#wow look at that fluff

[sssammich]

Let's try again...

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss for Supercorp

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss

thanks! alright let's seeeeee

ask meme

---

lena would never admit it, but one of her favorite past times is watching kara. call her a basic useless queer, but she can't help staring at her best friend across the couch from her. she's standing by the window of lena's office, pacing back and forth with a rolled up stack of papers as she essentially talks to herself.

the pacing has since graduated from kara standing on one side, giving out her lines before pivoting on her heel in a split second as if she's arguing with herself. lena can't help the smirk on her face when kara frowns at herself when she misses a line and has to open her stack of papers, haloed by the sun streaming through the windows.

now, lena knows that this is kara practicing for a speech she's about to give as a first time keynote speaker at an upcoming media conference tomorrow. but for now, she's more than happy to bask at this private performance that only she is privy to.

when kara huffs and practically tears the paper in her hands to shreds, lena is out of her seat on the couch and placing her own to stop her friend from making confetti.

"hey, hey," she starts, gentle. "what's going on?"

kara huffs, her glasses sliding just a smidgen down her nose. "i don't know why i agreed to this at all. i'm good with words, but not like this."

"now you know that's not true. you give hope speeches for a living. well, for a side gig."

that elicits an amused snort, albeit reluctant, from kara. "but this is different! i'm supposed to be talking about my work experience and my journey to becoming a senior reporter. that's less..." kara's words tapering off with a shrug.

"less what?"

"i don't know. less cool, i guess. i think about how i got this job and the other people in my office who are just as deserving of being able to share their work and their stories like me."

lena sighs, her heart warmed at her friend's admission, appreciative of her even more and think that through that alone, she thinks that kara deserves to try and share her story.

"then share their story. lift their voices up too. talk about your journey and theirs. let the people know that you're honored for the privilege of speaking to them but you're not the only one, and that the rest of your colleagues are a testament to that," she offers, suggesting a way to get kara out of any potential spiral that she might find herself in.

somehow, those are the right words to say to kara, who is now intently staring at her, nodding vigorously in understanding. then, before she knows what's happening, soft lips are on hers, their bodies pressed together. her mind, her panicking-and-going-cuckoo-bananas mind, finally catches up with what's going on and her body sinks into kara, her lips moving in synchronicity with kara's.

hands appear on her cheeks, cradling her, as her own hands wind up clutching at Kara's shoulders. if not for the need to breathe, lena thinks she would have stayed in that exact moment in time for the rest of her life, if she could.

with her chest slightly heaving, her eyelids slowly flutter open to find ocean blue eyes staring at her in what she can only assume is an identical dazed expression on her face.

"wow."

wow is right, she thinks. "wh-what was that for?"

kara shakes her head, but there's a smile on her face. her thumbs are caressing lena's cheeks. in response, she brings her hands to cradle kara's nape, her fingers just barely interlocking.

"i'd been wanting to do that for a while, but then you started talking and being so helpful and good and i just..."

"had to, huh?"

kara nods, smiles. "yeah."

she returns the smile with an earsplitting one of her own. "i know the feeling."

this time, it's she who leans forward.

[flowercrowngods]

Steve startles awake, disoriented and filled with a slight bout of panic — as always when he takes a nap that turns into five hours of deep sleep and catapults him right into the next dimension for a while there.

Heart racing, he blinks his dark bedroom into existence, and it takes him a while to realise where he is and what woke him up.

And then the landline phone on his nightstand rings again, and he exhales deeply before reaching for it with clumsy, sluggish movements.

“‘Ello?”

“Steve,” comes Eddie’s sing-song voice from the other end, washing over Steve in a soothing way that leaves him falling back into the pillows. He clutches the phone to his ear as he closes his eyes, the smile already forming at how happy Eddie sounds. He rarely sings Steve’s name like that. He should do it more often.

“Hi there.” His voice sounds like shit. Like he just took a — Jesus Christ, has it really been four hours? Well. He sounds exactly like someone who took a four-hour nap after a shit day at work would sound like.

There’s fumbling on the other end, but it stops suddenly. “Did I wake you? Shit man, I thought it was past nap time.”

“I don’t have nap time,” Steve grumbles, actually pouting at Eddie’s words and realising only a second too late how ridiculous he sounds.

“Sure, man, whatever you say. We all know you’re actually just a life-sized toddler.”

Steve sputters, sitting up against his headboard as he gradually wakes up. “Hey! Also, I don’t think you actually understand what life-sized means.”

“Yes, I do.”

Steve shakes his head at this ridiculous, ridiculous man. “What exactly do you think a non-life-sized toddler looks like, Eduardissimo?”

“Like Dustin.”

The answer is so quick and deadpan, Steve cannot contain the laugh that bursts out of him, waking him up quicker and gentler than anything else in the world could have, and he revels in the sound of Eddie joining him. He must look so smug right now, and so damn proud of himself. Steve wants to see him. Wants to kiss that smile right from his lips and replace it with something a lot more genuine.

“You’re an asshole,” he says instead, pulling his blanket further around him as he lifts his knees to sit more comfortably.

Eddie hums, still teasing somehow with just that noise, and Steve just can’t stop smiling. “You like me so much, Harrington.”

“Hmm,” he mirrors Eddie’s hum, but even he can hear the smile on his face. “Jury’s still out on that one, actually.”

“Any tendencies yet on the verdict?”

“Nope, they can’t decide.”

Eddie snorts at that, and Steve has no idea how that can sound so sweet. But it does. He buries his smile in his knees for a bit, the blanket hot around his burning cheeks. He’s hopeless.

“Well, let me know as soon as they do, yeah?”

“Will do,” he laughs, ruining all his attempts to sound solemn. “So what’s up? Why’d you call?”

“Oh!” And suddenly it’s like a switch has been flipped and Eddie doesn’t sound teasing and smug anymore, but instead just fucking giddy! “I have a bed now!”

Steve smiles at it. At that voice, that tone, that infectious emotion. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” More fumbling on the other end, and Steve can only imagine that Eddie is rolling around in his newly acquired bed.

Who’s the life-sized toddler now, hm?

“No more sleeping on the floor for this Munson boy, nuh-uh, my good sir! We are in possession of a bed now. A wooden bed, no fancy headboard or anything, just…”

“Just a bed,” Steve says, feeling like he’s about to burst into a million little particles of fondness and affection and the never-ending need to kiss Eddie. To hold him. To touch him in any way he can. “That’s great, Edsie.”

“It is, Stevesie.”

“Man, I hate you so much,” Steve squints at the ceiling and laughs, actually kicking his feet, the minute breeze providing a little relief for the heat in his face.

And Eddie has no business to sound so smug when he says, “Yeah, you do.”

A pause then, and it feels loaded even through the phone. Steve clutches it closer to his face, hoping stupidly that Eddie can feel it.

“You should come hate me in my new bed.”

Steve’s breath hitches, and his brain shuts off for a hot second there. Before he can overthink this, he decides to just… play along. And listen to what his heart has been telling him for months now.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, breathless still, but his whole body tingles with just these two words. With the possibility they bring. The offer that they are. The question. The everything that’s stored in them.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he sounds just as breathless. “I mean, if— If you want to?”

“I do.” Steve swallows. “Right, uh— Right now?”

“Whenever.” And it sounds more like an As soon as possible.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, scrambling out of bed as quickly as possible, pulling off his shirt with the phone still pressed to his ear, letting out an embarrassing noise as it gets tangled in a mess of cord and fabric. He scrambles to free it, almost dropping it in the process. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

“To come look at my new bed?”

“Sure.”

On the other end, Eddie laughs again, but he still sounds just as breathless as Steve does. Just as excited. As fragile. Just as many fucking things.

“Alright,” Eddie murmurs, though Steve can still hear the smile. “I’ll see you then.”

And then he hangs up before either of them can get lost in their own heads about this sudden certainty of change. Steve is grateful for the steady noise of the dial tone reminding him that this is happening. But that nothing has to happen.

It’s a nice bed, he finds hours later, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair who’s cuddling him half asleep. It’s the best fucking bed he’s ever seen, if only because it led to this.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 (lmk if you want on or off)

[lulublack90]

Prompt 16 - Book

@jegulus-microfic November 16, Word count 590

Previous part First part

James could very easily get used to having Regulus sprawled on top of him fast asleep. He really hoped that he’d never have to give this up. Regulus made a soft snorting noise as he shuffled in his sleep, his hands grasping the front of James’s t-shirt tightly. James cooed quietly to him, stroking his back until he settled down again. 

James’s eyes started wandering around the room, taking in all the little differences Regulus had made to make the room his. When Sirius lived here, it had been a bomb site. He was allergic to putting clothes away. James had caught him more than once doing the sniff test on multiple pieces of clothing to check if they were clean or not. Sometimes, his mum would come over and tidy everything up and clean all of Sirius’s dirty washing for him, and the room would look immaculate, but it never lasted long. James knew Remus wouldn’t stand for it. He’d seen their room, just on the other side of the wall. While it was a bit messy, it was nowhere near as bad as it would be if only Sirius was in it. But Regulus’s room was the complete opposite, neatly ordered. All his clothes were away, the drawers fully shut with nothing poking out, and even his art supplies were organised so he could easily find what he needed. The only messy part of his room was his bedside table. It was piled with scraps of paper with hastily written notes on them. A half-drunk cup of tea, his laptop and a small pile of books stacked haphazardly on top of each other. James plucked the top book from the pile and flipped it over to read the title, ‘Wuthering Heights’. James had heard of it but had never read it. He looked at the spines of the other books, ‘Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Jane Eyre, Tess of the D’Urbervilles,’ Oh, Regulus liked regency romance novels. James chuckled to himself quietly, trying not to disturb Regulus. He opened the book and began reading. 

“Hey,” Regulus’s sleepy voice startled him a little while later. He’d been completely caught up in the antics of Cathy and Heathcliff and hadn’t noticed Regulus stirring.

“Hey, love,” He said, smiling down at Regulus’s sleepy face. 

“Enjoying it are you?” Regulus asked, nodding towards the book. 

“Yes, actually. Can I borrow it?” James really wanted to find out what happened. A small, sweet smile spread across Regulus’s mouth, curling the corners of his mouth. James wanted so badly to lean down and capture that smile with his lips, but he held himself back. They hadn’t actually kissed on the lips yet. Just little pecks to the cheeks. He wanted to kiss him so badly. 

“Of course, you can,” Regulus said in answer to James’s question, and James, who had been so wrapped up in his thoughts about kissing Regulus properly for the first time, thought Regulus was giving him permission and leant forward, pressing his lips against Regulus’s soft smile. 

They both froze, James’s eyes widening dramatically as he tried to pull away, apologising. But Regulus reached up, held his head firmly between his hands and pulled James’s lips back to his, sinking back into his pillow and taking James with him. James gasped as delicate fingers found their way under his shirt and brushed against his bare skin. He groaned and rose above Regulus, getting a better angle and deepening their kiss. He’d started, and now he didn’t ever want to stop.   

Next part

[crimsongrimoire]

never call the iudex's bluff worst mistake of wrios life. rip wriothesley then-now he died doing what he loved (flirting too much and it backfiring on him)

[jadecantcreate]

something something sarnax’s fire being of divine origin, gifted for his devotion and shepherd’s fire being of hellish origin, inherent to him……. something something something place name proper name backstory stuff something something

[top-wing]

Floof

Ay, it's better than wet feathers, no?

[anulithots]

GUESS WHOOO WROTTEE THEIRR FIRSTTT FANFFICCC???

It's for Link Click and akjfaskljdfaksdfj I FINSIHED IT. AT 4 AM AND I"VE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE FANFIC FOREVERRRRRRR YAYYYYYY

4am, in Which Exists Time and Time Alone. - The_Land_of_the_Fallen_Fairies - 时光代理人 | Link Click (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own]

KSDFJSKDFSKDLFjSDKL

er, gently tagging my link click moots!

@reyroo @sleepy-vix @celestialsun123 

Ta da!!!

[hirrus-peaceful-jump]

Fellow Slang simp-

Are we going to ignore Mr. Lang saying "Cameron is a sadist and I'm a masochist.... and vice versa" in this 2011 interview???????

Sir are you implying that you are a...a...a switch good at using metaphors? Now you look at this evil smile...

The video for science:

[foolofatook001]

Faerie Fort Week Day Three -- Flowers

Good Times, for a Change

Ren is up to something, Lizzie can tell. He's been dodgy all day, avoiding her questions and quickly stowing things in his inventory when she gets too close to the tree he's decided is his guard post, and acting all— shifty, really. 

Her first thought is that he's the Boogeyman, but that's quickly discarded, because she was the Boogeyman this week, and she's already lifted the curse. There hasn't been a new one chosen yet. 

Her next thought— and she admits the next moment it’s a little unfairly paranoid— is that he's planning to betray her somehow. A part of her rebels at the thought— Ren has been nothing but helpful and loyal so far, and even went so far as to move his entire base so it would be across the river from her. He's sworn to defend her in exchange for that life she gave him, and he seems to be upholding that deal. 

Not to mention it's just simply out of character. It's Ren. Ren with his boundless enthusiasm, going out of his way to get her diamonds for armor. Ren, who looms comfortingly at her back when they go to talk to other factions, lending reassurance by his presence alone. 

No, of all of her allies, Ren is the one she's least worried about. But that doesn't change the fact that he is up to something, and she wants to know what. Unfortunately, all her wiles and wheedling get her nowhere. Ren— though laughing and apologetic— refuses to tell her what the big secret is. "It's not ready yet," is all he says. "Just— just give it a little bit." Perhaps he sees she's put out, because he hastens to add, "You'll like it! 'Twill be a gift worthy of a Queen. I hope," he finishes, a little sheepishly. 

Lizzie gives him an imperious look and turns sharply on her heel. "All right, I'll leave you to your own devices," she calls over her shoulder. Inwardly, though, she's relieved. He's not plotting anything. He's just… being Ren. 

The fond smile that crosses her face is almost entirely unconscious. 

Lizzie finds other things to occupy herself with— the Fairy Fort still needs securing, and the tunnel to Cleo and BigB's castle isn't finished yet. She takes her wolves and goes hunting for mobs when evening falls; though neither she nor her allies are red or even close to it, stocking up on potion and weapon supplies now is always a good idea. 

She returns in the morning, just as the sun is peeking over the treetops. Dragon and Ogre walk on either side of her, panting. Taxes brings up the rear, trotting proudly with a bone clenched tight in her teeth. To her surprise, Ren is there, sitting just inside the gate, his cheek resting on his knees, sound asleep.

"Sit," Lizzie whispers to her wolves, who obediently stop where they are, tongues lolling out of their mouths (except for Taxes, who begins gnawing quietly on her bone). She creeps toward her sleeping knight, mischief on her mind. She eases the gate open, holding her breath, but Ren doesn't stir. She drops into a crouch next to him and then pokes him sharply in the arm. "Ren," she says. 

He sits bolt upright, almost falling backwards when he realizes how close Lizzie is. She laughs and stands as he shakes off his disorientation, offering him a hand. When he takes it, pulling himself up, she flinches— his skin is ice-cold. 

"Were you out here all night?" she asks, frowning. 

Ren tilts his head from side to side, working out the stiffness (there are several audible pops). "Am I in trouble if I say yes?"

Lizzie crosses her arms. "You have a base, Ren."

"But I was waiting for you!" he protests. "I finally finished the, er— the thing!"

Her fond exasperation is immediately set aside. "Oh? Do tell."

He ushers her over to one of the fallen logs they often use for seating beside the pond. Lizzie's wolves trail behind them, finding a good spot to lay down. "Here, one second." He pauses, then flaps a hand at her. "Close your eyes, it's a surprise!" 

Lizzie rolls said eyes, but closes them dutifully. She feels something light settle on the top of her head, and she opens her eyes to see Ren's proud smile in front of her. 

"Now you look the part," he says, with no small amount of satisfaction. He goes down to one knee and presses his fist over his heart in a salute. "My Queen."

Lizzie catches sight of her reflection in the pond and realizes what it is he's given her— a crown made of flowers, pink and blue and gold. She takes it off gently, so she can get a better look at it. She can see the progress— the knots and braiding in the stems get cleaner as she follows their line around the circle. "Ren," she says, and the sudden upswell of fondness she feels is almost enough to cut off the rest of her words. "This is lovely." She returns the crown to her head and takes Ren's offered hand to get to her feet. As he pulls her up, she uses the momentum to press a kiss to his cheek. "I appreciate this gift, O most loyal of knights mine."

The rose-red blush blooming on Ren's cheeks is almost better than the crown of flowers.

(also on ao3) (prompt post)

[youngpettyqueen]

ummm um fic recs….in a horrible turn of events garak and bashir have to babysit the ds9 kids?

ive been wracking my brains over how Garak and Julian would end up babysitting a bunch of the kids and I had a hard time figuring out something that would work with Jake and Nog, since theyre older and dont really need a babysitter, so I went with them babysitting Molly and Yoshi! I hope that's alright <3

Garak isn't sure what to expect when he the door to the O'Briens quarters slides open. All he knows is that Julian told him to come, and his only answer to Garak's many questions was to repeat himself with a don't ask just do it tone.

So, Garak had. He'd come. In the middle of the work day, something he's not planning on letting the Doctor forget. He'd come, and he steps inside as the door slides open, and he doesn't know what he was expecting to find here, but it certainly wasn't... this.

Julian is sitting on the floor by the coffee table, the infant Kirayoshi cradled securely in one arm. He also has what appears to be a plastic crown on his head, which is several sizes too small, and perches awkwardly atop his hair. The older of the O'Brien offspring, Molly, is sitting beside him, in what Garak would guess is a human princess costume, all shiny fabric and very, very pink.

Garak comes to pause, considering the scene before him. There are little plastic teacups and plates set out. A few larger plush toys are also around the table, with teacups and plates of their own. It's quite the little set up.

"Good morning, Doctor. Molly," He greets, turning a quizzical raised brow on Julian, "Might I ask why I was called here?"

Julian gives him a look that is very, very tired. "Good morning, Mr. Garak," He replies, "You were called here because you have been invited to Princess Molly's tea party." He informs him.

"Tea party?" Garak echoes.

"I'll explain later," Julian tells him, "Just come sit." He gestures to an open space at the other end of the coffee table.

"Wait!" Molly pipes up, quickly standing. Julian winces at her volume, quietly shushing her as he looks at Kirayoshi, who appears to be sleeping. Garak turns his attention to the child, who holds her head up high and informs him, "You have to bow first."

Garak considers her for a moment. He catches Julian stop himself from laughing in the corner of his eye. Of course, Garak knows about royalty systems, so he knows what a princess is. And he can't imagine himself bowing to one, but Molly has a very stern look on her very little face, and he has a feeling he's in for a fight if he doesn't comply.

He bows. Dramatically, with a flourish. Molly giggles, and the sound is... pleasing.

"Thank you for the invitation, Princess," Garak bids her, continuing to play along as he straightens himself, "May I...?" He gestures to the open seat.

Molly, to his surprise, shakes her head. "Not there," She tells him, "You have to sit with Uncle Julian. Miss Flutterhooves will move." She gestures at the plush sitting on Julian's opposite side- an equine, if he remembers his Earth animals correctly, except this one is... purple, and it has a shiny silver horn protruding from its forehead.

He goes with it. Why not, at this point? He's clearly not getting out of this. "Of course," He says agreeable, stepping closer. Since the plush toy can't move, for obvious reasons, he gently picks it up, "Pardon me, Miss... Flutterhooves," He shoots Julian a quick glance, who nods approvingly, and he proceeds with moving the toy to the open spot at the end of table, and then going to take his own seat beside Julian. He shuffles in as much as possible, awkwardly crossing his legs and trying to keep his knees from tucking under the table, "There we are. This is... very lovely." He compliments as he settles into a somewhat-comfortable position.

"Very lovely," Julian agrees, looking at Molly, "You've done a wonderful job, Princess Molly."

Molly gives Julian a pleased little smile. "Thank you!" She squeaks. Then she suddenly perks up again, like she's heard something, "Oh! I have to go get the tea. It's done sleeping." She stands and, tucking up her skirts like a proper lady, she hurries off to go and... wake the tea, apparently.

"Steeping," Julian offers, as Garak gives him a confused look, "She means steeping."

Garak nods. That doesn't explain... anything else that's going on here. "Tea party?" He asks. Again.

"An old Earth game, of sorts," Julian replies, "Human children commonly pretend to hold tea parties, usually with their parents and their toys involved. Hence," He gestures around the table with his free hand, "All this."

"I see," Garak says, "And I was invited, why...?"

Julian suddenly won't make eye contact. "Molly insisted," He tells him, quick and clearly not the entire truth, "And I just got Kirayoshi to sleep for the first time all day, so I wasn't about to risk Molly getting upset and waking him," He does look at Garak again, this time with a surprising amount of desperation for a man sitting in front of a plastic teacup, with a plastic crown on his head, "He cried for three. Hours. Garak." He stresses each word, exhaustion and desperation oozing from every syllable.

Garak knows of the infant's tendency towards tears. He has no idea how Kirayoshi manages to wail for so long, considering how tiny his lungs are, but he's been able to hear the shrieking from across the promenade.

"I'm not sure the Chief would approve my being here," He points out, "Or Mrs. O'Brien, for that matter."

"I won't tell if you won't. Just play along," Julian implores him, "That's all I ask, just play along. Molly is very sweet, and also very stubborn, and I promise you I'll make it up to you if you just humour her." He's very nearly begging.

Garak has seen Julian less desperate in active crisis situations. He sighs, making a point to be melodramatic about it. "Very well, my dear," He agrees, "I suppose I can find it in myself to play along with the whims of a little girl. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Don't invite that on yourself," Julian warns, "You haven't seen her when she's cranky."

At that moment, Molly returns. In her hands she carries a teapot that matches her teacups, and she proudly brings it to the table and sets it down in the middle of everything. "Ta-da!" She announces, prompting Julian to gently shush her again, "Tea time!" She does not heed his shushing, "Want the first cup, Uncle Julian?" She asks, holding the pot out to him.

Just like that, Julian is smiling again. "I would love the first cup, Princess Molly," He says. He holds the teacup up, and it's comically small in his hand, "Thank you very much."

Molly tips the teapot forward. No actual tea comes out. Still, she holds it like that for a few seconds, before she tips it back. "There you go!" She chirps. Right, pretend. She turns her smile on Garak, and offers him the pot, "Tea?"

Garak delicately picks the teacup up by the handle, which he has to pinch between two claws. "I would be honoured," He says, laying it on thick. Molly pours the pretend tea into his cup, and he gives her his most winning smile, "Thank you, Princess."

Molly goes around the table, pouring tea for the other guests. Garak resists the urge to comment on the teapot apparently being bottomless, and instead glances at Julian. "Uncle Julian?" He questions, an amused smirk curling on his face.

"I'm her favourite uncle." Julian grins.

"I'm sure," Garak murmurs. Molly retakes her seat, and he turns to her, "Ah, Princess, allow me," He reaches across the table to take the teapot, and he pours her her own cup. He's not sure of the exact method to this, but he counts to 3 and then stops, and she looks satisfied, "Could I ask you a question, Princess?" He asks as he sits back, setting the pot down.

"First, cheers," Molly insists. She thrusts her cup up into the air, and Julian raises his, so Garak follows their lead. They clink their little teacups together- literally, "Clink!" She says.

"Clink." Julian echoes.

"Clink," Garak adds. Then Molly sips, and so does Julian, so he follows. When that's done, he inquires, "May I ask my question now?" Molly nods, and he smiles, "Ah, thank you. Yes, my question is, what made you invite me to the tea party, Princess Molly?"

Molly sets her teacup down. "For Uncle Julian." She replies.

Garak can see Julian looking pointedly away from him in his peripheral. "I see," He says, "And why was I invited for Uncle Julian?" He follows up.

"Cause you're married." Molly replies, like it's the most obvious thing in the Quadrant.

Julian chokes on nothing. Garak's eyes widen. "Married?" He echoes. He turns to Julian, who's gone a truly impressive shade of red, right up to the tips of his ears, "Married?" He repeats.

"Yeah!" Molly says, apparently an expert on the subject, "That's what grown-ups do when they're in love! Like my mommy and daddy. You," She points at Garak, "And Uncle Julian are in love, so you're married."

"She's 5." Julian hisses under his breath, just loud enough for Garak to hear.

Garak needs to take a deep breath. He's not often truly caught off guard, but that... he feels like he's just been knocked flat on his back. Alright. Married. He can go along with that. He's certainly gone along with far worse things.

Suddenly he understands Julian's exhaustion and desperation a few moments prior.

"Well, it was... very polite of you to invite me, Princess," He manages to get out, trying to slot back into his role here, "It's nice to spend time with my... husband." That makes Julian turn even redder. He looks like he's about to start glowing.

"Mommy and daddy wanted together-time today," Molly tells him, looking oh-so-serious for a girl of 5 years old, "So you and Uncle Julian probably want together-time, too. That's what married grown ups want." She explains.

Garak can't help but chuckle. "You're very wise," He says. Because she isn't... wrong. When it comes to him and Julian, at least, "I did want together-time with Uncle Julian today." He admits. They were supposed to see each other for lunch today, but then Julian got called away to babysit the O'Brien children, so it was to be rescheduled. And, soft as it makes him, those lunches are truly about... the only thing he looks forward to, so, yes. He did want together-time, as she put it, with Julian.

Molly glances at Julian, and then she leans over the table. "He did, too," She whispers, except it's very loud, and Julian can obviously hear her, "He told me he missed your lunchtime."

Garak glances at Julian, who's again very much not looking at him. He can't help but melt, just a bit, just enough to soften up. "Did he now?" He hums, "Well, that's alright. We have this tea party, don't we?" He puts his hand on the table, holding it out to Julian.

Julian looks at his hand. Then looks up at him, all round eyes and surprise. And then he smiles, all warm and affectionate. "That we do." He says, taking Garak's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Ew," Molly pulls a face, "You're being gross like mommy and daddy."

Julian snorts a laugh. Garak chuckles. They let go of their hands and go back to their teacups, following Molly's lead as she sips at air again. Then she insists on refilling their cups, and they sit back and let her.

Julian's hand finds his on the floor. Garak takes it, brushes his thumb over Julian's knuckles. They exchange a private look, a small smile, Julian still red in the cheeks.

Maybe this isn't such a bad way to spend an afternoon, after all.

[minhyeong]

&. 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞

genre: fluff | word count: 907

↳ “I wasn’t expecting you to propose to me like this, but my answer is yes.”

Three pairs of expectant eyes were drilling into Haechan, gleaming with interest as he flipped the half cooked, slightly pink meat on the grill. The smoke spiraled upward. Haechan sniffled, nose a fiery winter pink as he concentrated on ensuring an evenly spread cooking process. The tongs in his clutch scraped against the steel grate. 

You nearly salivated onto the fleece scarf tightly wrapped around your neck as you took a whiff of the food. The two cats by your feet were also lured by the scent that dispersed with the flurry of wind. One of them did a small lap around the grill, tail grazing your ankles in a gentle sway. 

“How much longer?” you mumbled, dragging your feet across the dirt and planting your chin on his shoulder to urge him. You pulled your gloved hands out of your own pockets, tugged on the hood that was slipping back on his head until it properly covered his exposed ears, and wound your arms around him until you could comfortably dig your hands deep into the pockets of his jacket instead.

“Soon.” Haechan did a sidestep to retrieve the salt, pulling you along with him.  

The cats plopped down and lugged their limbs in, basking in the warmth emanating from the grill. The loud sizzles and the serene aroma were almost intoxicating. You slowly marched in place in a poor attempt to shove the hunger out of your mind. 

When he declared the meat was fully cooked, you snapped your head forward with a force that nearly dislocated his jaw in the unexpected headbutt. 

Haechan wailed, clutching the side of his face as he stumbled several steps back. “I spent an hour in the cold cooking, and this is what I get?” You rushed forward to apologize in a panic. He took a peek at you, taking note of your furrowed brows, and scrunched his face into a dramatic, fake cry. 

“Alright, there aren’t even any tears,” you deadpanned. 

He cackled when you caught on and stood up straight again, rolling his shoulders back.

You dashed behind Haechan and desperately leaned your entire body weight on him until he shuffled forward. “I aged ten years waiting for food, so please!” You pulled back when he was right in front of the table and picked up the knife, prying his hand open before you firmly planted the handle into his palm and nudged his arm toward the meat.

He gave you an incredulous look since you were perfectly capable of using the knife yourself while you eagerly beamed at him without lifting a finger. A few silent moments went by as your eyes flitted from his still hands to his unchanging expression. You landed a whack on his shoulder. His torso jolted forward and recoiled. “I’ll clean up! Come on, the food is getting cold!”

Haechan scoffed, pushing his cheek out with his tongue. He waved the smoke away and sliced everything into generous chunks, fighting back a smile when he noticed the way you were bouncing with anticipation. “This is for my baby,” he cooed, holding up a slice of meat as an offer. 

To say you were physically, emotionally, mentally, and in any way possibly prepared for the savory taste would have been an understatement. The disappointment smacked you like a bucket of iced water when he hunched over, bypassing your mouth that was ready to chomp down. Haechan stroked the cat’s back after dropping the meat right in front of it. 

Your shoulders dropped. “You know this cat?” The hunger was clouding your judgment; you couldn’t believe you were almost jealous of an animal you've met for the very first time. 

Haechan ignored the question and the pointed glare you gave him. He reached for more with the tongs, purposely making a show of digging through the plate for the largest chunk he could find. Your scowl softened when he inched toward you with an innocent smile. He shifted to the right just when the tips of his sneakers touched yours, bending over to offer the meat to the other cat that purred behind you. 

The muscles along your jaw tensed. Your lips pulled back to expose clenched teeth. “I think they’re good now. Can you at least give me the tongs?” 

His eyes flickered with defiance when he pulled back to look at you. Then, he spun on his heels and returned to the table, swaying his shoulders in the most infuriating manner. “And this one is for the best person in the world!” 

You lurched forward, grabbing his arm with ruthless pressure as you tried to force the meat into your own mouth. Haechan was a few seconds quicker. He hummed mockingly about how it melted on his tongue. Waving the tongs in the air, he wriggled his entire body as a celebration of how successful his cooking was, completely disregarding how you’ve been open-mouthed the past two minutes, consuming nothing but the chilly breeze. 

Your tongue went dry, mouth crimping. “I want a divorce.”

“Okay, bring the marriage papers. I’ll sign them.”

“I said I want a divorce,” you bitterly uttered. 

He flicked his fringe, smirking teasingly. “I wasn’t expecting you to propose to me like this, but my answer is yes.”

“What part of divorce are you not understanding?” 

Haechan chuckled, blowing on the food gently before finally bringing it to your lips. “Save that for after we get married.” 

[97luvs]

bro is literally fucking gorgeous.

[yoakkemae]

there's a knock on the door. shōto swallows down the rock in his throat as much as possible , using his sleeves to wipe the tears streaming down from his right eye. he takes a few moments to breathe in deeply before calling out , voice slightly gravelly , ' come in. '

[frankthesnek]

Unspoken

McShep, Rated G, first kiss, fluff, getting together

Post shrine. Because Rodney running to John's room meant more to both of them than they admitted. And they both knew it. (inspired by this post from @johnsheppard-assshaker)

John sat at his desk, staring at the cursor blinking on his screen. Mission reports sucked. Mission reports detailing the near death and stupidly risky brain surgery of your best friend? Those sucked ten times worse. He already couldn't get the images out of his head. Rodney's dazed expressions and awkward movements as his body and mind were stolen from him. Taking a deep breath, he looked to the ceiling, staring at the light there until dots danced across his vision in an attempt to chase away the thoughts.

A swift rapping came at his door and he shut his eyes, rubbing his palms into them in an effort to correct his vision. "Come in," he hollered.

It was Rodney. Alive and well, granted very tired looking and with a bandage still across his forehead. "Uh, hi."

"Hey," John greeted back and stood walking around to be next to his friend. "She released you? I hadn't heard."

The scientist humed softly, not quite meeting John's eye as his hand drifted up to lightly touch said bandage. He seemed off–nervous but not in the panicky way his nerves normally presented.

"Everything okay?" John prodded shifting closer and thinking the door closed.

"I, uh, this is awkward," Rodney started and cleared his throat. "About when I was sick, I remember a lot of what happened actually, and about that night…"

John swallowed tightly as a lump settled in his throat, choking him off. Yeah, he remembered too. Was trying really hard not to. It hurt, it hurt too much.

Rodney rushing to his room, pounding on his door, bursting in and holding onto him like he–John–was the only anchor left to his sanity. How frantic Rodney had been about waking up without him there. The unspoken things that had passed between them in that short conversation, that had hung high and loft above them as they sipped beer together under the stars.The evening hard and touching, intimate and depressing all at once.

"What about it?" John made himself say and he knew it came out tight and froggy.

"I'm sorry for how I acted, for running here and– I mean because that was ridiculous, right? Acting like that, like you were–" he drifted off, the last few words being spoken softer, sadder as he lost momentum.

"No," John rebuffed quickly, taking a half step closer. He wanted to reach out to grip Rodney's shoulders just like he had that night. Wanted to say so many of those unspoken things, but he didn't know how.

Rodney met his eyes, and John knew he didn't have to say anything. He couldn't pretend like things hadn't shifted between them, and if the soft nearly pleading look in Rodney's eyes was any give away he couldn't either. So John did it–did what he'd wanted to that night and held back because Rodney had been sick and vulnerable, and it wouldn't have been fair.

Dipping in to kiss the other man was easy for multiple reasons. One because he was already so close; and two, because Rodney didn't put up a fight. Stood there and let it happen, meeting him halfway, head subtly inclining to John as he moved.

"Did I say something I don't remember that night?" Rodney asked when they parted. His tone was thoughtful, and John got the impression that he was asking himself the question more than anything.

"No," John supplied, bringing his hands up to hold Rodney like he had that night. Hands on his shoulders squeezing with reassuring and possessive fingers. "You didn’t have to say it."

"Maybe I want to," Rodney said back, but those were the last words said for some time as John pulled him in for another long deserved, well overdue kiss.

[cakeleighh]

No organisation, only Jenny in the Blue Beetle bike ! au because I love her uwu

Admittedly, if I didn’t say this was Jenny you wouldn’t be able to tell, but that is kind of the point so,,,, anyway, time for more sketches from my phone :,D

If this is confusing there’s a previous post.

Love her, shes an icon. She managed to infiltrate the races easy enough, but it’s everything after -that is difficult. Trying to do recon while also keeping up with filming the high intensity races is something anyone would struggle with. After finally finding the beetle and the bike (easily enough, Jaime literally just kinda waltzed in one day), her job became much more about protecting the rider and making sure her aunt couldn’t take back what she thought was hers.

Ironically, to keep up the incognito act, she made sure to play to the crowds. Building up this personality of a presenter/camera person, which the general public loved. She unintentionally became the face/mascot of Kord races, which Jenny is sure her father would’ve found hilarious.

Anyway, I love love love love the mask. I was thinking about making the mouth like a protogen ‘w’ shape to go with the ears, but it was too blocky for the design. So instead I just had one of those music beat line -thingies instead, which looked way cooler than I thought it would. It moves when she speaks, which would look absolutely amazing but I would have to animate it myself which I’m still debating whether it’s worth doing or not.

[sga-owns-my-soul]

“I thought, if I’m not smart, there’s no use for me anymore. I’m deadweight on the team. I thought you wouldn’t risk bringing me out to the field, if I’m not brilliant then I’m just another liability you have to focus on keeping safe. I thought... I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Rodney...” he whispered, and reached a hesitant hand up to cup the other man's cheek.