More insanity fic ideas.
So. Um.
What do you think would happen if Cash caught the MPreg?
“Dude, did the room just get fatter?” Marshall asks when Cash and Alex come in in the morning.
“Marshall,” Alex says warningly.
“I'm just saying,” Marshall says, leaning against Ian. “I think that maybe the room got a little fatter. You know, just now.”
Cash blinks back tears. Fucking hormones. He was pretty sure that he had worked all that out last night, but apparently fits of hormonal insanity were like morning sickness. They came and went as they pleased and surprised Cash whenever he thought he had it under control. He hates being pregnant. Also, his nipples hurt, but like hell he's telling any of the guys that.
“Cash looks amazing,” Alex says tightly. “And you're going to apologize right now, Alex Marshall. Or I'll. I'll. I'll something to you and it won't be pretty. If you were half the man Cash is.”
“I am half the man Cash is!” Marshall retorts.
Alex lunges at him and Marshall leaps out of the bed. That's when the slapping starts. Ineffectual slapping, mostly at air and each other's hands. “You little bitch!” Alex says.
“Pussy,” Marshall retorts.
“Pull his hair!” Ian calls from the bed, not to either one specifically. He's just throwing it out there.
Alex makes the grab first, yanking hard on Marshall's bangs.
“Fucker!” Marshall howls, grabbing a fistful of Alex's hair, pulling until they're circling around, just holding on to the bits of hair.
“Throw a goddamn punch like a man!” Johnson yells.
“Dude, no, Singer's already got one black eye,” Cash counters.
Alex and Marshall both stop. Alex looks horrified and Marshall starts to laugh so hard that he has to sit down on the ground. “What?” Cash asks.
“You assume he'd hit me first? I was defending your honor, asshole. I could have totally punched him.” Alex balls his hands into fists.
“If you punched him like that,” Cash points out, “you'd break your thumb. Just so you know.”
Alex looks down at his hand. “Damn it. I hate you all.” He throws himself onto the empty bed and sighs. “I'm never defending you again, Cash. You can just fend for yourself.”
“It'll be OK, soon he'll be knocking us all over with his ass,” Ian says. He narrowly dodges the pillow that Alex throws at him.
“Dude, you bitches couldn't handle being pregnant,” Cash says, sitting next to Alex. Apparently, his hormones have finally decided to calm the fuck down. “Also.” He lifts his ass and rips a huge fart. “Suck that.”
“Cash!” Alex yelps, covering his mouth with his shirt. “I'm right here! And I was being nice!”
“Casualty of war,” Cash says, waving a hand in front of his face. “Damn. Shouldn't have had those tacos yesterday.”
What do you think would happen if Cash caught the MPreg?
“Dude, did the room just get fatter?” Marshall asks when Cash and Alex come in in the morning.
“Marshall,” Alex says warningly.
“I'm just saying,” Marshall says, leaning against Ian. “I think that maybe the room got a little fatter. You know, just now.”
Cash blinks back tears. Fucking hormones. He was pretty sure that he had worked all that out last night, but apparently fits of hormonal insanity were like morning sickness. They came and went as they pleased and surprised Cash whenever he thought he had it under control. He hates being pregnant. Also, his nipples hurt, but like hell he's telling any of the guys that.
“Cash looks amazing,” Alex says tightly. “And you're going to apologize right now, Alex Marshall. Or I'll. I'll. I'll something to you and it won't be pretty. If you were half the man Cash is.”
“I am half the man Cash is!” Marshall retorts.
Alex lunges at him and Marshall leaps out of the bed. That's when the slapping starts. Ineffectual slapping, mostly at air and each other's hands. “You little bitch!” Alex says.
“Pussy,” Marshall retorts.
“Pull his hair!” Ian calls from the bed, not to either one specifically. He's just throwing it out there.
Alex makes the grab first, yanking hard on Marshall's bangs.
“Fucker!” Marshall howls, grabbing a fistful of Alex's hair, pulling until they're circling around, just holding on to the bits of hair.
“Throw a goddamn punch like a man!” Johnson yells.
“Dude, no, Singer's already got one black eye,” Cash counters.
Alex and Marshall both stop. Alex looks horrified and Marshall starts to laugh so hard that he has to sit down on the ground. “What?” Cash asks.
“You assume he'd hit me first? I was defending your honor, asshole. I could have totally punched him.” Alex balls his hands into fists.
“If you punched him like that,” Cash points out, “you'd break your thumb. Just so you know.”
Alex looks down at his hand. “Damn it. I hate you all.” He throws himself onto the empty bed and sighs. “I'm never defending you again, Cash. You can just fend for yourself.”
“It'll be OK, soon he'll be knocking us all over with his ass,” Ian says. He narrowly dodges the pillow that Alex throws at him.
“Dude, you bitches couldn't handle being pregnant,” Cash says, sitting next to Alex. Apparently, his hormones have finally decided to calm the fuck down. “Also.” He lifts his ass and rips a huge fart. “Suck that.”
“Cash!” Alex yelps, covering his mouth with his shirt. “I'm right here! And I was being nice!”
“Casualty of war,” Cash says, waving a hand in front of his face. “Damn. Shouldn't have had those tacos yesterday.”