#even not mutated they run hot and cold and I LOVE THAT

[inkspottie]

the boiled one (hum!fishbug outfit swap)

but seriously get that man to the nearest freezer to cool off because he is cooked in more ways than one

This man is sweltering! Help him!

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I hope your day has been as lovely as you are—which is to say, the loveliest! Could you please write a drabble with tasm!Peter and a reader who is generally not shy but flusters easily when Peter is affectionate and soft? The curse of not being used to it! No worries if not! 💞

Hope your day was as lovely as you are, sweetheart--which is to say, even lovelier <33

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 412 words

“Baby,” Peter laughs, “I know how to dress for the cold.” 

“Right, but this isn’t the subway.” You’re wrapping a scarf around his neck, mouth pulled into a frown. “It’s a long walk to your work, and it’s freezing out. They say it could even snow tonight. This early in the year! Isn’t that crazy?” 

“You’re crazy,” he says warmly. “And cute.” Your eyes dip from his face, lips pressing together to keep a smile at bay. Peter watches it happen amusedly. “If I’m late because you’re putting a dozen layers on me, I’ll just have to web to work.” 

You snap out of your bashfulness. “Peter, that’s even worse. That suit is like wearing nothing!” 

“That’s my point, sweetheart.” Peter takes your face in his hands to press a kiss to your lips, stopping you from reaching for a pair of gloves. You’re outfitted in a coat, scarf, and a hat, appropriate garb for what really is a frigid day. But no matter how many times Peter has told you he runs hot because of his mutation, he doesn’t think you really believe him. 

“I’m gonna go,” he says, “but I’ll come by your work during lunch so you can see none of my fingers have frozen off. I’ll bring you a hot chocolate, okay?” 

You wet your lips, expression softened by the kiss. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And what if I want to?” He lets his voice drop into a lower register, syrupy sweet. Kisses you again between your brows. “Maybe I wanna thank you for taking such good care of me, did you think of that?” 

He can practically feel the warmth emanating from your skin now. Your face pinches as if in agony. “Stop,” you chide him, but there’s little bite when you can hardly speak above a murmur. “You’re doing this to me on purpose.” 

Peter smiles. “What is it that I’m doing to you, pretty girl?” 

“Peter.” 

“Now I bet you want me gone, huh?” 

He thinks you’re trying to glare at him, but you’re too shy at the moment to pull it off. “Just stay warm.”

“You too.” Peter pulls your hat down over your ears, dropping a kiss on your nose. It’s burning hot under his lips. He suppresses a laugh. 

“You’re so mean.” 

“One of us has to be; you’re too sweet.” He does laugh when you cover your face with your hands, stealing out the door. “See you at lunch!”

[splatashahowlett]

do you think you could do Logan taking care of you while your sick ??

love fever

logan howlett x reader

the leather of the couch was sticking to your skin. you could feel droplets of sweat rolling down your forehead. your body felt numb, and your headache was agonizing.

you hated being hot; you hated being sick.

you had fallen asleep on the couch, in one of the school's living room. you were watching a movie with rogue, and before you knew it you had slipped into morpheus' arms. when you had woken up, the lights were out. everything was dark and silent. it didn't freak you out but it would solicit a strange feeling of sadness and loneliness. you had figured rogue had gone to bed just like everyone else.

you found yourself all alone, hair in a mess, mouth dry, eyes puffy and sick.

the only thing that could be heard was the ticking of the clock, way louder than necessary or the occasional light footsteps upstairs coming from tormented students.

it was so peaceful you almost were afraid of making a noise, not daring to disrupt the singular and placid atmosphere around you.

you were looking around, when you noticed a room ligthing up on the other side of the hallway. someone was in the kitchen. you didn't want anybody to see you like this so you gathered the energy you had left to get up and join your room. but before you could do so, the person left the kitchen. you felt a strong sense of relief when you realized it was logan. he probably was one of the few person you were completly comfortable around, he had seen you in your worst days: a little cold wouldn't scare him away.

logan and you had known each other for forever. you were both running away from people who wanted to take advantage of your mutation. you met in a bar, in the middle of the night and got along beautifully. you hit the road together and never left each other's side from this moment. you had both joined the X-Men and the idea of doing it with your bestfriend was comforting for you two.

"i was looking for you" logan said, worried.

"I'm here" you answered, still swimming in an hypnagogic state. logan smiled and leaned against the back of the couch, inclined over your frame. he looked at you for a while. it wasn't awkward, nothing could be with him but you were still confused.

"why aren't you in bed?" he asked.

"uhm, I fell asleep" you replied, knowing how silly that sounded. logan laughed softly at your angelic face. "I think I'm sick" you added. logan furrowed his brows and put a hand on your forehead, checking your temperature. he walked away immediatly, mumbling something about your head being hot.

when he came back, he had a glass in his left hand, a wet rug in his right one.

"drink that" he ordered.

you grabbed the glass and looked at it hesitantly, you looked up at logan.

"painkiller" he simply said. you drank it. god only knows how much you needed it.

you were expecting him to hand you over the rug but instead, he sat next to you and started wiping your sweaty forehead. the gesture made your smile, it was rare seeing logan so caring and you doubted he would have done the same thing if there was people around. you knew you could count on him to take care of you but behind closed doors. when you adressed the matter once, he admitted he was scared of people hurting you to get to him. it wouldn't be the first time. so he would show affection in different way; getting you something to eat when you've been working all afternoon in the lab, smilling at your jokes even when they aren't funny, turning off the light in your room when you've fallen asleep after a long day (still completly dressed).

you never doubted of the affection logan had for you, he just didn't have the same way of expressing it as everyone.

"what are you thinking about?" he whispered.

"I'm really lucky to have a friend like you"

he smiled.

"so am I" he took your hand in his, raised it to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the back of it.

you rolled your eyes at his action and you both laughed loudly. you immediatly stopped when you where reminded of the children sleeping and put your hand on logan's mouth instinctively. you both froze, realizing your mistake and hoping you didn't wake anyone up. you took your hand off his face and laughed as silently as possible together.

"you should go to sleep" he whispered. you nodded, knowing it was the right thing to do. but you didn't really want to go to bed. you loved the quiet moments you spent with logan. those moments where neither of you would say a thing but simply enjoy each other's company.

you were both waiting for the other to stand and go to sleep; but neither of you was ready to say goodnight.

you coughed vociferously, which caused your headache to get worse. you rubbed your hand against your forehead and closed your eyes, maybe you should just sleep on the couch?

before you could take a decision, logan's arms went under your legs and behind your back. he lifted you against his chest.

"let's get you to bed" he explained. you leaned against him and sighed loudly. your eyes were closing on their own. you were fighting not to fall asleep but your efforts weren't enough.

when you woke up the next day, your eyes went wide when you looked at the time.

one pm?!

you jumped from your bed, mortified at how late you were but immediatly sat on the floor after almost fainting.

you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening.

"are you okay?" logan hurried in the room and joined you on the floor. his hand went to your head, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

you clearly weren't doing good, you were frowning, your eyes were closed and you were breathing heavily.

"I'm late, I have to go" you complained

"I warned everybody that you were sick and wouldn't be available today" he reassured. you smiled softly, as a way of thanking him.

logan helped you get up and tucked you in bed. he left your side to grab the plate he had come in with.

"here. eat something"

you grabbed the plate from his hand.

"can you stay?" you pleaded.

"I wasn't planning on leaving babygirl" he said softly.

"thank you"

logan leaned over and kissed your forehead.

"don't. I'm sick" you said

"we've known each other for decades and you still forget I can't get sick?" he laughed. you smiled, laughing at how stupid you were.

logan ended up staying the whole afternoon, he had cancelled his classes to stay with you. he made sure you had everything you needed; food, water, medicines, attention, love.

your heart was full of love. you adored logan. he was the person you trusted the most on earth and you were more then grateful to have him in your life.

the sun set and logan wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. he ended up falling alseep before you, his head on your lap, your fingers massaging his head. you could hear him grunt and sigh at the sensation and you smiled each time, amused at his cat-like behavior.

"you're my person" was the last thing you whispered in the dark of your room before falling asleep.

[staarboyyy]

Paid in kind

cooper howard [ the ghoul ] x bounty!reader | no pronouns

explicit - minors dni

tags / warnings ; gunplay, breathplay, bondage, spitplay, hairpulling, oral [ m receiving ], throatfucking, wallfucking, creampie, accidental yearning, prolonged eye contact is sexy, switch!cooper is underrated, mentions of past sexual experiences, nondescript reader genitals, rad x as ghoul birth control

summary ; you've been running for weeks, but there's nowhere he won't find you.

word count ; 5.2k

a / n; inspired by the wonderful @ghoulsbounty and @ghoulbrain ! both are such lovely writers, i couldn't help but jump on this old man's bones !! (also as a texan i just had to put a fic out there using my southernisms)

The sun was achingly bright - That was the first thing you recalled. It beat down against the tattered and worn material of what you could manage for clothes, your eyes squinting as they couldn't resist to meet the sky. Everlasting, going as far as you could see - It brought strange comfort to have this one constant in this place, while also being a nice change from the large warehouse you took shelter in. Your feet moved slowly, the gravel against the soles of your shoes shifting with each step, eyes still pinned on the infinite blue stretching above your head forever. Instinctively, you knew being distracted, and taking time to enjoy the small things in this broken world, would be far less than short-lived. Though, taking in slow breaths of the thick air, clogged with the stench of the dirt below your feet and a dry breeze that stung your eyes; So much so, that you hardly noticed the hulking mutated mass moving towards you. It took in ragged breaths, crouched forward, wet tendrils obscuring its surging bloodshot eyes and split-cheeked jaw, messily hanging off the hinges. This action exposed rows of teeth, tattered and yellowed over the years roaming this land - As you whipped your head around, your hand moved with a practiced poise, already hovering over your weapon, itching with the need to draw against this thing that amassed itself towards you. An ear-shattering crack reverberated through the air before you could even finish bearing your teeth, white-knuckling your weapon. The blast was nasty, crushing through the reptile's large skull with an obscene squelch before falling forward to the hot ground with a thud. It lay in the seeping mess of what must be its blood, a dark pungent green, reeking of hot rubber - It stung your nose with a sharp sour tang, churning your stomach as you threw your hand over your mouth, staggering backward from both the sudden onslaught on your senses and the sudden shot tearing through the air.

"Well, well."

Your blood ran cold as the familiar gruff voice came a few yards past the bleeding mess in front of you, your eyes shuddering over the scene to meet the speaker with a widening gaze. He came from around the corner of the warehouse, that man - The one that insisted on shadowing your every move, no matter how far you ran. The soft breeze of the blazing day swept the tattered edges of his long coat, soft jingles following him as he took a few slow steps forward. He had lowered the gun level your face, gloved hands steady on the weapon as his eyes found yours. They were alive - Coherent, a sharp contrast to the little visible skin he showed, stretching scars bound over his cheeks and neck arching down and distorting the grassy texture of his tanned skin. Slowly, his thumb rose, letting it rest on the gun's hammer with a punctuating step.

"Looks like someone's not payin' attention."

You had been on the run for hours, and yet he cocked his head off to the side as his gaze raked over your hardening expression; It was all for nothing, the ghoul hardly affected by the travel you were desperate to turn into escape. Escape from the world that still tangled itself around your neck, pulling you across this wasteland with little, if any direction. Your heart slammed against your ribs, taking in a tentative breath of the nauseating air, keeping your eyes as far from the gurgling body of the reptile. You were hot, hungry, and most of all, exhausted of running. Maybe he knew that - Maybe that's why he chased you, knowing that one day, you would finally give up. The clicking of the hammer being drawn back pulled you from your thoughts, eyes moving to meet the barrel, then scrape back up to him.

"Why don't you just kill me?" It hurt to talk, your throat cut up and raw from breathing the thick radiated air - Still you couldn't shake the question as it pressed past your chapped lips, keeping your eyes pinned on the barrel. It was challenging, how you spoke to the shell of the man. Your eyebrows drew together, focusing past the smoking barrel of his shotgun with an insistent expression. At this, his eyebrow muscles shifted with a slightly suprised chuff.

"So you do speak." The Ghoul. You heard stories, making your way across the wasteland with little you could to make do, falling into bounty work, and getting caught up with bad people - The wrong people. The ones that talked about digging him up, that he would be able to take out the one target that seemingly ruled the wasteland. The Ghoul's voice scraped across the air, the breeze carrying the rough twang in his voice, the jingle of his spurs as he shifted his weight. You didn't care for the stories of your peers; And my, there were stories. Cooper Howard, movie star, face pasted across battered billboards. You also didn't care for the night three men you worked beside insisted on digging him up - But when you saw your face smeared across the radiated land, posters crumbled and pinned messily to boards and the inside of almost every building; You knew he was looking for you.

"I don't know what you want from me," You said in a rasp, unable to dwell on the near teasing tone in his rugged voice, not in this sweltering heat, not with the stifling smell of the creature between you and The Ghoul - The thing, the shell of a man, Cooper Howard; Or at least what was left of him.

"Well - Looks to me, I just saved your life," He mused, clearing the raggedness in his throat as his eyes lowered to your hand. How it twitched over your weapon, tattered gloves hiding bruises and scars. Cooper pushed his tongue to his cheek, head falling slightly to one side as he eyed your trigger-happy fingers strum at your holster teasingly; His mind pulsed with flashing images, the forking of how this awaited meeting would actually pan out. His tongue slid over the grit of his teeth with a slow hissed breath.

"Now, you plan on usin' that thing?"

A beat met you, breath hitching for a moment as he flicked his speculative gaze to return to yours - And just as you caught each other's eyes, your hand moved. Your fingers wrapped over the mangled handle of your pistol, fabric tied over the base for some steadying on your trembling hands; And as soon as you drew, the bullet fired, keeping his eyes on yours as you squeezed the trigger tight. The sound rocketed through the dusty air, his left shoulder falling backward with an unnatural shift, letting his weight fall off to the side as he grunted softly. His gloved hand reached his shoulder, rubbing at the hole now torn through his jacket, hissing through his teeth. You tried to move quickly, the exhaustion cementing you to the hot dirt of the wasteland as your boot heels scraped against the rubble, pushing yourself away from the other. However, it didn't matter now, not as his hand moved from his crooked shoulder to the coiled thick rope slung around his thick belt, wasting no time seeing your sudden urgency to escape.

"Not lettin' you get away again sugar." You nearly made it to your feet as you heard the chilling metal clinks of his spurs, panting as the sun that boiled overhead went dark; Cooper stood above you with a scowl, grasping the lasso now looped around his hands, clutching at the fraying rope with the assured intent to use it. "Now, you best put that toy of yours away. I need you alive." The sharp pull of the lasso whipped through the space between you, taking hold of your throat with a sudden drawn pressure of your quickly swallowing breath. Your hands rose, letting the pistol fall from your grasp as you white-knuckled the rope, now being pulled by it to your feet. Cooper sucked his teeth, tightening the knot with a gruff exhale as your cheeks flushed, blood rushing in your ears in crashing waves. It wasn't choking you per se - Though the pressure spun your head, staggering as he yanked you forward, invasive eyes now inspecting both your growing frantics and the expertly tied knot.

"From how I'm seein' it - I deserve a little kindness for not lettin' that thing tear you apart," You still managed to scoff, even as the rough frayed rope pressed tighter, threatening to take your breath completely.

"Just trading one monster for another," You spoke in a strained voice, eyebrows twitching together as you still tugged at the rope constricting your air, temples pulsing with hot sparks of pain. His lip twitched, eyes darkening and forcing the knot to slide tighter against your throat for just a moment. You choked, breath pulled entirely from your lungs before suddenly falling against the dirt to your knees, ragged coughs pushing between your lips, drinking down gasps of air with a gluttonous groan. Upon opening your eyes, you could make out his boots, and the sound of his soft snickering - He was entertained by it, the way you so quickly fell from challenging him to kneeling, saliva spilling from your lips onto your chin as you coughed on the radiated air, finally able to tear the constricting rope away from your bruised neck. Cooper let it go on, head tilting off to the side with a smug expression before one of his hands met the top of your head. The leather creaked as his fingers spread and tangled themselves in your hair, gripping the locks and yanking back, you had no choice but to rest your watering eyes on his, trying to control your desperate need for clean oxygen.

"You know how many people want'ya dead?" He looked down at you with a blank expression, his jaw shifting slightly as he kept a firm hold on your hair. "Now, I could sure as hell use the caps," Cooper went on, the muscles of his brow shifting as he sucked his teeth. Your mind raced with the many posters you remember seeing, pasted in nearly every store window in Filly - You didn't know the price they set for you, you just knew it was enough to keep your head low and stay far away from any wastelander that seemed a bit too keen on helping you.

"But, I could also see about being paid in kind."

The hot smell of aged leather clogged the wash of dusty oxygen you gasped down in shuddered breaths. He gripped your chin with his free hand, thumbing the pooling saliva glossing over your bottom lip. He looked perversely deep in thought, eyeing the glassy strings as he drew his thumb back, lips parting slightly with a dry chuckle.

"Well ain't you a sight." Cooper sighed the words in a lower tone, as if speaking to only himself. You bared your teeth, jerking your head off to the side with a grunt, the hot sting of his iron grip on your hair causing you to hiss. "Ah, ah. You cut that shit right now," Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders, glaring towards him with a determined expression.

"You've been tailing me for weeks, you know I don't have anything you want." You spoke through grit teeth, making an attempt to reason your way from his grip on your hair, at least long enough to get a better shot on him.

"We both know that ain't true." Silence befell your snarled lips, eyes twitching over changing his expression - It was somber. As close as his mangled face could manage, muscles clenching in his jaw as his eyes sought something distant and familiar. He looked as if he was trying to remember a dream, eyes searching for that connection. How long has it been since he touched another with no violent motive to do so, you wondered. Your eyes softened, a sigh making its way past your cracked lips. Cooper would never admit just how human you were, that familiarity of how your breathing wavered haunting him. The man would not admit many things, that this motive for caps had fallen away weeks ago, that he pictured what this meeting would look like for hours on end; Would you be terrified, fight back as any normal wastelander would? Would you wriggle free of his desperation for a broken connection, even if rooted in malice? Questions like this kept him from approaching you on those nights.

The nights he watched you from afar, making a fire for yourself as you glanced over your shoulder every moment you could, cooking the little amounts of meat you managed to harvest while on the run. He considered interrupting it all, a quiet shot through the night you wouldn't see coming, even going as far as to click back the barrel with an uncharacteristically shaking hand. Though he never did. Even as you slept, and as he held his gun with a ferocious intent to use it, he never even made himself known.

"I saw you." Cooper's grasp on your hair reflected those many nights, fingers twitching, his senses toying with the idea of allowing you to go on or stopping this entire conversation entirely. "I saw you so many times and just waited for the moment you would fucking do it. And you didn't. So please, just be a human for a second and," The man growled, throat rumbling with a charred snarl as he shoved you backward onto the dirt, releasing your hair and wiping the remaining saliva on his glove over his duster. You caught yourself with a grunt - What would it take then? The heel of your palms scrapped into the hot gravel, as you refused to back down. You deserved answers. "And tell me what you want!"

You shouted the last words - If he killed you, so be it. It would just proved to you how much he's lost of himself, the stories, the fuzzy black and white movies you'd heard endlessly about; That you were right the entire time, there was no legendary Ghoul, just a man in pieces reformed by the wasteland. He grimaced at your voice pitching up, hand hovering his holstered gun with an instinctive need to defend himself before glaring down at you.

"Don't look at me like that." He muttered as he watched you push yourself from the ground, grimacing at the throb in your wrists as you knelt with squared shoulders before him. Your lips shaped the words, throat vibrating with the hum of your voice, though they never came to be; What could you say? He wouldn't answer you, and looked at you with pain in his eyes - Your eyebrows twitched, pursing your lips to pacify the pressing questions that threatened to spill. With a slow movement, you lifted your hand, perching your fingers against the worn fabric and leather of his thick belt.

"How do you want me to look at you?" You asked, the question desperate, seeking any answers he would give you. His gaze darkened, head tilting forward to carefully watch your hand, the shadow of his hat cast over his face. A part of you knew he wouldn't answer. Maybe part of you didn't want him to, even as your other hand lifted to slide the coarse leather tail of his belt through the metal buckle, trying your hardest to ignore the holster just off to the left of his hip. As you drew it away, your eyes snuck a glance upwards to meet his eyes. It sent chills through your veins, the focus on his expression a twisted part monster and so painfully human, his brown eyes unable to settle on just one part of you. He hadn't been touched by someone like this in years - Far longer than he could ever explain, let alone remember. His heart stuttered in his chest, lips twitching as a shuddered breath escaped him.

"Like that," Cooper whispered. His voice - Alluring, a deep purr pillowed with a desire. The voice was nearly foreign, the canvas of the wasteland falling away just for a moment; He let himself fall back in time, eyes softening as the familiar pull of his pulse rushed through his veins, the gloved hand that shielded his holster falling away. The warm leather of his glove met your hand, guiding you to him even as his eyes refused to keep your gaze for too long. His grasp on you was soft, his breathing wavering as your palm met the base of his cock, the friction even through his pants eliciting a soft grunt.

Cooper Howard was never a man to beg, even before the wasteland. Though, as he tipped his head back slightly, the word shaped his lips, swallowing back the urge with a clenched jaw. Now was not the time to let his guard down - But your hands were just so goddamn warm. Moving on their own now, your fingers dancing with the rusted zipper and loose button, he pressed his tongue to his cheek, unable to shake the urge. He released your hand and with an animalistically watchful eye, spoke.

"Please." The desperate tone of his growl was not one of demand - It was the need to be touched without scorching ropes, without venomous words, to be human again, even if for just a moment. There it was, you thought. The man in the movies, you could see it in his pleading eyes, in the way his fingers now laced themselves with tremors. He knew better than to be distracted in the heat of the chase, yet in that silent moment, he was helpless. As your touch lingered on the zipper of his pants, a barely audible groan escaped his lips. The coy tug at his clothing was met with barely resisted impatience, his jaw clenching and eyes darting around, warily assessing the safety of your surroundings. With a final click, the last barrier between you and Cooper's now sparking need was removed, freeing him from this teasing torment of anticipation. His cock resembled the rest of his visible skin, scars arching down the stiff base, veins tracing the underside of his shaft, and aching tip beading with arousal; You had your fair share of dalliances across the wasteland, and so had he - Though not like this, your eyes widening slightly as you took in the size of him, how his eyes watched your every reaction. As your hand wrapped around the man's throbbing cock, rugged and needy, hot and pulsating, his breath hitched.

In that moment, you were as much a captor as he was the hunter. The Ghoul's muscles tensed, beads of sweat dewed against his temples; He bit his tongue, silencing the breathy gasps pushed from his lips. Each stroke of your hand along his shaft sent a shockwave of pleasure and agonizing need crashing through him, his lungs straining for breaths that seemed to evade him.

"Shit," Cooper seethed the word through grit teeth, escaping your locked gaze with half-lidded eyes. His cock responded to each one of your movements, his hips stuttering forward in an unpracticed motion as he ached for more. Your thumb breezed over the scabrous tip, gathering the beading arousal now sliding down his shaft with a shudder.

"Like this?" Your lips ghosted over the tip of his twitching cock, eyes heavy as they sought perilously to meet his, letting the hot weight of him press against the soft of your cheek. Hesitantly, his brown eyes found yours, flickering over the wasteland behind you and your tattered clothes, how they shaped the silhouette of your body. His were parted, taking in unsteady breaths with tense shoulders, anticipating your every motion. His eyes were inexplicably human; Perhaps, you thought, for just a moment you could fall into the very same fantasy that he did. That connection, that heat - You craved it just as much as he did. As your tongue pushed from between your lips, you could hear the pleased groan fall from his chest, shoulders rolling back as he yearned for the pleasure you held just over his head.

"Just like that." Cooper gave a slight dip of his chin, shadowing his eyes with the brim of his hat. You hummed at his confirmation, your tongue pressing to the underside of his throbbing cock, generous with your saliva as you slid your mouth to wrap over him entirely. He hissed a chain of curses under his breath, now refusing to move his gaze from yours as his hips eased forward. He wanted more, greedy upon getting the first taste of something so painfully familiar, that heat he craved, the slick warmth of your lips making their way lower around him. Your tongue worked in slow waves, drinking down the salt of his sweat and the sounds you pried from him with every deliberate movement of your head. The texture of his cock rolled over your tongue, the tip now prodding at the soft of your throat, your lips tightening to accommodate the size of him; At this, his hips jutted forward, eyes tightening closed for a brief moment, eyebrow muscles drawing together in a pained expression of impetuous pleasure. He pushed himself deeper, hips now rolling forward in a rhythm he craved, his fingertips tingling as your teeth grazed against the sensitive scarred skin of his cock. "Fuck baby, that's it," Cooper took a heady breath, lifting a hand to his lips and bearing his teeth with a hiss. He took hold of the tip of his glove, swiftly biting down and pulling the thick leather away from his large hand. Warm bare fingers, met your hair, tangling through it with a purr strung tight in the mans chest. You were so soft, hot to the touch, searing his dulled senses with an electric singe he swore he forgot long ago. Glassy saliva slid over your chin, spreading messily over your lips as you took him as far as your throat would allow, the size of him taking your breath. " Christ - Takin' a ghoul's cock down your throat like that," He followed his obscene growl with a shallow thrust, threatening to surpass the limits of your pillowy mouth and throat as he watched you silently struggle for air. He held himself deep inside, each twitch and spasm of your throat working breathy gasps and trembling groans from his shivering body. After a smug moment, he pulled your head away from his length, the sting of your scalp hitching your messy breathing, instinctively moving to wipe the back of your hand against your soaked lips.

Cooper caught your wrist with his still gloved as it rose, swallowing down the biting urge to continue his ravaging of your throat. Sweat traced his jagged features, the shadow of his hat shifting with the glinting sun overhead, his panting causing his broad shoulders to rise and fall. He found himself searching for the words, on the tip of his tongue he could swear it - How long had it been, since he's been run this desperate for someone? His cock tensing and twitching at the simple idea of someone bent over for him? He tugged you to your feet with a chuffed exhale, keeping a firm hold on your wrist to keep your gaze on his. He wouldn't let you go, not now, not as the hunger flamed in his veins, not as he pressed your stomach against the warehouse you once took shelter in. The man pried off his other glove, tossing it to the dirt below your feet. He wanted to feel you.

"Is this what you wanted?" You breathed raggedly, a chuff of an almost smug exhale ghosting past your lips as you rested your cheek against the rusted steel of the warehouse. His hands were invasive, hungry as the rough skin grabbed hold of your waistband, calluses and scars rubbing over your skin as he yanked your pants to your ankles. A glaze of sweat lit your body aflame, his rough palms groping your ass with a shameless groan. "Is this what you pictured those nights you watched me?"

Your words tugged a deep moan from his throat, his bare fingers making their way to your lips; He gathered the left over saliva from your chin, yet your tongue extended to wrap over his middle finger, coaxing him into your mouth with a tantalizing arch of your back. His cock was heavy against your ass, pulsating with a fierce need for release, fingers lathering over your tongue.

"You got a mouth on you, huh?" Cooper leaned down, his length glazed with your saliva sliding over you - He purred in your ear, the throaty bass of his voice stippleing goosebumps over the nape of your neck. He drew his soaked fingers from between your lips, moving to slide them messily against your hole. Your breathing hitched, thighs parting instinctually as his fingers prodded teasingly at your entrance.

Cooper thought of those nights briefly, gloved hand wrapped at the base of his cock as he watched you from afar, teeth crushing into his tongue to silence himself. Cumming to the sound of your voice, the images of you pulsating in his mind wading into his mind, positioned just like this. He chuckled darkly, the tip of his cock throbbing against your soaked entrance. "Arch that back baby - There you go, that's it," He spoke against the shell of your ear, the rough palm of his hand planted at the small of your back, pressing down gently to arch you to his satisfaction.

You don't remember saying his name, though you distinctly recalled the scrawled cursive of navy blue and yellow all over billboards and television screens; There was nowhere he wouldn't follow, there was no way to forget the taste of his name falling over your tongue as he pulled you tight against him, pushing inside you with little hesitation. You could feel him still for a moment, heart staggering in his chest as you cried out. You cried out for him.

"Cooper!"

The man snarled, the palm on your back clutching at your clothes as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of you. The moment your hips met his, he pulled away, then back again. He filled you ruthelessly, pulling your weight against his own just to draw back and fill you again; He clawed at your hips, your lower back, grabbing any of you he possibly could to be sure he'd keep you there. Your head swam with electricity, the slight burn of being stretched so suddenly easing into a head spinning heat, bundling itself tight in your abdomen. Each one of his thrusts stoking the roaring fire in your senses, beads of sweat pooling in the curves of your body as you moved in tandem with the Ghoul.

"Fuck - Sayin' my name all pretty like," He grunted, his head falling back as he pulled one of his hands back, cracking his rough palm against the soft of your ass. You yelped, body flinching at both the sting and the sudden sound, but that seemed to only rouse his hunger for you more. You gasped and arched into the rhythm of his thrusts, feeling the slickness of your saliva and his thickness meld together in a twisted symphony of desire. You pressed against the warehouse, white-knuckled as the pleasure and pain coursed through your body. Every slap echoed in your ears, each time intensifying the sensation, your body clenching around him as you begged for more.

"Cooper, please" You cried out once more, the words tumbling from your lips as if his name was the only thing you'd ever need to say. His hands were tight on your hips, a strangled moan escaping him as he took you. Your eyes fluttered shut, lost to the euphoria of it all. You could feel the walls of your entrance clenching and pulsing around him, the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. The Ghoul's rough hands explored your body as your hips began to meet his animalistic thrusts, matching the rhythm and urgency until you were both moving in perfect synchrony, a symbiosis of lust and need. You clawed at the warehouse wall, your legs trembling as your body inched closer and closer to the edge.

"Shit, I'm- I can't, I'm gonna," You knew it wouldn't be long, the coiled rope of need within you was about to snap. A low growl escaped his throat in response, the sound of it sending shivers down your spine, and you knew he was close as well. A hand gripped your hair, tugging gently, his other hand still wrapped over your hip as he drove into you with renewed fervor.

"Cum for me, baby," He moaned for you, a bated breath on his lips. And so you did, the world shattering around you in a wash of blinding pleasure, the shudder that wracked your body echoing the spasms of your core. You screamed his name once more, the sound guttural and raw, as you shattered into pieces, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. Each spasm of your inner muscles caused him to shudder, his own release close at hand. You could feel your knees shaking, his body accommodating your limp weight as he kept you close against him.

"Look at you, fucked so stupid you can't even stand, sugar?" Cooper spoke between grunts, his hands lined with tremors as he held onto you with a desperate gasp. "Shit baby," His eyes locked on your ass, watching how you threw your weight back against him with reckless abandon - He clenched his jaw tight, the fire in his mind and senses sparking aflame in a sharp thrust forward. His movements became messy, clinging to you and muttering obscenities, shuddering out gasps as the fire roared inside him. "This what'ya want huh? Get filled up rough by a man like me?" Cooper groaned at your responsive whimpers, tipping his chin forward in a slow nod, the fire crumbling into an explosion within mere seconds. He came with torn outcry, burying himself to the hilt inside you, watching your hips slowly milk all he was walling to give you.

For a long moment, you remained locked together, breaths coming in ragged pants, before he slowly pulled out of you, leaving you feeling both empty and full at the same time. You slumped forward, still clinging to the steel wall of the warehouse, feeling every nerve in your body tingling. The soft clatter of a glass bottle pulled you from the wading pleasure of your mind, eyes slowly opening to see a bottle of Rad X hit the heel of your shoe. You swore his hands were still on you, the heaving of his breaths still on your ear - Though as you turned, kneels wobbling slightly, he had disappeared into the sinking dusk of the wasteland. Your eyes circled the land around you, shoes crunching the gravel as you leaned your sweat glazed back against the warehouse.

"Fuck," You sighed the word through panted breaths, glancing down at the Rax X, and quickly doing a double take upon catching sight of something else. A leather glove, discarded in the sand and gravel. With a hesitant breath, you leaned down slightly, fingers hooking the glove into your grasp. You held the warm leather in your hand, turning it in your grasp fondly.

Surely he'd be back for this.

[themareverine]

— Kingdoms

Worst!Wolverine x Jurassic World: Rebirth crossover

Worst!Wolverine x mutant!fem!wife!reader

the universe: Almost a decade since Jurassic World assets began mingling with humanity, mutants have forfeited the world's stage to a different threat of extinction, new predators — all for the kingdom of humanity to come crashing down, seemingly, around them. Yet a sliver of hope lingers between the border of hell and back — there's really only two to call when trouble comes knocking. And they thought they had it bad with Cassandra Nova and her scheme to erase time and space? Yeah, right.

warnings: DP&W AU, Jurassic World: Rebirth AU/inspiration. features fem!mutant!OC "Mare" from my Wolverine AU series Mare and the Wolverine, established marriage, OC has the same mutations as Logan inherited from Weapon X experimentation, Jurassic World/Park elements, this is really just a teaser idea based on the yesterday-released trailer.

a/n: this is really me fulfilling an itch my brain somehow managed to create, but doesn't need. dedicating this to @itsgoghtime even though I know she isn't a Wolverine girlie. but. Jurassic content is Jurassic content.

"And you're ensuring I'd be relatively safe?"

Between the two of them, their brows lift in opposite directions.

His, a deep furrow that carves cavernous lines across his features, expression darkening to an unreadable even Henry, on a day he's actually trying, can't discern. Her, on the contrary, brows bounce the opposite direction— in a more amused way, as if the idea were funny. Hilarious, even, given the crack of a smile that pulls at the corner of her mouth, how the muscle along her jawline ticks off.

Entertained — she thought the question was funny.

"I don't 'ensure' shit, doc," Logan Howlett's voice is rough, carrying a dismissive air about it as he eases hands into his pockets. For a second, he can't believe this is Logan Howlett, the Wolverine. It's unthinkable, almost unbelievable.

Charm swiftly evaporates under his cutting laugh.

"Sounds to me like this place is right on the edge of hell — could'a pitched this gig to any go team this side of the border." He knows the answer he's probing for, Henry knows this. He's making a sarcastic point.

It's venomous, all the same. There couldn't be any more animosity to his tone if he'd patented the word.

"That's not —"

Krebs tries to step forward, gesturing with a hand as if to sweep away the thought — it doesn't work. Logan cuts him a look that's as close to deathly serious as any would think, his jaw tightening with a bone-shattering clench that the adamantium compound of his skeletal makeup barely feels.

"Logan."

Voice of angelic reason, praise be.

Logan's gaze cuts to her immediately, and for a moment, Henry wonders if this man — the all-legend Wolverine and his twin-plagued wife— is even capable of emotion beyond the vermillion anger hemorrhaging from his gaze.

She's supposed to be the woman he loves— his wife, from what the dossier had provided. One would never know, the way he considers her interject. As if its hot poison poured directly into his chest, vendetta to kill him — some grave atrocity that has pushed him into the bounds of sin that time, nor love, can forgive.

Legend around them spins like cyclonic energy. He's been alive 200 years, she's nearly 90. How is this possible, these two barbarians? Fascinating, really.

Reeling, Henry slowly seats himself at the table, his cold China cup of tea staring back at him with all the blankness the world could offer.

Howlett's gaze flicks from her, back to Krebs, who hasn't moved beyond the singular step he's managed in their direction.

"Don't fuckin' stand there and bullshit me, bub," the words cut from his tongue like an acidic blade, his gaze piercing even to the division of soul and flesh, "you know this is a suicide run, and you figured you'd offer it to the two people this side of the grave that can't fuckin' die. Wasn't born yesterday, but you knew that already, didn't you?"

Krebs' sigh is slow, resolved. Almost resigned. "That's not why, Mr. Howlett," his fingers steep together beneath his nose, and from here, Henry can see he's mustering patience from the depths of his marrow, "humanity is dying. We have the opportunity to —"

"— yeah, well, maybe they should get in fucking line."

[moist-for-xavier]

Would you mind writing a fic where nb reader is doing Charles' make up and they are lightheartedly flirting and in the end when they finished by putting lipgloss on his lips he’s like „finally I can do this?” „Do what?” And he kisses them leaving some of lipgloss on her lips

In your hands

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: I loved this request. So adorable. And yes, it’s post Cuba incident Charles. I just want to take care of him. Also I’m a cis girl so I tried my best at gender neutral reader. I hope it’s good 🙏🏼 I also don’t know how to do make up since I don’t wear any because of my raging allergies 🥹

Summary: basically the ask

You smiled as you stood at the doorway of Charles’ room. It was a cold evening where he promised to heaven and back that he would finally spend time with you after blowing you off for grading tests or other paperwork. So now it was just the two of you for the evening. You could already feel the butterflies in your tummy as you closed the door and stepped in.

“You’re already here? What are we doing then?” Charles gave you a lopsided grin as he watched you enter. You could already feel his mind, his mutation unintentionally pushing against yours to let you in. But more precisely you felt his eyes roam up from your fluffy, cow shaped slippers, up your fluffy pyjama pants, your waist and body covered by an equally fluffy robe. You grinned and held up the pink bag you came in with.

The telepath tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“Okay? Care to elaborate?” he asked. You grinned and rolled your eyes at him. You walked over, tossing the bag gently to him as you crawled on the bed to sit by his knees, facing him. He gave you a suspicious look before zipping the bag open and looking inside. He pulled out a couple products, a moisturiser and a primer only to be left confused. It only hit him when we saw an eyeshadow palette and concealer. He sighed and gave you a tired smile.

“Just let me take care of you, beautiful.” you said gently as you scooted closer, sitting hip to hip with him. His kind blue eyes studied your face carefully as if searching for any kind of sarcasm or joking. But all he found was genuine care. He sighed and shook his head.

“It’s not like I can run away” he joked playfully. “What do we start with?” he asked. You could see his body relax as he leaned back into the cushions, looking as handsome as ever as he looked up at you.

“Well, we start with a moisturiser. You have a beautiful skin and our skin tones don’t match, so I won’t put on foundation” you smiled as she dug through the small bag to pull out a gentle moisturiser. Before that, however, you pulled your headband off and put it on him to keep his hair away. Then you plopped a bit of the cream onto your fingers, spreading it around your hands evenly. You grinned as you took his cheeks into your hands spreading the cream around and massaging it in. Your fingers glided nimbly against his soft skin, his head falling back and eyelids closed. A sigh of relief left his lips as your cool fingers massaged the cream into the bags under his eyes, smoothing down the wrinkles between his eyebrows. You smiled, trailing your hands down his neck to get rid of the excess cream. His skin was feverishly hot, not missing the red tint spreading to his cheeks.

“Okay, handsome. Now we make those eyebags disappear” you said, digging through the bag to pull out your concealer. He looked at you with a dazed smile as if in a trance. You glance over at him through your lashes, giving him a quick raised brows and a smile before moving to lean over him again. You opened the concealer, cupping his jaw gently and applying the concealer under his eyes, around his nostrils and the exactly two pimples he’s had in a month. Not having the heart to use the dirty sponge to blend out the concealer, as well as wanting ti touch him as much as possible. So you used your fingers, gently dabbing the concealer away into his alabaster skin.

“Your fingers are cold. Would you like me to warm them up?” he asked, his eyes finding yours. He reached his hands up, taking ahold of your hands, bringing them to his lips. He kissed your fingers gently, blowing some warm air onto them.

“Charles!” you laughed and pulled your hands back from his lips. You could already feel the heat crawling up your neck to dig its claws into your cheeks.

“Quit it, Charles!” you said as you pulled a powdered blush out of her bag along with a fluffy brush. You opened up the case, taking some of the product on the brush and gently patted the blush into his cheeks. Then, after putting that away, you pulled out an eyebrow pencil. You twisted a little out and with couple brushes you filled in his eyebrows, even if it was unnecessary.

“What eyeshadow do you want?” You asked and put the eyebrow pencil away to pull out a colourful palette.

“I don’t know…”

“Yellow and blue then” you ordered with a grin. Opening the palette and taking out couple brushes. You moved up, straddling his waist and pushing him down to rest against the headboard. You smiled, watching him as he stared up at you as if you put the stars in the sky, his cheeks growing red. Obviously, the slightly suggestive position immediately shut down whatever cheeky thing he had in mind.

“Close your eyes for me, my love” you said in a slight sultry voice, watching in delight as he nodded dumbly and closed his eyes. You dipped your brush into the yellow palette, putting it on his eyelids. Your hips slid further up to make contact with Charles’ lower stomach as you concentrated. You felt his shaky breath against your neck, making you smile. Taking out another brush you applied the dark blue to the edge of his eyelid and smoked it out into his skin.

After finishing with that you took out an eyeliner, opening it up and cupping his jaw.

“Tilt your head for me?” you asked gently, angling his head up to you, his chin pressing against the middle of your chest. Your hand slid to the back of his head as you applied the eyeliner to his eyelids, his warm hands settling against your thighs.

“Good boy. Now just mascara and lipstick” you praised with a grin, feeling him shiver ever so slightly. Putting the eyeliner away, picking up a mascara and gently applying it to his eyelashes, staring into his eyes while he stared right back.

“What lipstick colour you want?” you asked and dug through your baggie, pulling out a lipgloss.

“I don’t know. Dark red.” he said with a laugh and a dismissive shrug. You grinned and pulled out a deep maroon colour. Hand on his cheek you angled his face up at you again, opening the tube and twisting a bit out. And with an intense eye contact you applied it to his plush lips.

“Okay. Now lipgloss” you said and opened the tube of lipgloss, spreading it on his lips. Moving back, or trying to if his hands on your hips didn’t stop you, to admire your work.

“Finally. Can I finally do it?” he asked and batted his eyelashes up at you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Do what?” you asked cluelessly. It took only split second for his hands to fly up from your hips to your face, bringing you down. Your hands fell on his shoulders, squeezing the fabric tightly when he kissed you. It felt as if the time stopped that moment and it was just you two and the electric kiss. You breathed out, arms sliding around his neck before pulling out.

“I wanted to do that for a while….can we call this a date please?” he asked sheepishly making you laugh.

“Yes please…” with that he brought you back down for another kiss, not caring the lipstick has been on his lips for exactly 15 seconds before it got smudged to hell

[mlm-writer]

Filling (Peter Parker x M!Reader)

Pairing: Omega!Peter Parker (TASM ver.) x Alpha!Kryptonian!Cis!Male!Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 1221 POV: Second Summary: Peter is in heat and has the baby fever. As his mate, it is your duty to help him make it through the heat. Note: Merging requests now in the hopes to one day get my inbox empty Tags: omegaverse, no mpreg, mentions of getting pups, breeding, multiple orgasms, knotting, overstimulation, is it spidey sense or is Peter just autistic (both if you ask me), fluffy smut, established relationship, biting/marking and a little aftercare

Peter could hear the moisture being pumped through the wall by the aircon. He felt every breeze of cold air circle through his bedroom. The cold wind played with a receipt on top of the dresser. Each rustle of paper set off his Spidey sense, the instinct telling him there was danger everywhere. There was danger everywhere lurking. He had to protect his pups. He did not have pups (yet). Peter tried making his nest on the bed air tight, but it was no use. Every second made him more antsy than the previous one. That was until the door opened and his boyfriend came running in. The instant waft of fresh alpha pheromones was like a douse of cold water on a hot day. 

You had seen through the door how anxious Peter was. His heart was hammering, breathing almost just as rapid. However, it couldn’t be helped. You had run out of water way sooner than you had anticipated and needed more. “I am so sorry, omega, I’m here,” you cooed as you put the two dozen one litre bottles of water by the door, taking a few to scatter them across the room. Peter made a whiny sound from under his pile. He was near-overheating and yet he had nestled himself there. You rushed over to the windows, closed the small gap that had formed between the curtains. When you were sure the light in the room was minimal, you started removing pillows from the top of the pile, until you saw some brown hair peeking out. 

As soon as you gave that mess a peck, Peter emerged, pulling at your clothes. You had just worn a zipper hoodie and sweatpants that could be pulled down in one go. The choice of outfit had been deliberate. Peter got you out of your fit without ripping anything and immediately pressed his nose against your scent glands. He inhaled deeply. “I need your babies, alpha,” he demanded, voice trembling with the need that seemed to be soaking his bones. You could smell the slick dripping down his thighs. You knew he could not have your babies due to Kryptonian DNA being incompatible with his mutated DNA, but you indulged in his fantasy; logic was about the last thing your mate needed right now.

“I’ll breed you properly, my sweet omega,” you whispered as you pushed Peter down onto the bed. He smacked the pillows around, until he was lying down comfortably, legs spread wide to invite his alien mate. His scent alone was enough to arouse you, the heat pheromones doing exactly what they were designed for. 

When you entered him, Peter found something beyond relief. It was like finding a guiding light in a storm of emotions and needs beyond even his own comprehension. With his focus on your big cock pushing at his walls, he could no longer pay attention to his spidey sense going crazy over every sound in the room and every texture on his skin. With his alpha caging him against the bed, the musky alpha scent blocked out all other scents. The endless stream of sensory input was intercepted and all that his brain needed to process from here on was his strong alpha, his love, his mate. His alpha was going to keep him safe. He was going to give him pups. He wanted - no, needed - it. 

Peter could hear his alpha’s cells charged with solar energy from his brief run to get more water. The energy buzzed in his skin and Peter could almost feel the hum on his own skin. The strong Kryptonian lifted him up with ease, holding him close while pounding his greedy, wet hole violently. Peter cried for more, needing all his senses filled with the other man. He needed to feel his alpha and his alpha only. You were the shelter that could protect him and his pups from the hazards of the outside world.

You could see how far away Peter was. He was always like this during his heat, overstimulated to the max and needing you to give him a singular focus. Your Kyptonian powers proved useful in providing you all the information you could want on his vitals. He would need to drink soon, but you knew he would not without having at least one orgasm. So you held him closer, using your super strength to lift him up and put him against the wall, railing him like that until he let out a loud cry and he made a mess. “So good for me, omega. Keep going for me. Come on, again.” Peter wailed as he obeyed your command. You could feel his orgasm dripping down your skin. The scent of his own climaxes mixed with the spice of sex in the air, overwhelmed Peter’s senses. He trashed as his brain was assaulted by the arousing olfactory stimuli. He forced his eyes open, meeting yours as you kept your foreheads pressed together while rearranging his insides. 

It was hard to keep yourself from finishing too soon. Peter was scorching around you. His cries were almost deafening, but you did not want it to stop; he was just too ravishing with tears pooling at the corners of his eyes and his mouth open as if he couldn’t believe he was having a third orgasm so soon. You tangled your fingers in his sweaty hair and pulled his head to the side, your teeth sinking into the faded mating scar. Peter cried out and spasmed as the sensations flooded him. Your teeth drew his fourth orgasm out of him. You licked over the red skin, knowing it would bruise later and even looking forward to seeing it. 

There was only so much you could do. Eventually even your steel willpower could not keep your knot from swelling up, locking you in as you filled Peter with incredible volume. “Yes, thank you alpha, so full,” Peter sobbed, “I can feel your pups already, alpha.” You groaned and forced Peter’s face into the crook of your neck, making sure his nose was pressed against your scent gland. Peter’s mumbling grew incoherent as you thrusted your knot as much as you could while locked together like this. He babbled on about pups, his body trembling from the overstimulation. Your legs were shaking too, the weight of him was easy to endure, but the tightness gripping at your knot was less so. 

You were glad when you felt Peter’s body going slack. He was barely conscious by the time you carried him to the bed, sitting against the headboard with him in your lap. Your knot kept your bodies close together, but you could still reach for one of the water bottles you placed near the bed. After a good few gulps, you pressed the opening of the bottle against Peter’s glistening lips. It took a few bumps, before he realised he needed to drink. 

With your help, Peter managed to drink, before slumping back against you. You smiled as you caressed his sweaty back, drinking in his scent and relaxing in the eye of the storm. Later you would have to do this all over again, but for now, all you could hear in the bedroom was the whirring aircon and the heartbeat of the man you loved. 

[heian-era-housewife]

Synopsis | You just want to be "normal". Is that too much to ask? A trip to Walmart with Sukuna may be just what you need to remind you that being normal is overrated.

Content | g/n!reader x true form sukuna, fluff, crack, agoraphobia, social phobia, mention of self loathing, mental health *or lack thereof*

A/N | If you're new here, Hi! I'm Yuri and I live with agoraphobia. Fittingly, the roots of this word are "market place" and "fear", but really it is a social phobia based around leaving one's house or being in public/crowded places. As with any mental health issue, it takes many forms.

Anyway, this is an oddly specific and very much self indulgent drabble based on pretty much every experience I've ever had with Walmart. Including today.

Hope you enjoy!

"I still don't understand why you're making me do this." Sukuna said, head leaning on the glass of the passenger-side window of your car where he sat, all four arms crossed in visible annoyance.

"We need groceries 'Kuna." You remind him. "And please put your seatbelt back on."

He rolled his eyes with a scowl. Pulling enough slack from the belt to stretch across his broad chest, he struggled for several seconds to find the buckle hiding under his beefy thigh. 

"This is stupid. I told you Uraume can go to the market for us."

"And I told you that I wanted to try being a normal human being for once." You retort.

"Hmph." He pouted. "I fail to see how a- what did you call it?"

"A 'Walmart Run'?"

"I fail to see how a run to 'Walmart' makes one a 'normal human'." 

"'Kuna, you know how bad my anxiety is. I love that Uraume does so much for us, but I'm afraid if I never step out of my box again, I'll regress and turn into some sort of shut-in. I just want to be normal. I want to be like everyone else. Y'know?"

In place of an answer, he gestured sarcastically to his own mutated form. His four eyes blinking in stone-cold irony.

"Okay, okay." You conceded. "You know what I mean."

It had been a while since you'd gone anywhere. Your needs were always provided for in Sukuna's estate, and whatever he didn't have, he sent Uraume to get. As an agoraphobe, this life suited you perfectly. But there was still a piece of you that craved that social ingredient that made you feel less broken, even if it did fill you with dread. 

The trip started out okay. You grabbed a cart and skirted the outer aisles, avoiding the ones where employees were stocking shelves or people bustled about for more popular items. 

As time went on, however, your chest grew tighter, the sounds grew louder, and your personal bubble was at risk of popping.

Suddenly, the simple act of reaching for milk became a tunnel-vision inducing nightmare of shifting carts and bumping elbows all to the backdrop of a small child wailing somewhere nearby. 

You were frozen. Caught in the mayhem. Were you holding your breath or hyperventilating? You didn't even know. Why were you so bad at this? How did this come so easy to other people? And what were you even trying to grab? Was it milk? It must have been milk? Or maybe it was something else and if it was milk was it 2% or maybe whole and why was that child still screaming can't someone do something about that? wasn't anyone else feeling nauseated? and when did it get so hot were the aisles always this narrow?OhGodWhyDidIComeHereAtAll? thiswasaterribleidea?¿?¿? jfhjfs#$&*

Sukuna reached over you, grabbing the milk and throwing it in the cart before swooping his arms around your shoulders and waist, guiding you toward the front of the store.

"Come on, kid." He said in a low grumble. "I think you've had enough. Let's get out of here."

Numb legs carry you forward as you trudge your way toward the self-checkout. You stare blankly in a dissociative state while Sukuna scans the groceries by himself, large hands and fingers fumbling through the prompts on the small touch screen.

Useless. You're so useless. You think to yourself. Can't you do anything? Why are you so weird? So...broken?

"I'm so...weak..." You mumble feebly.

"Come again?" Sukuna grunts with his broad back to you, shoving crumpled bills unsuccessfully into the beeping machine.

"I said you must think I'm so weak." You say, louder this time, bitter tears forming on the rim of your lashes.

"Don't be foolish!" He says. "Of course I think you're weak! You're the weakest human I know!"

You look at him wide-eyed, momentarily pulled from your self-loathing by the shock of his admission. 

"Look at you!" He says, turning around to face you. "You can't even go to the grocery store without having a problem for, God's sake. This is exactly why you need me!"

His words fell heavy on your shoulders. Weighing you down. Making you small. Sure, nothing he said was untrue. But to hear it out loud-

"But you're also the kindest human I know." He continued softly. "You feel more deeply. You never stop trying. You're strong where it counts. You taught me love. You take me to ridiculous places. So yeah. Sure. You're scared of things that don't bother 'normal people'. But where the rest of the world looks upon the King of Curses with nothing but fear and loathing, you look upon me with love and compassion, never once bothered that I wasn't a 'normal person'." 

The tears began to flow. Sukuna took your face in his hands, calloused thumbs gently rubbing them from your cheeks. "And that- that is why I need you." 

A chorus of soft "awwws" came from the other nearby shoppers who had gathered to hear the disfigured man's booming monologue. Cottontop grandmas dabbed at their eyes, while the balding clerk overseeing self-checkout stood from his three-legged stool with a slow, appreciative clap. 

Sukuna's face fell flat with an unamused sigh. "Now can we get out of Walmart before I feel the need to burn the place down?"

That got you to smile. "Sure thing, King."

Bonus Track

On the way back to the car, Sukuna had some Thoughts™️ to share about his first ever trip to Walmart:

-So that was it, huh? I can see why you wouldn't like going there.

-I'd never want to leave my house either if I had to acquire sustenance from a place like that.

-And did you see some of the freaks??

-No, really! You think I'm bad? You could fill the entire internet with the amount of WEIRDOS I saw in there.

-Trust me, there was not one "normal human" in there.

-And why do we call it a "Walmart Run"? The only running I wanted to do was to get out of there.

-Oh! Is that why?

-Heck, you know what, Imma burn it down.

[finisnihil]

Do you have any jingluo rambles or headcanons :3

I'd like to know more ☺️

Oh hi thanks for the ask! I don't typically talk about my more fanon ideas because I usually like to do analysis/theories of the canon material, so most of the time I write my headcanons and stuff into my fics or whatnot but! I'm totally happy to talk about some of them!

-More so a theory I'll die on the hill of but I do think Luocha is an Emanator, I have a post explaining my evidence here! It's not the most fleshed out because it was one of my first posts on here but yeah!

-One of my big Luocha headcanons is the flowers blooming out of his hair according to his emotions. He's considered an Abomination of Yaoshi, a term only really used for Mara-struck, and the Mara-struck typically have mutations of like ginkgo brances/leaves growing from their bodies. I think it'd make sense if Luocha also displayed Mara symptoms in his own weird way!

-I like to think Luocha can kinda "eat/digest" Mara. To me, Mara reads like a weird combination of rabies and chronic wasting disease. Vultures are a favorite bird of mine and they have extremely strong stomach acid, strong enough to digest rabies. They help manage the spread of rabies because of this and I can see Luocha's body functioning a similar way with Mara. Something percieved as scary or gross (Emanator of the Abundance/a scavenger that eats predominantly dead animals) but being essential to the managing of a healthy ecosystem because they perform a thankless task.

-Jing Yuan has crows feet. Even though the Xianzhou people don't really age past a certain point and their bodies stay that way no matter what (see: Dan Shu and her explanation of disabilities on the Xianzhou which is incredibly interesting) he is 721-ish years old and he smiles a lot. I think it'd be sweet to see evidence of that, that despite everything he still can smile so much it leaves little lines of joys in his face.

-Jing Yuan to me is more of an acts of service guy (His being General shows his love for the Luofu because taking care of its people is the ultimate act of service). I think Jingliu was also more of an acts of service person because to her fighting was all she lived for, for a while, so her showing love is wielding her sword for somebody (like wielding it against Baiheng to free her). I think that's a way Jing Yuan kinda embodies her yaknow? As for Luocha, he's more a quality time person. He's a traveler who doesn't really have anywhere permanent to call home so he likes to soak up as much time with the people he loves as he can before he's forced to move on again. He also likes receiving gifts because they're momentos of those people he can carry with him.

-I think Luocha would like to garden but he's never had a permanent place to do so, so when they get together he just takes over Jing Yuan's garden (which is suffering due to Jing Yuan's busy schedule) and rules it with an iron fist. The neighbors are jealous.

-I saw this post propose that Jing Yuan might be half Foxian and I really love that idea so that's something I like to chew on

-Both Luocha and Jing Yuan are strategic people and Luocha is one of the few people who have successfully outsmarted Jing Yuan so I imagine their enrichment is playing strategic games together. Western chess (my beloved), General's chess, Go, etc. I imagine Luocha is better at western chess and Jing Yuan at Go and General's chess, simply bc those were the games they were raised with.

-Luocha runs cold and Jing Yuan runs hot. Adding to that, if Luocha is an Emanator, he's probably stuck in this pseudo-death limbo so I imagine he's cooler to the touch. Meanwhile, Jing Yuan is very alive and pretty active, therefore warmer to the touch. Jing Yuan likes to nap resting on Luocha because it's like having a cool pillow and Luocha likes it because Warm. He would also like to tease Jing Yuan by putting his cold hands on the back of his neck or something and make Jing Yuan jump due to not expecting it.

-Being General is a demanding and exhausting job. I can imagine Jing Yuan doesn't really spend a lot of time on self-care in that aspect. He has a planet-ship to run after all so he probably doesn't care too much about what shampoo or soap he uses. Luocha is appalled and uses his connections as a merchant to acquire quality stuff (some of which is better for foxian hair types) to systematically switch out when Jing Yuan isn't paying attention. Jing Yuan obviously notices but he doesn't particularly care, later noticing his skin is less dry and his hair is way softer and healthier.

-Jing Yuan can cook but it's a 50/50 on if it actually ends up eatable. His job can be tiring and I imagine sometimes he's just too dead tired to stay awake and the food burns or whatever. After him and Luocha get together, Luocha will cook or he'll check on the food for him.

-I've been pinging around the idea of Jing Yuan having narcolepsy

[goodolddumbbanana]

[Bad end au 2] A sleepless night

Part 1

‘I love the fact that I can look into your eyes and see nothing but lies…’

Two weeks before Dark Sun kickdrop Nexus for Sun.

The sound of dripping water disturbed Sun’s already fragile sleep.

The lily-colored animatronic groaned lazily on the bed, its metallic senses sinking deep into the soft quilt, struggling like a lazy child refusing to wake up.

The dim electric blue light covered Sun’s small, narrow room like a curtain, reflecting the solitude of its owner, when the most prominent thing in this room was only a few plum blossom petals that Molten had collected and placed on Sun’s desk.

Sun couldn’t sleep. The robot didn’t need to sleep, but closing his eyes and turning off the power still brought about a certain feeling of comfort. 

It was just that… The tasks that Father assigned piled up on top of each other, spinning Sun around like a pinwheel, to the point that even when Sun lay down, his interface system still popped up with painful notifications of things to do.

And today was one of those days when the restlessness Sun shouldn’t have felt in his chest suddenly became more intense, like the way the sensor in his abdomen contracted, rolling as if someone’s nails were scratching it, or the screws in his body suddenly became too heavy, too wobbly for Sun’s liking.

Putting his hand on his chest, Sun realized that his fan was too hot. The warmth radiating from the metal casing tickled Sun’s fingers, making him unconsciously press harder, as if testing whether the heat would melt his hand. 

His claws leisurely ran along the gold plating, slowly spreading up his neck, touching the red tassel and pressing down hard.

‘It’s hard to imagine what would happen if he squeezed harder.’

Sun thought absentmindedly, as his hands gently caressed and drew the joints of his neck. The cold hard steel, with its circular patterns and sturdy screws, held the wire he walked in one direction. He could almost feel the heat of the electricity running, the clocks and gears slowly turning to simulate the biological mechanism of a human.

The child whose neck he had broken the day before didn't have time to scream, nor did it shed a drop of blood. Just a stiff crunch of broken bones and a panicked wheeze, mixed with the tears of the small hand trying to reach Sun's arm before it stopped.

It was almost like a hug when Sun wrapped his arms around the child's neck. Soft, small and warm, and then there was no warmth left. Even as he ran his arms through the child's hair or held it completely in his arms, what he touched was still numb as ice, cold as winter seawater, and stiff as a machine.

Sun had kept the child like that for almost a day before Father came to make him throw it away. ‘It was so unhygienic’, that's what he was told when his Father threw the child into the blender.

‘Where do you think the fertilizer for my potted plants comes from, you stupid child.’ Creator pointed to the lush, mutated potted plants that grew twisted and twisted all over their lair, to the ancient tree beside the bridge that swirled with dark water below.

‘Soul for energy, flesh and blood for fertilizer, and bones for materials.’

‘It seems that despite all the modifications, you are still making me feel so disappointed…’

Creator’s voice hummed, and in that dark darkness, Sun was not alone. Something writhed and trembled, the cries of trapped remnants, cracked skulls staring intently at him—

Sun was released about a day later.

The blood was something sweet and dirty, it was slippery and sticky on Sun’s metal skin, dripping with every step he took.

And the smell was the worst. Like rotten pizza and rotten fish, Sun couldn’t wash away the smell even after using countless detergents.

Sun didn’t remember how long it took him to clean and dispose of all the meat stuck to his bell after he crawled out of the hole…

***

“Do you want to get out yet, my boy?”

The Creator’s voice was sweet as honey but full of venom. The brain looked down at the yellow animatronic covered in blood that was trembling non-stop, but still couldn’t drop something like a child’s skull in his arms.

“Then bring Lunar to me.”

***

Squirming to sit up, Sun didn’t think he could lie down any longer, as his processor was now repeating the image of maggots crawling on him for the nth time.

He really didn’t know what to do… Capture Lunar?

Lunar was much stronger than Sun… And the boy was smart too… There was no way Sun could fool his little brother.

And he didn’t want to…

The dilemma made him fiddle with the bandage wrapped around his hand. The red smelled rancid, but Sun still wrapped the soft fabric around his fingertips and pulled.

He would rather be destroyed again than to choose something like this.

In truth, Sun didn’t like any of what his father had ordered.

It was wrong in every way, and Lunar was someone he never wanted to hurt.

But every time he thought like that, something was washed through his system, and the desire to obey his father grew stronger and stronger, making the morality Sun tried to cling on withered.

Sun didn’t understand why in the past, he could scream and curse at his father as much as possible but now, just a shake of the head from Creator was enough to make his 1 and 0 coded heart cringe.

Follow, follow, follow, that's what his head and code table whispered, it was almost like an addiction, the excitement and joy of completing what his father asked.

And Sun was always the one to follow, and no matter how much he resisted, he still couldn't fight back.

Because father is family.

And it's better to be a heartless dog than to make his father sad.

Maybe being broken would be easier to fix than this. Sun sighed, standing up. The wandering thoughts in his head made Sun wish that if there was something that could help him manage both, both pleasing Creator and keeping Lunar safe, then Sun would be satisfied.

His feet touched the cold floor, the sound of metal clanking as Sun carefully opened the door and stepped out.

The cold wind blew through him, blowing cold air onto Sun's rays.

The smooth whiteness flowed like silk into his vision. The silence was as bleak as a mirror, following the corner of Sun's feet. Father was probably out with his friend somewhere, or still busy in the lab. 

Sun alone, toiling, wandering, perhaps cleaning up again if he got too bored, though Sun usually tried not to. More or less, this was the only free time he had when Father wasn't sending him and Molten off to some unknown time and space to find something or deal with someone his brain desired.

He tried to hum a tune, but sadly, there was nothing in his head right now. The sound of running water grew louder, as he stepped onto the bridge. 

The echoes echoed along with the sound of the bells wrapped around Sun's wrists, bouncing off the steel on the bridge. The cool scent of water tickled his sensory system, caressing the golden animatronic’s back as the green leaves gently brushed against Sun’s light.

It was 4am, his internal clock system announced softly. The water flowed gently, bottomless, pitch black and glowing with chemical green. The flower petals drifted, occasionally a plum blossom petal would touch Sun’s shoulder, the playful lines on the hem of his skirt wrapped around his waist.

Sun was lost in thought, but there was really nothing on his mind.

It was just the familiar feeling of stagnation that even cleaning had lost its charm, not after he had scrubbed this lair more than a dozen times a day. The wind blew, the waves rolled, and everything drifted out of Sun’s control like some planet lost its orbit.

“So this is what you do when our esteemed father lets you rest?”

“Pathetic. Can’t you think of anything more helpful to our Creator, Sun?”

Sun didn’t even need to look. His audio processor could have picked up that arrogant and even-tempered tone anywhere.

“Oh, Goliath. Didn’t see you there? Heh… What business does our father have with me?”

The silence of the gears slowly turning against each other. A harsh growl answered, as rough as gravel being crushed into dust.

“… No.”

“So you came out here on your own?” Sun raised an eyebrow, his pearly eyes narrowing in amusement, ignoring the instinct that told him not to provoke the sleeping lion, or this time, a gorilla.

“Whoa! And I thought you only knew how to follow the Creator’s orders and turn off the power? How amazing.” 

“Congratulations, you finally have thoughts on your own.”

Sun was genuinely surprised by his counterpart’s actions, but the words he uttered under the influence of his lack of a personality chip made his words sound rather sarcastic.

And honestly, Sun didn’t care if Goliath decided to strangle him here.

“Shut your mouth. You’re the last person I want to hear that come out of your mouth. I’m not here to entertain an inferior thing like you.”

The giant animatronic, with a haughty and disdainful look, stared at him as if he were looking at an ant on the ground, or a puppy that had been hit by a car and the vet had long gone to sleep, leaving it to writhe and bleed on the side of the road to dead.

Sun just sighed, compared to what Goliath usually said, this could be considered the gentlest. The gorilla seemed to be in some sort of moody mood as well, as they too turned their gazes to the river like him, saying nothing, only their processors making clicking noises of recognition.

“So Goliath… If not because Father wants to see me… What are you doing here?”

The silence was a perfect chord for a tone-deaf man. Sun hadn’t meant to ask, but the restlessness that existed deep within his code made his mouth conjure up the huge elephant in the room.

Of course, the only response he got was a slap across the face, a ruffling of a cat’s fur.

“None of your business.” Their voices were mocking, and defensive.

They looked as if they would break his entire beam before throwing him into the water, and pulled him up. And did it again. Again and again because Sun’s metal is too heavy for him to swim.

But Goliath wasn’t his father. So Sun could still calmly ignore the hidden threats in the words of the one who treated silence as a competition and they always had to be the champion, and let his mind drift into nothingness, which Sun did quite a lot these days.

“Suit yourself.” Sun yawned. He suddenly felt a little cold, which was strange considering the fact that he was just a robot. The feeling of exhaustion from every bolt, which had been getting heavier lately…

Sun wasn’t the smartest, but even he himself  had figured out that being so close to the Wither Storm debris wasn’t a good thing.

“You shouldn’t be like this. I remember you used to be so much—”

There was something annoyed in Goliath’s voice, making Sun turn back to look at him in spite of himself.

Maybe it was anger, or nostalgia. Or maybe his fan was faulty. Sun didn't understand, nor could he remember how to handle it, as a burning sensation in his chest that made it hard to breathe came as quickly as it had gone, before being extinguished as coldly as Goliath's words had metaphorically nailed into Sun's head.

What did Goliath expect Sun to be?

Uptight, cowardly, too helpless in his own emotions?

Imprisoned by fear of everything?

Stupid to the end?

Sun didn't mean he'd gotten any smarter, but at least for now he felt fine. The feeling he never could enjoy since the day he was alive.

Guess his father was right.

Life was pain.

And the easiest way to end the pain was to become a machine again.

The comfort of not having to worry about anything but obeying his father's orders, it turned out to be more comfortable than he thought.

Still, in the face of the stupidity and meanness of the person who was always jealous and comparing themselves to him, Sun just smiled, his social AI chip calculating the most likely answers to lessen the gorilla's arrogance before flipping the table and throwing every answer it had predicted down the drain.

"Ah... I don't understand what you mean?"

And the orange light flickering in their eyes almost reminded him of a candy corn smoldering as if thinking about something, before regretfully turning away.

"Idiot."

And leave Sun alone, like some asshole that dudebag is.

[simp-legend]

Victor Creed x oc

(Not finished)

Word count: 798

Writer's note: Hey everyone! So I haven't really been active in making posts that much which I deeply apologise for. I am hoping to slowly publish some one shots and show my fics on this platform. This being one of them! It's not finished, but it's just a rough draft of a potential chapter to a Victor Creed x oc fanfic I've been planning for a while now. So I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think of it! 😊

Remember to reblog and comment!

(Character's name) ran through the streets of Las Vegas, her feet slapping against the miserable sidewalk. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest. She could hear the blood rushing in her body. She was growing more exhausted and afraid by the second. She didn’t know if Logan was still brawling with Victor; and that other guy, she just knew she had to get out of there and put distance between her and the beast. ‘Fuck’, she didn’t even know how long she’d been running for or where she was going. She’d never been in Las Vegas before despite always wanting to visit.

The sudden sound of rapid footsteps behind her grew louder; her stamina was giving out. She pushed further, hoping to escape the beast chasing her. Her lungs heaved from the effort. (Character's name) couldn’t last this much longer; she knew that herself but she kept on pushing. The footsteps gained on her and the unmistakable sound of growling reached her ears. Her eyes darted around at the street in front of her and the possibilities of escaping grew in her head. Should she take a sharp turn onto a different street and hope she could outrun him despite being exhausted and not having a mutation that strengthened her stamina? Should she do a fake turn and head back the way she came and pray that Logan was alright and could protect her?

Her thoughts of how to escape were cut instantly as she was tackled, a grunt leaving her as she hit the cold ground, the air being taken away from her due to her attacker’s heavier build. Large, warm hands grappled her shoulders, pinning them to the cold street, sharp boned nails digging into them; but luckily not hard enough to draw blood (Character’s name) noted. She could feel his hot breath hitting her face as he panted.

(Character’s name) did the only thing she could think of in the moment to get herself out of the drastic situation, not caring about the possible outcome that could happen.

She threw her head back as hard as she could, slamming it against her captor’s. The released pressure on her shoulders and the pained grunt that came from the wild beast gave her the cue to swiftly scramble up from the ground

A rough hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her to the ground again in one harsh tug.

Quickly she was turned over, meeting the intense eyes of the man who was chasing her. He was huge. His build was bulky, broad, and perfectly muscular. His features were dark, rugged, and predatory. She couldn’t help but admit he was handsome, but she could never love him, she reminded herself not in the way that he wanted her to. He was too feral and it terrified her.

Her body went rigid as the animal-like man raised a clawed hand to her face, the back of his knuckles stroking her cheek.

“Now where have you been hiding all these years?”

She didn’t reply. She couldn’t even move her mouth to form a word let alone a sentence.

His eyes looked soft as they looked into hers, his hand continuing to linger on her cheeks. “Thought you were dead.” A look of danger loomed in his eyes. “But here you are.” His hand slowly traveled down her cheek until it rested at her neck, putting slight pressure on it whilst his thumb continuously brushed the skin of her neck. “Alive.”

“Stryker! Stryker, he made me fake my death. He forced me! He raised a gun to my head when I tried to disobey! I would actually be dead if I didn’t fake my death and follow his orders, please Victor you have to believe,” came the whimpered response from (Character’s name).

He yanked her up from the ground roughly, and pressed her against a nearby wall, a firm look on his face as he towered over her. He made her feel tiny, helpless.

“You swear to me you aren’t lying. I would hate to have to hurt a pretty thing like you.”

(Character’s Name) released a shaky breath, continuing to keep eye contact with Victor all while trying to concentrate on altering her current racing heart beat to a much calmer beat despite the situation she was in. She obviously knew about Victor’s heightened senses needed Victor to believe her so he wouldn’t kill her or go through with anything that he may have planned if he figured out the truth. The calmer her heartbeat was, the more Victor would believe her.

Victor’s face studied hers for what seemed like forever, trying to figure out if she was telling him the truth through his heightened senses. (Character’s name) remained calm, despite her legs trembling from under his piercing stare.

Writer's note: As you can tell this is a rough unfinished draft of a possible fic that I'm planning to write. Any constructive criticism is welcomed as I know there is a few things to be edited/add.

Please reblog and comment your opinions!

[silverwings22]

Starfall: Chapter 31: Stolen Starlight

Previous Chapter: Next Chapter:

“Why do they look like dandelion fluffies?” Emory laughed. She, Shadow, and Star had built a greenhouse behind their house in Mystic Ruins, where they grew the ARK plants alongside herbs for Star’s baking. All three of them spent time here, though Emory divided her time between the plants and rebuilding her lab from Crystal Keyhole in their basement instead. 

“I don’t know.” Star smiled fondly, picking up another feather seedling from the Spacelilies. Whatever Chaos mutations had occurred had created bioluminescent and entirely unique species, and Star loved them. The ARK lavender was filling a trellis nicely, and dropped purple pods the size of sunflower seeds when the flowers shrivelled. “I wonder if we could plant them somewhere else. These will look like paper lanterns on the wind if we let them loose.” 

“There’s an idea.” Emory nodded, pulling out her phone. Star didn’t pay it much mind, packing the fluffies into a bag she was holding. “Are we still meeting Shadow at the cliffs today?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure why he wanted to meet up there for a picnic dinner instead of coming home to something hot, but it seemed important to him.” She shrugged with a fond expression on his face. “Which reminds me, I need to pack the picnic basket.”

“What are we having?” Emory grinned as Star set the bag of fluffies down. While her sister was walking for the door of the greenhouse, she slipped the bag into one of the many bags strapped to her belt and jogged after her. 

“Hmm… I made that spinach and cheese quiche this morning. It’s good cold… devilled eggs don’t take too long to make, and I can do a fruit salad… and the strawberry and hazelnut tarts? How’s that sound?”

“You are a goddess among hedgehogs.”

“Not technically a hedgehog.”

“Ultimate lifeforms?”

“There’s only three of us, so I wouldn’t have much of a cult following.” Star smiled, getting the basket and starting to pack everything up. “Do you want lemonade or Chaos Cola?”

“What are you packing for you and Shadow?”

“Iced coffee.” 

Emory rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Of course. Lemonade, please.” 

Star hummed under her breath as she packed everything up and folded their picnic blanket on top. They usually did a picnic at least one day during the weekend during warm weather, since they’d moved into the house together. It had been almost a year now, and she kept catching herself thinking that this might actually be perfect. She had her best friend/sister and the love of her life, all together in a community full of friends. She was happy, happier than she’d ever been before. The age-old lingering grief had faded with Maria’s reincarnation,  her lifetime of self doubt about being Black Arms dissipated in Black Doom’s defeat. The future was an open book. It would change, but what mattered was her choices and the happiness she shared with the people that mattered. 

“Everything’s ready, and it’s almost sundown. You ready?” Emory grinned. 

Star nodded and they headed out, taking off at a run. Emory had been training with them, a more patient curriculum than the one they’d had on the ARK, but had found talents in line with their own. Her version of Starburst was brighter, Shadow calling it a Solar Flare instead. Her speed matched theirs, she could warp as they did, and with an Emerald she could open a bizarre Chaos Portal to any point she could think up. It made for a quick commute to school if she was running late, though she called having to ask Shadow for the Emerald they kept at the house “a walk of shame.” 

The cliffside Shadow had picked for the evening was one they’d come up to several times. It was a great place to watch the sunset, and had a couple park benches and a drive up to the edge where he’d brought Star on date night on the motorcycle, back when she’d lived in the apartment. They still sometimes stopped there on the way home from weekly dinners with the rest of the family, to look at the broken moon hanging overhead. 

He was already sitting on the bench closest to the edge, looking out over the water lapping at the shore when they arrived. He looked distracted, fiddling with something in his hands and looking off in the distance. 

“Hey, we’re here!” Emory called out, and he quickly tucked whatever he was holding into his wrist bracer before getting up. 

Star smiled happily as he came over to them, starting to unfold the blanket. “Have a good day, love?” He’d been out since early morning, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek on his way out the door. She had no idea what he was up to, but she figured it was probably with Rouge or Sonic. 

He nodded, grabbing the other end and helping her lay the blanket out. “Did you?”

“Emory and I spent most of the afternoon in the greenhouse. The lilies are putting out weird seeds.” She nodded back, sitting down and starting to pass out food from the basket. “I guess the Chaos mutations affected every part of the plants, but I’ve been trying to catalogue them all.” 

Shadow smiled over her shoulder at Emory while Star talked, the blonde hedgehog winking. They’d been texting back and forth all day about this, Emory keeping Star busy while Shadow got his last details sorted out…now everything was in motion and he was getting to sit back and enjoy listening to her talk for a few minutes before the next step. 

They ate dinner while she talked about the different flower mutations and her trip to the farmer’s market that morning. “Maybe this summer we can get everyone together and go berry picking? I think it’ll be fun.” She mused. “Cream and Charmy would probably eat as much as they picked, but that’s alright.” 

“Going to make something with all those berries?” Emory teased. 

“Shortcake. Maybe jam.” Star smiled thoughtfully. “I think it would be fun to sell little mini-jars at the cafe, but I’ll have to ask Mom about it.” 

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” Emory chuckled. They were just finishing up the meal as the sunset rippled into pinks and purples over the water. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Star nodded, pulling her knees up as she admired the view. “It’s everything you told us it would be.” 

Shadow got to his feet. “Come with me for a minute, Starshine. I want to show you something.” 

Emory gave her a little nudge. “I’ll pack up the dishes. Go on, I’ll catch up.” 

Star gave her an appreciative little pat on the arm before taking Shadow’s hand and letting him pull her to her feet. He took her over to the cliff edge, so they could see where the sun sank into the sea on the horizon. It left liquid gold dancing across the surface, while the sky dimmed and the stars came into view. “Sometimes I can’t believe I washed up on a beach like this.” She breathed, hands behind her back. “I had no idea how happy I would end up being.” 

Shadow smiled, starting his usual orbit around her while he thought of what to say. Star just watched him from her peripheral vision, a happy little purr escaping her. She didn’t know if he knew what she did about the circling, and she didn’t want to make it a big deal if he didn’t, but it made her happy whenever he did it. His subconscious, his instincts, were telling her he loved her without words. He seemed to be searching for something to say as he circled, so she waited patiently. “Starshine…” He finally murmured, coming up on her right. 

She turned her head, bright eyed and happy. “Yes, love?”

He was reaching for her hand when his red eyes darted over her shoulder, a frown snapping to his face. “What-?”

Before she could turn to see what he was looking at, she felt a hand latch onto her upper left arm. It snatched her off her feet and backwards, into a rippling dark portal outlined with glowing electric blue. “Shadow!” She yelped, trying to reach back for him.

“Star!” She could hear Shadow’s voice, and Emory’s in the background, yelling for her until the portal closed.

Then everything went dark.

“Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.” A soft voice was saying, and Star’s world was rocking back and forth like she was on a ship. She groaned, pressing a hand to her aching head. She was laying on her back on the ground, someone shaking her shoulders. “C’mon, please don’t be brain fried. I’m sure I calibrated the thing correctly…” 

Star cracked her eyes open and squinted. A male hedgehog was leaning over her, hands on her shoulders and peeking down at her with concern in his gold eyes. Star winced at the glaring light, but snapped her foot up and caught him in the chest. He went flying backwards and she scrabbled upright. “Who the hell are you?!” She demanded. “Where’s Shadow and Emory?!” 

The guy popped back up, rubbing the boot print she’d left on the fluffy patch of his chest that extended up the sides of his neck. He was light colored, so pale gray he almost looked metallic, with white chest fur. His ears peeks out from behind an almost starburst set of front quills, and he held his hands up immediately. “Easy! Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Star narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t explain what’s going on, I’m going to hurt you.”

He squirmed, keeping both hands where she could see them. “I’d really rather you not. My name’s Silver, and this used to be Mystic Ruins… now it’s just mostly ruins…” 

Star frowned, glancing around. He had a point, the entire area as far as she could see was concrete and metal rubble, with broken glass and exposed rebar sitting like a silent threat. No matter what direction she looked, she didn’t see a scrap of plant life. No trees, no grass, no flowers… “This can’t be Mystic Ruins. I live in Mystic Ruins… there’s flowers, and beaches…” 

Silver rubbed the back of his neck, getting to his feet slowly. “There haven’t been any of those in about… five years.” 

Star’s brow furrowed. “Five years.. I haven’t even been out of GUN custody that long. What are you talking about?”

He picked up a small device that had fallen from the pocket of the jacket he was wearing. It was the same motocross style she preferred, with a yellow star on the back and blue rings on the palms of his gloves. When he held the little machine up, it looked a bit like an inhibitor ring. He pushed a button on the side and it unfolded, becoming big enough a Mobian could step through comfortably. In his other hand was what looked like a smartphone, but Star knew well enough that it couldn’t be that simple. “This is a time portal. I pulled you from your Mystic Ruins, into the future.”

“The future?” Star gasped. “How far in the future?!”

“Based on when I pulled you from… about two hundred years.” He grinned sheepishly.

“Two hundred…” Star reeled, still sitting on the ground. “Two hundred years?” 

Silver collapsed the ring and pocketed both it and the controller. He approached her cautiously, keeping his hands where she could see them. “Don’t kick me again, please? Let’s go somewhere safer, it’s easy to get spotted by the bots.”

“Bots?” Star frowned, but took his hand when he offered it and let him pull her to her feet. When they got toe to toe, he was a half a head shorter than her. Star blinked. “... You’re barely bigger than Tails…”

“It’s a long story. Let’s talk as we walk, I’ll take you back to my house.” He waved for her to follow him, and pulled aside a sewer grate. “Ladies first?”

“At least you’re polite.” She sighed and climbed down. 

“My dad would lose his mind if I wasn’t.” Silver followed her a moment later, holding a hand up once he reached the bottom. His fingers glowed bluish, and the grate slid back into place above them. 

“You’re telekinetic too?” Star blinked. 

“Yeah… runs in the family.” He smiled sheepishly again. He seemed kind of shy and unsure of himself, but putting on a brave face. The more she watched his body language, hugging one arm around himself and glancing at his boots rather than looking her in the eye, the more she was convinced he wasn’t just short. 

He was a kid. 

“What happened to this place?” Star decided to tread lightly for now. 

Silver sighed heavily. “It started… six or seven years ago, I think. It used to be nice, robots and people working together. But someone or something made this… virus. It completely changed all of their personalities, made them all hostile to organic life. First they were attacking people, then they started destroying plants and animals. It’s gotten so bad that whole populations are starving now.” 

“And nothing can stop them?” Star frowned. Where were the heroes of this day and age? People like Sonic, Tails, Amy… hell, where was Shadow and her future self?!

“There was a Planetary Defense Force… it held them off decently for the first couple years, and was working on a reversal to the hijack programming… but then one of the major leaders went missing. That… affected the others, and the resistance started to crumble. There are still people fighting, but it’s hard with no organization, supplies, or standing bases.” Silver finally looked at her, gold eyes burning with the kind of determination Star recognized. The kind that had nothing to lose, that was desperate and tired and angry but holding on with claws dug in. “That’s why I brought you here. I need your help, or everything natural in this world is going to be destroyed.”

Star shook her head immediately. “That can’t happen. I’ll do what I can, but… why me?”

“The leader that went missing five years ago was you. Our version of you, General Star of the ARK. Once you vanished, everybody else fell apart. I thought, if I could find you in the past, you’d be the missing piece to fix things.” 

She paused, startled. “Me?”

Silver nodded. “Yeah… you went out on a patrol run and never came back.” He took a step to the left and stomped a pressure plate, opening a hidden door, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped. “This way.” 

Star frowned, following him into the hole in the wall. It led to a long tunnel that curved downward, into what Star thought she remembered being the cliffsides she’d been standing on when Silver had snatched her into the future. How ironic, she’d been thinking about how bright the future seemed today… now it was certainly bleak. “Where are we going?”

“My family’s house. It’s more like a hideout, since our real house got flattened in the fighting a couple years back. But we made it out okay.” He explained. When they got further down the tunnel, he had to use his telekinesis to hit two pressure plates at the same time he stood on a third. “Security reasons.” He smiled when Star raised an eyebrow. “Teeechnically we’re supposed to only leave the hideout in pairs. But nobody ever really follows that rule.” The door opened and he stepped in.

The base was a round hub with rooms coming off it it like spokes on a wheel. The central room was full of hanging plants growing off PVC lattice on the ceiling, with water dripping carefully down onto it. It reminded Star of the ARK greenhouse, though much more chaotic. Star frowned, examining the fruits and vegetables struggling to grow with the limited light from lamps strung up. A generator rumbled in the background to keep them all running. “Oh good.” Silver whispered. “It doesn’t look like anyone noticed I was gone.”

Star cocked an eyebrow. “How much trouble would you be in if anyone noticed?”

Before he could even open his mouth, a frazzled sounding voice yelled from another room. “SILVER ROBOTNIK NUBERRY THE HEDGEHOG!”

He winced. “... Full name? A lot.”

Star did a double take at the name. “Did she say Robotnik Nub-”

From the other room, a female hedgehog came stomping out. She had a set of welding goggles shoved up on top of her messy mane of half-braided hair, quills popping out everywhere. She was dressed in black lab boots and a tank top, a stained and ripped apron pulled over it. She had tools in one pocket, and what looked like gardening gear in the other, and her blonde fur was streaked with dirt and machine oil. “Where the hell have you been, Silver?! Do you have any idea how dang-” She froze when she saw Star. “... oh my-”

“Emory?” Star gasped. Her sister looked so worn down and exhausted, despite having not aged much beyond her mid twenties. 

“Star… y-you…” Emory stammered, stumbling forward and grabbing Star by the face. She brought her close, inspecting her face for a moment before shaking her head. “Y-you’re not… you’re not her. How did…? Let me see your shoes.”

Obligingly, Star stepped back and slipped off one of her boots, handing it over. Emory’s brows knitted together as she examined the snap on thruster heels. “.... These were before I fully integrated the design… model E-1. That’s from before the Black Arms invasion…” She wheeled on Silver, waving the boot threateningly at him. “That’s two hundred years in the past! Where’s my Time Portal prototype?! Did you use it?!”

“I can explain-”

“Oh, you’d better! Just you wait til you’re explaining it to your father! He’s supposed to be back any day now, and-”

“Your father?” Star blinked, reaching for her boot before Emory could bonk poor Silver in the head with it. There was the beginnings of a tiny smile on her face as she watched the scene. It was making sense. The silver hedgehog was a child. Emory’s child, with some lucky guy who’d managed to survive the apocalypse with her and Shadow who had to be around here somewhere. Silver was her nephew! 

SIlver grumbled back at Emory, though he took a step back to a safe distance. “He’ll be back for exactly however long it takes you to patch up whatever’s wrong with him this time and fill up a supply bag again, and then he’ll be gone for another couple months. He won’t care.”

“That’s not true, Silver.” Emory sighed, straightening up. All the fight seemed to go out of her and she leaned back against the wall. “He loves you and you know it. He’s been trying to protect you since our Star vanished… no offense, past Star.”

“None taken.” Star looked at Silver, hopping on one foot as she put her boot back on. “How old are you, anyway?” 

“Old enough to be doing something. I can’t just sit in the house while the world falls apart and not at least try to fix it!” He protested, puffing his chest out as best he could and trying to look grown.

She crossed her arms. “Not what I asked.”

“... thirteen.” He deflated a little at the look on her face. 

Star scowled, expression going melancholy and dark as she looked at Emory. Thirteen… the age she’d been when she’d died as Maria. “You’re a child.”

“I am not!” He snapped. 

“Watch your mouth.” Emory said sternly, all of her once carefree brightness seeming to have dimmed. “I know you want to help, but you don’t understand what it would cost me or your father to lose you. We’ve already lost Star. No more sneaking out, and no more playing around with prototypes from my lab. Something could blow up in your face.” 

He looked like he was seething, hands shaking at his sides. “So that’s it? We just hide and give up until there’s nothing left? I can’t do that, and you shouldn’t either!” 

Star put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy.” She tried to make her voice as soft as Regina’s was with her when she’d been new to the family and terrified of everything. “I’m here to help, and you got me here. Right?”

He nodded, deflating again. She could tell he was trying so hard to be grown, and it broke her heart. He was just a child, he shouldn’t have had all this on his shoulders. “I just… don’t want it to stay like this forever. I remember what it was like before. It could be like that again.” 

Star smiled. “Then we’ll do it.” Her eyes lifted to Emory, trying to give her a little bit of hope when her sister looked so tired. The years hadn’t been kind, it seemed. “Where’s Shadow? The three of us could always pull off anything.”

“We never know when Dad’s coming back.” Silver sighed. “He just… shows up, then vanishes again.”

“Dad?” Star’s stomach lurched and she looked at Emory, eyes starting to sting. “Shadow’s his father?”

Emory blinked. “Well, yeah. Who else?” 

Star couldn’t breathe. The weight of the planet sat on her chest, her jaw trembling as she looked between Emory and Silver. Her sister, her best friend in the universe, had ended up with the love of her life? Shadow was going to leave her for Emory one day? The betrayal felt like a knife twisted into her back, and left more questions than answers. How could they do this to her, when she knew they loved her in her time? What had changed? Why had future Star stayed so long? Had she really vanished five years ago, or left intentionally because she couldn’t take watching her heartbreak play out around her? 

And did past Star really want to save a world she had no part or purpose in? 

“Star?” Emory was talking, but the words sounded muffled by the pulse roaring in her ears. She couldn’t think of anything but that Silver was Shadow’s son, and she didn’t understand this future, and she still couldn’t breathe. 

When Silver looked at her, concern furrowing his brow, she couldn’t take it. She closed her eyes, feeling tears finally overflow her cheeks, and warped. She didn’t know where she’d end up, nor did she care. 

Anywhere but here. Anything but this.

[dirtyvulture]

😎 sorry the last post I was working on sent prematurely and it had odd keyboard smashes at the end. Here is me finishing what I was saying before my phone glitched with key board smashing and sending something before it was ready. I am PISSED about this , not really more annoyed.

I was talking about R and her having “ fun” with fellow nurses, military personnel and local civilians of at least 21 years of age. As stated before R is a cuddler after wards . I also see her as a top and she will not stop until she is told to / safe worded or the person R is with is passing out/ passes out. And depending on if the weather is hot or cold out the person that R is with ( or if R is just cuddling platonically or with her daughter Rogue like I was talking about before) they might really appreciate the body heat or dreads it . If a person over heats then all they have to say is “ Hey let go” or tap R’s arm three times as a sign of “ tapping out”.

The last few thoughts. I think that R not being as enthusiastic about hugging storm could be a few reasons. It could because R had a alot going on in her mind , R could also just need to be the one to initiate physical contact to be completely comfortable with it , or R hasn’t completely warmed up to Storm yet .

Now on to R being physically affectionate with her adoptive daughter Rogue, they both don’t admit it but they love when the other is affectionate. R always makes sure that she doesn’t touch Rogue  directly ( even though R won’t care about that because if her child needs her than there isn’t anything R wouldn’t do for Rouge) . But when R brought Rogue into the school it was winter and cold much like now with Nat being brought in ( except Nat isn’t very daughter like to Wolvie ) and so to keep Rogue from freezing to death R held onto her and give her R’s body heat. Later on R would hold Rogue as she settled into the school and helped her feel safe and at ease ( baring the one move  reference incident of R accidentally stabbing Rogue because of a nightmare. One R still hates herself for and still hasn’t forgiven herself for) . Now with all their walls down ( both Wolvie and Rogues) both are open just to being physically affectionate and cuddly with each other ( as mother and daughter, again either admit that is how they see the other) .

I believe that while on the ran and in sharing shoddy motels or accommodations ( Vulture you even said it yourself that they shared a bed ) that Nat was freezing and R offered to be Nat’s personal heater or Nat insisted that R wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch, floor or whatever else and R ended up being Nat’s personal heater anyways. In R’s head that is all that was , just trying to keep Nat from freezing to death or that was all R was good for then….. being a personal heater for someone kind enough not to want R to Fuck up her back and be semi comfortable sleeping.

Maybe Nat was thinking something else then and maybe she wants more than just that heat function from R when she holds Nat . Maybe R wants to hold Nat again too. 👀👀👀

I will leave with these last few thoughts. R when she was that sick Victorian child was the exact opposite of being a walking furnace , she was cold as a corpse or a block of ice . That was until she was sick, then she would be burning up like a furnace and that was how they always could tell when R was sick. I believe in all media Wolvie was sick the night of Thomas Logan breaking into the estate ( at least movie Wolverine was) and who is to say that our Wolvie wasn’t that night as well. She went to bed that night sick and burning up like a furnace and then her mutation hit and was forced on the run. R was never sick or cold as ice again after that night.

I forgot you had already sent this so you might have answered some questions I had in your previous ask in this one

Very interesting you see R as a top. 👀 I can see her going both ways. But depending on her partner, she would definitely prefer to be on the bottom because her sheer bodyweight could crush someone if she's not careful 😭 (I'm certain her bed in the X-Mansion is reinforced for these reasons)

R did initiate the hug to Professor X though, but I think it's because she really looks up to him as a father figure. Storm was almost too excited to see her back, and R was nervous to see everyone again (especially with the circumstances) and caught off guard by the affection.

Funny that you mention Rogue because I just finished writing her introduction scene with R :)

I'm not sure if R was Nat's heater just yet...I imagine she wanted to keep her distance in the beginning, and especially didn't want to have a nightmare and accidentally hurt Nat. (But yes, I think Nat will eventually want all the cuddles and more from R)

[glowingvenus]

@seafucker took the bait and asked me to write 10 paragraphs about NATURE's song GIRLS so I can do nothing but oblige...

this was the song that inspired me to start my song of the day playlist which has now been going for 1,212 days (i'm normal.) sometimes a song is just so special and resonates so strongly that it sets you on a path of musical obsession.

to talk about the musical aspects first - the way that the tropical house sound, which was so popular in the early 4th gen, gets twisted, distorted and repurposed into something dark and ominous. that sweeping synth that runs like a razor blade again and again over everything. even the opening notes give you the feeling of strapping yourself into a haunted house ride, about to turn the corner and drop into something horrific...

but what really makes me crazy about this song is the way that it feels like the songwriters reached into my mind and pulled out all the themes, all the feelings that i've been most fascinated with creatively throughout my life. the concepts of virginity, love and sex as horror are expressed so elegantly here with so few words. (yes even "hot like chilly chilly," i'll get to that LOL.)

the feeling of being inexperienced in love and sex - whether you're young, or you're older but you feel young because of that - is terrifying. it can mutate into such a dark and twisted thing where you feel childish and stupid trying to even approach someone that you desire, because you don't know anything. and you might find yourself wishing that they would use you, hurt you, take advantage of you, just to break the seal and take away the childish innocence that weighs so heavily upon you.

so in this song we have a protagonist who feels that she's in love with someone, a person who has haunted her for a long time - she's built up this obsession in her mind, and she wants the person to just notice so that she doesn't have to make the first move (which will surely be fumbling and embarrassing, and make them hate her.) and because the person doesn't notice, or doesn't care, the love becomes laced with resentment.

regardless of her actual age, "before love" (as in, in front of love) she's just "a girl" - and the word used is 어린애, which means girl as in - child. she's standing before this thing that's supposed to be romantic and beautiful, and it's facing her down like a dark tower, and she feels lost and scared.

she asks, "can’t you accept this love, even if it’s childish?" after all, "tonight is the last night" - it's a desperate plea, she's waited as long as she can and she's willing to give up everything at this point, even if it tears her apart.

the lyrics of the song are very sparse, but what lyrics there are are dragged out - single-syllable words are sung with multiple notes, in a way that you really don't see often in kpop songs. and this gives such an incredible weight to certain words, like in the prechorus - "순진했던" - the word for "to be innocent/naive" in past tense, so "(something that was) innocent/naive" - and then when we hit the chorus, we finally hear the next word - "난" (I/me.) this gives it the effect of a painful confession; every word is dragged out of the protagonist as she confesses her awkward, shameful desire.

in the postchorus, "내 모습 우스워져" is typically translated as "I feel so ridiculous" but I think there's a lot more to it than that. "모습" literally translates to figure or shape - as in, the entirety of me, what you see when you look at me. and "우스워져" isn't just ridiculous - it's laughable, it's worthy of mockery. she's saying that this feeling of love is making her into something laughable, disgusting. and i think that anyone who's ever been in love and felt that it was unrequited, or hopeless, can relate to that. being loved back? what a joke. look at you.

"my heart is really really/hot like chilly chilly" so it's NOT chili as in a chili pepper, lol, but the hot and cold feeling of fear. terror. these warm feelings toward someone are supposed to be positive and beautiful, but with all this baggage and self-loathing behind them, they become something that puts you in a cold sweat.

the music video is amazing as well, although i don't consider it part of what makes me so obsessed with this song, but - the white dresses that gradually become soaked in blood? the imagery of violence, of stabbing, cut in with the claustrophobic maze-like set and the girls softly holding each other? the lesbian overtones? yep. that's what i would have gone for too. because again, what i hear in these lyrics is really a craving for violent love, violation, loss of innocence.

from a closeted lesbian perspective: you might not understand why you want love so badly yet the idea of being with a boy terrifies you in so many ways. you might think that this is just what desire is, and that it's terrifying for everyone and you have to just rip off the bandaid and let someone hurt you if you don't understand how to do it naturally. or even if you're not closeted, it can be just as scary to enter the world of adult desire feeling like you don't know what you're doing, like you're the only one who's inexperienced, stupid and ugly. so that's what i hear in this song. a beautiful masterpiece.

[sheepasture]

work week text dump

i have sys thoughts. mostly unpolished but ideas ive been mulling about and i really am working towards having most writing here

Cha-Cha-Changes

- Carmen's situationship is CB. CB is looking for a white beast and Carmen sure does fit the bill. Also, CB looks a lot like Fia. - Carmen and Fia both can have fire. They will have a more combative relationship. Fighting fire with fire. More like cold flame and hot water. - CB was originally stolen by the church due to being an actual capricorn. Ran away around the time Fia popped into the orphanage and they decided to roll with it

-Make everyone heraldic beasts instead. 

- Lambda is either a stunted/polled sheep. She uses horns from other since she feels like a blight on her family. Maybe even goes through graveyards? Maybe when Lambdas are deceased their horns are removed (to better fit caskets) and are hung on a wall.

- Balwen Welsh Mountain Sheep looks like a border collie. Moonshine could have been adopted by a sheep family who lost their child and is now protective of sheep. Probably is into the culture and larps online as a sheep (weirdo).

- Alternative creature, Heiðrún Heidrun for Fia. Nanny goat that eats plants and gives off milk

- The Yale for Bicorne and the Musimon for CB

- Carmen can be a dragon wolf. Yeah. 

- Inkbath is a Biche scene.

-By coincidence only, it might be Carfia, CBmen and Fiamium. 

-Crescent has navis soldiers like the World Salvation Committe. But also has their own mini bear clones.

-32 Degrees has 3 modes. Fahrenheit is white (32 F is freezing), Celsius is brown (warm weather) and Kelvin is the mutated form.

- The Cambium Casino (main hall), The Bark (The main bar, has seasonal names), The Crown Clubhouse (for public rich), Heartwood (Captain's Quarters) Aril Yew (for private rich), Ash & Yew (private contractors) - As per the Corne Agreement (do whatever you want as long as there is no paperwork to deal with) Navis sometimes takes jobs under Ash&Yew

- Yggdrasil Logistics is just Nona. It's a fancy company Bicorne made just for her. Technically Nona does take temps when she wants help through the Navis - The Navis are NOT cops or law enforcement, although they sometimes act like it. The Navis is simply a "clean cun" sailor aesthetic pirate group. It is run by Crescent and the pirates wear a more naval look. The Navis is considered the pirate group that led the current piratocracy. What they do not have in authority they have in respect, which is why they may have an enforcement vibe to them. But no, the Navis is just a group of free range pirates that do their diligence to keep peace and freedom. They do act rather gang like on cruise and pleasure ships though. 

- The only magical being is the godlite of wishes, the Millennium Star Ambrosia. Instead of giving people magic they will have magical items originally lost to the tide. This gives Bicorne a cool challenge of not documenting people (weird) but items that can be obtained and kept. This increases group strength. (Millennium Items sound like Yu Gi Oh). In order to nerf them its either 1000 items with 1 year each, 100 items with 10 years each, or 10 items with 100 years each. Personally I'm leaning towards 10 items because it is fewer of them and more to fight over.

- Items so far: The Lighter (Dante's Flask), The Pistols (Fraudulent Charge & Halflife), The Mask (The Facade), The Deck (Quickdraw)

Carmen long hair and then cuts it

- Carmen gets The Facade, and she has a pretend identity as 32 Degrees the Arctic Hare

- Nona's old family isn't relative to the plot, however the trees of the ship are. It shows that, through the forest that was pillaged to make these ships of modern day Noveaurth, the ships are Nona's birthright because the timber belongs to her family.

- In dream, we had Bicorne leave a love interest who eventually is forgotten as Bicorne moves on. Debate on is Bicorne should come back and realize what they've left behind even besides Lambda. Preferably wanted it to be someone from the main cast but that is impossible since the whole deal is Bicorne left them behind. (Perhaps Crescent human form actually?)

- Past connections: Yule is one of the friends Carmen was willing to disown her family for. Copium, Fia and Nona were all in the orphanage (at different times). CB was initially prepared to be the Saint but ran away, leading them to pick up Fia. Moonshine knows of Lambda from college days. Carmen and Tungsten are related and thats why Tung is Carmen's nepo hire. Chichevache used to be a high ranking officer of the Navis and thats a big reason why she wears her mask.

[julek]

“Please,” Geralt murmurs, because he learned long ago that he’s simply not above begging, “come to bed.”

Jaskier lifts an eyebrow from the tub where he’s luxuriously and slowly sinking downwards, his nose resting above the surface of the water, only because he needs to breathe — otherwise, he would have already melted into the decadent mixture of orangeseed oil and warm water. “I’m taking a bath.”

Geralt frowns and makes a not-so-necessary effort to pout. “‘M cold.”

“Witchers run hot,” Jaskier says, matter-of-factly, and it’s infuriating, how blatantly he is enjoying this.

Witchers do run hot, but Geralt, apparently, is also not above lying to get what he wants. He’s splayed on his back on the — for once — rather spacious bed, mattress filled with sheepwool instead of straw, comfortable and soft against his skin. The blankets aren’t scratchy, but warm and well-lived, a faded shade of maroon Jaskier would love to nitpick if he would stop being an arse and just get in bed.

“I don’t.” His lie is muffled by the pillow he’s mushed his face into. “The, uh... mutagens... fucked that up. No thermal regulation for me.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier says, inspecting his already clean nails — because they’ve been clean for ages and he just wants to make Geralt suffer — and shaking his head, relaxing back into the tub. Geralt can tell he’s wiggling his toes, like he does when he’s feeling extremely pleased. “You’ll survive.”

The thing is, there’s little Geralt wants in life. For a long time, it’d been a short list of needs — food for Roach, a roof over his head, enough coin to get by. It worked, most times. Or it did, until a not-so-humble bard found his way into his Path and, slowly and patiently, into his heart, and suddenly Geralt found himself wanting. And his bard found himself wanting, too, and, for the first time in his life, Geralt got what he wanted — to be loved by Jaskier.

Which is why, even though he’s an imposing Witcher who could make a flower wilt with a simple stare, he finds himself grumbling against the cream-colored sheets, tossing and turning and on the verge of throwing a tantrum like a five-year-old.

“You know,” Jaskier says, amusement clear in his voice, “for a Witcher who claims to be so meticulous and impassive, you do not possess the virtue of patience, my dear.”

Geralt grumbles under his breath, and it scares him how much he sounds like Vesemir. Maybe he is getting old, after all.

“I just—”

“Yes?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh, but how will I know what you mean, then? The secrets of divination have yet to reveal themselves to me.”

Geralt scrunches up his nose twice before answering, half-embarrassed. “I missed you.”

“You saw me all day,” Jaskier says softly, a hint of fondness breaching the rippling sounds of the water.

Geralt sits up against the headboard, his head hitting the wall with a thud. “There were too many people around— it was too much. Couldn’t focus.”

Jaskier purses his lips and finally, finally stands up from the tub, water dripping from his body as he towels himself dry. “It’s unfair, you know,” he muses, shaking his head, “for you to be this lovely and endearing while I’m having a bath. So inconsiderate.”

Geralt tries to suppress a smile. “But it works.”

“Hm, yes, it works.” Jaskier puts on a pair of fresh underclothes and runs his fingers through the wet strands of his hair, gathering it at his crown and into a lazy bun with one of Geralt’s hair ties. It’s gotten long and unruly, and Geralt loves it. “Now make some room.”

Geralt moves back to his side, pleased, and lifts the blankets for Jaskier to get in. He smells clean, the subtle scent of his soap and oils fresh on his skin, and he presses himself against Geralt’s side with a satisfied sigh. “Witcher mutations, my ass,” he mumbles. “You’re warmer than the sun right now.”

Geralt snorts. “That’s a lazy metaphor, even for you.”

“Yes, well,” Jaskier says as he presses his feet to Geralt’s calves, “I’ve been lured into a warm bed by a warm Witcher, whose powers of persuasion are too strong for a mere mortal to resist.”

“Hmm.” Geralt watches as Jaskier traces circles on his chest, fingers catching on his medallion as he goes. The candlelight softens his features, cheeks rosy from the bath and eyes almost unbearably blue. “And here I thought you’d abandoned me to my fate and left me for a lukewarm bath.”

Jaskier’s lips break into a grin. “I would never, ever,” he says, face serious, “bathe in lukewarm water.”

Geralt tugs on his hair for good measure, before pulling him into his arms and kissing his frown away. “I did miss you,” he admits quietly.

“I’m here,” Jaskier whispers and looks up at him, his lips a breath away.

Geralt kisses his face, pressing small kisses to his cheeks and his lips and pulling back when Jaskier starts laughing. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?” Jaskier asks with a laugh.

“You love it,” Geralt teases, entwining their legs and kissing him some more, just because he can.

Jaskier smiles, his eyes twinkling. “I do.”