#(I've seen it spelled both ways)

[hupla222]

Galar Girls

Introducing my two girls from Galar, Coline and Ember, done by @xabi0407.

First of these two is Coline, my PostwickShipping girl. She's peppy, active, and excitable, ready to see everything Galar has to offer. She aims to become the next champion but also just wants to have fun along the way, travelling with her best friend Bede Jr (more info on him here), although she's unaware of his hatred for her. Her first partner Pokémon is a Scorbunny that she received as a birthday present from her Uncle Leon.

Second up is Ember, she's a LionheartedShipping kid and is Coline's older cousin. She's the calm, calculated, and rational type, taking more after her mum than her dad. She spends most of her time reading or helping Sonia out in the lab. But that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy a good battle very now and then. Some say she has a real knack for it. She was also responsible for babysitting both Coline and Bede when they were little. Her first partner Pokémon is a Nickit.

[marshmallow-biscuit-blog]

Apologies had to join the stupid trend.

[figs-oliomedley]

The biggest thing keeping me rooting for Skailor in canon is the way she makes Kai crumple like a leaf

he literally burns himself with his own fire when talking to her oh my god

[dbphantom]

maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...

[theprecuresystem]

Pigeons!

Okay, so we had to head out today and it was hotter and sunnier than usual, so I put on this totes cutesy outfit expecting to head up to where I gotta go, and head back - nothin' all to special.

However, I ran across this puffed up sunbathing cutie!! This pigeon is puffed up so she can soak in more heat and retain it for longer! She was in a sunpatch spot, too! I love pigeons so much, so I JUST had to snap a quick shot of her. I love her so much.

What a lovely lil bird, right? The little head tuck, the puffed up feathers, the orb shape! Totes adorbs and super exciting to see one today! Best part? She's not the only exciting friend we got to meet on our way up and back! Say hello to... Pigeon #2, sitting atop an abandoned building!

So regal-looking! Birds are just totes exciting, ain't they? I love 'em endlessly, which is why I was delighted and super hyped up when I saw... three more pigeons waddling along! This one's a video rather than an image, though!

[Video ID: Three grey and white pigeons waddling along a tarmac and gravel road, before heading behind a red recycling bin]

Hopin' all of you that follow this blog can enjoy these birds vibin' in the sun! I know I did today, what super charming little babies!

[habits-white-rabbit]

Malachai Boardman // Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Take a little walk to the edge of town and go across the tracks. Where the viaduct looms like a bird of doom as it shifts and cracks. Where secrets lie in the border fires, in the humming wires. Hey man, you know you're never coming back. Past the square, past the bridge, past the mills, past the stacks, on a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man in a dusty black coat with a red right hand.

[pearl-kite]

For the ask game:

💎 🌿 :)

💎 What’s your most prized possession?

Hm. I started collecting old books, like printed in the early 20th century or older, and my grandma decided to give me a couple of her dad's old school books. One of them is one of the readers that schools would have with a bunch of different short stories and poems and excerpts, and the other is a copy of Irving's The Sketchbook. It has a note to Sextus Surname as a reward for good attendance written on the end sheet. He didn't attend past middle school, but kept them. One of them has a pencil rubbing of some kind of coin I can't decipher.

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.

Okay, I have this navy short sleeve button-down that has liddol fruits printed all over it that my mom jokingly pointed out at JCPenney's, some black jeans, and then these boots that I spoiled myself with as a reward when I got hired to the school district if I had known I'd resign six months later I would have saved the money soiguessi'mhappyididn'tknow

It's kind of the only ensemble I have that feels like an actual outfit instead of just a top and jeans. I am going to be heartbroken when the shirt wears out.

[enstars-songs-tournament]

Round 3

Remember to vote based on your opinion of the song, NOT your opinion of the character who sings it

Shisen Hold me tight - ENGRAVE LIVES

[shhhhimwatchingthis]

Sort of bums me out that so many people didn't seem to Get the Cat King so here are my thoughts:

So let's start with Edwin's crime. He uses something the cat desires (a sardine) to lure the cat to him and then uses an enchanted string to trap the cat with magic. He demands the answer to a question in exchange for its release. Edwin knows it is dangerous to use magic on a cat, that it violates Rules but he does it anyway.

Binding a creature and agreeing to set them free under a certain condition is very Classic Fairytale. its also a favourite trope of Neil Gaiman's (he did not write this show but his influence is there). In both the Sandman and his novel Stardust (and the film adaptation) trapping a creature with magic and demanding a task/favour in exchange for their freedom is an extremely important plot point. Edwin binding a cat and demanding an answer in exchange is exactly in line with this Fairytale trope

And so is the Cat Kings response. The Cat King is a trickster. What he does to Edwin is exactly what Edwin did to one of his subjects. He entices Edwin, he binds him with magic and when Edwin demands to be free he turns his own words against him "why all the fuss for one little spell?" Edwin did something wrong. He imposed his will/magic on another creature and the Cat King is punishing him for it in a way that is poetic. Its fairytale. its trickster. its classic.

I've also seen people complain that the task Edwin was given 'count all the cats' is 'impossible'...except its fucking not. Edwin does it. He does it so well he actually BEATS the Cat King ("you didn't count yourself" Are.You.Kidding.Me. Classic!Fairytale!Vibes!)

The Cat Kings choice to bind Edwin to Port Townsend is good on so many levels. From a storytelling perspective it forces characters who can travel anywhere in the world to stay in one place, and increases the stakes for these characters who are supposed to be on the run. From a genre perspective...its an excellent use of fairytale tropes using both Rules of magic, a protagonist who is unkind to a seemingly weak creature who is punished by a more powerful law, a binding, a task to complete, etc

Which just leaves the character perspective which it ALSO does really fucking well and introduces the final aspect to the Cat Kings character. He's seductive. He is responsible for Edwin, 100 years old ghost boy, finally unpacking his internalized homophpbia. he is the catalyst (cat pun not intended)

He pushes Edwin, challenges him, at times literally forces the truth out of Edwin, but he really never does violate his consent. Significantly Edwin is attracted to him, like its an important part of his character that he is. He may not like the Cat King but he is attracted to him!

The Cat King is such a great example of a trickster, a morally grey character who imposes a sense of justice on Edwin after he crosses a line, but also has his own selfish interests and meddles. Hes so important to the plot of the show, to Edwin's character arc, to the genre.

And he's just fun. Unapologetically queer, powerful, complicated. Silly little outfits. Petty cat behavior. Deep heart.

Some of you just didn't get it. And I'm sorry for you. because the Cat King is Excellent actually.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: discussion of past abuse, Simon’s trauma Request: take your baby to work day

You're wide eyed at the front door.

"You sure you guys will be alright?" Your voice is clear, but your hand trembles on the door handle, bottom lip tugged across your teeth.

"We'll be okay sweetheart. But if you're uncomfortable, or it's too much, you should take him-"

"No, no. I'm fine. You're not supposed to bring the baby to OB appointments anyway. It's frowned upon." You roll your eyes, tipping up to kiss Ry on the cheek. "Just... don't let anyone breathe on him, or kiss him, okay? His immune system is still fragile compared to ours. I packed you like, three bottles so hopefully he'll take them if he gets hungry. Text me if-"

"Mama." He holds Orion in one arm, and grabs your hand with the other. You're frightened, and stressed, and he's driven to comfort you, the need to soothe you throbbing across his skull. "I've got this. We'll be just fine. Text me when you're done. Get yourself a tea or something afterwards, alright? Everything is going to be okay." You nod.

"Right, of course. You're... you're right. And you're going to a military base, I doubt there's a safer place around."

"C'mere." He tugs you into his side, and you wrap your arms around his stomach, nestling in opposite Orion. "I need you to do something f'me."

"What?"

"I need you to swear to me you'll tell your doctor about the dizzy spells." There's been a reminder card about your twelve week postpartum appointment on the fridge for two weeks now, and after you finally confessed you have been getting dizzy since Orion was born, and one time had even fallen, he decided to skip several steps by making the appointment for you. You were... not pleased, but he made it very clear, he's not playing a game with your health. He's planning his battles strategically now, putting pieces in play slowly, working towards his larger goal, but this was something he refused to compromise on.

"Okay." You whisper, burying your face in his chest. "I will." He lands a kiss to the top of your head.

"We'll see you soon. It'll be over before you know it, and maybe we can get a takeaway for dinner?" Your lips crack into a toothy smile.

"Sounds good to me."

"Alright, lad. Let's go see daddy's team." Orion stares at him, brown eyes curious, and watchful. He’s still not used to it, this feeling. This life, with you and his baby. Everyday, he has to stop to ground himself, anchor himself. Break from the cycle of a downward spiral, obsessive thoughts playing with his mind, counting down the million and one ways he could lose you, or fail you, or both. He’s careful, he’s diligent, he’s in control. He’d never make a mistake like he did before, the error of judgement that cost him his mother, his brother and his family-

But the incessant fear never ceases.

Fortunately, his anchor now is you. You, when you let him carry you to bed, when you watch him rock Orion to sleep as you stand in the doorway, you who curls up next to him on the couch now, fingers curled into his shirt like you’re afraid he might disappear. Your touch heals. Your words comfort. He can't fathom a future without you, or Ry, now.

If he thinks back on it, he wonders if he knew all along. If all the things he felt the night he met really meant forever, just like he had wished. A fantasy turned reality-

to have and to hold.

His stomach turns, wondering if his father ever felt this, if he ever loved, or if he was always just a monster, the ouroboros of victim turned abuser, the man who terrorized his mother, his brother and himself, long past the time Simon finally tore him to pieces, cracked his ribs, beat him into the ground.

Tommy broke the cycle, and from the moment he laid eyes on his son he knew.... he would too.

Price's secretary looks like she's seen an actual ghost. "Hey, Lindsey. Is he in?" She's staring, flicking back and forth to Orion and then up to his face, mouth slightly agape.

"Y-yeah he's..." she points over her shoulder at his closed door. "Lieutenant, did you... is that... is that your baby?" He nods, mouth curving into a proud smile, stepping close enough so she can get a good look at him. She almost jerks back, clearly not used to being so close to him. He's been here and there, off and on base all week catching up on a backlog of reports, but hasn't said a word to anyone, and he keeps everyone on base at arm's length except the 141.

"It is." Her shocked expression melts, hesitantly reaching her pointer finger towards Ry, allowing him to wrap it up in his chubby little fist. "This is Orion." She smiles at him, and then the baby, kindly.

"He's beautiful." She excuses herself when the phone rings, and he settles the tension burning between his shoulder blades. He didn't mentally prepare for this moment, didn't believe he had to. The expectation of Price's acceptance was assumed but now, his trepidation is a surprise.

He told his captain he needed to take leave for something really important, but never said for what. All he told him is that he'd loop him in soon, and that he was sorry he wouldn't be available for the next op. If John was curious, he didn't let him know, didn't push him for more info, didn't pester him. He just sent the forms to Simon's email to be filled out with a postscript:

Looking forward to hearing what this is all about.

And when Simon crosses the threshold of his office, baby in one arm, backpack stuffed with nappies and bottles in the other-

John Price laughs.

It's not the huff of a chuckle that Kate usually gets out of him, or the rolling guffaw that he gives the guys sometimes when he's particularly amused.

No, this is different. It starts in his belly and then rolls upwards, all the way until his shoulders are shaking and he's wiping his eyes.

Simon scowls, and John holds both his hands up, palms out. Surrender. "This is a good enough reason as any to take a chunk of all that leave saved up." He stands, stepping around to get a closer look. "What's his name then?"

"Orion." John nods thoughtfully. The backs of his fingers brush along the baby's arm, gently, slowly, a flicker of longing, of sadness, arcing across his face before it dissipates.

"The giant hunter Zeus banished to the skies." Organized stacks of paper sit in neat little piles on top of John's desk, authorizations he'd know anywhere. They're moving out. "Where's his mum?"

"At a doctor's appointment." Orion gurgles, and Simon pats his back, bouncing him slowly from side to side.

"You with her?" The answer is immediate.

"Gonna marry her." John's eyes fill with mirth.

"But she doesn't know that yet, does she."

"No," Simon sighs, "but she will. 'ts why I needed the leave. Besides," he motions to the infant tucked in his arm, "this, helping take care of him, taking care of her, I need to get them moved to a secure location. She's in a second level flat right now, with street facing windows. It's makin' my skin itch." Price will get it, Simon knows he will understand. He has his own secret at home, tucked away in a house only Simon and Laswell know about, just in case.

"Take it slow, don't want to spook her. Although I can't imagine she's too skittish if she took you to bed." He smirks. "You've got the time you requested. Had to call in a substitute for this one, but we'll need you on the next."

"How long?"

"Five weeks, maybe more. I'll ring when we're back on base." Five weeks. The clock is ticking, a bomb waiting to detonate, a guillotine waiting to sever his time with his family, his duty dragging him away.

"Alright." He concedes. Cross that bridge when he comes to it.

If Price sees his reluctance, he doesn't comment on it. "Bird'll be here in six hours. Boys are in the rec room, if you want to see 'em." Simon nods, shifting the baby in his arms as he heads towards the door. "And Simon," he turns, locking eyes with his captain, raw emotion plain on both their faces. Price gives him a genuine smile. "Congratulations. You're going to be a great father."

There's a lump in his throat as he crosses the campus to the rec room, his nose dipping across Ry's head, breathing him in as deep as he can behind the black cloth mask. "He's gonna be your godfather, little man. We just have to get Mama to agree, don't we?" He tugs the building's door open, ignoring the streams of chatter suddenly grinding to a halt in the hallway. Once he makes it to the rec room and sees that no one else is inside, just Johnny and Gaz battling it out in an intense game of pool, he slips the mask off his face and locks the door.

Soap is the first one to see him. "Steeeamin' jesus, LT is that a bairn!?" Kyle chokes on his water.

"Is that your baby, Riley?" They both scramble forward, Johnny whistling in disbelief.

"Aye, he's got to be. Look at the size of 'im."

"Johnny." Simon gives him the 'settle down' look, but the Sergeant only grins impishly.

"He's hers, innit he?" Gaz reaches, and Orion watches him with interest. "The girl from the bar. The one who lives close to me." Johnny's eyes go wider than globes.

"Ach Ghost, ye been busy wit' that boa-"

"Johnny." He hisses, and Kyle barks a laugh, reaching. Simon doesn't balk about handing Orion over, even though you were cautious about letting other people be around him. This is his team. He trusts them implicitly.

"He's a heavy lad, isn't he?" Kyle bounces him back and forth, all the while Ry stares at him with his head tipped back, mesmerized. "Looks jus' like you."

"Maybe a wee bit more handsome." Johnny's leaning around Kyle, his hand on Ry's back. They're mooning over him, two decorated, strategically brilliant sergeants, cooing at a baby like a bunch of sooks, as Johnny would say.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, a text from you letting him know you're finished, and heading home.

>Has he eaten?

>No, hasn't seem interested.

>Thank god.

Knowing you're probably in pain makes him antsy to get back, and he glances at the guys. "You movin' out in a few hours?"

"Aye, lookin' for some sort of stolen intelligence. Shouldnae be too long. Got a rent-a-Lieutenant and everythin'. Ye'll be back for the next?"

"I will. Stay frosty out there. I expect you all back in one piece."

He triple checks the carseat, testing the straps and the strength of the seatbelt before finally deciding it's secure enough, for the hundredth time today. He takes one last look, and presses a kiss to Orion's head. "Ready, bub? Let's go home and see mama."

[bunnys-kisses]

Hey bunny love , i heard some great things about your bakery so i decided to come and try too , i would like a butter tart with a milkshake please oh and make it nice and sweet with lando norris (💗)

barkey menu!

if you want your own order! check out the original post and i can bake somethin' up for ya! thank you for those lovely request!! did you know that butter tarts are actually from the region of canada i'm from!

additional message from sender: Hey bunny love HELP you see the order that i’ve done i forgot to clarify that i need it in a best friend inexperienced reader x lando , SORRY AGAIN (💗)

butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + milkshake (size kink) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, inexperienced!reader, size difference/kink, friends-to-lovers, missionary, romantic/mushy, gentle sex, marriage pact

you and lando had a deal. by the time you hit twenty-five you two would get married. the two of you had been lifelong friends and at the time thought that no one would actually want to date you two.

so the pact was made.

you had honestly forgotten about it years later. it was a pact you made when you were both dumb teenagers and lando's career as a racer hadn't taken off. by this point you had expected him to find some super hot model to date. not the best friend he's had for years!

until after you twenty-fifth birthday you received a text message.

it simply said, "will be home in a few days, where did you want to have our first date?" and before you could question him about what the hell he was talking about. you remembered his boyish smile when you linked pinkies with him.

lando was beyond relieved to see you. you picked him up from the airport and drove him back to your flat. you had laughed as you merged onto the highway.

"so a date, huh?"

"well, yeah. i mean i wasn't going to show up with a ring!" he laughed, "did you forget or something?" he almost seemed a little hurt.

"no, no." you said, "i just thought you would've found someone else by now! i mean you're surrounded by pretty girls all day."

he shrugged, "yeah, yeah. but none of them are you. i was honestly worried that you would've found someone too! i mean i can't date you if you're already with someone." he laughed once more.

being on a date with him was like hanging out with him in your youth. expect every time he wanted to kiss you, he asked. and when he kissed you. you felt a spark in your gut.

you were just at a local pub you had always gone to. there was no need for fancy first dates. eventually lando had his arm around you while you sat in the booth and the two of you watched the football game.

when you were teens you were especially into it. but over time he made you cheer for the team he cheered for. in exchange you forced him to like your favourite cheesy movie. (which he would admit now, wasn't that terrible!).

"I want to keep kissing you." he said honestly in your ear.

you picked up a fry and fed it to him. when he swallowed it, you turned to kiss him on the lips, "you don't have to ask me, norris. i've seen every mole on your ass."

he laughed and leaned in for another kiss. but before he did, he said, "i want to be a gentleman."

that sentiment lasted all the way to the bedroom. you had wished you had tidied up a little bit more of your bedroom, but you might have just been over thinking everything as you took off your t-shirt.

"lando... please be gentle, it's been like a million years since i last had sex." you admitted as you played with the t-shirt between your fingers nervously.

he looked at you with a curious glance, "who was the last person you slept with? when did this happen?" there was a small curl of jealousy in his gut.

you replied, "i mean like, not since the one, one-night stand i had in my first year of uni... since then it's been a dry spell."

he nodded, he understood. but part of him really wanted to be your first time. but hey, he had an entire lifetime to make up for it! he noticed how you gazed at him when he took his shirt off. "like what you see?"

you chuckled, "yes. you've always been handsome, lando. too handsome for me!"

he shook his head and took off his belt, "no. just handsome enough for you." then pulled down his shorts before he got into bed with you, pulling you down onto the floral printed covers next to him.

he looked nice in just a pair of black briefs. you couldn't believe this was really happening. to have your legs tangled up in his, his lips on yours. hands roaming each other's bodies.

it was something that would've made sixteen year old you blush.

"wait, wait.' he said, "give me a second." then got out of bed, he left the bedroom to go to the living room where all of his belongings still there. he came back with the shiny foil of a condom. he beamed at you, "have to play it safe." before he climbed back into bed with you.

he loved the sight of you. you were so pretty, ever since you two were younger. he always thought you were the prettiest girl at school, even if you didn't believe it. now, he'd just have to tell you every day how pretty you were.

he got his briefs off and the condom on before he put you on your back and got between your legs. he knelt between them with his cock at full attention. he admired the sight of you.

"i can't believe you kept true to your word." you chuckled and rubbed your face as if to wipe the blush off.

he smiled at you, "why wouldn't i? i made a promise." he leaned in towards you and kissed you on the cheek, "i was practically counting down the days. it was hard to keep it all inside, not when i was constantly thinking about you."

"i hate that i'm inexperienced."

"don't care. i have a whole life time to show learn everything with you." his voice was tinged with romance and you felt what you could only describe as love bloom in your chest.

you always had feelings for him, and see them returned made you only feel hot in the face. he kissed at those same cheeks and palmed your breasts.

"someone's into those." you chuckled.

"i always thought they were so pretty." he said almost breathless, "in those stupid dresses you wore in university. remember when i threw my hoodie over you, it was because i didn't want anyone else looking at you."

you remembered them, you were trying something new at the time. and those dresses really made you breasts noticeable. you chuckled, "god, i remember that. or that time you took off your rain jacket and zipped it up to my chin."

"i just thought you were so painfully pretty." he took his cock and rubbed it up against your wet pussy. he used to have dreams about it. he always wanted to sink himself into you and just fuck your sweet cunt.

you held onto the covers under you as you tensed for a moment in anticipation for lando's cock. you held you breath as he slowly sank in. you let out a sharp noise and lando eased your mind with kisses on your lips.

"that's it." he praised with sweetness on his tongue. he thought you looked so beautiful under him, like you always belonged there, "are you okay?" he asked.

you nodded, "yeah, i'm doing great. just... not used to it." you took a deep breath.

lando held onto you and said softly, "don't worry, i'll go gentle. don't want to hurt my wife on the first try."

you looked at him and chuckled, "and what if i'm not marriage material in a year?"

lando shook his head, "i don't wanna hear it." then sealed it with a kiss as he used your hips to rub your against his cock. the movements were small, but slowly building up in a decent peace. he wanted to make sure that he didn't hurt you.

you held his face and continued to kiss him. when he eventually pulled away, you were both soon panting. he rutted up into you and moved your hips at a similar pace. he loved that your expression was starting to change to one filled with pleasure.

he thought you were beautiful even then.

"i've thought about this for years. i always wondered what you'd look like under me, or on top, or anywhere really. i just dreamt about having you."

"you could've asked me out sooner, norris." you smiled at him. you felt a swell in your chest.

lando blushed a little and replied, "i couldn't find the words. but then when i remembered, i knew i had to jump at the chance to have you."

you wrapped your arms and legs around him and said, "well mister lando norris, you have me. now and forever."

he broke out into a grin, it was so cheesy. even though he had his cock inside of you. but he loved it. he loved you. he kissed you again before he started to thrust a little heavier.

the intimacy between you two was strong, but the actually movements were softer. lando's lips felt so nice against your neck and along your jaw. every kiss felt like worship.

his hands explored your sides, almost making you giggle loudly. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears from the pleasure in your veins.

the bed creaked under your movements. you felt the lust warm in your gut. you clutched onto his shoulders as he kept his steady pace. you panted heavily, "i'm close, fuck, lando. i'm close!"

"i know, i know. me too." he groaned as he moved. he was so big compared to you. and you felt so small, but in a good way. he was just perfect for you and you were for him.

you always felt protected by him.

you two kissed once more and you moaned into the kiss. he was panting through his nose as he pressed his cock into you as deep as it would go.

you tensed up around him and his cock twitched inside of you. and together you both came, pressed against on another as orgasm gripped you.

it felt so good.

you could get used to this. the movements slowed to a stop and you broke the kiss to catch your breath. you panted heavily as you tried to pull yourself together.

"so good." he laid on top of you for a moment, embracing your warmth below him. you wrapped your arms around him tightly and kissed his sweaty temple.

you both laid there. it felt nice. maybe you wouldn't mind keeping to the marriage pact you made when you were a teen. it wouldn't be bad to be married to your best friend.

he yawned before he moved off of you, "i gotta get you a nice ring. something as beautiful as you."

-

you didn't get married at twenty-five. it would take about three years before you had your special day.

his fingers interlocked with yours and he held them up towards the stream of morning light through the window. "you know." he said, "i used to write your name with my last name when we were kids."

you chuckled and looked to him, "the crush was that big."

he nodded, "yeah, i mean, you ruined all other girls for me. but i'm glad. let's ruin ourselves for anyone else anyway." he laughed before he threw an arm around you and kissed you deeply.

[yesimwriting]

Normalcy

A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good

Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.

Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭

----

The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...

"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."

Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."

The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."

"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.

You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.

"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"

You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?

It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."

He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."

"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"

You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."

"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."

"Comforting."

He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."

"I lost my powers."

Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.

It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.

He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."

He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.

"Educated wish?"

His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."

Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"

In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.

"I never stabbed you."

His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."

He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."

"Well--"

He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."

"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"

There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."

You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."

You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.

"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."

Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."

You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.

You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.

You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.

The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.

Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.

He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.

You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.

"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.

Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.

You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."

He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"

Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."

Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"

"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"

He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."

You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.

You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."

His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.

"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."

After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.

You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.

"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."

Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."

You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."

He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.

You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.

You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."

He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."

An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.

"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."

There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."

You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.

[minus-plus-zer0]

He Hears You Talking About Him

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

Bakugou sat at his desk, his mood soured by the rain this morning. His classmates filed into the classroom early around him, but he paid them no mind. He rested his head on his hand, with his nose in his textbook.

But of course, his ears perked up when he heard your voice announcing your presence. You chatted animatedly with Ashido as you walked over to your desk, which happened to be right behind his. As you conversed with your friend, you passed by him and gave him a quick pat on the head, to which he briefly shared a tender glance with you.

But what he was even more interested in was what you were saying. Because he was starting to realize you were talking about him.

You set your backpack down at your desk. "And I gave him the nicest, sweetest, softest hugs! And he looked so pleased!"

"No way!" Ashido said, like the subject of their conversation wasn't within earshot. "Him? Pleased? Did you cast some sort of brainwashing spell on him?"

"No no no!" you whined. "I really mean it, he's the sweetest guy ever. He bought me flowers the other day because he knew I loved them. I've still got them in my dorm room next to my bed so I see them when I wake up every morning. And he looked so satisfied knowing I was taking good care of what he gave me. He's really not as bad as everyone says he is. He's kind, and loyal, and affectionate, and funny, and--"

"That better be me you're talking about," he said, without raising his head from his desk.

"Uh oh!" Ashido said, leaning on your desk. "Bakugou knows when he's being called out!"

"Shut. Up."

"Of course I'm talking about only you, Katsuki!" you said, poking him in the back with a pencil. "You are one of the best boyfriends I've ever had! Thank you so much for being so cute!"

Bakugou really tried to keep a sour expression fixed onto his face but it wasn't working. He wasn't really sure how to react, but he really enjoyed hearing everything you said. He honestly wasn't sure if he was bad boyfriend material or if his standards for himself were too high as you once suggested, but he always wanted to show you he loved you as much as you loved him and he needed you to know this regardless of how grouchy he seemed. Bakugou never wanted you to feel unloved just because he couldn't express himself properly. You, on the other hand, were much more open with your feelings. That was another thing he needed to surpass you on.

"Look! Look at your boyfriend!" Ashido lightly tugged on your arm. "You made him happy! I've never seen him that weird type of frustrated and happy!"

"Really?" You peered over at him, trying to see his face. "I hope you are happy, Katsuki!"

Bakugou felt terrible about not being able to respond to your affections in kind. He didn't like how you gave it away freely, yet nobody returned your affection at the same level.

Bakugou stood from his seat and then pulled you over by the arm.

"What are you--"

"Come here."

He kissed you for the first time in front of all your classmates. You had already both kissed in private, but his lips felt new and exciting when everybody watched. You could hear some gossiping in the far distance, but your mind tuned it out when his hands met your hair.

He let you go. He gazed upon you like you were the sweetest thing in his life.

"Dummy," he said. "Thank you."

He gave you a final kiss on the cheek and then returned to his seat, as if nothing had happened.

Ashido squealed and dragged you back over to her. "Oh my gosh! Why did he just kiss you? I've never seen him kiss anyone!"

"See?" you said. "What I'd tell you? He's very sweet! And he's my best friend! He also once told me I'm his first girlfriend and he's gonna treat me right. Isn't that so romantic?"

And so you and Ashido continued to jabber on about your boyfriend, who was still unfortunately within earshot. But Bakugou was determined to fully pay you back later for your sweetness, one way or another. He just needed to figure out how to outdo you once and for all.

Little did you know, you made his rainy day a whole lot better!

(Just needed to get some quick thoughts out of my head and onto a page for once)

[readychilledwine]

hii!! i’m in love w your writing!!❤️❤️❤️ can i please request one where it’s azriel x reader. Feyre sees azriel wearing a ring on his left finger and asks,

” i’ve seen you wear that ring forever azriel, what does it mean? ”

” it’s my wedding ring ”

and her jaw drops bc she didn’t know he even had a lover.

” who is she? do i know her? what is she like? ”

he smiles faintly and says

” her name is y/n, she’s my mate and wife and she isn’t a warrior like us, she works at a library downtown. you don’t know her, only rhys and cassian do. we have a house in the outskirts in velaris. she is very sweet and i love her more than anything, our daughter is- ”

” YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER ????? ”

he nods and tells them all about her, he asks if feyre wants to meet reader and their daughter and feyre smiles and nods. He asks reader in the mating bond if it’s okay to bring her, nyx, rhys and cassian to dinner. reader says yes and azriel tells feyre he’ll pick them all up tonight before leaving to help his wife prepare. Reader meets feyre and become friends instantly, nyx and their daughter become friends aswell.

” how did i not know this?? this makes so much sense now. How he never sleeps here and he’s gone for days sometimes but not on missions. ” feyre asks rhysand.

”don’t worry i didn’t know for a long time either, Az is a very private person, he is extremely protective of his family. i’m glad he told me at all. either way he’s still a mystery sometimes, i learn new things about him all the time and i’ve known him for over 500 years” rhys says and laughs knowing your perfect for his brother 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😭🥹😍

Haven

Warnings - none

A/n - I played with this for a while, rewrote it several times, and then made something that met in the middle of what came to mind, but still stuck with the request. Hopefully, you love it, dear 💜

Feyre had been in Velaris for 5 years. 5 long years and she had yet to figure out why Azriel kept a simple black band on his left ring finger at all times.

The two of them were on the couch, Rhys across from them, as they looked over maps of a few of the Illyrian Camps that had been recently renovated. The new cabins, mess halls, and dorms were a huge success, and figuring out the same layout for the remaining few was a huge topic of interest for the three smaller camps.

She glanced at the ring one more time before tapping it. Rhys and Azriel both looked at her, brows raised. "So, not magic," she muttered to herself. She tried spell cleaving it, "And not a ward or shield."

Azriel blinked at her, brows knit in silent question. Rhys had his hand over his mouth, hiding his amusement. Leave it to his wife to provide entertainment without knowing it was needed. "I-" she sighed. "You wear this ring all the time. I'm trying to figure out why."

Both of the males chuckled. "Probably the same reason you wear your wedding ring, Feyre Darling."

The High Lady made face, tapping the ring again. "Don't be ridiculous, Rhys. I would know if Azriel was married."

"Evidently not, my love."

Feyre and Azriel held eye contact, the male then going back to the maps. "Since I have extensive time in Steppes Peak, I think it would be easiest to move the mess hall here, at the base of the mountain, maintain the warroom in the carved out cave, and build better dorms here," he pointed to an empty part of the map.

Rhys nodded, drawing it out on the empty map he had. "I'm sure y/n will agree with whatever you say."

"Okay, stop." Feyre crossed her arms, pouting slightly at the two of them. "Azriel isn't married, and making up some name to make me feel stupid isn't kind."

Azriel sighed. He leaned back while dropping the scent ward he kept on himself at all times. He watched as her face fell. He knew his scent, chilled air and cedar, was the predominant one in the mateship, but now a soft floral scent, something like lavender and warm honey clung there softly.

"I've been married for longer than you have been alive, Fey." Azriel patted her hand. "I have a daughter older than you and another younger than Nyx."

He watched as her face fell, a small amount of hurt flashing across it. "Why didn't you tell me?" She paused, looking at the sleeping heir in his craddle. "We could be having play dates. I could have a friend who understands."

Guilt settled into his face as he pulled her into him. "I torture people for living, sweet sister. I execute people on your orders. I imprison people with a flick of your wrist." He tilted Feyre's head up. "Y/n has no combat training and refused to learn. She likes to sit at home writing poetry, baking, and cuddling our children. I do not bring her around or introduce them to anyone to keep them safe." His face held the ghost of a rare smile. "I think I've brought her to meet Rhys and Cassian once."

Rhys nodded. "I've met her once here and several times behind your back in town. Especially after my first niece was born."

Feyre kept her gaze on Nyx. "He could have a friend," her voice was distant.

Azriel stood, placing a kiss on her forehead as he did. "I'll be right back." Rhysand's smile grew wide. Folding the maps and putting them away. He moved to the liquor cabinet, bringing down one of his more expensive wines.

Azriel reappeared with you and both daughters in tow. Your oldest ran to Rhys, jumping on him and holding him tightly, her wings fluttering with joy as she did. "Hello, Amara," he nuzzled into her hair. "Missed you so much, baby girl. Cassian is on his way."

He walked with her in his arms to the table, setting the wine down and then carried her over to Feyre. "Would you like to meet your aunt?" She allowed Rhys to set her down and turned toward Feyre.

There was little question she was Azriel's. She was the beautiful artists dreamed of painting. Soft classic features framed with inky black hair that fell in gorgeous curls. "Feyre, this is our niece Amara. She's 56. She was my favorite suprise when I got home from the mountain."

She smiled shyly, keeping close to Rhysand. "Hi."

"Hi," Feyre didn't know what came over her, pulling the Illyrian female close to her and holding her. "I'm so excited to meet you."

Amara wrapped her arms around Feyre, returning the gesture. "Me too. Mom and I have been BEGGING dad for a while. But you know how the bats are."

The door slammed open, rushed loud footsteps and a panting filling the hall. "Where's my baby?!"

Amara pulled away from Feyre, smiling softly before moving away from all of them. She was rushed by Cassian, lifted up into his arms as he spun her.

Feyre looked to her side, noticing Azriel next to her, holding a swaddled bundle. "This is Iris. She's a month younger than Nyx." Azriel wouldn't look away from his daughter and her peaceful sleeping face. "I fear the day she loses her chipmunk cheeks."

Feyre looked around the room, trying to find the reason this was happening and felt her heart shift when she saw you, arm wrapped around Rhysand's bicep, looking at Nyx.

You were wingless, long dark hair braided back. Soft leggings and a sweater that was a few sizes too big covering your frame. Cassian had moved next to you, bumping you with his arm and smiling down at you. "He's so beautiful," your voice was a melody, a soft echo that brought calm to the room. "And so sweet. Look at those rosy cheeks."

Rhysand pulled you away, moving you back to Feyre. He handed you to Azriel, arms out expectedly. "Don't make me command it."

The shadowsinger placed his youngest in Rhysand's arms, hands shaking despite the trust between them, "Be careful with her. Please." Rhys nodded, moving over to Cassian. "Feyre, this is y/n, my wife and mat-"

Feyre didn't allow him to finish, hugging you instantly, tears lining her eyes as she did. "Please tell me we can be friends and cry about our babies together."

"I didn't realize that would even be a question. Of course we will be friends, and of course we will cry about all of the things. Our mates don't get it. Cassian, though, Cassian will join us."

The warlord stuck one finger in your direction. "Let me love them in peace, y/n."

You leaned into Feyre, "Has he cried while holding Nyx yet?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. Big illyrian baby."

"The worst, aren't they? Rhysand, did you want me to make dinner?"

The High lord looked at Azriel, a small look of guilt on his face, "Please."

You squeezed Feyre's arm, kissing Azriel as you moved towards the kitchen. "You know where to find me if she needs me." He nodded.

Azriel moved to Cassian, watching like a hawk as the general snuggled the small babe in his arms. Amara was sitting by Nyx a look of love and adoration on her face as she sighed.

"She's perfect for Azriel in every way," Rhys stroked Feyre's hand. "I was nervous at first too when he brought her home. I was even more nervous when his fears manifested in the form of being deeply private with her. But she is perfect for him."

Feyre nodded, watching as Azriel glared as Cassian due to the loud squeak his baby had just let out.

"His girls are beautiful." Rhys hummed in agreement. "Y/n is beautiful."

Feyre moved to Amara's side, sitting next to her and smiling as her niece started asking questions.

She didn't realize it until now, but this was the missing piece. The part of the puzzle that had sat empty despite every thing around it being done. You and your girls were that lost center.

Now she just had to convince Azriel to keep bringing you around.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

[emsartwork]

Hey yall im not dead!

COSMIX!!! I've officially redesigned all the transformations in the Winx Club TV series hell yeah

Lore and Design notes below

So Cosmix is a rather defunct transformation in the modern era. It used to be used heavily in the age of space exploration but since teleportation and hyper speed ships became common place, the Magix dimension prefers to use those. Essentially, in order to set up a teleportation center, the caster/s need to have been to both the origin point and the target point. Witches and Mages were the primary people responsible for setting up the teleportation system, but in order to achieve the spells requirements, they would require help from a Cosmix fairy. The primary function of Cosmix is the ability to fly through space with out detrimental effects. Cosmix fairies can take 1, maybe 2, people with them while they fly in a shooting star esc trail function. Cosmix is not great for fighting unless the foe is darkness/light based. Defense is strong against cold, pressure, and friction, but not most other kinds of damage.

Cosmix is also theorized to be the Magix Dimension's version of the elementix. So like Sirenix is the transformation that grants access to the Infinite ocean, Cosmix is the one that would grant access to the Magix Dimension if fairies were in the other realms. Because humans already belong to the Magix Dimension, and the transformation isn't required to earn Nymphix, it isn't considered a true Elementix. Some fairies (mostly Solarians) do experience biological changes when using the transformation, seen here in Stella, but it's not super common. The hair takes on the magic color and drifts into nebulous star dust and galaxy clusters. Solarians are located closest to Lumenia, a tightly clustered star formation, and frequent attract Lumens due to Solaria's binary star system. They have formed fast friendships with the Lumens and many Solarians carry a Lumen's Blessing (it's similar to the elemental companions' bonds in the elementix) in their bloodline which contributes to the biological changes when using Cosmix.

I'm still hammering out how seaosn 8 works plot wise but I'll add it to my show changes masterlist eventually.

Design! The initial concept was "man i wanna draw some chunky ass boots" and i kinda ran with the cyber punk look from there. I was also adamant that Cosmix is a pants transformation, both out of practicality and spite because they made everyone so hyper feminine in season 8. I referenced the actual cosmix designs and their "space travel" oufits for the general shapes for these, but obviously there aren't a ton of similarities since I went in such a different direction haha. Also my first time drawing Aisha with twists! I almost gave her a fro cus it would mimic an astronaut's helmet (and lowkey a nod to Garnet from steven universe) but i like how the twists came out haha

Cosmix includes! Hair up and out of the way, a mesh base layer with light veins and stars, a body suit or shorts and top, a padded armor torso piece with some tubing ports, so many buckles and straps, a clear plastic portion(usually part of the torso peice, sleeves, or around the waist/hips), wrist/arm guards, and chunky chunky boots. The wings are also larger than most transformations (rivaling Butterflix/Faunix) and trail more of the fairy's magic color than usual. Simple geometric designs are standard.

[jolalibrary]

spell out miss you against my skin

frankie morales x f!reader

gif credit to @perotovar - thank you bby 🩷

summary: frankie is back now, and he wants to make you feel good.

wordcount: 1.1k warnings: 18+ smut. oral (receiving) <- lots, because he has a good mouth and a need to please and i was horny. frankie also has a lot of inches. we established in this, but how so? you'll have to see muhahahah.

Six months he'd been gone.

Six months of phone calls, webcam dates, and longing, and now he was finally on his way back to you. To his home. Your home. The one you both chose, the one he's been away from for so long. Sleeping in a bed different from the one you bought together, brushing his teeth in a bathroom he hadn't retiled, using towels he hadn't chosen.

It had been important, you knew that. When the work offer came, those brown eyes looked at you, held your hand, cupped your cheek: Say the word, querida, and I won't take it.

You hadn't said the word, both for the opportunity he'd been given and because of the new kitchen he promised you.

None of it mattered now. Not when you'd felt his hands slide across your thighs, parting your knees.

When you'd seen his eyes turn glassy, blown with lust, swallowed by it as he licked his lips at the sight of the evidence of how much you'd missed him.

He'd dug his fingers into your calves, flattened his mouth to the inside of your left knee, whispered again how much he'd missed you. Pressed it to your skin, traced it up your inner thighs, wiry beard scratched it against softness before he whispered it again. And again, and again—

You almost whined when he placed a kiss at the top of your thigh, breath blown out across your slick core. Brief memories of the night before came to you. How you'd teased; how you'd intentionally stripped for the call, taunting knowing he wanted to wait, and not have you talk him through it one final time. I've only had my fingers, Frankie. You'll have to take your time. His groan had made your hips buck just at the thought of it. That and the deep gravel of his voice through the speaker, I’ll get you ready for me, querida.

And you'd believed him. Now you were seeing the proof of it.

Your toes curling, digging into your mattress as he taps your ankles to remain flat on the bed. There’s sweat sticking to the back of your thighs, knees, shoulder blades—skin clinging to the bedsheets as his lips remain latched to your clit, with three of his fingers working themselves inside of you.

You know you’re going to come again. Make another mess. Just like he wants—

Come in my mouth, hermosa. Wanna taste you. 'missed you, querida.

Slick and spit making a mess of the sheets, your chest heaving, panting, and you're aware of how you're dripping, gushing for him. Conscious, in some ways, of the sounds you're making, the vulgar and sinful ones your body is producing. And it turns you on more.

An old version of yourself would have been ashamed.

But not this version. The one loved, doted and admired by him; the one who has never felt more attractive than you do right now. Just from the way he groans, the way he moans right into your pussy, his hips grinding against the pillow on the end of the bed.

The sight makes you light-headed. That and the eager way he laps up everything you're giving him. The obscene sounds blend with your moan as his fingers curl inside of you, making you clench, grind against him.

You feel nothing but bliss.

Back arching, pussy grinding against his touch, his tongue, his entire face as your fingers grasp at his curls, soaked in sweat from determination, perseverance and effort.

—just wanna make you feel good, querida—

Mouth hanging open, you find no sound escapes. Lost, never wanting to be found as his tongue flicks and then flattens, as it presses harder against your swollen nerves and makes you buck your hips.

Almost ready to find your body burning in that electric way he somehow always makes you feel. Over the phone, miles away and now, here, at his mercy, tongue laving and swirling. Moaning and hissing—

Then he sucks and your entire body tenses.

You can hear him, distant, like you've been plunged underwater—

That’s it, squeeze my fingers, querida.

He croons it into your pussy. Likely smirking, beard and lips stained with your arousal and desperation.

You don't care. Not as you fall apart. As pleasure floods through you all over again and another moan-cry-whine hybrid of his name rips from your throat as you gush. Your body twitches, tenses, thighs fucking shaking before you admit defeat and collapse back to the bed as he soothes.

As his face eases from between your clenched thighs and stares up at you like you're a goddess, when it's him you suspect is a god.

You're only able to blink the spots from your eyes when his mouth meets yours. Your body more liquid than solid; lips barely reciprocating his movements, when he asks you:

Can I fuck you? Can I make you feel good?

You want to argue that it’s all he has been doing. Your body wrecked, thoroughly worshipped from it.

But you nod. Biting his lower lip as he chuckles, watching as he leans back on his knees, hand wrapping around his hard cock.

"You're gorgeous, Frankie."

He snorts, chin lifting, eyes closing as he strokes himself. Your gaze drops to his hand, catching sight of the metal band on his left hand that glides up and down his cock. His tip leaks as your eyes take in each impressive inch that makes up your husband as you lick your lips.

As you part your legs a little further for him.

As you run your fingers over your breasts, pushing them together, making him moan before he slides a hand over your thigh to get you to stop.

"Gonna fuck me?"

Nodding, "Gonna fuck you, querida. That what you want?"

Yes. Yes. And yes, and yes you cry as he lines himself at your slit. As he teases the tip from hole to clit.

"Need you, esposo."

His groan reverbs around the room. "Yeah?"

Nodding, you bite down on your lip, raising your hands above your head, crossing them at the wrist. Just for him. All for him. "Ruin me, esposo."

Frankie groans, deep in the back of his throat, before he slides each inch in one deep thrust, mouth latching to yours as he swallows the moan you both emit in unison.

dedicated to @thetriumphantpanda who never minds when I message her and go “wanna hear my brain rot”

those who expressed interest: @thesluttylittleknee @wordywarriorwrites @luxurychristmaspudding @hellfire-state-of-mind

@gingerspjce @socklessria @eh-nothanks @naranjoenflor @sheepdogchick3

@fictional-men-have-my-heart @theshipissinking8