#cooked his little meatball ass

[telestoapologist]

OSSEOUS LITTLE TOAD ASKDFGHA get his ass eris

[anyarose011]

Dimensions {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: What else is there to do after an emotional night than spill your darkest insecurities to someone you hated a week ago? Advice: Go bowling and to a movie afterwards so he'll tell you his.

Part 9 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Long ass monologues you could use to audition for a school play, a good father figure, swearing, past miscarriages, past abandonment, descriptions of cancer, and descriptions of grief.

I’m just now realizing that all of my series has a dead mom. Guys, I’m not like Walt Disney I swear; my mom is alive and we have a great relationship 85% of the time. But anyway, hey pookiesss, here's my late Christmas/New Years gift! I really loved this chapter, and made it a little longer just to make up for the long time it took to get it out. Honestly...this may be the second to last chapter. We'll just have to see if I would want to write a long last chapter or not. Also, I would like to apologize for changing the title to the series (specifically to @riverdrowning for recommending it), but it's not my fault Jack Antonoff probably walked out of the movie and said "This would be a great song".

Word Count: 7.4k

The spaghetti wasn’t cooked all the way, the sauce covered half of the pasta, and the only good thing about the room service your stepfather ordered were the meatballs.

Maybe you should’ve just sucked it up and stayed at the diner.

You hadn’t seen Angus or your stepfather-fuck it, he was still your dad, the rest of the evening. You had shut yourself in your small hotel room, trying to console yourself with a warm bath and reading The Little Prince.

It helped a little bit, and you had barely had a break from crying that you thought you would sleep well that night.

Yet, as you laid on the bed and saw the digital clock read ‘1:00 AM’, that was when you sat up. Wrapping the spare blanket around yourself, you peeked behind the curtains of the window and just stared out it. There were a few people down on the streets of snowy Boston. Some were across the street sitting on a bench drinking and laughing, and some walking briskly with their hands in their pockets to escape the cold.

Your gaze then lingered on the door to your left by the desk; the door leading to Angus and your father’s room.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the door and carefully turned the handle. Luckily, the door didn’t creak as you opened it, and then stepped into the room. Just like yours, the only light was in the room was the streetlamps outside peering in through the window.

Your father slept with a pillow over his head, probably in an attempt to smother his snores for Angus sake. Your gaze then turned to the boy in question. He slept soundly on his side facing away from the window.

Tiptoeing, once you made it to his side, you gently shook him.

Angus hummed lightly before turning over and seeing you. He flinched for a moment, and you shushed him before whispering.

“Can I talk to you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

You didn’t say anything; only took his hand in yours and helped him stand from his bed. The two of you quietly scurried back to your room, and shut the door. You sat on your bed, leaning against the headboard. You assumed Angus would’ve sat at the foot of it, but no, he sat beside you.

Silence filled the air between you, until, for the first time, it was Angus who broke the silence.

“You uh…you said you wanted to talk. Do you still wanna do that?”

“No,” you immediately answered. “but I know I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I mean I need to.” You sighed. “I’m sorry; I didn’t expect that I needed to tell you about…Daniel, but I should have.”

Angus shook his head. “It was none of my business. It’s a lot of bagage-.”

“-Can I just say everything first, please?” When you saw him nod, you continued with hesitance. “My mom did meet my father at Harvard, but she also met Paul. She…she was closer with him the whole time. They went on like one date their sophomore year, but she said it didn’t work out; apparently, he was too full of himself for her back then.” You both laughed.

Swallowing, you continued. “They were still friends, but my mom started dating Daniel her junior year. He had to repeat a year, and even then, barely passed that. It’s not that he was an idiot, he just didn’t want to do the work. Still, they got along, and after they graduated, they got married and moved to Boston. They wanted kids right away but…my mom had two miscarriages before having me a lot later. I-I wondered if he hated her because of that. Still, I remember growing up and Daniel was nice but…It’s stupid, there’d school stuff and he wouldn’t come. He’d say it was work, and I know that was probably the case, but I remember one night where I heard my mom yelling at him because he went to the bar with friends instead of a dance recital or something, I can’t remember.”

Your voice lowered as the memory resurfaced. “Mom got cancer when I was nine, and I think it was a few weeks after I heard something downstairs late at night. I got up and saw Daniel trying to go out the front door, suitcase in hand. I asked where he was going, all he said was that he loved me, and left. I woke Mom up…and she just cried. She cried so much I stopped crying with her and called Paul; Mr. Hunham.”

You wiped your face; tears were beginning to form but not fall. “Her parents lived in Pennsylvania, so there was no one else I could call. They were still friends even after he left Harvard. She invited him to family stuff and was basically my uncle. It was like one in the morning, I don’t know. Barton’s an hour away, but he got there in twenty minutes. I don’t know how he wasn’t pulled over. He took a week off from Barton and just stayed with us. After that, he’d make the one hour commute everyday for a few months. Every few weeks in the mail there’d be the same letter with a toy train stamp. I didn’t know this, but my mom and dad were only talking through letters, and they were getting a divorce. I didn’t even know it happened until she sat me down and told me that they did. It-it was late at night, and I just kept crying. It was over that, yeah, but-but I remember saying that I was scared Mr. Hunham was going to leave.”

Angus slipped his hand into yours, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t expect you to let out a pitiful laugh before continuing. “I was almost nine when he asked how we’d feel about moving into a house in Barton with him. I said no because I genuinely thought the only way we could live together was if my mom and him got married. So I told him that, and later, he pulled me aside saying that he promised he’d at least ask her, but wanted to give her time. I…I don’t know why I trusted him, but I did. We moved to Barton, had a small house that we only lived in for two years…and I think it was my favorite place. I drive by that house sometimes…and I really miss it.”

He squeezed your hand as if to let you know that he was still listening.

“Mary became a family friend, Curtis became my best friend…you know the rest. Mom would get better, then worse, then better again, and it just repeated. And my dad…Paul, he was good; he was really good, especially for her. It wasn’t even a year later when he asked me if he could marry her. Of course, I said yes. There wasn’t a huge wedding; it was just the three of us, Mary and Curtis, and my mom’s parents.” You chuckled, wiping your eyes. “Curtis was the ring bearer, and I was the flower girl. The men were all getting lunch together while we were getting my mom ready at church, and my grandpa wanted to see my mom’s ring so he took it from Curtis, but he dropped it down the gutter!”

“No!” Agnus laughed.

“He did! So we got two old guys freaking out, they told poor Curtis to go to the chapel and tell Mary, but he instead tells me, and my immediate response was to go to the drugstore and beg for change to buy a plastic dinosaur ring.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not!” You had to stifle your giggles. “We told Mom about the ring, but then gave her the plastic one and thought it’d be fine. She marched to the diner of course, rollers still in her hair and all. She showed them the ring, raising her voice; but, in the end, all we could do was laugh. We got someone to go down and get the actual ring, and the wedding went on…I remember she…I remember she told me that she loved every second of it more than she ever did her first wedding…She wore that plastic ring to the grave.”

There was no sound at all in your room, all but your breathing steadying out from your crying. It felt as if the world knew you needed silence.

Angus spoke up. “I would’ve like to meet her.”

“She would’ve liked you.”

“You don’t have to say that-.”

“-No,” You cut him off. “she would’ve; I wouldn’t bullshit that.”

He looked away as if it was too much. Still, he held onto you as he slunk down to lie on the bed. You followed his lead.

“She probably would’ve helped your dad not have a stick up his ass this Christmas.” He said.

You bit your tongue to not burst out in laughter but grinned from ear to ear up at the ceiling. “He still would’ve had one, but not so much.”

Angus nodded then drew his eyes up to the ceiling away from you. “You don’t-you don’t have to talk about it, but…could I ask about Daniel?”

You sighed. “He showed up to Mom’s funeral with his new pregnant wife, and we only really said hello and that was it. I can’t really remember, but I think his wife tried to talk more, but I didn’t want to. He still lived in Boston, and I never heard from him again until this past August. He sent a letter about wanting to reconnect, and I…I was stupid.” You confessed. “I didn’t want to say anything to him, but I don’t know why, I wrote him a letter and we’d just go from there. It was nothing serious, just talking about our lives. Then he started sending money; I guess he was trying to buy my forgiveness. He wanted to meet up, that was the letter you gave my dad; and no, he didn’t want us to meet at the diner.”

“I never thought that.”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

Angus reached over, placing his hand on your cheek to have you look at him. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with his shit all this time.”

“I know.” You responded exhaustedly. “I just…fuck.”

“Yeah…fuck.” The two of you fell into silence; awkward yet somehow also soothing. He soon broke it, asking. “How’re you doing now?”

“My eyes hurt from crying, but thanks for listening.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I care about you.”

It felt strange to hear that. You knew enough from your father and Mary that they would go to the ends of the earth for you; they never had to say it aloud. Still, while the foreign feeling settled in your chest like a weight, it soon eased within you as you tossed your arms around him.

“You’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me this Christmas.” You whispered.

You felt him stiffen at your words, and for a moment, you thought you said too much. Then, he sighed into your hold, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you closer.

“I’m glad I got stuck with you and not Kountze.”

“You piece of shit.” You snickered, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’ll wake you up when I gotta go back.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, still holding onto him. “I’m gonna sleep really well from bawling my eyes out.”

He kissed your cheek. “I hope so.”

“Night, Angus.”

He wished you a goodnight, whispering your name so tenderly.

You were right; you did sleep well. So well, it wasn’t the light outside that woke you up, but a knock on the connecting door. Looking over at your side, you saw that Angus was not there; which relieved you more than disheartened you.

Tossing yourself out of bed, you opened the door, revealing your father.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“My eyes still hurt a little,” you answered honestly. “but better.”

He hummed. “I ordered breakfast, would you want to get dressed and join us?”

“Sure.” You closed the door and went to change into your favorite outfit. You brought it into the bathroom, and when you stripped your nightgown off, you saw the faintest red patch in your underwear.

“Fuck.” You mumbled. Out of all the days your period could have started…at least you had packed a few things for it.

After you were ready, and after tying in one of the ribbons Angus had gotten you, you knocked on the door to let them know you were coming in, and entered the room. Angus sat on his bed, eating a plate of toast and sausages.

“How are you?” He asked immediately upon your presence.

You shrugged, loading up a plate and sitting on the bed with him. “Okay.”

The three of you sat there, eating. Again, there was a hint of discomfort in it; as if none of you slept as well as you could have, and you were too tired to make conversation. Still, in the silence, you found yourself waking up.

When breakfast was finished, you all decided to go bowling at an alley you and your mother frequented when you used to live in Boston. The weather, although still bitter cold, wasn’t as bad as it had been for the past few days, leading to you taking the subway and walking instead of splurging on another taxi.

It’d been a while since you bowled, but you were better than you remembered; albeit, not great, but your ball wasn’t going in the gutter every round. Unlike your father.

Leave it to Angus to teach his own teacher how to properly bowl. It was funny for you to sit back and watch. In many movies you watched as a teenager, it was always the boy to teach the pretty girl how to bowl; never the girl’s stepfather who is also the boy’s teacher.

“Not bad,” your father laughed once he hit a few pins. “you’re a pretty good teacher, kid. Too bad everybody dislikes you; pretty much hates you. But you must know that, right?”

You turned to Angus, smirking as if to say: ‘Now how does it feel?’. He nodded, trying not to smile. “Touché sir, touché. By the way, what eye do you aim with anyway? You know, I’ve been meaning to ask, when were talking, which one should I look at? Sometimes, I look at one,” he pointed. “but then I think I’m wrong, so I look at the other.”

Your father nodded, obviously uncomfortable but not inexperienced with the question. “Yes, everybody does that. My wife did it for a whole month after I met her.”

“So, which is it?” He laughed.

Mr. Hunham shrugged, turning to you. “Don’t you tell him.”

You mimed zipping your lips and locking them before throwing away the key. He nodded, going to take his turn.

Angus snapped his gaze to you, saying your name and drawing out the last syllable.

“Yes, Angus?” You asked.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

Your father came over soon after, saying. “I’m going to go get a drink, behave yourselves, and you can play for my turns.”

“Can I have some vodka?” You asked.

He answered, walking away. “When you’re in Europe or you’re twenty-one.”

You sighed, looking at Angus. “We’re in agreement we’re gonna screw up his bowls on purpose, right?”

“Only if you tell me which eye to look at.”

“The right one.”

“His right or my right?”

“Yes.”

He snickered. “You’re impossible.”

Getting up, you made your way to grab your ball. “Yeah, but that’s why you like me, I think.”

You bowled your set, getting a spare to your surprise and turning in victory. Angus got up, getting his own ball, waiting for the pins to come back.

“It’s one of them,” he said. “but I can handle you.”

They were simple words, and you know he probably didn’t mean for them to mean anything to you, but they did. Still, you wanted to have fun; you spent all of the night and early morning weeping, you wanted to laugh in the day.

You stayed standing as he took his turn, and he immediately got a strike. When he looked at you with the same shit-eating grin he always gave, you took one of the balls off the dispenser.

“So, what else do you like about me?” You asked, playing.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“You said that me being impossible was one of the things,” you crouched down and simply placed the bowling ball in the gutter. “so, there must be at least something else.”

Angus hummed. “You play fairly.”

Laughing as you stood, you and Angus watched as the ball was slowly beginning to approach the pins. When it quickly became boring, you both sat down back at the chairs, writing down all of your scores. As Angus was penciling in the boxes, you looked back to your father at the bar, chatting with two men. Hopefully he was making friends.

Then, when you heard light giggling, you compulsively turned to your left and saw two girls your age staring at your table. The second your eyes met theirs, they looked away in the blink of your eye.

They’d been doing that the whole damn time since you came to the alley. Your selfish yet hormonal teenage brain thought it was because of you eating utter shit at bowling, then when the fog cleared, you saw that their eyes would be on Angus.

Of course they probably assumed you were his sister or cousin or something. Because in what circumstances would a girl bring her dad and her boyfriend along? Wait shit…you weren’t technically his girlfriend; you talked about that the night before, but you had much direr things to attend to, so no shit you couldn’t talk about-.

“You okay?”

You pulled on a smile at Angus’ question, turning your head to him. “Yeah, just thought I saw something.”

His eyes went to the girls behind you for just a second before landing on yours. He took your face into his hands and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

You chuckled, pulling away. “What was that for?

“Just wanted to see if you had a temperature.”

“Why?” You began to retie your bowling shoes. “Because I’m hot?”

“Well…” He drew off, and you looked up at him with a questioning look until he sputtered out. “Jealousy’s a sickness, that’s why-.”

“-Angus!” You laughed louder than you thought possible, shaking your head.

“You’re hot too!” He tried to defend, finding your laughing contagious. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Yeah, I do.” He sat farther back in his chair, and you leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. He glanced back, then at you. “Your dad might see.”

“Do you care?”

“I mean…maybe.” He admitted. “If he’ll drop kick me into next Tuesday, then yeah.”

You sat up yet tossed your legs over his lap. “This better?”

He smiled, draping his arm over your chair. “Yeah.”

And you both sat like that for another minute until you realized that it was technically your father’s turn, and there was no way in hell you were going to let him come back and knock a few pins down.

Once he returned, and you finished the rest of your game, there was debate on going to a movie or just going to lunch. Considering this was a vacation, you opted for the more exciting of the two and decided to risk getting sick from eating a lot of popcorn; but hey, it was still food.

The only movie that seemed interesting was Little Big Man. The theater was packed as the three of you sat down, and even without knowing anything about it, the movie was pretty good. It certainly impressed your father.

“This is not only amusing,” he whispered to you sitting in between him and Angus. “but for a movie, it’s a fairly accurate depiction of life among the Cheyenne.”

Somebody shushed him before you could, only for him to whisper. “Fuck off.”

You bit your tongue to smother your laughter. Another minute passed, and you felt Angus’ mouth hover over your ear.

“Meet me out in the lobby in a few minutes.”

Before you could even turn to him, he got out of his seat and whispered to your dad. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

He nodded, not thinking anything of it. You, on the other hand, felt your body grow simultaneously cold and warm at the same time. What could he possibly have had in mind? You had an idea of course, but the thought of…doing that in public or just in general caused your stomach to tie in a million knots. Still, you had to tell him that yourself.

After what you thought was long enough, you also stood. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

That was when your father sat up. He sighed your name. “Now, I know there’s been something going on between the two of you, but-.”

“-I’m on my cycle...” Was all you could think to say. “I’m bleeding.”

Didn’t know why you said the second half and neither did your father, but that was enough for him to stop. “Oh…do you need anything?”

“You to stop talking.”

He did, leaving you to rush out of the theater. You found Angus in the lobby, and he took your hand without saying anything. Oh, but you certainly did.

“I’m not doing anything.” You stated.

He glanced over at you, heading towards the exit. “Huh?”

That’s when you stopped you and him in your tracks yet still held his hand. “I’m on my period, and even if I wasn’t, I would still beat your ass if you-.”

“-Oh my god, no!” He cut you off. “I don’t…look,” he rested his hands on your shoulders. “I haven’t been honest. I’m a prick for not telling you sooner, and I wanted to say something last night, but it wasn’t about me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just trust me.” He led you outside, and you were welcomed to a line of waiting taxis. Angus immediately began making a beeline to the farthest one.

You pulled yourself out of his grasp, saying all the way. “What the fuck? No! What are you doing?!”

“I’ll explain on the way.” He turned to you, huffing. “Just please-.”

“-No! You’re telling me right here and now.”

“Hey!”

Your heads snapped over to the theater, where you father was then sprinting across the street and over to both of you. Angus got into the taxi before you could even say anything, only for you then to yank the door open when your father finally came by.

“Get out.” He commanded.

“I just need to do something.” Angus resisted. “We were gonna come back-.”

“-Where the hell were we even going?!” You fired back.

He didn’t even acknowledge you. “I can go on my own. It won’t take long, it’s nothing bad.”

“So why’d you even ask me in the first place?”

“Stop it!” Your father had enough, then looked at Angus. “Just get out, you conniving little shit! Were you planning this the whole time? Just counting the minutes until I turned my back?”

“I wasn’t running away.” Angus softened, the pain in his voice only growing with each word. “There’s just something I need to do before we go back to school. Please. You could come with me, just come with me, okay?”

“Come with you where?”

“…To see my dad.”

Your heart began to crack like ice on a river in the early days of spring. If only he had told you earlier, you would have gone without a second guess.

“Your dad?” Your own father sighed. “That’s what this is about? What didn’t you just ask me? Because, of course, we can visit a cemetery.”

Slowly, Angus dropped his gaze from both of you. You thought his disbelief was from your father saying ‘yes’, but then tears began to fall, and it didn’t even look like he knew they were. You crouched to his height, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, not looking at you. “He’s not dead.”

The crack in your heart spontaneously shattered it just with three little words. Still, you had to ask with one.

“What?”

“He’s at Pinehills…”

You dropped your hand from him. The sanatorium…you’d never been, only heard of it once or twice. Your father read your shock and spoke for you.

“Okay, we’ll go. Scoot over.”  Angus did so, and your father sat in the middle, looking up at you. “Come on.”

As if you weren’t in your own body, you shook your head. “I-I think I’ll walk back-.”

“-We’re not splitting up,” he said your name gently. “that’s final. Get in.”

You didn’t put up much of a fight, and sat down, shutting the door.

Leaning against the glass, you watched as Boston, once again, passed by you. The car was deathly silent. In situations like this, you would at least look around you, but no; you couldn’t even muster the strength to lift your head, and you felt yourself beginning to cramp.

Skyscrapers soon turned into trees farther out of the city you drove. The sanatorium was just a large stone building, more like a prison than a hospital. After your father paid the driver, the three of you entered.

As your dad spoke to the receptionist, Angus slipped his hand into yours.

You swiftly pulled it away, not even meeting his eyes.

An orderly came out and led the three of you up a set of stairs. You stopped in front of a door, and the orderly gave just a single look to you and your father. You kept your head low, but your father nodded at Angus, and the boy entered with the orderly.

You and your father sat in the waiting room on a bench together, saying nothing. The whiplash of the entire day began to weigh on your shoulders, and so did the entirety of the night prior. The tightening in your lower abdomen only added to everything, and it was your father’s hand on your back that made you break.

“Are you okay?” He questioned.

 “I have to go to the bathroom.”

You stood up and ignored his pleas as he followed after you. Just as you were outside of the woman’s restroom, a stabbing pain struck you like a flash of lighting. Doubling over yourself, you clutched where your uterus lay, tears springing free as you sunk to the floor.

“Hey, hey,” your dad rubbed your shoulders, kneeling in front of you. “what is it?”

“It hurts.” You sobbed.

“Period?” He asked. You could only nod. He turned to a nurse who approached the commotion. “Does the hospital have anything help with the pain? Tylenol?”

“I have some in my purse.” She raced down the hall.

Your father shushed you, holding you tightly. “I know, I know. She’ll be back soon.”

“It-it’s not just that.” You hiccupped.

He ran his hand up and down your back. “What else is it?”

“I-I-I-I.” you stammered.

“Breathe,” he said. “just breathe.”

You copied him when he inhaled deeply, then exhaled softly. When you felt air returning to your lungs, you finally found your words.

“I hate him.” You hiccupped. “I hate that he left mom, and-and that he didn’t want to talk to me until now, and-and-and that he brought his stupid wife and his stupid kids that won’t do anything with their life because they’re just as dumb as he is! I-I hate that Mary’s alone, and-and that Curtis is dead, and that he even had to go in the first place! I hate that he lied, and that he said we would be friends, but he didn’t-he didn’t even tell me this, but I told him everything.”

Your father rocked you back and forth ever so subtly as you cried. He rubbed circles into your shoulder. “You’ve had a lot going on, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

He pulled away only slightly, just so you could look at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve protected you as much as I should have, and even then, some of these things, I couldn’t; no matter how much I’d give to. You are…god,” he said your name. “you are your mother’s daughter. I hate that so much of you and her strength have had to come from people who hurt you; and I wish I could tell you this is the last time you’ll have to feel like this, but I don’t want to lie to you. But, I just want you to know, and I mean this with my whole heart: I wouldn’t be able to overcome the things you are handling right now when I was your age. Girls are forced and socialized to grow up faster than boys; it’s not solely a biological factor, it’s also a societal one, and it’s not fair. I don’t know if it matters, but I’m so proud of who you have become; raging spirit and all.”

You still were crying, but not just in sorrow; now, overwhelming adoration was added. Wiping your nose on your sleeve, you sat against the wall.

“Why didn’t he tell us?” You asked.

“I don’t entirely know,” he sat beside you. “but I believe shame is the main part.”

“He lied.” You shook your head. “I wouldn’t have judged him if he told the truth.”

“Would you have told him about Daniel if he didn’t show up?”

You went silent, already knowing your answer. Sighing, you rested your head on his shoulder. “I’m going to mourn Mom and Curtis longer than I’ll have known them…and if I think about that too much, I can’t sleep.”

Your father leaned his head on top of yours. “Then I’ll be mourning with you, and so will Mary.”

“Until you won’t be.”

“Then you’ll mourn with your husband, your children, your friends, hell, mourn with ten cats and dogs if you don’t have any of those other things later on in life.”

That managed to crack a smile. “Shut up.”

“It’s not human nature for us to be alone.” He said. “Even to those so called ‘antisocials’ or ‘loners’. You will always have someone to share a life with; even if it is those copious amounts of animals you’ll have.”

The nurse came by finally, holding a few pills in her hand, and a glass of water in another. “Sorry I took so long.”

You shook your head, taking them from her. “Just in time, thanks.”

Swallowing the Tylenol, you gave her the glass and she walked away. Your father stood up and reached his hand out to you. You took it and stood up, wiping the tears off your face.

“Do I look like shit?” You asked.

He shook his head. “You look like your mother.”

The two of you walked back down the hallway, and when you turned the corner, you saw Angus come out of the room he had gone into previously. He turned over to his left and he locked eyes with you first.

His eyes were red, yet no tears had fallen.

You left your father’s side and walked down the hallway, enveloping your arms around Angus. He latched onto you as soon as he felt your touch, and only then, hiding his face in your shoulder, did you hear him cry for the first time.

The three of you left the same when you entered; although, worse for wear. Angus mirrored what you had done prior to coming; staring out the window and not looking at anything else the whole time.

You had gone to a fancier restaurant as a final ‘hurrah’ of your Boston field trip, and to finally see Mary again after two long days without her. The three of you were quiet at the table, only truly talking when the waitress came. Your father attempted to make conversation, but it was apparent, after the days you both had, neither you nor Angus were in the mood.

Yet, after it seemed like you would all be silent until Mary arrived…

“He used to be fine; better than fine.” Angus began, staring down at the table before looking up. “He was my dad. Then about four years ago, he started acting strange; like, erratic, forgetful, saying all this weird shit. My mom took him to a bunch of doctors, and they put him on medication. But that just made it worse. He got more confused. And then he got angry, and then he got...physical. And that was the last straw. They put him away. Then she divorced him. Without him even realizing it. That’s why she wants a whole new life. And it’s easy to just stash me away in a boarding school, like half of us there are just stashed away. And I get it; she never has to look at me, because maybe when she looks at me, she…she sees him.”

You held his hand under the table the whole time, not knowing what else to do.

Your father shook his head at the statement Angus made. “No, no, no, no. That can’t be true, she…you’re her son.”

“Maybe she’s right.” Angus shook his head too. “I can’t keep it together. I lie, I steal, I piss people off. I only have one friend, a real friend, and even then I was a piece of shit, I’ll probably get kicked out of Barton too; and when I do, it’ll be my own fault. Get sent to Fork Union and maybe to you-know-where; and nobody will care.”

Except you would. You would lose someone else a second, horrible time. The thought alone brought tears to your eyes, but you forced them away; this wasn’t about you.

“And the funny thing is…” Angus trailed off. “I wanted to see him so bad this whole time….But I also didn’t, you know? Because I’m afraid that’s what’s gonna happen to me one day.”

“Angus,” your dad soothed. “listen. You’re not your father.”

“How do you know?”

“Because no one is their own father.” He shook his head. “I’m not my dad, no matter how hard he tried to beat that idea into me. The girl you’re sitting next to is neither me nor her biological father, and I’m thankful for both every day.” His eyes began to drift. “I find the world a bitter and complicated place, and it seems to feel the same way about me. I think we all have this in common. Don’t get me wrong, you have your challenges. You’re erratic and belligerent and a gigantic pain in the balls, but you’re not me, and you’re not your father. You’re your own man.” He scoffed, rewording. “Man. No. You’re just a kid. You’re just beginning. And you’re smart. You’ve got time to turn things around.”

You and Angus stared at him as if he was a priest giving the best sermon of his life. He went on.

“Sure, the Greeks had the idea that the steps you take to avoid your fate are the very steps that lead to it, but that’s just a literary conceit. In real life, your history does not have to dictate your destiny.” He looked over at you specifically. “And I hope you know this too, Josephine March; this isn’t just a boy’s club philosophy.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “Noted.”

He returned your smile, and then his eyes fell behind you. “Oh, there’s Mary.”

You and Angus looked over and saw her entering. Angus said. “Can you not tell Mary or anybody about-.”

“-Entre nous.” Your father interrupted. “This whole damn trip is entre nous. Stand up.”

“What?” You both uttered.

“Stand for the lady, you boors. You cretins.”

You did as you were asked, and Mary sat down once she was at the table.

“Thank you, sorry I’m late.” She squeezed your shoulder as she sat by you. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine.” You smiled. “Just happy you’re here.”

The host handed Mary the menu and the waitress came back. “Hello ma’am, would you like a cocktail to start?”

“Oh no, I’ll just take a cup of tea.” Mary said.

“Oh, come on, have a cocktail.” Your father insisted.

“No, no, a cup of tea is fine, I’ve eaten already.”

“And you three?” She asked the rest of you. “Did you save room for dessert?”

Your gaze drifted over to a nearby table where the waiter was holding a saucepan completely on fire. You asked. “What’s that?”

“That’s out signature dessert, cherries jubilee.”

Angus smiled, just as entranced as you were. “That sounds great.”

Your father laughed. “Bring the young vandals here cherries jubilee.”

She made a face. “I’m afraid I can’t; the dish contains brandy.”

If you had half a mind like some people you knew (Teddy, Daniel, the majority of the male population, etc.), you would have said aloud: “I’ve had stronger shit than that.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t the alcohol just burn off?” Mary asked as if she wasn’t an excellent cook.

“It’s still against the rules, ma’am.”

“Fine,” your father sighed. “I’ll order the cherries jubilee, we can share it.”

“I can’t allow that either.”

Mary pointed between you and Angus. “Can we say it’s their birthday?”

“Yeah, we’re twins!” You leaned over so your face and Angus’s were side by side. “It’s our birthday.”

She chuckled. “Happy birthday. Let’s get you two slices of cake or some other age-appropriate desserts.”

“Christ on a crutch!” Your dad cursed. “What kind of fascist hash foundry are you running here?”

Mary put her hand on his arm to stop him from further pissing off the waitress. “Excuse me ma’am, do you by any chance have cherries?”

“…Yes.” She answered.

“Great, and do you have ice cream?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic, can we please get cherries and ice cream to go?”

“And the check?” Your father added.

“Right away.”

Once she was out of sight, Mary muttered. “Bitch.”

You snickered. “Hey don’t swear; Jesus was born two days ago.”

“If Jesus had to deal with her, he’d say the same thing.” She sighed.

“Now who’s committing blasphemy?!”

When the check was brought alongside the cherries and ice cream, the four of you put on your coats and left; not without you and Angus grabbing enough spoons. In the parking lot, your father opened the box and poured the remaining bourbon out of his flask.

“Is this a good idea?” You asked, only then realizing you would have to light a box on fire.

“No Josephine,” your father said. “it’s a great idea. Go on.”

Mary, with a cigarette in her mouth, stroke a match and dropped it onto the dessert. It burst into flames.

“Presto! Cherries Jubilee!”

“Cool!” You cheered. “How do we eat it?”

“It should go out…”

It did not go out; instead, the box actually caught on fire.

Mary gasped. “How much alcohol did you put in there?!”

A series of curses all left your lips, and your father tried to grab a flap of one of the boxes but let go of the heat. It fell onto the concrete, but when there was no sighn of danger, you all looked at each other in a beat of silence, then laughed.

Once the failed cherries jubilee went out, all of you just decided to get ice cream at the hotel. Mary would be sleeping there that night since you would leave in the morning. Once you reached the hotel, and the four of you were walking two by two (you with your dad and Mary with Angus), you lowered your voice.

“I need to talk with Angus.” You told your dad. “Just for a second outside. We’re not gonna run away or anything-.”

“-I know.” He said. “Just maybe keep it down to a few minutes? It’s freezing and I want to go to bed.”

You nodded and stopped once you were right outside the hotel. You grabbed Angus’ arm to stop him and he looked at you with a quizzical look. When she noticed her companion wasn’t behind her, Mary also looked at you.

You smiled. “I just need to steal him for a minute.”

She hummed. “Don’t be too long, I want my ice cream.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Both adults went into the hotel, leaving you and Angus outside. It wasn’t as cold as everyone was making it out to be; but hey, Mary and your dad were old so that’s probably why.

“What do you wanna talk about?” Angus asked.

“You got a cigarette?”

He seemed a bit confused at first, but nodded, taking out a pack and handing you one. He got out a lighter from his other pocket, lighting it for you. You took a few puffs before handing it to him, and he took it, thanking you.

“I’m sorry.” You began.

Angus furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“At the hospital,” you explained, taking the cigarette when he handed it back. “I pulled my hand away from you. You were hurting and I was a bitch about it.”

He shook his head. “I lied to you.”

“You did, but that doesn’t mean I should’ve reacted that way.” You sighed. “I was just…I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, even before I was homeschooled. The friends I did have would make plans to meet up without me in front of me, or would make snide comments about my hair, the books I liked, stupid stuff like that. I was kind of a know it all in class, so I don’t blame them that much, but still. And I…I never knew anyone else who’d lost a parent; at least, I wasn’t close with anyone who did. And I’m…I’m glad your dad is alive; I was just really blindsided.”

Angus nodded, taking the cigarette from you. After taking a drag, he paused before saying. “I told him about you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah…about what I liked about you.” He smiled gently. “That you’re smarter than me, you’re funny, nice-.”

“-I’m not really.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Then so are you,” You countered, leaning against the wall and taking the cigarette. “and I don’t know why you keep insisting you aren’t.”

He mirrored you. “…I don’t know either.”

You dropped the cigarette once it was finished, stomping it out. “For the record, I think you’re really sweet.”

He snorted. “Now that’s funny.”

“Will you shut up for a second?” You sighed. “You don’t have to be Audrey Hepburn. I mean, shit, you got me a book just because I couldn’t find mine. You…you put up with the bullshit I gave you early on, and didn’t judge me about Daniel. So don’t you dare tell me you’re not sweet.”

He nodded, staring up at the sky, and for a moment, you thought you saw tears prick his eyes the more you went on. When you were finished, he wrapped his arms around you without warning. Still, it was not unwelcome.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I should have told you.”

“I get why you didn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t fair to you.”

It wasn’t, he was right about that. Still, how could you hold it against him? With a sigh, all you said was.

“Mothers and fathers…”

He nodded. “Mothers and fathers.”

His mom shipped him off to boarding school to forget about him, his dad was essentially dead to the world around him.

Your mother was dead period, and your father wanted to forget about you when you didn’t want to forget about him…

A strange parallel you two were. Perhaps you were always meant to find one another out of the billions of people on earth.

“Could I ask you something?” Angus spoke up. You hummed in response. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

He asked as if he genuinely didn’t know the answer.

You pulled away, kissing his cheek. “As long as you don’t pretend I’m not when everyone comes back to school.”

“Never thought of it.”

The two of you stayed there in each other’s arms for just a little longer. When you both decided it was time to go in, you separated and walked hand in hand back into the hotel.

[beefrobeefcal]

Being Neighbourly feat. Frankie Morales x neighbour f!reader

a HeftyThrowaway one shot drabble | Rated: 18+ | word count: 1,681 warnings: f masterbation, feeding, belly rubs, belly kink, oblivious people liking each other

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday, y'all! Here's a ditty that's been sitting in my wips for months. It's not Mouse and Frankie, but similar dynamic.

It was only a matter of time until you fell for one of your neighbours. And in doing so, you had proven that food was the way into a man’s heart… or bed.  

It started when you cooked up a batch of meatballs to freeze for future use on a Saturday afternoon. You had all the windows open to avoid overheating your apartment. Leaning out the window that faced the parking lot of your complex, you watched as Frankie parked his truck. As he walked towards the building, he looked around then up and waved at you. 

You gave a small smile and a wave, thinking that would be the end of it, when he called out to you. 

“Hey! Neighbour! Uh… is that you making something that smells good?” 

“Just meatballs.”, you called back. 

“Just meatballs, my ass. They smell amazing!” He looked like he wanted to say more but just smiled back at you. 

“Thank you! Um… do you want one?”, you said back, not sure why you only offered one when you had four trays of them. But his eager nodding and scampering into the building made you happy you did. 

You’d seen Frankie around the building in the usual places you meet your neighbours: the laundry room, the parking lot, the mailboxes. He was tall and lean minus the small tummy he sported, but still looked like he hadn’t had the comfort of a home cooked meal in a while. He seemed sweet and helpful, once even helping you bring your groceries up the stairs when the elevator was out of service. He lived in the suite right below you, and some nights, you’d hear him and another male voice out on the balcony, enjoying a blunt or a cigarette. Beyond that, you didn’t know much about him. 

After the initial introduction to Frankie as a guinea pig for your cooking, you found him to be quite handy to have around. For every issue you had in your suite that the landlord had ignored, Frankie had a fix. For every fix, you had a thank you meal ready for him. This became a regular occurrence and slowly turned into either you made enough food for both you and him then delivered it to his suite, or him joining you for dinner and you giving him the leftovers. This carried on for a while, and you noticed that Frankie’s small tummy was not so small anymore. The topic came up after he completely annulated an entire baking dish of your home-made enchiladas in one go. 

Sitting back at your table, his belly pushed out and stuffed, he sighed a little laugh. “Fuck, I just can’t help myself. You cook too good.” 

All you could do was smile and look down, trying to stop him from seeing the bashful glee on your face. You’d watched him eat the entire thing and all you wanted to do was go to his side, rub his stuffed belly, and feed him yourself. It had been a running theme in your head when you laid in bed at night, vibrator on high while you cried out his name. You’d never gotten off on anything like this, but it worked. You just wished it wasn’t a fantasy. 

“I mean it. I had to get new pants last week. Not that I’m complaining at all about your food.”, he reasoned, making sure you knew that he was not upset. “But if we’re gonna continue to be neighbours, I need a spandex wardrobe.” 

You both laughed at his little joke as he rubbed his belly, signalling an end to this topic. But god damn it, you wished you could just reach out and touch it, feel his belly and tell him he’s got more room in there, and then feed him. But you didn’t, and he continued to come around throughout the week for dinner; you both played this same routine: you made the food, and he ate it. It wasn’t lost on you that Frankie liked to eat, but what you didn’t notice was how much he really liked that it was you feeding him.  

On one Saturday summer night, you were sitting on your balcony, far later than you normally would be, enjoying a sangria. You heard the sliding door open below you from Frankie’s and could hear him and that other male voice talking.  

“Drop it, Pope.” 

“Dude, I can tell. It’s written all over your fucking face when she comes up. You’ve got it bad for this chick.“ 

“Fine. Yes. Happy?” 

“Sure. But you have to tell her. There’s no way-“ 

“Yeah, and have her laugh in my face? She’s not into me like that.” 

“And how the fuck would you know?” 

“Because she’s too fucking gorgeous and out of my league.” 

Your heart dropped; Frankie was head over heels for someone - someone who wasn’t you. Before you could quietly leave your balcony and mope inside, you heard the other voice, Pope, say, “No one feeds you like that if they don’t at least like you, Francisco.” 

You froze.  

Frankie sighed. “Fuck you, man.” 

“All I’m saying is if a beautiful woman like that keeps inviting you back to her table when you’re getting fat on her cooking, you’re in. You just got to make a move.” 

The last thing you heard Frankie say as they began their exit from the balcony was, “Shit, Pope. I’m fucking hungry.”, followed by the two men laughing. 

You sat silently on your balcony and let a breath out that you didn’t realize you were holding in. You ventured inside and laid in your bed.  

**** 

You had made yourself scarce the rest of the weekend, no sure how to interact with him after what you had heard, but you’d returned home exhausted from work on the following Monday to find a note on your door form Frankie that read: 

Want to go out for dinner? You can have a night off.  

x F  

You grinned to yourself, hopeful that this was Frankie trying to make a move and went into your apartment, got changed into a more casual outfit, and headed down to Frankie’s. 

He opened the door and gave you a big smile while telling you where he was going to take you - his favourite Tex-Mex restaurant.  

The car ride over started a little awkward, but you soon fell into an easy conversation. 

“So why the dinner out? Sick of my cooking?”, you poked, watching to see how he would react. 

“Fuck no!”, Frankie barked out laughing. “I just figured that maybe I could get dinner for you, and since there’s not a snowflake’s chance in hell that I could even compare to you in the kitchen, I thought I’d take you to my favourite place to eat… other than your table, of course.” 

You felt your cheeks turn pink and you could feel Frankie smiling at you. You felt bold as you thought of what you’d heard on Saturday night and wanted to test the waters. 

You reached out and put your hand on his that was on the gear stick. “Thank you, Frankie. You’ll have to show me your favourites on the menu.” 

Frankie sucked in a breath at your touch and nodded. “Yeah… uh, I pretty much like everything they have.” 

You smiled and nodded. 

***** 

“Recommendations?”, you asked looking over your menu. 

“Well, like I said, I pretty much like everything. But my favourites are, uh, the burritos and fajitas. Can’t go wrong with those, and the elote is great, too.” 

Once again, you felt bold. Without the restrictions of what you had cooked and the ingredients you had on hand, Frankie could really let himself loose in here and you were more than happy to encourage him. 

“How about you order, Frankie? I normally decide what I’m cooking, so you get to decide tonight. Order to your heart’s content – I’m in.”, you say, leaning forward and cocking your head. 

Frankie’s eyebrows twitched and his lips parted. His tongue flicked out and he nodded. “You sure you’re up for that? It’ll be a lot of food.” 

“I’ll be fine, Frankie. The question really is will you be okay. Because food is more of a spectator’s sport for me when I’m with you.”, you say with a wink.  

Frankie just stared back at you, his breathing getting quicker. His brain was trying to wrap around that fact that Pope was right: you were into him and like to feed him. He thought he’d died and gone to heaven. 

Before he could pinch himself, the waitress approached the table. Frankie placed the order – it was a lot of food - and you just sat back and smirked as he spoke. 

“You sure you’re gonna be able to handle all that, Frankie?”, you questioned with a wry smile and teasing tone. 

Frankie gave you a flirtatious grin and took your hand. “Yeah, and there’ll even be room for dessert.” 

By the time Frankie had eatten two plates of food, he was sitting back in the booth, finishing his pop.  

“How’re you doing? You still got another plate.”, you gave him a coquettish smile, pushing the plate forward to him. 

“Oh, honey. I’m full.”, Frankie chuckled, patting his belly. 

He watched as you got out of your side of the booth and slid in next to him. Throughout the meal, you and Frankie dropped silent hints as to where you both wanted this to go. You again felt emboldened and reached out to rub his belly. He watched you, his eyes pleading with you to keep going. 

You leaned in and purred into his ear before nuzzling it with your nose, “Oh, Frankie. You’re not that full, are you?” 

Frankie shivered and gulped. Once he had cleared the last plate, Frankie huffed out a breath and tried to hide a small burp. You sat at his side, continuing to console his overstuffed tummy, and gave him a kiss on his cheek. 

“What’s next?”, Frankie asked, looking at you with a lazy smile.  

--------<3---------

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

lady and the tramp spaghetti kiss but with deuce’s mom and lilia 🫣

I'm yoinking this idea for the unofficial blog event 🤡

(Quick clarification: Mrs. Spade being an ex-delinquent is a headcanon! I just thought it’d be an interesting concept, so I incorporated it into her character.)

Curiouser and Curiouser...

When Lilia mentions to his son that he's planning on cooking for the "lady friend" he's seeing, Silver steps in to stop his dad from poisoning the poor woman. "You should try a restaurant, get to know one another better before volunteering to share your... talent with her," Silver advises as lightly as he can. Thankfully for him (and for his dad's date), Lilia relents.

He decides to take his date to Tony's, a laid-back family friendly pizza and pasta joint in town. Lilia brings along his own candle—blessed with Malleus’s almost apocalyptic green fire (imagine that, a horned fairy godmother in pitch black robes)—to decorate their table, as well as a crystal vase with a single red rose (provided from the Heartslabyul Gardens by Cater, wanting to support his fellow Light Music Club member. “Knock’m dead with your charm, Lils!”)

Kalim had wanted to contribute something to Lilia’s date night, but unfortunately a huge parade of animals, while impressive, wouldn’t squeeze into Tony’s. Instead, Kalim went shopping with Lilia to help him get all dripped out for the occasion! “I’ll pay for whatever you want, so have at it!” (It was Jamil who had to limit Lilia’s spending and stopped him from buying medieval battle armor. “Why would you wear this to a date?! Are you trying to kill them? Just wear something practical and casual!”)

Lilia thought he’d be the first at the venue, but he's actually been beaten to the punch. She's easy to spot because of her hair--a bob, striped blonde and dark blue--and her spade earring. Lips painted, eyes done up. Her leather jacket is open to reveal a cute white rabbit logo (most likely a freebie T-shirt from work), paired with jeans (ripped at the knees) and ankle boots.

"You're early, Dylla," he remarks, slipping into the seat across from her and placing the candle and vase on the table. She smiles and says, "I'd never be late for a very important date."

Lilia asks if Dylla was waiting for long. According to her, she was at the restaurant over 15 minutes ago but "not to worry" because she was just talking to her son over the phone to pass the time. Dylla mentions that her son can be such a worrywart sometimes. "He was reminding me to stay safe and to let you know that he'll be on your ass if you make me sad," Dylla says with a laugh. "Oh my, I'd better not let your smile waver then," Lilia replies easily.

While they're looking over the menus, Lilia mentions his own "prodigious" cooking. (According to him, his son Silver just can't get enough of it!! Once, Silver took one bite and immediately passed out from how "good" it was.) "It's a required skill for single parents," Dylla agrees. "I can cook myself, but mainly simple dishes. My Deuce enjoys eggs, so I usually make things with those. It helps that they're cheap and keep for a long time too." (She says that she'd love to try his food, and in return she'll make something for him too! They make a promise to get to it someday.)

They settle on ordering the same item: Starry Night Spaghetti, a plate of spaghetti with meatballs. (There’s a story that two dogs once had the same dish under the stars, and became closer than ever as a result!) “A shame we aren’t eating outside—then we’d be bonded just like the canine couple,” Lilia says.

During the wait for their food, they exchange crazy stories about their lives. Lilia shocks Dylla with tales of his travels and of his past as a war veteran (although he's a little vague about the details), and Dylla tells him all about her days as an ex-delinquent and biker chick. "Kufufu, looks can be quite deceiving," Lilia chuckles. "No one would dare suspect such sweet-faced people like us to be so troublesome~"

Of course, they also share stories about their sons! Who can forget when Deuce used to wear all those rabbit-themed clothes as a kid? How about the time Silver fought a family of bears and came out of the battle with three new friends?

Lilia scootches his seat closer so he can show off some pictures of him and Silver on his phone! Dylla's shoulder presses against Lilia’s as she leans in to look, squishing the two into their own personal bubble, seemingly putting them in a world far away from the noisy pizzeria.

They decide to take pics together to commemorate the date! Dylla learns a lot of things from Lilia (like flipping the camera lenses to take better selfies, how to use the timing feature, and what filters do). They take a normal picture, then one with silly faces (Lilia’s suggestion) and a third with silly poses (also Lilia’s suggestion).

He busts out his bagpipes at some point to romance her with a romantic (?) serenade. Lilia does a little jig with it—something he threw together on the spot with knowledge of different styles of dancing from various cultures. The other customers mistake him for a paid performer and start clapping along and cheering—and Dylla joins in, clapping and cheering the loudest of them all.

Lilia starts to ask if they’d like an encore, if and so, which instrument? Mandolin or accordion? He can play them all! A member of the wait staff comes over to gently ask that Lilia put away his instruments, so then Lilia tries to sing without any musical accompaniment: “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, thaaat’s amoreeeeee 🎵”

He gets shut down a second time because, “Sir, your screeching is making the children at the next table over cry.” (Dylla gets a real kick out of Lilia’s enthusiasm though! “I can’t remember the last time a man was passionate enough to sing his heart out, consequences be damned!”)

When the food finally arrives, they realize that the chef must have made a mistake—there’s one plate of spaghetti, as though both of their orders were combined onto a single massive serving. But hey, Lilia’s willing to roll with it and just eat off the same plate. “What do you know, it’s family style!” he jokes. “In the Land of Crimson Long, it’s common for restaurants to serve food this way. You just pick out the portion you want to serve yourself.”

So that’s just what they do—stabbing their forks into the spaghetti at opposite ends and eating from that. Lilia’s appetite is healthy (he’s getting sauce on his mouth and is sucking up the noodles with such speed that a stray one slaps him in the face), but Dylla's got something on her mind.

She keeps winding her spaghetti around and around on her fork, lost in thought and doubts. Dylla wonders about a great deal of things. When is the right time to introduce this man to Deuce? How would he take it, especially when he’s gone without a father for his whole life? Was she even deserving of another husband, and someone as wonderful as Lilia?

Dylla absentmindedly brings the noodles to her mouth. There’s a slight tug at the other end (a stubborn clump, maybe?) but she pays it no mind, far too fixated on her thoughts. She doesn’t realize what’s happening until she feels something on her lips—and finds Lilia’s wide-eyed stare trained on her.

They hurriedly pull back from one another, and from the spaghetti-stained kiss. Dylla's slightly panicked and profusely apologetic, but Lilia reassures her that it’s fine, neither of them were anticipating it—and if anything, the guilt is split 50-50! “Guess we’ll both have to be sentenced for our grave crime!”

“… Oh, one moment. You have something here.” Lilia runs a thumb along the margins of Dylla's lower lip. It’s just some stray spaghetti sauce and lipstick smudges, but the gesture, however small, feels very tender and intimate, even moreso than the kiss. His hand lingers for maybe a second longer than it should have, but he, at last, retreats with a playful grin. “There you are, good as new.”

They fistfight to be the first one to the bill (their reasoning being, “it must be hard for you as a fellow single parent, let ME foot the full thing!”). Being fae, Lilia has the advantage with superior strength and speed, but Dylla gives him a good run for his money. They fight ends with Lilia headlocking his date and seizing the check in his mouth, puncturing the paper with his fangs.

Before any wallets can be opened, their (deeply exasperated) waiter asks them to “please just leave”, not even caring if they pay or not. (He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with shenanigans like this 💦)

They exit Tony’s and enter the night. There’s a full moon out to illuminate their way as they walk to Dylla's waiting magical wheel. As she produces her keys, Lilia tucks the red rose that had been with them at heir dining table behind her left ear. “May the Night guide you,” he says cryptically. Dylla isn’t sure what it means, but it makes the heat rise to her cheeks anyway. He sure knows how to sweet talk, his way into someone’s heart.

She asks Lilia where his ride is and he nonchalantly says that he “flew in”, which just leaves her slack jawed (until he cracks yet another classic Dad Joke with, “and boy, are my arms tired!”). “Well, if you’re up for it, I’d love to give you a lift home,” Dylla offers. “There’s plenty of room for another person.”

“If you could take me to Silver’s dorm, that would be great—but how scandalous! We disturb the public peace, don’t pay for our meal, then make a quick getaway on a motor vehicle?” Lilia climbs aboard, looping his arms around his date. “I think we’re shaping up to be quite the criminal couple.”

Dylla revs up her magical wheel, which lets out a monstrous groan. They peel off and merge into the road, racing the stars and sky that housed them, their peals of laughter filling the night. It was definitely one to remember.

[thatguywhofedme]

Hi Hi 💙🖤💙!

A little something you should know about me is that I really, really like pasta. I can never get enough of the stuff. They're so easy to make and you can do so much with it. So many carbs being loaded into my body along with other delicious sides like meatballs and garlic bread. It's always so good!

Because of the fact that I put a lot of carbs into my body, it was brought up during my last doctor's visit (which was, like, a while ago). Despite that, my love for pasta has never diminished. I recently had big bowls of pasta for lunch, 3 days in a row, and i couldn't stop thinking about how it'll effect my body. It kinda makes me want to eat more of it. I need to figure out ways to fill each dish with so many more calories, always guaranteeing that it will make my body worse!

Mmmmh I love your style ❤️

I'm a big fan of pasta too, whether we're talking about marinara with meatballs, Alfredo or just plain old mac n cheese with loooooots of butter and a load more cheese and like you said, the amount of side dishes you can add with them are unlimited at this point

All this potential to fatten your ass up even more and you can add ANYTHING with your pasta to make them even more fattening, whether we're talking about cooking cream, garlic butter or even pure lard

And I love the fact that even the doctor talking about it isn't enough to make you stop eating more of them, loading your body with so much carbs you'll be full 24/7 without even trying

I'm sure your body is fattening up at an incredible rate with the amount of pasta you're eating, you'll be winded after each stuffing, barely able to breath and even less so moving your fat ass around

At this rate, you'll be immobile in no time, getting fed pasta to suppress your gluttonous body at all time

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 11

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut, kinda semi public/very public smut, daddy!emily, two idiots in denial but slowly realizing it, minor talk of past hurt/angst/relationships. some more foreshadowing and parallels from previous chapters (v interested to see if y'all pick up on them...) sergio being a little shipper/instigator. House pictured is yn's, i have a real estate link i'll add later thanks to the constant glitching from earlier. Also the triple stars *** mean it’s the next week. The * means time passage same day. I AM PUTTING A READMORE IN, IF IT DOESN'T WORK AGAIN THAT IS NOT ON ME IT IS ON THE HELLSITE AND I AM SO SORRY.

It was incredibly easy to fall into a routine with Emily in the following weeks.

You’d leave work on Fridays, sometimes at the same time, but never together, always making sure to say goodnight to everyone as if you weren’t about to spend the night together. The first week Emily had left Sergio extra food, and since your place was closer to the BAU, you spent it there. The following you ended up back at Emily’s and the habit was made to make the trip to D.C every Friday.

Emily would claim it was because Sergio destroyed a couch cushion and puked on the entry way rug in retaliation of being left out of take out night but you knew it was because she liked her own bed better. You had to admit, you weren’t complaining about it at all, her bed was comfier, bigger too and she had a larger selection of toys. The unspoken argument was that because it was further in miles from Quantico, it felt it, you felt less like you were breaking the no fraternizing rule, when you were there you were still wrapped in the safety of your Vegas bubble.

***

You were fresh out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel, hair pulled up to keep it out of the way when your phone buzzed on the basin counter.

‘I dunno about you but after that fucking hell I am absolutely not cooking tonight.’

‘Are you still at work!?’

‘Last minute budget meeting.’ She inserted an eye roll emoji, ‘I’m just getting in the car now.’

‘Well you just take your pretty ass home, uncork a bottle of wine and relax, I’ll worry about dinner. What’re you feeling?’

‘You were in field training all day; I’m not making you cook.’

‘Never said anything about cooking. I drive right past Carmine’s on the way to your place.’

‘Sounds perfect. See you in forty?’

‘Maybe a teeny bit longer, I’m literally still dripping from the shower.’

‘Won’t be the only time you’re dripping tonight.’

‘Emily!’

*

Dinner was eaten on the couch that night, a little bit of extra relaxation for everyone, more physically for you and mentally for Emily. Leaning forward she picked up her wine glass from the coffee table, replacing it with the mainly eaten container of carbonara before she settled back against the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. You had your back resting against the arm of the couch, your legs extended across her lap, container of classic spaghetti and meatballs in your lap. You let out a small groan, shifting your legs and stretching out one of your calves before it cramped and Emily chuckled.

“Morgan put you through the ringer?”

“Honestly not as bad as I expected.” You laughed, letting out a happy hum as she began to gently massage the muscles.

“Probably helps you guys work out together.”

“Yeah. And my cardio is better than his, I can run circles around him.”

“I’ll make sure I don’t work you too hard tonight then.” She said with a grin and you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes.

“How kind of you.”

You were distracted momentarily when Sergio leapt up onto the couch beside you, crawling into what open space your lap had and you greeted him with a gentle scratch behind the ears. He leant into it with a soft meow and your hand shifted to under his chin while you cooed at him for a moment. Emily watched with a soft smile, her hands still gently rubbing at your skin, not only could she get used to this, she already had and it was after only three weeks. Your gaze had drifted from Sergio back up to the television, your fingers absentmindedly picking at the leftover meatball on your plate, handing off little bites of it to Sergio who eagerly scarfed them down.

“Hey.” Emily pinched at your leg and you let out a squeak, your eyes shooting over to her, “you keep doing that and he’s gonna like you more than me.”

“Sorry.” You felt your cheeks heat, closing the lid to the takeout container and Sergio batted at your hand with his paw, “mom said no.” You muttered, booping his nose as you shifted on the couch and you directed back toward Emily, “and that is literally impossible. Emily Prentiss is number one in everyone’s book.”

“Oh please.” She laughed, easily handing off her wine glass to you to be topped up while you stood from the couch.

“First in mine.” You said with a shrug, not really realizing what you’d said, padding through the apartment. Wine glasses found home on the breakfast bar while you tossed the leftovers into the fridge, pausing to check something on your phone and Emily felt a warmth spreading through her, watching the way you tugged your lip into your mouth before pocketing your phone again. “You want the gelato now or should I leave it in the freezer?” You asked, breaking her from her trance.

“Oh, now for sure.”

“Kay.” You shot her a grin, refilling the wine, grabbing a couple of spoons and the gelato containers from the freezer before you made your way back over to the couch. “Glad you said that ‘cause I do believe I deserve a treat after today. Remind me to make Derek pick up the tab next time he insists on drinks.”

“You guys go out a lot?” She asked, scooping into her dessert.

“Every couple of weeks.” You shrugged, moaning over your food for a moment, “god this is good. But yeah, Savannah’s a gem, Derek seems to always forget that if I come out for drinks it’s two against one, but it’s all in fun.”

“You don’t feel like a third wheel?” She asked and you bit back a loud laugh.

“No.” The laugh remained on your cheeks and Emily couldn’t help but smile, “hell, a couple of weeks ago Derek was bragging about being hit on at the bar so we bet that either of us could get more phone numbers from girls than him.”

“And?” She raised a brow with a smirk.

“Derek got three, Savannah got eight girls, three dudes, and I ended up with six girls, the bartender and our server… and Savannah’s, but I don’t think that counts.” You let out a little laugh, “oh.. I don’t think I can stay too late tomorrow; we’re going for manicures.”

“That’s fine.” Emily smiled in response, softly squeezing at your leg, “I’ve got more than enough errands to catch up on.”

“You know if you’ve got shit to do we don’t actually have to do this every week.”

“Nah.” She smiled and you could tell there was a tease coming by the look on her face, “I like not having to pay for dinner once every two weeks.”

“Well at least you’re getting some kind of benefit out of this.” You shot back and she laughed, spoon digging back into her gelato.

Your gazes redirected back to the television, old sitcom reruns playing to keep you occupied through the silences. You were halfway through your dessert when the commercial break started, the first a movie trailer, the second for a fast food joint, the third a very over the top jewelry ad complete with obnoxious fake public proposals and crying.

“Gross.” You muttered over a bit of gelato and Emily chuckled softly, though she was mainly in agreeance with you, it was just a little too much for her style.

“Says the one who’s been engaged.” She teased, nearly wanting to take it back the moment your body tensed at her words. She watched the way you froze in your movements, spoon still in your mouth as your brow furrowed before you slipped it out, digging into your food for a second, lost in thought.

“When did I tell you that?”

“Couple of weeks ago.” She shrugged, squeezing at your leg softly, a wordless way of telling you that you didn’t need to talk about it if you didn’t want to. “Well, you mentioned something about nearly marrying a lawyer, I’m just taking liberties.”

“Well you’re right.” You admitted quietly, suddenly very distracted with picking out the cherries in your gelato. It wasn’t that you were avoiding talking to Emily about it, you didn’t mind, it was just that you could feel your chest tightening already with the thoughts of your past.

“Anyone else know?” She asked softly, her fingers tracing patterns on your bare legs.

“Nope.” You finally looked up at her, “wasn’t exactly my star shining moment… can’t say I’m proud of it.”

“What’d’you mean?”

“It was… one of those relationships that when you get out of, everyone around you is all ‘oh my god, it’s about time, she was so terrible to you, I’ve been waiting for you to break up for years, I’m not surprised’ kinda thing.”

“Meanwhile the entire time you’re together they’re telling you how cute you are?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, “Skylar was… something else. I mean she already had the unfair advantage of me in a new city where I didn’t know a lot of people and certainly no family. She proposed in the middle of one of her family dinners, I couldn’t exactly say no in the moment and it sparked a huge fight when we got home.”

“Did you want to marry her?”

“I loved her.” You replied with a huff, “I thought she was the love of my life. A couple of weeks later was when she got the job offer in LA, I coincidentally sat in on a couple of lectures about profiling while we were working a DV case and it kinda all clicked, started to realize just how manipulative she had been the entire relationship. How terrible she’d been treating me. I was blind to all of it, made me realize that if I couldn’t see the real motivations of someone I saw everyday, someone I thought I knew inside and out, then how was I supposed to be able to see through psychopathic serial killers?” You risked a glance up at Emily, the tightness in your chest relaxing when you found her attention on you, a soft encouraging look in her eyes, “It was part of why I decided to specialize in profiling when I moved to Florida after breaking up with her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. But there’s no need for you to be, you’re not the one who fucked me up when it comes to understanding love.” You let out an ironic laugh, finally digging back into your gelato.

“You ever talk to her? I know how feelings can get stuck deep down inside you no matter how much you want to ignore them.”

“God no.” You scoffed, “the only thing I feel when talking or thinking about her is the urge to shoot things.”

“You wanna go to the range?” She offered and your head tilted in her direction.

“Isn’t a little late?”

“Oh c’mon, I’m a unit chief! I’ve gotta have some kind of pull.”

“Really?” You looked over to her with a wicked grin that made her smile for real.

“Yeah.”

“Well then fuck yes.”

“Okay but just one question.”

“Shoot?”

“You pawned the ring right? Didn’t give her the chance of getting it back?” She asked, raising a brow and the look on your face had her instantly wondering what happened as you bit back a laugh.

“I fed that piece of shit to a gator my first day in Florida.”

Emily howled out a laugh, swatting at your leg, the two of you both laughing so hard tears had started to blur into your eyes at the sheer thought. There truly was no better way to win a break up than the path you’d ended up on. By the time you were done at the range you were both feeling much more relaxed, any frustration or build up of emotion lifted from your shoulders as you returned to Emily’s apartment.

But just in case, Emily did still drag you into the bedroom to remind you just how special you were, worshipping every inch of your body, her lips and fingers not leaving any of your skin unexplored until you were completely exhausted, curling into her arms into a deep sleep.

***

Paperwork days were usually loved around the BAU, a little bit of a break, time to spend with friends and family rather than chasing serial killers around the country. This one would be, but it was involving a lot of wrap up from a tricky case out in Salt Lake and everyone was already tired from the week out of office. You’d been paired with JJ that week and the two of you had taken down the unsub together, but alone, so your reports were needing just that much more detail for the deputy director to be satisfied. Then JJ got the call that Henry had a school emergency and she had to take off for that, she apologised profusely and said she’d try to finish at home but you assured her to just email what she had to you and you’d finish up.

You’d done as said, reports sitting in your printer while you got distracted looking through case files. Part of you was always waiting for Dewald’s signature to pop up somewhere other than Florida, you knew he was still out there and were sure he wouldn’t be able to resist this long. The office had started to empty out, you, Derek and Spencer left in the bullpen while Emily worked away in her office, though her voice suddenly broke through the room, causing the three of you to nearly jump.

“Wilson are you done with those reports? I need them asap.”

Your head shot up in the direction of her office, worried that she was mad but you could tell by the look on her face that she, just like the rest of you, wanted to get out of there for the weekend.

“Yeah, sorry!” You scooped up the papers from the printer, quickly jogging up the stairs to her office it was nearly out of instinct you swung the door shut behind you, ready for a lecture for your superior. “Sorry, I should’ve filed them earlier, I just got sidetracked.”

“It’s fine.” She let out a small laugh, turning back to you, “I just wanted to make sure they were done. I’m only an asshole when someone above me is an asshole, promise.”

“Okay.” You laughed, sliding the papers onto her desk, watching the way she paused, her eyes dragging up your body and you nearly gulped, feeling yourself flutter around nothing. “Anything else?”

“You never wear skirts…” you glanced down at your outfit, she was right, you were normally ready for field days but had been running out of work clothes today, throwing on a pencil skirt suit and heels.  “And to be honest it’s kind of driving me insane.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, a small grin taking over your cheeks as she stepped toward you.

“Yeah.” She murmured, her fingers cascading up your neck before pinching at your chin, “thinking about pushing it up, sitting you on my desk so I can get a taste before bending you over it, stretching you out over my cock.”

“Well it is Friday…” You murmured back, your lips nearly brushing against hers as you spoke “office desk? Kitchen island? Same difference to me, I have an imagination.”

“Good girl.” She praised, her lips ever so briefly meeting yours before you could both hear the sound of high heels outside her office door and stepped apart before Penelope knocked and darted through the door once Emily gave her the go ahead.

Once you were home that night Emily wasn’t about to forget your words, propping you up on the island while she ate you until your legs were absolutely shaking, pussy clenching around her fingers and you were practically crying for her cock. She wasn’t about to let you down, flipping you over and bending you over the counter, cock plunging into you as you moaned, fingers scrambling against her skin as you could never get enough. No matter how she fucked you, you were almost always left aching for more, her touch burning into your skin as you fell asleep curled in her limbs.

***

You let out a quiet groan, your eyes scrunching as you shifted in the bed, you didn’t want to wake up yet, especially as you felt Emily’s body next to you. Her breath was warm on the skin of your throat, her face nuzzled gently into your body as the two of you slept. You could feel her body raising and lowering as she breathed, still completely asleep and something inside of you softened, knowing she was that comfortable and safe with you by her side. You dared to crack open an eye, hoping you’d be able to keep a hold of the sleep afterwards and your lips broke out into a grin.

She was absolutely stunning, the sun peaking through her curtains, bouncing colours off her hair splayed against the pillows. She looked absolutely peaceful, like she was as relaxed as she possibly could be and that made your heart swell in an entirely different way. You couldn’t help but reach out, your fingers ever so lightly tracing over her skin, trailing around her lips, up her jaw before they ran down the bridge of her nose. No matter how much you didn’t want to move you shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose and you nearly winced as you watched it scrunch up, her lips twitching up into a grin.

“You’re staring.” She mumbled, her arm wrapping tighter around you.

“Lies.” You murmured, your lips ghosting over hers and she chuckled softly, stealing a kiss without opening her eyes.

“I think you’re the one lying.” She yawned softly and it was your turn to let out a sleepy laugh.

“Maybe if you weren’t so cute when you’re sleeping I wouldn’t have to stare.”

“You ever wonder how I feel?” She murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips and you felt you chest swell, a giggle bursting from your lips before you nuzzled back into her and the two of you were back off into dreamland.

***

When Emily slipped the g-spot vibe into you after your morning session you thought it was to keep her cum buried inside your still dripping pussy, remind you who you belonged to while you went about your day.

You were proven very wrong when you got to the farmer’s market.

Up at a candle stand the tiniest gasp escaped your lips as the toy began a dull buzz inside you. A moment later and Emily’s hand was on your hip, her lips teasing your neck, her words hot on your skin,

“Think of it as a training exercise, gotta keep your poker face sharp. This should do the trick.”

“Yeah, right.” You muttered back, with how close to you she was you could feel the bulge in her pants, you knew exactly what her intentions were.

“Be a good girl for daddy.” She whispered into your ear, nipping at your earlobe before she pinched your hip and stepped away, pretending to look at something else in the stall.

It was a torturous hour and a half at the farmer’s market, every time you Emily picked up her phone you felt your skin prickle in anticipation. The vibrator would pick up speed, change to a more intense pattern before slipping back down. It only took the first three times before she noticed she had a tell, a smirk taking over her lips and she set it to a pre set edging pattern so it would change without her having to touch her phone. Though that didn’t stop her from picking up her phone to pretend she was about change things up, smirk practically plastered on her lips the entire afternoon.

By the time you got back to Emily’s apartment you were certain you were about to explode. The door swung shut, the bag in her hand dropped onto the kitchen island and she was on you. Her lips met yours in a fiery kiss, one that she was in complete control of as her hands made quick work of your clothes, pulling your panties down your legs as she did so.

“Daddy please….” You whined, collapsing against the wall behind you and she could see your thighs trembling.

“Oh princess…” her hand caressed at your cheek, “I never said you weren’t allowed to come. Poor thing. You must be incredibly pent up.” She stepped toward you, slotting her thigh between your legs and you let out a shriek as it nudged the toy deeper into you, the denim of her jeans brushing against your throbbing clit. “Go ahead, make a mess of daddy’s pants.”

Her hands clutched at your hips softly, rocking your body and you cried out as pleasure shot through you, your entire body trembling, gasps leaving your lips as your juices dribbled around the toy. Emily couldn’t help but smirk as you rode out your orgasm on her thigh, the damp spot on her jeans getting darker and bigger with each twitch of your body.

“Fuck.” You swore, a hand clenching at Emily’s shoulder like a life line and she chuckled darkly. Nudging you up off her thigh just enough to pull the toy out you let out a whimper as the rest of your juices drenched her leg.

In an instant she had you spun around, your forearms bracing against the wall. Her hands sunk down your body, pulling down the cups of your bra as she went, your nipples hardening in the cool air of the apartment. You knew she wasn’t done, especially with the tell tale sound of her belt clinking as she undid her pants.

“Just want one more from you angel.” She said, “want you to come around daddy’s cock, okay?”

“Yes!” You practically shrieked, her fingers toying with you already before she coated the dildo in the mess of your juices and her leftover cum from that morning and slid it into you with ease. “Oh fuck…”

It was almost embarrassing how quickly your pussy was fluttering around her cock, the tip of it nudging against you with each thrust of her hips. The sounds coming from your cunt were ones of absolute sin, sopping wet, each time Emily pulled her cock back it was covered in more of your cum, completely drenched.

“Oh god daddy!” The cry left your lips louder than you expected and Emily urged you on with a particularly rough thrust, her hand coming to spank at the curve of your ass.

“That’s it princess. Let everyone know just how good daddy fucks you.”

“S’close!” You whimpered, your eyes scrunched shut as your fingers clawed at the wall, wishing for some sense of balance while your legs began to shake. Fire prickled under your skin, pleasure building deep in your gut, a moan leaving your lips with each thrust of Emily’s cock. “oh god… god! Please!”

Emily’s free hand found your chest, pinching at your nipple, rolling it between her finger and thumb and you practically screamed, your pussy clenching down around her. Your body shook as you hit your peak, your legs began to give out and Emily’s arm wound around your waist, keeping you upright and pulling you to her. She kissed up your neck gently, stilling her thrusts while you whimpered, shivering every couple of seconds until you could finally open your eyes again.

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered and she laughed softly, kissing your shoulder as she pulled out, watching the mess drip down your thighs.

“How about we get you in the bath angel? I’ll start on dinner.” She suggested, nudging you in the direction of the bedroom once she was sure your legs weren’t complete jello any longer.

You were particularly blissed out post bath, wrapped in cozy hoodie and stolen pair of Emily’s sweatpants sat at the kitchen island. Sergio quickly took place on your lap, purring loudly as he curled up to wait for treats while you ate dinner. Emily had taken a few of the super fresh ingredients from the farmer’s market to make pasta pomodoro with chicken and goat cheese and to be honest it was one of the best dinners you’d had in a while. You’d offered to help with the clean up considering she’d cooked but she waved you off, insisting on you continuing to relax and refilled your wine instead.

You couldn’t help but watch her as she flit through the kitchen, placing leftovers in the fridge, a pan into the sink to soak before loading up the dishwasher. It was all very menial, almost boring daily tasks but there was something about being around while someone was doing them that made a warmth bloom through you in a completely different way than earlier. Sure, it had been another six weeks of your no strings situation, being in each other’s company on the weekends was a very regular occurrence and nothing new. And honestly? You wouldn’t change it for the world, being able to watch Emily in the comfort of her own home, underneath the shell of the FBI agent was something you adored.

“What?” Her voice broke through your thoughts, a small laugh evident on her lips and you laughed yourself.

“Nothing.”

“You that blissed out?” She teased, coming around the island to wrap an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Kinda.” You admitted with a little giggle, “guess I’m just used to days that are either all sex, or all casual. You took me on one hell of a rollercoaster today.”

“Sure did.” Smirking, she leant down, kissing you softly. “You let me know whenever you want to do it again.”

“Think I’m pretty wiped right now honestly.”

“Not tonight.�� She laughed, kissing you quickly again before she swiped both your wine glasses off the island, nodding toward the couch, “but you’re welcome to stay over tonight too. I think I might just owe you some cuddles after how well you did today.”

***

Your house was split into three floors, the entry level being home to a small office, storage room and half bath, safe to say the least lived on floor. You were currently on the second level, home to the kitchen, dining space and living room, the tv on in the background for noise as you finally had the chance to curl up on the couch with a book. It was the middle of the week, the team had gotten back from San Antonio midday Saturday so you’d taken some time tonight to toss some laundry in and tidy up around the house. You heard a noise from downstairs, glancing toward the window, wondering if it was your neighbour getting home when you suddenly heard it again, this time you were certain it was knocking. Tossing back the blanket you scooped up your phone, it was nearing ten thirty and you had no notifications but there was definitely someone at your door. You meandered down the stairs, flicking on a few lights here and there before checking the peephole to find Emily on the stoop.

“Hey…” You greeted, pulling open the door.

“Hey.” She smiled meekly at you and your head tilted in confusion, “oh god… this is so much more awkward than I expected…”

“Well if you’re gonna be awkward can you be awkward inside? It’s freezing.”

“Sorry.” She nearly winced, quickly stepping over the threshold, toeing out of her shoes.

“C’mon.” You’d already flicked the lock behind her, nodding towards the stairs before you jogged back up them. “Wine?” You asked as you approached the kitchen island, turning back to her.

“You got anything stronger?” She asked with a sigh.

“You okay?” You asked, pulling down the bourbon from the top shelf, pouring some into a tumbler for her.

“It’s, ugh, God! This is so stupid.” She groaned, grabbing the glass to take a hefty swig before starting off on a mini rant, “I just, it’s been a hard week and I feel even dumber because it’s only Wednesday and it’s not even like the last case was a rough one. I’m just… tired… ya know?” She glanced in your direction and you nodded, “I don’t know where I am but it’s stuck somewhere between wanting to shoot someone and wanting to curl up into a ball feeling sorry for myself. Apparently I’m crap company too because Sergio wanted nothing to do with me, every time I tried to pick him he’d run off so if I’m bringing the mood down you’re free to kick me out. Oh, and you left a shirt at my place that he’s stolen so I don’t know if you’re ever getting that back”—

“Okay,” you interrupted with a giggle, hands grasping gently at her forearms, “now you’re rambling.”

“Sorry.” She mumbled, ducking her gaze, “I guess I just wanted some company, even if I’m garbage at it.”

“You’re not.” You assured her, your fingers curling under her chin so gain her gaze before you leant in, kissing her softly, “trust me.” You squeezed at her hand, “and you don’t need to feel stupid. Just because you’re this big bad ass FBI Unit Chief doesn’t mean you always have to be in control and know what you’re doing. We’re only human, you’re allowed to feel vulnerable.”

“Even if I hate it?” She asked, her nose scrunching in distaste and you laughed.

“Yeah. You’re even allowed to cry, but I’m honestly not sure if you have tear ducts.” She scoffed, but you saw the smile flash across her face and you knew it had worked. “Everyone needs a little bit of comforting sometimes, doesn’t matter how tough you are.”

“I think…. That’s what I want.”

“Then c’mon.” You squeezed at her hand again, guiding her over to the couch where she collapsed down beside you, letting you wrap an arm around her as you tossed the blanket over your laps, your fingers gently coming to comb through her hair.  

An episode or two later and you could feel her body while still stiff wasn’t as tense, her fingers were tickling at your skin and you found yourself climbing into her lap, lips meeting hers tenderly, tongues slowly exploring each other’s mouths. You broke the kiss, eyes dark as you looked down at her, tilting her chin up to you,

“Let me take care of you daddy…” you whispered, slowly sinking to your knees between her legs, “would you like that?”

You were practically pouting back up at her and Emily felt like she could explode at just the sight of it alone. Her hand reached out, caressing at your cheek gently and you leant into it before turning your head to press a kiss into her palm.

“Yeah angel.” She nodded.

“Just relax for me. You’ll feel better, promise.”

A moment later and she was kicking her pants off her legs and your face was buried between them, bringing her to the full point of relaxation that she hadn’t even realized she’d been needing.

____________________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @thisisraes @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots  @lavenderhoney94 @overtrred28

[gamblersdoll]

ITS THE MATTER OF IT… chapter 5

tw: 18+ themes, drug usage (its just weed) sukuna being a little shit, a lil needy yuuji please note i have warned my readers of sexual themes, so no negativity or i will have to block.

what yuuji liked about you, were when you both could eventually get closer, even if you were almost same as fushiguro.

whenever you could cook food, even your ethnic ones, he was right there each of the way. snacking of course, he couldnt wait to try and taste your food while it cooked, so he would find little biscoff cookies or snack on crackers while it cooked. he could see how well you could cook, determined to try and learn from you so you could one day relax and make it for you.

or when you did your hair. wash days, deep conditioning, whatever long hairstyles you did , he watched in awe. washing your thick hair could take an hour or two, so he would occasionally help— outside of the shower of course, but was he godsend with his hands. but once you put your hair cream into his hair and raked it through, he was in heaven.

right now? both of you were laying in the bed listening to whatever tiktok you both were on. yuuji would send at least ten at a time, so you had to watch them. the problem however was what you were feeling. he had his legs under yours, and would occasionally poke or squeeze at them. you paid it no mind, or at least you thought.

for yuuji, he was internally panicking. you actually felt comfortable to do that? what were you both? could you at least feel the same? each time he looked at you, his heart would squeeze too, but who wouldnt when they were around you?

should… should he?

“yuuj?” you called him. you had given him some little nickname , it only missed the i in it though. yuuji had finally peeled his eyes away from his phone to look at you, trying to hide his blush.

“hm?” he grunted softly, looking at you, he put his hand on your left knee, and smiled. he was good at smiling, it somewhat made you feel home.

“why are you panicking.. youre sweating.” you had asked, and to no fault pointed out. he felt embarrassed then, only catching on to his little facade.

“i.. i was just thinking about something.” he said, he wasn’t necessarily lying, but he didnt say what about. he looked at you like you were the prettiest girl ever, forget Jennifer Lawrence.

“what about?” you had mindlessly asked, scrolling still on your phone, you hadnt looked up at him until he had said something that had caught you.

“how uh.. i used to smoke weed.” he had admitted, this time he put on a front, he hadnt smoked weee, but only had inhaled from a contact high. he was going to speak again until sukuna had made his arrival.

“punk ass, he hasnt smoked ever.” sukuna had said, putting yuuji on blast for even saying something like that. yuuji rolled his eyes, hoping that you wouldnt get mad that he told a fib.

“did you want to try.” you meant as a question, but growing ready for whatever reason yuuji might back out.

yuuji had grown nervous, but an excited nervous, and he nodded.

…………

this edible was strong as fuck.

maybe about a hour after splitting and consuming a edible, one that simply should have put yuuji on his ass, both of you were munching on whatever food was nearby. for him, a meatball sub since he apparently loved that kind of food. and for you, philly steak. yuuji had actually remembered to get it, even when under the influence… what boyfriend material.

now both of you were cuddled up, watching a tiktok on your phone while yuuji was somewhat big but little spoon. but for yuuji, he felt like his feelings were amplified.

he knew without a doubt, if he could be with you like this, you trusted him.

but thats when the high really started to kick in, and he felt his chest tighten or his legs.. or was it his pants? he felt ashamed for even being in that state. but he couldnt help it! you were so pretty and smart.. and you looked so good right now.

“how you feeling, yuu?” you had asked, without a doubt in the same boat.

“does being high make you really uhh… aroused?” he had slurred, but could talk better than you. you had nodded, knowing that you could barely form a sentence when intoxicated.

he nodded too, his finger tips tracing shapes on your arms, then on your back, which caused goosebumps to form and make you feel more than what you felt.

“is this.. okay?” he asked, feeling on the side of your ribs and close to your breasts. you had nodded, in your head you were asking for him to, to help relieve your stress and problem for now.

“please..” you had whispered, looking up at him with big brown high eyes. had you known that would set yuuji off, you wouldnt.

yuuji had to look away, feeling like if you both continued, itd be wrong, could you even consent? could you think for yourself? some people cant when they are high. “y/n.. how sure are you about this? can you even consent to this??” he asked, what a gentleman.

“we don’t have to get deep into it.. but please.” you had pleaded, growing needy for his touch since he had pulled away. he was getting needy too, he wanted to wait and hear you say what was needed.

you had ever since gotten on his lap and moved your hips against it, causing yuuji to breathe heavily and grab your hips. once you got into his ear, you knew what would happen.

“i want this, i consen–“ you were going to finish, until yuuji had heard you completely and laid you on your back, sharing your first kiss with him.

his hands wandered, exploring what your body had felt like, how much you barely took care of it, but how you still felt so soft and supple. his tongue brushed against yours, causing you to grant him access and that turned into sloppy kisses.

his kisses went to your neck, feeling how hot and heavy it had gotten in the matter of minutes. he whined, smelling your skin and how you smelled so good. he had gotten between your legs, dragging his focus to where you both would connect, and softly snapped his clothed hard on against your clothed cunt making you both moan out.

he leaned back to your ear, dragging his hand from your breast, to your waistband. he suckled on your earlobe, making you mewl out and arch your back.

“let me know when you want me to stop, okay baby?” he whispered to you, making sure your safety was more important. you had nodded, feeling his fingers slip under your clothes and play with your bundle of nerves.

“fuck..” you moaned out, immediately your hand flying to cover your mouth and another hand pinching your clothed nipple. yuuji had noticed, pulling your shirt up and licking circles around your pebbled nipple. you moaned as he lowered his fingers.

“you okay, baby?” yuuji had asked, slipping a finger slowly into your wet slit, feeling how his fingers were sinking into you. you nodded, grinding your hips on his thick fingers as he didnt move.

after he had to convince you to moving your hand, he had kissed you. sucking on your bottom lip as he told you how warm you felt, how you feel good next to him. he eventually started to slowly split your slit open with just two fingers. and thats where it hit.

you started to writhe, growing close to your orgasm and he immediately knew.

“yeah baby? like this?” he asked, curling his fingers into your walls and going slow then fast, as if he was actually making love to you. you nodded, tears growing in your eyes from how good it felt, whenever you were high it always felt so much more than sober. yuuji had started drawing circles on your clit with his thumb as he finger fucked you, drawing you closer.

“imgunncum—“ you had whispered, barely even managed to say it. yuuji had understood and heard you, growing desperate to make you feel good.

“cumforme, pleasebabycum– come on, you can cum..” yuuji had said, setting you off and over a cliff as you reached your climax, silently of course. yuuji had pulled away from you, pulling your pants off and having you go use the bathroom. he then got a warm rag and wiped your down, carrying you back to bed.

“what about you…?” you had slurred, worried about whatever you could do to return the favor. he waved you off though.

“next time, sweetie.” he had told you, pulling you closer to him so both of you could pass out in his arms.

….

in sukuna’s domain however, he was learning about what could possibly make you even more vulnerable to him. he felt… strange? as if he was growing soft? no. it wasnt that, he was just simply attracted to you. and then he started to plan. he could simply switch with the brat and have his way with you, no, he wanted you to savor him and his time with you.

“ill have my way with you soon, little one.”

honorable tags: @lisaaannna @coldbreadbouquetworld

[amazingmsme]

Okay but what about some of your favorite headcanons that aren’t tickle related? For Curt and Owen, or any of Hatchetfield, whatever you wish. Just curious to hear what you’re thinkin’! 🎤

Think I’ll stick to the spy boys for now just so it won’t get too long cause I already know I’m gonna get carried away lol

So just like we see at the beginning, Curt & Owen love fucking around with the bad guys they find on their missions & “use them for sport” as Owen says. & they love to rub it in their faces just how damn good they are that they can just use them for fun in their own little games

Sometimes they get more roughed up if the other is the one interrogating them. They’re both masochists who never want to admit defeat, so yeah they’ve walked away with blood & broken bones (only minor breaks but STILL)

Curt loves playing with the spy gadgets regardless of how many times Barb tries to warn him, or how many times he ends up hurting himself with them zksvksjaz. He never tells her when he does it tho because that will just end up in a lecture

Curt & Owen will mock each other’s bosses to make each other laugh after they get chewed out for being dumb & reckless

They have to share hotel rooms quite often to “save the agencies money” & before they actually got together it was just straight up torture for them

The first time they had to share a bed on one of these missions, they were both freaking out internally & trying to play it cool. But then Owen found out Curt hogs all the blankets & suddenly he wasn’t feeling so smitten, just pissed off & cold

They flirt in the job soooo much it should be obvious at this point

One of the first epiphanies that Owen has about his partner comes when Curt fixed his tie for him & Owen was a little off his game for the rest of the night because he kept thinking about Curt’s hands so close to his throat & his lips in perfect kissing distance

They absolutely help each other pick out their outfits when they go undercover

After they get together, they play a game where they talk about what their lives would be like if they weren’t spies & they just make up a whole ass fake domestic life for them where they adopt a dog, then a cat (as practice) & when they’re “ready” they adopt a kid & have a happy lil family

They also play this game where they pretend they went into different professions & make up different ways they met each other

Curt is great at poker & wins most of the time they play

Before they met, Curt really wasn’t a tea guy, but Owen makes him “real” tea & makes him realize he actually likes it as long as it’s made right. Perks of dating a Brit

They have matching daggers carved with the other’s name. The height of romance

Cynthia has her suspicions about them, but they work so well together she couldn’t care less. That’s none of her business & tbh she couldn’t care less

Curt is actually a pretty good cook because he’s a momma’s boy & helped out in the kitchen any chance he got. But once they got together, he wanted to blow Owen away with his skills & made a candlelit romantic dinner with garlic bread & spaghetti & meatballs & a huge salad & Owen was literally speechless. YES they did the lady & the tramp thing where they kiss on the same noodle & they kept trying until they got it right!

Ok I held off long enough, here’s a few nsfw headcanons. No minors beyond this point, I’ll kick your ass

Ok but they’ve LITERALLY had a dick measuring contest. Like, they got out the tape measure to see whose is bigger. & no I’m not gonna say, y’all decide for yourselves. There’s no WAY I’m sparking that kind of debate

They legit take turns on who tops & bottoms

You’d expect it to be rough kinky sex, but it’s actually the most tender lovemaking ever ok they love each other more than anyone & they take their time exploring each other’s bodies

Of course when the time is right they absolutely get kinky with it

Their fake interrogations take a turn like 50% of the time (only after they’ve killed everyone in the building)

Even the interrogations that don’t end like that still get them both all hot & bothered. Owen especially loves the roleplay element

They kinda really like the thrill of almost getting caught so they’ve definitely hooked up when others are around

Ok that’s all I got. If you stuck around this long congrats, here’s your prize ⭐️

[theredwritingwitch]

Soulmate Fic- Home Cookin’

Pairing: Frankie Morales x reader

Soulmate AU: Food has no taste till you meet your soulmate.

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: food consumption

______________________________________________________________

Frankie just wasn’t one for parties. He was getting too old for the loud music, too achy for the dancing, and too stubborn for the small talk. Honestly, Frankie was rather hoping to spend his weekend with a cold beer and a small home improvement project in his garage. Maybe even grab a meal with the guys one night. But Santi was back in town, for good this time. Him and his soulmate Yovanna were throwing a housewarming party, and invited several friends and new neighbors over for dinner. Frankie was obliged to go as Santi’s best friend, but deep down, well actually not very deep at all, he loathed every minute of this party.

The cross of his arms and tugged down brim of his cap gave a good indication of Frankie’s lack of interest in the conversation. Even as Benny awed his small audience in the living room with his tale of his latest fight, Will and Frankie stood on their own in the corner of the room. Santi and Yovanna were busy in the kitchen, bickering over food and drinks. 

“Santi says Yovanna’s cooking tastes amazing,” Will broke the brief pause in their conversation.

“I bet, but what does his cooking taste like?” Frankie smirked at his friend. 

“Probably like a donkey’s ass.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing we don’t know what food tastes like then.”

“Someday you both will try my cooking and then you’ll be begging me for more,” Santi announced as he joined in on the conversation. The two men laughed at their friend as they got a good view of the old Delta Force operator in a greasy apron decaled with the phrase “Life is what you BAKE it.” Frankie played with the small front pocket of the apron as Santi flicked his fingers away announcing to the rest of the house, “Dinner’s ready! Grab a plate, it’s buffet style tonight!”

The guests followed Santi into the kitchen, where a spread of gorgeous food lay out on the kitchen island. Pitchers of pink strawberry margaritas and bright yellow summertime tea sat on the far counter. Colorful and festive bowls of cheese dip, salsa, and feta dip were situated near piles of blue and yellow tortilla chips and pretzel chips. On the island were plates of finely browned meatballs in lush gravy, grilled shrimp in a beautiful lime and lemon salsa, and brilliantly golden ravioli with choice of creamy alfredo sauce or bright red creamy tomato sauce. Even the dessert of a soft and sweetly pink meringue topped with glossy red strawberries and blueberries.

The guests all congratulated Yovanna and Santi on the beautiful and vibrant display of food. A line quickly formed as everyone made their way through the buffet, grabbing food and drinks before sitting down to eat. As the boys waited for their turn for food, Frankie stood behind Benny, smiling as his brother poked and prodded the younger man on his ever elaborating story. Benny, never one to back down from a fight, poked right back. 

“Every time I hear you retell that story, it seems to get a little longer,” Will chided.

“And every time I look over at you two old men, I see more lines appearing on your ever growing foreheads.”

“Careful baby brother, these things could be in the genes, you better watch yourself.”

“Why don’t you watch what's ahead of you,” Benny pointed as he shoved Will lightly to the empty space in the line ahead of him.

Will stumbled forward but then purposely leaned back and fell against his brother, pushing the younger man into Frankie and thus forcing him to stumble back. A small squeak of surprise came out from behind Frankie, causing him to quickly turn to find its source. Frankie’s large brown eyes found yours as he turned to start spouting out an apology. You eyed the handsome man before you as he looked at you with his dropping wide open mouth. Frankie expected the person behind him to be one of the couples that showed up together, not the pretty girl next door that came over alone. Caught off guard by the sudden impact and the clear silence, you tried to stammer out an “excuse me” to the man before you.

“No no, I’m sorry. My friend pushed me. It’s my fault.”

“I was standing too close, I could have given you more space.”

“No really it’s my bad. These two idiots get me in all sorts of trouble.”

Your giggle had Frankie smiling as he introduced himself. The two of you made light conversation as you made your way through the line of food and joined the rest of the guests. Many were already chowing down on the colorful food. Santi was explaining how long he grilled the shrimp to give them the crisp they needed for their warm color. Frankie took a bite of the shrimp then, chewing and pulling the shrimp apart just to chew the clearly overcooked shrimp some more before finally swallowing, tasting nothing but the charcoal of the grill and a hint of lime. Frankie froze as all these new flavors hit his tongue. There had been plenty of times where Frankie had eaten Santi’s cooking that he had chewed and chewed the overcooked food to bits, but never once did he properly tasted it. Slowly he lifted the crisp shrimp to his tongue again, lightly tasting the overdone flames of the grill. Now wide eyed, Frankie dropped the shrimp then. He knew what this meant as his brain and eyes went into overdrive, analyzing the people around him. One of these neighbors had to be his soulmate, he just had to figure out if anyone else was having the same stomach turning emotions as he.

Chugging his margarita down to get the terrible taste out of his mouth, Frankie hummed at the delicious tastes that hit the back of his throat. His eyes quickly traveled around the room, taking note of everyone’s reactions. Many continued eating as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing was different. A few couples frowned at the food, but stayed as neutral as possible.

Frankie grimaced and went on to the meatballs, which were undercooked from the looks of the pink center and the raw taste of meat that hit his tongue. Santi must have cooked that as well. Yovanna’s ravioli saved the meal though as Frankie slurped down the tomato sauce and creamy cheese centers of the ravioli. Never in all his dreams and real travels could Frankie imagine the range of tastes that were out there in the world, even if some of them were quite bad. Frankie wondered if his soulmate was going mad from the food. But he couldn’t find anyone freaking out as he was as he looked over the guests to see many conversing with others and continuing on with their eating. He suppressed a groan from the delicious tastes of the ravioli so as to not bring attention to himself, but a cough coming from right next to him broke him out of his thoughts.

There you sat, tucked away in the corner of the room just out of eye sight of Frankie, coughing up rubbery shrimp. A few pairs of sympathetic eyes landed on you, all from people who were clearly couples, as you continued to cough.

“Try the margarita, it’ll help clear your throat,” Frankie watched you intently as he handed you his cup.

You grabbed the drink with thanks and swallowed a decent portion down. Frankie chuckled as your eyes bugged out from the delicious taste.

“Yovanna must have made the margaritas then, because Santi definitely made the tea,” you groaned out.

“I thought the same thing. Just a warning, don’t try the meatballs.”

“Oh no, another Santi creation I presume,” you chuckled and looked over at Frankie.

“Seems to be,” Frankie rubbed his beard contemplating if he should try his luck.

“I’m all of a sudden very new to this whole taste thing…” you paused as you shyly looked over to Frankie.

“Same, I’m new to it as well,” he smiled down at you which only made you mirror his smile. Looking around the room and back at you, Frankie shifted in his seat, “you know maybe the two of us could head out early and see what other things taste like…” Frankie internally groaned at his own words. It had been awhile since he flirted with anyone.

You laughed though, “I think that’s a great idea, we’ve got a lot to experience now don’t we.”

After one shared sweet meringue and at least one week spent together as a couple later; Frankie and you made sure to mail Santi a thank you card for the housewarming party, and enclosed one gift card to a cooking class.

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Special & Bell /Doves....

I'm insane about them, y'all just gonna have to deal with it

(nothing but fluff underneath!)

Special and Bell grew up in the 60s, a while before 7 Inches of Satanic Panic, and my GAWD did they have fun. Twister, Phil was obsessed with Operation, Cowbell loves the glow light drawings.

In the 70s, Special got even more obsessed with roller skates when the trend started coming around, and would be seen pulling Cowbell around on a scooter board around the ministry. There's so, so many pictures of them doing crazy shit, even Bell with the feathered hair and Special with a mullet. It's embarrassing, but they look back on it fondly

Special showed the Doves his photo album that Sister gave him, just having a blast and willingly embarrassing himself.

Well.... Special & Bell's anniversary with the Doves are coming up, and my LAWD they love showing affection and going all out for those two. So what do they do? They simply reserve the dance hall in the abbey, decorating it with neon lights and even a disco ball that's kept in there. Gaia and Agni get to WORK with cooking specifically 60-80s dishes. Swedish meatballs, pineapple upside down cake, haggen-dazz ice cream, scotch eggs, and even sloppy joes. They're showering through the storage hall the ministry has, even slipping in their Master's room to try and get an idea of more things they could do.

Sarra has them both in his arms, blindfolded for their surprise, both of them just curious the entire time before they enter the hall. Bell is the first to rip his blindfold off and his mouth just DROPS.... These idiots somehow managed to find the shag carpet the sanctum had!!

They're just over the moon, hugging every single one of their mates and just in awe at the amount of relics they got just for this. Special can't help himself as he finds a super squirter laying on the table and Bell has 0 seconds before he's being sprayed with water, then he's aiming at their mates.

Later on, Iris offers skates and you know Spec has to try it. "God I haven't touched a pair of these since I was 10!"

He has to glamour his paws but they fit snug, catching his balance before kicking off, just having the time of his life and holding Iris's hand as the dove glides with him. "We tried learning, we really did! It was ridiculous seeing us giants flopping on our faces and ass. I think Aqua has a bruise on his hip from it."

Cowbell is dancing with Agni while Billy Idol is playing, that twinkle in his eyes so much bigger than normal. Also he can't stop stealing everyone's meatballs, and even hissing when they try to take some in return.

He's rambling the entire time while he's more occupied with the toys laying around, infodumping and showing how each one works and functions, it's honestly adorable.

They have a small gift exchange, usually something of their current interests or jewelry. Bell and Spec just can't thank them enough but feel bad that their anniversary gift isn't until tomorrow afternoon. They're reassured and continue their little party until midnight, then just two sleepy nulls are hauled away.

When it's the Doves turn, they're kicked out of their own den. Both of the brothers kissing them over and over. "7! Come back at 7! True forms!! I love you!!!" And the door is shut. So the doves are wandering around the ministry, freaking people out bc oh fuck why are the missionaries out...

But, it's 7 now. They're all completely unglamoured, just shifting awkwardly outside until their door opens to a fluff blob with a skeleton face, smiling wide and snapping his jaw and reaching up with such happy jumps. Sarra picks him up ofc, nuzzling this bundle of curly fur and letting his skull bump at his chin. Then 5 pairs of eyes are looking back with decorative body jewelry, a heavy purple shadow following that shows large horns and full wings.

"come in, come in!!" Special is clapping, too. "Oh fuck I'm so excited right now-"

They're instantly hit with the smell of Pit food, looking at the table pulled to the now empty common room, set up like a mixture of their elements culture examples. The luscious candelabra right in the middle with wind chimes against the wall, multiple pit plants (courtesy of the other earth ghouls), dead corral hanging from the ceiling, the nests full of feathers and star mimics, and little heating pads for seats to mimic magma rocks.

Now... Deep down, the Doves know this isn't anywhere near their Era, it's more for the modern eras. But they can't help but fawn at it, complimenting every little detail they put in down to how the nests are arranged.

Honestly the food is their favorite part. Those two studied HARD. So many trial and errors, but they have kraken sushi, venison to mimick the verais in the pit (even set up like how the earth ghouls worship it!), blood chalices from both human and animals ("we had too much a- negative in the blood bank..."), and even pomegranates. There's hell of a variety around they can't even wrap their heads around.

They all snuggle up around the table, and Sarra lets out the loudest fucking moan from the pomegranates it's INSANE they think he just came emjekdjx

"Despite these also being a topside fruit, it's always so rare we get these!" He tries to explain himself. It's only laughed at.

Now is their turn to infodump, showing their own ceremonies and rituals, some that aren't even known in the modern eras! Special and Bell are just LIVING for it.

Bell and Spec show them one more surprise, equally showing the bottom of their right foot to show their own sigil for "love". All of the Doves have it, so they decided to get it done themselves! It genuinely is the biggest act of love one can show in their Era, just dumping affection all over them -- which ends up with Bell getting his fur groomed by Gaia bc PHEW..... Bluebell (love him) can't do it for SHIT.

While Bell is occupied with Gaia and Iris, Special quietly leading away Sarra, Aqua, and Agni. Then later swapped out and once again they're back to dotting over their Bell 🩷 praising him for all the work he did, how much he's made them happy, and then bam ghoul pile. A while after Special carried out and plopped right in the middle next to Bell to join the pile, just purring and holding one another.

My GAWD they fucking love each other it's RIDICULOUS!!!!!!!!

[anewnewcrest]

From the Diary of Daisy King

Henry's been home a while now and things are so much worse than I expected. He'd been gone for so long that I got used to being on my own, to not walking on eggshells, to not bending to his every whim, and it's worse now because I've had years of respite. He is not a leader - he is a petty tyrant, and no matter how much I smile and submit, nothing changes. Everything has to be exactly the way he wants it to be, or I'll be screamed at and belittled and demeaned. And the trouble is, the way he wants it to be changes all the time, as if I'm supposed to read his mind and know what he wants! He told me to take the girls out to Lily's more - then he complains that I'm never at home and that I'm having an affair with some other guy on the base. He told me to not clean so much because the vacuum is annoying - then he screams at me that I'm a dirty, disgusting pig living in squalor.

The other day, I was making meatballs - a rare treat for us, we can barely afford hamburger helper. Henry watched me cook right until I was almost done, and then he told me how I dared to serve him shit like that, and he wanted a steak. So instead of eating dinner, I had to go to the store to make one, and I had to take the girls because he insists that they can't stay at home while I'm not there, and then of course I had to make his steak while my dinner got cold. And then he told me I'd ruined it and that my incessant nagging was driving him mad - just because I'd mentioned that steak is expensive. "I'm working my ass of for you, and you're just an ungrateful little bitch," he said... and I try not to be ungrateful, but it's hard to be grateful for a man like him. It really is.

The girls and I are rarely at home when he's at home, just because he's so unbearable. They're scared of him - but what can I do? He's their father, I can't leave him, he'd get the kids and then where would they be? We're at the park or at Lily's place most of the time, and he's at home and watches TV (another thing we couldn't afford) and drinks and in the evening goes to the bar and drinks more. Another thing that I'd hoped he'd change while he was deployed, but he fell right back into the same crowd after he came home. I call the landline to find out if he's at home, and if he doesn't pick up, I know it's safe for me and the girls to come home and go to bed. He's usually not back until the middle of the night, and then sleeps in, and then everything begins again. I have to do something! I'll have to be better, I'll have to submit more, I'll have to pray... this is only happening because I don't have enough faith in the Watcher anymore!

[wildemaven]

As it turns out I'm feeling much better after having the night off and cooking/baking my little heart out with music playing, half a bottle of wine then a long hot hot bubble bath.

Anyway this got me thinkin about our boy Frankie. So imagine it's Friday eveningish, it's guys night and it's Frankie's turn hosting. So you've been cooking and baking to feed four grown men. Frankie comes into the kitchen and looks around. He sees cheeseball, a crockpot of BBQ meatballs, cookiecake bars and dill pickle cream cheese roll ups. Frankie comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder. He's pouting.

"Mi amor, why do you never make any of my favorites for guys night?" He asks honest to God a little upset.

You turn and face him. "What do you mean?"

"You make cheeseball for Pope, meatballs for Will and those weird ass pickle roll ups for Benny."

You hum your understanding. "Frankie I do too make your favorite ever guys nights..."

He interrupts frustrated. "Do not."

You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow as you wrap your arms around his neck. "Francisco Morales what is your favorite snack in the whole world....that only you get to eat...and the guys never ever get any?"

Frankie looks at you confused then the light bulb goes off in his brain. "The guys won't be for an hour....can we go upstairs so I can have a snack to hold me over till after they're gone." He asks in a low lust filled voice.

You smile as you kiss his lips. "Baby, I'm always open 24/7 for you."

HEATHER!!!!! It’s nearly 4 am and now I’m HUNGRY for this!!

😮‍💨 Frankie would be so needy too! But we love a needy man!!

I’m gonna assume Frankie texts the guys that the evening canceled— He needs seconds and thirds

Also, I’m glad you are feeling better!! Cooking and baking are the sometimes so therapeutic.

Thanks for these thots! They’re gonna be floatin around with me all day!!

[puppygirlsounding]

Had

Quite

The day.

I, got crossfaded so hard the night before I woke up still high. Then once I finally got up, I started to do my laundry by getting everything together. Only to be interrupted by my friend asking me to go to a pop up cafe themed around Ouran High School Host Club of all things. Which I have never seen, but I am vaguely aware of. I agreed to go with my friend, and that made me decide to switch my plans. So I shelved the laundry in lieu of much needed clothes shopping. I walked down to a nearby outdoor mall and started with shoes, which went like shite because no one carries my size in stores. So I gave that up in about 30 minutes. I was debating going to a plus sized women's clothing store. Since I live in Texas and still go stealth most of the time I was anxious. Yet I wandered in anyways. I was really determined to buy something, I've been in this store before but only when older women were working. So I always went in with the lie ready that I was shopping for my conveniently me sized gf and just bought small stuff like underwear. This time however I was immediately clocked by an enby who could probably read the panic in my soul through my eyes. In comes the next 2 hours of this lovely person having me try on everything they could find in my size. I was sweating, practically fainted, forgot to bring water. It was a grueling experience, but in the end I found an outfit and made it out right on cue to meet my friend for the event. We went and had some delicious drinks, his treat. Also a little cake they were selling as part of the event. After all that we came back to my place and I finally could relax. We hung out the rest of the night. I cooked some amazing teriyaki chicken meatballs for us. We hung out, listened to a bunch of our favorite music, planned a new DND character for me. I have not had such a spontaneous 24 hours in years. The entire day just kind of happened, it was great. I'm now so tired I'm probably going to bed soon after I post this.

Before that though I'm going to post these cute ass pictures I took of course. If you read all the way through that and didn't just skip to here you're a champ.

[billysgirllol]

“why? has it not changed since you were seven?” giggling, “since i don’t know why else you’d be so blushy. so cwute and tinyyy.” sing-songing her way through his embarrassment, it sure does make her ecstatic since he’s done a good job at embarrassing her. “just by accident when you were changin’ in the toy room after your bath or somethin’ and i was just coming in for my barbie barn,” exaggerating because she can’t even confirm if she really saw it, but it’s hilarious to let him think so. “you were purposely starin’ up at my tinky bell underwear when my ass was in your face.” mocking how he said it earlier. a scoff sounds from her, he keeps getting more gross and gross. “my panties so i can do what i want with ‘em.” she sasses, he’s just jealous he can’t. “and i know because i’ve always washened it, so there wasn’t anything wrong with my ass in your face.” now or then, even when he claimed to not like it. “well that’s just weird. you didn’t want my behind in your face, because it stunk to you. now you don’t care if it stinks?” questioning in confusion, boys are too weird. she’s eating faster to hide her embarrassment once again at him saying she can put her butt on his face. should she be flattered or grossed out by perv comments? “nooo stop it,” quietly laughing as her legs begin to wiggle, “i’ll accidentally kick you and then i’ll feel bad.” maybe. “too hick? oh. wow, pull the stick outta your ass lady. or maybe she needs a kick in it.” the latter sounds more appealing, what a bitch. “well, you keep that up and,” sticking her fork into the one she hasn’t sliced into little pieces, holding the meatball on her fork and pointing it at him, “this is what yours is gonna go lookin’ like, too. for dinner, mhm. but cooked, baked and fried.”

“oh, you’re right. i did. when it was still like this big.” using her fingers to describe it. “so cwute and tiny,” making a baby voice to describe it, “so that don’t count.” a mischievous smiling playing on her face, containing the laughter dying to spill over before a snort exhales. “mhm, that part’s true at least,” the part of needing help climbing up on everything which is a cute memory despite him stalking her bloomers, “okay, and why not? there’s nothin’ wrong with my butt bein’ in your face. why didn’t you enjoy it? it don’t carry a stink or anything, so why not.” brows raise, playfully taking offense, maybe a little real offense to him saying he didn’t want her tinker bell panties in his face. yeah, right. she bets he did. “kick you in the belly button if i had to pee. but good thing i already did that so i’m good.” so she goes ahead and puts both feet in his lap, smirking deviously since the table has a black table cloth hanging over it. thinking no one will notice. “umm… why is she callin’ you that? you’re clearly billy, you should correct her.” rolling her eyes sincerely that time, her face becoming more hardened. “shut up,” scolding him when the thought doesn’t make her meatballs look that appealing anymore as she’s slicing them into little pieces, “when you’re eatin’ a cow’s ass cheek.” coming back with something to say even if she contemplated against it for a second.

[blackknightgargiefoodtopia]

Prezzo

Another long day ended without lunch and really long walking, and because it's either we eat at Tower Hills or back home at Stanmore (and my hubby wasn't really confident eating outside his comfort zone), we decided to eat somewhere closer to home, which is at Prezzo

Location: Within Stanmore, across the street from...the local nursery, I guess? :/

Setting: A really nice feel to it, almost Italian in a sense, but still with the London flair in between, though they really need to crank up the air-conditioning a little bit

Random shots of trinkets around us

The waitresses there were really perky and helpful, especially this one named Anne, who has a bit of a thick Italian accent and her voice was prolly a few octaves higher than most, which makes her sound kinda cute, LOL!

We has Appletiser in London!! Since this drink is being banned in Brunei for no apparent reason, we savor the chance to drink this super rare drink

My hubby's starters, which is garlic bread with cheese

My starters of calamari

My hubby's garlic bread was pretty chewy, in a good way. It's almost like eating pizza actually, not the usual garlic bread we would always eat. My calamari was not so bad either, nice and Q, pretty chewy, though I was expecting a bit of a crunchy batter, but it's good. Still good

My hubby's spaghetti and meatballs

My spaghetti with King prawns

Thank goodness we ordered the classic portion because it was really huge for a normal-sized meal, as usual. My hubby's spaghetti and meatballs was amazing. The meatballs were really juicy inside, unlike the meatballs done in Brunei where it's either too dry or too soggy.

My King prawns spaghetti came out interestingly without the shells. I was actually expecting it to be spaghetti then served with King prawns in its shell. Still it was really delicious. The spaghetti was cooked to perfection and the sauce is very flavorful, and the prawns, oh my god, the prawns were so fresh and juicy, you can literally feel the crunch when you bite into it. It was THAT fresh! And best of all, it had a very good helping of chopped spring onions in it, and it was amazing!

The perky waitress asked if we want dessert, and it wouldn't be nice to say no, or end it with just that, so we ordered just one dessert to share amongst ourselves, just in case they came with a crazy-ass portion again.

Our hot fudge chocolate cake with vanilla ice-cream

Omilord, the cake was just amazing! So fudgy, so chocolatey! It was amazing! Packed full of flavour and they both go really well, the thick fudge chocolate with the vanilla ice-cream. It tastes even better than chocolate lava pudding with ice-cream. It was THAT amazing. Loved every bite of it, even though I ended up super-stuffed.

All in all, the best Italian food I've eaten so far, the best pasta ever!

Overall rating:

[mischievouslittlecreature]

5-7 for pre-relationship and 6-10 for domestic life question for Inception and Dark Knight ships!

Thank you for the ask!

Vanessa Sullivan x Jonathan Crane (The Dark Knight Trilogy)

Pre-Relationship:

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Both did for a little while. Jonathan in particular was in big denial for a while. 

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Probably would have laughed in your face. Both very much expected to be alone for the entirety of their lives. 

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Oof. Very lonely. They both would probably still wound up on the road to supervilliany to be honest, but they would be going at it all alone.

Domestic Life:

6. Who worries the most?

Jonathan! He’s constantly stressing over Vanessa getting hurt and fusses over her constantly when she’s sick/injured. 

7. Who kills the bugs in the house?

They both do. Bugs aren’t a particular fear that either of them has. 

8. How do they celebrate holidays?

Usually will just have a quiet night in. Maybe get drunk on cheap wine and end up making out on the couch. Except on Halloween. That’s their time of the year to go ham with their latest evil schemes. 

9. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Vanessa. All she has to do it bat her eyelashes at him and pout a lil bit and she can get Jonathan to do pretty much anything she wants. 

10. Who’s the better cook?

They’re both pretty evenly matched. They can make the basics, but nothing super fancy or they risk setting the apartment on fire. Vanessa can make a fantastic homemade spaghetti and meatballs though.  

Alice Emerson x Robert Fischer (Inception)

Pre-Relationship:

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

OH MY GOD. THESE TWO. Both were in big denial throughout their entire childhood and teenage years. And they both were determined to resist their feelings even after realizing that they had them, because they didn’t want to ruin their friendship. 

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

They’d both be overjoyed. They’ve known each other since they were 4, after all and were already each other’s favorite person in the entire world by the time they hit teenagerhood. 

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Alice would probably have struggled even more with her depression. She still would have probably ended up working with Cobb’s team eventually, but her life would definitely always feel like it was missing something. Robert would have probably fallen into being a rich, spoiled kid trying his hardest to be his father and becoming more and more distressed that he can’t. 

Domestic Life:

6. Who worries the most?

Alice. She’s constantly worrying over Robert overworking and his mental state. 

7. Who kills the bugs in the house?

Alice. Robert’s go to reaction when he sees a bug is to scream.

8. How do they celebrate holidays?

They usually get dragged out to a holiday party of some kind for Fischer Morrow, during which Alice will inevitably fake a headache so that they can leave early. Sometimes they’ll travel somewhere together, other times they’ll just hang out at home and have a quiet celebration with their friends. 

9. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Alice. Girl hates early mornings and will pout and whine about being cold until Robert gets his ass back in bed to cuddle her.

10. Who’s the better cook?

Robert. His mom was a chef and liked to teach him how to cook prior to her death. After she died, he continued to take cooking lessons as a way to still feel close to her. It’s therapeutic for him. Alice can cook, just not anything as insanely difficult as what Robert can whip up.