#I know we already got little snippets of them giggling but like

[saltpepperbeard]

waiting for the day where ed and stede get to be as giggly as taika and rhys in the lie detector video

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[holylulusworld]

Bucky still got this

Summary: You took the perv home.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, protected sex, mentions of unprotected sex, fun, naughty reader, naughty Bucky, a match made in heaven

This is a snippet to Big girls don’t cry masterlist, but with Bucky and a different reader. It can be read as a stand-alone fic.

Catch up here: Bucky got this

“I got this... I got this,” Bucky grunts in your neck with every deep thrust. He’s so close to losing it that he moves at a madding pace. “I fucking got this.”

“Yes, you got this,” you eagerly agree, rocking your hips faster. You’re so painfully close to another orgasm, you don’t care that you just met the guy holding you pinned to your mattress. “You fucking got this.”

"I GOT THIS!"

“BUCKY GOT THIS!” You scream at the top of your lungs when you fall apart underneath the cocky guy you met in front of the bakery.

“Fuck, I got this,” he whines in your neck through his orgasm. “I got this...always.”

“Yeah, Romeo, you got this,” you snicker when he lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “You got it more than once.”

You both laugh when your neighbor hammers against the wall. Not for the first time, though.

“We all know you got this. Can you stop with the non-stop fucking? Other people want to watch TV, eat, or sleep!”

“Shut up! I must bear hearing you jerk off to bad porn every night. I got a perfect dick to ride and will make good use of it. All. Night. Long.”

“Bitch!” Your neighbor yells and slams his fist into the wall. “Keep it down!”

“Shut up, dick-less jerk,” you reply, making Bucky chuckle. “He will fuck me with his tongue and fingers now, and we will make as much noise as we can!”

“What?” Bucky slowly pulls out to roll on his back. He discards the condom and sighs. “My jaw still hurts, lady. I’m not a sex machine.”

You snort. “You promised me a good time, little perv,” you pat his chest. “Come on, don’t be a disappointment.”

“I made you cum more than once,” Bucky mutters under his breath. “Women these days are so greedy. I give them an orgasm, and they want more.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you roll on top of Bucky to kiss his chest. “Is my pretty perv already tired? I thought your hands and dick can work magic.”

“I did,” he grunts. “Lady, hey...” he hisses, feeling your hand wrap around his sensitive dick. “I can’t get it up right after I filled you up.”

“Hmm…do you know that one Beyoncé song?” You coo and peck his lips. “You know, if you like it, put a ring on it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen, but he can’t help the growl leave his lips. “You want to use me like some toy, huh? Do dirty things to me and ruin this cunt forever. Maybe let me fill your pussy up this time too.”

“Please, for the love of whatever,” your neighbor yells. “Stop fucking! I need silence!”

You sigh and get comfortable on top of Bucky. “So, how long does it usually take for you to get hard again?” You giggle when Bucky slaps your ass. “I mean it, Mr. Barnes. How long?”

“You’re insatiable.”

“You are a perv. We’re a match made in heaven.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but says nothing. He just had the best sex in ages. If he wants to get some more sugar, he’ll play along and let you say whatever you wish to him.

“I’m not a perv,” he finally replies. “I told you about my friend and his girl’s problems.”

“I only heard your friend is a douche hurting that beautiful woman,” you huff and bite his nipple.

Bucky yelps. “Hey, what was that for?”

“You supported that douche.” You grin before biting the other nipple. This time, Bucky slaps your ass. “Hmm…harder, perv.”

“I told you to keep it low! I’m calling the cops!” Your neighbor yells even louder.

“Go ahead! Tell the cops you’re listening to other people, fuck!” You yell back. “You are a fucking creep. Don’t think I didn’t see you stare at my ass!”

“He stared at your ass." Bucky’s features darken. “Let me find my pants, and I’m punching his face.”

“Punch his dick!” You snicker as you roll off Bucky to watch him look for his pants. “No, wait. You won’t find his dick. It’s tiny.”

“Where are my pants?” Bucky looks for his pants, ready to punch a stranger for you. “Fuck!”

“Bucky, get back to bed. He’s not worth it,” you laugh while Bucky struggles to find his clothes. “We started in the living room, remember?” You crook your finger and lure Bucky back in. “If you can’t get it up right now, how about you invite me to the bakery for something sweet?”

Bucky impatiently watches you look at the baked goods. He huffs and hopes you’ll choose something soon. His cock twitched more than once watching you bounce on your heels in front of him.

“Dammit, that’s not good,” he murmurs and looks down at his body. “Don’t fall in love, little Bucky. That’s a one-time thing. Do not get addicted to her. We won’t discuss this. I'm warning you, punk.”

“What do you think?” You twirl around to show Bucky a baguette, not cake. “Do you think we can skip the cake and go back to this?”

You seductively slide your tongue over the baguette, your eyes holding Bucky’s gaze. He chokes on his spit, watching you open your mouth to put the tip of the baguette into your mouth.

“Fuck, woman!” He grabs your wrist to drag you out of the bakery. “I guess your neighbor will hate us even more.”

Tags in reblog.

[swifty-fox]

Outlaws AU snippet

More rough drag of rubber soles over rocks as Benny drops down onto his launches, voice suddenly closer.

“Look,” He says, quiet enough to not carry over to the rest of the milling travelers, “I don’t know what want down with your last travel partner, you haven’t said anything and I won’t ask what you’re not offering, but you’ve got ‘broken heart’ stamped all over you and Jack’s gotten attached.” 

Gale screws his face up, pinching his lips together as if he could deny that’s exactly the beast that’s been crouching on his shoulders. 

“He and I are gonna stick around here with these guys for a week or two,” Benny continues,  “Stage crew their gigs and earn a little cash. There’s a spot for you if you want it.”

Dropping his arm back down to his side, Gale squints one eye up at him.

Benny scratches the back of his head, “Losing Jack is my worst nightmare. Nobody should be goin’ it alone so if you want to ride the High Line with us, we thought we’d offer.” 

He has to swallow a couple of times, clear his throat and sit up to reach for a water bottle, “That’s kind of you Benny.” 

“Everyone should see it once,” Benny shrugs, “It’s the prettiest freight ride in North America.”

-*~*-

They spend two weeks and three days in Portland, carrying drum sets and guitar cases and amps to every sticky one room dive bar in the city. The set up sound systems under the careful eye of Alex and teaches him how to pick pockets in turn. Rosie is the most frequent victim of the bassists newfound sticky fingers and it’s not an infrequent occurrence to hear him begging Alex for his lucky lighter back.

Cranks a good guy. East Coast as they come but Gale’s trying not to hold it against him, especially since he was graciously allowing them to crash in the already cramped van. 

The band isn’t bad. Not the next Nirvana but might go somewhere if they played their cards right. 

They work other odd jobs, as sometimes all Rosie and the others can offer in payment is a dry place to sleep and a meal, and Gale spends a couple weeks helping out at a record store run by an old dyke called Baby and her partner Alice. He picks up a taste for Bob Seger and while he lifts the walkman the cassette for Night Moves is an honest purchase. 

Johnny and Benny drop acid one night, disappearing into the van, and Gale sits with Rosie and Crank who trade a cigarette back and forth and giggle like children everything the wheels squeak.

“Do you think they realize we’re still all out here by the fire?” Rosie gasps into his hand. In the low light, face creased by mirth he makes out so similar an image to John that Gale finds his gaze lingering for just a moment. 

“Naw,” Gale drawls eventually, placing a toothpick between his lips and drawing his braid over a shoulder to brush fingers through it, “Let the lovebirds have their fun.”

[corrodedbisexual]

The original plushie

Steddie | G | ~4.1k | AO3 link

This fanart of Eddie sleeping with a bunch of stuffed toys by @baleful-blurbs infected my brain and refused to leave until this ridiculous fluffy thing got written 😭 Please make sure to reblog those wonderful sketches to support the artist who inspired the plushie silliness♥️

Featuring: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously beware of cavities, Light Angst, Plushies, Childhood Memories, POV Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Requited Love, Cuddling, Getting Together, Boys In Love

The mortifying ordeal of Eddie's crush discovering his secret plushie cuddle nest turns out to be not so mortifying after all. Steve even starts borrowing said plushies to take back home with him; some time later, Eddie finds out why.

Snippet under the cut

“Who’s this?” Steve asks, grinning as he pokes at the teddy’s ridiculous smiley face. 

“Oh. That’s… that’s Mr. Boogers.” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “Please don’t ask.”

Still grinning, Steve turns to him. “Well, now you know I gotta.” 

Eddie groans, rubbing a hand across his flustered face, and figures he might as well tell the story now that he’s dug his own grave. “He was, uh… kinda defective from the start, there were some stitches loose around his nose and there was stuffing coming out of it, like… well…”

Steve giggles. “Boogers. Gotcha.” 

“Yeah. Wayne grumbled about it and wanted to ask for a different one, but I was already in love with this one and clung to him and refused to trade. Cos like, you know how plushies of the same type are supposed to be identical but they’re really not ? And one of them has that perfect face and the others just seem off?” 

Eddie blushes, thinking now would be the moment he finally gets ridiculed for being twenty years old and having strong opinions on plushie faces of all things, but Steve just smiles and nods.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I once spilled some gouache on a Mickey Mouse I owned and instead of washing him, mom just bought me a new one of the same series.” Steve sighs. “It was obvious 'cos his eyes were a little closer together and his smile wasn’t crooked to the left. I knew he wasn’t the same Mickey.” 

Again, Eddie’s heart aches for little Steve, like pretty much any time the boy reveals stories from his childhood in a tone too lighthearted for the words spoken, in Eddie’s opinion. Rich people really don’t value anything, huh. (With Steve being the obvious exception.)

“Yeah, see? You get it!” Eddie exclaims, pointing at Steve and putting more excitement into the words than he feels. Mostly, he just feels relieved and pleasantly surprised at how unexpectedly he and Steve managed to bond over their shared fondness for their childhood toys. “So anyway, Wayne relented and we took this funny guy home, my uncle patched him up, but the nickname stuck. Mr. Boogers. Boogie for short.”

Steve laughs again, but there’s nothing malicious about it as he looks back to the teddy in his lap and flicks his ear.

“Nice to meet you, Boogie,” he says with an affectionate smile that makes Eddie want to burrow his face into the mattress and giggle like an idiot. 

And maybe scream a little, because what the fuck. It should be illegal for your crush to talk cute to your goddamn childhood plushies.  

Whole fic on AO3

[xythlia]

› satoru x reader snippet inspired by missed connections from old forums

› sfw, small angst, cigarette smoking

You'd met on the train one evening, the exact time eludes you now but you'd been headed home after a particularly grueling workday.

He'd sat beside you, as if it was the most easy action in the universe. You quickly learned everything was like that for him. At first you ignored the closeness as everyone does when a stranger sits beside them, eyes glued to your phone screen and only occasionally sneaking glances at them out of curiosity.

But try as you might to seem aloof he was without a doubt the most beautiful stranger you'd ever laid eyes on, alabaster hair and even with his eyes partially obscured by tinted sunglasses you could tell they were storybook blue: the color so rare it may as well only exist in pages. Still, you'd kept your gaping to a minimum so as to not make him second guess sitting beside you.

Quickly you noticed your phone dying, three percent left, and rummaged in your bag for the little charger you always took with you to and from work. Funnily enough it seemed he had the same problem, and within seconds you were locking eyes, chargers in hands, and it was like the whole world became quiet. No wind from the trains speed, no murmuring from the other passengers, just a blissful sudden silence as you lost yourself in those eyes.

"Sorry, but I think it's mine."

You'd blinked back at him emptily, like a fish on dry land for a second before collecting yourself. The plug was situated between your seats, and something about it made you giggle.

"How close is it to being dead?" You'd asked.

He quirked a brow but indulged you. "Ten percent."

"Got you beat, three percent." You fidgeted with the cord in your hands, "how about we split time? Ten each?"

He offered you an easy smile. "Sure, where are you headed?" He slipped his phone back in his jacket pocket as you plugged yours in.

"Nowhere special, just home."

"Hm, homes pretty special, don't you think?"

You smiled and it struck you that you'd already smiled more in the last five minutes with him than you had all day.

"Maybe you're right, but don't you have a home you take for granted a little bit?" You asked, meeting those aquamarine eyes again.

He huffed out a small laugh. "I guess I do, yeah."

It was so easy to be taken in by him, before you knew it the entire ride had passed by marked by easy, comfortable conversation and his occasional flirty quip that left you averting your eyes and feeling warm beneath your scarf.

"Sorry, I never shared the charger." You genuinely did feel bad for forgetting, too caught up in his strangely comfortable, magnetic aura.

"No big deal," he said stretching his arms behind his head. "But you can make it up to me, if you want?"

You eyed him with faux suspicion, meeting his playful gaze. "How so?"

He grinned so brightly, cultivating more of that strange warm feeling in your chest. "Meet me back here again? Same line, same time. Wait for the train on the 31st."

"I don't even know your name."

"Satoru," he said, "will you meet me again?"

You didn't even stop to consider it, the answer came without you even thinking about it.

"Yes."

-

The cherry of your cigarette glowed in the dark as you leaned against the railing of your apartment's balcony and you're drawn out of the memory as you take a deep drag. You never did meet him again, not on the train, not anywhere. Putting your trust in the grand plan of the universe you hadn't even exchanged mobile numbers, only the belief that the other would be there sustained you.

But sometimes a grand romantic plan isn't enough.

[nanamikentoseyebags]

You're once in any lifetime

will you be mine for eternity?

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

content: fluff, comfort, kisses and jokes, proposal, snippets of domestic life with the strongest

a/n: dear anon, thank you so much for this wonderful request i've been giggling the entire time while working on it! hope you like it 💛

6 hours. 6 hours of non-stop shopping, winding through narrow streets and searching for something interesting, beautiful and delicious. In that exact order. That was the usual weekend routine for Gojo Satoru, aka the World's Strongest, aka a little kid who apparently had one main dream in life: to buy up everything that caught his eye.

It was supposed to be a quiet and peaceful Sunday morning, that rare moment when one could behold a truly great wonder –sleeping Satoru, wrapped in a green fuzzy blanket, with his snow-white hair tousled, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, and a trickle of saliva from his open mouth that had already dripped onto the pillow. Not everyone was lucky enough to see him in his own habitat, appearing so defenseless and vulnerable, like a red-listed animal in need of protection and care. He never lost the opportunity to remind you that you were the lucky one to wake up to see such a marvelous sight in front of you as him.

But today the day didn't start so wonderfully, or to be more precise, not it the slightest so: being literally torn out of the realm of sleep by his icy hands, which shamelessly encircled your ankles and were eagerly pulling you off the bed with an unprecedented force for the defenseless and vulnerable, you cried out in surprise feeling the coldness that came over your body in a wave.

"Satoru!" you managed to grab the headboard at the last moment, and now you were trying to wrench your leg from his icy grasp, "what the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm waking you up," a pearly white smile shone on the face of the unscrupulous intruder of your sleep, "time to get up, sleepyhead, otherwise we'll sleep through all the fun," sky-blue eyes glimmered with lights of mischief and in a second his fingers were already tickling your feet.

You squealed, yanking your legs furiously, desperately hoping to get out of his tenacious grip and kick him so he'd never think of waking you up like that ever again. Well, the plan worked. To your own surprise the Strongest was defeated by a precise kick of your heel right in his ribs, and making the sound of a dying whale, he jumped up from the bed, holding his side.

"Did you take karate classes while I was away?" he exhaled, rubbing the injured spot.

"Yeah, got my black belt for just such occasions," you finally sat up on the bed, tucking your legs under the blanket and smoothing back your sleep-tangled hair, "and what fun could we possibly have slept through, huh?"

Satoru's painful grimace was immediately replaced by his usual bright smile, as if he hadn't been pretending to be a wounded warrior a second ago, "shopping!" echoed loudly throughout the apartment, making you cringe.

"Well what is the fun in that," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and stretching, "my dreams were quite fun until you disturbed them."

"Don't be so booooring," he sang, "besides, everything's already waiting for you" Satoru pulled out two hangers from behind his back, on which two prepared and ironed outfits for today were waiting in the wings. Looking at his beaming face, it was hard to tell him no, and he knew it perfectly well.

And for 6 hours straight, you looped through ornate streets decorated with colorful storefronts, filled with hundreds of people rushing about their business. You could barely feel your feet, somewhere in the back of your mind regretting that you had agreed to this adventure at all, knowing that Satoru certainly wouldn't get tired until he found the very sweets he remembered nothing about but had once tasted somewhere.

To be honest, you had other plans that required a more relaxed and peaceful ambience, but the sheer joy of Satoru put all thoughts on the back burner, replacing them with a pleasant tingle in your chest that made your heart beat faster every time he turned his ruffled, snow-white head to make sure you were holding on tightly to his big hand with your little fingers as he led you through the crowd of people.

Such small but so meaningful details never passed you by, and each time you were convinced that you could never have found a better man than this tall, annoying, but so beloved dummy.

"'Wanna get some cotton candy, sweets?" Gojo led you out onto a less crowded street, now walking beside you and swinging your intertwined hands.

"I would love some,"you smiled, nodding, inwardly pleased that the shopping seemed to be coming to an end.

"Gimme a sec," you walked over to a small wagon where he bought a huge cotton candy bar, so huge that it completely covered your face as you began to chew it, "fank you," you murmured, savouring the sweetness on your tongue.

"You're felcome," he mimicked you, nibbling off a couple bits and putting them in his mouth, making you giggle and nudge him lightly with your shoulder.

You wandered quietly along the embankment, listening to the sound of the gentle waves, feeling the breeze lightly ruffling your hair. You were silent, genuinely enjoying each other's company, talking only with your eyes and smiling involuntarily, as if these six years that you had been together had never happened and you both had just met. The sun was slowly slipping toward sunset, letting itself stare at you at least a little longer, gently stroking your smiling faces with its golden rays. You stopped at the small fence separating the promenade from the water and quietly watched the sky sink into the boundless embrace of the sea, merging into a one pastel-colored expanse, going far, far away, to a place where we had never been.

"Look," a sudden loud voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you flinch and turn in the direction Satoru was pointing his finger at.

"What's there?" you squinted, looking into the distance and trying to see anything, "I don't..." you turned back, seeing a sight that rendered you speechless.

Satoru was on one knee, his glasses no longer covering his magical eyes that were darting across your surprised face, but resting on his head, in his large palm lay a velvet box with a neat ring adorned with little stones shimmering in the light of the setting sun.

"Y/n..." something that sounded like a quiet croak escaped his lips, causing him to cough, his already flushed cheeks turning scarlet before he continued, "will you marry me?"

You covered your mouth with your hand, struggling to hold back the laughter that burst out of you.

"What are you doing?" Satoru tilted his head, "are you laughing at me?" he gasped, pretending to be hurt by your reaction, "when I'm kneeling here in front of you?"

"No, no, no, no," you shook your head, clearing your throat softly and pulling a small velvet box out of your purse, "I thought you wouldn't ask, so... uh...," you laughed harder, seeing his already large eyes widen.

"So, will you marry me, Satoru gojo," you uttered, trying to calm down and holding out a delicate golden band.

"I think so," he grinned, graciously holding out his hand so you could slip the ring onto his finger, "and what will your decision be, dear Y/n"

"More likely yes than no" you giggled, feeling the pleasant coldness of the gold metal on your finger at the same second.

Satoru reached up, pulling you closer to him and with the loudest mwah possible, smacking your lips, "looks like you're stuck with me for eternity, sweets," he smirked contentedly, taking your face in his hands and pinching your cheeks.

"Looks like it, but I'm ashamed to admit it, I don't seem to mind," you giggled, poking his nose and engaging him in the most tender kiss, promising for eternity with every movement of your lips.

thank you so much for reading 💛 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ✨

tags: @rossithepixie @a-nuisance-called-sam @the-mom-friend-dot-com @vagabond-umlaut

[look-at-the-soul]

The Photoshoot - Part 50

Cillian Murphy series 2014, 2015

I’m sorry for not posting this sooner! Sometimes time flies and when I realize it’s boom 🤯 a month went by… but my love for these two will always make me enjoy the most for each part. And I can’t believe this story reached part 50!!?!! Like how ?

Ps. Happy birthday Cill 💙✨

Word count: 3,628

Cillian waved at the crew team as they left him in front of his hotel. As it got chiller, he shivered and walked into the small convinience store to get a bottle of water, strolling through the aisles, he found a stuffed duck and immediately thought of Scout, he loved ducks. As he walked past some people, he was aware of the glances and deep down he knew the reason.

The infamous Thomas Shelby haircut.

“Hello you.” He greeted his wife after answering his phone.

“Hey baby, how have you been?” Yael’s voice spread softly to his heart.

“Missing you like crazy.” He admitted realizing he probably sounded corny.

“Well I miss you more.”

Cillian placed the phone between his shoulder and cheek to grab something.

“Give me a sec.” He managed to make it to the register balancing the items in his arms and politely asked the cashier if she could cut the tag from the stuffed animal.

“What was that?” Yael chuckled softly.

“I’m buying some stuff.” He put his wallet in his back pocket and made it out of the store. “How’s it going? How are you ladies doing?”

“I took Mum to a yoga class and then we had breakfast at this cute little café and more ladies stuff.” She explained and he could easily imagine her playing with one of her curls with a beautiful smile on her lips.

“Oh tell me more about that girls stuff.” He stopped at the red light, checking the signal to cross the street.

“We’re getting manis and pedis later.” He loved hearing her laugh. “And oh! Yesterday when we were walking, we found an antiques shop…”

“Oh shit.” He interrupted in a playful tone.”

“Stop it.” She giggled.

“And what gorgeous rare-to-find item did you discover this time?” Cillian asked not being able to stop the smile from growing in his lips. He knew Yael too damn well.

“A painting.” Yael replied shyly. “And I immediately fell in love with it.” She rushed to explain to cover for her excitement.

Cillian laughed, seeing already the scene in his mind. His wife had a weakness for antiques, but he had to admit she had a good taste.

“It’s beautiful and the frame it’s the original, took me a while to properly clean it.” She continued.

“I bet you didn’t stop until getting it hanged.”

“Actually I didn’t, still trying to decide what’s the right place.” He heard Scout barking in the background. “How’s the scouting going?”

“Grand, grand… later we’re going somewhere else, we need some scenes by the river and the caravans look fucking phenomenal.” He explained.

The project was around the corner and he tensed his shoulders involuntarily at the thought of embarking once more into the character’s chaos.

“I can’t wait to see everything up.”

“Alright baby, I’ll let you go to your pedi time, call you later.” Cillian told her that he love her and walked into the store trying to keep a low profile.

He needed to pick up the gift he ordered for Yael.

***

“Mrs. Lieberman, Mrs. Murphy welcome.” The social worker asked them to take their seats. “Let’s see,” she seemed to focus on a sheet before her, the desk had a pile of folders and papers organized with colorful post it. “I understand you traveled for this appointment.”

“Yes, my home is in London.” Isla crossed her leg. “But right now I’m staying with my daughter.”

“I see.”

It was hard to tell anything from Mrs. O’Brien’s expression. Her lips were in a tight line and Yael always felt uneasy, not knowing if she was sharing too much or if she shouldn’t have said that.

“Would you like to tell me about your family and the dynamic you share?”

As Isla went on to talk about her children, talked about how they traveled frequently to be together as much as they could and then she shared a small snippet of a birthday party she held for one of her grandchildren.

“So how would an adoption blend into this? How do you feel about that?”

Although the question was meant to set anyone back and make you question yourself, Isla managed to pull a great comeback.

“Do you mean if I’d love that children less because it’s not biologically my grandchild?” She asked openly and when she saw the social worker nod, she went on. “My husband picked me up from the ground when I was at my lowest point emotionally and economically, for months I saw my daughter struggling with physical therapy to recover from the accident and surgery after surgery and not only that, he took my children as his own and loved us unconditionally, the same goes for our grandchildren. He never made one single comment about not being linked by blood or sharing DNA with any of them, I wouldn’t know how to love Yael and Cillian’s child any other way.”

Yael had to fight back the tears that formed in her eyes. There it was, the woman who always inspired her, opening her heart to say just what she thought.

“To me,” Isla continued. “It’s not about sharing the same genetics… it’s something deeper than that, it’s about choosing to love, care and protect for another human being without waiting anything in return and I know this takes a lot of time and steps but I can assure you my daughter and her husband will be the most loving parents if you give them the chance.”

Quietly, Yael excused herself and walked out of the office, she wasn’t needed there anyways. Emotions were suffocating her and it was impossible to prevent it. Perhaps it was the fact that Cillian was away, or her Mother’s words that touched her heart. But either way, she needed a break, to keep her guard down and trust the process and its own time. But who was she trying to fool? It was damn hard and sometimes it felt like it would never happen.

“This has been extremely hard for my daughter, the process is wearing her out, but I understand this is not like going to the grocery shop and picking a kid. I know it takes time and you’ve to follow protocols and forms, but trust me, she’s the most loving person I know and motherhood has always been her biggest dream.”

“We cannot base the approval on that Mrs. Lieberman, we need to check background, records, psychology tests… we’re talking about a vulnerable child’s life.”

Isla nodded, not wanting to upset the social worker.

“May I ask how long does it takes to finalize?”

The social worker shuddered. “It can be months… even years.”

Isla’s heart shattered by the statement. She wanted to keep a positive spirit, but the time frame wasn’t very helpful.

“That long? And there’s nothing you can do?”

The social worker shook her head. “We’ve to complete each step.”

“But there are so many kids in orphanages.” She had seen it first hand, since the following day she arrived, they went to give away the books Yael bought for the children, spent hours there reading to them. It was bittersweet, but she was grateful for sharing a moment like that with her daughter.

Yael wasn’t doing it just to look good for the adoption process, she was doing it because she learned it filled her heart and soul, because she wanted to make those kids happy.

“I just wish you get everything you need to approve their adoption, they’re eager to welcome their child into their happy little family.”

“We want nothing but the very same.”

Ending the meeting, Isla went to search for her daughter. Her heart beating faster, she just wanted the best for Yael and Cillian.

“There you’re sweetie, shall we go somewhere?”

“Yes, I need some fresh air.” Yael helped her put in her coat and the pair went to the parking lot.

“I probably shouldn’t have stormed off like that.” Yael regretted her reaction.

“Don’t worry about that, the interview was meant to be just for me, and this is draining.”

“But they seem to be monitoring everything, every little thing you do and say.” Yael waited for her green light to take a turn.

“I know you and you’re probably tired of hearing this, but try to take this one step at the time, be patient. I’m sure the reward is around the corner.”

Yael knew her mother’s words were filled with the best intentions, but it was just like telling someone grieving to not feel sad about losing someone they love.

“Let’s focus on something else sweetheart, let’s go to clear our heads for a bit.” Isla proposed, worried about her daughter, she wanted to do something to cheer her up.

“Yeah, we’ve the appointment at the salon already.”

“Yes, that’s a wonderful idea.”

Yael took a deep breath. “I don’t want to tell Cill about this just yet. He needs to focus on his next project and this isn’t exactly a major step or something that tells me we’re getting good news soon.”

Yael took a U turn at the next available exit, following the instructions in the GPS.

As she was driving, her phone started ringing and Cillian’s face appeared on the screen.

“Hey handsome, I was thinking of you.”

“I got a notification marked as urgent that you left somewhere, are you alright?”

“Yeah, we just finished the interview with the social worker and I’m taking Mum for a walk. It’s the app I downloaded for you, it keeps you updated of where am I and stuff like that.”

“Oh so I can spy on you?” He joked and made Isla chuckled. “How did it go?”

Yael took a deep breath before answering her husband. “I hope well.”

“I’m sure of it.” He offered through the phone. “Why don’t you go to the movies to shake it off?” Cillian proposed.

Yael gasped at the suggestion. “That’s a great idea!”

“Yeah.” He added thinking how it had been a while since they went out. Lately he had been focusing on the script and nothing else, he felt bad because as he was getting more and more engrossed on the role, he started to grow apart from his wife. And although she never pointed it out, now that her mother was around, he was noticing the difference.

She was so supportive of each of his projects and with the adoption process, he wanted to make sure they were still connected.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking… why don’t start planning a holiday during Christmas? Or by the time I finish filming? Let’s go wherever you want, hmm?”

“Oh that’s really nice!” Isla agreed, noticing the smile on her daughter’s lips.

“I’d love that.” A few days away just the two of them? Yael was already looking forward to it.

“Alright, it’s settled then, I’m heading to the set now, let me know when you get home.”

“Will do.” Telling Cillian, she loved him, Yael hang up.

“He’s amazing.” Isla expressed, getting out of the car, as they arrived at the salon.

“I can’t wait for that holiday already, I feel like he’s been rehearsing since forever.”

She wanted nothing but have a good rest and not worry about anything else.

“Hello, welcome.” A woman greeted them and asked if they had an appointment.

Yael left her purse by a chair and started checking the nail colors options.

“You look so much alike!” The woman pointed at Isla and Yael in shock. “It’s like you did copy-paste.”

Yael blushed, she was so used to get those kind of reactions, specially now that her mother was sporting her natural curls freely.

Another woman at the salon pointed out the same in awe.

“Thanks. We hear that a lot.” Yael chuckled.

“So who’s Isla?” A kind smile appeared on her face just as a woman that was getting a haircut turned from her chair.

“That’d be me.” Yael’s mother replied waving her hand.

“Isla?” The woman turned around to face. “Isla is that you?”

“Barbara?” Her mother asked cautiously.

Yael looked the exchange with confusion.

“Oh my God I can’t believe it’s you!” Isla covered her mouth with her hands.

As the two women moved to closer to hug, Yael stared at the scene trying to understand the story behind their familiarity.

“It’s been what? A lifetime.” Isla continued.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you, but after all this time, you still look the same.”

Then, Isla looked around, noticing her daughter’s stare. “Goodness! Let me introduce you to my daughter, Yael, she’s my youngest.”

“Nice to meet you.” Yael greeted the woman.

“She’s Barbara, I used to babysit her and her sister. I was in my early 20’s.” Isla explained her daughter. “And one day, I never saw you again.”

“She looks just like you.” Barbara admitted. “You knew they took us to a government facility?”

Isla gasped in shock. “So it was true.”

“After a few months, someone adopted my sister and I never saw her again, she was only five years old back then, I waited but when I turned eighteen they kicked me out.” Barbara explained.

“You never saw her again?” Isla asked, her heart breaking in the process.

“No, I’ve been searching for her for so many years with no luck.”

“Uhm excuse me? We’ve a full agenda, could we continue while you catch up?” The hairstylist pointed at Bárbara’s wet hair.

“Sorry! Yes.” She stretched her arm towards Isla. “Mind if we go somewhere after we’re done here?”

Isla nodded, feeling like a knot installed in her stomach.

***

Cillian stood in the middle of Arley Hall mesmerized. The place was magnetic, beautiful and oozed this old vibe mansion in every corner.

“What do you think?” Steven asked, standing next to him.

“It’s amazing.” He turned around and moved away just as some crew walked past them with some furniture.

“They’re closing it to the public while we’re filming.” Steven stood there watching everything with his hands on his hips and a smile on his face.

“Are we filming everywhere?” Cillian crossed his arms imagining the scenes in this place, it was a luxury property and according to the script this was Tommy’s ultimate dream house, where he officially kick off and gets what he always wanted.

His ambitions finally materializing, his dreams becoming a reality.

Oh, but the price Tommy would have to pay…

Cillian wandered around. He learned it had been once the home of a wealthy family, it was spacious, the view to the garden was fantastic, part of the house included a cellar, and the second floor was as incredible as the first one, but for the upstairs part, they had constructed a replica on one of the sets.

As he kept walking, he arrived at the kitchen area one floor below, he had never seen something like that, it was rustic and had a huge pantry and an area where they kept the meat stored.

It was a dream, he was practically drooling over it. It was so easy to get lost and imagine how everything would look as soon as the crew got it ready for filming. Walking around, he ended in the dining room, a couple of important scenes would be filmed there.

“I think this needs something else, but I don’t know what.” Steven joined him.

It oozed luxury, it was elegant. The chandeliers sparkled, curtains with fabric that looked so expensive. Cillian imagined the kind of life the previous owners carried before it was purchased as wedding venue and a place open to the public to visit.

“A painting.” Cillian suggested casually. “A huge arse portrait.”

Steven turned around to stare at Cillian, eyes wide open as the realization hit him hard and fast.

“Yes, right there in the back of the main seat.”

Cillian nodded, hands hiding inside his pockets. It was involuntary, but it was part of the essence of his character. He couldn’t help it.

“Can your wife be in charge?”

He nodded quietly.

“Give her a call.”

But he didn’t need to do so. Because his phone started ringing in that very moment and it was Yael.

“Hello beautiful, I was just about to call you.”

“You’ve to sit down, you’re not going to believe this.” Yael started off. She sounded like there was something important she wanted to tell him.

“What’s the matter? Is everything fine?” Quietly he decided to take a walk outside, away from someone listening.

”Mum and I were at the salon, right? So when they call her name, this woman immediately recognized Mum and went to greet her, they chat for a bit. Long story short my Mum used to babysit Barbara -the woman-, when they were younger but one day she and her sister were taken away and she never saw them again.”

Cillian listened carefully, waiting for his wife to tell him the full story.

“Barbara is the Director of the child services office.” She explained him, his heart started beating faster. “She took us to her office, took a look at our records, studies, everything,” Cillian heard her taking a deep breath, “babe, it turns out we were in some kind of blacklist.”

Silence filled the call, Cillian inhaled deeply. “Why?”

“This is horrible but… have you noticed how celebrities go to places like Nigeria or Africa to adopt?”

Cillian kicked a rock he found on his way, processing that piece of information. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know about the adoption process over there, but apparently it’s easier, no questions asked and overnight, they’ve a child, we’ll thanks to that, the kind of surroundings to these celebrities lifestyle they practically catalogued us in that list so we’d never ever get the adoption finalized.” Yael’s words came out rushed.

Cillian felt a vein in his temple pulsing. “Are you telling me because I’m an actor, they practically rejected our application without telling us?”

The realization of his own words made his heart sink to the ground. Not getting the chance to move forward with the adoption process and his wife’s sadness was his fault?

Misery took over him.

“Hold on, I know what you’re thinking.” Yael interrupted his thoughts. “Not everything is as bad as it seems, this woman, Barbara she told us, basically… she’s going to help us! I asked her what do we’ve to do in order to be out of the blacklist and she gave me hope Cill, she explained us a lot of things no one told us about and I understand the reasons why they just can’t give kids to whoever starts a process, but she said literally I know your Mother, and she was always kind to me and my sister, she gave us food when we had nothing, she shared her clothes with us too, I can imagine the kind of daughter she raised.”

Emotion took over her voice, it was impossible not to feel everything right in the surface.

“How are we so sure that they won’t make it harder because of what I do for a living?” He was still processing the impact his career had, never thought it would be a negative reason in the adoption.

“She assured us she’d take our case personally.”

Despite Yael’s words, Cillian still felt doubtful now. Feeling guilty that he was the reason of not being able to adopt a child.

“So what are we supposed to do now? We’ve been begging them for the interviews.”

Yael had been calling almost daily to get the appointments, and now he was able to understand why the process had been so hard, they were trying to push them back.

“Barbara told me she’d give me a call, but I guess we’ve to wait to hear the next steps.”

When her mother told her what the social worked mentioned during her interview, Yael felt deflated. Hearing the process could take years to finalize shattered her heart. But now there was a new chance to move things forward with Barbara behind their case.

Cillian stared into the huge garden, not paying attention to anything in particular.

“Are you still there?” His wife’s voice made him snap back into reality.

“Yeah… just thinking.”

He really wanted to feel her new enthusiasm and positivism, but he also couldn’t help but feel worried, what if they have to face new challenges in the process, all this bureaucracy because of his job? He wasn’t sure to be able to deal with the guilt of knowing that because of him the process could be harder or take longer than usual because he needs to prove that he isn’t like most of Hollywood stars.

This whole thing was a roller coaster, sometimes it was Yael the one feeling down, now it was his turn while she had her hopes up. He hated to admit it but it was draining.

“If you hear anything back, call me yeah? Or text me.” He added after a few seconds, not wanting to drag her down because of his attitude.

“Absolutely.”

“Listen, Steven wants to do some photos, so I think I’m going to change my flight… your Mum is already flying back, why don’t you come with her?”

Yael took her time, to consider her options. “How many days?”

“Just a couple, to get a few photos done.”

“Okay, let me organize my planner and see how can I reorganize the things I’ve scheduled and also I need someone to look after Scout.”

“I’ll call my brother, don’t worry.” He went on walking again, sitting on the edge of the fountain. “I really want to see you.”

She wanted the same, needed to feel him close.

Tag list: @lyarr24 @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan

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[mechanicalpiper]

May I request Villain’s henchman and Hero’s scientist share snide comments with a touch of flirting?

I AM #1 SCIENTIST ENJOYER

Adore this prompt!! This one's pretty short, but I really like it~ Thank you!

Also, cw: suggestive :3

Snippet #10

Scientist huffed into their gag as they were set down from an over-the-shoulder carry onto what felt like a wooden chair.

They briefly struggled in their bindings out of petty defiance when put down, but stopped when they felt their unknown captor grab the knot of their blindfold and untie it. As the cloth was removed from their eyes, they blinked rapidly in the sudden light.

"Pfff~ Thought this catch couldn't get any easier, but you're the lightest carry I've had yet!"

As Scientist's eyes adjusted to the bright room, they finally got a good look at their captor.

Henchman, looking down at them with a taunting expression and a hand on their hip.

Scientist grumbled into their gag, meeting the cocky expression with a glare.

"And good timing, too..." Henchman mused with a somewhat dramatic turn to pace behind the bound Scientist, who let their head drop back down with a small 'Hmph.'

"It's been ages since I've been ordered to snag anyone besides Hero." Henchman grabbed the knot of the cloth used for Scientist's gag and began to untie it. Scientist slightly grumbled, looking off to the side with the same glare. "I don't know what it is with Villain and that dumbass, but thank god we can finally grab someone actually useful to us."

The gag fell off. Scientist was quick to spit out the gag stuffing as Henchman walked back to the front, eyes locked on the captive.

"Hmpf. Flattering." Scientist's voice was dripping with sarcasm... but, on some level, it really was flattering. They turned their attention back to Henchman, still defiant. "Let me guess- you need me to build some kind of large-scale weapon."

"Brilliant deduction, Einstein."

"Yeah, yeah. But you couldn't just find someone actually willing? There's tons of people as smart as me out there. You all can't even plan properly."

"Oh, what is it with you Agency members and practicality?" Henchman grumbled. "Villainy isn't about practicality, sweetheart. It's about impact."

Henchman did another rather dramatic turn to pace back and forth as they rambled, taking a small knife out of their pocket to flip it around in their hand. "If we were practical, this ornate lair would be hidden and efficient. We'd wear combat armor instead of intricate outfits. We'd strike quickly and cleanly at night."

Henchman stopped in front of Scientist, turning their gaze back to the frustrated captive. "But we don't. We're loud and flashy, because it makes an impact."

They leaned in further, looming over Scientist. The captive kept their cool visually, their expression staying firmly as an angry glare, but... well, their heart was racing as the Villain's servant towered over them.

"So tell me, Scientist. What makes a bigger impact? Hiring some generic, bland mad scientist to do the dirty work for us..."

Henchman leaned further in for emphasis, the two's faces nearly touching. Scientist's breath got shaky.

"Or making the Agency's finest little researcher create the very machine we'll use to destroy it?"

Henchman leaned back, looking down expectantly at Scientist trying their hardest to keep themselves composed.

They couldn't find the words to respond. They simply stared at Henchman, expression furious. Frustrated they couldn't do anything to fight back.

Unsure why it was so, so flustering.

"Aw~" Henchman giggled. "See, you've got the adorable anger down already! You're picking up the damsel in distress role quite nicely."

Scientist's glare directed to the side as they let out a growl.

"...psycho..."

Henchman let out a satisfied, infuriating giggle. They took another step forward, slipping their hand under Scientist's chin to tilt their head back up.

"We'll be getting you to work tomorrow. And don't even think of trying anything- on top of some loose cuffs, I'll be supervising you. Got it?"

Scientist's eyes narrowed defiantly.

Henchman gripped slightly harder, although not painfully, and leaned in a little further. Their voice was stern.

"Got it?"

Scientist let out another shaky breath... then a defeated sigh and a small nod.

"There we go~"

Henchman stood back up, moving the hand from Scientist's chin to instead gently pat their head, met with a grumble.

"Theeere's a good lil nerd. The Agency's certainly not utilizing you well... we'll put that pretty head of yours to good use, don't worry~"

Scientist was furious.

Furious they couldn't help but love this.

[rookfeatherrambles]

I guess this is what I do now. Another fic snippet upon you (Jonelias this time)

It's called The Red string of fate (can go fuck itself)

Tldr: this is a fic where an organization and an algorithm basically determines who you are partnered to based on genetics and traits. Jon is ace and identifies as a man, and has been fighting the system, requesting an exception to the pairing program, though it's the law for every afab person to have at least one child, he wants zero. Zip. Nada. And on the day he goes in for the 5th time to ask for an exception, he learns he's been matched and is no longer eligible. His new 'destiny' is someone named Elias Bouchard. (Elias isn't evil and this isn't an abusive dynamic in this fic, pointing that out in advance) ANYWAY HAVE JON AND HIS FRIENDS COMMISERATING WITH HIM OVER COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF ALCOHOL.

"This is such bullshit!" Melanie King slammed her hand down onto the bar table suddenly, and Jon jumped. She immediately pulled it back. "I'm sorry, Jon, but it is!"

"I agree with Mel," Jon's other friend, Tim Stoker said severely. He swirled his drink in his glass before frowning and looking at Jon. "You've been in there four times already, and it's only now they've decided to pair you off? Something's fishy." Beside him, a pretty woman with a mess of curly dark hair was staring intently at her phone. After a moment, she huffed.

"I can't find anything on 'Elias Bouchard' on Yowler or Unlinked. The man is a ghost."

Sasha James, Jon's third friend and partner of Tim's, sighed and set her phone down on the table before picking up her glass. "That's not a good sign."

Jon groaned.

Tim tapped at his glass thoughtfully. "Maybe he's just not big on social media?"

Jon groaned louder, dropping his head into his arms. "Or he's a serial killer." Melanie offered, unhelpfully.

"Or that," Tim conceded. "You okay, Jon? You're melting off the table."

Jon lifted his head a little, eyes dull. "It doesn't matter what he's like," he said hopelessly. "I don't want this. I never have."

Melanie’s expression softened, and she reached over and patted Jon's back. "We know, man. We know. We're here for you."

Sasha slid over an unopened bottle of stout. "Here. Or you can get something stronger, it's on me and Tim."

Melanie sat up, picked up her drink and cocked her head. "I never got how you two just happened to match together. Tim, you're gorgeous but you’re a different, opposing alignment then Sasha. How’d this happen? Spill.”

Sasha and Tim exchanged mischievous looks. “We rigged the system,” Tim said abruptly.

“You what? How?” Melanie leaned forwards, eyeing the pair of them with disbelief and incredulity. “There’s no way. Tell me everything.”

Sasha grinned widely. “Well, me and Tim were friends for ages… and we decided a long time ago that we didn’t want to be split up if the system matched us to other partners. So…” She paused for dramatic effect. “I hacked the system!”

Tim devolved into snorting laughter, but Melanie swore. “Get the fuck out. There’s no way! It's not possible.”

“Yeah,” Tim said eventually, coming up from his giggles. “We paid someone on the inside to fudge the paperwork. God, Mel, you’re hilarious. Never change.”

Despite Jon’s atrocious start to the day, his evening was relatively pleasant, spent around friends who cared for him and wanted to see him happy.

“They’re going to send me the whole package,” he moaned, after his n’th drink. “It's going to have his photo, and all of his information. Do they realize how incredibly unnatural this all is? My apparent life partner, matched to me by an algorithm?”

“And genetics,” Tim added, swirling the beer in his glass. “Don’t forget that the whole reason for it all is to produce healthy offspring. In an age of birth decline,” He changed his voice, mimicking one of the LION’s top representatives. Everyone at the table had seen the video and the air was filled with groans, but Tim kept going. “We must all do our part to ensure our unique traits survive the test of time. That’s why -”

“Don’t say it,” Jon moaned, head thunking down on the table. He was well and truly inebriated, but it wasn’t enough. “Don’t even say it.” He pushed his half full beer away from him, no longer interested in it.

“It is fucked up,” Melanie agree, helping herself to Jon’s abandoned drink. “If you think about it, really think about it, this is a dystopia. Like, seriously. We’re living in a society.”

Sasha made a face, then leaned her head over onto Tim’s shoulder. “Mel, I love you, but I’m way too drunk to talk politics right now.”

The rest of the evening was a smeary, drunken blur for Jon. He woke up the next day in his bed with a terrible hangover and a feeling of dread settled deep in his gut.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

(regarding the snippet)

Quaritch when stroking Spider's hair after he had a panic attack when he touched it doesn't help: 😦

My blood pressure went up reading this (I can't wait even more now, thanks)

I take that as a complement 😈

Here, to calm your blood pressure take a fluffy snippet of Spider getting his braids done by Neytiri Mo'at and Kiri (before y'a know Quaritch destroys them)

******************************************************************

“Spider,” Neytiri called, “would you like to have your hair braided.”

    Some of his typical anxiousness creeped its way in at the prospect but it was nowhere near as intense as it had been that morning. “Sure.”

    “Sit,” Neytiri waved to the spot by her feet. Spider sat, his back supported by the couch. On either side of Neytiri were Mo’at and Kiri, ready to help. “What would you like?”

   Spider shrugged, “surprise me.”

   “Can I go get my beads mama,” Tuk asked excitedly.

   “I already have some,” Mo’at said, taking a pouch from her pocket. “I’ve had these made for  some time now.” Spider felt his heart swell, “you are quite the stubborn boy,” She leaned down to meet his eye with a wry smile. Spider couldn’t help but smile back.

     Neytiri’s fingers racked through his hair. He couldn’t help his nerves from crying out, making him tense. But as Neytiri continued he focused on the sensation, focused on how nice it felt as Mo’at and Kiri joined in. Seze trotted towards him, jumping onto his lap and stretching up to touch her nose to his. He giggled at the cat, petting her as she settled,curling into a ball, purring contentedly. 

    “One of us, one of us…” Lo’ak chanted as he watched the style take shape.

     Spider huffed a laugh, “what, am I getting the Sully brother special.”

     Kiri scoffed, “we’d never let you look that bad.”

     “Hey,” the brothers, Neytiri and Mo’at all exclaimed. The others all laughed.

      Spider settled into the moment all worries fading away to nothing. He felt light- more free and content then he could ever remember. Surrounded by a lively happy family. Openly talking and laughing. He couldn’t believe he had really gotten to this point. Never had he allowed himself to even hope for something like this and yet it had happened as easily as puzzle pieces falling into place.

     “We are done,” Mo’at announced. Spider patted his head to feel the style before seeing it. The top half of his hair was pulled back by a series of braids, the other half left down with little braids here and there, the ends decorated with the multi-colored beads Mo’at had carved for him. He got up to go look at himself in the hallway mirror again. Spider took in his image stunned. When he was little he had always imagined himself as a mighty warrior like the ones from the stories Norm would tell him. He looked like that mighty warrior now, strong, confident, capable.      

One of us, one of us. Lo’ak had been joking but his words rang true. Spider looked like he belonged. A large grin stretched across his face, a relieved little laugh escaping his lips. He belonged. He really finally belonged.

******************************************************************

Anyway I really hope you all enjoy the second prologue knowing what comes after it 😘

[urban-trek-thru-middle-earth]

Fic Snippet - Oct 14

The door to the house flew in, violently, as if someone was trying to rip it away, and Solwen stormed out, looking as if she would murder the first person who got in her way.

"Uh oh," Lord Mordulf said. "This doesn't look good."

It absolutely didn't, no...

Solwen stomped down the steps, heading for Erland's group. "He already knew," she shouted at them as she drew near.

"Who already knew what?" Ellie asked.

"My devious arsehole of a father," Solly spat. Her fists were clenched, and her face was flushed with rage—she was ready to strangle someone with her bare hands. "He already knew I was dating the King, and the Brendal thing was a lie. He's spent the last two weeks with his folding chair and popcorn out, watching us tie ourselves in knots trying to keep the truth to ourselves."

"Is that bad?" Lord Mordulf asked.

"It's not the knowing bit that's bad," Solwen snapped. "It's the stupid fucking tricks he's been pulling on us. Like when Eomer came to our house last Saturday, and my dad made me bring them some tea. He knew we were dating, and trying to hide the fact we were dating, and he set us up." Screaming in rage, she kicked one of the folding chairs—it sailed ten feet to land on top of the fence around the vegetable patch.

The door to the house swung in again, the King stepped out to hurry across the lawn.

"Well?" Solwen demanded as Eomer drew near. "What else did the lying cunt say?"

"Not much more. He just added some extra details to the parts he'd already shared."

"You can have him killed, right? Ask Fastmer to shoot him, or waterboard him to death in the lake?"

"Don't tempt me."

"Okay, sorry, can you explain from the beginning, please?" Ellie asked. "I got the basics, but I'm a little confused. What happened after we left?"

Solwen sucked in a slow breath, trying to force herself to stay calm. "After you left, my dad had some questions about our relationship," she said, maybe not calm, but definitely less angry now. "Which we answered as well as we could."

"That doesn't sound too devious," Elfhelm said.

"Yes, but then he admitted, he had a secret as well. That he'd actually figured out we were dating. And had decided, in his infinitely glorious wisdom, not to confront me about it."

It wasn't hard to understand why, after the fallout their dad's last confrontation had caused. "Because he thought it would be better to wait for you to tell him in your own time," Erland guessed.

"Or for us to fuck up so badly in front of him, we would have to come clean."

"And he's known for how long?"

"Two weeks," the King revealed. "Since the Midsummer party."

"So, everything we've all said to him since that night, every conversation we've had where the subject of you and Brendal has come up, dad knew that was a lie?" Erland asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, dear," Lord Mordulf said.

'Oh, dear' didn't quite cut it; and now Erland wanted to strangle someone as well. "How in the Great Hunter's name did he figure it out?"

"I don't know," the King said. "We haven't gotten to that part yet."

Another figure emerged from the house—the two-faced arsehole in the flesh, no doubt coming to gloat about his 'victory'.

"You," Erland shouted as their dad sauntered across the lawn, pointing an accusatory finger, "are a devious, lying, two-faced fuck."

Their dad snorted. "I'm in bloody good company if I am."

"I never set you up the way you set me up with that tea," Solly snapped, shoving their dad so hard he grunted and fell a step back. "You deliberately put me in a situation you knew would catch me off guard."

"If you want to punch him properly, I'll hold him down," the King offered.

"Okay, but don't you want to punch him as well?"

Their dad raised protective hands. "In my defence, I didn't do that just for shits and giggles. It was my way of verifying my suspicions. I was ninety-nine percent sure I was right. When Solly brought that tray in last week, the way the two of you reacted made me absolutely sure."

"Were we that obvious?" the King asked.

"You were, sir, yes. The moment Solly stepped through the door, the truth was written all over your face."

"Still a dick move," Erland said. "You could have found another way to confirm without being cruel."

His dad grinned. "But where would have been the fun in that?"

[subtlehaz]

if this has been said already I’m so sorry but you know what I would LOVE? absolutely froth at the mouth for? is if we get a little montage teaser of Buck and Eddie respectively stumbling into their homes, and all you see are snippets of their faces hands mouths belts fingers feet - nothing too wide shot though. The viewer assumes it’s them with partners (perhaps implied Nat/ Marisol as we were left with last season) but, again, all we see are the close ups, nothing too revealing except for Buck/ Eddie’s faces every now and then but no clear shot of their partners. You see them fumbling with clothes and giggling and maybe a meeting of lips but! NO CLOSE UP! It’s implied the viewer must already know who it is. Even better if this montage is at the start of the episode.

The episode continues on and maybe we see Buck and Eddie giggly/ texting. Running off to answer the phone (kind of like how Buck was when he got a therapist and everyone thought it was a gf). We see messages sent but not the contact name, or maybe a contact name that’s just a pet name or a nickname. Maybe the 118 even starts teasing them about their relationships etc. Then at the very end of the episode there’s a call back to the montage, or maybe not, but either way there’s finally a wide shot that reveals MUAH big kiss between! You guessed it! Buck and Eddie! Together! Kissing EACH OTHER!

Anyway I’m sure we’ll be lucky if Buddie goes canon /at all/ but if they do…. I wanna see it like this.

[languajix]

WIP Weekend - FFR Fashion Show Theme

Time for an unusually long WIP Weekend snippet! In honor of the Fandom Family Reunion's current theme, 'Fashion Show,' here is a bit from a little Hold Every Memory side story I'm working on that I currently refer to as the duckling story.

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion Cabin 14; just me!

You may remember this bit from 'Cause Your Future's Ready to Shine:

Here is a snippet from the duckling story that revisits that in more detail:

---

He had been vibing with his eyes closed, foot bopping to the music, when a few impatient little taps on his arm startled him out of his almost-meditation. He nudged one side of his headphones off his ear and propped himself up on his elbow. "What's up, little birdie?"

"We're gonna make you pretty!" Alicia declared, tugging at his forearm insistently, and okay. That was that. He dropped his phone into his pocket, rolled to his feet, and followed obediently, unthinkingly, just the slightest bit dumbstruck as she gripped his wrist in her own tiny hands and towed him along behind.

Pretty.

When was the last time he'd really let himself feel pretty?

Huh.

The living room was relatively quiet; most of the kids were in the gym with Raph, watching him punch stuff. All except Alicia, who was herding him towards the living area, and Belle, who was already sprawled out on the couch with assorted bags and plastic containers pried open around her.

Alicia pulled him to sit in front of said couch, facing outwards, and once he'd followed her unspoken direction she patted him on the shell like an obedient pet, and he snorted quietly, leaning back.

He felt small hands grasping under his mask tails and pulling them behind him, splayed out over the curve of his shell, and he resigned himself to being played with for a while like a big green doll. It was cute. He was glad that Belle seemed to be coming out of her shell, enough to be goofing around like this with a friend.

The girls whispered between each other, interspersed with happy giggles. Someone began tugging on his mask tails. He tried to relax into the music coming from his one headphone still over his ear, and to ignore the way the memory of the word pretty still ignited something small but warm in his chest. 'Pretty' wasn't for turtles like him, not with their whole… situation. The Foot stuff and. You know. The green. The muscles. He'd tried to enjoy a few stolen moments wearing skirts or dresses when they were younger, play it off all goofy and unashamed, but all of that bravado had crumpled under the weight of loss and fear and that awful numbness.

He barely flinched in surprise as a couple of bead necklaces slipped over his head, hitting his snout with a plastic clatter, leaving him blinking and shaking his head a little to dislodge them until they settled properly around his neck and over the front of his plastron.

"Sorry," Alicia whispered, and she and Belle broke into more silly laughter.

"And what do we have here?" Raph passed by with a water bottle in his hand and a tiny duckling in one arm, all sweaty and gross from his workout.

"Your ducklings are making me pretty, Raphy!" Mike grinned up at the squinted curious look he was being shot, trying to come off as wholly confident despite the tiniest little self-conscious thrill running down to the tips of his fingers. He didn't know why being pretty was suddenly just a little embarrassing, why it made him feel strangely vulnerable.

"Well then," Raph rumbled, and Mike could hear him walking around behind the couch. Normally this might be time for a rude comment, something about how you're gonna need a lot more than that to make this bonehead pretty, and Mike braced himself for it with a lot more steel than that kind of silly comment perhaps warranted, but Raph only hummed.

"You got a good start, there, but I bet we can make it a little more even," Raph said, and Mike couldn't remember the last time he'd heard his brother sound that utterly soft and gentle. He felt more tugging on his mask tails as Raph did… something to them. He still wasn't entirely sure what.

"Am I gonna be a pretty princess, Raph?" Mike asked, joking but also kind of not.

"The prettiest, Mike," Raph assured him with an audible grin in his voice, tone teasing but not mean, and Mike was so thankful that they were finally, finally back to a point that Raph could joke like this. "I'm gonna have to fight all the knights of the kingdom away with a stick. Lemme at 'em."

"Does that make you the dragon, then?" Mike mused. "Protecting the princess up in the tower?"

"Y'know what? I'm okay with that. Can't beat fire breath and a lotta sharp teeth, and of course the scales," Raph tugged Mike's mask tails one more time. "There we go. Lookin' better?"

"Yeah!" Belle exclaimed. "Thank you, Mister Raph!"

"None of this 'mister' stuff, okay kid? Just Raph."

"Okay Mister Raph," the ducklings chorused, and did Mike say that he loved them? Because he did. Raph's ducklings were awesome. He could tell Raph agreed by the way he harrumphed grumpily.

The girls kept playing with Mike's mask for a while, eventually urging him to take the headphones off completely. They snapped a few hair clips onto the edge of his mask - and ow, that kind of hurt - and then Alicia pretended to comb the top of his head with a blunt plastic comb, which he could feel through the mask as a sort of light massage. That, along with a smattering of small fingers pressing against his shell so lightly that he could barely feel it, was actually sort of calming. Like a clumsy little spa trip.

Leo walked through at one point just to eye him over with his mouth pressed flat, looking like he wanted to say something but was carefully restraining himself. This is a waste of time, probably. Mike stuck out his tongue, daring him to be anything less than complimentary and supportive in front of the kids. Leo walked on.

(…Leo was still a work in progress, though they were finally starting to get somewhere, thank shell. He'd turned into a bit of a phantom in the lair since the kids were first dropped off, but Mike wasn't giving up his hard-won ground just because Leo was a little nervous around some pint-sized pipsqueaks.)

"Okay, we're done!" Alicia cheered as Belle slid his mask tails back over his shoulder. "Go look! Look!"

He slid to his feet and obligingly puttered over to the mirror on the wall nearby; one of the many cracked, tarnished, over-used and under-loved things they'd filled the lair with when they realized they'd be having human guests.

It was as he suspected, kind of - the sort of little girl makeover with plastic baubles and bright colors, beauty in the playfulness and simplicity rather than in any sort of elegance. Strings of beads clicking against his plastron, hair clips attached to the edges of his mask…

…but his mask tails. Oh. He stared, for a long, long second, a stuck record, a caught breath.

The girls had used a purple ribbon to turn his tails into a braid, with beads interspersed through the many loops. They'd somehow managed to stick to his family's colors - blue, red, purple. White. Yellow, green.

(I carry you with me everywhere I go, he had told Donnie, once, when he caught Donnie looking at his purple painted nails. He knew Donnie loved it because Donnie gave him one of those rare quiet smiles, and the astral plane had warmed like a breaking dawn.)

Looking at himself in the mirror, wearing the colors of Donnie, of Raph, of Dad, April, Casey… he felt right, he felt happy with himself in a way that he had been so sure he'd never entirely feel again. He felt pretty. He felt complete.

He grinned, and it felt so real.

He turned, then, to get a better angle.

He started ugly chortling.

They'd stuck a terribly fun assortment of stickers to the back of his shell, right in the spots he couldn't reach - puffy stickers, holographic stickers, a few with fuzzy bits. Unicorns. Shooting stars.

It reminded him of himself when he was a kid. He'd done that, once. Got a whole box of rejects, slapped them on his brothers' shells.

"Look at that! I am, in fact, very pretty," he said for Alicia and Belle's benefit, "you guys should go into business as professional stylists! Raph can be your second customer."

"In your dreams!" he heard from the dojo nearby, and he snorted.

He stared again at his reflection, and you know what?

He did feel pretty.

[actualalligator]

WIP Wednesday

This is a snippet from "If I Lead, Will You Follow?" This feels so slow going rn. I feel like this is all I wanted to write when I started it, but my inspiration has stalled. Maybe getting more out into the universe will help. It's a longer snippet, so I'm gonna put it under a cut. Thank you @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad for tagging me 🩵

Eddie walked back into the living room and sat on the couch with his beer. If Buck was good at complicated legos, then he could have at it. Eddie was more than happy to sit back and drink his beer. 

As if he could read his mind, Christopher looked up at him. “Buck's way better at this than you, Dad.” 

Buck choked back a laugh. Eddie threw a half-hearted glare his way. 

“That's not very nice, bud,” Buck said after a second. “I'm sure your dad is plenty good.” 

Christopher's eyebrows drew together, and he shook his head. 

“What's parenthood if you're not being bullied by your own kid?” Eddie asked, voice soft enough that Christopher probably didn't register it. It got a soft huff of laughter from Buck, though. Eddie liked that sound a lot. “Buck can be your lego buddy from now on.” 

“Good,” said Christopher. “I thought I'd never get the Mars Rover finished.” 

“We may not finish this tonight “ Buck replied, looking through the instructions. 

“You can come back tomorrow,” Christopher said, and the way he said it sounded like it was just a given. Of course, Buck would come back again the next night to build legos with him.  

Buck frowned down at the instructions. “Well, I have to work tomorrow, buddy, but maybe I can come over the next time I'm off.” 

Christopher squinted up at Buck. “When is that?” and his tone was close enough to a demand that it made Eddie sit up a little straighter. 

“Ay, mijo. We have to be kind to our friends or they won't want to come and play,” he said, and he never raised his voice with Christopher, not like his dad had done with him, but he was firm. 

Christopher paused for a second, maybe to consider what he would say next, but his tone was much softer when he finally did speak. “When can you come back and play legos with me again, Buck?” 

“I'm off on Monday,” Buck says. 

Christopher looked at Eddie. “Dad, can Buck come over on Monday?” 

“I work on Monday,” Eddie said softly. He didn't want to let his kid down. “You're going to go to Abuela’s before and after school, and I won't pick you up until after you're asleep.”  

“Oh.” Christopher's little slumped shoulders were exactly what Eddie didn't want. 

Buck glanced between them. He pulled out his phone. Seconds later, Eddie's phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Buck: I could watch him after school on Monday. 

Eddie looked at the text, then at Buck. He appreciated that the offer had come as a text. They were still new to each other. But Eddie was surprised to find that he wanted to say yes. He trusted Buck already. And it would be nice to get to come right home after a twelve-hour shift and for Christopher to fall asleep in his own bed. 

“Maybe Buck can hang out with you after school here until I get home,” Eddie said. “You will have to promise me that you'll listen to Buck and you'll go to bed when he says it's time.”

Christopher's face lit up. “Yes, please! I promise!”

Buck was smiling too. “You'll have to let me know what you want for dinner, bud,” he said.

Christopher leaned forward with a very serious expression on his face. “Can you make grilled cheese? Dad always burns them.”

“Captain Nash, your dad’s boss, taught me how to make the best grilled cheese in the whole world,” Buck replied. He poked through the lego pieces in the bin and handed one to Christopher. “Do you like tomato soup?”

Christopher nodded. “Dad can make that pretty okay. We eat it with quesadillas sometimes. Those are usually okay.”

“Tomato soup and quesadillas can both be cooked in the microwave just fine,” Eddie said. “But we have good dinners too, mijo. Right? Like when we had spaghetti last week. That was good.”

Chris giggled and nodded again. “We had chicken nuggets with cheese in our spaghetti! It was the best I've ever had!”

“Oh yeah?” Buck asked. He glanced back at Eddie for a second before picking up the next piece of their build. “Maybe I can join you next time because I've never had that. And I love spaghetti and chicken nuggets.”

“Yeah. I'll call you,” Christopher replied, taking the piece and sticking it on.

Buck chuckled. “You've got my number?”

“Dad does. He lets me call Grandma and Abuelo,” Christopher said with a wave of his hand.

“Perfect. As soon as you know your dad has spaghetti on the menu, call me right up,” Buck told him. He handed him one more piece and closed the instructions. “I have to go start the chicken. We will have to pick this up after dinner."

No pressure tagging and anybody else who wants to share! I wanna read your WIPs!

@lochnesswriter @friendly-chaos @malewifediaz

[therealgchu]

WIP Wednesday - Spa Day

i've actually got something queued up for friday already, but it's pretty short. so, instead you'll get this little snippet i wrote.

i got the idea after listening to a critical role mighty nein eps where they all go to the spa. i really don't get the point of spas, personally. i even had a $150 gift card to some swanky spa up in boulder, and i gave it to a friend of mine, instead. like hwa, i don't like to be touched by strangers, and sitting and doing nothing sounds like hell.

tagging the coemancer crew, @atonalginger, @toxiclizardwrites, @silurisanguine, @fangbangerghoul, @a-cosmic-elf, @eridanidreams, @aro-pancake, and anyone else i'm forgetting.

if you'd like to check out my fic from the beginning, it's living at ao3.

new vignette incoming friday, called You Ruined Everything in the Nicest Way.

We have fic sign!

Sam found Hwa engrossed at the weapons worktable modifying a shotgun firing mechanism to high powered. She was wearing magnifying goggles, as the work could be fiddly and delicate when altering the internals of any gun. He realized she hadn’t heard him come down, so stayed on the stairs just outside of the door. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall to watch her. Her face was smudged with oil, her hair was sticking out in odd chunks from underneath the elastic band of the goggles; and the polish on her nails, presumably received at the spa, was gradually getting scraped away as she tinkered with the springs around the trigger release. When she paused and looked up, he asked, “Did you have fun at spa day?”

Hwa’s head whipped around and her expression was inscrutable, her mouth, if possible, was a weird squiggly line of part smiling, part frowning, and part confusion. “It was not an experience…I do not think it’s an experience I would choose to repeat,” she said slowly.

He chuckled knowingly, “I’m not surprised. It was nice of you to go, though. Did Cora have fun?”

She nodded, “But, I think she got bored by the end, too. And, it’s very difficult to read when you have slices of cucumber over your eyes. I’m not sure what the cucumber slices are for, however. So I ate mine.”

Sam choked, “You ate the cucumber slices?”

“What? I was hungry! There was no proper food, just … little cakes and pastries, and you know I don’t like that sort of thing. I could see no purpose that the cucumber slices were serving, so I ate them,” she shrugged.

He roared with laughter, shaking his head, “Oh my god, Hwa! I should have known!” He sat down on the stairs, clutching his stomach, tears streaming out of his eyes.

Hwa looked indignant, “I don’t know why you think it’s so funny. They were there. I was hungry. I ate them. It seemed a logical progression to me,” she pouted.

“I know,” he gasped between laughs, “logical progression. Right. Only you, Hwa.”

She started pouting in earnest, but turned back to her work, “If you’re going to make fun of me, you can leave me alone.”

Sam stood up, wiped his eyes and tried to get himself under control. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. At least not that hard.” He tried to suppress a giggle, but it escaped. She gave him a look. “Sorry! It slipped, OK?” He walked over and kissed her on the cheek as an apology. “So, other than vegetables, what did you think?” as he stood behind her looking over her shoulder.

Hwa paused and looked up again, staring at the wall. “Sarah and Noel called it “pampering”. If I wanted to be pampered, I’d have sex. I’m still trying to understand what was so pampering. Though, I did enjoy the sauna. Heat is always great for flexibility and I got to do some good stretching in there.”

It was a good thing she couldn’t see his face as it contorted into many forms as he tried not to burst out laughing again. “You know saunas are supposed to be for relaxing? You’re supposed to sit there, and ya know, relax,” he said in a slightly strangled tone.

“Why? That seems a waste.”

“You know what? You’re right,” he said after a couple seconds in the same strained tone.

She sighed, “You’re laughing at me again,” she said, frowning.

“No, I’m laughing behind you,” he said, finally losing control.

She grabbed a rag that was sitting on the workbench, turned and whacked his arm with it. “Jerk,” she said, pouting.

Sam laughed, softer this time, and gathered her in his arms, “Never change, love. Promise?”