Emma Frost liked her nights warm—thermostat up, silk sheets perfectly arranged, a soft luxury to lull her to sleep. That was before she taught her eldritch horror of a girlfriend how to use the thermostat. Ever since, her once-cozy bedroom had become a glacial wasteland. For months.

At first, she thought it was a fluke. Maybe her girlfriend—massive, ancient, and not exactly fluent in modern anything—had misunderstood. But night after night, Emma found herself shivering under layers of blankets, her breath fogging in the air while her girlfriend snoozed blissfully beside her like a furnace in denial.

"Darling," Emma said one night through chattering teeth, curled beneath what felt like twelve blankets, "I think we need to revisit the thermostat talk."

Her girlfriend blinked slowly, the soft glow of her inhuman eyes dimming in confusion. “You don’t like the cold? You always have blankets.”

Emma groaned. “Blankets are not the point. I like warmth, comfort. Not waking up frozen to the bed.”

Looking sheepish, the towering figure sat up, nearly knocking over a lamp with her shoulder. “But... when it’s warm, I feel weird. Sticky.”

“You’re from another dimension,” Emma muttered, “You are weird and sticky.”

After some gentle negotiating—and several reminders not to press every button at once—Emma guided her girlfriend through a simple thermostat adjustment. The heat hummed to life. Emma visibly relaxed, eyes fluttering shut with a content sigh. “Perfect.”

Her girlfriend watched her, almost mesmerized. “You look... cozy.”

Emma smiled, snuggling into her. “I am. And if you ever make me sleep in an icebox again, I will not hesitate to hex you.”

The eldritch giant simply wrapped Emma in her arms like a warm, slightly ominous cocoon. “Understood.”