#but is he warm? i guess!

[capn-twitchery]

happy first day of london snow to every flondon oc, except to grace, who is now not leaving his house for all 31 days of december

(or til the snow disappears, whichever happens first)

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

his therapist woulda had a field day at their next appointment

[hallowshumour]

Cheetoh ☀️🐆💥🔥

[chelsiegeorgia]

Movie trailer finally motivated me to draw for the first time in like 5 months 🫡

[mollysunder]

There is a theory that the way children play serves as a means to simulate and prepare them for the tasks they'll take on as adults. So for all the narrative weight both Jinx and the story give the boxing machine at the arcade it would never have prepared her or the kids to take on Piltover.

What are the two things that Piltovans excel at over their Zaunite counterparts to keep the hierarchy? Weapons and technological development.

When you look at the way Piltovans invest in their children, they don't prioritize hand to hand/melee combat training. Piltovans focus on giving their children experiences in handling firearms, a pursuit that is both leisure sport for the wealthy and a key offense against dissenting Zaunites.

And from the show notes even Jayce, whose family occupies the upper middle class, was sent on educational excursions across Runeterra to explore the world and learn what it had to offer. Without Jayce's education abroad he would never have been inspired to pursue the concept hextech.

It's no wonder that the two figures that are set to be Piltover's biggest threats from Zaun are Jinx and Viktor, becasue they engaged in the same kinds of games and activities as their Piltovan counterparts.

Jinx didn't have an entire forest preserved to help her practice her sharpshooting like the high houses of Piltover, but she did excel in the few games at The Rift (the arcade) that built on her talents. She's the only Zaunite thus far who's long distance offensive is a strong counter to Piltover's forces.

Viktor couldn't travel the world like Jayce did, but for better or worse he managed to stumble into an opportunity to get real opportunity in research not offered to his peers through Singed. It was through that experience that Viktor knew to turn to Singed when he was at the end of his rope, and the consequences of that will be fully realized in season 2.

Ironically, the kind of skill the boxing game champions is only good for keeping other Zaunites in line. Vander's days of fighting Piltover were way behind him when we first met him, and Vi spends season 1 primarily fighting other Zaunites. It's no surprise the Zaunites who embody the old ideal of strength in Zaun that the game portrays, Vi and Vander, are largely at the mercy of Piltover and end up collaborating with them to avoid further harm.

Zaun's future as an independent city-state couldn't happen if they stuck to their old ideals. The people who stand a chance against Piltover are the ones that not only succeed but excel at playing Piltover's games against them.

[turtleblogatlast]

Headcanon that Leo really loved to give his family massages growing up. We know that he’s good at them from the episode “You Got Served” and we know he likes spas and relaxation and getting massages himself from when he tried to get these in “Bad Hair Day” and from when Donnie made a tennis ball massage machine in “Smart Lair.”

So I think it’d be cute to think that maybe one day Leo overheard Splinter complaining about a bad back and immediately Leo thinks back to a comic or movie or something he saw where a massage helped so he offers to give one and it actually ends up helping Splinter.

Then April swings by the Lair at a later time and mentions her back hurting because of her backpack from school and Leo’s all like “I gotcha!”

From there, he occasionally manages to convince Donnie to sit for one because Donnie’s shrimp posture does not help him any (Leo pokes fun at how sandpaper-y Donnie’s shell is despite knowing it’s always like that and Donnie smacks him for it.) Donnie usually prefers hand massages instead however as all his typing and inventing adds up over time, and shoulder massages too once he starts wearing his battle shells more. Leo also figures out how to give massages to Raph and Mikey’s shells as well, though it’s a struggle at first to not scratch his hands on Raph’s spikes.

I think since Leo has such bad luck with spas and the like, he tries giving himself massages (though it’s not as helpful.) Like, with how his abilities work his legs are probably always aching from his portal jumping and one foot landings, so maybe he branches past back massages out of a need to help his own aches too. (Though he really wants a shell massage himself, the same way he’d give them…the one time with Donnie’s tennis ball massage machine was but a short moment of what Leo’s been missing out on and what he’ll continue missing out on…)

I don’t know, I just think it’d be cute to think Leo could have honed his massaging skill this way in order to help out his family (and also partially because he wants a massage himself.)

[bichobolitach]

“You lay with lions” yes, they’re very CUTE

Dark Rise AU where everything is the same except Lions purr. What is a Lion if not a big kitty, really?

Devon hears Tom purr for the first time 🤭

[screwpinecaprice]

He asked her if it's true that Earthlings can read minds.

Lol idk really I drew now context later. :T

[puppppppppy]

doodles of my fav sillies

anton belongs to @poicyss

[autisticaradiamegido]

thoughts on dave and aradia (<>)?

day 356

BIG fan tbh. in this house we love and respect timerails

truly yall read this log and tell me theyre not cute

[zentriii]

atsumu groans when light fills up his room. his head's submerged in the clouds and all he knows is that he's going to have to call out of practise today. fuck.

the sheets beside him are barely warm so he forces his eyes open and rubs the crust out with the back of his hand. what kiyoomi won't see can't hurt him. his phone reads 6:23. at least he's awake early enough that kiyoomi hasn't left yet.

the process of brushing his teeth and throwing a pair of clean, non-sweaty pants on feel like they take up five years. there's a fit of nausea trying to make itself known in his stomach but he wants to see kiyoomi off.

"how're you feeling?" kiyoomi asks, filling a plate up with eggs.

"like i wanna be run over by a car." atsumu finds that to be more of an honest statement than he thought it was. he can barely stand up but the unsteadiness of walking over is daunting.

"do you think you can eat some eggs?" there's a small gesture towards the plate in his hands but fuck – the thought alone of how greasy the butter is, the strong flavours of salt and pepper – he could puke.

"i dunno if i could keep 'em down t'be honest," he mumbles, shame churning in his gut. it's not the first time kiyoomi's seen him sick – but it's the first time since they started living together. there's nowhere to hide in their apartment.

"try?" and it's that classic Omi-Pout™ that has him folding. a little because it's cute. a little because he still feels like he's imposing sometimes. a little because he refuses to live with regrets – if all there is, is here and now, atsumu knows he'll be upset if kiyoomi becomes upset too.

there isn't much else for him to do but shrug helplessly and unstick his feet from the ground. walking isn't too bad after the first step – or with company.

the toaster pops off and kiyoomi quickly adds those to his plate before atsumu can even finish washing his hands – as if he'd refuse anything more once he sat down. kiyoomi's not wrong, but still! it's the principle of the matter – wait is atsumu internally trying to convince himself that kiyoomi should consider him a simp? that that's how he wants to be seen?

does he? he does not. (does he?)

atsumu is very confused on which side he's on right now and comes to the conclusion that his head hurts so he will not be thinking further on this matter. he sits down.

kiyoomi's long since scurried off to grab his gym bag and change out of his pjs but despite atsumu's 23 years of life – he misses him. his company's a quiet but solid one and the warmth that atsumu always feels from beside him leaves in exchange for a cold chill. the egg starts tasting more bland.

surprisingly enough – flavour-wise it isn't all that rich to begin with. kiyoomi's the type to overdo quite literally everything when it comes to food, and even though atsumu was expecting something more mellowed out in terms of taste, it's super easy on his stomach.

he wants to ask but kiyoomi beats him to it, walking out of their room and ready for the day. "i used less salt and pepper and cooked it on oil instead of butter. are you alright to finish it?"

atsumu's stomach turns into a mess for a whole new reason and there's tears pricking at his eyes that he ignores. "yeah," he croaks, voice far too fragile to say any more.

"i called coach already, i left some medicine on your nightstand and – rest well okay?" kiyoomi's brows furl and it rushes into atsumu all at once how far kiyoomi's going for him.

kiyoomi who hates being sick, hates the idea of even getting sick. kiyoomi who's been playing nurse since atsumu woke them both up in the middle of the night with a sudden fever, not once complaining about being in close contact with him.

"omi-kun–" atsumu's voice warbles. he's gonna regret this later but he's. he's not even sure what he wants to say but he feels steady enough on his feet thanks to the food kiyoomi carefully made.

"i'll be back soon yeah?" and it's the way kiyoomi doesn't make a step to the door that brings words flooding out of atsumu.

"i'll be waitin' at home for ya." there's a silent moment where he wonders if he chose wrong, if kiyoomi wasn't really ready to refer to his apartment as theirs. it's only been two months since he–

"yeah, love you." atsumu hates how he can't smother kiyoomi's stupid pretty little face in kisses so instead he engraves the curve of kiyoomi's pleased and wobbly smile into his mind.

atsumu knows his face is just as sappy. he can't quite find it in himself to care.

"love you too."

[chameshida]

Teruki Week Day 1+3 : Electricity and Star

Me, to Teru who did 0 electricity related power and did even more pyrokenesis in the show than Shou: Haha what if you get the electricity related power up

[brrdhouse]

currently obsessed with these two... i could be a good mother

doodles and notes under cut:

[no-brain-just-akutagawa]

Everyone: getting stabbed, bitten or shot

Bram:

[ID: The stonks meme. On the left there's a full body shot of Bram. Instead of stonks, the text reads: "body". End ID]

[skyward-floored]

C-can I make a request…? (Please feel free to ignore if you’d rather not!)

HDW parent-child comfort? Maybe Volga gets a chance to comfort Link, or Impa can comfort him? Idk girl I’m just starving for comfort and warm fuzzy vibes and cuddles lol

Yes you may! (though I will say requests are closed so nobody send me more thanks <3)

It took me a while to contrive a situation where Impa would feel comfortable snuggling but I think I made it work! You’ll have to forgive me for the angst there ended up being, but there is comfort and cuddles I promise 😂

——————————————————————————————————

It’s not a dangerous wound.

Head wounds always bleed a lot, and almost always look worse than they are, so there’s no need for her to panic.

Yet despite how many times Impa tells herself these words, she can’t seem to banish the dread in her gut at the memory of seeing Link get slammed to the ground by an aeralfos’s shield, and not get up even after it had been killed by another soldier.

She shouts his name as he goes down, but the battle is a mess, and Impa is stuck in a fight of her own and can’t immediately get to Link. She manages a glimpse of him through the hordes, blood all over his face, and her heart stops as she fights even more viciously.

By the time she finally forces her way past the monsters in her path, Link is already being carried out of battle by a handful of medics. Impa wants to stop right there and follow them and demand to know if he’s okay, but they’re at a crucial point in the battle, and leaving now would be disastrous.

They wouldn’t be carrying him off if he wasn’t alive, he’s alive, calm down, she berates herself, but for some reason her hands won’t stop shaking.

The moment Cia’s monsters retreat and the men raise up a cheer, Impa makes a beeline for the medical tent, ignoring the questions lobbed at her by various army personnel. Link has certainly been injured before, but there’d been so much blood on him...

The medics are expecting someone to come looking for Link apparently, and the moment she steps inside the medical tent, she’s whisked off to a more private corner, curtains blocking the area from both the sounds and sights of anyone walking by.

And immediately sees Link lying silently on a bed, nearly as pale as the bandage around his head.

Impa exhales as she goes to his side, and watches his chest go up and down for a moment. The blood has been cleaned from his face at least, but he’s unnaturally still, and pale.

But he’s breathing.

“How is he?” Impa asks, and the medic beside Link hums.

“He has a concussion along with the laceration the shield left, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. He woke up enough to handle a potion about fifteen minutes ago,” she reports. “He’ll likely be disoriented for a while while the potion works through him. He may need another at a later point, but overall, he should be fine with some rest,” the medic smiles. Impa nods, still trying to ease the fear constricting her.

See, he’s fine, they said he’ll be fine, he just needs rest. He’s fine.

Link’s chest goes slowly up and down again, and Impa swallows.

“I’ve got some other patients to check up on, I’ll leave you to visit,” the medic says, seeming to sense her presence isn’t wanted, and she slips out from the curtain, leaving Impa alone with her son.

It’s rather quiet with her gone.

Impa exhales again, and looks at Link, pale and quiet, seeming unusually small under the thin blanket that he’s tucked under. There’s still blood matted in his hair, and Impa hesitates, then reaches forward, gently teasing some of it out.

It falls almost dust-like onto his pillow, and she brushes it off, intent on not thinking about how close Link came to dying and how she couldn’t do a thing to help him.

She can still see hear his cry as he’d fallen to the ground.

“Mmngh...”

“Link?” Impa asks immediately, leaning over him as his face twitches.

It takes him a minute, but he blearily opens his eyes, pupils unevenly sized as he blinks up at her. The sight of his blues, even dazed as they are, eases the fear in her chest somewhat, and she swallows as he stares.

“‘mpa?” he slurs, and she nods, unable to stop her exhale. He’s fine, see, he’s awake, relax. “Wh’...?”

“You were injured, Link. You got hit rather hard in the head with a large metal shield,” Impa explains slowly. Link scrunches up his face like he’s trying to remember such an event happening. “You’re currently in the medics tent.”

Link slowly blinks at her, not a whit of comprehension in his gaze.

“...shield?”

“Yes, a shield hit you. Hard.”

The memory of blood flashes in Impa’s vision again, and she very pointedly ignores it as Link’s eyes scrunch in confusion.

“Where’s... m’ shield?” he mumbles.

“It’s with your other gear, Link. It’s safe.”

"Oh..." he trails off, and slowly blinks. "...Wh' happen?"

Impa sighs. The medic had said he’d be disoriented. "You were injured, Link. You're resting in the medical tent."

He hums in reply, and slowly rolls his head to the side so he can look at her more easily, eyes trailing hazily across her face. The unsure, almost guarded look that’s been on his face whenever he’s looked at her lately is completely absent, nothing but open trust and bleary confusion.

It’s... almost more painful, in a way.

Impa swallows, and sits on the stool that’s been left beside his bed, Link’s eyes flickering at the noise. He stares at her again, and blinks, a little frown pulling at his cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs.

“...Link, I’m not crying,” Impa replies slowly, and Link stretches a hand in the vague direction of her face, obviously rather uncoordinated.

“Eyes’r red,” he says worriedly, and somehow manages to land a hand on her cheek. “Looks like... if you’re cryin’.”

Impa can’t help letting out a soft chuckle as he clumsily tries to wipe away an imaginary tear, and she gently pulls Link’s hand off her cheek, setting it back at his side. “I haven’t been crying, Link. My eyes are naturally this color.”

Link squints at her, face disbelieving, then he frowns.

“I want red eyes,” he says in a sad voice, and Impa brushes his hair away from where it had fallen in his eyes.

“Blue eyes are just as nice as red,” she says patiently, gently picking some more of the blood from his hair. She's talked to her share of concussed people, but concussed Link is... especially curious to speak with. “I’ve always liked blue, actually.”

“Oh... okay. I guess blue... 'r nice."

Link leans into her touch, and Impa holds her hand there longer than she would have otherwise, his eyes slipping closed again. He doesn’t speak for a minute, and Impa almost thinks he’s fallen asleep when he softly grunts.

“I don’t feel good,” he mumbles. “C'n you fix it?”

The way his voice wavers makes something squeeze in her chest. “I’m afraid not. The red potion should help fix you up soon Link, but it’s going to take a little while. You’ll just have to be patient.”

“Head hurts... ‘n stomach.”

“You have a concussion, that’s not surprising,” Impa sighs. “But the red potion should help with that. They’ll both fade, you’ll be all right.”

“Left,” he mumbles, and Impa raises a confused eyebrow. “‘M left-handed. Not right.”

Impa breathes a soft chuckle. “That you are. My apologies.”

Link goes quiet again, and Impa watches him, his face slightly pinched in discomfort. She’s unable to stop herself from studying his face as the silence stretches between them, idly picking out the features he shares with her and his father.

He’s got Volga’s hair, though it’s paler then his, a hint of his Sheikah blood coming through. His nose is hers, as is the overall shape of his face, but his eyes are solely how Volga’s used to be, blue and bright.

Looking at him, you'd never guess he had such unusual blood.

Link must feel her gaze on him, as he opens his eyes and looks at her again. His eyes are eyes half lidded, but focused on her face, and a frown appears on his lips as pain suddenly ripples across his expression. His forehead crinkles, discomfort suddenly more obvious as he shifts in his bed, and Impa leans forward, looking at him with worry.

“Link?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again, looking at her with a truly miserable expression.

“...Hurts,” he whispers.

And maybe it’s the time of voice he uses, maybe it’s the mixture of tears and dizziness in his eyes, or the fact that he just looks so young and small and hurt lying there, but Impa abruptly gives in to the side of herself begging to do something other then just sit here.

He likely won't remember any of this tomorrow anyway.

She stands up from her stool as Link lets out a soft groan, and sits herself on the bed, gently sliding him over so she can sit beside him. Her plan was to merely provide comfort by sitting there, but Link almost immediately latches onto her, curling himself halfway on her lap.

Impa can’t really breathe for a few seconds as her son nestles up to her, face still pained, but more relaxed then before. She watches him as he tries to get settled, but he seems to be having trouble finding a comfortable position for his head.

So Impa throws her remaining caution to the wind, and does something she hasn’t done since Link was a baby.

She slowly, carefully, slides him up, shifting him around so his head is resting on her shoulder. Then she begins to gently pet his hair, her fingers trembling a little.

Link goes still, then relaxes, the pain easing on his face.

“There you go...” she says quietly, still slowly running a hand through his hair. She’s careful to avoid the bandages, making sure her fingers only card through hair, and Link about melts under her touch.

A soft sigh escapes him, and Impa swallows, the fact that this is the first time she’s held Link since he was tiny not lost on her.

She quickly blinks back the sting in her eyes.

A sound almost like purring suddenly vibrates from Link’s throat, soft and faint, just loud enough that Impa can hear it. She blinks at him in surprise, but Link doesn’t notice, well on his way to falling asleep.

Impa keeps petting his hair as he dozes against her, the little rumbly noises still coming from his throat. He nuzzles up to her a little more, and Impa pulls his blanket up around his shoulders, holding him just a bit tighter as he finally drifts off.

It's unlikely he'll have any memory of this occurring, Impa quietly soothing him as he falls asleep in her arms.

But that's okay.

Holding him again after so long, gently teasing the last bits of blood from his hair, his head resting under her chin as he softly rumbles... it's enough.

She closes her eyes, and Link sighs again, fully asleep.

It's enough.

[holy--milk]

i wouldn't necessarily call it a "plot hole" or anything, but there's something that's been bugging me a little...

it's been established in the canon that HC's "san lang"/"xiao hua" disguise is basically his true form but with both eyes intact and slightly younger looking, right?

and it's also mentioned that XL introduced HC as his younger blood brother to the puqi villagers.

so. does he ever clear this up post-canon, or are the villagers left to forever wonder why the fuck xie-daozhang married his own brother?