#A TASTE OF SUGAR

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Please please please tell me there will be more to the “a taste of sugar” fic you wrote because the dynamic is off the charts fucking hot.

Awww man, I'm sorry Dearheart! Their story is told, sadly. I wish I had more for them, truly I do. They may come back for a one shot here or there for a holiday special but little reader isn't talking to me or telling me what's next for her.

Now, I'm always open to suggestions or speculations if you feel like little reader maybe it could shake something free.

But I doubt it. This little reader was born out of spite though, so I fear her job is done and she's gone off into the wind, not even leaving me her name.

I do have other Alastor projects in the works

[crabussy]

hey. don’t cry. crush four cloves of garlic into a pot with a dollop of olive oil and stir until golden then add one can of crushed tomatoes a bit of balsamic vinegar half a tablespoon of brown sugar and stir for a few minutes adding a handful of fresh spinach until wilted and mix in half a cup of grated parmesan cheese and pasta of your choice ok?

[von2dutch]

5 STAR

[honehonn3honey]

Birthday boy 🎂

[soupfather]

Crocs are neat

[arikasugar]

[dragonmouth]

Crowley’s first failed attempt at tempting Aziraphale in the Garden of Eden….

A very lovely follower on Twitter gave me the idea and reminded me that sugar apples exist. I wish I could try a sugar apple. They look so tasty.

[stevebabey]

"Alright, here we go!" The bartender announces, leaning up to place the drinks on the bar.

"That's one whiskey, neat—" He says, sliding the lowball cocktail glass with amber liquid in front of Eddie.

"—And one Whammin' Slammin' Booty-Bangin' Pina Colada."

He places the extravagant cocktail in front of Steve. It's decorated to the nines with a straw, an umbrella, a piece of pineapple, and a little bit of tinsel on a toothpick. A whole party decoration in a drink.

"You guys have a good night." The bartender says warmly, already moving down the bar to tend to other customers.

Eddie stares down at the whiskey in the glass before him and pouts a little. Beside him and watching his boyfriend closely, Steve rolls his eyes.

"Oh, quit being dramatic," Steve says, sliding the cocktail across the bar so it's in front of Eddie, who had ordered it. He steals the glass of whiskey back at the same time.

"It happens every time."

"It happens most times."

"That isn't much better!" Eddie protests, even as he leans down and takes a long sip from the straw while they both get to their feet and leave the bar. Steve's hunting for a table they can snag, his eyes narrowed in focus. Eddie follows him blindly, his cocktail cupped in both hands.

"I'm serious, Steve! What is it about this adorable face—" He says, gesturing to himself, barely letting go of the straw to talk. It doesn't seem to faze him that Steve doesn't even glance back. "—Says I don't want to enjoy a Whammin' Bammin' Big Booty Colada?"

Steve comes to a stop, pausing his search for a moment to look back at Eddie. His expression seems unimpressed on the surface but Eddie can see his lips twitching up at the corners.

"We've had this conversation too many times, babe." He sighs halfheartedly and takes a quick sip of his own whiskey, eyes casting back out across the bar. "You have scary dog energy, you know this. You specifically dress like this on purpose."

Eddie picks up the pineapple wedged on the edge of his glass and bites into it, sending it down with another sip of his cocktail as Steve leads them further into the back of the bar. He finally spots a spare empty table.

"C'mon, I think I found one." Steve urges, one hand snaking back to make sure Eddie's following.

"Is it a crime to wish to not fall victim to stereotypes?" Eddie prattles on, following Steve duly by slipping his hand into Steve's outstretched one. His cocktail wobbles precariously as he takes another gulp.

"Like when that waitress gave me your awful black coffee! And you got my delicious delicacy that I paid extra hard-earned money for..."

+

i like to think that when steve and eddie go out, people always lean into their assumptions and are like hmm ok preppy boy with the polo? oh he gets the fruity cocktail! and eddie is always like >:( i don't want this expensive puddle of piss gimme the bonanza supreme cocktail pls. like excuse me i paid for that.

[angiestown]

time for everyone to have opinions on sprinkles

[pup-pee]

chewy like a easter egg grass

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I woke up in a bathtub with top surgery scars infested by fungus, the fungus tasted like cheap sugar cookies.

[cg-blight]

very late valentine's day art

[von2dutch]

BLACK WOMEN ECSTASY

[tswwwit]

Bless that trophy wife anon because they’re right. There’s no way mindscape citizens see whatever dipper does in the real world as a real career and he has no job in bill’s realm either, whether he likes it or not he’s entwined with bill’s world and his people and he can’t blame them for thinking his job is being bill’s husband.

That’s what pisses him off, the fact that they’re right.

No matter how Dipper protests that yes, he DOES have a job, the beings in the Fearamid don't believe it's 'real', or worse - humor him, then give Knowing Looks to the other demons in the room.

Meanwhile, Bill knows it's real - but sometimes he plays along like it isn't just to piss Dipper off.

[arikasugar]

[varpusvaras]

Fox wants to be a coffee snob so badly. He likes good coffee. He likes good blends. He can tell the difference between roasts. He knows everything there is to know about soils and humidity and lightness and all that.

But he can't. He just can't. He has too much of a sweet tooth for that. One frappucino monstrosity for him thank you.