#now i'm gonna go to bed

[gydima]

Con O'Neill as the Sheriff of Nottingham in S01E03 of Time Bandits.

[shopwitchvamp]

[lexicals]

[ID: A gif of two cartoon cats booping each other with exaggeratedly large paws several times, before one cat raises up their paw as it grows even larger and then slams it down on the other one. Both are smiling the whole time. End ID.]

-

Was gonna add colour but I ran out of steam lol. Happy boopril fool's

[llamagoddessofficial]

How would your boys be with an MC that likes to play fight? Would they let her win? Would they refuse all together?

Sans: He does enjoy play fighting - but only the relaxed kind, and exclusively with people he really really likes. It's a lot of physical contact for him. You have no idea how much of a privilege it is that he engages with you like that, tussling and teasing when he normally can't even stand to sit too close to somebody. When the play fighting comes out, it's a very reliable sign you're one of his 'forever people'.

Oh, he'll let you win alright; oh noooo, he's pinned under a hot human, oh nooooooo truly he is defeated. He's totally dead, only a kiss can bring him back. It's the only way. Right on the mouth, please.

Red: Play fighting might as well be one of his love languages. He likes it rough, after all. A bonus of having to do a lot of actual fighting while underground is he's very good at controlling his strength, he's aware of his body, he knows exactly when to apply pressure and when to ease off. Red is probably the safest and most fun skeleton to play fight with; he has an extremely gentle nature underneath all that swagger and he loves letting it out.

He enjoys casual displays of his strength. He'll let you think you're winning, then flip you onto your back, or pick you up and toss you over his shoulder, easily disarming you. Though like Sans, he's also not adverse to "losing" and having his very hot human love interest all over him. He'll happily ruin the moment with sexual remarks too.

Skull: He loves play fighting.

... Well... he likes when you TRY to play fight. He appreciates the effort, he likes any consensual contact and anything that shows you're not scared of him. He won't be doing all that much fighting, he's far too big, as soon as he even gently play fights he immediately wins. But he'll act the part, faux collapsing when you've defeated him, even if it's as convincing as a bear pretending to be defeated by a small cat.

You'll win every time. You've gotta understand, though, that play fighting with Skull is playing with fire. He'll get swept up in how cute you look when you have that victorious glimmer in your eyes, and his cute aggression will rapidly rise. You'll end up crushed by cuddles sooner or later.

[eightyuh]

How does bath time work?

⟡ Story behind this special ask here ⟡ Read @wicksend here

[saline-coelacanth]

I love Jay Ninjago!

*Puts him through the horrors, puts him through the horrors, puts him through the horrors, puts him through the h-*

[99griffon]

Don't try to come 'round here spreading sentiments of cheer You told your last white lie, everything is not alright You hope, you pray, you love the light of day But there's no one up there listening tonight

So this is that female rage I keep hearing about, huh? Somebody better come get this bitch before she commits a war crime

literally slammed this shit out at midnight for @asleepyy instead of working on commissions

One of my classic "just a doodle" moments... I'm gonna go pass out -- the song is Blood of Angels by Brown Bird

[expelliarmus]

[elvenbeard]

SO. While blorbo-modding I stumbled over something (that is probably known already but made me all giddy and validated in my cyberware headcanons rn xD).

I think it's a more-or-less popular hc that Kerry is deaf af and has some kind of hearing implants. And I always hc'ed the little golden pieces behind his ears as connected to that in a way (be it just fancy decorative covers for maintenance access for the hearing implants or actual touch-based volume control for example - to mute Kovachek whenever he's talking too much again, for example).

BUT NOW looking at the actual mesh and such in wkit it looks like the golden lines on the outside of his neck are actually supposed to be connected to the bits behind the ears (and I can't unsee it now aaahhh, but I also like the broken-up look). And like. I can see how that would happen, with the body and head/neck being separate parts and Kerry in general having some clipping going on here and there. But also, I've always been a little annoyed at the clipping bc it didn't make sense, why would this little part clip so weirdly in such a triangular shape when it's supposed to end right below his ear... well, cause it's not supposed to end there but actually continues?! What to make of this info now (and also, forever gonna be debating now if I want to "fix" this by restoring more of a look like in the left picture or editing the mesh to get more of the "vanilla" look with the gap between - cause I think otherwise it might clip with his lil music note thingy, which I'd be sad about xD).

But also, no matter what I do, I'm feeling so validated in the hearing aid headcanon that can be synced to a microphone for monitoring BUT intead adding on sth new: the hearing implant is directly connected to his voice box implant, making this whole piece of tech capable of built-in monitoring during concerts :3

[biblically-accurate-dca]

doodle page that gets worse the more you look at it

[fooltofancy]

when you go, i am black and blue / when you go, i am inconsolable

[trensu]

Guess who's baaaaack! It's me, I'm back to writing. My laptop when kaput back in May and I've only recently gotten a replacement. In celebration of this, here's more of stasis in darkness. Enjoy :)

.

“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said. 

“Years? But, why would you want–? I’m–I’m no one, Lord.”

“Don’t say that.”

The god’s voice hadn’t gotten louder, yet his words carried a force that made the room tremble. The air became heavy with it. Wayne’s breathing grew haggard under the pressure of the words. Steve tossed out any idea of false privacy and crossed the room in a few steps to kneel at the other side of the bed. He took Wayne’s free hand to anchor him. Wayne didn’t so much as twitch in his direction but his knuckles went white as he gripped Steve’s hand.

“You gave me your spoils and your stories every night. I felt your love in every word you spoke to me. You’re the reason I’ve been able to exist this long. Wayne Munson, you are the most important person in the world to me."

Wayne let out a wordless cry. The hand in Steve's shook. Steve viscerally remembered how it felt to have the god’s attention like that for the first time. He also remembered how guilty the god sounded after he realized the effect he had on mortals. With a slight grimace, Steve discreetly nabbed the Lord of Night's attention. 

"I think that was a little too much," Steve suggested cautiously in a low tone barely audible over Wayne's sobs. "Maybe dial it back a little?"

The Lord of Night nodded abashedly. When he spoke again, the pressure in his speech noticeably lessened though the love in his words remained.

“So, you see, I needed to meet you in person. To thank you.”

The last part made Wayne weep louder. The grip he had on Steve’s hand increased in strength, and Steve was sort of relieved Wayne was an old man because even this frail, his hands were pretty damn strong. If he’d been any younger, Steve would’ve had bruises for sure. The god waited patiently as Wayne collected himself.

“My Lord, y-you–” Wayne gasped as his crying subsided. “I don’t deserve–”

“Wayne, you crazy old man, are you going to argue with your god?” the Lord of Night said in the same teasing tone he used with Steve all those nights in his pilgrimage. Wayne’s eyes widened.

“N-No! I’d never–!”

The god laughed, playful and bright as a star. Wayne halted his protests to stare in awe again. 

“You know, I usually encourage a bit of dissent but this time, I’m putting my foot down. You do deserve this, okay?”

Wayne nodded dazedly. He still watched the god with soft, warm eyes. His hand twitched in Steve’s as if he wanted to reach up to touch the god. Steve loosened his grip to allow it but Wayne didn’t follow through with the motion.

“...you remind me of someone,” Wayne whispered. The Lord of Night tilted his head curiously.

“Do I?” he asked. At Wayne’s nod, he added, “I hope it’s someone good. I know what people say about me these days, and let me tell you, it’s not super flattering. King of Darkness this and monster herder that, blah, blah, mean and scary, blah.”

“I know better than to pay any mind to hearsay,” Wayne replied. "I’ve found that most people are fools, my Lord." 

The Lord of Night laughed again. Wayne looked delighted. 

The rest of the night continued along the same line. The Lord of Night listened eagerly to Wayne’s every word as he reminisced about past heists and recalled fond childhood memories. Steve kept to himself, for the most part, letting the Lord of Night and his last believer bask in each other’s presence. Wayne stayed awake as long as he could but finally fell asleep as dawn approached. The Lord of Night began to fade as the first rays of the morning peeked through the bedroom window.

“Watch over him for me, please?” the Lord of Night asked Steve. “I’ll be back tonight.”

“Of course, Lord,” Steve replied. 

The sun broke past the horizon and the Lord of Night vanished. Steve took the stone from the bedside table. He wrapped it up carefully in cloth before returning it to his satchel. That level of care probably wasn’t necessary considering it was solid stone but it was the only thing they knew would keep the god tethered to this plane so far from his last shrine. Steve was charged with carrying his god's tether and he would not let him down by being careless with it.

It was also the only thing he had been given that belonged to his god. Typically, a holy warrior would be granted a symbol of their faith by a temple priest once a god had accepted the holy warrior’s offered service. Most of the time it would be a simple pendant or bracelet with a god’s sigil; a mass produced thing any follower could obtain, the only difference being that a holy warrior’s token would carry a particular blessing from the high priest. A holy warrior would carry that as a sign of their commitment until they’ve earned a more prestigious item to replace it during their years of service.

Steve’s journey so far has been as atypical as it could get. Most warriors traveled to their god's grandest temple. They recited that god's specific prayer for a holy warrior's offering, witnessed by a high priest who would then reveal whether the offering was accepted. Steve's god had no official prayers of any sort, much less temples or clergy. Steve's god couldn't really remember his own symbol aside from a vague outline of it; not nearly enough for it to be inscribed on even the simplest of tokens. 

Regardless, Steve wouldn't trade his experience for anything. Most holy warriors toiled for years, even decades, before getting a chance to meet their god. Steve met his god nearly at the beginning though he hadn't known it at the time. He'd been able to see him and speak to him. Steve’s humble offering of servitude had been accepted directly by his god rather than by priestly proxy. So what if his god wasn't able to grant him a token for his pledge? His presence was a privilege Steve would take over any boon.

It was a sentiment Steve knew Wayne understood. Steve scooted his chair closer to the bed where the old man lay sleeping. He wrapped a hand around Wayne's wrist to track his weak pulse, and settled in for his vigil.

–

Steve woke Wayne a handful of times to make sure he drank some water or ate some of the vegetable soup Steve had thrown together using whatever he’d picked from the garden the day before. They chatted for a while; Wayne telling Steve about his life before age and sickness caught up to him. Eventually, Steve was able to coax him back to sleep when it became obvious his energy was fading.

At some point in the day, Wayne’s temperature began to rise. Nothing worrisome yet, but dread trickled into Steve’s veins regardless. The old man had been fighting whatever ailed him for a while now. If a fever overcame him, Steve doubted Wayne would survive it.

When the Lord of Night appeared alongside the fading sunset, he seemed as worried as Steve. Wayne sat in bed, propped up by pillows Steve had strategically placed. His eyes were rheumy but steady.

“You’ve seen the Door already, haven’t you?” the Lord of Night asked Wayne dejectedly.

Wayne’s gaze strayed from the god. He glanced at the corner opposite of the bedroom door. His hands shook as he tried to point that direction. Steve didn't see any door there. The god took Wayne's hand between his own, tangible to his last believer even as he appeared more translucent than the night before.

“It showed up earlier today,” Wayne whispered. The god nodded.

“You don’t have to answer yet, but soon. Once you go through the Door, you’ll be in Death's domain. No god is allowed to enter there besides him. I would have lost my chance to meet you if we’d been delayed any longer.”

“Good thing you have Ser Steve. He got you here real quick from what he told me,” Wayne said with a crooked smile.

“Has he been talking himself up?” the god asked amusedly. “Trying to impress the boss?”

“It’s my first quest,” Steve butted in with mild exasperation borne of embarrassment. He hadn’t expected Wayne to mention him at all during his communion with the Lord of Night. “I have to make a good impression.”

“To make up for the first impression, huh?” the Lord of Night teased. 

Oh no, Steve thought when he caught Wayne’s curious look. He wanted to hide his face in his hands. That would be childish. Steve was a man so he was above that, unfortunately.

“Wayne,” the Lord of Night said with palpable mischief. “In exchange for all the stories you’ve given me these many years, what if I told you how I got my very first holy warrior?”

“I didn’t know better,” Steve groaned weakly in an effort to stop the story before it began in earnest. The Lord of Night made a shushing motion in his direction. 

“It would be a privilege, Lord,” Wayne said with matching mischief.

“Settle in, my loyal follower, and listen closely,” the Lord of Night began with exuberance. “I call this tale The Trial of Nine Nights.”

The rest of the night, the god recounted Steve’s pilgrimage. The way he told it painted Steve as some sort of gallant hero. It was suspenseful and whimsical. It didn’t sound like Steve’s experience at all. Yet every word was true, told with a flair that Steve himself would never have imagined. Wayne had hung on his god’s every word, despite the sporadic interruptions caused by coughing fits.

“The way you tell stories…” Wayne said faintly between coughs as the story wound to an end. “You…really do remind me of…someone. My little starmaker*. He was…” His voice trailed off weakly as he tried to catch his breath again.

“Rest now. Tell me about him tonight, Wayne,” the Lord of Night commanded as he disappeared with the arrival of dawn.

Wayne’s temperature seemed to climb with the sun. Steve did what he could to help. He stripped the bed of blankets and draped cold, damp towels over Wayne’s brow. More than once Wayne had asked Steve to answer the door.

“Someone’s knocking,” Wayne insisted.

“I’ve checked already,” Steve lied. He hadn’t heard a single knock all day, much less one coming from the very door-less spot Wayne kept indicating. “No one’s there.”

Wayne drifted in and out of a restless slumber. Despite Steve’s efforts, the fever had not lowered by nightfall. The Lord of Night paced at the foot of Wayne’s bed with a caged restlessness. Wayne had yet to wake up. 

“I don’t think he’s going to make it. Can you do anything for him?” Steve asked, hesitantly. “You came here to help him, didn’t you?”

“No,” the Lord of Night said shortly. “I can’t. I’m not a god of medicine. I’m not a healer.”

Each word was said with increasingly helpless frustration.

“I’m not strong enough to calm his dreams. I can’t ease his pain,” the Lord of Night said angrily. “At this rate, I won’t even be able to apologize to him.”

“Apologize for what?” Steve asked incredulously. Steve’s question went unheard. The Lord of Night tugged at his hood as if trying to hide his not-face. He gave up his pacing and slumped defeatedly on the chair beside Wayne’s bed.

“His family has sustained me for so long. He’s so devoted to me, and I keep failing him,” the god said, voice thick with shame. The brooding silence that followed was unlike the Lord of Night’s usual demeanor.

Steve wanted to protest the god’s claim. He was tempted to ask why the god believed he’d failed his last follower. Steve had seen people who’ve scorned and rejected their gods for a multitude of reasons. Wayne had not behaved like any of those people. Wayne had been so happy to see the god, Steve couldn’t imagine Wayne wanting an apology of any sort.

Before Steve could steel himself to ask, Wayne finally stirred awake.The Lord of Night straightened and drew the chair closer to his last follower. Steve situated himself near the corner Wayne had claimed to see a door. There wasn’t anything Steve could realistically achieve by placing himself between Wayne and the unseen door. When Death’s Door knocked, there was nothing a mortal being could do to keep it from opening. Regardless, Steve hoped he could provide some semblance of comfort by standing guard. 

Wayne’s eyes were glassy. He lay limp and disoriented, making not a sound outside his labored breathing. Neither the Lord of Night nor Steve spoke. Steve didn’t want to startle the man nor bring his attention to the unseen door. After a few minutes, Wayne finally noticed his bedside companion. 

“You,” he croaked in a daze. “I know you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” The somber tone went unnoticed by Wayne whose entire face brightened with an unexpected joy. 

“Eddie,” Wayne said shakily. 

“What?”

“Eddie, you’re here,” Wayne said with more love and joy than Steve had ever heard from another person. He felt a momentary flash of envy that someone could hold another so dear, before it hit him that Wayne was speaking to the Lord of Night. The god seemed as dumbstruck as Steve over it.

“Is…is that me?” the Lord of Night asked. The god sounded so young and lost. It reminded Steve of Dustin and his friends when they were small. It inspired all the same protective instincts.

“‘course it’s you, Eddie,” Wayne said fondly. 

“Eddie,” the Lord of Night whispered. “Oh, it is. It is me. I’m here.” 

The words rang through the air. The finality in them nearly deafened Steve. The words were a realization that shifted the entire cosmos. The air he breathed, the light he saw, the very world he perceived had changed fundamentally. It was a change so loud and obvious, Steve was certain every human left on earth and everyone beyond the Door knew it happened. Yet between one blink and the next, the world remained the same as it ever was. Everything that had been still was and would continue to be for as long as the stars burn.

Inexplicably, Steve experienced a bout of vertigo at the shift that had and hadn’t happened. He fought back a wave of nausea that accompanied it.

“Eddie,” Wayne rasped over the rattling of his weak lungs. No longer translucent, the god appeared solid and real in a way he hadn’t even at the shrine where Steve first encountered him. Wayne’s wrinkled hand reached out to gently cup the Lord of Night’s cheek.

"Hey, Uncle Wayne," the Lord of Night said with a new voice. 

"My starmaker, I missed you. So much. But how're you here? You were gone, you di–"

"We didn't want you to be alone," Eddie, Lord of Night, responded thickly, leaning into the hand and covering it with his own.  "We wanted to thank you for taking care of us all these years."

"Don’t,” Wayne wheezed, teary. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eddie. You deserved so much more than your pa or me ever gave you."

"No! No, Uncle Wayne, don't apologize," he said earnestly. "You were perfect. You gave us a home when pa died. We were so little and you protected us. You loved us. That's all we ever wanted."

“Oh, Eddie,” Wayne said in a heartbroken rasp. “That damn door’s been knocking all day. Who'll take care of you when I'm gone, Eddie?" 

"Don't you worry about that, Uncle Wayne. Steve's gonna look after me.”

“Are you sure?”

The Lord of Night took off his hood and turned back to look at Steve for the first time since he sat himself at Wayne’s side. All the air left Steve’s lungs in one fell swoop. His god had a face.

His god was beautiful.

The Lord of Night’s skin remained pale, providing a stark contrast to his large, dark brown eyes glittered with bittersweet joy and sorrow. His lips, full and a soft shade of pink, were pulled into a wide, mischievous grin that dimpled his cheeks. His dark eyebrows were almost hidden under wild curls. His hair draped over the slope of his shoulders and matched his eyes wonderfully.

Steve willed himself to stay steadfast and strong under the god’s gaze. The Lord of Night’s grin twisted a bit as if he wasn't entirely pleased by what he saw. The nausea from before came back because Steve knew what people looked like when he'd disappointed them. As usual, he had no idea what he'd done wrong.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He already promised,” Eddie, the Lord of Night, said. He turned back to Wayne and gently wiped the sweat off the old man's brow. 

“Good,” Wayne said with a. “You need someone takin’ care of you, the way you get in trouble all the time.”

“We weren’t that bad,” Eddie said with a watery smile. After a pause, Eddie continued reluctantly. “Uncle Wayne, if you need to answer the Door, you can. I won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Wayne murmured. “I’m tired, Eddie.”

“You won’t be for long, I promise, just answer the Door.”

Wayne’s breathing slowed. His eyes drooped closed. Eddie clung to his hand until it went lax. A choked sound escaped him when Wayne’s breathing stopped. Steve instinctively stepped forward to comfort him but Eddie abruptly stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. He whirled around and stumbled towards the empty space Steve left behind. 

“You better take care of him. Wayne is a good man, he’s earned–” Eddie said to…the wall? But stopped and reeled back. His mouth curved down in a scowl. Eddie’s eyes were dark and glowering as he stared at something there that Steve himself could not see.

“Oh, fuck you, I know I can’t do anything to you but–”

Eddie stopped again. He looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone?

“I just want to know that he’ll be happy and saf–hey, asshole, I’m still talking you, don’t you dare– FUCK,” Eddie shouted at nothing. He panted in anger. Steve cleared his throat.

“My Lord?”

“I forgot how much of a dick he is. It’s not like I was asking for details! I don’t fucking care what’s past his stupid Door. It’s not a crime to want your family to, like, go somewhere good after. He could’ve just said yes or no!” Eddie ranted.

“My Lord, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh,” Eddie paused. “Right. You wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. Not yet. Not for a long time, hopefully.”

------

*starmaker - so this is a reference to some lore i dropped in the previous scene during some edits I made after I had posted it on tumblr. basically, the legend explains why bedtime stories are a thing and that the lord of night creates a star for every story that impresses him. a really good book or author will get called a starmaker, though to the general population it's just a thing people say to denote greatness in stories without context of where the saying came from.

------

and now we're all caught up with what i've written so far, wow! but don't worry, i still have plenty more to write, stay tuned.

[eliotlime]

Hiii launching my ko-fi memberships on this random saturday by posting some comic snippets! You can get access to my comics & sketches via the Fry tier and access to more mature/weirder stuff I'm too shy to post under the Fish tier (uncropped on my discord server winks, needless to say be 18+ for this 😭)

I'll still be posting as often as I do on socmeds but my ko-fi discord is where I'll be posting most of it as I finish stuff! I draw pretty much everyday and only post about a quarter of it publicly.

Stuff will be crossposted onto my ko-fi page itself but it's mainly the discord server that's being updated all the time so it's less spammy 👍

I've already got a bunch of stuff posted on there so plz join 🙏

[irafook]

A-yuan ❤

[giggly-squiggily]

Hi hello I work this weekend and I'm beyond over it but here's a quick tododeku dabble cause the new episode made me ugly cry and Lee!Todoroki makes me feel better <3

CW: Foot Tickles, very very mild suggestive humor

Todoroki was going to die. No, really- he was!

Hiding in the first closet he found, he held his breath in wait- his heart racing a mile a minute. It was so loud he was sure his pursuer was using it to track him.

The thought alone was nearly enough to make him laugh- he bit his lip to keep down the giggles.

“Shooootooo!” The voice was close. Todoroki straightened up, freezing all over with his hands clamped to his lips. He heard footsteps coming closer, the sound of soft laughter muffled by the door. When they suddenly stopped, he nearly gasped.

Then, they kept on walking.

Todoroki didn’t move- stiff as a statue as he waited. He waited until he couldn’t hear the footsteps any longer, until the anticipation in his bones yielded enough to return feeling to his limbs. Then, and only then did he open the door and look.

The dorm hall was empty. The background was filled with sounds of his fellow classmates in various rooms going about their day. He listened for a moment longer.

Nothing. The coast seemed to be clear. He dashed out as silently as he could, running for the safety of his room-

Something slithered around his ankle. Black Whip- Midoriya’s additional quirk. He was down and out in seconds.

“Nooo!” He cried out, already laughing as he was dragged across the floor. “Don’t! Please! Have mercy on me!”

“Mercy is for the weak!” Midoriya cried back, his villain facade fading with his own giggles as Todoroki clawed at the floor. The whole gesture reminded him of a reluctant cat. “Beg all you want- you belong to me now!”

“That doesn’t sound too bad thou-AHH!” Todoroki let out a shriek when he was finally within Midoriya’s reach, his boyfriend scoping up his ankle with ease. “Waahhahit nohohohot thahahhat!”

“Huh?” Do that” you said?” He cooed, slowly dragging his fingers against Todoroki’s socked sole. “Eager aren’t we? If you wanted me to tickle you this bad, you could have just stayed put! Very well then- tickle tickle tickle!”

Todoroki could only thrash about on the floor, his laughter taking a new pitch as he struggled to grab at Midoriya’s hands. “Dohohohoohn’t yoohhoohu dhahahahare! Gehahahahahha, cohohohome ohohohohn!” He let out a small squeal when Midoriya focused on a particularly bad spot along the base of his toes, nearly making him slam his head into the floor with how much he squirmed. “Mihihihidoriya, pleahhahahahase!”

“Hehe, you look like a fish! It’s like I’m wrangling in the catch of the day!” The green haired hero laughed as he took a seat, Todoroki’s foot still trapped in his grasp as he watched the other flail and cackle. Seeing him smiling so suddenly gave him a terrible idea.

“Somewhere, beyond the sea,” He began to sing.

“DOOHOHOOHN’T YOOHOHOHOU DAHHAHAHRE!” Todoroki cackled, pounding the ground beneath him as he struggled between hiding his flushed face or kicking at the other with his free foot. “HHAHAHHAHVE MEHEHEHRCY!”

“Someone is waiting for meeee~” Deku drew out the notes as he skittered his fingers up his boyfriend’s foot with a flourish, melting at the hiccupy laughs he produced. “And I forgot the rest of the wooooords~” He gave the trapped foot within his grasp one last tickle before releasing him, crawling up his tired frame and coming to a stop at his exhausted but oh so lovely smile. “Something something, I love you. That’s how the song goes, right?”

“Eheheheheh..hehehee..suhuhure. Let’s go with thahaht..” Todoroki groaned, running a hand through his messy bangs as he struggled for composure. When he could finally catch a breath, he glared halfheartedly up at his smiling boyfriend. “You’re terrible- who hooks someone in with their quirk and tickles their feet like that?”

“I do!” Midoriya laughed openly, making Todoroki giggle as well. “I should go fishing more often- I caught myself one heck of a beauty!”

“So you did. Bet you can’t wait to show off to the guys what you reeled in.”

“Heck no- they can go eat fish sticks out of the freezer. I already told you- you’re all mine.” Midoriya leaned in, kissing him slowly and gently- just the way he liked it. Todoroki could feel his heart racing, warmth spreading through his core and making his toes curl. Oh how he loved the way Midoriya kissed him.

“We should go somewhere. Before someone interrupts.” He somehow managed to gasp out when they pulled away- his brain and lips suddenly working far slower than he’d like.

“Sure. Your room or mine?” When did Midoriya get this bold? He could feel his entire face burn brightly at the question, worsening when the little bastard smiled knowingly. “You’re so pretty when you blush, Shoto.”

“I’m gonna dump ice down your back if you keep acting up.” Todoroki threatened, once again unable to hold on to any real glare as he was swept off his feet, carried away to whichever room Midoriya picked. “You’re lucky I love you- else I’d turn you into a human ice sculpture.”

The green haired teen merely leaned in and kissed him again, that warm feeling coming back like a cozy blanket on a chilly day. “I love you too.”

Thanks for reading! :D

[azherwind-art]

Some say more than three hours passed before he went to sleep It means nothing that I’m posting this at nearly 3am for me, nothing at all