#just a snippet

[seleneprince]

Snippet of my Neglected! Family x Yandere! Batfam au (I really need to find a name for this au already)

Wife! Darling has known of the Batcave's existence for years already, and so do her children.

She found out by pure accident. Her oldest daughter was doing her usual computer stuff she didn't understand, and said she found a weird signal coming from under the manor, in the underground...only they didn't know there was anything down there, not even a basement. Alfred never mentioned it.

The girl went to check, tracing the mysterious signal with her phone, and found a hidden compartment behind the pendulum clock. Before her mother could tell her to stop, she went down there.

Cue to Wife! Darling following her daughter to make sure she didn't get in trouble or hurt herself, because who knew if Batman even bothered with basic security measures for his vigilante stuff. From what she's seen of him as Bruce Wayne, she doubted it.

And that's how they found the Batcave. By the time Alfred found out and met them there, the daughter had already tinkered with half the equipment and replicated part of the Batcomputer's code in her tablet for fun, while her mother explored the whole place with a critical eye. Alfred expected them to be angry, to ask a lot of questions, but instead:

Wife! Darling!: "Who takes care of this place?"

Alfred: "Mostly me, Mistress (Name)."

Wife! Darling squinted her eyes, gaze darkening: "Just you? Does no one help you?"

Alfred: "It's part of my job, Mistress (Name). Don't worry, I can handle it perfectly well on my own."

She scoffed. "Well, this has to change. You're just one man, Alfred, and you're not getting younger with the years. The fact that they let you do so much already by yourself is infuriating, and you also have to clean after their crime-fighting bullshit? The nerve. I'll take care of this from now on"

Alfred blinked: "Mistress (Name), I can't possibly ask you that. You already help me more than enough around the house-"

Wife! Darling: "Nonsense, Alfred. You do way too much already. At this rate, it'll only affect your health for worse. I live here too now, so technically it's also my responsibility."

And that's how she ends up handling the maintenance of the Batcave along with Alfred, even taking over his tasks entirely. She starts off with the excuse of helping him, which it's true, but eventually she always takes care everything so the man has no option but rest.

And because she's such a perfectionist, she doesn't spare any efforts in the task. Cleans all the surfaces, fixes the suits, rearranges the weapons after cleaning them and creates a system to organize their gadgets so they're much easier to find. Even the Batmobile is left spotless, inside and outside. She goes as far to feed some of the bats casually roaming around the edges of the cave.

(And if her kids had naps inside the batmobile sometimes when they were down there, only she and Alfred are witnesses. Well, the bats too, but they're not snitching)

This way she takes some work off Alfred's shoulders. She finds it enraging that a man his age has such a heavy load of work with little to no help, so she takes over some of the house chores for him so he can have breaks. Plus, it helps her unwind and relax a bit from her usually stress-fuelled life.

She also begins to leave snarky notes about the shameful state of their gear when she finds it in particularly bad shape. And feels even worse that Alfred has had to take care of all of this at his age until she came.

"This blade is duller than your sense of self-awareness. Fix it"

"Blood is not a fashion statement. Grow up"

"If you die in this crusty suit, I’m not cleaning your corpse"

"Are you fighting villains or rolling in garbage?"

Seriously, the richest man in Gotham can't even afford a bit more of staff? But of course, she reminds herself he's the same man who forgot to use protection when fucking a random woman, so she shouldn't expect too much from him.

To avoid uncomfortable encounters, she specifically schedules her cleaning times for when the whole team is out, so she can work peacefully without being having to be in the same room as them. So far, it goes well. Alfred even warns her when they're coming back, and the Batcave is actually a pretty nice place to enjoy time for yourself when it's empty. Just the beeping of the computers as background noise, or her children messing around when they go down there to do their things.

It becomes part of her routine, one she even looks forward too during the day. Until one day.

The Batcave has been left spotless, as usual. Weapons polished. Suits lined up by height and damage level. Even the Batmobile has that new-car shimmer. It smells faintly of citrus-scented cleaning spray and frustration. There are also four sticky notes scattered across the table already, complaining about the state of their things again.

She is crouched near the weapon rack, holding the Batman suit with one gloved hand and a lint roller in the other, glaring at it like it personally offended her.

She mutters under her breath in Spanish, something about how "ni siquiera una máquina de coser podría salvar este desastre de traje, Dios mío." (Not even a sewing machine could save this disaster of a suit, my godness)

She’s in sweats, hair tied back in a messy bun. An apron over her tank top that says "KISS THE COOK (or don’t, I’ll stab you)". She's so deep in the cleaning zone she doesn’t hear the footsteps.

"Well, this is a surprise. I could get used to this."

Her entire body freezes. It feels like her blood turned ice in her veins instantly with the voice. That irritating, familiar voice.

Her head turns slowly, and there he is. Bruce Wayne in the flesh. Her husband in paper, father of her first child, owner of this cave, and responsible for half of the stress she deals with.

She could be annoyed or even embarrassed that he caught her like this, handling his suit no less. But instead, her mind is focused on what he said, and the tone in which he said it.

She arches a brow at him.

"Excuse me?"

He steps closer, clearly taking note of her work there. His eyes drifting to the Batmobile, the weapons, all she's taken care of already.

Bruce: "Me, coming back from work to find you cleaning my stuff. It’s so… domestic. It’s almost like we’re a married couple."

There’s a beat. A dangerous silence.

She blinks at him. Once. Twice. Processing the fact that he really said that. Out loud. To her. And in a completely serious tone.

Then he looks at her, and she notices the ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Oh, that filthy little-

Her eye twitches.

Wife! Darling: "...........Oh, absolutely."

WHACK.

She chucks a batarang at his head with a speed and accuracy that would’ve made Deadshot whistle. He barely ducks, and it slams into the metal behind him with a THUNK so loud the Batcomputer flinches and some bats burst out from their spots.

Bruce: "That could’ve taken my eye out."

Wife! Darling:"I was hoping so."

He stares at her, and then shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle. A chuckle. Since when is this man capable of that? Before she gets her answer, he pulls out the batarang with ease and places it back on the rack (Good, she would've murdered him for real if he left it anywhere else).

Bruce: "I meant it. I think I like this sight of you. Suits you well. You look like the ideal housewife."

Without looking, she reaches for another batarang and throws it at him. This time, he catches it mid-air, cool as ever, before setting it down on the table like he isn’t one second away from getting stabbed.

Bruce: "Was that really necessary?"

Wife! Darling: "It was either that or shoot you. You're lucky I'm generous today."

He watches her, barely concealing his amusement now, but there’s something else in his expression too, something he's never had when looking at her: Curiosity.

She doesn't like it.

Unbothered, as if he didn't just activate her kill switch, he starts to walk to the table and peels off one of the sticky notes, reading it aloud with a deadpan tone.

"Blood is not a fashion statement. Grow up."

Bruce: "You know I beat the shit out of people in this suit, right?"

She replies without sparing him a glance, wiping down a grappling gun with unholy aggression: "Yeah? Well, do it without staining it with their blood. You look like Gotham’s dirtiest raccoon."

He leans against the Batcomputer, arms folded. "How long have you been doing this, exactly?"

She scoffs, going back to adjusting the suit like she isn’t being interrogated. "Long enough to know that you leave your weapons in a shameful state. Honestly, it’s a miracle your stupid gadgets still function. Do you ever bother to maintain your own things, or do you just throw them around and hope Alfred fixes it?"

He watches her for a moment longer before finally speaking.

"And you’re doing this because...?"

"Because unlike some people in this godforsaken house, I actually care when an old man is running himself ragged taking care of things that none of you seem to appreciate."

Bruce pauses. He glances at the Batmobile, cleaner than it’s ever been. At his weapons, neatly arranged, polished, functional.

At the post-it notes stuck to the Batcomputer, scrawled in Rosa’s angry handwriting.

He actually huffs a quiet laugh. Again. It's unsettling her.

Then, almost as an afterthought, she mutters, "Besides, if you die because your equipment fails, it’s only a matter of time before you try to drag me into this circus. And I refuse to wear spandex."

He raises an eyebrow. "You’d look good in spandex."

Silence.

She throws the batarang at him again. This time, it actually clips his shoulder.

"Go get that treated before you stain anything, or I'll wipe the floors next with your face."

.......................

...........

Suddenly, Bruce starts to "casually" come to the cave early more often.

Now she has to adjust her schedule AGAIN to avoid him. And in the meantime, her children start betting on how many batarangs it takes before Bruce gets critically injured. Or dead.

[elejah-verse]

elejah_au

○

Their relationship was a constant battle against the very forces that had brought them together. The ancient vampire society, the supernatural hunters, and the ever-present threat of exposure- it all threatened to tear them apart. Elena, accustomed to a human existence, struggled with the realities of Elijah's immortality and the dark secrets he carried. Yet, amidst the chaos, their love persisted. It was a fragile thing, a flickering candle flame in a hurricane.

The possibility of a future together, a future beyond the fleeting moments they had stolen from the shadows, was a burning ember in his chest. Maybe it wasn't over. Maybe, despite the inherent differences and the insurmountable challenges, their love could conquer all. The thought fueled him, filled him with a reckless hope. He wanted to stay with her forever. And so it would be. In his arms, he would hold her, a fierce protector against the darkness of the world and the eternity stretching before them, his love for her as strong and ancient as his own immortal heart.

[chalamet-chalamet]

“I always love what he said about self-destiny being fragile.”

-Timothée Chalamet speaking to Anderson Cooper while discussing Bob Dylan

Twitter credit to CBSmornings

[tangerinelabyrinth]

"Martha experiencing racism in certain time periods isn't necessarily the issue but it is frankly ridiculous that he makes her concerns seem silly only for them to not be one bit when she actually experiences them. It paints the Doctor as still being the “good guy” and absolves him of any responsibility, especially after inviting Joan, the woman who made racist comments and was overall mean to Martha, to travel with him because he doesn't understand how “racism works.” and that it's not his fault; it's John Smith's, and he and the Doctor are not the same person, which is an argument I have seen people use to dismiss claims by fans that Ten treated Martha badly." (A snippet from the essay)

To further explain this, the Doctor acts oblivious to why Martha is scared of being carted off as a slave; he doesn't "understand why they would do that," so when Martha does experience racism in an unsafe time period, it couldn't be any fault of the Doctor because he doesn't understand how it works or could never have anticipated such hate.

[cookie-gal]

A snippet of chapter 3 The Faint hearted King (my EPIC AU)

Reposted cuz I messed something up lol

[ampresandian]

A scene I want in Season 2 (I would place it in probably episode 3, covering chapters 8-10, which I would title "We Board the Princess Andromeda")

INT. HALFBLOOD HIDEOUT - EVENING. THALIA and YOUNG ANNABETH are inside the hideout. Three sleeping bags are set out and the girls are cleaning up a meal and reorganizing their belongings. YOUNG ANNABETH: (huffs) Annabeth is clearly frustrated, pulling a twig out of her hair as she tries to focus on her task. THALIA: Hey, Annie. Let me help. Thalia approaches, assisting Annabeth with the cleaning. Annabeth pulls something else out of her hair. YOUNG ANNABETH: I just wish it was gone! THALIA: Is your hair bothering you? YOUNG ANNABETH: I just can't keep it from getting tangled in everything. THALIA: Can I help? I'll pick the leaves out and then maybe we can tie it up better? Annabeth nods, sitting on the floor to give Thalia a better view. Thalia carefully removes leaves and twigs. YOUNG ANNABETH: When is Luke coming back? THALIA: He should be back soon, he just went to go see... if he could find more supplies. Thalia seems unsure, but Annabeth happily accepts the answer. YOUNG ANNABETH: I'm sure he will. Luke is very smart. Thalia nods thoughtfully, finishing removing debris from the younger girl's hair. THALIA: All done. Now, what should we do with it? YOUNG ANNABETH: (thoughtful) Well, my dad took me to get it braided once, and that stayed really well, but it took forever. And I don't know if you know how to do that. THALIA: I don't think so, kiddo. Sorry. I'll learn. YOUNG ANNABETH: Maybe you could just tie it back like yours? Thalia frowns, looking at the afro. THALIA: Not exactly like mine, but maybe... Can I try something? We can figure something else out if you don't like it. Annabeth nods, and Thalia gets to work separating her hair and pulling it into two buns on top of her head. THALIA (cont): I don't know if that'll help it get less tangled, but maybe we can try it? YOUNG ANNABETH: It'll be better. Thank you! Annabeth hugs Thalia.

[nebbistrs]

iidamomo academic rivals

except iida is struggling to understand something. he never, NEVER struggles this much. and if hes struggling, imagine the others.

his only option to make it make sense; ask bakugo or momo.

and iida ran to bakugo first. safe to say it didnt work out.

so he had to suck it up, and ask his rival for help. and thats when it all starts.

[sweetteaandpie]

today's headcanon:

laughing at the possibilities around helen and nikola taking their sprog trick-or-treating. nikola is wounded because little six-year old amelia doesn't want to be a vampire this year. ("vampires are cool," he grumbles around the house like an old man.) she wants to be lydia from beetlejuice. so helen and nikola (albeit very reluctantly on his part) dress up as barbara and adam and take her around the neighbourhood. she makes her daddy carry the candy she doesn't like.

"i don't think you like reese's peanut butter cups, either," he says, pocketing a pack.

"nuh uh, i love those, daddy!"

"no, you really hate them. onward." he eats them as she excitedly runs up to the next house.

when they get home, amelia counts all her candy as she watches, "it's the great pumpkin, charlie brown."

"this was my favourite cartoon when i was 134," he tells her.

she giggles. "daddy, you're silly."

[pigfartsviatardis]

Jayvik WIP ‘Looking Glass’ sneak peek 👀

(post canon, will be multi chapter, they woke up inexplicably alive in the middle of nowhere, or maybe NOT so inexplicably as the story progresses)

————————————————————————

He strips off his remaining clothes, drops what he’s holding back in the basket, grabs the soap-lathered sponge and then goes to Jayce’s side, gently cupping his elbow. They get thigh-deep, steadying each other as their feet slip on pebbles and small plants. The water is very cold. Very cold, as Viktor discovers when his foot slips further and he’s suddenly deeper than expected-

“Kurva!” Viktor swears through gritted teeth, fingers digging into Jayce’s arm as he stumbles back so the water is no longer threatening his groin. “Maybe let’s… stop here for now?”

Jayce snorts at him, shaking his head, and Viktor shoots him a scowl, then pauses. It feels surreal to be so… normal with each other, like they’re back in the lab.

“Is- is your leg flaring up?” he asks, not quite making eye contact. Jayce shrugs in a tired sort of way as he accepts the soapy sponge Viktor hands him, rubbing in circles up and then under his arm.

“It’s still healing. Well, not healing, I don’t think it ever will properly, but… yeah. It’s not the worst it’s been, though.” Jayce begins to soap up his chest and abdomen. “I know you get it, so… um. Viktor.”

Viktor snaps his eyes back up, heat flooding his face at the raised eyebrows Jayce is giving him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jayce says, but he’s biting back a smile, something in his body language shifting slightly in a way that Viktor recognises from years past. Jayce always did tend to preen a little when he caught Viktor looking.

————————————————————————

Sneak peek 2 | Sneak Peek 3 | Sneak Peek 4 | Sneak Peek 5

Actual fic

[rockinlibrarian]

Post-Umbrella Academy S4 Reaction Part Two: Still Not a Show Write-up, a Fraction of a Fanfic Instead (spoilery)

I mentioned yesterday that I'd been toying with a TUA/Legion Crossover Fic idea, and that the finale of the former (particularly as it reminds me so much of the finale of the latter) has made me determined I really should do it and definitely set it post-Season 4. It's a perfect fix-it for TUA and I can actually work in a bit more fix-it for Legion, too. Anyway, it was stewing in my head all night, and this morning I woke up with IDEAS, and I ended up sitting down and writing 1,334 words-- a whole scene, a chapter basically, but it would be a chapter in the middle, which who knows when I would get to post that as a whole on AO3, and I feel like I need to post this part RIGHT NOW, even though it is essentially the MIDDLE of the story.

The basic overarching premise is that the Hargreeves end up at Summerland, the haven for troubled mutants (Marvel-style) in Legion. Summerland is co-run by a psychologist who's made it her life's work to help mutants reach their full potential, healing the traumas of living in a world that fears them, the traumas of everything being born Weird gives them.

You can, uh, see how this place might be good for the Hargreeves, right?

You don't need to know much more about Legion for this chapter-- there's some references to characters, but primarily THIS snippet is just my two favorite Hargreeves, who also did not get ANY time together this season, having a Feelings talk (AND WHOM I MANAGED TO WRITE A TENDER SCENE FOR WITHOUT IT TURNING NON-PLATONIC, BE PROUD OF ME) (yes for the uninitiated I am a pathetic Fiktor shipper, please see FAQ post to not hate me), so here, have Feelings with me!

PORTION OF A FUTURE MULTICHAPTER LEGION/TUA CROSSOVER. The working title of the Scrivener sheet for this particular chapter is "This willl NOT be Fiktor I SWEAR," but that will not be the final title. ;)

Viktor walked down to the lake, savoring the woodsy sounds and the gentle adagio behind it, when he spotted a familiar figure sitting at the edge of the dock.

Well, relatively familiar. He wasn’t used to seeing Five sit so still.

“Hey.” He sat beside him.

Five shifted slightly, as if to make room, nodded, and said, “Hey,” back, then drifted back into his odd silence.

After a minute, Viktor cleared his throat. “Beautiful here. Ever want to try fishing?”

Five sighed. “I’ve done a lot of fishing, wasn’t exactly a party.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Viktor sat in the awkward vibes. The vibes. Who knew silence could be so loud?

“Hey.” He paused. “Five. You okay? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

“Is there something I should be saying?”

“Normally you can’t keep your mouth shut, that’s all. But ever since we came here I think the only person I’ve seen you talk to is that Dr. Loudermilk. You’re avoiding everybody, and, granted, I think I hear Diego growling every time you come near and that would put me off, but still, are you okay?”

“Heh.” Five ran his fingers into his hair and held them there, staring into the murky water at their feet. “Guess you didn’t hear about what happened, did you.”

“Um, I guess not?”

Five sighed even more deeply, and lay back on the dock. “So, Lila and I got stuck in an endless timeline-hopping subway system for nearly seven years.”

Viktor laughed before he could stop himself.

“What?”

“Only you! Only you could answer ‘what’s been with you the past few days?’ with ‘Well it’s ACTUALLY been seven years.”

Five finally cracked a smile, albeit a sad one. “Yeah, I guess I can see how that could amuse you.”

“So how old does that make you now?”

He shrugged. “Seventy? Seventy-one? And god I feel so much older than that, Vik. I should have been annihilated in that Cleanse. I should be dead. I should have died so long ago.”

“Don’t talk like that.” He left Five to pick the conversation back up. He seemed to be composing his thoughts.

After another minute, he spoke. “I… know… what Delores was. I know it was all in my head. But she was all I had, and I needed her. I needed her there, loving me, so I loved her. Now, I find myself stranded in time again, but this time with a real human being by my side? A real… friend? I—.”

He broke off, but Viktor could fill in the rest. “Oh.”

“She belongs with Diego.” Five sat back up abruptly, voice harsh. “Not me. I don’t get to be loved. I don’t get to be happy. I am…fated to wander from universe to universe, alone. I can’t even get annihilated from existence properly!”

God. Dramatic, poetic Five. He was in rough shape. Tentatively, Viktor offered, “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never managed to keep a single relationship for more than a month. And I lived a relatively…ordinary life. I just suck at relationships.”

Five looked up at Viktor from the corner of his eye, smiled from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t we all.”

“The only time I’ve ever felt truly loved was with Sissy.” Viktor poked him. “And somebody made me put an end to that.”

“Now, come on, we were—.”

“I know, I know, we were in the wrong time, it would have wrecked the timeline. It DID wreck the timeline. But still, I’m just saying.”

“So, what, we can start a ‘The Only Person Who Ever Loved Me was an Already Married Woman’ support group?”

“I bet they have one of those here. Along with their ‘I Have Caused Not One But Multiple Apocalypses’ group.”

Five actually laughed— short, subdued, but a laugh nonetheless. “I’ve missed you, Vik.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Viktor squeezed his knee. “Anyway, you’re not alone, and you’re not unloved. Maybe not in a romantic way. But we do love you, and you do deserve to be happy.”

Five rolled his eyes. “I spent 45 years longing for nothing more than to get back to my family, the people I loved, and when I did, what did I get? Not again, Five, stop harshing the vibe, Five, why can’t you FIX this, Five, are you sure you’re not just batshit, Five? I love my family more than life itself, but they sure don’t love me.”

“We do—!” Viktor caught himself. Tried to see it from Five’s point of view. Realized he’d barely seemed to notice he was talking to one of his family. It felt like a revelation. Melanie would be proud. Viktor gave Five a gentle, sheepish smile. “Okay, when I said I suck at relationships, I don’t just mean romantically. I love you as a feeling, I’ll have to work on loving you as a verb.”

Five echoed Viktor’s smile. “What happened to us, me and you? When we were kids I could talk to you about anything…everything. I spent decades longing to talk to you, and then—there we were in the same timeline again and yet we’ve barely spoken in thirteen years.”

Viktor ducked his head, tutting. “Well, every time you tried to talk to me I brushed you off, and then I ran away to Nova Scotia for six years. And …you, apparently, got lost in an interdimensional subway system for seven more.”

“Intertemporal, not interdimensional. Cary—Dr. Loudermilk— and I have been trying to map out the different subsets of the multiverse and it’s a lot more comple— see, you’re laughing at me!”

“Just because I’m laughing doesn’t mean I’m not listening! I promise. I’m just laughing because…you’re so YOU. I’ve missed you, too. And I do love you. As bad as I am at it.” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry. For not being who you needed me to be. Melanie says— she says I need to work on my anger issues, that I’m too prone to vengeance. That my subconscious need for payback is too liable to slip out with my powers. Like the time I attacked Allison’s voice box for Rumoring me. Payback, you know. And I— I’ve been mad at you for leaving me for so long— so this time I ran off first. Payback.”

“Yeah, but sometimes you’re right. Like how determined you were to save Ben, bring him back, save the world.”

“Only because he saved me to save the world, first. Payback, Just more positive.”

Five gazed at him, steadily, thoughtfully. “Viktor, I’m proud of you. You’ve been making progress with this stuff all along, years before we got here. I remember wishing you had the guts to stand up for yourself just enough to claim the last doughnut.”

“Thanks. And you’ve got— you’ve got a lot of shit to work through, still, and you haven’t really had the chance to make progress. But just knowing you need to is a good start. I believe in you. And I promise, from now on, I will always listen, whatever you need to work through.”

“Thanks to you, too. I guess…I guess I feel just a smidge more hopeful now.”

“So, that girl who’s always hanging around Dr. Loudermilk….”

“Who, Kerry? They’re, like, symbiotes or something.”

“She’s technically his age, right? And that’s about the same age as you?”

“Yes?”

“And yet she also looks like she’s in her twenties. Like you.”

“Uh…huh?”

“I’ve also heard that she’s been known to leave dozens of bodies in her wake.”

“So what are you…? OH. Nah. No. Stop. She’s also off her rocker.”

“Says the man who fell in love with Lila,” he teased, gently.

“Kerry has the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old.”

“Says the man who lost contact with all humanity at the age of thirteen!”

“Viktor!” Five laughed. “You are not helping!”

“I am SO helping! This is the first I’ve heard you laugh in days! Or maybe years, on your end!”

Five���s laughed whined to a pause, and he dropped his head on Viktor’s shoulder. “We are so fucked up.”

“Yeah.” Viktor held him, rocking slightly. “But I don’t know, this Summerland— I think here we might actually get better.”

[peninkandcakecrumbs]

Just a Snippet

I asked around and heard tall tales

that you, just like every other male,

have had your head turned by a 'juicy piece of tail'

and as the anger flashes

and the eyes turn red

i begin to plot your murder inside my head.

[gumnut-logic]

Talk No. 1 (Bit 1)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Talk - No. 1 - Bit 1

This is the beginning of something for @idontknowreallywhy who asked for it :D

Sorry to post just this little bit, but I wanted to share this first scene because I enjoyed writing it. I have more, but the fic is not complete yet. So really just a tidbit :D

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the readthrough. And to the wonderful people who continue to give my fanboy engineer life :D

This is M/M, so if that isn't your thing, this isn't your fic.

I hope you enjoy this little bit.

-o-o-o-

“Alex baby, Mr Tracy wants to see you.”

Okay, if he balanced the reaction by adding more stabiliser earlier and slower, the result might give him the flexibility he needed in the final polymer.

“Yo, Alex!”

It was a bit of a stretch, pun intended, but it might just work. He calculated the time and volume of-

“Alex!”

He jumped and his stylus flipped out of his fingers, flying across the room to hit the pinboard full of notes he had been scribbling on earlier.

There was an crash as a pin, holding up far more than physics should allow, gave way and let its stack of flimsies explode to the floor.

“Oops.” Erica held a hand to her mouth. “Sorry.”

Alex stared at the mess scattered like artificial autumn leaves and just sighed. It had been one of those mornings. His current project had hit a bit of snag and he’d had to dive deep to find a solution.

Erica stood in the light from the windows of the portable building they were currently calling their labs. Her hair had shifted to more of a purple since the earthquake. Alex figured it was to offset the bright fluro yellow of her cast. Why her broken arm had a fluro yellow cast had been explained but Alex had yet to understand it. As always with Erica, colour choices were a mystery. Purple hair, pig tails with bobbly yellow ties, bright red lipstick and eyeshadow sparkly yellow with a touch of green.

She was just Erica.

She frowned at him. “Tia said Mr Tracy needs to see you.” She thumbed a hand in the direction of the door.

“Virgil? Virgil’s here?” Great he would love to hear about this solution.

“No, not Virgil, THE Mr Tracy.”

Alex blinked. “Mr Jeff Tracy?”

Erica let out a breath and rolled her eyes. “No, Mr SCOTT Tracy. Really, they need codenames or something. There are just too many Mr Tracys. The bird one, Alex. The Eagle has landed.”

“Mr Tracy?” Oh shit. “Where?”

“Tia’s office. Apparently he was ‘in the area’.” She put a finger to her lips in thought. “Gordon could be the Fish. He’d like that, I think.” She started counting fingers. “There are three space guys, though. Youngest flies the Rocket, so we can call him that. Middle one…” She eyed Alex. “…assuming he does actually exist, could be Spaceman. Their Dad is The Astronaut. That leaves just Virgil.” She smiled and walked towards her desk, past Alex, trailing a blood red fingernail across his shoulder. “We all know he’s the ‘Lover Boy’.”

“Erica!”

But she only laughed. “You better get moving, Sweet Pie. The Big Bird’s a-waiting.”

He grunted, grabbed his tablet, and fishing his stylus off the floor, fled out the door.

TBC

[cookie-gal]

Here's another snippet of chapter 3 of The Faint hearted King my EPIC AU

[b4bushka]

Work in progress but I am having fun drawing him and I enjoy the patterns and details even if I'm not good at them.

[anger-and-red-flames]

Did Kayn look at him how he looked at the piano? Had he not tied his hands, would they have caressed him, brought out music, how they did now? Would his body have been an instrument to Kayn, just like his could be a canvas to Hwei?

Kayn had looked at him as if he was beautiful, but he knew that he was, his body was his master's art, his makeup, hair, clothing, all of it had been carefully assembled by Jhin to ensure the right nuances and details on him. 

So Hwei knew that he was gorgeous, after all, Jhin had created him, had shaped and sculptured him until he was. Carved marks into his flesh, turned him into a living art piece. And everything his master touched was more beautiful afterwards.

But did Kayn see more in him? Had he managed to catch a glimpse  at Hwei’s essence, if just for a moment?

[topoillogical]

we writing fantasy today, bois