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superhoeva-archived · 2 years

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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 || 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 "𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟐" (𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐱

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you start your work in the lab. thor makes you cry. erik helps you feel better.

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve rogers, bucky barnes, m'baku, sam wilson, bruce banner, james rhodes, kingo sunen, thor odinson, loki odinson (mentioned), erik killmonger, pietro maximoff, druig, and you!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we’ve made it to the smut! i'm so excited because i think it turned out pretty well, but we’ll see lol. super special thanks to those who voted in both the polls; you’re the reason this chapter even happened! i hope you enjoy and pretty please tell me what you like/if you liked it/etc. (this ended up being way longer than i intended, and i hope it’s not a problem!) enjoy! <3 (gif credit: @scerek)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): language, a lil angsty (thanks a lot thor), some fluff, actual facts about antarctica (i hope you like them, i thought they were pretty interesting myself!), nervous!Bruce, mean!thor, recreational drug use, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), hints of praise kink, dirty talking, mention of bodily fluids, 18+/minors dni (if I missed anything, pretty please let me know!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.1k (proud of myself for doing this all in one day!)

“There she is!”

Both Banner and Rhodes look up at Kingo’s announcement, hearts racing when they see you standing at the entrance. The older doctors turn away from the tools they’re tinkering with to greet you with welcoming smiles.

“Morning, guys,” you grin, chunky laptop, notepad, and pencil in hand as you travel to an open space on one of the counters. “Mind if I get settled right here?”

Rhodes answers with a shake of his head. “Not at all. We cleared it off just for you.”

You smile at him as a thank you, setting down your laptop and other materials. There are too many new tools and equipment that you’re enamored with to notice Dr. Banner staring at you from the other side of the room.

Microscopes, test tubes, and beakers are only a few of the objects you spot throughout the lab. Suddenly, the feeling that you might break something begins to overwhelm you, which Kingo notices right away.

“I know this room can feel like… a lot… but it’s not that bad once you get used to it,” he promises in a delicate tone. “And I know that’s pretty easy for me to see, but don’t worry. If you have any questions at all, just ask me or Doctor Banner or Doctor, Rhodes, okay? Any questions at all.”

Kingo’s reassuring words allow you to finally let out the deep breath you’ve been holding in since you rolled out of bed this morning. Unfortunately, your breath gets caught again when Kingo places a warm hand on your back before returning to the microscope he was readying when you came in.

Shaking off the shivers and tingling skin, you turn to your laptop––newly provided after M.T. Rogers sent the bi-weekly request form to the mainland––and open it.

“Ready?” Dr. Banner calls out after watching you get settled. Looking up from the newly opened document, you give him a bright smile and thumbs up. “Alright,” he nods with a grin threatening to break out on his face.

Come one, Bruce. Get it together.

“So today, Doctor Rhodes and I are going to start analyzing some soil samples collected by our people on the ground. While we get everything set up and started, I think it would be best to start with Doctor Kingo. He’s finishing up his study of a dead rhinovirus from a sample we collected from Barnes after he fell ill a couple of weeks ago.”

Kingo winks at you playfully from behind the microscope at Banner’s directions, and both you and Rhodes let out a laugh.

“Hey,�� Rhodes calls out, “if he starts to bother you, just let me know. I’ll take care of him, alright sweetheart?”

The playful threat put a grin on everyone’s face, and the sight warms your heart. You’re definitely going to have some fun in here.

It’s dinner time.

Almost everyone, except Loki (for obvious reasons) and yourself (since you’re just now finishing up your laundry), is scattered around the living room or kitchen. M.T. Rogers sits on the couch with Erik and Barnes, Wilson and Pietro in the recliners across from them.

The both of them pass a large blunt back and forth, happy to be able to relax after a long day of working to fix one of the heaters.

Thor is busy finishing up dinner for everyone with the help of M’Baku, (the only other person willing to help out in the kitchen for the moment) who has to keep talking Thor out of adding extra salt to Banner’s plate just to see the look on his face.

Speaking of Banner, he just so happens to be at the end of a tense match of pool against Rhodes. Kingo watches with a frown on his face, regretting putting tonight’s money on the self-proclaimed pool great: Rhodes.

Druig is already seated at the table, nose deep in one of his books that he’s read at least twenty times.

It’s only when you walk into the room that everyone’s attention is drawn from whatever they’re doing. You met with a bombardment of warm greetings from all but one; Thor. The blond stares at you for half of a second before whipping back around to stir the large pots of soup (you all had the choice of chicken noodle or tortilla), only one thing on his mind.

You don’t get a chance to formally part with Erik before a booming voice forces the majority of your attention.

“And she has arrived! Welcome, new archivist!”

The voice is revealed to belong to Thor once he enters the room. His arms are spread out wide and inviting, as is the warm smile that sits across his face. You let out a small squeak when he envelops you in a tight hug, raising you a few inches off the ground before he decides to let go. Once he pulls away and gets a good look at your face, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes darken. He doesn’t notice that he’s staring until Wilson, rather loudly, clears his throat.

“My apologies,” Thor starts lowly, “it’s just that... no one told me that you’d be so lovely.”

Your eyebrows raise at his statement, now wanting nothing more than to get out from all of the (what you now realize are) heated gazes around you. You barely find the strength to stutter out an answer.

“Um, thank you,” you breathe out quietly, eyes not able to leave Thor’s. “You know what, I should probably go ahead and unpack. I have a feeling that jetlag is gonna set in pretty soon, and I wanted to finish before I crash for the night.”

You’re too focused on the act of grabbing your bag to notice how Thor’s expression drops into one of regret. Your eagerness to leave the room after his remark has him feeling that he’s crossed a line, and he suddenly fills with the urge to leave you be.

“If everyone will excuse me, I should be getting back to the kitchen.”

That moment has played over and over again in his head for the entirety of your stay, the man unable to notice that, not only did you enjoy the warm welcome but also that your eagerness to get away had nothing to do with him.

“Thor,” M’Baku calls out (unknowingly to Thor for the third time), finally catching the attention of a distracted Thor. The pilot holds a large stack of bowls and stares at him along with everyone else, who is already seated at the table.

Thor clears his throat, mumbling out a quick, “sorry.”

“Thor, why don’t you serve our newest member first?” Pietro suggests smugly from his seat next to you, arm hanging against the back of your chair. “She is the lady of the house after all.”

“Oh, please don’t feel like you have to do that,” you laugh nervously to Pietro, but M’Baku is speaking before anyone else gets the chance to say anything.

“Very well,” he nods, looking over at you. “Which would you like?”

With all of the attention in the room now on you, this decision becomes one of the hardest you’ve ever made in your life. “Um, I don’t know. They both smell so good––”

“Chicken noodle or tortilla soup? It’s not that hard of a decision.”

Everyone freezes at the tone of Thor’s voice, turning and gazing at him like he’s grown a few extra heads. M.T. Rogers and Druig, in particular, look at him with a certain disdain.

You have to swallow before meekly answering,” tortilla, please.”

For some reason, Thor hasn’t taken the time to realize his unnecessarily rough tone of voice. He’s too preoccupied with getting this interaction with you out of the way so he can’t embarrass himself like he did when meeting you any further.

Great job, Thor.

He scoops the soup into the bowl, quite messily due to his shaking hands. However, you, along with every other person in the room (except Erik) mistake his vigor as something with malicious intent as payback for whatever you’ve done to offend the man.

Barnes hasn’t looked away from you this entire time, his heart breaking at the deflated look on your face. He becomes even more confused when Thor marches over and forcefully sets the bowl in front of you, who flinches slightly at the drops that splash out and hit the table.

Wide eyes and irate expressions fill the room, all of which you ignore as you stand. “I think I’ll eat in my room tonight.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Rogers attempts to assure, standing as well with a kind outstretch of the hand. “Why doesn’t everyone just––”

“No, it’s alright, sir,” you nod, quickly grabbing your bowl of soup and a nearby spoon. “I have some work to finish typing up anyway.”

And just like that, you’re gone before anyone else could try and convince you to stay. The rest of dinner is silent for the most part, not even Pietro having anything to lighten the mood with.

Only Wilson, Erik, and Barnes notice how little M.T. Rogers eats at dinner tonight, but they don’t say anything about it. Thor doesn’t each much either, mentally preparing himself for the one-on-one meeting he already knows he’s going to have in Rogers’ office later on tonight.

It’s only an hour later that Erik finds the time to check on you.

You’re too busy wiping your eyes to notice when he eases open your door. Erik stares with sad eyes at the way you’re curled into yourself. After a few moments, you still don’t move. Erik sighs.

“Did you know that there used to be dinosaurs here?”

You don’t respond to Erik’s question, busying yourself with picking at a loose thread on your thick sweatshirt. He smiles a little to himself before continuing.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. Millions of years ago, the piece of land we now call Antarctica was as hot as Melbourne, and it was inhabited by dinosaurs.” It takes a long second, but you finally look over at Erik with curious eyes. He celebrates the victory silently.

“There was no ice… no penguins. Just a bunch of forests and some big ass dinosaurs.”

“Really?”

Your question is quiet, voice slightly wobbly as you wipe away the last of your tears. Erik nods, closing the door and taking a gentle seat on the side of your bed. “Yeah. There are even fossils under all this ice that proves it.”

Erik lets his words sit with you for a moment, taking the chance to look around your room. His eyes run over the small trinkets of your personality scattered around the room.

A tiny portable radio sits next to a few CDs. (A few hits from Stevie Wonder, Fleetwood Mac, and Olivia-Newton John from what he could tell.) A print of Darth Vader on an old TIME magazine cover. A Rubik’s cube that’s a long way from being solved.

He doesn’t mention your unopened laptop. Or the now-cold bowl of should that sits on your desk.

“Can you tell me more facts about Antarctica?”

Erik looks at you before carefully scooting closer to where you are still scrunched up near the head of your bed. You don’t flinch when he moves, which he takes as an invitation to stay.

“On average, Antarctica is the windiest place on Earth,” he rattles off, and you huff out a laugh through your nose.

“I could have guessed that one,” you tell Erik,” I thought I was gonna get picked up and blown away if M’Baku wasn’t holding onto me on our way inside.”

A small laugh leaves the geologist, his smile working as the perfect distraction from Thor’s unexplainably cold attitude. “Another, please.”

Erik thinks before stating, “15,750 feet under the ice is a buried mountain range; the Gamburtsev Mountains, to be specific, and it stretches across the entire continent.”

As the geologist continues to oblige your request, a small spark of courage strikes your chest somewhere between Erik’s ramblings about the discovery of Antarctica and diamond dust. It’s probably the passion in his voice that draws you in close enough to touch his thigh with yours, or maybe something else you’re too inattentive to attempt to figure out.

Erik doesn’t realize how close the two of you are until he catches your warm gaze. Pausing his sentence surrounding how Antarctica can be classified as a desert, Erik turns to you with a sheepish smile.

“I started rambling, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I liked it,” you grin, bumping your shoulder with his. “Helped me feel better and I learned some new facts about Antarctica that I can trick the other guys into thinking I know all on my own.”

This pulls a chuckle from Erik, but your mentioning of the other men quickly reminds him of why he came to check on you in the first place.

“I feel like I should tell you that Thor isn’t usually like that,” Erik starts, almost stopping when he sees you deflate into the sad version of yourself he was met with when he arrived. “He only acts like that when he’s up in his head, worrying about something. It ain’t have nothing to do with you personally.”

While Erik’s words should be reassuring, they aren’t.

“I haven’t even spoken to the guy on more than three occasions, and he already hates me…” you laugh bitterly, nearly turning back to the loose string as an even more terrible thought pops into your head. “And, after today, I’m pretty sure he’s not the only one who doesn’t really like me.”

Erik’s eyebrows furrow at your sentence, and he finds himself turning to get a better look at you. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

You sigh, thinking back to the day’s earlier events. “Nothing, never mind.”

The pointed look you earn from Erik has you whining out another, “nothing, I swear. It’s just… apart from Thor, everyone has been really nice to me, but after tonight I can’t help but think they’re faking it. I mean, you saw how Thor was when we met, right?”

Erik nods, mind filling with the memory of a warm and flirty Thor.

“And then tonight, as you know, he was practically the complete opposite. He wouldn’t even look me in the eyes.”

“Not following, baby girl,” Erik breaths out, but you’re too overwhelmed to even notice the nickname. “Why would you think someone else doesn’t like you––”

“It’s not just someone else, it’s everyone,” you exclaim worriedly. “What if, for the entire time that I’ve been here, all of you were just pretending to be super kind because, instead of me applying for myself, Fury was the one that sent down my application? And now, not only do you not like me because I’ve intruded on the unit you all have got down here, but you have to fake actually liking me because you’re afraid I might run back a tattle-tale to our boss’ boss––”

“Hey.”

The word was short quiet, but commanding enough for you to stop. A second goes by before Erik breathes out a laugh with a shake of his head.

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

You furrow your eyebrows at Erik, unsure of what he means. “What?”

“I said you’re crazy and you wanna know why?”

A nod from you has Erik taking a long sigh. “I can wholeheartedly assure you that there isn’t a single dude down here that doesn’t like you. Trust me. Even Loki, which says a lot. Nobody’s faking that shit, I promise you that.”

Your eyes are wide and innocent as you look at Erik, a hint of relief in them as well.

“Really?”

“Hell yeah,” he nods, not noticing that he’s inching closer. “You’re obviously well equipped for the job, whether Fury was the one who sent in your papers or not. And you’re actually pleasant to be around. You’re helpful and attentive, which only makes everyone’s job easier.”

At this point, Erik’s voice has worked its way down to a horse rasp, and you’re hanging on to every letter. While your hands stand in your lap, they can’t help but fiddle with the bottom hem of your sweatshirt. You seem to be under some kind of spell as Erik continues, his lips now only a breath away from yours.

“Your presence is new and refreshing, in a way that makes people like you as soon as you step into the room. Everything about you shines with a light that brightens up this little hole in the ground that we gotta work in. Not to mention that… you’re beautiful, and, even in these big ass sweatshirts you wear, sexy as fuck.”

You don’t have the strength to look away from Erik’s face, and if you did it would only be to peek down at his lips.

“I don’t believe you,” you whisper back. It’s clearly a lie and not a good one, but the tension is clouding your judgment.

A short chuckle leaves Erik and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“For real?” He questions and you shake your head. “Then can I show you?”

You don’t even pretend to think about your answer, quickly nodding at the request. A breath of chilly air fills up your chest when Erik delicately reaches under both your sweatshirt and undershirt, his cold fingers caressing the warmed skin.

“Can you lay back for me, baby?”

Erik keeps his hand on your stomach as you lean back onto your head, his dick twitching at how easily you obey. He looks over you with a bite of his lip, the sight of you stretched out for him even better than he could have imagined. His fingers fell like something close to feathers as they trail from under your shirt to the hem of your pants.

Your body forces you to inhale when he shuffles the material down your legs and peels off your socks, all the while never breaking the intense eye contact. A long shiver runs through you when the frosty air of the base envelopes your exposed skin, but it’s quickly dampened when Erik runs his large hands over your naked things.

A quiet hiss leaves you when Erik then removes your panties and he smirks at the sound. Your disrobed lips squeeze around nothing, clit jumping when Erik leys out the tiniest of groans.

“Damn,” he whispers, effectively bewitched at how the very middle of your pussy glistens, even in the dull light of the fluorescent bulbs that hang from the ceiling of your room. “Prettiest pussy I’ve seen in a long time.”

A tiny smile falls across your face at his words, the compliment causing you to clench again. Erik glances up at you one last time before taking the pad of his thumb and pressing it directly onto your clit.

Your mouth falls open at the feeling that shoots throughout your core, a heavy breath leaving you when he begins to circle his thumb. “Ah…”

“Look at you,” Erik grins, returning his other hand to your thigh. Pushing your legs open a little further, he teases, “I ain’t even done nothing yet, and you’re already squirming and shit.”

Your heart speeds up even more when Erik lowers his lips just outside your slit, pressing a gentle kiss onto the slick skin. His tongue then slides out of his mouth, wetly massaging one side of your clit while his thumb works the other side. Both of you moan when you grind your hips up into his mouth, Erik taking the reaction as a sign to keep going.

You whine when Erik removes his thumb, but he quickly makes up for it with a long, broad lick over your clit. Erik’s breaths are short and heavy as his mouth sinks into you, and he only pulls away to push the tip of his tongue inside you.

The moans that pour out of you bounce off the concrete walls surrounding you, your back arching and lifting from the mattress as his tongue speeds up.

“Right there,” you wail, Erik chuckling when he has to use a hand to press you back down. He continues pleasuring the same spot for a few more moments before pulling away. He takes a deep breath, eyes never leaving your soaking center.

“So fucking messy,” Erik admires, giving another sucking peck to your clit before taking one of his hands and running them up and down just outside your slit. “Fucking love it.”

Another long, waning moan leaves you when two thick fingers slowly push inside of you, Erik letting out a sound of his own at the noise your pussy makes. “Oh, my God.”

When his hand bottoms out, you can’t help but try to squirm away at the overwhelming feeling.

“Stay still for me, okay? Unless you want me to stop…”

A quick shake of your head has Erik laughing as he leans back down to circle your clit with his tongue. His fingers slide in and out of you easily, wet squelching noises signally just how wet he’s making you.

Erik’s tongue and fingers soon fall into a beautiful rhythm, the way your mewls and moans grow in volume proving how good it feels. You don’t remember when your hips begin to move back and forth, but you’re now fucking himself on his face and fingers.

The burn from his mustache and beard is the best kind and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of the feeling.

“Doing so good for me,” Erik mumbles against your pussy, ignoring how hard he’s become at the sight and sounds of you. “So fucking good, baby.”

You groan at the praise, but don’t have the chance to respond before you’re cut off by Erik’s fingers finally grazing that special spot. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you attempt to grind on his fingers harder.

His name sounds something of a chant as it repeatedly falls from your lips, Erik falling in love with the way it sounds coming from you. He finds himself unable to contain his moans, especially when he feels your pull of his short locks.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growls out, your intense squeezing around him signaling that you are getting close.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimper out, involuntarily pushing his face deeper into your wetness. Erik obeys the command wordlessly, speeding both his tongue and fingers. Breath speeding and head thrown back, it’s the slight suction Erik creates with his mouth that finally pushes you over the edge.

The sounds that fill the room––moans from you and Erik, the smacking of his tongue and lips, the squelching––only inflate the rush of pleasure causing your entire body to jerk and shake. Erik finds himself having to hold back his own orgasm that threatens to leak out of him, wanting this moment to be only about you. Making you feel good.

“Shit, just like that, baby girl,” Erik whispers, the slowed movements of his fingers helping you ride out your high. “Fucking beautiful.”

It’s only when your breaths have slowed that Erik pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy, A short gasp leaves your lips at the emptiness. You take a few more seconds to lie still, drunk on the floaty feeling that currently casts your body.

“Come here,” you whisper to Erik, who raises over you immediately. Your hands reach out to sit on both of his cheeks as you pull him into a wet kiss. Both of your tongues dance beautifully together, and you can’t find yourself to be bothered by the traces of yourself that still sit atop his tongue. Erik deepens the kiss and groans when he feels you reach down and squeeze his aching cock through his sweatpants.

“Nah,” Erik breathes out after pulling away from the kiss, “don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of that later. Right now’s about you, baby.”

You think for a moment before sighing, “fine. But you have to promise to let me make it up to you later.”

Erik’s voice gets caught in his chest when you don’t wait for an answer, instead grabbing the fingers that had previously been inside of you and sticking them into your mouth. Erik watches with hooded eyes are you suck off your juices, having to take a long breath when he feels your tongue ring back and forth around the digits.

You give him one last suck before letting go with a pop, giving him the most intense puppy dog eyes you can muster in your post-orgasm haze.

“Pretty please?”

Erik licks his lips, quietly whispering back, “fuck yeah. Just tell me when and where.”

You smile at his answer, giving him one last peck before laying back down on the bed. “Do you have any more weird facts about Antarctica?”

Erik grins.

#marvel #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger imagine #steve rogers x reader #thor odinson x reader #loki odinson x reader #m'baku x reader #bruce banner x reader #james rhodes x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #druig x reader #kingo x reader #warmth #au: warmth #simone writes

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verawhisk · 9 days

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You are safe. The winds of fate blow you to the warmest of hearths in the most cordial of inns. The touch of the sun comforts your flesh, but never burns it.

#i just like to imagine how warm halsin must be. and how nice he must smell ^^#halstarion #modern au #... but theyre still elves hehe. happy little elves #halsin #astarion #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bloodhoney #bloodbear #my art #ppl are always like 'halstarion makes no sense' but all astarion desires is warmth and safety and who embodies that? exactly

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 1 month

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Also, totally not me grieving, but what if Ruin fucked up and just managed to turn several trillion people and animatronics into cats instead of collapsing their dimensions.

So, then, after Solar 'dies' Moon is just standing screaming meanwhile newly kitten Solar is pressing his face against Moons legs in confusion because he's tiny and cold on the floor and doesn't know how to move besides wriggling like a worm.

#sun and moon show #sams #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #kitten solar au #fnaf ruin eclipse #fnaf moon #fnaf solar #ruin: *fucks up so bad he turns solar into a newborn kitten*#moon: bestie are you a furry worm?#sun: moon he's just a kitten like...newborn kitten. newborn kittens need warmth hold him idiot!#snoweytrashposts #snoweytalks #snoweyrambles #snoweyrants #tw cursing #tw death mention

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amielot · 8 months

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warmth.

bonus:)

#horse girl au #the sandman #dream is a horse with a knife #huddle for warmth trope #dreamling #centaur!dream #centaurs #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the art tag #babies #cw blood

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doctorsiren · 4 months

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Silly Little Monster AU ft. Dadworth and Kay

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puppetmaster13u · 9 months

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What if instead of being batman

Mothman

Would the robins still be robins? Who knows.

Mothman is definitely fluffier and might be seen less often than canon batman but honestly who knows.

I do want to say that the robins are based off of other moths and butterflies whenever they start doing their own thing.

For example Nightwing could be based off of a blue morpho

#batman #dcu #batfam #Batman au #Mothman #Okay but bruce definitly keeps the spikes on his arm #Maybe has some on his boots too #The ring of fluff is for warmth #Somehow he's still terrifying despite being based off smol fluffy creachur #The kids still hide in the cape #It's very warm and feels safe #Jason is definitely based off those corpse butterflies #Y'know the ones

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shummthechumm · 8 months

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"son, i could move the sky for you"

so...midnight and sol in the rewrite... (more info below the cut!)

☆

in the scorched ruins of a long abandoned ravine awaits an elderly badger. for seasons, midnight retraced the ancient claw-marks of those before this time; fading echoes of now forgotten spirits. every night she patrols the worn stone, accompanied only by the distant pelt of stars above her.

the low humming of wind bouncing off the gorge walls was scarcely broken--be it by a passing critter or occasional loner--but tonight, something was different.

she follows the shrill wailing--lumbering after it with more energy than she had showcased in moons--down the ragged cliff edge, and into the hollowed out stone. there lay a scrawny cat--a kitten. midnight's ears itch at it's mewling, and her throat tightens.

she reaches out a clawed paw, and pulls the shivering scrap towards herself. the kit whimpers still, but unscrews it's eyes. brilliant sunburnt irises burn into her own; and a warmth she had long been deprived melted the aches of age away--if only for a moment.

those pools of yellow observed her curiously. after a heartbeat, the child nuzzled deeper into her wiry coat.

how long had it been since held new life? how long had it been since was held by someone?

regardless of the answer, she couldnt let go now.

☆

i love sad old people

Original/Alt. Version here:

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ahllohehn · 1 month

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I fucking broke my laptop (I CANT DRAW DIGITALLY ANYMORE) so everyone is now obligated to hear about my primordial boyfriends scarian au

because i need some way to cope

#scarian #hermit shipping #hermitcraft #gtws fanart #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #scarian au #traditional art #grian #grian mc #grian minecraft #desert duo #god are you there can you give me my laptop back #the earth bathed in the warmth of the sun and he had never loved anything more #that was my attempt at being poetic!#as you can see im no writer so ! haha this is why this AU IS NEVER GONNA BE FLESHED OUT

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pitruli · 1 year

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It’s been a while, but finally drew my frozen watcher grian again!

I’m still working on making a fun plot that works for the character (it’s like, more than 50% non canon compliant haha), but it’s gonn be fucking epic, and angsty (i hope haha)

#reshie.art #warmth of the winter sun #wows au

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lixxpix · 2 months

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burn- lee minho (l.mh)

| spotify playlist to listen to while reading^^

| summary: "you really think you can charm your way out of anything, don't you?" minho sighed, eyebrows pinched as he drove you back home.

"it's worked so far, hasn't it?" you grinned, chin in the palm of your hand as you stared out the window.

"one day, you'll meet your match."

| warnings: angst, bad parenting, daddy issues lol, cursing, drunk people, physical fights, blood, comfort and fluff tho, reader is a bit stupid while drunk but minho is her protector (we love a protective lino), lots of comfort and fluff i swear

| pairings: badboy/biker/college/honestly idk what to classify him as!leeknow x reader

| word count: 9.9k

| author's note: i decided to make it a proper story/fic with capitalisation and punctation this time! i realised my other fics are written in my texting style much like the style i am writing this note to you in rn, so hope u enjoy this format more or if you just want drabbles. i had to write this because hot badboy protective leeknow has been in my head for days lmao. enjoy luvs!

Minho sighed as he wove through crowds of sweaty, drunk people grinding against each other like horny animals. However, he kept his attention focused on you, trying to find you amidst the sea of bodies in a dingy, dark, and frankly overcrowded club. Eyes narrowing as he finally caught a glimpse of you, sitting at a bar drunkenly flirting with some idiot of a man.

"Y/n." He kept his gaze firmly trained on you, grabbing on to your arm tightly. You turned around, a scowl on your face until you saw who it was. "Lino!" you beamed, words slurring together as you tried to stand up, but unfortunately stumbling due to you deciding to wear six-inch heels to the club tonight. Minho's hand darted out, supporting you by the elbow, just barely saving you from completely toppling over.

"We need to go, it's late. Chaeryoung and the rest have already left." His lips thinned into a line, raising his eyebrows as you pouted up at him.

"But I wanna stay," you whined, tugging at his elbow in an effort to go back to the bar you sat at not too long ago.

"We don't have time for this, you're clearly wasted and we need to go. Don't argue with me." He sighed, eyebrows pinching together as you whined and protested.

"B-but- I wanna drink more, plus the guy at the bar said he would buy me drinks if I talked to him," you stared pleadingly up at him with your best doe eyes.

Just as you finished your sentence, right on cue, a man walked up, placing a hand on your shoulder. He looked menacing, rich, and was staring at you in a way Minho definitely did not like, he decided.

"Hey love, where did you go to? We didn't finish our conversation earlier," the man grinned, bending down to whisper in your ear, and Minho didn't miss the way you shivered the moment his hand slipped from your shoulder to your waist and the minuscule distance you tried putting between yourself and the man. "O-oh, nothing, I was just talking to my friend right here," you batted your eyelashes at the man in an attempt to make him think you were interested, not wanting him to attack you if you told him you honestly just wanted him to fuck off. The man was clearly a lot different now, his nice persona at the bar could have almost fooled you, you had only started to dislike him when he placed his hands on your shoulder.

"Look, mate, I'm not in the mood to be fighting with someone else right now. Get your hands off her and fuck off. Y/n, we're leaving." Minho gritted out, taking your arm and guiding you to his side as you cowered behind Minho like a baby deer.

"What the fuck? You told me your name was Yena!" the man looked at you, rage and fury in his eyes as he took a step towards you.

Minho's instincts immediately kicked in, pushing you behind him and stepping forward so that the man and his own noses were almost touching.

"I. Said. Leave. Her. Alone." Minho snarled, rage bubbling in his viens. The man was almost as tall as Minho, yet Minho had a more muscular body and was certain he could probably out-power him if he tried. The man sneered.

"I'd like to see you try."

And with that, Minho's fist was swinging towards his face, smirking when a crack resounded out the moment his knuckles met the man's nose, ignoring your cry of horror and the gasps from the patrons of the club.

The man stumbled back, clutching his nose, crimson blood dripping from his face, soaking his shirt as he howled in agony.

Minho grabbed your hand, dashing for it as the two of you ran out of the club, never stopping until you were in his car.

"What the fuck Minho," you gasped out, still clutching at your chest and trying to regain your breath.

"He deserved it," Minho shrugs, grabbing a pack of tissues from his backseat and trying to wipe the blood off his knuckles dry, wincing as he let out a hiss.

"Here," you grabbed the tissue from him, taking his hand before gently blowing on it and dabbing at the blood around the wound, being careful not to touch the wound.

And it was then Minho's world stopped, time freezing as his breath hitched. It was a sorry sight, the both of you sitting in his car in the middle of a parking lot behind the club, yet it felt like everything as he watched you treat his hand with the most gentle care. It was no secret to all of your friends that he had a crush on you, only that you had never noticed, pining on you from afar but never making a move. His breath stuttered when you smiled, placing a soft kiss on his hand when you were done with cleaning.

"Done," you giggled drunkenly. "A kiss to make it better. We can properly disinfect it later," you smiled, comfortably reclining in his car's seat as you stared out the window.

"U-uh, yeah," he stammered out, before hastily turning his car on and driving out, brain hazy from the kiss you had placed on his hand, butterflies erupting from his stomach.

He sighed. "You really think you can charm your way out of anything, don't you?" Minho sighed, eyebrows pinched as he drove you back home.

"It's worked so far, hasn't it?" You grinned, chin in the palm of your hand as you stared out the window.

"One day, you'll meet your match. He could've done something to you if I hadn't stepped in. Batting your eyelashes and pretending that you're busy isn't going to work all the time, what if he had persisted?" Minho's hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes on the road as he sighed.

"I'll find a way out," you shrugged.

The rest of the car ride to your apartment was silent, you gently snoring as all the alcohol got to you and making you fall asleep.

Minho shook you gently, parked right outside your house.

"Hey, wake up."

You stirred slightly, grumbling before promptly going back to sleep.

"Yah, wake up or I'll pour cold water over you." He shook you more vigorously this time.

After several attempts to wake you up, he decided he had no choice but to carry you, grunting as he lifted you up and kicked the door of his car shut.

"God, when did you get this heavy," he groaned slightly to himself, arms aching as he waited for the lift.

Unlocking your apartment door with the spare key you had given him, he kicked off his shoes and removed yours, setting you down on the couch before shuffling over to the fridge to get you a hangover drink he knew would definitely come in handy tomorrow morning. Getting the necessary ingredients out of your fridge, he started making pasta, knowing your stomach would be empty when you woke up.

You woke up twenty minutes later from your nap to the aroma of homemade tomato sauce wafting through the house, blinking groggily as you watched a plate laden with piles of tomatoes, cheese, and spaghetti be set down in front of you, coupled with your favourite brand of hangover drinks by a giggling Minho.

"You look like a mess," he chuckled, digging into his own plate of pasta while sitting cross legged at your coffee table.

"Yeah, no shit sherlock." You grumbled, rubbing your eyes and unfortunately smearing mascara all over your face. "Shit."

Hurrying to the bathroom, you grabbed some makeup wipes, removing your makeup and throwing on some comfy clothes nefore heading out to eat your midnight meal with Minho, currently halfway through his plate already.

"Mm, this is good," your eyes widened in surprise as you took a bite of his food.

"Since when has my food never not been amazing?" Minho scowled playfully, glaring at you for a total of three seconds before bursting out in laughter.

Rolling your eyes, you silently ate, letting out small sounds of satisfaction as you smiled.

In that moment, Minho knew he was fucked. Well, truly, and utterly fucked. The way you looked at him with those sparkling doe eyes to the curve of your lips and the scrunch of your nose when you smiled had him bewitched and entranced, and he knew that his feelings for you were going to be there for a long, long time.

"I need to go back home, it's late," he stated, after both of you had eaten your fill and were lounging on your couch.

"Stay," you whined, and he felt his resolve crumble the moment you looked at him pleadingly.

"Fine."

You beamed at his response, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

Minho was no stranger to sleeping over at your house, the friend group the both of you were in always having random sleepovers whenever, all of you had clothes at each other's homes, so there really wasn't much of a reason for him to have to go back to his apartment at this late hour.

Taking a shower and changing into comfy shirt and shorts, he made his way into the living room, where you were fast asleep once again, shaking you gently.

"Go shower."

"Fineeee," you pouted, finally finding the will to get up and trod to the bathroom.

Later that night, the both of you lay curled up to each other in bed, his hand disinfected and wrapped up carefully in bandages by you.

"Min?" you asked sleepily.

"Yeah?"

"I like you. Like- like, like you, you know? In fact I think I love you," you rambled, a dopey smile on your face as you faced him, watching his features instantly morph into ones of shock.

Minho felt like his world had stopped, reeling from the shock as he processed what you said.

"This- this isn't a dream or a joke, right? It's real?"

The question came out as a barely there whisper, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

You smiled softly, taking his hand.

"No Min, it's not."

And that was all it took, that simple sentence, to have him lean forward and connect his plush lips to yours as he kissed you with every fibre in his being, holding you close as if he was afraid that you were a dream that would slip away the moment he let you go. You poured your soul into the kiss, deepening it, both of you never separating 'till your lips were swollen and your faces were flushed, gasping for air yet smiling giddily like toddlers receiving a lollipop, the rush of adrenaline and thrill coursing through you.

"I love you," Minho says, holding you close.

"I love you, and I would burn for you."

And he meant it.

#lee know x reader #lee minho #lee know #comfort #angst #non!idol au #stray kids #lee minho x reader #reader insert #skz x reader #fluff #comforting #warmth #drabbles #oneshot #Spotify #stray kids x reader #skz

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superhoeva-archived · 2 years

Note

Hey so I don’t know if this is what you meant by blurbs for warmth but how about cuddling with the boys like who likes it the most 🥰 (P.s I love your work and have a amazing day 😘)

this one has me 🥺 (also, i'm kind of basing this off of the chapters released so far and will do a part two later in the series.) enjoy!

erik is definitely a cuddler. (not to mention that he has the arms for it.) you usually end up sitting pressed up against his side with his arm tucked around your shoulders. LUCKY ;)

and our lovely m'baku. the king of cuddles, if you ask me. he's such a teddy bear and cuddles like one. somehow, even after working in the arctic for the last handful of months, he's so warm? which you can never get enough of...

honorable mention: kingo. he's too much of a puppy to turn down cuddles from him, which are great, by the way!

thank you, anon! <3

taglist (open): @rae-gar-targaryen @leyannrae @rosaline-black @bannerbubble @youlovetkay @blowmymbackout @angrybirdxx @mi-han @lovelytricia @gitasor @bingingcontentrn

#erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger imagine #m'baku x reader #m'baku imagine #kingo x reader #kingo imagine #erik killmonger #m'baku #kingo eternals #warmth #au: warmth #warmth blurb #simone writes

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starry-bi-sky · 7 days

Text

I'm so annoyed. @kingcrow01 tumblr ate your ask about Danny's opinion on the League. tumblr i pressed 'save draft' why didn't you sAVE DRAFT.

ANyways I'm making a post instead. For everyone else, the ask was in summary:

What was Danny's opinion on the League now that he's left it? If he missed the familiarity of it, if he recognized the cult-like behavior inside it, and if he now detested his grandfather.

And to answer (again, grrr): It's complicated! We love complicated <3. Yeah, Danny does miss the familiarity of the League, it was still his home for the first ten years of his life and he has a lot of memories there. Plenty of good along with the bad, and while he's less homesick than he was when he was 10, it still hits him like a truck at random intervals.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are great, and he likes the Drs. Fentons enough that he's contemplated murdering Vlad for his meddling, but if he wants to eat the same food his mother used to make him and Damian, he has to do it himself and he can't get the taste right. No one knows arabic so he speaks it to himself because he doesn't want to forget his mother tongue, and he has a few books too. Frankly? He genuinely misses training.

Getting to use Sam's gym helps with his restlessness, same with training with Maddie, but he has no one on or above his level to go against other than his mother. And he only sees her twice a year at most. He knows that he's getting stagnant and he fucking despises it like a bad itch he can't scratch.

He feels conflicted about missing the League, however, since by now he recognizes the flaws and what was wrong with it, and he recognizes that it was cult-like. But even that is kinda, hrm, complicated? If this was a fic I would be able to go better into depth about what he has and hasn't unlearned because cult deprogramming is hard and Danny's doing most of this on his own.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz have helped with the more obvious stuff: like the ecofascism, the disregard for human life, his emotional constipation; the more obvious stuff that shows in his behavior and personality. But none of them are professionals nor do they actually know the full extent of what Danny's life in the League was like. They only have snapshots since Danyal is very tight lipped about it. So they can only help with what they see themselves through Danny's behavior or word of mouth.

But in summary: He sees, for the most part, what's wrong with the League and disagrees with some of the stuff they do now. But he's very conflicted, and trying to dissect his feelings on the League confuses him. His protests about it whenever Sam and Tucker joke about it have at this point become mostly empty (altho it still causes him some discomfort), and its an inside joke between them three.

As for Ra's? Despises him. If only because Ra's wanted him to kill his little brother -- thinking about his motives with the League confuses Danny, cognitive dissonance and stuff, -- a lot of his hatred stems from "He wanted me to fight my baby brother to the death. I destroyed my relationship with Damian because of him, I had to fake my death and leave my home, and I will never meet my father or see my brother again because of him. Fuck that guy."

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danyal al ghul au #starry asks #demon siblings au #danny's opinions on the league is rather complicated but he knows that some of the stuff that happened inside was wrong. and while he's #always known that his upbringing wasn't normal -- and he took pride in that -- its only in recent years that he's learned that #this was a *bad* thing. that his upbringing was wrong. he's still kinda grappling with that.#danny's homesickness hits the worst when he's patching himself up from a ghost fight alone. stitching up his throat in his ghost form when #he gets hit with a deep child-like grief and the unwitting 'i wanna go home'. he's exhausted and sad and hurting and fucking *tired*#good mom talia al ghul supremacy. she's trying her best.#but yeah sam and tucker did a lot of good for Danny by becoming his friend. he's a lot better off than he would've been if he remained alon #'a child not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth' type of stuff. danny's aware of this and is incredibly grateful #for sam and tucker. and as a result can and will get violently protective. his moral code on killing can be summed up as: i dont kill bc i #value human life and it's inconvenient. but i will do it without remorse if i must.#vlad is only still alive because he's incompetent. but the ice is thin #catch me about to make an incorrect quotes post about this au. i am so close.

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leporidetum · 1 year

Photo

⚠️: implied body horror

priest and the unfathomable sketches

#leporidacticdraws #todoizu #somehow still todoizu #it's not my AU if it doesn't have some juxtaposition of horror situation and domestic warmth #both mothers passed away rather early in this story #tw: body horror #todoizu's farflung tales #tdiz!priest and the unfathomable

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amielot · 8 months

Text

They head back to the barn when the rain lets up.

@arialerendeair def gave inspo for this one hehe

#horse girl au #might do a part 2 for this particular story beat #how many of you guys want me to draw the huddle for warmth trope?#huddle for warmth trope?#huddle for warmth trope #i could also just move forward w the plot I think this scene says a lot already :3 #cw blood #the sandman #dreamling #centaur!dream #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the art tag #centaurs

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silverskye13 · 7 months

Text

"In the deep dark woods

In the hermit lands

There lies an ancient fortress

Where the wary dare not go-ee-oh

Where the wary dare not go.

There the trees are tall

And the ice, it bites

See it's buried in the snow

Where the wary dare not go-ee-oh

Where the wary dare not go."

Scar adjusted his grip on the reigns as his sled continued on through the snow. For the last day of his trip, the ground started doing its best impression of a mountain glacier -- more ice than anything -- and while it made for better footing for the horse, his ride had gotten noticeably more uncomfortable over bumps and rocks. The ground just sounded harder here, and the myriad of jostles made him wince. Still, it was far safer than sledding down the river, which marked itself as a tempting makeshift road, winding through the valley. He could see runner tracks on it, something he was sure the locals found reassuring, maybe even integral to survival in the cold, dark winter. Scar wasn’t from here though, and the rivers he knew were temperamental and treacherous. One fall into frigid water was more than enough to end a life, and had ended several in the town he came from. So he watched the river warily and let his horse pick her way across the snow-laden banks.

"Abandoned by

It's craftsman's hands

And cursed by all that see it

Where the wary dare not go-ee-oh

Where the wary dare not go

The dungeon keeper

Sleeps deep inside

With the spirits he's devoured

Where the wary dare not go-ee-oh

Where the wary dare not go."

Scar’s sleigh hit a root, or some animal's bolthole or something, forcing a sudden, heavy lurch through the sleigh. He winced at the loud rattle of his supplies as they threatened to tumble out. Across his legs, Jellie let out a low, complaining rumble. The massive white and gray snow cat, currently doing the very important job of keeping his legs and feet warm, cracked an accusing green eye at him, as though it were his fault the ground was so bumpy.

Scar ruffled a hand through her fur placatingly. "Oh hush, you big 'ol lazy thing. You’ve done nothing but sleep all day, anyway.”

Jellie let out a loud harrumph, the white bloom of her breath freezing against her whiskers. Her eye closed again, and she didn’t make another sound.

"Lazy cat," Scar hummed affectionately, and ran his gloved hand across her fur again. He was tempted to take the glove off so he could feel the softness of her coat, but he resisted the urge. Scar has never known a cold like the cold in this part of the world. He knew winter, sure, everyone did, but there was something malicious and present in the way the cold worked here. It was the kind of cold that seeped into bones and rotted there, blueing and blackening the skin, almost sentient in its ferocity. Even lacking any wind save for the breeze of the running sleigh, the air here gnaws and tears like an animal, like peeling skin. Even the trees, blasted and twisted and tenacious, mark the winter wind's passing with the lean of their trunks. Evergreen needles bristled in undulating waves, sparsely broken by the dead, leafless limbs of deciduous trees. Here and there, trunks ruptured and scarred by the aftermath of freezing sap shattering them open stood like gravestones amidst their crowding kin.

It’s the dark remains of leafed trees that Scar finds the most interesting. While seasons do happen here, he had always been told it was too cold in this part of the world for a proper summer. There was only a season where it rained and iced more than it snowed. The fact that leafed trees had even tried to claim these forests was a marvel, here where even the evergreens started dying off the further he went. It was a bitter reminder to him that some of the death from this winter wasn't all from brutal, natural cold.

"In the deep dark woods

In the hermit lands

There lies an ancient fortress…"

Scar hummed to himself quietly, craning his head back to watch the looming, dark shape rising against the sky. The Frozen Citadel glared down at him with toothy, icicle sneers that laced every dark window and balcony. Its great black towers splintered the sky like obsidian blades, and icy ribcages clutched the spine of the road to its entrance. Despite the terror and foreboding the Citadel instilled, Scar felt a thrill of excitement as it grew nearer. It was like standing in the shadow of the corpse of some ancient monster, unfathomably old, unapologetic in its claim to existence. Villages die. Frost melts. Bones turn to dust. The Frozen Citadel remains.

"And we're going to get inside it," Scar grinned, and the frigid air on his teeth made his jaw ache.

Scar’s sleigh found the old cobbled road and glided across it, a flea scaling the trunk of a mastodon. The horse slowed its gait the farther up the road they went, casting nervous glances to the dead and dying vegetation around the Citadel. So close to the great structure, the trees looked more like ice sculptures than any living thing, and had probably died centuries ago, though the layers of ice built around them kept their silhouettes ever still. The world here was deafeningly quiet. All the small crawling, flying things of the forest didn’t dare stir, if they lived here at all. Even the wolves, haunting companions that had stalked Scar across the wilderness, had stopped their howling several hours ago. There was only the creaking of branches, the crackling of brittle snow, and the sleigh. Fanciful things came to him in the silence: the impression of a shout or an echo, the jibber of whispered voices, the refrains of old campfire songs. It was thrilling and strange to know the only thing making a sound around here was him. Haunting, oh, that was a good word. To admit it was haunting though, would be to admit he found it scary, and he couldn’t do that. Scar hadn’t admitted he was scared since he first read about the Citadel in his bedroom as a kid, hadn’t admitted he was scared when Jellie was still vicious and tried to bite his hands when he trained her, hadn’t admitted he was scared when he bought his sleigh and his horse and first struck out nearly three weeks ago. He would not admit he was scared now.

The horse knickered nervously, ears pressing back, and finally hauled them up to the Citadel entrance -- or as close to the entrance as the horse would allow. The gaping, toothy, maw-like doorway yawned open in front of them, showing the glimmer of blue fire within. He tried to coax the horse forward, reasoning to it about warmth and shelter and food, but something about the mouth-like portal made it rear and whinny, and finally give the sleigh a heavy kick with its back hooves.

“Alright alright! You don’t have to be so angry about it, stupid thing!” Scar chastised it, though he wasn’t able to keep the grin from his face. He could make camp outside, that was fine. Or maybe he would just picket the horse out here and make his camp inside. Yes, he liked that idea a lot, actually. Then he and Jellie would be safe and warm as close to the treasure as he could get, and tomorrow, oh tomorrow, he would delve in. Scar rubbed his stiff hands together greedily, and cleared his throat.

“Alright Jellie, time to work!”

At the command, Jellie harrumphed one more time and got to her feet, shaking out her fur. The moment her weight was off of Scar’s legs, a cold chill darted its way up his spine. He wiggled his toes -- All still mobile and full of feeling! -- and pulled his legs over the side of the sleigh.

“Help me down, Jellie,” Scar hummed pleasantly, and the large cat hunkered down beside him, the soft handles of her cloth harness within his reach. In a practiced motion (that had really taken way too long to train in hindsight) Jellie pulled her owner out of the sleigh, supporting most of his weight on her back as she went. When he was secure on the ground, she trotted to the spot at the back of the cart where the smaller toboggan was hooked in place. She pulled it to him, patiently waited as he got situated inside, and waited even longer as he clasped her harness to its tethers with his clumsy mittens.

“Alright!” Scar crowed triumphantly when everything was in place and securely fastened. “Take us in Jellie!”

The great snow cat shook out her fur and started forward, only bristling a little as she stepped towards the shadow of the Citadel’s interior.

“Absolutely not!” a voice boomed suddenly, startling both cat and handler to a stop. “Are you stupid or what? Get-- get away from that door!"

Scar turned as best he could in his toboggan to look over his shoulder -- at the three horses and riders who seemed to have popped out of the snow. Two of them he noticed, with the startled clarity of someone who wasn’t used to being on the business end of a weapon, had bows and arrows trained in his direction.

Scar, for lack of anything else to do, smiled and raised his hands -- partly in greeting, but mostly to keep from being poked full of arrows. “Well hello there!”

#the barking writer #decked out 2 #goodtimeswithscar #goodtimewithscar #decked out 2 au #No Place of Honor #This is No Place of Honor #No Place of Warmth #<- just gonna throw all my working titles there because why tf not #anyway im not working on another big project <- lying

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