F/O: I'm cold.

S/I: Here, take my jacket.

(Later that day)

S/I: I'm cold.

F/O, all nice and cozy in S/I's jacket: I can't control the weather, S/I.

it’s currently -40 degrees out where i am and i am so sick of settlers- specifically settlers complaining about the cold. go home moniyaw!!!

and i understand the cold is dangerous. my heart goes out to those who actually suffer in this cold especially unhoused people, someone in my city has already died in the cold after being kicked out of a shelter, and last winter almost a year ago a girl i went to jr high and high school with was in crisis and left her house without proper clothing and died.

the people i see who are complaining aren’t the people who are actually suffering right now.

vulnerable people, immigrants, refugees, they’re the ones i have empathy for in this climate, but so many settlers are being absolutely ungrateful for the land they live on, this land needs the cold.

>> Pokemon Personality Quiz

Well, this was off to a good start. Roman looked at his result proudly, finding it very accurate for a man like himself. Nothing suited him better than a Dragon, being a natural leader with strong ambitions to take over Gotham and claim the city as his own. Damn right he had high standards and he wasn't afraid to show it!

"Agreeableness is very low? Fuck you, I'm perfectly agreeable when it suits me!" The rudeness of this quiz.

It was only getting after his result that the grumbling stopped, Roman completely in shock at what he'd gotten. He'd expected dragons; fierce, proud, powerful beasts that matched the vigor and menace he exuded and what he'd gotten was far from what he'd expected.

"And just what the fuck is that? A Goodra? Are you fucking kidding me!?!? That ain't no fucking dragon, that's something out of My Little P.ony or some kid's shit! Don't get mad if it slimes up my good suit? You better believe I'm gonna get PISSED at this gooey-eyed piece of shit touching me! Sure, don't give me the badass with blades in his face or the giant Blue Crocosaurus. Even the frozen turkey would be better than fucking Goodra." Roman seethed. This shit was exactly the reason why he didn't like Pokeymans or whatever the hell the stupid series was called.

Tagged ByStolen from: @peranarkia (♡) Tagging: Whoever would like to do it?

Ya think kaeya is into temperature play.

kaeya likes to give you kisses, cold kisses— with the help of his vision, his lips being placed on your poor poor clit while he further plushes into your warm body. His eyes are a bit sunken, half lidded and glazed with a darkened frown on his features. And then kaeya does it again, trailing down your soaked folds with his lips puncturing your suffering spots and playfully pecking your sensuality with his freezing lips to catch your voice calling his name— but you’re choking over your own words through the repeated gnaw in your throat, the fast flip between warm and cold brought a divine ease on your kicking skin. The kiss was rippling into that of being coursingly flaming and so fucking good, it was hard to not move a muscle, to lock your legs around his head and have him admire you more, your eyes finding his guarding ones when you gingerly fluff into his silkened hair, giving him a little extra attention.

Imagine fucking a jinchūriki & they use their tentacles, tails, extra appendages, and/or chakra tendrils on you.

CW: Periods

So, we all know that Lucien can heat himself up like a warm ass heater right? To all of my homies with ovaries, consider using Lucien as a heating pad during your shark week. He can lay in your lap & he can also soothe your body pain. Win, Win situation.

Wouldn't it be nice to be my canvas? Let me cover you in paint, tease your body with different brushes. Goosebumps from the cold paint and tingliness of the bristles. Rubbing your skin with towels or sprinkling water on top because I'm fussing over uneven lines or shades not being quite right. Maybe I'll intentionally move my brush over your sensitive parts more often than others, leaving them stimulated and aching.

Finally, when the swirls and colors please me enough, you'd be displayed as art should be. Perhaps I'd be the only one to enjoy the efforts, perhaps I'd invite many others. Just sink into your purpose and be the reason of my pride. But don't let the excitement take over, we can't let the wet puddle between your legs smudge the paint.

it's too hot to work

I had a dream last night that I was afflicted with some kind of exhaustion disease probably brought on by my irl subconscious resisting the no-dreams buff from the weed gummy I ate before bed, and in the dream Justice Guilty Gear was coming to my house and I didn't know why so I like struggled over to the door with my sword and constantly kept rubbing my eyes to stay awake

It turned out she wanted to apologize for being evil and wanting to kill people. She could tell something was wrong with me so I invited her into my house and idk what happened after that because the dream wasn't very vivid to begin with lol Idk if it was a Sol dream either because I couldn't see my hands. It probably was though, based on the everything else happening

Hail Hydra - Chapter Four

Bucky is warmed up... A little too much. CW: Restraint, branding, threats of violence, temperature torture. Prompts filled: ‘Captivity’, December 4th prompt, Dead Dove December ‘Hug’ (Alternate), December 4th  Prompt, Hurtcember 2023 ‘Hidden Injury’, December 4th prompt, Whumpcember ‘Doctor’s Visit’, Bad Things Happen Bingo ‘“What a Gift to Relish, a Victim That Can’t Perish.”’, Five Nights At Freddy’s Bingo

Check it out on AO3 here, or below the KR with the boards!

I came to consciousness slowly, trembling violently under an unknown covering, still painfully cold but with a delightful, comforting warmth surrounding me. My lids flickered open, and I went to sit up, wincing at the pain as feeling began to leach back into my limbs. Straps across my body held me still once more, but I could only sigh, eyes finding a familiar ceiling overhead before the familiar, spectacled face moved into my line of sight. “Ah, here he is…” I snarled in response, straining against my restraints, teeth bared, but he only laughed, fingers probing at my arms, eliciting a hiss when he manipulated my painfully sensitive fingers. “You can feel this?” “Да, Cэр,” I spat sarcastically, and he snorted under his breath, grasping a finger in his hand and applying pressure until I felt the bone splinter, jaw clenched to keep from yelping. “Enough of your attitude, American,” he warned, “or next time we will take more pieces.” I ground my teeth, biting back further scathing response as he moved to my feet. I’ve already lost one hand. I’ll stay silent if it stops me from losing anything else. He methodically probed and prodded, my responses clipped and cold when he enquired as to my sensation. “Even the frostbite is reversing… Fascinating.” He moved back to my head, grasping my jaw roughly as I growled. “Your capacity for freezing temperatures is high,” he murmured, a predatory smirk coming over his face. “What a gift to relish, a victim that can’t perish! Though… I imagine even you could perish if pushed far enough.” “One day I’m going to get out of here, and we’ll see how much you can survive,” I hissed, eyes narrowed into violent slits, my fear briefly forgotten amidst my rage. He simply raised an eyebrow, crossing to the furnace in the corner – lit for the first time, to my knowledge. Humming under his breath, he passed out of my vision as he resumed speaking, his voice flat and deadly. “They say the war will be over soon. But… We are Russian. Why would we have an American in our cells?” His face leaned back into my line of sight, grinning sinisterly. “We are Allies, after all…” “You’re scum,” I snarled, baring my teeth once more. “You think you can keep me here? I’m going to-” My words were cut off by a yowl of pain, thrashing against my restraints at the feeling of the flesh in the hollow of my hipbone sizzling. “You have been warned, упрямый Американский. Do I have to remove your tongue?” I clamped my jaw shut, the muscles of my throat straining to keep my silence as my scream built behind my teeth. “Better.” There was a clatter of metal as he tossed the poker back into the furnace, tears pricking my eyes at the scent of burning skin. “Get him dressed. Time for stage two.”

Stage two, as it turned out, was more torture – as utterly predictable as I found that revelation. I was dressed in a snug, woollen jumpsuit, arms secured behind my back by the biceps - so I couldn’t unbutton the high collar - by a metal strong enough that even I couldn’t pull it apart. I was clad in thick socks and heavy boots, and, briefly, I was grateful. The gratitude passed quickly. A heavy, portable furnace was in each corner of my cell when I returned, fires blazing, amateur rigging leading out through a hastily-made hole in the wall to disperse the smoke. The room was sweltering, and I broke into a sweat immediately, hair sticking to my neck, and froze in the doorway until Ivan kicked in the back of my knees, sending me sprawling, and without my hands – or rather, hand – available to catch myself, my chin collided heavily with the concrete, and I hissed in pain as the skin was scraped raw. “Enjoy the warm,” he snorted, pushing my feet out of the way as he slammed the door shut, leaving me to struggle into a sitting position with a groan.

I think I’d preferred the cold. Within minutes, I was soaked in sweat, heart fluttering desperately against the heat, my mouth dry as a desert. I was pressed desperately against the wall between the two heaters furthest from the door, trying to leach as much cold from the rapidly-warming concrete as I could. Every second dragged heavy breaths from my body, muscles shaking in a frantic effort to dispel some of the insane heat burning under the wool. Every hour or so, the door opened, and Ivan did a round of the heaters with a stern warning not to move and a gun pointed at my head. By the third, I was considering charging him, just to make it end.

The sun was going down by the time the door opened for the sixth time, the golden rays startlingly beautiful after only the flickering flames to keep me company. I opened my mouth to protest weakly, but only a shaky croak came out, eyeballs aching from dehydration. I blinked in a desperate attempt to clear my blurry vision, and sighed with relief as a blond-haired face swam into view, squatting before me with concern. “Here,” he murmured, offering me a tray with a small, dry square of unidentifiable food. “Water?” I croaked, and he winced. “Technically… No. You are on dehydrated rations and no water intake.” His hand slid inside his shirt, pulling out one of the bottles of water I’d become familiar with. “But I swiped this. I cannot- It’s not much, but-” The second the plastic found my lips, I drank ravenously, careful not to spill a single, precious drop. I didn’t stop for breath until it was empty, resting my head back against the wall and panting hard. “Th-thank you…” “They do not expect you to make it through the night before you black out.” I watched him carefully, shoulders cramping from my pulled-back arms. “Neither do I,” I admitted softly, wincing as I shifted position, the burn on my hip aching from the heat. His eyebrows furrowed in concern, and I scowled. “What?” “Did they hurt you?” I laughed despite myself, chin jerking to gesture at the room around me. “They’re trying to cook me alive. What do you think?” “What did they do?” he breathed, inching closer, those blue eyes shining with worry, and I swallowed. “Hot poker. Hip. It’s fine.” His lip curled in a grimace, hand reaching out instinctively. “Can I see?” I growled automatically, flattening myself against the wall, and he winced. With a soft sigh, I relaxed reluctantly, letting his fingertips brush the jumpsuit. With slow, trembling hands, he unbuttoned the wool, exposing throat- chest- stomach, hesitating when his fingers brushed my pubic hair, his face turning pinker. “W- Ah, which… Which side?” “Left,” I replied softly, watching him closely. It has been a long time since I’d have someone so nervous around me, and, in spite of the situation I found myself in, I found myself smirking at his shyness. He gently eased the jumpsuit to the side, flinching sympathetically. “It is not deep. You heal quickly; you will be okay…” His thumb smoothed the skin over my burn, eliciting a soft shiver that made him smile. With a pause, his hand found my chest, and I raised an eyebrow, making his cheeks flush ever darker. “I-I… I’m checking your pulse.” “Isn’t that usually done at the throat?” I teased, my heart beating just a little harder under his touch, making him laugh and draw his hand away. “… Why do you heal so quickly?” he murmured a few moments later, slowly buttoning up my jumpsuit once more, mercifully stopping halfway to let my skin breathe for a short while. “I… Don’t really know,” I admitted, watching his slender, deft hands as they returned to his lap. “I was experimented on.” “Germans?” “Yes.” He nodded once, fingers curling into fists. “Yes… Well. The полковник – the Colonel, your doctor – is interested in you. He will do this for as long as he can, you understand.” When I could only nod weakly in response, he cleared his throat. “I will do what I can to help you, but I…” “I understand,” I replied quietly, wincing. “I know. I… I’ll be fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” My mouth had grown dry again, and I knew he was struggling himself when I saw his tongue catch on his parched lips. “… Go on. Get out of here. There’s no point in both of us strug-” My words were cut off as he slammed into me, arms tight around me. “You will be okay, Bucky. You will survive this.” I chuckled weakly, burying my face in his neck. “I’ll do my best, Aleksi.”

@deaddovedec @whumpcember @hurtcember @fnafbingo @badthingshappenbingo

What Does Your Heart Look Like?

I don't have any internal organs anymore so did this quiz for Stinky Grandpa V. Link to quiz here.

Thank you for the tag @shimmer-like-agirl! <3

Tagging with no pressure: @neon-pink-witch @quaddmgd @oranzuwu @setaflow @vox-monstera @fly-amanitaa

iced over, out of the sun

Your heart is very lonely, isn’t it? Is your fortress of ice self-made? Are others afraid of you, or are you afraid of them? Are you afraid of hurting them, or of being hurt? Vulnerability and connection can be frightening, but that’s no reason to shy away from their light, to tuck yourself small into corners, to build up frigid walls to keep yourself from feeling. You will heal when you allow yourself to draw closer to the flames and thaw.

She didn't fully understand it back then; the words themselves. Their meanings or origins. But she did come to know the furnishings of her house well. The angry keel and pitch of raised voices, the shattering of porcelain and glass, the cuts and bruises hidden beneath the opulence of fabric. The narrowed gazes of unmet expectations whenever she dared to look up.

Those were the things she had come to know in her house.

She'd never be like her mother. Never be like Vivianne. So, she stopped trying. It was easier that way. Not having to think about amounting to anything. Not caring. Wondering when the food in her belly would stop making her nauseous. Wondering if the place she slept at night would ever keep her warm. Wondering if a house could ever be a home.

That's what she told herself.

But then she cared too much when the blood pooled on the tile of the kitchen floor. When the bathtub flooded and water spilled over the edges. She cared too much about that house being empty. When there was no one home.

Nowhere to shelter, V just got used to the cold.

moving to NY has not yet defused my complete rage response to any & all hurricane coverage which engages in the polite fiction that local emergency response is in any way sufficient, or even competent. the local government for my county was understood to be pretty good at disaster planning, but they had an insufficent number of shelters for the county population, an awareness that those shelters were not all structurally appropriate (vital parts of a shelter building connected with external staircases; poorly maintained roofs; facilities located in flood zones), and a persistent inability to mobilize needed staff in an orderly way. it was a disaster during irma, then during ian, and now, according to my friends still there, during idalia. as far as i can tell, the plan everywhere is to look busy & hope you don't get hit. genuine efforts at climate resiliency or protection for the most vulnerable members of our society are just like, apparently not on the table, but we all have to just lie about it because it's unpleasant to think about

So I think the thermostat was just too high for the longest time and it’s likely caused my symptoms to flare up so bad. I’m starting to improve but it may be a little while longer before I feel confident enough to draw stuff again.

More delays overall until I feel better I guess

When Kirk created the bat serum formula, it worked like a charm. After the first dose, his hearing began to return, sounds sharper and clearer than he could ever recall. Everything was fine at first, even if hearing again for the first time in years took some getting used to but Kirk found he needed to continue taking doses and would start feeling unwell when he didn't. Not only was the serum highly addictive, it continued rewriting his DNA, slowly warping his personality and causing intense blackouts where he'd lose consciousness for hours, even days at a time with no recollection of what happened during these episodes...

your honor. how am i supposed to process 40 boxes of books...

tw/cw alot of temperature whump so basically anything to do with that is here like ice fire burns etc, caretaker is accidentally the whumper, small heart attack mention + small implied nudity mention

whumpee got alot of funy temperature whump idk what is in the temperature whump circle but im spitting this out anyways cold or hot water poured on them and/or being the only kinda water they can bathe/shower with and once the temperature changes its ether get out, refill, refill with the opposite temperature (i heard u can get a heart attack from this) hand on stove forced to keep ice in their mouth (maybe with mints) forced to keep hot water/hot food in their mouth (maybe spicy) ice/hot water is the only thing they are allowed get hydrated from hot food is the only thing they are allowed to eat and if it gets too cold its too late (gotta eat fast too then maybe ohoho) dumped in snow dumped in hot coals no/very little clothes during cold times many clothes during warm times etc etc now they are with caretaker they have vastly different senses of temperature with or without whumpee having trauma whumpee needs to shower/bathe or even just wash their hands/drink any liquid with a very specific water temperature caretaker thinks that its far too cold/hot and changes it whumpee needs to have a very specific body temperature depending on weather/temperature caretaker thinks its wayy too hot or cold for them to be dressed like THAT like arent you making it worse for yourself?? whumpee gets a complete intolerance towards mint and/or spicy stuff caretaker wouldnt know yet and has some light spicy/mintyish food or snacks (maybe even the toothpaste is too much) also whumpee might have a fear of ice somehow but oh no its a hot summer day and i got tasty lemonade with ice cubes in it !!! fear might also include any kinda fire, snow the mf oven, stove or microwave bc it just radiates heat and,,ohno scawwy,,, up to you how long this lasts before whumpee goes "ur a different breed from me and we have different definitions of cold and hot so please stfu and let me shower in a way i think is normal"