#<- he's there as an arm blob lol

[cheebuss]

SNIPER TF2 TEETH ‼️‼️

Communal ask from like a month ago but fashionably late is how I roll

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Estrella Damm: don't drink and run

Contents: general dumbassery, cursing, slight sexual language, violence, lots of cursing, wrote this high so idk if this even makes sense, I'll reread it and let you know whether its bs lol

It’s the same scene again. 

Three guys are circling you, laughing so irritatingly, and you’re just sitting there, doing your very best to shrug them off. The park is empty, it usually is at 3pm and especially these days with the nippy weather. Whenever Gojo strolls along the place to get to campus, he sees you resting on a bench, watching the tree branches sway above the pond. 

You’re hard to miss. 

A mass of black like an omen amongst the peace of nature, a blob of ink on a Monet, and he sees you everywhere. It’s funny, he thinks, how prior to the announcement of the engagement during the summer, he had never seen you on campus before. 

He can’t fathom how it was possible that he missed you. You stand out so badly, all eyes are on you everywhere you go. What with your lace frocks, thick platform boots, and terrifying piercings. 

You’re rolling your eyes at the lanky guy in front of you, thin lips curling over yellow teeth to snarl insipid insults that the other two chortle at. You just wanted a peaceful break in between your lectures, to take in the fresh autumn air, and watch people pass. But then again the universe has never really liked you. That became abundantly clear when your parents threw the news at you.

Was Nietzsche right?

So now you’re stuck watching disgusting idiots pick up a layer of your dress, mocking the fabric as if it’s something cheap. Little do they know.

“Where’s the funeral, hot stuff?”

You cringe. It’s the repulsive roll of his tongue, the way he flashes you a grin as if he’s such a catch and you should be happy he’s giving you any kind of attention. He probably thinks of himself as something akin to a wolf, wild and feral in the sexiest way, but from where you’re sitting, he more closely resembles a rabid hyena, slobbering all over itself. 

His breath surely smells like it too. 

Exasperated, you stand, snatching your dress from their grimy hands and sneer, “Don’t touch me, you ugly trolls.”

They don’t like that. 

Just as you’re stepping away, someone grabs your hair with a harsh pull and you gasp, tears brimming in your eyes from the burn on your scalp. Whoever has your hair drags you back to him, his face too close to yours, and you can see every pore, every hair, and you resist the urge to gag at the feeling of his breath skimming your skin. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, you prissy little pri—“ 

Before he can finish his sentence, a hand is gripping his wrist, wrestling it back at an awkward angle, forcing his body to follow suit. He yelps and you stumble back on the bench, rubbing at your head. 

Your heartbeat is galloping like crazy, air robbed from your lungs and you’re rearing back to see a white-haired man looming over all of you with a menacing grin.

Gojo looks terrifying. 

A shiver claws up your spine, fear prickling your skin, and it feels as if the park had just become colder, dropping into the negatives. There’s something devoid of light in his eyes and it knocks you off balance. You’re dazed and his withering look full of disdain and contempt isn’t even targeted towards you.

"You guys again?"

The sheer revulsion, the abhorrence and loathing seeping through his words creates a flurry of shame through you all. You see it in the flush that reddens one’s guys face, and in the deep gulp the second one makes. It’s as if you’ve committed a fundamental wrong, like the whole affair was an abomination that he had happened to stumble upon.

He’s still twisting the guy’s arm back and ignoring the broken moans coming from him, choosing instead to direct his ice cold stare at the other two guys. They stand uneasily, glancing between each other as if deciding what to do. Seeing the resolve in the newcomer’s eyes, and the promise of pain, they grab at their friend and hastily walk away, not sparing a glance back. 

Not even at you, like you were never there to begin with. 

Huffing, you stand up, brushing imaginary dirt from the skirt of your dress and muttering a reluctant ‘thanks’ to Gojo. He’s studying you, sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge so he can look at you over them. 

What kind of idiot wears sunglasses when there's no sun?

He doesn’t say a word and you begin to feel uncertain. 

The man before you is a mystery. You don’t know what he’s thinking. One minute he hates you and has declared you public enemy number one and the next he’s defending you from slimy perverts.

What is wrong with him?

Sure, you’re glad he didn’t just leave you to fend for yourself but you also wish he just left as soon as he came so you wouldn't have to deal with the awkward aftermath. Now, you’re left staring at him waiting for a stupid comment to come. 

But it doesn’t. 

“Got something to say?”

Your voice is snarky, but wavers just ever so slightly, the effects of the shock still coursing your veins. Gojo doesn’t flinch, he just shrugs and gives you one final look over, before he’s stalking off, long legs carrying him away like he was just strolling past to begin with. 

One step for him is like three for you. 

You begin walking too. And you scowl when he looks back at you over his shoulder, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, swinging his crazy long legs like a giraffe.

Why does he walk like that?

“You following me?” 

His tone is so disgustingly arrogant you feel a sudden urge to whack him over the head with your boots. But you don’t. Because your boots are limited edition and much too pretty to scuff up with his ugly face.

Not to mention your parents would kill you, and so would his, probably. And maybe even the entire campus. 

Because according to the 'Bulletin' and this so called ‘List’ Gojo introduced you to, your fiancé is apparently the most beloved man in EdenU. Known for being friendly, approachable, charitable and charismatic, everyone either wants to be friends with Gojo, date Gojo or be Gojo. 

Having read every single piece written by some girl with poor tastes in men, clearly, you realise that there must be something wrong with the entire student population-- and even the staff, if the blushing some lecturers do when he passes is anything to go by. There are direct quotes from people detailing first-hand experiences with Gojo’s ‘kindness’, with how he took the time out of his day to give directions, helped an old lady cross the street, claps at the end of lectures as an expression of gratitude.

Classic bourgeoisie propaganda.

How could anyone consider him as a) a good guy, and b) a hot one?

That question has been bothering you for about a week now. And it continues to do so as he looks at you like you're bothering him.

You speed walk, pumping your legs as hard as you can so you can glide by him. Who’s following who now?

It’s petty, you know that. But for whatever reason, the guy just brings out that bitter child inside of you, the one that wants to be mean, to spit back as good as you get, and to put him in his place. 

Because clearly, the campus gossip has gotten to his head. 

You hear him scoff before he starts speed-walking beside you. It looks effortless on him. What a prick. 

His jacket brushes against you and you recoil, aghast that his bacteria touched you. With a new wave of determination, you begin jogging. It’s the most exercise you’ve gotten in years but it’s so worth it to see him jog as well. 

“Give it up, I’m way faster than you.”

Wordlessly, you jog a little faster every time he does.

“Surprised to see you sober enough to walk in a park,” you voiced with a taunting tone.

Gojo retorts, just as quick, “And I’m surprised you’re out in broad daylight.”

Dodging fallen branches and puddles, you leap and clutch your dress, lifting the thick skirt so your legs can push and push. There is no way you'll lose to the likes of him. You just need to reach the park edge, where grass meets concrete, and once you pass it, you'll claim victory.

Huffing, you barb, “I’m sure you like the weather just fine, right, Periwinkle?”

He snorts. “That must make you Vidia.”

“She’s hot so I’ll take that.”

Throwing you a side glance, he rolls his eyes and maintained, with a singsong voice, “Silvermist is hotter.”

Eventually, you’re both running through the park, overtaking each other in a give and take, and you grin every time you get the best of him by cutting corners. You know this park like the back of your hand. The cool wind doesn’t even register on your skin, adrenaline urging you forward, winding along the path and dodging bystanders who look on with half confusion and half amusement. 

This is probably the most excitement this park has seen in years.

Gojo doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. 

"Move, you're in my way, Eric Draven," he jab, not even slightly breath.

You sneer.

"No, you're in my way, Johnny Bravo."

You screech when a sudden force knocks you into a hedge. Sharp twigs poke at you, you struggle to gain footing against the mud, and you flail your arms. Your hair is caught, so is the lace of your dress, like a moth trapped in a spiderweb.

The motherfucker shoved you.

He actually shoved you.

Gojo's staring, with his mouth gaping, at his hand and then at you and then back to his hand, like he didn't mean to push you, like his body just moved on its own. And you see him take a step, hands stretching out to reach for you.

The fucking dick is so childish you don’t feel any guilt when you grab him by his jacket and yank. He falls with laugh like he had been anticipating your revenge, a light and airy sort of chortle, so childlike and youthful it almost makes you smile. Almost, because then you're both going quiet when he lands on top of you. 

That wasn't very well thought out.

You’re both angled slightly back on the thick hedge, so out of breath, the tiny branches prick at you both, leaves no doubt catching on your dress. Gojo’s holding his body weight, trying to find his footing on the wet grass but struggling to press his hands on anywhere concrete. Your legs are tangled, hips pinned to each other, and your hands are clinging to his jacket so you don’t fall deeper. 

“Woah,” he breathes out, panting slightly, “you want me this badly?”

Your frown deepens until you’re sure your lips will stay stuck in that position. He really just can’t help himself. It’s like it’s in his DNA to say something stupidly arrogant just to avoid the silence. With a grunt, you try to push him off you, feet kicking. The fucker is heavy. And he doesn’t even look like he’s trying. 

Gojo smells clean and you hate it. He smells like fresh laundry and sea salt and fluffy clouds. With every movement you make against each other, you become more aware of his broad shoulders and narrow hips. It’s like he’s got a sleeper build. His chest is firm beneath your palms and  your face is buried in his neck, feeling his Adam’s apple bob. 

“Move, fat ass,” you say through gritted teeth. 

He makes a sound of indignation, “Fat ass? Me? How dare you! I don't calorie count for nothing.”

Always fucking joking, the little shit.

You shove at his chest. “Move, Gojo, I swear to God.”

"Yeah, yeah. I'm trying," he huffs and puffs, clambering away, and then he adds, like he just cannot fucking help himself, "Siouxsie Sioux."

With awkward shuffles and uncomfortable twists and turns, you both manage to free yourselves. There’s a blush on both of your faces, yours is certainly from anger, raging at the sudden turn of events and the sheer humiliation at falling, and ashamed that you had stooped to his level and raced him, like a toddler. 

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You were raised better. For goodness sake, your mother would keel over and die if she saw you sprinting in a park, almost pushing an old lady out of the way just to beat your fiancé. God, you hate calling him that.

And you hate to admit even more that you might have actually enjoyed it.

Catharsis, that’s all it was.

Just a physical and mental need to let out the pressure building up from months of the most restrictive schedule, with the frequent dinners with stuffy guests, the constant handshaking and ass kissing, the indignity of it all.

Sometimes you wished you could be Murakami's Ice Man, maybe then you could rise above these petty emotions and let nothing bother you. But you aren’t free of your past. You’re defined by it.

Gojo isn’t meeting your eyes. He’s settled on adjusting his clothes and sunglasses, plucking leaves from his jacket, mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something. But you don’t let him. You dash past and ignore his existence, like you should have done from the beginning, and head to your lecture. 

Your hands are clenching and unclenching, neck creaking as you try to relieve the tension wound so tightly in your body you’re afraid you might combust. Everything about this is wrong. 

An engagement with Gojo is one thing, but to like the feel of his body on you, is a whole other thing. It’s stupid and it’s dangerous. Just like your mother said, emotions have no place in a marriage. You only need respect, and sometimes not even that. And as much as you hate her Machiavellian attitudes to life, you understand. You need a husband who'll mind his own business. Gojo is not that kind of man.

The guy refused to be friends, despite the many opportunities and chances you had granted him, so you won't do yourself the disservice of seeking a friendship.

You will not let the ‘hottest guy on campus’ sway you. His charming grins and arrogant comebacks will not warm your chest, and his muscular frame will definitely not haunt your dreams. There’s too much riding on this arrangement, on you. You cannot be distracted.

Man might be condemned to be free, but that doesn't apply to women. Not women like you, anyways. Thanks for nothing, Sartre.

Those are the thoughts you come away with from the encounter. 

Gojo, on the other hand, is still standing where you left him, hand rubbing his chest whilst lost in thought. His head is tilted, sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge again as he watches your retreating figure. 

It’s kinda hard to see your features through the pile of black clothing and accessories, but having been close enough to rub noses, he realised, you’re pretty. The kind of pretty that would inspire art, not that he knows much about that.

He licks his lips and he swears he can taste the sweetness of your scent lingering, and when he looks down on his chest, he also swears he felt the unmistakable sensation of small metal balls scraping at him through his thin jacket. 

A Cheshire grin pulls at the corners of his mouth. He stuffs his hands in his pockets once more and carries on walking at a leisurely pace, a slight pep in his steps gained from a victory over a game he didn’t even realise he was playing. He strolls to class with just one thought filling his mind. 

My future wifey’s got nipple piercings.

[pathologicalreid]

I'm a terrible writer but always get good ideas lmao

Idk if you've ever seen friends or not but there is this one scene where Rachel and Ross go to a sonogram appt and she has a whole breakdown cause all she saw on the sonogram was a blob and not a baby. (I'm pretty sure it was like their first appt or something idk)

I'm a sucker for dad!spence and you're one of my favorite writers for him.

Feel free to totally ignore this if this is trash lol💓

amorphous | S.R.

your first appointment goes exactly how you expected it to, but not at all how you wanted it to

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff w/ comfort content warnings: pregnancy, ultrasounds, doctors, pregnancy symptoms, emetophobia warning word count: 795 a/n: i have never seen friends but i hope that this fic does your request justice. ilysm.

You put on a brave face as you accepted your appointment card from the secretary, thanking her for her time before sliding the card into your pocket, trusting that Spencer would remember the date and time of your next appointment.

Everyone had tried to prepare you for this appointment. At eight weeks, all you were going to do was confirm that you were actually pregnant and make sure that you were measuring accurately. The internet told you that was going to happen. Spencer told you that was going to happen. Your OB told you that was going to happen.

None of that prevented the sheer disappointment you felt while leaving the obstetrician’s office. You lagged behind Spencer, taking the steps to the parking lot considerably slower than he was.

It didn’t take him long to notice, keenly aware of your every move as if he had developed a paternal superpower, your husband waited for you at the bottom of the steps. “What’s wrong?”

You opened your mouth to respond, gesturing over to the building before shrugging, “I thought it would help,” you confessed, sticking out your bottom lip in disappointment.

Spencer’s gaze softened as he ushered you off to the side and out of other people’s way. He knew you had been struggling with the lack of visibility that early pregnancy had. You hadn’t told friends and family yet, the only people who knew – aside from medical professionals – were the two of you.

“I just wanted to see it,” you mumbled, looking sheepishly to the ground. “I thought it would make it feel real.”

He nodded in understanding, using the pads of his thumbs to deftly wipe away any stray tears on your cheeks, “You saw the screen though, right?”

You thought you had been looking at the screen, but maybe you had been so distracted by the transducer that your brain hadn’t processed what you had seen. The baby hadn’t been in a good enough position for you to hear the heartbeat.

“Here,” Spencer said, setting his hands on your upper arms before guiding you over to an empty bench. Once you were sat, he dug through your purse and produced the sonogram images that you had been given.

Suspiciously, you eyed the black and white pictures that Spencer had gently set in your lap, “It just… it’s just a little white blob.”

Maintaining your attention, Spencer pointed at the picture, “Do you see this part here? That’s the head,” he dragged his finger over slightly, “There’s the body,” he showed you. Guiding you through the sonogram, showing you every part in hope that it would console you.

“I just…” you faltered, looking at the photos as you tried to see it as a baby instead of a blob, “I don’t have a bump, we couldn’t hear the heartbeat, I guess… I guess I wanted some sign that they’re okay in there.”

Crouched down in front of you, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Honey, what’s the first thing you did this morning?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I showered?”

Spencer shook his head, “Even before that, the very first thing you did this morning,” he encouraged you.

Your face warmed as your eyes flittered up to his, “I threw up.”

“And do you know what made you so sick?” He asked pointedly. Smiling timidly, you looked down at the photos with a newfound fondness, “The baby.”

He nodded, “Every morning that you wake up nauseous and every time you’re tired in the middle of the day are all little signs that they’re doing just fine.”

You sniffled slightly, wiping tears from your face with the sleeve of your sweater, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, “You probably think I’m being so dramatic.”

“I think you’re scared, and it’s okay to feel that way,” he reassured you. “We’re gonna see them again, okay? Next time we go they’ll be more than three times bigger. Our little blob will have tiny arms and legs.”

You frowned down at the pictures, still frustrated that this was all you had, “Twelve weeks feel so far away.” You had scheduled your nuchal scan for the end of next month, which felt like eons into the future.

Spencer smiled at up at you, “It’ll be here before you know it,” he told you softly, “No more tears, okay? I still have an hour before I have to go to work, did you want to get something to eat?”

Nodding softly, you put the photos back in your purse before standing up, “Yeah, maybe something with raspberries? That’s how big my phone says the baby is – the size of a raspberry.”

Tilting his head back slightly, Spencer chuckled at your proposition, “Absolutely, we’ll find the best raspberry dish in the district.”

[radiance1]

Danny "Flesh of adult, soul of child" Fenton.

I absolutely HSDjfkNSKDJFDSFJKNKS Danny's design and the colors just make it BETERERSEOFJKDFK.

Henry just wanted to help the King class ghost entity escape from containment, he did not know it would end up in his adoption and he did not agree to be taken along with for the ride in his quest to fight the Justice League.

Dude is just, constantly worked into an anxious mess because of all the stuff Danny pulls and you would think that a being who's lived for hundreds (if not longer based on the records of him found from Ancient Rome) would have the sense to maybe not fight a collection of the world's greatest heroes.

But no. Danny does this anyway, and Henry knows he's a king class level of ghost but still-

Blobson III and co has their work cut out for them in regard to their newest littlest sibling, it seems.

I finished coloring @radiance1 blob ghost king Danny, from my sketch here. :)

Henry will be fine. Probably. He just needs a minute. Blobson III and co will help, or at least try.

[jakexneytiri]

Hi, idk if ur still taking requests or not, but if u are, could u plz do a Dad Neteyam fic where reader breastfeeds their newborn for the first time in front of him

love ur work btw 💕

lots of breastfeeding requests 👁👄👁 what are you guys trying to say LOL (i’m jk hehe ofc i can. and thank you!! 💞)

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

you’re roused awake from the sounds of your son crying, along with a hand shaking your arm. you blink rapidly, as the blobs in front of you come into focus.

mo’at, who is shaking you, along with neytiri, neteyam, and your newborn. you sit up slowly, wincing as the pain in between your legs returns. it’s dull, but enough where you could feel it. neteyam’s ears fold back, guilt pooling in his stomach as he painfully watches.

giving birth hit you like a ton of bricks. it was painful, excruciating, and almost unbearable at times. you fell asleep moments after, exhaustion taking over your body. this is the first you’ve been awake since, neteyam letting you sleep for as long as you needed. he is sitting next to you, your son cradled in his arms ever so carefully.

“it is time, child.” mo’at’s voice is calm, as she motions for neteyam to hand your son off to you.

neteyam gives you an apologetic look, whispering “i’m so sorry, my love. he is hungry, grandmother says he should feed now. i’m so sorry, you can rest again right after.” he kisses your forehead, gently handing your son to you.

his small sobs broke your heart, you wanted-no, needed to help him. and fast.

you push the feathers that cover your nipple aside, exposing your left breast. a cloudy, milky substance is leaking from it, dripping down your chest. the sight takes you by surprise for a moment, it all felt…real. how you were a mother now, producing her own milk. it gave you a sense of pride, being able to provide.

neytiri’s voice snaps you away from your thoughts, as her hand carefully cradles your son’s head. “like this, y/n. hold him here,” she says, shifting your son’s head to rest in the fold of your arm. “and guide him, here.” she motions to your chest, supporting your arm as you bring your son’s head closer to your nipple.

his cries cease, when a droplet of milk falls on his tiny lips. his head turns, trying to find the source. you carefully guide his lips to your nipple, as his small lips wrap around it, immediately suckling.

a surge of concern washes over you, causing your eyes to water. you look up at your mother in law, asking “i-is this right? am i doing it right?”

neytiri smiles down at you, brushing your hair back for you. “yes, my sweet child. just like that.”

neteyam’s hand caresses your back, gently rubbing your shoulder. his eyes are wet, too. the sight was overwhelming for the both of you. officially parents, watching your son feed for the first time.

neytiri guides neteyam’s hand to support the arm cradling your son’s head. you look up at your mate, tears overflowing and spilling onto your cheeks. “he’s- he’s feeding, i’m feeding him!” you whisper, a smile spreading across your cheeks.

neteyam smiles back, leaning in to kiss your tears away. “i know, i know. you’re doing so well, my love. i’m so proud of you.”

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 11: seeing double

Totally not what this prompt meant, but I don’t care lol. I do care that I keep making Wild cry though, sorry buddy 😬

No clue if anyone cares anymore, but this has some brief age of calamity spoilers in it. Just a heads up.

Warnings: broken bone, discussed past character death

Ao3 link

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wild had two thoughts as he went plunging through the portal, the others’ frantic cries in his ears:

One, that hopefully Legend wouldn’t give him too smug of an ‘I told you so’ the next time he saw him, since Wild had entirely forgone his advice to stay away from Dark Link and was now plunging rapidly through the air. And two, well, at least I’m going to fall into the water down there.

Which he promptly did with an explosive splash.

It wasn’t so high up that he was badly hurt, but Wild was still thrown for a loop, and found himself crashing down a river with little sense of which way was up.

Water got in his mouth and he spluttered, trying to spit it out and also get his head above the surface so he could breathe. The current was fast here though, and Wild couldn’t do much except flail around like a drunk Zora.

Wait, could Zora get drunk?

He actually had no clue.

The current got suddenly faster, and Wild breathed in some water as he got smacked against the rocks, coughing and hacking as he struggled to get any air. He managed a wet gasp when his head briefly poked up, but then he was pulled under again.

Air wasn’t the only thing Wild had gotten when he went up though— he’d also gotten a sight of the river up ahead. And at the sight of the waterfall rapidly approaching, his struggles grew even more frantic.

I need to reach shore, he thought as he continued to cough and claw his way to the river’s edge in a panic. I need to reach shore now, I need air I need—

The angle of the water shifted, and Wild was shot out of the waterfall, the rapid change in direction making his head spin.

He found himself in open air, water still in his lungs, and he clumsily grabbed for his paraglider as the lake below rapidly approached. Wild managed to snap it open just in time, but he didn’t manage a good grip on the handle.

His arm slipped, and Wild slammed into the sand near the shore, a choked yell escaping him as pain blazed up his shoulder.

All he could do was cough up water for a minute and catch his breath, trying not to wrench his shoulder more. Something was broken in there; he wasn’t sure if it was his shoulder itself or his arm or collarbone, but it hurt. He could barely move without his whole arm lighting up in agony, and hoped blearily that none of the others had suffered the same fate as him.

Then he heard a splash behind him, and his stomach sank.

Had one of the others fallen in the portal already? Or was it something else? That hadn’t sounded big enough to be a splash from something falling from the waterfall, but then again, he could be wrong.

“There, look!”

The voice sounded familiar, but Wild couldn’t place it over the sound of the water behind him and the blood rushing in his ears. He tried to raise himself up, and pain tore across his senses, and for a minute all he could focus on was the fire ripping through his shoulder.

“—know who he is? He looks just like—”

“—in the water, don’t—”

Two voices floated around his head as the fire eased, and Wild took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. His hair had fallen in his face, and between that and his blurry vision he couldn’t see much, especially through the damp strands. Unless he moved again, but that seemed like a bad idea.

Wild groaned, blinking to try and get the hair away from his eyes, but he barely succeeded. His wet hair slipped to the side, but all he could make out were two blobs, silhouetted by the sun shining behind them.

Then he heard a soft gasp, and the sound of a weapon being drawn.

“How is this—”

“This has trap written all over it,” a different voice than the first interrupted, soft, but sharp. Cold steel nudged Wild’s chin, and he stiffened. “Don’t go near him.”

The other voice made a worried noise as Wild weakly coughed. “I don’t think he would have fallen down a waterfall on purpose and hurt himself like this if that were true.”

“It could still be a trick.”

“I know... but we won’t get any answers if he’s too dazed to speak.”

Wild heard a huff, then the sound of footsteps padding towards him in a familiar way. A hand settled over his shoulder, and Wild groaned again, a soothing noise coming from the voice.

“Hold on just a moment.”

Then a feeling like that of a gentle stream swept over his shoulder, quiet and small, but carrying the mighty power of water along with it. Wild automatically relaxed, sinking into the bubbly feeling. A blue light flickered in his vision, healing his shoulder in a familiar way, and Wild relaxed even further before he abruptly stiffened again.

Wait...

The smooth magic trickled into his middle, down to where his lungs were still burning from the water he’d inhaled. It soothed the ache, and though Wild still felt exhausted, he could tell his shoulder had been completely fixed as well. Even the various scrapes and bruises from the fight before the river had been healed.

Which meant...

The bubbly rush of magic faded away, Wild’s vision fully cleared, and his stomach dropped out.

Red scales. Yellow eyes. A petite figure covered in scales that were smooth and shiny in the sunlight, and healing magic that was fading from slender hands.

“M... Mipha?” Wild choked out.

The Zora woman (it couldn’t be Mipha, it couldn’t—) gave him a concerned look, but before Wild could do or say anything further, the steel was back at his neck.

Wild stilled, and followed the blade resting at his neck up to the person holding it. His already fast heartbeat tripled, and he choked for a second time.

The person holding a blade at his throat was himself.

His double’s hair was much shorter, pulled back into a neat ponytail, and instead of the champion’s tunic he was wearing the Zora armor Wild had received. His eyes were steely as he watched Wild, but the most shocking thing about him was the fact that the right side of his face was entirely smooth.

He didn’t have a single one of the scars that had killed Wild.

I’m unconscious. I’m dreaming. I hit my head on a rock and I’m hallucinating—

“Explain yourself. Who are you?” his double demanded, not appearing to notice how Wild’s world was caving in on itself. Wild stared, and coughed once, still feeling tired from his fight with the river, and just... unable to process this. What could he even say?

What was going on?

“I asked you a question, who are you? What are you doing in Zora’s Domain?” his double repeated, voice even sharper.

Mipha sucked in a worried breath as she stared at Wild, and touched the double’s arm. “Oh no, did... did a little guardian bring you?” she asked, and Wild stared at her, her words jumbling in his head as he stared.

Mipha.

Mipha.

Mipha was alive here. Wild was alive here, and missing his scars, and wearing the Zora armor that Mipha had crafted to give to him as a—

“Wh... who are you?” Wild whispered, throat suddenly dry as bone. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was just a mistake, a strange coincidence, but he— he had to know. He had to know.

“We asked you first,” Link’s double replied suspiciously, and Mipha set a hand on his shoulder.

“Link, he was just injured and half-drowned, I believe he’s confused. If he were here to kill us, he already would have tried,” she said pointedly, studying Wild with an intent look. “I think he looks too much like you to be a coincidence.”

“It could still be a trick. A Yiga or something,” his double said suspiciously. Wild didn’t blame him. That did sound like something the Yiga would do.

“But why add the scars and long hair?” Mipha countered, and the double looked frustrated.

“To confuse us, I’m sure there’s a motive. He’s probably here for you, you know you’re—”

“If you say “at risk” again Link, I will set Sidon on you,” Mipha said with a little huff, and turned back towards Wild with a kind-if-cautious look. “My apologies. I am Princess Mipha of the Zora, and this is my husband, Link.”

The words were like a slap, even though Wild knew they were coming.

Husband. Mipha. Zora armor.

Husband.

Link.

Wild would have fallen over backwards if he’d been upright in any way, and he stared between Mipha and his double, wondering if he was about to be sick.

They all knew the portals were transporting them through time. Wild had been a part of Time and Wind’s discussion on fractured timelines, and they all knew that there were splits and sections where the history of Hyrule didn’t make sense.

But this...

Was this a timeline where Wild hadn’t failed?

Mipha’s face grew more worried the longer Wild stared at them without speaking, and even his double started to look a little concerned.

“Did I miss an injury?” Mipha asked, scooting closer again, and Wild froze as she approached.

“No, no you got— you got everything,” Wild choked out. He felt perfectly healthy apart from being tired and his falling-apart mental state, just like if he’d used Mipha’s grace. Even though he hadn’t used it in nearly a year because the champions were finally at rest and they’d passed on and Mipha—

Wild lurched to his feet, using a rock for support, and immediately the other Link’s blade was raised again.

“Stay where you are,” he said sharply, and Wild stumbled backwards towards the water. His double’s face grew fierce and he leapt around him and blocked him off from the river. “I said stay where you are! We’ve told you who we are, now tell us your identity or I will treat you as a threat.”

Wild stilled, and swallowed. He might as well explain.

“I’m... well, Link,” he began, and the other Link didn’t move. “You... probably figured that out. I... I don’t know how I got here— I mean, I do, but it wasn’t on purpose, I-I... I don’t know what you mean about a guardian, but one didn’t bring me here.”

Wild looked at Mipha again, and swallowed thickly, his eyes stinging.

“This isn’t a trap. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not here to hurt you,” he croaked, and the other Link pulled his sword back just a hair. “I— my companions and I are traveling through time, but... I think something went wrong,” he finished in a whisper.

We’ve never had anything like this happen with the portals before.

Did the Shadow do this?

“Time travel...” Mipha said thoughtfully, and exchanged a loaded look with the other Link.

His face had creased further, but in a different way, and he finally pulled the sword away from Wild’s neck. He kept it at the ready though, and watched Wild intensely.

“How did you get here?” he asked again, a little less accusatory and a little more curious.

Wild exhaled. “It’s a long story... but it was through a portal,” he said, deciding he would just... ignore what was going on for now. It was that or completely freak out, and he wanted to know more before passing out due to shock. “My group is hunting a Shadow, one ripping holes in time. We’re trying to stop him.”

“So no Terrako then?” Link questioned, and Wild shook his head in confusion.

“No? No... Terrako. Just portals that sometimes spew powerful monsters.”

Link and Mipha both stiffened.

“These monsters, do they have darkened blood?” Mipha asked, and Wild nodded. “Oh my. We’ve seen some up in the highlands, remember that moblin, Link?”

Link grimaced. “Yes. What a disaster. We assumed it was just leftover magic from Astor or something of that nature, not... time travel related. Bazz is still recovering.” He paused for a second, then his eyes went wide and he whipped his head back towards Link. “You said you came through a portal that expels these monsters?”

“Yeah, from upriver somewhere,” Wild nodded. “But it’s not sending out monsters right now. I fell through it, then fell right in the river.”

Link frowned. “So no monsters were coming out when you went through?”

“No, they were all on the other side, my group was fighting their leader. But I don’t know—”

“Papa?”

Link froze, and Mipha looked worried as Wild turned around towards where the voice had come from.

A young, orangey colored Zora was poking his head up from the water, and he looked between Wild and Link, a wide look on his face.

“Papa?” he repeated in a curious voice, and Wild stared, studying the little Zora’s features.

“Stay in the water, Ty,” Link said seriously, and the Zora hesitated, eyes darting between Mipha and Link and Wild. Then he hopped out and scurried over to stand next to Mipha. He hid behind her leg and watched Wild with large blue eyes, and Wild began to shake, recognizing them as his own.

Oh Hylia, haven’t you put me through enough?

Mipha put a hand on Ty’s arm, and he continued to watch Wild, his expression concerned as he studied his face.

“Papa... hurt?” he said worriedly, and Link shifted around so he was standing beside him, and placed a hand on his head.

“No, I’m not hurt,” Link reassured, and Ty switched to clinging to his leg instead, still staring at Wild. His orange scales shone brightly in the sunshine, like the last rays of light before the sun set.

“Wh... who is...?” Wild choked out, and Mipha gave him a look that was as conflicted as he felt.

“This is our son. Tyde,” she explained gently, like she knew the words would hurt.

They did, hitting Wild like a laser, and he felt a mixture of longing and wonder and grief so intense he was nearly sick.

Tyde was small, and as he shifted around the other Link’s leg, Wild saw that his left arm was shorter than it should be, the fins the wrong size. He had Wild— Link’s eyes, and his frame was proportioned more like a Hylian, but he had golden-orange and white scales all along his body, and had the Zora tail on the back of his head.

All in all, he was exactly what Wild would expect a child of his and Mipha’s to look like.

A tear fell down Wild’s cheek without his permission, and he sank back down to his knees, overwhelmed. He was married here. He had a child here.

This was what would have happened if he hadn’t failed?

This was how much Mipha had loved him?

Wild began to shake, and barely even noticed as Mipha approached and knelt beside him, so lost was he in his own mind.

“You’re from the world the older Sidon came from, aren’t you,” Mipha said quietly, and Wild shakily raised his head to look at her. “I... doubt he remembered in order to tell you. Zelda theorized they all wouldn’t recall anything from their time here.”

Wild gave a small shake of his head, and Mipha sighed.

“It’s complicated I’m afraid, but we’ve dealt with time travel before,” she explained. “And me and Sidon, we... we talked a little, about things. He said that in his time the champions were slain, and that you nearly were along with us. But you were placed in a sleep for one hundred years in order to heal, and then you saved the princess.”

Wild nodded mutely, and Mipha’s face turned further grieved. She carefully reached forward, and Link couldn’t help his flinch as her cool palm rested on his cheek, right over his scars.

The other Link behind Mipha had gone white, his sword finally lowered. Tyde tugged at his pant leg, and Link wordlessly picked him up, holding him tightly to his chest as he locked gazes with Wild.

Wild could only imagine what was going through his head.

Mipha wiped the tear off Wild’s cheek then withdrew her hand, giving him the same smile that he barely remembered from a hundred years ago. It almost made Wild fully break down, but he choked back his tears. He didn’t want her to feel like she had to comfort him.

“I’ll h-have to hear about this adventure Sidon had,” he said, managing not to make his voice sound too watery. “Sounds like it w-was something.”

“It was,” Mipha said quietly. “He always spoke so highly of you.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but Wild’s double spoke up then, Tyde still nestled up to his chest.

“In your world, we... lost?” he asked in a quiet voice, and Wild swallowed thickly.

“We... did. I failed,” he whispered, not looking at Mipha. “The champions... our weapons turned against us. Overwhelmed us. I only survived because of a Sheikah invention that took a hundred years to work so I could fix my failure. So many died...”

He took in a shuddering breath, and looked at Mipha and his double again, their child still watching him intently.

“But you won here. You did it, you won—”

Wild’s voice choked off, and he barely noticed Tyde tug on his father’s sleeve, trying to get his attention. He did notice when Tyde pointed at Wild though, his brow scrunched up.

“Hurt,” he said with another tug, and for some reason that one small word made Wild lose the rest of his composure.

Suddenly it was too much, the sight of himself holding his and Mipha’s child, Mipha herself sitting beside him, her hand on her husband’s arm. It was a family Wild never had, never would have, and the fact that there was a timeline somewhere where Wild hadn’t failed them, where they had the opportunity to exist, it was just—

A small sob escaped him, and he pulled back, his shaking starting up again. Before he could bolt though, Tyde suddenly squirmed out of his father’s arms and padded over to Wild. Wild froze as he put a tiny hand on his arm, and when Wild looked down at him, he ran his hand up and down for a moment before nodding.

“Better,” he declared, then scampered back to Wild’s double.

Wild could only stare, tears dripping down his cheeks as Tyde climbed back into his father’s arms.

“He’s seen me heal before, he thinks he can too,” Mipha explained with a faint smile. “He does that whenever anyone cries, he thinks they’re hurt.”

A thick laugh burst from Wild’s throat, and he smiled shakily through the tears only running faster down his face. Tyde kept watching him, and Link swallowed back the gigantic lump in his throat in order to speak.

“Thanks,” he managed through his tears, and Tyde gave him a shy smile before hiding his face in Link’s chest.

Wild breathed out shakily, shuddering with a sob he tried not to let escape, and Mipha and his double stayed quiet as they let him cry, Tyde quietly watching them all. Mipha put her hand on his arm at one point, and Wild only cried harder, wishing he could remember her more, wishing she hadn’t died, wishing he didn’t even know what.

He merely cried, and Mipha let him, a different version of himself watching in pale-faced silence.

That was where Wolfie found them barely a quarter hour later, Wild’s eyes red as he quietly explained more about the infected monsters, Mipha and his double asking worried questions about what was going on, Tyde resting against his knee.

And nine Links became ten.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Not sure if you've closed or open requests but

How do you feel about writing a Yan! Slime? Could be platonic or romantic up to you! Idk slimes are cute :3

(also I'm permanently gonna low key stalk ur blog since again yummy yan fics hope you don't mind me staying- /hj)

CW: Wholesome, romantic, stalker monster love ahead ❤️ proceed with caution❤️

Accidently pushed post whoops done now lol

The five year old boy burst through the bushes, tumbling awkwardly and unskillfully before slowly popping up onto his feet and swinging his stick sword forward. His sibling, (Reader), high stepped carefully over the branches of the bush their brother had just crashed through. (Reader) nervously held their own sword, following their older brother into the woods.

"Jay, can we please go back?" (Reader) whined, trying not to cry nervously as they "explored" deeper into the forest.

"Don't be a baby!" Jay chastised, raising his arms high above his head. "How are you gonna be a monster hunter if you're too chicken?!"

(Reader) grumbled, dragging their shoes in the dirt. "I don't wanna be a monster hunter.. I wanna go home! I'm hungry!"

Jay opened his mouth, and raised his fists, ready to say something when something moved nearby, plopping loudly into a pile of dry leaves. His big, childish eyes went wide with fear, immediately losing all confidence and hiding behind (Reader), holding his thin stick in front of his face defensively. He was too scared to speak, trembling into (Reader's) back.

The younger of the two felt a surge of strength, needing to protect their beloved big brother, so they gripped their weapon with both hands, scrunching up their chubby little face to appear tough. They stomped over to the bush the sound came from, holding their breath, unlike Jay who was hyperventilating. (Reader) removed one pudgy hand from their stick, and swiftly pushed back the little branches, exposing a tiny green blob.

Jay released a high pitched scream and took off running back home, dropping his stick.

The glob was vibrating, and (Reader) was instantly filled with sympathy, assuming the little ball of goo was shaking with fear. "Hey, don't be scared." The four year old cooed, dropping their 'sword' and sitting on their knees to be closer. "I'm sorry, I thought you were a monster." (Reader's) cheesy grin showed off their missing front teeth.

Whatever the green thing was slowly went still, and (Reader) could feel it looking up at them.

"My name is (Reader), and I'm," they looked at their fingers, focusing on holding up the right number, before practically shoving their fingers in the glob's personal space, "four years old!"

The goo reached forward, forming a little nub of a hand, touching (Reader's) fingers. It was surprisingly warm. (Reader) opened their hand so it could roll onto their palm.

"Burrrrble!" The thing happily gurgled, looking quite pleased despite it's lack of a face.

"Burble? Is that your name?"

"Prrrr?" It patted their hand, not understanding the question. (Reader) laughed, feeling ticklish.

"I'm gonna be your best friend!" They decided, cupping the slime with both hands, still giggling over the sticky tingling the little guy caused. "I'll visit you every day, and we can play together everyday after school!"

And (Reader) kept their promise, visiting every single day, for years. The two friends grew up together, Burble learning to speak (Reader's) language over time as (Reader) brought their homework into the woods to have more time with Burble while they studied. Jay kept Burble's existence a secret, but never got over his fear of the creature, so he kept his distance from the two while they played.

Burble had a difficult time not praising (Reader) for their heroics, because if they did it would reveal that Burble had been watching them at school. Living alone in the woods was isolating, especially as a monster, their presence frightening off animals of all species. At first it was just because of how lonely they were, wanting to leave the forest to be with (Reader). They turned Burble down, reminding them how dangerous it would be, now no longer the naive child who didn't understand that slimes were monsters. But, no one would know if Burble attached just a little piece of themselves inside (Reader's) backpack, just to hear their voice while they were away.

Fourteen years later, Burble had been practicing in secret, forming their naturally round body into a humanoid form, trying to perfect their appearance before they revealed themselves to (Reader). It happened so naturally, Burble falling in love with their one and only friend. They wondered if (Reader) could ever feel the same. (Reader) was just so perfect; they were kind and strong, preferring pacifism, but quick to throw themselves in danger's way to protect the ones they love, just like when they first met. Even at school, (Reader) would stand up for those being bullied on a regular basis, gaining a reputation for standing up for those too scared to protect themselves. And they never bragged about it!

The green slime learned so much about (Reader) through the way they interacted with others at school, and fell deeper in love everytime they opened their mouth. (Reader) was an angel on Earth.

(Reader) trudged into the forest behind their home, exhausted after field hockey but refusing to take even a day off from visiting their best friend. It was surprising, learning that Burble was less of a pet and actually a sentient being with thoughts and feelings, but that was even more exciting, being able to communicate with a species not known for their intelligence. Burble rolled onto view, now a very large blob the size of (Reader) if they tucked in their arms and legs.

"(Reader)!" They happily gurgled, jiggling up to the high school senior. "How was your day?"

"Same old, same old." (Reader) lied, still wearing their gym shirt because their original clothes got soaked with milk after they stood up to Cody, the biggest dick they ever met.

Burble knew this, however, and was fine with (Reader) lying, knowing they were just being humble. It made their non-existent heart swell. (Reader) pulled out a bunch of classwork, and a brochure slipped out from a folder. "What's that?"

"Oh, that's a pamphlet for a university. Admissions are coming up, so I've been looking around."

The green color lightened almost to a sick looking yellow. Burble hadn't heard anything about this! What did they mean?!

"Burble, you okay?"

"Does that mean you're leaving?" Burble's voice shook, wobbling their jelly body.

"Yeah, if I make it in, but that's still half a year away, so we have time-"

Burble cut them off. "Don't go."

(Reader) sighed, placing a hand on top of their friend's smooth body. "I can't stay with my parents forever. I want to go explore, meet new people, hopefully get a career a have a passion for."

"Then take me with you!" Burble shouted, heating up under (Reader's) hand, the yellow intensifying.

The now yellow blob lunged at (Reader), morphing into a humanesque shape, creating a beautiful face that looked to be on the verge of tears. Burble held (Reader) to the ground, trapping (Reader's) body with their arms and knees.

"Burble, what the hell?" (Reader) wasn't angry, or nervous, just confused, not understanding what had gotten into their childhood friend.

"You can't leave me alone, (Reader), please!" Burble was incapable of forming tears, but their body ached like they were sobbing, rumbling instead of heaving as they didn't need to breathe. They slammed their face onto (Reader's), knowing what kissing was from a picture book (Reader) had shown them as a child, but not quite understanding how to actually do it. Their newly formed lips moved against (Reader's) timidly, easily holding down the struggling human. Burble broke the kiss so (Reader) could gasp for air. "I love you, (Reader), please don't leave me!"

A hurricane of emotions ripped (Reader's) mind apart, struggling with accepting what was happening. Their first kiss was taken by their best friend, who was still holding them tightly against the dirt ground.

"Let's.. let's talk about this later.. I need to go home." (Reader) stuttered, overwhelmed by the emotions they never felt before rampaging in their skull. Burble sunk lower, melting over (Reader's) body to better prevent their leaving.

"No.. not until you promise not to leave me." Their voice was barely a whisper, begging for (Reader) to love them back.

"I-I won't leave you. We'll figure something out.. You've just gotten too big to hide and-" Burble's weight was heavy on (Reader's) ribcage. "we'll figure something out."

Satisfied, Burble sat up and rolled off of (Reader), slowly changing back to their natural green hue. "You promise?"

"I promise." (Reader) face a sad smile, still incapable of fearing their dear friend.

Burble smiled, barely maintaining their shape as they allowed (Reader) to leave. They trusted (Reader), even if (Reader) didn't accept their confession at that moment, there was no way they would break their promise. And, if for some reason they did, if someone like their nervous brother fear mongered (Reader) into abandoning Burble, they would always be able to find them. The green slime collapsed back into a ball, happily listening to (Reader) through the tiny piece of themselves still hiding in (Reader's) backpack.

"Please come back soon.."

[kuoukyeee]

Pool Day with the Kengan boys

Gender neautral

Reader is wearing a swimsuit

A bit suggestive

Please stay hydrated and wear sunscreen, no matter your skin tone!!! Because every one can get sun damage!!!!! Also be careful to not slip on the tiles, and make sure the colour of your swimsuit can be seen underwater, so you can be easily spotted!!!

Imai Cosmo

AAAHHH this boy is basically vibrating in his seat during the car trip. He cant wait to play in the water with you.

Once you guys reach the pool he would rush you to the changing rooms, and will sulk if you tell him to slow down.

After you change into your swimsuit he will get a bit more bashful (cus he checking u out😭). However he soon gets over it and continues being playful.

He definetly says some shit like 'I dont need sunscreen!' 🙄 boy shut up before you turn red.

He WILL splash you with water.

Loves to cuddle you on those big ass floaties.

DEFINITELY HITS YOU IN THE HEAD WITH POOL NOODLES.

The aqua blue of the pool really suits him, tbh imo he would rock the surfer boy aesthetic.

This cutie gets so sad when you guys have to leave 🥺

Overall 8/10 pool day, very fun however you probably cant keep up with his energy, and you have to nag him about pool safety.

Sen Hatsumi

This man is laying his charm on thick as soon a he thinks of the word 'swimsuit'.

He would ask if he can rub sunscreen on you(🙄) don't let his innocent tone fool you. As soon as he gets his hands on you he is going to feel you up.

As for him, he would ask (beg) you to put sunscreen on him. If you do agree to help him, he looks composed on the outside but he will get a bit giddy and shy.

He will laze about on a sunbed or float in the water with you.

He looks SO SEXY with wet hair

If he's feeling playful he might pull you in the water before you're acclimated to the temperature, so you shiver and hold on to him for warmth.

You have to tell him to get his mind out of the gutter when he sees you eating ice cream or ice lollies .

He will constantly be checking you out ngl, and will try to say some shit like 'youre cute with your swimsuit but you'd look even cuter without it'💀💀💀

9/10 pool day, this guy is just so chill that it relaxes you.

Rihito

This guy is throwing compliment after compliment, giggling and blushing at you.

He would either totally forget to apply sunscreen and cry like a baby the next day, while you apply aloe vera or yoghurt on him. Or he wont stop harassing you until you put sunscreen on him (much like a kid on a car trip repeating 'are we there yet??').

Can see him wearing those arm floaties.

Definitely complains about how sticky the sunscreen is.

Would put you on his shoulders while in the pool

He would submerge himself so he can ogle at your body under the water

Dont fall asleep around this man when youre sunbathing because he will squirt (lol) sus shaped sunscreen blobs on you.

Idk why but I can see him getting tan

7.5/10 pool day cus hes too focused on wooing you.

AAAUAUAUAHSVAHAUUAHAUAUAUAUAAUAUUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAYAUAUAUSHYAUAGSUSJAUAYAUAUAHSUAUAUSGAUAUAHYA THIS FUCKING POST DIDNT SAVE LIKE 4 TIMES PROPERLY AND I HAD TO RE WRITE THIS SHIT LIKE 7 TIMES CUS ONE TIME MY WIFI WENT OUT AND DIDNT SAVE AND THEN I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT AND SOMEHOW IT DIDNT POST FULLY AUAGEYAHSGWUWHSGAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAUAJWJWUWJWHBW 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

[sinnabum45]

Gender Envy 👁👁✨

Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

Free commissions if you donate!

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). Free commissions if you donate! End plain text.]

[Image description: colored digital fanart of Mako from The Legend of Korra, Tadashi Hamada from Big Hero 6, and Ken Sato from Ultraman Rising, and Mutsu from Dororo. They are standing next to each other while looking down at a blob that resembles the shape of a person. The blob represents the artist and they are on the floor crying while hitting their right fist on the ground yelling: “D-Damnit!!”. Mako and Ken look angry, Tadashi looks worried, and Mutsu has a look of indifference. Mako has his right hand on his hips and is thinking: “Where am I??”. Tadashi has both of his hands holding the strap of his messenger bag and he is thinking: “Are they okay?”. Ken has his arms crossed and is thinking: “Bro, what a loser. LOL”. Mutsu is standing with her arms straight down and is thinking: "What is that thing?". The background is a blurred photo of a parking lot. End description.]

All of the characters that made me feel gender envy throughout the years 😭 AKA Single moms squad

[wonzzu]

apple of my eye ; l. chan

genre: fluff

word count: 1.2k

rions post it note: this was purely self indulgent because after i saw a twitter post about someone talking about all of chans moles and they were all i could think about all week and this is the result of that LOL this was also supposed to be around half of the word count but i locked tf in thinking about chan in this scenario and it made me really soft

chan doesn't struggle with his vision, he has perfect 20/20 eyesight if you will, and the optometrist will always praise him for having a clean bill of health at the end of an eye appointment. so why he currently has your glasses on his head, is a mystery to all really..

hes sat on the couch in the living room, glasses perched on his nose, and taking photos of himself in them. some photos where he's pulling silly faces, like pouting his lips out like a duck and posing with a heart against his cheek– and others where he pulls the glasses down his bridge and showcasing his jawline. the duality of man, specifically of lee chan, is astounding and hilarious to you.

and you would be enjoying this moment of cute selfie taking if the glasses chan were using weren't yours– your glasses that you needed in order to be able to see everything and not traverse your home with everything looking like blurry blobs of color everywhere.

“hey channie, have you seen my glasses by chance… i left them on my nightstand and now they're gone.” you wander into the living room and see his very blurry figure sitting on the couch… doing something you couldn’t make out.

and instead of being the very helpful, kind best friend that he swears up and down he is, he decides to pull a little prank on you.

“mmm.. no i don't think i have, im sorry. did you drop them on the floor somehow? maybe underneath the bed?” he says while stifling a giggle.

“already checked there before coming to ask you.” you groaned and went to take a seat next to chan, your hopes in finding said glasses dwindling by the second and you resign by plopping down next to him, turning your body towards him and pulling your knees up to your chest. and while you may be lacking in the eyesight department, you definitely know what your glasses look like,

“so…. why are they on your face?” you lift your head and look at chan through squinting eyes, partially to try and see his face clearer. he didn't think he would be caught so fast in his short lived attempt at pranking you, he raises his eyebrows and his eyes shift from side to side. “not sure what you’re talking about.. they definitely aren’t!”

he quickly took hold of one of the legs and slid them off his face, holding the pair of glasses behind his head and feigning innocence. you shook your head and snorted through your nose, “you aren't very convincing channie. hand them over.”

chan is not one to give up easily, especially in an attempt to recuperate a prank, “mmm, no!” he scoots down to the other side of the couch, his lips curling into a big smile and giggling as he moves over.

“hey!” you move down the couch as well, extending your arm out and grasping as far in front of you as your arm could reach, and right as your fingers graze the rims of your glasses– he lifts his arm high above his head and laughs, “i’m not making it that easy for you [name]-nie!” he elongates the end of your nickname in a cute way that you can’t help but smile at.

“come on chan, give them up!” his back knocks into the arm rest at the other end of the couch, leaving him with nowhere to go and resorting to keeping his arm as far from you as he could. you prop your arm up with the backrest of the couch and reach over his shoulder and up to his hand with your glasses in them.

in the midst of desperately trying to retrieve your glasses, you don't realize how close you had gotten to chan’s face. the tips of both your noses grazing each other slightly, and the air from laughing breezing over his cheeks and your eyes lock with one another. there’s a beat of silence between you two, the fit of giggles and creaks from the couch falling still.

chan feels the warmth coming off your body, and

the way the air coming out of your nose from your breathing tickles his skin. he notices the way your eyes trace every detail of his face and your eyelashes flutter with every blink you take. his eyes pan downwards to your lips– supple and plush. chan takes note of the way your lips twitch and the way you slip your bottom lip between your teeth as a nervous tic, the proximity between you two making your heart thump in the depths of your chest.

“-the moles you had…”

“what?” it comes out as barely a whisper, as he was too focused on taking in all your features to realize you were speaking.

“i never noticed how many moles you had, channie.”

you take your free hand and use your index finger to mark every spot.

there were the most noticeable ones: one right underneath his left eye closer to his nose, the most prominent of the moles he had. the second one being on his right cheek, an inch or two above the corners of his lips. the third one being right on the apex of his right cheekbone, eye catching and beautiful.

then, there were the moles where you really had to look: the most hidden mole being one that hugs his hairline, slightly covered by the trimmed hairs in the area but visible nonetheless. the second being one that nears his jawline, and the last being near his earlobe on the left side.

you tapped every single mole on his face, connecting them as if they were some kind of constellation unique to only chan’s soft face, like stars decorating milky skin. you let out a small giggle as you connected each mole, down, up, down again, over the bridge of his nose and to the side– tracing an invisible string between each one and ending with your hand cupping his ear, and tapping the final mole against his hairline with your thumb.

with every spot you pointed out, he felt his cheeks burn brighter and his ears heat up. this form of attention was electrifying– with eyes studying his features and every pore and sign of texture being under your scrutiny in the position the two of you were in; your arm still holding you up, his leg hugged in between the both of yours on the couch, your body being fully above his own as his back bent backwards to keep your glasses from your reach–

right– your glasses.

being too concentrated on the way your face brushed against his and the way your eyebrows furrowed together taking in everything that was chan, made him forget how you got in this position to begin with. and of course, right as he noticed–

“you let your guard down channie!” you quickly stretched your arm as far as you could and snatched your glasses from his hand, poking your tongue out at him to tease him. and honestly, he can't be too upset that his prank had fallen through, his heart was too busy trying to beat out of his chest to be concerned about it.

[linkedspirit-fanartfunart]

[Image Description: A series of drawings of Legend of Zelda Demons for the Linked Spirit AU. LA Dethl, "Master of Nightmares" is a dark mass with 2 blobbed arms and a single large eye. Beside it is a "Nightmare form" which is a golden-eyed flame-like dark shape. PH Bellum "Devourer of Souls" appears as he does in canon, a squid-like monster with a single eye. FSA Shadow "Prince of Darkness" is very small next to Vaati, wearing a black and white tunic and grinning. FSA Vaati "The Wind Mage" is a multi- winged orb with one red eye, and a series of small winged orbs make up an arm with four clawed fingers. SkSw Demise "Demon King of Destruction" appears as he does in canon, a humanoid man with fire hair and black scales. MM Majora "Lord of Chaos" in its Majora's Wrath form, a humanoid creature with venous limbs, the mask on its chest, with whips in each hand. Finally, ST Maladus "Demon King of Evil" is a lion-bodied teal creature with the face of a man with horns, and tusks. His back is stripped with red and his arms and legs are white with red stripes. He raises one clawed hand up with a snarl. End ID]

Demons of Hyrule & Beyond.

The comparative sizes are all wack because paper size, but Shadow acts as a comparison point for Vaati's row + Maladus.

Botw Calamity Ganon probably fits into this group but I. Did not want to draw it at this time lol.

[kingqueensoobscene]

OMG YOU WRITE FOR LIL POOTIS' SCOUT... this series made me change my opinion on him to Insufferable Boston Boy to Okay He's Kinda Cute Actually™

so um may we get a Lil Pootis Red Scout x gn or fem Reader where Pootis also imprints on reader? like, he sees scout as his mom and reader as his dad (lol)

Scout is so fucking embarrassed when pootis calls them papa and mama the first time (cause he got a big fat crush on reader) but they reassure it's okay and that they dont mind

yadda yadda yadda shenanigans and they end up kissing :3 sorry for the long ask, feel free to ignore it !!

— 🌻 SunFlower anon

AHHHH!! I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH!!!! I rewatched the entirety of Lil Pootis just to do your idea justice! Enjoy!!

LIL POOTIS!RED!SCOUT X READER WHO BECOMES A PARENT TO LIL POOTIS

-Scout was your buddy. He had always been, ever since you enlisted, you made friends with one of the other young persons at Mann Co. Putting up with someone who was oblivious to most things and had no awareness at all was hard, even harder when you started to think that he was a cute guy, despite being the most annoying person spat out from Massachusetts. Noticing his habits, like putting his hand behind his neck and scratching his neck or noticing that his nose was small and his lips were pouty and things he did for you. 

-He always wanted to seem like a cool guy to everyone, but really? He is a dork. But a cute dork. Even before he got a crush on you, he wanted to help you out. He notices when you got it rough on the field, coming to your room to talk to you or even take you up the road to that one diner. He likes to go to the comic book store or go the park with you and eat snacks and talk until the sun sets. Now why is Scout able to do this still even with his newfound crush on you and without breaking down?

-Well, unlike canon Scout, he is much more calm with his crushes, not by much. He gets very nervous to talk to you every time he has to see you and starts stuttering and doing awkward body movements, however he relaxes.  He knows he doesn’t have to impress you, though he still tries, but you like him the way he is. As a friend, at least that’s what he thinks. 

-It kind of shocked you when he adopted a Pootis pet from the store. As I have said before, he has this “Cool Guy” persona he likes to play.  But he really cares about this little booger, though he was careless at first. As we move ahead, he does change his parenting style to care for Pootis. Though, Scout still had his moments. Pootis and Scout were never really apart when they didn’t have to be.

-Scout always liked having you over. Pootis did too, though for a different reason. Since you were never not around, and as Pootis grew older, he saw your relationship as the ones he had seen on TV or from his Grandma and the Spy. While, you two didn’t kiss or hold each other, which puzzled Pootis, but Scout would jump his eyes away from yours then back again when you made eye contact or scratch his neck again. You would face your full body towards him, mentioning details brought up in past conversation, playing with your hands way too much. You were obviously in love with him. And you, too, did not think Scout liked you back.

-You would play with Pootis, shake his feathers, draw with him. Pootis drew Scout and you holding hands while Pootis was drawn as an orange blob between you. The words Mom and Dad scrawled respectively. Scout would get embarrassed when he sees what’s on the paper you’re holding. Scout has told Pootis that you are not his “Dad”. But Pootis only gets confused. You care for both him and Mama, so how aren’t you? 

-You told Scout you didn’t mind being called “Papa”, even if you happened to identify as a woman or gender less, and Pootis immediately lights up. He immediately opens his arms and squeaks at you. You pick up the little fart and hug him. A sigh of relief escapes the boy. 

-No matter the weather, Scout always took Pootis out to play. You could catch them at the park, in the snow or making mud pies after the rain. Scout tells you there is no obligation to join them, but Pootis makes his lil sad face that makes you feel bad for not wanting too. You would do anything for this bird. Especially as his “Papa”. You played into it too much.

-Scout keeps photographs of the team next to his bed. He has many of you and him together, him and Sniper, him and a drunk Demoman, There is one be managed to get a photograph of a photograph of, that being you holding Pootis while he took the picture next to you, so the copy on the wall is blurry, but the original is kept on him at all times.

-You know how Lil Pootis has a habit of screaming. And do you know of the Psychological term, “Secure Attachment”?  Well, it’s when a child, in an experiment involving the strange situation procedure, is in a room with their parent and a stranger and the parent leaves, leaving the child distressed until the parent comes back and they immediately calm down. It’s like that except that you are babysitting him for Scout and you go to the bathroom, he will do that until you come back. 

-One day, Scout came back from a mission and he heard Pootis squealing from the kitchen and ran to his room. Pootis calmed down when he saw Scout and you came back after washing up. Scout looked at you confused. Then Pootis spilled out a “Mwah!” sound and opened his arms. He wanted a hug from both of you. Scout got rosy. 

-After coming home from the store to have a movie night with Pootis, Scout saw you and Pootis watching an old noir film on the channel before you two would watch Scout’s Dirty Harry cassette. You were mindlessly reading your comic Scout bought you the last time you two went on the beam bag. As he pulled out candies and some seed for Pootis, a squeak came from the little, squishy, orange bird to pointed at the black and white couple kissing passionately. You were confused. Yes, you cute little bird, they’re kissing. Then he paddles up to draw something. It’s a drawing of Scout and you, Mom and Dad respectively, sharing a kiss with a heart between you.

-Scout gets super embarrassed and gently scolds Pootis about how that was inappropriate to ask. But you told him it was fine and that Pootis was simply confused. Pootis imprinted on you, but you weren’t together like normal parents. But, really, Scout wants that. Not for himself, but for Pootis as well.

-The denial in the air that was between you both could be cut with a knife. 

-Feverish skin was hit by sun rays from where you were under the tree. Little shade reached you from the angle of the setting sun in front of you. Little Pootis fell asleep next to Scout with his cap on his head. You could actually see his light-colored hair better. He smelled like a teenage boy, but it was scent that you have grown to associate with him rather than your traumatizing middle school years. You looked over at him, he had his eyes on the water filter, which was currently incapacitated and the yellow and black indicator was set to red. His eyes met yours and he gave a gap toothed smile. You leaned up and scooted closer to him, you could see his dimples. Your hand moved up to his face, slowly, waiting to see if he was ok with you touching him. His light brows furrowed, confused. You had to go for it, even if you regretted it and ruined this friendship. You kissed him. And thank the Lord, he kissed you back. 

[quintessenceofdust88]

Beach Day (🏖️🌊)

(a little scene set five years into the future of Little Blobs verse, inspired by the fact I finally enjoyed a sunny day at the beach after three days of rain lol but you can read it even if you don't know anything about the Blobs verse, it's very independent! Hope you like it ❤️)

He could get used to days like this, Tommy thinks. Both he and Evan had the Saturday off, and whenever they get lucky enough for that to happen, they like to pack up the car and take the twins somewhere. On a warm August day, the choice couldn't have been more obvious, and they've spent a wonderful day at the beach.

It's close to sunset now, and cold winds are ruffling the leaves on the palm trees. Tommy is lounging on a beach chair, with Leonardo cuddled up to his chest, wrapped in his lion towel with a hoodie. Tommy is gently rubbing circles on his back, aiming to both get him warmed up and to take a nap.

He and Evan spent the last hour with both of the kids in the sea, jumping waves, helping them swim and float around, delighting in their squeals as particular high waves licked their faces where they were safe in their dads' arms. But Leo got tired earlier than Stella, so Tommy left with him to get him dried and fed.

Now his boy is happily snuggled up against Tommy's bare chest, the soft ear of his hoodie tickling Tommy's skin. He has an arm wrapped around Leo's waist, and his relaxed breathing makes Tommy peaceful. Leo's always been like this, easy-going and affectionate, and cuddles are his favorite thing in the world.

Evan and Stella had briefly come by to grab Evan's surfboard, and now the two of them are back at the sea. They're closer to the shore than Evan would go if he were alone, and he is kneeling down on the surfboard, his arms steady around Stella's waist as they ride tiny waves, her smile bright enough that Tommy can see it from the sand, her yellow curls flying in the wind.

She waves at him, and so does Evan, their big smiles identical. Tommy waves back, blowing them a kiss, and gently nudges Leo.

"Wanna send hello to Daddy and Stellina?"

Leo turns around, his back now against Tommy's chest, and he waves happily at them.

"Hi Stella! Hi Daddy!" He says, and Tommy's not sure they can hear all the way from the sea, but they wave back enthusiastically.

"Wanna join them, bud?" Tommy asks gently, pressing a kiss to Leo's damp curls, but his son shakes his head, snuggling back against his chest.

"No, Papa. 'm happy here" He says sleepily.

"Me too, Leo-bear. Me too"

Tag list (lemme know if you want to be added or removed!):

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter

@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21

@dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld @buckleyskinards @actuallyitsellie

@agentpeggycartering @chaoticdisasterbi

[forkloverr]

i started catching up on mha again bc im tired of getting spoiled💔 MEANING DABI BRAIN ROT HAS RETURNED MWAHAHJA

i came up with this random scenario. something like reader getting cut, idk by what, tho. some kind of accident. and dabi takes care of her wound. maybe he says something along the lines of "u have to get used to ur scars." IDK THIS WAS JUST A SHOWER THOUGHT😭😭 I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS A CUTE LITTLE SOMETHING SOMETHING

'you drew stars around my scars' - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

warnings: mention of severe injury, fluff, names such as 'sweetheart' are used, dabi is probably a bit ooc but let a girl have her dreams LOL word count: 2,407

Rain swallowed your aching body. How long have you been running now? No, there was time to look behind, just run, run. The grey folder in your hand threatened to melt into sopping nonsense, once important intel now no longer legible. How sloppy had you been? You did everything you were supposed to, but one mistake, just one dire mistake, had led you to be running from the cops. How embarrassing you thought. Now the league is really going to doubt your abilities as a valuable member. They chose you to retrieve new information about the heroes, and now here you are. Scratch that. Focus on the now. That doesn't matter if you’re caught, or dead. The muscles in your legs pull and strain, pushing again and again and again until fire spreads all over your nerves. Maybe it's just the adrenaline, but you were sure you would have already fallen apart by now, pieces to the ground like a broken puzzle.

Crap. The rain turned into an intense downpour, practically draping the world in a dark grey blanket. You’re barely able to see what's in front of you, everything is a blur of rain and wind. Where was that street again? Maybe you already passed the hideout, or maybe- A bloodcurdling scream escapes your shaking lips, you trip and fall to the soaking ground, the impact harsh and rough. You feel hot rain running down your leg, but why is it red? Blood. Its blood. You’re used to that. But that's not someone else's blood. It’s yours.

All you see is a river of yourself pouring out but you can't stop. Not yet. Must keep running- You stop to look at what caused this, and it’s a piercing metal fence post you had failed to see. You try and lift yourself up to continue running, but your head pounds with excruciating pain. Running isn't an option anymore. Are they still behind you? You have to get back, you have to. You’re especially vulnerable now. Screeching pain escapes with every limp as you attempt to continue. How could someone as careful as you not only be caught but then also injured? Stupid mistake. You struggle on the slick road, grabbing onto anything you can for support. Then, you see an opening between the buildings, an alleyway. That's good. Maybe you can sit and recover until this all passes over. You start to approach the alleyway, but the closer you get, the more intensely humid it feels. The closer you get, the more… blue.. it glows. Right as you get to the entryway, a leather-coated arm snaps under your arms, grabbing you like a wet cat into the darkness.

“You're bleeding, you know.” A deep voice whispers in your ear. Huh, why is that idiotic tone familiar to you? “Are you an angel?” You squint your eyes, delusion and pain overriding your common sense. Only a dry laugh in return. ‘Far from it, sweetheart.” You slowly move your eyes to his face to discern whether or not you should punch this “stranger” for harassment. You start to piece together the blobs of purple, silver, and black appearing before you. Then it all makes sense. “Oh my god. Dabi what the heck.” A stupid cocky smirk is painted all over Dabi’s lips. He sets you down, moving his hands to rest on your shoulders to keep you from attempting to move, pulses of pain still moving through your body.

You and Dabi had a weird relationship. You both entered the League around the same time, but that was about the only thing you had in common with the man. He was a complete enigma. He was overly confident, sarcastic, petty, and almost childish. But for some reason, it felt as if he has a soft spot for you. He doesn’t treat you too differently than the others, but with Dabi, even the smallest of details matter. Everyone knows how reserved he is with his feelings. So when he does act ‘out of character,’ you notice. “Saw you needed help, quite the escape you made.” You reply with an annoyed growl, not appreciating the situation you’re currently in. Your brain then takes a moment to fully process his words. “Wait, how did you know I needed help? Unless you… YOU FOLLOWED ME?!?” A quick scoff. “Can a guy not have a hobby nowadays?” He teases. He continues, “Nah, I just-”

“You were worried about me, weren't you?” Surely he wasn’t actually, you were merely teasing him back. But something in his gaze shifts, for just a moment he moves his eyes to the side, avoiding yours. Odd. “I'm offended that you would insinuate that I feel anything more about you than you just simply being my ‘coworker’.” He rebukes. “If my legs worked, I would kick you so hard right now.” You seethe, squirming around in his tight grip. “I bet you would, sweetheart.” He gently puts you down and drops one hand to graze your injury. A sharp hiss escapes from behind your teeth. This is all just so amusing to him, isn't it? “Well, what are you going to do with me? Torment me some more? Tell me how stupid I am?” God, he’s so close you can practically taste his cologne. Messy staples shape into a grin, the kind of dirt-eating pearly grin that ticks you off every time he dares to show it. “Turn you in.” “WHAT.”

He cracked himself up, cynical laughter echoing through the alley. “Calm your pretty self down, I'm going to take you back to the league. Looks like you got yourself a pretty deep wound.” “Wait what did you say-” “No time for chit-chat.” He swoops you up bridal style. Normally he’d throw you on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes- however, he doesn't want to risk making your injury worse. Or that's at least the excuse he’ll dig up if he’s questioned. Entering back into the unpleasant rain is not a feeling you missed. Despite having a fire quirk, Dabi’s body is surprisingly cold. So that just made it worse. But for some reason, your own body temperature has risen by quite a bit. And actually, now that you think of it, your heart is still going 90 miles per hour. Weird. Must be the remaining adrenaline. Your body shifts to try to relax, feeling weightless floating amidst the smooth fall of the rain. You start to feel a bit too relaxed. Once panicked breaths now turn into rhythmic ins-and-outs, almost in sync with the same rhythm of Dabi’s.

---

The next thing you remember is a strange poking sensation on your cheek. Frankly, it's quite annoying. “Mmm…. what do you want.” You peak open your tired eyes to see Dabi struggling to wake you up. “We’re here. Don't make me drop you.” Where exactly is ‘here’? This doesn't look like any part of the league’s hideout you’re familiar with. Must be Dabi’s room, you reason. Dabi then walks over and hovers over his bed, setting your back to be up against his pillow. “Stay there.” He grumbles, his footsteps trailing to the other side of the room. The deep thumping of your heart returns. 

You know Dabi, but you don't know him. He likes to keep things hidden, that's for sure. Motives, feelings, his past. How much can you truly say you know about his character? All of that makes your head pound, can you trust him enough to be in a room with him, alone? Maybe he’s looking for an easy kill, you would never have a chance at escaping. You’ve become a fly caught in a charming fly-trap. Maybe that explains his strange placement of attention on you, scouting you out for the perfect opportunity to remove you. Your thinking stops when Dabi turns back holding a white box. He stops at the side of the bed, pausing and opens his mouth like he was going to ask if you mind about him sitting next to you. Of course he was going to anyway regardless of your reply. No need to waste the words. The mattress dips as he positions himself to be close to your injured leg. Your nerves shifted from being on fire to those of fear. Your eyes shakingly move up to Dabi’s, searching for any expression of enjoyment or even anticipation of his new kill. All you get in return is a stern yet calm look from Dabi. “You look scared.” He grumbles. “Do I… Do I scare you?” His voice is low and gentle.

For a second, the intimidating man in front of you reminds you of a small child. You’ve never seen or heard Dabi like this. Even if it really is the bare minimum of emotion, it almost makes you feel guilty for questioning his motives, even if it was rightfully valid. You shake your head no. It's not a complete lie, maybe this tightness in your chest is something other than fear, something you haven’t felt in a while. A suppressed tidal wave of emotion that had always been pushed to the background. Nevermind that. “...Good.” He sets the white box down, carefully opening to lid to reveal what's hidden inside. Bandages, disinfectant, cotton balls, and more are organized into little sections in the box. It’s a first aid kit, although more suitable for severe injuries. Almost like he can read your mind, he breaks the silence.

“I always keep one in here. I have my.. fair share… of injuries.” Dabi lowers his gaze. Part of you realized that those scars aren't just a scary villain facade. No, it was something Dabi was ashamed of, a bad memory forever etched into every crevice of his skin. “I’m sorry.” You croak. Dabi ignores the apology, it's not your fault after all. It’s daily life to him now, a new normal. And it has been ever since that night. But you didn’t need to know that, no one did. This was the real and raw Dabi, even if the name “Dabi” is also a false pretense. “Well, how bad is it?” You nervously ask. Dabi sucks the air through his teeth. “It’s a pretty deep wound, probably will leave a scar.” Immediately you recoil. Not that looks are all that matter, but having a giant deep scar on your leg for the rest of your life is pretty jarring. Especially a scar earned in such an idiotic way. Every day after this will be a constant reminder of your stupidity every time you look at yourself in the mirror. Dabi can sense your muscles tense up. He places a hand on your good leg and looks up at you. He opens his mouth to speak before hesitating,

“You.. you have to get used to your scars.” A melancholic expression is painted on his face. You can tell he really means it. His hand then hovers above your leg with the antiseptic and a cloth from the kit. He pauses again. “I’m just going to be honest with you, this is going to hurt real bad.” “This is just how I wanted to spend my night.” You sigh, trying to hide how much you were dreading the next minute. Dabi takes a moment to reply. “Uh.. not trying to make it weird or anything, but are you ok with me touching you?” Dabi tenses slightly out of embarrassment. Why is he acting so weird? you wonder. Dabi is all about barking orders and never stopping to ask anything. So what if it’s going to bring you pain? Doesn’t affect Dabi. So why should he care so much to even ask? 

“Oh, I don't mind, I feel like you know what you're doing.” You shift slightly in anticipation. He grunts an ‘ok’. Lowering his head back to the bloody gash before him. Immediately after he pours the liquid on your injury you clench your jaw and hold on for dear life on the bed. Muffled curses hide behind your lips as you resist completely losing your cool. You can take this, you’re a grown adult, right? Dabi amusingly looks at your face, chuckling to himself. “You look really funny right now.” Through gritted teeth you grunt, “At least have some compassion!” Dabi then cleans up the wound with the rag, for such a rough-looking individual his touch is rather soft and gentle. He gingerly presses on your wound, working all the way around it. He turns back to the kit and gets out a roll of white bandage. “Lift your leg up.”

You try your best to follow his orders, but your muscles are stiff and are screaming in pain. Dabi sees your straining expression and lets out a sigh. “Stop. I’ll do it.” In quite the coy manner, Dabi slips one hand under your thigh, and moves the other to be by your knee. You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a dusting of pink. He then begins to lift your thigh up and bends your knee until your leg is a triangular arch. Dabi unwraps the bandage with his teeth, then secures one side under your thigh to begin wrapping your leg. Holding the beginning of the bandage, Dabi carefully covers the entire wound, making sure the bandage has a secure grip on your skin, but not tight enough to hurt you. Surprisingly enough, Dabi wasn't done. He opens his black leather jacket to dig in one of the inner pockets and retrieves a hot pink Hello Kitty band-aid. You can't help but stupidly grin. “Dabi, why do you of all people have a Hello Kitty band-aid in your jacket.” Dabi returns your smile. “Toga.” One name explains it all. Toga had a habit of gifting cute things to the league. Because everything is “so bland here.”

He unwraps the bandaid and places it in the center of the bandage. “Thought you’d like it. More than me anyways.” He coughed. “Who knew the elaborate Dabi was such a softie.” You giggle, shifting around to sit next to him on the bed. “Hey, Dabi?” “Mm.” “Thank you..” Dabi turns to look at you, then stoops down and softly kisses the spot where the band-aid was. You can feel your stomach tickle with butterflies. “W-what was that for?!” You gasp, feeling your heart practically jumping out of your ribcage. He smirks. “What, you’ve never heard the expression ‘kiss it to make it better?’”

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

chocolate frog terrarium || theodore nott x reader

a/n: WARNING: ur a HUFFLEPUFF GIRL and now you have made-up siblings lol the chocolate frog thing was something i thought of a while ago and i think it’s funny. and i played hogwarts legacy so i have to reference it <3

to say that theodore was nervous about the date was an understatement. he was overwrought and maybe even querulous (thank you thesaurus.com). he didn't know what to wear and he was worried that his hair looked stupid. eventually he decided he looked as good as he was going to and left to meet (y/n) in the bell tower courtyard.

when he made it outside he saw her waiting by the fountain. she was conjuring three little yellow canaries, a spell they had recently learned in mcgonagall's class. when she saw him walking towards her she waved her wand and all of the birds disappeared.

"theo, you made it!" she walked towards him, grinning widely.

"you didn't think i'd show?" he pretends to be offended. "i see you've mastered the avis charm?" he watches as a few yellow feathers fall to the ground at her feet.

"truly i was worried you and malfoy were having me on..." she trailed off before quickly pivoting to a brighter topic. "are you ready to go?"

"yeah let's get going," he offers his arm and she takes it, looping hers through his.

they make small talk as they walk across the rickety bridge and all the way to hogsmeade, talking about everything from potions class to what they think harry potter will manage to do before this year is up. they also make a brief pitstop at the puffskein den on the way to the village ("they're so cute, let's just look at them for a second!").

"where do you want to go first?" theo asked as the both of them entered the wizard village.

"honeyduke's," (y/n) answered immediately.

"that was quick," theo teased her, but still led them to the candy store.

as they walk around together theo watches as she examines almost everything in the store.

"what's your favorite thing in here?" she asks him while still perusing the shelves.

he thinks for a minute before answering, "probably...every-flavor beans."

"are you a sociopath or something?" she asked with mock-seriousness. "i can't eat those. ever since i got a dragon dung flavored bean." she shivered at the memory.

he laughed loudly, "i've never got one like that...what's your favorite?"

she picks up a chocolate frog and holds it up to theo, suddenly laughing lightly at something.

"you know i come from a muggle family, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him. he nodded, so she continued. "i bought one of these for my brother one time, and when it jumped out he thought it was a real frog, so he set up a little habitat for it and kept it as a pet."

"how long did it stick around?" theo asked, genuinely curious as he had never left a chocolate frog open and uneaten for longer than five minutes.

"a day, then it melted under the heat lamp," she chuckled, putting the chocolate frog back. "i wish you could have seen his face when he found his brand new pet frog melted in his tank."

"i've always wondered how muggles would react to all of these different candies," theo said, imagining the scene of a boy finding his new pet as a melted chocolate blob.

"don't get me started on my sister," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "she tries to talk to the cards. she has a crush on her gilderoy lockhart card."

"so you've exposed your muggle family to the wizarding world as well?" he asked.

"yes," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "i think it would be rather selfish to keep all of this to myself."

"did your parents freak out when they found out?"

"oh yes, my mom nearly lost it when i made a worm grow to, like, double its size."

"i would too, that sounds vile," he scrunched his nose up at the thought of a fat fucking earthworm.

(y/n) grabs two chocolate frogs and a box of fizzing whizbees before going to the counter to pay. before she could even get her coin purse open, theo had already given the cashier enough money to cover it.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she frowned.

“i wanted to impress you,” he shrugged.

she rolled her eyes before offering him one of the frogs. they both opened them, caught them, and began eating them.

“what card did you get?” she asked, peering over his shoulder to see.

“fig,” he said unenthusiastically. “i have like eight of him already. who did you get?”

“ooh! i got mcgonagall! i don’t have her yet!” she said excitedly, pocketing the card. “i don’t have fig though….”

she side-eyed him in hopes that he would hand over the card. which he did. he didn’t need a ninth eleazar fig.

they started their walk back to the castle shortly after this. shyly brushing hands until theo made the move to fully hold her hand. he walked her down to the hufflepuff common room where he found himself sad to part ways.

“i had a really nice time today theo…” (y/n) said shyly, looking down at her feet. “we should do this again sometime.”

“yeah definitely! i had a great time too,” he smiled down at her softly.

he was wracking his brain, trying to think of something NORMAL to say, when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“goodnight theo,” she smiled softly and went into her common room.

he smiled as he turned around to walk to the dungeons. when he made it to his dorm, malfoy and mattheo (yep he’s here IM SORRY) were waiting for him.

“how’d it go mate?” mattheo asked, smirking at theo.

“it was really great,” theo answered earnestly, too giddy to say something cool and nonchalant.

“that’s just adorable,” malfoy cooed at him.

“shut up…” theo rubbed the back of neck, before plotting with the boys on how to ask (y/n) out again.

[sixxeyes]

redamancy.

(n.) - a love returned in full feat. childe w.c. : 5.2 k warnings : nsfw , f!reader , entirely self-indulgent lol , very very soft. like excruciatingly soft. note : hbd to the literal love of my life :salute: i was going to write something out of pocket, but i'm a big baby and need lots of fluff so lol enjoy being loved by tartag three years in a row

Throughout the time dating your boyfriend, Childe has always been one hell of a lover to you. He has been nothing but understanding and kind; whenever you told him to give you some space while you pondered your own feelings for him or needed time to yourself, he had always nodded his head and promised you that he would be there for you should you ever called him.

And Childe always came through when you did call for him. 

He was patient with you as you figured out what you wanted in your relationship with him and how you felt specifically for him, never rushing you when you took some time to finally tell him that you loved him and only began to get clingy with you when you finally reciprocated his feelings. 

He loved you so much and you could feel it with every action he showed you.

And you wanted to show him how much you appreciate him with a cake made with love just for him. Your idea was big and grand; a heart cake with a cute whale on top decorated with cute stars and a moncerous caeli, his constellation, hidden somewhere on the cake.

However, due to your lack of baking ability and patience, your frosting wasn’t working correctly and… well.

Your heart beats rapidly against your chest seeing the lump of blue frosting melting ontop of your cake. The base was decently done, the light blue frosting wasn’t perfectly even but it was smooth enough and that was all that you needed. However, the decorative blue frosting for the whale had not set properly and Childe was due to visit any time soon. 

With a knife, you carefully scoop off the blue lump and try again in hopes of the frosting understanding your panic but your heart breaks once more seeing the blob fall onto your base. Just as you begin to try again, the sound of your door unlocking and opening sends your heart to your stomach. As the door closes and you hear rustling as your guest enters your home, you quickly stand in front of your mess of a cake in a state of panic. 

He was visiting way earlier than usual.

“Sweetheart?” Childe’s voice calls out for you. “Are you home?”

A head of orange curls pokes out from the doorway of your kitchen and immediately a bright smile grows on his face. With quick strides, you’re enveloped into a warm hug; the comforting scent of citrus and the salty breeze of the ocean surrounds you and it was like all of your worries for today just melt away as soon as his arms wrap around you. Childe’s scent, his entire presence, was something you found yourself easily melting into.

The deep ocean stares back at you, the dark seas twinkling lightly as they reflect their affections for you. It’s a rare sight to see such light in his eyes according to most others, like his short grumpy coworker who always picks a fight with your lover, but you’re glad that the stars reflected in his eyes are a sight reserved only for you to see.

“You’re wearing my shirt…” he murmurs quietly as he takes in the sight of you. Rough fingers fiddle with the edge of the maroon shirt over your form and he smiles sweetly. A soft kiss is pressed onto your cheek, gentle lips tickling your skin and you fight back a smile as more are firmly pressed along your face. If they had left marks, there would be a freckle of kisses along your visage.

“What’s all this?” Childe asks. His chin rests on your shoulder as he peeks over your body, but you reflexively shift your shoulders to shield the mess from his field of view. He attempts again and your head tilts in his way. A soft chuckle is heard beside your ear before his arms hold your body still and he successfully gets a view of the cake behind you, much to your dismay. 

“I was trying to make you a cake, but the decorating isn’t going as planned…” You murmur softly, eyes averting his gaze when he glances back to you. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes knowing the state of his cake. “Don’t laugh, I know it’s ugly right now.”

You’re fully expecting your boyfriend to tease you for the misshapen cake you decided to dedicate to him; it’s not unusual for the two of you to bicker and poke fun at one another. It was something that you loved about your relationship, but this was something you really tried your hardest on and if he made fun of you for this you were sure to start crying in front of him. 

A burning sensation begins to build in your eyes as you prepare for your lover’s remark.

“Oh, my beloved,” Childe coos. A gentle hand cups your jaw and guides your face in his direction; your eyes hesitantly meet his gaze and you want to cry even more with the way he looks at you. There’s nothing but affectionate warmth in his gaze as he takes in your gift before glancing back at you. “Why would I laugh at something you gifted me?”

You shrug and he softly chuckles beside you. You feel his lips press firmly onto the side of your cheek and your skin burns at the act. 

“You worked hard to make me a gift even if you didn’t need to, which is more than I could ever ask for,” Childe whispers lovingly into your ear. With another fond kiss to your head, your lover pulls away from your shared embrace. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Childe’s voice is soft, a contrast from your usual confident lover. The strong, powerful honed soldier fit to serve the Tsaritsa and the Tsaritsa only was now hesitantly asking you to do something intimate. You exhale softly at how you’ve gotten this powerful weapon of war wrapped around your finger and you wonder just what it was about you that he loved so much.

You couldn’t even get a proper answer out; as soon as you nod your head a pair of lightly chapped lips press onto yours. The kiss was very gentle and sweet. So many words of love and affection were poured into that simple kiss, every tender movement causing your heart to soar  in your chest. His hand gently squeezes your hand, a small reminder that he was experiencing this intimate moment with you, and you sigh from his touch.

You love him so much.

As you pull away from him, your eyes immediately meet his gaze and it only sends your nerves into more of a frazzled mess. If you’ve never been swept away by a heavy tide and pulled underneath the unforgiving undertow to be engulfed in the ocean, you might as well have experienced that now with the way your boyfriend was staring at you. Love was evident in his gaze, but with the dark blue engulfing his irises you knew there was something more brewing. 

With a short glance to your lips, Childe leans forward again to press his lips on yours. However, this time his kiss conveyed a different emotion than the previous one. Compared to the innocence of the other one, this one screamed of desperation and need. As his lips move hungrily over yours, you groan and grip onto the kitchen counter as he pushes into you. However, your boyfriend pulls away when you suddenly wince from the tile digging into your back. 

You don’t get a chance to question his motives before strong arms lift you from the ground and onto the counter. The cool temperature of the kitchen tiles contrast to the heat of the moment and you shudder in excitement, which only causes Childe to smile at your reaction. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, slipping between your legs and once more leaning into your body. As if on instinct, your arms loosely wrap around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. You shrug and avert your eyes playfully to the side as he leans in to press a kiss at the juncture of your neck beneath your ear. 

“Nothing much, just how much I love you,” you respond with a small laugh. Childe hums beside you before pulling away to stare into your eyes again. There’s a playful sparkle in his eyes, but it’s dwarfed by the amount of the warmest, most serene ocean blue that lull you in a comfort that you can only find with the man in front of you. 

“I would argue that that’s a bigger deal than you’re making it out to be.” He chuckles, rough and calloused hands resting on your waist as he pulls you into him. His lips find yours again, the same desire to love you and show his affections for you clear as day the more he kisses you. With a gentle prod at your bottom lip, his tongue slips into your mouth and explores everything that he can touch. Your hand runs through his orange curls and lightly grip his hair, groaning as his tongue slips over your own.

This only excites Childe further; it’s not his fault that you’re so sweet to him and have the cutest reactions when he’s giving his love to you. He wants to show you what you mean to him after going out of your comfort zone just for his sake. 

Childe pulls away from the kiss, but his lips never stray from you. They trail kisses along your neck as his fingers undo the buttons of his maroon shirt draping over your body. A sigh escapes your lips and your own fingers play with the ginger curls at the base of his neck. His tongue gently laps at your skin as his lips gently caress the area after and-

“Childe!” you yelp as you as his teeth playfully nip your skin. His lips curl into a smile that you most definitely can feel as he gently kisses your neck as an apology.

“Sorry, dear,” Childe murmurs, but he certainly doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse. Calloused fingers slide the maroon shirt off of your shoulders and the cooler temperature of the kitchen surrounds your entire being. Blue eyes are taking in your appearance, and you know there’s something brewing in the deep blue abyss as his eyes slowly stare down your body. 

Soon after, you can feel his hands explore the expanse of your exposed torso, running over your skin and curvature of your body. It’s like he’s mapping out the way your body feels from the way he’s touching you; there’s no inch of skin left untouched. Childe’s lips find yours again as he kisses you ardor, pouring every bit of love he has for you in the movement of his lips.

“W-wait,” you stammer breathlessly, pulling away from your lover when you feel his rough fingers slip under your bra strap. He’s fiddling with the clasp as his eyes meet your gaze. You can tell he was close to just letting his desires take control of him from the way he’s looking at you.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Childe asks. He tilts his head forward to press a kiss along your jaw.

“Shouldn’t I be the one kissing you?” You ask him, gently pushing away so that your eyes can meet once more. You give him a small smile as your fingers gently tickle the back of his neck. “It’s not fair for you to be in charge on your birthday; why don’t you relax while I love you?”

Childe can feel his heart soaring from the mere suggestion. Of course, he would never turn down any request from you, especially if it was a request to have your lips all over his body and hopefully around his dick. But, as much as he loved the idea, he had other plans in mind that he needed to do to you. 

It’s not his fault that you made it so easy to love you.

With a shake of his head and a quick movement from his fingers, your bra is unclasped and slipped off of your shoulders. A gasp escapes your lips as your chest is bare in front of your lover, though you know he is very much enjoying the view in front of him. 

“Not tonight,” Childe responds with an amused smile. His lips trail down your skin, soft kisses leading to your chest as rough hands gently run over your breasts. “Let me enjoy you as my gift tonight, darling.”

He doesn’t even let you respond to him as his lips press a gentle kiss at your nipple. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nub while his hand gropes at the breast left unattended. Your body shivers at his touch and you can’t help the blood rising to your face at his affections. Of course, you’re slightly embarrassed at having all of his attention on you on his special day even after making a mess of a cake for him. It should be you kissing him, trailing kisses down his body and worshiping him until all he could see were the galaxy of stars that shone the brightest the minute he was born. 

You breathe out his name in a soft whisper before Childe detaches himself from your chest. His thumbs brush over your nipples as his hands cup and squeeze your breasts. He smiles, licking his lips in a manner that sends a pleasant shudder down your spine. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Childe murmurs before leaning forward once more to kiss you. You hum in his kiss, groaning softly as his tongue parts your lips once more as he takes in your taste again and again. His hands slide down your body and his fingers find their way to the button of your shorts. With deft fingers, your button is swiftly undone and you lift your hips to help slide them off. 

“You’re one to talk, ‘Jax,” you quip back at him when he finally pulls away from the kiss, but your slightly playful demeanor when you feel his fingers brush past your clothed core. Your breath hitches and you can feel the smile on his lips when he kisses at the juncture of your neck. His name leaves your mouth in a soft whisper and your fingers cling to his shoulders. 

“Hm, what was that?” Childe chuckles softly when your body twitches as his finger presses into your clothed clit. Your huff of air clearly entertaining your boyfriend as he gently massages your sensitive bud through the thin fabric of your underwear. Your body shudders again as you close your eyes to his touch, your fingers burying themselves into his orange sea of curls as you try to ground yourself. 

“Sh-shut up,” you stammer out with a gentle yank of his hair. He only laughs softly in response and gently kisses your neck. Your breathing gets heavier with each movement of his fingers as he gently teases and prods at your clit and you can feel the pleasure building up. Your hips squirm on the kitchen counter as you try to grind up into his fingers for a bit more pressure; you needed a bit more stimulation than he was currently giving you.

Childe hums beside your ear, gently nipping your earlobe as he feels you shift your hips underneath him. “Do you need some more excitement, dear?” he muses. His fingers, however, slowly stop their pleasurable massage on your clit and your eyes widen at the cease of movement. He pulls away from you, his deep blue eyes an abyss of desire as he stares into your eyes. There’s a playful smirk on his lips as he glances at your lips and then meets your gaze once more. “There’s no need to rush; we have all day to enjoy the moment, and I want to take my time enjoying my birthday gift.”

He presses a tantalizing kiss at the crook of your neck before trailing slow, agonizing kisses down your body. You want to tell him to hurry up, but your voice fails you. Can anyone blame you when your lover was purposefully teasing you in the best way possible?

Your breath hitches when his lips finally meet the band of your underwear and it suddenly dawns on you what he’s going to do. Instinctively, your knees attempt to close so he doesn’t get a view of you down there, but, much to your dismay, his hands firmly hold your legs open.

“Childe,” you begin, but your words get caught in your throat when his eager fingers slip underneath the band of your panties and slide them down your legs. You don’t even get a chance to protest before you feel his lips kissing lower and lower until-

Your hips twitch and you let out a sweet noise when Childe kisses your clit. Your hand automatically comes up to cover your mouth knowing what he was about to do. With your fingers clinging to the kitchen counter and your mouth muffled, you moan softly as his tongue laps at your sensitive bud. The wet muscle swirls around the nub, lips kissing and sucking on it as you try your best to hang onto whatever amount of sanity you had left. The pleasure was building in your stomach and throughout your nerves as it washes over your body in gentle waves. 

A breathy cry leaves your lips when you feel him move even lower; his tongue licks a stripe up your folds and you can feel his mouth vibrate at your core as he savors your taste. You can only say his name once before his tongue delves into your pussy. Immediately, your hands fly to his head, fingers burying themselves into his ginger curls and your thighs squish around his head. 

You can feel him chuckle against you and then rough, calloused fingers firmly grip your thighs and pry your legs apart. The wet, soppy sound of his mouth suctioned to your cunt as his tongue thrusts into you is all you can hear while he eats you out. There’s the occasional groan from your boyfriend as your hand pushes his face deeper into your hips or when your hips grind up to meet his tongue, but regardless of what you hear your head is spinning as his stimulation overwhelms you.

Childe pulls away from your pussy only to press a kiss onto your clit again, one of his hands lets go of your plush thighs as he slips a finger into you. You’re panting heavily at this point and your grip on his hair tightens. The burning white pleasure is building even more as his finger thrusts inside your cunt; he’s building a steady rhythm with his meanwhile sucking and kissing your sensitive bud and your head is spinning. You are not going to last any longer if he keeps this up. 

Another finger slips in and you throw your head back. It’s hard to keep your mind from going insane with the way he brushes against that sweet spot. You can’t see him, but you can feel him smiling from underneath you and his fingers brush that spot again and again, massaging it until the heat in your body nearly explodes.

He’s so mean, but you can’t bring it in you to tell him to stop. Not when it feels so excruciatingly  good.

“Ch-Childe,” you stammer out in between moans, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Your boyfriend’s thumb gently rubs your thigh while the fingers that were pressing into your sweet spot over and over increase in intensity. The sloppy sound of his mouth sucking on your clit and the gentle rake of his teeth over the sensitive skin is enough to send you over the edge. The pleasure is building up so fast and your fingers bury deep into his hair as you practically shove him into your pussy. 

Were you suffocating him? Could he even breathe?

You didn’t care. All that was on your mind was the overwhelming white pleasure that burns through your body, crashing over your entire being as your hips ride into his face. His free hand grips your thighs as your legs tighten around his neck to pull him closer to your body while his fingers buried deep inside your walls help you ride out your orgasm. 

His name is the only word that spills out of your lips in a slurred and breathy mantra as the waves of your orgasm wash over your nerves.

As you cool down from the high of your climax, Childe gently slips his fingers out of your sensitive pussy. His hands pry open your shaking legs and you can see the twinkle of his eyes as he watches you, completely breathless, on the kitchen counter. 

You nearly cum again when your boyfriend locks eyes with you and licks his fingers clean. 

“You taste so sweet, love,” Childe coos, turning his head and pressing his lips against your inner thigh. He showers small kisses against your skin gently and your body shivers underneath his touch. “If I could, I would spend all day just eating you out until all I can taste is your pussy on my tongue for the rest of my life.”

You can feel your ears burning at his dirty words, but you can’t deny that it made your stomach somersault at the mere thought. 

“But, there are other, more urgent matters that I want to deal with. So, we’ll save that idea for next time, okay?” Childe whispers playfully. He presses a final kiss on your thigh before standing up once more. He leans into you; his hands firmly grab at your waist as he pulls you into his body. Your lover’s lips find yours in a kiss as his lips move against yours in fervor. 

The taste of your cum on his lips melts into your own mouth as his tongue slips into yours, and you groan as Childe presses more into you. His kisses are hungry and rough, almost as if his lust and desire to have you was taking full control of his body at this point. Your fingers cling onto his shoulders as you hold him close to you, savoring the heat of the moment and the passion shared between you two.

Childe whispers your name as he pulls away only for his lips to go straight for your neck. He’s kissing the skin of your neck, lips suctioning to areas of your skin as his tongue scrapes over the area trapped in his mouth. You sigh breathily, feeling his mouth caress and suck at your skin. You only wince when his teeth graze your skin and bite you once more. 

But you don’t stop him as he leaves love bites onto the expanse of your skin.

Lost in your own bliss and the kisses pressed into your skin, you don’t realize what Childe’s doing until you feel something hard press against your pussy. Your eyes slowly open as your turn your head to face your lover; a head of ginger curls is all you see as he’s too busy kissing your neck and fisting his dick as he prepares himself to fuck you.

Your stomach flutters in excitement and your hand slowly reaches down to touch his cock. When your fingers brush against his, you can feel your smile growing seeing his body flinch at your touch. 

“Babe?” Childe asks. He pulls away from the crook of your neck and you can feel your pussy moisten from the sight of him. 

He’s an absolute, horny wreck. His blue eyes are dark, darker than you’ve ever seen them and you fear he may have jumped too deep into the pits of the ocean from the way he’s looking at you. There’s a glaze over his eyes and his cheeks are flushed from not only eating you out earlier, but from pumping his dick in his hand and the excitement of having your cunt around him. 

Your heart swells in pride knowing that he’s like this because of you. 

“Let me do it for you,” you tell him softly, gently removing his hand from his cock as your fingers wrap around it in his stead. “It’s your birthday, at least let me treat you with this.”

Childe lets out a strained groan at your touch, but he doesn’t stop you. Instead, he buries his face back into the crook of your neck along with a few kisses sprinkled onto your skin. 

Immediately, you get to work. Your thumb swipes at the head of his dick and he shivers from the touch; you can feel your smile growing from his reactions to your touch. Your thumb gently massages the tip of his cock, gently coaxing as much precum as you could over the head before your hand begins to slowly pump his dick. It’s a slow and steady rhythm at first and Childe moans softly into your neck. His hips meet your hand in its pace and you can feel him get harder with each stroke. 

Childe whispers out your name in a soft moan when you playfully let your finger trail along the shaft of his cock before your hand grasps him once more to line him up at the entrance of your pussy. Your body shudders feeling the tip slip through your folds, the mixture of his precum and your wet pussy making the sensation all the more pleasurable.

“Are you ready?” you whisper to your boyfriend. Your free hand gently runs through Childe’s hair as he pulls away from your neck. His eyes meet yours and your pussy throbs at the pure lust and love in his eyes. A rough hand reaches up to grab yours, bringing it to his lips as he presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m always ready for you, my beloved.”

Childe kisses you again, muffling both of your moans as he presses his hips into yours. His dick slides into your pussy; it brushes up against your walls in the best way possible, each inch digging into you sends waves of pleasure through your body. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his hips as you help push him deeper into your cunt. Your boyfriend laughs softly at your eagerness, pulling away from your lips with an amused smile. 

“Already?”

You roll your eyes and yank your hand away from his, but he quickly catches it once more. He intertwines your fingers with a gentle squeeze and a twinkle in his ocean eyes.

“Just shut up and fuck me, ‘Jax.”

Your lover does not need to be told what to do twice. With a quiet ‘yes, ma’am,’ Childe’s hips begin a slow and steady rhythm as he grinds into you. As the pleasant sensation of his dick rubbing inside your pussy, you sigh and let your eyes flutter shut; each movement is absolute bliss for you and you don’t doubt that Childe feels the same way from the way he’s groaning and panting in your ear. 

Whispers of praise and love are whispered into your ear the more the pressure builds up between the both of you. There’s no rush, no race for the end of the finish line as the both of you revel in the ecstasy shared as your hips meet again and again. Childe gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards him and his lips hungrily capture your own once more in a heated kiss. Your moans are swallowed by him as he pushes you onto the kitchen counter.

The cool tile presses against your back and you shiver, though it doesn’t distract you much considering the gradual increasing intensity of Childe’s hips thrusting into your own. His fingers, still intertwined with yours, squeeze your hand against the kitchen tile as he pulls away from your mouth. His eyes are beautiful as he stares down at you, gaze in a lust-filled haze and lips parted as the most beautiful, sweet moans leave his lips. 

“You feel so good; your pussy was made for me,” Childe groans out. He leans forward once more but buries his face back into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to focus on anything when his hips are slapping against your own, the noises getting louder and wetter the more he pulls his dick out only to slam back into your pussy, and his whines right beside your ear as the pleasure spreads throughout your body. 

His free hand roughly grabs a hold of your thigh, pulling your body closer to the edge of the counter before pushing your leg up. It’s a bit of a stretch for you, but god does the angle that he’s hitting you from feel so good. A strangled moan leaves your lips as Childe roughly fucks you, sparks of pleasure rapidly building up in your stomach the more he hits that special, sweet spot that makes you see stars.

“Childe, I-I’m…!” you cry out, fingers grasping the back of his head. You feel him kiss the base of your neck.

“Go on, I’m close too. Don’t hold back now.”

It doesn’t take long for you to cum, your second orgasm crashes over you in a huge wave; pleasure engulfs your entire being as your body spasms. Your leg tightly curls around his hip, your head thrown back and back arching. You can hear Childe grunt from beside you as your pussy clenches around his dick as he helps you ride out your orgasm with gentle praise.

You feel his teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder as his hips messily thrust into your own before you feel his movements still and his pelvis buried deep into your own followed by a muffled moan. Both of your chests are heaving and the sound of heavy breathing echoes throughout the kitchen while you both desperately try to catch your breath. 

After a few quiet moments, Childe pulls away from your neck and gently tilts your head towards him to take a look at you. You’re sure you’re a mess, but you don’t care as you admire your boyfriend as he hovers above you. His hair is a mess, worse than usual from your fingers constantly burying themselves into his ginger sea of curls, and his cute cheeks are flushed from the throes of passion shared just moments prior. His lips are parted as he pants, the corners lifted slightly upwards as his ocean eyes take in your own messy, fucked out expression.

Childe kisses you, peppering soft kisses on your lips and gently around your face. 

“I love you. I love you so, so much,” he murmurs quietly against your skin and you don’t ever doubt what he truly means. His lips press into yours again, causing your heart to flutter in your chest at the simple, yet sweet act of affection. 

Your heart doesn’t stop swelling with the love you held specifically for Childe even as he pulls out of you and helps clean up the mess you made, not even when he playfully asks for another round as you head to the shower to wash up after already going at it just moments before.

You love him, too, and you thank the gods for guiding him to you so that you can love him just as much as he loves you.