i want a fire engine!

aredblush  asked:

For the 3-sentences-fic thingie: erica/boyd, PropertyBrothers!AU :P

this… is nothing at all like what you requested but i had fun with it? thank you for the prompt nas! *smooches*

“I want floor-to-ceiling windows in the kitchen.”

It was a game she played.

“I want a chandelier in the dining room.”

It had started out innocent enough.

“I want the living room wired for surround sound.”

It was a quiet, hesitant request, because she’d worked hard and now she wanted to build the life she deserved. 

“I want a conservatory. Or a studio. Something with a lot of natural light. Someplace I can see the stars.”

It had, somehow, snowballed. 

“I want mahogany for the staircase.”

It was a challenge, trying to think of more and more outlandish demands.

“I want red walls in the bedroom. But not fire engine red, a sexy red.”

It made her contractor laugh. He pretended not to, but she could see it, at the corners of his eyes, in the way he dipped his chin.

“I want a huge bathtub, something that can easily fit two people.”

It was… bordering on sexual harassment, possibly. 

“I want a mirror on the ceiling above the bed,” she said, her full lips pulled up in a wicked grin.

He paused. “Now, whatever would you want that for?”

“Would you like to find out?”

He smiled with his eyes, with his cheeks, with his hands and his tongue.

It worked.

Chuck Palumbo saves a woman’s life.
[January 9th, 2016]

Incredibly bizarre news from El Cajon, California. Chuck Palumbo, who was part of WCW near its demise and a focal point of the “Ruthless Aggression” era, was driving down a rural street when he spotted a car laying on its side. Chuck parked his truck, climbed on top of the car via its passenger side, where he released the woman’s seatbelt and lifted her out of the car.

I looked in the car and noticed just one person in the car, a woman who seemed to be going in and out of consciousness. I noticed she was pinned between the steering wheel and her arm was pinned under the car. I was able to lift the car enough so she could move her arm out. As soon as I sat her down on the ground a fire engine was pulling up. I didn’t want to hang around and answer questions, so I just jumped in my truck and headed on my way.

What a badass.

More Things I Need From Dragon Age Inquisition

Alastair. I literally do not care how.

Varric and Sera having archery contests in their downtime. They both cheat shamelessly.

Iron Bull constantly breaking furniture because it can’t support him- he’s not embarrassed, but eventually Josephine arranges for Qunari-made furnishings to be delivered for his suite, and he gives her a massive hug that crushes her ribs.

The option to constantly pester Cullen. We’ve all seen how awkward he can get (*cough*Brothels*cough*) so just everyone constantly trying to make him blush, and scoring points based on Colour, Duration, and Luminescence. Varric judges.

I WANT TO INVADE WEISSHAPUT FORTRESS. I don’t want much, just some siege engines, a rain of fire, maybe some griffons… I’m a simple girl with simple needs.

A Fenris/Dorian showdown. Fenris ready to strike, with Dorian frantically trying to explain that he’s not a magister anymore, he’s trying to change them all, he was never like that, he’s not… And Fenris icy calm, the only thing stopping him attacking is that Dorian hasn’t attacked him, even though he easily could.


Alternatively, because I’m a sucker for happier things, Fenris recognizing him and remembering him as one of the few magisters who was kind to him. Not obviously, because that would have made things worse, but when Dorian admired him as he poured drinks for Denarius he didn’t ask to touch.

How often does Vivienne have to change clothes? Every day? Every hour? Every five minutes? They’re walking along a road in the remote Anderfels and then *poof* Vivienne’s pitched her tent because what’s she’s wearing is so terribly thirty seconds ago and she just can’t be seen like this.

Griffins you can ride. I know they’re extinct and I don’t care.

Fic: Too Much Of A Good Thing

Kurt notices something weird as he helps Blaine unpack all his clothing. PG, 1045 words.

Kurt was starting to regret his offer to help Blaine unpack all his clothing for his triumphant return to the loft.

Oh God, I should’ve taken up Gunther on that offer to cover Mellie’s shift, he thought as he surveyed the amount of boxes he had left to unpack, comparing it to how much rack space remained. Blaine had left about half of his clothes back in Ohio when he’d originally moved to the city, knowing space was at a premium, but when it was revealed that the loft was going to be just for the two of them, he’d had them ship it all over. Kurt couldn’t blame him, though – he’d asked his own father to send over a few of the more delicate pieces he’d left at home now that he had the space to store them properly.

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