#Sicilian dishes
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njmauthor · 1 year ago
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Caponata
Caponata is one of the most famous Sicilian dishes, often served as a vegetable antipasto or appetizer. There are 37 official recipes for the dish. For a history of caponata, click here. Mine features the essential eggplant, plus peppers, onions, celery, tomatoes, olives, and capers in a sweet-and-sour (agrodolce) sauce. Caponata benefits from being made ahead (at least 8 hours) to develop its…
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lovertm · 5 months ago
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pizzas by markmakespizza (2)
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tilbageidanmark · 20 days ago
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A long pizza
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fortunatefool · 10 months ago
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Another homemade pizza night!
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Just devoured 4 slices
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lupismaris · 2 years ago
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If you can don't wait until 9pm to have your first meal of the day you will inevitably find yourself in a fever dream of pantry based cookery possessed by the ancestors and 'tism cravings
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changedebate · 1 year ago
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My Sicilian Ex-Mother-in-Law's Peperonata Recipe Fresh herbs, peppers, onions, and tomatoes are a delicious combination in this version of a Sicilian contorno meatless side dish that tastes even better the next day.
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faserlandebahn · 1 year ago
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Amy's Cauliflower Mac and Cheese This Sicilian grandma's cherished mac and cheese recipe bakes tender cauliflower and macaroni in a garlicky, mozzarella-Cheddar cheese sauce.
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davidliebeharttour · 1 year ago
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Homemade Chicken Cacciatore, Sicilian-Style Tomatoes, onions, peppers, wine, and seasonings are used in this recipe.
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rocoreview · 1 year ago
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Sicilian Meat Roll Ground beef seasoned with oregano and garlic, shaped into a rectangle, layered with ham and mozzarella cheese, then rolled up and baked.
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jackfromnc · 1 year ago
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My Sicilian Ex-Mother-in-Law's Peperonata Fresh herbs, peppers, onions, and tomatoes are a delicious combination in this version of a Sicilian contorno meatless side dish that tastes even better the next day. 1 large red onion cut into 8 wedges, 1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano, 1/3 cup dry white wine, 1 large yellow bell pepper seeded, 3 large red bell peppers seeded, 2 medium ripe plum tomatoes diced, 2 cloves garlic minced, 1 small fresh red chile pepper finely chopped, 1 bunch fresh basil chopped, salt and ground black pepper to taste, 1/3 cup sliced black and green olives, 2 tablespoons olive oil or more to taste
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rokujuukyu · 1 year ago
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Homemade Chicken Cacciatore, Sicilian-Style
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This recipe is made with tomatoes, onions, peppers, wine, and seasonings.
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helpsuzi3d · 1 year ago
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Side Dish - Sauces - Sicilian Lentil Pasta Sauce Garlic, onions, mushrooms, and small pieces of zucchini are sautéed. Cooked with the lentils until the lentils are tender and the vegetables have given off their flavor. This extremely thick Sicilian sauce is finished with tomato paste and sauce.
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seiracchi · 2 years ago
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Sicilian Spaghetti Anchovies sauteed with garlic and oil makes a pungently tasty sauce for hot spaghetti. Add some breadcrumbs and parsley to the anchovy mix and toss with the noodles to serve.
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yourbasicqueerie · 5 days ago
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can we hear ur lilia headcanons... as many as possible i am starving
be careful another what you ask lol, these r some of my fave ones:
( i am and will be ignoring her death. try me hoes)
• that woman can cook, she’ll make you a MEAAANNNN pesto alla trapanese and don’t get me started on traditional sicilian dishes. can’t bake for shit tho.
• she sews most of her clothing herself.
• that woman has had some questionable gigs to rank up some cash, some of those being:
- a history teacher who made some questionable comments about vampires and their uselessness in actual fighting ( “you know kids, vampires are absolutely shit heads, you think they are going to be these big scary people but noooo, terrible at hand in hand combat too” . )
-a hand reader at various kid parties. the amount of times she’s had to tell moms that no, she will not know the gender of their child is astounding ( . )
-a jazz singer at some dingy bar ( she got approached by a big time producer once, but refused to do anything with him after he made some off handed comment about her hair)
• talking about hair, she’s very very proud of her curls, she might not be keen on chemical peels as much ( smth jen later got her on) but if you want to talk hair care? she’s your girl
• after she got kicked out of her place, she moved into agatha’s house and took over the couch. though she will never say it, the couch is the most comfortable thing she has ever slept on ( maybe even the MAAASSIVE bed she must have had in her young days)
• talking about her young days, even though she was not from a royal family, YOU CANNOT TELL ME she wasn’t somehow related to the médici family, i mean LOOK AT HER!!!
• she owns a small artemisia gentilieschi portrait of herself she commissioned while at florence.
• her favorite colour, contrary to popular opinion, is not yellow, but orange
• she sings in the shower, beautifully and loudly so. ( can’t exaggerate the loud part, you can hear her from the whole house, the coven does not complain tho, they acc quite like the everything shower days, it means they get at least 40 minutes of lilia’s singing)
• when drunk, lilia is so chatty and touchy, agatha is not keen on it, but rio loves it, their karaoke duos are astonishing too.
• she laughs the loudest between all of them
• agatha full on laid all her mommy issues in this woman ( now, if that is to say that if she and agatha were to have sex, agatha would call her mommy, or if agatha sees lilia as a motherly figure is up to you)
• the whole of the coven depends on her, if lilia is gone then they all fall apart
• she is a sucker for an aldi, would spend hours grocery shopping if she could.
• wine enthusiast lilia calderu
• polyglot lilia calderu
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tpwk-formula1 · 3 months ago
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
Here at Lee-Lee's we love to make custom pizzas for anyone who wants one! Go through the line and by the end of it you will have created a perfect pizza for you to indulge in!
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Server
Pick 1 or more!
I do poly fics! Can be driver x driver x reader OR driver x wag x reader. I will also write M x M reader just clarify and if you pick a prompt that states a gender I will fix it accordingly.
Lando Norris
Max Verstappen
Charles Leclerc
Oscar Piastri
Carlos Sainz
Lewis Hamilton
George Russell
Fernando Alonso
Alex Albon
Daniel Ricciardo
Pierre Gasly
Yuki T
Lanco Stroll
Ollie Bearman
Franco Colapinto
Logan Sargeant
Jack Doohan
Liam Lawson
Kimi Antonelli
Dino Beganovic
Paul Aaron
Toto Wolff
Seb Vettel
Jenson Button
Mark Webber
Max Fewtrell
Pizza Crust
At Lee-Lee's we understand that all great pizzas start with a great crust just like how fics start with a great trope! Pick 1
Thin Crust - Brother's best friend
Thick Crust - Sugar Daddy
Cauliflower Crust - Sunshine x Grumpy
Gluten-Free - Rivals
Deep Dish - Teammates to lovers
Sicilian Crust - Dating or hooking up
Pizza Sauce
Here at Lee-Lee's our sauce is the overall vibe of the fic! Pick 1
Red Sauce - Rough Sex
Alfredo Sauce - Sweet Sex
Pizza Toppings
Pick 1 or more
Pepperoni - "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want"
Sausage - "Better not waste a drop"
Olives - "Swallow every last bit. NOW!"
Jalapenos - "Always such a fucking brat"
Onions - "I saw you being a little slut"
Green Peppers - "I'm gonna have that ass glowing red by the time I'm done with you"
Tomatoes - "Do you enjoy pissing me off?"
Mushrooms - "Wrong, wanna try again"
Salami - "You’re gonna get an attitude adjustment if you keep being a brat”
Chicken - "Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?"
Basil - "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy"
Garlic - "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum"
Cilantro - "Stop crying and fucking take it"
Roasted Peppers - "Couldn’t help yourself, could you?"
Artichokes - "Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use"
Bacon - "What would your brother think if he caught us"
Banana Peppers - "Taking it from both ends? It’s cause you’re a fucking whore"
Ham - "Such a whore you’re getting off on my thigh?"
Buffalo Chicken - "Such a fucking crybaby, just fucking take it all"
Spinach - "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock"
Pineapple - "Been such a good girl, tonight you deserve a reward"
Arugula - "I love stretching this pussy out"
Broccoli - "Made just for me huh?"
Gorgonzola cheese - "Are you always this fucking loud?"
Parmesan cheese - "Awe... did that hurt? Tuff luck I'm gonna do it again"
Mozzarella- “All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it”
Feta cheese - “God, I love watching your makeup get ruined”
Cheddar cheese - “cumming for me already? Such a needy slut”
Roasted Mushrooms - “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy”
Roasted Artichokes - “im gonna put a baby in you”
Gouda cheese - “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl”
Red peppers - “No. Go change”
BBQ Chicken - “Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby”
Canadian bacon - "Do you need an attitude adjustment"
Meatballs - "Why do you always have to complain?"
Chorizo - "Alright, you spent my money. You know what to do now"
Pulled pork - "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you"
Egg - "Why so needy?"
Prosciutto - "I love making this pretty pussy squirt"
Anchovies - "How are you already drenched"
Sweet Onions - "Are you done complaining?"
Cherry Tomatoes - "Gonna regret it tomorrow when you can’t sit right"
Sun-dried tomatoes - "Gonna look so pretty pregnant"
Provolone - "Always look best with a face covered in my cum"
Ricotta - "I love your voice but it's always my favorite when you're moaning my name"
Goat cheese - "Get on your knees and beg"
Buratta - "How many was that? three... I think you can give me another"
Fontina - "wipe that fucking smirk off your face"
Pepper jack. - "If you wanna be a whore go back to his place then"
Colby Jack - "If you keep running that mouth you're not gonna cum tonight"
Romano - "You're the biggest disappointment to your family. You're a whore and now you're a fucking liar"
Kielbasa - "A preschooler is better behaved than you are"
Kale - "I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you"
Eggplant - "Are you sure you want me to take it baby?"
Shrimp - "I'll be gentle"
Turkey sausage - "Only the best for my girl"
Pancetta - "Your father always finds a way to piss me off"
Roasted asparagus - "Stop trying to get away. Just be a good girl and take it"
Shallots - "I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you"
Oregano - "Please, let me cum in you"
Turkey meatballs - “Stop crying, I’m far from done”
Mozzarella balls - “Gonna get yourself in trouble”
Vegan sausage - “God you love it when I slap that pretty little face of yours”
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Drink Time
Every great pizza comes with a drink! Just like every great fic comes with kink/s! Pick 1 or more
Beer - Edging/ orgasm denial
Coke - Spanking
Sprite - Size Kink
Dr Pepper - Dirty Talk
Root beer - Daddy  Kink
Sweet tea - Dumbification
Lemonade - Body Worship (Reader giving or receiving)
Pink lemonade - Degrading Kink
Diet Coke - Recording Kink
Pepsi - Oral Kink
Diet Pepsi - Biting
Sparkling Water - Spitting
Red bull - Hickeys
Mt. Dew - Dom/ Sub (Is reader a dom or sub?)
Water - Breeding Kink
Wine - Free Use Kink
Black Tea - Choking
Green Tea - Doggy Position
Boba - Anal
Strawberry Smoothie - Bondage
Apple Juice - Pain Kink
Slushie - Safe word used
Sun Tea - Sir kink
White Claw - Crying
Truly - Belly Bulge
Mango Smoothie - Baby trapping
Orange juice - morning sex
Vodka soda - Somnophilia/ sleepy sex
Tequila sunrise - Wax Play
Vodka redbull - Squirting
Coke Zero - High sex
Cranberry juice - Caught in the act
Mojito - Loss of virginity
Old Fashion - Drunk sex
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Dessert Time!
Do you want dessert with your pizza? Dessert will represent if you would like to see aftercare at the end or not.
Yes - Aftercare
No - No Aftercare
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fadingdaggerr · 1 year ago
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would that i
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: melissa knew what love should look like, and learned what it shouldn’t be. learning what it actually is takes time | 3.4k
translations: nonna/nonno (grandma/grandpa), t’amu (i love you) | reminder that sicilian is slightly different from italian in dialect
warnings: allusions to cheating (minimal), allusions to unhealthy relationships (minimal), making up my own melissa lore bc i’m so normal about her, kissing/making out
note: a little bit of this was an homage to my grandparents, the people that showed me what love should be. thank u and love u
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When Melissa was in sixth grade, her teacher assigned a two-page essay on what they thought of when they pictured love. The moment Mrs. Erikson said this, Melissa knew she was going to write about her Nonna and Nonno.
Every morning, Nonna made breakfast and coffee, she packed Nonno’s lunch, and always left a note that said T’amu in her flowy cursive. Every evening, Nonno brought in the laundry off the line and folded it while Nonna made dinner. Even when they fought, there was never a loss of their kiss good morning, goodbye, and good night. Only on anniversaries was Nonno allowed in the kitchen, and they’d dance while sauce simmered on the stovetop. Love between them seemed easy and gentle. Melissa spent every Saturday night and Sunday morning across the street at their house, and every time she found something to add to her list of what love looked like and how it should be.
Melissa thought she had found love with Tommy Adkins in eighth grade. She’d even bought a new dress to wear to autumn formal, pink and ruffled and perfect. By the time she was ready to leave, her face almost hurt from the amount of times she redid her makeup so that Tommy would call her beautiful instead of bangin’ for once. That night she watched him dance with Jennifer Milano with a half-baked excuse of him “not wanting to kiss a chick with braces.” Melissa cried for two hours while Nonna told her she was better off, a bowl of pastina pushed her way. She forgot about him by the time Monday rolled around.
High school boyfriends came and went, but in college Melissa fell in love for the first time. A true, deep love with a firefighter-in-training that knew her neighbor. Everytime Joe visited Brian, he stopped across the hall to see Melissa, leaned against the doorway with an easy smile. He was charming, respectful, and funny, everything she had been looking for. Two months after she graduated, he dropped to one knee and she jumped into his arms. They moved from their apartment to a home in south Philly. Melissa worked during the day, and Joe started night shifts at the fire station for the extra pay.
Night shifts began to extend, and Melissa never saw him. He’d eat the plate she’d prepared in the fridge and leave the dirty dish on the counter. Dirt and ash from his boots tracked across her rugs and carpets, scuff marks in her living room. What almost killed her was the dirty cast iron skillet left in the sink. When she brought anything up, he’d deflect and leave. Every now and then, he came home with flowers “just because.” But then flowers began to follow every extra long night, and she could smell the floral perfume that didn’t belong to her and didn’t match the flowers. It took her months to say anything, and all she was met with was eyes that couldn’t look at hers.
Melissa began to think that what her grandparents had could never be hers. A loving life was in the cards, and Joe had only solidified this. She stayed at Barbara’s that night.
A few years later, her perspective was changed when a new fourth grade teacher joined the staff mid-term. Never in her years had she allowed someone in so easily, allowed them to be her friend and not just a coworker. Somehow, in two years, Melissa realized she’d never felt so cared for and loved by anyone.
“Is there a chance I could pour a cup of coffee before you start bursting my ear drums?” Melissa says when Jacob and Janine start babbling behind her about something she didn’t care about at 7:30 on a Friday morning. Ever since she turned onto the street the school is on, a headache had been growing steadily. Staying up late to finish grading was the worst idea she’s had all month. The two teachers cringe slightly, lowering their volume. When the door opened again for you and Barbara to enter chatting with each other, volume lowering at the sight of Melissa sat at the table with fingers pressed to her temples. She hears a bag drop on the table quietly, opening one eye to see you trying to be as quiet as possible as you dig around.
When you finally stop, you pull out a bottle of ibuprofen and pass it to her. She waves it off, muttering a don’t need it. When you don’t reply, she peers up to see you still holding the bottle out with an expectant look on your face. You shake the bottle, “don’t suffer just to look tough.”
“Melissa Ann, take the damn pills,” Barbara orders from her seat, spooning some sugar into her coffee.
“I don’t need ‘em,” she mumbles out again.
You push your hand forward more, “please. If not for yourself, for your students. You’re irritable when you have a headache.” Barbara chuckles and sends a knowing look to Melissa. Janine and Jacob, on the other hand, turn and look at you, fully expecting the red head to make some harsh reply or threat back to you. All she does is puff out a laugh and grab the bottle from your hands. She decided not to remark on the weird looks she was getting from the peanut gallery.
When getting the kids ready for recess, she sees you peering around the corner to the doorway. She holds a finger to ask you to wait, and gets a double thumbs up in return. After zipping many jackets and helping with gloves, she watches the little eagles run outside in the chilly autumn air. As she walks back into her classroom, she sees you sitting in her chair waiting patiently for her. “You know, I don’t let anyone sit in my seat,” she jokes as approaches.
“Good thing I’m not just anyone, now am I?” you joke, standing to meet her.
She fights her smile as she answers quietly, “no, you’re not.” She takes a second to breathe when she sees a grin cross your lips at her comment, “we still on for dinner at mine tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” the grin on your face growing, the giddy feeling in Melissa’s chest with it. You loop your arm with hers and walk towards the lounge.
When Melissa opens the front door, you expect a greeting, but instead you get a groan as she stomps back to the kitchen. Dropping your bag and shrugging off your coat, you walk into the kitchen, placing the box of pastries on the table. Melissa returns to angrily rummaging through the refrigerator, desperately trying to find something. It wasn’t until two hands pulled her back by the shoulders, turning her around. She relaxes into your touch, closing her eyes.
“I’m out of basil,” she says through a sigh.
“Want me to go to the store?” you ask, wanting to remove any stress from her.
“No,” Melissa answers as she opens her eyes, “you just got here, that wouldn’t be fair.”
You laugh, “we could go together. Or we can just be lazy, order a pizza, and not get off the couch.”
“Second one,” she sighs out, pulling away to clean up the dishes she took out. While she’s distracted, you take the time to call in the order, pay, and tip over the phone so that Melissa won’t even have the chance to say herself.
“If there’s pineapple on there, I’m kicking you out,” she yells from the kitchen after she hears you hang up.
“No, veggie. And yes, I asked for no mushrooms. One of these days though, I’ll convert you to being a pineapple woman,” you joke tilting your head back to see her standing behind you, “plus, you wouldn’t dare kick out the person who brought you zeppole.”
She gets closer, leaning over with her hands holding the backrest on either side of your head, “is there chocolate sauce?” The excitement was evident in her tone, bringing butterflies to your stomach. You can’t form words with her standing over you and smiling like that, so you just nod.
Later into the night, the TV played Weeds while you sat in comfortable silence, only breaking it when you both repeated the same joke out loud every now and then. Your legs were thrown over her lap, her fingers playing with the folding fabric of your jeans as she watched the screen. Her subconscious drew her attention toward you, eyes tracing over smile lines and the glowing reflection in your eyes from the TV. She watches you lean forward to grab a zeppole, ready to offer it to her. It’s only then that you catch her stare.
“You okay?” you ask, turning and scooting closer to give her your full attention.
She gives a quick squeeze to your leg, “yeah, hon. I’m better than okay.” She feels even better when you lean into her, placing your head on her shoulder. She drops her head to yours, a deep breath leaving her as she finally relaxes fully for the first time all day.
Some time between then and now, things had changed, Melissa wasn’t exactly sure when. At some point the Friday dinners turned into Saturday plans, then Sunday since the farmer’s market was open, no other reason. Breakfast on those days translated to bringing coffee to each other at work, ignoring the questioning gazes of other staff members as she passed you your coffee, despite having never asked how you took it. What had started with you sleeping on the couch when the night grew later, migrated to the spare bedroom.
On a Sunday night, it changed again. You watched the tail end of an Eagles’ game while sitting in her bed after helping grade book reports. As always, your head rested on her shoulder with her own resting on yours. Anytime something that wasn’t a point being scored happened, she explained it to you, though she knew not a thing she said would help make sense of it. It didn’t matter to you, all you wanted was to hear her voice and have her attention.
“Your bed is comfy,” you mutter when the commercials begin before the last quarter.
A smile crosses her lips, “treated myself to a good mattress when I kicked bozo out. Glad you approve.”
“You deserve nice things,” you say as you settle into her more, and through a yawn add, “the best things.”
That night, you’d both fallen asleep slumped against the headboard, leaning into each other for comfort.
Melissa woke up to a rhythmic thumping under her ear and a hand in her hair gently playing with amber waves. The small smile that came to her lips would have been foreign to her if she wasn’t so comfortable, the content feeling in her chest would be almost alarming. When her eyes cracked open, she recognized her bedroom and sheets. She groaned into the cold morning air, and the hand moved from twirling the ends of her hair to scratching her scalp, making her tuck into the warmth beneath her even more.
“Good morning,” you rasp out, having only been awake a little longer, the only response being another groan. She finally rolls off of you, much to your dismay, and sits up on her elbows, looking at you with sleepy, squinted eyes.
“It’s Monday,” she grumbles.
You chuckle, grabbing her glasses off the nightstand for her, “fine, just morning then.”
Something about this morning felt different to Melissa. You’d never spent the night on a school night, let alone sleep in her bed, but that wasn’t what shook her. It wasn’t you making her coffee, sipping it to make sure it tasted right before handing it to her. It also wasn’t that you turned off her alarm and woke her up yourself without making her ears bleed. She thought it could be that you’d opened the door for her on the way out, or how you offered to drive her to and from work to make up for staying late, but not that either.
Maybe it was how she didn’t want to get out of bed, or how her coffee tasted better than any time she’d made it herself. Or how she hadn’t slept that peacefully in twenty years. It could have been how much she enjoyed being driven to work, and having full control of the songs you listened to on the way there, or the fact that she sped ahead to open a door for you this time. She doesn't have time to dwell on it once she gets to her classroom, a knock on the doorframe comes the second to place her purse on the desk.
“I thought you weren’t in today, I didn’t see your car in the parking lot,” Barbara says as she walks in.
Without looking up from her bag as she pulls out folders, Melissa answers, “I got a ride in.”
“Did you now?” Barbara asks with an amused tone. “And would that someone happen to be the fourth grade teacher that practically lives with you?”
“We don’t live together,” Melissa says incredulously, “we just fell asleep, so we drove in together. It’s not a big deal, it’s not like we’re actually together.”
Barbara can’t hide her laugh, “you fell asleep? Both of you? And where was that?” Melissa only mumbles back, so Barbara presses, “where did you both sleep, Melissa?”
“My bed,” Melissa finally says a little louder, but not much. She wants to send her head through a wall knowing that Barb just figured her out.
“Oh, girl. You are in deep,” Barbara says with a smirk. After she leaves the room, the spiral in Melissa’s head goes faster.
Said spiral carries her through lunch, and only stops when you sit across from her and stare at her for a moment. Her face contorts in a what? look before you reach across the table and brush your fingers through her hair. When you pull back, there’s a purple string from the third graders’ projects between your fingers. Barbara kicks her from under the table, and she kicks back with equal force. They both see you look at them weird, before brushing it off and going back to getting your lunch out. Barbara cocks her head to you, staring at the red head, silently telling her to do something. The look the kindergarten teacher gets back replies not now.
When the end of the day rolls around, Melissa is anxious for your eventual arrival in her doorway, keys swinging around your pointer finger. All she could think about since you parted ways this morning was your hands in her hair and your heartbeat under her ear. She hadn’t felt so content and so at peace in so long, the feeling was so new that it almost scared her. Melissa had to remind herself that this was about you, not anyone else. You’d never hurt, belittled, or offended Melissa, you’d never made it your mission to anger or disregard her, nor had you ever tried putting yourself before her. She knew that feeling this way about you shouldn’t scare her, but it did.
The sound of keys and footsteps in the hallways alerted her to your approaching presence, making Melissa quickly rise to her feet and grab her things, realizing she’d been spaced out since the last student left. As she predicted, you stood there spinning your keys, smile growing when she turned toward you. It drops slightly when you see her smile not reach her eyes. “Ready?” you ask.
“Sure, yeah,” she clears her throat, “let’s go.”
You can tell her mind is running into overdrive as you pull onto her street. When you park in the driveway, you unbuckle to turn in your seat and face her.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
She turns to you with a scrunched face, “what are you, 90?”
You shrug and point to her sleeves, “you’re thinking. You play with the thumb holes when you think.” She’d curse you for noticing if it didn’t make her heart clench. “You don’t have to tell me,” you add, “but I’ll listen, if you want.”
She looks at you for a moment, surrendering with a, “wanna come in?” You only answer by taking your keys out of the transmission, hopping out, and opening the door for her.
The discussion gets put on hold while Melissa heats up leftovers from the night before. She carries both bowls out to the living room where you’re turning on the TV back on for background noise. As Melissa sits down, she faces toward you and you mirror her pose. “Sorry I was acting weird,” she mumbles before taking a bite.
You shake your head, “you’re only allowed to apologize when you’ve done something wrong. Thinking isn’t doing something wrong.” When she doesn’t speak again, you offer up something else, “Ava almost had a heart attack over you this morning.”
She looks at you confused, “were we wearing the same shade of green again?”
“No. She thought you didn’t come to work this morning cause your car wasn’t there, was going off about how she was going to have to sub because there’s still a shortage in the area,” you laugh, “I had to tell her I drove you in, which also ended me in a twenty minute interrogation during my prep period.”
“What sort of interrogation?” she asked, already nervous.
You look down the bowl in your lap as you speak, poking the food around, “the kind where she asks for a detailed account of my whole weekend. Weird amounts of detail too, mealtimes, where I slept, where we went, what shows we watched.”
“What’d you tell her?” Melissa can feel fear creeping into her bones.
“That we went to the farmer’s market, watched sitcoms, and I slept in the guest room,” you answer truthfully, “and what did you say to Barbara?” Her head snaps to you, you lean your head to the side, “she stopped by to ask me about my weekend, she seemed a little too excited to see me if you hadn’t spoken to her first.”
Melissa moves to place her bowl on the coffee table before looking back to you, “she asked why we drove in together. I said we fell asleep, and she asked where we fell asleep. Might’ve told her you slept in my bed.”
“It’s impossible to lie to her,” you say as you copy her move. You’re silent for a moment, then finally ask, “what were you thinking about?”
She takes in a deep breath and exhales to calm her nerves, “this morning. This whole weekend, but mostly this morning.” She glances up, and sees your face had dropped, worry setting in, and she’s quick to revise her statement, “in a good way. This morning, this weekend, they meant a lot to me.”
At her words, your lips stretch into a smile, “it meant a lot to me, too.” She can see you internally question saying the next part, “and you. you mean a lot to me, a crazy amount.”
It’s her turn to smile like an idiot now, a pretty blush covering her cheeks, “you mean a crazy amount to me, too. Being around you it’s... It’s easy. I like being with you.”
“I do, too. Sometimes, when I’m here I almost forget I live somewhere else. The second I step inside and I’m with you, I don’t know, leaving just feels wrong,” you say honestly, eyes flickering over her face as you speak, scanning for a rejection you won’t find.
“Waking up to you was nice,” Melissa mumbles, “you’re a pretty good pillow, if I do say so myself.”
Your airy laugh makes her heart race, it goes even faster when you lean in to reply, “I wouldn’t mind waking up that way again... and again, and again.”
She matches you lean in, smiling, “yeah?” Your noses are almost touching, she can feel your breath just barely touching her face. Her eyes flick to yours and see you looking back, faint lines forming as your lips turned upward as her gaze.
“Being with you makes sense,” you say quietly into the space between you, eyes flicking to her lips then back up.
Her hand moves up to your cheek, warm hands and cool rings holding with gentle affection. Olive eyes look into yours for permission, but your answer is closing the space between you. Her other hand flies to hold your neck, your hands holding her wrists. They slide from her arms to her waist, pulling her closer and crawling beneath her shirt to rest on her skin. She takes the chance to straddle your lap as her tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking for the instantly granted entry. Her lips were soft, savoring the feeling of yours against hers, committing it to memory.
Your arms tighten around her, holding her as if she’s this precious thing, and it makes her only give more into you. Her lips slow, and you can almost feel the love she’s trying to convey in her action. But your lungs can only survive so long, and she pulls her lips away, resting her forehead against yours.
“Stay?” she whispers through her breaths as she recovers.
“Wasn’t planning on leaving,” you mumble back, dazed from her kiss. You duck foreward, hugging her as she still sits in your lap. Her arms circle your shoulders, hearing you mumble into her neck, “I love you.”
She presses a kiss to your head, “I love you.”
Melissa’s heart beat against your ear, calm and steady. The smell of her perfume and honey shampoo flooded your senses, making you nudge into her further. You tilted your head, lips pressing softly to the skin of her neck, moving upwards back to her lips, pressing a long, sound kiss there. You pull away to look at her, smoothing back copper strands.
“Is it too early to go lay in bed for the rest of the night?” you ask quietly.
She huffs a laugh, “I was gonna suggest the same thing.”
By the fifth episode of Weeds, Melissa noticed your breathing even out. She peered down at you where you lay curled into her side with your head on her chest, arm slung over her middle, lips slightly parted. She presses a kiss to your head as she shuts the TV off, and lays there to just bask in you being with her. She’d never felt so adored, so cared for, so at ease. This is was it was supposed to be.
feedback appreciated as always <3
title from would that i by hozier (i’m sure everyone knew that. we’re all gay here)
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