#and cats are absolutely PILED on top of him

[signanothername]

Could we have some soft/comfort headcannons about anyone of your choosing? It's election night and I really would like something soft for my brain to chew on instead of worry all night

Absolutely!

Imma give you a bunch of different little guys <333

———

Killer:

-his cats help him a lot with sleep problems, they make him calm enough to the point of actually closing his eyes whenever he’s with them (reminder that he usually sleeps with one eye open xhxbbx)

-after he’s saved, he gradually becomes better at eating, he still avoids food that reminds him of the past but becomes more accepting of other types of food, eventually getting his bone mass and weight back, going from lanky to chubby <3333

-he eventually accepts the state of his soul and instead of trying to fix it, he tries to understand it, understand himself, he becomes a lot more gentle with his own self

———

Color:

-he has albums upon albums full of pictures he took over the years, filled with places he visited, pictures of people he loves and moments he cherishes

-he’s very connected with so many people, and a lot of people find him to be a great confidant, he does a lot to help people where he can, he eventually gets the good he gave back with people taking care of him

-he’s in a queer platonic relationship with Delta and Epic

———

Nightmare:

-he has piles upon piles of gifts Dream gave him for their birthday over the years, he never got rid of any of them, these gifts are something he cherishes dearly

-he’s the one to introduce Killer to Ccino’s cafe, he actually did that with no ill intentions, and Nightmare himself is not really sure why he went out of his way to introduce Killer to the cafe

-he and Dream sometimes sit beside their mother in silence, just taking everything in, taking each other presence in, not talking or interacting, Nightmare feels peaceful during these moments, it’s the closest thing to the same feelings he had as a happy child

———

Dream:

-even though he has a fallout with Ink, he eventually remedies his relationship with them, they become best friends again

-whenever life gets too much, he goes to Swap’s house and stays with the swap bros, it helps immensely

-Dream never expects to receive anything on his birthday, that expectation is broken when he receives a gift from Nightmare, he never got another gift afterwards, it’s only that one gift, but it’s the entire world to him

———

Error:

-he thinks of Ink as his bestest friend in the world, he’d never admit that out loud tho dhdhhdhdh (they’re frenemies)

-he loves geno and Fresh dearly, they’re his proclaimed siblings, he’s more open about his love with them

-he actually takes commissions by making dolls for people who want them in exchange for chocolate as payment (his chocolate stock never runs out zgxggx)

———

Horror:

-He eventually finds a better relationship with food

-he succeeds at escaping from Nightmare and managing to keep his AU (and most importantly his brother) safe in the process

-he finds himself becoming best friends with Farm

———

Ink:

-his art is something others never see, but surprisingly, if you had the chance to see it, then you’d find it’s art the people they love most

-their fallout with Dream actually hurt him, so when he and Dream got back to being besties, they felt very happy about it

-he loves spending time with Color, Epic and Delta cause of their constant traveling habits, they’re very entertaining to be around

-while they spend most his time in the doodlesphere, the second place you’ll most likely see them in is with their parents in the omega timeline, he loves them with all his heart

———

These are the ones I can think of off the top of my head hdhdhdhdh hope they’re enough to rotate in your brain all day <333333

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

I have so many cats I can't help but think how fl would sleep surrounded by them in the colds nights, all of them purring and snuggling closer to him while I cry in the corner because I just can't

cats and Foul Legacy are a match made in heaven ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵃᵗˢ ᶦ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ

but you see, Legacy wouldn't go to sleep unless you were there with him and the cats. if you're in a different room, he'll carefully remove all the cats piled on top of him and leave to search for you, peeking into your office with a curious trill. he wanders over to where you're sitting, working on some papers, gently tugging your sleeve until you look up and staring at you pitifully, letting out a small whine. you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing at the expression on his face, mournfully whimpering and nudging your back to urge you to your feet, but brightening the instant to rise to follow him. Legacy chitters and sweeps you into his arms, happily meandering down the hall until he reaches his nesting room, a cacophony of meows greeting the both of you as he walks in

he sets you down so gently, several cats making themselves at home on your lap as Legacy settles in beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. the cats promptly swarm him, clambering onto his arms and snuggling against the nooks and crannies of your bodies. Legacy nuzzles his face against your neck, giving your fingers a few playful nibbles when you stroke his fluffy hair before sinking into the pillows with a rumbling sigh. a steady purr, from Foul Legacy and the cats, fills the room, multiple paws and claws gently kneading the blankets, the quilts, your legs. with a teasing smile you lean close and call Legacy your biggest, sweetest cat of all, and his crystalline eye glitters as he nudges his head underneath your chin, purring against your collarbone until it gradually tapers off, both of you falling into a sound, deep sleep in a pile of pillows and cats

[ecto-space]

alright who the FUCK spilt all these cheetos on my bed

[uravichii]

pov: you're drop-dead gorgeous (and they don't know how to deal with it)

character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kaminari denki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff, crack (?), them hyping u up like there's no tomorrow, uhh reader wears makeup 🤕

notes: this is for all u pretty mfs aka all of u whether u believe it or not YOU ARE PRETTY AMD HOT AND AMAZING 😡‼️ also disclaimer: the boys love u not just for your face. they think you're so cool for being beautiful inside n out and this is just them appreciating the out 🧎‍♀️

bakugo katsuki thinks you're so pretty that his only response to it is to be angry. he'd watch intently the way you'd smooth your clothes down and cutely fiddle with your hair in the mirror as if there's even anything to fix. he'll cup your pretty face in his hands and squeeze your cheeks together (cuteness aggression probably), "tell me why you're so fucking pretty all the time? what are you so pretty for, huh?!"

bakugo katsuki would always watch you do your makeup and hair and then slip into the prettiest clothes only you can pull off and he's just mesmerized by the whole thing.

"katsuki, please stop drooling and get dressed. we're gonna be late."

his only response is: "fuck off."

because he can never deny nor hide the fact that he constantly admires you every chance he gets. he storms his way to you and snatches a shimmery eyeshadow from your makeup bag. "tch, you don't even need any of this shit."

"you don't like it, katsuki?" you stare up at him doe-eyed, easily making his heart skip a beat.

"h-hah?! i didn't say that!" he shoves it to your hand, "now do this glittery shit next!"

and you just ditch whatever plans you'd made and spend the rest of the night trying on different makeup looks. he'll insist that you sit on his lap while you doll yourself up just because, and you gladly do so but then you both end up wearing a full face of glam makeup 🧍‍♀️ he doesn't know how he just let it happen but he's like, "whatever makes you fucking happy, y/n."

he then proceeds to tell you that, "every one of those ugly extras should grovel at your feet, worship the ground you walk on, and then beg for your forgiveness."

"forgive them for what?"

he stares blankly at you. "for breathing the same air as you."

bakugo katsuki's not active on social media at all but on his instagram, his first and only post is a photo dump of just youー the selfies you took on his phone, your date outfits, candid photos (by courtesy of bakugo katsuki) of you smiling at a stray cat, the power nap you took on his shoulder, and his favorite one by far: a photo of you wearing his black tank top that completely swallows you up, holding up two little peace signs on your cheeks.

and of course, he captions it, "u and ur ugly ass wish u were y/n."

shinsou hitoshi is convinced he's dating a model. he doesn't know how it happened, but he is a little proud of whatever the hell was in him that managed to rizz you up.

he thinks you look amazing in absolutely anything. so when you go clothes shopping together, he casually picks up all types of clothes from the racks until there's a whole pile of them in his arms.

when you shoot him a questioning look about it, he only says, "think you'll look amazing in these, babe."

he also picks up some accessories and just wears them on youー hats, sunglasses, hair pins, and you just let him because each time you let him accessorize you, he gives those little comments like, "amazing." "cute" "this one's tacky; i put it on you as a joke but you pull it off for some reason." "yes. slayed." he made you wear cat ears one time and he just melts right there, immediately taking a photo of you for his new lockscreen.

it bothers shinsou hitoshi a lot when people stare at you even when they can clearly see his hand on the small of your back. he'll slide closer to you and kiss the top of your head all the while he gives them a death stare he wishes he could do more.

he squeezes your waist a little to call your attention.

"hm? what's up, hitoshi?"

he looks at you blankly, taking in your features in awe as if for the first time again. then he stuffs your face into his chest, your legs staggering as you grab a hold of his forearms.

"hey, what are you doing?" you giggle in his chest. he's relieved you can't see his flushed cheeks. "hitoshiii"

"you're too good for this world, y/n. i need to start gatekeeping you."

what blows shinsou hitoshi's mind the most is how you're probably unaware of your effect on him, no matter how many times he's called you all synonyms of the word, 'beautiful'

he's sat on the couch, a tiny smile of adoration tugging on his lips when he sees you running up to him. your eyes brim with excitement as you call his name, truly the prettiest ones he's ever seen.

"something happened?ー" he pauses when you lean your face so close to his. he sinks back into the couch as the tips of ears start to turn red.

it takes a moment until he realizes that you're showing off the purple eyeshadow you had done on yourself, batting your eyelashes at him as you wait for his response bc right now he's just staring at you like 😦💘‼️‼️‼️

"it's the one you picked out from the mall yesterday. is it pretty?"

"y/n." his hands slowly find their way to your waist, "i don't believe you're real sometimes. you are possibly the most beautiful person i've ever seen."

"really?"

"god," he pulls you by the waist until you're sat on his lap, your legs straddling him. "you have no idea."

remember how bakugo said all those extras should be groveling at your feet and worshipping you? yeah, it's kaminari denki. he worships you.

he thinks you're beautiful and he's LOUD about it.

he's constantly bragging about you to his friends and showing off your photos (if you're comfy w/ that), "oh this? oh yeah, this is is y/n, the coolest, funniest, drop dead gorgeous, most ethereal person on earth and they're dating ME."

and bakugo would just grab his phone and knock it against his head with a thud 🤕, "WE FUCKING GET IT. NOW, SHUT UP, DUMBASS."

he'll rub his head while cackling, "whatever, i'm dating Y/N. who cares about anything if you're dating y/n?"

kaminari denki doesn't love you just for your beauty though. you're not just some eye candy to him. if someone ever called you one though, you bet he's zapping their ass and with the whole bakusquad by his side because somehow they feel obligated to protect you now too. 🧍‍♀️ (denki's effect)

and just as much as he compliments your beauty everyday, he never forgets to let you know how beautiful your heart is too. in fact, he calls you 'angel' because how could someone be this beautiful and be so kind and caring to him at the same time?

"sometimes.." he looks up pensively from his lap where you lay your head, "i feel like i've been blessed by the heavens when i got to date you.

"denkiー"

"don't even think i'm exaggerating, y/n!" he pokes your cheek when you turn your head to look at him, "you're amazing. i don't know what i did for you to give me a chance."

there are times though when a part of kaminari denki feels a little insecure because he thinks he looks quite stupid next to you, and it doesn't help either that the bakusquad never lets him hear the end of it 😔

"denki, you don't look stupid because you're next to me. you do that on your own."

"aww, thank yー hol' up." 🤨

he's pouting but you immediately wipe that off by apologizing and peppering his face with kisses, ending it with a loud smooch on his lips with a "mmmwah!"

kaminari denki now can't remember what you're even apologizing for in the first place.

you and todoroki shouto are so beautiful, the visuals are blinding 😩 you'd walk to your classroom together, him opening the door for you and you smiling at him, lovingly squeezing his arm as a silent 'thank you,' and people just stare with their mouths agape, not knowing who exactly to be jealous of.

shouto definitely stares the most though until it concerns midoriya, "t-todoroki-kun, you haven't moved in three minutes. are you okay?" because he might as well have drawn hearts on his eyes and stab an arrow to his heart with the way he looks at you.

todoroki shouto always kisses your eyes, nose, cheeks, hair, and your lips, of course, just to let you know how beautiful he thinks they are.

he thinks whatever you do or wear is so pretty, hence, the many, many photos of you on his phone. his lockscreen changes every 2 days because everyday he just gets a prettier shot of you, and he always shows them to you and to his friends and siblings ☹️ because everyone, including you, should appreciate what a beauty you are!

"this looks great! you'd make a great photographer, shouto" you lean in to kiss his cheek, immediately sending a flush across his face.

"well..." he looks to the ground, the feeling of your lips still lingering on his right cheek. "that's all you... you're beautiful. i don't know how it has anything to do with me, but thank you."

and then he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to silently ask for another kiss. you laugh softly at this, and when you cup his cheeks in your hands and start planting kisses all over his face the way he does to you, shouto confirms it in his mindー y/n is an angel.

todoroki shouto would get a little overboard with the photos though because he'll spam that button and keep every single one. when you ask why keep the blurry ones, he explains, "that's still a photo of you. why would i delete it?"

he also has a photo of his point of view from when he had his head on your lap. he said he wanted to capture "the happiest moment of his life." you convince yourself it's sweet but it's literally just a photo of your chin in a weird angle.

"shouto, that's just my chin."

he looks at you dead in the eye. "y/n, you have a lovely chin."

you call him a weirdo, which surprises him a little, but then you drape your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all over his face again because who else in the world would say that to you?

[teddybeartoji]

snow leopard!gojo, who pounces on you in the early morning, brushing his nose against yours. he nips at the soft skin of your cheek and then at your earlobe, giggling to himself as you begin to stir under him.

cracking open your eyes, you're met with a giddy big cat. his tail can't stop twirling around – he's just so excited. he bumps his nose into your again with a big grin before pulling back and situating himself onto your lap. he's so cute.

he thinks you're cute, too. all sleepy and comfy and warm. he watches you rub the remaining sleep from your eyes with a yawn and he wiggles his hips on top of you, diverting your attention back to him. he points to the window with way too much enthusiasm and he revels in the way your eyes widen at the sight.

big snowflakes dance in the air and it just looks so beautiful. no wonder why he's so revved up. the light from outside illuminates the whole room and you take the moment to admire him. his pretty crystal-blue eyes are glued to the window; snowflakes swim in the pupils and he's perfect. white hair and white eyelashes, he looks like a proper snow angel. his dark fuzzy ears twitch and a smile makes its way onto your face.

his tail swings by you and you grab onto it gently. it's so soft. you let it swirl around your hand and fingers and now he's staring at you. his lips are so pink and so are his cheeks. and the tip of his nose. he's extremely excited.

so, you usher him off with a laugh, ordering him to put some warm clothes on while you do the same.

he doesn't need as many layers as you do and he thinks you look absolutely adorable all bundled up like that. he fake-bites your nose just before stepping out, making your face scrunch up with a laugh. pulling on your gloves, you rush after him. his eagerness is rubbing off on you, there's no fighting it. he looks so happy and that's making you happy, too.

satoru doesn't waste a second before diving into the snow. he literally dives in head first and you stare at him in shock. his head pops back up and he has the most beautiful smile on his face. he shakes his head like a wet dog, making the snow fly everywhere. his eyes lock onto you and you know what's coming. backing up with a nervous laugh, you try to escape your boyfriend but you can't.

his giggles echo over the street as he tackles you into the ground. soft snow breaks your fall but it doesn't really matter because the only thing you feel right now are the butterflies in your stomach. he's so close. his whole body rests on top of you and it's nothing new; it's ridiculous, how he still has this effect on you. he brushes a few stray hairs from your face and his breath fans over you.

"you're so pretty."

his voice is gentle, the syllables falling from his lips just like the snowflakes outside. slow and full of love, ready to engulf you completely in them. there are stars in his eyes as he stares down at you – dainty flakes adorn his hair and his cheeks are redder than ever. he's perfect.

he presses a quick kiss to your lips and then he's already scrambling off of you, leaving you in the pile with a flustered expression. when you push yourself onto your ass, you see him rolling around in the snow and you can't surpress the loud laugh that creeps up your throat. his head whips towards you and he gives you another bashful grin. your heart feels so full.

satoru is laying down on his stomach and he's wriggling his ass like a real cat. he looks silly (and so fucking cute). his big crystal eyes stare at you over the snow pile and your cheeks hurt from smiling. he plays his part in being a big bad predator and he lunges at you again, proud of the sounds spilling from your lips. you spend another fifteen minutes by running away from him. by throwing snowballs at him. by getting tackled. by laughing so hard that you almost piss yourself. and by getting kissed stupid. he can't keep his hands away from you for more than a minute and you couldn't be any happier.

[abbyslvrrr]

Fade into you.

Boxer!sevika x topside!reader

a/n - I really hope you all enjoy this fic! English is also not my first language so I’m very sorry for any mistakes! Anyway I love sevika so much I want her so bad.

Wc: 1258

It was just another day for you, you had just finished up classes and were on your way home from college. Being a nursing student was definitely not easy. You got home and greeted your mother and fed your cats, ladybug, and Leo. You head up to your room and set your stuff up so you can start studying and doing assignments when you get a message from your friend Sam.

Sam <3: be ready at 8pm tonight, we're going out with the others. Wear something cute ;).

You wanted to decline the offer, but you knew how stubborn Sam was, so you just sighed and agreed. You study for the next couple of hours before you decide to get ready to go. You really had no clue as to where you guys were going, you just hoped it wasn't anywhere dangerous. Walking to your vanity, you start applying your makeup, deciding to go for a natural look. After all that, you decide to put on some flare jeans and a black tank top, deciding to just leave your hair as it is. After getting ready, you get a text from Sam letting you know that she and the others are here. You weren't really close with Sam's other friends, but it was fine. You sneak out of your bedroom and walk over to the meet-up spot. You spot Sam and run over to her.

“Hey Sam! Where are we going exactly?” You were curious. Sam was never the kind of person to tell you where you were going until the last second. Her answer surprised you.

“We miss goody two shoes are going to zaun aka the under city to watch an underground fight!” Sam said very enthusiastically. You gave Sam a look that said ‘what the fuck?’ but she just ignored it before dragging you and the others down with her. Was this really a good idea? Probably not, but you don't want to look like a loser in front of everyone or Sam, so you didn't say anything. After a little bit, you guys arrive in the undercity. Everything was different here. The people, the buildings, the atmosphere, everything. Staying close to Sam while she's taking you to your destination.

“Sam, is this safe at all?” “Oh absolutely not. We're here though!”

Looking at your surroundings, you notice how there is a boxing ring dead in the center. Did she just take you to see an illegal boxing ring? You notice that there's a bar and dance floor off to the left. God, could this night get crazier? Taking hold of your arm, she takes you guys closer to the boxing ring. People started piling in and crowding around you all, you saw people placing bets and getting drinks. Maybe you should have declined Sam's offer.

You can't hold that though for long before the announcer starts hyping the crowd up. You see one big man enter the ring, but you don't even focus on him because you see a woman enter the ring and shake off her dark magenta-coloured robe. She must've been 6’3 at least, her short brown hair tied up in a bun. Her muscular body looked like it had been sculpted by the gods themselves, her scars made her look intimidating, but in a perfect way. The announcer introduces the man to the crowd, but you don't care, being too focused on the big muscular woman standing in the ring, finally he calls her name.

“AND TO MY LEFT IS THE ONE AND ONLY SEVIKA FROM THE UNDERCITY!!!”. After that, the crowd went absolutely insane. She must be very popular here then. He then tells them it's time to fight. Before the man can get any hits on Sevika, he gets knocked out. 45 seconds, 45 fucking seconds.

The crowd goes absolutely crazy, crazier than before. The announcer announces her as the winner and after that some people leave, some stay and go to the bar. You let Sam know that you are going to the bathroom and that you'll be back soon. You were so unfamiliar with this place, so you kinda assumed where the bathroom was. You find a red door and a similar one beside it, so you assume these are the bathrooms. You push the door open, now seeing Sevika was not on your list for tonight. There she was in her shorts and tank top, her hair now down a cigarette in her mouth. She's looking you up and down, yep, and that is how you get beat up and die!

“I'm so sorry I thought this was the bathroom! I'll leave right away!” she had to understand, right? It was just a mistake, yeah, an honest mistake.

“Relax dove, you look like you're about to pass out or something.” What? Did you just freak out for no reason at all? She's just chilling with this? Feeling relieved, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Sevika just continued to look at you, she couldn't lie seeing you in that crowd made her feel a sort of protectiveness for you. It was weird because everyone knew that Sevika never had relationships, she was a person who fucks and leaves. Sevika knew you and your buddies were not from around here, she'd never seen you before. Your friends have come here before on multiple occasions. It almost made her mad to see you here. You shouldn't be here.

“Name’s Sevika. You probably know that though, Dove. What's your name?” Oh, she wanted to know who you were.

“My name is Y/n. Yeah, I saw you knock that guy out in 45 seconds! That's actually insane.” she lets out a little chuckle and getting up, she walks over to her. She noticed the confused look in her eyes. She really shouldn't feel this way towards you. Why does she feel like she wants to know absolutely everything about you? How your days are spent or how you like your coffee. God. She needs to snap out of it. Love means weakness, Something Sevika can't have. She's only ever known violence in her life and she's never really questioned it. You felt her lean down a bit. She tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I should go now, Sevika, my friends are probably waiting for me.” you fidget with your fingers, feeling a little nervous under her eyes. She backs up after a bit, giving you space. You really wanted to see her again, not wanting this to be the last time you two met.

“Come see me next week, Dove, I'm up again.” you nod and leave her room. God, what did you just get yourself into? Is this finally your way of rebelling against everyone in your life? Why did you feel this way towards Sevika? She's from the undercity, and she's a fighter, and you were the complete opposite. It'll pass. I mean it has, so you can't fall for someone who's from the undercity, can you?

You spot Sam and the others and practically beg for her to take you home. You felt tired and a bit overstimulated. you got to your house, and climbed the tree that's by your window and sneaked into your room. If your parents ever found out you were out this late they'd probably ground you for life. You hop into your bedroom and change your clothes before hopping into bed. The last thing on your mind before you drift off is sevika.

[lxvvie]

On today's episode of Simps-R-Us: A Guy and his... pet(s), or You, Your Faves, and your fur/feathered/fin-babies:

Capt. John Price - Standing ten toes down on this: Price would have two small, cute dogs, one named Sir Peabody and the other named Lady Marie. You two spoil them something fierce and they have a pile of little doggy hats that match their beloved papa's... much to his chagrin.

Gaz - Gaz said he'd surprise you and surprise you he did. He came home with a cockatoo. A damn cockatoo. Jokes on him, though, because your bird baby absolutely loves to prank the shit out of Gaz, too, by mimicking your voice when you're away and making him jump. Jokes on both of you now, because Soap has taught him how to curse and that's all he does now, Scottish accent and all. You have a picture saved of the bird (named Buttercup) on top of Gaz's head.

Alex Keller - Has the most gremlin Donskoy (named Brunswick) to ever gremlin, complete with the wide stormy eyes, which is funny because Keller can sometimes make a face that's very much gremlin-esque and the two greatly resemble each other. Can usually be found making biscuits on Alex's head.

Soap - Has a Labrador named Whiskey that he absolutely adores. Whiskey has also put you two in the most adorable of love triangles where you don't know whose affection you're playfully fighting for on any given day. Also has a tendency to take Soap's socks and he has to chase him throughout the house. Well, he and Whiskey are chasing each other throughout the house just about constantly.

Ghost - You guys talked about it but he surprised you one day by bringing home a Belgian Mal puppers who didn't make the unit. His name? Pup. Pup Riley. And Pup Riley is a ball of energy. Bloody hell. He always assumes he's going for a walk whenever you two make ready to leave. He also won't let Simon leave without him and so Simon usually has to create a diversion just to walk out the front door. It's also not uncommon for Pup to jump on his Papa whenever he gets home, too. Oh, did we also talk about the fact that Simon has to fight with Pup for his side of the bed whenever he's home or that Pup wakes him up early in the damn morning to take him out for his first walk of the day?

Roach - Found a stray kitten and brought her home. Her name's Oatmeal. Oatmeal is now the chonkiest, cutest loaf (you send Roach various pictures of her Loafiness). You two also bought her a set of those pet buttons just for shits and giggles and Oatmeal's really caught on to them. She uses "Dad", "Mad", and "Food" a lot even though she stays fed lmao.

Keegan - To everyone's surprise (and his own), has a husky named Balto who ignores the concept of personal space, loves to put his paw right in the middle of Keegan's face, and has pissed on Keegan's boots more than once because Balto felt slighted (you had to go to the groomer's, buddy, you rolled in mud). You and Keegan have also lost count of the number of times you've had to carry Balto into the house because he refuses to come inside, especially when it’s cold.

Alejandro - You two adopted a senior dog named Mojo who is the most peaceful little angel. Can usually be found lying near yours or Alejo's feet as you're working or something of that nature.

Rudy - You two have this huge ass tank full of fish that run the gamut of the rainbow and you remember all their names. The brooding one is named Alejandro and his namesake was not amused lmao.

König - You two have a small but floofy cat. She's black with a grey undercoat that he calls his "little Prinzessin" and she always looks like she's in a constant state of surprise. Whenever she blinks or closes her eyes, she becomes a floofy void. Her Highness prefers to be carried like a baby, thank you very much.

Phillip Graves - You two are the proud parents of a Bulldog named Bubba who thinks he has his humans trained (spoiler alert: he kinda does). Bubba Graves makes your day with the way he silently judges his parents, throws a tantrum when he doesn't get more food or pets, and usually has Philip sigh facetiously and go, "Now, son, why can't you behave for your old man, huh?"

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In contrast to my Dark!Rhys in Obsidian Salt, pls enjoy some fluffy werewolf!bat boy head canons that have been floating around in my head all day:

•Werewolf!Azriel who scents you before the others and (not so)secretly plants a little wolfsbane in the garden beneath your window to ensure no other wolves come sniffing around before he can claim you

•Werewolf!Cassian with extra long scruffy hair and a matching beard (I’m drooling) who loves it when you play with his hair or when you squeal when his scruff scratches your cheek when he goes in for a kiss.

•Werewolf!Rhys who INSISTS you cannot leave the house until he has rubbed his scent over every bit of you. He twines himself around you like a giant cat, making sure he pays extra attention to the scent glands on your throat and wrists. Anyone who gets close will have to get through the layer of him on you before they can even catch a whiff of your own scent. (He definitely rolls around in your laundry when you’re not home so his scent is on your clothes too but he always folds them neatly and puts them back before you get home)

•Speaking of laundry, good luck heading into work in any other top but a turtleneck or sweatshirt. Not because they’re so possessive that they care what you wear out, but those bastards are competitive and if one of them leaves a hickey they ALL have to leave a hickey. It soon spirals into who can mark you up the most and it gets to a point that your coworkers are concerned for your wellbeing. You have to, on more than one occasion, explain that everything is fine back home, great actually, but your werewolf boyfriends are very, very competitive (and definitely a tad possessive)

•The boys have lived a long time together, just the three of them, their scents over every bit of the house until the day you finally move in and start lighting candles and bringing home flowers to sit in the windowsills to brighten the place up; the first time the boys come home Cass makes a comment about it smelling weird in the house now and you dejectedly throw it all out thinking he hates it and you’ve now invaded their space. This sends Cass into an absolute SPIRAL because he didn’t mean it like that he just has been so used to the others’ scents. He starts bringing you home any flower and candle he can get his hands on to the point that the hall closet is precariously full of candles that have never and probably will never be lit.

•There is ALWAYS someone to cuddle with. On the couch reading? Cass is sprawled out with his head on your stomach, large arms wrapped around your middle, keeping you warm with his natural body heat. Sitting in the library working on reports? Rhys will lift you out of the chair and sit himself down so you can relax in his lap, head leaning between the juncture of his shoulder and throat, one of the few times the wolf will be utterly vulnerable to you. Lounging in bed, curtains shut for the night? Azriel will keep you tucked tight against his chest, one leg tossed over yours practically keeping you pinned to the mattress. Mother forbid you even try to leave. He is a vice. You are in bed for the night. Maybe the week, depends on his mood. And Cauldron Boil you if you’ve had a bad day, all three of them are piled onto one piece of furniture to hold you and stroke your hair.

•Their first full moon with you in the house is a mess. You come home from the store to find them dragging the thickest chains you’ve ever seen down into the basement.

“It’s for your safety.” Azriel says.

You bite down on the laugh that threatens to bubble up your throat. They’re really adorable, all concerned for your safety and convinced they’re a danger to you.

“You guys know this isn’t the first full moon I’ve spent with you, right?” You ask and the confusion on their faces is enough to remind you that they often black out completely on nights like this. “You all came sniffing around my apartment. I sprayed Az in the face with a water bottle infused with wolfsbane. Cass let me scratch him behind the ears like a puppy.”

Cassian is blushing so hard you think the pink tinting his cheeks might be permanent.

Azriel scratches the top of his head, trying to recall.

“And you,” you say poking Rhys in the chest. “Broke my fucking window, not to do any of the beastly things you think you do on a full moon, but to eat my chocolate cake off the counter! I had a full panic attack I thought you were going to die on my floor!”

“I don’t remember so it doesn’t count,” he says but there is the faintest hint of pink on his own cheeks, violet eyes glinting in amusement.

“So you can put the chains away, I’ll be fine.” And you’re correct. Cassian does tear the basement door completely off it’s hinges and the local population of sheep decline drastically, but at the end of the night, three large furballs climb into your bed with the first rays of dawn to cuddle with you, snouts nuzzling into your neck to breathe in your scent. The real inconvenience is that everything smells like wet dog in the morning and you have to wash the sheets twice to get the smell out.

Ugh I’m gonna have to write some fics about this soon!

[matchingbatbites]

2112 Days | Ao3 link

tw: memory loss

When Steve wakes up in the morning, he doesn't know where he is. The last thing he remembers from the night before is the party all piled up in his living room, everyone too anxious to sleep, and now he's in a bedroom that he has absolutely no memory of.

He looks around the unfamiliar room, tries to get a sense of what the fuck is going on, and on the nightstand next to him, he finds a tape recorder sitting on top of a photo album. On the tape recorder is a sticky note, with the words 'play me' written across the yellow paper in scratchy handwriting.

Steve is so confused and frustrated, he doesn't have time for this, they have a plan to carry out. But something deep inside him keeps him in place. Tells him to play it. He picks up the device and sees another note on the album, this one reading 'open me', and he presses play on the tape recorder before grabbing the book. 

There's a little bit of sound fuzz before a voice says "Good morning, Stevie!" and Steve blinks, because that's Eddie's voice. 

"Today is Saturday, August 29th, 1992, and it's been 5 years, 9 months, and 12 days since we killed Vecna and closed the gates permanently." 

Steve's hand jerks out and stops the tape, his breathing picks up because what the fuck? That can't be right, they're supposed to fight Vecna today. That's why they all stayed at Steve's house. One more sleepover, one more chance to be there for each other before they have to split up, before they have to finish the job.

He takes a moment to just breathe, lets the words sink in as he opens the photo album. It takes him a second to realize it, but the first picture is of himself, in a hospital bed, bandages wrapped around his head and a tube down his throat. He looks bad, and he doesn't remember a single second of it. 

There's more of that scratchy writing just below it. ‘November 20, 1986. Taken by one of Owen’s guys.’ The next page has a doctor's report, and Steve sees the words 'brain injury' and 'short term memory loss' before he continues. 

He flips through the album, sees more pictures of himself that he doesn't remember being taken. Each one has a date next to it, and some have a little description to give him context. There are photos of him with the party, with Robin and Eddie and Nancy, and there are news articles scattered amongst them, important things he should remember, that make his head hurt when he tries too hard to do so.

There are pictures of Nancy and Robin's graduation from college, Wayne's wedding to some woman named Cynthia, the grand opening of Jonathan and Argyle's pizza shop.

A photo of him and Eddie, wearing tacky sweaters and kissing under mistletoe, with the description '1987, Our first Christmas together', and oh, that's something that sends tingles up his spine. He'd had more than a crush on Eddie before their second run in with Vecna, but he hadn't had the courage to do anything about it before they ran head first into danger, again.

Are he and Eddie together now? Like, together together? 

The answer seems to be yes, because the next few pages are just more photos of him and Eddie, most taken by Eddie himself, his arm stretching out to capture the moment. Pictures of their first apartment, multiple anniversaries, the day they got their cat (Lucy is written next to this one in Steve’s handwriting, along with a little heart).

And then a photo that makes Steve's heart stop. It's them again, standing on a beach, hand in hand as they face each other. They're both barefoot, wearing slacks and nice shirts, Eddie's a deep, wine red, and Steve's a soft baby blue, and the love on their faces is blinding.

The description says 'June 15, 1991, Our wedding. Not legal, but very, very real.'

And Steve looks at his hand, for the first time sees the gold ring on his finger, like it's perfectly happy at home there, and he thinks he might start crying.

On the bottom of the page is his own handwriting, a small addition that just says 'play the tape.' Steve glances over, presses play again with a shaky hand, and Eddie's voice starts up once more.

"You got pretty banged up during the fight, and your many knocks to the head finally caught up with you. You have some extensive brain trauma, and your short term memory is basically non-existent.

"It's okay, though. You're not alone, you've got tons of people that care about you, baby. The Upside Down stuff is all over, there haven't been any blips on the radar or anything. The kids are all okay - scattered to the wind, but okay.

"Robin's in town today, we're meeting her for lunch at noon, but you've got plenty of time before then. Finish looking through the album, and as soon as you're ready, come find me in the house. Just follow the sound of music, baby. I love you."

The tape ends, and Steve takes a minute to process. He flips through the rest of the album, pictures dated all the way up to a month ago, when he and Eddie had apparently visited Nancy in New York.

It hits him that this is real, this is his reality. He looks at the tape recorder, thinks that this must be an everyday thing for Eddie, and he's suddenly overcome with emotion for the other man.

He climbs out of bed and grabs the tape recorder before he heads out of the room, hears music coming from somewhere, and follows it to a kitchen. 

And there's Eddie, with his hair pulled up into a messy bun, wearing sweatpants and humming along to the tape that's playing on a nearby stereo. There are more tattoos inked into his skin, more piercings in his ears, and Steve can see that yeah, he has aged a little. 

"Eddie?" he says softly, and the older man turns to look at him with a bright smile. 

"Morning, Stevie. How are you feeling today?"

Overwhelmed, Steve thinks, but he swallows hard and holds up the tape recorder. "Do you record these for me every day?" 

Eddie's smile softens at the question and he motions Steve closer. "You ask me that too often, like you just can't believe I'd do something like that for you."

Steve goes over to him, sets the device on the counter as one of Eddie's hands settles on Steve's waist, the other moving up to cup his cheek. "I can't believe it, it's so-" Kind? Selfless? 

Steve doesn't have the proper word to describe it, and it only adds to that overwhelmed feeling. Eddie's thumb strokes over his cheekbone and he hums softly.

"It's worth it for you, sweetheart. After all the shit we’ve been though, that you’ve been through, you deserve a normal life, and I swore do everything in my fucking power to make sure that happens."

And Steve is definitely crying now. The fact that Eddie has been doing this for almost six years, that he's stayed by Steve through it and hasn't given up on him? The effort he’s put into helping Steve feel somewhat normal? It's too much for Steve to comprehend, and Eddie pulls him into a tight hug, mutters softly softly into his ear as he starts to sob.

"I know, baby. It's okay." 

They stay like that for a while, until Steve's tears slow, then stop, and he's able to breathe normally again. "Sorry," he mutters and scrubs a hand over his face, and Eddie shakes his head. 

"Don't apologize, Steve. This happens sometimes, and it's perfectly okay. It's a lot to process all at once, and we just take it a day at a time, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," Steve says, and takes another deep breath. He thinks back to the album, to the photos of him and Eddie, and he knows exactly what he wants in this moment. "Will you kiss me, please?" 

And Eddie smiles, says "Of course, honey." 

It feels right when Eddie kisses him, and it's weird, because he doesn't remember ever kissing Eddie before now, but it's like his body does, like it knows all of the steps to this dance that his brain can't remember. 

They stay in the kitchen for a while just kissing and talking, Eddie answering all of Steve's questions with such patience, until it's time to go meet Robin.

-

Later that night, just as Steve is dozing off, he feels Eddie pull away before getting out of the bed. 

"Where 're you goin'?" he mutters, and Eddie cards a hand through his hair. 

"Gotta go record your tape for tomorrow. Just go back to sleep, baby." 

Steve hums his disapproval and hears Eddie chuckle, before a kiss is pressed to his forehead. "I'll see you in the morning, gorgeous."

-

When Steve wakes up in the morning, he doesn't know where he is.

[beenbaanbuun]

kitty w/ wooyoung

i crochet in my spare time and i cannot get my mind off of how annoying cat hybrid wooyoung would be while you’re crocheting. he would not be able to keep his hands away from your balls of yarn, smirking to himself as he pushes them off the sofa and watches them unravel. he just shrugs when you tell him off, acting like it was an accident and you didn’t just see him batting at it with his hand.

but the problem with that is that once he’s pushed everything off of the sofa, there’s nothing more for him to play with. he’s not exactly going to get on the floor to play with the yarn—he may be part cat, but he still has human dignity—and he really can’t be bothered to tidy it all up so he can play with them on the sofa again. unfortunately for you, that means his only option is to play with the partially made blanket that sits in your hands.

he pokes it with a finger at first, just snickering at the glare you give him before reaching over and tugging at one of the corners. the sigh you let out is cute, as is the way you slam your hands down on your lap, frustrated at wooyoung’s constant need to disrupt your peaceful crating time. it only makes him want to annoy you more, loving the adorably way you lash out at him with your whiny voice and your pouty lips.

“wooyoung, i will banish you to your room if you don’t stop annoying me,” you watch as his smirk grows. annoying little brat, that’s what he is. it’s a good thing he’s cute, because the way he purses his lips and quirks his brows lets you know that he has absolutely no intention of behaving himself, “wooyoung, i’m warning you.”

“oh, you’re warning me, are you?” he giggles, a glint in his eye as his hand comes to rest atop the crocheted square in your lap. he kneads his palm against him, purring a little as he feels the soft yarn beneath the sensitive pads of his fingers, “you want me to be your good boy? sit here patiently while you ignore me for your pile of wool? i’m bored; i just want something to play with…”

“wooyoung, i—”

he cuts you off when he grabs your face, smushing your cheeks until your lips form a little pout. a cocky grin rests on his lips as he pulls your face in close. dangerously so, actually. you see the way his eyes sharpen, pupils transforming from their usual sparkling boba pearls into slits. as if that wasn’t enough to send shivers down your spine, he pulls his lips into a nasty sneer and runs his tongue along his top row of teeth. he pays extra attention to the sharp canines that will no doubt be used against you when your feline boyfriend finally decides to pounce.

“oh, little mouse,” you try and ignore the way his voice dips to a dangerous hum; a dark hiss, that sends electricity running down the length of your spine. you gulp down a whine, silencing yourself before wooyoung’s twitching ears can hear how weak he has you already, “be a good toy and let me play, won’t you?”

[incorrectbatfam]

Tim and Jason headcanons 👀

One morning during breakfast Tim keeps excusing himself to go to the bathroom to fix his boxers because they must've stretched in the wash. Meanwhile, Jason can barely move and waddles into the kitchen like he has a rubber band around his legs. Imagine the horror when they connect the dots and realize their underwear got swapped

One day Tim's room suddenly starts to smell like tomatoes and he tears it apart trying to find the source. Turns out Jason put soup in the humidifier

Jason: *gives Tim an iced coffee*

Tim: "You put salt in it"

Jason: "No I didn't"

Tim: "I can literally see the crystals"

Jason: "What crystals?"

Tim: "Right there, all settled at the bottom"

Jason: "That's how the coffee is"

Tim still owes Jason for the time Jason stopped him from faceplanting in Alfred the cat's litter box

Contrary to how it appears, Jason's hair is thicker. It's so thick that Tim accidentally drops a glob of mayonnaise in it and Jason doesn't notice until he combs his hair hours later

They get bunk beds on a mission. Tim gets the top bunk after losing rock-paper-scissors. While he's asleep, Jason moves the ladder to the other side

Jason puts a cockroach on Tim's desk thinking he'll freak out. Tim, who's on his third day without sleep, looks Jason dead in the eye and eats it

As a kid, Jason often re-wore dirty clothes until he absolutely had to go to the laundromat meanwhile Tim washed his more frequently in small batches so he wouldn't get told off for having a huge pile. Cut to the present day where Tim's sifting through a mountain of Jason's laundry for a pair of socks and Jason is offering zero help whatsoever

They stand out in the rain to see who gets drenched first. It's usually Tim—he absorbs water like a paper towel. Jason then gets in trouble because Tim could've gotten sick ("Thanks, Bruce, not like I'm soaked to the bone too")

And when Tim gets sick, he refuses to take his meds unless someone sneaks it into his food. Finally, Jason has a use for the NyQuil Chicken TikTok

Jason drives three hours from an out-of-state safehouse to hide in Tim's closet and scare him. Little does he know, Tim is in the closet at the safehouse, waiting to pounce on Jason

Jason peels a pride sticker off a villain's car and gives it to Tim

Jason mixes all the Goldfish crackers into a dough and bakes them into a single giant Goldfish. Why? 'Cause he can, and Tim needs something to test his new food pic filters on

In March their patrols end by meeting at McDonald's for Shamrock Shakes

Tim prank calls Jason and convinces him he's lost in Metropolis. Eight hours, countless Bizarro flights, and two unfortunate geese encounters later, Jason storms into the Batcave while Tim simply grins and asks, "What'd you think of my new VPN?"

Tim and Jason find a wheelbarrow at a crime scene and keep it after the case is closed because it's a free wheelbarrow. This happens twice more and now they have enough for a family wheelbarrow race

Bruce makes them spend more time together, so Jason decides to teach Tim the Three-Card Monty. Tim just nods along because he doesn't know how say that he already learned it by watching the second Robin out-con a conman

Jason wakes Tim up one morning by chucking a feather duster at him, saying Alfred wants everything clean. So Tim gathers all the dust in his room and dumps it on Jason's bed before going back to sleep

The Ferris wheel has a clear "no food" policy but Tim doesn't listen and sneaks a chili dog anyway. Jason's in the seat below him, and it's the second time something falls in his hair without him noticing

Jason: "Red Robin, do you read me?"

Tim: "Affirmative. What do you need?"

Jason: "Pick a different gargoyle. That one's mine"

Tim: "I don't see your name on it"

Jason: "Check the underside"

Tim: "It just says Robin, so technically it's both of ours"

At one of Jason's safehouses there's a mysterious bucket in the corner of the living room. No one but Tim knows what it's for

[fbfh]

you know what I'm thinking about?? beck oliver. yeah the one from victorious first of all FUCK YOU dan schneider and I'm specifically thinking about this clip from the episode where they try to make a reality show about their high school 0:31

I really hate that beck is one of those characters like lucas friar and tristin dugray where we simply do not get more clarity on them as a person. one of the few times we get to see beck really open up and talk about WHY he's so passionate about acting and it's immediately cut off and overshadowed by how he looks. dare I say he has elle woods syndrome. "beck and jade are toxic" "beck should date cat" "beck and robbie fuck" yeah yeah you know what he REALLY NEEDS????? he needs someone that does not give a single fuck about how he looks. he needs someone who prioritizes HIM instead of his hair. yes he's pretty and he has nice hair but those are all sprinkles. he needs somone who cares about the rest of the cupcake, not just the decorations. I think the reason he thinks he likes angry girls who yell and fight with him all the time is because when he and jade fight she's yelling at him about anything other than his hair. he needs a break from constantly being objectified is my point. you know what would be great?? beck dating a screenwriter. someone who works on the scripts for the hollywood arts shows they put on. someone who hunts him down in the halls looking like they rolled out of a dumpster with sikowitz and reeks of coffee because they've been up for 36 hours to meet their deadline and finish their homework.

you are just that. you do other stuff at hollywood arts too, but there's really not a lot of script writers there, so you've found a way to pretty much corner the market and it looks FANTASTIC on your student transcript, plus you get extra credit for it, which is even better. you're wearing a hoodie that looks like you slept in it for two days (true if you had slept at all) and you're not aware of the two or three empty jet brew cups shoved into your hoodie pocket, plus the extra one you're carrying that you're almost done with.

"Beck!"

you manage to startle him a little which is surprising because he is totally unscareable. he doesn't think you've ever exchanged two words before now, he doesn't even know if he knows your name.

"I need to talk to you," you pant, a little delerious from caffeine and sleep depravation and excitement. "I finished the script for the next play-"

Beck didn't realize that a student was writing any of the shows they put on, he thought they were all lisenced or from local writers.

"It's a dystopian retelling of frankenstein with- with cyberpunk influences," you ramble, "and I need to know if you're okay playing the lead." you pant, still trying to catch your breath and not lose your train of thought.

"some pretty fucked up stuff happens and you'd have to quickly lose your morals and go from morally gray to kind of antagonistic pretty quickly..." you look up at him and hand him a script full of sticky flags. "I wanna make sure there's nothing that'll make you too uncomfortable... like I said it gets pretty fucked up, but I wrote it with you in mind for the doctor, so- just, let me know what you think."

before he can answer, you trudge into the janitor's closet and fall asleep on top of a pile of paper towels.

Beck takes the script home to look over, and he's genuinely surprised for a number of reasons. he expected to be typecast as the love interest yet again, but you want him as the antagonistic lead. it's a really complex role, and has absolutley nothing to do with how he looks. you even left a sticky note in there by accident, and he reads your scribbled handwriting. doc MUST be smwn who fully commits and dgaf if it makes them look bad or silly or unattractive. if they get self consious it ruins the char

underneith are two or three names scribbled out, then his, underlined several times. he is so genuinely shocked by this decision, and absolutely fascenated by your script. he's actually getting really excited to play a role that will challenge him for once.

the next day he meets you with the script tucked under one arm and a coffee in each hand. he hands one to you, and you thank him with a pleasantly surprised smile.

"You seem like you could use it."

"That's putting it mildly..." you mutter in agreement, and he bites back a chuckle when you remove the lid and down half the cup at once. You look at him anxiously after that, and your eyes flit between him and your script. "So... what did you think?"

"I... accept." relief floods through you. "I've already been thinking about my character and going over my lines. But why did you want me for Victor?"

You shrug a little.

"Well, you got the script like, 12 hours ago and you're already developing your portrayal of him, so that's a pretty good reason there," you chuckle, "and I... I hope this doesn't sound mean, but I don't think there are a lot of other people here who could pull off such a complex antagonistic main character."

you state, taking another sip of coffee.

"Everyone here is great, really-" you emphasize, hoping you don't sound like a dick. "I just feel like no one else could really bring the depth to him that you could. He's a horrible person, but I still want the audience to sympathize with him at times, and go wow he's a fucked up asshole at others without making it feel disjointed. I think you're really the only one who has the skills to pull that off."

honestly, if Beck had slightly less self control he would have started wailing and sobbing right then. Instead, he's determined to live up to your expectations and prove to you that your faith in him will pay off. You work pretty closley with production of the show, and with Beck. after closing night, you and Beck are still pretty close, to your pleasant surprise. his friends are a little curious why Beck suddenly is spending all his free time with one of those kids in their class who never talks or says anything, but he seems... happy. he did in fact fall first, and he definitely fell harder. he falls even more when months pass and he realizes you are still too adorably oblivious to realize how he feels.

[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : Diasomnia [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Diasomnia vs. Prince Stefan Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Diasomnia Version

ie. Apparently even Crowned Princes aren’t safe from being chastised by their Grandmothers. And all the while, Prince Stefan treats you to a surprisingly heartfelt monologue.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

Lilia herded you back into the castle with a look on his face that was not dissimilar to an aging mother who needed either a really strong bottle of wine or an even stronger exorcist.

Not long after the start of the thundering downpour, there had been a strange toll of bells. They were heavy, old. And the sour look on Malleus’s face had only shriveled up all the tighter upon hearing it. People had hurriedly begun to disperse at the sound, muttering (excitably? Nervously? You couldn’t tell) as they went. And that was when Lilia had bodily hauled you back inside, with the aforementioned aggrieved expression.

“…Is everything alright?” you asked, because you felt like it needed asking. Even if the answer was obvious.

Lilia smiled and it looked more like a civil baring of teeth. “Of course it is. Malleus is just in for a bit of a pep talk, I think.”

“From you?” you frowned, confused.

“Oh, dear me, no,” Lilia laughed. “From his grandmother.”

“His grandmother,” you repeated, and Lilia nodded. “Like, the current Queen of Briar Valley Grandmother.” Another nod.

Uh-oh.

“He’s not… in a lot of trouble or anything, is he?” you pressed, concerned.

Lilia sighed again, long suffering. “One could only hope. But, alas, she dotes on him terribly.” A pause then, as he tapped a pointed, black, nail against his chin. “And I suppose in comparison to some of his tantrums growing up, a tsunami is rather tame. He froze the entire castle one evening when his grandmother was too busy to attend dinner. Has he told you that before?”

“He what?” you gawked.

The grin playing at Lilia’s lips had softened into something begrudgingly fond. “Mmm. He was certainly an unruly toddler.”

And with that little tidbit of marginally terrifying new knowledge to tuck away, Lilia left you to your soggy devices. You managed to wring an entire bucket’s worth of water out of your jacket before deciding it was a lost cause and dumping it in the bathtub. It landed against the tile with a sad, wet, plap. You’d already gone through all the towels in your little ensuite in an attempt to mop up the mucky trail you’d left throughout the room, but you were still wet and cold.

You headed back into your bedroom, determined to just dive under the fluffy duvet and camp out until you’d stopped shivering. But then, there by the doorway was another pile of fresh towels. You picked at the top one curiously and it was warm—perfectly toasty and nearly steaming beneath your chilled fingers. The wet outlines left by your hands melted back into pleasantly dry softness nearly the very moment you’d even touched the fabric. You whipped the towel around, absolutely gob smacked yet again by the simple wonders of magic.

With your new supernatural squeegee at your side, you were dry and cozy within minutes. You weren’t sure who exactly had deposited these wonderful gifts at your door, but you thought back to Lilia and his dripping, wet-cat, misery and decided that he would probably appreciate one. And Silver. Sebek too, probably. And even then, the pile was massive. You could likely just go about handing them out to every drenched person you could find and there would still be more left. And also maybe it was kind of an excuse so that you’d have a chance to properly explore a super cool castle without Sebek breathing irritably down your neck.

So you hauled the neatly constructed tower of fluff into your arms and began your newest adventure.

Your trio of friends turned out to be very hard to find (and Malleus wasn’t even being counted in that to begin with, because if he was being sequestered off with his grandmother, that was just a lost cause). You did, however, very quicky stumble upon another familiar, damp, face huddled away in an otherwise empty corner.

“Hello,” Prince Stefan greeted cheerily, despite the fact that he looked like he’d been drowned.

“…hello,” you returned, trying not to stare too pointedly at the ever-growing puddle beneath his boots. “I didn’t realize you were staying in the castle too.”

“I’m technically a ‘special guest,’” he said, flapping his hand about lacklusterly. “Royalty, and all. So I was offered a suite here when I arrived.”

You frowned, perplexed. “Then why are you sitting in the hallway?”

“I was dripping all over the carpet,” he explained, a bit less cheerfully now. “And the bed. And, well, everything.”

“You could just change,” you sighed and moved to hand him one of the enchanted towels from your stack.

But the moment the fabric swayed into his little, personal, bubble, it darkened under an invisible spray of water and was immediately soaked through and cold. You could feel the icy slush running down your fingers to drip along the stone floor. Your eyebrows shot up your forehead and Stefan shrugged.

“See my problem?”

“Wow,” you whistled, low. This wasn’t just your average, everyday pettiness. This was advanced pettiness. At least he wasn’t frozen to the floor or something, you mused unhelpfully.

“It’s at least a little bit my fault,” he grinned, wry, and reached out to tweak one of the curling, dark, bits of thorns that you hadn’t quite managed to detangle from your hair. A drop of water fell from his finger to plunk against the tip of your nose. “Have you ever heard the story of the Sleeping Princess?” he asked and you blinked owlishly, thrown by the sudden shift in topic.

“Not since I’ve been here,” you told him honestly. Most of the fairytales from your youth back in Generic-Non-Magical-Origin-World had a, uh, slightly different tone than the one’s you’d been treated to here. And you weren’t sure just how far the hero worship of characters you’d only ever known as villains extended beyond the hallowed halls of Night Raven. “But I know the gist of it.”

“There’s all different versions out there at this point,” Stefan hummed. “And I don’t think anyone really knows how much of it is real or how much has just changed over time. But the point being…” he huffed, brow pinching a bit. “One part that stays the same no matter who’s telling it is that, at the end, the Prince and the Dragon always fight each other without fail. Sometimes the Prince wins, and a lot of times the Dragon just swallows him whole. But either way, they always fight.”

He let out a great, big, gust of a sigh and his head fell back to rest against the wall with a soft thump.

“A lot of people say that my family is descended from that Prince—from a long line of dragon slayers, and heroes. And even more people look at the Thorn Fairy, and then at the Draconia line and all their horns, and scales, and whatever… I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s not that hard to put two-and-two together, and that two-and-two adds up to ‘oh wow, our families are just destined to hate each other, aren’t they?’” he bemoaned.

“I mean,” you frowned, “it’s not like you’re actually here to try and duke it out with Malleus or anything, right? You guys don’t have to fight each other,” you said, firm. “This is real life, not a story. You can make your own choices about how you’d like to treat each other.”

“I know that,” he grumbled, dejected. “It’s just—I know that it’s taken a really long time for our Houses to be on even semi-decent terms with one another, and…” He groaned and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “And now I might have gone and wrecked all of that. And I’m probably going to wind up getting eaten by a dragon. And even if I live through all of that, my mother’s still going to kill me, because I wasn’t even supposed to be here to begin with! Great. What a day.”

You patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“If it helps,” you reassured, “I don’t think Tsunotarou would actually eat you.”

“Maybe,” he mused, expression scrunching in thought. “I’d probably taste terrible. It wouldn’t be worth picking me out of his teeth…” He paused, that contemplative look still tugging at his face. And then his hazel eyes shot open wide and he swiveled on you with his jaw nearly hanging off his face. “Tsunotarou?!”

“Uh,” you said, like a perfectly well-spoken and intelligent human being.

The stern line of Stefan’s mouth wobbled and then he burst out into raucous laughter. His shaking shoulders splattered droplets of rainwater all over the wall, the floor, you. After taking a long moment to nearly giggle himself into an early grave, he rose back his full height and wiped at his eyes.

“Man,” he chuckled into his palm, “I really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

“Huh?” you echoed back, confused, and he reached out to jovially pat you on the back.

“Ignore me! But, anyways. Why don’t I escort you back to your Horned Prince now, hmm?” he offered, something bright and amused dancing in his eyes. “I bet no one’s showed you where to find the Royal Chambers, or any of the rooms they use for private audiences and stuff like that. If those bells earlier were anything to go by, that’s where he’ll be.”

.

.

Malleus was slipping out from behind a set of heavy, black, double doors just as you approached. The puckered pout on his face had relaxed into an expression that wasn’t quite solemn, but certainly quiet—thoughtful. At the very least, there wasn’t a literal storm cloud brewing over his head anymore, so you assumed he hadn’t been chewed out too terribly.

He looked up as you made your way down the hall, and the fae’s neon glare locked onto Stefan with all the subtly of a fighter jet. But he didn’t snarl or curse the two of you out of existence, so that was a good sign at least. There was only the faintest stirring of a rumble somewhere distant, and it settled back into silence quickly enough.

“Briar Prince,” Stefan called, before Malleus could speak up. The brunette ducked forward into a gentle bow, hand raised politely to his chest. “It’s good to see you’re feeling yourself again. I thought I’d do you the kindness of returning your friend to you—I know that castle halls can be tricky to navigate without a bit of assistance.”

Malleus hummed low in his throat, the skin around his eyes drawn tight with obvious suspicion. A thick, wet, trickle of rain dripped from Stefan’s fringe to plop loudly against the floor. He straightened, that familiar, bright, smile dancing across his mouth.

“And I apologize if I caused you any offense,” Stefan continued, genuine warmth suffusing the sentiment. “I can assure you, it wasn’t done with any malicious intent.”

“…Your apologies are appreciated but not entirely warranted,” Malleus responded stiffly after a moment. There was a bit of a grumpy slouch to him, like a child being forced to apologize in front of the class for pushing another kid around at recess. “I have been dutifully informed that if I expect others to meet my own expectations of a situation, then I must be more forthright about those intentions to begin with. And moreover, my reaction may have been a bit… severe.”

A driblet of wet slush fell from Stefan’s coat with an impossibly heavy splat.

“Water under the bridge,” he laughed merrily. The Prince watched, expectantly, like he was waiting for the moment that the pun would sink in. But Malleus merely blinked back at him, reptilian and slow. His smile drooped a bit before he shook himself back into joviality. “Anyways, I should go and try to dry off again. Before I ruin any more of your upholstery.”

“Do indeed,” Malleus droned. Something small and smoky sparked across his fingers almost faster than you could see, before vanishing just as quickly.

The dragon fae’s stiff-lipped glower followed Prince Stefan until he had rounded the corner and disappeared from sight—the brunette looking perhaps just a bit less drowned than he had before.

“Well,” you hummed after a minute or two of awkward silence, rocking back and forth on your heels. “If that’s all sorted, it’s still technically the Festival, isn’t it? What should we do? I’m yours for the evening.”

Malleus rested his knuckles against his chin, and looked to be deep in thought—like you’d asked him to explain the meaning of life and not just if he wanted to wander around with you looking at vendor stalls. He stood and pondered for so long that you started to grow antsy, hands twisting at your sides. You were just about to interrupt his meandering thoughts to tell him not to worry about it when his eyes slipped back open and drifted down the smooth, black, leather covering his palm. You weren’t sure what he was seeing there exactly that was so riveting, but there was a bit of a stain there—brushing up along the otherwise pristine glove and stretching just to the edges of his wrist. His brow pinched and he frowned.

“Come,” he said finally, with no other indications as to what the fuck could possibly be swirling around in his head, and offered you his arm.

You took it dutifully and followed him through the cavernous halls of his castle. It was quiet, peaceful, and you tried not to openly gape like an uncultured plebian at the endless stretches of ancient artworks, and weapons, and architecture.

“Do you recall the birthday cards I mentioned that my Grandmother has delivered to me each year?” Malleus asked as you came to a stop by a small enclave, at the end of which stood a thin, glass-framed, doorway—like something you might see in a greenhouse.

You nodded. “You said she sends you seeds with them. Roses?”

He hummed, a tiny smile quirking his lips. “Precisely.”

The fae Prince pushed open the opalescent door and your jaw nearly fell to the floor.

You’d witnessed your fair share of magical marvels at this point, but the Rose Garden beyond that threshold was a wonder that took your breath away. You could call it overgrown, but that would be an understatement—not to mention imply a level of neglect that was entirely erroneous. Each bush was flawlessly groomed and tended to, sprouting higher and wider than you were tall. The entire garden was full to bursting. An endless sea of flowers crowded the grounds, the stone walls. They crawled up dozens of intricate, black, arches and curled along the edges of neatly swept paths. It made Heartslabyul’s grandiose maze look like a mowed lawn.

“Commonfolk are always so bizarrely intrigued by the notion of creating ties to their rulers. Holidays, parties, festivals…” Malleus mused as he led you through the blooms. “My Grandmother thought it would be fitting—if there was an aspect of myself that ought to be celebrated by the masses, it may as well be my roses.” His lips curved into a pointed smirk. “I’ve been told it’s one of my more palatable interests.”

“This is amazing,” you finally managed to blubber out—terrified to touch and accidentally maim any of the crimson petals, but also desperate to reach out and try. They looked so invitingly delicate.

“I’m glad you like it,” Malleus smiled. “I do miss it terribly when we’re at school. I’ve been eager to show it to you.” He paused at the heart of the garden and glanced around with a stern sort of determination. “Each year I choose the loveliest of them to preserve—a bit of a tradition with the Festival.” His lips ticked down at the corners. “Unfortunately, the rose I selected earlier seems to… not have been long for this world.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, thinking back to the singed curtains and sea of ash climbing the foyer wall. And then—“Wait. Are you telling me that those preparations—the eight hours you were gone—you were just picking a flower?”

His mouth twisted into a pout. “There are a lot to choose from. Often the process takes days, but I was trying to hurry for your sake. I know that I don’t have as much time to spend with you as I would often like, and I would prefer to waste as little of it as I can.”

You opened your mouth to respond (with what, who even knew) and closed it again. Something warm and bubbly worked its way through your stomach and along your cheeks.

“…okay,” you squeaked after a moment, and then cleared your throat. Your ears were burning. “So you just—you need to pick another one then, right?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “And I was hoping you might assist me.”

“You said you preserve the roses you choose,” you said after a quiet moment, fighting the urge to fidget with your fingers. “Like, forever? Forever, forever?”

“As long as forever can be, I suppose,” Malleus hummed, looking entirely unbothered by the weighty concept of eternity.

“Oh,” you murmured, reaching out to trail a careful finger along one of the immaculately groomed bushes. “…I mean, that’s a bit of a tall order for a human then, isn’t it? Trying to find something good enough to keep for all time.”

Malleus turned on you then with one of those rare smiles that was small and crooked—the one that never looked quite right on his face but still managed to somehow soften the sharp, reptilian, angles of his expression into something warm. He reached out towards the rose sitting beside your curious fingers and plucked it at the stem. He leaned forward slowly, gingerly, and tucked it behind your ear with a fondness the belied dozens of things left unsaid, and dozens more that you were too flustered to even begin to consider. That little smile widened until the points of his canines were just peeking out over his lip and he hummed, content.

“I’m sure you’ll manage.”

.

.

.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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[dewsgremlin]

Kevin is absolutely annoyed by ghouls and would like to send them all back to the pit

cw: Kevin hates ghouls

(he would prefer any other demon because ghouls cause so much chaos)

Kevin hates ghouls with a passion.

Not because he's afraid of them, no, on the contrary, you can't have less respect for them than Kevin. He just thinks they're annoying little beasts, like particularly vicious chihuahuas from hell. Dewdrop, Phantom and Rain especially get on his nerves. Phantom because he's always clinging to Kevin like a leech. Dewdrop because he's a little gremlin who just causes chaos that Kevin then has to clean up. And Rain isn't that bad but he isn't good at speaking human language that Kevin usually doesn't understand what the water ghoul is stammering anyway. Well, Kevin could speak ghoulish if he wanted to, but in the end these pests would annoy him even more.

The worst is when he has to fix something in the ghoul wing.

For example, the other day, when he just wanted to clean the clogged drain in the kitchen sink, he was surrounded by ghouls within a few minutes. They reminded him of a bunch of starving cats, the way they stalked around him and cast curious glances over his shoulder.

Phantom was immediately glued to him again, practically tugging at Kevin's hair and clothes. Then Aether, who kept his distance but intermittently gave advice that Kevin hadn't asked for. "You should unscrew the drain pipe first" and "Are you sure you've mixed the cleaning concentrate sufficiently? Otherwise it could damage the pipes."

Kevin wanted to hit Aether in the face. But instead he contented himself with glaring at the sink while he worked.

At one point he accidentally hit Rain's forehead with his knee because Rain was squeezing himself on the floor between him and the bucket that Kevin had used to catch all the muck from the drainpipe. With an annoyed look, Kevin noticed that the water ghoul had started collecting small pieces that had landed in the drainpipe from the bucket.

"Stop that! You're just making everything dirty," he growled as Rain pulled his hands back and placed a marble, dripping with dirt, on the ground.

Rain just babbled incomprehensible things as he began to dig in the muck again.

"Why do you forbid Rain that?", whispered Phantom and came so close to Kevin that he felt the ghoul's warm breath brushing over his ear.

Kevin sighed with the burden of a man who would rather tend a sack full of fleas than a handful of ghouls.

Why couldn't the clergy have chosen other demons? There were many species that were less unruly than ghouls. Kevin even had the feeling that chaos ghouls not only enjoyed themselves, but that they actually drew their energy from it. He had once expressed this thought to Sister Imperator, but she had just laughed at him and said that he just had to learn to assert himself. That could only come from someone who didn't have to deal with these plagues on a daily basis.

Annoyed, Kevin stuck the spiral into the drain to push out the last bit of snot, while at the same time swatting away Rain's fingers that had appeared on the edge of the sink.

Since Copia had risen to the top of the ministry and had a bit more say, Kevin was no longer even allowed to sprinkle holy water on the ghouls to keep them away. After all, that would hurt the ghouls, the youngest Emeritus brother had explained his decision. Simply ridiculous. When Kevin had started working for the clergy, ghouls had just been treated like ghouls. But since Copia had shown up here, Kevin had to treat these creatures as if they had more feelings than lust, hunger and thirst.

Finally, the resistance in the drain was released and with a slap, a pile of mud landed in the bucket.

"Is that...sand?" asked Aether, astonished. Kevin shrugged his shoulders in resignation. "How do I know what kind of crap you always pour down the drain?!" He pulled the spiral back and knelt under the sink to screw the pipe back on.

Phantom also knelt down next to him and grabbed one of Kevin's long strands of hair to chew on.

"I'm clearly not being paid well enough for this," the brown haired growled, shooing back first Phantom and then Rain, whose hand had already disappeared back into the bucket.

Under the curious gaze of the ghouls, Kevin screwed the pipe back on, sat up with his aching back and picked up the bucket.

"It would be nice if you could just stop breaking or clogging anything for more than three days," Kevin grumbled, looking sternly at Aether. The quintessence ghoul had spent the last few minutes watching with his hands on his hips and a critical expression. "I'm doing my best, but you know what they're like." Kevin only snorted in response. He watched as Aether disappeared into the living room before he too turned to leave. The ghoul was talking to Kevin as if they were eye to eye. Kevin shook his head.

Ghouls.

He was about to close the door behind him when Rain slithered through and tugged at his sleeve. His big blue eyes bored into his.

"What?" Kevin asked slightly suprised. Rain's mouth opened and closed a few times without any words coming out. Then, finally, when Kevin's already extremely thin thread of patience was about to snap, Rain managed to say a word.

"Encore."

He had always thought that Rain simply didn't speak human language, but apparently the ghoul was just stupid. In a good-natured tone, as if he was talking to someone particularly retarded, Kevin replied. "I know you did a great job on the ghovie. We're all very proud of you. But I," he pointed to himself, "have to go now," he pointed to the door.

Rain tilted his head, confused. He's probably doing this so that the few brain cells he has will slip into the same corner, Kevin thought spitefully.

The water ghoul tugged at his sleeve again, this time more frantically. "encore, encore, encore Dew."

Confused, Kevin turned around and froze.

Dewdrop stood at the sink and calmly poured a thick liquid into it. Kevin now also noticed the penetrating smell of ammonia. The damned ghoul poured wall paint into the sink. Kevin blinked. The man was too stunned to even utter a word.

He definitely needed a bottle of whiskey tonight. Better yet, two. And brandy. A lot of it.

[buckyalpine]

Peter’s Hamster

Crack fic alert: Imagine Bucky with a pet he never wanted. He’s around the compound more cause he’s taking a break from missions for a while. In the meantime, Peter brought a hamster from the pet store and Tony is not having any of it.

“No”

“C’mon Mr. Stark, you won’t even notice him-

“I can smell him from the lab”

“I’ll invent something to stop the smell”

“Aren’t pets expensive”

“Aren’t you a billionaire?”

“Shut up Romanoff”

“He was like 2 bucks!”

Peter manages to squirrel his way into keeping his newest friend but there’s still the matter of who would care for him when everyone else as away on missions. Anyway, Bucky made it clear he would have no part in hamster sitting. Not one bit. If everyone was away then the hamster would have to fend for himself.

Like today. It had already been a few days since the collective team had left leaving Bucky in perfect solitude with his worn copy of the hobbit and his secret guilty pleasure; peanut butter cups. No one would ever EVER see the former winter soldiers suck off the chocolate left on the wrapper, licking his lips like a cat after every bit between flipping pages.

It was perfect.

Except.

Bucky could hear the sound of the squeaky wheel of the hamster going at full speed, the high pitched squeals piercing through the air.

“For fucks sake, can’t you keep it down” he grumbled before pausing and closing his eyes. “…I’m talking to a hamster”

….

“who can’t hear me”

Eventually the rustling and scurrying gets to him so he reluctantly goes over to Peters room to see what the 3 gram rodent is up to. He notices the pellet bowl is empty and water has almost run dry, though the little fur ball didn’t seem to care just yet, more concerned about cleaning and pawing at his face.

“If you had more than half a brain cell you would’ve escaped and fed yourself” Bucky scoffed, ready to turn on his heel but the tiny beady eyes that look at him make him stop.

“Pathetic” he mumbled before finding the bag of food under a pile of Peter’s clothes “no more wonder he bought a hamster, he lives like one”

The hamster nudges against him when he refills his bowl, using it as an opportunity to escape by climbing up his arm and sitting on his shoulder.

“Seriously”

The small light brown puffball stayed there while Bucky scoffed, plucking him off and plopping him back in, narrowing his eyes at it.

“This was a one time thing. Figure it out”

Is what he said and fully intended on standing by but the squeaky wheels and rustling get to him. At one point, he swears it’s on purpose as the hamsters way of getting his attention for a food refill.

So he takes matters into his own hands

“If you won’t feed yourself, I’ll teach you”

So the late night sessions begin. Rigorous circuits for the thing that was smaller than his palm, learning how to scale the cake, click the lock open and nibble its way into the pellets. 

“I’m training a hamster” 

Bucky caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, a few stray pieces of woodchips dusting his clothes while the hamster (who he now called PB....based on an interesting choice...) completed another around in less than 0 seconds. 

“I’m training a fucking hamster” 

“Good Job PB” Bucky petted his head with one finger, stopping when he was about to comment on his ability to climb the cage, 

“And still talking to it” 

Imagine the absolute confusion the team feels when they get back to find random clear tubes running along the walls, each connecting to a different room, most tubes leading to the snack cupboards and counter tops. 

The walk into the living room and no one breathes a word, too entranced by the sight of a very focused Bucky and Peter’s hamster, perched on the super soldier. He sits on Bucky's shoulder, remnants of sunflower seeds left over on the coffee table while Bucky nibbles on a peanut butter cup. 

“What the fuck” 

Bucky turned around to find everyone staring at him with a variety of expressions from shock to amusement to utter confusion. At this point, Bucky couldn’t not care less, shrugging before holding up a seed to his shoulder so PB could grab it in his tiny hands.

“Which episode now, PB”  “Who the fuck is PB” 

Bucky pointed to the furball while scrolling through Netflix, avoiding any animal documentaries, not wanting to traumatize his new tiny friend. 

“You named him PB?”

“Yup”

“Based off of what” Tony cocked and eyebrow while Bucky snorted, feeding him another sunflower seed. 

“We’ll, I originally called him Parker’s balls”

Imagine after this Bucky has PB trained to wreck havoc and steal things he likes from just about anywhere. Peter gets absolute shit from Tony because 1 Bucky was enough chaos and now its Bucky plus this tiny demon. 

[hogans-heroes]

@avonne-writes and @slowsweetlove I just had to combine these because an idea wouldn’t leave me alone 🥰

Gale had tried to wrangle Bucky out of “borrowing” two bikes outside the London pub they had just left, but Bucky couldn’t be told anything when he was sober much less absolutely plastered, so of course Gale had lost the battle and was now pedaling as carefully as he could through the dark streets, barely keeping up with Bucky who was weaving all over and singing at the top of his lungs.

It was after midnight, and though the blackout rules made sure hardly a sliver of light was visible, the sky was clear and the moon gave enough light to see by. They weren’t far from their hotel—apparently Bucky was a good navigator even while soused—and Gale began to slow down in preparation for their next turn over the uneven, perpetually wet cobblestone.

Bucky did not slow down. He swooped into the turn with all the valor of a fighter pilot, but when the front wheel struck a hole, physics prevailed. The bike flew one way and Bucky the other, the latter smashing into a stack of crates and rolling onto the sidewalk.

“Bucky!” Gale cried, skidding to a stop. Jumping off the bike, he rushed over to extract Bucky from the pile of broken crates.

“M’fine,” muttered Bucky, shoving Gale’s fretting hands away and clambering to his feet. His hair was a mess and his flushed, scowling face was enough to make Gale snort, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Oh that was funny was it?” Bucky griped, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed him. He tried to take a step, but one foot had gotten wedged in a crate and he went down heavily in another clatter. His subsequent struggles to free himself made such a racket that a few stray cats fled for lives and Gale lost the battle with laughter, kneeling to save Bucky from his wooden assailant. By the time he was free both boys were wheezing and teary with laughter, and it wasn’t until Gale had pulled Bucky to his feet that he saw the telltale dark patches of blood on Bucky’s head and arms where his sleeves were rolled up.

“Ah shit, you’re hurt,” he blurted, still lightheaded from laughing as he grabbed Bucky’s elbow. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Bucky looked down at himself, grunted, and threw his arm over Gale heavily, leaning his entire weight. Gale rolled his eyes and adjusted to Bucky’s weight as he stacked the bicycles against the nearest wall, hoping their rightful owners would find them. With Bucky putting in minimum effort to walk, Gale wobbled them both the rest of the way to the hotel, frowning a little when he got a better glimpse of Bucky’s cuts and bruises under the lobby lights. They weren’t that bad, but still.

“Got a first aid kit in my bag,” he muttered. “You’re coming to my room first.”

Bucky hummed and offered no protest, so Gale took him up the elevator and to his own room, dropping him on the bed as he dug the little kit out of his belongings.

Bucky stayed unusually silent. Even when Gale returned and started examining the scrapes and small cuts littering his exposed skin, Bucky allowed the exam with half-lidded eyes. Only when Gale went to the bathroom and returned with a wet cloth did he break the silence.

“So, what’s the prognosis, Doc?” he drawled, still drunk but not completely out of it. “Am I gonna live?”

Gale hummed reproachfully, focusing on cleaning the worst cuts, softening his touch when Bucky winced. This made Bucky scowl and shove at Gale’s thigh, the closest thing within reach.

“Stop babying me,” he said.

“I’m not trying to baby you,” Gale shot back. “It’s called taking care of you. And if you’d not make it harder I’d appreciate it.”

Bucky fell silent again, this time with a little pout on his face that Gale refused to think was cute. He finished cleaning and applied the cream, fingers lingering just a bit on Bucky’s warm skin. When he was finished, Bucky swallowed, licking his lips.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he slurred quietly. “Instead of my own room. I just…really don’t want to be alone right now.”

He sounded ashamed, not meeting Gale’s eyes, and Gale sighed.

“You haven’t been alone in three years, Bucky,” he said as he stuffed the supplies back in the pack. “It’s impossible in the air corps. Even when you’re on leave you’ve always got a girl or something.” Gale wasn’t exactly bitter, but Bucky’s words were pushing some sort of buttons Gale didn’t know he had, it was two o’clock in the morning and he was tired and irritated.

“It’s not the same,” Bucky muttered, picking at the blanket. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

Gale huffed and started to pull off Bucky’s shoes when he made no move to do so. “And what’s it supposed to mean?”

Bucky shrugged. He stayed sitting on the bed quietly as Gale went to change his clothes and brush his teeth, and when Gale returned Bucky had shed his own uniform down to undershirt and shorts, already nestled under the covers. When Gale looked at him flatly, hands on his hips, Bucky turned his big innocent eyes up at him.

Gale sighed again, pretending to be put upon when really, deep down, he didn’t want to be alone either. Turning off the light, he lifted the covers and slid in beside John, letting John pull him close and tuck his chin over Gale’s head. It’s something they never talked about, but didn’t have to. Little meaningless things like pilfered bikes and sharing a bed were sometimes enough to protect their hearts from the war raging outside. How could John’s breath in his hair, so tender, so fragile, make him feel so safe?