Till is used to his stuff getting stolen every once in a while but it's been up to an abnormal extreme lately. When he goes to confront his number one suspect Ivan, who hasn't been around much, he finds a massive nest comprised of all his lost belongings along with a soppng wet Ivan in heat Till's secondary gender is up to you!!
This prompt has been filled! You can read it on AO3
Hey!~ How about number 9 with MAS for the kiss prompt? I told you just ask and I will send prompts! XD
((send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss))
yaaaaahhh it’s the Chinese lantern festival today!!! have some Romance, which is apparently good labor, aggressively un-romantic biological manifestations, and the dissolution of class boundaries in Ancient China
MAS, rated G
#9, in Public
Sabo snagged a sprigof spring onion from the planter box outside the window on his wayout.
“Young Master—”
The fig tree outsideSabo’s room has only ever grown wider, and it took only twovaulting steps for Sabo to reach the secondary trunk made of aerialprop roots. Well-worn footholds held as he shimmied up, crossed thetiled roof of the courtyard wall, and was gone.
He’d timed it, ofcourse, so that by the time he reached the village at the foot of themountain dusk would’ve taken over. The night was cold, amid-afternoon heatwave drawing in the cold front with a blanket ofseaside fog. The water vapor diffused all the golden lantern lightlining the streets, and Sabo with a scarf barely draped over hisdistinctive scar could hum and walk boldly through.
Ace’s stall was,of course, completely packed. Mothers and fathers and grandparentsand toddlers and teenagers. His was just one of maybe ten waxsalespeople, but everybody knew Fire Fist Ace’s name and that hiswares were the best: what he sold burned hot but steady, with noimpurities that could suddenly crackle and make a child cry, no cheapfiller that left a lantern too weighted and cold to fly.
“—the smallsize? But da-ge, I got the sixteen here are yousure you need— aiya okayokay, let me unpack it—”
Saboslipped out like a shadow from the crowd, reachedinto Ace’s wagon parked behind his stall, and hauled out theappropriate crate. It wasalready fairly light, meaning Ace was well on his way to selling outdespite the time being so early in the evening. Justas he set it on the ground and priedopen the lid, he felt Ace’s knees gently bump into his back ingreeting.
“Hey,look who snuck out.” As ifSabo could resist the beckon of that warm tone. He peaked frombehind the scarf, and asalways, Ace looked deliciouslygolden in firelight, all tanskin and wide smiles. “Isthe YoungMaster here to romance somebody tonight?”
Liftinga whole plate of the small wax dishes, Sabo held it up above his headfor Ace to take.
“Why?Is there occasion to romance?” he replied ironically with a grin ofhis own. Ace took the plateand bent down to smack a kiss to the top of Sabo’s head.
“There’snot even occasion to piss,” Ace complained. They parted—Ace forthe stall front and Sabo to fetch another rapidly depleting stock ofwax dishes—then reconvened again, like willow branches swimmingthrough the wind. “I swearto Heaven I’ll burst by the end of the night.”
“That’snice,” Sabo said loudly. “Gopee, what the hell.”
“Yeahbut the outhouse is outthere—”
“Andwe can cover you in here,” came a deep and familiar voice behindSabo. Sabo didn’t even turnaround, just walked forward shoulder-checking Ace until Acerelinquished his position atthe front of the stall. Ace’s mouth was open, but any protest diedaway when Marco—the muchmore publicly beloved Young Master withthe blue robes and goldenembroidery, the lazy smile anda doctor’s bedside manners—immediately started handling thesales.
“Yeah,we’re here,” Sabo said,quieter now that they had their own little pocket of shadow to workwith. “Take a break. Bringsome drinks back.”
“Mmh.”Keeping eye contact with Sabo, Ace slowlyreached his hand into the fold of Sabo’s shirt. Hispatting motions weren’t suggestive, but they certainly weren’t…collegial, either.Sabo let him, fighting hard not to smirk when Ace’s fingers clampedaround his coin purse and tugged it out.
Alongwith the springonion.
Aceburst out laughing when he saw it, andlooked over Sabo’s shoulder.
“Yo,Marco! Is the Newgate Houseready for a marriage tonight?”
Thespring onion went flying through the air like this was a farmer’sstall, and Marco, in the middle of taking an order from a young girlaround five years old, straightened to catch it. Saboshould’ve snagged his coin purse back from Ace at that point, butinstead, he caught a glimpseof something in Ace’s sleeve and reached—
Itwas a fistful of watercress, roots still muddy by the looks of it,which meant Ace probably did actually steal it, per tradition. Sabosnickered, “oh you’re a romantic,”as Ace tried to snatch it back.
Thewatercress ended up being thrown at Marco too, who shotthem both a flat look for, presumably,not only leaving him with all the busy work, but also flingingvegetables at his head.
“Howabout two?” Sabo said to Marco, now involved in a minor wrestlingmatch with Ace as he tried to prevent Ace from leaving for theouthouse. The bastard could pee in his pants for all Sabo cared; it’swhat he deserved. “It’snot like your father can’tafford you two spouses,right? Wanta harem, Young Master?”
“Please,”Marco muttered, tossing both the watercress and spring onion back atthem with a grimace, “stop giving them ideas.”
Themwas the three, now four olderwomen crowding at the front of the stall, allof I have a lovely daughterage. Their attentions weren’ton the display of wax dishes for use inside the floating lanternstonight, but on the shinyclothes of the shiny, richnobleman behind it whoapparently wanted a harem.
Acecaught the onion and Sabo the watercress. They exchanged a lookbefore approachingMarco in twin determined steps. On either side of him they paused.Each placed a hand on Marco’s shoulder.
Agust of wind swept in,momentarily diminishing all of the flames lighting Ace’s stall.Frosty fog pecked at all their cheeks.
Aceand Sabo, too, both leaned in andeach pressed a kiss to Marco’s face.
Theflames steadied, and lit thestall in full gold again. All three of them were grinning and lookingahead (except perhaps Marco’ssmile was tinged ever so lightly with pleased embarrassment).The green onion andwatercress were bundled andtucked into the front of his robes.
Theolder women all saw this, and shuffleddisappointedly back into line for their lantern fires.
“See,”Ace laughed quietly, “we take care of you too.”
“Willyou hurry up,” Sabo sighed in exasperation, wrapping up an order offour for a gentleman in the back, “and go empty your bladderalready?”
AsAce finally wentscrambling off, Sabo andMarco worked side by side for a while, no words exchanged between thetwo of them. As Saboreached behind Marco’s head to cut some candles from a hangingbundle though, he felt Marco suddenly turn. Fingers on his wrist.
Lipson his knuckles. Idiotprobably thought he was so smooth or something, stealing so small akiss, in such an innocuousplace, before turning back around again. Toobad he hadn’t met Sabo’s eyes, or he would’ve seen Sabo’sutterly unimpressed expression.
(Ormaybe he would’ve seen Sabo’s utterlyincriminating blush, but since Marco didn’t look, that was a mootpoint.)
//
Marco’scharacters were better than Sabo’s, much less Ace’s. He’sthe one designated to calligraphy duty then, when all the wax disheshad sold and Ace officially closed down the stall. The night wasstill young, and beautifulbubbles of paper-dressed flames went gliding into the far skies abovethem. Their own lantern stoodbefore Marco’s brush.
“Whatare you writing then?” Ace asked, securing away the last of hisempty crates. He’d made apretty penny tonight, and glowed with the pleasure of a day’s hardwork done. Sabo leaned around Marco to ask for another kiss. Got it.
“Mushyshit,” Sabo answered.
“Marriageproposals,” Marco snickered.
“Mushyshit,” Sabo said again, this time sighing in a long-beleagueredway. “Why is he like this?”
“Youtwo brought the vegetables,”Marco pointed out, gesturing at the bundleof green on the table besidehim. Sabo picked up thewatercress, and took a bite.
“Okay,”he said, chewing deliberately loudly, “so now we’re marriedright?”
“Oh.And you didn’t even wash that.”
“Areyou calling your fiances dirty? Here Ace, have a—”
Pickingup the spring onion, Ace too took a bite. The moment he did, Sabo andMarco exchanged looks.
“I—What?”
“Ohno,” Sabo mourned, as the strong scent of green onion scatteredthrough the air. Ducking a grin, Marco went back to his preciselettering. “I can’t believe nobody’s going to kiss Ace on ourwedding night.”
“What!”Ace squawked in indignation. “What do you— It’s not thatbad—”
“Ican smell it from here Ace,” Marco murmured, finishing the lastcharacter of the couplet with flourish. Strong and full ofvitality, Sabo’s calligraphy teacher might’ve said aboutMarco’s characters. “Green onion breath… Well it’s hardlyromantic, is it?”
Blinkingonce at them both, Ace scowled, then crammed the entire spring onioninto his mouth, chewing with vicious abandon. Sabo straightened andimmediately began to back away. Marco wasn’t so lucky; Ace had sunka hand into his arm, keeping him within reach.
“Comehere then,” Ace said, breathing heavily until Marco’s nosewrinkled with the overwhelming scent. “Give us a kiss now and I’llshow you romance…”
luka gets waaaay in over his head and hyuna fucks him senseless for it. noncon/dubcon/hatesex preferred but optional. hyuna can have a dick or a strap-on doesnt matter
This prompt has received a fic fill! Read it on dreamwidth or AO3
So I was supposed to post this on Thursday and then Leverage: Redemption happened and I completely forgot. So here is a belated roundup of the fics posted during the first week of the bingo!
- Mod Gav
We've had a great first week of the Leverage Summer Flash Bingo! Our wonderful participants created five works. Check them out below!
Title: Burning Love
Author: theleakypen
Square filled: Card 01, No Air Conditioning
Rating: Teen
Major Tags: Post-Canon; Established Relationship; Stakeout; Hot Weather; No air conditioning; Banter; Fluff; Short & Sweet
Summary: "Seriously, this is ridiculous," he complained. "It's a hundred ten degrees out here, a hundred ten! Y'all promised me I wouldn't have to deal with weather like this anymore." Hardison and Eliot are stuck casing a mark's place in a shitty car with no AC. It's a good thing they like each other.
Word count: 521
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32186431
Title: Look to the Stars
Author: ziazippy
Square filled: Card 02, Stargazing
Rating: Gen
Major Tags: Fluff
Pairing(s): Hardison/Parker
Summary: Parker has a late-night surprise for Hardison
Word count: 525
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32308021
Title: E's Family Food Corner
Author: MewCoyote
Square filled: Card 04, Strawberry
Rating: Gen
Major Tags: Food Blog, Recipes, Slice of Life, Fluff
Pairing(s): None (OT3 implied)
Summary: Eliot runs a food blog.
Word count: 858
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32312320
Title: Two Steps to the Left
Author: MewCoyote
Square filled: Card 04, Fireworks
Rating: Gen
Major Tags: Fluff
Pairing(s): Hardison/Eliot/Parker
Summary: Hardison wants to see the fireworks. His partners don't like the noise.
Word count: 513
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32361550
Title: A Tropical Hideaway
Author: ziazippy
Square filled: Card 02, Vacation
Rating: Gen
Major Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Death (the major character death is before the fic and offscreen but it is the center of the fic)
Pairing(s): Past Nathan Ford/Sophie Devereaux, Sophie Devereaux & Tara Cole
Summary: Tara finds her friend who is hiding after a tragedy.
OK I blame the casting of characters on you, I would’ve gone with the obvious Elsa!Len :D also sorry I could only think of post-movie!Frozen XD
The door to the old barn creaks like a murder of extremely annoyed crows when it moves. That’s why Len chose this particular place; he doesn’t like surprises.
His life must not have gotten that memo, though, because it brings him a surprise in the form of one lanky, bashful King.
“Where did you go?” Barry asks – somewhat redundantly, in Len’s opinion, considering they’re exactly where Len went.
“Somewhere I didn’t want to be found,” Len says pointedly, and Barry doesn’t even look sorry. He just marches right over to Len and plops his velvet-clad ass onto the warm, itchy hay.
Barry turns those ridiculously bright eyes to him with an innocent shrug. “Why?”
Len dodges the question as best he can.
“Shouldn’t you be celebrating your Thawing Day?”
“Iris is there,” Barry shrugs, and Len flashes him an incredulous eyebrow-twitch.
“But you’re the King.”
“Yeah… I guess you’re right,” Barry mutters, then grins at Len in a way that makes Len think of all the good things in life. He doesn’t like that feeling – it’s all too easy to forget that there are bad things, too.
“You guess?” Len snorts. “You mean you’re not sure if you’re the King? That’s a sad day for Arendelle, indeed.”
“No. I meant I might need someone to escort me back to the castle, you know… since I’m so important and all that,” Barry snickers.
Len pulls his hand away from where it’s brushing hay off Barry’s silky white cloak. Why does he seem to be incapable of subconsciously reaching for this damn kid all the time? This kid, who is also his King.
“And you think a thief is the best one to choose for this duty?” he says, wisely omitting the fact that Barry wouldn’t need to be escorted anywhere if he didn’t chase Len down and stayed put in his stupid huge castle.
“Hmm. Maybe not,” Barry agrees. Len’s stomach twists, which is stupid, because Barry leaving is exactly what he’s aiming for here. “But I think a knight would do?”
Len’s eyes snap up to Barry’s face – he expects the kid to laugh, but he looks completely serious, just holding Len’s gaze and waiting him out, like it’s Len who needs to think things through. Like it’s Len throwing around ridiculous half-formed offers.
“I’m a thief,” he points out again. Mick snorts behind him; Len absently reaches to his pocket for another carrot and hands it to the annoying reindeer.
“You could be more than that. I see the good in you… no matter how hard you try to hide it.”
Len screws his eyes shut; this was why he left in the first place, this horrible brat who thinks he sees into people’s souls, who almost iced the whole kingdom forever, who needed saving just a day ago. And now, he’s the one offering salvation and Len knows he should say something snide and walk away, but he thinks of a life he could have, and he thinks of how Lisa would be proud of him (and his father wouldn’t), and he finds himself looking up at Barry again with a slight nod.
“Alright. Just to be clear… Mick’s gonna expect royal servings of carrot every day.”
Barry laughs, picks himself up from the hay and offers Len a hand.
wedding cake (food), John/Sherlock (pairing) and waddling
"This lemon cake is refreshing, certainly, but champagne icing? Surely we're serving champagne with the cake anyway?"
John leaned back in his chair, trying to suck in his belly as his Sherlock--still strange to think of him as his husband to be, his fiance-- prattled on about the ninth piece of cake they'd sampled.
"No, no, I don't think any of these will do." Sherlock heaved himself forward, moaning a bit as the contents of his belly shifted with the pressure. He got to his feet, and John blushed to see him this way, plump middle pushing against his clothes, flesh peaking out from between the buttons. "Come along, John.""Sherlock, we've tried all their cakes, we have to at least--"
"Pay for unsatisfactory cake? I think not." Sherlock drew himself up to his full height and stormed away, his exit only somewhat diminished by the swaying of his protruding belly and plump buttocks as he waddled away.
John sighed, rubbing his own too full middle, and tipped the caterer a twenty quid note on his way out.
"One Chicken Garlic Pineapple, as you requested." Sebastian huffed down, settling on the sofa. Mycroft sat up with a grunt, edging to the edge of the sofa, large belly pushing out over his spread thighs. Sebastian reached out, idly rubbing the side of his belly as Mycroft started to eat. They were quiet until he'd gotten down three slices, and then he leaned back, eating at a more sedate pace.
"This is your fault, you know," he said softly. "I've never wanted this as much as I have the last few months."
Sebastian rolled his shoulder, pinching the layer of creamy fat that covered the man's baby belly. "So I'll buy you a pizza every day. So what?"
