send?

[brainrotgoverner]

HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE OF THE INTERNET!!!!!! I AM FINALLY BACK!!!!!! I am SO SORRY that I made you guys worry and extremely grateful for the people who now I saw kept trying to check up on me 🙏 I don't want to share too many details (and also I get upset when I think about it too hard so I'll try to keep this lighthearted) but seems like the aO3 writer curse caught up to me XD

I got hospitalized 🥲

BUT I AM BETTER NOW AND CAN ACTUALLY USE A PHONE SO YOU KNOW IT STRAIGHT BCAK TO CINDERELLA BOY WITH MY FAVORITE MALL GOTH 💗💗💗💗💗

SO-

[softerhaze]

how did i spend the afternoon on my mental health day?? well....u see...