#lou watches house

[wickedsnack]

house solas wilson felassan you unders-- (i am forcibly dragged off-stage by a comically large cane)

[evansbuck-ley]

pls can people start casting lou in better movies bc i cant sit through another one of his fuckass films

[plutonious]

guy who would stop being an ecoterrorist for a good massage I think

[creative-shine]

I know what buff louise means now and it's not as badly portrayed as I feared it would be LMAO

lou visually being trapped mid unification within Louise is actually a really cool idea, i get the buff thing yeah ok she worked out with Benjamin but it's passible for me. I DO wish they made her just a littleeeee but more creepy looking instead of just being buff imagine how cool of a monster design she could have had if it wasn't just buff 😔

[saturnaous]

do you understand.

[fallout-lou-begas]

i did not like scream 5 or scream 6 very much but melissa barrera is so good at getting covered in sweat and blood while wearing tight jeans and a tanktop so they're not all bad

[gingerwerk]

Lou hiring Donna and then locking her and josh in a room to make them talk about whatever beef they have so they can all keep working together… I think Lou’s head would’ve spun before she murdered both of them if she knew the truth behind their 7 year situationship

[savage-rhi]

Massive Attack - Teardrop (Official Video)

I get massive Death Stranding vibes from this video and from the music.

[ekho-ekho-ekho]

[wickedsnack]

chase is making such a big deal abt refusing to tell cameron he killed that dictator but am i misremembering? was she not advocating for refusing him treatment before? wasn't she the one saying she was okay if he died? if this ends up leading to their divorce i swear to god

[betweenlands]

hey, so, where-are-they-now style update on our fic threats:

the side project we were working on isn't 16 pages anymore -- it's now 19 pages long and is going to have at absolute minimum two whole entire more chapters. quite possibly even more than that, since i don't think the planned ch4 has any particularly solid fic-ending conclusion other than a generic "are we ready to do Thing, everyone?" stinger.

this is an absolute beast of a fic project at this point and, we cannot stress this enough, this is not the orbital laser. this is (or at least was supposed to be) a side project.

personally, we blame the duck.

[plutonious]

boytoy STOP makkng me draw geometric beasts challenge IMPOSSIBLE. day. twelve I think?

[mayapapaya33]

(2:05:13) Is it bad that I'm actively rooting for General Rococoa and Prince Amethar to find out that Deli killed their Mom and Sister and for them to absolutely annihilate him? I don't think that's what's going to happen; (Because Amethar can't die right now so Matt prooooobably won't use him for a PC confrontation to avoid to either an egregious railroad-esque OP-Amethar OR accidentally fucking up the timeline by going OOPS Amethar is dead, I guess resurrection magic has to exist in this world now lol).

But if Deli gets killed by Amethar and or Rococoa that will be the funniest thing I've ever seen and it's 100% deserved. Lou on Lou violence! Fingers crossed!

--------------------------Fanfiction prompt-------------------------------

If it doesn't happen in the campaign, it should ABSOLUTELY happen in Fanfiction. I haven't looked yet because I don't like spoilers so I'm waiting until I'm done to look for Ravening War stuff. But if there isn't anything about Delissandro and the House of Rocks on Ao3 I will be both Shocked AND Appalled at the state of fandom lmfao. The drama and angst potentials are off the charts! Sure, shipping is great fun, but this level of murder, manipulation, and vengeance is so juicy! (And it's not like you can't throw a ship or two in there if you're so inclined, though personally I'm equally as interested in Gen).

Imagine Deli and Rococoa or Deli and Amethar or all three of them, fighting side by side during the war. They're becoming friendly acquaintances or becoming actual friends even, except deep down, Deli knows. He hides a dark secret, he killed his friend's mother, and their sister. And for what exactly? To unite the Meatlands! Yes... right, of course! Maybe Rococoa saves Deli's life and smiles at him or laughs at a joke of his and his much-shriveled conscience twinges. Amethar pats him on the back and jokes that he caught Deli with his pants down, which means they're finally true allies and Deli feels like shit, literally and metaphorically.

There are so many ways you could play it. You could go from Deli's pov and have him slowly devolve into a sort of Lady Macbeth-esque figure as the guilt eats away at him more and more with every act of kindness and friendship. Once he finally realizes the true extent of what he has done. Not just to the House of Rocks, but to the world. The Death of the Queen of Candia is what finally kicked off the continent-wide war, she is the Franz Ferdinand of Candia and I'm not sure he's fully internalized that. I think it's too big.

Or he could be unrepentant to the last, as Rococoa and Amethar find out and turn on him, he could villain monologue about the greater good and being a tool of destiny as they cave his skull in and weep at the betrayal of a friend who was never truly their friend (or was he?)

Or it could be from Amethar's pov (or Rococoa's pov, but I assume most people will pick Amethar because he's a PC played by Lou up against another PC played by Lou so that's more intriguing than an NPC who was mostly just a ghost and a memory in ACOC). And you could follow the story as Amethar and Rococoa meet Deli before a battle. They all end up fighting in the same area and fight well together.

Through various circumstances they keep being brought together. Or forced together in Deli's case. Meanwhile Deli is SUPER uncomfortable lol, but Amethar isn't the most observant guy in the world, he doesn't notice. It's from his pov after all. And we can watch the relationship unfold. Somewhat like what happened with ---SPOILERS FOR ACOC--- Calroy, but different. I do think once you have Amethar's trust, you have it, he's a pretty simple man. Rococoa is more of an unknown to me, but I do know she's smarter than Amethar (not that that's a particularly high bar, sorry Amethar). So maybe Deli saves Rococoa or Amethar because there are a lot of witnesses around and he can't conveniently let them die because that would look really really bad, and he ends up earning their trust.

However you want to do it, it is the perfect set up for a Shakespearian tragedy. The audience already knows that confrontation and doom are inevitable, yet if you play it right, like all good writers you can give the audience temporary amnesia and delusion and make them hope that everything will be ok as you show them having fun and joy and comradery together. It's like walking into the movie theater to see Titanic, even if you know what's going to happen, you still have a good time when they start dancing, and you're still screaming at them to steer the ship in a different direction or not get on the boat in the first place and you're still sad when they drown. (Or for the CR fans out there, it's like walking into EXU Calamity knowing Exandria's history and still getting attached to those characters and rooting for them because you can't help it lol).

[st7rnioioss]

bestfriend!chris x inexperienced!reader lore fic? like pre smutty smut?

BSF!CHRIS x INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬... fluff, swearing, light angst, mentions of blood, mentions of reader being insecure and bullying, kissing, p in v, protected sex (short description).

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ the summer of 2008

the sun was hot and blinding in the backyard of chris’s house, the sun hat you had on nicely covering you from any sunburns.

you were sitting in the sandpit, legs sprawled out to each side, rummaging around with a cup. your curious eyes kept track of how the sand would ooze out, landing in the spot right in front of you, creating a pyramid-shape of sand.

“hey, i want that one,” you heard chris say from next to you, messily reaching over to grab the cup from your hands.

you were confused at first, looking over at him playing with it after he’d snatched it right from your grip. a pout formed on your lips, furrowing your brows while reaching back for the cup.

“no, chris! it’s mine, i was using it first!” you whined, grabbing the cup from him. chris groaned, standing up to move in front of you, but you held the cup close to your chest, turning your body away from him.

“go away, chris! i had it!” you protested again, but suddenly he sat down, his small hands reaching the other edge of the blue cup.

“give it to me! it’s my turn! you’re done using it, let go of it!” he whined back, pulling on the plastic, but not strongly enough to take it from your grasp.

“chris, i said stop!” you cried, growing frustrated and annoyed by chris and how he didn’t seem to understand you were using it first, how he’d basically stolen it from you.

“i said let go!” he yelled with his childish voice, obviously mad from how his brows knitted together, seemingly not caring about the fat tears starting to prick in the corners of your eyes.

all that went down, until you let go, not wanting to fight further. but chris was still pulling hard, causing him to accidentally hit himself right in the face with the cup, the corner cutting the edge of his eyebrow right open.

“ow!” he yelled, immediately losing his grip of the cup, which you carefully reached for to take it back, all while curiously watching his face twist up in pain.

hot tears ran down his chubby cheeks, his small fingers running across the bleeding wound while he cried from the stinging and ache.

“i’m sorry, chris. i didn’t mean to do that..” you mumbled while looking at him with a perplexed and puzzled look, your wide and confused eyes stuck on his eyebrow that was trickling with blood.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

later that day, chris was sitting in his living room with his brothers, all sucking on a popsicle while engrossed in some cartoon on the tv, a bandaid stuck to chris’s brow.

you had been out in your own backyard after your ran home when chris’s mom told you he was gonna cool down for a minute, picking some daisies for him, pinching them between your fingers.

the doorbell then rang in the sturniolo household, and chris’s mom opened it to find you standing there, shyly waving at her.

“hi, mary-lou,” you smiled, looking behind her to see if chris was sitting on the couch, which he was. “can i play with chris?”

you looked back up at her with big eyes, showing her the flowers you’d picked out.

“oh, sure sweetheart. he’s right in there,” his mom opened the door wider for you with a smile, noticing you seemed somewhat eager to get chris. hastily you made your way to the living room, waving at matt and nick.

“hi chris,” you smiled, crawling up into the couch to sit next to him, shuffling between him and nick.

chris glanced at you, before his eyes made their way to the flowers in your hand, looking somewhat curious.

“hi. why do you have flowers?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side, his brows furrowed. his lips and the corners of his mouth were red from the popsicle, clearly sticky from the sugar too.

“they’re for you. sorry about your eyebrow,” you held your hand out for him to take the flowers, somewhat squished and missing a few petals, but still—it’s the thought that counts.

chris looked down at them in his own hand when he grabbed them, before placing them on the coffee table in front of you to keep them safe.

he gave you a faint smile, before he looked at the lollipop that was melting down his tiny fingers.

“do you want a popsicle?” and that was all you needed to hear in order to know you were forgiven, smiling widely with a frantic nod, swinging your legs back and forth.

“mom, can i grab another popsicle?” he turned to look up at his mom, who was a little too busy with her camera, snapping a few pictures of the two of you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

sometime in 2017

“mom, you’re not being fair!” you yelled from your room with a pillow clutched to your chest, your mom standing on the other side of the door.

you had a frown stuck to your lips, your brows furrowed in frustration, as well as tears welling in your waterline. you looked down at the small bag you had packed to bring for a sleepover with those few friends you had, only for your mom to tell you that you couldn’t go.

“stop, sweetie. i don’t wanna hear any more. dinner is ready soon,” your mom said before making her way back downstairs, leaving you angry and upset in your room.

sitting on the edge of your bed, you could look straight out your window, facing chris’s. you could peek some movements in there, and that was sign enough to pick up your phone and call him.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

“she was being so annoying! i literally planned it all out with my friends, and then she told me i couldn’t go!” you laid with your back to chris’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. chris was doing the same, laughing lightly along with you when you broke a laugh at your upset self. he turned to look at you, poking your shoulder.

“hey, but now we’re having a sleepover. it’ll be ten times more fun,” he smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back even wider, nodding along with his words.

“yeah,” you giggled, shooting a quick glance at the bag from earlier thrown onto chris’s floor. then to ruin the moment, your phone started buzzing with an incoming call. you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone only to see your moms contact name.

“fuck,” you groaned, forgotten all about the dinner your mom had prepared and how’d you snook out. it was like this most days and weekends. whenever your parents weren’t being fair (in your eyes), you would immediately be welcomed in chris’s room and vice versa, spending the night eating snacks and watching some stupid show you never got to finish because you always ended up talking over it.

it was nice to have someone to hold your back, always there for you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

winter, 2018

the tension in the room was thick—so thick you could basically cut through it and finally get out of the room you usually enjoyed staying it. but not right now, not at all.

you sat on the carpeted floor of chris’s bedroom, leaning against the bedframe, his bed occupied with chris himself and his girlfriend. you had this faint idea she had something against you, but you didn’t know what. did you presence annoy her? was this the typical “his girl best friend” situation? gosh, you needed to leave.

“i’m- i’m gonna leave, sorry.. uh- dinners ready soon, so..” you muttered awkwardly as you stood up, glancing at chris and the girl slung under his arm. chris’s eyes immediately flickered to you. “are you sure? i mean, we just- just started..” his words were quick, almost begging for you to stay.

“chris, let her leave if she wants to,” his girlfriend shot in, giving you a look that spoke nothing close to kindness. embarrassed, you nodded slowly, giving him a hesitant wave before you closed his door behind you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

summer, 2019

the girls at your school could be.. heinous to say the least. chris had gotten a good handful of friends throughout freshman year who he decided to introduce you to—and lucky, you quickly all got along. but the popularity of him and his friends rapidly grew, and so did the attention from girls.

hot tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, sniffling and trying your best not to cry in the empty bathroom. you were anxiously bouncing your leg, staring down at your fingers while fiddling and fidgeting with them. you just couldn’t get those girls words out of your head.

“they’re definitely more than friends, but i don’t get it. she’s so weird.”

“you could never be good enough for chris, are you kidding?”

“chris would never go for a girl like her, have you seen her? they’re definitely not dating, he’d be dumb to.”

no one understood you were just friends, though maybe, just maybe, you wanted more than that. so with that feeling in your gut already, their words only made you feel ten times more shitty. you truly believed chris would never see you as more than a friend. i mean, at least he was single now, right?

you wanted to ask him out, you really did. but when most days were spent like this, crying and second guessing yourself, was it really worth it? to ruin a perfect and life long friendship?

and were you really that dumb? would chris ever like you as more than a friend? maybe they were right, you weren’t pretty enough.

all those thoughts kept running through your mind until the bell rang, and you hastily stood up, grabbing your bag and making your way out of the stall. quickly, you took a look at yourself in the mirror, attempting to wipe away the tears for your eyes and the few that had escaped to your cheek.

…

“what- justin? are you serious? he’s like, super annoying,” chris gasped, nearly losing grasp of the burger in his hand. you blushed, shrugging while avoiding chris’s eyes, adverting your eyes down at your fries instead. all this talk about chris and whether you were dating him or not lead to you trying to push it away—to find someone else to think about.

chris’s stomach did a weird flip when you said you had a secret crush on a guy, something twisted with jealousy. but he’d never admit it, not to anyone. his brows were furrowed, his head tilted slightly to the side while he stared at you, still struck.

“i dunno.. he’s kinda sweet. and his summer tan is really nice.” you mumbled, stuffing a few more fries into your mouth, looking up at chris. he raised his brows with a smirk, lightly chucking. “you’ve never talked to him, have you?”

your cheeks reddened, but you broke into a giggle along with chris, shaking your head from side to side before you breathlessly spoke up.

“no.. not really.”

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

fall, 2019

“i don’t know- i just.. i feel weird. everyone thinks we’re dating. don’t you think so? that it’s a little weird?” you questioned, turning to look at chris.

it was one of the usual friday’s. chris had finished practice earlier, just out the shower, and now sitting next to you in bed. just like normally, a movie was playing, but you had both forgotten about it.

he felt a weird twinge of feelings raise in his stomach at your words, suddenly feeling a little hot and quizzical—wasn’t this the perfect time to tell you? to pull you in for a kiss? no. there’s never be a perfect time, and he knew.

“i- i don’t know. a little?” his words were hesitant, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of you, acting interested. “but i mean.. we’re basically together all the time, so.. i-i kinda get it.”

your ears turning red and scorching when he spoke, as well as your cheeks. he kind of gets it? what was that supposed to mean?

all you could do was nod, giving his face a quick glance, flickering to his lips before a the tiniest, faintest smile pulled on the corners of your lips. “yeah.. makes sense.” your head leaned onto his shoulder, shuffling closer to him.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

spring, 2022

your eyes were avoiding chris’s, mindlessly searching around the café you were sitting in, chris doing the same. your fingers were laced together with his over the table, awkwardly waiting for the coffee you’d just ordered a few minutes ago.

your smudged lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile, your face tinted a little pink—but not as much as his. chris was trying everything against his will to pull you out of the, actually really nice café, and kiss you senseless, just liked he’d done fifteen minutes ago in his car. “um, so.. d-do you think this is a good?” his free hand turned the menu to you, pointing at the name of a sandwich.

your eyes dipped to the card in front of you, reading over the ingredients. “yeah, yeah it does. do you wanna get it? we could share it.”

all the times you’d gone out with chris for lunch never felt like this. but it made sense. he wasn’t just your best friend anymore. this time it actually had a meaning—he’d asked you out on a date.

he nodded, making eye contact with you for the first time since you had sat in his car, blinking a couple times, but keeping his eyes on yours. “that sounds good.. yeah.” swiftly, he leaned closer to leave a loving but soft kiss to your cheek.

you laughed, shoving him off when he continued, finally feeling that wall of awkwardness fall. “chris, stop. you keep doing that,” you continued giggling, finally succeeding in pushing him away. “i’m just making up for all the time i wasted not doing that,” he murmured with a wide, lovestruck smile, his free hand cupping the side of your face to kiss you properly, definitely making a few heads turn.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

february 14th, valentine’s day, 2025

your face was flushed pink, a small layer of sweat beading across your forehead and bare chest. the marks chris had left earlier on your neck and collarbone matched the smudged but red color on your lips—which was now transferred to his chest, burgundy imprints of your lips pressed to his skin.

“gosh, i love you.. so much, you have no idea angel,” chris’s arms were tightly wrapped around you, one draped under your waist, the other one around the back of your neck while he jerked his hips forward, holding up close. chris’s lips occasionally brushed against yours, the moans you both let one mixing together in a harmony.

you hadn’t planned on having some cliché valentine’s day plans together, especially the red petals and balloons on the bed you had seen and laughed at on the internet. sure, you went out earlier to enjoy the friday, but neither of you expected it to turn into this.. okay lie, you both definitely expected this, but neither of you vocalized it.

now you had your legs wrapped around his waist like he had instructed you to do. but to your pleasure, you dug your heels into his lower back with every thrust, pushing him deeper. “ah, chris, i- i love you too.. so good chris,” a whimper left your maroon, parted lips, before they collided with his.

your sweet noises and praise sent a twinge of fire down his spine, groaning loudly into the kiss when yours fingers pulled him closer by his hair. “can’t- can’t believe i wasted more than half my fucking life without you like this.. i- gosh, i’m so crazy for you,” his words sent electricity through your veins, arching your back to let his chest press to yours with a loud cry of his name.

in the end, you knew deep down it was all worth the wait. your friendship had bloomed into something much more beautiful, much more than just friends.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬... first part is based on a true story. i accidentally cracked a girls brow up, sorry! anyway, it’s valentine’s day so i felt like adding some smut.. just because. sorry😇🤍

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❛❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ���❜

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤBOSTON FOR THANKSGIVING * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N goes back to Boston with Chris and his brothers for Thanksgiving.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The crisp November air bit at Y/N’s cheeks as she followed Chris up the stone walkway leading to the Sturniolo family home. The familiar house with its neatly trimmed hedges and warmly lit windows looked just as welcoming as it had last year, but this time, Y/N felt more at home. It was her second Thanksgiving with Chris and his family, and she already knew what awaited her inside: love, warmth, and a fair bit of chaos.

Chris shifted the bags he was carrying and glanced back at her.

"You ready?" He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N nodded, her own smile spreading wide.

"Always."

The front door swung open by Nick before Chris could even reach for the handle. A blur of caramel fur darted out, running between the boy's legs while barking excitedly.

"Trevor!" Y/N squealed, dropping her own bags instantly. She knelt on the porch, arms open wide as the family dog launched himself into her embrace. His tail wagged furiously, and Y/N giggled as he licked her face with enthusiasm.

Chris stood above them, shaking his head with an amused chuckle.

"Guess I know where I stand." He teased, adjusting the straps of the duffel bags on his shoulders before bending slightly and taking her dropped bags, throwing it over his free arm.

Y/N grinned up at him, scratching behind Trevor’s ears.

"You know you’re second to Trevor." She quipped before pressing a kiss to the dog’s head, inhaling his comforting Dog Shampoo scent.

The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and Mary Lou appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

"There’s my crew!" She exclaimed, her face lighting up at the sight of her boys. She rushed forward, pulling each of them into tight hugs.

"Hi, Mom." Matt said, his voice muffled by her embrace.

"Missed you, Ma." Nick added, smiling fondly as she kissed his cheek lovingly.

When Mary Lou turned to Y/N, her expression softened even more.

"Oh, my sweet girl!" She said, pulling her up and into a hug so warm and tight, it could melt the chill of a Boston winter.

Y/N’s heart swelled.

"I missed you so much." She murmured, squeezing her back.

Mary Lou pulled back just enough to cup Y/N’s face, her eyes bright with affection.

"Missed you too, honey. How’s everything? You’ll have to catch me up on all the details."

"I have so much to tell you." Y/N replied eagerly, already feeling herself slip into the comfort of their mother-daughter dynamic.

"Well, come on then!" Mary Lou laughed, tugging Y/N’s hand and leading her toward the kitchen without so much as a glance back at the boys or their luggage.

Chris watched them go, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"Every time." He muttered, stepping inside with the bags still slung over his shoulders.

Nick snickered.

"We’re chopped liver the moment Y/N shows up."

"Facts." Matt added, grabbing his duffel and heading toward the living room.

As they piled the bags near the staircase, footsteps creaked from upstairs. Jimmy appeared at the top of the stairs, adjusting his glasses as he surveyed the scene.

"Hey, boys!" He called, his voice booming with warmth.

"Hey, Dad!" They chorused, looking up at him.

Jimmy descended the steps, grinning. But when he noticed the absence of Y/N, his grin widened knowingly.

"Let me guess, your mother already stole Y/N, didn’t she?"

Chris laughed, tossing a jacket over the banister.

"Yep. She didn’t even give us a chance to finish saying hi."

Jimmy chuckled, clapping a hand on Chris’s shoulder.

"Sounds about right. That girl’s practically her daughter at this point."

"Don’t we know it." Matt said, rolling his eyes playfully.

In the kitchen, Y/N perched on a stool at the island, recounting stories to Mary Lou as Trevor curled up at her feet. The smell of freshly baked pies filled the air, and the warmth of the room seemed to wrap around Y/N like a blanket.

Mary Lou hung on her every word, her eyes sparkling.

"You’re such a delight." She said, reaching out to squeeze Y/N’s hand. "I hope you know how much we love having you here."

Y/N smiled, her heart full.

"I love being here."

The sound of Jimmy entering the kitchen snapped them back to reality, his steps light but deliberate, making a beeline for Mary Lou, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"Hey, hon." He greeted warmly before turning his attention to Y/N. "And there’s our star guest." He said with a broad smile, extending his arms for a hug.

"Hi, Jimmy!" Y/N replied, returning his embrace with the same warmth she always felt from him. "How's that cabin going?" She asked, remembering the small cabin that Jimmy mentioned during their last 'family call' - how Chris liked to call it, one that he'd been building himself.

"It's finally getting somewhere." He smiled proudly, receiving a gaze full of joy and love from Mary Lou.

"Oh! I just remembered that we need to make a quick trip to the supermarket." She folded her towel, looking up at Jimmy. "I thought we had everything, but we’re out of thyme, and I need more butter for the turkey."

The oldest nodded, already heading toward the door.

"I’ll grab the keys."

"Y/N, you okay holding down the fort?" Mary Lou asked, her voice tinged with both apology and trust.

"Of course." Y/N replied immediately, rolling up the sleeves of her green Harry Potter sweater. "I’ve got this."

Mary Lou smiled, her affection evident.

"Thank you. I'll be back in no time."

As the front door closed behind them, Y/N found herself alone in the kitchen. The comforting sounds of laughter and basketball from the living room filtered through as she turned her attention to the stove.

She moved with ease, stirring sauces, seasoning vegetables, and now chopping fresh herbs for the stuffing. Her movements were precise, her mind immersed in the rhythm of cooking.

"Hey, chef extraordinaire." Chris’s voice broke through the quiet.

Y/N glanced up briefly, spotting him leaning against the doorframe, his grin wide and teasing.

"Need something?" She asked, arching a brow before turning back to her task.

"Yeah." He said simply, stepping into the room. "You."

Before she could respond, she felt his long arms slide around her waist, his warmth enveloping her as he pressed gently against her back. His fingers interlocked over her stomach, and his lips brushed against her cheek in a lingering kiss.

"Chris." She murmured, her voice soft with a mix of exasperation and fondness. "I’m trying to cook."

"I know." He whispered against her ear, his voice low and velvety. His lips trailed a slow path along her jaw and down to her neck, leaving a series of soft kisses in their wake.

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her hands stilling on the cutting board.

"You’re impossible." She said, her tone betraying her amusement.

"I’m thankful for you." He murmured, completely ignoring her comment, his lips brushing against her shoulder. "So, so thankful."

Her heart melted at his words, and she turned her head slightly, her cheeks flushed, but her smile unrestrained.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly.

"And yet, you love me." He replied with a grin, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I really do." She whispered back, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes, enjoying his gentle touch and soft perfume.

Their moment was interrupted by the slam of the front door and Mary Lou’s cheerful voice.

"We’re back!"

The sound of grocery bags being set down and Jimmy’s voice joining the mix signaled their return. Moments later, Mary Lou bustled into the kitchen, her sharp eyes landing immediately on Chris.

"Christopher Owen." She scolded, her tone firm but playful as she placed her hands on her hips. "What are you doing? Let that poor girl work!"

Chris straightened but didn’t release Y/N, grinning like a mischievous child caught in the act.

"I’m just showing her some love, Ma. There's nothing wrong with that."

Mary Lou swatted him lightly on the back of the head.

"Out! Go join your brothers in the living room and let her focus."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks still warm.

"It’s okay, Mary Lou. He wasn’t bothering me too much."

Mary Lou shook her head with a fond smile.

"Don’t defend him, sweetheart. He’ll take advantage of it."

"He totally will!" Nick's voice yelled from the living room, causing laughter to escape Y/N's mouth.

Chris sighed, finally letting go, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender.

"Fine, fine. But for the record, I’m still thankful for you."

He winked at Y/N as he left the kitchen, his retreat punctuated by his brothers’ teasing from the living room.

Mary Lou sighed, her affection for her son shining through even her exasperation.

"That boy." She muttered before turning to Y/N with a warm smile. "You’re a saint for putting up with him, you know."

Y/N paused, her knife hovering over the herbs before glancing toward the door where Chris had disappeared. A soft smile spread across her face, one filled with pure affection.

"I don’t think of it as 'putting up with him,'." She said, her voice warm and sincere. "Loving Chris is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I'm very thankful for him."

Mary Lou’s expression softened, her eyes glistening just slightly.

"Oh, sweetheart." She said, reaching out to squeeze Y/N’s hand. "He’s lucky to have you. We all are."

Y/N smiled bashfully, her cheeks flushing as she returned to her task, but her heart felt lighter than ever.

© vanteguccir

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi 👋🏻 Lou!! Congratulations 🎊🎉 on 6k!!

So how about Arranged Marriage w/ Simon?

Again congrats to 6k 🙃💛🦡

.⋆｡Give 'Em Hell｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Your parents think you need to get married and settle down, so they called in a favour. A big military man of a husband might do you some good just not in the way they think

Warnings: arranged marriage, sort of sugar baby/daddy relationship, misogynist parents, future revenge, mention of hook-ups WC: 986

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You often wondered about the true scope of your family’s stupidity. Sure, there were moments in your childhood where you had the vivid thought that no one could be as ignorant and blatantly idiotic as your parents were but somehow, they had absolutely hit rock bottom of moronic decisions.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m getting married?” Your mother gasped.

“Watch your tone young lady, that is no way to speak to your parents.” She scolded as your father’s expression hardened. There was no question that your parents were ‘traditional’ believing that women were less than their male counterparts in every way but while they had constantly lectured you on those beliefs, they hadn’t gone so far as to inflict them upon you, until now at least. They even helped you and encouraged you through college!

“You’ve been running wild long enough, it’s time for you to do your duty,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “We’ve let you chase your silly little dreams but you’re getting older and your clock is ticking.” Your father clicked his tongue and reached for the tumbler of expensive bourbon on the table beside his recliner.

“We’ve picked out a good man!” Your mother chirped from her place on the expensive love seat next to your father, “He’s highly decorated in the military, he can give you a good life.”

“I don’t give a shit about that! I’m not marrying anybody! Period!” You snarled. Anger curled in your gut, turning your tone sour.

Your father’s glass slammed down onto the wood, making your mother flinch. “You will marry him or I will make your life a living hell. I make one call and no one will want to hire you, not even as a fucking garbage collector. You know the connections I have. Suck it up and be a responsible adult for once.” 

——————

“I don’t want a husband.” The man across from you made a sound that you thought might have been a laugh. Simon, as you had learned from your parents, was a Lieutenant in a special ops task force. Never married, no family to speak of and copious amounts of money, your mother had gleefully added as she literally dragged you into the official-looking building where you would be meeting your future spouse.

He was by all means, an intimidating man. Almost 6 and a half feet tall and wearing a stupid balaclava with a skull on it, he looked more fitting being in a slasher movie than in a conference room negotiating marriage stipulations. His bulky, tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, somehow making him seem even bigger to you, as he leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t want a wife.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. 

“Then why are you here?” 

His massive shoulders rolled back as his head tilted, cracking his neck. “Same as you— orders.” You hummed under your breath and forced your gaze away from his tanned arms and up to his eyes. He was obviously a quiet man but in no way did that intimidate you. He seemed more pissed off at your father who had so rudely guided (shoved) you into the room than he did at you.

You cleared your throat. “I won’t fuck you.” This time, his laugh was more discernible. His broad chest rumbled with the sound.

“‘M not expecting you to, not unless you beg,” you made a face at him but Simon continued, “I get deployed most of the time, I’d just like someone to take care of the house and spend my money.”

“So I would be your sugar baby.” He shrugged.

“If that’s what ya wanna call it. Do what cha want, I don’t care. We just need to show up to official events together.” 

You planted your elbows on the table between you and stared into his brown eyes. Simon didn’t waver. “So you wouldn’t have an issue with me getting a job?”

“None.” He answered quickly.

“Going back to school?”

“I’d happily pay for it.” You raised an eyebrow before a devious smirk crossed your lips.

“Get a lover?” His eyes blazed while he mirrored your position, the swivel chair beneath him groaning with his mass as he leaned forwards, planting his massive palms onto the table.

“I’d like to see you try.” Against your will, heat raced through your body, setting your nerves alight with the thrum of arousal.  Simon’s mask shifted and you imagined that he was smirking at you. 

You tamped down the feeling of wetness between your soft thighs, forcing yourself to remember exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. “You’re a lot different than I was expecting.”

He huffed. “So are you. Thought I was getting stuck with some bratty trust fund baby who’s never even set foot in a thrift store.”

“I thought you were gonna be a crusty old man who wanted me to put out so he could feel better about his broken dick and receding hairline.” Silence settled between you before suddenly, you both broke into peels of laughter, an oppressive weight suddenly lifted from the room. 

You were relieved; Simon seemed at least like a decent human being if nothing else and it appeared that you could continue living your life, although without the occasional hook up here and there. But considering how handsome you presumed your almost husband to be, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“I guess we both got lucky didn’t we?” You wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Or just benefitting from the sheer incompetence of the people that thought this was a good idea.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“So, should we do this then?” You asked. Simon rose from his seat and offered you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. As he pulled you to your feet, he uttered:

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

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