#and i already like leftover mac & cheese better than the day of (it’s my hot take) but it’s extra good with red robin flavor salt on it

[arthur-r]

red robin is so correct for their signature seasoned salt blend. going insane about it

[moonwarriorautumn]

Vacation was Awesome!

Everything went so well for my sister, mom, and I. I got to shop at different stores, eat at nice restaurants, a couple of the hotels I stayed at were very nice, and I got to see many lovely things. First we stayed in Orange County, the night we arrived, where Drea and I went shopping at a mall and later visited my aunt Debbie. My cousin Sarah, and her family also came over to my aunt's place. My aunt's dog, Bella, loved being around me, and just laid down next to me with her head on my lap. I also got to see Debbie's cat, Wilson, who is rather timid around strangers. Debbie told me he usually hissing and scratches strangers, but he didn't do that with me. I let him sniff my hand and managed to pet him just before he hid under a sofa.

My hotel room in Orange had a couple of issues. 1. The coffee maker was filthy so I had to go to Drea and Momma's room to make hot chocolate and 2. The shower/tub was broken. But that wasn't a big deal to me. I was having too much fun to focus on that. On the day we left, I took pictures of the duck pond near the hotel, it was so relaxing. Before driving to San Diego, we went to a exotic fruit store and bought some mangosteen and these little yellow mangos. Our hotel in San Diego was much nicer, and I had no issues with my room, plus we had joining rooms to we were able to see each other easily. Also it had a nice tub that was bigger than the one I had at home, and I had some really soothing baths in it. Later that day, Drea and I went to a sushi restaurant, and boy was the food there great! Our mom wasn't able to go alot of places with us, due to some health issues, but she was enjoyed the time she got to spend with us (and the leftover food we would bring back to the hotel for her.)

The next day, Drea and I shopped at some Japanese stores, then went to a beach area. We had lunch at a cafe then went to see the ocean and the animals that were there. We saw seals, goonies, and pelicans. Later, we ate at a nice fancy restaurant in the city. We split a filet mignon and a side of three cheese mac and cheese. I had to look up the recipe for that mac and cheese, because it's the best I've ever had. We went to one more Japanese store, Daiso, (the previous three we visited earlier didn't have alot of things that I wanted, I think it's because of the quarantine) before heading back to our hotel.

The next day we drove to Solvang. Our rooms there were even better than the ones in San Diego! It was like I had my own little apartment! Drea and I ate at a restaurant and browsed some shops (there weren't that many open at the time) before heading back to our hotel. After having a nice hot shower (that was hard for me to leave), I spent some time with my sister and Momma at their hotel room. The following morning, while I was getting some much needed sleep, Drea and our mom went to have breakfast together. After checking out of our hotel, all three of us went looking at shops and bakeries in Solvang. I managed to find these two adorable dog plushies, and I got two big, chocolate chip cookies.

Later, while on the road, we stopped to eat at a diner. I'm glad that at least on the last vacation day, my mom got to do some fun things. Drea and I felt bad that she wasn't able to join us in other things. Daddy and the kitties were real happy to see us when we came home. I showed him the pictures I took while Drea and I told him what we did. Later that night, Drea and I gave Momma a Mother's Day gift we got for her in Solvang. Slipper socks with cute sloth faces on them (my mom loves sloths!) We had to give it to her then, because the next day, Drea had to fly back home.

I'm really grateful to my parents and my sister for making this vacation happen (of course I paid for my rooms and stuff.) It's what I needed. I'll post pictures here on Tumblr, once I get the ones that Drea took. We've already talked about taking another vacation together next year, but just in San Francisco. When we last went there, we only went to Japan Town and a cat cafe, and went home at the end of the day. Our plan next year is to stay there a couple of nights, so we can see more of the city.

Hopefully, all that walking I did during my vacation helped me lose some of the weight I gained during quarantine. I also barely had any sweets and drank juice instead of soda. Now, I'm gonna get some much needed rest and let my legs recover.

[himbo-beel]

Follower Fic Giveaway!

For @taco-beel - GN! MC bakery owner with returning customer Beel! It was so fun to do this idea and I hope you like reading it just as much as I liked writing it!!!!

____

The building wasn't a new one. Years of powdered sugar had turned the dark counters a pale color and dozens of daily sandwiches had spilled slippery grease puddles no mop could scrub away. A spider web too high to reach had swayed in the breeze of the central air unit, empty of its maker and now only collecting dust rather than flies. Yet new faces came in every day. 

Most of the newcomers were human. Odd, considering the location of the bakery. Not so odd considering those that staffed it. Tucked on the corner of one of the Devildom's busier streets, the bakery was a popular place for both the demons browsing Asmo's newest line of clothes in the boutique across the street or watching Mammon's photo shoots at the fountain further up and students looking for somewhere quiet to wind down after another busy day of classes. There were becoming more and more of the latter, humans and demons alike but humans more often than not. New faces and new voices and new orders, ones you were more than happy to fulfill. It had been a while since you'd have a bear claw or a hot chocolate with just a hint of espresso like they asked for, but for everything that changed there was one that that stayed the same. 

Like clockwork, the bell above the door rang out its welcome to the customer that walked through them. You didn't look up from the dishes you were washing - no one else would be in the bakery at this time of day except for one, and after all the months he'd been showing up he was always more than happy to browse the goods you had on display. You rushed to wipe down the last mug to be rinsed to keep him from waiting too long, hands flying from the sink to the rag to the rack above to let it finish drip drying and hurried to the front to meet him. 

You were worried about the new muffin recipe you tested earlier in the day and that the free samples on the counter weren't all entirely gone, you told yourself, but your gaze never once looked towards the tray by the register. Your eyes were for the customer only. For his broad shoulders and messy red hair. For his bright eyes and small smile beneath them. And the crumbs on his lips that he wiped away with a thumb. 

"Those were good."

You blinked and remembered the muffins. You still didn't look towards the tray. "Were they? I guess I'll have to add them to the menu." You already had a name for them in mind and you scrawled it in large letters on the blackboard above the rows of cakes and brownies and small sandwiches that made up the late afternoon spread.

You were eager to show it off to him the next day. A plate stacked high with the muffins was set in the center of the display, the biscuits and donuts and pastries, fresh and warm, arranged around them in a way to draw the eye. They drew one eye in particular, and you leaned over the counter, elbows propped up on the surface to hold your chin in your hands, to get a better look at his back as he leaned over to look at them. 

"You made more."

You wondered if your smile looked as nice as his. "Of course. They were a big hit yesterday, after all. I ran all out of free samples." He scratched at a cheek, his smile widening. You laughed. "I have another two dozen in the back."

"Can I have them?"

"They're all yours," you said. You dragged the word out and watched his face light up. You knew what you'd started this bakery for, but, sometimes, you thought it was just to see his smile every day. Every day since you'd first turned the open sign to welcome customers in you'd seen your counter graced with his smile. Sometimes it was a wide, like now, when he spotted something especially delicious you made and the sight never failed to make your stomach flutter. Sometimes it was smaller, after a win of one of his games or a particularly good grade he was celebrating. Once in a while there was no smile. Days such as that were rare and far between, and never lasted long when you told him you had too much hot chocolate and needed to get rid of some. Every so often his brothers' laughter would join his own as they filled up the small space with both presence and volume. 

You always only had eyes for Beelzebub. 

You wondered if he knew. 

Wondered if he knew that you checked the clock at the top of the hour and counted the number of minutes it took for him to show up. Wondered if he knew that half the goods you baked were ones he'd said he'd enjoyed the most. Wondered if he knew that, even at home, you found yourself making larger and larger meals, nearly impossible to finish yourself, but no challenge for a demon like him. 

Maybe you could start bringing the leftovers. 

The muffins were packed in a large paper bag and you handed it over the counter, hand lingering on the handles and pulling back only when Beel's brushed against your own to take it. 

"I'm really excited to see if they're as good as yesterday's."

"You should be excited for tomorrow, too." You paused, waiting for the quirk of his brow you knew as his interest. "We're having a lunch special."

He cocked his head. "Have you done lunch special's before?"

You had to bite your lip. So he had noticed something - maybe he'd notice...maybe he'd notice other things. "You have to chance it up every so often to keep things interesting, right?"

Mac and cheese, even Hellfire Style, wasn't all that interesting, but it was easy to make in large quantities and fit in nicely next to the soup of the day. You stacked the mini sandwiches that were to replace the last of the donuts for lunch atop their plate and carried it out to the front. You nearly dropped it when you saw Beel already waiting in front of the counter. Your eyes flicked to the clock. 

"You're early."

His hands were clasped in front of him and he rubbed them together with a small laugh. "You said you were having a special and to be excited for it."

You hid your flush by bending down to slip the sandwiches into their place between small tarts and individual slices of cake topped high with whipped cream. You turned their plates this way and that until you felt confident enough to look him in the eye without breaking into a fit of laughter. "We are. I've been trying my hand at more Devildom foods and finally got it down on something simple."

You couldn't hold back a little laugh when Beel leaned forward, chin up and sniffing the air. "What is it? It smells spicy."

"Just macaroni and cheese. But I thought you'd like to try it."

"I'd love to."

You pressed your lips together as you turned around to grab a bowl. He said he'd love to! Your hand trembled slightly as you spooned a heaping portion into the bowl. And then one more. 

"I was thinking of you when making it," you ventured, turning back around. You were almost thankful that his full attention was on the bowl spilling over with pasta than your words. 

"You were? Of things I like?"

"Something like that."

Beel grinned and you found yourself matching it. "Can you try making whole roasting devil hog too?"

Your smile fell. And then came back, even wider. 

"Why not? What's your favorite seasoning?"

You had time to keep trying. Both with your cooking and your feelings. After all, you'd see him tomorrow, too. 

[chubbyhl]

Vault Fic #2 - The First Stuffing

Hi all -- my girlfriend suggested I post another installment of the “vault fic” aka the feedee Louis fic I started writing a year ago and never finished or showed anyone, but people seem to dig it now. I got some suggestions from awhile back to post more content from it, and people seemed to really like the idea of Louis’s first stuffing, so here you are! A nice long one. Happy Chubby Friday, and enjoy! Please note - this is a feederism centric fic. It won’t be for everyone. Also contains some unrealistic eating for entertainment purposes, don’t try this at home lol. 

-

“I forgot if you put this on your list, but this one my favorite recipes to make,” Harry said. He pulled on two oven mitts and then kneeled down, grabbing the hot dish and pulling it out. He set it on the stove and then closed up the oven, waving to the dish, “It’s five cheese baked mac and cheese. I put a bit of everything in it. White cheddar, sharp cheddar, parmesan, asiago, Swiss…and then some bacon bits, because why not.”

“Oh, that sounds so good,” Louis said, “Probably good I’ll have leftovers of that, too.”

Harry just looked at him, and then smiled, shaking his head.

“Oh, no no,” he said, “This is all for tonight.”

Louis blinked at him.

“Harry, you can’t be serious,” Louis said, “That thing could feed a family of eight.”

“That’s exactly the serving size, yes,” Harry said. He took off his gloves and waved at the dish, “Give it a minute to cool off and then we can start.”

“Harry,” Louis said, “You – you can’t expect me to eat all of that.”

“Well,” Harry shrugged, “I mean, I’ll take you having half at this point. But at some point, I’m going to make this and you’ll definitely have all of it.”

Harry kept moving around the kitchen, getting out dishes and some glasses, and Louis kept staring at the dish of macaroni. What had sounded so delicious a few minutes now loomed in front of him like his personal white whale, something Harry was expecting him to finish. Or at least, finish half of it, when Louis wasn’t even sure he could finish half a regular serving size.

Harry turned around and caught him staring, and smiled softly and came over. He tucked Louis’s cheek into his hand and kisses his forehead.

“How are we feeling?”

“Like you’re fucking with me,” Louis said, “You said today would be easy.”

“Yes, and most of today has been,” Harry said. He held up a hand, ticking down his fingers as he started a list, “Breakfast, just a bowl of cereal. A large bowl, but that’s it. Then some apple and Nutella, then a couple chicken sandwiches, and then a bagel with peanut butter. And lots of Coke.”

“Thank you for reminding me,” Louis grumbled.

“Hey, hey, that’s all easy stuff,” Harry teased, “You didn’t expect me to not spoil you at least a little today, did you?”

Louis wrapped his hands around himself, looking down. He swallowed weakly, and Harry tucked a hand under his chin and lifted him to look at him.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Harry said, “Seriously, just eat what you think you can. But I would be very, very happy if you had half this dish. Like, you have no idea how thrilled I would be.”

Louis glanced at the dish of the pasta again, and then back at Harry. The other man was looking at him firmly, but his eyes were wide and kind, and Louis tried to remember why he was here in the first place. The Kink, yes, but also, he liked Harry. Harry was funny and sweet and cared about him. He wasn’t going to push Louis too far past his boundaries. He would be fine.

So eventually Louis nodded and murmured out “okay,” and Harry grinned and kissed him again before going to grab everything and set it on the kitchen.

Louis sat at the table, right next to Harry’s own seat. Harry poured him a tall glass of water, and then pulled the casserole dish a bit closer to the two of them. He had laid a big spoon next to the dish, and picked it up, glancing at Louis.

“Want me to feed you?” Harry asked, “Not going to lie, I’ve been dying to do that all day.”

“Yeah,” Louis said quickly, “Sure.”

Harry smiled, and then dipped into the dish. The spoon cracked past the crispy layer of baked cheese and breadcrumbs at the top, and Louis licked his lips, which made Harry smile.

“Hungry?”

“I could eat,” Louis said. He was only a bit hungry, maybe enough for a snack, at most, because he’d been eating for a lot of the day. But he could still eat, so he was going to.

Harry grinned, and then picked up the spoon, loaded down with pasta and cheese.

“Okay, open up,” Harry said, and then softened when Louis did so, “Good boy.”

Louis flushed in spite of himself, and let Harry tuck the spoon into his mouth. He chewed, closing his eyes as he tasted it. It was creamy and so, so rich, and he hummed happily as he ate it.

“Wow, oh, man,” he said once he had swallowed, “That’s so good, holy shit.”

“Thanks,” Harry grinned, “I’ve made this more times than I can count and I haven’t gotten any complaints yet.”

“You making your mac n cheese for other boys?” Louis asked as Harry got another spoonful ready.

“That’s funny,” Harry said flatly, “Open up.”

Louis did, letting Harry give him another delicious spoonful. This would be no problem, he thought. The food was so good, surely he was hungrier than he originally thought.

Harry kept tucking pasta into his mouth, smiling at each bite Louis took.

“Doing good, love,” Harry said, “Still taste good?”

Louis nodded and smiled, letting Harry feed him. He took sips of water in between, enough to help him swallow but not enough to get him too full. Harry looked far too pleased with himself as he fed the other man, his movements as steady as his encouragement.

And then, he hit his first wall.

With a quick glance at the dish, he could tell he had only had about a regular serving and a half of the dish, and he was already full. Like, very full. Like he was having trouble chewing the mouthful Harry had just given him.

The other man watched, carefully, and frowned when Louis swallowed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and Louis shrugged.

“I – I’m full, s’all,” Louis said.

“Ah,” Harry nodded, “I see.”

He set down the spoon and nodded towards Louis.

“Lift up your shirt, pet.”

“Um,” Louis said, “What?”

“Lift up your shirt,” Harry repeated, his voice growing a bit firmer. Louis swallowed weakly, and then did what Harry asked and lifted up the hem of his t-shirt.

When he glanced down his stomach was a bit rounded, mostly bloated-looking more than anything. Harry reached out and tugged down the hem of Louis’s sweatpants, under the curve of his stomach. Then he put his hands on the warm skin of Louis’s belly and started rubbing, pressing in firmly. Louis groaned, hiccupping weakly as Harry put pressure on his full belly. Harry just watched him, and kept rubbing, then hooked his thumb into Louis’s belly button and held the curve of his stomach with the rest of his finger and gave his belly a firm jiggle. Louis gasped weakly and then covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stifle a burp working its way through his throat. Harry rubbed his stomach harder and then gave it a gentle pat.

“Any better?” he asked, and Louis blinked at him.

“Uh,” he said, “Maybe.”

“Okay, good,” Harry said, “You let me know if you feel a bit full again.”

Louis just stared at him, but Harry was already gearing up another spoonful. Louis ate it, and he felt like he could swallow with far less difficulty. And he felt fine through another spoonful, and then another.

He hit another wall when they were a fourth of the way through the dish, and once again, Harry went back to rubbing and jiggling his tight belly, which was now rounder and tighter. To Harry’s credit, he was handling it all like a true professional, even though Louis could see his eyes getting darker and wider. He kept digging into the dish, and Louis kept eating it, like another force had taken hold of him. His stomach was screaming at him, bloated and stretched far beyond capacity, but the pasta was so good, and Harry was calling him a good boy as he shoveled food into Louis’s mouth, so he kept going.

He finally, finally hit his final wall when he was nearly into the fifth serving of the dish, and he clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.

“Harry, I can’t,” he panted. He was hot now, and sweating, and his stomach was in pain, and he just couldn’t keep it up.

“Okay, lovey,” Harry said, “Just one more bite? Please? Would make me so happy.”

“I – “ Louis choked out, “I dunno.”

“Come on,” Harry teased, wiggling the full spoon in front of him, “For me?”

“God, fuck you,” Louis breathed out, but even then, he opened his mouth. He accepted the food, and then chewed and swallowed with more effort than he had ever put into anything before, and then when he was done, he leaned back in his chair and cradled his belly delicately. It felt rock hard, and it was stretched, pressing out in a generous curve that stretched out the outline of his abs. Louis stifled another burp and held his hands in front of his mouth, his face turning red.

“Jesus,” he breathed out, “Oh my God.”

Harry leaned forward in his chair, his eyes dark but his smile sweet, and he reached out and put his hands on Louis’s distended stomach.

“Oh, what a good boy,” he cooed, “What a perfect, perfect boy you are.”

He rubbed Louis’s stomach carefully, pushing hard to make Louis hiccup and then just skimming his hands over the curve, touching and enjoying.

“Oh, Louis, we’re going to have so much fun,” he sighed happily. Louis just hiccupped again.

“I need to lay down,” he got out weakly.

“Of course you do,” Harry said quickly, “C’mon, I’ll get you up, and then I’ll give you another nice rub down. Does that sound good?”

Louis just gave Harry a nod, and then the other man was on his feet, helping pull Louis up. Instinctively, Louis’s hands went to his full, bloated stomach, and he whined, but Harry just held him, kissed the back of his head.

“Let’s get you to the couch. Good boy. Come on,” he said, “You ate what I made you so well, you deserve some rest.”

Louis’s eyelids were already drooping, the food in his belly making him sleepy, so he just nodded and let Harry guide him.

[diabloindigo]

Are you the person to open a box of cereal just to get the toy inside? As a kid yes. Right now, I don’t buy cereals with prizes anymore. Do they even stuff toys in cereal these days? 

Do you get scared easy? If it’s in the anxiety induced variety, yes. 

What was one of the stupidest things you cried over when you were little? Not sure, it could have been anything from not wanting to wear a fancy dress or dress shoes to a party or a broken toy. 

Have you ever drank milk from the carton? Despite having a working dishwasher and plenty of glasses, I “waterfall” milk and juice from the containers. 

Juice or milk? I go both ways, leaning more towards juice. Apple or orange. 

Do you ever turn off your computer properly? Once in a while. 

Do you wish you were a fish? Not really, though I kinda envy the blue Dory (Doctor Fish?) in the tank at my gynecologist’s waiting room. It likes to swim to the bottom of the tank and ride up to the top on a bubble jet. That damn fish has probably had more fun than I have in the past several months. 

Who’s your favorite super hero? Invincible (Amazon Prime). Along with Spider-Man (2002) and the Big Hero 6 movie, that character/series is a rare superhero show that makes me feel strong and vulnerable at the same time. 

Who’s your favorite super villain? Slade Wilson/ Deathstroke as seen in “Teen Titans: The Judas Contract” animated movie and the 2003-2006 “Teen Titans” cartoon series. 

Spiderman or X-men? Spider-Man. Tobey Maguire and Peter B. Parker from Into the Spiderverse. 

Movie theatre or stay at home movie night? Theaters. Alamo Drafthouse. I love ordering boozy milkshakes and finger foods.

Do you have a Blue Ray? I have one of those external drives for my Mac though I never use it. 

How about HD television? Yeah

Do you think HD television is kind of a waste of money? No. 

Do you get why people get so frickin’ freaked out during football season? I do not, and living in a state with a hard-on for (American) football makes it weird when I tell people that I do not have a favorite football team/player. 

Do you ever sneak scraps to the dog even though you’re not suppose to? I don’t sneak him food. If I cook or order too much to eat, then I scrape a couple of cup’s worth of leftovers in his bowl. He’s probably got only a year to live so let him live it up a little. 

Are you reading a book right now? If so what? A friend gave me a copy of “The Only Good Indians” but I can't get into it so I’m reading “Full Throttle” by Joe Hill. 

What was the last book you were required to read for school? It’s been so long I can’t remember. 

O donuts or jelly filled? Whipped cream filled. I love Krispy Kreme’s whipped cream filled donuts with raspberry filled donuts as a close second. 

If I’m feeling bland then I do like crullers. 

Do you like your ice-cream in a bowl or cone? Bowl unless it’s a tasty cone. 

Marshmallows in your hot chocolate or no? I could go either way unless it’s a tiny cup of chocolate. 

Do you like cherry coke? Hell yes. I love going to Sonic for a cherry-vanilla-lime Coke or this greasy little 1950s type burger joint for their cherry cokes since they load the cups with several cherries. 

Do you really think diet Dr. Pepper is the equivalent of a cupcake? No, it tastes artificial. Like a bastard child of a soft drink that wants to pass for cherry soda. 

Do you snore in your sleep? Drool? Talk? Snore and talk (I’m pretty stressed out).

Have you ever sleep walked? no

Are you a morning person? I am now. 

How do you wake up in the mornings? by alarm during the work week, naturally at 6-7 on vacation days. 

Do you think guyliner is hot? What is that? 

Is variety the spice of life? yeah

Do you think strawberry milk is disgusting? I like it. 

Have you ever drank after anyone? Like sharing a cup/bottle? Yeah, loads of times.  

Have you ever drank after anyone you don’t know very well? No. 

Do you have any limits on who you drink/eat after?

If we’re talking about sharing, then I will share food/drink with family and friends. If someone offers me bite-size pieces that are individually wrapped or can be torn off the main portion, I’ll eat it, but only from co-workers or acquaintances. 

Would you eat a sucker if someone already ate some of it? No. 

Would you chew somebody else's gum? Hell no. 

Do you know anyone who’s going to die of mono because of that? No. 

Do you enjoy school? My English and psychology classes. 

Are you a teacher’s pet? no

Do you have a job? Yes. 

How did you get to and from school? Parents drove me or I walked for elementary through high school. I drove when I went to college. 

Do you have a bedtime? And if so what is it? I’m in bed between 11-12 a.m.

What time do you get up? 6 am so I can walk/exercise before the sun boils the earth in full force. 

Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? Yeah in college. 

What’s more important? Beauty or brains? brains

Do you believe in yourself? Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t. 

Did you ever want to be an astronaut when you were little? No. Being a veterinarian or scientist were my highest ambitions as a small kid. 

How about the president? Never. 

What did you want to be when you were little? Veterinarian, scientist, cartoon character. 

Did you ever want to be a super model? no

Do you believe you’re attractive enough to be a super model? No.

Have you ever had an X-ray? Several in the past few months for pre-surgery and dental work.

What’s your favorite guy’s name? What’s your favorite girl’s name? Guys’: Shane, Mark, Tadashi, Austin, Cade, Trip.

Girls’: Quince, Sienna, Amy, Kit, Lizzie (Elizabeth), Raven.

Who’s your second cousin’s, grandparent’s, sister? The fuck...

Do you laugh to yourself whenever the ketchup bottle farts? No, in fact, I get annoyed when other people hear it and ask me if I farted. 

Do you have any real guns in your house? I have several. 

Do you know how to use nunchucks? No, I bought a pair at one of those Asian imports emporiums, but I donated them since I never learned to use them. They were these crappy foam padded ones with dragons printed on the handles. 

Do you know anyone who can use nunchucks? No. 

What do you want to be next Halloween? In better health and not shitting bricks about using up my paid time off to go to doctors’ appointments. 

Did you ever consider getting a job as a mall Santa? No. I’d rather be one of his elves or a reindeer. 

Are you the one responsible for taking out the garbage? Yes. Grosses me the fuck out sometimes with smelly discarded poultry trays or rotten food, but somebody’s gotta do it. 

Do you recycle? My city has the blue recycling bins, but I heard that since we’re an ass-backward community, “recyclables” and trash all go to the same place. I just place recyclables in the blue bin to help clear up space in the trash bin. Maybe I’m wrong and this city does recycle? Can’t hurt. 

When I was 11, I’d collect empty soda cans to take to the recycling guy since back in the day, they’d pay for aluminum cans. That’s how I scraped up funds for dollar movies and hot dogs. 

Are you a pyro? Yeah. I carry/collect Zippo lighters but mostly because the “click-click” is satisfying to hear since I flip the lids open and closed to relieve stress. And I burn a lot of old bills and letters with sensitive info on them. 

What was the last word/thing you wrote down? I was researching high fiber foods that are also low in carbs to make a grocery and dinner meal plan. 

Sleeping or eating? After my surgery, sleeping. 

Are you overall a positive person? I try to be realistically positive, if such a thing exists. The world will never be all sunshine and My Little Ponies, but I try to find some comfort and positivity when my world is a shit-show. Filling this survey out kinda helps. 

Do you hate hypocrites? Yeah, especially the “do as I say, not as I do” types. 

For instance, a certain family member is pushing good diet and health habits, but it aggravates the hell out of me if I see him drinking high sugar iced tea or eating ice cream. Or Door-Dashing Burger King, even if it is a Beyond Whopper with a diet Coke. 

Do you like to prank people? Yes, but I do benign pranks like leaving dirty riddles and meme drawings on their front doors. 

What was the worst prank you’ve ever done on anyone? I tried fucking with a telesolicitor but I could not stop laughing. 

Have you ever jumped on a trampoline in the ice? I don’t own a trampoline. 

Have you ever ice skated? No. I tried once after a local minor league hockey game. I got the skates on, but my ankles were bending/bowing out so I changed my mind.

Ever water skiid? No. 

Is vacuum spelled funny? Yes. 

Democrat or republican? I don’t associate formally with either party, but I hitch my pony a little to the left. 

Who’s the biggest asshole you know? My former boss circa 2013. Very unprofessional and a veritable loudmouth and a poor (shit) showman wannabe. 

Pen or pencil? Gel-ink pens. 

Should all paper have holes? nope

Speaking of holes. Swiss cheese, what’s the point of that? Fewer calories? Spinning slices in my hand like a TV cowboy spinning his revolver in the trigger guard with his finger? 

Have you ever been in a helicopter before? No. 

Own any airbrushed tshirts? Nope, not even in the nineties. 

Have you ever been suspended? No. 

Have you ever been in a fist fight? A few playground fights as a kid. 

Ever said something to someone that you didn’t mean to say? Yes. 

Do you forgive too easily? I don’t think so. 

What are you listening to right now? The AC running. 

Have you ever seen any of MCR’s music videos? Nope. 

Are you tan? No. 

Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. I have no desire to look like a Cheeto or woo skin cancer. 

Have you ever played water volley? Once at my uncle’s neighborhood swimming pool. 

Ever had a sunburn? Yes, from neglecting sunscreen re-applications or underestimating the sun. 

How about wind burn? It hurts….. Nah, I don't live in a cold enough climate for that. 

What was the first word you learned how to say? I think it was “mama.”

[sds-descendants]

Chapter One: A Beginning to an End

I know I haven’t finished all the drawings yet, but I really wanted to add their stories! I hope you all like it. If any of you would like to be tagged for updates, just let me know.

Also, I would really appreciate some feedback. It’s not necessary, I would just like to give you all the best I can.

Thank you!

-Luna

~~~

In life, everything has to come to an end, but there is no need to worry. Though something has ended, a new beginning will arise. This story begins with a girl - a girl who will end, just as soon as she begins her start.

The girl was Arabella Ortiz, a human at the age of twenty, woke up in her bed by her cat smacking her face. She scrunched up her face and groaned in protest, pushing her cat away. She pushes herself up in her bed and sits there, staring down at her patterned blanket, mentally preparing herself for the day. She furrowed her eyebrows as her cat came back into view. Oh, yeah, her cat… she had almost forgotten about him. It had been a year. 

Her eyes widened and she reached for her phone, turning it on to see the date. March 24… Her eyes lingered on the year. It hadn’t changed… but she had stayed for a year.

She remembers returning from the Devildom, but was completely confused on how little time had passed. Everything was the same. Her cat was okay and everything was the same in her apartment that she didn’t lose - the two things she cared about in the moment. Her time spent down in the Devildom felt like a dream. Did she truly experience everything or was it just a dream?

If it was a dream, it was clear. Clear enough to be a story. Arabella clasps her hands together and hops out of her bed to grab her journals to work again. Her manager was going to love this. Maybe it could be her final break. She quickly began to work on the story before any small detail could fade. 

She was quick to make small notes on everybody’s character from her own experience:

Lucifer; stressed out “father” of the group

Mammon; will do anything for a dollar grimm.

Leviathan; very shy at first, but opened up the longer she stayed. Games 24/7

Satan; seems like the only rational one around. He’s either reading or tearing apart a room, no inbetween.

Asmodeus; very flirtatious and narcissistic.

Beelzebub; intimidating at first sight, but is very kind. Is always hungry.

Belphegor; a bit snarky, didn’t exactly like him at first. Will fall asleep anywhere.

She began to think of all her interactions of these odd characters and giggled to herself as she began to spread out everything for her work area.

---

It had been eight days since Arabella started her manuscript. She had been writing out all her ideas, phrasing, and plot points for the book. It was a small dent, but it was better than what she had before - nothing. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she shook her head, ignoring it. She continued to write down everything she could. Her stomach rumbled again, but this time, it was painful. She placed her hand on her stomach and sighed. She didn’t want to eat, she was so close to finishing, but her body was against this idea. The only time she had gotten up was to either feed her cat, get some water, or to clean herself up in the bathroom. She sighs again and forces herself up to leave her room.

She enters her kitchen and skims through what she had. She caught a small pizza box on one of the shelves in her fridge. With a quick once-over, she deemed it as edible.

It started out normal. Heating up the pizza leftovers that she was grateful to still have.

Then, some mac-and-cheese.

A sandwich.

A pudding cup.

...Then it became strange when she began to mix things up she would usually consider as gross. Pickles and ice cream, hot dogs with whipped cream as a dipping, even making a peanut butter and mayo sandwich. Any other time, she would gag, maybe vomit, at the combination, but she ate them like they were the best things she’s ever eaten. She just needed something to fill her up, anything. Whether it was good for her or not, she shoved it down her throat.

She just couldn’t stop. She was hungry, starving. No matter how much she ate, it felt exactly like how she started.

Was… was this how Beelzebub felt? Every day, just being hit with a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied. It was painful. She really felt bad for him now. Her jaw began to ache and she just wished for once that her stomach would ache as well.

It didn’t take long for her fridge and cabinets to be cleaned out. She sat on her tiled floor, finally feeling her stomach ache with fullness, staring at the now empty fridge. She couldn’t wrap her mind around how she was able to do that. She groaned and leaned her head back, letting it hit against the cabinet.

---

Arabella stared with wide eyes at the five pregnancy tests that sat on her bathroom counter. They were all marked positive. She had been throwing up and gaining extra weight within the last month. The thought of being pregnant had crossed her mind and she only took the tests for shits and giggles, but for them to actually be positive… She didn’t understand it.

She shook her head and rubbed her face. No way. There was no way! How long was it since she had sex? Three years? Why was she suddenly pregnant? Arabella truly didn’t understand it.

Her phone began to ring loudly and she snapped out of her thoughts. She left the bathroom to go to her bedroom. She quickly grabbed her phone from on top of her bed and grimaced at the name of her manager. She sighed before answering with a meek, “Hello?”

“Ortiz, where have you been?”

“I’ve been working. And I know what you’re going to say. I already have a manuscript for you. I just need to edit a few things and it should be in your email by the end of the day.”

“Finally! You know, I almost gave up on you,” he told her with a laugh.

She rolls her eyes. “Good to know. Bye, David.” She quickly hung up the phone before he could respond.

She sighed as she grabbed her laptop. After fixing up everything she deemed necessary, she quickly typed up an email for her manager and added on her story of the Devildom. She moved her mouse over the send button and left it to hover. She stared at the email, at the attachment.

Something inside of her was telling her not to do this. It just felt… wrong. Wrong to expose the world like this. Arabella shook her head. No, that’s stupid. The Devildom isn’t real, this is just a book.

...or was it actually real?

No. She was just being dumb. She moved to click on the button.

She moved the mouse towards the file. She deleted the attachment and decided to send her manager an entirely different piece of work - one she had given up on. It was better than nothing.

She had given in to her own paranoid thoughts.

And why she couldn’t bring herself to do it, she’ll never know.

---

Now, Arabella knew her pregnancy was not normal. The baby she was carrying was developing way too fast, even her doctor noted that exact same thing. The doctor predicted that she would be due by the fourth month if the baby, or he, continued to develop as quickly as he was. She was eager to learn that she would have a boy, not as eager that he would come out way earlier than expected.

Though everything about this pregnancy was strange, Arabella felt cheerful to have started a family of her own. It would just be the two of them, but she didn’t care. She hummed to herself as she continued her walk home, which wasn’t too far from the office. What should she name him? Michael? Fabian? Who knows?

She saw her apartment complex come into view and began to speed up her pace, though, it wasn’t much. She made her way through the complex, feeling grateful for her past self for agreeing on an apartment that was closer to the front. 

After finding her home, she unlocked the door and made her way in, dropping her things onto her door side table. She worked her way towards her living room and looked around to find her cat before they could spook her, but she froze.

She noticed two dark figures sitting on her couch, petting her cat that sat in between them. She began to shake in fear, with only negative thoughts in her mind. This was not how she wanted to die. 

She heard a low chuckle come from one of the two and saw them slowly stand with their arms up to show that they weren’t holding anything dangerous. “It’s alright, Arabella. We mean no harm.”

She began to palm the living room wall to find the light, keeping her eyes on the intruders in front of her. She froze up once more upon actually seeing who it was. She recognized the two men as Diavolo and Barbatos. Two demons that she had met in her dream. Or was it even a dream at all? Arabella placed a hand on her forehead, mumbling incoherent words to herself.

Barbatos, lowered his arms and quickly made his way to her to help her find a seat. “Don’t stress too much,” he whispered.

“Y-you’re Diavolo and… and Barbatos.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “I thought it was a dream,” she muttered.  “But you’re here,” she began to poke his face, trying to see if he was truly before her. “And you’re real. That means…” She felt her cheeks become warm. “Everything we’ve done…” She shook her head and looked up at Diavolo from where she sat. “W-what are you doing here?”

A look of grief flashed across the larger demon’s face. “We’ve come to talk to you.”

“About what?”

His eyes flickered down to her stomach for a fleeting moment. “Your child.” At the mention of him, Arabella placed her hands protectively on her stomach. “What about him?”

He brightened. “A boy? Oh, how exciting is that. Isn’t it, Barbatos?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Diavolo, what do you want with my child?” She asked him sternly. His smile faded. He had a far off look in his eyes as he laughed dryly. “For the year I’ve known you, it’s definitely not surprising that you’re this straight forward.” He sighs before pulling a seat for himself to sit in front of her. He clasps his hands together and leans towards her slightly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that this pregnancy is far from normal.” 

She nods. “Yes, I was told that he’s due in two months.”

“He is no ordinary child, Arabella. He’s meant to be a child of a demon.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“I’ve done some research on you and your child. I believe the father is…” He paused and looked at the demon beside him. “Oh, who is the father, Barbatos?”

“Beelzebub,” He answered with no hesitation.

“Oh, yes, yes. The father is Beelzebub. I’m sure you remember him.” She didn’t answer him, just had the same look of shock. Beelzebub? But how? “Arabella, I need you to listen to me carefully.” She looks at him with furrowed eyebrows. His expression softens and he gently cups her cheek with his hand. “My, my, you’re just absolutely glowing with beauty.”

“Diavolo,” she snapped at him.

He becomes saddened. “You need to get rid of it.”

It took her a second to register what he said. “Excuse me?” She screeched at him. “I am not getting rid of him!”

“You don’t understand. You and your sister coming to our world was a test my father let me do. After what happened with you two, he’s convinced that demons, humans, and angels shouldn’t be connected in any way. If he finds out that you’re carrying-”

“I don’t give a shit what your father thinks!”

“Arabella, please-”

“I refuse to give him up. I thought you cared about the relationship between the three realms.”

“I do, I do, but he hasn’t let go of the throne yet. If it were my decision, I wouldn’t be forcing you to do this.” He carefully places his hand on her lower stomach. “I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

Arabella felt a cold dread run through her body and she began to try to push his hand away. “Stop! Stop it, Diavolo!” She began to kick at his legs, scratch at his arms, anything to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept his eyes lowered and had a frown on his face. “Diavolo, please,” She began to beg as tears welled up in her eyes. She was about to lose her child. This thought began to make her cry harder. “Please, don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt Basil!”

He noticeably tenses up and looks at Arabella with wide eyes. He slowly pulls his hand away, keeping his gaze fixed on the human girl in front of him. She quickly covered her stomach and continued to slowly push herself away from him with her feet. “She gave him a name.” He looks at Barbatos. “He already has a name.”

Barbatos nods. “It seems to be that way, My Lord.”

Diavolo looks back at her. “Arabella-”

“Get out.” Diavolo isn’t shocked. Not even angry. He slowly gets up and places the seat back to its original spot. He turns back to her and she notices a pained look in his eyes. “I’m so-”

“Get. Out.”

Arabella blinked and the two demons were gone. She gave a sigh of relief and leaned back in her seat. She gently carressed her stomach, feeling much better knowing that he was safe. She thought about what she said earlier. Basil. There was no second thought about that name. It just… came out. She smiled to herself. “I’ll always keep you safe, Basil. Always.”

---

“Oh, Basil, my beautiful boy.” Arabella cooed at her son. She peppered gentle kisses on his forehead. “I love you… I love you so much.” Basil began to fuss and Arabella immediately knew what was bothering him; he was after all Beelzebub’s son. She hushed him as she adjusted herself to feed him once again, ignoring the slight pain she was already gaining. As he began to feed once again, she whispered to him. “You’re gonna be the kindest boy,” she giggles to herself. “Your father is also very kind. Handsome too. I wonder who you’ll grow to be more like… Will it be him or me?” She gently caressed his cheek. “I hope it’s your father.”

There was a gentle knock at the door before a nurse came in with a smile. “How are we doing, mom?”

Arabella beams. “Very good. He’s such a good boy, I’m really happy.”

“That’s wonderful.” The nurse peeks at Basil and giggles. “Oh, he’s quite a hungry boy.”

She laughs at the nurse’s comment. “Oh, you don’t even know.”

The nurse looked confused for a moment before collecting herself. “Well, I just wanted to let you know that you have some guests. I didn’t want to just send them in without telling you first.”

She looked away in thought. Who could it be? Her sister was dead, her mom gave up on her, and she hasn’t spoken to her father in years. She was curious. She looked back at the nurse. “What are their names?”

The nurse looked to the side in thought. “It’s two men with strange names - Diavolo and Barbatos. I think they're foreign."

Arabella clenched her jaw and forced a smile. "Yes, I know them. They can come in."

The nurse nods before checking that Arabella and the baby were good, with both vitals and necessities, and left the room. Arabella leans back carefully, mentally preparing herself for whatever was to come. 

She heard the door open and a pair of footsteps making their way inside. She watched as the two familiar men walked into her room.

“Arabella, look at you! Already a natural mother.” She glared at Diavolo who was now shifting on his feet at her silence. He lifted up his hands to reveal a bouquet of flowers  “I found these flowers for you. They’re native to the Devildom and I thought you would like them.” The bouquet of flowers he held were black with hints of fuschia. Arabella didn’t want to admit it to him, but she did like them. “I only want to apologize for last time.” She pulled her eyes away from the flowers to look at him. “I was hoping to maybe... compromise?”

Arabella furrowed her eyebrows and scoffed at him. “Compromise?” She hissed at him.

Diavolo’s eyes moved from her face, down to where she was feeding. A large smile bloomed across his face and he gently placed the flower on top of the overbed table in front of Arabella. “May I… hold him?”

She only narrowed her eyes and held Basil closer, giving Diavolo a silent refusal.

He flexed his fingers and slowly placed his hand on the edge of the bed, careful to not touch her. “Please. I won’t hurt him, you have my word.” Arabella looked away from the two. 

“I don’t want to compromise or whatever it is you want. I only let you in here to tell you to leave me and my son alone. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, Diavolo.” She looked away from the two.

His eyes widened a bit and he pulled his hand away. He forced a smile and crossed his arms. “Ah. I understand. Barbatos and I shall take our leave, then. Take care.”

It was now silent, aside from Basil noisily eating. 

Arabella released a large breath and looked back to where the two demons once stood. They were gone. She looked down at her still feeding baby and gently caressed his cheek with her thumb. She moved her eyes to the flowers on the table and she glared at them. She knew that this wasn’t over. Whatever Diavolo wanted, she knew he would get.

[omgrachwrites]

Ocean Avenue (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

Summary: When Darcie Baker - the daughter of a police officer - breaks her misfit friend’s heart at 16 she regrets it everyday even after she graduates though she knows she can’t go back and change what happened. Everything changes when over 10 years later she meets the gorgeous mechanic.

Warnings: fluff, little bit of angst, slow burn

Words: 2310

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this part, sorry its a little late but please let me know what you think, I love you all very much! xxx

Part Five

Bucky took another bite of his delicious, steaming hot slice of cheese pizza; pizza was definitely something that he had missed while he was in the army. Some reality show rubbish was on TV, ‘The Bachelor’ it was called but Bucky really wasn’t taking any of it in. There was suddenly a loud call from upstairs that slightly startled Bucky and he cursed underneath his breath as he jumped.

“Hey Buck! Are you sure that you don’t want a beer?” Steve called.

Bucky started to shake his head before he realised that he was an idiot because Steve obviously couldn’t see him, “no thanks bud, I’m good with my pizza,” he took another mouthful and continued to speak, slightly muffled, “I need to do a deep clean at the garage so I don’t think that drinking is really a great idea,” he chuckled as he swallowed his food.

There was silence for a brief moment until it was broken with the thud of Steve’s footsteps, slightly muffled by the thick carpet. When Steve entered the room his face was apologetic.

“Sorry Buck.”

Bucky shot his best friend a strange look; he had no idea what Steve was sorry for, “what the hell for man?”

“I didn’t know that you were doing a deep clean tonight, I’ll help you out,” he gave Bucky a smile as he reached for his cell phone.

“Whoa, whoa,” Bucky started, causing Steve to take a halt in his movements, “bro, you’ve got a date night with the woman of your dreams, don’t be cancelling that for anybody, not even me. I wouldn’t have asked you to help me anyway bud, it’s my responsibility. Thanks for the offer though,” Bucky grinned as he clapped Steve on the shoulder, he was so happy that Steve had a date tonight, by the sounds of it Peggy was a great girl.

The only thing that worried Bucky was the fact that Peggy was pretty good friends with Darcie. The last thing that Bucky wanted was for Steve to be hurt the way that he had been – Bucky was finally starting to admit to others and to himself that Darcie had hurt him. Though, Bucky trusted Steve’s judgement, he liked Peggy a lot.

“Thanks Buck, I’d best get going,” he chewed his bottom lip nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair, “do I look okay?” he chuckled, gesturing at himself.

Bucky grinned and nodded his head, “you look great man, now go get her and be safe, yeah?” he gave Steve a bro hug before Steve left the apartment for the night.

Bucky finished off his pizza before he grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and he left the apartment to get to his garage. The garage really was a mess and Bucky silently cursed himself for not cleaning it more regularly but there was nothing he could do about his procrastination now except to clean. Technically the garage should be deep cleaned at the start and at the end of every month but Bucky had really left it for too long.

It was a lot harder than Bucky had originally foreseen, about an hour into his cleaning Bucky took on a sweat as he scrubbed the floor so he discarded of his shirt, mopping his sweating forehead with it. Another thirty minutes went by and he heard the click of high heels on the cemented pavement, causing Bucky to look up from his scrubbing. It was Gemma and she was looking really quite pretty as she strolled by in towering heels and a short red lace dress. He vaguely wondered when she was going back to college.

As presumed, her made up eyes flickered over to the garage, her face lighting up when she saw Bucky standing in the doorway.

“Bucky! Hi, what are you doing here this late?” she paused as she checked her watch, “it’s nearly ten.”

Bucky smiled as he leaned against the handle of the mop, almost blushing as Gemma’s eyes raked down his sculpted shirtless chest, her eyes lingering on a couple of pale scars that he’d gained in the army.

“I’m doing a deep clean that should be done twice a month but I only do it every couple of months,” he chuckled, “you look great, where have you been?”

Gemma flushed at his complimenting words and she shrugged as she flipped a couple of curls over her shoulder, “I’ve been on a date, it didn’t go too well,” she sighed and suddenly glanced at Bucky from beneath her coated eyelashes, “who was that woman that was here a couple of months ago? Seemed like you knew her, she was pretty.”

Bucky chewed his plump bottom lip as he fidgeted, “she’s just someone that I went to high school with,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“She also seemed like a bitch,” Gemma confessed causing Bucky’s head to snap up and look at her in the eyes, very slightly narrowing his eyes. He had half a mind to defend Darcie before he shook himself out of it and he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah she is.”

“You deserve so much better Buck, you deserve the world,” she shrugged making Bucky smile. Once upon a time he would have given anything for Darcie to think about him like that, “bye Buck,” she blew him a kiss with a little wave.

“See you later doll,” he smiled.

Gemma was the only one that came to visit Bucky that night, at about quarter past 11 he heard a car door slam. Bucky glanced up in interest to see a light blue car, his eyes bugged out slightly and he felt his stomach drop when he realised who it was. It was Darcie’s dad, Bucky really hadn’t missed him.

“What are you doing this late son?” he asked as he walked over to Bucky, his hands on his belt buckle.

His eyes showed no sign of recognition and although Bucky had to admit that it had been a while since he’d seen Darcie’s dad, it was strange that he didn’t recognise Bucky considering how much he had hated him. Bucky stood to full height and tried to make himself look like a law abiding citizen – which to be fair, he was now.

“I’m doing a deep clean sir, this is my garage you see,” he said as respectfully as he could while he gestured around the space.

At his words Darcie’s dad smiled which deepened the lines around his tired looking eyes, “a hard worker, I respect that,” he held out a hand for Bucky to shake, “I’m Officer Andrew Baker, and you are?”

He had introduced himself as a police officer though he had turned up in his regular clothes and he wasn’t in a squad car which was weird considering that he was talking like he was on duty. Bucky still thought that it was extremely odd that Andrew seemed to not recognise him at all.

“uh,” Bucky paused for a second, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip, unsure of how to proceed, “James Barnes,” he opted for his real name as he shook Andrew’s hand.

A strange look crossed Andrew’s face for just a second before he smiled again, “it’s nice to meet you son, you let me know if you need anything now,” he nodded.

“Thank you sir, I will,” he muttered as Andrew strode away.

After that strange conversation Bucky was pretty distracted, in fact, he was so distracted that while he was cleaning up some broken glass that looked like it had been there for a while, he sliced his hand open because he wasn’t paying enough attention to what he was doing. He yelped like a kicked dog as pain shot through the palm of his hand, the wound looked pretty deep.

“Jesus,” he muttered darkly as he grabbed a clean towel and pressed it against his stinging wound. The bleeding went on for a while and Bucky actually started to feel a little light headed and he knew that Steve would kill him if he didn’t get it looked at. That was the reason why he reluctantly wrapped his hand up and he managed to drive himself to the ER.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long, exhausting day Darcie was walking towards the locker room, her heart set on the leftover mac and cheese that she had in her refrigerator. She had been working like a dog for the past week and she knew that she’d be too tired to cook so she’d been living on leftovers. Her movements stopped as she heard the Chief of Staff Bruce Banner call out to her.

“Hey Darcie, wait up!” she turned to see him walking quickly down the hallway towards her, “before you go, some guy with a sliced open hand has just come in. He was really nervous so he’s kind of high on pain meds right now. I want you to take care of it; your fellow interns are idiots.”

“Bruce,” she groaned tiredly, while she was flattered by the compliment she really wanted to get home.

“Please Darcie, you’d really be saving my life,” he pouted, using those dark chocolate puppy dog eyes to his advantage. It made Darcie narrow her eyes; she hated it when he pouted like a child.

“For god’s sake Banner! Fine!” she threw her hands up in defeat; tempted to smile by the way he was grinning at her.

As soon as they walked into the pit – that’s what they called the area for people who didn’t need emergency surgery – she saw Bucky and he saw her. They just started at each other with wide blown eyes and Darcie admired the way thick strands of inky black hair fell over his forehead. The tension in the room was building quickly, so quickly that even Bruce felt like something was amiss.

“What’s the matter?” at the sound of Bruce’s voice the spell between Darcie and Bucky was shattered.

Bucky’s facial expression darkened, his brows pinched together in a frown, “I don’t want to be seen by her,” he slurred due to his pain meds.

Bruce looked pissed off as he raised a thick eyebrow, “well unlucky for you buddy, she’s our best intern,” Darcie almost glowed at the compliment.

“An intern?” he snickered, “so you’re not even a proper doctor.”

“Shut the hell up Bucky,” she growled, already annoyed that he was delaying her from going home and she made her way towards him to inspect his wound, it was really pretty deep.

She started by picking the large shards of glass out of his palm and making sure the wound wasn’t infected, “I had a fight with some glass, it was saying shit behind my back,” he almost giggled at his lame joke.

“You obviously lost then,” she said shortly causing Bucky to glare at her.

As she was stitching up his hand, he spoke out again, causing Darcie to jolt in her movements, “I saw your dad today, he didn’t recognise me. What’s up with that?” he asked.

Darcie chewed her lip for a second before replying, willing her voice not to shake, “you’re probably not that memorable Bucky.”

“You’re such a bitch,” Bucky huffed and she rushed to close his wound, not wanting to spend another moment with him.

“How are you getting home Bucky?” Darcie asked as she cleared away her work station, even though he’d annoyed and insulted her she was still worried about him.

He hesitated for a second and he even looked a little worried, “Steve’s on a date,” he slurred, “I brought my car,” he made to get up, freezing when Darcie stopped him by resting  a hand on his knee.

“Sorry,” she withdrew her hand, “I’m not letting you drive yourself home, it’s very irresponsible. I’m clocking off now so I’ll drive you back, you can come and get your car when you’re better,” she was surprised when he didn’t try and put up a fight.

As Darcie was driving Bucky back to his place she felt her eyelids droop slightly and she had the wild thought that maybe it would be safer for Bucky to drive, she almost snorted at this ridiculous idea. It proved how tired she was. Bucky hadn’t said anything since they had got into the car and honestly, Darcie preferred it, the radio was playing softly in the background. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Bucky’s head drop back onto the car seat and he looked at her through brilliant blue eyes.

“What is the whole deal with your dad?”

Darcie sighed as she glanced at him before looking back at the road, “if you don’t mind Bucky, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Buck,” she smiled over at him, he smiled back. He was just full of surprises tonight.

Another ten minutes went by and she pulled up outside some apartments, “this your place?” she simply asked.

At her words Bucky looked at her with a sneer, “well yeah, most people don’t live in fancy, over the top places like you, you know,” she opened her mouth to assure Bucky that she was just asking a question, “I need my bed, I don’t need your help,” he swatted her hand away and he stumbled out of the car, back to being an asshole again.

Darcie was going to drive off as soon as he got out of the car but she decided that it would be better if she waited to see that he got inside okay. It took him a couple of tries to get into his apartment and Darcie tried not to laugh at his fumbling. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as he shot her a look before he closed his apartment door. Darcie couldn’t be falling again. She wouldn’t fall.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

  @void-imaginations ​ @theonelittleone ​ @thesswintersoldier ​ @dreamacoholic ​ @harryngtonewithyourshit ​ @iamariotgrrl ​ @wavyjassy ​

[mythicalcoolkid]

Man. This place is better than i thought it would be

I’ve been looking forward to moving for years now and I’m so glad I did. It’s only been two days and already this place feels like home. My room is small, just the right size for me, with everything I need. There’s enough room for all of my stuff too, which I was worried about since this place is smaller than I’m used to

My roommate is SUPER nice: he keeps offering me random leftovers he brings home (like a gallon bag of mac and cheese, a two-liter bottle of cherry Coke, half a dozen garlic and Parmesan wings, and, as I was writing this post, cupcakes) and says he wants to buy some mint hot chocolate for us to make when the weather turns cold. He’s extremely extroverted and social and keeps introducing me to his friends, who also offer me food and seem to like me - which is good because I’m naturally very introverted and socially awkward - and he largely keeps me updated on his plans and seems very considerate. I took a chance on a roommate-finding site and seems like I got a fantastic match

It feels like my whole life I’ve been waiting to live here. I know it’s only been a few days and things might change, but this place seems like everything I need

[weelittleweasley]

Roommate | Sweet Pea x Reader

Prompt by anon: You’re Toni’s roommate at college, but when her friends from her hometown decide to pay a visit, you meet a handsome stranger who takes a keen interest in you.

Request status: Open!

Warnings: underage drinking, profanity

You walked across the quad of Carnegie Mellon, you take a moment to absorb how truly beautiful the campus is. You worked hard to end up here and all of the hard work was definitely worth it. Now, you attended one of the nation’s most prestigious universities. You had just left your 10 AM lecture, heading back to the dorms before you hear your name being called out.

“Y/N!” You turned around to see your roommate, Toni, running towards you, backpack secured over one shoulder. “Hey,” she breathed out, tucking her faded pink hair behind her ear. “How was your lecture? Mine was god awful. I don’t get why Mellon makes us take a computer science class even though more than fifty percent of the school isn’t a computer science major. I’m criminal justice!”

Smiling, you laugh at Toni. Toni was such an incredible roommate. She had come from a small town called Riverdale while you came from a large city, Philadelphia. Although you came from two different worlds, the two of you couldn’t be anymore alike. Toni was so sweet and considerate, but had an attitude and a fiery nature when she needed to. Not to mention, she cooked you both dinner when you didn’t feel like eating crappy cafeteria food. “Better than last weeks. I feel like some professors could make their lectures thirty minutes shorter if they just took out half the adjective they use,” you sigh, turning right to enter your dorm building.

In your dorm room, Toni heats up some leftover boxed mac and cheese from last night’s dinner as you pontificate about how your dating life is. It seemed that you were perpetually single. Every party you went with, you flirted with a guy who flirted back, but after you guys made out or hooked up, that was it. It was like he fell off the face of the Earth. You were becoming a little hopeless at this point. “Am I just that revolting that no guy wants to talk to me?” you ask before shoveling a spoonful of Kraft into your mouth.

Toni rolls her eyes, “Oh shut up. Any guy would be lucky to have you on their arm. And I told you that the frat guys are all assholes. They don’t look for girlfriends. They look for a hook up and someone who can give them test answers.” You laugh at her comment, knowing that she is probably right. “Also, remember that my two guy friends from home are coming over next weekend.”

Sitting up, you say, “Right, I almost forgot. What were their names again?”

“Sweet Pea and Fangs,” she replies as you lift an eyebrow. “That’s what they like to be called. They’re Serpents. They don’t want anyone to know their real identity except for the ones who they are the closest to.”

You smile, teasing her. “Do you know their real names?”

Toni knows what you’re doing. “Nice try and it’s not gonna happen. When they get here, just be yourself. Don’t try to impress them. The two of them are complete dorks despite their looks.”

Soon enough, the next week rolled around after a few tests and multiple lectures later. You sat in your dorm room, folding fresh laundry, waiting for Toni to arrive back with her two friends from home. You had to admit, you were a little nervous to meet her friends. You wanted them to like you, of course, since you and Toni had grown so close as not only roommates, but friends. Them not liking you was like a family not approving a boyfriend or girlfriend.

As you tucked sweatpants away into their respective drawers, the door swung open and laughter filled the dorm room. “There she is,” Toni smiles. “Y/N, these are my friends, Sweet Pea and Fangs. Guys, this is my roommate and my saving grace, Y/N.”

She gives you a side hug as you shake hands with Fangs. His hair is jet black, neatly gelled and combed. He wore a neat flannel and jeans cuffed with motorcycle boots. He sent you a smile, “Nice to finally put the name to a face. Toni never shuts up about you.”

It was sweet to hear that Toni talked so highly of you. You were sure she had revealed some embarrassing things about nights out, but you didn’t mind. You weren’t gonna see Sweet Pea or Fangs all the time. “All good things I hope.” You turn to Sweet Pea. He is about a solid foot taller than you, but his presence in the room makes him appear taller. His hair is greasily gelled compared to Fangs, but carries the same raven hair. He wore a plain navy t-shirt and jeans, but the thing that stuck out the most to you was the double headed serpent tattoo on his neck. He was compelling to look at. The way his lips turned into a small smirk made your heart rate skyrocket. “Hi,” you finally manage to speak. 

“Hi,” he replies. “Let’s be honest. How much is Topaz paying you to be her friend.”

Toni punches him in the arm as you tease back, “Not enough.” This causes Sweet Pea to laugh, taking the moment to check you out in your yoga pants and your college sweatshirt that was far too big on your small body.

The four of you created small talk before you excused yourself to grab more laundry that was drying downstairs. Almost immediately after you exit, Toni says, “Pea, I swear to God, if you try to fuck my roommate tonight...”

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes, “She’s hot! And who says I was tryna get ass tonight? Maybe I just wanted to talk.”

Toni gives him a look. “Since when have you ever just ‘wanted to talk.’ I’ve known you for almost fifteen years, Pea. I’m not an idiot.”

Fangs nods. “It’s not that hard to tell when you think a girl is hot. You get that weird look in your eye and you start to smirk. It’s really creepy, to be honest.” Pea slaps his arm for that comment. “I’m being honest!”

“That’s besides that point,” Toni interjects. “Just don’t try to screw her and then leave her. She’s not into that and she’s had it happen to her multiple times before.”

Pea shakes his head and he gets a little disappointed that someone who looked like you would be treated that way. But hopefully, Pea could do some convincing tonight to show you that not all guys are like that.

Later in the night, you sat at you desk and make shift vanity, applying a few coats of mascara to your lashes as Toni brushed her hair. “Are you sure that we don’t have to bring any drinks? You sure that the guys have a stash there?” Toni asks you again, wondering if she should bring the bottle of Malibu she has had hidden in her sock drawer.

Looking at her, you simply state, “We are girls, Toni. Ladies drink free at frat parties. Sweet Pea and Fangs on the other hand should bring something if they plan on drinking tonight.”

Toni laughs, “Oh, don’t worry. They brought a whole stash from Riverdale.” You chuckle at her comment before there is a few knocks on the door from outside, most likely the guys. “Y/N, you ready?” Toni asks as you grab your phone off its charger and scurry outside along with Toni and her friends.

As you walk off campus to the frat house, you can feel Sweet Pea’s eyes on you as you chat with Fangs. His eyes darted to your bare legs as you wore a black leather mini skirt and off the shoulder top, mentally cursing why you had to look so damn good. It was just gonna make resisting the urge to want you even harder to fight. He knew that solely by the way you looked, you would have guys swarming you tonight and Pea didn’t like that. He had only known you for five hours and he didn’t even entertain the thought of another guy having his hands on you.

When you arrived to the frat party, you and Toni got in for free, no hassle. But Fangs and Pea had to cough up ten dollars each. The frat house wreaked of beer and weed, the two scents not mixing well along with the smell of sweaty, dancing bodies. You waste no time in heading straight to the bar and mixing up vodka sodas for you and Toni. “What are we drinking to?” Toni asks you.

You thought for a second. You usually toasted to good grades, a hot date, or money for food. But tonight was different. “To having a good night with good friends,” you smile at her and then to Fangs and Sweet Pea who have managed to snag beers. The four of you clink your red solo cups together before sipping from them. The ratio of vodka to club soda was way off, causing the vodka to slightly burn your lips as you sipped from the cup, but you shook the feeling away.

The party is like any other party you have been to. People drink way to much and dance poorly to Kanye West songs that blare out of the sound system. You have already lost Toni and you pray to God that she isn’t hooking up with someone without telling you. Fangs has joined a beer pong game which leaves you and Pea to your own devices.

The two of you stand away from the crowd, but it’s hard to hear each other over the music, so you go outside. “I feel like my ear drums are blown out,” Sweet Pea rubs his ear as you laugh. “How loud does music have to be for it to qualify as a frat party, my God.”

It was a little awkward silence between the two of you before Sweets says, “Alright, I wanna know a little bit more about my best friend’s roommate besides the fact that she’s cute.” You lightly blush at his comment. “What are you majoring in?”

“Forensics,” you tell him as he widen his eyes. He wasn’t expecting that. “I know a little odd, but I wanna go into crime studies. Any type of law enforcement at state or national levels.” Sweets is clearly impressed by you. “There’s just so many crimes that are pushed on the innocent and I wanna help end that.”

“That’s cool. Toni is really passionate about that stuff, too,” he says.

You nod your head. “That’s how we met at accepted students day. Man, she would not shut up about it.” Pea laughs. “I love her though. She’s a great friend.” 

He shakes his head. “You’re definitely right about that.” You take another sip of your vodka soda. The more you drink, the more attractive Sweet Pea seems to get if that was even possible. His dark even glimmer faintly under the porch lights of the frat house. They carry this eerie seduction that makes every hair on your body stick up. “Not to sound invasive, but uh, Toni has told me you don’t have the best history with guys.” You physically cringe at his words. “Why, if you don’t mind me asking,” he says more as a statement than a question.

Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know. I just can’t seem to do anything right. I mean every time I’m looking for something more than just a hook up, guys run away. But when I’m looking for a hook up, every guy is taken. It may be because I have awful timing or I’m just that revolting.”

Sweet Pea gives you a look, knowingly. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” You don’t say anything and finish your drink in your hand. Why you were having this conversation was beyond question. “Look at you. You’re a smoke show,” he compliment as a rosy hue rises to your cheeks. “The guys are stupid as shit if they think twice about talking to you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him. “But I’m just saying that this is the shit that happens. It’s the way it is. No guy will ever find me hot enough to ask me out, nevertheless kiss me. I mean, Jesus Christ, is it that hard to just walk up to someone and-”

You’re cut off when Sweet Pea’s lips are on yours. His lips are hot on top of yours as you slowly kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls you closer as you press your lips against his harder. You open your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth, his mouth tasting of a cool mint. You tangle your fingers in his hair, getting lost in the sensation about how good his mouth feels as he presses hot, open mouth kisses down your neck. “Shit,” you breathe out as Pea cuts you off again, kissing your mouth harshly, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. You lightly smile before connecting your lips again.

But before you can continue, a voice speaks, “Are you guys done yet? Fangs and I have been waiting to challenge you two to a game of pong.” Looking up, you see Toni in the doorway, brows raising, telling you that she will definitely be asking you questions about this later tonight.

“We’ll be right in,” Pea speaks for the both of you, dismissing Toni. He reverts his attention back to you. “And you were saying before?” his words tease you as he squeezes your hips.

Smiling softly, you reply, “I stand corrected.” 

[starlightafterastorm]

My Lonely World Over Here

“Spring will be a little late this year A little late arriving, in my lonely world over here For you have left me and where is our April love old Yes you have left me and winter continues cold” 

- sung by Deanna Durbin, written by Frank Loesser

Jughead leans his whole weight against the elevator wall and sighs deeply. A small crisis with the pets had turned into a rushed morning had turned into being late to meet his publisher had turned into a meeting that lasted hours longer than necessary. Jughead closes his eyes and presses his forehead into the cool metal of the elevator. At the very least, the day was almost over. Two more floors and down a hallway and he could relax in the comfort of his own home with his dumb dog and his dumb cat and… no Betty.

Jughead groans and thumps his head once at the reminder that Betty’s job had taken her away for over a week now. The ache of missing her is compounded by all of the festive holiday cheer being forced down his throat at every angle. Twinkling lights everywhere, gently falling snow, cheery music being played from every speaker. Everything Betty loves best about the holiday. She was expected back long before Christmas Eve but this week away from her had been particularly painful.

Because of her job, Betty had had to leave as soon as Thanksgiving had finished. Years spent loving Betty meant that Jughead had gotten used to the domestic trappings of Christmas starting as soon as that last Thanksgiving leftover was wrapped. Betty’s absence brings back stark memories of when he thought a future with her was an unattainable dream. Sometimes, on days like this, he’s not sure that he’s not still dreaming.

The memory of curling up with Betty, Caramel, and Porkchop with mugs of hot cocoa, watching cheesy Christmas movies in the glow of their fully decorated tree causes Jughead to clench his jaw in longing. He has almost enough to relive that memory. Tonight, he has the dog, the cat, a movie, some take out menus and, maybe if he’s lucky, a Facetime call with his wife later on that night.

It’ll have to do for now.

The elevator doors open to his floor and Jughead lets out another deep sigh before trudging down the hallway. He allows himself to brood as he makes his way to his own door. Every door is strung up with tinsel and garlands and the smell of something amazing wafts through the hallway. Something cheesy and garlicky and it makes his mouth water. His neighbors must be getting ready for dinner. Jughead’s stomach grumbles and as he reaches his door he wearily searches through his bag for his keys while lamenting his own dinner choices and trying to decide what movie to watch. Something cynical and dark to match his mood. A noir film with an unhappy ending.

Jughead is fully aware he’s being a bit of a grinch, but he feels he’s entitled to it. He’s saving all his positivity for when (if) he gets to talk to Betty later.

Swinging the door open, Jughead’s senses are bombarded with different stimuli. The wonderful cheesy, garlicky, smell is coming from his kitchen. There are boxes of decorations open and strewn about the couch. Betty is sitting with Porkchop on her lap and teasing Caramel with a ribbon. She’s wearing a red flannel she steals more often than he wears over a pair of leggings decorated with reindeer and Christmas cookies. Small little yips and mews mix with the lilting laughter of the woman he loves.

“Juggie! You’re finally home!”

Betty springs up from her place on the floor and all but leaps into his arms. Jughead has just enough presence of mind to close the door behind him and holds his arms open so that he’s ready to catch her. Jughead is effectively pinned to the door with by Betty’s warm weight and all of his grouchiness fades away. He squeezes her tighter against him and leans down just at the moment she tilts her head up for a kiss.

The heat of her mouth chases away the last of his chill and her hands send little shivers down his spine when she runs them through his hair. Betty deepens the kiss, pressing herself ever closer and Jughead is comforted by the fact she missed him just as much as he missed her. Jughead slides his hands underneath the worn flannel she’s wearing, gliding it over her head completely without undoing any buttons. Jughead takes a moment to admire her warm skin and her soft eyes glowing up at him before she reaches up to kiss him again. He turns them so that Betty’s back is to the door and picks her up by the tuck of her waist. Well familiar with this by now, Betty wraps her legs around him and they spend a ridiculous amount of time making out against the door before Betty pushes him back to the only space free on the couch and straddles him.

Later, Jughead pulls a nearby blanket around them as they watch Porkchop and Caramel drowsily paw at various ribbons and little Santa hats. He’s mildly surprised they only knocked over one box in their reunion and thankfully it’s only more garlands and tinsel rather than the glass ornaments. Betty giggles into his chest and presses one last, lingering kiss to the edge of his jaw.

“Welcome home, Juggie.”

Jughead raises an eyebrow at that.

“Isn’t that my line? You’re the one who’s been away for a while. I thought you weren’t going to be back for a few more days?”

Betty shrugs delicately, the blanket slipping off of her shoulder and Jughead can’t resist the temptation of kissing the bare skin.

“We wrapped up early and I wanted to surprise you. Besides. It doesn’t matter if we both say it. We’re both home.”

The smile comes easily to his face when she says that. Home. He’s just about to pull her back in for another kiss when his stomach grumbles. Betty laughs again and moves away to grab her discarded clothes.

“I was wondering when your stomach was going to chime in. Go grab some food. Mac and cheese on the stove. Garlic bread in the oven.”

Betty shimmies the flannel back over her head but doesn’t bother with the leggings as Jughead pulls his boxers back on.

“We should clean up that tinsel first. Knowing our pets, they’ll end up trying to eat it and we’ll be spending another night at the vets’ office.”

Betty waves Jughead over to the kitchen as she leans down to gently move Porkchop away from the garlands. He yawns widely before going to sit underneath the tree next to a dozing Caramel. Jughead scoops mac and cheese into a bowl as he watches Betty place the little Santa hats on their heads before shoving the fallen decorations back into the box. Jughead can hear her shuffling some more of the boxes around as he roots in the fridge for their water filter and fills the largest glass they have.

“I would hope our pets have better sense than that, Jug.” she calls out to him.

“Porkchop eats your socks and the rubber ducky in the bathtub Betts. I don’t think he has that discerning of a palate.” Jughead stuffs a piece of garlic bread into his mouth before walking back over to the couch. He hands the glass of water to a grateful Betty who drinks deeply.

“He thinks the ducky is a toy! Which it is.”

“And he might also think the tinsel is a toy. He does get distracted by shiny things. Like when he tried to eat your earrings.”

Betty scrunches her nose at him and he laughs through a spoonful of cheesy pasta.

“Ok fine. You’ve made your point. Porkchop will eat literally anything and we should keep him away from tinsel. Oh.” Betty bounces a little on the cushion. “Speaking of. We should start decorating tonight, yeah? That’s why I got all the boxes out in the first place but someone distracted me.”

“I’m sorry. Who was it that tackled me down and had her wicked way with me half an hour ago? Not gonna lie, not how I was expecting tonight to go.”

Betty raises a brow at him.

“And how were you expecting tonight to go?”

“I had a hot date planned.” Betty’s brow raises even higher and Jughead has to hide a smile. “A date with Deanna Durbin at a little bar in New Orleans.”

That prompts a startled laugh from Betty even as she rolls her eyes. She tips her head forward to place a smacking kiss on his shoulder.

“Jughead.” The exasperation is nearly buried underneath the laughter. “That is not a proper holiday movie.”

“Betty.” he says, nearly matching her tone. “The title is literally ‘Christmas Holiday’. How is it not a proper holiday movie?”

“It’s a noir film, Jug. Noirs are based on darkness and cynicism.”

“But that’s what makes it so fascinating as a holiday movie.”

Betty elbows him a little and he elbows back, jostling his bowl. He sets it down on the coffee table and winds an arm around her waist, yanking her bodily back into his lap where they maneuver themselves back into optimum cuddling positions. Betty sighs contentedly, resting against him.

“Proposal–” Betty gets out before Jughead interrupts her.

“I thought I already did that years ago.”

Betty nearly starts a tickle fight when she elbows him again and has to take a moment to catch her breath. 

“Ok. Proposal: We watch ‘Christmas Holiday’. You get your date with Deanna Durbin and I get to enjoy Gene Kelly’s and Dean Haren’s handsome faces. But. Then we watch ‘Holiday Inn’ and you don’t make snarky comments when I sing along.”

He always teases her gently, but one of Jughead’s favorite things about Betty is her singing. She’s not like Josie or Veronica, always ready and willing to jump on stage. Betty sings softly, often under her breath, sometimes only humming out melodies in her head. But she can’t help herself when a movie plays a song she’s familiar with.

Jughead agrees easily to her terms and the opening credits soon roll. Betty tugs over the forgotten blanket and steals a bite of his mac and cheese. Jughead watches as Charlie Mason sits down at the bar to hear Abigail Manette sing for the very first time. True to form, when Abigail Manette steps onto the stage Betty’s voice weaves in with hers.

“Spring will be, a little late this year…”

Underneath the tree, Porkchop snuffles slightly in his sleep and Caramel’s purr rumbles underneath the music. Jughead presses a kiss to the Betty’s temple and is rewarded with a blinding smile as she continues to follow the melody.

“Yes time heals all things, so I needn’t cling to this fear.”

Visit here on Ao3 to read the rest of The Adventures of Porkchop and Caramel

[stayextrafrosty]

Friends with the Monster: Part 1

Summary: Demon Patrick AU. New neighbor moves in and even though he’s a bit strange, he’s friendly. One day when dropping off some mail that was given to you by accident, you encounter a side of him that he can’t control.

Patrick x Reader

Words: 5172

“Three bodies have been found at the abandoned hospital. They all appear to have been strangled with their necks broken. No prints were found on the bodies and no one is in custody. All of them were convicted felons. The police are working around the clock to-“ I shut off the tv. This is the second time in three weeks that there have been bodies found in some abandoned building. They were always criminals but did that really make it ok to kill them?

I walked over to the oven to check on the cookies. Snickerdoodles made from my grandmother’s cookbook. I missed her every day but she left us some awesome cookies at least. I don’t usually bake but there was someone moving into the apartment across from me. Our building was only two floors so everyone was pretty close. I know Kayla and Don, who were in the room next to me, were making some wall hangings. Marie, the old lady living next to the vacant apartment, was probably going to make a flower arrangement.

I opened the oven to pull out the cookies. The aroma filled the apartment. I had to restrain myself from eating one too soon. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to see Kayla freaking out

Ok, I know I’m married but holy fuck. New guy is H O T.

I laughed at her excitement. She said that about almost every mildly attractive guy she wanted me to get with. More matchmaking attempts. She was 27 and thought that it was weird that I wasn’t married at 24. It’s not like she forced stereotypes on me but that’s just who she is. I grabbed the decorative plate I bought at the dollar store and arranged some of the cookies on it. After wrapping it in plastic, I went and knocked on his door.

I waited a few moments before the door swung open. He wore a plain red t-shirt with some black jeans. Dirty blonde hair swept to the side. Ok, Kayla was right this time. He was hot. His smile was beautiful and kind. I almost forgot to speak.

“Hi! I live across the hall and just wanted to welcome you to the building,” I said, handing him the cookies. He seemed to get a bit flushed and let out what sounded like a giggle. It was cute.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. You’re like the third person who’s stopped by. I’m Patrick. You’re all so nice, it’ll suck to have to leave.” Leave? I guess he’s one of those people who have to move a lot.

“I’m (Y/N). Do you move around a lot for work?” His face dropped for a second but then he was back to smiling, though it seemed sad.

“Not work. It just always seems I can’t stay in one place for too long. Sucks but at least I get to meet a lot of people.” I nodded. Maybe he just had a bad case of wanderlust.

“I’d invite you in but it’s a mess right now. Thanks for the cookies. Snickerdoodles are always good,” he said. I smiled at him.

“Yea, no problem. I could help you unpack if you’d like. I know moving is a hassle.”

“Oh, no that’s ok. I can handle it. My friend is coming by later to help. Thanks for the offer.” He seemed to shrink back into the door. Maybe I overstepped the boundaries a bit.

“Alright, well I hope to see you at the barbeque this Saturday. It was great to meet you Patrick.”

“I’ll be there. Nice to meet you, too.” I turned and heard the door click shut. He seemed nice. I hope he stuck around.

-

I killed some time by working on my novel. I was an editor for an online editing service. I worked on all types of things from school papers to business letters to creative stories. But my ultimate goal was to get something of my own published.

I glance at the clock on my laptop and it was close to six. I pulled myself off my couch and rummaged through the kitchen. Looks like it was leftover pasta tonight. I heated up a plate of spaghetti and flopped back down on the couch. This will forever be the best part about living alone. I turned the news back on and there was more coverage of the hospital murders. They now believed the two incidents were connected. I watched for a bit and then remembered I needed to get the mail.

I stepped out my door and noticed a Patrick and another guy talking at Patrick’s door. I couldn’t see the guys face but I bet that was the friend Patrick was talking about earlier. It seems I caught the tail end of their conversation.

“You gotta watch yourself, Patrick. The people around here are good. Try to not drag them into this.” Patrick had a serious look on his face. Much more closed off then earlier. He noticed me over his friend’s shoulder. I quickly averted my eyes and hurried to the stairs.

Way to make an impression…

I hurried over to my mail box in the entryway. I glanced through it briefly, noting the cell phone bill. The rest of it was adds and junk. I turned and ran into someone. It was a guy I hadn’t seen before. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and gelled up, olive skin and tattoos covering his arms. He was hot. This must be Patrick’s friend that I saw.

“I’m sorry. You startled me. I’ll just be going.” I tried to push past him but he wouldn’t budge.

“I’m Pete, Patrick’s friend. (Y/N), right? Patrick seems to like it here so far. He’s a good guy, too,” he said. This was a bit weird.

“Well he seemed like a good guy. I didn’t need you to tell me that. In fact, that just makes me question my judgement. Excuse me.” I pushed past him and he let me. He called to me as I started up the stairs.

“Be careful with him. He’s a bit troubled. Past relationships not ending well and all.” I blushed and hurried up the rest of the way. I hardly knew the guy. Why would his friend bring up relationships? Weird.

-

Saturday came quickly. I only saw Patrick a couple times since he caught me eavesdropping. Not that I looked forward to seeing him or anything. I had knocked on his door to apologize and let him know it wasn’t my intention to be nosy but he never answered.        

I pulled the baked mac n’ cheese out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool a bit before I brought it downstairs. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror for a bit, trying to decide if I should wear makeup or not. Patrick said he was coming but who knows. Maybe I scared him off. I shook my head and settled for plain eyeliner. Why did I care what he thought anyway? I threw on my black tank top with dark blue shorts and black converse.

I rushed back to the kitchen and grabbed the still warm pan. I held the placemats under my arms and used my foot to open the door. Patrick stood there, looking like he was about to knock. He looked at me and chuckled a bit.

“Hey, Patrick. What’s up? Would you mind getting the door for me?” He nodded and closed my door.

“Here let me carry that for you. Sorry for laughing when I should have helped right away,” he said sheepishly. I let him take the pan from me and I shrugged my shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it looked pretty funny,” I said, laughing. We headed down the stairs together and into the front lawn area. Everyone was there already and food was being set up. I signaled for Patrick to follow me and where to put the pan. I clapped my hands and took a breath. My part of planning was over.

“Want a beer? Or there’s some harder stuff by the ‘bar’ if you’re feeling adventurous,” I said. Patrick laughed a bit.

“Um, depends what kind of beer. If it’s shit then I’ll go straight to the whiskey,” he said. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Well then I guess you better get to the bar because Jack is in charge of beer and it’s usually the cheap stuff.” I never drank it myself because of that reason. Patrick and I headed over to the makeshift bar. I made myself a margarita and poured Patrick a glass of whiskey. He seemed to stick around me as we socialized. Girls would flirt with him and he would be as polite as he could. Kayla came up to me while a redhead had his attention.

“Soooo? You kissed him yet,” she whispered to me. I almost spit out my drink. Is she crazy?

“Of course not! I hardly know him. All I know is that past relationships haven’t ended well for him. He’s probably not even looking right now.” I glanced over at him. The redhead was really trying. It was sweet but it was easy to see Patrick wasn’t interested.

“Well he’s totally looking at you. He’s been hanging around you for the whole party. I could drop some hints to let him know to ask you out.” I shook my head at her. Patrick freed himself from the girl and hurried over to me.

“I may go hide out inside. I feel bad turning these girls down.” He laughed at himself a bit. Kayla threw an arm around me.

“You wouldn’t turn her down, would you? I mean, she’s beautiful and smart and-“ I pushed her off, laughing nervously. I can’t believe she actually did that.

“That would depend on (Y/N). I’d be more than happy to take you out sometime. As friends, of course.” I glared at Kayla and she skipped away. I turned back to Patrick.

“I’m sorry about that. She thinks that I need to go out more. I wouldn’t force you to take me out.” I chuckled but Patrick looked completely serious.

“You wouldn’t have to force me. Any guy would be lucky to have you in their company for a night.” He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I couldn’t help but blush and turn my head away.

“How’s Tuesday night sound?” I can’t believe this is actually happening. I smiled at him and nodded.

“I think I would like that a lot. Are we still going with the whole ‘just friends’ thing,” I asked? He chuckled and shook his head.

“I think I’ll let you know on Tuesday,” he said. Then he set his glass down and walked back into the building. I tried to keep the grin off my face but Kayla made sure to tell me that it was noticeable. So, I liked him. That wasn’t a crime. Besides, he was a good guy. Maybe he had a troubled past but that doesn’t make him crazy.

-

Monday afternoon I sat at the local coffee shop, trying to fix a kid’s paper. They claimed it was a high school paper but it sounded like something a sixth grader would write. I was pointing out careless mistakes and even plagiarism. It seemed like the kid just wanted me to write the paper for him. I finished reading it through and emailed it back to him. I shut my laptop and put my head down. They can’t all be easy.

The chair across from me moved and I saw a pair of gym shoes. Lifting my head up, there was a guy. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week and hungover. A day drinker. Great. I tried to be polite.

“Can I help you with something?” I took a sip of my coffee.

“Now that you mention it, I would love to hang out with you somewhere more private. So we can get to know each other,” he said. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. Creep.

“Sorry. Not interested.” I started to pack up my laptop but the creep grabbed my hand.

“But I could make it worth your while. We would get along so well,” he pleaded. I yanked my hand back.

“I said no. Get lost.” I pushed my chair back and stood up to get out of there as fast as possible. I heard his chair move and I glanced back to see him following me. Then I ran into someone.

“Patrick? What are you doing here,” I asked? I noticed Pete was with him and they both looked over my shoulder to the creepy guy following me. Patrick’s face darkened. It was a bit freaky. Like the night I first saw him with Pete. He pushed me behind him and confronted the guy.

“What do you want?” His voice wasn’t normal. It was cold and disconnected. Not the one he used with everyone at the apartments.

“Come on now. Ya can’t keep ‘er all to yourself.” He started slurring his words a bit. Patrick grabbed his shirt and shoved him back. He stumbled and fell. This had gone far enough.

“Get lost. She doesn’t want you,” Patrick said. Only it sounded more like a growl. I hurried over to him and grabbed his arm.

“Patrick, that’s enough. He gets the idea.” I tried to get him to face me but he wouldn’t budge. I walked in front of him. For a split second, I thought I saw yellow in his eyes. Maybe it was just a trick of the light.

The creep had pulled himself up and ran off, looking terrified. Patrick took a deep breath and relaxed. He smiled sadly at me.

“Hey, you ok?” His normal voice was back. Maybe I just imagined it all. I nodded. He looked relieved. Pete came over and slapped him on the back.

“What did I say about saving pretty girls from creeps? You gotta let me be the assistant at least.” Patrick rolled his eyes at him.

“Yea well, you can sometimes be one of the creeps that they need saving from,” he said lightheartedly. I chuckled at their back and forth banter. They were clearly close.

“Thanks for the help guys. But I do need to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Patrick. Pete, pleasure seeing you again.” They both said their goodbyes and I was on my way.

The rest of the night, I couldn’t get the way Patrick looked out of my head. He looked mad but it was more than that. Something not human. I know that it’s impossible. I suppose I could ask him about it tomorrow but that doesn’t seem like good first date talk. I also could come off as sounding crazy.

I let myself fall onto my bed. There was nothing to worry about. Yet there was this nagging feeling that something just wasn’t right. I pulled out my phone to look through social media and to get my mind off this feeling.

Within the first few posts, I learn that another body has been found. Another former criminal dead. Strangled and their neck broken. I tossed my phone down. Why couldn’t there be something good happening in the world? I crawled under my covers and let my eyes drift closed. I couldn’t tell exactly what I dreamed about. But it had something to do with the beautiful, sweet, and mysterious new neighbor.

-

The day dragged. Patrick had texted me to wear something nice and that he’d be knocking on my door around five forty-five. I haven’t been on a real date in a while and I had no idea what to wear.  I know he said “something nice” but what kind of nice? The someone died nice or party nice? I guess somewhere in between.

I pulled a crimson dress out of my closet. Kayla made me buy it for a date I was supposed to go on but then I was stood up. I pulled it over my head, pleased that it still fit. It fit me well and flared out at the bottom. It came down just above my knee. Long enough to be presentable, short enough to tease. I pulled on some black heels and threw a leather jacket over it. I let my hair fall naturally, hoping it would behave. There was a knock at the door and I glanced at the clock. If it was Patrick, he was about ten minutes early. I mean, I was ready, but I wouldn’t have time to mentally prepare. I hurried to the door and pulled it open. I saw the flowers first. Then I noticed who was behind them. I tried to shut the door but he stuck his foot in.

“Wait, (Y/N). I know you don’t want to see me but you have to hear me out.” My ex-boyfriend stood at the door. Ben. He dumped me for a rich airhead and when she stopped putting out, he came back to me. He was a dick and I can’t believe I ever loved him.

“No, I don’t. You made it very clear that you didn’t want me if I wouldn’t fuck you. And that hasn’t changed. So, get lost and shove those flowers up your ass.” He went to say something else but I slammed the door. He infuriated me. I considered sleeping with him but I am so happy that I didn’t.

I got some water to cool myself down. I hope he didn’t hang around. But knowing him, he would. He probably noticed that I was dressed nice and wants to pick a fight with whoever comes to the door. Patrick was supposed to be ready to go soon. I would go to him before the douche in the hall started something.

I grabbed my bag and opened the door just as Patrick was opening his. And sure enough, Ben was still here. He tried to talk to me but I pushed past him. Patrick took notice.

“Hey Patrick. You ready to go? I hope this is nice enough.” He looked at my outfit and smiled.

“You look beautiful. Breathtaking even.” He let his hand rest on my back to guide me. He wore dress pants with a grey button down. We didn’t get two steps before Ben stood in front of us.

“That’s my girl you’re touching. I suggest you go back inside before things get ugly.” He got right in Patrick’s face. Ben was a bit taller but Patrick didn’t look worried in the slightest. In fact, he smiled. I would not want to be on the receiving end of that one.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He turned to me. “We should just stay in tonight. I’ll cook. He turned and unlocked his door again, he pulled me inside and shut the door in Bens face. My mouth hung open for a moment before a smile broke out on my face.

“Holy hell. I can’t believe you just did that. That was amazing! Thank you, again.” I turned to him, laughing. But he had his head resting against the wall. Confused, I rested a hand on his shoulder. “Patrick? Are you ok?” He seemed to be breathing deeply. Then he straightened again and smiled at me.

“Yea, I’m alright. Just a bit of a head rush. Did the dick leave?” He looked out the peephole then opened the door. Ben was nowhere to be seen. “All clear if you still want to head out.” He scratched his head nervously. I rolled my eyes and stepped into the hallway with him. Before I could rethink, I kissed his cheek.

“Well you saved me from creepy guys twice now so I think it’s the least I can do,” I said. I thought I saw him blush but it was gone quickly. He offered me his arm and we were off.

He took us to this nice Cajun place. We had a corner booth to ourselves and everything was closed off. It was personal and I didn’t know how to act. Patrick ordered us wine. We talked about everything. From work to friends to family. We shared some tastes in music and clearly food. Of course, at the end of the night he wouldn’t let me see the bill.

“Patrick, this place is so nice. I couldn’t make you pay for the whole thing. Please just let me split the bill,” I begged. He just shook his head and handed the check back to the waiter with a credit card.

“I wanted to take you out.  I wouldn’t have brought you here if I couldn’t afford to cover it.” I sighed and slumped down in defeat.

“Fine, but I will find a way to pay you back.” He grinned. And signed off on the check. We stood and as I was pulling my jacket on, I saw him throw a couple twenties on the table. I told myself to not think about it.

As he drove us back to the apartment, he asked about Ben. I ran a hand through my hair. I suppose it was a reasonable question. Considering Ben threatened him.

“He’s my ex. He broke up with me basically because I wouldn’t have sex with him. He was a jerk and I want nothing to do with him. But he’s always been possessive. I’m sorry he threatened you.” Patrick was silent for a moment.

“Well it doesn’t excuse his behavior but I can see why he’d be possessive. You’re a catch. Beautiful and smart and fearless.” He looked over at me and smiled. The sweeter stuff he said, the more this felt like a date. And definitely not as friends.

I grabbed my mail as we passed through the entryway. Patrick was the perfect gentleman and walked me all the way to my door.

“I had a really nice time tonight. I hope we can go out again,” he said as I unlocked my door, tossing the mail on the table just inside.

“I would love to go out again. Oh, and did you ever decide if this was just as friends or no?” I teased him and he just loosened his tie a bit. The act was innocent but it looked hot as hell.

“Honestly, I really hope we can be more than friends.” He took my hand and kissed it gently. How could a man be so perfect? He began to turn away and I rushed to say something.

“Do you want to come in? I have ice cream,” I said. I tried to keep my voice neutral but I’m sure the hopefulness came through. Patrick face me again.

“Why not? I’ve got time.” I stepped to the side so he could pass. I shut the door behind me and shrugged off my jacket. Patrick wandered around my living room, looking at pictures. I made my way over to the freezer and pulled out some vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup. I set them down on the table and went for the bowls. I turned and saw Patrick examining the ice cream.

“Not good enough for you? I have sprinkles if you need them,” I said as I set the bowls down. He laughed and set it down.

“No, this is fine. Was just checking how bad Andy was going to yell at me for cheating on a diet. He’s a good friend of mine. Loves working out and being healthy.” I nodded. I knew people like that. I dropped a couple scoops in and we made some light conversation.

“Hey, you got some chocolate on your face. Let me get it.” I almost jumped when his thumb ran over my bottom lip. I felt my face heat up but his hand was gone before I had time to enjoy it. He licked the chocolate off his own finger, never breaking eye contact with me. I thanked him and stood to put my dishes in the sink.

He came up behind me, placing a light hand on my waist. “Need help with anything,” he asked? I turned to him, his face inches from mine. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do.

“No. Thanks though. But you do have some chocolate on your face. I’ll get it for you.” He looked confused for a moment. Then I kissed him. I had surprised him and he didn’t respond at first. I pulled away after a few seconds. I blushed and turned away from his now hooded eyes.

I continued washing the dishes but when I went to put them away, he took them from me and trapped me against the counter. Then his mouth was on mine. It was soft but urgent. I wrapped my arms around him and his hands gripped my waist. I nibbled on his lip gently. He lifted me up onto the counter without me realizing at first. I pulled back from him for a moment.

“So, you’ve been hiding how strong you are, huh,” I joked. Then I took note of his eyes. They weren’t the normal bluish green but starting to shift into a deep yellow. “Patrick? What wrong with your eyes?” His face changed immediately. He turned his head away and was blinking rapidly. He stepped away from me and headed toward the door.

“I’m so sorry. I have to go. See you soon,” he rushed out. His voice had changed too. It was deeper. It was more like growling than talking, just like yesterday. I tried to stop him.

“Patrick, wait. Talk to me.” He shook his head and hurried out the door, slamming it behind him. Something was clearly wrong. Maybe I should just let him call me when he’s ready. I ran a hand through my hair and grabbed the mail off the end table. I sifted through it. Mostly junk. One thing did catch my eye though. It was Patrick’s name. I should bring this to him.

Maybe I was just looking for a reason to go over there and check on him, but I didn’t care. I changed into jeans and a black tank top and went to knock on his door. I could have slid it under but I needed to know he was ok.

“Patrick, it’s me. I have some of your mail. Please open the door.” There was no reply. I knocked again, more urgently this time. “Patrick. Please don’t hide from me.” There was a thud on the other side of the door. Now I was really worried. Then there was a voice.

“Please just go away. I don’t want to see you. It’s for your own good.” It sounded like Patrick but it wasn’t right. But one thing was certain, no one told me what was right for me. I was the only one that decided that. I pushed the door handle and was amazed that it opened. I shut the door behind me.

The apartment was dark. I walked a few feet in and saw a figure standing in front of the window, their back towards me. I took a couple cautious steps forward.

“Patrick?” My voice was almost too loud. A laugh rumbled out of his chest. It sounded almost crazy. Then he turned toward me. The only thing I saw, were his eyes. Bright yellow and staring right at me. Fear rose inside me but if this was Patrick, I had to help him.

“Oh, you should have listened to me. Well, the other me. The one who is so concerned with being nice and making a life.” He was suddenly in front of me. I could see him clearly now. This was Patrick. The only difference was the eyes and personality. He ran a hand down my face and I tried not to flinch.

“You are a glorious kisser by the way. How I wish the other me hadn’t stopped. Of course, I could just finish it now…”  He trailed off and he started kissing my neck. I tried to shove him off but he was much stronger than me.

“Patrick, please… This isn’t you. Stop.” He shoved me against the wall and his fingers dug into my skin. “You’re hurting me, please… Patrick…” Suddenly he shoved himself away from me and held his head in his hands. He groaned in what sounded like pain.

“Damn bastard is actually fighting me. Finally grew some balls, huh? And all it took was a girl. God, he’s pathetic. I’m sure we’ll meet again, darling,” demon Patrick said. He threw a menacing grin at me before he fell to the ground.

I rushed over and kneeled next to him. I lifted his head to my lap and pet his head. He had a pained expression on his face. I sat with him for a couple minutes until he started to shift and groan. I moved the hair out of his face as his eyes fluttered open. They were back to their normal blue.

“Hey there. You ok? Don’t try to move too much,” I said softly. He ignored me and sat up almost instantly. He grabbed my shoulders and looked over me franticly.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? Oh god, why didn’t you listen to me? Are you crazy?” His hands came up to rest on my face. I mimicked him.

“I’m alright. I promise.” He rested his head on mine and let out a sigh of relief.

“I could have really hurt you, (Y/N). And now I’m sure you never want to see me again. Don’t worry. I’ll get out of here as soon as possible.” He sat down and placed his head in his hands. I shook my head.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He looked up at me in shock. “No matter what you might think, I’m not afraid of you. You wouldn’t hurt me.” He shook his head.

“You don’t know that… I don’t have control when I’m… a monster…” he said sadly. “What did I do to you?” There was no point in lying to him. That wouldn’t help the situation.

“You told me that I should have listened. And that you wish you hadn’t stopped earlier. And then you kissed my neck and pushed me against the wall. Then I called out to you. And the real you came back.” He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I heard you call to me. I fought harder than ever to wake up. But there is no guarantee that I’ll be able to do that every time,” he said.

“I trust you. And I want to help. I don’t want you to hide from me.” I thought I saw a tear slip down his face but I’m not sure. He nodded.

“But on that note. What the hell is going on?”

part 2

[junker-town]

A Thanksgiving sides draft, because we are a sports website

Photo by: Anjelika Gretskaia/REDA&CO/Universal Images Group via Getty Images

2 sides, 1 dessert, 1 drink. Whose Thanksgiving reigns supreme?

Thanksgiving dinner has never been about turkey.

The focal point of the biggest meal of the holiday season can be brined, roasted, or fried, but it will never escape its fate as lean, bland bird meat. On its own, it’s more of a lowkey punishment than the centerpiece of a celebration.

That’s why we have side dishes. The heart of Thanksgiving is the supporting cast that soaks across your plate and imparts a little extra flavor to the day’s starring attraction. Good sides are a meal on their own, reduced to complementary status in the name of an hour-long gorging. They even get their own stewards thanks to the presence of desserts and beverages tasked with cleaning the whole mess up.

Put all that together, and you’ve got one hell of a meal. And, for the dads of the nation, a prelude to the greatest recliner nap they’ll take all year.

In the interest of celebrating the one celebration of America that doesn’t involve hot dogs, we turned the perfect Thanksgiving meal into a competition. Five SB Nation writers joined forced to draft their ideal meals. The ground rules:

everyone starts with turkey and gravy

everyone drafts two sides, one dessert, and one beverage (adult or otherwise)

sides must be fundamentally different from one another to be considered a viable alternative to an already-picked food (i.e. sausage and herb stuffing vs. Stove-Top is good to go, but pumpkin pie vs. pumpkin pie with whipped cream is not).

Our four-round draft was a randomly-assigned snake draft, and our managers could pick sides, dessert, or beverage in any round of their choice. These are the results:

1. Stuffing — Louis Bien

Easily the MVP of every Thanksgiving dinner. Stuffing stands up well on its own, but it pairs with everything else beautifully, too. Stuffing complements everything around it, and everything complements stuffing. It just tastes like Thanksgiving. And it saves amazingly well for next-day sandwiches. Some people like to add sausage to their stuffing, but that’s one job too many for what is essentially the do-it-all point guard of any feast. Let stuffing be the giver that it is.

Christian D’Andrea: Cool man. You took breadcrumbs cooked inside a bird anus No. 1 overall.

Alex McDaniel: If Stove Top is No. 1, let’s give up now.

2. Mashed potatoes — Christian D’Andrea

An easy choice. Mashed potatoes are the glue that you dip your turkey in so that other, better foods (stuffing, cranberry sauce, corn, etc) will stick to the bird and thus make it taste like something. It’s also instrumental in the post-meal leftover sandwich, which is easily the best part of Thanksgiving (old man naps while seating completely upright aside).

Fooch: I’d like to continue shit-talking Louis on this one. Forget stuffing — mashed potatoes is the go-to side. Mashed potatoes is the Orlando Pace of this draft. The offensive tackle prospect that you know will turn into a Hall of Famer. It’s not a sexy pick, but like Christian said (when he wasn’t trashing my old man choices), it’s the glue of the Thanksgiving meal.

Louis: Boxed fake mashed potatoes >>>>>>> real mashed potatoes. I will take no more questions at this time.

3. Cranberry sauce (Ocean Spray) — David Fucillo

I’ve learned to enjoy fancy cranberry sauce, but nothing tops the gelatin version! Some will mock me for my distaste of gravy, but this actually serves as my choice of gravy. I combine all my sides together with the turkey, and the cranberry sauce is what keeps it from turning into a lumpy mess.

Louis: This is high for cranberry sauce, but I get that people really love it, and I like the gelatin version over the Real Stuff, too. But I will NOT abide this gravy slander, sir.

4. Cornbread dressing — Alex McDaniel

Aside from being the Thanksgiving dish most likely to start a family fight over the right way to make it, cornbread dressing is the quintessential side-that-could-also-be-a-meal holiday food. (It’s also way better than stuffing in that we don’t shove dressing up a bird’s ass.)

Louis: Y’all know you don’t have to cook stuffing in the turkey’s butt, right?

5. Pumpkin pie — Eric Stephen

In theory I probably should have picked a side dish here, but since I had two picks back-to-back I wanted to give the Thanksgiving dessert its proper due as a first-round pick. Pumpkin pie is not something that should be eaten year round, but it is a Thanksgiving staple. There was no way this was lasting until the end of the third round, so I had to make sure to grab my dessert — the dessert — right away.

Fooch: Every draft requires someone forgetting that a selection already happened. I was psyched to take pumpkin pie in the third round, only to realize I missed Eric taking it with the fifth overall pick. Pumpkin pie with whipped cream is what Thanksgiving is all about. I probably should have taken it over cranberry sauce, but such is life.

6. Green bean casserole — Eric Stephen

I have to be honest here: for the overwhelming bulk of my Thanksgiving dinners, I’ve had fairly standard green beans, maybe spruced up with bacon here and there. But green bean casserole is the ultimate comfort food, and perhaps more importantly it’s one of the easiest sides to make — green beans, cream of mushroom soup, and fried onions — which is important for those of us who aren’t hosting but rather bringing something to the table.

Christian: Easily the worst kind of bean. I appreciate the casserole’s commitment to making a healthy food so capable of bringing on a stroke.

Louis: Is there any part of green bean casserole that actually tastes good other than the French’s fried onions sprinkled on top?

Fooch: The fact that Christian shit-talked my Brussels sprouts the way he did and doesn’t offer nearly enough hate for green bean casserole is just unacceptable.

7. Sweet potato casserole — Alex McDaniel

I’m not sure why I didn’t make this my first pick because it’s undeniably the most on-brand example of Thanksgiving indulgence in existence. How do you make sweet potatoes, a naturally tasty and good-for-you food, more appealing? Mix them with a shitload of butter and brown sugar and eggs and vanilla before topping them off with marshmallows and EVEN MORE butter and brown sugar. Plus, it’s the only dish other than boring-ass cranberry sauce that counts as a side AND a dessert.

Christian: A dessert as a side dish? You really are from the South.

8. Brussels sprouts (with balsamic glaze) — David Fucillo

A vegetable I would never eat as a kid I have grown to love as an adult. I’d be fine with just a basic sprout dish cooked with some salt, pepper and garlic. In reality, a balsamic glaze and potentially some bacon takes this side to a whole other level.

Christian: Of course the guy who picked candy corn and raisins at Halloween wants Brussels sprouts, the villain food from every Nicktoon from 1992-1998. Enjoy your tiny cabbages, old man.

9. Sausage and herb stuffing — Christian D’Andrea

How do you improve on stuffing? Add a bunch of pig fat to it. This is effectively a breakfast sandwich, blended down into spoonable form. I love every word in that sentence, so that’s an easy pick for me.

Louis: Talks shit about stuffing then takes the frozen Jimmy Dean’s version of it eight picks later. OK.

10. Spiced peaches — Louis Bien

It was slim pickings for sides at this point of the draft outside of [Insert vegetable] and [Insert starch]. But spiced peaches are a nice curveball on the plate — sweet and tart and delicious. Who cares that they don’t actually go with anything.

Alex McDaniel: It’s hard for me to talk shit about such a delightfully Southern dish, but I’m guessing spiced peaches in Wisconsin just means throwing some cinnamon on a Del Monte fruit cup and calling it a day.

11. Rye old fashioned — Louis Bien

A simple, noble, delicious cocktail that tastes like the embodiment of crackling fireplaces, cozy sweaters and fucking off from work.

Christian: You went to the University of Wisconsin and chose rye over brandy for your old fashioneds. The city of Madison will judge you for this. Harshly and drunkenly, as is tradition.

Louis: Do I get to rebut in the comment section? Listen, I hear you, but brandy hurts, man.

12. Cheesecake — Christian D’Andrea

A top five dessert after any meal. Can be topped with literally any fruit in order to make it healthy.

“Healthy.”

Louis: Yes, that’s exactly what I want after my 20-pound meal, a sugar bomb with the density of a red dwarf.

13. Roasted potatoes — David Fucillo

Gotta have a starch and I couldn’t justify scalloped potatoes. Mashed potatoes are the easy choice, but a quality toasted potato can bring a little something extra.

Christian: How difficult was it for you to pass up “rolls” or “water” here?

Louis: “Mmm, pass the filler please.”

Eric: This is a great side, but missing only one step: mashing the potatoes.

14. Hot bourbon cider — Alex McDaniel

Adding bourbon to apple cider is a) delicious and b) more socially acceptable than drinking straight whiskey from a Solo cup at the Thanksgiving table. Or so I’ve heard.

Christian: The only thing I don’t like about this pick is your Solo cup bias. Next you’re going to tell me everyone sits on chairs that don’t fold up at your house and the kids’ section isn’t just a three-legged card table.

15. Mac n’ cheese — Eric Stephen

The gamble in picking my dessert first meant that most of the good sides would be snatched up by this time of the draft. But what could be better to add to Thanksgiving than one of the best side dishes for any meal? Mac n’ cheese is delicious whether out of a box or made from scratch, and for an extra touch maybe through some bacon in there since I didn’t get to add them to my green beans above.

Louis: I am probably very, very alone in this, but I love mac n’ cheese in pretty much every context except Thanksgiving. Here’s a sumptuous banquet of Earth’s bounty, and also cheddar noodles.

16. Boring-ass regular cider — Eric Stephen

I suppose I could have just picked a beer, or even tequila here (man, that would hit the spot right now), I picked a beverage I have in my kitchen at this very moment. Yes it’s relatively plain, and non-alcoholic, but the spicy warm beverage is just perfect for the holidays, and hit the spot.

Christian: Warm Dr. Pepper was RIGHT THERE.

17. Salted caramel pie — Alex McDaniel

Listen. If you eat a bunch of rich and/or sweet stuff at dinner, maybe DON’T make this your dessert choice. Eat some Jell-O and go lie down. But if you kept things dry and boring, salted caramel pie is the dessert you DESERVE, not to mention a hell of a lot more creative than standard, boring, embarrassingly un-salted pies.

Christian: Is the recipe for this just “salt, sugar, butter, milk” and then a shrug emoji?

18. Hot buttered rum — David Fucillo

I’m not a big holiday drinker, but this just seems like a quality option during a cold, winter evening. Why get complicated?

Christian: OLD. MAN. PICK. Fooch drafted himself a Thanksgiving meal he read about once in a Dickens novel.

19. Porters/brown ales (like say, Tyranena’s Rocky’s Revenge?) — Christian D’Andrea

A good warming beer to ease in the oncoming winter. Nothing sets up the 4 p.m. hibernation break quite like a couple beers to wash down the week’s worth of carbohydrates you just ate.

(Tyranena, please send me stuff.)

Fooch: I love a good porter or brown ale, but I can’t even begin to imagine trying to drink this during or right after a huge Thanksgiving meal. I’m a glutton when it comes to this meal, but this would knock me on my ass before I even finished eating. I at least like to make it back to the television and pass out while watching football.

20. Ritz cracker pie — Louis Bien

I think this goes by mock apple pie in some circles, but we usually make this with pecans and/or walnuts in the mix, too. Ritz cracker pie is light and fluffy and sweet and perfect after over-gorging on everything else. I almost always end up having some for breakfast the next day.

Christian: I ... have no idea what this is?

(Ritz, please send Louis stuff.)

Our final results:

So who won our inaugural Thanksgiving sides draft? Throw your vote in below. The winner will earn a smidge of pride. The loser will be mocked relentlessly for having terrible taste.

If you can’t see the poll, click here.

[floweringthewords]

Untitled pt. 3 - Daily Grind

Sleep came slowly, like a dizzy haze. First it was nothingness, sweet as any dream. But then the reoccurrence came into focus, fading in from the black to the white of morning light, waking up but still in within a dream. It was just the same as I woke up every morning. The movie began to play out with a faint golden silhouette, gold blonde hair framing her face. Her delicate hands run through them as she stretches. I remember thinking her body had more curves than the Nile river. Every time, I could never believe I got to wake up to that each day. A smile graces her lips, half of her face cloaked by the white light. She leans down and presses her mouth to mine. My arms slip around her like a blanket, except she was the one to give me warmth. I run the back of my hand against her smooth back, her skin smoother than velvet. I was always comforted most when I had her in my embrace. She was my drug and my medicine. She was twice the dosage. “Morning,” she hums, her face in my neck. My mouth opens to respond but no sound comes out as I speak. She frowns. “Everything okay?” I swallow and try again, cupping her cheek. Her eyes glisten softly, grinning at me. She rolls and climbs on top of me. “C’mon, speak up. Life gave you a good mouth for a reason.” She smirks before giggling and climbs off. I reach for my throat, trying to cough. I could feel my voice working, but it was like I was mute. Neither of us could hear me and I could feel my panic rising. Ava stands from the bed, staring out the window. “Alright, you coming with, boss?” I get up and reach for her, but my hand goes through her like fog. My fingers felt frail without being able to feel her, and I grasp harder, my hand closing in a fist in hopes that she would become solid. The light gets brighter, the white too much to face. I squint, holding my arm above my eyes to block it off. I try to look at her, but she only melted into the light, walking further as she waited for me to follow, not even looking behind, confident I was already following. The light starts to scorch my skin, then my eyes, and I attempt a scream, the white turning to fire and pouring itself down my throat until the sound finally rips through, her name bellowing out in a piercing, haunting echo.

[gobigorgohome2016]

Entering Phase 2

As of yesterday, I am 4 months out from my next marathon.  It is time for me to switch gears a little bit and start focusing - especially now that the wedding is over!

Originally, the plan was for Dave and me to get married at a courthouse in June, then have a large party back home after CIM.  Ultimately, as we started to plan we realized it would be a huge hassle to plan two parties (because, of course, we would have had to celebrate somehow after the initial ceremony, and it turns out that we have a lot of friends!).  Also, the thought of planning a party during the peak of marathon training did not sound appealing, so it worked out to have a 60 day engagement and get married before I got into the thick of marathon training.

Yes, my wedding was partially planned around running and I am #notashamed.  

The last 60 days were a little bit more stressful than I imagined.  I grew frustrated with myself when I was especially tired and had to shift around my training, or when - during my wedding week - running took a backseat.  There were definitely a couple times where I thought why am I doing this?  Is this necessary?  I would rather just train.  I had to remind myself frequently that sometimes giving 100% doesn’t look like a nailed workout or a PR.  Sometimes, giving 100% means cutting a run short so that you have time to go to the grocery store and buy real food and fuel, or starting a new, more secure life with someone and getting health insurance.  [I should point out here that I have a dry sense of humor.]

The wedding weekend itself was amazing.  I have always scoffed at people who have said that their wedding day was the happiest day of their life.  I mean, I love Dave and all, but it has always seemed depressing to think that you might peak at the beginning of your marriage and then have to live up to that moment for the next 30 - 60 years.  

I get it, now.

Having all of our favorite people in one of our favorite places was really freaking fun.  The day went by faster than I ever could have imagined.  It turns out all the clichés are true!  

My coach had warned me all along that my training might take a hit because of wedding stress.  I scoffed.  I didn’t believe him.  I’m Anna effing Weber and come hell or high water, I was going to get in my mileage no matter what.  

I almost made it.  Wedding week proved to be my unraveling.  On Friday, Dave and I set out for a 20 mile run in the dunes.  I made it three miles and just couldn’t keep going.  It was one of those runs where you are looking at your watch 20 minutes in and calculating how many more minutes you have left.  So, we stopped and went for a 2.5 hour walk through the dunes instead.  I figured a long run is really just time spent on your feet so if I can’t run, might as well walk!  It was a gorgeous day and it was nice to spend some relaxing time with Dave before things got out of control.  

Friday evening, I got to spend time with four of my 6 bridesmaids.  We went to Chicago and had dinner at The Publican, which was fantastic.  Everything is family style, and everyone sits at a shared table.  The only downside was that it was loud.  Had I known I would be screaming over people the whole night, I probably would not have made reservations there.  However, that would have been a shame because I would have missed out on really good food like snail sausage, squid ink pasta, pork rillette, fried cauliflower, and mussels.  Two of the bridesmaids that were with me were my nieces, and the other two were my college teammates/roommates.  Having 4 of my favorite people together in one place was really, really fun.  

When I got back to the hotel I was TIRED.  I waited for Dave to return from his bachelor party that consisted of eating at the Ritz Klub in Michigan City (best kept secret burger) and then drinking copious amounts of beer.  I gave him one rule:  do not throw up in our hotel room.  He had one job.  I truthfully did not care what he did that night or where he went, I just didn’t want him to puke in our hotel room.  I’m sure you know how this story ends.....

Saturday morning arrived way too quickly.  Everyone told me I wouldn’t sleep the night before my wedding.  Nope, I was definitely out.  

The plan for Saturday morning was to do a “freedom run” first thing.  We started this tradition at Dani’s wedding.  We ran from the hotel, down to the beach.  I jokingly said we should stop by my sister’s house (she flew in from Philly the night before), but we didn’t even have to knock because she and my brother in law were already sitting in the front porch.  We stopped and said hello, then took a selfie:

This is easily the best jumping selfie I have ever taken (sorry Dani!).  Jayne and I wound up getting in 12 miles, which made me feel better about not having gotten my long run in the day before.  

Following my freedom run, I returned to my room to find all the groomsmen and a cooler full of beer.  We chatted and got ready to go to brunch.  Instead of having a rehearsal dinner, Dave and I opted for a rehearsal brunch, which was intended only for our wedding party and officiant.  Really, the whole goal of the weekend was to be as low key as possible.  We had a great lunch at Fiddlehead.  My amazing pre-wedding burger:

My goal in having bridesmaids was to be able to spend extra time with the people who mean the most to me.  I didn’t want them to have any real obligations...no one had to awkwardly walk down an aisle with someone she did not know, hold flowers, or wear an ugly dress.  I asked them to simply wear a dress they already owned that was in a color found in a peacock feather (i.e. blue, purple, green, gold, etc.)

After lunch, we went back to the hotel and spent a couple hours lounging and getting ready.  The biggest stressor of my day:  not being able to get my earrings in.  I rarely wear earrings, so one of the holes was slightly closed and it took me 30 minutes to get it through.  Wouldn’t have been a big deal, but I bought those earrings specially for my wedding day!

Jayne brought a great bottle of champagne that we shared while listening to music and getting pretty.  I opted to do my own hair and makeup.  Besides not really having money in our budget, I just have never been super impressed with anyone else’s version of my style.  I bought a couple items that I wouldn’t normally wear, like primer and setting spray, and felt pretty confident.  Emma brought a bun contraption that gave my hair a perfect bun, and I was happy!

We got to the zoo around 4:30 and I found my dad.  We hung out in the rotary castle for about 30 minutes before the ceremony began.  This was one of my favorite parts of the evening.  My dad has been sick my entire life, and I was never certain he would see me get married.  I wasn’t really emotional about the day until I saw him and it hit me I wouldn’t have to worry about that any more.

We chose a gorgeous overlook at the zoo for the ceremony (which lasted a grand total of 5.5 minute).  Our goal was to eliminate everything from a wedding and reception that we didn’t like.  No long readings or vows. No receiving line.  Nothing superfluous.  We said enough to make it legal and we read some short vows of our own.  

View from our “altar”

after

Following the ceremony, guests were given an opportunity to walk through the zoo or sit and mingle in the picnic area. Our families went above and beyond to make this happen.  

Dinner was true region fare - fried chicken, Italian beef, mac & cheese, and roasted veggies with three types of cheesecake catered by my sister’s cafe, South Bend Chocolate Company, for dessert.  Dave and I had a special dessert:  apple pie made by my mom.

Dave and I were able to sneak away from guests for a few minutes and take a tour of the zoo ourselves.  One of my favorite photos from the evening was a selfie where our ceremony was held.

At 8 PM, we headed over the Guy Foreman Amphitheater for drinks and socializing.  Dave and I both hate loud music at wedding receptions, so we had very light music playing in the background from a carefully curated playlist of songs that have special meaning for us.  We had 3 boxes of wine and 1.5 kegs.

The weather turned out to be perfect.  High of 77, low of 58, no humidity, and no wind.  If you are familiar with northwest Indiana, you know that this type of weather is practically unheard of for late July.  Normally, it is either raining and windy, or hot and miserable.

Following the amphitheater was the final stop in our wedding crawl:  Blue Chip Casino.  This was where we were staying, as well as many of our friends.  The zoo, amphitheater, and casino were all within a half mile of one another, so it was very easy to get between all three places.  These two photos are my absolute favorite from the night:

The following morning was a rough one.  I don’t think I have drank that much in YEARS.  I didn’t wind up running that day like I thought I would, but I did have a fantastic morning at the beach.

The last part of the day was heading over to my sister’s house to eat all of the leftover food from the wedding and drink the rest of the beer before heading to my parents’ house to open gifts.

We were blown away by the thoughtful gifts we received, many of which were handmade.  Perhaps the one that surprised us most was this one from the zoo:

We had an amazing weekend, but I’m happy to get back to a routine and move on to phase 2, of both life and training.  I am racing the USATF IN 5 mile championships tomorrow.  It will either be awesome because wedding stress is gone, or terrible, because wedding stress is catching up with me.  Either way, I’m really happy with where I am right now.

[kyaada]

Max Stuffing

An original weight gain story by kyaada

It had been a couple of months since I’d seen Max in the flesh, and I always looked forward to his visits to town with the neverending hope that I’d see more of him than the time before.  Each time we’d meet, I’d concentrate on bolstering his waning self-confidence attributed to his ongoing weight gain, assuring the 26 year old Swedish meat ball that he still had more than his share of good looks.  Of course, I’d also fill his head with restaurant ideas and tempting recipes, never letting him forget that it was important to keep that belly of his full of many pleasingly delicious things.

It was fairly busy day at the warehouse club with a steady stream of shoppers pushing their as-yet unfilled carts past Max’s roadshow table.  Very few stopped to show interest in the product, making it a perfect time to hang out and chat.

“Yeah, I tried to go on this diet that my father recommended, and I had bought all of this stuff-- $400 worth--” Max said, scratching the top of his belly, “but it lasted two weeks. Then I gorged my way through Thanksgiving, then the whole month of December, well, hell, I’m still eatin’ like a pig.  My pants are so fucking tight, and well, this is my biggest shirt and it’s completely filled.”

“Max-filled, by the looks of it,” I said, reaching over and giving his rounded belly a gentle pat, bringing out a bit of laughter.  “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Max, I mean, come on-- you’re still a really handsome guy.”

“Well yeah, but I was so hot when I was in college.  I need to get back into shape.”  He stood there letting his belly stick out as far as it wanted after his substantial lunch at Applebee’s.  Giving his stomach a friendly massage with one hand, Max worked out a steady stream of mini-belches.  “Fuck, I ate too much for lunch.”

“Aw c’mon, Max.  You enjoyed it, right?”  

“No doubt, man.”  Max put both hands on his midsection, spread his fingers, and gave his food barrel a squeeze.  “I enjoy everything too much-- the main reason why I weigh 240 pounds now.  I’m the biggest I’ve ever been!  My roommate calls me his “big boy” now.  Damn him anyway for being such a good cook.”

“Oh, does he cook for you, Max?”

“Yeah, with me being out of town for a week at a time, it’s hard for me to keep groceries in the house.  He usually just cooks for me when I’m home, and with what he learned in those cooking classes last year, he’s become quite the budding chef.”

“That’s more than handy, huh?” I asked, watching Max reach down and shift some stiffness in his pants zipper region.

“You could say that.  The other week, he made this awesome tender steak with these loaded baked potatoes and this vegetable dish and this amazing garlic parmesan bread and my favorite salad and even some homemade pasta.”  Max kept his hand on top of his belly as he described the lengthy meal, rubbing back and forth as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.  

“What? No dessert? The bastard!”

Max’s belly shook as he laughed.  “It’s all good-- I don’t really care all that much for sweets.  Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been able to fit it in.  As it was, I could barely move.  I just sat there on my fat butt like a big vulnerable pregnant Buddha.”

At the mention of his divine after-dinner state, I found myself getting harder.  “That must have been quite the sight, Max.  Did your roomie rub the Buddha belly for luck?”

“Come to think of it, he did, and he snapped a couple photos with his phone.  He told me that I was too big to get away and that I’d have to eat the rest of the sausage cannelloni because he didn’t want any leftovers.”

“Wow! It sounds like you were definitely vulnerable to a serious overfeeding at that point.”

“I was beyond swollen when I finished that last bite of saucy pasta goodness. Good thing I was close to the couch and he only had to help me waddle a short distance.  The Buddha was ready to burst!”

“You know, you really do need to come to my house on a night when you don’t have any appointments.  I’ll make you some dinner, and you can relax yourself with a good feed.”

5’ 10” Max smiled at me, showing off his irresistible dimples, “that sounds like fun.  We could have drinks and I bet you’re a pretty good cook.”  

“Oh absolutely.  Guys that come to my house for dinner should wear pants with a little give in ‘em and a shirt that will stretch some.  I’ve had a couple complaints where my dinner guests had eaten too much.”

“Are you gonna impregnate the Buddha?”

“Maybe a little bit, Max.  Overstuffing you and putting you into a vulnerable state is pretty appealing to me, I’ll have to admit.  I might even have to you weigh in and out.”  My eyes shifted down to his belly region again after thoroughly inventorying his dimples, much fuller cheeks, and beginning double chin.  “By the way, what time do you go to lunch today?”

“We could go now, actually, it’s not that busy.” Max began gathering his various phones and electronic devices.  “Besides, all this talk about food has made me hungry.” As we walked across the parking lot to his favorite standby Applebee’s, I noticed how much his round belly bounced with each eager step.  

“Where are the good places around here to run?” Max asked me as one of his heavier steps dislodged a small belch.

At first, my mind refused to connect the vision of his perfectly fat bouncing ball of belly and his desire to go through such ridiculously pointless physical effort; nonetheless, the memory of his diet and exercise talk spurred my response.  “Run? That’s too hard on your knees, Max.  You don’t want to be running.”  The short walk across the parking lot was topped by the sight of his wide rear going into the restaurant ahead of me.  He really did have an amazingly shaped bubblebutt and gloriously stacked love handles.

When we got to the booth, I noticed that the table was pushed over to one side, and he automatically chose the widest seating area. Max said that he was going to be good and just have a salad.  I told him that I knew he was trying to stick to his diet and “get back into shape”, so I first interested him in the French Onion soup that he’d never tried before, then ordered the 4-Cheese Mac and Cheese with Honey Pepper Chicken Tenders along with a steak quesadilla appetizer for us to share.  He gave it some thought and added some crispy chicken to top his humble Caesar.  

Max received his soup first, and was completely thrilled with the new flavor and stacks of gooey cheese.  He helped himself to pieces of the steak quesadilla at my urging, and was well through that pile of nibbles by the time our entrees came.  The server flew about like a crazed bee between tables because it was so packed, but she still managed to keep Max up to his nipples in Coke, which he sucked down at a near-panicked rate.  Next, Max conquered his heaped salad easily, and didn’t flinch when I pushed my mac and cheese towards him with a heartfelt request for assistance.  

Max’s belly swelled with obvious confidence.  The gap between his expanding stomach and the table edge narrowed as he widened in front of my eyes.  The fleece pullover, already tight all over, was getting a stretching in the midsection.  Suddenly realizing how full he was getting, Max leaned back momentarily and emitted a stout belch.  The bearchub of a manager chugged his way up to the table and asked how everything was tasting, recognizing Max from his many previous lunch trips.  “How’s my best customer?” the bearchub asked, “from here, it looks like you’ve got a little space left between you and that table, so we should fill it with a nice big dessert. What do you say?”

Powerless to avoid being desserted, Max watched as the bearchub sat an overscooped Blue Ribbon Brownie in front of him with two spoons.  The brownies were stuffed with chunks of dark chocolate and nuts, covered in hot fudge.  Two large scoops of chocolatey decorated vanilla ice cream sat on each side of the brownie pile in a similarly irresistible manner like Max’s fattened pecs adorned the top of his rising belly.  Despite his previously mentioned aversion to sweets, Max gorged himself to capacity on the quickly melting heap of decadence.   “There! That was a great diet lunch, Max.” I complimented the completely rounded stud seated in front of me.  His overfull belly pushed against the table hard enough to cause a mini-roll of fatness just above the table ledge.  If I would have shoved the table over just one inch toward him, it was likely that I’d be wearing his enormous dessert.

Max smiled at me as he rested his head back against the top of the booth, absentmindedly running his hand across the top of his big bloated belly.  “I’m so fucking full that I hurt.”

“Poor guy! Applebee’s apple barrel boy.”

Max looked at his phone.  “Oh shit-- I better get back to work!” His sudden realization spurred him into movement, but his next revelation was that he was a bit too overloaded to move quickly.  “Oh my Goddddd, get the forklift!  You might have to help roll out the barrel boy...”  Belching and grunting his way out of the tight fit of the booth, Max was finally able to stand up and begin his journey to the front door.  Even the most casual of observers in the restaurant could make out Max’s protuberant bulge and how it led the way while he shifted his pasta butt into gear to motor towards the entrance.  

“Take your time, Max, remember, you’re built for comfort, not speed.” I told him, looking ahead to see the bearchub manager waiting patiently at the front with a to-go bag.  

“You got that right-- besides, I don’t think I could move faster than this if I tried.”

Max slowly glided into position by the bearchub manager like a heavy-laden truck pulling into a highway weigh station.  The manager smiled and thanked him profusely for coming in again, handing him the to-go bag.  Addressing Max’s confused look, he offered, “you forgot your leftovers at your table, sir.”

“But I didn’t...” Max sputtered, relaxing his belly for a moment to let it become as round as possible.  The hefty young manager peeled off a “Blue Ribbon” sticker and smoothed it onto Max’s extra-taut fleece right above his left nipple.  Finding the humor in the situation, we all chuckled at how Max really did resemble fattened free range livestock.  The bearchub reached over and patted Max’s very full belly and thanked him for being a valued customer, “I know that you’re pretty stuffed at the moment, but here’s a little snack to tide you over before dinner.”

The walk back to the warehouse was a much lazier affair due to Max’s heavy lunch.  His gut was so packed so tightly that it essentially refused to bounce with each plodding step. 
 “Still thinking about taking up running again there, Max?”

“Smart ass.” Max smirked at me.  “Exercise of any kind is pretty much out in my present condition,” he confirmed as he rubbed his impressive sphere in languid circles.  “Buddha Boy here overdid it again...”

~.~

The next day, Max sent me pics during his visit to Famous Dave’s.  “Diet food” was the title of the first one, showing a mega-pile of food for his “Feast for One”, and this was after he’d guzzled beer at the bar during happy hour.  He’d told me before that he usually avoided drinking beer because it made him bloat so outrageously, but the cute young bartender had convinced him to try a local brew he ended up really enjoying. Max devoured his single feast after tanking up with beer, and sent a photo looking down to show how round he’d become.  His new gal pal behind the bar went on to work out a deal on a giant bowl of bread pudding with sauce and ice cream, enticing Max to stuff it in.  He must have handed her the phone to take the picture, so I received a very revealing shot of his tight shirt and swollen belly accompanied by a text that said he was going to “have to be rolled out.”  I texted back and told him that I loved his new diet plan.   The following night, Max ate Mexican food before going out to two appointments.  Then, he went out for pizza and beer.  Following that, he used the 2-for-1 Whopper meal coupon I’d given him and had to go to his hotel room for a rest.  He sent me several photos of his attempts to get comfortable on the bed, blaming me for his overgorged state because I’d shoved that coupon on him.  After accusing me of being a bad influence, he told me that he had the next evening free, so I jumped on the chance to invite him over for dinner.  Then he called me.

I answered the phone and heard this protracted belch rumble through my earpiece.  

“Wow, Max, you okay?”

“Oh my GOD I’m so full.  Just stick me with a pin and pop me already.”  Max said, breathing loudly enough for me to hear him over the phone.

“Poor guy. At least you’ve had two nights of stretching your stomach before you come to dinner at my house.”

“I’m definitely stretched out. I had to unbutton my pants.” Max belched again.  “I look so fat right now.”

“You looked like a big ol’ sausage in the pics you sent me.  A big, stuffed sausage...”

“Sauté me in beer until I split.” Max quipped.  

“So, are you in the mood for beer tomorrow night, Max?”

“Whatever you got.  I’m just gonna sit there with my mouth open like a little baby bird and let you feed me whatever you want.”

“Okay then.” I felt my face get hot as my blood started to rush around my body.

~.~

I certainly didn’t mind spending hours preparing for Max’s Big Meal the next day.  Cooking and baking non-stop, I gave my collection of cookbooks a thorough workout.  Feeling a touch exhausted, I poured myself a gin and tonic and looked over the assortment with undeniable satisfaction as the doorbell rang.  Time had really gotten away from me during all of that preparation.

I opened the front door and guided Max in.  “Hello there,” I said.  “Hey,” Max replied with a smile.

“You know, I’ve never been invited to a guy’s house for dinner before,” Max said as he shed his coat and showed off his ensemble.  To my amazement, he’d chosen his black knit pullover shirt he’d outgrown several months prior, stretched it over what appeared to be a tank top underneath, and then struggled to button his tan dress pants from work.  The zipper had no hope of traveling up to the top of the track, and there was a “v”-shaped gap underneath the tortured pants button.  

“No worries, dude.  You just sit back and get a bellyful of food and drink like normal.”

“All right, I can do that!”  Max confirmed, running his right hand over his rounded middle.    He sucked in the delicious aromas that filled the air.  “Wow, what smells so good?”

“I’m so glad you asked.  Would you like a drink?”

“That sounds perfect.” Max said, “I could use a stiff one.”  

“Kitchen’s that-a-way,” I pointed out, letting him walk in front of me.  His fat butt wobbled from side to side in front of me, and I tried to calculate how many pots of pasta it took to get the seat of his tight pants to fill out that much.  “How about a martini?”

“Sure!”  Max looked around at the smorgasbord of food around the kitchen and was genuinely surprised.  “Oh. My. God. You really outdid yourself!”

Max made short work of the frozen glassful of gin I’d poured him and held the empty out for me to fill again.  “No way, you left the scale out for me?”  Seeing the scale over by the back door, Max sauntered over and stepped on it.  “Not sure if I should do this or not...”

I took another long drink of my gin and tonic as I walked over to see what the scale had to say.  “Huh.  251 pounds, Max,” I told him as he tried to suck in his belly and lean forward to look down at the readout.  

“251, really?” Max sipped his martini confidently.  “Damn. I just keep putting on weight,” he said as he started scooping up seven layer dip with tortilla chips, “ Well, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised with how much chow I’ve been pushing down my gullet these past few days.”  The effects of the quick infusion of cold gin became obvious; Max was getting “softer”.

Like a switch had been flipped, Max concentrated on conquering the chips and dip while alternating nibbles of crostini slathered with roasted garlic cream cheese, roasted peppers, and balsamic vinegar.  I opened him a beer and he guzzled to wash down the uninterrupted stream of appetizers.  Finding true love with the barbecue sauce-drenched bacon-wrapped Italian meatballs, he popped them in his mouth, one after the other, like Pac Man on a hurried trip through the maze.  Max’s black shirt stretched as his stomach swelled, and his facial expression was that of pure bliss.  “What’s for dinner?” he asked.

“Come this way,” I said, guiding him into the dining room where I’d set a very attractive table.  “Make yourself comfortable.”

“One minute,” Max delayed, as he doubled back to fill a large plate full of his favorite hors d’ oeuvres.  

“You’ve sure got a good appetite there, Max.” I complemented him, giving his middle a lustful stare.

“You’re an amazing cook, too.  I think I’m in trouble,” Max told me, setting his big plate of nibbles on the table and rubbing his rounder belly in wide circles.  

Max’s prediction of trouble became more real over the next hour of uninterrupted binging.  After he’d finished the entire pan of steak enchiladas, the outline of his wide belly button was unmistakeable through his divinely taut shirt.  The slipperiness of the black knit material caused the hem of that outer shirt to slide up a bit on his swelling belly, creating a white strip of the cotton undershirt below.  Max finally took a break from shoving food into his mouth.  He scooted his ample butt forward and leaned back in his dining chair, arching his back slightly.  The movement caused him to emit a very satisfied belch; startled at the volume of the burp, Max excused himself and rested a hand on top of his much taller belly.

I leaned toward him, unable to hide my pleasure in his condition, and pushed my hand against his firm stomach.  Max let out a grunt and looked over at me.  “How are ya feelin’ there, big guy?” I asked, giving his bulging belly a couple enthusiastic thumps.  “Yer gettin’ big!”

“The food is too good. I gotta use your restroom for a minute.”

Max struggled to get up, grunting and groaning all the way, pausing to stand before me while he stretched his arms up to the ceiling.  His combination of shirts rode up his belly, baring a nice portion for me to view, and his pants button appeared to be in imminent danger of launching.  Max grabbed his latest beer bottle off of the table and chugged down what was left.  “Ahhh, good stuff,” he said, belching loudly.  Allowing his belly to relax a little, the increased size was enough to pop his pants button off into my lap.  

“Well, it was only a matter of time.  That button’s days were limited,” I comforted him.

“40s here I come,” Max said before turning to wobble to the bathroom.  I watched his concerted effort to walk after eating as much as he did, and continued marveling at how fat his ass had gotten over the previous few months. His gait seemed unnecessarily hindered until he let out a fart as he exited the room.  “Excuse me!” he called behind him as he continued his journey to apparently release even more accumulated pressure.

I checked on the outrageously topped pizza in the oven and pulled it out ahead of it becoming too browned.  Opening another beer for Max, I waited for him to return.  As I was cutting slices, I heard Max puffing his way down the hallway.  Emerging in the kitchen, he lacked his overtight black pullover shirt and was clad only in his completely filled white tank top.  His nipples were obviously hard and he’d made no effort to raise his pants zipper whatsoever.  Max’s basket was plump as he opened his mouth.  “Pizza?  Oh no.  My weakness.  You know my weakness.”

“Yup.  You told me one time and I’ve never forgotten.”

Max stood there in the kitchen admiring the incredibly tasty mound of toppings smothering a semi-thick crust, sucking back drool and swallowing hard to keep it from escaping the corner of his mouth.  “It looks so good.”

“Do ya think it will fit in your belly?”

“It’s definitely gonna be a tight fit.  I’m gonna have to stretch top-to-bottom and side-to-side.”

“Attaboy, Max! That’s the spirit!”

I picked up a heavy slice and guided it towards his mouth.  His lips instinctively parted as he opened his mouth wide for a giant bite.  I pushed the ample portion in as far as I could and he responded by taking an enormous chunk.  That first piece disappeared quickly, and his hunger was reignited by the irresistible combination of flavors.  He stood there in front of the cooktop gorging himself on pizza as I opened another beer for him.  Max spread his feet apart to lower his center of gravity toward the food supply, and relaxed his abdominal muscles as possible to facilitate continuous swelling.

I must have created the perfect storm of toppings because Max could not and would not stop eating.  His midsection blew up like a balloon as he used both hands to push in slice after slice.  He looked over at me with a couple pieces remaining, blinked several times, belched forcefully, and said, “I’m getting s-t-u-f-f-e-d!!”

“No doubt, Max.  Your gut looks like you’ve swallowed a beach ball.”

Max chuckled as he requested another beer. “I can’t believe what a bad influence you are.  I’m supposed to be on a diet!”

“Hey, I’m sorry, Max.”  I walked over and placed my hand on top of his protruding belly.  I pushed in to fully appreciate the fullness, watching his nipples harden again.  His softened pecs sat on top of his overfed belly as plump reminders of his long-forgotten days in the gym.  I put my other hand on the small of his back, brushing his thick lovehandle on the way over.  Pushing him forward with one hand as I rubbed back and forth on his solid belly with the other, I noticed him chew his mouthfuls faster.  “Your diet is as blown as this fat belly.”

Max looked down and the surprise on his face was evident.  “Holy fuck...my belly has never been this big!”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, Max?”

“Fuck yeah. Keep rubbing!  Maybe get behind me and use both hands...”

He didn’t have to ask twice, and I pushed my hot crotch into his fat bubble butt as I reached around his front.  Max gobbled down the last of the pizza and guzzled his near-full beer.  I squeezed a big long belch out of him and then shook his enormously swollen belly from side to side.

“You’ve impregnated me with food!” Max babbled in a daze, leaning his head back against my shoulder.  “Not that I’m complaining at all, but fuck, I’m so fat!”

“Yeah, you are. Your belly feels like it’s gonna bust!”

“No lie. You ought to pop me and put me out of my misery!”

“Maybe after dessert.”

“Dessert?”

I started smacking Max’s tight gut with alternating hands.  “Damn, this tank makes some fine sounds.  I could play this drum for a long time!”  Max put his weight back against me as I harvested a new round of burps from his ripe watermelon of a belly.

Max pulled away from me and waddled over to where the scale sat on the floor.  He was so full that his arms swayed out away from his body.  Stepping on the scale, he became frustrated almost immediately.  “Shit.  I can’t see the display-- my belly is too big.  You fed me too much!”  

I walked over to his side, looked down, and reported the 261 that showed on the display.  Smacking him right in the full gut, I told him “hey, it takes two to make a 10 pound food baby.”

“Fuck, man.  I gotta go on a diet.  I’ll never find a girlfriend at this rate.”

“Max, I’ve told you before...you’re a damn handsome guy!  So what if you’re thirty, forty, uh, sixty or so pounds overweight for your height.”

“More like 80 pounds overweight,” Max smirked, putting a hand on each side of his bloated sphere of chow.  “Okay, 90.”

“Trust me, Max.  You can find a girlfriend.  There’s plenty of women out there that will find you a plenty good catch.  You’ve got a steady income, you’re reliable, and you come with nice big bubble in the middle, which means you’re on the level.”  

“I’m just not looking because I don’t like how I look right now...” Max said, stepping off of the scale.

“But hell, you’re so hunky and chunky.  You just need to find a girl that will bring you beers while you sit on the couch waiting for her to finish making you an extensively filling dinner.  You’d be much happier letting your belt out another notch than going and sweating it up at some gym.”

I could sense Max traveling to this magic land of perpetual weight gain in his mind as he   wobbled back into the main kitchen area sniffing around for more food. “I do hate cardio, that’s for sure.”  He parked his fat butt against the counter and let his gut relax out to full bulge.  

“See?” I eased my way over in front of him and gently punched around on his enormous ball of belly.  His tank top’s hem lifted up to expose his belly button, inviting my finger in for a visit.  “You’re destined to be an overfed chubby hubby.”  As I pushed my finger in and out of his belly hole, he horned up instantly.  “Now, how about some dessert?”

“Jeeeeeez. Are you just going to keep pushing food in me until I explode?”

“Is that a bad thing?” I inquired.

“Nah. You’re an amazing cook.  My belly is telling me to stop, but my taste buds are longing for more.  Why did you make everything so delicious?”

“It was all part of the plan to make sure you really enjoyed yourself, Max.  I’ve loved watching you grow fatter over the last few months.”

“Hmmm.  Well, you do talk about restaurants and recipes a lot.  You’re always making me hungry....even after I’ve eaten!”

“Oops... Sorry about that.”  I pulled out a plate of brownies and wafted the aroma under Max’s nose.  He started salivating again, and his dimples made a lengthy reappearance.  “Brownie cups with Reese’s peanut butter cup centers...”

“No way...”  

I took one and shoved it halfway into his mouth.  Pouring him a big glass of chocolate milk, I had him take a big gullet-clearing swig after he swallowed the generous bite of brownie treat.  “C’mon.”

Soon, I had him laying across my lap on the couch as I fed him stuffed brownies and poured chocolate milk down his throat.  After I’d shove another morsel in his eager mouth, I’d give his ever-swelling belly an intense rubbing.  Max’s stomach pushed up higher and higher into the air, becoming tighter as it rose.  Finally, Max was struggling to swallow down each subsequent bite, and I knew he was reaching capacity. 

“Ohhhh, my belly...” Max moaned.  

I put both hands on his mound and finger-massaged my way around it.  “It’s like a big round rock!”

“I know...it’s all your fault.” Max got out between labored breaths.  “I’m overgorged.”

“Poor guy.  Hard-bloated from rib to cock....” I thumped his enormous gut like a ripe melon.  “Now, aren’t you glad you finally made it over for dinner, Max?”
 “Buddha is on the verge of going boom!”

Max wriggled off of my lap and capsized onto all fours on the floor.  For a moment, all he could do was adjust to the amount of gravity pulling his tumescent abdomen close to the rug.  “Blue ribbon Buddha...” I observed, remembering the sticker he’d gotten the other day from the hot bearchub manager at Applebee’s.  Thumping the side of his full tank, I produced a series of most pleasing “bomp” sounds.  “So ample and plump, this Buddha Boy,” I told him, scooting forward to sit on the edge of the couch so that I could reach all of the way under his solid gut.  “Like a big tom turkey being fattened for a sublime Thanksgiving meal.”

“Tell me about it.  I keep wanting to get back my hot college bod to get the ladies, but all I have are guys stuffing me until I’m ready to pop like a tick!”

“You should resist those insane temptations and do some push ups -- right now!”  

Max grunted incredulously.  Pushing his legs back one after the other, he soon found himself laying on his beach ball of a gut in a pregnant plank position.  I pushed him over onto his back and watched his mountainous bellyful wobble into upward prominence. I mercilessly fingered his shallower belly button and shook his tank from side to side.

“Heh.  I thought so.  Now, try to do a sit up.”

“Please.” Max breathed, working out a long, satisfied belch.  I knelt down beside him and put both hands on top of his tall girthy gut, applying pressure in various degrees all over the broad expanse.  I watched his cock lengthen inside his taut underwear, knowing that he was thoroughly enjoying the attention. Grabbing the hem of his tank top, I worked the skin tight affair up to his fattened pecs crowned with hard nipples.  I slapped the bare skin of his bloated stomach, careful not to work his packed digestive tract too much.  

“Max can’t run, he can’t do a push up or a sit up,” I stated, lifting my leg up and over to straddle his big round mountain.  “He can’t even escape a sure and certain forcefeeding coming up to finish him off.”  I gently bounced on his giant gut, quite mindful of the fact that it could prove disastrous to put much weight on it.

Max sputtered out an oh-my-god, then “sit on my cock instead. My pregnant belly can’t take any pressure at all.  I’ll split down the middle!”

“Attaboy, Max,” I affirmed, giving his taut balloon a good massage, “now to push another fattening pile of food into Buddha...”

[ddproductionsw77]

Just Go To Sleep, Riles

Fandom: Girl Meets World

Pairing(s): Riarkle

Characters: Riley Matthews and Farkle Minkus

Rating: K

Description: Riley is trying to study for her Russian Lit exam but she just can’t concentrate.

Author’s Note: So, I have headcanons of the Riarkle-children and like how they all come to be and all that… this is basically born from that. IF YOU HAVE A RIARKLE ONE-SHOT REQUEST SEND IT MY WAY!!!

“Sophia Mars Minkus, you are making it very hard for Mommy to study.”

Riley grumbled and threw down the Dostoyevsky novel she’d been pouring over for hours now. Her hand slipped to the swell of her stomach, feeling a small kick against the tips her fingers. Her daughter, it seemed, was tired of studying and restless.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Bug? I gotta pass this exam.” Riley asked, tracing patterns over the fabric of her— well, Farkle’s —shirt with her fingernails.

The baby had started moving almost the second she was expected to and hadn’t seemed to stop since. These days, Riley was lucky to sleep through the night without feeling a sharp kick or a bout of hiccups and while she was elated that her daughter was healthy, she was also exhausted.

The baby kicked again, hard into Riley’s ribs, in response.

Well, that's too bad, Mommy...

Flinching and rubbing at her tummy, the brunette pulled herself to the side of the bed she’d been sitting on and just managed to get herself to her feet. Giving her head a moment to adjust to the shift in gravity, Riley started out of the bedroom and trailed down the hallway.

Boxes and various items stacked up the walls of the small hall, evidence of the young couple’s procrastination in moving in. They knew they had to get unpacked eventually but between jobs, internships, classes, and now the ever-approaching arrival of Sophia Mars Minkus there just hadn’t been time.

Topanga had made Riley feel a little better by commenting that she was astounded they had managed to even find a bigger place with how busy they were. However, the comment didn't unpack the boxes...

But obviously, with a baby on the way, they couldn’t have stayed in their original studio apartment. It was perfect for a young couple, just starting out, but didn’t quite fit a small family that was just beginning.

It started after high school, when Riley and Farkle had decided to move in together.

Farkle’s parents hadn’t been thrilled. They had already been distraught over their son choosing a girl and Columbia over Trenton and Princeton, so finding out that he would be living with said girl on top of it all had only been icing on the cake.

There had been some yelling about getting distracted and falling off course, but Farkle had made up his mind. Riley was his choice. How could she ever not be?

So, they found their little one room, studio apartment, nestled exactly halfway between Riley’s NYU and Farkle’s Columbia. It wasn't exactly glamorous... Riley had sobbed for a month after they moved in because there was no bay window and the 'water tasted different' — it didn't. Farkle had to patch drywall for the first time and ended up sticking some in Riley’s hair by accident.

But that was what just starting out was all about, right?

Being terrified?

Having no fucking clue what to do the first time something breaks?

Then bucking up and working through it together.

That was normal and for about three years, nothing changed and the space slowly became endearingly horrible. You had the kick the fridge open, hot showers only lasted 10 minutes (if you were lucky), but those things made Riley and Farkle laugh. It made it their apartment.

And then the pregnancy test came back positive about halfway through Junior year.

Things, to put it lightly, had to change.

Jennifer and Stuart had had some more yelling to do over that news. Words that hurt more than either Riley or Farkle openly admitted were said — "mistake", "regret", "screw up". Topanga had had to catch Cory when he passed out and then Farkle had been forced to try and outrun the man on the crowded New York streets.

The thing was, even with all that and being scared out of their fucking minds... Farkle and Riley were happy?

Because, holy shit, they made a tiny, little person who was going to live and breath and need them for everything.

Nothing they had ever done before seemed even remotely impressive anymore.

Riley was pregnant.

They were going to be parents.

To a baby.

A daughter, to be exact. And her name was going to be Sophia Mars Minkus, after wisdom, intellect, and her father's favorite planet, and she was going to be out of this world. But she wasn’t there quite yet.

Not that something like that would keep the little Bug from demanding attention.

Riley came to the living room and glanced at the clock on the small mantle. It was late, later than she’d been known to stay up since she’d gotten pregnant.

Months ago, Maya had called her boring when she'd left their favorite bar before even 8 o'clock. At that point, the couple hadn't disclosed the news of their little surprise to their friends and the blonde could not imagine what would be making her Honey such a party pooper. Riley'd cried the whole subway ride home. Farkle had come home two hours later, taken one look at her tearstained face, and rolled his eyes with a "Babe, you're not boring. You're pregnant."

Only this was different. She just couldn’t bring herself to put away her textbooks and novels. Russian Lit was hell but it was necessary for her Bachelor’s. She had to pass that exam.

Sophia needed a well-educated Mommy with a nice job where she could write about important things and people every day and come home to her baby girl every night. And Riley would give her that.

Another thought crossed Riley’s mind and she smiled down at her bump, “Daddy’ll be home soon, Bug. Maybe he’ll be able to get you to calm down.”

It infuriated her, but Riley couldn’t deny that Farkle was by far Sophia’s favorite, not only out of the two of them but out of everyone.

When ever he touched Riley’s stomach the baby would always shift to press against his hand and she would even kick directly against his palm. However, the most precious interaction was when Farkle would read to their daughter.

The baby Bug would always immediately settle at her father's easy, soft reading voice. Riley couldn't blame the baby though as she could barely keep her eyes opening listening to A Brief History of Time, but it still made the brunette's heart sing to witness.

Sophia was definitely going to be a Daddy's Girl, just as her mother had always been.

Wondering to the fridge, Riley worried at her lower lip as her mind wondered to the leftover homemade mac and cheese from dinner the night before. God, it sounded so good...

But she knew it wasn't good to eat right before sleep and honestly she was maybe just a little worried about the weight she'd already gained over her pregnancy. She really didn't need mac and cheese... but then again maybe Sophia did? Maybe that was the reasoning behind her craving?

Well, for Sophia...

Twenty minutes later when Farkle's key turned in the door, Riley was tucked into the couch with cold mac and cheese settled into her lap and Netflix calling her full attention to the television before her. As her fiancé came stumbling in, she shoved one last bite into her mouth and (as quickly as she was capable of) shot into an upright position.

"Oo're ome!" She exclaimed, covering her mouth.

Chuckling tiredly, Farkle ruffled his hair. It was sprinkling outside, making his walk home from the subway station a bit wetter than usual. He easily deciphered her yelp, knowing fluent 'Eating Riley'.

"Yeah, I'm home," He stepped towards her on the couch, quirking at eyebrow, "Why are you still up?"

Riley swallowed her food and shifted as Farkle slipped between her back and the armrest of the couch before laying back onto him. Her head fit just right in the crook of his neck. "I'm studying."

Glancing between the mac and cheese, television, and his fiancée, Farkle rubbed light circles over the woman's arm. "You were? Because we might want to go over what 'studying' means again."

"I was studying!" Riley defended, glaring up at his jaw line. Her eye fluttered closed at she sighed, shrugging, "Sophie got bored. Not me."

"You got bored, Bug? How could Mommy do that to you?" Farkle asked, leaning in to gently address Riley's stomach. His hand came to rest over the fabric of her shirt and Sophia nudged against his palm, drawing a tired smile.

Bring her hand up, Riley jokingly slapped Farkle's cheek, bring his gaze to her's. "I had no choice! My Russian Lit exam is tomorrow and if I don't pass-"

"Then you'll still be okay, Babe. Besides, you're going to pass, Riley! You're too smart and too damn determined not to." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, shifting to nuzzle her soft hair.

Riley sighed and closed her burning eyes again, "Well, at least one of us has faith in me."

Sophia gave another hard kick and Farkle smirked, "Two of us."

"She doesn't count. She's just tired of studying." The young mother's speech was slightly slurred from exhaustion and her eyes hadn't come back open yet.

Farkle lightly ran his hand over her stomach, "Well, you seem pretty tired too."

She brought her hands down to encase his and nodded, cracking one eye open, "Maybe just a little."

"Just a little?"

"A smidgen."

"Obviously," Farkle placated, shaking his head. Kissing her lips this time, he leaned back against the couch and closed his own eyes, “Just go to sleep, Riles."

"If you insist..." She trailed off, running a finger up along his arm. "Farkle?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He smiled at the ceiling, eyes still closed. "And I love you.”

AM STILL TAKING ONE-SHOT REQUESTS FOR RIARKLE!!! PLEASE SEND ME SOME!!! I LOVE WRITING THESE TWO! Also, would you like more future-Riarkle one-shots like this one? Like their lives before kids but after high school? Or bits and pieces of engaged/married/parenting life?