#hor d'oeuvres

[catfindr]

[imaf00die777]

[columboscreens]

columbo - candidate for crime

[morethansalad]

Vegan Blueberry Crostinis

[not-a-matopoeia]

in my little delusional fantasy land, where the Batfam actually like, has good relationships with one another.

I think that Bruce is the kind of Dad that when someone asks about his kids he's just like: "My kids are so cool, I love hanging out with them."

(to which ofc people are like: no what are your kids like- are they ivy league scholars, do they have a good job, do they play sports" and he's just like: yeah sure ofc but also, get this they are just the coolest!)

idk i think its cute

[bonebabbles]

Oh cool! Glowworms mentioned! It's nice when they actually get the ecology accurate. This is a pleasant surprise.

[ckret2]

one of my next tattoos should be a list of words I have to double check the spelling of most often. just put it right on my wrist. hordorvs will never defeat me again.

[misforgotten2]

Those self-serving tunas can be real jerks.

Woman's Home Companion - October 1949

[mintypin]

Me affter making an object show (objects in paradise) and an ii AU (hors ´d oveures HD) and not updating both of them (and imma start shcool soon):

[oldshowbiz]

ok

[divinegrump]

*waiter whipping off the lid of the passed hors d'oeuvres and proffering it to patrons*

Waiter, gracefully holding out the tray: 'The fuck?'

'No, no thank you.'

'The fuck?'

'Ah, no, thank you.'

[columboscreens]

[morethansalad]

Vegan Pigs in Blankets

[k-cady]

[cunninghamchrissie]

“My eyes are up here, Cunningham.”

Eddie breaks Chrissy's reverie, and she blushes a delicious shade of pink that he wants to lick off her face, the finger she was gnawing on falling to her lap.

“Where’d you go just then?” he chuckles.

“Nowhere! You just, uhm.” She clears her throat, still unable to look away from him. More specifically, his body. “That outf–the clothes. Uhm. It looks really good.”

And, really, it’s the worst thing she could’ve told him, because Eddie gets that insufferable slow grin on his face, eyes narrowing in mischief.

“Yeah?” he teases, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and popping his hip, all cockiness. “Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?”

Any other day, Chrissy would roll her eyes fondly, maybe giggle his name if they were in public, but he just looks so hot in his red plaid shirt and leather jacket, her thighs can't help but press together to try and alleviate the ache already settling there.

"I guess I'll let you objectify me like I'm nothing but a piece of meat," Eddie sighs dramatically, not missing the movement of her legs. "But only because I love you."

If Chrissy starts wearing his shirt to bed when she's alone and comes faster than she ever has because it still smells like him, that's nobody's business but her own.