#just straight up floof

[giggly-squiggily]

Helloooooooooo! Can I request lee!Itadori and ler!Gojo? Perhaps poor poor yuuuji is having a bad day and Gojo just has to cheer him up cuz he is his dear dear student??

Thank youuuuu^^ (Your fics are AWESOME btw)

Oo, I love this!!! I haven't written enough JJK here on my blog! I've gotcha covered, anon! :D (Thank you so much! I appreciate it!)

It was a strange day when the team’s sunshine was down and out.

Yuji Itadori- a walking ball of energetic sunshine- was uncharacteristically quiet. He didn’t talk much, only answering questions with simple replies, and his few rare smiles were ghostly and heavy.

“Did something happen?” Gojo asked as the day went on, growing increasingly worried for his student. He figured he woke up on the wrong side of the bed and would bounce back after breakfast, but he only seemed to wilt further as the day went on.

“I don’t know- I tried everything I could think of to get him happy again, but nothing worked.” Nobara shook her head in defeat, folding her arms in thought. “Maybe he got bad news?”

“Not likely- it would have to go through me before it goes to him.” Gojo hummed. “Got his heart broken?”

“Hasn’t been on any recent dates. Anniversary of his grandfather’s death?”

“Nope- that was a few months ago.” Gojo tilted his head, tapping his chin. “Did he get into a fight with Megumi?”

“Who’d I fight?” Said boy asked as he walked up. After a quick briefing, he was just as confused. “Maybe he’s just having a bad day. We all get those once and awhile.”

“Yeah but…it’s weird, seeing him so down.” Nobara tightened her arms around herself, brows furrowing. “If I knew what was wrong, I could fix it.”

“I don’t think there’s a straw doll technique that could.” Megumi shrugged, earning a light glare from the girl. Gojo on the other hand looked suddenly thoughtful.

“Maybe not a curse technique, but…” He grinned. “I think I know what to do.”

~~~

Yuji was laying in his bed when Gojo appeared, halfheartedly reading a volume of Chainsaw Man. His headphones were in, soft music blocking out the world around him. To anyone else, it’d be a clear sign he wanted to be left alone.

For Gojo however, it was an invitation to strike.

Putting his skills to work, he placed himself on Yuji’s bed, hovering over the younger sorcerer with an easy grin. Then he leaned in so his nose was hovering over the manga, waiting for Yuji to notice him.

The younger boy let out a low sigh as he went to turn the page, eyes flicking upward at Gojo. Silence. Then-

“AH!” Yuji squawked, manga tumbling out of hand and headphones flying off his ears as he scooted back on the bed, staring at his teacher. “G-Gojo sensei! What- how- when-”

“Who, where, why?” Gojo finished, closing the discarded manga and tossing it on the nearby table. “That’s what I’d like to know. First of all: How are you?”

“I uh…” Yuji’s shock faded some, that sad look from earlier returning. “I’m fine. Just…”

“Moping in your room, reading manga and pretending the world doesn’t exist?” Gojo asked, pushing Yuji down by his shoulder. “Relatable, but we can’t have that now, can we?”

“G-Gojo-sensei? What are you-” Yuji began, lips flattening and eyes widening when a finger wiggled into his armpit. He squeezed his arm tightly against his torso, trying to block out the invasive finger. “N-No! No do-don’t!”

“Oh? Why not?” Gojo teased, motivated by the wobbly smile on Yuji’s lips. He added a second finger, a third, and before long he had pushed his entire hand into Yuji’s armpit, clawing gently and earning even more struggles from the other. “Is someone ticklish?”

“Yo-You alreahahdy know thahahhat!” Yuji tried to argue, giggles pushing past his lips as he squirmed. This was NOT how he planned on spending the rest of his “Mope hours”! “Goohohohohjo, wahahahhait!”

“No way- you’re still sad! I won’t stop until you’re happy again!” Gojo shot his other hand into Yuji’s pit, earning an arch and a squeal. With that, he was laughing, twisting about on the bed as he tried getting away from Gojo’s tickly fingers. “Come on, let me see you smiling!”

“Nohoohohohoho! I wahahhahant to mohohohohohope!” He cried, cheeks pink and eyes squeezed shut with mirth. “Lehehehhehet me behehehehehehehhee!”

Gojo’s response was to drop a hand to his belly, drilling into the center and making Yuji shriek. He went to shove his hand away, but that only opened his armpits up further for more tickling. ‘Coohohohohohohome ohohohohohon, this ihihihiihihisn’t fahhahahahhahair!”

“All is fair in a tickle war!” Gojo chimed, stretching his fingers back further so he could prod the back of Yuji’s ribs, earning a snort. “Gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“AHEHAHHAHAHA! FIIHIHIHINE, FIIHHIIHIHNE!”

“Promise?”

“YEEHEHHEHEHS!”

“Reeaaallly promise?’

“GOHOHOOHOHJO!”

“....You sure?”

“I PROHOOHOMIHIHIHISE NOW STAHHAHAHAP!” Yuji cried, gasping for air when the tickling came to an end. “Ehehehehe..hehehehhe…yohohohoohu’re ehehhehevil!”

“Mmhmm! The evilest sensei you’ve ever had!” Gojo skittered his fingers over Yuji’s belly before climbing off him, flopping at the end of the bed with a grin. “So, what’s going on, sunshine?”

“Ehehe!” Yuji spasmed, giggling. With a wave, he sat up , crossing his legs as he caught his breath. “Heh…I’m fine, really.” At Gojo’s raised brow, Yuji pushed on. “No, for real. I just…I had a rough night.”

“Nightmare?” Gojo asked, watching Yuji nod. “Wanna talk about it?”

“....No, not really.” Yuji shook his head, looking up with a small but genuine smile. “I’m feeling better- I don’t want to go back to that right now.”

“Fair enough.” Gojo nodded, reaching out and patting Yuji’s leg. “If you ever need to talk though- you know where I am.”

“Thanks, Gojo.” Yuji’s smile grew, as did Gojo’s.

“Anytime. Hey- let’s go get food with the gang. My treat.” Gojo stood, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I heard there’s this new place that opened up; they sell gyoza. Hungry?”

Almost on cue, Yuji’s stomach growled, making them laugh. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Thanks for reading!

[a-leg-without-fear]

No Fucking Way (pt.2)

and here's part two!!! thank you all SO MUCH for the support you've shown my writing. giving @sukinix a tag because they asked to be notified when this drops. love y'all!!

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 6.8k

Warnings: cursing, PTSD struggles, panic attack mention, and even more adorableness

Series: No Fucking Way

“I want you to name him,” you repeated. Logan stepped a pace away from you, hands raising in surrender.

“No. No fucking way,” he said. You flicked water at him as you finished rinsing off the soapy kitten below you. Logan scoffed at your reaction, moving around you to sit on the lip of the tub, “I ain’t naming a cat that’s not mine.”

“Who’s to say the cat isn’t yours?” you teased. You reached behind you and grabbed a fluffy, green towel from a hook screwed into the wall. Drying your hands, you turned off the faucet and inspected your work on the absolutely drenched kitten huddled in the sink. Blue eyes still squinted, large ears pointing straight up, gray and white fur plastered in one smooth ball around its little body.

“I say it’s not. I don’t want a cat,” Logan said. You gave him a look that said sure you don’t over your shoulder as you scooped the cat in the towel. The little purr factory was sure to bore holes in the towel with the strength of the buzzing. It nuzzled its little head against the towel in an attempt to get water out of its ears.

“Even one as cute as this fluffy guy?” you asked, attempting to reason with the forever-grumpy man sitting on the tub. He ran his fingers through his ruffled hair then placed both hands on his knees.

“How can I tell if he’s fluffy? He’s fucking soaked, doll,” Logan replied. 

You sighed, eyes rolling up to the white ceiling. Sure, you loved Logan. You loved him more than life itself. But Christ could he get on your nerves.

“Your understanding of physics never ceases to amaze me, darling,” you said in a singsong manner. A humorless laugh barked from Logan’s chest. The cat looked over to him, eyes widening slightly at the sudden noise, ears perked forward.

“What’re you lookin’ at, cat?” Logan asked. His question was answered with a small “mrraow?” from the now mostly damp kitten. He scoffed at the small creature, “Now it’s sassing me.”

“He’ll sass you less if you give him a name,” you said. A rough grumble echoed in the tub as Logan stood. Boots clacked across the tiled floor as he moved to stand next to you again.

“Alright, you know what? You said he’s fluffy, so that’s his name. Floof,” Logan said. You arched an eyebrow at him, the kitten looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

“...Floof? Really?” you asked. Logan huffed and threw his hands up in frustration.

“You don’t like the name, change it!”

“No, no. I like it. Just didn’t expect that to come from you,” you said, giggles building in your chest. 

Logan glared at you, grumbled “whatever,” then stormed out of the bathroom. The kitten, or Floof, watched him leave. His gray and white fur was getting more fluffy the more you dried him with the towel. You assessed the cat in your hands.

“Floof. Yeah, I like it. How about you?” you asked. Blue eyes blinked up at you. 

“Maaoww.”

“Good.”

~~~~1 week later~~~~

It was no surprise that Floof became the favorite among students. Whenever the kitten walked into a room, the children would immediately flock to the furball and give it so much love, the professors started complaining about lack of focus within the student body.

Cat trees and scratching posts were a permanent fixture in nearly every room, felt obstacle courses adorned some of the common areas’ walls, there were even pots of cat grass growing in Charles’s study. Floof was free to wander into any part of the mansion, so the students had adapted to looking at the floor whenever they walked to and from class, not wanting to step on the six-week-old kitten.

The only person throughout the entire mansion who hadn’t taken a shine to the newest member was Logan. Of course it was. Mr.Grouchy hated fun, as you knew.

It didn’t help matters that whenever he would style his hair, you would compare his hair tufts to Floof’s ears. You even went so far as to take pictures of both Logan and Floof, without Logan knowing, and edited them to be side by side so you could show Logan the likeness. That had earned you an irritated “they’re not cat ears!” and the cold shoulder for a few hours.

“You look like his dad, Lo,” you said through a fit of giggles. Logan sat in one of the leather armchairs of this particular sitting room. Lit cigar clutched in his left hand, right hand raised to push away Floof should the cat get too close, ankle crossed over his thigh.

“I’m not his fucking dad. I don’t have a cat,” Logan groused, scooping up Floof by the stomach from the armrest and placing the kitten back on the floor. The movement was met with an indignant “mooaaoow!”

“Uh huh. Yes dear,” you replied. You sat across from Logan, and the rather persistent cat, on the green-clothed couch. Shelves with a smattering of books lined the walls not overtaken by huge, bay windows. Streams of midday sun lit up the room. The only other person in this common area was Via, a pink sweater-wearing mutant with telekinesis and telepathy. She sat on one of the benches affixed to the bay windows. 

“Don’t ‘yes dear’ me,” Logan said. He lifted the cigar to his mouth and took a puff. Smoke curled around his head like a gray halo dispersed in the sun’s rays.

The bell around Floof’s neck jingled as the cat jumped onto the armrest again. Tiny, gray paws patted on Logan’s elbow. Logan huffed, grabbing the cat around the middle and setting him back on the floor. You watched the two over the mug you held in your hands.

“Cats are more attracted to people who don’t like them,” you mused, taking a sip of your coffee. Logan grunted in response. He pulled on the blue flannel he wore over his tank top. Floof paced back and forth by Logan’s foot.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Logan asked. He gently tapped Floof with the toe of his boot to push the cat further away. Another “maow!” met the action.

“Letting them make the first move instead of forcing affection makes them feel independent,” you explained. The gray fluffball sat in front of Logan, tail wrapped around its feet, and stared up at him. Logan glanced between you and Floof, a frown set deep in his face.

“But he likes the kids, and they’re grabbing at him all the time,” he argued. You snorted a laugh at Logan trying to reason with you. You set your mug down on its coaster and leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees.

“He’s a strange one. Maybe that’s why he likes you so much. You’re exactly alike,” you said, a mischievous smile growing across your lips. Logan took another drag from his cigar.

“We’re not exactly alike,” he said, blowing out a stream of smoke. 

You glanced up at the pointed hairstyle that Logan wore everyday. Two, dark, styled points on the sides of his head that faded into sideburns on his cheeks. You looked back down at Floof. His ears twitched as he took in the sounds all over the mansion. Two points on the sides of his head. You met Logan’s eyes again, leaning back and crossing your arms.

“Then explain the cat ears, Lo.”

“Stop it with the fucking cat ears!”

~~~~1 month later~~~

For some reason, the beginnings of a presidential election were taking place. Posters were hung on the walls all over the mansion, buttons had been made, flyers handed out, speeches given. Debates were even being held between students on the candidates. 

Well, candidate. Singular. There was only one creature running for office.

Floof.

Started by Crys, a blonde with super strength, and Eclipse, a green jacket-wearing girl who could block other mutant’s powers, the presidential campaign for Mr.Floofen von Floofypants was all the students could talk about. It didn’t help matters that Jean and Storm were working on ballots to be used for the upcoming election.

“All this for a cat is a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” Logan called down from his place on the steel ladder. He reached down and grabbed another thumbtack from your outstretched hand, “I mean, he’s not even the legal age to run.”

You and Logan were working on hanging streamers along the foyer ceiling. It was a day before the “election,” and most of the common areas had been decorated like they were taken from an American Dream magazine. Balloons, big banners saying “FLOOF,” party hats, and posters all bearing the red, white, and blue. It had definitely taken some convincing of Charles. Getting the Brit to yankee-fy his home was like getting Logan to let Floof in his lap.

“You’re Canadian. How do you know U.S. election law?” you asked. That earned a huff from Logan as he stuck the thumbtack through the blue streamer in his hands.

“I’ve been living in America longer than I did in Canada, doll. I’m practically a citizen,” he replied. He pushed on the thumbtack to ensure it was secure, then reached down for another. Floof, the electoral candidate himself, rubbed on your calf.

“Did you take the test?” you asked jokingly. Logan took the thumbtack from you, cocking an eyebrow at your question.

“What kinda test?” he responded. You breathed a laugh. Floof started pawing at your pant leg. You took the hint, scooping the kitten around the middle and holding him to your chest.

“The test to become a citizen,” you said. Logan rolled his eyes as he stuck the thumbtack through the streamer.

“Fuck no. Did the cat take the test?”

“He was born on US soil. He doesn’t need to,” you answered. The cat in question rubbed its chin on your fingers scratching at its neck. Vigorous purrs vibrated against your chest.

“I think he should take it if he wants to be president,” Logan said. You shifted your fingers to scratch at Floof’s pointed ears.

“And what exactly would be on a cat’s U.S. citizenship test?” you asked, laughing at the absurdity of this conversation. Logan grabbed another thumbtack.

“English comprehension, for one,” he said easily. You snorted, the noise disturbing the buzzing kitten in your arms. Floof looked up at you through squinted, blue eyes.

“Maow?”

“I think he comprehends English just fine,” you said, resuming your calming strokes on the kitten’s fluffy body. It seemed your disturbance was forgiven, the purrs resuming their intensity. Logan sighed.

“Is that so? Why don’t you ask him about his policies?” he suggested. The rest of the streamer was out of arm’s reach from his current position. He started climbing down the ladder, boots clanging on the metal rungs.

“That’ll have to wait for the debate tonight,” you said. Logan grabbed the ladder and moved a few feet towards the other end of the foyer. You shadowed behind him, both Floof and the box of thumbtacks in your arms.

“Who the fuck is debating against the cat?” Logan asked as he set the ladder down. You set Floof back on the floor to continue handing Logan thumbtacks from their plastic box. An annoyed trill came from the gray fuzzball.

“You are, Lo, if you keep it up,” you said. Logan glared at you, then climbed back up the ladder. He grabbed the limp, blue streamer and held it against the ceiling, reaching down for a thumbtack. You placed the brass pin in his palm, “Just imagine, two cats debating each other on their ideas of the flow of commerce. I’m sure it would be absolutely riveting.”

“I’m not a- you know what? I’m not gonna respond to that anymore. You clearly enjoy annoying me too much,” Logan grumbled. A wide, evil grin overtook your relaxed smile. 

“Took you long enough,” Storm said from behind you. The white-haired, brown-eyed woman stepped up next to you, her arms folded across her blue blouse. You met her amused smirk, then you both looked back up to Logan above you, “We’ve been waiting for you to give in since the beginning.”

“Beating a man into submission. How forward-thinking of you,” Logan said snarkily. Floof trotted over to the ladder and sat beneath where Logan stood. The kitten’s tail flicked back and forth along the wooden floor.

“Not so much ‘beating’ as getting you to see sense,” Storm replied. You snickered, digging in the box for another thumbtack, as Logan used his freehand to show Storm his middle finger.

~~~2 months later~~~

“Why are you feeding him that shit? It’ll make his fur all shaggy,” Logan called from his place at the breakfast table. Snow frosted on the window behind him, flakes steadily falling and glowing orange in the setting sun. 

A collection of snowmen sat on the fish pond’s bank. The little sculptures were a variety of shapes and sizes. Some being your stereotypical circular snowmen, others taking the shape of dragons or horses. The results of the art class you held outside yesterday.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, red glasses looking between Logan and Floof’s food bowl. He wore a yellow, wool sweater and brown slacks that complimented his cropped dark hair. He held a bag of store-brand kibble above the empty bowl.

“That knockoff bullshit ain’t good for longhaired cats, genius,” Logan said. He was leaning on his elbow propped on the oak breakfast table. That morning’s paper sat ignored next to his third coffee of the day. 

You sat across from him with Floof in your lap. One hand used to stroke along the steadily growing kitten, the other grading essays on Leonardo DaVinci your students had written. Your own mug was filled with your favorite tea.

“Why do you know so much about cat food?” Scott retorted. He set the crinkling bag of kibble back on the blue-tiled counter and faced Logan, hands finding their usual place on his hips.

“Look, all I know is that when you feed him that shit, he needs way more brushing than usual,” Logan explained, gesturing to the purring, gray fuzzball in your lap. Floof blinked slowly at Logan from across the table. You rested your chin in the hand you were petting Floof with, using your fingers to hide your growing smile.

“Well, it’s not like you’re the one doing the brushing,” Scott said indicatively. 

A few moments of silence filled the kitchen. The cuckoo clock hung above the sink ticked the seconds away. You looked at Logan with a knowing grin. Scott’s incredulous frown morphed into an ecstatic smile.

“Holy shit, you do brush him!” he exclaimed.

“Vampire’s usually busy with class!” Logan replied quickly, voice coming out frantic and desperate. You couldn’t hide the laughs that leaked through your fingers. Scott doubled over as he guffawed at Logan’s response.

“You-You brush the cat!” Scott wheezed, voice echoing from below the counter. Logan grumbled under his breath at both you and Scott, the two of you laughing like madmen. He grabbed the newspaper and opened it.

“Whatever,” he groused, pretending to ignore the cackles bouncing around him. 

Floof took offense to your shaking chest and slipped off your lap. His bell jingled as he crossed under the table to Logan, finding the grumpy man to be a much better spot to curl up. Your and Scott’s snickers were given new life when Floof hopped up and into Logan’s lap. Peals of roaring laughter, especially from Scott, surrounded Logan.

“Fuck you. Both of you,” he said. A tiny, gray paw patted at the air by Logan’s neck. Logan sighed, lowering a hand to scritch under Floof’s chin, “I don’t get any respect around here. Do I, bub?”

~~~4 months later~~~

It was a complete shock to everyone, the day you found out that Floof was a mutant. The cat had been growing at a healthy rate. Food was readily supplied, a never ending stream of affection followed the cat like a shadow, and a large number of toys were spread throughout the mansion.

So when Floof had walked behind your chair leg and appeared next to Logan in the doorway, all hell broke loose.

Hank and Jean had run tests on Floof’s blood to see if they could find the presence of an active X-gene. Drawing his blood, under the very close watch of Logan, and running it through their typical series of tests that all turned up positive. 

It was difficult for them to get any scans, x-ray or otherwise, of the cat as at the first clang or shudder of a machine, he’d appear upstairs or in the next room over.

“Damn thing just won’t stay still!” Hank exclaimed, blue fur frazzled and yellow eyes wide. His white lab coat was in a state of disarray you had never seen before. Jean sat on her office chair behind the lab’s computer. Her red hair was tied up in a loose bun, brown eyes scanning across the computer screen, lab coat perfect as always.

“You’re scaring him, asshole,” Logan said. He was leaning on a silver wall in the lab. Arms folded across his chest, leg crossed over the other, typical frown across his lips. This time, Floof had disappeared from being in the x-ray machine and appeared behind Logan’s legs. Logan stooped down to pick up the frightened cat.

“Then what do you suggest, o’ cat whisperer?” Hank asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. He rolled up his coat sleeves, white fabric bunching around his blue arms, as he reset the x-ray machine for the third time.

“I could sit in the machine with him,” you suggested. Both Hank and Logan’s gaze fell to you. You sat across the desk from Jean. You had been watching the whole exchange with a great deal of amusement. Hank sighed, lifting his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe, it’ll work,” he said. He replaced his glasses and gestured to Logan, “Lord knows this one’ll throw off the readings too much.”

Logan glared at Hank, hands buried in Floof’s long, gray fur. You stood from your chair and circled around the x-ray machine to Logan.

When you were met with hesitation from your partner, you paused. Logan’s dark brows were knit together, frown deepening across his lips, arms holding Floof tighter to his chest. You placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, he’ll be ok. It’s just some scans. And I’ll be right there with him,” you soothed. Logan puffed a gust of air from his scowl, the action rustling the fur on Floof’s head. The cat looked up at Logan with wide, blue eyes.

“I’ll make sure they’re quick,” Jean called from where she sat. You used the hand on Logan’s shoulder to massage soothing circles into the muscle.

Logan sighed, posture drooping, as he said, “Fine. But if he teleports one more time, that’s it. No more for today.”

“Of course, Lo,” you said. You gave him a reassuring smile. You knew all these tests were getting to him. Watching Floof get stressed over the large machinery and sharp needles reminded Logan too much of his past. Well, the parts he could remember. 

You tucked your hands between Floof and Logan, fingers running across long fur and flannel alike, and you pulled Floof against your chest. The usual intense purring that would buzz from Floof’s abdomen was nonexistent. You smiled again at Logan, who returned a smirk that didn’t meet his eyes, then turned to Hank.

“I’ll need you to lay down on the table. The cat, or… Floof, will sit in your lap. You’ll have to be very still, or you’ll throw off the scans,” Hank instructed. You nodded in response, approaching the x-ray machine. As you sat on the metal table you could feel Floof’s heartbeat speed up.

“Shhh, baby. It’s alright,” you cooed, lips pressed into the short hairs on top of Floof’s head. Floof rubbed his head against your chin. A small “mrraow” accompanied a few licks on your neck. 

You felt every single eye in the room on you, especially Logan’s, as you laid down on the table. Floof settled into the crook of your legs, feet tucked under his chest and tail wrapped around his paws. The epitome of a fluffy loaf. You ran your fingers across his back a few times.

“Alright. Try not to move,” Hank said, grabbing the handles at the foot of the table. You gave Floof one last scritch under the chin then placed your hands at your sides. Floof kept his eyes on you as both of you were pushed under the x-ray machine.

You ended up inside a long, metal tube. Lights lining the white metal started blinking on, one by one. Blue light filled your vision. You glanced down at Floof, who was still staring up at you. You slowly blinked back at him.

“Everything alright in there?” you heard Logan ask. His low voice ricocheted around inside the metal tube. 

“Yup. So far, so good,” you replied. Floof was sitting perfectly still in your lap. You continued to slow-blink at him.

“About to take the first set of scans. Keep him still,” Hank called from the other end of the machine. You hummed in response. 

A low whirring kicked on along the entirety of the tube. Floof’s pointed ears flattened against his head.

“You’re okay, we’re okay,” you said calmly. Your continued slow-blinking and soothing voice seemed to be working wonders. Other than his ears, which were now back to pointing towards you, he had remained perfectly still. There was a louder ca-chunk that slightly rattled the table near your stomach and made Floof flinch.

“That’s his top half done. How’s it looking, Jean?” Hank said.

“Looks perfect. Keep doing what you’re doing, vampire,” Jean replied. 

Floof remained perfectly still as the whirring picked up again by your knees. Ears perked up at you, blue eyes slowly blinking, claws only slightly digging into your jeans. The second ca-chunk didn’t even phase the cat. He just continued to stare at you. You could even feel the purrs building in his chest.

“Okay, got what I need! Go ahead and pull ‘em out, Hank,” Jean said. The blue lights surrounding you blinked off in sync as you felt the foot of the table rattle again.

The lights of the lab were nearly blinding when you emerged from the x-ray machine. You used one hand to shield your eyes while the other stroked along Floof’s back.

Logan was at your side in an instant. He scooped Floof into his arms and cradled the cat to his chest. Fingers scritching under Floof’s chin, nose buried in the fur on Floof’s back. Seemed the whole ordeal affected Logan more than you thought. You ran a reassuring hand along Logan’s arm.

“Why don’t you two head on upstairs? I’ve got it covered from here,” you said lowly. Logan gave you a once over, nodded, then carried the ball of fur in his arms out of the lab.

You sighed as you sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the table. Your eyes met Jean’s confused expression.

“Alkali,” was all you said. Jean quietly said “oh,” then turned her attention back to the computer. You pushed yourself off the table and moved to look over Jean’s shoulder, “Anything standing out?”

“Well, for one, you have horrible bone density,” Jean replied. You gave her arm a light smack. Jean laughed at your response, then continued, “Nothing in his skeletal structure is off. All of his joints are connected where they should be, cartilage is intact, nothing’s broken.”

“So his mutation isn’t physical?” you asked. Jean shook her head while biting her lower lip. 

“We’d have to do an MRI on his brain to tell for certain. But, as far as I can tell, he’s like me and Kurt,” she explained. You heard Hank scoff behind you.

“More similar to Kurt, I’d say. Both him and the cat are awful to analyze,” he said, laughing without humor. You turned to look at him, arms folding across your chest.

“At least Floof does it because he’s scared. Kurt does it to piss you off,” you said. Hank grumbled under his breath at that, seeming to recount all of the failed exams he’d given the Nightcrawler over the years. You chuckled at his disgruntled reaction.

“We should be good, vampire. Go check on Logan for me,” Jean said, drawing your attention away from Hank. You gave her a pat on the shoulder, then followed Logan’s path out of the lab.

The jarring difference between the basement and the mansion itself would be alarming to anyone who hadn’t spent decades living there. 

In the mansion, warm wood and plush furniture could be found in every room. Golden sunlight filtered in through grand windows, vibrant green plants in colorful pots decorated shelves and tables, beautiful paintings and cheerful pictures were hung on every available wall.

In the basement, however, steel lined everything. Chrome ceilings, chrome floors, chrome doors, even chrome furniture constructed the entire basement. High-tech gadgets, like state of the art computers and medical equipment, were reserved to be specifically used in the basement’s lab. Giant, metal doors hid training rooms and simulation areas the older students would utilize. And, what was often sought after and coveted, lay behind a door with a large, chrome x on it.

Cerebro. A circular room with a single, metal console in its center. An array of switches and buttons were embedded in the console. Wires ran to and from the console’s base and the platform it stood on. Sitting on its pedestal was the helmet Charles would put on when he used Cerebro. Metal rods and wires protruding from a chrome cap that glowed blue when in use.

Just beyond Cerebro’s door is where you saw Charles. His mechanical wheelchair whirred as he directed himself into the open room.

“Hey professor,” you said as you passed. Charles looked over his shoulder at you and smiled.

“Hello, my dear. I was just about to do the monthly search. Care to join?” he asked. He spun his wheelchair in place so he could face you. He wore a clean, blue suit and a pale yellow tie. His shiny, black shoes reflected the artificial white light that gleamed from lights set in the ceiling.

“I’d love to,” you replied. Your shoes clicked along the polished, chrome floor as you walked up to where Charles’s wheelchair sat. The hand resting on the chair’s joystick moved, spinning the chair to face into Cerebro, then matched your pace as you walked through the huge doors.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about Logan,” Charles said, reading your mind like always. He didn’t do it out of malice or ill-intent. It was just second nature for him to hear the runaway thoughts of those around him. His bright, blue eyes peered up at you as you walked across the suspended platform, “Memories of Alkali always tend to make him anxious. Just give him time.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. Small, white lights on the sides of the platform flicked on as you and Charles walked further into the room. The enormous, paneled sphere that constructed Cerebro bounced the light all around you, giving the space a pleasant glow. 

You stopped just behind Charles as he rolled up to the console. You watched as he fiddled with a few switches and buttons, none of it making sense to you, before he looked back at you again.

“You know the drill. No moving,” he said through a kind smile. You gave him two thumbs-up, which made him chuckle, then clasped your hands together in front of you. 

Charles turned back to the console and lifted the helmet. The chrome glinted in the soft, white light, throwing strange reflections onto his aged face. He raised the helmet above his head, wires stretched near their limit, before he set the chrome cap around his head.

In an instant, the room around you melted away into an endless space of darkness. Clouds of black ink flooded your vision, the entire white room overtaken by a midnight sky. White dots started sprouting up amongst the darkness. First one, then ten, then millions and millions lit up the blackness until they formed constellations in the shape of the world’s continents. 

Everytime you got the chance to see Cerebro in action, it took your breath away. Watching as Charles connected with every human’s mind on earth was nothing short of incredible. Brief visions of people all over the world floated past in glowing apparitions. Ghosts showing glimpses into peoples’ lives flying by in rapid succession.

Red overtook the white as Charles focused on specifically mutants. Crimson stars blinked in the dark, taking up significantly less of the night’s sky than the humans’ white spots did. 

The visions flying past were now drenched in a red glow. One showing a girl, no older than three, playing with a barbie doll. Another showing a teenage boy flirting with a classmate.

Two silhouettes stood out amongst the chaos. Both female, both older in their teenagehood, but looking nothing alike.

The first was a taller girl. Hair smoothed back into a ponytail, arms as thick as tree trunks, skin reflecting light like a cluster of diamonds. A whisper of “Lindsay” from Charles gave a name to the face. Her apparition floated back amongst the constellations to land somewhere in New Zealand.

The second was a girl sitting on a rooftop. Her skin was coated in shimmering scales, eyes slitted like a snake’s, bat-like wings protruding from her back. She was curled up next to a gargoyle, surveying the city below her. “Brooke” was the name Charles said, then her image floated away and landed in Utah.

The red dots were snuffed as streaks of darkness flew through the air. Like coffee under a paper towel, the black ink overtaking the room disappeared into the console. Charles tucked his fingers under his helmet and placed it back on its pedestal.

“Right. Two new mutants. One in Utah, the other in New Zealand,” he said. He turned his chair around to face you again. A hopeful, gleeful look was painted across his face like a work of art, “I’ll send Scott and Storm to fetch them. In the meantime, have Jean drum up some high-strength pain reliever. Lindsay seems to have a migraine problem.”

“On it,” you replied, your own grin growing to match his. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and texted the details to Jean, following after Charles as he exited Cerebro.

“Two more students. Ah, I can’t wait! I have a feeling Vienna and Brooke will get along quite well. Not to mention how Crys and Daniel will take to someone like them when Lindsay arrives,” Charles said cheerfully. With the message sent, you stowed your phone in your pocket and focused on the professor. He continued to ramble on about the interactions he predicted to happen between the new and current students. You listened intently, fondness filling your chest like a warm breath.

The two of you entered the circular elevator, with cream-colored walls and a yellow light set in the ceiling, as Charles spoke. You felt the floor lurch as the elevator started to climb up to the mansion.

“Both Brooke and Lindsay seemed to be rather talented writers. Hopefully they’ll like the creative writing club. Oh, and they should enjoy the book club, too,” he said. The elevator door slid open to reveal the mansion’s first floor. 

Kurt, the blue-skinned and long-tailed teleporter, threw you and the professor a wave as he passed by. Several textbooks about religious studies were clutched in his clawed hands. You gave him a wide grin and a wave of your own.

“Afternoon, Kurt,” Charles chirped, smiling fondly at the German as the two of you passed by. A quiet “afternoon!” followed you and the professor as you walked toward the west wing of the mansion. You trailed after Charles for a few more paces.

“If you don’t need anything else, I’m gonna go check on Logan,” you said. You paused in the middle of the long, windowed hallway you and Charles occupied. He gave you a nod.

“Yes, please do. Give him my best,” Charles said. You gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, his wrinkled hand patting on the back of yours, before you made your way to the staircase in the foyer.

Several students greeted you as you walked through the mansion. Christopher, a dark-haired brainiac, and Josh, a brown-eyed boy with two extra arms, said a brief “hi!” before returning to the scattered chemistry homework in front of them. Mads, the short-haired plant bender, waved at you from where she knelt next to a plant with withering leaves. A subtle, green glow emanated from her palms as life was pumped back into the monstera.

While climbing up the grand staircase you noticed one of Floof’s campaign posters still pinned to the wall. Wide eyes stared out of a red, white, and blue drawing. You smirked, remembering how much the whole thing had annoyed Logan.

Rogue and Bobby gave you a brief greeting as you passed on the landing between opposing stairs. They continued down the carpeted staircase you had just climbed as they discussed seeing a movie together later that week.

When you reached your and Logan’s room, the third door on the left, you noticed it was firmly shut. Thinking it strange, you turned the brass knob and swung open the wooden door.

“Maaaooowww!” Floof yelled from where he sat next to the door. He gave your leg a quick sniff, then darted between your legs and into the hall behind you. 

Perplexed, you looked at Logan. He was sitting on your shared bed. Arms crossed over his chest, boots kicked off next to the bed, eyes closed as calming piano played from his phone’s speakers.

You slowly latched the door shut behind you, toeing off your shoes, and climbed into bed next to him. A rough grunt met the jostling of the mattress. You sat next to Logan, your back leaning on the wooden headboard.

You let silence hang in the air, only disturbed by the light song playing from the nightstand. When Logan got like this, stuck in his own mind, it was best to let him take things at his own pace. If you moved too fast he’d completely shut down. Which, having known him for at least two decades at this point, was something you could easily maneuver around.

After a few minutes you felt a rustle next to you. Logan’s arms uncrossed from his chest, eyes still closed, as the hand closest to you fitted into yours. You tangled your fingers with his. A few more moments passed, then you felt the weight of Logan’s head on your shoulder.

You pressed a soft kiss into his hair. He hummed in response, rubbing his cheek along the sleeve of your sweatshirt. 

“Doing alright?” you whispered. Another minute passed, piano filling the room.

“Yeah,” Logan mumbled. The hand not clutched in yours was thrown across your waist. He pulled you against his body, face buried in the crook of your neck, “Yeah, now I am.”

You let your fingers nestle in the short hairs along his neck. Soft, soothing strokes along his skin that left him practically purring against you. 

“All the stuff with Floof dredge something up?” you asked. A beat, then Logan nodded against your shoulder.

“Medical stuff, ya know? It’s just… A lot,” Logan explained. He squeezed you tighter against his chest. You gave the crown of his head another gentle kiss.

“Take your time, Lo,” you breathed. You tracked the deep inhales that filled Logan’s chest and the smooth glide of his cheek on your shoulder. Good. Didn’t seem like a panic attack was brewing.

The two of you sat on the bed, cuddled against each other, light piano playing around you for another couple minutes. Calm, still settings like this were the best for when Logan was struggling with his past, you’d found. Breathing with him, gentle touches, and reaffirming words helped keep him grounded in the present.

You started chattering quietly about what the scans had shown. That nothing seemed abnormal about Floof, that the teleportation must stem from his brain, and that you apparently had low bone density. That sparked a brief chuckle from Logan’s chest.

After about an hour of the two of you huddled together, a light scratching came from the bedroom door. You sighed, head rolling back and thonking on the wooden headboard.

“Frickin’ cat,” you murmured under your breath. Logan reluctantly untangled his limbs from yours. He leaned back against the headboard, hazel eyes opening and looking at you.

“You wanted him,” he said, an amused grin growing on his lips. You groaned, pushing yourself off the bed and walking over to the door.

When you pulled it open, a gray and white furry bullet shot into the room. A chorus of indignant meows overshadowed the music coming from Logan’s phone. You scooped up the annoyed cat and moved back to the bed. Floof’s distinct, intense purrs rumbled against your chest.

“Hey, bub,” Logan said when you sat next to him. Floof squirmed in your arms until you finally released him, then the little shit jumped into Logan’s lap. Your mouth gaped open.

“Fucking traitor,” you gasped. Your despair was ignored as Floof circled himself a few times, paws kneading into Logan’s jeans, then curled up in Logan’s lap. Logan scritched under Floof’s chin.

“Sorry, doll. Guess he’s picked a side,” Logan said, cocky grin plastered on his stupid face. You huffed while curling your knees against your chest and thumping your chin on top.

“You’re lucky I love you, ya jerk. Or else I’d be fighting for that cat’s honor,” you grumbled. Logan laughed, the deep sound bouncing out of his mouth like a large bell.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight. You’d win,” he said. Floof nuzzled into Logan’s palm, purring so strong you could feel it in your chest. You let your head fall onto Logan’s shoulder. You felt his cheek rub against your hair.

“Nah,” you said. You looked between Logan and Floof. Matching ears and hair tufts, smiling eyes filled with adoration, purrs and happy hums coming from both of them. Your initial grumpiness was overshadowed by a deep-seated adoration for the two of them, “You would.”

~~~~6 months later~~~

You stood in your and Logan’s shared room. Warm, wooden panels covered the walls decorated in landscape paintings. A black cat tree, about four-feet tall, sat in front of one of the windows by your bed. The pale green curtains were drawn just enough so only a sliver was left open for Floof, who enjoyed sitting on the top platform and watching the flying birds and bugs.

The rustling of clothes, caused by your rummaging, disturbed the peace in the room. You were digging around amongst Logan’s folded shirts in the wardrobe’s drawers. A white t-shirt sat on top of the wardrobe. Bold, black print reading “#1 Cat Dad” sat in the center front of the t-shirt, along with an image of Floof surrounded by a large, red heart. 

You slipped the t-shirt amongst the space you had made in the drawer then slid the wooden compartment closed. Confident in how well you hid the new article of clothing, you took a look around the room.

Pictures of you, Logan, and Floof sat on every available surface. Earlier pictures featured a frowning and distant Logan, who was uncomfortable being in a picture with the young kitten. But, as Floof got older, Logan was seen in more and more pictures with him. The two of them cuddling on the couch, Floof curled up on a sleeping Logan’s chest in bed, Logan holding Floof up like Simba in the Lion King.

A fond smile graced your lips. The man you loved most, an unerring grump, really did have a soft spot. Him and Floof had grown inseparable. When Logan walked into a room, the now full-sized, fluffy, gray cat was sure to follow. Whenever Floof needed to visit a vet, Logan was the one to take him. If Logan were to leave for a mission, Floof would consistently yell the entire time his pal was gone.

Several footsteps passing by your open door drew your attention from the pictures. You looked into the hallway at what had caused the noise.

Logan, hair styled in the classic two tufts, had Floof perched on his shoulder. The adult cat was draped over Logan’s flannel-covered back like a fluffy scarf. The pair reminded you of a mountain lion perched on a tall cliff.

Logan threw you a grin and a quick wave. You smiled, waving back, as your vision shifted to the swarm of children following Logan. Eyes wide with adoration for Floof, toothy grins on each child’s face, giggles exchanged between students.

As the crowd passed by, the long-haired cat meeting your eyes and letting out a soft “mraow,” it was hard to believe that there was a time when Logan had said “no fucking way” to Floof.

once again, so much love to the murdock tuna team!! you all fill me with so much joy on a daily basis. i'm so incredibly thankful to each and every one of you :) also, here's what the Floof 2024 posters look like

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[otterloreart]

MLP-Takara generations: a design experiment

Takara MLPs are considered generation 1 My Little Pony; the original ponies look like little horses and the takaras are obviously very different.

But the standard MLP toyline underwent a lot of changes throughout the years... so, if the takaras had been successful, what would their changes look like?

Generation 1 year 2+ takaras.

Year one MLP was only a few ponies with a single color of body + matching hair... just like the takaras. It was year 2 that they introduced unicorns. pegasus, and seaponies.

You all know I've already been concepting these so it's not surprising at all. As MLP g1 went on, they ended up doing more and more gimmicks throughout the 80s which would also be kind of fun to see the takaras do... (hint hint if you want me to draw those lmk which gimmicks are your favorites)

I also think they should bring in markings like the normal ponies but that could be part of the gimmicks. Maybe on their cheeks, or on their bellies like care bears?

In the later years og MLP also had a lot of variations on the normal pony body type, so maybe you could also see the takaras with that kind of variant, so that might be cute:

Moving on!

Generation 2

If you aren't big into early gen My Little Pony you might not know that generation 2 didn't do very well; it was a reboot of a beloved franchise, it was new, and different, and all that jazz:

Main differences between them and g1: first, you can see they have a very late G1-type body, which is why I pointed out the thinner pony in g1. Their face is less detailed and rounder, but they have a little more expression, very smiley.

Their ears have a more horse-y curled in shape, they have fur around their hooves (in g1 only the boy ponies had hoof floof), and they have a gem in their eye.

Also they had a lot more moving-leg gimmicks where you could push one part of their body and another would move (eg push tail -> bobs head)

So you may ask, how am I could to g2-ify the takaras? After all, they are already much rounder than the g1 ponies. Well, I'm not going to make them just *look like* the g2 ponies, although I'll borrow more elements.

Instead: I am going to take and exaggerate all of the differences that I listed above and see what we come up with.

So! Here is my idea for g2 takara pony. I feel like its the exact balance of very cute and something that would upset collectors familiar with the original takaras, just as g2 upset the g1 fans.

First off, she's thinner, the iconic takara nose is removed in favor of a sculpt with a smiling mouth, the legs are more horse shaped with fluff and human fingers to match the additional foot detail. a lot of people find the g2s a little "uncanny" so I feel like this works.

The sparkley eye gem and ear shape are just straight off the original g2s, just to have extra gimmick to it (also the og takaras basically had the g1 ears)

g2 came out in the late 90s so I like to imagine the pony eyes would be extra shoujo too

Finally, a ball jointed head for more flexibility. (yes the arm would be posed like that in the doll, because its a more dynamic pose, and we can also assume that the larger size allows the doll to have a joint with more flexibility)

g2 had pretty similar gimmicks to g1 but also had some light up ponies, so maybe the takaras could have some with that gimmick too

fun fact, g2 MLP was sold for a longer time in Europe and performed better there.

Generation 3

Generation 3 ponies are a pretty clear return to g1 MLP style, kinda scrapping most of the changes g2 made, other than proportionally thinning out the ponies a bit.

g3 ponies have very similar face sculpts with bigger eyes, nearly the same legs, and their heads just a bit bigger in proportion to their body

They do remind me a lot of the g1 Petite ponies, which were 1 inch sculptures that also had those proportionally bigger eyes and chunkier legs.

I have here included the g1 so you can see the slight changes better! I think the main difference would be the g3 takara would be a lot rounder, smoother, and cutesy-er. While the original has the hello-kitty simple cute look, the g3 version would definitely have like eyelashes and big eyes.

The only other thing to note about the body is some bigger ears, a generally rounder face, and round feet.

There weren't many gimmicks super /unique/ to g3 but one I wanted to highlight was the Breezies. G1 did have the flutter ponys, which were ponies with butterfly/dragonfly type wings, but the breezies are like their own little species AND they have antennae. While the flutter ponies were sort of graceful and thinner than the other ponies, the breezies are like little chibi-er ponies.

A little bit Littlest Pet Shop-core, since its the early 2000s too.

SPEAKING OF

Generation 4 Generation 3.5

Before there was gen4 there was a subset of Gen3 ponies with a different and unique style. They were basically an exaggerated version of the Breezies with even bigger feet and tinier snouts. They are also VERY littlest-pet-shop-core.

So, pretty straightforward changes

Just an even more chibi, kid-ish style pony. I think the g3.5 ponies were even meant to be kids. So this is just an even more child-friendly, littlest pet shop type horsey.

Generation 4

So, obviously generation 4 ushered in a whole new era of My Little Pony with its unique and bright artstyle, which did need to transfer over to the ponies

Personally, while I love g4 in a lot of ways im not a fan of the toys in the same way I am the other generations, their little noses have shrunk to specks, they're skinnier and more big-eyed than ever. Well, g3.5 was pretty big-eyed but at least those ones were like little kids.

This is such a drastic shift from g1/g3 and even g4, I would be unsure about the takaras.

So: eyes, bigger. Snout, so tiny and so smooth. Ears, bigger. Hooves are flatter and parts of the legs are just kinda featureless. a longer neck. They released a decent amount of ponies with plastic hair this gen, too.

I was struggling to come up with a doll for this one, but I finally realized I was doing it backwards. The thing that makes g4 stand out, I think, is the fact it was fundamentally designed opposite from g1. Lauren Faust, an animator, designed the ponies and the toys had to be designed around her art.

So the primary difference was considering what a tv show- a tv show concieved in the 2000s and airing in 2010s- and I did look into some kids properties from that time period as I was designing

I think these Strawberry shortcake dolls are really close to the concept I'd want for a early 2010s mirror of MLP g4. So basically these toys but more anthro.

I ended up making a 3D mockup so I'd be able to plan the different angles and keep them consistent.

The eyes are kind of far apart but I think thats true of the g4 pony toys as well. Again, because of the way the g4 show was stylized as animation, there was sort of cheating with the anatomy, especially on the face.

Generation 4.5

Gen 4.5 was a spinoff of gen4, just like gen3 had 3.5 where the ponies are more chibi. More big eyes with even bigger ears and a face like... a cats? instead of a horse. Hoof fluff again.

I think this nailed the style without being as much of an outright copy. The bendy arms with fingers seem so silly but also I think that matches the vibe/artstyle.

G4.5 don't look like horses to me really at all though, they're like cats with hooves. Out of all of them we've seen so far they're suffering the most from "predator eyes" where they've gone so far as to make their eyes just face forward.

Generation 5

Generation 5 premiered with a CGI movie, so the toys that would be released are fairly on model with their movie selves except for the fact their heads are smack dab in the middle of their neck which i find extremely unsettling and dislike

We've gone full "predator eyes" (no the predator eyes thing doesnt 100% biologically hold up but I find them freaky and I get to say it) AND full human eyebrows stenciled in like a makeup vlogger in the same color as the hair.

The ears are back to cup shaped (more horselike) but again the face is round with a little muzzle (more catlike). The hooves have really detailed feathering on the legs. Otherwise the body is mostly just structured like the g4 body (except a bit longer) just with more specific horse details.

These continued the trend of having a lot more articulated versions with moving legs as well. I think given that most dolls these days have articulated elbows and knees, it is reasonable to expect the takara g5 dolls would too.

Again, I made a 3D model so I could keep it consistent from various angles.

ta-daaaa heres my takara pony generations 1-5 lineup! Tell me which youuuuur favorite are. if you want.

[peaches2217]

“Alright, I think we’re done here. Are you ready, love?”

Perfect timing. Mario shook out the blanket compressed between his hands with a dramatic flourish. After feeding it a steady supply of heat for a good five minutes straight, the entire room felt a few degrees warmer as its fabric cascaded to the ground.  “One fluffy blankie, floofed up and toasted to perfection!”

Bath Night was, by now, an easy routine: one of them washed and dried, the other swaddled and dressed, simple and efficient and predictable. That didn’t stop Peach from giggling at Mario’s theatrics as if bearing witness to them for the first time, and that certainly didn’t stop Mario’s heart from somersaulting at such a beautiful sound.

And even that didn’t compare to what his heart did as Peach passed a towel one last time over the squirming, fussy infant before her, clicking her tongue and “I know, I know, I know”ing with a gentle smile on her lips. 

He’d been assured the honeymoon phase of new parenthood would quickly fade away, slough from his shoulders at some point between the bi-hourly feedings and the 2AM crying spells. But he felt the same way watching his wife coo and kiss their freshly-bathed little girl as he’d felt seeing that little girl in her mother’s arms for the first time; wrapping the blanket he’d prepared around his daughter and holding her close felt every bit as magical as it felt the night she was born.

Two months in, and still he was waiting. He was beginning to think he’d be waiting forever.

That little girl — Cocoa Emilia Marionetti-Toadstool, Crown Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom, the very embodiment of all that was good and light and right with the world — protested noisily as Mario swaddled her, a task complicated by her tiny but persistent flailing.

“Oh, si gela, si gela! Lo so!” He maneuvered around her movements with only minimal struggle, bobbing and weaving in place in his efforts to keep her still. “Did Mamma not get the water warm enough? Oh, mio poverino ghiacciolo!”

“Mamma ensured the water was at perfect temperature, thank you,” Peach huffed as she wiped down the bathing cradle; she sounded decently affronted, but the reflection Mario caught in the vanity mirror was aglow in playfulness. “It’s not my fault standing water gets cold faster in the winter.”

“And you just let it get cold?” Mario inquired, summoning all the mock-accusation he could into his voice. “Didn’t even try bending the laws of physics for our perfect little princess?”

“We can’t all be sentient hot water bottles!” Peach harrumphed and turned her nose up, a perfect caricature of regal distaste, and Mario bit back a laugh so the noise wouldn’t startle little Cocoa. She was only now beginning to relax. They had already subjected her to enough for one night.

The art of soothing a moody baby was an art that Mario was made specifically for, he’d thought more than once. His body was stout enough to shield his daughter, strong enough to fight for her, yet soft and still enough to rock her to sleep. His heart beat loud and steady within his chest, a rhythmic pulse she sought out and relaxed into each time he held her close. “Lo senti?” he sometimes whispered to her during restless nights. “Questo cuore batte per te.”

Point in case, he cradled her to his sternum once she was secure within her blanket, and despite her fussing and fitfulness, she decided just as quickly that she wasn’t so upset after all. The plush pink fabric enveloping her retained heat well enough, but Mario wasn’t one to take chances; his hands tingled as he called forth his Firebrand, and little Cocoa sighed beneath the additional warmth, nuzzling in closer to her father.

Being a “sentient hot water bottle” always had its perks, but he was more grateful for those powers now than ever.

“Actually,” Peach said a few minutes later, “that’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

Mario hummed to assure her he was listening. The art of soothing came naturally to him, but the art of diapering did not, attentive and nimble-fingered though he was, so he double- and triple-checked the fastenings from all angles as she continued.

“How do you suppose her powers will manifest? Will she be able to summon fire as well, or will her abilities be limited to the ones I possess?”

Content with his handiwork, Mario began the simpler task of buttoning Cocoa into a onesie — footed for extra warmth and pastel pink like ninety percent of her wardrobe — and, as Peach’s words processed in his brain, he wondered.

Bleary sapphire eyes blinked up at him. Poor little Cocoa must have been exhausted. Since her last nap, she’d had a meal, a burping, a bowel movement, a bath, and now a change of clothes. That was a full day’s work for a newborn, and it hadn’t even been two hours. “It’s that Brooklyn work ethic,” Luigi once suggested. “Always putting in overtime. Mamma would’ve been so proud.”

Mario had yet to consider his daughter learning to heal, and to bless, and to levitate, and to summon fire and control it; there was plenty enough happening in the present. He scooped her and her blanket from the changing table once she was dressed and kissed her gently. Yes, for now, she had to focus on growing up big and strong. Then they could worry about magic.

The oddity of Peach’s question struck him as he transferred their child into her arms.

“Hey, hold up — tesoro, you’re making some pretty bold claims there!”

“Hm?” Peach’s eyes flicked to the rocking chair a few steps away, and Mario quickly made himself useful before bothering to elaborate, patting the cushions to ensure maximum comfort and holding the back of the chair steady for her.

“Well, why would she only have your abilities?” he asked as she lowered herself into the seat. “And how do you even know if she’ll have either of ours? It’s pretty much fifty-fifty on all sides, yeah?”

Peach muttered her thanks as she adjusted herself and her baby, and Mario carefully released the chair, taking a small step back so she had room to rock.

“It might be up to chance in the end, yes,” she continued as she settled into a gentle pace, back and forth and back again. “That said, the magic within me has passed through generations by birth. Predecessors who couldn’t wield wish power have always been exceptions to the rule.”

Mario Aaaaaahed in understanding. “And my Firebrand is first-generation, just like my mamma and papa, yeah?”

Peach turned her head, nodding as well as she could over her shoulder. “And given that it’s not innate, who’s to say whether it can be passed down?”

The beginning of an agreement died on Mario’s tongue. Not innate. He wasn’t born with it, no, but he certainly hadn’t gained it by way of study and incantations.

“Well, I’d say it’s pretty ‘innate.’ I mean…” He looked down at his right hand, rotating it in the soft lights of the nursery, examining the dark hair and skin lines and veins; with a single thought of Fire, so quick and routine that his brain barely registered it as a word, familiar heat flowed into that hand, and with a deliberate flick of his wrist, it was engulfed in a puff of flame.

He observed the flame for a moment before shaking out his hand to extinguish it. No burn marks, no singed hair, no reddening or blisters. Just skin that was hot to the touch. “Don’t need a fancy spell or a magic wand to do that,” he bragged, trusting she at least felt his flame if she hadn’t seen it.

Her expression was hidden from him, but he could see her cheeks drawing upward in a smile, and that was every bit as satisfying. “Still, it was given to you. Does it reside within your body, or is it entwined with your genetic makeup? Is it something that can be passed down?”

Mario thought on this in silence, resting his hand on the chair’s back and idly following along with Peach’s movements. The powers he and his brother gained in the Oho Oasis weren’t well-documented at all, but they were divine in origin (though he was still uncertain of the extent of that divinity). He’d never questioned how it worked on a biological level. It just was. But the more he thought on it, the more likely he considered that power to be part of him, woven into his very DNA just as Peach’s magic was tied to her soul. 

And if it wasn’t, well… that didn’t mean Cocoa couldn’t receive that power as well. Possibility and probability were two separate factors.

He stood on his toes to better peer over his wife’s shoulder. It was strange to think about. At that very moment, this tiny, fragile, precious life they had created could be storing magic the likes of which most would never experience, much less use. Maybe it existed for now as a whisper that would strengthen with time. Maybe it already flowed through her blood at full force, waiting only for its wielder to develop the fine motor skills necessary to summon it.

Just how powerful was that magic? How deeply did it run, and what sorts of powers would it grant her? How would they teach her to control it? What sorts of repercussions would come about as a result?

Mario knew only one thing for certain: right now, Cocoa didn’t care. She was fast asleep, her head tucked against the crease of Peach’s elbow, a trickle of drool at the corner of her mouth. Tiny hands that might one day fight or mend presently clenched at Peach’s nightgown, kneading lazily at the chiffon.

Yes, what good was ruminating on the future when the present was already so sweet?

Letting go of the chair and placing his hands on Peach’s shoulders, he called his Firebrand forth once more. No flames this time, no showy display of supernatural ability; just heat, the perfect temperature for tense, tired muscles. Peach sighed and leaned back into that heat, another quiet thanks on her lips.

“Kinda scary to think about.” Mario chuckled, massaging her shoulders and earning another pleased sigh. “I mean, a little Mini Me running around is scary enough, but a Mini Me that can float through the air and set things on fire before she even learns to tie her shoes?”

Peach’s laughter joined with his, soft and weary and sincere. “Then… let’s think about it later. How’s that sound?”

“Hm. Yeah.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and he couldn’t resist lingering there, his fingers loosening Peach’s muscles and his temple resting against hers, watching the snoozing infant all cozy in her arms. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

[scoutswritingcorner]

hi!! i saw your angel dust headcannons for a small cold reader and was possibly hoping i can request some angel dust comfort? my family’s been giving me a rough time lately and i just can’t seem to escape them :( i just want some fluffy spider cuddles (and mayhaps a raccoon demon reader 👀 it’s not needed it was just a funny little detail to add lol)

The Best Way To Comfort

Angel Dust x Male Raccoon Demon Reader

A/N: Hihi Anon! You’re request was so fucking adorable and I hope everything gets better my friend! Hope this brings a smile to your face and I was writing this with a Raccoon Demon reader in my mind!!

-🕷️ As soon as he sees you upset Angel is scooping you up in his arms and hugging you close. If you don’t want to talk to him about it, he won’t pressure you. He understands being closed off and unresponsive. But if you want to talk? He’s all ears baby. If you start crying, he wipes your tears away and kisses your forehead.

-🩷 Best cuddler around, he’s got all those arms for a reason and holding you against him is the best use of those arms second best to holding your hand. He also loves your ears and little bushy racoon tail (and how you're always grabbing things ya’ little thief-). His eyes widen in surprise if you allow him to touch your ears and tail. 

-🕷️ He adores how short you are compared to him and will pick you up at random. Do not get me started if you start making those chittering raccoon noises, he will laugh and kiss your face. He thinks it’s down right adorable.

-🩷 This straight up became talking about raccoon things you do BUT- Some nights he wakes up to see you skulking around and if you get caught you freeze before slowly reaching for whatever you wanted. He finds it adorable but you are disrupting his beauty sleep and he will pick you up to bring back to bed, he’s not afraid of your growls and hissing.

-🕷️ Back to cuddles, laying your head on his chest floof and falling asleep with Fat Nuggets in your arms is a 100% chance of him snapping some pictures. His phone background is a picture of you having fallen asleep in a weird place and his lockscreen is of you and him at a bar.

-🩷 Sometimes when he can’t find Fat Nuggets around and he starts to freak out, he just lifts up your tail and finds the little piglet dead asleep curled up. This mostly happens when he comes home super late from work and finds you still awake but focused on something else. 

-🕷️ Kisses? Are a must, he loves kissing you. Bending down and kissing you, picking you up and kissing you. That one time where you literally climbed your own boyfriend and kissed him. He loves it and the ways he can kiss you are endless. 

-🩷 One time you were clinging to his back and he forgot about you for a moment and literally went looking around the hotel for you. He was in tears by the time Charlie brought it up and after that? He was embarrassed and won’t talk to anyone for an hour.

-🕷️Also can we talk about how caring he is? Like if you need to take medication? He’s set an alarm on your phone and he will text you as another reminder. Even when he’s on set, he has a personalized alarm for himself so he won’t forget either. Need help reaching something while you cook or want a snack that Alastor hides from you? It’s already in his hands.

-🩷 Angel Dust loves you so much and wants the best for you. For him? You’re the best thing that has happened in a very very long time and he doesn’t want to lose you. Not that he will, you got your little thieving fingers around his heart and you’re not letting go of your greatest treasure.

[seullovesme]

welp, hi. any irene thoughts?🎀 irene cuddling reader to sleep because the reader had a long day...☹️☹️ oh god I need some floof🥲🥲I'm so overwhelmed these days lmao. Sorry for ranting, btw I love ur stories!!!😍

hihi, im sorry to hear that you're overwhelmed and i hope this helps you even a little bit 😖

cuddles w/ bae irene

irene is always very observant. she can tell when you're happy, sad, angry, frustrated, it's like reading a book for her. so when you come home with a wrinkle between your brows, she can tell somethings up. irene asks how your day was, receiving a grumble that you're fine.

usually you always tell her what the issue is when you're upset like this, so she was caught off guard by you kinda pushing her away. she lets you know you can talk to her and that she leaves for your bedroom, waiting for you to show up. an hour or two later, you're still not there. she gets up to check and finds you laying on the couch, arms shielding your face from the kitchen light.

obviously, irene wouldn't let you sleep on the couch, let alone leave you to drown in whatever thoughts that made you so down. she goes straight up to you, pulling your arms off your face to see your exhausted state and the way your eyes look so drained. she picked you up off the couch and walked you to the bed.

laying you down, she tucked you in before getting in the sheets right beside you. she scooted in towards you and brought you into her, placing a hand on your head to press into into her chest. you listened to her heart beat as she played with the tips of your hair, the even thumps bringing you to a relaxed state of mind. irene's hand slowly traveled the your upper back, drawing little hearts into your shoulder blades.

she waited til she felt all the tension in your body drift away as you went limp in her arms, completely molded into her body. she kissed the top of your head and held you tightly, knowing you just needed to be in her arms before you could talk about what was wrong. with her arms wrapped around you in such a protective manner, you were lulled to sleep, the last thing heard a small 'i love you' as your eyes shut.

irene knew you like the back of her hand. she knew you just needed some love to make your head forget about such a tiring day.

[hellsitegenetics]

This is going to be basic, but my favorite animals are rabbits. The ears? Straight? Floppy? Yes! Also the floof! Not just the main body fur, but also the tail! Have you ever looked up continental giant rabbits? They're the size of an adult head and torso! And their behavior. They can be cute and cuddly, or energetic with zoomies and binkies, or even little sass masters!

String identified: T gg t ac, t at aa a at. T a? tagt? ? ! A t ! t t t a , t a t ta! a ctta gat at? T' t a at a a t! A t a. T ca ct a c, gtc t a , tt a at!

Closest match: Nymphalis polychloros genome assembly, chromosome: 23 Common name: Large tortoiseshell

[greengyuu]

𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄 - 𝐎𝐓𝟓

-warnings : just floof

-notes : imagining this with beomgyu makes me heart go

HOLDING YOUR HAND ON ROLLAR COSTERS

imagine going to an amusement park with your boyfriend, and being afraid of the rides…

or is it him who’s afraid…?

you decide that.

he still likes holding your hand during these moments.. it gives the two of you a sense of comfort.

YEONJUN, SOOBIN, AND BEOMGYU

IS REALLY PROTECTIVE OF YOU

your his lover.

you don’t need anyone else.

so don’t be surprised when he clings onto you and drags you away from anyone who could steal you away.

no one should be flirty with his precious lover.

(also this is not a yandere relationship, just them being a little clingy with you, also it’s just trust issues.)

BEAOMGYU, AND HUENING KAI

CALLS YOU CUTE PETNAMES

he has the cutest, most tenderest, nicknames for you.

“love, darling, baby.”

it all makes your heart go 10x faster…

he’s so precious istg 🙁🙁

you all ways giggle and smile whenever he does..

and he always returns back a sweet smile.

SOOBIN, YEONJUN, AND HUENING KAI

NOT SO CUTE NICKNAMES

you really expected him to be wholesome?

no, he will straight up call you :

“goober, my booger, etc. (think of other bad nicknames)”

he mostly does it to annoy you… although sometimes he does it just to be silly with his lover.

imagine if you guys are having a wholesome moment where your cuddling and then he just goes like.

“i love you too my booger.”

(my ex boyfriend has done this)

you get mad at him and throw a pillow or whatever..

anywho

BEOMGYU, AND TAEHYUN

[emotionally-damaged-carrot]

Love ur work!! May I pls request Charles Leclerc x Male Reader where we are a super famous singer (like beyonce level famous) and we announce the birth of our first child together via surrogate??? Ty!!

A family of our own

Sry if it's a wee bit too short, did my best, idk how to start it. Hope it's still good, hope you enjoy ✌️

(Didn't proof read)

(Requests are closed)

No warning, just floof :3

"Y/n, cheri?" Charles yelled from the couch of their house.

"Yes?" I yelled back from the kitchen.

"Are you almost done? I wanna talk to you about something important."

"I-is it bad?" I asked as I came into the living room with a tray of food and drinks, and placing it on the table in the middle.

"Depends on how you look at it." Charles said as he sat up straight, seemingly getting serious.

"Go on." I asked now worried as I sat beside him, putting some distance between us.

"Come closer." He said as he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me close, hugging him tight against his body.

"I was thinking, m-maybe we could have a child?"

"W-what?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, a little y/n or a little Charles running around the house causing havoc might be cute." He said with a smile as he lifted my chin to look me in the eyes, my nervous e/c meeting his gentle greens.

"W-well, I'm not opposed to it...But a little Charles might look cuter." I said with a smile as I give him a quick peck on the lips.

"This is why I love you, y/n."

"Love you too."

I said as I got on top of him, and deepened the kiss, food completely forgotten.

—

"As I said before the concert, a surprise will be posted on my IG story after the concert." I said with a huge smile, sweat dripping from my hair and I held the guitar and breathing heavily.

"It's a surprise me, and Charles have talked about a while ago." The crowd went wild as they probably figured out the surprise as I have posted about getting a child prior the world tour.

"Okay, okay, settle down." I said laughing.

I began to play my guitar for the final song, the crowd once again going wild as they recognize the intro.

—

"With that final song, I bid you all farewell, I am in grabe need of a bath and rest. Once again, THANK YOU, MONACO!!!" The echoed of cheers were heard from the neighbouring countries as well.

"And thank you everyone who attended my tours, this is however my final tour for some time." I said sadly, but with a huge grin on my face. "And don't forget the surprise."

(2 days after the concert)

"You think I should announce it?" I asked Charles from my position between his legs my head on his chest and our sleeping 1 year old, Udysses L/n-Leclerc.

"Your choice, bebe, whatever makes you happy. I'm there to support you." He said as he ruffled my hair and gave it a kiss.

"Well... you should probably wrap your arms around Charles junior as well." I said with a chuckle as I reached out for my phone, careful not to disturb his sleep.

Charles laughed as he wrapped his arms around me as I held Udysses carefully with one arm and taking a selfie with the other. I took a couple more before looking for the best one along with Charles.

"pour l'amour de Dieu, they all look perfect, mi amor, because you're both in it." Charles said getting annoyed.

"They need to see the best one." I said as I stared at one picture of us, Charles smiling wide looking down at me and Udysses, his arms around my shoulders as he looked at the camera with squinted eyes. I was smiling wide as well, my eyes closed and baby Udysses sleeping soundly.

"Found it." I said with a grin as I opened Instagram to post the story, only adding music. As I didn't want to ruin the picture with some stupid effects.

"I guess you did." Charles said with a small laugh as I felt his chest rumble.

"Of course I did." I said as I posted the story, seconds later my phone started blowing up, a few congratulations from friends and family and a lot from fans.

"What will happen now?" I asked him as I thought about our future, since we are pretty busy people.

"We'll think about it when it comes to it. Right now, enjoy the moment, mi amor." Charles said as he hugged me close and kissed my hair.

Sorry took some times, hope it was okay ✌️

[alaskan-wallflower]

Hiii do you have any fluffy Soda hcs he’s my favorite:) 🎃

Yes!!

This boy was a SCREECHER as a baby. Like they were fooled with Darry because he was the world’s easiest baby but Soda? Soda was SO not 😭

He was also really clingy as a baby…every time his mom put him down he’d start crying but whenever she’d pick him back up he’d be fine

When he learned how to walk he never stopped. He couldn’t sit still as a kid. Even eating at the table he’d just straight up walk away to run around in circles

Whenever he eats a filling meal he suddenly gets zoomies and Darry/Pony have to chase him around because if he doesn’t get the energy out before bed he’s gonna be up all night yapping to Pony

I keep saying this but he’s got some undiagnosed ADHD going on. His dad did too. So he’s pretty much the one who looks out for Soda the most

He did drama in high school! He was always either the love interest or the comedic relief but he did it because he needed to expend some of his energy and it turned out he was really good at it

He can sing really good. And he can surprisingly keep a beat pretty well

He was probably a band kid. He played in the marching band and whenever Darry was playing he would SCREAM at him (in an encouraging way-Darry will never ever tell Soda but it was SO mortifying)

Not really fluff but after Two Bit he was the most hurt when Darry “almost went Soc” because he would flat out avoid Soda in the hallway and maybe ONCE actually joined Paul in on making fun of Soda (he immediately felt AWFUL when he saw the way Soda visibly deflated and just gave him this “how could you@ look

(I have SO many headcanons for Darry almost going Soc that i’ll yap about if anyone wants 👀)

He has THE fluffiest hair. He never really greased it save prior to rumbles and when he just wants to show off his status but other than that he never does. He’s got floof (all three curtiss’s do…after almost going Soc Darry starts growing his hair long again)

Freckles, freckles, freckles!! This boy has SOOOO many freckles! all over his cheeks and face

He’s a cuddler. A BIG cuddler. He clings to Pony and Pony will just wake up and be like “Soda let me go I gave to go to the bathroom” and he just refuses

Him and Steve sometimes snuggle behind the counters in the DX if nobody’s there

Him and Steve do a lot of that “no homo” stuff-like they’re THOSE friends

He was originally the one who brought Johnny to the gang because he was like “hey you look lonely and now I’m your friend whether you like it or not” and Johnny just went with it

Him and Steve have been friends since birth and Steve will make fun of Soda for being six months younger than him

Soda gets sooooo angry lol

He’s pansexual. He doesn’t care. As long as they’re kind to him and his family and he loves them

He has HORRIBLE taste in women :(

He ends up being the shortest of the three boys but he doesn’t care. Taller brothers = more brothers to cuddle

Hope these are alright!

[slythereen]

i want to discuss how charles is allegedly only 1.5cm shorter than max yet in the photos of them talking to that f4 driver (and on many other occasions), max looks so much taller and broader?? i know charles is a professional athlete and he’s not tiny at all but why does he make himself smaller like that all the time. like what is going on there. just a lot to unpack there psychologically.

i mean ... okay, with max leaning like he is, i guess an argument can be made for him looking taller. idk about much taller. i was actually just thinking about this recently when i saw something on twitter and now i'm going to go on a wild goose chase trying to remember which exact photo it was about, probably

but in the meantime! since we have so much content to study !!

charles has his chin tilted up a little bit here, but he actually looks marginally taller. i think, based on google's profiles at least, they're allegedly both 180. i do think max might actually be a wee bit taller, as suggested by evidence #2 (where max is, predictably, leaning again). onwards!

if you look at this other photo from the same moment as evidence #2...

max looks much taller again, but you can see that charles is learning / has his weight shifted.

a lot of messy angles here and charles is sitting down/leaning over for some of it, BUT, that lower left hand corner where they are both mostly standing straight and the ✨pretty handshake✨ are both suggesting much closer in height.

these two mess with me because they look fairly equal in height here... in both. despite max slouching impressively in the second. i can only conclude that charles is slouching more than it looks like he is, bc otherwise idk how to explain the science of that.

okay so max slouches and charles leans. and then max straightens and charles slouches. ????

mirroring each other's horrendous posture. okay. still looking roughly the same height. pls straighten up.

this seems better. max still has a knee bent a bit, so may be slouching a little. charles looks like he's standing straight, finally. max a smidge taller?

obligatory padel date, because they are conveniently next to each other. both leaning embarrassingly, charles actually looks a bit taller??? but also looks like he is leaning slightly less than max, which would explain it. additional hair floof may also contribute.

okay but charles is leaning significantly more than max, who looks like he is standing straight. and they appear to be the same height here. which... would mean charles is actually a smidge taller, minus the lean? math is not mathing.

conclusion: this information is simply information the world does not want us to have. charles isn't as short as people make it seem, i think, he just... slouches? or something??? like i swear sometimes it looks like he's standing straight but i'll see him next to someone i know he is as tall as / taller than (based on other photos) and be like wait. he must he slouching or something.

lbr there is one undisputed fact and it's that max is broader. like... charles isn't really the delicate slender that he gets characterized as, but he is leaner than max methinks. this is clearly important research.

[alecvolturiswifeforever]

bite 𝜗𝜚 ׅ ۫ felix volturi x reader

warnings: floof

taglist! @your-next-daydream @agirllovespancakes

“Just where do you think you’re going, little miss?” You heard a deep voice from behind you as strong arms wrapped around your waist. You squealed in delight as Felix picked you up and spun you around. Continuing to giggle, he placed you back on your feet and you turned in his arms to look at him.

“Hi love!” You chirped, leaning up on your tiptoes. He immediately knew what you were wanting, leaning down in favour of meeting your lips in a soft kiss. Your smile widened as you pulled away, wrapping your own arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder.

“I miss you.” The words were slightly muffled though he heard it nonetheless and he smiled, a hand moving from your waist to cup the back of your head.

“I miss you too, my little darling. I shall be off duty soon.” He felt you softly stroke and tug at the hairs residing at the base of his neck, purring slightly before he continued “What would you like to do once I am off?”

“Picnic in the garden?” You lifted your head as eyes lit up. Felix felt his heart melt at the look on your face, squeezing you gently and pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Of course, my sweet. Whatever you would like.”

You squealed again as your head found it’s way back into the crook of his neck. He felt you press soft kisses there, though he pulled away suddenly at your giggles.

“Did you just bite me?!” He looked at you incredulously, a smirk on his face.

“Maybe…” You smiled mischievously before attempting to make a run for it.

“Oh no you don’t.” He grabbed you by your waist “Come back here, my love, it should be me who is biting a pretty little thing such as yourself”

It was his turn to bury his head into your neck, playfully nipping your sweet spot and you laughed loudly.

“Stop it! That tickles!”

You squirmed in an attempt to remove him from your neck, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest before he looked at you, pressing a final kiss to your lips.

“Right run along now, I have to go. I shall see you soon, mia amore.”

You did just that. Running straight into the gardens to await his return.

[autisticlancemcclain]

“I know, buddy, I know.” Keith scratches behind his big dumb dog’s ears, pressing a million kisses to his forehead because he’s got Black to himself for the next day and there’s no one (Shiro) to clown him for it. Kosmo barks excitedly, wagging his floofy tail so fast it beats against the dashboard and system controls. Keith laughs, moving his scratching fingers down the wolf’s head and neck and to his back, where he likes to be scratched best.

“I know you’re hyper, huh?” he coos, blowing a raspberry. “But that’s what you get. You know you always get too excited when you hang out with Lance. You should have stayed with me.”

At the mention of the Red Paladin’s name, Kosmo starts howling, bounding out from Keith’s lap and tumbling to the floor, nails clacking against the metal as he flips around Black’s cockpit.

Keith huffs. “You raise a wolf from a pup, showering him in treats and affection, and you still fall second best to the first guy he meets who teaches him to fetch. Figures.”

It’s ridiculous, is what it is. Two straight years together on the space whale, but Kosmo lays eyes on Lance for one measly second and falls in love. He’s genuinely obsessed with the guy, and it doesn’t help that Lance is unbelievably smug about it, indulging Kosmo’s every whim and burst of affection just to grate on Keith. He has on twelve seperate occasions radioed the Black Lion to talk to Kosmo only, completely ignoring Keith.

“I can’t blame ya,” Keith says quietly. His voice is still a little teasing, still a little exasperated, but even he can hear the gooey fondness in it. “Lance is just that good, huh?”

Kosmo barks again, loud and fast, then flashes as he blips out of existence then back into existence right on Keith’s lap. Keith chokes as 200 pounds of floof is suddenly deposited on his person, but recovers quickly. (Kosmo will never remember that he is no longer a little puppy. Keith is just going to have to get used to having his lungs crushed.)

He starts to stroke Kosmo’s fur again, gently this time, calming him down.

“I should say something,” he says, more to himself than to his dog. “Ugh. I mean, it’s Lance, right? He’s my best friend. He’ll most definitely tease me, but he won’t, like, mock me or anything. He’s good like that. He knows exactly when to be serious, like during that last gala thing we had when we landed on a planet a while back. He just knew I was feeling off, just like that.”

Keith buried his face in Kosmo’s fur, hiding his smile. “He’s just…everything, you know? I’m always thinking about him. I have been for years. Hell, I talked about him so much on that stupid whale that you recognised him before you even met him, buddy. That’s objectively bonkers. But I can’t…” He sighs, leaning back in the pilot seat and staring unseeingly through the windshield. A red dot flashes gently at the bottom corner, but he pays it no mind.

“He’s sweet when no one’s looking. And even when people are looking, sometimes. And I’ll die before I even imply it in his direction, but he’s funny, too. And his fucking brain, dear God, that man could outwit anyone if he was under enough pressure. He saved our asses more than once when we were stumbling our way through this co-leading thing in the beginning. And anyone with eyes can tell that he’s hot.” Keith’s ears burn a little, thinking of the Coalition videos. “Seriously hot. And…leggy.”

He cracks up, embarrassed giggles bubbling up his throat. His next words are muffled by the hand he has pressed to his face. “God, I want him to fuck me up.”

Kosmo raises his head from where it was resting on Keith’s knee, staring at him in what Keith can only assume is judgment.

“Shut up,” Keith says hotly. “You once farted so loud you scared yourself and cried for ten minutes. You don’t get to judge me about being embarrassing.”

Keith is losing it. He is defending his character to a dog. He groans loudly, dragging his hand down his face.

“I should tell him, shouldn’t I,” he mutters. “Just — come out with it. ‘Leandro Esposita-McClain, I am in love with you.’ Straight to the point. Rip off the band-aid.”

Kosmo yips quietly. Keith snorts.

“Yeah, you’re right. That’s crazy. He’s my friend, I don’t want to ruin things. I’ll just suffer in silence the next time he looks at me and the fuckin’ sun bleeds into his eyes and makes them look like golden honey or whatever. Jesus.” He reaches for his book and props it open, muttering to himself. “It’s always the fuckin’ pretty ones that get me, huh?”

Kosmo barks loudly in what can only be agreement, and Keith scoffs, flicking him on the shout. “Yeah, yeah, you lug. Bug off with the teasing and let me read in peace, alright? I’ll tell him someday. He doesn’t need to know now.”

.

.

.

(A beep echoes through the Red Lion’s cockpit as her paladin slams on the ‘call end’ button, eyes wide and chest heaving, having listened curiously when he’d been radioed out of nowhere mid-conversation between the Bladk Paladin and his dog. And then listened in shock as the Black Paladin had brought up him. Brought up being in love with him, with his heart and his eyes and his legs, apparently.

Red blooms on his cheeks.)

———

based on this post by @petricorah

[lafayette-paw-arts]

have you thought about their morning routine & sleeping habits? (who's an early riser, messiest hair, who sleeps where etc)

Aw! We love domestic shit!

Vox is always the middle, who is on his right depends on who won the competition the night before. They always have a blanket but they end up using Val's wings as the blanket more often than not.

Valentino is the early riser actually, but he hates it. He'll just snuggle back into the other two and try to fall back asleep but he always fails. Once Velvette wakes up he'll accept defeat and slip out of bed with her.

Velvette has the messiest hair (given the fact she's the only one with hair really). Her and Valentino will head straight for the bathroom to get themselves together. She'll do a first pass through her hair with the brush while Valentino tames his neck and wing floof and runs a quick brush through his antenna. After which she'll sit down and Val will do her hair in whatever style he decides for the day, she almost always loves it, if she doesn't he'll just do something else.

The two of them will move to the kitchen, leaving the sleeping prince to have the bed to himself. Velvette will play music on her phone and they'll both work on making breakfast (which is the only shit they can cook) bobbing their heads or dancing to the music off Velvette's phone while they cook.

Vox will usually wake up once the smell of bacon hits him, heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day which starts with cleaning off his screen. After he's done getting ready he will get dressed and head to the kitchen where breakfast is usually almost done or just finished (he does have perfect timing lol)

Sometimes he'll pause in the doorway to watch the other two move about in the kitchen, sometimes taking pictures or videos if they're dancing together.

They'll always eat breakfast together and then one by one they leave to start their days.

Vox is always the last to leave, once the other two are gone he'll clean up the kitchen, putting the dishes away and starting the dishwasher before he leaves to start his work day.

Hope this satisfies ya!

[a-twistedheartslonging]

*Clears throat* Speaking of happy trails which guys do you think have them?

My happy trail-loving self would say all of them but...realistically certain guys wouldn't be able to grow much in the way of body hair and others prob get rid of everything.

Straight up those beasty boys Jack, Leona, and Ruggie would have them. To me it makes sense beastmen would naturally be hairier, plus i think they would have fur in places regardless of that nonhuman au i got where their even more beastlike.

They did jack so dirty not giving him under arm fur floof.

Ramble rant aside-

All three of those boys have them but Jack's is thicker. Ruggie isn't as hairy as the other two but still has one.

Ace, Deuce, Trey, Floyd, Kalim, Rook, Idia, Mal, Silver Sebek have em.

The other guys just either shave it off or aren't really able to grow one or at most just get a little bit of fuzz.

For some reason, the whole naturally having unnatural hair colors thing just makes it hotter to me too.

Suggestive/kind of nsfw ramble/rant⬇️

I wouldn't say I have a body hair fetish, depending on the guy and how much he has I might think ew.

But man, Japan just makes all the guys perfectly smooth unless it's for bara stuff which is disappointing since it's a natural and sexy thing to have.

When I look at certain guys like Trey, Idia Rook, and the beasty boys I just wanna pull up that shirt, down his pants, and get a look at what he has going on.

Knowing Trey would have a green bush makes me giggle.

I know Idia wouldn't have fire pubes and they would prob just be regular blue hair like his eyebrows, but remember, his eyebrows also turn red like his hair when made so if you ride him while his angry you could say... you got a hot seat.

Aaaaaah Jack, the big dude runs hot so he would have his shirt off often when training. So much to look at and so many opportunities to do so. I would bury my face in the crotch floof.

[klonoadreams]

I SAW THE TRUTH ABOUT SCULLY J GRAVES ON TWITTER vhwdjkvhkjrwfhvjfebv, i'mma readmore this shit until enough days pass before I straight up just spoil tag it

and while i"m like...angsty on one end...

ON THE OTHER END, I'm laughing my ass off, because Yuu (ewe)'s Ghost Dad Squad at the Ramshackle Dorm, are like giving Scully the stink eye, since I do what I want, and his ghost is already subtly haunting Ramshackle.

listen, if he can kiss the back of everyone's hands post getting out of the book, then I can just yeet his ass into Ramshackle and set up for the reveal of his ass on this long, long boy.

but also, did Scully's ghost really just wait all those years to see us again, before yeeting that book at us so that a part of him can see us again??

HMMM THEORIES THEORIES, i'm just like "damn, his card really just gonna reveal ramshackle lore, huh? lmaoo"

i'm trying to make the most of this reveal by joking it off, but I'm genuinely also sad cuz like...the same dork we came across was lonely all those years ago, before he managed to actually bring the joy and celebration of Halloween to the rest of Twisted Wonderland so that it wasn't some minor celebration anymore.

And I'm just gonna yeet Floof into that, and like, you better fucking believe Scully is helping out during the Halloween week, when the MagiCam Monsters show up and cause problems.

Floof and Scully really do be the ghost dream team lmao.