i meant nellie or is it nelly when that expression is used

Good Humor - 4


a/n: shout out to @frecklefaceb@beautifulramblingbrains@metalmox736@liveandbreathgeek@felywrites@notjaicourtney

Im always like what should i put warnings for? like there is a 100% chance that something i write includes something inappropriate 

Captain Boomerang X OFC // Suicide Squad

Word count: 2,700 even

4. Slumber Party

Waking up everything hurt.

The worst was my foot. I could feel the dull throbbing as I laid there was my eyes closed. It matched the throbbing in my head. I groaned, clamping my hands over my eyelids as I rolled over in the bed, the sheeting pulling tight around me. I hissed as the cloth brushed against my toes, my eyes shooting open from the pain. I found myself face to face with her royal highness, Queen Snugglepuss.

“Oh gross,” I mumbled, pulling my face back. I sat up and looked around realizing I was curled up in bed sheets and not on the couch. Had I really slept here? Did he sleep here? Peeking under the sheets I found I was still wearing my underwear …and a vomit stained t-shirt.

“Oh groooss,” I reiterated to myself as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting up right. I held the front of the shirt out at arm’s length as I gently stood up, hobbling to the bathroom. Once I had the door closed I pulled the cotton shirt over my head and tossed it to the side.

Keep reading


She was studying.  She was.  She had promised Josephine that she would read the book about Orlesian nobility before their… guests… got to the Keep, and she never backed out of a promise.

Usually not ever. 

Well, not often.

But she hadn’t backed out of this promise.  She was reading it.  If by reading she meant being sprawled sideways in the chair in Dorian’s tower nook with the book pages down on her stomach and her head leaning into the corner of the chair’s back while her eyes studied the inside of her eyelids.

It wasn’t really her fault though.  The book was boring, and boring made her sleepy.

She could hear Dorian moving around her, and the thump of books while he re-cataloged something for probably the thousandth time.

She wondered if she could get him to read about the nobility for her, then just sum it up.  He loved things like that.

Just as she was contemplating getting up the energy to open her eyes his voice floated over to her, amusement lacing his words.  “I have a question for you, Nellie, if you could bring yourself to grace the waking world with your presence.”

She wrinkled her nose at the name and cracked a lid to peer at him with one eye.  “One day I’m going to start calling you Dori, and you’re going to hate it.”

He shot her a grin and came over to lean against the shelf closest to her.  “The day that happens is the day you stop coming up here to hijack my chair.”

She humphed and burrowed more deeply into the chair.  “It’s comfortable, and you would never kick me out.  You love my company too much.”

When he simply raised a brow in reply she opened her other eye and smiled at him.  “You had a question for your illustrious leader?”

“I don’t know if illustrious could be used for someone who naps in corners like a cat, but that is neither here nor there.  I was curious.  You seem to have recently developed a liking for… strapping young Templars.”


He laughed at the question.  “Hardly.  I actually find it quite adorable.  What I was wondering was what exactly you saw in him.  He seems very stoic for, well, you.”

She continued to smile as she pushed herself into more of a sitting position.  “It’s very simple, and believe me when I tell you this is the truth.  That man has, and I use this phrase in all seriousness, the perfect butt.”

She lifted her hands as she said it, making some vague motion that seemed to encapsulate grabbing the object of her statement.  Dorian blinked once then let out a sharp laugh of approval.  “Really?  Who could tell through all that armor and fluff?”

“You can’t, which is probably a good thing.  It might cause a national crisis otherwise.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.  I mean, perfect?  How many have you seen to compare?”

“Well, if you are willing to show me yours so I can make a comparison list I will be happy to do so.”

“Please don’t."  The new voice drew both their attentions, and revealed itself to belong to Solas, his face carefully neutral as he joined them in the sun drenched alcove.  "At least not while I’m here.”

Dorian smirked at him and turned to pull a book from the shelf he was propped against.  “You probably couldn’t handle it anyway.  It would be disastrous for you both, seeing the glory of true perfection and never being able to obtain it.”

Solas rolled his eyes even as he turned to the inquisitor.  “Tirnel, I thought you might have been having trouble keeping attention with your current reading objective so I brought something to distract you."  He held out an old scroll, and her smile widened as she took it and recognized the elvish script.

Oh yes, this was much better.  Solas always found interesting things about their people for her to learn.  "Ma serannas.”

His expression was friendly enough, but she could see the calculation that so often lurked behind the easy facade and prepared herself for the inevitable question that was going to follow.  “I do have a question, lethallan.  You are constantly telling me how the people need help and guidance, and you have stated on more than one occasion that you hoped that they might one day reclaim their glory.  Where does a human lover factor into that?”

She scowled a bit at the question, noting that Dorian had seemed to take great interest in how she might answer.  Her feelings for Cullen were… complicated, and too new to be banded about to anyone other than who they were directed at.  Not to mention that it was, frankly, none of their business.

She settled for working the scowl away and brandishing the hand not holding the scroll in a dismissive wave.  “I may very well die trying to close that breach.  I don’t think anyone can blame me for enjoying someone who can pick me up like I weigh no more than this scroll.”

“And if you do survive?”

She huffed out a breath and straightened in the chair, catching the book at the last moment as it tumbled into her lap.  “I can still work for improving my people’s lot without making dozens of Elven babies.  Someone else can have that job.”

They stared at each other a moment before Solas gave a thoughtful nod.  “I see what you mean.  I was simply curious.”

He stepped backwards and offered a slight bow before turning away, his words winging back at her from over his shoulder.  “Come and see me when you finish reading that.  I’m sure you will have questions.”

Dorian and she sat in silence a moment before his soft laughter broke through the quiet air.  “Ooo, I see.  Our Nellie is feeling a bit more than just lust after a delicious posterior.”

“Shut up, Dorian.”

“That really is adorable.”

She threw the book at him, drawing a laugh from herself as he stumbled to move out of its path.  “So, do I get to see yours now?”

He chuckled even as he leaned over to pick up the abused volume.  “Would your lion come after me for letting you?”

She looked towards the ceiling, a finger coming up to tap at her chin.  “Maybe.  It would be interesting to find out.”

“Hmm, perhaps later than.”