#yes dammit my cuddly toys will come with me

[icryyoumercy]

meeting for the thing bola volunteered me for, but she's waiting for results for her covid test and generally not feeling well, so now i'm all on my own, and

*autistic panic*

[jjbaconsumedmysoul]

Polnareff x Reader

Hope you don’t mind if i just kill two birds with one stone here, ahemmm (idk does disney have claw machines? It does now!) Big tiddy french gf deserves ALL THE FLUFF and I wanted to make something special out of it these two prompts <3 (also featuring my favorite French pet name: “my little cabbage”)

You were thrilled when he told you about the trip he had planned! A week long pass to every park, a five star hotel right across from the Magic Kingdom, and right in the middle of autumn nonetheless. But no matter how excited you were for the vacation, your boyfriend’s enthusiasm far outweighed yours. On the dates leading up to it he would shower you in kisses, staring at you dreamily and sighing as he talked about how romantic is was going to be, how fun it was going to be! You giggled at his giddiness, joking that maybe this trip was more of a vacation for him and not a romantic getaway for the both of you. But he reassured you that he just wanted to share the fun with you, after all you knew how much he loved taking you to amusement parks.

He held your hand the entire flight over. It was kind of amazing how energized he still managed to be after hours of sitting on a plane, hauling luggage to the taxi, confirming the tickets and checking into the hotel. Honestly, you collapsed on the bed and blacked out as soon as you entered the hotel room.

You awoke the next day feeling warm lips on your cheek. Then your nose. Then your forehead. They kept getting faster until you started giggling and reached your hands out to cup his face as you pressed your forehead to his.

“Are you awake yet mon amour?” you smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. You weren't exactly surprised to find he had already gotten dressed for the day: a loose fitting tank top with the mickey mouse silhouette emblazoned on the front, heart shaped pink tinted sunglasses, and umm… dear god why was he wearing those tight booty shorts? You shrugged it off (I mean, it wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate the view) as you rubbed your eyes and sat up. Jean-Pierre was sometimes a bit of an idiot when it came to picking out his own clothes, but he was cute nonetheless. You giggled as you noticed a loose strand of silver hair falling out of his usual impeccable hairdo, indicating that he probably put himself together in a hurry, ready for a day full of adventure. Quickly, you hopped out of bed and did the same, looking forward to a fun and exciting week with your boyfriend.

Though he was eager to quickly get off to the parks, he couldn’t skip over the delicious breakfast buffet, and you both spent at least 45 minutes sampling all the offerings they had.

“Mon coeur, look!” You looked up from the steaming cup of coffee that was slowly but surely waking up your body to see a giddy Jean-Pierre holding a tall stack of… “Waffles!!!” the tower was smothered in syrup, whipped cream and chocolate chips, and upon further inspection, you noticed that each golden brown waffle was shaped like Mickey Mouse. He sat down next to you, cutting off a small piece before leaning over with the fork extended “open wide!” You blushed and turned your head away, wringing your hands shyly in your lap.

“But... there are other people here,”  he faked a small pout. “It’s embarrassing…” suddenly, he leaned over the table and planted a firm, long kiss on your lips. Your heart rate rocketed as your face grew an even deeper shade of crimson. You couldn’t deny him the kiss, however; your body just wouldn’t move when he was pressing his soft lips against yours. He returned to his seat with a silly smirk as he offered you the bite of waffle for a second time. “POL?! What was that for?!” You hid your face in your hands as he chuckled.

“Well, now you’re already embarrassed. So a little more embarrassment won’t hurt, right?” Your boyfriend was trying so hard to be smooth, but you couldn’t help but notice a faint blush painted on his cheeks. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re shy and blushy. I just wanna show you how much I love you…” you giggled bashfully at his words before slowly leaning over (hoping to god that none of the other patrons were looking your way) and biting the crispy piece of waffle off the end. It was delicious, of course, and you hummed in approval. It was going to be a great day.

You could barely keep up with him as he ran around the park. Your first stop was to buy a set of Mickey Mouse ears for you and him, or at least for you when you realised the hat wouldn’t fit over his hair.

You tried to flatten the stiff silver strands to get the cap on his head.

“Stop!!!” He whined. “Don’t touch my hair, that’s what gets the ladies going…” he self consciously straightened his hair back into its signature tower as you giggled, raising

up on your tip toes and placing a shy kiss on his cheek.

“Why do you need ladies when you have me?” He grinned as he wrapped you in a strong hug, nearly lifting you off the ground as he chuckled into your neck.

“Well I gotta keep you don’t I?” You nuzzled into his warm embrace as you sighed.

“With or without your silly hair, I’ll love you regardless.” He held you tight for several more seconds before setting you back on the ground, ready visit the first attraction.

“Wait,” he paused, “Did you just call it silly?!”

You went on several rides (Winnie the Pooh seemed to be his favorite for some reason) before taking a break to grab some ice cream. Your boyfriend insisted you both get a large waffle cone of nutella flavor and your own favorite flavor to share.

You sat down on a bench as you talked and ate, his arm resting around your shoulder despite the early autumn heat. But, when you were almost finished, you noticed a shop across the way. Through the crowds of small children, you saw the strange contraption.

“Babe, you can have the rest, I’m gonna go check that out!” He called after you, but you couldn’t make out his words as you ran towards the colourful emporium. Amazement overcame you as you stepped into the cool air conditioned shop. Stuffed animals and plush figures lined the walls, children played with Disney themed doll sets at several small stations spread out across the room. But something had caught your eye near the back of the room, in a small corner. You skipped over to the machine, pressing your face to the glass in excitement as you admired the assortment of plushies: there were teddy bears, bunnies, chicks, puppies and kittens, all so soft and cuddly looking, each one with the Disney logo embroidered onto their paw. They looked so fuzzy and warm! It reminded you of the stuffed animals you’d had as a child. You needed one! You eagerly looked over the instructions on the machine, taking two quarters out of your purse to play. As soon as you slipped the coins in, music began to play and the crank whirred to life. You tested it out for a moment, using the joystick to guide it around above the pit of prizes. You squinted, focusing as hard as you could as you positioned it right above a small stuffed rabbit. And then, you held your breath. The claw began its descent as soon as you clicked the button.

“What’s this, mon amour?” You felt Jean-Pierre’s hands circling around you from behind, and you nuzzled into the warmth of his back though your eyes never left the machine.

“They’re cute, okay…” you blushed a bit embarrassed as the claw finally wrapped around the bunny.

Wait, no!

The claw loosely wrapped around the bunny’s head, tugging to no avail as the stuffed animal became lodged underneath the teddy bear next to it and slipped out of its grasp.

Come on!

You pouted as the empty robotic hand swung over to the area it would drop the prize if you had actually gotten it, sighing as the claw released its grip.

“I’m gonna try again,”

“Aww, but mon ange,” Your boyfriend squeezed you tighter as you rifled for your wallet “You know these games are impossible to win. If you want I can buy you one of the other—” you tilted your head to look at him at disappointedly, and he immediately recognised your unwavering intentions. “Here,” he pulled another 50 cents out of his pocket and smiled sweetly, your heart racing at the sight of those cute dimples. “One more try,” you jumped up and down in excitement as he slipped the coins into the machine, which once again stuttered back to life as lights flashed and you readied yourself at the joystick. Jean leaned over your shoulder as you aimed for another toy, a little teddy bear sitting on the top of the pile, there was no way you could lose this one. Slowly, the claw descended, its metal arms opening as you held your breath. It closed around the head of the bear and gently pulled it upwards.

Yes!

The claw tugged the stuffed animal out of pile, lifting it at least a foot above the pit of plushies, before…

It shifted to deposit your prize in the box, swinging the claw in a and causing the bear to abruptly slip out to its grasp.

Dammit!

You frowned as the empty robotic arm once again dropped a nonexistent prize into the spot.

“Aww,”

“Merde!” he cursed as he hit the machine. Despite your disappointment, you giggled.

“Calm down, sweetie.” You sighed “I guess I can live without—”

You suddenly squeaked as you felt hands grabbing your weight, his impressively strong arms lifting you up and placing you to the side as he stepped towards the machine. He was brimming with confidence as he slid the quarters into the machine. You smiled at his determination.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to try and win one for me.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, his eyes barely straying from the task at hand as the machine hummed to life.

“Nonsense, you deserve a prize for how good you are to me, mon petit-chou,” he grabbed the joystick “and I’m not letting this stupid game get in my way.” You let him concentrate as he guided the claw towards a small stuffed dog. He shifted the joystick back and forth, making sure it was perfectly aligned, his brow furrowing as stared at the machine intently. It was so cute how hard he tried as he finally pushed the button, holding his breath as if even the slightest move might damage his chances.

Slowly, the claw lowered, as it had done many times before, the metal prongs extending as your took a step closer to gauge whether this might actually work. It’s grip closed around the head of the small fuzzy dog, lifting it upward out of the pile as you heard your boyfriend whisper.

“Come on, come on…”

When it had reached the top, the mechanism lurched to the side. This was what had caused that last teddy bear to tumble back into the pile of toys, and your heart sank as the claw’s grasp began to slip. It was a foot away from the collection slot when the head started shifting.

“Just a little more,” It was your own whisper this time, when suddenly the the stuffed animal lurched downwards, nearly giving you for a heart attack for a second, before the claw caught on its ear and slowly made its way to the corner of the machine. It was right on the edge when the dog finally slid from its grasp.

“No, nooo!” Your boyfriend wildly gestured at the machine as the stuffed toy hit the lip of the slot.

But then, against all odds, it flipped against the plastic edge leading to the prize slot, bouncing against the walls as it tumbled down into the compartment. You squealed in delight.

“Babe, you actually did it!” Your boyfriend rubbed his neck bashfully as you kneeled down to excitedly retrieve the small puppy from the machine. It was just as soft as it had looked in the inside, and you hugged it to your chest as you looked up at your loving boyfriend. He smiled at your enthusiasm.

“Of course I did, I wasn’t gonna let a stupid machine beat me.” You stood up as you inspected the prize he had won for you. A small black and white dog with perky ears and a sort of smushed in face, You were trying to guess the breed; it looked familiar with that tiny stubby tail and little pouty mouth under its big black nose. You hugged it and smiled nonetheless.

“What should I call him?” You pondered several ideas, but before you could decide, Jean-Pierre grinned proudly.

“His name is Iggy. He’s a good boy, he’ll make sure to protect you when I’m not around.” You giggled.

“Protect me from what? Too much homework? Bad hair days?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug, you still holding Iggy the stuffed dog between your chests.

“Maybe not bad hair days, but certainly everything else!” He pulled you into a soft kiss, and this time, you honestly didn’t mind that people could see you. This was Jean-Pierre Polnareff, the handsome Frenchman, that silly, sweet, arrogant, determined idiot that you had grown to love so much over the months. And he was yours, and you were his. You kissed him gently as his large, calloused hands gripped your soft hips tightly. You were thrilled to spend the next week together. And maybe even the rest of your life.

(fun fact my mom used to have a Mickey Mouse waffle maker and we ate them every morning for Sunday breakfast when i was a smol child)

[gutterballgt]

@susan-25 said (for the drabbles prompt): Love me love me love me!!!!!

Leave a “Love Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a fluffy drabble about two (or more) characters.

Your wish... is my command! I mean... in my day, drabbles were 100 words, no more and no less. But screw that. We want fluff, dammit!

When the (possibly radioactive) dust settled and everyone finally got out of medical -- well, not Stacker; the brush with a nuke had a weird effect on the cancer already brewing, and the doctors couldn't figure out if it had helped or hurt -- Chuck found himself at loose ends for the first time in his life. Well, for the first time in memory, anyway.

Just... he'd always had The Next Thing to do. The next repair on Striker. The next kaiju alarm. The next fight with his old man. The next game of catch with Max. The next food fight to start with the Weis.

Not that the Weis were up for a food fight these days. They were all out of medical, but there was oh, so much physical therapy to be done before the wankers had that much mobility.

Anyway, Chuck Hansen was a doer, not a sit-and-think-about-things-er. If he was honest -- and he was trying to be now that there was nothing but time to regret the ignorant shite he tended to spout in anger -- he was... bored.

And more than a little scared.

What the hell did people... just... do? For the rest of their lives?

Oddly enough, on his worst possible day, just when he'd given up trying to soul-search and decided to punch the big bag until all the sand fell out, Raleigh Has-Been Becket showed up. With a vengeance.

Suddenly, there weren't enough hours in the day. Chuck had a sneaking suspicion it all started with a prompt from Herc, but it wasn't long -- a week; a month, tops -- before Chuck didn't care. He was having too much fun.

They hit the mainland almost every day for take-out or to watch new buildings go up on the bones of the old or, once, to take one of the junks out to the islands for an honest-to-fuck picnic. The silly bloke said it was up to their teamwork that the traditional boats were out again for the first time in a decade, so they ought to be one of the first to enjoy them. With that rationale, Chuck was hard-pressed to argue and found himself, for the first time in his life, kicking back with a gentle breeze in his face, lulled by the subtle rocking of the junk, idly watching their particular island draw closer with no urgency to get to The Next Thing.

Admittedly, The Next Thing this time was a frankly embarrassing array of foods that Raleigh had insisted on cramming into a massive picnic basket he'd haggled off a street vendor. It's nostalgia, Chuck, the silly sod insisted. It's not a picnic without a basket.

Again, Chuck had been hard-pressed to argue. He was having too damn much fun.

It had been a damn long time since "fun" was in his vocabulary.

And then, there were movie nights. Sometimes just the two of them, sometimes everyone still mobile. Sometimes with pizza or Chinese food, sometimes just with popcorn and beer. Sometimes comedies, sometimes action flicks, and just the once... a romance.

He couldn't remember what it was called, but Raleigh said it was based on an old book, it was long as hell but seemed to go ridiculously fast, and Mako (and, weirdly, Herc) fucking loved it. Chuck had to admit that the oppressive atmosphere while the naive young governess discovered that the evil in the attic wasn't anything supernatural but just her cranky boss' addled wife was impressive. And he pretended not to see Herc wipe his eyes during the governess' flashbacks of her brief love affair with the cranky boss.

In fact, he rather understood. The poor sheila just wanted, for once, to be seen as an equal. To not be a drudge or a colorless creature to be pitied or ignored or looked down on. Of course her memories of the one person who treated her like a human being would be full of pain and longing.

Dammit.

Because there was a downside to all the fun and running about. Raleigh, that giant wanker of a has-been, would probably never know, but Chuck had come to... depend on it. Like it. Love it, even.

And at any moment, it could just... stop.

He didn't want it to stop.

"C'mon, Chuck." A foot nudged him under the rather sticky table. "You've been brooding all day. Out with it."

They were at some rank-looking hole-in-the-wall, eating mouth-watering Indian food that would taste like heaven if Chuck could manage to eat a bite. He'd never know how Raleigh kept finding these places, but he wasn't exactly complaining.

This time, though....

Sighing, he shrugged with an elbow on the table and his cheek leaning on his fist, toying his fork through his butter chicken sauce.

"Chuck. Seriously. Do you not like the naan or something?"

Another shrug. He couldn't stop thinking about how echoey and heart-wrenching the poor girl's sobs were as she fully remembered all she had left behind, all she felt she couldn't have.

He could relate to that last bit.

"Hey, c'mon. You're starting to worry me. There's still food on the table."

That got at least one side of his mouth to twitch in a half-ass grin, and he put down his fork to sit up a bit straighter. "Dread days, indeed."

But Raleigh finally cracked a smile, which never failed to lift Chuck's spirits.

Dammit.

"So lay it out for me. What's going on in that complicated head of yours?"

Nope. Not for all the Indian food in Hong Kong.

"Chuck."

Never.

"Chuuuuuuuuuuck."

Goddammit, Raleigh.

"Chuck chuck chuck chuck chuck chuck chuck ch--"

"Do you think you could ever love me?"

What. The. Fuck.

Appalled at himself, he slapped both palms on the table, sitting stick straight in the creaky chair, eyes wide and jaw clenched tight, ready to leave at the first hint of a punch. Raleigh stared at him, those crazy blue eyes at least as wide as his own. For a breathless eternity, neither of them dared to breathe.

Then... Raleigh sighed.

Oh, fuck. Oh shit oh fuck.

"Got some bad news for you, kid."

Oh, fuck, Raleigh was straight, or the gorgeous wanker remembered all too well how big an asshole Chuck had been at first, or... fuck, Chuck was just plain unloveable.

Why the fuck did he say anything? He should've just--

"It's too late."

--kept his big, stupid, impulsive mouth shu--

...what?

He blinked, then focused on the menace to his sanity that had become such a huge part of his every day. The menace who was currently smiling softly, those blue eyes warm and soft.

"I already love you, ya big jerk." A snort. "I mean, I thought that was obvious. I found us a picnic basket, Chuck." A nudge under the table. "In Hong Kong."

Oddly appalled, he pointed accusingly at the wanker. "You fucking ratbag! Why the fuck didn't you say anything?"

Blue eyes rolled, and the irritating bloke lightly kicked him under the table. "Yes, because you're so warm and cuddly and welcoming, Chuck."

He opened his mouth to protest.

"Outside of naptime."

He closed his mouth, then shrugged. "That's fair."

He wouldn't trade naptime-in-a-pile for anything in the world. Max would never forgive him for the sudden lack of cuddles from two of his three favorite people.

But he couldn't hold the grin back anymore. "So... you really love me?"

Unfortunately, though the smile remained, the bloke suddenly looked a bit... fidgety. "Mm-hm."

Frowning, he leaned forward over his plate, which suddenly smelled almost irresistible, though he'd never been further from eating in his life. "Oi, Raleigh... mate, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Okay, that was definitely not Raleigh's warm, bright smile. "My tandoori chicken's a little dry, is all."

And that was patently untrue. The chicken was juicy and fucking delightful. Raleigh had offered him a piece earlier and -- oh, shit.

Here, Raleigh had been making all the gestures and had just said--

"I love a man who can't lie for shit."

Oh. Well. Not how he'd meant to say it, but dammit, he couldn't leave the bloke hanging like that. Chuck really wasn't the most approachable guy on the best of days, but Raleigh had told him he loved him anyway, and Chuck hadn't reciprocated, and dammit, that was just fucking rude.

Chuck Hansen had always been and would always be a jerk, but damn if he'd be rude to the man he loved.

Plus, the stupid blurt was worth it for the slight perking up hidden behind narrowing eyes on the silly bloke's face. "I'm not sure if I should be offended or not."

Blushing a bit, he shrugged and prodded his chicken with his fork. "Offended because I love you or offended because you can't lie for shit?"

Aaaannnnd there was the bright, happy, doofus grin he'd fight another kaiju just to see. "Offended because you can't tell me you love me without an insult for good measure."

Jesus, the butter chicken was fucking fantastic. And because he wasn't a goddamn grunt, he chewed fully and swallowed before responding.

"But you love me anyway."

It wasn't a question. He absolutely was not holding his breath whilst waiting for an answer.

Thankfully, Raleigh was a good bloke and didn't leave him in agony. "Yeah, yeah. I'm a glutton for punishment."

Relieved but hiding it, he pointed with his fork. "And that, mate, explains your whole goddamn life."

Snickering, the silly sod shook his head. "Can't even argue." The pretty wanker took a slow, savoring bite of his tandoori chicken. Then: "So... are we both okay with this?"

As if it was even a question. "More than."

"So we can start making out in the evening?"

He did not waggle his eyebrows. He didn't. He just... had an itch on his forehead and his hands were full. "Why wait for evening?"

Luckily, the bloke didn't take him up on the half-assed offer but just shook his head. "I really am a glutton for punishment." But the smile came back, slow and warm and fond. "Guess I picked the right guy to fall for."

This time, he actually managed to not waggle his eyebrows, though he nearly got butter sauce on his shirt as he leaned over the table again. "I'll punish you all you want, love."

One eyebrow rose, and Chuck blushed and sat back in his seat.

"Sounded better in my head."

The wanker nudged his foot under the table again. "I didn't say I wasn't into it."

A chunk of chicken sucked back into his throat, and he choked, eyes watering and fist thumping himself on the chest. Raleigh, that rotten sod, just grinned and watched, unconcerned.

Weak, he swigged water, gasping between gulps. "You'll be the death of me, ya wanker."

"Oh, no." That smile was positively evil. "I'm not done with you yet."

He blinked, then practically inhaled the rest of his excellent meal, then hurried through Raleigh's leftovers, too. He had better things to do than eat. In public. With clothes on.

And maybe, if he was lucky, after he got lucky, they'd watch that movie again. He doubted he'd puddle up at the sad part this time.

He might, though, when that final family portrait was being painted of the governess and her cranky boss husband and their huge, happy family.

Yeah, he might cry a bit, then.

He couldn't wait.

THE END