#short little snippets

[allthistrashtalkmakemeitchin]

Werewolf!Kendall who happily pushes Siren!Ronnie around in her portable bathtub because she deserves to have fun like any other teenager who can walk on land. Kendall's tail wags as he talks about ice hockey because it's his favorite thing, and he gets to share it with someone else.

Ronnie who is afraid to sing because she doesn't want to put Kendall to sleep, but if he needs help sleeping, she won't think twice about it.

Franken!Carlos who has come so close to electrocuting himself and Ronnie on numerous occasions just because he's so hyped about seeing water. And Vampire!James, with the help of Zombie!Logan has tried to hold Kendall back because something in him snaps at the thought of Ronnie getting hurt.

Ronnie, who can shapeshift, and Kendall almost cried the first time because he thought she had disappeared. His friends never let him live it down.

Kendall goes to James for advice because he's overthinking. James suggests he just use his hypnosis powers, but Kendall doesn't have those.

Carlos and Logan chilling with Witch!Mama Knight because they're getting secondhand embarrassment from Kendall.

[stellewriites]

ghost and soap that move in together in between missions to save on money and eventually - inevitably - fall into bed together. but somethings missing

they’re both a little too sharp around the edges, need something sweet to ease their cravings and soften their bites, but no one fits right

until you, that is. so don’t be surprised when they make sure you’re sticking around by any means necessary

[powerfultenderness]

okokokok I know I've been writing a lot of nasty no good Soap lately. So here's a cute little snippet of Soap trying to be sly and get a kiss out of Pretend Girlfriend!Reader (and the fake dating was her idea/request).

Honestly, this whole time Johnny has been nothing but a gentleman. You're sure sleeping with him-beside him!- will be fine, nothing to be uncomfortable about, you're both adults and things have been very clear. Convinced of that, you drop your phone on the nightstand to your side and reach over to turn off the lamp.

Johnny does the same, but hesitates before turning off the light.

"I think there's one thing we forgot, doll."

You pause mid shuffle and look at him, "hm? What?"

"Well, weddin's are romantic."

"Yea..?" you blink at him and sit back up.

"And when couples are feelin' romantic, they kiss."

Even as your face heats up, you let out a scoffed laugh as grins at you. His eyes are practically glowing as he wiggles his brows. "Ye don' wan the first time we kiss to be in front of yer family. We should definitely practice."

You laugh again, this time clearly nervous, but tap your chin in thought. "You do have a point..." You draw out as you think. You'd be lying if you said a spontaneous kiss from him wouldn't leave you flustered, not at all what the reaction from someone who has supposedly been dating for six months should be.

"Alright," you say and motion for him to fully face you.

His grin loses some of it's smugness as he leans in, one hand moving to gently cradle the side of your face as the distance between you shrinks. "Don' worry, I'll be-"

He doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence as you move faster than him. You quickly press your lips to the side of his face and with extra emphasis make a loud "MUAH!" sound.

Johnny stills, hand stuck in the air with a confused, stupefied, look on his face as you giggle at him.

"Is THAT how ya kiss yer man?!"

Now your giggles are a full blown laugh. "I have never once made out with a partner in front of my family! They'd instantly catch on if I started tomorrow!"

"Really?" He doesn't push for another kiss and even he is chuckling at the way you turned it on him. "Never even snuck out to be alone in some back room or somethin'?"

"Nope." You shuffle back under the blankets. "Now get some sleep, Johnny. I need you to charm some aunties into leaving me alone tomorrow."

He lets out one more chuckle before he turns off his bedside lamp, "alrigh'. Goodnigh, hen."

[casualavocados]

"Mrs. Coulter in the cave, watching Will, speculating; Will watching her, speculating. Their words like chess pieces, placed with great care, each carrying an invisible nimbus of implication and possibility and threat. Each of them afterwards felt as if they had barely escaped with their life."

HIS DARK MATERIALS — 3.02 | The Break — The Imagination Chamber, Philip Pullman

[bubblegumflavor]

Dally found Johnny at the lot. It wasn’t hard to guess, he was able to hear him bawl from all down the street.

He was sure he never heard Johnny cry so hard. He wasn’t much of a crybaby, he probably had the highest pain tolerance from all of the gang, but this wasn’t physical pain.. Johnny cried from a broken heart and he was the reason, him of all people.

Keep reading on Ao3 ♡

[shearingsheeps]

science team-tober day 8: misfire

(you can read the accompanying fic for today's prompt here!)

prompt list | science team-tober sideblog

[invisibleintrovertartist]

More neonnova stuff in the form of short messy comics + mermaid AU + the famous scene from a widely adored fanfic. (Also the 4th picture is kinda suggestive... 😬 I'm sorry for that. Try not to look if that's not your thing.)

[birchbow]

==> Snaketroll: snag hot older girlfriend and get absolutely topped

Yeah alright. Done and done, apparently.

Your name is VERATO UDERAK, and you're pretty sure you've just been successfully SEDUCED. You definitely always assumed that your WEALTH OF SECRETS AND INTRIGUE would keep you from ever being taken by surprise and lead to you being the primarily guiding party in whatever PALE RELATIONSHIP you eventually managed to establish, but instead you just got absolutely cold-cocked by a STONE-COLD BADASS. Emotionally-speaking.

Her name is Chayal Rishet, and she's a PROFESSIONAL LAUGHSASSIN of impressive renown. She's compelled you through several weeks of dedicated SECRET-SNIFFING and RUMOR-MONGERY just to learn the name and sign to her face, and when you proved yourself a CAPABLE CONTORTURENIST and tracked those things down she showed up at your door and made it clear she thinks you're PRETTY MOTHERFUCKING PITIFUL. In a HOT WAY.

So, anyway, now you're pinned to your couch.

Verato: Assesssss the situation :oY

==> Her body and bearing ==> Her face and affect ==> Her history and reputation

[maskeddarknes]

If your life were a book, can I be the footnote of your favourite page?

[sanowflower]

(Okay, this started out as an incorrect quote but it just got out of my hand... haha.)

It had been the grocery-shopping day, a day that Eddie dreaded, only made slightly better by the presence of his boyfriend. Thankfully, with Buck's suspicious expertise, they were done quickly, now walking back home. Eddie smiles at that, home, something warm crawls over his chest at the thought, it is no doubt Buck thinks of his house as home, a safe space.

They had decided to walk instead of taking their car, the supermarket wasn't that far and they enjoyed strolling down the road, shoulders bumping into each other, Buck excitedly pulling him to new or unique stores by his hand, or Eddie grabbing Buck's waist, trying to steer him away before he gets too caught up and forget their tasks.

It wasn't until they were near Eddie's place that Buck realized his boyfriend had sneakily taken all of the grocery bags from his hands, again. It's ridiculous, Buck can lift so much more, Eddie knows that.

"Eddie, seriously, what use is my 6'2 and 200 pounds body if not fo-"

As if he knew the exact words that would come out of Buck's mouth, he stopped walking, and interrupted Buck. Which he did very rarely.

"For me to love and cherish every part of you. It's not for being used and bruised, amor, your body is made to be worshipped by me."

Buck listened to him say these words and bites back... something building up in his throat. He knew Eddie genuinely cared for him in a way nobody did, but to hear him say it verbally, with such absolution. It was hard not to get emotional. All of his life, he was made to believe he was nothing more than a body, to be used, to protect, spare parts, that all he could ever offer was his body, something strong that made everyone except him feel safe.

Eddie, having some idea about the issues that surrounded his body, smiled softly at Buck. He then shifted all the bags in one hand and grabbed Buck's wrist, pulling it upwards as he dropped a soft kiss on his skin.

"I know you can carry it all, but you don't need to, you don't have to, let me carry it for you sometimes."

Buck was already melting into a pile of goop at his boyfriend's beautiful words, but being attacked twice was a bit too much. He knew the man wasn't only talking about these bags. He blinked the tears away, letting Eddie entangle their fingers as they started to walk again. He felt grateful, and seen, not only did Eddie want to help carry his burdens, he knew Buck could handle it, that he was capable enough...

To be helped and not be made to feel useless, Buck didn't think he has experienced it in a way he was right in this moment.

"I don't look it in front of your beautiful body but I am pretty strong, baby, I can take you in a fight before you try to reiterate." Eddie added the last part, seeing that his blond darling was calming down, and only to make him laugh, remembering their conversation that had led to a damn good time of their life.

Buck laughed brightly, eyes crinkling beautifully as his body collided lightly against Eddie's, then he grabbed Eddie's neck with a gentle touch, letting their lips touch softly for a few seconds before he pulled away, not wanting to get carried away, as they always do.

"Well, you are pretty and strong, I'd be a fool to argue with that"

"Which you do, at times, but you'd be my fool regardless"

"Oh my god, Eddie, stop." Buck wasn't used to this kind of bashfulness, no one loved him as tenderly as Eddie Diaz.

"Never, mi corazón"

[sunfloweraro]

More Pink Bunny AU!

AKA Twi taking the first opportunity to steal Bunny from Hyrule

(Tagging @thatonecrazysidekick and @tiredgaytheatrekid for more Bunny writing!)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Hyrule fell face-first into the swamp, the rabbit still in his arms.

The rabbit squeaked in pain as Hyrule landed on it and jumped out of Hyrule’s arms, its eyes wide and panicked. It struggled to stay afloat in the shin-high water, frantically flapping its little arms and kicking its legs, but its head sank beneath the swampy water.

Twilight rushed over, grabbing the rabbit by the scruff, hauling it out of the swampy water and into his arms. It latched onto him as he pulled it to his chest, shaking like a leaf, and Twilight was quick to murmur soft reassurances to the poor rabbit. Where it had been filthy before, the rabbit now appeared grey with dirt and grime.

“Yer okay,” he repeated softly, holding the rabbit close and walking them both out of the swamp. Hyrule hauled his head out of the water, face falling when he saw the rabbit in Twilight’s arms.

“Shoot, I’m so sorry!” Hyrule was up and sloshing water everywhere in a beat. Drops pattered down from his chin and drenched clothes, but he paid them no mind. “Is it okay?” He reached for the rabbit, only to pause when it whimpered, his face stricken.

“Ya fell on it,” Twilight said, pulling it away from Hyrule’s arms. “We’re both mad at ya.”

“What—It was an accident!”

Twilight hummed. “I think it’s better off with someone who ain’t soppin’ wet.”

“You just want to hold it.”

“Perhaps.”

[varpusvaras]

Bail stares up at the sky and looks his death in the eye.

He wakes up with a start and almost falls down, but his descent is stopped by the edge of a desk that is suddenly right in front of him. He grabs at it and stops himself from hitting his chin on it, and stares, with his arms shaking and his breath caught up somewhere in his throat.

He is not sure how long he stands there, staring at the desk which sudden existence he cannot comprehend, when there is a sound somewhere to his left and footsteps coming closer.

"Bail?" It's a woman's voice, so familiar but one he knows he shouldn't be hearing speaking to him. "Sir?"

Bail lifts his head and looks over at the voice.

He looks right into Sheltay's face, currently laced over with thin worry.

Bail stares at her. She has been gone for so long, but her face is now clear in his mind and she stands there, just like she was back then, just like she was before they had lost her. He had almost forgotten how much Winter looks like her mother, but there is no doubt of it now.

A new fear grips him. Was Winter off planet, when it all happened? He is not sure suddenly. She must've been, because Bail isn't sure what he is going to say to Sheltay otherwise. He focuses on her again, and thinks, frantically. Shouldn't she know it already? If Winter is also gone, now, shouldn't Sheltay know it by now, shouldn't her daughter be here with her? No, no, Winter must've been off the planet, just like Leia, otherwise he-

Bail looks at Sheltay again. No. No, something is not- something is not correct. Sheltay had cut her hair, just a couple of weeks before the accident, but it is now long and tied high up, like she used to style it when she was still working on as his aide back in the Senate. Bail looks at her more closely. It has been so long since he has last seen her, but...

Sheltay looks truly concerned now.

"Sir?" She calls again, and takes a step closer. "Is everything alright?"

Is everything alright? Bail thinks, almost hysterically. Is everything alright? You are dead. I am dead. Or at least we both should be.

Sheltay doesn't look dead, though, and Bail certainly doesn't feel like dead, either, as he draws in a breath to his now burning lungs. He draws in another, then another, before he feels like he knows again how breathing properly works. Breathing shouldn't feel necessary for someone who was dead, and Bail does feel the instant relief in his body with every breath he takes in.

"I", he starts. He what? He doesn't know what to say. If this isn't what comes after death, what is supposed to happen when one becomes one with the Force, then what is this?

He breathes in deeply again, just to ground himself further. He looks down on his hands, still holding onto the desk. He recognises the desk, now. It's his desk, the one he used to have in his office back in the Senate. He looks furher down, towards his feet. He recognises the carpet beneath them, as well.

He lifts his head and looks around once more. He is in his office, back in the Senate Building, but something is not correct with it either. Leia had been the one using the office more often now, and she had changed some of the decorations and brought in things of her own, and none of those were there now. The place looks just like it had back when Bail had been the only one to use it, back in the days when the Republic had still been standing.

"Bail", Sheltay is now standing right next to him, and reaching out towards him with her hand. "Are you not well? Do I need to call someone?"

Bail looks at her again. Yes, he can now see it. She is younger than what she had been at the time of her death. She is not wearing any of the gifts her husband would so often give to her. She looks just like she had back then, back when the Republic had still been standing, back when the War had been ripping the Galaxy apart.

Bail turns around. He has a row of glass cabinets situated behind his desk, and he looks at himself from the reflection of them.

He had already expected it, seeing himself with all the years gained during the reign of the Empire taken away. There is not even a hint of grey in his hair, and there are so many lines missing from his face that he almost thinks it funny for a moment. Then Sheltay is grabbing his arm, forcing him to look back at her.

"I'm serious", she says. She is looking him over now, her eyes racing over him up and down. "Do you need a doctor?"

Bail shakes his head.

"No", he manages to say. "No, I- I just need to sit down for a moment."

He really does. He takes a step forward, to walk around his desk, and Sheltay guides him over to he couch and quite firmly sits him down.

"Do I need to call someone else?" Sheltay asks again. "Breha?"

Bail looks out of the window, at the pale colours of Coruscant's morning sky. He then glances at the chrono on the wall. It's still early on Alderaan, too early. Breha is not getting up usually until two hours later, earliest. Bail doesn't want to wake her.

It hits him then that in this place he is now, Alderaan is still there. Alderaan and Breha are still there-

-and Leia is not.

It's a strange type of grief he feels then, not one he had thought possible to even exist before this. Leia is not dead, but she is still gone just the same.

Sheltay probably sees him look at the time, as she nods.

"Later, then", she says. "Fox?"

Bail stops breathing.

He stares at Sheltay, because he had been looking at her and cannot make himself move now to look anywhere else.

How could he have forgotten? If Bail is here, if Sheltay is here, if Breha and Alderaan are here, then Fox is here as well.

"Fox", He tries out his name out loud, and Sheltay seems to take that as a confirmation, as she takes out her commlink and starts typing on it.

Bail manages to move, and takes the moment to look up the date.

It's- he is barely second year into the War. It doesn't seem logical, for him to be put in here, in this time, if he truly is dead, not if not for some kindness from the Force, giving him a glimpse of a time when he truly thought there was still a possibility for a brighter future to be right around the corner, when most of the people he loved were still there with him.

It's just strange, to have only him be aware of it all, and not Sheltay. Bail doesn't remember a day like this ever happening before, not that it matters, if this is just some illusion before he finally ceases to exist completely. It's strange, to make everything appear right like it was so long ago, and not like it had been just before his death. It was strange, to make himself feel so alive, just to have him be dead.

Perhaps, a thought enters his mind and doesn't leave. Perhaps you really aren't dead. Perhaps you're here because of all the mistakes you made, and you need to repent for them, before you can let go and move on.

It almost makes him laugh. That, he thinks, that he can do.

Sheltay puts her commlink away, and sits next to him on the couch.

"He said that he will be here as soon as he can", she says. She puts her hand on top of Bail's, and it's warm.

Bail breathes in and nods.

"Thank you", he says, and then it hits him that Fox is alive.

He had thought of it just a moment earlier, but now it truly realises for him that Fox is alive. He has been gone so long as well, so long, too long. Bail has already grieved him in his heart, to a point he has almost stopped hurting so much. Bail had thought, briefly, during his last moments, that perhaps they could still meet before the very end, if he just hadn't already crossed over to where there was nothing left, but this-

This is an entirely different thing.

He needs to call Breha and tell her, he thinks, briefly, before he has to wonder if Breha remembers either. If it's really just him. That does make the most sense, as Bail is the one who had done all the mistakes, not Breha.

Perhaps he's in his thoughts for longer than he thinks he is, because suddenly the door is sliding open, and Fox is stumbling in, his hands already pulling his helmet off of his head.

"I'm here", he says. He's breathing hard, like he had just been running. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure-" Sheltay starts, but Bail doesn't hear what she is saying. He stands up, and walks towards Fox. Fox, who is hurrying to put his helmet down on the desk, in order to get his hands free, and then walking towards him.

Bail looks at him as he walks. He remembers it all now, how Fox used to look back then during this time. The way his hair curls over his forehead, where the silver strands are on his temples, how his eyes shift from dark brown to golden when the sliver of sunlight from the window hits them just right. There are a few things missing, things that Bail knows only came later. The way his skin would be bruised just from pure exhaustion. The way he would be tense, even when he was trying to relax, just for a moment. This was, is, before all of that. This is before that one night, when everything had started to unravel. This is before Fox had started to cry himself to sleep every night, calling himself all the horrible names there existed in the Galaxy.

This is before all of that. Fox still looks just like he had when he had still looked at Bail and Breha with wonder in his eyes and a smile on his lips whenever they would say I love you.

He looks just as beautiful as Bail remembers.

Fox opens his mouth to say something, but he is so close already, and Bail cannot wait for anything. He pulls Fox into his arms and holds him, trying to feel him through the armor. He buries his face into Fox's neck, not caring about the cold, hard alloy of his pauldron digging into him, and thinks he can hear his heartbeat beneath the warm, tan skin.

There are hands on his back, then one at the back of his head.

"Bail?" He hears Fox's voice clearly from this close, even though he is speaking quietly, almost whispering. "Are you alright?"

Bail breathes in Fox's scent before answering, a mixture of regulation soap, bolt residue and armor polish and just him beneath it all.

"Yes."

"You're crying."

Oh. Bail lifts his face up, just a bit, and blinks. There are tears stuck to his eyelashes, heavy and warm, and he thinks he can see some having landed on Fox as well, if he looks closely enough.

"I'm sorry", he mumbles. It has been a while he has cried, or been overwhelmed like this. He had not given himself permission for being nothing else but calm, when he had heard about Leia being captured. He had not let himself cry when he had held Breha as they awaited for their death, no matter how much he had wanted to do so. Breha had needed him too much for him to fall apart even more.

"It's okay", Fox says. He is carding his fingers through Bail's hair. "What's going on?"

So much. So much is going on, and Bail doesn't know where or when to start.

He knows he needs to decide on those, sooner or later, but before any of that, he has one thing to say.

"I love you", he whispers against Fox's skin.

Fox stills, just for a moment, a moment long enough for Bail to wonder if the version of him Fox had known before in this time had even gotten to say it yet.

Then he continues, running his fingers up and down, his other hand on Bail's back holding onto him just a little tighter.

"I love you too", he whispers back. Bail closes his eyes.

When he opens them, he's ready to take on the Galaxy, once again.

[owl-with-a-pen]

inspired by a headcanon shared by @jammatown919

It had become something of a rarity for Brainy to spend the morning with his wife. With much work left to be done at the new DEO, he was often expected there well before daybreak. Even on the occasions he was not, he was normally showered and dressed long before Nia had even taken her first sip of coffee.

Brainy cherished the slower mornings. Days when he could grant himself the small luxury of watching Nia as she slept – the first rays of sunlight that crept in through the curtains, igniting the edges of her dark hair with a fiery touch of auburn, deepening the serious furrow to her brow that often formed while she was locked so deeply in her dreams.

With a natural sleep cycle as regrettably limited compared to a Naltorian’s, Brainy often found himself watching her for hours after waking, holding her close when she inevitably rolled towards him, searching for his warmth when his unconscious mind escaped her.

Nia had once admitted that she never slept better than when he was right there at her side, and so that was exactly where he stayed, warding off her nightmares with mere proximity alone, ensuring her sleep went unburdened for as long as was required.

This morning, however, was slightly different. For he had been tasked with the exact opposite.

That night, Nia had made him promise to make sure she woke up on time. She had to be at CatCo a few hours earlier to get her article finished and on Kara’s desk before start of day. No special loopholes for being a close friend - or Super Friend for that matter - she was committed to getting the job done in the time that had been allotted, not a second later.

Brainy could respect her devotion to her job, though he’d begun to worry when Nia had stayed up halfway through the night to try and finish the assignment. By the time she’d fallen asleep, upright and against the headboard, he’d had to slip her laptop carefully out from under her lest she scramble what she’d written before tucking her properly into bed.

Brainy wasn’t surprised that her alarm elicited exactly zero response from her. In fact, Nia slept soundly throughout the obnoxious fire drill she’d set herself that night, blasting with the force of a DEO Kryptonite alarm from the tiny speakers. Brainy waved a hand towards her phone with a wince, turning off the offending sound with a single gesture.

He'd calculated Plan A at having a 0.02 likelihood for success anyway, which was why he was more than happy to serve as her contingency. Loud noises could rarely reach Nia in the dreamscape, though he had long-since learned what she was receptive to.

Brainy grinned as he rolled onto her side of the bed, careful not to jostle her. Nia’s brow quivered with a hint of lucidity, though it quickly smoothed over as her dream state reasserted itself. Brainy’s eyes tracked each minute expression fondly, simulating his next move.

With his previous success rate, it didn’t take long to devise.

Smiling, he pressed his lips against Nia’s forehead, breathing gentle kisses along her temple. Receiving no response, he continued, brushing his nose behind her ear, knocking a few stray locks of hair across her cheek.

Nia grimaced at first, curling tighter into her side, smothering a groan of protest into her pillow. Not to be deterred, Brainy continued his calculated pathway, running kisses along her jaw until he could feel her breath on his lips.

Nia whipped her head to the side, a little more forcefully than either of them anticipated, her lashes fluttering hard as she fought against the natural instinct to remain in the dreamscape. While she’d made some truly astounding strides in mastering her ability the last year, giving in totally to her powers did come with certain disadvantages – such as meeting a deadline for her day job.  

Fortunately, Brainy had found the perfect remedy. It wasn’t a concoction to be devised in a lab, nor a tool like her bracelets or wedding band. Instead, it was a gentle persuasion of the physical variety. The dragging motion of his lips and teeth tracking patterns on her skin, his breath interspersed in short hot puffs against her throat, activating her senses, teasing her nerves. Stimulus that, over time, was sure to rouse her from even her most stubborn dreams.

Eventually, Nia’s eyes held open and, when she smiled, Brainy’s heart soared.

He had learned early into their relationship that Nia favoured physical acts of affection. She relied on touch from those closest to her, something that Brainy was very happy to oblige. Truthfully, he hadn’t realised just how much he valued such acts himself until he’d made Nia’s acquaintance. The flutter of anticipation he’d experience every time her hand brushed his shoulder, or when she’d wrap him in a hug for something entirely mundane.

He hadn’t had much practice with those kinds of gestures back then, but over time he’d become inundated with them, learning not just to reciprocate, but to enjoy them as well. Since removing his inhibitors, he had discovered new and broader depths within himself, and with a greater capacity to connect with those emotions, he sought out affection more comfortably and confidently than ever before.

And so, when Nia reached for him, Brainy didn’t hesitate. He leant into her touch, pressing his cheek into the heel of her hand with a soft rumble in his chest. She grinned, cupping his face, her dark eyes shimmering, daze-like, as though she was still half-caught in a dream.

Brainy let her slowly trace the shape of his jaw, confirming her reality with every new stimulus, until her nails stopped at the corners of his lips. Brainy thrilled at that pinprick sensation, closing his eyes when her knuckles tucked beneath his chin, drawing him in towards her.

When they kissed, Nia’s hands continued to explore him, long fingers tracing electric pathways across the nape of his neck, down his spine, before hooking her thumbs into the elastic waist of his pyjama pants.

When they broke for breath, Nia laughed, nuzzling into Brainy’s throat. “Hey,” she croaked.

Brainy stroked the hair from her face, pressing another kiss against her scalp. “Good morning.”

Nia groaned at that. “Right. Morning.” She wrapped her arms firmer around him, arching upwards into the heat of his projectors. “What time is it?”

Her voice was barely a muffled vibration against his jaw. Brainy swallowed down a smile. “Five-thirty,” he announced. “Exactly as planned. I… took the liberty of disconnecting your alarm.”

A short laugh. Another puff of breath. She curled her hands back towards his chest, fitting into the shape of him. “Thanks.”

Brainy ducked his head, kissing her knuckles. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

Once they’d untangled themselves, Brainy headed out to the kitchen. He didn’t expect Nia to leave her blanket burrito behind until she’d been adequately caffeinated, and when he returned to the bedroom with a warm mug in tow, he found his estimation to be correct as always.

Nia lay in the exact position she’d been left in, one arm draped over her face, eyes half closed.

Brainy couldn’t help but smile. “Nia,” he said gently.

“Hm?”

The smell of coffee caught her attention at least. When Brainy sat, Nia lifted her head, pushing up from the mattress with considerable effort. Once she was upright and in no danger of toppling over, Brainy entrusted her with the mug. She held it close to her nose, breathing in the steam with a heavy-lidded stare.

Brainy stroked the hair from her face as she took her first sip, keeping any strays from falling into her mouth. It was only when he'd tucked them behind her ear that he noticed the sweaty tangles that held stiff to the back of her head.

He tried to hide the concern from his expression, though he couldn’t help but feel responsible. As much as he tried to serve as a barrier against her nightmares, a Naltorian’s visions could still prove quite intense, eliciting strong physical responses. While Brainy’s restorative cycle kept him locked in a singular position, Nia’s dream state left her body subject to all the stressors of the physical world.

Brainy inspected the knotting with a tactful side-eye, careful not to pull too hard. She must have tossed and turned one too many times in her sleep, leaving them to accumulate overnight.

He considered her current condition, still half asleep and leant reliantly into his side, before bunching some of her hair in his hand, kissing her shoulder where it had been left bare. “May I?” he murmured.

Nia’s eyes opened groggily, observing him through the vanity mirror on the closest wall. She took another sip of coffee, cringing when she felt the tangles for the first time, nodding her head.

Taking that as his cue, Brainy reached swiftly for the hairbrush on Nia’s bedside table. Kneeling behind her on the bed, he got to work, running his fingers first through her hair to separate the knotting, brushing from the base to avoid unnecessary tugging at the scalp. It was a methodical practice, one he had perfected long ago, and it wasn’t long before Nia relaxed totally into that rhythm, settling against his chest.

The buzz of his projectors kept her warm as he worked, restoring the silky texture to her hair as Nia sipped her coffee in silent contentment.

Married life, Brainy had come to learn, was something he excelled at. He enjoyed every moment, but especially the finer details captured in the mundane, manifesting even through the general chaos of their extra-normal lives. Running a brush through his wife’s hair, for example, and feeling her total trust in his ability to do so. Trust that had been earned with every shared experience, that they continued to build with each other every day.

Their promise to one another still held firm, bolstered by the union represented by each of their Legion rings. His love for her felt richer with every morning he woke up at her side, and knowing that there would be an infinite number of moments to follow filled him with utmost joy.

When he was finished, Nia looked up at him from her empty mug with a smile, the first spark of lucidity brightening her expression tenfold, and Brainy thought he might have fallen in love with her all over again.

Soon, they would have to part ways for the day ahead, but mornings like this would always be sacred to him.

He couldn’t wait for the next.

[monstrsball]

Iwaizumi doesn't know what to think when he finds his boyfriend in the entry way of their apartment, soaked from head to toe and clutching his jacket to his chest.

"I'm home." Suga says with a sheepish grin while he clumsily tries to get his shoes off without using his hands.

“You’re soaked,” Iwaizumi frowns, pushing his wet bangs back out of his face and eyeing the barely noticeable trembling of his shoulders. “Why aren’t you-”

Suga’s jacket meows.

Suga frowns down at the jacket in his arms. “You were supposed to let me do the talking first.” He says lightheartedly, his words are met with another slightly more indignant meow.

“Koushi, we talked about this.” Iwaizumi says.

“It’s raining, Hajime. The poor thing was soaked, I couldn’t just leave her out there.” Suga says, his tone soft. “Can we just keep her here for tonight? Until it stops raining? And then I’ll take her to the shelter.”

Iwaizumi wants to stand firm but his resolve slowly melts away when he looks at the cat again. She’s shivering just as much as Suga, the now soaked jacket likely not helping her keep warm. She’s nuzzling into his chest in search of warmth and it tugs at Iwaizumi’s heartstrings. 

He glances back at the door to the balcony. Still raining. 

“Okay,” Iwaizumi relents. “She can stay for tonight. Until it stops raining.” 

He has a nagging feeling that ‘for tonight’ is going to turn into indefinitely but the pure joy lighting up Suga’s face distracts him from this fleeting thought. 

“Yeah, yeah. You need to get out of those clothes.” Iwaizumi reaches out to take the cat from Suga’s arms. She's oddly compliant for a stray. “I’ll dry her off and get her some food and water. I think we have some canned tuna in the cabinet.”

“Ooh,” Suga whistles, gently depositing the little tabby into Iwaizumi’s open arms. “You hear that, baby? He’s spoiling you.” He coos. 

“It’s the only thing we have,” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, readjusting his grip once he has the cat safely in his arms. She nuzzles into the newfound warmth immediately.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

am i cooking ? perhaps ….

[the-ghostly-butterfly]

Snippet 1.4

Previous

The next morning, Henchman sat in the infirmary of Villain's Headquarters, the atmosphere as thick as smoke. Henchman figured Villain let slip to someone what they were planning to do the Henchman as a punishment for what they'd done, or maybe even details of how they'd be tortured or killed, or maybe even thrown out for the heroes to round up like a stray dog, most likely with their tongue cut out and hands broken so they didn't stand a chance at revealing anything they'd learned about Villain

They didn't really know anything useful for the heroes anyway. They knew Villain's favorite color (dark blue), favorite foods (anything with chocolate), allergies (blueberries), their least favorite movie genre (horror) and a couple other things they picked up from being around Villain so much.

They learned why Villain didn't get on well with their parents (they very much had a favorite child and it wasn't Villain) and what'd brought on their anger towards the Hero Agency once Villain brought them into their confidence, sure, but they didn't know much more about plans then the average civilian--that would be Right Hand. Their actual duties consisted of watching over supplies, managing other henchmen and keeping an eye on the overall workings of Headquarters.

Henchman hoped that taking down Hero would make Villain proud of them. Would make them allow Henchman into their inner circle and bring them into their confidence. They'd hoped to get as close to Villain as Right Hand--closer, after bringing down Hero. And instead, they'd suffered two humiliating defeats (and several broken ribs).

It all came to a head when Medic came in to check on Henchman's stitches. in addition to the blunt force trauma of being thrown through a window and into a wall, glass shards stuck into their back and left jagged, stinging wounds that oozed blood well into the night. Henchman sat on their cot, facing away from Medic as their wounds were inspected and re-dressed, and even then they could feel the hesitation Medic's hands, which were usually sure and quick.

Silence hung in the room like a dead man.

"What are they gonna do?" Henchman asked in a croaky voice, just barely above a whisper.

Medic paused. Considered. "What?"

"Villain. What are they gonna do to me?"

Again, they were met with silence. Henchman was sure the stress was worse than any answer Medic could've given until... Medic laughed. They laughed. It wasn't a snort or a scoff, or even a giggle--and they didn't even try to hide it! Medic stepped back for a moment, cackling as Henchman's stomach dropped. Of all the answers they were expecting, that was one they hadn't prepared for in the slightest.

"Oh, God, I needed that. You're hysterical."

"I'm being serious!" Henchman whirled around half way before the agony from the mess that somehow made up their abdomen sent lightning-hot reminders of why that was a horrible idea.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself," Medic scolded lightly, laughter still dancing in their eyes. "Have you really been stressed about that the whole time?"

"YES!" Henchman was near screaming now, though they weren't sure if it was ager or confusion that raised their voice. "Why wouldn't I be? Did you see how furious Villain was before they left? And I haven't seen them since. I left without permission and acted without orders; they have every reason to be upset. And everyone and everything's been so quiet today, it's like I've been handed down a death sentence."

Medic cleared their throat and the last embers of amusement flickered out. "Yeah, well, you're right about that, but you're not the one in danger. Or at least, you weren't when it mattered."

The tone of Medic's voice was dead serious--terrifying--and didn't help the growing pit of anxiety that had hunkered down in Henchman's stomach. They felt like they were going to pass out, woozy and dizzy and like the world was tipping out from under them.

A sharp snap under their nose anchored them a little more steadily to the bed they were sitting on, Medic having circled around the cot to look Henchman in the eyes. "You're fine, relax. The rest of us weren't supposed to tell you because it was bad, even for Villain, but I don't think you're in for anything more than a slap on the wrist, and neither does anyone else."

And they wouldn't understand that even if Henchman wasn't going to be killed, as thankful for that as they were, even a slap on the wrist as Medic said would destroy everything Henchman had been working towards. Everything they'd been hoping for. They should've known going into the fight that they were putting Villain's trust in them on the line, and they had--to a point.

They never expected they would fail as horribly as they did, nor that Villain would react with the kind of quiet fury usually reserved for their rare interactions with heroes or other members of the Agency itself. They hadn't expected to be sent to the infirmary the way that they were, or to be teleported directly to it from an alley just off the main scene of the fight after barely getting away.

And what they really weren't expecting was what hurt most: The fact that Villain had put them here and walked off without another word. They'd spoken in their office, but beyond that, there wasn't even a threatening note, or a warning given through Medic. They'd been effectively put in time out, knowing what might be coming but not having enough confidence to really prepare themselves one way or another.

“Hey, what did I just say?” Medic says, this time with annoyance in their tone. “Even if I don’t know the details, I know you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine, and I don’t think you’re clocking Villain’s feelings towards what you did to Hero as correctly as you think you are, yeah?”

Their assessment was fair, if not a little stinging. They’d never been good at reading people, but they’d hoped Villain was the exception. Even with their monotone voice and often stony demeanor, Henchman knew how tired they were in a glance after a fight; knew when to call for Medic or coffee or let them get straight to their personal rooms and block everyone else from entering–something Right Hand was usually supposed to do. 

The entire night, they’d tried not to deliberate too much on Right Hand. They’d tried to ignore the stinging jealousy of the fact that there was already someone that was so close to Villain they could almost read their thoughts. They knew Villain kept a certian amount of professionalism and distance between themselves and Right Hand that didn’t seem to be present between Villain and Henchman, but most liekly because it wasn’t seen as necessary. They weren’t close enough for it to matter in the first place. 

“Okay,” Henchman murmured, and one look at Meidc’s face made it clear to even them that they didn’t beleive them for a second. Nevertheless, Medic stepped away. 

“Okay,” they echoed, with much more confidence. “You seem to be healing well, all things considered, and I have other patients I need to take care of, so I’m going to leave you here, okay? Try not to freak out too much on me, yeah?”

Henchman gave a weak nod, and an even weaker smile. They were sure that Medic could see them spiraling form the outside, but if they did, they didn’t say anything about it. “Yeah.”

Next

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter @mylovelyme (If you wanted to be tagged and weren't please just poke me with a stick)